FIC: Narkaos (Seth/Magnus, R)
TO: dethmas
FROM: Your Secret Valentine
Title: Narkaos
Pairing: Seth/Magnus
Rating: R for language and drugs
Timeline: Pre-Dethcamp
Warnings: Canon-typical drug use
Seth’s mother’s praise meant nothing. Molly was a lowlife with no sense of self, no sense of what she wanted from life - only a deep sense of resentment for things not having turned out the way she told herself they should and a deeply rooted inability to feel any genuine gratitude for what she had. His brother’s success meant everything. It wasn’t fair that his neurotic wet blanket of a brother should rise to the top - not after putting a damper on nearly everything throughout their childhood by being a sickly, pathetic loser and a troublemaker who didn’t even know how to properly talk his way out of shit. If only Pickles had taken a page from his book, maybe he wouldn’t have gotten himself kicked out.
He had some real accomplishments under his belt: his release from prison, his involvement with the musicians he met in the joint, his temporary sobriety, his marriage to an ugly, scrawny, fish-eyed skank, and the fact that he was raising a son who grew increasingly resentful with every passing day. He had a rough time of things, he told himself. He deserved just as much recognition as his brother just for scraping by when the odds were stacked so highly against him. How could he have advanced as far as Pickles while having to grow up alongside his constant fights with their parents, his overt rebelliousness, and his inability to just be convenient? Surely, his descent into a life of crime and squandered potential was no fault of his own.
These sorts of platitudes and lies were what Seth told himself constantly, just to power through another day, another moment of being alive. He would look up pictures of his brother online every night after putting his son to bed, staring at them for hours on end, studying Pickles’ facial features and comparing them to his own. “See? You’re no better than me, ‘least in the looks department, heh,” he’d mutter to himself. This annoyed Amber to no end at first, but she grew used to it. Rather, she was forced to - better to stay quiet and pretend everything was fine than risk being vehemently accused of nagging or only caring about herself again. Ever since Pickles’ last visit to Australia, Seth rarely even got into bed before she went to sleep. No use waiting for him to crawl into bed with her, no use hoping for any intimacy - she suspected that he would pleasure himself to thoughts of achieving his brother’s level of fame and then be all tapped out after that. She turned to the mindless comfort of cell phone games.
One night, during one of his comparison sessions, he received an e-mail. The name it was addressed from sounded familiar. “Magnus Hammersmith.” Immediately, he remembered that name. That was the man who got kicked out of Dethklok. Seth had kept a close eye on his brother’s activities ever since he moved away to LA. He knew that Magnus and Pickles had once been close, up until Magnus lost his position in the band. How Magnus knew anything of Seth was something of a mystery, but he opened the e-mail immediately.
“Hello, Seth.
I am writing to you with the knowledge that our lives have been driven into the ground by the band called Dethklok. When I was part of the band, your brother always made himself out to be the victim, always made you out to be the bad guy. Now I know the truth, now that they surely do the same with me amongst themselves. Dethklok are nothing but arrogant tyrants, and I know they have oppressed you and ruined you as they have oppressed and ruined me.
Recently, I have joined forces with a group working to right the band’s many wrongs at all costs. This might be a bit much to ask, but if you could fly me out to Australia so we can discuss this in private, I would appreciate it very much. We can find a way to get to these spoiled scumbags and make sure we are never trapped in their shadows or their chaos ever again. From everything I know of you, you are a smart man with many good ideas. You know your way around.
If you decide to fly me out, I’m currently living near Detroit.
Thank you,
M.H.”
Seth glared at the e-mail with a toothy sneer on his face. Of course his brother whined to his bandmates about him constantly. That’s what whiners do. Still, how dare anyone try to turn anyone else against him after all he’d been through? The entire band deserved a come-uppance, and if he could say he played a role in that, perhaps that would be the ultimate accomplishment he needed in order to finally feel satisfied. As much as he hated giving money to inferiors, he decided he would pay for Magnus’ airfare and booked a flight.
“Hello, Magnus.
Thanks for your interest in meeting me. I’ve bought you a round-trip ticket. You’ll leave a week from today, stay for one night, and then go back to Michigan the next day. Hope this sounds fair. Will see you soon.
- Seth”
*****
Seth stood in the airport with his heaviest sunshades on. He could barely stand the smell or the sight of the people scrambling around him, poorly dressed and poorly bathed. He held up a whiteboard with the name “Hammersmith” written on it immaculately in red dry-erase marker - he refused to bear the indignity of using cardboard. Soon, Magnus stood in front of him, staring down at him. “Hello, Seth.”
“Oh! Fuckin’ Magnus, heh. Nice t’meet ya, man. C’mon,” Seth said, leading the way out of the airport. “Good thing y’only packed one fuckin’ bag, heh. I wasn’t gonna carry shit after spendin’ all this fuckin’ money.”
He wasn’t quite what Seth had imagined. He was scrawny, with long, frizzy hair and a glass eye - he could have easily blended in with the homeless veterans he used to see back in the States. He carried himself differently, though - he carried himself with purpose. Seth supposed he did so to make up for the fact that he had amounted to absolutely nothing. Calmness came over him as he realized this. This man who was plotting revenge against the band and asking for his help was literally nowhere in life, living in some slum most likely, and he was the head of Dethklok Australia. He’d almost forgotten about that, even as he put work into it every day. It’s easy to forget the things we think we’re owed, after all.
“So, ah, Seth. Where are we going?”
“Got a li’l hotel room for ya. Figured we could talk there, heh,” Seth replied.
“Do you think you could slow down just a little bit? I’m not familiar with this city at all, man,” Magnus complained.
Seth slowed his pace. “That better? We’re almost there,” he grumbled.
Magnus nodded and turned his gaze toward the busy streets. The two of them walked one more block before they reached a modest hotel building.
“An’ here we are, heh. Come on, I’ll check you in.”
“Thank you for this. I realized I could have put you through less trouble and had this conversation some other way…” Magnus intoned as he followed Seth through the automatic glass doors.
Seth turned around and faced Magnus, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Nah, are you kidding? Y’know Dethklok’s got their own fuckin’ police force now, right? They kill kids, fuckin’ little kids, for downloading their albums. If we left a fuckin’ trail with what we were sayin’ to one another, I could’ve lost my fuckin’ job, or worse. ‘M worried enough about the two e-mails we exchanged. Hopefully I fuckin’ deleted ‘em before one o’ Ofdensen’s lackeys went through all the fuckin’ employee data ‘n’ not after, heh.”
Magnus blinked and crossed his arms. “Well, damn, then I certainly hope so, too. Again, thank you for doing this,” he whispered gruffly.
Seth smirked, baring more teeth than geniality. “Don’ mention it, heh.”
Seth checked Magnus into his room and followed him up the elevator. Once they were inside, Seth drew the curtains as tightly as they would go. “So, Magnus. Ya party?”
“When I can afford it. Which is almost never,” Magnus scoffed.
“Figures, heh. Well, I brought somethin’ for us. Somethin’ I always find helps the little plannin’ process along, heh.” Seth produced a bag of cocaine from one of the inside pockets of his jacket.
“Nice. How’d you not get torn apart by dogs at the airport with that?” Magnus asked.
“Dipped the bag in tabasco sauce before I left, throws ‘em off. Dogs’re fuckin’ dumb,” Seth snickered.
Magnus smiled. “I guess I’ll have to keep that trick in mind.”
Seth put some coke out onto the smooth, glass coffee table and divided it up into four lines using a credit card. He rolled up a bill and snorted two lines in succession, then handed the bill to Magnus, who appeared a bit spaced out.
“What’s wrong? Jet lag? This’ll wake you up real good, heh.”
“Yeah, guess so,” Magnus muttered, taking the bill. He prepared to snort the other two lines when he realized how his hair dangled in front of his face. He pushed it back behind his ears and insufflated. “Damn, forgot how much that burns,” he said with a dry laugh.
Magnus stretched out his arms as he felt the drug take hold - it felt as if a cool, mountain breeze blew through his veins. “So,” he said, leaning forward towards Seth. “I’ve got a group of guys who are very good at kidnapping. They can practically make their victims unrecognizable. I just gotta find out… Among the current members of Dethklok, who’s the weakest, most gullible one? You’ve got a closer eye on them than I do, what with handling their shows over here.”
“Well, they’re all fuckin’ stupid, but, uh, what’s his name, what’s his fuckin’ name,” Seth mumbled, pouring out some more cocaine and snorting another line. “Toki. Sensitive li’l European pussy. I’ve never really been that into metal or anythin’ like that, but he didn’t seem right for a metal band, heh. Got drunk off his ass at my wedding party, puked on my great-aunt’s shoes, and showed up with a fuckin’ blender as his fuckin’ gift. Of all the things he could’ve afforded to get me, bein’ in fuckin’ Dethklok!” He snorted yet another line. “You registereds for it at Crates and Barrels!! ” He mocked. “Point bein’, he’s a fuckin’ idiot, you can probably lure ‘im into anything.”
Magnus crossed his arms and sunk back into the sofa. “I see. He’s the one who replaced me. Did you know that?”
Seth paused for a moment, and shrugged. “Hey, c’mon, do s’more coke, you’re bein’ kind of a buzz-kill, heh,” Seth urged, tapping more of the white powder out of the bag.
“Fine,” Magnus rasped and snorted a few more lines. “So, then, what should I do? There has to be some kind of a set-up.” He wanted to say “It’s a shame I’m not here to entertain you,” but he didn’t see Seth as the type of person to take such comments in stride. He sure as hell wasn’t, and he sensed a kindred spirit in the other man.
“Lemme fuckin’ think a sec,” Seth said. He got up and paced the room a bit, stopping in the kitchen for a small glass of water. He gulped the water down as if he were taking a shot of vodka, and then sat down next to Magnus, almost uncomfortably close. “Got it, heh. So, like I said, he doesn’t really seem like he fits in the band. …Think they shoulda kept you, heh,” he said with a smirk on his face. “You’re much tougher. That’s what fuckin’ metal’s all about, right?”
Magnus nodded with a quiet snicker. “Thanks, man.”
“So, I think Toki wouldn’t be able to pass up a chance t’feel like he really belonged somewhere, right? You just gotta find a way to give that to ‘im.”
“But how?” Magnus asked.
“Look, ‘m flattered ‘n’ all that you think I’ve got all the fuckin’ answers, but you just gotta look around. Keep your fuckin’ eyes peeled and all that. Anyway, once he feels like you understand him and all that bullshit? You turn ‘im against the band. Tear ‘em apart, cut ‘em down to size, heh. An’ there you have it - revenge. No longer livin’ in their fuckin’ shadows no more.”
Magnus steepled his hands in front of his chest and nodded slowly. His pulse was racing as he imagined carrying out this plan, and even though he didn’t know how he would lure Toki in yet, he was confident that he could make this all happen just as Seth was saying. “Got it. Thank you so much, Seth.” Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around the other man, who reacted only by leaning in.
"Let's keep gettin' fucked up," Seth whispered.
"Okay."
*****
A few months later, Magnus saw a flier near his apartment. “Counselors Wanted for Rock ’n’ Roll Fantasy Camp - MUST HAVE BAND EXPERIENCE.” This was it, this was his opportunity. He took it, he got in, he made sure a pamphlet was sent to Toki “from a fan”, and he befriended him.
Of course, things didn’t go quite as planned, but at least he was close to Dethklok again. Close enough to take his revenge.
When word of Toki’s disappearance from Cornickelson’s funeral reached Dethklok Australia, all Seth could do was smile. He was absolutely manic.
“And this couldn’t have happened without me,” He thought. “See? I am good for something.” That night, he slept with Amber for the first time in what must have been a year.
Reminder: If you're the creator of this submission, please don't reply to feedback (until the Big Reveal) unless you do so anonymously.
FROM: Your Secret Valentine
Title: Narkaos
Pairing: Seth/Magnus
Rating: R for language and drugs
Timeline: Pre-Dethcamp
Warnings: Canon-typical drug use
Seth’s mother’s praise meant nothing. Molly was a lowlife with no sense of self, no sense of what she wanted from life - only a deep sense of resentment for things not having turned out the way she told herself they should and a deeply rooted inability to feel any genuine gratitude for what she had. His brother’s success meant everything. It wasn’t fair that his neurotic wet blanket of a brother should rise to the top - not after putting a damper on nearly everything throughout their childhood by being a sickly, pathetic loser and a troublemaker who didn’t even know how to properly talk his way out of shit. If only Pickles had taken a page from his book, maybe he wouldn’t have gotten himself kicked out.
He had some real accomplishments under his belt: his release from prison, his involvement with the musicians he met in the joint, his temporary sobriety, his marriage to an ugly, scrawny, fish-eyed skank, and the fact that he was raising a son who grew increasingly resentful with every passing day. He had a rough time of things, he told himself. He deserved just as much recognition as his brother just for scraping by when the odds were stacked so highly against him. How could he have advanced as far as Pickles while having to grow up alongside his constant fights with their parents, his overt rebelliousness, and his inability to just be convenient? Surely, his descent into a life of crime and squandered potential was no fault of his own.
These sorts of platitudes and lies were what Seth told himself constantly, just to power through another day, another moment of being alive. He would look up pictures of his brother online every night after putting his son to bed, staring at them for hours on end, studying Pickles’ facial features and comparing them to his own. “See? You’re no better than me, ‘least in the looks department, heh,” he’d mutter to himself. This annoyed Amber to no end at first, but she grew used to it. Rather, she was forced to - better to stay quiet and pretend everything was fine than risk being vehemently accused of nagging or only caring about herself again. Ever since Pickles’ last visit to Australia, Seth rarely even got into bed before she went to sleep. No use waiting for him to crawl into bed with her, no use hoping for any intimacy - she suspected that he would pleasure himself to thoughts of achieving his brother’s level of fame and then be all tapped out after that. She turned to the mindless comfort of cell phone games.
One night, during one of his comparison sessions, he received an e-mail. The name it was addressed from sounded familiar. “Magnus Hammersmith.” Immediately, he remembered that name. That was the man who got kicked out of Dethklok. Seth had kept a close eye on his brother’s activities ever since he moved away to LA. He knew that Magnus and Pickles had once been close, up until Magnus lost his position in the band. How Magnus knew anything of Seth was something of a mystery, but he opened the e-mail immediately.
“Hello, Seth.
I am writing to you with the knowledge that our lives have been driven into the ground by the band called Dethklok. When I was part of the band, your brother always made himself out to be the victim, always made you out to be the bad guy. Now I know the truth, now that they surely do the same with me amongst themselves. Dethklok are nothing but arrogant tyrants, and I know they have oppressed you and ruined you as they have oppressed and ruined me.
Recently, I have joined forces with a group working to right the band’s many wrongs at all costs. This might be a bit much to ask, but if you could fly me out to Australia so we can discuss this in private, I would appreciate it very much. We can find a way to get to these spoiled scumbags and make sure we are never trapped in their shadows or their chaos ever again. From everything I know of you, you are a smart man with many good ideas. You know your way around.
If you decide to fly me out, I’m currently living near Detroit.
Thank you,
M.H.”
Seth glared at the e-mail with a toothy sneer on his face. Of course his brother whined to his bandmates about him constantly. That’s what whiners do. Still, how dare anyone try to turn anyone else against him after all he’d been through? The entire band deserved a come-uppance, and if he could say he played a role in that, perhaps that would be the ultimate accomplishment he needed in order to finally feel satisfied. As much as he hated giving money to inferiors, he decided he would pay for Magnus’ airfare and booked a flight.
“Hello, Magnus.
Thanks for your interest in meeting me. I’ve bought you a round-trip ticket. You’ll leave a week from today, stay for one night, and then go back to Michigan the next day. Hope this sounds fair. Will see you soon.
- Seth”
*****
Seth stood in the airport with his heaviest sunshades on. He could barely stand the smell or the sight of the people scrambling around him, poorly dressed and poorly bathed. He held up a whiteboard with the name “Hammersmith” written on it immaculately in red dry-erase marker - he refused to bear the indignity of using cardboard. Soon, Magnus stood in front of him, staring down at him. “Hello, Seth.”
“Oh! Fuckin’ Magnus, heh. Nice t’meet ya, man. C’mon,” Seth said, leading the way out of the airport. “Good thing y’only packed one fuckin’ bag, heh. I wasn’t gonna carry shit after spendin’ all this fuckin’ money.”
He wasn’t quite what Seth had imagined. He was scrawny, with long, frizzy hair and a glass eye - he could have easily blended in with the homeless veterans he used to see back in the States. He carried himself differently, though - he carried himself with purpose. Seth supposed he did so to make up for the fact that he had amounted to absolutely nothing. Calmness came over him as he realized this. This man who was plotting revenge against the band and asking for his help was literally nowhere in life, living in some slum most likely, and he was the head of Dethklok Australia. He’d almost forgotten about that, even as he put work into it every day. It’s easy to forget the things we think we’re owed, after all.
“So, ah, Seth. Where are we going?”
“Got a li’l hotel room for ya. Figured we could talk there, heh,” Seth replied.
“Do you think you could slow down just a little bit? I’m not familiar with this city at all, man,” Magnus complained.
Seth slowed his pace. “That better? We’re almost there,” he grumbled.
Magnus nodded and turned his gaze toward the busy streets. The two of them walked one more block before they reached a modest hotel building.
“An’ here we are, heh. Come on, I’ll check you in.”
“Thank you for this. I realized I could have put you through less trouble and had this conversation some other way…” Magnus intoned as he followed Seth through the automatic glass doors.
Seth turned around and faced Magnus, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Nah, are you kidding? Y’know Dethklok’s got their own fuckin’ police force now, right? They kill kids, fuckin’ little kids, for downloading their albums. If we left a fuckin’ trail with what we were sayin’ to one another, I could’ve lost my fuckin’ job, or worse. ‘M worried enough about the two e-mails we exchanged. Hopefully I fuckin’ deleted ‘em before one o’ Ofdensen’s lackeys went through all the fuckin’ employee data ‘n’ not after, heh.”
Magnus blinked and crossed his arms. “Well, damn, then I certainly hope so, too. Again, thank you for doing this,” he whispered gruffly.
Seth smirked, baring more teeth than geniality. “Don’ mention it, heh.”
Seth checked Magnus into his room and followed him up the elevator. Once they were inside, Seth drew the curtains as tightly as they would go. “So, Magnus. Ya party?”
“When I can afford it. Which is almost never,” Magnus scoffed.
“Figures, heh. Well, I brought somethin’ for us. Somethin’ I always find helps the little plannin’ process along, heh.” Seth produced a bag of cocaine from one of the inside pockets of his jacket.
“Nice. How’d you not get torn apart by dogs at the airport with that?” Magnus asked.
“Dipped the bag in tabasco sauce before I left, throws ‘em off. Dogs’re fuckin’ dumb,” Seth snickered.
Magnus smiled. “I guess I’ll have to keep that trick in mind.”
Seth put some coke out onto the smooth, glass coffee table and divided it up into four lines using a credit card. He rolled up a bill and snorted two lines in succession, then handed the bill to Magnus, who appeared a bit spaced out.
“What’s wrong? Jet lag? This’ll wake you up real good, heh.”
“Yeah, guess so,” Magnus muttered, taking the bill. He prepared to snort the other two lines when he realized how his hair dangled in front of his face. He pushed it back behind his ears and insufflated. “Damn, forgot how much that burns,” he said with a dry laugh.
Magnus stretched out his arms as he felt the drug take hold - it felt as if a cool, mountain breeze blew through his veins. “So,” he said, leaning forward towards Seth. “I’ve got a group of guys who are very good at kidnapping. They can practically make their victims unrecognizable. I just gotta find out… Among the current members of Dethklok, who’s the weakest, most gullible one? You’ve got a closer eye on them than I do, what with handling their shows over here.”
“Well, they’re all fuckin’ stupid, but, uh, what’s his name, what’s his fuckin’ name,” Seth mumbled, pouring out some more cocaine and snorting another line. “Toki. Sensitive li’l European pussy. I’ve never really been that into metal or anythin’ like that, but he didn’t seem right for a metal band, heh. Got drunk off his ass at my wedding party, puked on my great-aunt’s shoes, and showed up with a fuckin’ blender as his fuckin’ gift. Of all the things he could’ve afforded to get me, bein’ in fuckin’ Dethklok!” He snorted yet another line. “You registereds for it at Crates and Barrels!! ” He mocked. “Point bein’, he’s a fuckin’ idiot, you can probably lure ‘im into anything.”
Magnus crossed his arms and sunk back into the sofa. “I see. He’s the one who replaced me. Did you know that?”
Seth paused for a moment, and shrugged. “Hey, c’mon, do s’more coke, you’re bein’ kind of a buzz-kill, heh,” Seth urged, tapping more of the white powder out of the bag.
“Fine,” Magnus rasped and snorted a few more lines. “So, then, what should I do? There has to be some kind of a set-up.” He wanted to say “It’s a shame I’m not here to entertain you,” but he didn’t see Seth as the type of person to take such comments in stride. He sure as hell wasn’t, and he sensed a kindred spirit in the other man.
“Lemme fuckin’ think a sec,” Seth said. He got up and paced the room a bit, stopping in the kitchen for a small glass of water. He gulped the water down as if he were taking a shot of vodka, and then sat down next to Magnus, almost uncomfortably close. “Got it, heh. So, like I said, he doesn’t really seem like he fits in the band. …Think they shoulda kept you, heh,” he said with a smirk on his face. “You’re much tougher. That’s what fuckin’ metal’s all about, right?”
Magnus nodded with a quiet snicker. “Thanks, man.”
“So, I think Toki wouldn’t be able to pass up a chance t’feel like he really belonged somewhere, right? You just gotta find a way to give that to ‘im.”
“But how?” Magnus asked.
“Look, ‘m flattered ‘n’ all that you think I’ve got all the fuckin’ answers, but you just gotta look around. Keep your fuckin’ eyes peeled and all that. Anyway, once he feels like you understand him and all that bullshit? You turn ‘im against the band. Tear ‘em apart, cut ‘em down to size, heh. An’ there you have it - revenge. No longer livin’ in their fuckin’ shadows no more.”
Magnus steepled his hands in front of his chest and nodded slowly. His pulse was racing as he imagined carrying out this plan, and even though he didn’t know how he would lure Toki in yet, he was confident that he could make this all happen just as Seth was saying. “Got it. Thank you so much, Seth.” Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around the other man, who reacted only by leaning in.
"Let's keep gettin' fucked up," Seth whispered.
"Okay."
*****
A few months later, Magnus saw a flier near his apartment. “Counselors Wanted for Rock ’n’ Roll Fantasy Camp - MUST HAVE BAND EXPERIENCE.” This was it, this was his opportunity. He took it, he got in, he made sure a pamphlet was sent to Toki “from a fan”, and he befriended him.
Of course, things didn’t go quite as planned, but at least he was close to Dethklok again. Close enough to take his revenge.
When word of Toki’s disappearance from Cornickelson’s funeral reached Dethklok Australia, all Seth could do was smile. He was absolutely manic.
“And this couldn’t have happened without me,” He thought. “See? I am good for something.” That night, he slept with Amber for the first time in what must have been a year.
Reminder: If you're the creator of this submission, please don't reply to feedback (until the Big Reveal) unless you do so anonymously.