Surprises that a cat can bring pt 1 of 5

Title:  Surprises that a cat can bring pt 1 of 5
Rating: General/Teen
Series: Metalocalypse
Characters/Pairings/Couples: William Murderface, Toki Wartooth, Nathan Explosion, Skwisgaar Skwigelf & Pickles the Drummer, a hint of William/Toki
Part of: Random Word Drabbles
Beta: No Beta, all mistakes are my own
Summary: Things start to disappear and of course he gets blamed for it, even if he didn’t have anything to do with it.  He makes a strange friend that takes him and Toki on an unwanted adventure.
Notes: I want a flerken, one or two or multiple.  This isn’t a crossover, but if the Doomstar could happen, why not a flerken? And thought if one became attached to William, what would the Flerken do?  I also think this at least lean towards Murdertooth.  At least a little bit, which is one of my favorite pairings, outside of explosionface.  This was supposed to be a drabble, no long is a drabble.  Word Prompt is Cats.

I don’t know how to write Skwisgaar and Toki :(. Could this be considered a crack fic?

Cats (Flerken)

He could have sworn he left food on his bed when he left the bathroom.  A plate with a sandwich he had made himself, as messy as it was, loaded with things he slapped together was now gone. A cursory glance around the room told him that he hadn’t placed it anywhere else.  A check under the covers, then the bed.

Gone.

Not even a crumb out of place.

Frustration bubbling up, grabbing the door and slamming it open with all the force he had.  Stomping up the stairs towards the kitchen, he didn’t hear the soft steps following him from the shadows.  The slow blink of glowing eyes.

–

Slowly, over the following days and weeks his food would up and just disappear.  Not just his food, Toki’s snacks and candy would disappear.  The blanket he would use as a pillow vanished, Pickles’ collection of imported bottles of alcohol and Nathan’s boots.

Not just one, but all his boots.

Missing.

Fingers were pointed everywhere, he was blamed for a lot of it. 

“Why the fuck would I have anything to do with those damned bootsch?”

He argued when another pair disappeared, crossing his arms tightly in front of himself as he glared at Nathan

“Because you’re fucked up like that, Murderface,” Nathan shot back, sick and tired of the mess the bassist made for him. 

A snort of laughter from Toki, William turned his glare onto the rhythm guitarist.  The hint of a smile that Toki wore told him he couldn’t do anything.

“I told you I didn’t take your goddamned bootsch!”

Spittle flew as he shouted, the knife he  held, stabbed hard into the table top.  “I don’t have a shoe fetish like someone,” he grounded out as he gave the four a look.  It was true.  As much fucked up shit he was into, feet and shoes just did nothing for him.

“Thans’ what’s ams about the yard wolves?” Skwisgaar asked, voice rising.  “Has you beens hunting thems?”

Yard wolves?  

“What?”

“Yous heard me.  Them yard wolves, they ams gone,” Skwisgaar folded his arms across his chest.  “Has you been hunting thems?”

William took a moment, confused and staring at the blond.  First being accused of taking Nathan’s boots and now this?  

“How the fuck did you come up with that?” He ground out, pressing his lips together to keep from shouting.  “Why the fuck am I being accused for all thisch?  I had nothing to do with bootsch, missing schit and now thisch?  Just becausche I have gunsch you think I went and hunted the yard wolvesch?”

Skwisgaar gave a shrug in response, keeping his gaze forward.

“No, to anschwer your damn queschtion, I didn’t hunt the yard wolves.  They’re mangy and full of paraschitesch.  If I were to hunt,” he poked his finger towards Skwisgaar, “it would be schome game.  Schomething that can be cooked up and eaten!”

William let his words hang in the air, reaching for the knife he had stabbed into the table.  It helped a little to have something to do with his hands under the scrutiny of the other four.  It was a little strange to be outright accused of something he didn’t do.  Normally it would be for things he had already done.

Seeing the four gather closer together, though they had attempted to speak quietly, he could easily hear what was being spoken.  His name was mentioned several times, curling his fingers tighter around the handle.  Today will be another day with more scars that will slowly heal.  Resisting the urge to just take the knife to his wrist or fuck, any body part will do.  

A little chirp of sound caught his attention, the figure of a cat jumping up on the table and trotting towards him.  The chattering between the four died down as they watched the orange and white creature vocalize its presence with a rather loud “Meow”.  William watched as the creatures sniffed at him, rubbing against the hand that held the knife.  The loud purr from the cat surprised him, animals rarely took interest in him.  

“Ohhh, wowie!”

Toki broke away from the group to lean against the table to see the cat better.  Fingers that were held out for the creature to sniff, a sound of disappointment when the cat turned away to rub against him.

“Here kitty,” Toki tried again, a little discouraged at being snubbed by the cat.  Watching as William held out his thick fingers for the cat to sniff and rub.  Watching with jealousy as the cat leaned forward, placing its front paws on the bassist’s arms to sniff, nudge and rub against that ridiculous mustache.

“Don’t think bringing a cat in here will keep us from talking about this, Murderface,” Nathan began, frustration in his voice.  “I’m tired of having to replace my boots.  Just return-”

The cat that had taken such a liking to him gave a large yawn, headbutting his chin while cutting Nathan off from what he was saying.

“That’s ams nots fair,” the pout from Toki.  The scrape of a chair as Toki got up and walked around to where he sat.  

William stilled his movements under Toki’s gaze, feeling heat rising to his cheeks.  Why the fuck was he blushing?  He knew Toki wasn’t watching him, but the cat.  The cat that happened to stop and peered at him, turning to stare at the younger man.  It didn’t take genius to figure out there was something different with the cat.  As if the animal was smarter than any normal cat.

“I ams a bits jealous, how’s come a cool cats likes this likes you?”

“Hey!  Plenty of catsch like me,” he defended himself.  “See?”

Holding out his hand to the cat, watching with just a little bit of amazement.  Purring dialed up even louder as the animal tried to get as close as they could.  Hesitantly reaching out a finger, rubbing and scratching at the white fur under the cat’s chin.  He had forgotten about what had been going on with the others, enjoying the attention the cat was giving him when the purring quickly died off.  The scrapping of a chair being pushed back as Nathan stood up and slammed his fists on the table.

Ears laying back as the cat stood up and eyed the vocalist who kept his attention on Murderface.  The cat that had been giving him so much attention turned around, giving him a little lick on the nose before opening its mouth wide.  He hadn’t expected to see Eldritch like tentacles emerge, writhing and thrashing violently before grabbing him.  Being swallowed down, not in the way he had dreamt of, he barely heard the shouts.  The fact that Toki reached for him as he was grabbed.  Both of them disappeared into the cat’s small body with no problem.  A meow from the cat that had swallowed down two Dethklok members, a look sent to the three before the cat bounded off the table and out of the room.

It took Nathan a second, one that seemed to last ages before he gathered himself to chase after the cat.  Pickles and Skwisgaar hot on his heels, all three unable to fully comprehend what had happened.

Dream

Title: Dream
Rating: Teen
Series: Metalocalypse
Pairings/Couples: William Murderface, Nathan Explosion, Pickles
Part of: Random Word Drabbles
Beta: No Beta, all mistakes are my own
Summary: Usually self medicating works, this time it doesn’t.
Notes: I don’t know what I was thinking. Though I imagine if WMurderface is sick, instead of admitting it, he’d try to medicate himself and drink a lot of NyQuil. Or get his hands on some that have been tampered with. But I also imagine that he could have some sort of connection to something cosmic horror like. Maybe some sort of idol he bought/stole? Word prompt is Dream.

He could swear everything was real, from the starry sky spinning above to the waves crashing against the rocks below.  Icy wind blowing in from the nightmare of a sea that seemed just a little too familiar.  Stars above him spun faster, echoing the whine of grating metal.  Constellations that didn’t make sense, though he would admit he knew nothing about star positions.

He tried to take in a deep breath, the air tasting foreign on his tongue.  Feeling as though his skin was on fire, he tried to move only to stumble and fall over the edge.  Welcoming the cold embrace he closed his eyes.

The sharp slap to his face woke him from the heavy dream.  He wasn’t in his bedroom nor anywhere close, sprawled on the concrete balcony in a daze.

“What the fuck, Murderface?”

The gravel voice had him trying to see through blurry, unfocused eyes.  Trying to talk, speak, anything, all that came out was a croak of his voice.  He couldn’t speak and trying to cough did nothing to help.

Trying again to clear his throat shot pain through him before Pickles hesitated for a moment and touched his forehead with a look of concern.  The hiss and a jerk of a hand back, eyebrows rising and shake of a head.

“Dood, I think he’s sick.  Some kinda fever dream,” a shrug of a thin shoulder.  “Maybe he drank too much NyQuil and had some freaky trip.”

The nod of a dark head, Murderface tried not to look at the faceless entity over a freckled shoulder.  He didn’t put up much of a fuss as the two pushed him towards his room.   He tried not to look around, just the silent footsteps behind him.