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vincess-princess · 4 months

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in darkness shall you be reborn

Chapter 15

Word count: 2789 Warnings: some blood A/N: rejoice, for i am almost done with college (for this semester) and have much more time and energy, hence this chapter. consider it a christmas present <3

By the time the potato fortress was demolished, the bandage on Vince’s shoulder had grown soggy and heavy, and underneath dumb pain accompanied every Vince’s movement, occasionally sharpening into spikes. When Mick turned away to fiddle with the pot on the stove, Vince unbuttoned his shirt and peeled off the three-day-old bandage.

The wound didn’t look promising, with the skin between the stitches red and inflamed, and the thread dark and wet with blood. If it had been healing, the process surely was disrupted. This really begged for a doctor, but he had just refused to do that to Mick’s face, so going to a surgeon would mean admitting defeat, and Vince had enough of it today. Besides, while death of infection wasn’t among the ways to kill himself that he considered, but for lack of alternatives…

A hand grasped his forearm, startling him. The bandage fell onto the ground with an audible plop. Not paying that any mind, Mick silently dragged him to the door and then along the corridor to the sick bay. Vince didn’t resist. It made sense with Nikki. Not with Mick.

Izzy the surgeon wasn’t alone. A familiar redhead was sitting on the bunk in the sick bay and sipping beer from a mug. There was a talk in hushed voices going on, but it was, naturally, stopped as Mick barged in without a knock and unceremoniously shoved Vince inside.

“Take care of this idiot before I do,” he only said and, not sparing Vince another look, slammed the door shut.

“Wow.” Axl raised an eyebrow. “Never seen the old man so pissed. What did you do, hump his guitar?”

“I wish,” Vince jerked his shoulder, annoyed, but then the pain in it flared up, making him wince. Izzy the surgeon frowned, and Vince belatedly remembered he wasn’t supposed to disclose his and Axl’s connection to anyone on the ship. Well, that one reply didn’t mean anything, right?

“You got him so angry and didn’t even use the chance to hump his guitar?” Axl continued, making Izzy snort. That was the first time Vince heard him make a sound since he dryly informed him about that same shoulder wound during his first visit to sick bay.

“You seem unhealthily fixated on it, should I tell Mick to lock it up at night?” Vince replied half-mindedly, eyeing the surgeon nervously. Stopping in the middle of a conversation now would seem stranger than continuing it. Izzy, however, observed the battle of wits with no sign of surprise. No sign of anything, really. It was hard to see his eyes at all underneath the long, greasy hair and in the dim light of the sick bay.

“Oh, so he doesn’t lock her up?” Axl grinned. “Pray tell, where does he keep her?”

“Whatever you’re thinking of, I wouldn’t recommend it. You try to cross the galley’s threshold at night, you’re getting an early breakfast. Of lead.”

“Really? Does he also shoot at you when you go out for a piss?”

Vince nodded. He might have exaggerated Mick’s reaction a bit, to keep any night eaters’ hopes low. Just a bit, though, because anyone breaking down the closed door at night was guaranteed a couple extra holes.

“Oh you poor thing, can’t even go take a leak?” Axl didn’t sound too pitiful, more amused, and that felt good.

“Oh, I can. You don’t want to know where, though.”

“Ew-w-w!” Even Izzy couldn’t hold back a cry of disgust. Vince took it as his little personal victory. He had already learned that the reaction to this type of humor was deceptive. If the pirates didn’t love the joke, they wouldn’t say anything at all, and that silence could kill faster than staying in the same room with a dozen pirates who had beans for dinner. “Yeah, I’ll think twice before eating anything from the galley now.”

“Think as much as you want, you’ll eat it anyway. May I?” Without waiting for an answer, Vince reached out for Axl’s unfinished mug of beer and finished it off in two gulps. Watching Axl’s jaw loosen in indignation was quite entertaining. And reassuring, because whatever Nikki had said, those two treated him rather decently so far, even when he obviously overstepped the boundaries.

“You recovered rather quickly,” another voice said from behind Vince’s back. Izzy. “Surprising.”

“Really?” Vince abruptly turned on his heels towards Izzy. His face gave no indication of whether the last comment was meant positively or negatively, but Vince had a feeling that if it was the latter, the surgeon wouldn’t initiate the talk at all. “Why?”

“Well,” one corner of Izzy’s mouth curved ever so slightly, “last time you were here, you were trembling like a leaf and couldn’t string two words together. I didn’t expect you’d last the night.”

Not a muscle had moved in the surgeon’s face, but he tilted his head to the left slightly… it might have been the dim light of the sick bay and the shadows of Izzy’s hair falling on his face, but the nothingness of his face had an ironic undertone now.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, you were rather… distraught. You lost everything you had, including your vir… dignity. You don’t look the hardy type to me, and that would be the easiest way out.”

“Well, it wasn’t,” Vince said in a strangled voice. “If I die, I die of this infection that Mick dragged me here for. Stop talking nonsense and deal with it instead.”

“Hey, drop that tone,” Axl demanded, his voice suddenly stern. “Order your servants around with it- oh right, you don’t have any. Nobody owes you anything anymore.”

“Ax, relax,” Izzy said lazily, rising from his chair. “Old habits slip through in everyone sometimes. You, for example, still can’t take a shit when there’s someone else on the poop deck, and captain still expects us to know what minuet is. Shirt off.” That last one was addressed to Vince, who hastily pulled his shirt over his head. Izzy grabbed a candle and leaned forward, examining the wound, the candle so close Vince could feel the heat with his skin. He sure hoped Izzy’s hand wouldn’t slip.

“Let’s see… Haven’t I fixed it before? Yeah, those are my stitches… holy shit. It takes an effort to fuck up my work this badly. What you been doing with them?”

“Not me,” Vince said gloomily.

“Ah.” No emotion on the pale face once again. It contrasted especially starkly with Axl’s grimace on the background. “Well, tell the captain that if he keeps that up, he might lose his favorite whipping boy in a couple of months at best. This one looks fixable, but if they add up it’s gonna get real bad.”

“If I tell him that, it will take much less than a couple months.” Vince much preferred when they discussed his night pissing accommodations.

“C’mon, it’s not in his interest. It’s not like you can find pretty captives on every ship you raid. It was three years between you and Axl. Pretty boys don’t usually go seafaring – for obvious reasons.”

“But Axl said-“ Vince turned to the redhead, then caught himself. Izzy seemed aware, but to what extent?

“Yeah, he got luckier than you. Doesn’t mean that wasn’t one of the reasons,” Izzy interrupted him. Ah, so he was fully aware. Interesting that Axl didn’t consider it worthwhile to tell him about their little club. “Ax, get off the bunk. I’m gonna have to stitch him anew. Here, lie down.”

He pressed on Vince’s shoulder, pushing him to lie onto his back, then opened a cabinet and extracted a bottle of water out of it and a surgeon’s kit.

“Hold this.” He handed Vince the water. As Vince discovered three seconds later, it was actually vodka. A shitty painkiller, but better than nothing.

“Hey!” Izzy caught Vince red-handed sipping out of the bottle. “You parasite! That’s for medical purposes. Give that to me.”

“I’m self-medicating!” Vince protested, reluctantly handing back the bottle. The only upside of vodka was that it didn’t take much of it to get piss drunk, though, so he wasn’t too upset about the loss.

“For external use!”

“Why? If you want to clean the wound with it, why not just use water? And I could find a better use for this heavenly beverage.”

“Are you telling me how to do my job? Maybe you’ll patch yourself up too then and save everyone the trouble?” Izzy gave Vince a blank stare that impressed him more than any frown Axl could master. “No? Then don’t act all smart here. Stretch out the arm.”

He got down onto his knees next to the bunk and leaned close to the wound, carefully stretching the skin a little to get a better look at it. Then he cut the thread with small scissors and abruptly pulled it out.

“Ouch!”

“Don’t be such a pussy,” Izzy rolled his eyes. “At least, not more than you already are.”

Vince wouldn’t have swallowed the insult so meekly if the surgeon wasn’t just about the only person capable of fixing his wound. Without the thread the torn edges of the wound widened, exposing black, clotted blood inside. Vince winced.

“Could be worse,” Izzy waved him off. “It just started to inflame. I don’t see any pus there so far.” Then he pulled out a patch of fabric and the aforementioned vodka bottle and, before Vince managed to realise what was happening, poured vodka all over it.

A second passed, and then Vince threw his head back with a howl as the liquid burned exposed flesh and the skin around it. Izzy promptly pressed the fabric to the wound, pushing Vince back onto the bunk, and held him down as he cursed and hissed. Then he began cleaning out the dried blood with the cloth, and Vince discovered he knew even more curse words than he thought. Thankfully, he did the job quickly enough for Vince to only cycle through his collection of curses three times.

“This should be a torture technique!” he protested once he was again capable of coherent speech. “Wouldn’t water do the job just as well?”

“No.” Izzy threw the bloody cloth on the floor. “Over my years of practice I discovered that the wounds cleaned with vodka or other highly alcoholic beverages have much lower chance of inflaming. And you need that chance. I can’t really chop off a shoulder in case there’s a gangrene.”

Vince, realizing this was a real possibility, went quiet. Izzy, meanwhile, grabbed a needle, threaded it and then dipped it into the flame of the candle. For a second Vince believed the thread would catch fire, but Izzy knew what he was doing. After a couple minutes of this he removed it, tried to touch it with his fingers, cursed under his breath and blew onto the blunt tip. When it presumably cooled enough, he grabbed the needle and lowered himself onto a stool next to the bed.

“Now hold still. You fidget too much, I’ll have to ask Axl to pin you down.”

“You don’t want that,” Axl, who until now had been observing the scene with an interest one would express to a circus performance, confirmed from the back.

“Aren’t you going to wait until the needle cools down?” Vince asked warily.

“No. It will hurt anyway.” With that, Izzy began to stitch.

The stab wound was small and only took him a few minutes to stitch up, but to Vince they were hours. He gripped the edge of the bed so tightly his fingers went numb, and bit his lips so hard he drew blood. But, for the first time on the Shout, the pain was inflicted without a purpose to hurt, and so he kept silent, save for an occasional pained gasp.

“All done.” Izzy rose from his stool and wiped his bloody fingers and the needle with a towel. “And you didn’t have to be all tough and manly about it. Crying actually helps relieve the pain.”

“Yeah, so you get more excuses to call me a pussy?” Vince huffed, sitting up on the bunk and putting his feet onto the floor. His bloodied knees poked out of his pants, drawing a disproportionate amount of attention.

“Whoa, man,” Axl whistled in amazement, “you seen his knees? To fucking shreds! The blowjob must have been insane.”

Izzy raised his eyebrows. “Huh. The captain sure doesn’t fuck around. You might want to get these cleaned and bandaged, though.”

“I might, if you two stop talking bollocks,” Vince said through gritted teeth.

“That’s only in your interest,” Izzy shrugged, wetting a cloth with vodka and handing it to him. “These can get infected too.”

“I- ouch!- know.” Vince dabbed the cloth onto one knee, then another. He didn’t even have to take off his pants for that, which was convenient.

“Any other injuries I should know about?”

“None that I recall,” Vince said curtly.

“Man, if that’s just his knees, imagine what the captain is doing to his ass,” Axl said from behind Izzy’s back. “Maybe he’s just too shy to ask you about it.”

“If you don’t shut up, I will do something much worse to your ass,” Vince promised.

“Oh-oh, so scary.” Axl threw his hands up in pretended surrender, but had to cut the act short to dodge from the candle holder Vince hurled at him. He promptly picked it up to throw it back, but Izzy was quicker.

“Stop that right now!” He snatched the candle holder from Axl’s hand. “I won’t tolerate a mess in my workplace!” For the first time Vince heard an actual emotion in his voice – anger. “Rose, get the hell out!”

“Hey! He started that!” Axl protested.

“I don’t care. He needs my services, and you’re here just to gawk. Get out or I’ll make you.” The surgeon was thinner and lighter than Axl, but Vince didn’t doubt for a second that he could easily do that. Axl seemed to be of the same opinion, because he got up and disappeared behind the door, muttering indignantly under his breath.

“You done?” Izzy turned back to Vince like nothing happened and crouched next to the bunk to look at his knees. “Well, you certainly didn’t try your hardest. Gimme.”

He quickly and relentlessly wiped up the rest of the clotted blood off Vince’s knees and bandaged them.

“Try not to kneel much in the next few days. Even if the captain wants you to. Tell him I said so.”

“I will make sure to pass your recommendations on to him,” Vince promised grimly. “After which he, in turn, will make sure to break every single one of them. Thanks for the help. Drop by the galley when you can. I don’t have much influence over Mick, but I can coax an extra mug of beer out of him for you.”

“You sure know your strengths.” Izzy smiled with corners of his mouth. “I’ll consider it. Now off you go.”

Well, out of all of “get the fuck out of here” variations this one was rather polite. Vince, not wishing to test Izzy’s patience any longer, left the sick bay and almost bumped into Axl, who was waiting patiently by the door.

“You could have told me that Izzy knows about us before I had to find it out by trial and error!” Vince poked him in the chest accusingly.

“Well, it didn’t end in error after all, right?” Axl waved his hand carelessly. “Besides, I wanted to see how you’d hold up in the presence of another person. I gotta say, I thought you had better manners.”

“Learning from you all,” Vince grumbled. “Anyone else aware you haven’t told me about?”

“Nope. Izzy’s the only one on this ship I can trust.” Axl sighed.

“Three years, and you’ve only made one friend? You’re not a social type, aren’t you?”

“I’ll look at you in three years and see how you’re faring,” Axl scowled. “If you’re still alive, that is. The captain sure is hot-headed, but within reason. You must be a terrible pain in the ass to end up so beaten.”

“I’m not-“ Vince began, but realized anything he said would be taken as proof of that. A pain in the ass, a bother, an annoyance. None of the pirates would ever see past this description, would never believe it wasn’t his fault. They believed their precious captain would never do that on his own volition, and together with general disregard of the “blue bloods” it was enough for them to shift the blame completely onto Vince’s shoulders.

He gave Axl a deadly glare and stormed down the corridor to the galley.

#vince neil #axl rose #izzy stradlin #pirate au #in darkness shall you be reborn #motley crue #motley crue au #guns n roses #guns n roses au #had SO MUCH FUN writing axl&izzy dynamics. wanted to introduce izzy for so long. hope yall love him i sure do #for yall whove been sending me messages these past two months: feast. i love yall you've really been lifting my spirits over these months #and i sure needed it. the hole was dark and deep #my writing #POSTED TO WRONG BLOG FIRST SORRY

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mxliv-oftheendless · 2 years

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The Dream

LOOK WHO’S BAAAAACK!!! It’s me, back in the writing saddle, just in time for Pride Month! Happy Pride, everyone! And what better way to celebrate Pride than by writing about two bi4bi vampires, amirite??

So today’s story is part of @cosmicrealmofkissteria ‘s Vampy Sixx AU, the master list for which can be found here! You may want to read the sequel story, “Old Life, New Desire,” just to really get the context for the story. But after you do that, or if you choose not to do that, read on and enjoy!! It’s good to be back!

Paul and Mick share a coffin… and it makes Mick have a very intense dream…

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“What a gentleman you are, Mick Mars. There is nothing I would enjoy more than sharing a coffin with you.”

Shit. What did I just do? I’m seriously letting my feelings get the better of me. How could I let myself suggest sleeping in the same coffin to a vampire I’ve only known this one night? A vampire on the run from a Hunter, no less.

Damn, the kid’s gonna think you’re insane. He probably already does. I wouldn’t blame him—I think I’m insane right now.

But then again… seeing his grateful, almost relieved smile as he gets out of his coffin makes me reconsider. I couldn’t not say anything to him after that panic attack. As naive as it sounds… I feel sorry for him. He has to be terrified for his life right now.

Paul gets into my coffin and lies down next to me. I close the lid and get down next to him. We’re so close, our noses are almost touching. “You good?” I ask.

“Yes. It’s cozy,” he remarks with a chuckle. He sighs and looks up at the coffin lid. “I remember I used to hate sleeping alone…”

I’m not sure what to say. What can I say?

“Listen…” I have to push back the urge to take his hand. “I know Heather. She’ll make sure you’re safe. And… And I’ll help too. You ever need a place to stay, you can come here.”

I can see Paul’s smile in the dark. He has such a pretty smile. “I’m grateful, really. Not sure your Fledgling would like that, though.”

“Well, he’ll have to deal with it. We know what it’s like to be hunted.”

“There’s a story to that… but I doubt your fledgling would want me to know.”

“No… No, he wouldn’t.”

“I didn’t think so. Well… I suppose we should sleep.”

“Yeah… Yeah, we should.”

But why do we have to go to sleep? Why don’t I get on top of you, pin you down, and finally kiss those sinfully red lips that have been teasing me all night—

I growl quietly. I need to focus.

“Something wrong?”

Dammit, he’s smirking. “No. Nothing’s wrong.”

“You sure? You just growled.”

“No, I didn’t.” Yes, you did.

“Alright, have it your way.” He shifts a little, then settles, closing his eyes. “Goodnight.”

“Night,”

I close my eyes, and try to sleep. Drift off into a nice, dreamless sleep…

But sleep isn’t what I want. And I figure, why stop denying myself what I really want?

I roll over and pin Paul to the floor of the coffin. We’re chest to chest in the enclosed space.

I hear him laugh in the dark. “I thought you’d never do this,”

“Took me some time. But I got there.”

“Well, you’re not gonna stop here, are you?”

Definitely not.

I finally press my lips to his in a hard kiss. His lips are so soft… they’re so perfect. He tastes like blood and wine… fuck it’s so hot. He lets out a soft sigh and clings to my neck, bringing it down and keeping it in place.

A growl rips through my throat. He’s so hot… I want him. All of him. I want to claim him and make him mine.

I let my fangs extend and bite his bottom lip. He gasps in delight. I want more. I want to whip him into a frenzy.

My hands tear open his shirt and I let my claws drag down his chest. He whines in pleasure and lets his own claws drag over my skin. It feels so good… so right.

So right, that I rear my head back, open my mouth, and bite down on his neck.

He lets out a soft cry, then moans and relaxes, clinging to my back. I hold him close in a tight grip. I’m never letting this gorgeous being go. I want to stay here, in this coffin, with him, for the rest of eternity.

I release his neck and kiss him again. There’s blood on my lips from his neck and it’s probably staining his mouth, but holy hell that sounds hot.

He moans into my mouth and ruts up against my leg. I groan at how good it feels. Fuck, I haven’t don’t something like this in decades. Why did I do that to myself?

“Mmm… Mick,” he moans into my ear when I move down to his neck again. I ignore him, licking up the blood instead. He tastes so good… “Mick…”

“MICK!”

I jerk awake. The fuck…? Where’s Paul? I thought we were…

“Jeez, finally. Thought you were in a coma for a second.”

I look up and find Nikki standing over me with his arms crossed in the way that always means he’s impatient. It’s dark outside again… I slept through the whole day… I fantasized about fucking Paul the whole day…

“Fuck…” I rub my head and sit up. “Sorry, kid. Where’s…?”

Nikki scowls at the reference to Paul. “Oh, him? He woke up before I did. Did you tell him he could watch TV?”

“No. But if he’s staying here…”

“Come on!” he whines. “The Blob is on tonight!”

I chuckle and shake my head. Kid loves his horror movies. “I’ll be there in a second.”

“Good.” Nikki turns to leave, then looks back. “Oh yeah, Heather called too. She’s coming over in an hour or something.”

Heather? “She say why?”

“Nah. She said she’s been asking around about any Hunters that came to LA, though.”

If she’s coming over… she might have found out something. “Alright. I’ll be out in a second, kid.”

As soon as Nikki leaves the room, I sigh and drag a hand over my face. I can’t believe this. I’ve only known this guy for one night. One night. And I’m already fantasizing about sleeping with him. Jesus damn Christ…

I need to get my shit together. This cannot happen again. And it’s not like what I’m imagining will ever be reality. Once this Hunter is found and dealt with, he’ll go back to New York, probably.

I hate how awful that sounds to me.

Fuck… I’m really in trouble.

“Gimme the fucking remote!”

“I was using it, fledgling,”

“Don’t call me that! And Mick said I could use it!”

“Ooh, will he be mad at me? Hope he doesn’t punish me~”

“Yech—MICK!”

I better go deal with that… If I don’t, the kid’s probably gonna tear Paul’s hair out.

I shake my head and get out of my coffin. Heather will be here soon; that’ll help distract me. The important thing is, no one can know what I dreamed about last night. Not Heather, not Nikki… especially not Paul.

#vampy sixx~#kiss au writing #motley crue au #motley crue fic #vampire au #paul x mick #hope you enjoyed!#i feel really insecure about my smut skills #it’s been a while since I wrote one lol #yeah they’re bi4bi because vampire!mick and vampire!paul are DEFINITELY bi #i feel like this can segue into future chapters which is what I wanted to do anyway #thanks for reading!

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fearmakess · 1 month

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#art #art study #star wars #anakin skywalker #star wars anakin #sw anakin #obi wan and anakin #obikin #modern #modern au #motley crue #illustration #illustrator #artists on tumblr #digital artist #digital art #darth vader

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marvelobsessed134 · 11 months

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Honeymoon suite (Rockstar!Bucky x fem!reader)

Summary: You and Bucky are newly weds and have a passionate night in your honeymoon suite

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, literally feels hot, Sebastian Stan as Tommy Lee is a warning in itself he’s so hot, talks of breeding kink.

A/n: There’s not really a set time period this fic takes place but I like to think it’s the late eighties or early/mid nineties

The room was beautiful, a red and pink color scheme that was very cheesy and sexy at the same time. A heart shaped bathtub was something that excited you, which is what you were in right now. Straddling Bucky’s lap as you made out with him furiously. His tattooed arms wrapped tightly around your body. You took a break to drink more champagne, and you looked at your reflection in the mirror behind you.

Bucky pulled you back down and kissed you again, nibbling on your bottom lip. “Mmm you taste so good, baby.” He husked and you can feel him growing hard between your thighs, his dick touching your pussy that was drenched both from being in water and the current activity you were engaged in. “You gonna let me fuck this pussy right here and now?” He asked and you nodded quickly. The drummer chuckled before sliding his dick inside you you. He slid in easily, and moaned at the fact.

Your brows furrowed, bottom lip trembling as you felt his whole length enter you, and you rocked your hips before slowly moving up and down. You could barely contain your moans once Bucky’s thumb started rubbing your clit, biting his lips as he did so, something he did while he played his drums or when he was concentrated. It turned you on so much. That I’m this moment, you were his instrument. “Please! Please, please! Oh fuck yes!” You moaned as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

You clenched around him, making both your you groan out before you let your release cost his cock. Your husband picked you up, his cock still inside you, and walked out of the tub and laid you on the bed. You shivered and your nipples pebbled due to the sudden coldness of being removed from the warm bubble bath. You bodies still had bubbles on them, but Bucky clearly didn’t care as he pulled out of you and told you to put your ass in the air.

You felt his large cock push back into your tight hole once again and you fisted the sheets as he began to fuck you hard from behind. Tears weld in your eyes as he continued to hit your special spot, giving York ass a rough grab and smack. Bucky pulled you up by your hair as he continued to pound into from behind.

“One day, I’m gonna fill you full of my cum. Ima make you a mommy. You’d like that, wouldn’t you doll? You’d look so sexy with a round tummy, swollen tits with milk leaking from them. I can just taste it.” He moaned the words out as he felt himself getting closer and closer to his climax, while you’re now experiencing your second.

“Bucky, baby, I’m gonna cum!” You cried out.

“Go ahead, sweetheart, cum for me.” He grunted and you clenched around him again, the coil snapping and taking you to heaven for just a few seconds.

Bucky pulled out of you and finished on your back before signing heavily, catching his breath.

#rockstar!bucky x reader #rockstar!bucky #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes smut #rockstar gf #Tommy Lee #Sebastian Stan Tommy Lee #Sebastian Stan Tommy Lee x reader #Motley Crue #rock band #hot #bucky barnes au #he’s so sexy I want him bad

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robinsnest2111 · 3 months

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long time no In Darkness Shall You Be Reborn fanart 🏴‍☠️ @arnold-layne

this sketch is inspired by Vince and Nikki's first meeting <3

#robin's art adventures #in darkness shall you be reborn #arnold layne #pirate au #mötley crüe #motley crue #vince neil #nikki sixx #will my fanart for this fic ever be anything other than messy and rushed? probably not lol #love how their faces turned out tho <333

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starry-eyed-extraterrestrial · 1 month

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I have nothing to post so like, let's think about Mötley crüe YouTuber AU.

Tommy does dumb challenge video's that get an insane amount of views, but like not on his channel personally, people will re-upload the snippets in his videos where he gets hurt and put them in fail compilations that get millions of hits while his sub count sits at like 20k. Most people watch him cause he's hot and dumb hot guys getting hurt is the best entertainment available to humanity. He also plugs his only fans on the main.

Nikki either does these like pretentious art house short films that are like an hour long and in Italian that nobody understands or he films himself with his crapped phone camera at two am eating tidepods on his unmade bed. There is no in between.

Vince is a YouTuber who sits at like 19k and is honestly just there to look hot while talking about cars. He has a whole channel where he reviews all kinds of cars that he borrows (read: breaks into) and takes them out for a spin. He desperately wants to get sponsored by Ferrari or something but due to his unforseen (and obvious) crimal record they never do. He also plugs his only fans on the main.

Mick posts like twice a year and still somehow has pretty much the same amount of subscribers as the rest. He reviews music and albums and always has something insightful to say about music in general. He also does not show his face on YouTube, he wears a mask for when he's on camera and has an avatar for when he's not. He also sometimes streams on Twitch and then he just plays cod and just kinda fucks around.

Idk how they would meet and start making videos together though, like I said my brain in mush rn.

#Mick mars #nikki sixx #mötley crüe #tommy lee #motley crue #vince neil #this is pure garbage #I'm so tired #youtuber au

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anaalnathrakhs · 7 days

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We've had Motley Crue a/b/o classifications analysis, yes, but what about Motley Crue PACK DYNAMICS

Thank you @starry-eyed-extraterrestrial for the idea, everybody go check out the companion post

Omega Vince, three alphas: A beloved classic. His status drive possessiveness and protectivity from his bandmates. All other alphas are assholes, but then how can you blame the poor guys to be titillated by an omega living in such close quartes with them. Moral conflict central for the alphas. Is Vince one of us, or the Other?

Omega Tommy, three alphas: He's pretty open with cool people (the whole neighborhood has heard his tales of prowess, and probably the soundtrack that comes with it too). Mick is secretely a little scared of him. Vince and Nikki constantly compete to be his best friend as some kind of social proof they pull so much they can be stoic with an omega friend. Tommy just wants everyone to get along, attempts to annoy them into compliance.

Omega Mick, three alphas: The best kept secret in the whole contiguous US of A. You would NEVER guess. A master of playing it off like it's completely not him smelling like a field of flowers in bloom. The Boys tm regularly have a couch smoke sesh where they try to solve the mystery. They'd have a pinboard if they could afford it. They've never seen him doing more than standing next to an alpha (suspiciously). They know about his child support payements. They're aaaaaaaalmost sure but not quite. Gives them a lot of awkward, inexplicable boners, that they will never admit in front of each other. They'll take his secret to the grave.

Omega Nikki, three alphas: He just wants to play the goddamn bass and make a killer show, but for some reason everybody turns into a brat tamer when they speak to him. They hate to see a girl winning I guess. The other three feel legitimate to try and reel him in, to which he says fuck you and writes even more tortured poetry about. Vince doesn't like him very much, but Tommy is generally more well-meaning just a little... bone-headed about it. Mick doesn't want ANY of this bullshit to be his business and is Very Tired, but feels the fully superfluous and sadly unconstructive responsability to try and bring some fatherly authority to it. He fails to have any authority whatsoever.

All betas: Diversity wins! These assholes don't even have the excuse of biological urges! Absolute overcompensation junction. Few have made it out alive of the motley crue appartment (covered in bite marks). The younger three feel the imperious need to play up the wild, debauched imagery, and they will scramble for any opportunity. They'll sabotage each other's hookups to steal the girl. They'll get into weird pissing contests for the title of most alpha-like out of them. Of course it never crosses their minds they could've been omegas, and that's the worst insult they regularly throw each other. Mick has vowed to only fuck betas after the trouble he got up to in his youth, and it's starting to make him a little homo-threatening in the other three's eyes.

All omegas: The band straight up wouldn't exist or be on the brink of explosion because Tommy and Vince are slutting it up, living their best lives out there while Nikki is constantly fuming that these jezabels play into the reputation of omegas as minxes, sex-objects, etc. He pretends very hard to be an alpha. Under duress, he will first admit to being a lying beta. Tommy tried to play therapist once and it ended with punches thrown. Mick says absolutely nothing and they'd start wondering if he even fucking knows about the as and os and bs. Until he goes into heat, then he disappears from the surface of the earth and everyone exchanges knowing looks. One day he drops like it's nothing that he's mated with a woman from back when he was in his twenties, they have kids, a claiming bite, etc etc, Vince makes faces, and Nikki goes apoplectic on the spot. Tommy remains the sole fully mentally healthy member of the band.

All alphas: Total pig pen. They fishbowl a room with nasty unwashed alpha scent like no one else. Strangely functional among them, although competitive, but a thousand times worse for everybody else. Despite their differences, being alphas brings them together and motley crue ends up being a four-headed hydra that doesn't hesitate to share their food, so to speak. Leaving a trail of bite-claimed omegas and incredibly weird anecdotes in their wake. The younger three are a little enthralled by Mick's cool stoic experience, and they absolutely will cheer on him anytime he does something alpha-like. They're all very flippant, switching between cooperative team-players and competitive girlfriend-stealers to the tune of their hormones. They always make up in the end though. There's like, one consecutive week a year that none of them is in a rut, and the whole of L.A. breathes a sigh of relief.

Alpha Mick, three omegas: Nikki and Vince are pissed at him for existing, and they'll make sure he pays for it every day. Tommy thinks Mick is soooooo cool and tries to copy that sort of poise he sees in him. He ends up coming off as a weirdly crass pick-me, but that's okay with him, because Mick begrudgingly gives him approbation in the hopes that he'll stop. That will not happen. He doesn't give a shit about telling off the little bitches that plot against him, though. It works for a little while, but it only pisses them off more ultimately. The only thing that can bring Vince and Nikki together is asserting their places in the band facing Mick. They fuck one day. Nobody talks about it, ever.

Alpha Tommy, Omega Nikki, beta & beta: Better known as plaintiff, defendant, and the puzzled jury. Everyone thinks there SHOULD be something happening between those two, like, logically, and they reject any sliver of insinuation like the plague. Vince and Mick take turns guilting each other into being arbitrer of their routine fighting to prove to the world (and especially especially each other) that there will never be anything between them. Tommy might secretly be down for it. One day, Nikki decides to take the high road and completely stop engaging with the topic. It leads to a lot of awkward silence, Mick disappearing to his own devices, and Vince doing a whole lot of unpaid therapy (very bad quality) if he wants to keep a band that actually makes music. He gives up eventually, goes back to his own conquests, and now that nobody's looking the terror twins can get their shit together in peace. They make a pact to stop being weird. Everybody is greatly pleased that this bullshit has come to an end. Rinse and repeat every five to ten years.

Alpha Nikki & Mick, omega Tommy & Vince: The band is in a constant start of trench warfare. Tommy and Vince had known each other a little before the band, and they've instantly stuck together as soon as Vince joined, to oppose a block to Nikki's control freak tendencies. All must act like him, and if they're omegas they better keep it in their pants. Mick claims absolutely no horses in this race, but that'd sure be nice if these two annoying kids could behave. No decision can be made without a hour-long argumentative debate (screaming). They will take any opportunity to fight, including things they already agree on. Tommy gets a mate a couple years into the band's run, and it's the darling topic of trashy press for a while. The only time Vince sided with Nikki and Mick without thought.

Alpha Vince, three betas: The carrot dangling at the end of the stick. Sex sells, and betas aren't the most prized on the menu here. Vince wasn't picked only for his singing, and nobody makes a secret of it, though that's perfectly fine with him. He revels in the role he has for the band, until it comes to the creative process, the important decisions, where Nikki seems to forget who's supposed to be in charge here. He might've not been here from the start, but he's the frontman, the main draw, and he doesn't take well being relegated to a yes man. Tommy and Mick had to intervene before they got violent for real many times. Legal actions are ongoing over the ownership of certain songs.

feel free to add onto this if you have different takes, or other interesting dynamics, because im deadly curious

#this is not very shippy strangely #and probably rated M #very far from exploring all the possible combinations. just some that seemed interesting.#motley crue #motleyposting on main #headcanons #i write things sometimes #omegaverse au #poly!crue

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nikkisix · 6 hours

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💖𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒐𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝑫𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑺𝒐, 𝑭𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖!💖

Nikki Sixx as a Pony.

Passive aggressive artwork

#motley crue #nikki sixx #motley crue fanart #passive aggressive #mlp au

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cinmngirlnfr · 14 days

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Masterlist

Characters:

Edmund Pevensie

Billy Hargrove

Draco Malfoy

Harry Potter

Dr. House

Dr. Remy Hadley

Dr. Lisa Cuddy

Dr. Lawrence Kutner

Benedict Bridgerton

Finnick Oddair

Reese Wilkerson

Karen Sirko

Young Coriolanus Snow

Lucy Gray

Carl Gallagher

Celebrities:

Nikki Sixx

Colby Brock

Roger Taylor

Izzy Stradlin

Jimmy Page

Billie Joe Amstrong

Suki Waterhouse

Emilia Mernes

Stevie Nicks

Sabrina Carpenter

Ships:

Everlarck (Peeta x Katniss)

Lucy Gray x Snow

Finnick x Annie

Hinny (Harry x Ginny)

Polin (Penelope x Colin)

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crueclown22 · 2 months

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Home Sweet Home

TW: decay, violence, slightly nsfw at the end? piss ig

a/n: first fic im ever posting! took quite a bit, stupidly long on one chapter (curse you perfectionism) but I’m slightly happy with it? also listened to the devil wears prada’s zombie album quite a bit while writing, so thank them for the violence. gotta get a bit better at writing it!

Nikki clenches his jaw, frustration flowing through every fiber of his being. He shoves his bass into its battered case, the zipper protesting as it strains against the frayed fabric. The night had been a goddamn disaster. The band stumbled over basic chords, the sound of only wrong notes blasting through the amps. And those damn bar fights.. to add insult to injury, the men fighting chose that this specific night, they would try and murder each other. Well, not exactly; however, one did have to get escorted to a hospital.The fight scattered what little audience they had left, the others leaving earlier in the set after hearing their barely mediocre band.

Nikki's only thought now? Screw it all. He just wanted to grab a beer, crawl into bed, and forget this train wreck of a gig ever happened.

“What the fuck is your problem?” A voice cuts in, interrupting Nikki’s racing thoughts. He couldn’t recognize the voice, the stress of the night making it hard for him to focus on anything.

“What’s my problem?” Nikki spits repeats, turning around to face the voice. He locks eyes with Henri, his bandmate. Henri seemed to have also sprinted offstage the moment they wrapped up their set—his trembling hands still clutching drumsticks, ripped open callous’s oozing maroon blood onto once-white bandages. The blood drips, staining the soft wood of the drumstick. He knew that Henri would bitch about it tomorrow, but he didn’t seem to care. His eyes just bore into him, expecting a quick answer.

When he doesn’t get it quick enough for his liking, Henri stepped closer, his nostrils flaring. “Are you genuinely that dense, or do I need to spell it out for you?”

“Fuck you.” Nikki spits out, his fingers moving to fumble with the adjuster on his guitar strap. The cheap plastic gives way, leaving jagged edges under his nails. He promises himself to use the gig money to buy a better case—no more chipped corners.

“You bolted!” Henri’s voice cracks, drumsticks being abandoned on the floor as he throws them down.

“Because you guys butchered the entire set!” Nikki fires back, dropping the case. It lands with a satisfying thud, making Henri wince. “Half the time, I didn’t even recognize the song!”

Henri’s shoulders tense at the words, his fingernails sinking deeper into his drumsticks.

“Why can’t you assholes seem to admit that the new dudes suck?” Nikki hisses, watching a bit of dried blood crumble from his fingers.

“Dude, you haven’t even given them a chance!” Henri yell back, throwing his hands up.

“Because every time I hear them play, it’s, ‘Oh, shit, I messed up,’ or ‘Can we start over?’” Nikki explains with clenched teeth, the words coming out in thinly veiled anger.

“Maybe if they did something that was worth paying attention to, I would.” Nikki spits out, snatching his case from the ground.

As he glances at the case, he realizes it's probably scuffed from the fall. The damn case, made of cheap fabric, does more harm than good. It's like wrapping an instrument in sandpaper. He turns around, ready to leave— to escape this dingy bar that reeks of cigarette smoke. The stench would cling to his clothes, he knew it. He shudders, imagining the next day or two, hunched over the sink, trying to scrub away the lingering smell..

A brutal blow to the back of his skull snapped him back to reality, the coldness of the floor pressed against his cheek. He felt the weight of another body—Henri—clambering onto his back. The world seemed to tilt, and Nikki's legs turned to lead as a punch numbed his spine. Panic spiked; he twisted, but Henri's grip was unnaturally tight.

Out of desperation, Nikki swings his arm back, trying to hit anything he could. Nikki's elbow finally found a tender spot on Henri's knee—a bruise from a past gig. Pain loosens Henri's hold, and Nikki takes the chance. He swung his elbow back, connecting with Henri's rib. The gap widened, and Nikki twists, Henri sliding off him, collapsing to the floor.

A mix of adrenaline and anger fills Nikki's veins. He wanted to turn, to unleash hell upon the bastard, but the searing pain from the first hit pulsed through his skull, drowning any irrational thought he might have had. Nikki had always fought, enjoyed it even. But while he’d loved to turn back, beat Henri’s ass, the tender spot on his head would just give Henri an upper hand, the fight only leading to a head injury. He really didn’t have the money for that..

He somehow finds strength to drag himself over to the metal door out of the bar, his knees threatening to buckle under him. Despite the ringing in his ears becoming louder, Nikki could hear footsteps behind him. They sounded distant, but he knew Henri was right there, evident from the pull on the back of his shirt.

The metal door swung open, and cool night air rushed over Nikki. If a horrible smell didn’t make him recoil, one that smelled like an actively decaying body, the cool air would have felt nice.

Henri pulls him back, and he could feel his fingers rip into the thin fabric of his shirt. He swings back, his elbow meeting Henri’s jaw. The hit knocked his bandmate back, Henri stumbling into a wall. It was obvious that it had hurt by the way Henri’s knees buckled under him. He still managed to lunge at him and Nikki dodged it. It’d caused him to skid into the rough pavement, the sound making Nikki wince. He takes a few deep breaths, trying to get the air back into his lungs. It doesn’t help, however, the revolting scent making him gag slightly as it seems to get stronger by the minute.

“What the fuck is wrong with-“ Nikki manages to hiss, finally finding his voice. It’d felt like it’d been knocked out of him when he’d gotten knocked to the ground.

His heart drops just before Henri lets out a bloodcurdling scream, the sound making Nikki jump back. He turns, seeing..something.

It didn’t look human. It couldn’t have been. As suddenly as it came into the scene, it starts to dig its inhumanly long fingers into Henri’s stomach. The skin of Henri’s stomach ripped apart under the fingers like paper, blood rushing out of the opened wound. He didn’t get a good look of the creature before it dived its head down, starting to bring the chunks of flesh torn off into its mouth.

It wasn’t the sight that made Nikki finally choose to run; it was the screams of pure agony from Henri as this…this creature tore him apart.

Nikki's heart raced, threatening to burst out of his chest. The sirens in the distance wailed like banshees, urging him to flee. His now clammy hands clutched the heavy case, wanting to just drop it, to leave it. He’d worked too hard to get the damn bass; what felt like eternity of working in shit hole jobs to gather the money wasn’t about to be a waste of time.

The brisk air stung his eyes, blurring the world as he sprinted, legs pumping, away from the danger. The pavement blurred beneath his sneakers, and he wondered if he'd ever catch his breath. Was it just panic or reality that made the sirens seem louder, more urgent?

Finally, Nikki stopped, his chest heaving as he tried to get his breathing steady. The cold air only shocked his lungs. He rubbed his eyes, desperate to erase the burn. The world swam back into focus, and he sees the decaying creatures in the distance. Their hollow eyes weren’t fixed on him, but hunger was etched into their rotting faces. It clicked: hide. It wouldn’t be long until they would turn their attention on him.

Just then, a jarring beep pierced the air. A cop car sped past, narrowly missing Nikki. His heart leaped into his throat. He dove back onto the sidewalk, snapping his head around to try and find something that would suffice as a safe spot, even if his time in it would be short.

His gaze landed on a nearby park, and he sprinted toward it. He looks around, sighing in relief as he sees the small brick building of a public bathroom. While normally he wouldn’t touch the shit with a ten foot pole, the bathroom stood like a sanctuary in the moment—a flimsy refuge. Nikki dropped his case once he gets to the entrance, yanking out his bass and holding it upside down by the neck. Not the most dignified weapon, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

With a swift kick, he forced open the bathroom door. His breath hitched as he scanned the dim interior. Nothing. Relief washed over him, and he released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Stepping inside, he jerked his body to check behind the door—clear. He moved further, glancing into each stall—still clear.

Nikki spun, the door slamming shut behind him. He pressed his back against the cool tiles, eyes squeezed shut. His body relaxed for a moment before noticing something; almost like a cruel joke, nature called.

His bladder, a fucking traitor, demanded attention. The bathroom was his almost safe room— ironic, really. He rested the bass against the wall, its strings making a soft deep tone as he accidentally runs his finger over them. Nikki's fingers fumbled with his belt, frustration mounting. Why now?

Finally, the belt clicked open, and his pants slid down. He breathes out in relief as he feels his bladder finally empty.

As he’s distracted with the relief, in the dimness, he missed the garbled groan from the room's shadowed corner. Unseen, unheard, it shuffled closer, nails scraping the concrete floor. He didn’t even seem to hear the click of the bathroom door, light footsteps coming in.

A grip, cold and desperate, suddenly clamped onto his leg. Nails dug into his flesh, threatening to pierce the fragile skin.

Fuck.

#wah first chapter out!!#nikki sixx #london the band #zombie au #motley crue #home sweet home

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awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands · 6 months

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Halloween Headcanons 2023: Vampire Lost Boys! Vince Neil Headcanons

A/N: This is a vampire Au but specifically in the Lost Boys universe. It won't mirror the movie's story but instead its dynamics, with the only exeption of Max who is a character from the movie.

-He has Mexican origins but he’s a Santa Carla native and has been living there his whole life.

- Vince’s a playboy and his only goal in life is to become a famous singer. His parents don’t really pay that much attention to him so he moves out of his home at 18.

- He ends up couchsurfing, mostly using his girlfriend to buy clothes and party drugs. His surfer look and his charm make him quite known in Santa Carla, giving him again some unwanted attention.

- One day he meets a random woman after a house party and she takes him to her apartment. Once they finish round one, she starts to nibble Vince’s neck with passion, showing off her vampire teeth.

- “You have such a pretty neck. Do you want to know what it feels like to die and be reborn?” Vince ponders for a moment before giving himself up to the woman.

- He doesn’t regret his choice even if he definitely goes through the five stage of grief: denying that it happened and thinking it was just a trip; getting angry at himself for making such a stupid decision;bargaining that maybe if he finds a job or pretend to ignore the hunger it will disappear; depression when the symptoms get too bad and finally acceptance by finally killing his victim.

- After various failed bands and attempts to work, he meets Tommy at a party and he gets introduced to Nikki and Mick. After some time, he decided to join them and Motley Crue was born, the first whole vampire band ( or so they say).

- The vampire ability he is the most skilled in is stamina. He can perform a three hour concert without missing a beat or breaking a sweat, which is perfect for his favorite hobby which is sex.

- His vampirism has a huge impact on his sex drive and charisma too: he makes love like a violent animal and never seems to get satisfied and rarely women can resist his advances ( especially when he uses hypnosis).

#80srock #80s rock band #vince neil #motley crue #moodboard #vampire #vampire au #the lost boys #lost boys!au #halloween #halloween challenge #my fanfiction #my moodboards #my headcanons

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vincess-princess · 3 months

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as we were falling

ch. 10

a/n: im still in my writer's block but sometimes i muster enough energy to get some words out of me. updating this fic because it has the shortest chapters and those are easier to write word count: 1826 warnings: some manhandling but nothing serious

The morning of the auction day Tommy’s knees shook so bad he could hardly get out of bed and had to lean on Nikki to get to the canteen. Nutrient paste slid heavily into his stomach and lodged there, hard as a rock.

“Hey, you’ve gotta relax a bit,” Nikki told him, though he himself didn’t sport his usual carelessness. “This most likely ain’t gonna be your last auction. If you get a shitty master, just annoy him enough to sell you off to someone better.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Tommy said.

“How do you know? Maybe it does,” Nikki argued, but not too confidently; he also barely touched his nutrient paste. Tommy wanted to tell Nikki he didn’t need to act nonchalant in front of him, but it would just drive Nikki deeper into his pretense, so he said nothing.

Other slaves didn’t look very happy either. Heavy silence hung in the barracks. Nikki, too, sat on his mattress hugging his knees, his face empty. Tommy didn’t dare to disturb him.

Waiting without knowing how much time was left was so hard that Tommy almost felt relief when the guard arrived.

“Auction is coming. Get in line.”

They descended onto the first floor and went down a corridor different from the one they arrived through. That was the back door, Tommy figured; the front door was reserved for the customers, of course.

The auction sections were separated by age and gender: children, women 15-30, men 15-30, women 30-60, men 30-60, other. Who could they be putting in the small “other” room Tommy had no idea. People over 60? But who would need such old slaves? Maybe only if they had some valuable skill or knowledge…

Tommy preferred not even to think of the “children” section – it made his guts turn.

He and Nikki were predictably ushered into the “men 15-30” section. It was a hall so huge Tommy could barely see the farthest wall; the floor was marble, elegant columns supported the ceiling with an enormous elaborate chandelier, though there was no need for it now: tall windows from floor to ceiling let in a lot of light. The room was so grandiose it took Tommy’s breath away; the closest thing to it he’d ever seen were palace ballrooms in historic dramas. Soft music flowed from somewhere from the ceiling.

And stands. A lot of stands, a whole labyrinth of them; slaves were to stand in special circles on the floor, and next to every circle was a display. It probably showed the slave’s characteristics and price. Each stand had ten circles and a chair – probably for a guard.

The guards were so few, Tommy thought wistfully, and the slaves were so plenty they could overwhelm them easily even with their bats and shockers. Break out the doors, run out on the street… and then what? There were police out there, with cars, guns, drones, military droids. The slaves would all be hunted and put down like rabid animals. No, that wouldn’t work.

By nature of their consecutive numbers Tommy and Nikki got to stand next to each other, which lifted Tommy’s spirits a bit: at least they could exchange scorning glances about guards and customers and talk to each other when no one was looking. They couldn’t do it openly – it was prohibited to talk unless a buyer asks you something. They were also forbidden to leave their spots or sit down.

Upon taking their places the slaves had to scan their microchips to have their information displayed. For others it were only the results of the medical and skills exams and the price, but Nikki and Tommy had an additional line.

Exhibits defiant behavior, it read. Tommy’s stomach dropped. Until the last minute he hoped to hide the stripe on his wrist until after his purchase. Now no normal customer would buy him.

He looked at Nikki, seeking consolation, but he was also staring at his own display gloomily, rubbing the stripes on his wrist with his thumb.

A little later salespeople went along the stands, checking slaves’ presentability. One of them approached Tommy, grabbed his jaw and turned his head to the side, looking him over critically. Tommy barely held back the urge to slap his hand off his face. That would sure earn him a zap of a shocker.

The salesman reached for Tommy’s hair and pulled down his hair tie unceremoniously. Tommy winced: getting his hair yanked like that hurt. His hair fell down onto his shoulders, messy and knotted: it’s been a while since he brushed it.

The salesman was prepared – he pulled out a small hairbrush. A couple minutes and several brushed out knots later it was done. Tommy’s scalp was burning, but now his hair rested prettily on his shoulders. The salesman looked pleased.

He then proceeded to Nikki, and, of course, it went nearly not as smooth.

“Hands off,” Nikki hissed when the salesman reached for his hair. Then he grabbed the hairbrush and wrestled it from the stunned man. “I can do it myself.”

He didn’t get to: the guard nearby tased him, forcing him onto his knees. The salesman looked down at him in disgust.

“There’s always the one that acts out,” he complained to the guard.

“Well,” the guard grinned, “we’re always prepared.” He waived his taser in front of the salesman’s face. “That one’s got tased so many times already his insides should be grilled at this point.”

“Yes, I see.” The salesman pointed at Nikki’s wrist. “Well, soon we’ll get rid of him, hopefully. Get up, you filth,” he prodded Nikki with his foot. “I don’t have the entire day to waste on you here.”

“Get him up,” the guard ordered to Tommy. Tommy rushed to help his friend. Nikki could barely stand and leaned on Tommy so heavily his own legs almost gave up under him.

The salesman then forcefully brushed Nikki’s hair, ignoring his pained hissing, and left, gloating.

“You okay?” Tommy asked quietly.

“I’m gonna shove that brush up his ass,” Nikki croaked. “I’m gonna-“

“No talking!” The guard prodded Nikki in the back with his bat. “Get back at your spot,” he told Tommy. Tommy had to release Nikki, who had to lean on the display instead, and return into his circle.

When Nikki got better and could no longer lean on the display, he demonstratively tucked his hair behind his ears. It didn’t change much, but he surely needed that small act of resistance.

The auction started soon after. The corridors slowly filled with customers. Coreworlders seemed fixated on modifying their bodies, cosmetically or to enhance performance. Some had scanning lens or glasses; Tommy lost count of cybernetic arms and legs; a few even had radio installed in their heads and were unceremoniously listening to music or the news on them. Even their midworld planet had better manners, Tommy thought with disdain.

People walked past, their glances often lingering on Tommy. He preferred to look the other way, but could still feel them burn his skin. Nikki, in his fashion, countered those glances with intent stares, as if trying to win a staring contest. Not everyone liked that.

“Whatcha looking at, slave?” one man with robotic arms told Tommy. His hands had six fingers each. It was probably more convenient, but for some reason grossed Tommy out.

“You,” came a straightforward answer.

“And what’s that you find so interesting?”

“Your hands are fucked up,” Nikki said. While Tommy completely agreed, he wouldn’t have said it: the guard already rose from his chair with his taser bared.

“Have some fucking respect!” he growled and tased Nikki again – a little, Nikki even managed to keep standing, but the grimace on his face said it all.

“That’ll teach ‘im!” The customer grinned in delight. Then he, thankfully, proceeded further, not sparing them any more attention.

“The guard was right. My insides gotta be finely grilled at this point,” Nikki whispered hoarsely, pressing a hand to his chest.

“Third time is a charm,” Tommy smiled gloomily.

“Silence!” the guard yelled. The smile wilted on Tommy’s lips.

Some time passed, Tommy wasn’t sure how much. He could see the time on his display, but he avoided looking at it. Maybe if he doesn’t look there, a good customer also wouldn’t.

A middle-aged lady passed by merely sparing him a glance, then stopped dead in her tracks, turned around and approached their stand. She was maybe 45, more or less, rather plump, but she had nice dimples on her cheeks and kind eyes, and she was looking right at Tommy. His heart skipped a bit.

“Oh, what a pretty little thing you are,” she said, looking him over. She could barely reach his chin, but the tone of her voice immediately established her superior position. Not a dominant one, though. She wasn’t seeking to overpower him. “So skinny - did they not feed you here at all?”

“They did… ma’am.” The word kicked and scratched and punched his throat until the strict look of the guard made Tommy let it out. It left an unpleasant aftertaste on his tongue. But the lady looked pleased.

“He just didn’t eat,” Nikki intervened, but the guard clicked the taser warningly, making Nikki unwillingly fall silent.

“Why, though? Is the food bad?” The lady’s thin brows curved into half-ovals.

“Nutritionally – no. The taste, though…” Tommy trailed off. The lady got it.

“Oh, you’re a picky one!” She laughed. “Well, that’s not a problem for me. I love cooking. I own a small café, actually. And I need a young boy to help me out. How’s your cooking?”

Tommy hurried to put his 39% into a better light. “I’ve had some experience. But I’ve still got a lot to learn.”

“Let me see your other skills… Oh, you’re a drummer? You could play in bands if I ever decide to have live music! Lockpicking… hm… dancing, too… that’s an interesting skillset for sure…”

Then her eyes reached the last line, and her face darkened. No, no, no-

“Oh. I don’t have time to teach defiant kids manners. It won’t work out, I’m afraid.”

Tommy looked at her leaving in silent desperation. Nikki, despite the tangible threat of getting another zap, squeezed his forearm in support.

“She’d suffocate you under her weight anyway,” he murmured. Tommy cringed at the image in his mind. His grief subsided slightly.

People kept passing by. Though it had only been an hour from the start of the auction, Tommy began to worry. What happens to the slaves that don’t get sold on their first auction? Surely some are always left. Do they go on the next? Would the price be reduced? For some reason Tommy didn’t want to know.

He turned to Nikki, but he was staring intently into the crowd.

“What are you-“

“They’re staring at us.”

“Who?”

“They.” A nod slightly to the left, and then Tommy saw them.

#as we were falling #motley crue fanfiction #motley crue #motley crue fanfic #motley crue au #nikki sixx #tommy lee #my writing #all thank robinsnest2111 for sending me the nicest message that gave me strength to finish this chap <3 #love u bestie

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krakenera · 1 year

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im so validated by con saying izzy listens to diva west coast rock. sooo fucking true baby

#izzy hands #rambles #the rockstar au i swear im writing is fueled even more #he eould like the motley crue #like he fuckin would huh #ndnfajabn

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namelessbutters-doodles · 9 months

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Stripper au?

Stripper au and mafia au ;3

where three Leaders purchase the same establishment and try to run it together while making sure the strippers don’t kill each other or somethin

plus trying to gain there trust to help them as they heal from previous owners who had taken advantage of em in the past.

Also trying to figure out where the missing Mysterious Vinnie went.

#the leaders are tommy gene and nikki #nikki's only here because he was bored #kiss #kiss band #butters speaking #au #motley crue #nikki sixx #gene simmons #tommy thayer #the demon

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marvelobsessed134 · 10 months

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hii, how are you? can i request nikki sixx x fem reader as highschool lovers? like, him being completely and madly in love with her? have a good day:))

I’m only me when I’m with you

I thought this song fit perfectly with the high school vibes.

Requested: By anon

Pairings: Nikki Sixx x Reader

A/n: Heavy AU. This is not accurate to Nikki’s actual high school experience.

Warnings: Just a little bit of making out

Summary: You and Nikki are 17 and madly in love.

To say you and Nikki Sixx were in love is an understatement. No, you two are madly in love. You really only spend time with each other, despite having other people to hang with.

You’re known as the couple whose always together at school, and outside of school as well. And you being the prettiest girl in school and him being one of the most handsome boys in school, people always cast envious glances your way. But you don’t care, because you have each other.

Nikki changed his name to Nikki Sixx not too long after he turned 18, said it was more rockstar like and would separate him from his abusive mother. Which makes total sense and honestly, you like the name Nikki a lot better. It suits him so well. He’s also grown out his hair and dyed it black, which makes him go from just cute and attractive to hot. The two of you have been friends since middle school and got together sophomore year of high school.

You opened your locker to get your books out for your next class when it was slammed shut. You jumped but looked to see your boyfriend leaning against the locker next to yours. You blushed and laughed, “Nikki!” You playfully squealed, “I need to get my books.”

The bassist leaned in to kiss you, and you of course kissed him back. Once the two of you pulled away, he said, “You won’t need them because we’re not going to class.”

“But baby! I skipped yesterday and the day before, my moms gonna kill me if she finds out.” You chuckled.

Nikki brushed a strand of hair behind your ear and caressed your cheek, gripping your chin to meet his eyes.

“Come on, just one more time?” And how could you say no to that face.

You sighed, your shoulders sagging in defeat, “Okay, one last time.”

~Time Skip~

You giggled as he pushed you against the wall of the empty locker room. This one was unused, so there’s no way you two could get caught.

He kissed you passionately on the lips and you moaned into his mouth as he kissed you back. Fisting and pulling at each others clothes, you cheeks became flushed and your knees were giving out. Noticing this, Nikki picked you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist. He pushed you back further against the wall, kissing your jaw and neck. It was getting heated, however the two of you would never have sex in school, that was a no-go. Your mom would kill you if she found out her precious daughter was having sex with a rockstar at school. She didn’t know your relationship existed, and you’d like to keep it that way. All she knows is the two of you are friends. And she trusts you enough not to do anything more with him.

Oops…

The two of you pulled away, breathless, staring into each others lust blown eyes. Your boyfriend placed you back down. And just in time, the bell rang. “Saved by the bell, sweetheart.” He smirked and you laughed fixing the buttons on your shirt and smoothing out your skirt. You also fixed your lipstick real quick before letting Nikki walk you out of the locker room. You walked through the empty halls until you made your way to your classroom. You kissed him goodbye before walking in class with a stupid smile on your face.

#motley crue #nikki sixx #motley crue x reader #cute #fluff #heated #suggestive #nikki sixx x reader #vince neil #mick mars #tommy lee #anon request #rock n roll #70s #80s #glam rock #high school au #au #au fic

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