#king fluffikins

[dangerous-advantage]

Imagine:

Andrew, who is quite the heavyweight, drinks enough that he’s officially out of it. He remembers nothing from that night, although he did send Neil one image over snap chat. It is, of course, a picture of one of the cats loafing. His caption is: “Where the ffuck is its leg”

[luci-cunt]

Neil Josten’s Vendetta

Neil needs a roommate, he gets Andrew. Which is fine, until Andrew is the first person to connect all of Neil’s victims and actually start figuring out who is killing all of the Butcher of Baltimore’s people.

“Umm, that’s pretty much it,” he said, forcing his eyes to land back on Minyard, who was still examining the apartment. He paused for a moment on the dead cactus, and then glanced questioningly at Neil, who smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’m not much of a– well I’m not very good at keeping things alive,” he said, then smiled a little wider at his own joke. Sustaining life was definitely a lot harder than watching it drain from someone’s eyes.

(Pt. 1/ ????)

(AN: this is my crappy attempt at fanfic so lol sorry if there’s spelling issues and if it randomly switches to first person, I tried to fix it but I’m more used to writing first person so I slip. Also thanks to @sig66​ cause I’m 100% stealing what you added on to my OG idea– unless you want to write it yourself then I’ll back off, but it’s a rad ass idea. Also thank you to @writingpuddle because you’re an icon and really nice so thanks for liking my au idea hope you like this lol)

*******

Neil scowled at the newspaper on his kitchen table. Well, more specifically the ad he knew was folded inside the pages. Written in typed, neat, black and white ink just like all the other rows of ads for dog sales and car sales and sales in general.

He’d been the one to publish the ad, which made it that much worse. Everything about his life until this point– hell even at this point–  was about skimming just below the radar. Staying out of everyone’s attention or as far in the periphery as he could manage. First it was staying carefully out of his father’s range and notice, then it was running from the eyes of his father’s people with his mother hand yanking at his hair and her hissing voice close in his ear reminding him that they’re close. You’re stalling us. Stop speaking now. We need to move. Forget that name. Remember this one. And now it was keeping ahead of the cops and making sure no one connected the trail of bodies he was leaving scattered over the country.

Neil ran a hand through his hair, trying to sooth the phantom pains and ghosts of fingers that thinking of his mother brought up. He sighed and looked away from the paper finally, trying to console himself with the fact that the ad had already been publish, it wasn’t under his actual name (he’d used his middle and last initials. A.J.), and his mother was dead. Dead and burned.

That was another memory he wasn’t feeling like reliving, so instead he took a sip of the scalding coffee he’d been making. It burned his tongue but shot him back into the present, out of the smoke and sand of that beach beneath the stars.

He tossed the paper in the trash as he went to grab cream from the kitchen. He knew what the ad said, had it burned into his brain as he’d read and re-read it trying to decide whether or not it was the right decision.

Roommate wanted, must be quiet and able to clean up after themselves. Email me with inquiries.

Part of him knew it was vague and a horrible ad, but part of him hoped no one would answer and he could convince himself that he’d tried.

People had answered though, three to be exact. The first two he’d written off, one asking if medium sized dogs were allowed– no– and the other wanting to know what kind of coffee he kept in the house. Neil hadn’t bothered responding to that one.

But the third one had been a single line.

Does the room have a door that locks.

Not even a question mark, or a name. The email said the person was an A. Minyard, and a quick google search hadn’t really gotten Neil much. Something about a car crash, some court cases Neil couldn’t be bothered to read, and a story about twins reuniting. The picture that had been taken for the article had actually made Neil laugh. Two boys– each with identical blond hair, roundish faces, and small statues– were scowling into the camera while a woman subtly fought to rest her hand on one of the boys shoulders. She looked a lot like them, except she was trying for a pained looking smile.

The exact same picture he realized was also used for her obituary. Just cropped to hide the twins.

But Neil didn’t really care, and he was running out of options so he’d responded with an equally thought-provoking yes. A. Minyard– who could have been either Aaron or Andrew if he was one of the twins Neil realized with some annoyance– had responded simply with a date and time and Neil had given him his address. (Even though his fingers froze when he tried to type it in and he couldn’t breathe right afterwards until he’d double and triple checked that all the doors and windows were locked and the cameras in place).

It had been a long time since Neil had been on the run. Actually, Neil Josten had never been on the run. Alex Crizewald, Chris Lucas, Stephan Waldridge, Nathaniel Wesninski and many more had been on the run. Neil Josten was a broke ex-college student working part time in a coffee shop down the street from his two bedroom apartment, he’d grown up in Virginia, and had a sister in Washington who he never talked to.

Neil Abram Josten was Neil Abram Josten. He’d stopped being anyone else the day his mother was killed.

Neil Abram Josten also had to get ready to meet A. Minyard, who was supposed to be coming over at 1:30. Neil almost groaned when he looked at his clock and it beamed 1:12 at him. He sipped at his coffee again, it tasted better now with cream, and it was less scalding, which was a relief for his already charred tongue.

Damn, and he’d wanted to get a shower.

He caught his own eye in the bathroom mirror as he decided to risk a quick shower anyways. He’d been at the gym down the street for the past couple of hours, trying desperately to run off the burn in the back of his head telling him to run. Leave everything, you’ve been found. They know where you are, they’re coming. Run.

His eyes used to scare him, there wasn’t much special about them, but paired with the Wesninski red curls it made him look like a smaller, more pointy version of the very Butcher he’d run from all those years ago. He’d dyed his hair back to auburn and removed his contacts mostly for dramatic effect, and luckily now they didn’t remind him so much of his father. Well, that’s not totally true, they just reminded him of his mission– Neil Josten’s vendetta if you will. Also the stupid reason he needed a roommate in the first place.

Turns out, hunting down and killing every person to have worked for your father (and your father) takes a lot out of your day.

He tore his eyes away from the mirror and pulled off his clothes, rinsing off fast and changing back into a loose pair of sweatpants and a hoodie just a loud knock pounded on the door. Neil tried not to scowl too much as he opened the door.

The first thing he noticed about A. Minyard was that he smelled like cigarettes and new car, which was an odd mix. Minyard was also shorter than Neil, which was slightly comforting– until Neil realized Minyard was nearly twice the size of him in muscle mass, that was not comforting. He was wearing all black, a pair of jeans, a dark t-shirt with a gray flannel around his waist and twin black armbands on both forearms.

Neil was kind of impressed, it was the end of what felt like one of the worst summers ever and this guy didn’t seem the slightest bit fazed. In fact he looked downright bored, with hooded hazel eyes and nothing other than a lazy eyebrow arch as Neil opened the door. He looked almost exactly like the photo from the newspaper article, and not much taller. The only real difference was his build and a slight shadow of stubble on his chin.

“A. Minyard?” Neil asked.

“Sunshine Muffin 7260?” Minyard asked in a deadpanned tone, Neil winced. He kept forgetting he’d let Matt make him the email after his coworker had found out he didn’t have one. He kept meaning to change it, but he only ever used it to talk to Matt, and sometimes his boss– Matt’s fiancé Dan– since he didn’t keep a phone for more than a week.

“Neil, actually,” Neil said, he didn’t bother to try for a handshake. From the cross-armed stance Minyard was holding Neil thought it wouldn’t be well received.

“Andrew,” he said simply, and Neil stepped aside to allow him to enter. He closed the door after Minyard– Andrew– walked in and then moved past him towards the kitchen.

“I have coffee?” he half asked, a little awkwardly. He wasn’t used to having guests in his apartment– still wasn’t exactly used to having an apartment–, but it was something Matt always said when he dragged Neil over for a movie night.

“I’m good,” Andrew said, glancing around the apartment as he followed Neil into the kitchen. It wasn’t very big, the front door leading into a small living room that turned into a kitchen on the left side. The living room had a couch set up facing the TV, and there was a dead cactus Dan had gotten him sitting in the windowsill above the sink, but otherwise the room was completely undecorated. There was also a door leading to a bathroom through the kitchen, and a tiny hallway to where the two bedrooms were. Both identical, small rooms with a single window and a half closet.

“Cool, uh, your room would be down he hall, mine’s on the right–” Neil pointed down the hall, he didn’t mention that the room on the right had the window over his downstairs neighbors shrub garden, and that he’d picked that room because it would make a halfway decent escape route if needed. “There’s only one bathroom, that’s it there, and then the kitchen and the living room…” he drifted off, glancing around the apartment and fidgeting with his sleeve a little. “Umm, that’s pretty much it,” he said, forcing his eyes to land back on Minyard, who was still examining the apartment. He paused for a moment on the dead cactus, and then glanced questioningly at Neil, who smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’m not much of a– well I’m not very good at keeping things alive,” he said, then smiled a little wider at his own joke. Sustaining life was definitely a lot harder than watching it drain from someone’s eyes.

“Huh, can I smoke in here or are you a prude?” Minyard asked bluntly, and Neil raised a brow and smirked at his blank expression.

“Not technically, but the smoke alarms in the rooms are shit if you open the window,” Neil said, and Minyard nodded. “You can take that as either the warning sign or invitation that it is,” Neil added, and Minyard eyed him carefully, somehow managing to peer at Neil down his nose despite being shorter.

“Can I see the room?” He asked instead of answering, and Neil nodded, gesturing down the hall. Minyard turned out of sight and Neil heard him try the handle of his own– thankfully locked– door.

“Mine’s on the right,” Neil reminded him, poking his head into the hallway and then raised a brow at Minyard, “You remember my email down to the number but can’t remember your lefts and rights?” he mocked, and Minyard scowled at him, before disappearing into the room. Neil breathed a small laugh and went into the kitchen where his laptop was set up. With nothing better to do while he waited for Minyard to decide he opened it up and winced at the number of emails Matt and Dan had both sent him. He regretted mentioning Minyard coming over now.

He closed the laptop instead of reading any of them and instead pulled out his phone. There was a new message, from an unknown number which wasn’t that unusual on Neil’s phone. He opened it and scanned the code. Well, it wasn’t much of a code, just written in French. It was from one of Neil’s newer contacts– one that apparently didn’t understand what Neil meant by confidential. There was GPS coordinates, and a date and time window for Neil to reach it by. Luckily it looked like he had a day, but his fingers itched to get the envelope he knew would be waiting at the site. Containing the names and information on his next victims.

Neil had been hunting down the Butcher’s men for the years. It had been surprisingly easy at first, hunting down the weakest members and picking them off. But the higher up he got the more difficult it was proving– and the longer surveillance took. Neil hated surveillance. If he had any trust left he probably would hire someone to do it for him. But this wasn’t something he could risk– or put in someone else's hands.

The killing had been something to get used to– no, the feeling of killing. Killing was easy, you just stab the right place and the blood drains and the person goes limp and usually piss themselves. It’s not all that.

But the exhilaration of adding another notch into his knife, of getting that much higher in the Wesninski ladder, it was frightening how much he’d started to understand that light in his fathers eyes. It helped a little to know everyone he was killing were monsters, working for a monster, but the first couple of kills had been messy as he dredged up the lessons from Lola and his father and tried to act them out.

A dark part of his mind wished he was able to draw things out longer, to make sure his victims knew who was killing them and why. But another part was glad he didn’t, and knew he never would be able to do more than quick kills from the shadows.

There was also the fact that killing slow meant mess, and unfortunately Neil Josten didn’t have Nathan Wesninski’s murder budget. What a shame.

“I need to move in as soon as possible,” Minyard said, snapping Neil out of his thoughts and making him jump. For being such a heavy looking person he was startlingly quiet. Neil ran a hand through his hair.

“That’s fine, I have work tomorrow but I get off by 11,” Neil said, and Minyard nodded.

“I’ll be here by 11:30,” he said curtly, and Neil laughed.

“Hopefully the enthusiasm isn’t from some trouble you might be dragging in, that would be impolite,” he said, a very thinly veiled threat that he punctuated with his father’s smile– no his smile. Minyard scowled at him.

“I don’t think anything could be more trouble than you seem to be,” Minyard said flatly, and Neil laughed again, barely biting back the words you have no idea.

“See you tomorrow roomie,” Neil grinned as Minyard gave him a last scathing look and then left.

*****

“Surprise!” A voice shouted from behind Neil, and he jumped, reaching for a weapon he didn’t have on him as he whirled around. He relaxed once he recognized Matt’s grinning face and rolled his eyes.

“Are you going to shout that everytime you show up for your scheduled work time?” Neil asked as he finished refilling the to-go cups in the front of the cafe. Matt laughed and patted his shoulder.

“Dan and I have a bet to see who can get you to cuss first,” Matt explained and Neil gave him a flat look.

“That’s the stupidest bet I’ve heard you guys make, and you were betting whether or not toe-jamb was one word or last week,” Neil said, finishing the cups and untying his apron, Matt laughed. He had a good laugh, like him it was large and unignorable and much too frequent. Matt seemed to know everyone, and he loved introducing Neil to people, which made Neil’s skin crawl. But Matt was also the closest thing to a friend Neil could say he ever had.

Well, there was Kevin and Riko, but Neil didn’t think the wonder-twins counted as friends more than childhood acquaintances.

Matt had actually been Neil’s first roommate– aside from his mother (Neil tried not to wince at how that sounded), and had gotten him the job at the horribly named “Biscottea.”

“And what did we learn from that?” Dan asked, suddenly appearing from the back room and making Matt beam. Neil sighed and recited Dan’s ‘lessons’ with a more than excited Matt.

“‘Don’t argue with Dan, and hyphens count as one word.’”

“Mmm, just like Boyd-Wilds,” Matt said, walking over to plant a kiss on Dan who smiled up at him.

“I do like the sound of that word,” Dan agreed, “Hey babe,” she added. Which made Matt’s smile widen– impossibly– as he wrapped his arms around Dan, she hugged him back and they rocked for a moment.

“Come here often?” Matt asked cheekily, and she rolled her eyes with faux annoyance. Neil tried his best to fade into the shadows, suddenly feeling like an intruder, and attempted to open the drawer where his time card was silently. It didn’t work– there was nothing less silent than that stupid drawer– and both Dan and Matt were focused back on him.

“You going to meet your new roomie?” Matt asked, and Neil nodded.

“Technically I already met him,” Neil muttered, but they both ignored him.

“Apparently he’s a grouch,” Dan said, crossing her arms over her chest as Neil handed his apron over to Matt, who furrowed his brow as he tied it on.

“What’s that mean?”

“He said like, four words the whole time, and called me a prude,” Neil explained, checking the clock to fill out the time on the card. Matt laughed.

“Is he wrong though?” he asked, and Dan chuckled when Neil glared over at both of them.

“Whatever, I’m going home,” he grumbled, before closing the drawer extra slowly so that it made a horrible screeching noise that caused most of the customers in the cafe to glare at him. Matt and Dan dramatically covered their ears and screamed.

“Noo! Not the drawer!” Matt cried, and Neil rolled his eyes and turned to leave.

“Bye Spinster!” Dan called after him as he slammed the door behind him. He shook his head out and didn’t bother wiping the smile off his face. He glanced at his watch, 11:03 that meant he still had time to look over the new envelope before Minyard showed up. He sighed as he realized that wasn’t something he was going to be able to do in his own apartment with the new roommate.

He jogged back to the apartment, and took a quick shower to wash off the smell of the cafe and his jog before plopping down on the couch with the plain manila envelope. He turned on the TV, which was tuned to some sports channel reviewing an exy game from last night.

Neil would never admit that he’d picked the station because it played mostly exy reviews. He’d told himself he wouldn’t even dip his toes in the risk of temptation by actually watching an exy game, but the review weren’t games. And, it wasn’t his fault they were on when he got home.

Pure, unadulterated coincidence.

Just like how the envelope was discarded so Neil could curl his knees up to his chest and get sucked into a slow motion replay of a play made by the captain of the Trojan’s team– Jeremy Knox.

Not that Neil knew that. That was a lie, the only thing Neil didn’t know about nearly every Class I exy team was the players numbers, because he needed some kind of deniability for his shabby example of self restraint.

At least he didn’t have the stalker binder of Kevin and Riko anymore, now it was disguised as a cookbook in the kitchen. Though he had kept tabs on them both, enough to know that Kevin had suffered a nasty injury that made it impossible for him to play exy anymore. Neil was pretty sure he’d decided to become a history major and coach the local exy teams. He and Dan actually coached one of the community ones together, and Neil had heard plenty about the arrogant son of exy and his “perfectionist” and “douchwad” tendencies from Dan.

Soon enough there was a pounding on the door that jerked Neil out of his exy hole. He glanced wistfully at the screen and switched it to a regular news station before getting up. He stuffed the envelope behind the fridge on his way to the door and checked the peep hole. Spotting the top of Minyard’s blond head he opened the door.

Minyard was dressed drastically different from yesterday. Neil raised a brow at the choice of light-washed jeans and a bright orange Palmetto State hoodie.

“Are you having an identity crisis?” he asked, frowning at the way Minyard glared at him with more emotion than he’d all of yesterday.

“Not Andrew,” he growled, and Neil nodded in realization.

“Oooh, you’re Aaron,” he said, and Aaron furrowed his brow.

“He mentioned me?” he asked, sounding surprised and Neil laughed.

“No,” he said, which made Aaron look more confused. “Did he pay you to move him in? Cause that would be hilarious.” that made Aaron bristle, but before he could say anything the sound of german drifted up from the stairs. Neil cocked his head as he listened to what sounded like a phone conversation.

“...no, I’m not telling you that. Does it sound like I care about your whiny needs?” The voice deadpanned. There was a pause and then the other Minyard appeared at the top of the stairs. He looked as bored as he had yesterday and was wearing all black again. This time though he had an Arctic Monkeys AM shirt and ripped jeans. Neil tried not to roll his eyes.

“It doesn’t matter if–” he sucked in a long, frustrated sounding breath as he was cut off. “No, you will not waste away without details,” he said, pausing for a moment to listen and then sighed. “Then die.” and he hung up. Neil stifled a laugh as Aaron and Andrew shared a look.

“How’s Nicky?” Aaron asked smugly in german, and Andrew rolled his eyes, tossing the phone at him as it rang.

“This is Aaron,” Andrew introduced curtly, and Neil smirked.

“He knows,” Aaron muttered in german, hanging up the phone without picking up he call, and Andrew gave Neil an odd look.

“Knows what, you know I hate vague statements.” he said, not taking his eyes off Neil.

“He knew who I was, I thought you told him but he said you didn’t,” Aaron explained, and Andrew’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. Neil tried to smile innocently, but he had a feeling it didn’t work.

“Google is a thing Aaron, stop being paranoid. Go get something from the car,” Andrew snapped a little too sharply to be truly convincing. Aaron seemed to realize this, because he cast a wary look between Andrew and Neil and then reluctantly left for the stairs.

“He’s off so soon?” Neil asked, and Andrew stared him down for a while longer.

“There’s stuff in the car,” he said finally, and Neil nodded.

“Cool, need help? How much do you have?” he asked, Andrew took another lengthy sigh before answering.

“There’s two cars,” Andrew said, before turning and leaving for the stairs again, Neil assumed that meant yes and followed him down. They passed Aaron on the way down, and Neil tensed at the thought of him being in the apartment without Neil there to supervise. Andrew noticed, and raised a brow.

“Worried he’ll steal your dead plant?” he asked dryly, Neil smiled mockingly.

“It’s name is Marshall,” Neil said, Dan had insisted on his naming it, but it had only proven to make him feel worse about telling her he’d killed it. He tried not to pause to much on the fact that he was more guilty over the death of Marshall then the twenty plus people he’d killed.

“Was,” Andrew corrected, before resuming the walk to the cars. Neil clenched his jaw and glared after him, before muttering a couple curses under his breath before following him.

Neil immediately spotted the cars. He didn’t claim to know a single thing about cars, except that the one that Andrew unlocked looked insanely expensive. Next to it there was a large, old looking blue truck stacked full of furniture. Neil almost choked, it seemed to reek permanence.

Not your stuff. Not your stuff. Not your stuff.

He tried to console himself as a girl jumped down out of the truck. She was wearing a flowy looking skirt that had a map of the world on it and a plain green shirt on. Her dirty-blonde hair was tied up in a high ponytail and she seemed to bounce over to Neil, grinning widely as she stuck out her hand.

“Hi I’m Katelyn,” she said, sounding as bubbly as she looked. Neil smiled weakly and shook her hand.

“Neil,” he said.

“Nice to meet you, by the way I love your hair, is that a natural color or do you dye it?” she asked, blue eyes bright and sincere.

“Natural,” Neil said on reflex, it was a little odd to realize he was telling the truth. Katelyn’s eyes widened and she reached out like she was going to touch it. Neil flinched slightly and she pulled back.

“Sorry, sorry, that’s my bad, I should have asked,” she said, casting a wary glance back to Andrew, who didn’t appear to have noticed the interaction and was busy pulling something out of the fancy car. Neil furrowed his brow, but before he could think too much about it Aaron suddenly appeared.

“Kate, can you give me a hand?” he asked, subtly dragging his girlfriend away from Neil. He was glad, her cheerfulness was exhausting.

“No problem,” she said, and they both started undoing the ties keeping all the furniture in place. Neil got another near overwhelming sense of panic, and he dragged a hand through his hair to try and calm himself down.

“Here,” Andrew said, suddenly shoving a box into Neil’s arms. Neil glared at him.

“Thanks,” he said sarcastically, before looking at the box and realizing it was an animal carrier. He frowned and peeked inside to see a fluffy looking black and white cat glaring at him.

“Hope you’re not allergic to cats,” Andrew said with a small smirk,

“What the fuck is this?” Neil hissed, which made Andrew’s smirk grow.

“Therapy animal, her name’s King, you should introduce her to the apartment.” Andrew said, before running off to go ‘help’ Aaron unload the truck by standing over his shoulder and snapping at him to be more careful with the furniture. Neil glared between the cat and Andrew before growling and turning away.

“I’m throwing it down the stairs!” he called over his shoulder.

“I dare you,” Andrew replied, and Neil glared again.

“Fuck you.”

*******