#lilith would be most likely to start a bar fight

[leaff0dil]

Shaka and Lilith redraw in the opening just cuz

[stoically]

“She never did. Before.”

Alright, the Bea/Ava run away fight. Let’s do this thing!

Rewatch #??? I notice how damn quickly in universe they go from fighting Adriel to this conversation. Like, Lilith and Ava fight, Mother dies, Ava resurrects her, the go for a shower and change of clothes then sit down for tea to discuss the miracle of resurrection and how two of their friends are probably dead. That’s when Bea says fuck prayers. Important to note how they sit down for tea. With Bea and Ava at exact opposite ends. Cinematographically this sets up the conversation visually, that they are already looking in different directions (literally). Story wise it shows how distant Bea is feeling from Ava in the wake of her decision. Bea then storms out because “who are we even praying to anyway.” 

This is actually really fucking significant and has been for some time. Beatrice has been doubting her faith in a number of super important ways. Admittedly most of them around her growing feelings of Ava. And because those doubts tie into that which she cannot allow to exist (big gay feelings) Bea has been avoiding the hell out of this conversation. Even when she was drunk and they were leaving the Bar Bea approached the topic of her faith and what Adriel means to it only a tiny bit before she shut it down. 

Ava knows this is an important conversation. One that has been some time in coming. So when she follows Bea outside the first thing she says is “Beatrice, talk to me.” And Bea does. 

She goes right to the heart of herself. “I let my emotions blind me to my mission.” Aka I let what I want *now* blind me to what I *should* want. Ava tries to address the explicit concern by pointing out how Bea saved her life. And Beatrice repeats herself explicitly with the addition of what ‘could have’ been better if she had done what she *should* have wanted and not what she *actually* wanted. Again, Ava talks about what Bea explicitly said and not what she implied. Pointing out that what ‘could have’ been better only happens if Ava dies in that scenario. 

This is not the first time they’ve done this. Their first fight was “excuse the fuck out of me” about exactly the same thing. Bea is so focused on what *should* be she ignores what it would *actually* mean for Ava. Ava’s far more grounded in reality (ironic considering the whole levitation thing). In the first argument Ava was able to point out that Ava and her happiness are the necessary sacrifices for Bea’s perfect *should*. 

Bea doesn’t acknowledge that point at all because it’s not actually what she ever wants to think about, thanks. She instead ‘clarifies’ what she’s saying by pointing out they’re only ‘delaying the inevitable’. What’s the inevitable, Bea? Because as much as you pretend you are, you’re not actually talking about fighting Adriel right now. You’re talking about having prioritized your wants over what is expected of you. And if what’s expect of you is ‘inevitable’ I wanna talk to your parents with a baseball bat.  Ava’s starting to get it at this point. 🥹 She’s giving off huge confused puppy dog eyes. She’s starting to realize there’s two conversations happening right now. “The Beatrice I know never stops fighting. Never looses hope.” She’s telling Beatrice she’s not acting like herself. That the Beatrice she knows would fight for a better way even if it meant not putting the crown first. That the Beatrice she knows fights to keep Ava safe. Fights to open up and let down her guard because Ava asked.

Beatrice agrees from the exact opposite direction. “No. She never did. Before.” She’s saying she changed because she put Ava first. Because she put Ava’s safety above the world’s and her love before her duty. Who she was Before didn’t love anyone like she loves Ava now. Who she was Before would leave Shannon to die in order to protect the halo. Who she was Before would risk Camila’s life and her own for the mission. Before means, clearly, Before she developed feelings for Ava. (Potentially before she knew Ava at all because her first action against that idealized version of Beatrice was returning to Cat’s Cradle to protect Ava and help Mary despite orders telling her to fuck right off as politely as she’d told Duretti to do so).

“You said we’d stop him our way.” (Italics from Netflix’s subtitles, which holy fuck) “Together.” Ava would her Bea back, please. She has spent months with that as her only Bea and this version is scary and closed off. Tellingly Ava then says “there’s always something else we can do.” She’s asking Bea to find an option with her. Any option that keeps Bea with her.  “There is nothing else you can do.” (Italics mine for emphasis) “Run. Hide.” And oh, oh, Beatrice shows she’s maybe not as changed as she’s hoping. Because if “our only priority now is to keep the halo out of Adriel’s hands” then Ava running off and hiding by herself is… kinda dumb? Like if running and hiding were the winning (or only) strategy right now then someone should go with Ava. And if fighting Adriel is something that someone needs to stay behind it should be Ava. The one with the superpowers literally chosen to do so. ‘Run away, hide and be safe while stay behind and do my duty’ is, like, such an emotionally repressed dumb ass idea actually.  This is when Ava advances, asking Bea to run with her, asking for Beatrice to be her Beatrice. And Bea puts her walls up instead. Denies Ava without further explanation. Keeps her arms crossed despite Ava have gotten into arms length. Despite Ava blinking away tears and looking like she’s about to cry for the first time in Beatrice’s vicinity without Beatrice holding her. Despite Ava playing with her own hands and literally holding herself back from reaching out.

I am a normal amount of sane about this. For reference, that’s horrible gutted and ready to throw things at my tv.

[black-plumbob]

Pleasantview Condos #2

I took a lot of liberties with the Oldies' story here. Because they're in the bin, I usually interpret the Oldies as moving back to Pleasantview after they hear about Daniel cheating on Mary-Sue. But in this save, Mary-Sue died under mysterious circumstances during the scripted events. Daniel and Kaylynn would be suspects #1 and #2, so I imagine CPS would probably take Angela and Lilith away from Daniel during the investigation, but Herb and Coral would do everything to prevent him from ever getting the twins back.

Additionally, I always found it kind of weird that the Oldies only have §20,000 to their name, despite (presumably) working all their lives. Neither of them have jobs, and neither or them are retired. Being unemployed fits the "just moved back to Pleasantview" storyline, but for this save, I wanted to do something different.

So for this save, I imagine the Oldies as Bluewater Village residents. The Pleasantview condos were built around the time Daniel and Mary-Sue started having marital problems (10-15 years ago, maybe?), so the Oldies purchased a condo as a second home in case Mary-Sue needed somewhere to get away from Daniel. During Angela and Lilith's childhood, Mary-Sue and Daniel were fighting so frequently that Herb and Coral had to move into the condo so that Angela and Lilith (and sometimes Mary-Sue) had somewhere to go.

Once Angela and Lilith were teenagers, Herb and Coral had enough of Mary-Sue's hemming and hawing. Although they kept the condo (in case of an emergency), they ultimately decided to move back to Bluewater Village and return to their restaurant.

After the mysterious circumstances around Mary-Sue's death, Coral and Herb moved back to the condo to take care of Angela and Lilith. So I decorated the condo to feel personal in the children's rooms, but temporary/factory-setting in the rest of the house.

I wasn't so sure about putting a bar in Herb and Coral's home at first. But when I thought about how much of a headache Mary-Sue and Daniel would've been throughout the years, I decided fuck it. Daniel and Mary-Sue would definitely drive Herb and Coral to drink.

Unlike Don's condo, I actually had stuff to put in Herb and Coral's garage. I didn't have space for all of Angela and Lilith's stuff (their bedrooms are tiny), so I put their belongings in the garage. I'm not sure if their dressers will cause routing errors with the driveway, but I'm really hoping they won't 🤞

I didn't really know what to put in this area of the house, so I left most of it empty.

Although the study isn't necessarily for Angela and Lilith, I decided to decorate it kind of childish. I don't think Coral would be in the study often, and I think Herb would be in here hardly ever. But I'm sure that Angela and Lilith were coming in here often to surf the 90's web ;)

I decided to make Angela's favorite color green (based on her og dress), but I was tempted to make her childhood room pink. I wanted it to feel distinct from how she might decorate now that she's 16. But I decided that the canopy bed, the tiny dresser, and the paw print sheets were enough to indicate that this room belonged to her when she was a child. So I decided that I didn't need to also change her childhood favorite color.

Unlike Angela, I did decide to change Lilith's favorite color. There wasn't much to go off canonically, since there's only 1 childhood photo of Lilith, and she's hiding in the shadows. Since og Lilith is a popularity sim, I decided to go with a stereotypical "popular girl" color. Though I decided against pink, since pink is Coral's favorite color. After recalculating Lilith's aspiration, she turned out to be a pleasure sim. So perhaps she was a bit of a popularity sim when she was a child, but she outgrew it as a teenager.

I decided to do something a little more childish for Angela and Lilith's shared bathroom. I wasn't sure how to make a bathroom that looked like it belonged to both Angela and Lilith, so I kind of just decided on making it look like Coral was trying her best. Like she either decorated it when Angela and Lilith first started coming to the condo, couldn't remember what was age-appropriate for an 8-year-old (as opposed to a 5-year-old), or Coral didn't adopt Mary-Sue until she was older than Angela and Lilith's age (and didn't know how to decorate for their age).

I couldn't find a wall covering that fit this Nickelodeon monstrosity, so I decided to paint the wall with the same minimalist style as the rest of the condo. When I was decorating the lot, I was thinking that prior to Mary-Sue's death, Herb and Coral were trying to prepare the condo to be sold, and started their renovations with the worst offender (this bathroom). However, I'm now thinking that maybe the renovations aren't because Herb and Coral were trying to sell the condo, but that they started renovations once Angela and Lilith moved back in. I'm sure 16-year-old girls would find this bathroom embarrassing. Especially Lilith, whom I imagine is always bothering Herb and Coral because she wants to use their bathroom instead.

When I was making a puppy for Nina, I wanted her and Don to both have puppies from the same litter. Normally, I use Cyd Roseland as my dog breeder. But since he's all the way in Viper Canyon, I needed a litter from someone closer to home. I decided to use the Oldies, which is what gave me the idea to move them into one of the condos :) I figure that when Dina, Nina, and Don moved into the neighborhood, the Oldies told them they had puppies. So I made a litter of 4. Nina and Don both took 1 puppy each, and the other 2 ended up in the adoption pool. Although I would like Dina to adopt one, I just don't see Dina as a big dog person. Plus, the Goths already have a schipperke, so they need another small dog for breeding.

Again, I was heavily torn on where to put Mary-Sue. I feel like too many Pleasantview lots have graves on them already. But considering the sudden and mysterious circumstance around Mary-Sue's death, I just couldn't see Herb and Coral putting her in a graveyard. I also didn't want to keep her in the house where she caught her husband cheating (and also may have been murdered in).

At first, I wanted to put Mary-Sue in an urn somewhere in the house. But the condo is so small that I couldn't find a spot that felt right. If I put her in an urn somewhere, she probably would've ended up in the garage or in the living room closet. So I decided to put her in the shade of the tree that Angela and Lilith used to swing in when they were kids.

[doubledash7]

The Sims 2: Uberhood Playthrough - Round 1 (Pleasant)

We are back this week with the Pleasants! As stated in the family bio: "On the surface, Daniel and Mary-Sue Pleasant seem to have the perfect life, but is their love a flimsy façade? And can Angela and Lilith make the right choices when it comes to love?"

Daniel and Mary-Sue met as children and followed the standard social norms that most Sims can only hope to achieve: dating, university, buying a house and marriage! Daniel was a rising football star and Mary-Sue dreamed of serving her community through the politics career. Sometimes Daniel wondered if Mary-Sue was more interested in his family name (given that the Pleasant's family were instrumental in the town's founding) and social climbing, and this only seemed to become more apparent after their wedding.

Despite these doubts, Daniel loved Mary-Sue dearly, and they went on to start their family. Angela and Lilith soon came along and added another layer to the Pleasant's marriage. While Daniel loved his daughter's, he soon began to feel trapped. He longed for the days of hanging with his teammates and girls throwing themselves at him. Could he keep a lid on his desires?

Daniel quickly noticed that Mary-Sue was playing favourites, putting all her time and energy into Angela, with Lilith left to the side. Luckily for Lilith, her dad did not have the same tunnel vision. She had a friend and supporter in her dad.

As the girls grew up, they grew further apart. Lilith resented her sister for the attention, and Angela felt Lilith was a waste of time. This friction spilled over into their parents relationship. The main difference being that Daniel wanted both of their daughters to be treated equally, while Mary-Sue could only say negative things about Lilith. Their marriage deteriorated further, and the love seemed all but gone. This led to Daniel seeking it elsewhere in the form of their maid, Kaylynn. Mary-Sue caught them together one day and while most would expect all hell to break loose, Mary-Sue was calm and simply told Daniel not to do it again. Daniel was confused and had hoped this was a way out, but Mary-Sue had picked their image to the rest of the town over and sort of happiness.

Lilith often escaped the misery that was home by heading over to the Dreamer's and spending time with Dirk. What started as a friendship soon blossomed into love. Lilith felt welcomed into the Dreamer home and it was a great escape when her dad was working and she was stuck with her mother and sister.

Over the years, Daniel and Mary-Sue slowly rebuilt their relationship as they both realised that she needed to make more of an effort and time for each other. Their position in the town came with a lot of responsibility and constant scrutiny. Image is everything to Mary-Sue, even if she has to romantically hug her cheating husband. Although she was starting to remember why she fell in love with him the first place, so her actions were starting to become more genuine.

And luckily for Angela and Lilith, today is their 18th birthday's, so they will be heading to university. Angela once again is starting a fight with Lilith, which always seems to be the case.

After their last day of school, only Angela was able to score herself a scholarship due to her good grades. Lilith only just scrapped by with a C+.

It wasn't long before both girls were jumping in the taxi to head to university. Let's hope (for the taxi driver's sake) that it's not a long drive!

Daniel and Mary-Sue wasted no time!

*sigh* Daniel...Just when Mary-Sue was starting to trust you again. Not only were you already thinking about extra lovers while with your wife, now you want woohoo with three Sims!

And then Mary-Sue decides to set the kitchen alight. Maybe she was angry for a reason she doesn't understand yet...

Daniel decides to head down to the bar on his day off. He throws a cheeky gesture Isabel Baldwin's way. She's married Daniel! Like you are supposed to be??

That certainly doesn't stop him trying to pick up the bartender, Vicki. Oops, she looks bored of him already. Daniel barely gets a relationship going with her before he has to head home. A sudden "pink" storm decided to stop by!

That dreaded chance card pops up again for Mary-Sue! Luckily this one isn't rigged! The choice of chance cards is decided by a simple random number roll between 1 and 3.

Woohoo! (no, not that kind) Mary-Sue currently doesn't need any skill points as she is still an intern, but it's always a bonus to get skills you don't have to work for.

Daniel decides to try again with Vicki the bartender and I think she worked out who she was after picking up a sports magazine. Now she is ready for some fun!

And woohoo number three is a success. And with five minutes to spare before Mary-Sue comes home. Luckily he got her out of the house before Mary-Sue saw anything.

And it's a good thing she didn't, as Mary-Sue returned home sick! There's always one person who still attends work sick and spreads it around the office! Mary-Sue heads straight for a bubble bath.

Daniel has the whole middle of the week off, and he is using every minute of it. He makes sure to invite Vicki over before she starts work for some more woohoo! The bedroom is old news now, so it's time for the hot tub to see some use.

Now that Angela and Lilith have moved out, a little renovation is in order! Angela's room has been converted into an office for Mary-Sue. Someday soon she may be running for Mayor, and every Sim needs to have a headquarters. Lilith's old room was also split into two rooms, as I always thought a grand house like this should have more bedrooms.

Maybe one of the first things Mary-Sue could look at is the crime rate. First the Goth's, now the Pleasant's? Gordon is certainly keeping himself busy this round. Unfortunately, there was no car alarm on Daniel's car to scare him off, so his sports car and the hot tub got stolen. Imagine just casually putting an in-ground hot tub in (or on) a sports car and driving away.

Hobby chance card fail! The bad luck continues for Daniel. He is demoted back to a Superstar. A stolen car and a demotion. Maybe some karma for the neighbourhood sleazebag!

One redeeming quality about Daniel is his commitment to his children. One teeny, tiny detail I forgot to mention earlier about Daniel's affair with Kaylynn is that...they had a son together, Rohan! His existence further confirmed Mary-Sue's obsession with image, as she did everything possible to keep him a secret. Mary-Sue paid Kaylynn a large amount to help raise Rohan, however, Daniel wanted to be a part of his son's life. Rohan comes to stay sometimes. You can tell how happy Mary-Sue is about that.

Daniel and Rohan enjoying some buttered toast (Daniel is not a very good cook) before he was picked up by his mother. Rohan is the sweetest and one of my favourite Sims! He is due to be come a Fortune sim when aging up. Mary-Sue avoided him the entire sleepover. We will get to see more of him when we reach the Langerak household.

Daniel picked up his new sports car, and also brought a "friend" home from work (we all know she will be more than a friend to Daniel). Her name is Julie. Mary-Sue cooked the three of them dinner before heading to the study to work on her Logic skill. This left Daniel and Julie some time alone for a quick make-out!

It was Mary-Sue's turn for a day off on the last day of their round. With her daughters full grown, Mary-Sue can now get back into her own creative pursuits, namely pottery! She has herself set up in the garage for now, but it might be nice to use one of the extra bedrooms or part of her study and turn it into an art corner someday.

And we finished the round with Daniel getting promoted back to an assistant coach. Let's hope he doesn't chicken out of the next hobby challenge chance card. Now he might be more appealing to Julie and he'll score that fourth woohoo! And that's the end of the Pleasant's first round. Hope you have enjoyed reading about their time in my Uberhood.

[books-and-catears]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write some headcanons on how the brothers would react to the alternate timeline MC (the one killed by belphie, rip) haunting the house of lamentation? I just think some angst would be neato. Keep up the good work! I love your writing <3

Oh how much I love this concept. With all the ghost MCs I've been writing this fits in perfectly. How I love writing angst hehehe thank you for this wonderful ask

Thank you so much for your kindness. I hope I can do this justice :')

It has been months since you've been gone. Your body buried in the human world, and yet your soul still felt like it was lingering.

They could see you - a glimpse here, a whisper there and your presence everywhere. Almost as if you just walked past them into your room, and lay curled up in bed with Satan's new books or Levi's new manga. Only you weren't.

The bumps in your bed were just pillows and blankets. The extra chair stood out like a sore thumb. They would so often call you and then feel stupid for expecting a response. Except you had started answering back now.

Lucifer could often hear paper rustling in his sleep. And when he woke up he found the paper work was done more than he remembered doing.

He found his favourite tea brewing whenever he was too tired. And it tasted exactly how you used to make it.

At first he thought it was some sort of sickening joke from his brothers so he threatened to punish them if they didn't come clean. But it was none of them.

Then...MC? Did you come back somehow?

He went into a secret frenzy, looking for you everywhere. Sometimes when the house was empty, he screamed out your name, he could hear your voice softly calling back from your room.

Soon those soft vague sounds became his only comfort - he became super strict about silence in the house. He refused to have any other tea than the one he found magically brewing. He'd always kiss the cups before drinking from them, and his eyes would sting with unshed tears.

___________________________________________

Mammon might be scared of ghosts. But not you. Never you. Especially when he could feel your weight in his arms whenever he missed you too much.

Maybe the sensation was more vivid, since he was the last one to hold you alive. He could also see you. A faint shadow that walked beside and waved to him whenever he was in your room.

And though the shadow had no face, he could tell it was smiling. He felt calm around it. Like you never left. He denied your death the most and now there was reason to.

He barely left the house and most of the time he just stayed in your room. That's where he had most memories with you. Sometimes he found coins and Grimm strewn around your bed, as if you'd left it there for him. He took them and stored them away, never to spend them.

He was overjoyed when he saw your shadow in his room. He started talking to it like it was you, pressing his lips against the walls where you appeared and watching your shadow reaching up to touch his shadow, holding it tight. In those moments he swore he could feel your arms around him again. And on those nights, his pillows would be drenched with his agony.

___________________________________________

Leviathan first noticed it when he saw that Player 2 was always logged in, in all of his games. Even the ones that came months after you were longer there.

And while player two didn't actively play, he found boost items in his game inventory that he didn't achieve himself. You used to hunt down boost items to help with his battles and he protected you during the fights.

He starts getting even more into gaming, to the point where he forgets to go out for meals. Mammon and Satan have to drag him out to eat. He often just sits there talking to himself as if you're still there.

Then one day, in the group texts of the game, he sees you text. Player 2: 'Go get him Levi! I got your back; we have a lot of ammo!" He forgot the game altogether desperately typing back a message.

You don't text as often as he would like, but he's always waiting for whatever you say. It's easily the best part of his day. If he fell asleep in front of the screen, he would wake up covered with a blanket and good morning message on screen. His brothers claim to never have gone inside so he knows it's you. He cries into the blanket you covered him with cause he misses you.

___________________________________________

Satan came to feel your presence in the strangest way. There was a particular cat that you were attached to. That cat started finding ways to sneak inside the house, in the library or Satan's room, holding small books in its mouth.

When Satan opened them up, he found petals of your favourite flowers tucked away in some particular pages. It resembled the way you marked your favorite chapters using colored bits of paper or bookmarks.

He figured out a way to talk to you. He made something that resembled an Ouija board and left a little cat shaped button on it. He tried it out in your room, and it worked. You were talking back. Not whole sentences but broken phrases and words. So he used yes and no questions from then onwards.

He often found new books in his room, a hint that you wanted him to read them. While reading, he could swear he felt your head rest on his shoulder as if trying to read with him. He also left books in your room to read. Though he missed your touch and your voice, the fact that you still talk to him gave him so much joy. He often kisses the books he gives you, hoping they reach your fingers and litters the pages with tear stains in hopes you'd see them and come back.

___________________________________________

Asmodeus screamed the first time he saw you behind him in the mirror. You were transculent, barely visible. But it was you and your distinct smile and wave of the hand, leaning against his bathroom wall, long streaks of dried blood near your neck. He could even smell you - your scent like flowers, firewood and old books.

He tries to talk to you, even tries to hold you but you're just an image. A reflection that reflects nothing but empty space. You don't seem to talk but you nod or shake your head in reply. He presses himself into the mirror as if trying to hug you tight.

But lately he hears whispers, very faint and barely there but he hears them. Always calling him somewhere where there is a mirror. Cause that's the only place he can see you. If you thought he was obsessed with mirrors then, you should see him now.

He almost covered his whole room up with mirrors so he could see you from all angles, making you feel as alive as he possibly could. He screams your name into his pillows. Maybe you would respond if he was louder?

___________________________________________

Beelzebub often passed by you room, all covered now, just like Lilith's. The door was always kept open but he didn't dare enter. But one day, a strong gust of wind blew it wide open as if urging him to enter. So he did.

On the bed he found some fresh treats placed right in the middle of your bed. It was the treats he loved to eat together with you. How did they even get here?

He sat on the bed and absent mindedly started eating. When he ate, he could hear your laughter and you talking - a surge of memories flooding his senses. And when he was done, he could swear he felt your fingers wiping his mouth.

Eversince then he refused to eat anywhere except your room and his brothers had to drag him to the table during breakfast and dinner. But whenever a new bakery or restaurant opened, he would bring all the food back only to eat it in your room. And he would smile, listening to saying how delicious the food is. He would often clutch at his chest and cry, missing the way you used to hold him whenever he was sad. Won't you come hold him now, MC?

___________________________________________

Belphegor couldn't feel a thing. The only way he knew you were still here was when he brothers acted strangely. He'd ask them of course, but they'd never reply to him. He was the reason MC was gone. Why would MC show themself to him?

So he observed his brothers, always cautious for every little thing that was out of place. He'd caught all his brothers crying at some point or the other. Especially in your room. So he'd curl up in your room to spend the night in there hoping to feel you like his brothers. Only he never did, and Mammon and Satan would scream and drag him out the next morning.

None of the brothers would let him inside of their own rooms either. They couldn't save you when it mattered. So now it was their way of protecting whatever essence was left of you.

Feeling dejected and guilty he went and locked himself inside his old attic. He rested his against the bars that locked him in. Isn't this where he first met you, MC? Sigh. You'd been nothing but kind to him so why did he-

"Belphie.." Then he heard it. For the first time in forever, he heard your voice again. Soft and kind - just like before. He looked up and through the bars, he saw the most familiar sight. You smiling at him through the bars, your fingers wrapped around yours. And just like that he broke down. He started howling in pain, as he tried to reach you, but his fingers slipped right through you. "I'm sorry I'm sorry come back please come back!" He cried as you disappeared into thin air again.

My Masterlist .

[lilith-of-rivia]

The Bards Sister  Geralt XFemale!Reader Part 1

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3

Masterlist 

Summary: Geralt of Rivia and his long time travel companion Jaskier find themselves in Jaskiers home land. A place geralt had not only never seen nor heard of. Jaskier is ready to reunite its his family after traveling and exploring the world for 20 years. The one person he missed the most was his baby sister (Y/N). Who he hadnt seen since she was 5. The journal is long, but the pay off is grander then they would ever be able to predict. I know i am trash at summaries.

Trigger warnings: NONE a lot of Geralt and Jaskier in this first part. Your charicter doesn’t come in till closer to the end.

Pairings: GeraltxReader JaskierxSister!reader

Word count: 6,095 longest fanfic I’ve ever written!!

A/N: hello my loves!!! I got my Insperation back!! I’m hopping i will be regularly posting agin!!! I ove you all so much you consistent love and supoort has not gone unnoticed. The constant likes and reblogs truly means the world to me. I love every single one of you so much. Thank you for believing in my writing the way you do. All my love -Lilith ps. I have reviewed and edited but I will be doing a more in-depth review soon!

“Where are we going, Jaskier.” The Witcher’s brooding voice echoed threw the flowered valley. His horse trotted not far behind his companion. Jaskier looked back at him and just rolled his eyes.

“How many times have you led me on endless roads, towards the middle of nowhere speaking little to no words to me no matter how much I ask?” Geralt said nothing. Jaskier snorted looking back towards the road.

“Exactly. No shut up, your brooding is giving me a headache.” The bard was giving the witcher a taste of his own medicine. The idea that Jaskier was leading him to somewhere he had no idea of the location, made him uneasy. Did he trust his bard? Absolutely without a doubt. Would he ever admit it to him? No never.

Their travels continued till the sun was barely hanging in the sky. The air had grown crisp replacing the harsh burning of the full summer sun. Jaskier pulled his mare to the side of the road, climbing off her, tying her to a tree. Geralt followed, realizing they were stopping for the day.

“We still have a couple hours of daylight left.” Geralt said as he took Roach’s saddle and tack off.

“We don't need a couple hours, we are nearly there. Maybe an hour and half.” Geralt cocked an eyebrow at Jaskier.

“Then why did we stop?” Jaskier pulled his saddle bags off his horse, putting them beside a log as he gathered some sticks for the fire.

“Because I have to debrief you as to who we are going to see and you must bathe before we do so. The stream here will do the trick.”

“Gods Jaskier, will you just tell me where we are going? The secrecy is bullshit.” The broot of a man was losing his patience with his friend.

The duo had been on the trip for nearly two weeks. They left Tramieria and headed east. Much further east than Geralt could ever remember traveling. Yet the bard seemed to know exactly what turns to take and when. The closer they drew to their destination the more the witcher could hear his heart beat faster.

“Jaskier if this is some stupid plot for me to protect you from some man who’s wife you slept with again-“

“It's not Geralt-“ Jaskier pinched the bridge of his nose, his stress causing a minor headache. “Just go bathe then I’ll tell you everything.” Geralt studied his friend, his eyes searching his face, his ears tuning into his heart beat trying his best to figure out what he was getting himself into.

With a low grunt the witcher grabbed his last set of clean clothes and the bar of soap from the bard's hand before stomping off to the river.

“Clean EVERYTHING!” Jaskier yelled over his shoulder. Only getting an unfriendly finger in return.

Nearly an hour later, the sun was completely hidden behind the canyon, the glow of the fire Jaskier started illuminating their small camp. Jaskier’s fingers strummed mindlessly at his lute, his eyes fixed on the stars that were making their presence known more, humming to himself softly. He heard his friends footsteps as he approached, his hair was wet at his shoulders. A fresh white Cotton tunic hugged his muscular build, black trousers hugging his legs. He smiled nice for once. All thanks to the lavender and honey soap Jaskier had received as a gift.

“Now don't you look better.” Jaskier said with a chuckle. The witcher sat down across the fire from him, his golden eyes staring heavily at the bard.

“Spill your guts Jaskier.” Jaskier rubbed his hands over his face and nodded. His eyes looking anywhere but at his friend.

“I haven't been completely forward about my family life.” Jaskier’s eyes landed on the moon above them. It was nearly full, he was doing well with time. He knew they would reach their destination well before the next full moon.

“Jaskier.” Geralt’s harsh voice broke the silence. With a loud sigh Jaskier finally looked his friend in the face.

“I’m royalty Geralt.” The Witcher’s expression did not change. He just looked at his friend. He could hear Jaskier's heart beat become uneven and unsteady. At first he thought it was a joke but the nervous energy radiating from his long time friend made him think better.

“My family, they are wonderful people. My mother, bless her, taught me everything I needed to know about writing and music. Convinced my father to let me train at Oxenfurt Academy. My father is a noble and loyal king. He served our people well. Still does to my knowledge. I haven't been back in nearly 20 years…” the bard trailed off, his eyes fixated on his hands, his fingers twildilling with a ring he had on. The ring was that of his family. Their crest engraved into the gold.

“I was never meant to be a noble. I lived for adventure, for more than just sitting on a throne and watching people come and go. I was never fit to be king. My parents knew that. They understood. Understanding people they are.” His voice trailed off again, hopping his friend would say something. Ask a question. Anything. He didn’t know where to go next.

“Why didn't you ever tell me?” Geralt finally asked.

“Because it never came up. My family never needed me. I never needed them. I love them all dearly of course. But we were never the closest people in the world. Well, my sister and I were.” That caught the Witcher’s attention. His eyes narrow slightly, he made sure to not let his expression scare the bard into not telling him more. He was genuinely curious about his family. But he couldn't lie and say he wasn't disappointed that in the 7 years they traveled together he never heard of them.

“You have a sister?” The bard's eyes lit up. His memory raced with images of his tun little sister chasing him around the courtyard screaming, yelling his name. Her giggles and laughs pulling at his heart strings.

“Yes. Her name is (Y/N). She is about to be 25. Big age for a princess. I havnt seen her since she was very little.” His heart started to break softly. His neglect to his baby sitter weighting heavily on him.

“I write her often, as much as I can. She was...well, a surprise to my parents to say the least. I was 15 when she was born. I left home at 20. I was only around for her toddler years. I never got to see her grow, blossom into a young woman. I missed so much.” Jaskier had to fight back the tears, his throat becoming tight and dry. His body filling with regret.

“I just kept pushing it back Geralt. I alwasy said I’d make it home. I alwasy had it in the back of my mind to go back and see her. But I never did.”

“Why now?” Geralt asked.

“She wrote me a few months back. It was nearly a book. It was filled with tales of her new travels around our country. She had been training heavily with an unmanned matester of combat. She traveled the countryside with the man. She referred to him as an uncle. In the letter she asked me if it was true that I’d been traveling with you. She said the songs and tales of Jaskier the Bard traveling with the White Wolf made it to her ears.” Jaskier stopped talking for a brief moment, rummaged around his rut sack and pulled out a notebook. He untied its string and a large pile of papers fell out into his hand. He unfolded the parchment and scanned the writing.

“I wrote her back that week. Only to receive this in return.” He began to read;

“Oh dear Jaskier!! I cannot believe its true. I thought he was only a legend. The white wolf. Please tell him he is a hero here. We love his stories. Many have written books of him. Children run round calling themselves the butcher of Blaviken here to save the damsel and distress. I love his stories, mainly because they involve you. Please come visit me this year. I miss you terribly. I want to hear of your travels with the wolf. Mother said he is more than welcome to stay if he wishes to travel with you. I do miss you Jaskier. More than I think you know. I do not mean to guilt you or make you feel bad as i know you are traveling the world to your heart's content and would never want you to feel as though I do not support you-“ Jaskier stopped reading for a brief moment. A small tear dripped onto the page he was reading. Geralt listened to every word he read. He couldn't help the small tug of his lips when he read about the children pretending to be him. It was a breath of fresh air for the witcher. He had constantly been told he was a monster. To hid your children from him. Yet here was an entire country that loved him, yet he had no idea. Jaskier cleared his throat and continued. “But i miss my brother. And maybe, just maybe. I could come with you. If you deem me fit. I have been working tirelessly with a friend of fathers. He trains me in not only swordsmanship, but Herbology, and monsters as well. I can name nearly every monster that has inhabited the Continent and how to slay it. He thinks I’m ready to leave the nest and I think mother and father are getting a bit tired of me as well. I cannot stand another somber, dull, dinner party with nobles who look at me like a piece of meat. So please. Visit me soon. Come and stay a few days. Catch up with your dear sister and maybe, if he isn't too busy and if it doesn’t inconvenience him, bring the Wolf with you. He’d be a welcomed hero. All my love dear brother. Xoxo Love always, (Y/N) Irene Pankratz

Jaskier folded the letter, placing it inside his notebook before safely storing it inside his sack again. He ran a hand over his face, his eyes slowly moving from his hands to his best friend. They sat in the silence for a while. Geralt’s brain replaying the words he had heard from his friend.

“You could have told me about her Jaskier. Why didn't you? You’ve been in contact with her all this time, planning to see her and your family again. Bringing me along for the ride, yet not a single word in 7 years. Do you not trust me with such a secret Jaskier?” Jaskier was taken aback by his friend's words.

He never knew his secrecy would have such an impact on his friend. When it came to Geralt he learned long ago, the little words, the better. The witcher can only handle so much before he loses interest and stops listening or walks away. He never in a million years would have thought he cared about his life that much. It warmed the bards heart to know his dear friend, the only brother he ever had, cared that deeply for him.

“It has nothing to do with not trusting you Geralt. Is has everything to do with the shame I hold for not seeing her sooner. For treating her like a dirty secret form the world. There is no logical reason for me to keep my family such a big secret. Yet I have. For 20 years.” Geralt’s hands rubbed together softly as he listened to his friend. He understood the secrecy. He was a box full of secrets that nobody could get into.

“Its okay Jaskier. I understand the secrecy. Is that where we are going tomorrow?” Jaskier nodded, a smile appearing on his face.

“Her birthday is the next full moon. I’m hoping my gift will be a good start in time lost.” Geralt looked at him curiously. He hadn't noticed any major item in Jaskier’s possession that could make a good gift for a young princess.

“You’re her gift Geralt. I wrote her back after that letter and told her I’d be back for her next birthday. But that you simply were to busy with your work. I told her that you greatly appreciated her support and that youd consider writing to her in the future. She has no idea your coming with me.” Geralt didnt know how he felt about being a gift. He never ever saw himself as a gift to anyone. More of a burden the a gift. He shook his head at Jaskier and tutted at him.

“Jaskier if your that broke you could’ve asked me for a few extra coins for a real gift.” The witcher attempted to joke with the bard. It made Jaskier smile more. Geralt could be funny, but his humor was incredibly dry, much like Jaskier’s father.

“Geralt! Did you just try and joke around with me??” Geralt rolled his eyes, laying down stretching his muscles as he looked up at the starts.

“Best get some sleep Jaskier, you’ve got a rather big family reunion tomorrow.”

The next morning Jaskier was up and awake before Geralt, a rare sight. He truly hadn't slept more than a couple hours that night. His nerves kept him awake. He feared his sister wouldn’t be as loving as he pictured, she had every right to be mad at him, hate him even. By the time Geralt was up, Jaskier had bathed, changed and had his horse completely ready to go.

Geralt had to do everything in his power to not laugh at his friend. He looked rather ridiculous. His normal bright attire was replaced with a royals outfit. A green and blue velvet tunic and some extremely uncomfortable looking black trousers. His hair was combed back and his face was freshly washed. He even cleaned under his fingernails. He looked rather ridiculous in Geralt’s opinion. He couldn't help the low chuckle that left his lips as he put his bed roll away.

“I don't understand why you're laughing. I have some clothes for you to put on as well.” Geralt’s expression changed instantly, from humorous to angry.

“No. Absolutely not. What I’m wearing is perfectly fine. I’d wear it to meet any king or queen.” A bag was chucked at him, he barely caught it before it smacked into his face.

“This isn't any normal king and queen Geralt. This is my family. And besides, you are no ordinary witcher in my kingdom, you’ll be treated as royalty there. You may as well look the part.” Geralt huffed and threw the bag of clothes back at his friends feet, glaring daggers at him. He hated dressing up with a burning passion. Everything was too tight, not easy to fight in. If anything happened he’d have to rip the seams on every piece of clothing to be able to maneuver his weapons properly. And fancy clothes dont have space for weapons. He didn't like that one bit. Jaskier looked at his friend. His eyes pleading with him.

“Please Geralt. Just for today and her birthday. I couldn't care less what you wear at any other point on this trip.” He had walked closer to Geralt now. About a meter away from him. He extended his hand, the bag in his hand. Geralt looked from the bag to his friend. His teeth and jaw clenched.

He let out a loud huff and grabbed the bag from the bard.

“Fine.” He said through gritted teeth and began taking off his clothing. Jaskier smiled before turning his attention to Roach, getting her stalled and tacked so when Geralt was dressed they could leave.

“If we move with a bit of a haste we could make it there before breakfast.” Jaskier said as he mounted his horse, looking at his friend. His hand slapped over his face. The witcher looked utterly ridiculous in his new attire. The bright red and orange vest a-top a cream tunic, his legs tight in some disgustingly ugly corduroy pants. The pants were obviously smaller than the seamstress he bought them off claimed them to be. The ends of the pants came nearly mid calf on Geralt’s legs. His pasty white ankles and feet shining in the early morning sun.

“Jesus Geralt. Those are worse than the ones I got for Pavetta’s party.” The bard could no longer hold in his laughter. Did Gerarlt look like a nobleman? Sure, but his size, white hair, and bright yellow eyes really didn't help the situation.

“Jaskier, I will kill you for this.” Geralt grumbled angered as he pulled his socks up his feet and over his calves. Luckily for him (and Jaskier) his boots went higher than his pants, making it harder to notice that the pants he was wearing were way too small.

“At least I’m not making you wear a big hat with a feather, those are truly hideous.” Geralt mounted Roach, more carefully then he normally does in fear his pants could bust at the seams.

“I had to wrap you up nice and pretty to present you to my sister.” Jaskier commented as he led his horse; Napoleon to the main road, Geralt and Roach in tow.

The two men rode in a comfortable silence for some time, but as they got closer and closer to Jaskier’s home, all Geralt could hear was his frantic heartbeat. Jaskier’s palms get sweaty and his throat dry, no matter how much water he drinks from his water skin.

“Jaskier. You need to calm down. Your fucking heart beat is driving me insane.” Geralt hissed. They could see the end of the valley they had been traveling in. Geralt looked out in the distance, his eyes saw the castle first. It was very far, but he could tell how beautiful it was from where they were.

“Maybe you just shouldn’t listen to it then.” Jaskier barked back.

“You know I have no control over it, idiot. Take a deep breath. I know you're scared, I understand. But from the sounds of it your sister desperately misses you, I don't think she would ask you to come see her if she was going to hate you.” Geralt didn't talk much at all, that everyone knew. He was a man of few words. But when he did speak it was wiser than most people ever expected. People tended to forget the age of the white haired man, as he stopped ageing physically in his late twenties.

Jaskier smiled softly at his friend's words, he listened to him and took a few deep breaths, calling himself down. Geralt was right. His sister seemed eager as ever to see him again.

The two men approached the entrance to the city. Geralt was more than shocked. He wasn't sure if he had ever seen a city so beautiful in his entire life. The streets were lined in beautiful stone, flowers, vines, greenery all around every corner. The banners that were hanging on the outside of the main gates caught Geralt’s eyes. The crests on them were brightly colored in greens and blues, a very large diamond in the center. Their horses rode into the entrance of the town. Jaskier’s heart was calm, steady, his face was bright and had a smile Geralt had never seen on him before. He was finally home.

“Welcome to Inritha (In-Rithe-A) the capital of Unthya (Un-The-A) Geralt. Welcome to my home.”

Their horses traveled down the stone brick road slowly, the city was buzzing already even with it being the early hours of the morning. Geralt was surprised to see everyone look so...happy, care free. Enjoying their lives. They looked as though nothing was a fret, no monster looming. Geralt was mesmerized by the city. The buildings were built out of what looked to him like limestone, a building material he so rarely saw in other parts of the Continent. The buildings were being taken over by vines and moss, flowers all over. He’d never seen so many butterflies in his life.

“Jaskier-'' his voice was barely a whisper, the bard turning to look at him as they rode side by side. Jaskier couldn't help but smile as his friend admired the beauty he himself had so easily forgotten over the years.

“I know, it's beautiful. I've forgotten myself.”

The two men continued riding their horses up the road closer and closer to the castle. The longer they road tho more attention they got from passer buys. Geralt could hear their whispers.

It couldn't be. Could it?

THE Geralt of Rivia? Here in Inritha?

Mummy look! It's the butcher!!

Has Prince Jaskier finally returned home?

For the first time in what seemed like his entire life, the hushed whispers Geralt heard as he rode through a city were not of hate and disgust. But of admiration and curiosity. The entire time Geralt and Jaskier rode through the city, he never once had the urge to grab either of his swords that were at his side.

The two men approached the gates of the castle, four armored guards stood outside. The put their hand up in motion for the men to stop. One who looked as tho to be the commander of sorts stepped forward poking between both men. Eyes lingering for a long while on the two.

“State your name and what business you have in Inritha at this early hour.” Jaskier dismounted his horse, waking a few feet forward.

“My name is Jaskier Alfred Pankratz son of Dastrill and Alvere Pankratz. This is my companion Geralt Of Rivia, we are here on behalf of my sister, (Y/N) Irene Pankratz’s 25th birthday.” Jaskier bowed his head lowly, keeping eye contact with the commander in front of him.

“Prince Jaskier?!?” The man clearly looked flustered and embarrassed for not recognizing the prince of his own kingdom. All four men quickly bowed their heads.

“Please accept my apology your highness, we welcome you home. As do we welcome your honored guest.” Jaskier smiled and told the men to not trouble themselves with an apology. Geralt continued to watch from atop Roach, still not use to being idolized instead of feared. Honored guest. Geralt thought to himself. He could get use to the new treatment. Jaskier remounted Napoleon the gates to the castle walls opening. The both road threw, all four men bowed their heads as the two walked threw. Not once did they threaten Geralt’s life. They were led by a guard to the stables where they left their horses.

Geralt could hear Jaskier heart beating again in his chest as they were led inside the castle. Geralt tried to concentrate on his friend, to be there for him but he couldn't help but let his eyes wander all over the castle's walls, it was a bright exterior. The walls polished, candles everywhere. Large windows allowing for natural lighting. Nothing dark or gloomy about the castle at all. He felt uplifted..cheary almost. As they neared the entrance to the grand hall where the King, Queen, Princess along with some others were. Geralt could hear the light conversation, and the clicking of silver on plates, they were eating breakfast. But he could still hear Jaskier’s heart beating in his chest. Geralt placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder as they walked, giving it a soft squeeze. The action made Jaskier more worried if the witcher was feeling alright, as it was abnormally out of character for the man. But he said nothing, appreciating the gesture.

They got to the door and just as the guard was about to push the doors open Jaskier grabbed his arm.

“Could we maybe skip the loud over dramatic announcements of my arrival? I have not seen my family in years.” The guard only nodded, bowed his head and walked back outside to his post. Jaskier looked over at his friend, as he put his hand on the door ready to push it open.

“Now or never.” Jaskier said as he opened the door. Both men walked into the large room, the talking stopped almost instantly. Geralt stood at the door, not wanting to impose on the important reunion of his friend and his family. He followed Jaskiers gaze to the table ahead of them in the front of the room. The room was lined with huge floor to ceiling windows, the light of the early morning sun shone brightly making the marble floors glisten.

“JASKIER!!!” The loud scream of a girl nearly made Geralt jump out of his skin, his hand reaching back for a sword that wasn't there in instinct.

It made Jaskier jump but the smile that covered his face was even bigger than the one he had seen as he walked through the city. Geralt followed Jaskier’s gaze to a young woman. The sight of her alone made Geralt want to pass out. He wasn't sure if he had ever seen someone so beautiful in his entire life. Her hair was the same chestnut brown that Jaskier had, but it was long, hip length. She had it pulled back slightly out of her face, a few baby hairs framed her face. Oh her face. Geralt thought as though he was looking at a living breathing angel. He heard her chair scrape roughly on the ground before it loudly crashed on the floor. She raced around the long table from her mothers side and sprinted to her brother. She practically threw herself on him. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. He quickly wrapped his arms around her, stumbling back a few steps. Everything was quite as the two embraced. Geralt's eyes went to the king and queen who were now standing. The queen looked just like (Y/N) but her hair was black, long stripes of grey peeking through her hair. The crown atop her head glistened in the light. Her right hand was tightly around her husband's arm, her other hand placed softly over her mouth as she looked at her children. Her husband looked much like Jaskier. His hair was the same color as both of their children, but much like his wife’s, much of it had turned grey. His eyes were the same cornflower blue that Jaskier had.

Minutes passed in silence before Jaskier put his hands on his sisters shoulders, pulling her away from him. He put one hand on her cheek as he examined her features. Her pale cheeks were damp with tears. But not sad tears. Tears of joy.

“My sister, how you’ve grown.” Geralt could hear the tears in the bard's voice. He couldn't see him but he could hear everything.

(Y/N) fingers gently brushed over her brother’s face as she smiled at him.

“My brother, how you haven't aged a day. You look just as I remember you. Maybe a few more wrinkles.” She teased. He laughed softly. Wiping his eyes with his hand before pulling her into another bone crushing embrace. She was much shorter than Jaskier, barely shoulder level with him. Geralt was shocked to remember she would be turning 25 in two days. She was still young in the face, beautiful. He wanted nothing more than to see her more up close.

While the siblings spoke their parents moved from the spots at the table, standing behind (Y/N). Alvere was the first to pull him into a tight embrace after her daughter let go. Her fingers gently combed through his hair as she inhaled his scent deeply.

“My dear son how I've missed you.” She whispers slowly into his ear. Geralt was starting to feel bad for eavesdropping. Not that he could help it. He was still standing at the entrance to the grand hall yet he could hear everything.

Jaskiers father hugged him next, it was not nearly as long as the outer two but both men were okay with it. Understanding that their relationship had never been one for long father son hugs.

“It is good to see you again my boy.” His hand clasped down on his son's shoulder.

The four of them stood close together, smiling more than Geralt ever thought possible. It almost made his heart turn. Deep, deep, deep, down the witcher longed for a family that would look at him the way they looked at Jaskier. He often cured the universe for not giving him an option when it came to what he had become. He clung to the few memories he had of his mother. But as years passed they became harder and harder to remember, more painful. But he had. Made a new sort of family over the years. From Jaskier, to his brothers at Kaer Morhen.

“(Y/N), mum, dad, there is someone I’d like you to meet.” Jaskier turned his head towards the door to the hall. Geralt stood tall, shoulders pressed back, his hair framed his face gracefully. Even in the entirely ugly attire he was in, he made himself as presentable and as proper as possible. (Y/N)’s eyes grew bigger when her eyes met his. He once again was taken aback by her beauty. Her eyes were a powerful emerald green matching similarly to the color of her brother's tunic, but brighter. Her mouth fell slightly agape when she realized who it was. The eyes were a dead give away that he was in fact a witcher, but once she saw the silver medallion that rested on his chest, she knew.

Jaskier nodded his head for Geralt to walk forward and he did, his footsteps were light, his pace slow and steady as he walked closer to the royal family. (Y/N)’s hand gently covered her mouth in excitement. Her eyes flickering to her brother who grinned at her.

“A bit of an early birthday gift.” He winked. Once Geralt was closer to the group Jaskier turned so he could introduce them, at his sister's side. All eyes were on him. Even the few people who were still seated at the table were looking at him. He started to feel a bit more uneasy. He started to remember how far away his swords were if he needed them. This alone was beginning to make him panic. He was not used to being welcomed into royal courts unless it was specifically for a hunt.

“This is Geralt of Rivia, one of the most feared, renowned, and skilled Witcher’s the content has to offer. And also my best friend.”

Geralt's eyes were back on (Y/N)’s, his worries dropped more when she smiled brightly at him. Her eyes gleamed.

Geralt bowed his head to the three of them, “ it is an absolute pleasure to meet you, your highnesses.” (Y/N) was nearly blown over by the sultry sound of his voice. She had only heard stories of the witcher. Never see him for herself and definitely had never heard him speak. She never expected a monster hunter to be as handsome as he was. She admired every feature he had. Her eyes fixating on his chiseled jawline, the light gray stubble across his chin and cheeks.

“My, what a pleasure it is to meet such a famed warrior as yourself Geralt!” The king spoke before (Y/N) could, which she was happy about as she did not trust her voice to not waver at his beauty in that moment.

“You my dear are very popular around here. Your stories are legendary. The school children even host yearly plays, Reenacting your most beloved stories.” (Y/N)’s mother added her finger pointing light hardly at Geralt. Her hand came out gracefully from her side to shake the Witcher’s hand. He gently took it, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. His attention returned to (Y/N).

“I’m terribly sorry I’m the birthday gift from your brother this year.” She shook her head almost as soon as the words left his mouth.

“Do not be sorry Geralt-'' the way she said his name made him feel as though he could keel over. “I would like to thank you, for protecting my brother for the years you have. He never skips on his gratitude for you in his letter to me. For that we are all eternally grateful for you.” She reached her hand out. Geralt wasted no time in grabbing her hand, shaking it gently. He was dying inside, but he couldn't let her or anyone else see. He took a gentle step towards her, his head lowering softly, his soft lips were placed on the back of her small hand. The small action made the young girls' faces burn red. Her eyes flicked to her brother who smugly smiled, knowing danm well his gift was going to take the cake.

“Well, you both should come join us, we just started eating.” The king said with a smile, with a quick wave of his hand two more places we set.

(Y/N) gently removed her hand from Geralt’s. Walking towards the table, both men in tow. As she reached her spot she moved her plate and glass to the middle seat that had been prepared, leaving Jaskier a seat next to their mother and Geralt a seat next to her. They all sat and waited as food was served to them. (Y/N) could feel Geralt watching her as she ate, her brother deep in conversation with her parents about his most recent travels. But she wasnt listening. Her attention was only on the man seated to her left. She looked over at the man, eyed him up and down then turned to her brother. For the first time she noticed how ugly their attire was.

“Gods Jaskier who dressed you two?” She asked as she sipped her orange juice. Both men looked at her. Jaskier looked a bit hurt and Geralt only snorted.

“I told him the clothes were horrendous.” Geralt said beside the young woman making her giggle. The sound made his heart beat faster. This was also when he realized how sensibly everyone else in the room was dressed, and how much they stood out. (Y/N) was in a thin white cotton dress, it was around knee length and a light sweater was on her shoulders. Her mother and father dressed similarly. Their clothes looking normal, comfortable.

“Oh my dear brother. What have you done to the poor witcher.” She laughed, turning her attention to him. She could see how uncomfortable the clothes made him. The vest was way too tight and he was practically bursting out of his pants, not that she minded, she gladly enjoyed the view.

“He is torturing me. That's what.” Geralt scoffed and she couldn't help but giggle again.

“You're so dramatic Geralt it's truly not that bad.” Her head flicked to her brother.

“Jaskier don't be rude.” She tutted him like a mother, it made Geralt snort under his breath as he took a bite of his eggs. She stood and walked behind him. He was stiff at her movements.

“Do you mind?” Her fingers were on the strings of the vest. He shook his head no and she quickly untied the tight strings, and it fell from his shoulders. She took it off and handed it to one of the maids

“You can burn that horridly ugly thing.” She said as she sat back down.

“I do not remember you being so rude, little sister.” Jaskier quipped.

“What I think is rude is how you made sure you got the more presentable clothing and dressed your poor friend in those horrendous colors. Have you seen his pants, Jaskier?? It's a miracle he can still breath.” Her eyes looked towards the witcher who was already looking at her with a cocky smirk on his face, glad she was putting Jaskier in his place for the ugly outfit choice.

“I can take you to the seamstress later today, if you’d like Geralt.” Her smile was like a drug.

“I’d appreciate that m'lady.” He said softly.

“And I can show you around the city, both of you. But in return I would like to hear some of your stories, first hand if that’s doable.”

“That sounds like a reasonable trade.” Geralt quipped back.

“Then it's a date, Witcher.”

“A date it is.”

[solomonish]

he comes with a warning sign (satan & his brothers)

One of these things is not like the other...the one born as soon as the others fell, the one made entirely of feelings they'd all rather forget.

ao3 link: here!

Satan started his life crashing into the ground, the impact creating a crater that is now considered a piece of Devildom history.

His first memory was the gut-wrenching jolt of falling through the air, watching as a man he didn’t know let out his anguish in a mess of feathers, blood, and tears Satan vaguely felt he wasn’t supposed to see. The next was of his collision, a bone-shattering hit that, somehow, only sent a dull ache through his body. Black feathers floated down around him, some matted with blood falling faster than the others, soft like the ones inexplicably around his neck in a boa. Around him, he could hear quiet moans of pain and the occasional sob, a cacophony that both grated in his ears but fit the turmoil that threatened to spill out from within him. Those first moments were nothing but hatred, an acidic burn within him so strong it felt like all he’d ever know.

Emotion didn’t come easy to him. For the longest time, he felt like an animal, some form of furious energy trapped in a cage of demonic armor that wouldn’t give no matter how often he lashed out. Occasionally, he’d manage to reach his arm between the bars and swipe at whoever made the mistake of getting close, attempting to ease him into the familial life that was expected of him. Who were these people? Why did they think they could expect him to care about them? It didn’t matter to him that they were shrinking from him, undoubtedly fighting behind closed doors about who’s turn it was to see him. In a way, it made him feel better. They should feel as angry as he did.

Even after he calmed down - convinced himself to put on a show of obedience for the right to stretch his legs and not have to wonder if the others forced the orange-haired one named Beelzebub to send his dinner (meaning he’d get none at all) - he was still aloof, uninterested in what the others thought about spot in their family. Eventually, he’d learn: learn of what they used to be, what they did to fall from that place, and of the person they lost. For the first time, he cared about the misfitting sensation inside of him. After all, he’d very much rather feel like an intrusion than a replacement.

The knowledge of what happened introduced that new emotion to him, a sort of sympathetically charged guilt that he, hah, hated. The others were in no state to teach him how to be a person. Their means of teaching him to be something other than a feral beast were certainly some sort of violation of his personal rights. So, instead, he took to reading, desperate to find answers to questions he didn’t yet know how to ask. Through the many novellas and epics, the treatises and research journals, entire libraries worth of fiction and nonfiction, Satan began to piece himself together. He taught himself how to craft a facade of sympathy and understanding, how to mask the anger that constantly boiled inside of him, and tuned himself to his emotions lest he fall back into the vat he always hovered just above. Cats and books calmed him down. Black feathers and Lucifer made him lose his grip.

Perhaps it was because, if he reached back as far as his memory went, the only thing he saw when his entire body burned with pure wrath was Lucifer himself and a tornado of feathers. Maybe it was because Lucifer seemed to watch him and regard him as a miniature version of himself, then promptly remind Satan that he would always be a step beneath his legacy. All Satan knew was, on the days Mammon would call on his crows to complete a scheme and the yard was littered with their feathers, his mood soured in the same way it was when Lucifer even made his presence known.

Every day, Satan had to wrestle with emotions the meanings of which he had to discern for himself, emotions that never should have been his in the first place. The war that raged inside his very core was only the product of a failure, a symbolic continuation of what robbed his “brothers” of someone he would never meet. There was no way he and this Lilith could exist at the same time, and Satan often wondered how readily the others would trade him for a chance to have her back.

Satan did not waste time wallowing in self-pity. However, despite his practiced control, he could not stop the frown that always formed when someone spoke of his origins. He was the product of Lucifer’s wrath and grief, a part of Lucifer that he tried so desperately to claw out of himself he disfigured himself in the process. Lucifer was once the most brilliant angel, the morningstar himself. Satan was the worst part of him, an embodiment of that which he could never want, not in his grace as an angel or his degeneracy as a demon.

If any of his brothers caught on to this pattern of thinking, they never breached the topic. Perhaps they agreed. Satan wasn’t sure he’d want to know if they did.

His withdrawal from the others was only natural. His violence in the beginning effectively conditioned them to stay away, and he could only imagine the things they associated him with in their grief. As they all did their best to move on, letting their broken bones fuse crooked, Satan gave up on his hope of ever fitting in. He was the youngest, yet the fourth most powerful - the one in the middle, splitting up the older and younger siblings and somehow not quite meshing with either group. When Diavolo commented on the everlasting love of brothers, Satan smiled and nodded. If he could put on an act of being a composed individual, he could put on an act of being a true member of their family. With how absorbed they were in themselves, it was rare the topic ever came up.

The only one who seemed to care was Lucifer. Even then, he only seemed to want to be his brothers’ keeper, if only for the disciplinary privileges it gave him. When Satan stepped out of line - which seemed to be always- Lucifer was quick to remind him that, oh, perhaps they weren’t brothers. Something churned in his gut, nothing like the bile he pretended rose up at the thought of being Lucifer’s son. As Satan simmered in his fury, silently planning something to get back at Lucifer, he wondered if they truly did find pleasure in reminding him how much he didn’t belong.

Logic said that only Lucifer knew to plan psychological torture that way, but Satan was under no obligation to forgive the behavior of the others on the ground of ignorance.

So, as was only natural, Satan came with a warning sign. He was the one to be wary of, a ball of uncontrollable rage disguised as one of them. His smiles were all surface-level and fake, hiding his true, devious intentions. Be careful around him - better yet, don’t associate yourself with him more than you have to.

After all, he had been pushed away from the beginning, a volatile bundle of emotions that Lucifer couldn’t - didn’t want to - deal with. There was no place for him anywhere when he had been tossed aside like trash from the start.

[migilini]

Chosen Family - Sunset Curve

summary: The boys didn’t show up for school so you and Bobby meet them in the Studio and spend the afternoon with them.

a/n: The JATP Discord Server I’m in gave me this Idea :) Prob gonna wrote more little blurbs about 1995 Sunset Curve.

words: 1.8k

warnings: pure friendship fluff

Requests are open

MASTERLIST

---------------------------------------------

“Are they here?” you asked Bobby who sat next to you in biology, your pent tapping the desk impatiently. He shook his head and took out his notebook “I don't know I haven't seen most of them today.”

“Okay, if they’re not here at lunch, I'll skip for the afternoon and see if they’re still alive,” you grumbled. Bobby let out a loud laugh “You know that it isn't your responsibility?”

“I know but it's our job as friends to care. And this is just my way to do so.” you shrugged your shoulders and flipped through the book to find the right page.

"Sure this has nothing to do with the big test this afternoon?" You gave Bobby an offended look.

“Miss Y/L/N and Mister Wilson would you like to share your conversation with the class?” Miss Kluster scolded, crossing her arms over her blue blouse, a thigh frown on her red lips as she looked at the teenagers angrily.

“No Miss.,” the friends said simultaneously.

“Good. Then be quiet now. The class has started.”

You and Bobby looked at each other with a smirk, you rolled your eyes slightly while he scrunched his nose.

++

You let your tray fall on the table, making the only other person sitting and the food on it jump. “Woah! Why so aggressive? Guessing Alex wasn't in English?”

"Nope." You shook your head and popped the p with slight annoyance. “Did you have more luck?” Bobby shook his head. You sighed and packed your lunch into your bag. You looked at him expectantly "You coming with?" He shoved the rest of his sandwich into his mouth and mumbled something that you took as a yes. He clumsily tried to get up while simultaneously packing the rest of his things and nearly fell backwards off the bench.

Getting out of school wasn't hard, especially when you’ve skipped several times and knew where the teachers normally stood to watch, not that you ever skipped school to hang out with your musician friends. You and Bobby sneaked around the teachers' room and took the long way around the gymnasium, only to climb out of the boys' locker room window and then run over the football field to the parking lot where his car stood.

“Let's be honest here, you also wanted me to go because you don't have a car.” Bobby realised once the two of you sat comfortably in his car. In fake pain, you held a hand to your chest. “I would NEVER use you like a free taxi. I normally ask Reggie but he isn't here so…”

Bobby gave your shoulder a light shove before turning the music louder and driving off.

“I heard you crying loud, all the way across town. Cause you been searching for that someone. And it's me out on the prowl” you started to sing along to the Greenday song blaring from the radio station. Scrolling down the window, you held your hand out, embracing the warm summer air. Your hair flying wildly around your face.

You always did something like that, needing the feeling of being free, “I think it's the closest thing to being able to fly.” you always told the boys when they made a side comment.

Bobby drummed along to the song, his fingers tapping the steering wheel with force. When the chorus came, you smiled over at Bobby and turned the volume even higher. At a red stoplight, he lightly turned to you and you both screamed the lyrics at the top of your lungs.

A couple of minutes later, the car slowed down about a couple of houses down the street from the studio. The two of you got out and walked closer, trying hard to blend in. “I swear to god if Miss Lilith snitches on us again…”

“She’s on vacation I think.” Bobby interrupted your sentence about his nosy neighbour that always seemed to know when you should've been in school. Still, you didn't want to take any chances and ducked behind bushes before you were in the safe space in front of the studio.

“It’s quiet,” Bobby muttered to you, his ear pressed to the wood door. “What if they starved to death?” you whispered to him, now your ear pressed against the door as well.

“Or they’re still asleep?”

“It’s a bit late, even for them.”

“Maybe they went home?” you shot Bobby a troubled glance.

“Or we just went on a walk.” a voice suddenly said, behind you two, making you and Bobby clutch to each other with a scream.

“Jesus Christ! Guys do you want us to die?” you scolded the three grinning boys in front of you.

“I missed you guys too!” Reggie embraced you and Bobby in a bone-crushing hug, whilst the others walked back into the studio.

Luke plopped down on his couch, your school bag already in his hands. “What do we have in here?” he questioned out loud and rummaged through the food you brought with you. He took out a yoghurt and threw it into Alex’s direction who caught it with ease, then he threw Reggie an apple and a chocolate bar and for him, he took out half of the sandwich from your lunch. The other half he held out in your direction.

“Oh no thank you, Luke. I’m good.” you tried to wave it off “I brought it for you guys.” But his eyes only darkened slightly, his half of the sandwich poking out of his mouth and he waved the sandwich again so you took it with an eye roll.

Whenever you skipped school to hang out with them, the topic of school was forbidden. They knew that you and Bobby only wanted the best for them, a healthy home life, an education, a change other than music to move out and you knew that it was very hard to basically live on the streets and have missing signs all over the city or parents that always fight or won't accept you for who you really are. So the topic never came up and every time you told yourself that you would bring it up next time, that you had to discuss this and every time you didn't.

The group sat quietly in a circle, some on chairs and couches but most chose to sit on the ground. Your head rested on Alex’ stomach, his hands playing with your hair. Meanwhile, Bobby was half asleep on the couch, Reggie played random chords on his bass and Luke was rapidly writing down stuff in his notebook.

“Y/N?” Reggie's voice shattered the quiet and you were reminded that you were not chilling alone. Lifting your head you looked over at your friend “Yes Reg?”

“Uhm...could you maybe...uhm give me a haircut? I would need money for that and for money I would have to go home and that is something that I don't want to do especially after…” he rambled on. You quickly got up and crouched in front of him, your hands resting on his knees.

“I can try.” you chuckled “Last time I cut Lukes he didn't complain too much so let's try!” you patted his knee assuringly.

So you stood, a couple of minutes later, behind one of your best friends who was currently describing how he wanted his hair. He sat in a chair, an old plastic bag pulled over his head, his arms gesturing wildly how long what should be.

You, on the other hand, tried really hard to listen to his wishes while clutching a bottle with water and a, what you guessed was in fact not a haircut scissor, scissor in the other hand.

You shot Alex a look, silently asking him to memorize the steps as well. “Luke was definitely a simpler client,” you said under your breath but the others still heard.

“I’m sorry I care about my looks!” Reggie exclaimed and crossed his arms childishly. You leaned down to his ear and whispered “That’s why you're the cutest but don't tell the others okay?” that was all it took for him to sit up straight again, a big toothy smile plastered on his freckled face.

With a little frown on your face and the tip of your tongue slightly sticking out, you began to cut Reggie's hair. He wanted it longer on top, but the hair in the back of his head must be a bit shorter than his fringe, the sides had to be short but not so short that you could see his skull and he wanted a fade but not a big fade. The sounds of metal cutting hair filled the room.

“Guys listen to this bridge,” Luke spoke up, maybe a bit too loudly for the others' taste. Bobby grunted from his sleeping position, shot Luke the finger and went back to sleep.

“Luke! That scared me I could’ve cut Reggie's ear off!”

“But did you?” he remarked. As a joke you pulled on both of Reggie's ears lightly “Nope, they still seem pretty attached to his head.”

Luke showed you guys a song he called ‘Bright’ “It’s clearly not done and we still need the rest of the instruments but whatcha think?”

Alex patted Luke’s shoulder “I love it, man!”

“Sounds dope!”

“It’s good. I like it wery musch” you muttered with a comb in your mouth, focused on the boy with hair in front of you.

“And we’re done!” you announced and held your hands away as if you just participated in a bake-off. Reggie jumped up and ran into the small bathroom at the end of the studio. Nervously, you fiddled with the comb in your right hand.

“And? How bad did I mess up?” you asked him hopefully the moment he walked back out.

“You did such a great job!” he said, a grin taking over his face yet again. “Thank you so much.” he gave you a hug.

You both knew that it wasn't perfect, it was shaggy and crooked in some places and the fade was mostly one length instead of a gradient but it looked good, was cheap, added to his rockstar image and most importantly for Reggie, you did it.

“Y/N can you cut my hair too?”

[i-am-a-meat-popcicle]

A bunch of Mordy headcanons because I need this guy to get more love.

Warning: discussion of symptoms of alcohol withdraw. the bad ones.

Mordecai will sometimes ask a question about something on Pandora and he’ll low key get pissed off if someone answers it.

He doesn’t really want to know when he asks, he just wants to be mad about it, and sometimes the answer just pisses him off even more because then he’ll have more questions.

There was a lot of rivalry between him and Roland at first, thanks to them both being the most experienced with firearms. It took awhile for him to acknowledge the former soldier in a leader capacity.

To some degree he thought he was better than the others thanks to him being the oldest, most traveled, and considered himself the best marksman in the history of sharp shooting.

Constantly brings up winning an interplanetary sniper contest when he was younger when he has the chance.

Learned some humility after being knocked on his ass a few times by the others in duels, and some respect when being saved from getting eaten by some giant skag.

Youngest of multiple siblings and considered the runt of the litter. They picked on him a lot as a kid.

His older siblings frequently scared off his romantic partners in an attempt to be nice and tease their youngest brother but inevitably backfired.

Frequently blames others for his failed relationships.

Mordecai drank a lot during the events of borderlands 1 but not nearly as much as he does in borderlands 2.

More of a steady climb into heavy alcoholism. Rakk ale was a bit strong for his taste at first. He took his first venture into trying it when he and the other vault hunters buried TK. After nearly getting killed by the Destroyer he got over it he spent a week in treachers landing stealing booze from the bandits there until something new came along, gradually drinking more and more with every disappointment or loss. Moxxi leaving him for someone else just made the pattern apparent.

I think for him Moxxi was more of a prize to be had than a lover, but he did genuinely care for her.

Unfortunately his ego gets in the way of maintaining romantic/sexual relationships. Once he’s in the relationship he doesn’t really do much to keep it. He’s the sort of person that wants what he can’t have.

Friendships are a little different in that he finds them more engaging than romantic relationships. A friend is someone you can work with, while a romantic partner isn’t.

Blamed himself for Sanctuary’s shield being taken down, and wanted to make up for it by capturing more intel from Hyperion, which is why he wasn’t as careful when he got ambushed. Blames himself for Bloodwing.

Brick re-joining their group helped him a lot because they were able to talk about loss when it came to their pets. 

Mordecai fully expected to die when the time came to fight Jack. Almost wanted it too. He’ll never admit out loud that Brick saving his life meant more to him than a lot of things in his life.

After having Talon for awhile he got to thinking about going sober after having a nightmare about Talon being captured or shot down.

He talked to Hammerlock about it first because he knew the scholar wouldn’t mention anything to anyone else.

He got scared when he learned about some of the symptoms of withdraw, but after another nightmare he decided to go through with it. Whatever he had to go through would be worth not having to suffer the same loss again.

When the hallucinations started everyone got scared.

Mordecai suddenly bolted up from his chair, screaming in Spanish and patting himself off. He was seeing bugs everywhere and about ready to throw something.

Brick had to hold him down while Lilith quickly got Dr Zed. The both of them were wondering if Mordecai had gotten into something new since he quit drinking but were informed that this was one of the symptoms of heavy addiction withdraw.

Mordecai had problems with his symptoms for a long time, and Talon actually did have to be taken care of by Tina and Brick for awhile until Mordecai had some sense of “normalcy”.

He was carefully watched by Zed for a long time.

When he got stable things got a bit more normal.

He got Talon back, which was good since they missed eachother. 

Tina cried when she saw Mordecai again telling him that he wasn’t “allowed” to die.

Brick and Lilith had the same sentiment.

There were times he’d stand outside of Moxxi’s bar for hours. Craving nothing more than to drown himself in booze.

A few times he even went in, but Moxxi would only ever give him water or soda.

He cried on his one year anniversary of being sober.

Side note: I like how it looks like he’s gained weight in borderlands 3 versus the previous games because it can imply that he lives a healthier life with the emotional support of Brick and Tina.

[themaninflannel]

Never be the same (Snapshots pt 4)

Summary: the time leading up to dean being dragged to hell. Y/N and Dean are so in denial about ~certain things~

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: grief disguised as anger, yelling, angst

AN: hey yall its been a WHILE since I wrote anything but I do plan on continuing this series as well as maybe other things

part 1 part 2 part 3

masterlist

I had been traveling with the boys for almost two years when everything changed. Dean sold his soul to save Sam, and he got one year. One freaking year. Don’t get me wrong I understand why he did it and honestly I might have done the same thing, but I am not the kind of person the world will miss. Dean is. He is the kind of man whose death will be felt by more than just the people who knew him. And I was PISSED.

“Dean what the fuck! You sold your soul for ONE FUCKING YEAR?!”

“NO. I did it for Sam. I couldn’t live with him being dead!”

“Did you ever think about the fact that maybe JUST MAYBE we couldn’t live with you being dead?”

“Ha, thats not what i’m worried about,” he turned his back around on me, “im sure you guys will be fine,”

“There you go again! Of course we would be worried! We’re your family, Dean.”

This was the conversation that we kept having with Dean. Eventually we stopped yelling at him for it and started doing our best to make sure he could have the best year possible. He deserved that, whether or not he thought so. This meant a lot of shitty bars and games of pool. And Women.

We were in a roadhouse, the kind where the floor smells like beer and theres only like three people there-including the bartender. Dean saw a sign that said ‘burgers and beer’ and just had to pull over and try it. He had been doing that more and more the closer that we got to the big day.

“Ugh dean come on,” Sam groaned, “i get heart problems just by looking at this place,”

“Oh Sammy! Im sure we can find you some of that rabbit food you like so much,” Dean teased, slapping Sam in the chest as he got out of the car.

“Common, it makes him happy,'' I said shrugged. We got out of the car and followed dean into the bar. He didnt seem to be bothered by the lack of people, instead he just walked straight to the bar. Unfortunately for dean, there was a lack of women in this particular bar and he was stuck with us.

“Beers all around!” dean handed us each a bottle and followed sam over to the pool table.

After about three games and quite a few more drinks, we headed back to the car. I had stayed mostly sober so that dean could drink all he wanted, at some point i had snaked his keys out of his pocket. He never would have given them to me without a fight- even if he had been sober. Sam got him into the back seat and i set off in search of a half decent motel for us to spend the night in.

“A month left. And were no where closer to finding Lilith than we were three months ago,” Sam said when it was clear that Dean was asleep.

“Well get there. Lilith has to be looking for us, so its only a matter of time”

“We should head back to Bobby’s soon and go over all of the books again” sam suggested. We kept talking until i pulled off towards a rest stop with a motel.

I opened the door and Sam plopped dean down on the bed closest to the door.

“Im gonna grab a shower and wash this dive smell off,” i headed towards the bathroom.

I turned on the water as hot as it would go and just stood under it. It was the first time in a few days i had to truly relax, we had back to back hunts for the last week and that meant being constantly alert. Thus, it was no surprise that the first time I had to relax i got hit with a wave of grief and exhaustion. I collapsed on the shower floor and cried, i cried for dean and his deal, I cried for Sam who was about to lose his brother, and i cried for me because i was gonna loose my best friend, the most important person in the world to me. By the time I was able to breath again the water had gone cold.

When I walked out of the bathroom in my PJs Sam had crashed in the other bed, leaving me to crawl in next to Dean. This was how we ended up most nights, me and Dean and then sam either in the next bed or the next room. This was as close to a real partnership as i had ever had, and it wasnt even the real thing. We hadnt slept together after that second time, but i was gonna take everything i could before he was gone.

Deans POV

Everyday is closer to my own personal doomsday. But I already feel like im in hell, seeing Sammy’s face fall everytime he looks at me is hell. Seeing Y/N try to keep me at arms length in the day but crawl under shitty motel covers and hold me at night. I pretend that I let it happen for her, but thats not true. Not that she or Sammy needs to know that. They dont need to know im scared, that would put too much on their shoulders. They dont need that. I can see how much they are trying to put on a good face for me and I would hate if I was the one that ruined that for them.

I can tell its close. I can feel Hell laying its claim on my soul. WI just hope that the last thing I see before I get dragged to hell will be Y/N’s face. I cant burden her with how I feel when im about to die. I just cant see the disgust on her face and then die. So i keep it to myself. We know where Lilith is, its only a matter of time before we go looking for her. Or they go looking for her.

Y/Ns POV

Hes just laying there, the hellhounds tore apart his chest and now hes just laying there. But its not him. Not anymore. Now hes just a shell, his final words frozen on his face. What do we do now? What do I do now? I left behind my life to hunt with him, and Sam, and now hes gone.

Sam is angry. Like burn the world down kill anything that fucks with him angry. And Bobby, Bobby is broken. Like drink the days away broken. I cant help Sam, he wont let me and I dont have it in me to fight with him right now. And maybe I cant help Bobby, but I can at least be there with him and offer a shoulder for when he does let me help.

-----four months later-----

I haven't seen Sam since we burned Deans body, but i've been helping Bobby as best he’ll let me. Most days that meant spending the day following him around with some food trying to get him to consume something that isn't booze and the nights trying to get him to put down the books and go to sleep. And when that inevitably fails I cover him with a blanket and turn the lights off before I crash on the couch.

Its been almost four months since I held Deans lifeless body in my arms. Since I saw the hell hounds tear him apart. Since I realized I would never be the same without him.

[supernatural---imagines]

Girlfriend Part 3:  Just One Night (Dean Imagine)

Series Summary: Sam’s suspicious behaviour has you and Dean curious enough to follow him, to find out he is meeting with a Demon in secret leaves you both in shock. Based on S4 demon blood story line with a darker ending.

Pairings: Dean X Reader, Sam X Ruby, Sam X Reader (platonic)

Chapter Summary: You and Dean have grown closer, but a mysterious call from Sam after 6 months brings an unexpected bump in the road. (Again, you don’t have to have read the other parts of the story to read this, it’s just based off Sam’s s4 demon blood story.)

MASTERLIST 

It had been 6 months since you found out about Sam, Ruby, the blood. You and Dean had became much closer, an “unofficial official couple” you had named it. You slept in the same bed, told each other you loved them, but for the most part it was very on the down low, and not a lot of romance.

The motel door opening grabbed your attention from your phone as you sat on the end of the bed. You had been looking at a text you sent to Sam two weeks ago.

Please call me back Sam. We we’re best friends, and know I barley know you. I am so worried.  

He never responded. That hurt your heart a little.

Dean came busting through the door with a brown paper bag of grocery's in one arm, and a six pack of beer in the other. He had a grin on his face as he entered, and leaned down to kiss your temple on the way past to the kitchen counter. He set everything down and reached into his back pocket.

“Here babe” He spoke to you as he held out a $100 bill. You got up off the bed confused. You took it from him sheepishly.

“What is this for?” You looked at him with furrowed brows.

“We just cleaned up a case yesterday, nothing on the radar, nothing from Bobby. We deserve a stress free night, no monsters. So i’m going to cook something nice, then were going to hit that little bar around the corner.” He guided your body towards his by the sides of your arms. You reached around his neck and pressed your body close, the bill still in your hand.

“While I get it all ready, you’re going to go out and get yourself a sexy little number and get dolled up. I know it’s been a while.” He explained before stealing a kiss.

“You know technically this is our first date.”

“I know. You’ve been so patient with me and with everything that’s been going on with Sam..” His face dropped for a moment when he said his brothers name. He hadn’t seen him since the big confrontation with him and Ruby. He had spoken on the phone once or twice, but Dean couldn’t bare to see him destroying himself with the blood and he made him chose. Sam chose the blood.

“You’re so sweet for doing this.” You gently guided his lips to yours while your fingers ran through his hair. He breathed you in deeply.

“Get out of here” He pecked once more before letting go. You turned around to leave and Dean smacked your ass with an eruption of laughter. You rolled your eyes and smiled as you left the motel room.

You borrowed the impala and drove to the nearest department store and picked out a black body con dress which hugged you in all the right places to accent your curves which you knew would have Dean turn to putty. All he ever saw you in was baggy layers, so anytime you did dress up, even before you got together, he was always left drooling.

You grabbed it from the sale rack along with a new lipstick and mascara. You paid, leaving not a lot of change, and headed back to your boyfriends car. Your phone was laying on the passenger seat and you took a quick glance over at it.

Missed Call: Sam (2)

How did that happen? he hadn’t spoken in months, no longer responded to your texts, but now suddenly there was two missed calls. He must be in real trouble. You started to panic and with shaky hands you called him back. No answer. You tried again, and again. Then you text.

Are you OK? Please answer.

Then you rang once more. Still no answer. You decided it was best to get straight back to the motel and speak to Dean, find out if he had heard anything.

You arrived back and the smell of Deans cooking was a nice greeting, much better than the musty damp scent the motels usually had. You set your bag down on the bed

“Dean, did Sam call?” You asked in a panicked tone rushing over to him.

“No.” He responded sternly, not once looking up from the pot of food his focus was on.

“I had two missed calls and then now he won’t pick up.” You explained.

“And?” Dean turned to look at you with a blank expression.

“What if he’s in trouble?”

“He got himself into trouble the moment he started drinking demon blood” He turned away again.

“No I mean what if he’s hurt?”

“Then Bobby will handle it!” He yelled and dropped the pot on top of the stove. You jumped a little, and when he turned round to see your feared expression, he softened.

“Look, he made his decision 6 months ago. He chose a demon over his own brother, over his best friend.” He gently moved towards you and took your hands. “I am done protecting him. He is a big boy, clearly. He will take care of himself. I just want one stress free night y/n... please.”

“Alright”. You closed your eyes and took in a deep breath. You knew Dean still wanted his baby brother, but not the version of him that was existing now. He was still grieving the Sam he knew, the one he raised, and that would take time. You understood. But at the same time, you still felt as if you should keep reaching out. However, tonight was not the night.

“I’ll drop it. We can enjoy our first proper date. Let me go get tidied up.” You smiled as Dean’s body relaxed at your words. He squeezed your hands and offered you a thank you in the form of a smile.

You left for the bathroom to get changed and put on a bit of make-up. It was hard to keep Sam off your mind, you had to keep telling yourself off every time you thought of him. Even thought you were only alone for 30 minutes, he popped into your head countless times. You told yourself you would call Bobby in the morning to find out if he’s OK, he still kept in contact with Sam. Barley.

You came out of the bathroom and were shocked to see the lights off and the room filled with candles. Dean was in his FBI suit, the only one he owned, serving the plates on to the table which was draped in a cheap paper tablecloth. He had made a chicken dish which smelled amazing. He looked up at you when he heard the door close behind you and his jaw dropped.

“Damn you look amazing” He beamed as he walked towards you.

“You too.” You grinned at him.

He placed your hand in his and led you a few feet to the table, twirling you on the way. He pulled out your chair and pushed you in before taking his own. Your legs intertwined with each others under the tiny table, which was barley big enough to hold the plates and drinks Dean had squeezed on. You started on the food and we’re surprised at how nice it was considering what he had to work with.

“This is really good Dean!”

“I am a man of many talents.” He spoke with a mouth full of food making you snicker a little.

“So, what do you do for a living?” Dean asked.

“Huh?” You looked at him.

“It’s a first date!” He explained

“Oh!” You caught on.  “Well I hunt monsters with this really tough, hot, scary monster killer. You better not let him find out about this date.” You jested. 

“Oh yeah?” Dean played along. “What’ll he do?” 

“He’s very protective over me. And he’d totally kick your ass.” 

“Is that right?” He smirked as his hand started to make it’s way up your thigh under the table. It took you by surprise, and butterflies started growing in your stomach and his hand slipped under your dress. You looked into his eyes, mischievous as ever as he bit down on his lip and you parted your legs slightly for him. His hand was inching closer to your panties when your phone rang across the room. 

“Don’t answer” Dean pleaded.

“I’m sorry” You stood up from the table and picked up your phone, your heart skipped a beat when you saw Sam’s name on the screen. 

“It’s Sam” you gasped. You didn’t wait for a reaction from Dean before you answered. 

“Sammy are you OK?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure, are you hurt?”

“I’m OK I promise. But I need your help”

“What is it?”

“I can’t tell you until you get here.”

“When? I’m in the middle of something” You looked over at Dean who shook his head before taking a swig of his beer. 

“Like right now. What state are you in?”

“We’re in Kansas” Dean left his seat and stood beside you to listen. 

“I’m only in Oklahoma. Please, Y/N I need you on this.” 

“Sam I-”

“I’ll text the address.” He hung up. You dropped the phone on the bed and sighed running your hand through your hair. Dean took a few steps back and looked at you waiting for answers. 

“Dean what do I do?” You asked, to your surprise welling up instantly. Dean walked away and bowed his head, pinching the bridge of his nose to keep himself calm. You could see his clenching jaw from the side and you knew he wouldn’t want you to go. 

“It’s Sam.” You pushed. 

“Is it though?” He spun on his heel and paced back closer to you. “You don’t hear from him for weeks, months, now all of a sudden he needs you help with what? a case? Lilith?” 

“He didn’t say.” You whimpered, preparing yourself for the inevitable argument. 

“All I wanted was one frigging stress free night! Just you and me!” He roared. You didn’t answer him. 

“I don’t want to fight. But if you leave now and go see him.. this is over.” Dean spoke lowly. The tears tripped down your cheeks as the words came out of Dean’s mouth. You could see in his eyes he hurt to say it.

“He’s your baby brother. You can’t give up on him.” You pleaded with Dean. 

“Y/N, he’s a monster. It’s been 6 months, do we know if he’s even still human?”

“You don’t mean that.” You breathed sharply to control your emotion. Dean wandered to the bed and he began to cry, his shoulder slouched as his arms resting on his knees caught his face. You sat beside him and placed your hand on his back, rubbing in gentle circular motions. 

“If I see him, and he’s not? If he’s not fully human any more? I’ll have to kill him.” He looked at you with tears streaming, causing your own to start up again. 

“I understand. I do. But I care so much for him and I won’t forgive myself if I don’t even at least find out what is going on” 

He didn’t respond. He fell back on the bed and buried his face in the crook of his elbow. Sam stuff hit him hard. You wiped away tears many times in the past 6 months, and he had done the same for you. That’s what hurt him now, he had told you his fears about Sam and why he had to cut him out, but you still wanted to see him anyway. 

“He’s my family too. And if it’s a trap or whatever.. then I’ll get out.” You explained. He still stayed silent. You got up from the bed and swapped the cheap heels you had on for your boots. You grabbed one of Dean’s shirts that was lying on top of his duffle and put it over your little black dress. Eventually Dean stood up from the bed, taking off his suit jacket and walking towards you as you stood by the door. He placed his palm on the back of your neck and searched into your eyes. 

“Please. Don’t” He begged. You pressed your lips to his, still wet from the tears. You completely drank him in, knowing this could be the last time you ever kiss him. He reciprocated hard, he was trying to give you a reason to stay. You broke the kiss and stepped back from his grip.

“I have to. I’m sorry.” You walked out the motel door and closed it behind you. You leaned against the door for a moment to catch your breath when you heard thumping on the wall. You knew it was Dean, he didn’t know how to handle his anger. You wanted to be there so badly for him, and you would be if he lets you when you get back. But Sam first. 

READ PART 4

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

And I’ll Succumb To You

Summary: As an Omega, society sees you as either low on the totem pole or a breeding factory. You however have the job as a bounty hunter, and your eyes are set on a large prize.

Warnings: SMUT, rough sex, cursing, abo dynamics.

Author’s Note: Okay I never thought I’d be into this kink but here I am. First attempt. This one is LOOOONG (13 pages/6,643 words!)

The clinking of glasses accompanied with murmurs buzzed about within the Valentine saloon. The walls were dimly lit with hues of red and gold. The acrid smell of cigarette smoke hung heavy in the air, accompanied by the haze that seemed to hang permanently in the atmosphere.

You leaned heavily against the solid bar, tipping a glass of whiskey to your lips. The liquid slid into your mouth and down your throat, the burning sensation left behind a welcoming tingle. Setting the shot glass back upon the slightly sticky surface, your gaze scanned the other inebriated patrons.

Merry laughter and wayward mannerisms tainted this place; drunken degenerates often flocking to this spot after a day of working in the stockyards. Wasn’t your ideal place to stay, but it provided some easy entertainment between the bar fights and drunken flirtatious antics between harlots.

The doors opened with a slam, dragging your attention toward them. The scent hit you first before you saw them: Alphas. A small group of bounty hunters stormed in, their boots muddy from the street outside. They looked rather agitated, perhaps a failed attempt of catching an outlaw drove them here to placate themselves.

It were as if the atmosphere had changed. Valentine was a town full of Betas; Alphas never really bothering to stay much longer than a night here. The evening women would take any chance to be claimed by one, even though a Beta was not what they were after. You watched as one of the bar maids sauntered up to their table, a cheeky smile painted her crimson lips and her voice held an alluring tone as she asked what they needed, leaning over to expose her cleavage. Unphased by her flirting and still disgruntled, they ordered their drinks, turning their attention towards themselves once again.

The bar maid seemed taken aback by their lack of reaction, quickly turning on her heel to hide her damaged pride. You merely rolled your eyes and turned to face forward. Sure, Alphas could have a Beta if they chose. However, you knew they sought out Omegas.

One of which you were.

Your parents were Betas, subjected to a normal lifestyle of mediocracy and normal careers. Betas held the majority of society, and they were the lucky ones. You’d been made with the act pure lovemaking, absent of the forces of nature itself demanding to be driven by carnal urges. Your parents knew, as both of their families were mixed with Beta and Omega. They knew what their children could become.

You were the unlucky draw, having unwillingly presented as Omega at the proper age. Your siblings were Betas, carrying on with their livelihoods while you suffered each month through an unbearable heat. Your mind would cloud, devoid of all thought while your body was degrading itself into pure desire for an Alpha’s rut. Soaked with sweat and riddled with slick, the heat would last for days when it felt like months.

It wasn’t until you were assigned a caretaker did things ease for you. Whisked away to a safe space, you were taught to pleasure yourself to relieve your otherwise overwhelming desires. The intense, throbbing heat had been reduced to a dull ache afterwards, although you could never completely satisfy yourself.

The cruel life of an Omega as once described by your mother. After downing another drink, you’d slammed the glass down with unnecessary force. You often felt resentment toward your parents for even bringing you to life. You ran away years ago, absolutely tired of being carted away each month to be confined and subjected to your own bodily torture. You instead sought out alternative methods after hearing of other Omegas speak about it in hushed tones behind a hotel one night. A concoction of specially brewed rare plants that only few people sell, and fewer people know how to make. It seemed more like a pipe dream, until you saw the effects of it firsthand. Lilith’s Blessing.

It was quite an expensive remedy, and rightly so. Something of which that could change a God-willed act of nature itself would be steep in price. Finding sellers were tricky, them often passing clues for Omegas to decipher. It was such a complex underground operation that made moonshine businesses appear like child’s play.

You had to save up a few months for your first dose. It was only a hundred dollars back then, and a hundred more than you could afford. Working your way around however did the trick, and when the time of month when your expected heat was to arrive, it never came. For the first time in a long time, you rode through that week with bliss and no fear. And you had to find a way to obtain them on a monthly basis.

With your quick reflexes and learned skill of tracking and hunting, you became a bounty hunter.

Bounty hunting was often seen as an Alpha’s position, given how dangerous and rigorous it could be. While an occasional Beta would assume the role as well, it was unheard of for an Omega to do so. This advantage however made it the perfect job; the target would not expect one like you to capture them.

It’s been a few years since you’ve harnessed and perfected your technique. Despite your hatred for your heat, you would utilize it for your own advantage. The closer you were, the stronger your scent would become. Most outlaws and criminals were Alphas, and you would leave your scent in a nearby area to lure them in. Usually an article of clothing such as a chemise or a shawl, you would capture them as they were too busy investigating said object. Despite a few minor injuries along the way, it made for a decent living, as well as providing you with your drug of choice for relief.

The group’s whispers over beer further caught your attention. The frustration in their voices began to ebb away as the alcohol drags its slow grip on their consciousness. From the sound of it, they were already planning their next hit.

“Ain’t had a good streak in months,” one said. “Get nothin’ but the petty criminals.”

“We could try one of them big boys. Maybe the O’Driscolls?” Another suggested.

“Colm’s slipperier than an eel in an oil slick,” A third grumbled.

“What about Dutch’s Boys? Heard someone saw Morgan recently.”

The names all rung familiar with you. As a bounty hunter yourself, you’ve both seen and heard about them a numerous amount of times. Both gangs were a force to be reckoned with; their numbers too sizable for a lone wolf such as yourself. The rewards over their heads ran into the thousands. While the money was tempting, you would be a fool to go after either of them.

“Yeah, heard he’s been runnin’ ‘round West Elizabeth lately, alone,”

“Alone, eh? Looks like we got ourselves a score,”

You knew of course who they were talking about. Arthur Morgan; a substantial member of Dutch’s Boys and one of the most notorious outlaws of your time. You’ve heard his name a few times, and seen his face plastered on wanted posters in different states. From the way multiple people, lawmen and bounty hunters alike, tried to go after him, he and his gang seemed an expert at evading capture.

If he however was alone, perhaps it would be an opportunity for you. Arthur alone was still worth much more than you’d ever made collectively, and you would be set for a while.

Were you a fool for even thinking of such a thing? Yes, although you thought back to what one of them said: nothing but petty criminals. Easier to capture, but paid less. You didn’t want to bounty hunt for the rest of your life, and the high reward offered was becoming more tempting by the minute.

And so you decided to go after Arthur, and you had to do it soon. While these fools drowned their sorrows in alcohol, you hopped off your chair and headed out of the saloon.

---

You left that night, spurring your horse to gallop on across the darkened terrain while you formulated a plan. It only took a few hours to cross state lines. You made a small camp to rest in a thicket, awakening when the sun’s rays kissed your face. As you packed up camp, a familiar tightening below your navel made its presence. Your heat would be coming soon, and you’d planned accordingly. You had a bottle of Lilith’s Blessing tucked away in your satchel, though you hoped finding Arthur wouldn’t take much too longer. Your window of opportunity to lure him in was small. You’d be too useless in your heat, and taking the tonic would staunch your scent entirely.

You rode toward Strawberry, reaching the little town by high noon. It was bustling with travelers and locals alike. The mixture of scents filled your nose as you strolled past some Alphas, whose heads turned to you in curiosity. You kept your eyes forward, knowing you were becoming more inviting as time slowly moved on. You made a note to not stay around for much longer than you had to, in case anyone got any ideas.

You hitched your horse in front of the hotel, staring up at the building with interest. You always did like Strawberry; a small town nestled in the mountains that always seemed like something out of a story book. Perhaps that was an exaggeration, however it held a certain charm that Valentine lacked.

You spent the next few hours speaking to townsfolk, keeping your questions and conversations casual. There wasn’t much information to go around, except that some people spotted Arthur here a day ago before he started heading North toward Big Valley, a prime location for hunting game.

You stayed for a little while longer to gather some needed supplies. It was late afternoon by the time you’d left, trotting towards the thick forest and leaving the town behind. The scenery around was absolutely beautiful, and you could get lost in the splendor of these woods if it weren’t for the predators that roamed through the thicket, both human and animal alike.

The sun sank steadily lower in the sky the closer you got to Big Valley, and you took a deep breath. A melody of different aromas hit your nose, and you opened your mouth to further distinguish them. Through the pines and vegetation, you could detect one: Alpha. It was faint, but there nonetheless. Your eyes fell to the ground, noting a few tracks of hoofprints. Most remained on the path, until you found one set leading into the woods. They couldn’t have been more than a half a day old. You turned to follow, keeping your senses on the trail.

You kept on it, noting the tracks gradually became fresher the farther you went. You’d eventually come across a little clearing, the Alpha scent heavy but stale enough to not be overwhelming. Judging by the indents in the underbrush and the blackened spot that indicated a fire, he camped here at some point. He probably packed up and left just a few hours ago. You were getting closer, and a smile tugged on your lips, practically feeling the money in your hands.

You eventually reached the forest line that broke away to the large meadow that stretched for miles before giving way to the mountains. A breeze carried through, the crisp arctic air from Ambarino breezing through your hair. It also carried something else: the coppery scent of blood. Animal blood. It mixed with the Alpha musk, which was now very fresh. He had to be close by.

Rather than following the tracks further into the field, you rode along the outskirts of the forest. You kept a wary eye out, pacing your horse at a steady gallop. However with the ever darkening sky, it was starting to become harder to see. You would have to find a spot soon.

After a few minutes of looking, you finally settled for a spot. At the base of one of the mountains, one way blocked by the rock faces too steep to climb. He would only have three directions to go. You dismounted and quickly peeled off your clothes, until you were in nothing but your chemise. It was off you within seconds, the fabric warm and slightly dampened from your center. The pressure deep in your belly was growing.

You placed it behind a bush, and brushed against some nearby boulders for additional scenting. You were even quicker to redress, knowing it was only a matter of time before he caught wind of you. Another breeze danced through the trees, blowing out towards the field. Not much longer now.

You hurried back over to your horse, until you felt your foot get stuck. You lost your balance and flailed, desperately attempting to keep yourself upright. You hit the forest floor, your breath coming out in a harsh whoosh. Sharp pain radiated along your stomach and ribs.

“Fuck,” You grunted, yanking your foot free from its prison before standing back up, brushing the debris from your clothes. You were glad no one was around to witness that. Being more careful now, you grabbed your weapons and lasso and shooed your horse away. You hunched over as a shudder rippled up your spine, running swiftly away to a spot of thicker brush. With the twilight darkness and the leaves encompassing you, it should be a perfect hiding spot lest he decided to come this way.

With the wind steadily blowing, you waited, ears pricked and eyes open. The sounds of nature surrounded you, animals of the night slowly making their appearances for food. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, yet.

The wind quieted down after a few minutes, the cool air at a standstill around you. Despite the forest being alive with every animal, you felt as if you were being watched. Another shudder passed through you, trying to shake off the feeling. No one was watching you, you scolded yourself.

Another few minutes passed by when the sound of thundering hooves caught your attention. You were too far to see who it was, however the air alerted you of the all too familiar scent. A wide grin crossed your face. He fell for the bait.

A swell of heat rolled over your belly, a slowly growing wave of intensity. You bit down on your lip hard. Your body was willingly responding to the Alpha scent. You grasped for your satchel and dug around for the familiar tonic.

Only…

Oh no.

You dug around desperately, trying to clutch on something that seemed to no longer be there. The little glass bottle was not amongst the other items buried into your satchel. Your heart began to hammer, shoving things out of the way, hoping it was in a corner.

No such luck.

It was then you realized where and when exactly it fell, and heading back for it would lead you right into your own trap, to him.

Another swell of heat crashed through your system, even stronger now. Your pants felt damp from your growing slick. There was no way you’d be able to catch him in this state. You’d have to run and pray that he didn’t catch up.

In the distance, you heard his grunts. Leaves stirring and twigs snapping underneath footsteps. You focused on listening, trying hard to ignore what was forming deep in your core. The pressure was only steadily increasing, calling for a release. You hated having to abandon this opportunity, the money was just too good. But you could not risk this, not for anything. You turned around and began to move through the brush as quietly as you could.

A deep growl rolled through the woods behind you, surrounding you and gripping you. Your body responded faster than your mind did, bringing a fresh wave of slick that nearly soaked your pants. A whine built in your throat that you were quick to staunch. You continued to move forward despite the heavy drag of your muscles wanting to root you in your place.

He was getting closer. The echoes of the vegetation bending and breaking in his path only grew louder. You hurried your pace, hoping that you weren’t too loud to exactly pinpoint your location. The pressure inside you only ballooned, crawling into your mind and raking through your consciousness. You fought it with determination, your horse was visible through the trees. If you could only make it…

His voice, rough and powerful, ripped across the landscape, tearing through your very soul. Your clouded mind forced your body to a halt, pinning your limbs as if they were tied down by chains. You staunched another growing yowl as you forced yourself back up, though your efforts were becoming weaker by the second. Your dry mouth formed to whistle for your horse, only to fail, your breath grating against your throat. You were so, so close…

 “There you are,”

Fear washed over you like a tidal wave. The Alpha musk surrounded you like a fog, and your body willingly responded, a small whine releasing from your throat. You wanted to run more, or to try and fight. You were however no match against in Alpha while you were in heat, and this was your first time being in the presence of one in the midst of it.

He was right behind you, and you refused to turn to face him. Your slick had thoroughly drenched your pants and your core pulsed with need.

“What’s an Omega doin’ out here, all alone?” he asked. His voice called to you, your mind roiling with a myriad of emotions.

“N-none of your business,” you hissed out, fighting to keep your voice even.

“Nah, ‘spose it ain’t,” he rumbled, stepping closer to you. You kept absolutely still, every nerve sparking with electricity. You watched as he came into your field of view. “Unless you’re up to somethin’.”

You kept your eyes away from his, but his frame took up the rest of your vision. He was tall and broad. His scent filled your nostrils and gripped your mind. You noticed something in his hand; a light piece of fabric which was your chemise.

You didn’t answer him, forcing yourself to turn your head away.

“Seems awful improper for a lady to run ‘round without this on,” he continued, coming even closer to you. “Then I found this.”

The glint of glass caught your eye, and you glanced to see it was your tonic. Your eyes widened, reaching out automatically to swipe it. He held his arm up out of your reach, and you got a good look of his face for the first time.

Arthur Morgan. Those wanted posters hadn’t done him justice. He was easily one of the most handsome men you’ve ever come across.

“Ah ah,” he said as if scolding a child. “Lilith’s Blessing. Don’t see that too often.”

“It’s mine!” you hissed, jumping up to try and grab it from his hand. Your fingers had brushed against the bare skin of his forearm for the briefest of a second, but it was enough to send electricity through your entire being, gathering deep within your center.

Arthur too seemed to be affected by your short contact. His bright eyes flashed and his throat rumbled with a growl. A growl that nearly brought you to your knees. It was becoming even harder to not succumb to your heat, the pulsation radiating below was nearly unbearable.

“P-please…” you whined, wincing at your own words. You hated to sound this desperate.

He hummed in response, the beast reflecting dangerously in his eyes. “You ain’t out here by coincidence, are ya?” he continued, stepping to just inches from you. Despite your heat wanting you to touch, you forced yourself to back up, only for your body to hit a tree. “Tell me, I’ll give ya this back.”

“I-I told you, it’s none of your b-business,” you said, unable to keep yourself from trembling.

Arthur stared at you for a long moment. “You’re a terrible liar,” he murmured, leaning forward to place his arm against the tree, trapping you one way. “I’ve heard about ya, the Omega bounty hunter. Shoulda known when I scented ya so far from any civilization.”

Your eyes widened. How in the world would he have figured that out so quickly? With his body so close and his musk wrapping around you like silk, your fear was quickly dissolving into a carnal desire.

“Were you plannin’ on capturin’ me?” he continued, his stare hot. “Turnin’ me in to the Pinkertons?”

Your only answer was to elicit a high pitched whine. His entire body stiffened and he ducked his head for a split second. He drew in a heavy breath, no doubt swimming in your thick scent. You heard him utter a dark swear underneath his breath.

“The more you stay silent, the less likely you’ll get away,” He growled.

Another wave of slick was brought upon you, ignited by his voice. You shut your eyes and shook your head, swallowing a gulp of air to keep yourself sane. It was a mistake, bringing a fresh wave of his aroma through your senses. It was becoming impossible to resist. You released another whine, your hips slightly bucking toward him.

Arthur growled again, so deep and animalistic that you felt it rumble through yourself. You could hear his fingers scratching against the bark of the tree. He too was losing composure. You opened your eyes to see his free hand twitch toward you, brushing against your thigh before yanking it back, placing it on the other side of you. Even through the fabric of your clothes, it was enough. You were losing all of your prior thoughts, succumbing quickly to your heat.

“Answer me, damnit!” he roared, leaning in closer to you. His breath ghosted across your face and his broad chest brushed against yours, and it were as if a switch had been flipped.

Your legs opened automatically, exposing even more of your aroma to him. The desire was too strong, too intense. You wanted him, needed him. He immediately found your waist, gripping you hard as he pressed himself against you. The hard line beneath his jeans were welcoming, and you ground against him without thought. He hissed into your ear, the sinful expletive curling around you like a snake.

“Woman…you’re testin’ me,”

Your mind could not formulate an answer, your mouth only giving out a soft, desperate moan while your hips pushed into him. He growled deeply, a notion that his own tether has slipped. His hands yanked at your pants, pulling them down to expose your hot skin to the cool air. Rough fingers explored your folds briefly, sliding along the copious amount of slick residing between your legs.

“Shit…” he muttered, his touch leaving you to quickly remove his gun belt and unbutton his pants. Even in the dim light, you could see how thick he was. The head of his cock moved between your folds, drawing a shudder from you as you whined for him. He found your entrance with ease, bucking himself in to the hilt with a deep groan.

Like a lock and key, it was a perfect fit. The pleasure that encompassed you was like no other. Your legs wrapped around him immediately. He thrusted hard and fast, gripping your legs tightly for added leverage. You moaned loudly, your hands grasping at his neck while he used your body to his liking.

“God damn,” he grunted, pounding into you hard. “You feel amazin’…”

You could only moan again in response, the pleasure overtaking every aspect of your mind. His broad frame bent over you, growling into your ear. A shudder passed through your system.

“Fuuuuuuccccck,” you whined, dragging the swear out that kept in tune with your ecstasy. “I need more!”

Arthur groaned at your words, shoving himself harder within you. His grip tightened to the point where you’d have bruises. His ragged breath hot against the crook of your neck, lips latching on and sucking forcefully. The pleasure was nearly dizzying, filling every corner of your mind. This is what you needed all along, and you had missed out on it. You felt whole.

He continued to utter curses against your skin, voice rough and gravelly. You weren’t sure if he was angry or just deeply rooted within his own ecstasy, or both. Your peak was quick on the rise, a climb too fast and forceful for you to fully comprehend. Your limbs clung to him tightly while it came crashing over you with such intensity that you cried out into the air. Your body shuddered while he fucked the rest of your orgasm out.

His strong arms peeled you off him just as the last waves of your climax had dissipated through your body. You were hovering for a second, only to be turned around so quickly you hadn’t fully realized it. You were facing the tree now, and your body naturally arched for him as he slid himself back in, the knot of his dick slightly bigger than before. With no time to recover, he slammed into you, fucking you with abandon while his hands tore off your top in one smooth motion. You were completely exposed now.

Your moans and whines were carnal, animalistic, pure instinct of nature itself taking the both of you over. His own growls reminded you of a wolf, and it sent a powerful shiver down your spine. He raked his nails down your back, the sweet sting heightening your pleasure fivefold. You were sooner on your second rise than you’d expected, only unleashing a high cry as it exploded from your core, more intense than your first.

His mouth was on your neck, his hot tongue licking at your skin. In your post orgasm bliss you’d nearly missed it until you felt his teeth graze over your flesh. You flinched away, a bubble of coherent thought breaking through the haze. “D-don’t mark me!” you pleaded. “Please!”

His mouth left your skin instantly, which you felt surprised that he listened. He instead wrapped his arms around you, his touch roving up the front of your torso and to your breasts. Your sensitive nipples hardened eagerly between his calloused fingertips.

“You feel so nice, girl,” he hissed, gripping your breasts hard in his palms. “Fuck, I’m close.”

Upon hearing these words, you wanted nothing more in life than to have his seed within you. You pushed your hips back, ass flush against his hips. He ripped out a deep snarl, yanking his hands away from your breasts to once again take place on your hips. His thrusts were even stronger now, the sound of skin slapping skin for every creature within a mile to hear.

You begged him for his release, your own voice sounding foreign to your ears to even such a thing. Finally, he pressed himself deeply within you and stilled. He released a loud groan as he emptied himself into you. His knot swelled immediately after, locking the two of you into place.

The melody of your voices had died with the movement, degrading to short breaths. His touch left your now bruised skin, and his body leaning back sent a jolt of sharp pain at your joined skin. You yelped out loud while your tired legs trembled beneath you.

He stopped shifting immediately, his hands returning to your waist. “Here,” he grunted. “Easy, now.”

His touch was surprisingly gentle as he helped you stand straight. You silently let him guide you, taking care to match his steps to prevent any unnecessary pain. You moved together, walking backwards until he rested against a boulder, easily pulling you into his lap as you slid down to the soft forest floor below. Once you’d been seated comfortably, he removed his hands and leaned back against the rock.

“We’re gonna be stuck like this for a while.” He quietly rumbled.

You knew that, even if it were your first time, you knew the knot would remain for a little while. The last of your high had faded away now, along with the longing need to mate. Now you were total strangers again.

You hadn’t answered him, stewing in your own personal thoughts, memories, and your own self-pity. You mentally cursed your own body for presenting Omega, your parents for even creating you, the world for allowing the existence of this society. Your one mistake led you to this moment. A bounty hunter and her prey, sitting naked on his lap in the middle of the woods. It seemed surreal at this point, that just moments ago this infamous outlaw just fucked you. Fucked you in your most vulnerable state that you’d tried so hard to avoid.

You closed your eyes, feeling tears well behind your lids. You pursed your lips and swallowed hard, forcing them back. The last thing you wanted to do was appear even weaker in front of him. You released a shuddering breath, louder than you intended.

“You alright?”

His voice was soft in such contrast how dominant he sounded earlier.

You bit your lip, unwilling to answer him. However, there was no telling how long you two would be stuck together like this. Speaking to one another could have been avoided until his knot returned to normal and the two of you could go your separate ways.

But Arthur was attempting to make conversation. For what reason?

You ignored him, still remaining silent and hoping he’d stop.

“Hey, I’m askin’ ya somethin’,” He reminded you. “Ain’t hard to answer.”

He was persistent. Of course, you’d gathered that from before, demanding answers despite your hesitation to speak the truth. Would he still try to force the answer out of you now, after everything? If you tried to pursue him again, he’d find out anyway.

Yet he’d probably not fall for the same trap twice.

“I was trying to hunt you,” you finally spoke.

“Huh?”

“When you asked what I was doing out here earlier. There’s your answer: I was trying to hunt you down and turn you in,” you reiterated.

His response was immediate. “’Course you were, you made it damn obvious.”

You turned-or tried to turn- to scowl at him. “Then why did you try to force me to answer?”

He met your gaze evenly, no trace of anger on his face. “Tried to make it an even trade. An answer for your tonic,” he explained.

“If you’d given it back in the first place, we wouldn’t be like this,” you grumbled, automatically shifting a little and whined from the pain that followed after.

His hands found your waist again, a steady but gentle grip to keep you from moving. Though he gave a small grunt, it was his turn to fall silent. You knew he knew you were right, and he was probably beating himself up over it.

“With my rut… Couldn’t resist…” He murmured, so quiet that you had to strain to hear him.

Hell, neither could you.

You also knew that despite all higher and more intelligent thought, nature would have even the strongest of beings to fall to their simple, God-intended ways. In reality, neither of you were at fault. A cruel twist of fate it seemed to bring you and him together on this night.

You remembered how he heeded your plea to not bite you. A bite in which would leave a mark for mating, to bound you to him for life. Horror stories of Omegas unwillingly bound to Alphas whispered in the late hours in saloons and alleyways used to frighten you when you were younger. He struck you as someone who would force a poor Omega to be bound to him. “You didn’t mark me,” you stated. “Why?”

“I ain’t about that. Forcin’ to be mated is disgustin’,” he answered. “Weren’t gonna do it anyway. If I wanted a mate, I’d rather have an Omega who was willin’.”

His answer shocked you to silence once again.

“That surprise ya?”

“O-of course!” you spluttered. “You’re a dangerous man, a killer!”

“I ain’t a good man, I know. But I have morals. No one would wanna be with me anyway.” He spoke calmly, yet you detected a hint of emotion in his voice. Sadness? He gave a soft sigh, his breath just barely tickling your naked skin. “I’m sorry…”

He apologized. Your heart unnecessarily skipped a beat. Even with the current circumstances, this man continued to surprise you. Beforehand, you’d only known him as an infamous criminal who robbed and murdered for years. His wanted poster had been forever burned in your mind.

Yet he was human. Human just like you. Someone with thoughts and feelings. You couldn’t justify his actions, but you had to admit after tonight, your opinion on him would soften just a smidge. Your actions had brought him to this point.

“I’m sorry too,” You murmured to him. “I… I went after you because your bounty would be enough to secure me a decent living, at least for a while.” You inwardly braced yourself, expecting for him to react negatively.

Instead, you felt his body rumble underneath you with a small chuckle. “Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for. I know it ain’t easy bein’ an Omega in this world.”

“It’s awful,” you huffed. “Reason I started bounty hunting is so I can afford Lilith’s Blessing. I can’t stand my heats, couldn’t stand being carted away like some crazed fool every month to keep myself safe from any eager Alphas-” you stopped yourself, realizing too late that you’d spilled a little too much to him.

He hummed in response. His torso shifted as he sat up closer to you, though still keeping space between you two. The heat radiating from his body was welcoming as the cool air began to nip at your exposed skin. His scent wafted around you, though not nearly as potent as before. It was…comforting.

“What’s your name?” he suddenly asked. It wasn’t a demand, but a simple question. His voice was soft and kind.

And in some way, you were completely at ease with answering.

When you whispered your name to him, he took a deep breath. “I’ve heard about ya on more than one occasion. You’ve made quite a name for yourself. Guess I shoulda known you’d come after me eventually, or at least someone else from my gang.”

“Wasn’t planning to,” you sighed. “Have to be a fool for just me to go up against your whole gang. Hell, it was even foolish of me to even try to go for you alone. ”

“A fool’s right. Gotta admit, it’s a pretty good trap. Ya might’ve even caught me if it worked in your favor.”

The praise caught you off guard, and your cheeks flushed with a rush of heat. Your lips twitched with a small smile, though you hid it. You had to wonder how things would be different had they gone accordingly. Arthur was large and strong compared to how small you were. He could outmuscle you, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t take him down one way or another. Perhaps you could be riding back to Strawberry with his unconscious body draped over the back of your horse.

That possibility seems like eons ago now.

You sighed heavily. What option was there now? The deed was done, and you could go and never have to speak to one another again after tonight. A rational and reasonable decision that another part of your mind seemed to be arguing with. Was it the last dregs of your heat influencing you?

After a few minutes of unspoken silence, the soft sounds of nature surrounding you, Arthur had shifted. You’d flinched in expectance of pain, yet found none. His knot had shrunken, which allowed him to slide out of you with ease.

You were to yourself again, and it felt…strange.

He helped you to your feet, a daunting task as your entire body weighed with fatigue. He stepped away, and you shivered involuntarily. Without his warmth, the cold hit you like a train.

He seemed to notice as he grabbed your clothes off the ground, handing them back to you. Taking them gratefully, you quickly got redressed, though the damp fabric of your pants did not help matters. He himself was still fully dressed, though he tucked himself back into his jeans and replaced his gun belt. Once you were completely dressed, the two of you stood just a few feet from one another.

He spoke first. “What will ya do now?” he asked.

You weren’t sure. You knew life wouldn’t return to normal now after this. “Can’t really say.” You answered lowly.

Arthur stared at you, his lip twitching as if in thought. A long moment passed when he said. “Come with me.”

You blinked, staring right back at him. “Excuse me?”

“Come with me, Y/N,” he repeated, stepping closer to you. “To my gang.”

Were you hearing him right? “Now why would I join a gang of outlaws when I hunt them for a living?”

“But that’s just it, you won’t ever have to do that again. Not unless ya want to. Life in our gang is different. We help people too, we ain’t just murderers and thieves.”

You didn’t answer, a small frown on your face as you began to consider his words. As difficult as it was to believe, Arthur had been pretty open and truthful with you thus far.

“I know it don’t sound like your kinda life, but you wouldn’t be alone. We can all protect you-”

“A bunch of Alphas, protecting me, during my heat?” you interjected.

“We ain’t all Alphas,” he assured. “Betas n’ Omegas too. We always make a plan for an Omega’s heat.”

“It ain’t being carted off, is it?” you asked warily.

“’Course not. Sometimes they get that tonic, other times they…relieve themselves,” he gave a small, awkward shrug.

“And me?”

“…Whatever you think is best for ya,” He muttered, though tucking his head down and rubbing the back of his neck. “Ain’t gonna judge what ya pick.”

The more he spoke, the more the offer seemed tempting. You were still apprehensive, but you had to admit sometimes that being with people was better than being alone, especially if it meant being around those who understood your heat and dealt with it in creative matters.

It was a huge decision, but one that wouldn’t sound difficult to make. You technically didn’t have a home; you would move to different hotels and saloons while you searched bounties. Hell if anything, you slept more out in the woods than in a building since leaving your parents. Homesickness wouldn’t be a factor.

“I ain’t forcin’ ya, Y/N. Thought I’d jus’ offer n’ give ya a better life. Least I can do after…all this.” He uttered, opening his arms slightly as if to gesture to you and him.

God, why did he have to be so soft?

“Fine,” you said with a huge exhale of breath. “You’ve convinced me.”

He lifted his head up to meet your gaze. Even in the darkness, you could see a genuine smile cross his face.

Soon you found yourself on the back of his horse, your arms wrapped tightly around his torso while galloping through Big Valley. Your own horse was following close behind, but the fatigue hit you harder than expected. Arthur’s large frame felt warm and relaxing to your cold and tired muscles. The unknown was ahead and you were about to tackle it head-on.

For the first time in years, you were truly content.

[thegoodgayshit]

Luz’s mother really doesn’t want to send Luz to camp. She knows once she leaves, there is no going back. But Luz has a knack for getting into trouble, and one day she stumbles into the same type of people her mother would have preferred she avoided. After helping Luz dissolve her high school bully into dust, Eda and Lilith know right away that this kid is just like them - a child of the gods. So Luz hops on a Pegasus and heads to Camp Half-blood, where she embarks on a dangerous quest that makes her both friends and enemies... and she might even save Olympus along the way.

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Emperor Belos and his Nuclear Eye Drops

Luz’s dream hadn’t given away just how deep the caves of Mount Pelion actually were.

There was a moment when she was running where it felt like she was just sliding straight down, and she panicked for a moment, praying to every god she could think of that she was going the right way.

The torches on the wall were her only source of light, and the screeching and shouting from the battle in the armory were getting quieter and quieter the farther down she descended.

As she walked, Luz realized that this was the first time she was alone, truly alone, since she’d hopped on a bus to escape from Lina on her last day of school. Luz had been alone most of her life, so she knew what it felt like, but she had forgotten how uncomfortable it really made her feel.

She’d made friends, fantastic, lovely, and incredible friends since she’d come to camp. She definitely wouldn’t have made it as far as she had without them. But now that she was alone, she felt every cut she’d gotten during the last few weeks’ worths of battles… every bruise, every sore muscle, every piece of hair that had fallen into place. Without her friends, exhaustion was creeping into her bones, and she was starting to wonder if she should have run away without anybody following her.

She was just one demigod. How was she going to do this on her own?

Eventually, she made it.

All at once, the cave felt familiar. Luz had seen it plenty of times before in her dreams, enough times that she instantly recognized the widening of the halls, the damp aroma of the cavern, and the sinking feeling in her gut that something very unnatural was lying within.

Then, she saw the portal.

Luz didn’t understand how it was possible, but it had somehow gotten even more terrifying than it was in her dreams.

It was still around the same size, but Luz was no longer able to see what lied within it. Instead, the ten foot tall border of obsidian and metal was protecting layers and layers of dark mist. Instead of having one little hearth on the top of the portal, now there was two huge flames sitting on either side of it. The smoke seemed to rise up in to the air and get sucked into the depth of the portal, sinking deeper and deeper until it wrapped into the mist entirely. Next to the portal was the small table and the chalice she had seen in her first dream, and while it looked expensive, it was quite underwhelming sitting next to something like the portal.

Dread started sinking into Luz’s stomach. How in Hades was she supposed to destroy that?

She heard the clanking of chains, and her gaze was ripped from the portal when she saw the cage, and the girl lying within.

She looked like a ghost. Luz hadn’t seen many goddesses before, but based on the ones she had seen, Luz had a hard time believing this girl could be one. She was so small and tiny she barely looked a day over nine, and she was bent over on her knees, her face pressed into the floor of the mountain pitifully. She was straining against the chains, but they might as well have been pinning her in place because despite the obvious effort she was putting in to move, she wasn’t budging an inch.

“Lady Hestia?”

The girl looked up, and Luz’s heart sank. Her eyes… they’d gotten so dark they almost looked black. All the warmth they’d had the first time Luz saw her in the cage was gone.

“You’re too late, brave one,” she said, and despite her voice being barely a whisper it cut through Luz’s ears like an icy wind. “Belos has stolen the last of my flame, and in mere moments the mountain will fall. You must run! Leave this place before it takes you with it.”

Luz froze, blinking. “Leave you? But I came all this way to free you.”

“Do not sacrifice yourself for this,” she insisted, “you have a chance to regroup and fight another day. Do not fulfill the prophecy here… not when the portal has already taken my flame and all the nightmares of the Underworld will rise and serve their Emperor!”

The prophecy. Amity had told her the rest of it… she’d said something like that… Luz wracked her brain trying to remember.

From what you find in the nightmare, a hero’s life ends.

There was another tremor, the whole mountain shaking right beneath Luz’s feet. She stumbled, gripping the side of the cave as the walls shook around her. Eventually, they began to subside, and Luz grit her teeth pulling herself to her feet.

Nobody’s life was going to end. She didn’t come all this way to fail.

“I’m not leaving you here,” Luz retorted, “if the mountain falls, there’s nothing any of us can do to stop Belos.”

So Luz made up her mind. With a furious scream, she charged, sprinting across the room towards the cage and hacking down with her sword. The metal bars split like she was cutting through paper, and five of the thick steel bars fell. Luz cut a hole through, leaning in to crouch down next to Hestia, who was still chained to the floor.

“This is foolish, hero,” Hestia warned, as Luz lifted her hands to examine the chains, looking for the right way to cut through. “The mountain-”

There was another tremor, the metal bars of the cage rattling. This one was much stronger than the last and lasted almost a full thirty seconds. Luz had to cling to the slashed metal to avoid falling on her own sword.

“Nobody is getting left behind,” Luz panted as the shaking subsided, “we promised Demophon we would free you, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“Demophon?” Hestia breathed, and for the first time since Luz found her, Hestia’s eyes seemed to flicker with warmth. “You spoke to him?”

Luz opened her mouth to reply, but Hestia’s eyes suddenly widened.

“The Mist!”

Luz cocked her brow, confused before she looked down and her eyes widened in horror. All around her, black mist had slowly begun to fill the area around the mangled cage, and Luz had to scramble back to avoid it. She didn’t miss it all though, and some of it managed to creep up around her face near her nose. She choked, her nostrils filled with the horribly familiar smell of rotting meat.

Death Mist.

Luz wasn’t proud of how fast she ran to get away, especially with Hestia trapped in the cage unable to move, but she couldn’t stand it. Her eyes had already started to water, and by the time she pressed back against the wall next to the door she’d come through, she wanted to drown herself in water just to get it out of her lungs. She debated turning and running when she heard his voice.

“Up-pup-pup! Don’t go anywhere. I’d actually like to have a word with you, demigod.”

All at once, the mist vanished. When Luz took a few shaky breaths, she looked up and saw him.

Belos was standing between her and Hestia, one hand on his staff, the other watching her with what looked almost like interest in his neon eyes. The horns on his golden mask leered over her, casting a shadow in the haze of the torches hanging along the mountain wall.

Luz glowered at the sight of him, all the rage towards the way he’d been tormenting her dreams rising up in one furious bubble. Gripping her sword tightly, she felt her mouth twist into an angry scowl.

“Let Hestia go, or else!”

She yelled and swung her sword, feeling it collide hard with Belos’ staff as he raised it to block her. Luz strained against it, but he was completely unmoveable.

“Okay,” Belos said, and all at once, Luz felt him push, sending her skidding backward against the mountain floor. “I’ll play.”

He charged, his staff extending into a wicked four-foot sword, and Luz’s eyes widened. She did the only thing she could think to do; deflect.

Belos was stronger than her in every way imaginable. He had speed, strength, and strategy. If it wasn’t for Luz’s adrenaline keeping her dodging and deflecting, he would have already sliced her open.

She was gritting her teeth with every move, her chest heaving as she looked for an opening. She reared back, swinging at his shoulder when she thought he might be leaning too hard on the other side, but she nearly got her hair chopped off the top when he spun and swung right above where she was standing.

She was going to lose, and he knew it.

“What’s wrong, demigod? I thought you wanted a fight.”

With one brutal kick, he knocked Luz backward. She fell right onto her knees, Aletheia skidding away from her hand and back into a ring. Luz covered it with her left hand, breathing hard as Belos pointed his sword at her, tilting his head.

“Had enough?”

He was about two feet away. The perfect opening.

“Not even close,” Luz smirked, scooping up the ring and flinging it right towards his face. The ring shifted into a knife, striking him right in the left eye. Belos hissed, recoiling as there was a shattering sound, a piece of his mask falling at her feet. He clutched his face, and Luz scooped the knife into her hands, clutching it while she heaved on the ground, still recovering from his kick.

But she’d made a mark.

Belos chuckled, his back still turned from her, and Luz watched as his hand covered over his eye.

“I like your spirit,” he said, turning to look at Luz. His mask was chipped, two thick lines running above it. It made his neon eyes look more menacing like he’d been using nuclear eye drops.

“Try that again and things won’t end well for you.”

Belos turned, kicking Luz again and sending her spinning into the ground. She coughed, clutching her chest as she struggled to look up at him.

“I am just a man on a mission. In the grand scheme of things, the goddess’ life is inconsequential. But now, you’re here. And the mountain is falling, whether we like it or not.”

Luz was wincing as she looked up at him, her eyebrows furrowing as she listened to what he was saying.

“If you want to save the life of everybody here in the mountain, let me use the portal. I will bring my army through, and spare the life of your friends, and the hearth goddess.”

It was an impossible choice. One that put Luz right between a rock and a hard place. She couldn’t pick.

“But… Olympus…” she whispered, biting her lip.

The mountain shook again, and Luz cried out as the shock of it flattened her right against the ground. This time, the mountain was not left unscathed, and the earth began to shift, the back wall of the cavern splitting away from the earth. Chunks of rock collapsed, and Luz shouted in terror as the wall of the cavern fell back and into the open air, and light suddenly rushed into the room. The back of the mountain dropped like an avalanche, and thank the gods it didn't take Hestia's cage with it, just some of the huge metal crates Luz had hidden behind in her dreams when she was spying. As bright morning light hit her face, Luz winced, doing her best to blink it out and take stock. She was alive, and the tremors hadn't dropped her off the mountain yet.

But it was also just after dawn, which meant it had almost been forty-eight hours since they left the Blight manor.

They were almost out of time.

Belos chuckled menacingly as the tremor’s eventually subsided, and it looked like he hadn’t even been phased by the earthquake.

“You probably think I want to invade Olympus. But the will of my army is not so boorish. We want to purify this world, rid them of the gods and every awful thing they stand for. There will be order and peace, a chance for demigods and the will of man to decide the fate of the world.”

“You want to take this world all for yourself,” Luz spat, glaring up at him. He tilted his head curiously at her outburst, but let her talk. She wondered if he found it humorous. Probably.

“You think getting rid of the gods will solve our problems?” Luz exclaimed, getting slowly to her feet, clenching her knife tightly against her chest. “That it will fix everything wrong with this world? Look at what you’ve done! You’ve brought back heroes from beyond the grave and instead of making things better you’ve only made the lives of demigods worse!”

She pointed her knife at him accusingly, all the frustration she was feeling from the quest, and her life back at camp, and from the way this quest has treated her friends… treated Amity. All this chaos and pain was Belos’ fault.

“You’ve done nothing but hurt the people I care about since I realized I was a demigod. You’re no better than the gods you hate.”

There was a twitch in Belos’ face that Luz might not have seen had she not broken a part of his mask. For a moment, Luz thought he was going to charge. She would have been dead, with him holding a sword and her the knife. But then, he straightened, turning away from her and towards the portal that was swirling again. The mist was getting thicker and thicker, the flames next to it rising higher and higher… and Luz realized what was about to happen.

It was going to open again.

“I think it’s best you reconsider,” Belos said, watching it. “Tik-Tok, demigod, time is almost out. Attack me, and die. Leave this place, and your friends shall live.”

The portal began to glow a deep purple, and the mist changed. Now, it was translucent, and Luz could see with terrified eyes the horrors that were behind it. Armies upon armies of the undead, souls waiting to come back to this world. They were clawing at the door, waiting to be the next one out.

The flames around the portal began to rise, and Hestia groaned from behind her chains. The mountain started shaking, and Luz knew then it was too late. She was out of time.

Then, her eyes locked on the chains.

The chains.

How far away were they? Ten feet? Fifteen? Much farther than the strings at Orpheus’ manner. She’d probably just hit Hestia. But she had no choice. There was nothing else she had up her sleeve, no other tricks she could pull. It was her last chance.

So, she threw her knife.

It sailed through the air, slashing through one of the chains right as Belos realized what she’d done. He twisted, his eyes following the knife as it made its mark, cutting through the ones wrapped around Hestia’s right hand. For a moment, the portal weakened, the mist darkening, and Luz could no longer see the hundreds of souls of the other side.

But she’d only cut one chain. She hadn’t done it, Hestia was still locked against the ground, her knees wrapped, one hand free to desperately try and throw the knife back towards Luz. It clattered against the floor to the right of Belos, just past his shoulder.

She’d never get there. She knew it. She’d failed.

Roaring, Belos turned, rearing his sword up and swinging towards her. Luz squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the slice that would inevitably kill her. She’d never be able to dodge, not without a weapon, and certainly not without Belos catching her.

But when she closed her eyes, she wasn’t greeted by death.

“Luz!”

She felt a body slamming into her from the side, sending her reeling against the mountain floor. She gasped as she landed hard on her stomach, her eyes flying open to see what hit her.

Well, more like who.

Amity had blocked the strike, meeting Belos’ sword with her own. She’d shoved Luz out of the way, and she’d managed to keep Luz alive, if not for a few seconds.

“Bah!” Belos spat, glaring at her. “Aphrodite’s brat. I see Achilles was thwarted by you yet again.”

“He should have thought twice before taking on a Blight!” She hissed, pushing back and swinging again. Belos blocked it, his eyes narrowing. Amity had always been better with a sword than Luz. The sight of it began to fill Luz’s chest with hope. The tables were starting to turn.

Luz scooped up Aletheia, shifting it into a sword, and charged, rearing back to swing at Belos while he was occupied with Amity.

He saw her coming, sidestepping both of them. Now, Luz and Amity were side by side, guarding the portal with their swords raised. Their eyes were narrowed in determination, their bodies tensed in a silent agreement.

They wouldn't let him open that portal. Whatever it took, they were going to stop him.

Belos’ eyes shifted between them, before spinning his sword into a staff. The pole was double-edged, with a foot of wicked bronze on either end. Perfect for when you were outnumbered.

The mountain rumbled again, and Amity gasped, stumbling. Luz reached over and caught her, dropping both of them to their knees while the quakes wracked through the cavern. Even Belos shifted, needing to grip his staff with both hands to keep himself steady. When they subsided, Luz helped Amity to her feet.

“Are you okay?” She whispered, and the daughter of the love goddess whipped her head to look at her like she had three heads.

“Am I okay? I’m not the one who ran off to try and free Hestia on her own!” She hissed, and Luz winced, shrugging her shoulders.

“Lilith saw an opening and told me to run.”

Behind them, the portal's flames popped, rising up again despite Luz cutting one of the chains. In the cage, Hestia flinched, but she was now at least on her knees and pulling at the other chain trying to free herself. Belos was stepping closer to them, his eyes narrowed, obviously angry.

This was a bad situation. One that kept getting worse. But at least now she wasn’t alone.

Luz turned back to Belos, gripping her sword tightly. “You’re outnumbered. Surrender, and close the portal for good.”

Belos chuckled and shook his head, his staff pressing hard into the ground leaving white slashes along the rocky floor.

“Oh no, demigod. We are not done here,” he said, lifting his left hand. The mountain got colder, the temperature dropping as Belos flicked his hand, and Death Mist curled out from around his cloak.

“Before this mountain falls, I am going to kill you both. Then I will open that portal and run Olympus to the ground.”

[nothingbutdustandshadows]

Invisible

<previous_next>

characters: christopher lightwood, matthew fairchild, thomas lightwood, james herondale, lucie herondale, cordelia carstairs.

tw: blood, death

Chapter Two

Lucie opened her eyes to a throbbing head, around her was a sort of palace, as colorless as it was pleasant. The walls were old and crumbling, it seemed to be some sort of prison, it looks like a castle from a fairytale Lucie thought. She panicked as she started to recall the events that had occurred. Next to her were her friends sprawled on the ground, starting to stir, all their hands were tied behind their backs and ankles tied together. Other than that, to Lucie’s relief, everyone seemed alright. Matthew had a slight bruise on his jaw and Christopher’s glasses were askew. “Where are we-” “Finally awake”, the cold loud voice seemed to come from all around her. “Who are you, what do you want!” Matthew shouted, Lucie turned to see where he was looking and gasped. Silvery hair, pale skin and white clothes, he might have been an angel sitting on a throne. But his face, Lucie had never seen something so cruel in her life. So much hatred. “On to business already? I thought we could have a little chat, Oh well. I want you to fight for me.” He said. Lucie shivered hearing that voice, it sent a chill through her bones. “And why would we do that?” Cordelia asked, her voice firm. Despite the situation Lucie couldn’t help but admire her to be parabatai. “Because, you have no choice” He looked at Cordelia like it was the most obvious thing in the world, which she supposed it was She looked at James, his face went from concentration to sudden understanding “Belial” James said, “Hello Grandfather.” Belial- James and Lucie’s grandfather- a prince of hell, looked amused, everyone else confused. “Why did your grandfather kidnap us?” Thomas asked. “Like he said. He wants us to fight for him.” James said, he turned to the prince standing in front of him. “Why not do it yourself?”

 “Oh if only it were so simple, I cannot harm Lilith. You can, you will kill her for me.” “Lilith!” Cordelia exclaimed. “We cannot possibly fight-” “Humans and their fragile bodies- I do not care whether you cannot fight her, you will try everything you can, kill her or die trying. Lucie took a deep breath “What if we don’t?” Between one second and the next Belial had gone from sitting on his throne to standing behind Christopher, holding a knife to Kit’s throat, pressing it hard enough that droplets of blood started to drip down Christopher’s throat. Christopher flinched a little but remained with a blank expression. Many shadowhunters said Kit wasn’t brave, not a real shadowhunter, but that wasn’t true at all. Christopher was just as brave as the rest of The Merry Thieves. “Kit!” Thomas shouted, “We’ll do it, get away from him, please!” “That’s what I thought” Belial said, releasing Christopher, a wicked smile on his face. James, who was closest to him awkwardly crawled up to him, his tied legs in an uncomfortable position, Christopher, bach, are you okay?” James said to his cousin. Kit only nodded. “Now, I have some business to attend to, stay here till I get back.” He said and disappeared 

“Why get us all the way here if he is to just disappear moments later?” Matthew said unpleased. Cordelia was about to get on her feet, only to be knocked back on the ground as the castle started to rumble. Lucie looked around wildly to see large iron bars have erupted from the ground all around them, forming a cage. There was a rusted lock at the gate, Lucie thought of picking it. “What do we do?” Thomas asked. To his side, Christopher managed to get rid of the rope. A glint of metal in his hand. Lucie thought it was a knife but looking closer she saw it as a key. “You stole a key from a prince of hell?” she asked in disbelief. “He came really close to me, I saw it in his pocket and took it. I guess he’s not good at hiding things.” He said while untying Matthew. Together they untied everyone else. It was a relief for Lucie’s hand not be tied in a painful position behind her. She rubbed her palms to get the blood flowing. Thomas was looking at Kit’s throat, where Belial’s knife slit. “It’s nothing, Thomas” Christopher said. He used the key to unlock the large metal gate. “Now we just need to go to back to our dimension”

[scorlettimagines]

Supposed To Save You: A Caliban Imagine

Request from Anon: Heyyy I love your work! And I was wondering if you maybe could write another caliban imagine? maybe something like he comes to readers rescue thinking he lost her but fluff to the end. but honestly just do whatever you wanna do i bet it's gonna be amazing anyways haha.

Hope this is okay for you lovely, and enjoy x 

If there was one thing Caliban was certain of, it was that he was destined to be King. It was what he had been made for, sculpted from the clay from the Pit, forged in Hellfire and brimstone, all to sit on the throne that had once belonged to a fallen angel. Caliban had learned that he was destined to do a far better job than Lucifer, to take over the mortal realm and turn it into the tenth circle.

If there was one thing he was certain of, it was that he had a job to do, and he would do it well. Nothing would get in his way.

That was, of course, until she showed up. Y/N Y/LN. Trouble.

He had first met her on the Shores of Sorrow, a seemingly placid little demon with her toes in the sand, eyes closed as she listened to the sound of souls screaming in agony. He’d watched for a moment as the wind blew through her hair, the tide flowing in and out, water reaching her ankles every so often.

“It’s rude to stare.”

Four words that had been the start of something beautiful.

Y/N visited most days, always with something new to tell him. It turned out that she worked in Pandemonium, under Lilith’s rule. Caliban smiled as she slated the self-proclaimed Queen, about her lack of wanting to do anything for Hell. He liked that Y/N paid close attention to his ideas for expansion, the way she called him a dreamer.

She didn’t know about his destiny, about his purpose. He didn’t tell her, in fear of scaring her off. She was a friend to him, one that caused feelings to bubble up. Feelings he couldn’t quite explain.

As the weeks passed, Caliban saw more and more qualities in Y/N that made him like her even more. That made him think she would make the perfect Queen. She had a fire in her eyes that burned through her soul, the heat reaching him every time she looked at him.

It was when she spoke of enslaving witches that he felt the urge to kiss her for the first time.

But he didn’t, fighting a power inside of him that he could only wish to explain. He felt his heart beating faster; if he had blood, it would have been singing. So instead, he blurted out words he’d been too scared to say.

“I’m going to be King.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Y/N, I’m serious.”

And so he had explained everything to her. Just who he was, what he was made for, the path laid out in front of him. Caliban expected her to hit him when he’d finished, her friend having lied to her for so long. But instead, she smiled, that fire in her eyes burning bright.

“Well, I guess you’re going to need my help.”

Never in a million years did Caliban think to take Y/N’s words seriously. They were onto the second challenge now, and she had been unbelievably supportive in his fight against Sabrina Morningstar. He would never forget the smile on her face when he placed Herod’s crown on his head, celebrating with him that night.

That was the second time he felt the urge to kiss her. But he didn’t, pulling her into a hug instead, keeping his mouth shut so the words didn’t escape him.

Marry me. Rule with me.

And now, here he was, ready to go to Golgotha and claim Pontius Pilate’s bowl. Y/N was nowhere in sight, and he assumed she was still nursing an epic hangover. That was the only reason she wouldn’t have been there to support him, at least, that’s what he hoped. Caliban touched the time-stone and found himself transported to two thousand years ago. Here before Sabrina. Fantastic.

At least, that was until the world went black and he found himself in a cage.

Caliban stood up, his head thumping, and tried to force the door open. Nothing. He tried again, Y/N’s face in his mind. She would be laughing now, always scolding him for being too arrogant.

“It won’t work. Neither will shouting. The girl tried that, and it hasn’t ended well for her.” The voice came from behind him. Caliban turned to face a rather destitute-looking mortal in one of the other cells.

“And you are?”

“Barabbas. I’d stop doing that if I were you.” Caliban was still shaking the bars of his cage, and stopped, slumping onto the floor at Barrabas’ words.

“You said there was a girl. What girl?” Had Sabrina shown up before him? Barrabas had said it hadn’t ended well; maybe that meant he was King now.

“Some girl. Arrived a few hours before you.” Barrabas continued, and Caliban felt his heart sink at the description he gave. Y/N. Y/N was here, trying to help him in retrieving the bowl. Y/N was- No. He refused to let himself believe that Y/N was dead. She couldn’t be. He couldn’t lose her. Not when-

Not when he hadn’t even told her he loved her.

Caliban was certain of that now, the thought of losing her sending pain shooting to his very core. He knew what that feeling was, the one he had felt so long ago on the Shores of Sorrow when he had seen her for the first time. She was supposed to be his salvation.

He was supposed to save her.

And now, he may have lost his chance.

Caliban sat, defeated. If he didn’t have Y/N, was the throne even worth fighting for? What was a King without his Queen?

He looked up as the door to the cell next to him was thrown open, Sabrina Morningstar forced inside.

“What took you so long, Princess?”

The cocky act didn’t fool the Morningstar, her eyes falling on Caliban and his depressed state.

“What’s the matter with you?”

Caliban couldn’t stop himself. He told Sabrina everything. About how Y/N was here, about how she was probably dead, his voice catching in his throat when he said that last word.

And then the door opened, and Caliban watched as a body was thrown inside. A grunt of pain emanated from it and he moved over to get as close to it as possible. It seemed broken and bloody and all too familiar. He couldn’t help the smile that reached his face when he realised who it was.

Y/N. Not dead after all, thank Satan.

But hurt, badly.

“Is that her?” Sabrina’s voice was merely a whisper, the witch clearly shocked at the state of her opponent’s friend. Caliban didn’t answer, instead threading his hand through the gap in the bars and grabbing Y/N’s. He squeezed it tightly, her eyes opening, a glimmer of that fire still left in them. She tried to talk, but he shushed her.

“It’s alright, Y/N. I’ve got you.”

He was about to say more, interrupted as Pilate came over, demanding that one of the prisoners should be whipped.

“If neither of you are going to volunteer, I’ll just take her back,” he nodded over at Y/N, “She was very talkative, that one. Difficult to extinguish the fire from. But I like a challenge.”

Caliban felt a fury like he had never known. He already thought he had lost Y/N, and he knew that any more torture would most likely make that a reality. He wouldn’t lose her, not now, not ever. If he was supposed to save her, now was the perfect time.

“I’ll take the lashes.”

He looked over at Y/N once again, his hand escaping her grip. He made a promise to himself as she watched him leave with affection in her eyes, that if he survived this, he would ask her to marry him. To be his queen.

But first he had to tell her something. So he did.

“I love you, Y/N.”

CALIBAN MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

[bean-pole-art]

Ed’s Borderlands Fics Masterpost

well finally

here is the masterpost of all of my Borderlands fics posted. most of them are Rhysothy focused to various AUs. I’m gonna update it as I post more but here it is, along with some of my commentary

right from the start big big BIG shoutout to @spoks-illogical-art​, my partner in crime, my biggest inspo, without them honestly most of these fics wouldn’t exist, please check out their amazing art <3

(latest edit - 21/02/2021)

Atlas AU - our main timeline, follows events of Moxxi’s Heist. lots of different concepts and ideas but the core really is Tim moving to Promethea to get help from Rhys. gonna sort em here with posting date, check the ao3 series for the “timeline”

Hypothetically - 2240 words summary: Rhys talks a lot, but usually thinks about it too little.

coffee, cats & monographs - 2880 words summary: “Hey hey, easy. You don’t want to repeat the accident from last week, do you?” Rhys cooed towards the cat and picked her up, just as Timothy instructed him to. Hearing these words, Felicity meowed. “Oh, don’t say that. This is my office and I have the power here,” he answered, carrying her back to his personal space.

Or Timothy's cat pays a visit to Rhys' office in the morning. note: I am a stupid mofo and at this point Tim would also have Loader Bot fkjbfd just imagine hes not mentioned cause hes wandering off, typical LB

Have Faith - 1470 words summary: During the 7 year lockdown at the Handsome Jackpot, Timothy couldn't really have any hope for himself. But maybe on Promethea it could be different. note: sudden feelings while watching JoltzDude139′s stream

Warm Cheeks, Cold Hands - 1170 words summary: Rhys comes home early and wants to say hi to his husband. With no ulterior motive. None at all. note: first fic Ive ever posted where characters are married, actually. fuck it, Rhysothy Real, his name is Rhys Lawrence

the battle (and the aftermath) of the ages - 2970 words summary: In a situation like this everything was possible, they could pull any punches they could think of. Four beasts playing against each other, every single one of them thinking of striking the winning blow.

Or Promethea Squad plays UNO. And then watches a movie. note: I love Promethea Squad with my whole heart

okurimono (贈り物) - 4/4, 17170 words summary: “Not a bomb. Just a device with a message for Rhys. Trust me on that,” this time an emoji of both winking and showing off a tongue [;P] appeared on the surface of Zer0’s helmet. Ah. So they were definitely trying to mess him up. In a way. Unfortunately, he really didn’t have any other options. Almost with a defeat, Timothy took the ECHOrecorder right from their hands and looked around it again. Or Zer0 gives Timothy a peculiar mission. note: my first ever multichapter fic. took me legit abt 8 months to finish but I am absolutely satisfied with this. also the bonus ending. yes

(there is) something I see in you - 8690 words summary: How one Rhys Strongfork met one Timothy Lawrence and how they fell for each other. More or less. note: best to go into this one blind, I swear. dumbest fic Ive ever written and please take this as a recommendation

this world is gonna pull through - 14380 words summary: Timothy really hoped it wasn’t anything important. He had that tendency to forget things easily, even if he tried to fight it. But Rhys kept on smiling and went by his side. So it couldn’t have been that bad. Still dumbfounded, he felt Rhys leaving a kiss right on his cheek.“November 11th? 

That- That seriously doesn’t ring any bells?” Rhys continued, brushing his hands against his shoulders. Or how Timothy spent one of his birthdays. note: also a love letter for Tim but a nicer one I guess kdjfnb dont ask how old is he i have no gdamn idea man

Strawberry Sweet - 3560 words summary: Rhys surprises Timothy with a gift for their date night in.

Happy Mercenary Day, Mr. Lawrence - 4670 words summary: How Timothy spent his first Mercenary Day on Promethea. note: I swear this is the best writer night Ive ever had. Ive written this whole thing in one night on Christmas day, solely on the inspo of that song I linked

Don’t Go Wasting Your Emotion - 4/4, 17080 words summary:  Afterwards, he went around with his usual duties. Getting a quick roundabout from his PA, checking several sectors himself and looking through the thousands of messages already sent to him via ECHOs. Rhys was ready to finally take on the day, yet when he made his way to the office, he saw the unusual envelope right by the edge of his desk. “For Rhys” was written on it. Straightforward enough. Or Rhys gets a letter from a secret admirer. note: another multichapter fic!! this one also took some time and well. its inspired by ABBA songs. cause only I would write a Rhysothy fic inspired by ABBA

Ratchet Effect - 7130 words summary: Knowing just how much overworked Rhys has been, Timothy wants to let them have a nice getaway in Lazy River Land. There's only one problem to overcome - ratch infestation. note: first fic of 2021!! Ive been playing a lot of bl3 suring the writing of it so it has a lot of stuff I had observed both on Promethea and on Jackpot

Reflections - 2250 words summary: Sometimes, Timothy needs a reminder.

Tales AU - second most important timeline. it’s Tales but Tim is a part of the group. sorted chronologically

A Story For Another Day - ongoing, for now -  2/25, 15280 words Tales AU main fic. it’s gonna be a big one

Connection Interrupted - 3240 words summary: With his driving shift finished, Timothy checks up on Rhys and Vaughn's plans.

Completely Hopeless - 1040 words summary: In which Fiona notices that Rhys behaves differently in front of a certain doppelganger.

infinity times infinity times infinity - 3460 words summary: Rhys and Timothy share some dreams and secrets underneath the stars. note: the beautiful combination of Sleeping At Last and Minecraft parodies. I promise it makes sense

reality can be whatever I want - 11420 words summary: “Hey, Tim?” Timothy didn’t even spare him a look, “Are we alone, or is he there with you?” Oh, this definitely won’t be pretty.

After the confession of Handsome Jack's AI in his head and his plan to infiltrate Helios, Rhys needs to set things right with Timothy. Somehow. note: thanosdancing.gif to Backstreet Boys’ “I Want It That Way” 80′s remix and a guest appearance from Ferocity but I cant legally say her name here

still here - 2820 words summary: It all had to go down, after Helios crashed. note: I have...a love/hate relationship with this one kjdfbfg I like it but it’s honestly an alternate ending and doesnt fit within our usual bad ending, so take it with a grain of salt. i ten jebany błąd językowy w summary, kiedy ja go poprawię

together at last - 5590 words summary: It all struck him down in an instant, in this one minute. They were all safe. And they were all alive. Nothing was threatening neither him, nor Timothy, nor Fiona. He could finally breathe out.

They all found each other again. note: I am multitasking most time of my life but I dont relate any other fic to multitasking more than this one. I was honestly doing 10 things at once while writing this dfkjbndf

David AU - this one is a sub AU to Tales AU and the plot is kind of complicated dfjkbfb please check the fic for further explanation

building in curved lines - 22490 words summary: “To be fair, you look terrible. You’re barely standing in one piece and none of your coffees will hold you together for that long,” Lilith paused, seemingly weighing the correct words in her head. “You haven’t really been holding on since… We rescued The Double.” Rhys sighed heavily. Why did she have to be so right about everything. Or how Rhys and Timothy adjust to the reality after the Handsome Jack AI. note: bday gift for Spok, EASILY one of my absolute faves and the longest fic Ive written thus far

outside of AUs - some concepts I play with that are honestly outside any of our concrete timelines/concepts + fics not focused on Rhysothy

Real - 770 words summary: Reconciling with your past is a little easier, when you have someone you love right in your arms. note: first blands fic I’ve ever written. the characterization isn’t really there yet but as a first shot at the game and my kind of “introduction”, I am still satisfied of it

(Un)Familiar Faces - 9620 words summary: Timothy pursed his lips and leaned over the wall a little. He’s had enough of this solitude of closed doppelganger cabinet. Today wasn’t the day for another self-loathing session. Today, he should go off on Helios and do something for himself.

Or Timothy spends the night at a Helios bar. But not as Handsome Jack. And not as Timothy Lawrence either. note: personal favorite of mine, tough love letter to Timothy Lawrence. I have so many fond memories of writing this, including getting drunk out of my mind just like Tim and Rhys here

basics of survival - 2010 words summary: Athena taught Timothy everything he needed to know about survival. Now, it was time to put these skills into use. note: wrote this right before rona outbreak on last day in my dorms. thats all