★ loupette ★

METALOCALYPSE X OC!fem!Reader - notes; hey guys! This is finally, my first one shot! Remember guys, english isn't my first language so im very sorry for grammar faults or whatever. If you know me on Instagram (@aeolov) and my oc (Vanessa “Red” Thompson) im happy to see you here!

SYNOPSIS - The Dethklok Minute Is talking about Red, the band's keyboardist! Dethklok decides to remedy Red's bad mood upon learning the news - alcohol is the best solution!

CW - Alcohol, Murderface suggesting suicide as a solution because he's stupid

"And now in Dethklok Minute ! Good news for the rock fan ! Urban Thoughts, the first band Red, the keyboardist of Dethklok joined in her youth, is reforming! A tour is planned. The Guitarist Rodrick Skull has spoken !"

- "Fuck*** yeah baby, we are so back. WITH a new singer and keyboardist. I haven't been able to get in touch with our former member-, but I assure you myself that we're going to party like it's 90s !"

"We can only wish this group good luck; will we hear Red talk about them? Maybe even make an appearance at a concert? Stay tuned to Dethklok Minute!"

In shock, Red stares at the small TV in the bar, a grimace of disgust on her face. A beer in her hand. "This..son of a…" She watches the images of Rodrick Skull, with a younger woman on his arm—probably the one who will replace her -poor her, really, when you know Rodrick-.

Like every Friday, Dethklok are doing the rounds of the bars, they are on their fourth since Pickle has taken on the challenge of drinking all the bottles of tequila that the bars have in stock.

She was having a great evening, really! Then that damn program came and ruined everything… damn it! She couldn't help but throw the glass bottle at the TV. "Hey!! Change that, we don't give a damn about a band that's dead anyway."

The bartender, already slightly intimidated by the group, decides to change the channel to a simple American football game.

" Woah..woaaaaah dood...dooood, celm donn.." Completely drunk, Pickle is sitting next to Red on the bar stool. Glass in hand, filled with a yellow liquid, he takes two large gulps of tequila and then lets out a belch.

"Go ahead and burp in my face." Red's voice is obviously overflowing with sarcasm, and to this sarcasm Pickle is just laughing.

"What is Urban Thoughts anyway? What a shitty name-" Intervenes Toki, who as usual intervenes without being asked, but for once he is not wrong, what a shitty name, everyone in the group agree with this.

With another glass of whiskey poured, Red began to explain what is Urban Thoughts.

Back in the '90s, when Red was young and brunette, she joined an alternative rock band. She was the singer and played keyboards. They had a little success back then, and the frontman, Rodrick Skull, is a man who knows how to promote himself. There were four. Rodrick Skull, Vanessa (Red), Ronan the drummer, and Bill Snake on bass.

For personal reasons, the group didn't last more than five years, and they broke up. Some members decided to pursue other careers, while others, like Rodrick, tried to launch solo careers—without much success. The only one who managed to truly continue without fading into obscurity was our dear Red, who years later joined Dethklok.

Of course, knowing that things are ephemeral, she's mainly independent thanks to the web. No more selling soundtracks under the table… anyway, that's not the point.

She hasn't really heard from Rodrick - to be honest, she hasn't been looking for him - but according to some, he continues to try to make a name for himself, in just about everything, with ease, like said before.

She knows that the drummer, Ronan, now known as Aurore, has become a beautiful young woman in the workforce and has a job in offices, and is married to a completely ordinary man.

And Bill Snake hangs out in his squat that he calls home in Detroit, still participates in his anti-fascist demonstrations and he has a five-year-old daughter.

"Sorry to interrupt, but we do not really care how your other members are doing—Am mean, if a had to keep in touch with every member of every band I've played ins…" Skwisgaar said, who has a habit of strumming the strings of his guitar as if to occupy his hands for more than ten seconds.

""All I'm saying is that he's just a dirty slut. I wrote and composed half of the songs!"

""You only have one solution left:...kill yourself!" Well, Red isn't going to take Murderface's advice literally; she's not stupid. "Great Murderface, thank you-."

Nathan Explosion, who had preferred to listen, finally let out a grunt; a grunt is sometimes worth a hundred words. He didn't really understand everything, but he understood one thing: Rodrick fucked with Red, not in that way—more like through contracts and such, because of course he had surely taken care to remove Red's name.

"Anyway, the tour won't even work if no one from the band is there." He finally declares, which makes Red shrug her shoulders, uncertain, who can be sure after all?

"AGHH I'm sick of hearing you whine like a woman!!" Limping through his teeth, already a little drunk, Murderface threatens the bartender with his best bottle of whisky, then places it in front of Red's eyes.

"Drink and forget it !! Even if you have to throw up-" "I-I haven't threwn up yet!! I think I'm abeut to-" "Not the hair Pickle!!" "Serry Tokii ~"

"YEAH ! Its brutal as fuck !"

If there's one way to solve problems, it's definitely alcohol…well, she's not Pickle to down a bottle of whisky like it's water, but…how can you refuse a challenge.

Drinking in every sip, the group cheered and encouraged him. "Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!" And that bastard Rodrick's face was replaced by that beautiful amber bottle of whiskey.

She doesn't quite remember how she ended up downing more bottles of whiskey, lined up with Pickle's and the others' tequila bottles - except for Nathan, because tequila makes him mean and he would have smashed the bar so he have like Red some whisky-

But then it came to this that they decided to stay at the bar, politely asking the bartender to leave it open for them. They ended up monopolizing the karaoke, with Pickle trying to sing a song while half-eating the microphone and barely able to stand, simply by having one arm around the shoulders of Nathan, who was practically a refrigerator, and the other around Red's. The three of them were barely trying to sing the lyrics, too drunk to even stand, but it made them laugh.

"STAYIN' ELIVE ! STAYIN' ELIVE, EH EH EH !"

"EH EH EH !" "EH EH EH !"

"STAYIN' ELIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE AAAAHHH !!"

With Pickle on lyrics and Nathan and Red on backing vocals, it's almost as if Dethklok's next album is already written. While sitting on the bar bench, with Murderface slumped over the table, already sleeping after throwing up, Toki amused himself by drawing crude penises on his face with a marker borrowed from a board at the bar used to keep track of customers' tabs.. "Ehehehe, am's so hilarious!" "Pfft Toki, what are you, five ? Give me this, am showing you."

What's certain is that the evening passed quickly, as they all ended up sleeping at the bar, too drunk to drive or even move. Vomit and a hangover were the order of the day the next morning.