multifandom oneshots/preferences

l. the summoning-- joey jordison (slipknot)

a/n: this is in honor of our favorite drummer <3

Yeah, yeah, Joey never knew you in his life. You're just another Slipknot and Murderdolls fan, just another speck in the crowds he used to perform in front of. 

But it still hurts that he's gone. No one else taught you how to embrace your individuality, engage your creativity, or just fucking enjoy life like Joey Jordison. There was a special sort of pain that came when he passed two years ago. The man who helped fuel your recovering self esteem and was so much to you from afar simply died. 

You trace the summoning circle on your living room floor, surrounding it with salt and ash and candles to ensure a clean summon. With every passing moment, you realize how crazy this seems. But you no longer had time to think when as you light the last candle, you feel a little gust of wind (and a hell of a lot of nausea) hit you and you keel over in discomfort. 

"Whoa, this is awesome! Did you summon me?" a very familiar voice asks. 

You push yourself up to look at a glowy, semi-transparent Joey Jordison standing up and wiping ghost dust and circle salt off his band shirt, black jacket, and black jeans. 

"Oh my god," your jaw is on the floor as you stand up. 

"I've never been summoned before! Cliff told me that getting summoned is really weird, and it does feel different," Joey runs a hand through his hair. 

"Cliff?" you raise an eyebrow. "Like, Cliff Burton?"

"Yeah! I hang out with him all the time," Joey nods. "Thank you for summoning me!"

"You're welcome," you smile. "I'm Y/n, I'm sorry if this is a bit creepy."

"Hey, no worries. I've missed living up here," Joey outstretches his hand for you to take. You shake his cold, transparent hand. 

"Whoa, I haven't felt a warm person in a while!" the man wraps his other hand around yours. "I mean, it's been at least ten years."

"It's actually been two years since you passed, like to the day. Do you have calendars in the realm of the dead?" you raise an eyebrow.

"Kind of. Time works differently when you're dead."

"Makes sense," you nod. "Do you want anything? Do ghosts...eat?"

"We can't eat living people food as far as I know. I miss it," Joey's smile falters a little. 

"Can I offer you like water, or a beer or something?" you ask as you let the drummer sit on your couch. 

"I'll try to have a beer."

Considering Joey's able to sit on your couch without falling through it, you assume he's able to drink a beer. You grab two from your fridge and return to the living room to hand it to your companion. He's able to take it with an unusual amount of ghost strength needed to hold it. 

The moments leading up to Joey taking a first sip of beer make you nervous. This is a nice couch and getting alcohol stains out of furniture isn't an easy task. 

To yours and Joey's complete surprise, he's able to take a swig without an issue. 

"So I assume you're a Slipknot fan?" Joey looks over at your AHIG poster. 

"Yeah," you nod. "I like the Murderdolls, too."

"That's pretty sick," Joey smiles. "Ooh, a record player!"

Joey trots up to the table that houses your stacked turntable and CD player with your amps. Your records and CDs are all organized in shelves around and under the table. 

"What albums do you have? Can I look through them?"

"Go ahead," you nod. 

"Why do you have so much Devo?"

"My ex liked Devo and I collected a lot of Devo stuff to impress them," you look away as Joey's entire torso flips around so you can see his agape expression.

"Do you like Devo?" Joey raises an eyebrow. 

"I do now. Hurt to listen to for a while after the breakup, but I've moved on," you shrug. 

"Holy shit, it's all organized alphabetically. How did you have time to do this?" Joey keeps shuffling through your shelves. 

"It was a collaborative effort with a few friends, I can't take all the credit," you get up and turn on your turntable. "Let's listen to something."

"Yeah, let's listen to Slipknot!" Joey pulls out the Slipknot self titled album and grabs the record. 

As the songs play, Joey headbangs and sings with you while he tells you stories about everything during that time. He tells you about getting to sleep on the big couch in the recording mansion while Corey had to sleep on a loveseat, this one time he went out with the band and didn't have to walk because Shawn was carrying him on his shoulders the whole time, all of it. Any lore that came to his mind, he told you. 

Even when the album ends, the stories don't. 

The needle drops on another album and a new conversation begins. Joey tells you about how inspired he was and still is by the old school heavy metal bands and how much they helped him discover his passion for music. 

"What about you, who inspires you?" Joey asks with genuine curiosity. 

"Frankly, you do," you reply. The inhibition that comes from having ran through two and a half bottles of beer give you a bit more confidence in saying that. 

"Really? Oh my god, thank you. I'm so honored."

"Yeah, I mean, it was difficult growing up and I wasn't ever really taught how to embrace my individuality, but you and other nu metal artists helped me a lot in gaining confidence in who I am," you elaborate.

"That's amazing. Hearing stuff like that makes it all worth it," Joey gives you a warm smile. "I'm glad we could help you."

...

Hours of conversation go by until you notice that Joey's extremities are starting to fade and lose their glow. You point it out and ask if he needs to go back to wherever he was before. 

He gives you another warm, gentle smile as he stands next to the circle. 

"Don't let anyone get you down, okay? You're a total badass and no one can take that away from you. And if it ever gets hard, I'm right there with you," Joey brings you in for a chilly hug. 

...

rest in power, joey <3