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wyvernest · 8 months

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BRING ON THE PERV MIGUEL PLSSSSSSS. I NEED IT

not enough perv needy miguel fics out there !!

#not in a creepy way tho #yall said “don't make it problematic” but im not sure if it is or not #anyways yolo #miguel o'hara #asks

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emptymilk-bottle · 10 months

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maybe i subconsciously stopped reading books because they made me sad bc solitaire made me a ridiculously profound type of sad

and tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow is not the same kind of sad but i still feel which is kinda miserable but it’s also still genius (the book) and kinda fun (also the book) but also hollow (still the book) and i’m going insane insane insane

#and this is why you stop reading when you’re past the point that your friends are awake for you to talk abt the books you’re reading #and you know you’ll be stuck thinking and thinking instead of sleeping #anyways yolo #on my tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow reading bs ig don’t mind me #emptymilk thinks

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buckttommy · 1 month

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ok but buck fawning over tommy’s chin, kissing it and complimenting him on it every chance he gets bc he just finds it so cute 😔

i know this is not technically what you asked for, but. well.

"you like... my chin."

there's absolutely no reason for tommy to look as skeptical as he does, if buck is being honest. tommy's face is gorgeous in an old hollywood way. not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, and subsequently perfect because of it.

"well." buck reaches for tommy's smoothie and takes a sip. raspberry vanilla. buck's favorite. god, he wants to marry this man so badly some day. "i mean. the rest of your face has a lot going for it too, but. yeah. it's interesting. it makes your face nice to look at."

he watches tommy's face go from amused to straight up joyful, watches the column of his throat as he tips his head back and he laughs out loud, cheeks flushing pink, and god if that isn't the most beautiful sound buck has ever heard? made even more beautiful because buck knows how hard he had to work for his joy, his ease as he moves through life. tommy kinard is a weightless being and it shows in the way he navigates the world, deliberate in his intention to experience everything about life to its absolute fullest.

it's unfair.

it's unfair for one man to be this handsome.

moments like these, he wants to look around, see if anyone else in the cafe is as aware of tommy's beauty as he is but he always decides against it. number one, he already knows from experience that no one is actually looking at him, at them, and, number two, even if they were, it wouldn't matter. he's all buck's anyway.

tommy shakes his head, laughter quieting. "you're ridiculous. of all the things to lust over."

"oh, okay, laugh it up."

but tommy's eyes are soft and fond, despite the teasing. or, okay, maybe partly because of it. buck's boyfriend is a bit of an asshole, after all, but that's okay. he'll happily be the butt of every single joke if only tommy would keep looking at him like that, keep smiling at him like he's the answer to every question he's ever had.

tommy leans across the table into his space, voice lowering like they're the only two people in the world. he hums, eyes searching buck's face, and leans in, pressing a gentle, brief kiss to his lips.

"god, i love you."

buck's voice goes breathy like it's the first time he's ever heard it. "yeah?"

"mmm," tommy hums again. "i love you, you beautiful..." kiss. "...ridiculous..." kiss... "...hilarious..." kiss. "...kind of odd..." kiss. "deeply intelligent..." kiss. "...overwhelmingly sweet man."

he finishes with one last kiss to buck's mouth, and buck has honest to god butterflies in his stomach when tommy pulls away and sits back in his seat. eight months in and being kissed by him still feels the same as it did the first time—still feels warm, and safe, and beautiful, and loving, and... how did this happen?

how did buck become the guy who gets butterflies in his stomach over a kiss?

"uh." he blinks a couple times to clear his head, to focus his thinking. not like it works, not when tommy is looking at him like he hung all the damn stars in the sky. buck clears his throat. "well. yeah." a beat. "but i'm your idiot."

and it's so cheesy. if given the opportunity, buck probably could have thought of a million different sweet and sexy things to say, but, at the end of the day, it's true. he's tommy's in the same way tommy is his.

tommy rolls his eyes, but he's smiling, his nose scrunching up even as he takes his drink back. he takes a sip from his straw without blinking, swallows the rest of the thing down like he didn't order it specifically because he knows buck likes to steal his drink, and. god. buck is so in love it fucking hurts.

tommy reaches across the table and takes his hand, the last traces of humor smoothed away and replaced with nothing but aching sincerity. "yeah," he says softly. "yeah. you're my idiot."

#hey guys not to be dramatic but i'm fucking losing it a little bit #they are sooooooooo *screams into hands*#anyways #jack answers mail #tv: 911 #bucktommy #my fic #hmm. do i like this? i don't know. but it exists so! whatever! yolo girls! yolo!

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essektheylyss · 1 month

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This was entirely tangential to this post from @utilitycaster which is why this is its own post, but the tags made me think about what feels most compelling about Liliana to me, and it's really because there's such an interesting approach to redemption in terms of the sunk cost fallacy to be had there.

There have been plenty of comparisons between Liliana and Essek, but I don't think they're really situations that can be compared. Essek had done one horrible thing (that was of relevence to the story; it is implied that he's taken other actions that he feels were wrong, but we don't know what those entail nor do the Nein care enough to ask, so per narrative convention, they do not matter for analysis) and was only still involved in it to the extent that he couldn't take it back, so to survive he had to continue covering his tracks. But he was also incentivized to otherwise act in alignment with the group that was not those on behalf of whom he had made terrible choices, because he was still living in the Dynasty, and as such wasn't actively perpetuating those actions beyond the cover up.

Liliana on the other hand is acting with the Vanguard and has been furthering if not personally committing atrocities on their behalf for a number of years, continuing to the present. Like Essek, she believes her involvement in the cause to be a difficult choice that was made for noble reasons, and now can't see a way out. But she is also relieved to be told to stay, though at the point that they discuss her leaving, she is alone and outside the immediate range of contact or oversight from the Vanguard. It seems reasonable that she could disappear with a decent headstart, and perhaps become untraceable quickly enough to be safe from anyone following. With this context, returning to the Vanguard with the intention of feeding information to the opposition feels like the riskier choice, but crucially it is the devil she knows.

I actually liken this more to Cassandra de Rolo than Essek. Cassandra was manipulated against her brother by the Briarwoods, but this was also spurred by having watched Percy seemingly leave her for dead. There are legitimate reasons why the Briarwoods, as the people who rescued her and then kept her alive for many years, are the easier option in which to place her trust. She knows what she's getting from that vantage point and how to handle it. She doesn't inherently have faith that someone she only knew as a young and helpless child, who ran from the hardships she's faced, would have the strength or willingness to do what she has found necessary for survival.

I think that Liliana's actions are more willful, not least because she was not a child nor in mortal peril when she joined the Vanguard, but she sees herself as having made difficult choices when only faced with difficult options, and I do think they have been difficult. She didn't want to leave her family; she doesn't want to hurt the young Ruidusborn under her care; she is probably genuinely sorry that innocent people were considered a necessary sacrifice for what she sees as the greater good. It is psychologically taxing to feel as though one is always picking between bad options, which is a significant contributing factor for why people buy into a sunk cost for so long. And over time, those hard decisions become easier, because you know what to expect from the outcome. Though Liliana is well aware that she might be killed for a misstep among the Vanguard, she already knows how to act to maintain their favor, but how she might be received on Exandria by those fighting the Vanguard, even with the Hells vouching for her, is anyone's guess.

This is a very real reason why people remain in cults and struggle to push back against this kind of conditioning: because the decision to leave feels more immediately perilous than the decision to stay. (On a certain level making these kinds of choices and actions habitual is a fundamental basis behind a lot of military conditioning.) And if you are acting in the interests of your own survival, but that survival comes at the cost of that of countless others who have not, in fact, made any threat or harm against you to begin with, then is the nature of your survival morally defensible?

This analysis isn't a question of whether Liliana will commit to her role as double agent and turn fully against the Vanguard, or even which one of these is a "better" story; this is about what the story might say if she doesn't. Yes, she might commit to a different path than the one she's on and make an effort to redeem herself, but it is also a perfectly coherent and interesting story if she doesn't.

#sometimes it really feels like people just. pick a character name out of a hat #and then decide that that character must get what the person feels they deserve regardless of the rest of the existing text #instead of like... considering the text for the story that has already been told and what it might still say from that vantage point #cr meta #liliana temult #essek thelyss #cassandra de rolo #critical role #anyway do not know admittedly how coherent this is but I gotta finish up my work day so I'm posting it. yolo

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lxkeeeee · 8 months

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—scaramouche x fem! reader

fanart by @MNCE_o at twt

“Soulmates? What a load of bullshit.”

“I do not need a man and I am perfectly fine without ever meeting him.”

Spoiler alert: they really wanted to meet each other.

—two people were destined to meet each other the problem is... They're from completely two different timelines.

His countdown timer on his wrist -1,920,000 hours and hers is 1,920, 000 hours. They didn't have any hope in meeting each other, thinking it was a cruel joke made by fate itself... If only they knew.

CHAPTERS:

CH. 0 — PROLOGUE

CH. 1 — LITERALLY FELL IN YOUR ARMS

CH. 2 — IT IS NICE TO FINALLY MEET YOU, SOULMATE

CH. 2 — IT IS NICE TO FINALLY MEET YOU, SOULMATE (HER POINT OF VIEW)

CH. 3 — HOME SWEET HOME

CH. 4 — GETTING TO KNOW EACH OTHER

CH. 5 — FEELINGS

CH. 6 — LOVERBOY

CH. 7 — DOMESTIC STUFF

CH. 8 — WE'RE NOT MARRIED... YET.

CH. 9 — MOVING OUT

CH. 10 — MOVING IN

CH. 11 — I'LL TAKE CARE OF YOU

CH. 12 — SHIT... I'M SO TOUCH STARVED

MORE CHAPTERS TBA...

Chapter titles are subject to change.

Plot is fast paced, love at first sight, soulmate au.

©lxke 2023

PLAYLIST | CHARACTERS | CH. 0

taglist: open<3 (colored means I couldn't tag you 🥹)

@vxcmx @k1an4a @lazy-sanns @ulquiorraswife @luciledreamz @magica-ren @featuredtofu @sketcheeee @im-the-ruler-here @scarasbaby @veekoko @zxdksimpo @beriiov @kiokiee @ylapsha45 @alatusorrow @c3rtifiedsimp @lyzisbitchingagain @xtobefreex @ayuaraye @rororomi @sheraffim @neesachan

#—SOULMATES? WHAT A LOAD OF BS [MASTERLIST] ©lxke

#god i hoped i did the math right #lmao #idk lmao #i spent so much time overthinking if im doing the math right #or if my grammar was okay #cuz i was having doubt on which one to use #between -44858 days ago or 44858 days ago #and some how it ended up with me overthinking what should the number in his wrists would be #anyways #i decided to yolo it #new fic I'll probably not finish #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche headcanons #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche angst #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche #—SOULMATES? WHAT A LOAD OF BS— [MASTERLIST] ©lxke

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redamanccys · 2 months

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jess mariano rant

FIRST AND FOREMOST can we talk about how no one remembers that jess's mom literally sent him to an uncle he'd never met because she "couldn't handle him" and how he was just expected to say it was it is and move the fuck on like he didn't just leave his home, friends, and everything he ever knew and im speaking from experience because I've moved like 6 times and hated my parents each time for it because it's the worst experience and ESPECIALLY when everyone in the town already hates you because you look a certain way and he was fucking 17 like guys any teenager with family issues would act like that tf?? and he didn't even do anything THAT bad because i know for sure if rory and Lane had stolen money from taylor for shits and giggles lorelai would've defended her and SPEAK OF THE FUCKING DEVIL lorelai hated jess so much for absolutely no reason other than the fact that (AGAIN A TEENAGER WITH TRAUMA) said something mean to the queen of stars hollow and obviously we all know that she hated him because she WAS him but even that i dont agree with 100% because jess had it so so SO incredibly worse, like no father, mother who married so many guys and divorced and lost all of their money and house which probably made them homeless A LOT of times like lorelai obviously had family issues but jess had it worse so she can't really act like she gets him because she doesn't.

and everyone likes to bring up the fact that he got mad when she wouldn't have sex with him and he literally didn't???? what show are you watching tf and his character development UGH ITS SO GOOD the high school drop out whom known has ever believed in is probably the most successful person in his whole family and that's why ladies and gentlemen (i still have so much more to say but i cant write it because my brain is faster than I type) jess mariano is the best character and best everything in the show

#jess mariano #rory gilmore #gilmore girls #lorelai gilmore #liz danes #luke danes #literati #truncheon books #I love jess mariano #i wish men like him existed #anyway #idk what else to tag #bye bye #I dont think anyone is gonna read this #but #whatever #yolo

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sadisthetic · 7 months

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i get into hi fi rush and then proceed to make the most TOXIC ASS hfr oc. this is seltzer (he/they). he is Hashtag Problematic.

hes a precanon character who i created for the main purpose of exploring chais backstory which is FREE REAL ESTATE and subject chai to wretched things. making up a reason why chai is such a lonely ass independent guy at the start of the game AND SELF INDULGING AT THE SAME TIME (i love emotional whump). seltzer is red flag ass emotionally manipulative motherfucker. lmao

he is uhh. chais ex-"friend" that chai met at a venue during a local band performance in college. in quotes bc its a kinda complicated one sided deal. hes in a band called acid scale thats just a group of friends fucking around with instruments. their skills are mediocre and their music is DOGSHIT

somehow chai ends up hanging out with them. it doesnt end well

more sketches of the bastard below

#they suck soooooooooooooooo much i love seltzer but tbh if i ever get a callout post written for me hes 100% goin on there as evidence #bc of the shit i wrote for his and chais story #which did half for the purpose of making him the worst person alive and the other half is bc im a sadist. and also im lusting over chai #anyways hes nonbinary but like he uses he like 90% of the time #tbh im worried bout sharing that story and being attacked for it but its like. man. yolo. ppl get paid to write worse for television #im just a dude on the internet.#either way ill do it tomorrow #hi fi rush oc #my art #my ocs #hi fi rush

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wraithsoutlaws · 3 months

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TITLE: Perfect Drug CHAPTER ONE: Jawbreaker WORD COUNT: 4,309 PAIRING: Dagger/Dum Dum CW: Light violence, gore mention The story of how two fucked up guys become one fucked up couple.

The sky changed colors in the city. The endless scroll of neon gave it an artificial glow, and from the first moment he crossed the desert line, Dagger had resented it. Nothing looked real. Nothing was–not the food, the music. Certainly not the people. He found himself looking up as he drove further into it’s clutches, searching for a sliver of sky that felt familiar, but the only thing he found was a thinly veiled layer of bullshit. Northside was different, though no less oppressive. The smokestacks kept the air murky, and no matter how many times he blinked or re-calibrated his optics, he couldn’t quite clear his vision of the red haze that defined it. But unlike Night City, it took pride in it’s own ugly. And he liked that.

The All Foods factory sat like an icon at the center of it all, more mythical to the locals than even the crumbs of Arasaka littering the district. Dagger stood outside with a cigarette, gazing into it’s shuttered maw.

A week had passed since he found his way to the building for the first time, toting a severed head in one hand, and a duffel of recovered Militech cargo in the other. He had taken both from a smoldering warzone in Sierra Sonorra where two behemoths fought their last battle; a cadre of Maelstrom gangoons and a unit of corpo dogs. He could have taken the wreckage back for the Wraiths. The gear would have fetched a pretty enny, and the head of a Milietech sergeant would make a lovely hood ornamented for his Quadra–but Dagger never cared for money, and he had plenty of heads already.

He brought the cargo home to Northside instead, head in hand like a peace offering, still bleeding fresh after decapitation. He wanted a deal, not a payday. Something worth more than a shiny new car, or a pair of genuine leather boots, and after one long blurry fucking night, he got one.

The Wraiths would protect Maelstrom’s interests in the Badlands and the ‘borgs would give them leverage in the city, pushing to wipe Sixth Street from Santo Domingo. Dagger would move between them, lending his skills to one while extending his power in the other.

In the end, he'd puppet them both.

His mama always said to dream big.

He pressed at a dwindling bruise over his ribcage as he double checked for his smokes in his jacket pocket. Each breath came with a dull ache that hadn’t quite quelled from that night, even a week later. He’d paid his price for admission. He could still feel the wreckage in his bones as he stood at the entrance of the garage, cigarette half smoked already, waiting for an answer at the door. The security camera at the edge of the roof peered down at him, it’s blinking red light a mimic of the trademark optics that were watching him from inside. And they were watching him. Making him wait, though they were the very ones who had set the meet. When he glared up at the lens, he could feel them on the other side.

Another minute passed. He threw his cigarette down, banging a fist to the rusted metal with impatience. After a moment of waiting he considered going around to the intercom, but it felt too much like defeat. He knocked again instead, kicking with a steel tipped boot for good measure and flicking another glare up to the camera.

The noise must have worked. The door swung open with a growl, sudden enough it nearly took an inch off his nose. Before he could blink, the front end of a revolver shoved itself against the scar on his cheek, forcing his back to the wall with its presence. Seven eyes peered over the muzzle, a shiny chrome scowl beneath them. Dagger’s fist moved on instinct, nestled now against the underside of Dum Dum’s chin where the skin still felt human. The steel claws in the chassis of his hand inched in the sheaths between his knuckles, hungry for a drop of blood. They stood still, entwined in each other’s violence, neither one ready to budge.

“Keep that gun in my face any longer and I’ll get real acquainted with your fleshy bits.” He wasn’t sure which lens he should look at, or which ones were looking at him. His icy gaze settled on the ones that looked most like eyes, though he couldn’t read them. The tip of his claws met skin, just slightly. Enough bite to prove he wasn’t lying.

Dum Dum didn’t sweat it.

“You think your trigger is quicker than mine?”

“Might be fun to find out.”

The sound that came from his throat could have been a laugh. A moment later, Dum Dum drew the gun back and slid it into the waistband of his pants. Slowly, Dagger followed suit, letting his hand fall away with a tinge of disappointment. A click of his tongue.

“Scared?”

“My bullet would rip through your meatpan before your chrome even touched me,” Dum Dum said. He sounded sure, the weight of his optics nearly prying Dagger apart, scanning his hardware in bemusement. He wouldn’t find much, except maybe that his assessment was correct. Which begged the question: why not pull the trigger?

Dagger grinned.

“You gonna invite me inside?”

Dum Dum didn’t answer, turning a corner toward the street without looking back at him. “Nothing in there for you.”

“Is that right?” Dagger pulled his cigarettes from his jacket and lit one as he followed. A busted up Chevillon was parked on the corner, garish Maelstrom colors splattered across the rusted paint like a badge of honor. Ugly, like everything else around it. He smiled. “Taking me out to pasture then?”

Smoke slithered from his lips as they walked.

“You wanna play with the big dogs you’re gonna have to work like a bitch.” Dum Dum stopped at the car, and spared him an indecipherable look. “That means you do what I say, when I say it, how I say it. If I tell you to lick the shit off my boots you better fucking get on your knees and do it, yeah? Piss me off and it’s bye bye with a bullet. We’ll sell your meat to the Scavs without a second thought.”

Dagger raised a brow, amusement flickering in his eyes as he took another drag from his smoke. “My god, I think I can see Royce’s hand up your ass using your mouth like a little puppet. Don’t you wanna be a real boy?”

Dum Dum looked tough, but Dagger had seen enough already to know that he folded for the big man as easy as paper. He half expected the gun again, but to his surprise, he only saw a smile on the other man’s face–teeth that looked too human to belong to him. The tension in his shoulders seemed to drop.

“You are one stupid motherfucker.”

He almost sounded impressed.

Dagger stared him down with the same grin, head tilting. Anyone else, he might skin them alive for the assertion but Dum Dum could be useful. No doubt more than any of the other rusted lugnuts lurking in the gang who’d still be more than happy to kill him. If he wanted this to work out, he’d need someone watching his back, and he’d already proved he wouldn’t pull the trigger.

Dum Dum slid into the driver’s seat and gestured for Dagger to go around. He wasn’t thrilled about playing passenger, his own car parked down the block, but he decided not to push it. He didn’t know his way around the city yet, let alone wherever the fuck they were headed. Or why.

He climbed into the Chevillon, choosing to play nice, a decision quickly waning as he waited for an explanation that never came. He blew smoke toward Dum Dum, a juvenile attempt to get his attention as the engine turned over.

“Got a problem, princess?” Dum Dum asked without looking. At least his head didn’t move.

Dagger leaned back in his seat. “Just wondering what the fuck I’m doing here.”

“You’re the one who knocked.”

“Funny.”

The car pulled onto the street.

“Got a pick-up.” The flat drone of his voice gave away his own annoyance in the silence. “And I wasn’t bullshitting before. Do as you’re told and we won’t have a problem.”

Dagger rolled down his window to vent the smoke from his cigarette. “Pick-up? And here I was hoping for a little fun. Ain’t you lot known for your violence? No offense but thats a waste of my talent and I’m keen to believe it’s a waste of yours too.”

“Royce wants to know you can follow orders. You might be hot shit to those desert dogs but you’re a long way from the top out here.”

Something in the gravel of his tone indicated a warning, but Dagger flicked it off with the ash from his cig. He glanced at him from the corner of his eyes, watching the city blur past the tinted glass. Northside was less colorful than the rest of Night City, all smoke and concrete. In a way, it reminded him of home–the badlands, an endless sprawl of sun bleached dirt, harsh and rigid. Vibrant in its decay. They bore their similarities alright. He could smell fire in the air. A laugh lodged itself in his throat as he finally looked over.

“So that’d make you what, then? The babysitter?”

A grunt. There might have been humor in it. Or a threat.

“You should count yourself lucky. Anyone else prolly woulda shot you by now.”

Dagger didn’t doubt it for a second. Dum Dum was different from the rest, and somehow just the same. He followed orders, and crumbled like soggy paper for the top dog. Out of fear or loyalty, he couldn’t tell yet, but he lacked the self-respect to see that Royce would throw him out as soon as he wasn’t useful. He wondered what might happen if those strings pulled taut. If something sharp happened by to whittle them down.

Dum Dum’s voice caught him by surprise.

“I’m actually impressed you’re still walking. Didn’t think you’d show up after that beating last week.”

“That right?” Dagger said, casually flipping down the visor ahead of him and examining his face in the two inch mirror. The bruise beneath his eye had faded from plum to a brown rot and for a moment he could feel the impact of the metal punch that knocked him on his ass again. It wasn’t the only one. His body was littered, like the canvas of an old painter–splashes of color hemorrhaging against his skin. He knew there was a cracked rib, probably a concussion, too. A few busted teeth, and more. Welcoming gifts from Maelstrom. It was his own suggestion, a last ditch effort to get close to the gang without having chrome shoved up his ass. An initiation plucked from his smuggling days. Each member got a single hit. If he was still alive by the end of it, he’d get in.

And Dagger always got in, smiling and spitting blood. He’d do it again just to prove that he could.

“Hell, I thought that left hook from Lars might kill you.” Dum Dum laughed.

Dagger flipped the visor closed. “You kiddin’? My Daddy hit me harder for stealing a cigarette when I was eight years old.”

“You were prolly just a pussy back then.”

A grin cut across his lips as naturally as the sun cresting over the cityscape. “Well, he had a harder swing than you, at least.”

“Makes sense.” The car turned a tight corner and Dum Dum’s head tilted toward him for the first time. “Considerin’ I pulled my punch.”

Dagger met those empty red lenses with a raised brow. “The fuck you did.”

The crack of his own teeth rang out in his ears again, as if that chrome fist was crashing into his face all over. He could still remember his seven eyes watching him as he stumbled back, spitting blood and enamel in his face. He tongued the empty space on his bottom gum where the molar used to sit. Dum Dum had extracted it more seamlessly than the world’s best dentist ever could.

Pulled his punch.

Dagger scoffed.

Dum Dum didn’t show any sign of humor. His silence said it all.

“And why the fuck would you do that?”

A pause. And then finally a smile.

“‘Cause the harder we hit you, the louder you laughed. Didn't wanna give you the satisfaction.”

Dagger’s face fell, as expressionless as the red lenses in front of him, which seemed now to burn holes through his chest in the silence. He should cut them from his skull, but the feeling passed at the sight of a smile on Dum Dum’s lips.

“Fuckin’ lunatic,” he said, somewhere between affection and dismay.

Dagger took it for a compliment. He grinned, and a bruise sang triumph beneath his skin.

The car pulled off the street beside a painted wall that looked nearly identical to every other street corner in Northside. Dagger could find his way through every small vein of dusty road across the Badlands with his eyes closed but ask him to distinguish between one block or the next within the industrial sprawl of the district and he’d be lost. He pressed his forehead against the window and looked up. Not even the sky could help him. The shadow of the city all but smothered it.

Dum Dum cut the engine.

Wrecked cars littered the crowded alleyway where they sat now, nothing but skeletal remains, picked clean by the vultures. But there was one ahead of them, a black van that stuck out among the rest. The pick-up, if he had to wager.

“What are we waiting for?” he asked, his cigarette almost nothing but ash. He finally flicked it out the window.

Dum Dum didn’t answer. He studied the van ahead of him in the quiet, and after a moment Dagger pushed his optics to scan it too. Standard. No heat signature inside, though there was something stored in the back, a chemical signature he couldn’t get a specific read on. Drugs, more than likely. Of course it was. He had heard the ‘strommers had their own brand of shit. The kind with enough kick to push past the thirty pounds of chrome in their head.

“Something the matter with it?” On instinct, Dagger looked in the rearview, scanned the surrounding area. A flash of light flickered somewhere behind them and disappeared. He waited for it to happen again, but he saw nothing.

“Gadge ain’t here,” Dum Dum said, tone flat. Once more unreadable.

“Taking a leak?”

A grunt. He leaned back in the seat, hand dropping down to the revolver wedged between his seat and the middle console. He flicked his head forward, toward the van. “Well, go on, bitch boy. Check it out.”

Dagger’s eyes narrowed, but he pushed back the urge to tell him to fuck off. He lit another cigarette on the way out. The street was quiet, though somewhere a few blocks down a siren echoed off the smokestacks. He paused when he reached the back of the van, head turning over his shoulder. There was nothing here. Nobody in sight beside those seven glowing eyes behind the glass, and still the hair rose on the back of his neck.

No Gadge. No blood. No struggle. So why did he have a bad feeling? He focused his attention back to the van as Dum Dum waved a hand at him impatiently. Another quick scan told him the same information before he finally reached for the handle and pulled the bed open. A creak of metal cracked through his ears.

It almost deafened the gunshot.

Dagger ducked, dropping low without thought. His cigarette fell to the ground half burned, mocking him as another bullet riccochetted against the back of the van. His first thought was Dum Dum. Royce had changed his mind on the deal, ordered his execution. A quiet hit didn’t sound like his style, and Dagger was almost disappointed he wouldn’t get to see the ugly bastard one more time just to call him a fucking pussy to his face, but a moment later he could hear the ‘borg’s static voice yelling at him from the car to get the fuck up.

He stayed low, unable to pinpoint the direction of the gunshot, and made his way back to the passenger’s side of the Chevillon.

The engine sputtered to life at the same time as the van in front of him. He crawled inside just in time to witness the driverless van crash through a charred Mackinaw to the next street over.

“Fuck!” Dum Dum yelled, flooring the pedal before Dagger could get his foot pulled in all the way. “Shit’s hacked. Gonk’s don’t know who they’re messing with.”

He rammed through the same debris as the van but caught a harsh edge of metal, and the Chevillon stalled for a moment before struggling through. The ringing in Dagger’s ears hadn’t stopped, and he only realized his hand was bleeding when he reached for his third smoke.

“Hack means their close.”

Dagger rolled the window down and stuck his head out, catching the stale air of Northside in a suffocating wind. He could see the van ahead of them like a black smear, but it wasn’t the van he was interested in. Quickhack on a vehicle was useful, but it had drawbacks. One being proximity. Had to be close or you lost connection, even with boosted gear.

A small Hatchback swung suddenly out from a sidestreet, narrowly missing their car as it sped past. Dum Dum swerved and lost a foot of paint on a fire hydrant in attempt to keep steady. Dagger scanned it as it followed track with the van, spitting chooh2 to catch up. Two signatures inside. A runner.

He ripped the gun from Dum Dum’s seat and pulled himself halfway out the window to take aim. He shot quickly and near blind, bullet lost in the wind as the chase veered left.

“Fuckin’ shoot steady,” Dum Dum yelled over at him.

“Drive fuckin’ steady,” Dagger snapped, and this time he held his breath as he aimed for the speeding car. A shot came back at him in response and he ducked back into the window before firing again. The windshield spiderwebbed but the car stayed true, zipping through a line of traffic as they headed into a busier part of the district. A horn blared beside him. The hatchback disappeared between two trucks, and Dum Dum struggled on the wheel, crashing into the edge of a turning car and nearly throwing the gun from Dagger's slick, bloody grasp when he shot again.

He couldn’t track where the bullet hit, but he could tell that it missed.

With a growl, Dagger reached over for the wheel.

“Switch me places.” It was a command more than a question, but Dum Dum didn’t protest. He ripped the gun from Dagger’s hand as Dagger pushed his leg over to the gas pedal and shimmied across the seat in an awkward dance, climbing over him without slowing the vehicle until they both settled into their new positions.

Dum Dum took aim as naturally as Dagger did the wheel. He was no stranger to this, or to the electricity running through his chest as he gripped the wheel knuckle tight, grin spreading over his lips.

The tight streets were no match for an open road, but it got his blood pumping all the same.

He could barely make out the back of the car up ahead, but he could see the rear light explode as Dum Dum fired beside him, leaving red glass sparkling on the pavement like blood. Another shot bellowed, and the hatchback veered wildly, nearly toppling sideways as it made a sharp turn.

Dagger followed, cutting the same corner with the ease of sharpened steel. He couldn’t see the van further up, but he locked his optics onto the car. Blood splattered the window, and he knew that Dum Dum had hit one of them inside. The engine groaned as he pushed it further. The Chevillon didn’t have the same gumption as his Quadra. He could feel the waiver in her gait, but they were close now. Dum Dum felt it too. He braced his arm on the roof. One good shot is all they’d need.

Dagger seamlessly crossed over the center line, taking the opposite lane to blow past several cars that separated them from their goal. Traffic sped by, so close it rocked the car, but he didn’t flinch.

One. Good. Shot.

Dum Dum fired.

Blood sprayed the windshield.

The hatchback veered suddenly into a passing car, which came to a skidding stop, halting the traffic behind it and keeping Dagger from passing back over into the right lane. His mind raced, and on instinct he took a quick left to avoid collision, and then another.

Dum Dum screamed in his ear, but the words were deafened from wind, the ringing, the sirens. Neon lights burned together, flashing against his corneas.

“Wrong fuckin’ way!” He heard finally.

The streets grew narrower, and then he understood.

He could smell the ocean.

Northside’s warehouses were a shadow in the rearview as they headed toward the bay into Kabuki. Tyger territory. They had crossed the district line.

Dum Dum reached for the wheel in a last ditch effort to change course. The momentum of the turn threw them upward, tires leaving the ground. The car spun uncontrollably, flipped, crashing through the barricade on the side of the road in a explosion of crunching metal.

He could see the ocean.

A smear of open blue that could match the sky his heart yearned for. It was beautiful.

Almost.

And it hit like a fucking rock.

His vision blacked for a moment before the water caved in around them. Slowly, then all at once. He barely had time to take in a lungful of air. Kicking at the door wildly, he swam away from the wreckage as the sea pulled them under. His gaze shot upward, searching once more for the sky to lead him. He followed the light up and up, chest starting to ache, until finally he found it.

Dagger gasped as he breached, shaking water from his eyes. He didn’t recognize the city around him, but he spotted a dock nearby. He swam toward it, then stopped. Looked back. The only remains of the Chevillon were petering bubbles at his back, and smooth water beside that. There wasn’t any sign of Dum Dum. By the look of him, he’d sink as quick as the car.

He glanced between the dock and the bubbles and back again.

All that fucking chrome…

Walking back to All Foods without the drugs and their sergeant at arms might earn himself a spot in that industrial microwave that Maelstrom liked to boast. Dum Dum was the only one who didn’t want to kill him, after all.

“Fuck.”

He spit water then took another breath and dived.

The car left a trail like ink in the murky water. Dagger clawed toward it, dragging himself further down into the dark depths. Day turned to night. The city was different here, peaceful, and if not for the pounding in his ears, quiet.

The distant red glare of those eyes shined like a beacon further down. He followed them like the north star, pushing himself to go faster. Dum Dum kicked despite himself, maybe instinct, maybe panic, but his weight worked against him, pulling him down quicker. Dagger pushed harder, reached further. Dum Dum finally noticed him, lenses fixed and unwavering, a calm coming over him as he finally got close enough to grab. Dagger heaved upward, working against the ocean’s cold grasp and the anchor like weight dragging him down. His chest began to burn, and the sky still looked so dark above them.

He considered letting go, eyes squeezed tight, angry ‘ganic lungs ready to burst.

And then he could breathe again.

He reached blindly for the dock ladder, trying hard not to heave. Dum Dum climbed up beside him, still as a corpse.

“Fucking gonk shit,” he muttered.

Dagger almost didn’t catch it over the sound of his panting. He laid flat on his back, taking in the welcome blue above him. He could finally see a break in the cityscape, clouds sneaking in at the edge of his vision.

“Quite a fuckin’ thank you,” Dagger said without taking his eyes from above.

“Oxygen reserves. Could sit down there all day.”

He sat up slowly, running a hand through wet, matted hair. “All the good it’d do you. Be a pile of rust by the time they found you. If they found you.”

Dum Dum laughed. Short, quick static. Somehow it sounded genuine.

“And I’m sure you did that outta the kindness of your heart.”

“What fuckin’ heart?” He said flat, patting down his pockets for his cigarettes. He pulled the pack out, sopping wet. He didn’t bother trying to light one before he tossed them into the bay with a sigh. “Owe me some fucking smokes.”

Dum Dum opened his mouth to speak, but the words never made it. He lifted his head, and though he couldn’t see exactly, Dagger knew he was looking past him. A gun cocked at the back of his head. Cold barrel against his skull. He clenched his jaw, and turned to see a woman he didn’t recognize staring down at him behind glass eyes.

His automatic translator picked up her words better than his ears.

“Welcome to Kabuki, bitch.”

#cyberpunk 2077 #oc: dagger #dum dum #x: perfect drug #my fic tag #well i fussed over this too much so im just gonna say yolo and post it #that also means i have to start on the second chapter. hm.#anyways..........its been a long time coming dklsajfdlsa #linked the song i got the title from for soundtrack purposes if it suits you UwU #sad to tell you all that cockroach won't appear until ch.2 despite being in the above image v.v #false advertising im sorry

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eryanlainfa · 4 months

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Just had stupid valentine day card ideas for Vat7k- how much can I speedrun this to post anything before the day end-?

#i am shooting myself in the foot i know but fkfkdkdkdk lmao yolo i guess-#i am not finishing the other drawing for today anyway so i can draw other things-#..... yeah it should be fine-#eryanbles

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