#IF ANYBODY WANTS TO PIPE IN IN THE REPLIES PLEASE DO ID LOVE TO TALK AND HEAR FROM YALL

[prommytheus]

Hades 2 looks really damn good so far but i think so far it lacks Hades OG’s unique swagger that I feel really drew people to it. I think as it develops further and it receives more input it’ll resolve most of my gripes, but there are some just fundamental vibe differences that are always going to keep it lower than Hades in my personal book

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Seventy-Nine

Words: 4.1k

Warning(s): explicit language, violence, explicit sexual situations, substance abuse, mentions of assault

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I hum along to the Christmas music softly playing over the speakers of the grocery store as I walk down the aisles, pushing my buggy, looking at the different types of cereal. 

Nikki doesn't like sweet cereals aside from Captain Crunch, so I just grab a box of it before heading to grab toilet paper and paper towels, along with some eggs, and head to the checkout line, my attention stalling on a tabloid on display. 

"Nikki Sixx & Vanity: Their 'Friendship' Timeline," it reads, a picture of Vanity and Nikki plastered on the front...I exhale sharply.

I can't believe it's been four months since Vanity aired out their dirty laundry on TV. 

That means Duff and I have been together for three and a half months...

I'm quickly backing up and walking to the sexual health section, examining the many brands of pregnancy tests. 

I grab the cheapest and go back to the line. 

"I told them not to put those out," my cashier states to me when it's my turn, as she sees me give another glance to the magazine with my husband and his mistress on the front.

When she gets to the pregnancy test, she clears her throat. 

"Celebratory or...?" She asks, swiping the test. 

I pretend I don't hear her. 

I shut my trunk, my arms wrapped around grocery bags as I step to the front door, of the house, the sun setting through the neighborhood, and I sigh heavily as I grab my key. 

I haven't been home in a couple days, avoiding Nikki as much as I can, but I know we need groceries in the house and I know he hasn't left to get any, and even though I'm done with him, I don't want him to starve or something. 

Opening the front door, the house is a wreck just from a glance, and I quietly shut the door in case he's asleep, and head to the kitchen.

I quickly stop in my tracks when I see through the dim light, coming from the single lamp in the foyer, figures moving in the living room, a light littering of giggles flittering through the air…

I turn the lights on, nearly dropping the groceries to see eight girls in lingerie, girls at least in their late teens, piled on Nikki—and Steven—lips swollen from making out with each other and euphoric glows casting over all of them. 

I'm at a loss for words. 

Nikki and Steven just look at me, Steven looking like a guilty kid. 

"Is that your wife?" One of the girls straddling Nikki asks, looking at me, wide eyed. 

"Ex-wife." I correct her. 

This is where the story tends to get misconstrued. If you ask Nikki or Steven what happened, they'll tell you it went down like this…

"Vivian put the fuckin' gun down!" Nikki yells at me as I hold his shotgun, the girls screaming and scattering like roaches while he and Steven run to the backyard as I pump a bullet into the chamber and fire off, missing them by a couple inches as our wall by the back door is blown to hell, chasing after them and emptying the gun in our backyard whilst trying to shoot them. 

What actually happened…

"Get out of my house." I tell the girls harshly and they look at me, pissy. 

"If I want them here, they can be here." Nikki argues. 

"They're babies, Nikki!" I shout, and the girls all defensively simultaneously let out their ages, ranging between 18 to 20, but I honestly don't see how some of them are over 17. "Then let me see your ID." I tell them. 

"We came to hook up, we didn't come to get interrogated." One of them states. 

"Okay, well, you've had your fifteen minutes with Nikki Sixx so you can get out of my house." I repeat.

"Fuck off!" She exclaims to me and I raise my brows. 

Fuck it. 

I go to our bedroom and grab what I need, and I don't give anybody a warning before firing off shotgun shrapnel into our glass ceiling, shards of mirror raining down as I hear the girls holler and cry out in fear, scampering to the door in their heels, and once the gun is unloaded, I look in the living room and see fluffy black and blonde hair peek up from behind the couch, their eyes bugging, pupils taking up most of their eye.

When the cops showed up, I said I accidentally fired into the ceiling while trying to clean the gun. They were fans of Nikki so they didn't give us a fine for public disturbance, and they didn't ask why eight girls were in our lawn in lingerie, either.

"I cannot believe you." I grit through my teeth when Steven blocks my entrance into their rehearsal studio, his heavy panting clouding the words trying to come from his mouth. "Did you run here?!" I exclaim and he nods, still trying to catch his breath, still trying to get his apology out that I can't even hear because he's talking but not saying a word due to his breathing. "Moron." I hiss, shoving him out of my way to get inside. 

"Viv, wait!" He musters out, following me. 

"Fuck you!" I shout. 

"Vivian, please, let me—" he gasps for breath some more. 

"—I hope you're having an asthma attack or something, I really do, dumbass, I really do." I march away from him and he grabs my wrist, a pathetic look on his face. 

"Look—"

"—No, you 'look,' I refuse to be the little bitch that just lays on her back and let's everybody fuck her to hell with their bullshit. It's gross and it's disgusting and you should be ashamed of yourself for even being apart of it, Steven, because I thought you wouldn't do that shit to me. Just 'haha it's so hot to do stupid shit that'll hurt Vivian,'" I mock his voice, and he tries to talk again, "No, just shut up and go suck on Nikki's balls some more because I don't think those teenage girls did it enough!" I turn on my heel go to find the guys. 

"You're not mad about their age, you're mad Nikki didn't give a fuck." He gets out, taking deep breaths and I stop and turn to look at him, rolling my jaw. "You're jealous, and you know you are, and it's okay and normal to be, Viv, I know you still—"

"—Know I still what, Steven? Hmm? Love him?" I furrow my brows, stepping to him, my heels clicking on the floor when I get face to face to him, our nose nearly touching, my voice shaking with anger as I say, "He could die tomorrow and I wouldn't give a single fuck because he's been dead to me for months. And as of right now, you are to. So don't come at with me trying to strike up some empathy for a person I feel absolutely apathetic about." I sneer quietly, turning. "And stay away from teenagers. I don't care if they're eighteen or nineteen, they're still fucking kids."

I grind my teeth together as I leave him standing in the hallway before I try to go into the girls bathroom, only for it to be locked. 

"Damn it." I mumble, holding back tears, glancing at the door of the boys bathroom. 

Without shit given, I open the door and walk in, seeing Izzy standing over the toilet, cigarette in his mouth, peeing. 

He glances over his shoulder and looks at me. 

"Viv." He says the best he can, smoke puffing past his lips. 

"Izzy." I reply, sitting my purse on the sink, digging through it. "Sorry, the girls bathroom was taken." I mumble. 

"No problem." He replies. "Not like you haven't seen it before." He adds and I roll my eyes. 

"Unfortunately." I sigh out, grabbing the box with the pregnancy test in it. "Hurry up, please." 

He looks at me to say something smart back, but looks at the box and his face falls. 

"Jesus fuck, Viv, what do you have that for?" He asks me. 

"Okay, I know you went to high school in Indiana and their version of Sex Education was just ways to stick your dick in a pickup truck's tail pipe without getting carbon monoxide poisoning, but when a man and woman have sex, they have a risk of procreation." I tell him. 

"With Duff? " He asks me with a confused face. 

"No, I got Bret Michaels and Willie Nelson to cum in a cup and I mixed it together and went from there." I sarcastically hiss.

"Fuck you, smart ass, I was asking a legitimate question." He zips his pants back up and steps aside for me. 

"Yes, with Duff. I haven't had sex with Nikki in months." I tell him. 

"Sorry, I didn't know if you were doing them both or what." He shrugs and I glare at him. 

"No. I'm not." I inform him, pulling my dress up and my panties down. 

"Okay, that's my cue." He says, turning away from me, in reference to my naked bottom half. 

"Not like you haven't seen it before." I repeat what he said earlier and he chuckles, going to open the door. "You're leaving?" I ask him, quickly, and he looks at me.

"Yeah?"

"I need support." I tell him, honestly sounding scared and he leans his head back and rubs his eyes. 

"Vivian, babe, I can just go get Duff—"

"—No, no, he doesn't need to know I even think I'm pregnant." I state, panicked. "Look, it'll take a few minutes but I can't wait for the result by myself, it'll drive me up the wall." I plead with him. 

"Well, what if you are pregnant, are you gonna tell him, then?" 

"I-I don't know." I admit. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there just, please, stay in here with me."

He lets out a heavy breath before nodding, rubbing his forehead. 

"Alright, alright. Just piss on the stick because I'm missing rehearsal for this." 

It was an agonizing wait, but once Izzy glanced at his watch and said, "alright, it's been long enough," I felt like it had only been a few seconds. 

"Maybe we should a wait a little bit more." I suggest.

"Viv, it's been ten minutes. You already put it off once before, come on, now. Cowgirl up." He tells me. 

"Okay." I breathe out, anxious, rubbing my lips together and shakily reaching for the test before quickly snatching away. "I can't do it." I say to him, shaking my head. "You look at it and tell me." 

"Vivian—"

"—Please?" I beg, giving him my best puppy dog eyes and he lets out a breath and reaches for the test, looking at it, nodding a little. 

"Well, Stripey, we're at the bridge, how're you gonna cross it?" He asks me, handing me the test, and I see a perfectly shaped "+" on it. 

I started to panic, and think irrationally, as I do when I'm backed into a corner. So in my panicked state, the best thing I saw for me to do, was...

"You are fucking insane." He tells me sharply, leaning against the sink. "Like evil insane." 

"Izzy, I don't know what else to do aside from just get rid of it or hope and pray I miscarry, and that's kinda fucked." I explain, holding back tears. 

"You want to fuck Nikki and just play it off as his—that's more fucked up than praying the damn thing away!" He whipser yells. "And what about Duff? What the hell happens to him when you pull that shit?" 

"I don't know, Izzy, alright? But he doesn't need a kid to worry about when he's just starting to get a taste of what he's wanted for years, now, and I don't want to—"

"—He's going to be fucked up with the idea of you still screwing Nikki when he's under the impression that you two are gonna be this magical little fairytale of unicorns and sparkles and love and shit, Vivian!" 

"I know, but I don't know what else to do!" I reply in the same tone. 

"Oh, my God." Izzy exhales smoke from his fresh cigarette. "You can't tell me this shit. You shouldn't have even let me know about this because now I'm a fucking accomplice to your batshit crazy scheme." He scolds me. 

"Izzy—"

"—You are the fucking devil, Vivian. Axl was right. You are the actual devil." 

"Well, you tell me what to do, Izzy, because that's the only thing I can come up with!" 

"Why does it matter if the child is Nikki's or not, you two are getting divorced anyway, so why does it matter if it's somebody else's?" He questions, and I stay quiet. "You are filing for divorce, right?" 

More silence. 

"Oh. My. God."

"Izz—"

"—Will you quit incriminating me with you when you do stupid shit?!" He lets out, slightly panicking. "Now im gonna be fucked sideways if they find out I knew and never said anythi--why the fuck were you even screwing Duff if you weren't a thousand percent sure you were gonna leave Nikki?!" 

"Because I thought I was but no—"

"—Izz, you alright?!" 

"Duff." Izzy  mouths to me. "Shhhit." 

"Answer him." I mouth back. 

"Yeah, man, I'm good...just really, um, fucked on that pizza from earlier!" He lies as I shove the pregnancy test box back in my purse along with the test, and zip it up. 

"Okay, dude, just making sure!" Duff replies, the sound of him walking away letting us know the coast is clear. 

Just to make sure Izzy sticks his head out of the door, and glances at me. 

"Go," he motions and I do. "Last door on the left of that hall." He adds and I go in that direction, opening the door and seeing Axl, Duff, Slash and even Steven has joined them. 

"Hey," Duff's face lights up when he sees me, and be puts his bass down as I walk to him. 

He wraps an arm around my waist and leans in, pressing a chaste kiss to my lips. 

"Hi," I smile when he pulls away, looking into his eyes, while I can see Izzy staring at me from the corner of my eye, taking a drink from his cup with this look on his face like I've just killed his best friend. 

I honestly might if I'm not careful. 

Once their rehearsal is over, it's around 5:00pm, and my stomach is killing me. 

"Can we get food?" I ask him, my hand in his as we step to the parkinglot. 

"No, I'm just gonna let you starve." He sarcastically lets out and I cut my eyes up at him. "Where do you wanna eat?" He asks next, letting my hand go so he can grab his pack of Marlboros and settle one between his lips, lighting it, before grabbing my hand again. 

"I don't know." I shrug. 

"I thought you said you're hungry." He says next. 

"I am—that doesn't mean I know what I want to eat." I add and he just looks at me. 

"Do you want a burger?" He suggests and I wrinkle my nose. "Okay...chicken?" Again, I don't look pleased. "Dennys?"

"That's fine with me." I nod. 

"Thank God." He sighs. "My car or yours?" He asks next. 

"Doesn't matter." I tell him. 

"Alright, we'll take mine." He says, stepping to the passenger side, opening the door for me without a second thought. 

"Aww," Slash says as he comes out of the building, teasing Duff from behind his shades and his own cigarette. 

Duff just smiles and flips him off, walking to the driver's side. 

"I'll see you later tonight, man!" Slash calls. 

"Alright!" Duff says back, shutting the door, fumbling for his keys to put them into the ignition. 

"You guys are going out tonight?" I ask him as he cranks the car. 

"Yeah, you can come." He offers and I shake my head a little. 

"Um, I was actually gonna go visit with Sharise and Skylar for a few hours, tonight." I tell him. 

(Pt. 79 CONT.)

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

Honestly I had just said it as an observation but I definitely wouldnt say no to some cute modern Jask and singalongs 💕

Fandom: The WitcherPairing; Modern!Jaskier x Platonic!GeraltWord Count: 1,461Rating: T for swearingTaglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak @whatevermonkey @mynamesoundslikesherlock a/n: It was really fun translating their dynamic and their characters into modern times so thanks for that! Hope you like it!

Geralt had been so careful.

Their weekly hangouts had conveniently always ended up around karaoke nights which meant Jaskier spent more time performing than he did catching up. Geralt had asked to plan the next hangout and he was certain he’d chosen the perfect spot. An old dive he’d snuck into as a kid without needing fake ID, no one cared enough to ask. It wasn’t the kind of spot Jaskier would ever go on his own but he’d put on a brave face, determined to make the most of things.

At first it was going well. They ordered ale and chatted a bit. Geralt wasn’t bit on small talk but he asked the usual things, “how’s work”, “do I need to kick anybody’s ass?” etc. Jaskier begrudgingly asked about Yennefer and tried not to look too pleased that they were in an “off again” stage, knowing full well that before long it would be back on.

They were playing darts when it happened.

Geralt was lining up a shot that would end the game, finally beating Jaskier who had proven to be weirdly adept at darts, when he heard his friend gasp. The dart went flying, nearly hitting the bartender, as Geralt spun to see what had scared Jaskier. But it wasn’t fear he saw on his face; it was delight.

And he was staring at the jukebox.

There was an unwritten rule that you didn’t play the jukebox. It was more decorative than anything and never once in his whole life had Geralt heard any sound come from it. Hell, he didn’t know if the thing worked. It seemed he was about to find out.

“I’ve always wanted one of these!” Jaskier said excitedly, looking through the song selection.

“Jaskier c’mon they don’t want music, if they did they’d be playing it,” Geralt said, trying to pull his friend away. Jaskier shook him off and when he gasped a second time Geralt knew he’d found a song.

The jukebox accepted Jaskier’s quarter and it lit up as a tune that sounded vaguely familiar broke through the quiet bar. Conversation slowed to a hush and Geralt could feel eyes from every corner of the room on him and his oblivious friend.

And then, as things usually did, it got much, much worse.

“Mama…. Just killed a man…”

“Fuck.”

“Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger now he’s dead….”

“Jaskier we shoul-“

“Mamaa,” Jaskier pressed a finger to Geralt’s lips, silencing his protest, “Life had juuust beguuuun, but now I’ve gone and thrown it aaall awaaaay.”

“You’re telling me,” Geralt mumbled, sending death glares to anyone who glared at Jaskier.

“MAMAAAAA OOOooOooOoHHHHHH…. DIDN’T MEAN TO MAKE YOU CRY!”

“Goddamnit Jaskier.”

“IF I’M NOT BACK AGAIN THIS TIME TOMORROW! CARRY OOON CARRY ON! As if nothing really matters… OY! Geralt!”

Geralt grabbed Jaskier firmly by the collar and pulled him back to their booth as the music continued to the next verse.

“What are you doing Geralt? You can’t not sing along to Bohemian Rhapsody, it’s Queen for god’s sake!” Jaskier exclaimed, genuinely insulted.

“Jaskier this isn’t one of your karaoke clubs where people break out into song!”

“I see a little silhouette of a man.”

The voice piped up behind Geralt and for a moment he wondered if Jaskier had learned how to throw his voice but Jaskier was looking behind him, that same damn look of delight he’d shown when Geralt begrudgingly agreed to sing a duet with him. It had been Hakuna Matata, so it didn’t count, he reasoned. Yennefer recording it on her phone and posting it online had been one of the many things to trigger their being off again.

Across the bar, another voice joined.

“Scaramouche! Scaramouche! Can you do the fandango?”

In a chorus the bar cried out, “THUNDERBOLTS AND LIGHTNING, VERY, VERY FRIGHTNING ME!”

The same two from before sang the next part and Jaskier watched in glee. Geralt would never admit this but he admired Jaskier’s courage. Wherever he went he was his authentic self and worked to make others feel like they could be themselves as well. And he somehow saw or created beautiful moments wherever he went. The fact he thought this bar full of grizzly looking strangers breaking out into song was beautiful was a secret he would take to his grave but he felt it nonetheless. He was about to say something to Jaskier, something about being glad he brought him here or something else that vaguely hinted at the larger feelings that hid behind it. But then Jaskier jumped on the table.

“SO YOU THINK YOU CAN STONE ME AND SPIT IN MY EYEEEEE!” Jaskier held the glass ketchup bottle aloft, singing into it and then using it as an air guitar while Geralt anxiously held the slightly wobbly old table steady.

“SO YOU THINK YOU CAN LOVE ME AND LEAVE ME TO DIIIIIIIE OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH BABYYYY CAN’T DO THIS TO ME BAAABYYY JUSTGOTTAGETOUUUUT JUSTGOTTAGET RIGHT OUTTA HEEEERE!”

Geralt didn’t bother trying to pull his friend down, he just resigned himself to finishing out the performance, mumbling to himself about how long this fucking song was anyway as it began to slow back down and Jaskier knelt on the table, gesturing like a Shakespearean performer orating a soliloquy as he performed the final lines to a watching crowd.

“Nothing really matters, anyone can see… Nothing really matters…. To meeeeee……”

The rest of the bar sang “Anyway the wind blows” and then it was done.

Except, of course, it wasn’t done. The crowd cheered and more coins were put in the machine as Jaskier performed encores and pulled other patrons out of their seats to take a turn until it might as well have been one of the karaoke bars they usually went to.

When they finally left the bar, long after closing time and only after Jaskier had exchanged contact information with practically every person in there, he noticed Geralt’s silence was a little less stony and a little more sad than usual.

“Geralt, what’s happened? Did Yennefer text you while I was leading the gang through the chorography for Bad Romance? You could have pulled me away, they had it after one go ‘round of the chorus,” he said, giving his friend a concerned look. Geralt grunted and shook his head, trying to keep walking towards the car.

“Well something has happened,” Jaskier said, running in front of his large friend and halting his progress. “Come on, Geralt, talk to me.”

Geralt took a deep breath that turned into mist in cold night air.

“I thought we were going to just have some time,” he grumbled.

“We’ve spent a good five hours together I think that’s some time,” Jaskier protested.

“It’s not the same when you’re… on,” Geralt said.

“On?”

“You know, you start performing and then everyone crowds around you and you’re not really there anymore,” Geralt said with a shrug.

“Oh, fuck, Geralt…” Jaskier said, his tone growing sad as his eyes gave Geralt a chagrined look that made him deeply uncomfortable, “Fuck I’ve been a bad friend, haven’t I?”

“I never said that-”

“No but I’m saying it. I didn’t realize that you felt so strongly about having time together but that’s stupid because of course you do, otherwise you wouldn’t even bring it up,” Jaskier said. Geralt grunted, neither a confirming or denying grunt but Jaskier understood its meaning.

“Tell you what, I can’t promise not to be swayed by the siren song of a, well, any song practically, but what if we go camping? Just you and me! On the road! No one else!” Jaskier offered.

“You want to go camping?” Geralt asked skeptically.

“Yes, why not? You have that old camper don’t you? We could take it out and have a weekend!”

“Do you even have hiking boots?” Geralt asked.

“I have boots!” Jaskier replied, which did not give Geralt hope. Still, he considered the idea for a moment and Jaskier could tell when he’d decided to give it a try, his lips shifting into a smile nearly too subtle to see.

“Hmm…. Alright. Not this coming weekend because you have that gig but the one after?” Geralt suggested. Jaskier gasped and Geralt realized his mistake too late.

“You remember my gigs! You do pay attention! Oh ho, you’re not living this one down, you can’t deny it anymore! You like my singing!”

Jaskier chased after his friend who was already storming back towards the car.

“I just keep track so I know what places to avoid,” he argued.

“Nooo you don’t! You always sneak in! You just think I don’t see you!”

The sound of their bickering slowly faded in the night air as the two friends headed home.