#so there's no time to fuss over it anyway

[patricia-taxxon]

I want to set the record straight regarding a certain OST for a short film that should be coming out later this year, because one of its directors is making false and hurtful claims about me and my business ethic. After he made a prominent appearance on a drama stream about me & wrote a section of my callout doc, I told him that I wasn't interested in dragging him publicly, but that has felt more impossible as time goes on and I realize the extent of his misrepresentation. I had a vision of this film being able to release quietly in spite of everything, but I don't think that can happen, and I fully expect him to try and hurt my chances at further work.

In 2023, between techdogs 4 and 5, I worked on music for a then good friend's student film. It is by far the most technically difficult job I've ever had, and I did it for free. Now, before you get mad, this is partially (mostly) my fault. I never negotiated a price beforehand, and when I found out partway through that I was working for free, I let it slide for fear of being disruptive. If I was asked to quote a price today, it would have been approximately 900 USD. The work was a hellish and grueling experience, technical in ways I'd never been prepared for, and I sorely regret not putting my foot down, because I was hollowed out by the end of it.

A big portion of his callout against me is concerned with, bafflingly, my decision not to contribute my own money to the film, which at that point would have been a negative paycheck. I didn't pay the thirty dollars that I would've had to pitch in for the film to be screened, and I considered that a fine payment for the nine hundred dollars of work they got from me. He goes on to write that I'm rich anyways, I pay hundreds of dollars on album art (business expenses that I know I'll make back when the music is released) and "furry porn," because apparently if I am occasionally willing to drop a pretty penny on a pleasure purchase then I should simply be compelled to pay them randomly for things I hold no stake in and that I signed no contract for. He also mentions that I paid them later for the DCP file at another screening, of course by that point I had gotten the vibe that they were wanting for me to drop money on their project, so I did, giving the post-hoc justification that "i guess in this case I also care about the film sounding good." He writes "well I guess that was something she deemed worthy" without realizing the implication would then be that he did not see my own work as worthy.

Let me make this clear, this is like if a voice actor worked on my video game for free as a favor with no expectations of royalties, and then I asked them to help me pay to get the game on steam. This is presented along reheated second, third, fourthhand accounts of sexual misconduct.

And before we move on, to the claim that one album artist had to wait for years before receiving payment, this is true. I did forget to pay one artist, and only found out after their assistant contacted me years later, where I then paid six times the asking price as a late fee. I was commissioning over ten album arts every year, and as of now, this is the only time I have made this mistake.

It is impossible for me to refute his claims about the personal time we spent together in Omaha, as it would just be my word against his. I will just say that he should know the omitted reasons that I have grown to feel I was disposed, discarded, and taken for granted by him, and how he has nothing to do with why I hold those memories at that film festival so highly. He also does the classic thing where he positions allowing me to pick the movie in the evening as this favor he did, making me unknowingly rack up debt for a bargain I never consented to.

During all this, he has expressed an existential fear of being harassed for going public about me, and for this reason I want to say that I still hope that this film can be released without a fuss, but his continued participation in a harassment campaign against me has done far more to tarnish his reputation than I ever could. If you really cared about your image, pressure Crim to re-record that drama stream without your embarrassing petty grievances in it & delete your testimony from the callout doc. Thanks.

[fanbasetwo]

Ꮺ . , THROUGH UPS & DOWNS , L.CY !

PAIRING: bf ! anton × gf ! afab reader. SYNOPSIS: you always managed to pull yourself up out of breakdowns or sadder parts of life but you never once imagined someone creating a fuss to take care of you through your downs. [REQUESTED] . . . . . . GENRE: #comfort core, fic. WORD COUNT: 1k [LIBRARY]

You and Anton have been together for years, long enough to trust him with everything—well, almost everything. Moving in together felt right at the time, but lately, you’ve been questioning whether that was a mistake. Some days are good, some are bad, but the worst ones? The ones like today? Those are the hardest because you don’t even have the energy to pretend you’re okay.

Maybe it’s the fact that no matter how many job applications you send, no one seems to want you. Maybe it’s that sinking feeling that you’re not just struggling—you’re a burden. No, scratch that. You are a burden. Full stop.

Still, you push yourself to keep going. Just one foot in front of the other. You grip the door handle, take a shaky breath, and step inside.

Anton is there, standing in the middle of the living room like he’s been waiting for you. His face lights up when he sees you, but that stupidly proud smile of his only makes everything worse. How the hell can he still look at you like that when you’re contributing nothing?

“Hey…” His voice is soft, but his brows pinch together in concern. “You look—uh, kind of out of it. You okay?”

And that’s it. That’s the last fucking straw.

Your bag slips from your fingers, hitting the floor with a dull thud as you practically throw yourself at him. Your arms wrap around his torso, your face burying into his chest as the sobs hit you full force. Ugly, shaking, can’t-breathe kind of crying.

Anton doesn’t even flinch. No awkward hesitation, no stiff pat on the back like he’s comforting a coworker or some shit. His arms immediately close around you, holding you tight like he’s physically trying to keep you from falling apart.

“Hey, hey… Shh, I got you,” he soothes, rubbing slow circles into your back. “It’s okay. I’m here. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

You want to believe him. You really do. But all you can focus on is how your breathing is coming in short, shaky bursts, how your fingers are gripping his shirt like he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to the ground.

What fcks you up the most, though? The fact that he doesn’t care. Not in a bad way, but in a way that makes your chest ache. You’re standing here, falling apart—messy, broken, so not okay—and yet, he’s holding you like you’re still worth something. Like he’d do this a thousand times over if it meant you didn’t have to go through it alone.

And maybe… just maybe… that’s enough for now.

“C’mere, let’s sit and talk, yeah? Nothing’s wrong, especially when I’m here.”

Anton doesn’t wait for you to agree—he just scoops you up like you weigh nothing, and you cling to him like a damn koala, arms wrapped tight around his shoulders. He settles onto the couch, pulling you onto his lap, but before you can bury yourself back into his chest, he gently tilts your face up, wiping away your tears with his thumb. Not that it does much, since they just keep coming.

You sniffle, taking a shaky breath. “I can’t find a job… And I don’t want to stay financially dependent on you. I don’t want to be a burden. Everybody’s so mean. Jiah won’t even talk to me anymore because she thinks it’s embarrassing to be seen with me.” Your voice cracks, but you force the words out anyway. “Are you… Are you embarrassed of me too?”

For a moment, he just looks at you, his hands steady on your waist, his eyes soft but serious. And then, instead of answering, he leans in and kisses you. Slow, deep, like he’s trying to get you to shut up in the most effective way possible. His lips move against yours in a way that makes your heart stumble in your chest, and when he finally pulls back, you’re breathless and blinking at him like an idiot.

Anton smirks a little, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “First of all,” he starts, his voice firm but warm, “just because you aren’t getting a job right now doesn’t mean you’re dumb. It just means there aren’t enough of them. That’s not your fault. Second, you are not a burden to me. But since I know how much this is bothering you, why don’t you look for something temporary? Editing, content writing—there are tons of online jobs that could work until you figure out what you really want to do.”

He pauses, letting that sink in before he continues. “And Jiah? That’s her problem, not yours. She should be embarrassed of herself for acting like that. I’m just proud that my baby spoke up about it.”

It’s a lot. A mix of advice, comfort, and pure tonie logic, but somehow, it actually helps. You feel… lighter. Like maybe the weight on your chest isn’t crushing you as much.

And just when you think you couldn’t feel more relieved, he adds, “Besides, I’m gonna marry you anyway, whether you’re ‘successful’ or not, no matter what other people think.”

You blink at him. “Wait, what?”

Anton just grins, pressing a kiss to the top of your head like he didn’t just casually say something that could actually give you a mini heart attack. “You heard me.”

Your heart is a mess—pounding, fluttering, tripping over itself—but his hands are steady as he cups your face, wiping away the lingering tears with his thumbs. His touch is so gentle, it makes your chest ache in a different way.

“Does it feel better now?” he murmurs. “Now you know… sharing is way better than keeping it all bottled up?”

You sigh, letting your head rest against his chest, listening to the steady, calming rhythm of his heartbeat. “Yeah,” you admit, voice quiet but honest. “I think… I think I’ll share every time I feel sad from now on.”

Anton hums, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “You better,” he mutters. “Because I’ll always be here for my pretty girl.”

He tightens his arms around you, rocking you gently like it’s the easiest thing in the world to hold you together when you feel like falling apart. And for the first time in a while, you actually believe it.

join my taglist by sending an ask or commenting here <3

SENA’S NOTE : this is the second and third idea mixed together and might not have been a perfect execution of the request.. but I believe it's still better than posting nothing.. so thank you for requesting. ;0;

© 2025 all rights reserved to fanbasetwo !

[writingwisterias]

Pregnant reader x RE4R Leon headcannons Pls? 🙏

I'm all for it so yes yes!

Warnings: Pregnancy, Fluff, Comfort, NSFW highlighted red MDNI

RE4R!Leon x AFAB!Reader

When you first tell him, he's pretty nervous. I think he deals with a lot of self doubt in his ability and skills

So he would be worried he's not enough to keep you safe and now there's a baby it might freak him out slightly

I don't think it's too big of a deal to start with though, the early stages of your pregnancy he's just helping around the house and making sure that you are okay

If you feel sick he's there holding your hair and soothing your back

Pays attention to the foods that trigger it and makes sure to weed them out of the house just so you have an easier time

Is afraid to try any weird cravings you have but I think he will still do it. Might make a big fuss over it but he's not actually being serious it's all jokes

Goes to every single appointment he can, he doesn't want to miss anything. If he is away he'll ask to call so you can catch him up with anything

If he is away on a mission he make Hunnigan give you emergency access to her/him

Adores watching your bump grow! Loves it if you do weekly photos with fruits so he can keep track whilst he's away

Gets sad about being sent on mission but towards the end of your pregnancy he will ask to stay at home unless it's an absolute emergency mission

Talks to the baby all the time! Mostly when you are asleep and can't hear him.

He can't sleep anyway

Researches anything to help you be comfortable even if that means being divided by a pregnancy pillow

Will do the trend where you hold the bump to let the mum have a break

Decorates the nursery with you and gets giddy if you take in some of his ideas

His shopping addiction is worse than yours when it comes to the baby, he's getting literally anything in sight

Doesn't want to know the gender, he likes the idea of the surprise but if you want to know then he will.

Prefers a smaller intimate baby shower/gender reveal. It's just easier on his head and he wants to share it with the people you love

Internally grateful that you will even go through this for him and will let you know every chance he gets about how happy you have made him!

NSFW:

Is willing to do other things if your hormones start acting up,

he knows how tough it can be when he's away you can't reach anything properly relying on him to help you down there

He will spend hours eating you out and making sure you are fully satisfied if he's been away on a mission for a while

Towards the end of your pregnancy he will get a bit reserved just because he doesn't want to do any damage

But with enough pleading he will cave eventually

[gatorbites-imagines]

I’m not picky just wanna be fussed over & cuddle

Peter Parker x sick male reader

Headcanons

You can imagine most Peters in this scenario, though I always write with comic spidey in mind. Aka, adult, own apartment, job, etc. but I don’t think it’s really mentioned in this. At first, I was gonna write about Trafalgar Law, but I feel like he would we way too much doctor, not enough cuddling.

Not that long, but I hope it’s enough.

I have a feeling Peter would realize before you that you were sick. Like, hed notice a change in your scent, your body temperature or how sluggish you would get.

Noticing early on wouldn’t stop a cold obviously, but he would start getting ready for it, most likely without thinking about it. He just catches himself gathering blankets and your favorite snacks that he knows you can stomach when sick.

Would he make a nest out of webs when you got sick? Maybe? It depends on how spidery we imagine this peter. I feel he would at least stick blankets and pillows together to make the most comfortable bed for you to lay in.

He would try to talk you out of going out or going anywhere when he notices you getting sick. But Peter is known for dating stubborn people, so it would shock nobody if you still went out, thinking you were fine, only for you to get really sick.

Hes never mad about it though, Peter loves you too much. He does tsk and crack a few jokes about it, how your neighborhood spider-nurse needs to take care of you.

Peter would patrol and work less when you are sick, or not patrol at all, depending on how bad it is. If crime is at the normal amount he might stay home anyways, just to spend time with you and make you feel seen and cared for.

I feel like his healing factor keeps Peter from catching common colds and fevers, so he doesn’t worry about kissing and cuddling you. He does joke about the kiss being extra germy, which you would have pushed him out of the bed for, if you weren’t so tired.

Peter likes you feed you when you are sick, since he thinks you should use all your energy to fight whatever sickness you have. He also just thinks it’s kinda romantic.

Peter is also the kind of guy who always worries if you’re drinking enough. He doesn’t just bring you water but all kinds of juices, gatorades, whatever you can think of. You always end up with like 10 different drinks by the bed “just in case you want something else babe”

Not having to worry about getting sick also means Peter will cuddle you. Having a very flexible spider boyfriend also means he can fit right around you inside whatever blanket nest you guys have made up.

His hugs are always so comfortable, since he’s got the strength to give you a good squeeze. Peter would spend this time massaging sore areas of your body, if you are fine with that.

The policy that kisses make it better lives through Peter, so your forehead gets a lot of kisses too.

He also keeps your hands inside his own or under his shirt if the fever makes your hands cold, to keep you warm. You always feel nice and toasty with Peter, there’s no way he’s letting his lover freeze.

Peter also never finds you off-putting or gross when you are sick. It’s just human nature to be sick, and honestly? Seeing you sick makes him love you more, since it means you trust him to be vulnerable around him.

So, peter might be somewhat clumsy and messy in the beginning setting it all up, panicking about getting you everything you need. But he’s a great nurse and cuddlebuddy. When he’s done all his research and gotten all the things though, it’s all cuddles and pampering.

Be careful or he’s gonna bathe you too and not let you lift a finger until you are all better again. Make sure to give him extra kisses to show you are thankful, even if he says its just what boyfriends are meant to do.

[nausicaamusiclover20]

NAUSICA I LOVE SO FREAKING MUCH YOUR WORK

i have a idea for a smutty fanfic with james hetfield 🥳

idk if someone already asked you this but anyways.

I just had the idea of ​​a fanfic of James who is married to reader and they have Cali (James's first daughter) newborn and reader's mother spends almost every day at her house with her granddaughter and those things, and because of those things they have not been able to have sex for months. But one night when his daughter and reader's mother are sleeping they have sex. It may sound strange but since James hasn't fucked for months, he goes a little hard, rough and very vocal with reader and makes everyone else wake up?

thank you so much!

Thank you so much for loving my stories. I'm so sorry if I'm posting this now. I hope you like it!❤

Warnings: mauture themes, sexual themes, strong language

_________________________

Interrupted desire

The house was finally silent. After months of exhaustion, between taking care of our newborn daughter, Cali, and my mother practically moving in to "help," James and I hadn't had a moment alone. Every night, we were either too tired or interrupted, and with my mother always around, privacy was nonexistent. Intimacy had become a distant memory.

But tonight? Tonight was different.

Cali was fast asleep in her bassinet, her tiny breaths even and peaceful. My mother had passed out in the guest room after an entire day of fussing over her granddaughter. For the first time in what felt like forever, there were no interruptions. No baby cries, no unannounced visits—just me, James, and a tension that had been simmering for months.

I barely had time to process it when James's hands were on me, his lips finding mine in a desperate kiss. His touch was rough, needy, and I felt my stomach tighten with anticipation. Months. It had been months since we had touched each other like this, and judging by the way James was gripping me, I wasn’t the only one feeling the ache of longing.

"Fuck, Y/N... you have no idea how much I've missed this," he growled against my skin, his voice thick with need. His hands slid under my shirt, rough fingers dancing over my skin, making me shiver.

I gasped as he lifted me effortlessly, pressing me against the mattress with a hunger that made my body burn. He wasn't holding back tonight. There was no slow build-up, no gentle teasing. Just raw, unfiltered need.

"James—" I barely got his name out before he was on me, his mouth trailing down my neck, teeth grazing my skin as he bit down, sucking marks onto my flesh. His body pressed against mine in a way that made me dizzy. The bed creaked beneath us as he moved, his groans mixing with my gasps.

He was rough. Desperate. Months of frustration poured into every movement. His hands gripped my hips tightly, keeping me right where he wanted me. He flipped me onto my stomach, his fingers pressing bruises into my skin as he yanked my hips back against him.

"You're mine, Y/N. Fuck, I’ve needed you so bad," he rasped, voice raw and wrecked.

The way he was panting, groaning, muttering curses under his breath—he wasn’t holding back, and neither was I. My fingers clawed at the sheets, trying to muffle my own moans, but it was impossible. The headboard hit the wall with a rhythmic thud, and the bedframe creaked louder than I remembered.

Too loud.

James didn’t seem to care. If anything, it only fueled him. His grip on my waist tightened, his thrusts growing even more relentless. He tangled a hand in my hair, tugging my head back as his teeth scraped against my shoulder. "Take it, baby. Fuck, you feel so good."

And then—

"What the hell?!"

The voice sliced through the air like a bucket of ice water.

James froze. My heart nearly stopped.

We turned in sync toward the door, where my mother stood, wide-eyed and horrified. In the crib, Cali stirred, letting out a tiny, confused wail.

James let out a long, frustrated groan and buried his face in the crook of my neck. "God damn it."

Heat flooded my face as I scrambled to grab the covers, my mind racing for an explanation—any explanation—but what could I even say?

Before I could come up with anything, my mother sighed dramatically. "For god's sake, at least have the decency to put a pillow behind the damn headboard next time!"

Then, without another word, she turned on her heel and marched down the hall, muttering under her breath about "young people and their hormones."

As soon as she disappeared, silence hung in the air for a long moment before James let out a breathy chuckle. "Oops."

I swatted at his chest, laughing despite myself. "Oops?! That’s all you have to say?"

James smirked, nuzzling into my neck. "What else can I say? Next time, I’ll try to keep it quieter."

James collapsed on top of me, breathless and defeated. "We finally get a moment and this happens."

I let out a helpless laugh, still reeling. "Well... at least now she knows we’re still married."

He groaned again, rolling off me, arms wrapping around my waist as he pulled me close. "We’re trying this again tomorrow. No interruptions."

"If we survive the embarrassment," I teased.

I rolled my eyes, but the truth was, I couldn’t wait for next time.

And honestly? It really was worth it.

[joelalorian]

Under False Pretenses - Chapter Seven

Stepdad!Dave York x f!reader | wc: 3715 | masterlist

Summary: A challenging mission, whirlwind marriage, and an unexpected yet captivating stepdaughter push Dave York to the brink as secrets, feelings, and loyalties collide.

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ mdni. Stepdad trope. Unspecified age gap. Soft, sexy, and intense Dave. Domestic Dave. Good Dad kink. We like thick thighs in this house and so does Dave. Nicknames and terms of endearment. Mummy is a whole lotta bitch. No use of y/n. Lots of cursing, talk of sex toys, and a bj.

a/n: This chapter features a prompt from @yxtkiwiyxt's Never Have I Ever challenge. The prompt was Never have I ever been to an adult store. I've added a little bit of context to the beginning of this chapter so it can conceivably be read as a standalone, but just makes more sense if reading the larger story. Hope you enjoy!

Series Masterlist

Chapter Seven

Now that Dave had a taste, he was quickly becoming addicted to you. He couldn’t stay away, sneaking down to the basement to spend time with you after Lisa went to bed, coming and going from his office more often than usual, using the private entrance from the garage to enter the house rather than the main entrance. Anything and everything he did was designed to set eyes – or hands – on you more frequently.

However, in front of your mom, he still played the role of faithful, if not loving spouse. It pained him more each day to do so, but he had to be to maintain appearances. There was still too much at stake.

He didn’t miss the pained look that crossed your face sometimes when you’d come up to the kitchen in the mornings to find him seated at the table with your mom and the girls like the perfect little family. Or when Lisa would put her hands on him, trying to snuggle into his side or putting her head on his shoulder while he sat on the couch. It never lasted long, that look on your face or the touches from Lisa since he always pulled away, but the effects lingered.

It hurt Dave for you to see those things, the look on your face, when you did, tore at his heart, knowing how you felt. It was a necessary evil, though, and he convinced himself it was okay because you never asked any questions about his marriage to your mom. You avoided the topic altogether, which suited Dave just fine. He couldn’t have told you the truth anyway. Not yet.

Christmas was particularly difficult, Lisa making a big fuss over him to the point he thought she was putting on a show to make you uncomfortable. All it did was make Dave really uncomfortable. He spoiled the girls, getting them everything on their wish lists and then some. His gifts to your mom were practical and simple, much to her disappointment. He knew you heard their raised voices later that day as she reamed him for the thoughtless gifts.

Dave didn’t give a shit. His mind was focused on you, on making sure the gifts he gave you were perfect. He had two sets – one consisting of candles to give in front of Lisa and the girls and the real, special one to give you in private. He gave you his heart on a string, basically – a necklace with a heart-shaped diamond, which you loved.

Still, he felt like it wasn’t enough, not for what you meant to him, for the ever-deepening feelings he had for you.

That’s why he doted on you whenever he could, playing any silly game you insisted on while sharing a bottle of wine or mimosas on the basement couch after your mom and the girls were asleep. Tonight, for example, the two of you sat facing each other on the cushy furniture, eyes glassy with laughter and a bit of a buzz from the delicious mimosas in your hands, as you declared the latest game.

“Let’s play Never Have I Ever!”

Dave groaned, but he couldn’t deny you, not with how cute and happy you looked, sitting cross-legged on the couch, torso leaning back against the armrest with a half-full glass in your hand. You were incandescent in that moment, smile brighter than the full moon outside, and Dave could do nothing but grin back at you.

“Fine,” he caved, mind whirring for the most salacious topic he could think of. He wanted to make you squirm, but he needed a moment to come up with something. “You first.”

One finger tapping against your pretty lips, you hummed in thought. Smile widening across your face, eyebrows raising excitedly, you settled on something. “Never have I ever… gone to an adult store.”

Dave’s brow shot upwards, surprised by that confession. He had, several times, and took a sip of the bubbling citrusy cocktail, his eyes never leaving yours. Despite his surprise, your question led him to one of his own, something he was certain you wouldn’t have done. Not if you’d never even visited an adult store.

Leaning forward eagerly, you watched his throat bob as he swallowed, pupils dilating prettily. Tempted as he was to kiss you right then, Dave eyed you smugly instead, awaiting your reaction to what he was about to say. “Never have I ever… used a vibrating cock ring.”

Your mouth dropped open comically as you stared wide-eyed at him, causing Dave to chuckle darkly. Fuck, how he’d like to try one out with you. He nearly choked when you gathered yourself and took a sip of your mimosa, sending a cheeky wink at him.

“Wait, what?” His brain could not compute.

Giggling at his reaction, you shrugged. “What? I may have never set foot in an adult store, but I’ve tried a toy or two before.”

“Fuck,” Dave breathed, a surge of unexpected jealousy sweeping through him at the thought of you trying out toys with any other man.

“Color me surprised you’ve never used one,” you teased. “A man of your experience?”

A crease formed between his eyes as he pouted at you. “Are you implying that I’m old?”

Again, you giggled, the sound warming his insides. He loved making you laugh. “No! I just thought with two marriages under your belt, you’d probably done a lot, tried all the toys, or whatever.”

Dave couldn’t help the frown that made its home on his face, torn between wanting to tell you everything and nothing at all about those marriages. You softened at the sight, reaching across the space between you to caress the line between his brows. “I’m not judging, promise. I’m just surprised. Your cock would look amazing with one wrapped around the base.”

He couldn’t speak with that visual in his head, the blood flowing south stole his ability to form words, and you added in a suddenly shy voice, “Maybe we could go to the store and pick one out to try together?”

Fuck, he loved that idea. Visions of the two of you choosing sex toys together, and then going home to try them out washed over him, taking over every thought in his head. His cock, already half hard from the pleasant buzz of champagne and his proximity to you, was fully hard now, pushing against the confines of his boxer briefs.

Your eyes, wide and full of salacious thoughts of your own, darted downwards to take in the bulge in his sweatpants becoming ever more visible. The tip of your pink tongue darted out, gliding against your bottom lip as you stared, and Dave felt his cock twitch in anticipation.

The electricity between you sparked, but he wasn’t quite ready to give into it yet – the build-up was as fun as the grand finale.

“What else have you never tried?” Dave asked, his voice deep and raspy, cutting the air like lightning.

Arousal was clear in your gaze as you bit your bottom lip in thought. “I’ve always wanted to wake up to someone balls deep inside me. Like, when I’m lying on my stomach, you know?”

“Holy fuck,” Dave muttered. The need, the want, became too much and he yanked you closer until you sat in his lap. Playful conversation turned to kissing and before either of you knew it, you slid to the floor and were on your knees for him.

You gave him the blow job of a lifetime that night. He never spurted that much cum before – so much it filled your mouth and dribbled over your chin. The sight of you with his cum on your beautiful face caused two more ropes to spill from his cock, painting your chest as you leaned back to swallow and catch your breath.

He fell harder in love with you as you stared up at him all blissful and doe-eyed while still on your knees for him.

“Honey?” your mom called as she walked through the front door. The way her voice simpered, you knew she was calling for Dave, not you. She’d been switching back and forth from ignoring your presence to nagging the hell out of you lately. You preferred the former, for obvious reasons.

He grimaced, glancing at you from his spot at the breakfast bar while you helped Alice and Molly with a puzzle on the dining table. With a sigh, he called back, “Yeah?”

Entering the room with a broad smile and a card in her hand, she sidled up to her husband. “Roger and Mary invited us to a last-minute New Year’s Eve party at their house tonight.” Her long, red nails scratched down his back, catching in the fabric of his shirt and you turned away with an uncomfortable shudder. “They invited all of us, though I suspect it will be only you and me by midnight. You wouldn’t want the girls staying out that late.”

She looked at you then, flashing a knowing smirk. “Since you’re obviously not doing anything tonight, you can keep an eye on the girls at the party and bring them home early so Dave and I can enjoy ourselves.”

“Lisa,” Dave sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That’s not necess—"

You cut him off, your hackles up from your mom’s attitude. “Excuse me?”  She wasn’t wrong, but that wasn’t the point. Of course, you would watch them, for Dave’s sake, not your mother’s. But would it kill the bitch to ask instead of assuming?

Looking at you like you were an idiot, your mom spoke slowly, obnoxiously, as she approached the table. “The girls. Alice and Molly, do you remember them?” She gestured toward the wide-eyed little girls like you weren’t sitting right fucking next to them. “You’ll make sure they don’t get into trouble at the party while Dave and I are busy socializing.”

You wanted to slap her smug face but you swallowed the violent urge and settled on irritation instead. “Right, because I clearly have no life outside of this house.”

Lisa smirked again, patting your cheek like you were a fucking child. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

Sometimes you fucking hated that woman. The things you would say if the girls weren’t sitting right there watching everything unfold.

Dave’s eyes locked onto yours, his gaze soft as he jumped in to distract your mother so you could calm down from the rage building inside you. Your mom reached for new levels of bitchiness each day.

“I doubt I’ll make it to midnight myself,” he said. “I’ll probably go home when they do.”

Your mom pouted at that, and you tuned them out as it turned into a hushed argument. In fact, you avoided your mother altogether for the rest of the day, choosing to keep the girls entertained until it was time to get ready for the party. You helped them put on the cute dresses their maternal grandparents gave them for Christmas, curling their hair and sweeping the lightest dusting of powder on their sweet faces because they wanted to look pretty like you.

“See? Just a little glow and you both look like beautiful princesses going to the ball,” you said, smiling as they admired themselves in the mirror.

“This is so cool,” Alice said, turning her head from side to side.

Molly grinned. “We look just like you.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest, and you kissed the tops of their heads, careful not to mess up their hair. Goodness, you loved these girls.

You were quick with your own preparations, adding a little curl to your hair and understated makeup to your face. Opting for simplicity, you went with the trusted little black dress that had seen you through most major events in your adulthood. You were just digging out a pair of heels to wear with it when Dave appeared in your doorway, decked out in a slate gray suit with a dark blue tie, hair swept back off his forehead and a brightness shining in his eyes at the sight of you.

“You look beautiful,” he said in a low, soft voice as he stepped into the room. One large hand brushed down the fabric of your dress, following the curves of your body, and he leaned in to press his lips to your forehead.

“You look rather dashing yourself, Mister.” Your eyelids fluttered shut at the press of his lips against your skin. A little sigh slipped past your glossy lips as you breathed in the rich scent of his cologne.

Dave’s eyes searched yours as he stepped back. “I wanted to talk to you before we head to the party.”

“Ok,” you replied, a hint of worry in your voice as you sat on the edge of your bed. Dave followed, sitting next to you and slipping a hand into your lap to tangle his fingers with yours.

“It’s nothing bad, Firecracker,” he smiled. “It’s just…”

“It’s just the first time we’ll be in public together since things… changed between us.”

His eyes softened, his hand squeezing yours a little tighter. “Exactly. We’ll need to be careful, especially in front of Roger. He’s… not a man whose attention I want on you.”

“Why is that?” you asked, brows furrowed curiously. “Is he a criminal or something? Wait, are you investigating him?”

Dave shook his head, his smile faltering a bit. “I can’t tell you that. Just stay away from him, okay? Anna – the woman from that day in the café – stay clear of her, too. Please.”

You nodded, looking away and muttering, “Of course.” A tug on your hand drew your eyes back to his, and he leaned over to softly kiss your mouth. A hint of your lip gloss lingered on his lips when he pulled back with a grin. The sight broke the tension, and you chuckled, wiping away the evidence with your thumb.

“I wish I could walk into that party holding your hand, not hers,” Dave offered sincerely, lifting your hand to kiss each of your knuckles.

“Me, too.” After a beat, you added, “Maybe someday.”

Dave looked at you with such a soft, hopeful look before leaving the room, it left you with an aching, jealous heart.

This night was going to be torture, you thought.

And it was.

Roger’s house was alive with music and laughter, champagne flutes clinking as guests milled about in glittering attire. The girls ran ahead, already excited by the sight of a variety of desserts laid out in the dining room.

Your mom wasted no time draping herself around Dave, greeting Roger and his wife with an air of effortless charm. You kept to the sidelines, watching, observing with one eye always on the girls.

Seeing your mom and Dave together like this, smiling at each other as they worked the room, his arm around her small waist, the occasional kiss to his cheek from her garishly red lips. All of it fucking sucked to watch and you questioned why you even bothered to come to this party with them in the first place.

A huge part of you ached to bolt, take the girls, and leave the party without any explanation. Observing your mom tangle her fingers in that same shock of hair at the base of Dave’s neck that you liked to play with had you taking a step toward the door.

And then, you felt it.

Dave’s gaze.

It burned into you with a longing so strong your skin prickled with goosebumps. You decided to stay put just so he’d keep looking at you like that.

And he did.

Every time you turned, you caught him looking, his soulful eyes saying everything. He checked on the girls frequently, but his eyes always found you, no matter where you were in the room.

If not for those shared glances, the subtle winks at you, and the quirk of his lips when your gazes locked, you would be dying inside.

You were getting another glass of wine from the bartender the Grants hired for the evening when you spotted a vaguely familiar face approaching your mom and Dave.

It was Anna, the woman you saw in the café with Dave. The one he told you to stay away from.

Her eyes cataloged your mom and Dave with interest, a smirk playing at her lips. She joined the small group they were talking to, stepping too close to Dave for your comfort. Fingernails dancing up his suit jacket, she leaned closer to whisper in his ear.

He froze at whatever she said, and a frown marred your brow as your gut twisted.

Torture. This night was nothing but fucking torture.

Suddenly, a presence loomed too close beside you.

“Enjoying yourself?”

You turned to find Roger, his grin lazy, beady eyes scanning you in a way that made your skin crawl.

“It’s a lovely party,” you replied politely, stepping back to create distance between you. Roger quickly closed the space.

“You must be Lisa’s daughter. We haven’t had a chance to officially meet yet. You’re always so occupied… They keep you busy over there.”

You tensed, glancing across the room, but Dave was nowhere in sight.

Roger reached for a stray lock of your hair, twirling it between his fingers. “You know, I see now why Dave keeps you hidden away. If I had someone like you around…”

You jerked back, heart pounding. You did not like where that observation was heading, but a deep, stern voice interrupted the uncomfortable moment before you could react further.

“Roger.” Dave’s voice was ice.

Roger turned, all casual charm, but the flicker of unease in his eyes met Dave’s was unmistakable. He must know what Dave was capable of. “Relax, York. We’re just making conversation. You certainly have your hands full being surrounded by such beautiful women.”

Dave’s jaw tightened as he muttered, “Find someone else to make conversation with.”

For a long moment, Roger seemed like he might push back just to be an ass. But whatever he saw in Dave’s expression made him reconsider any further remarks. With a smirk, he raised his hands in mock surrender and disappeared back into the crowd of partygoers.

Dave turned to you, his breath heavy, his eyes burning with something unreadable. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, though your hands trembled slightly. That man gave you the creeps even without Dave’s earlier warning. “I—yeah. I just…”

He exhaled, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I told you to stay away from him.”

You bristled. “I didn’t exactly seek him out, David.”

He sighed, tension rippling through his body. He reached out, hesitated as if remembering where you two were, then let his hand drop. “Just… stay close to the girls and away from everyone else, okay?”

“So, I’m just supposed to babysit and not speak to anyone?” How un-fucking-fair was that?

“Pretty much,” he replied without remorse.

You wanted to push back, to demand that he stop treating you like a fucking child, but your mom appeared before you could respond. Slipping her arm around Dave’s waist, kissing his cheek before turning to you with a sickly sweet smile. His dark eyes remained on you the whole time. “I hope you’re not causing trouble.”

Forcing a tight smile, you snapped, “Wouldn’t dream of it,” before striding away. Both of them could just fuck right off. You were so fucking sick of this party.

He tried to keep his eyes off you knowing what was at stake. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down with this crowd, so he tried. He really fucking tried. And completely failed.

You were breathtaking in that dress. The way it hugged your curves, showcasing the best parts of your body, made his heart thump heavily in his chest. You were his dream woman. How was he supposed to pretend you didn’t exist?

So, he chanced glances more often than he should have. He winked and smiled at you, knowing how hard it was to see him with his arm around your mom. He longed to be by your side instead of hers.

And that smug bastard Roger noticed the looks. Dave knew it was entirely his fault the man approached you. He practically lit a beacon drawing the man’s attention to you with each look. So much for being subtle.

You had Dave York twisted up inside and made him forget the most basic rules of subterfuge.

He intervened when he saw Roger speaking to you and kept an eye on you and the girls until you said goodnight and took them home. When he took a breather out on the patio after you said goodnight, Anna cornered him.

“Roger told me about your sweet little stepdaughter. Tell me, is she your plaything? Is that why you keep turning me down? I know it damn well isn’t your wife, so she must be the reason.”

Dave’s expression darkened. He dealt with enough of Anna’s over-the-top sex kitten act for the job, he didn’t have the patience for it tonight. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Anna smirked, twirling the glass of champagne in her hand before taking a long, drawn-out sip. “Oh, relax. I’m just saying… you must enjoy having something to grab onto. She’s a little… thick in places. Sizeable ass.”

“Anna,” Dave snapped, his voice full of warning as his hands curled into fists at his sides.

Anna merely chuckled. “Oh, don’t get your panties in a bunch, handsome. I’m just teasing.”

“Enough. Contact me when you have something business-related to talk about. Otherwise, leave me alone.” He had enough. Striding back into the house, he deposited his empty glass on a random table and left the party without saying goodbye to anyone, including Lisa. She was too busy paying court to a room full of admirers and he’d had enough of her shit tonight, too.

As Dave walked across the street and back to his home, his phone buzzed, and he hoped it was from you. When he pulled the phone from the inside pocket of his blazer, the message on the screen made his blood run cold.

Unknown Number: I know what you’re hiding.

tbc

Chapter Eight

tag list: @imdrinkingpedro @lillaydee @ppascalrain @yorksgirl @missladym1981 @baronessvonglitter @slimybeth69 @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @inept-the-magnificent @wannab-urs @thundermartini @peelieblue @harriedandharassed @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @sunnytuliptime @vie-is-punk

[impyssadobsessions]

DP x DMC interaction

haha okay so i have an interaction idea for my dmc and dp crossover with Patty and Danny with how they meet. (probably be only for me but hehe >w<) Danny after being stranded in dmc world, is living with Dante and being a part-time employee. They specify part time since he's still a minor. (just by a year and that's not even fully correct just easier to keep same birthday due to time shenanigans... Danny mostly upset because he was a four months away and now he has to wait eight. Not important just thought it be funny for Danny to fuss over it a little.) Dante is off on another gig not long after Danny starts crashing at his place. Danny had just gotten his citizenship started thanks to Morrison, and now settling in. He's borrowing Dante's clothes and cleaning up the place (since its still a mess from last Dante was there despite Lady n Trish having dropped in while he was stuck in underworld ) Imagine Dante actually giving Danny his better clothes, and they're baggy on Danny. Nero and Nico having promise to drop by at the end of the week, tying off loose ends to take Danny in for a bit.

Anyways. So Danny just finding something to do, since he isn't in a school ( and he doubts he will), and the business is slow, so he cleans the place. He gets it looking really nice and clean. That's when Patty drops in, expecting to go give Dante a piece of her mind for not checking in or answering her calls ( she's just worried about the geezer) then is shocked when she walks into the place and its SPOTLESS. And there in the middle of the office is someone in Dante's clothes but clearly not Dante. Which she exclaims in shock. And Danny, being Danny like.. uhh yeah I know. Need me to take a message? Wondering why a girl closer to his age looking for Dante. Did she have a job for them? Patty just shocked but then bombarding Danny with questions, suspicious of him. Which Danny just holding his hands like AHH chill chill =w=''' Then Danny explains the situation. Patty still suspicious if not a bit jealous or at least upset Dante never told her. Danny explaining how its pretty new. That's when someone else comes in fretting with an actual Job request. Immediately distraught when hearing Dante isn't in. Danny saying he can take the shift if its nearby- but the guy not wanting to hear it. Dismissing Danny before even knowing him, crumbling into the floor wailing. That's when Patty jumps in both curious of Danny's ability, while also not wanting anything to discourage going to Devil May Cry for services (pride in Dante's business). Patty convincing the man in almost scary manipulative way. She also insists on accompanying them. Danny learns more about Patty on their way over, she driving him up to the spot. Patty learning a little bit about Danny too. He goes into the infested manor, only to turn out the guy was the reason it was infested having made a deal only to turn tails... on more than one demon. Danny gets roughed up, still trying to get a hang of his limitations and powers here, but still manages to pull off a cool fight- especially if Patty ends up in direct line of fire. He sends all the demons packing. Leaving the asshole who started this mess, who tried not to pay them. Making a fuss about the destruction of the mansion, and how long it had taken Danny, as well as letting the demons get too close to him. (They never touched him) Patty is the one to give the guy hell, as well as scare him into paying Danny with bonus. Mentioning how upset Dante would be learning that he jibbed his son, and how next time a demon be hunting him down he won't be able to call on DMC for help. Danny's a bit shocked but pleasantly so with how fast the guy changes his tune as Patty offers to drive Danny out to get milkshakes, since they just got paid. "We?" "I did the negotiating, so I'll be taking a cut. Dante won't mind. uwu C'mon, I'm going to show you all the best hang outs around town. You're going to love them." Thus starts Danny and Patty hanging out. >w< Patty tries not to show it, but she was very impressed at how Danny handled things. Yeah he's not as cool as Dante, but he had his own flare. Plus he's closer to her age.

I did a doodle on paper too =w=' I was going to do something epic and cool but uh... nothing came to me

also a repost of this so you can get a better look at their designs.

[thedolmainblog]

In the post where Blythe is wearing a suit, it says the last time he dressed like that was for Avery (and that he hates it). What is his opinion of and previous relationship with Avery? How has that changed as he got older?

OKAY SO this applies to pc blythe only so its a bit different. early game blythe went on dates with avery bc he needs his money!!! simple as. but he just. does not like the energy avery gives, insisting fixing his mannerism and changing his hair (the hairstyle present in that drawing is avery mandated!!) and after blythe finally turned to stealing and artifact selling the money avery gives just doesnt keep up, and like, he already dislikes him, so blythe keeps blowing off dates from avery. this ofc culminates in the avery dismissal event, where avery and blythe fought for SO LONG!!! IN THE PUB!!! (this significantly increased his combat fame) with blythe winning.

now stepping back from blythes perspective, avery is obviously pissed off, and calls bailey about one of his orphans misbehaving. bailey asks who, avery says blythe. bailey, silent for a moment, tells avery that blythe is karla's son. the line is silent for a moment, before avery going "of fucking course its her child. why wouldn't it" before hanging up the phone. bc blythe picked the "hey dont go on dates with this guy he's mean as shit" route of the dismissal, also thats KARLAS SON, avery doesnt bother with the orphanage anymore.

(a little extra : if older blythe happens to be manning the pub and you do the avery dismissal, specifically where you fight them, the fight will end short with blythe interrupting and throwing avery out. low love he doesnt really acknowledge you, just passes you a med kit, but high love he fusses over you, asking why are you with an asshat anyways)

[cakerybakery]

Back on the desktop so I'm able to post this outside of the Pregnant Adam Cult community.

I got inspired by the Omiltemi cottontail rabbit spotting in the news and wrote Breeding Meat - Task Failed. This is the slightly edited and cleaned up version that I posted on AO3

-

Rare and cornered, Naga Lucifer was ready to devour Adam, only to smell that Adam was pregnant.

Why eat one rabbit when he can keep Adam and eat the babies in a couple of weeks? He’s a rare dish after all.

So he takes Adam back to his den. He feeds the rabbit to keep him nice and plump. Adam is fastidious, though. Cleaning the underground den of bones, shed skin, and rot. Even if he’s trapped and Lucifer is going to eat him and his babies, he’s not giving birth in a disgusting mess.

Adam basically takes over as he starts to nest. Nipping at Lucifer if he disturbs Adam's bedding. Yelling at him when he dumps the bones he doesn’t digest from his meals on the floor. He came in covered in mud once, and Adam hissed at him until he took a bath. Lucifer was tempted to just eat Adam anyway. One big meal now that Adam was too big to do much.

His meal was getting antsy, though. Muttering to himself as he stopped eating.

“They’re late.”

“Who?” Lucifer asked from his warm spot in the sun by the window.

“The babies. They should have been born by now.” Adam paced in his nest. Moving the soft grasses and leaves around, rearranging flowers yet again.

“In a hurry for me to eat them?” Lucifer chuckled.

Adam shot him a dirty look and made the same promise: “I’ll die before I let you harm a hair on their bodies’.”

“You’ll die either way.” Lucifer got up anyway. Adam’s pacing was annoying. “Is there anything that will hurry them along?”

Snorting, Adam continued to fuss. Kneeling in the grasses and pushing it around. “Sex helps. But I’m not going to lure some other rabbit in here for you to eat.”

Sex helped? Lucifer could do that. He didn’t usually fuck his meals, but Adam’s pussy was inviting.

He would be lying if he said he hadn’t been watching the rabbit the past few weeks. The way his tail twitched, the fluff on his backend framing that bare cunt when Adam bent over, how he smelled, and his pussy always looked so wet.

More than once, Lucifer had to hold himself back from tasting the juices between Adam’s thighs. From grabbing fistfuls of Adam’s engorged tits and tasting the mammal’s milk.

Lucifer slithered up behind Adam, took Adam’s hips in his hands, and pulled back against Lucifer’s unsheathed double pricks. Adam moaned as the twin cocks rubbed against his cunt, searching for a way inside of him.

“Lucifer?” Adam panted, his belly large with his litter dragged against the ground as he was thrust against.

“Sex helps, right? It doesn’t have to be a rabbit.” The tips of Lucifer’s cocks nudged each other as they teased Adam’s opening, pushing in enough to make Adam push back to get more in, only for Lucifer to pull back.

He teased the rabbit until Adam begged; only then did Lucifer bury himself into Adam's tight heat.

Adam cried out in pleasure. “By the trees, you’re so big.”

“Yeah? You like that?” Lucifer rocked in and out. He’d never been in a cunt so warm before. Were all mammals this great feeling? So fucking warm. His dicks had never been this hard before. It gave him lots of energy to pick up his pace.

“Lucifer!” Adam moaned, and Lucifer could feel Adam’s cunt spasm around him. He reached around and played with the small cock he found there. Stroking him in time with Lucifer’s thrusts. Lucifer wrapped his tail around Adam and prodded the tip into Adam’s mouth.

Adam opened wide, and Lucifer shoved the tip into Adam’s hot, wet mouth. Moaning as his face was fucked, Adam sucked on the tip of Lucifer’s tail like a cock.

Lucifer pulled out, and Adam whined with need until Lucifer stuck his fingers into Adam’s pussy to coat them, then he worked on opening Adam’s ass.

Looked back over his shoulder, Adam looked unsure.

“It’s okay, my little breeder; your master will take good care of you.”

Adam’s eyes rolled back with pleasure as Lucifer lined himself back up and filled both wet holes of Adam’s.

Lucifer played with the tip of Adam’s cock, wishing he was big enough to wrap himself around and suck on Adam’s prick. He wanted to be a breeding ball of just the two of them. But Adam’s pregnant belly got in the way.

Once Adam had the babies, Lucifer was going to do this again. He was going to breed his little rabbit. Every night he was going to fill Adam’s every hole and pump cum into his pussy. Month after month he’d impregnate his mate. Rabbits grew fast; nagas were self-sufficient the moment they hatched.

He was going to keep Adam fat and pregnant. Their babies wouldn’t need their mother for long, and then Lucifer could impregnate Adam again.

Adam came from his cock and cunt. He was starting to go limp, moaning as Lucifer’s tail kept his mouth spread and drooling. His eyes were half-closed, and Lucifer knew he’d fucked his mate to exhaustion.

Lucifer filled Adam’s ass and cunt with cum and pulled out. He helped Adam onto his side to rest and encircled Adam to cuddle.

The sun had set when Lucifer was jolted awake by Adam’s claws digging into his hands. “Babies.” Adam moaned. “Babies are coming.”

Lucifer realized the wet mess between them wasn’t their cum but birth water. Before Lucifer could get out of the way, Adam bore down, and there was a small screaming infant in his lap.

He panicked and pulled his hands from Adam's now-loose grip. Lucifer picked the baby up, sliced through the cord, and gave him to Adam to nurse and keep warm.

Unsure what else to do, Lucifer used the grasses to try and clean up the mess from them. He didn’t get far before Adam was clawing at the ground again, and another wet baby was deposited into the soft grass.

Moving that one up to Adam as well to feed first, Lucifer grabbed clean bedding and laid it down. To his panicked mind, he seemed to be constantly moving babies from between Adam’s legs to his chest.

Exhaustion made Lucifer shake, and he counted five babies full of milk and asleep beside their tired mother.

“Are you going to eat us now?” Adam groaned. He didn’t have the energy to lift his head.

“No.” Lucifer gathered even more grasses that Adam had made Lucifer fetch for him as he built his nest.

The idea of eating his mate's litter made him a little sick, seeing them being born even more so. Maybe he could become a herbivore? Or at least only eat things that came from eggs from now on. He never wanted to look at another mammal as a meal again, not now that he was intimately aware of how they were birthed.

Fish. Yeah. He was going to learn to eat fish. They were supposed to be wet.

“After that, I don’t think I can eat another mammal.”

Adam eyed him up. “Does that mean we’re free to go?” 

“If…” Lucifer didn’t like the idea of his mate leaving. He still wanted to impregnate his mate over and over. Fill the forest with their hybrid babies. “If you want. I won’t force you to stay any longer.” He’d keep his meal captive, but not his mate. “If you don’t wish to be my mate. Then you’re free to go.”

He left the nest to curl up in a corner of the den. Leaving the entrance open, instead of barred shut like normal. Lucifer lay in the cold and went to sleep.

The warm sun woke him, and he could smell even before he opened his eyes that Adam was gone.

All Lucifer could smell as he flicked his tongue was the dirty grasses, the stink of mammal birth, and—he sniffed the air and slithered to the nest. Under the grasses were five bare and blind kits. One was a bit more uncovered than the rest, and it mewled and shivered.

Lucifer recovered it with clean grass and tried to shush the baby. Warm again, the baby went back to sleep, and Lucifer was left to ponder where Adam had gone.

He poked his head out of the den and caught sight of Adam returning with clean nest materials and munching on a bushel of flowers and grasses.

“Adam?” Lucifer rushed from the den to Adam’s side. “You didn’t leave.”

Shrugging, Adam finished his nibbling. “If you’re not going to eat us, then there’s no safer place to raise babies.” He shifted the bundle in his hands. “Besides, I want to be stuffed again, like you did the night before, my mate.”

Lucifer paused in his slithering at that. Adam called him his mate. 

Getting ahead, Adam’s tail twitched enticingly. “The babies will be getting hungry soon. You make a mating nest as I feed our children, and after they’ve gone back to sleep, you’re going to mate me again.”

There was no room for questioning Adam’s orders, and Lucifer didn’t want to. Whatever his fluffy mate wanted, Lucifer would give him. He couldn’t wait to fill Adam’s belly with another litter.

[beef-brisket]

Lucifer: Get out of my house!

With a powerful hit, Lucifer punched Abaddon through a fall and into the rock outside his mansion.

Lucifer quickly followed him, unfurling his wings. He couldn't help but growl when Abaddon wiped some blood off his lip and laughed.

Abaddon: Ooh, fansy~. You think you're so great, you little fuck?! Well, fuck you-! I can do that shit to!

Lucifer glared when Abaddon summoned a pair of large, leather wings.

Quickly, they took to the sky, delivering blow after blow. Their golden blood rained around Lucifer's home, soaking the grass and dripping on the windows.

-

Adam covered his ears each time he heard any sound of the battle outside. He hated that Lucifer was defending him. If anything happened to him, Adam would never forgive himself.

He felt like such a coward, hiding away while everyone else suffered.

Because of him.

This was his fault. If only he wasn't overcome by his anger, none of this would have happened. His father never would have picked him. His father never would have separated him.

Covering his ears, Adam screamed when something large smashed through the wall to the room he was in.

Dust and debris made everything so hard to see, but when Adam saw familiar blonde hair and a while, ruined suit, he started to run over to the king.

Adam: N-No-! Lu-!

Abaddon: There you are, bitch!

It was so quick. He didn't even hear Abaddon, or many he was too panicked to notice the sound of the demons' large wings.

Adam's legs buckled, and his hands flew his shoulder as Abaddon's claws pushed into his skin of his shoulder, amd lifted him off the ground.

Abaddon: You fat fuck! You think you can stick your fucking little boyfriend on me to save your ass from your punishment?! For once if your damn life- take it like a man! You're ob my fucking list, babe~. Father wants you to fucking learn! No king will save you from this! But a king will die, if you fuck me around any longer!

Adam begged and cried as Abaddon summoned a long, silver blade. Holding it out, it was just out of reach of Lucifer's throat.

Abaddon: So, you have a choice. Come with me, without a fuss, and little Luci will live. If you refuse, he dies... and you come with me anyway!

The first man couldn't take his eyes off Lucifer. His eyes were barely open, but they were looking at Adam.

He did so well that he put up a good fight. Adam could tell Abaddon was badly hurt, it's just the fucker was a good liar.

Adam: O-Okay- I'll go with you- p-please don't h-hurt him.

Abaddon smirked: Good choice. Look at that, little king. You get to live another day!

Snapping the silver blade away, Abaddon held Adam close and took to the skies, leaving Lucifer in the rubble of his home.

The king almost laughed at the amount of blood that was still coming out of Abaddon. Looks like the fucker heals slower than the king.

Sitting up, Lucifer growled. He was over being treated like scum in his own kingdom. He was done with his father messing with his kingdom. With his people. With his daughter.

He was going to end this. Now.

Tormentor of souls au

Darkness surrounded him like a blanket. Only he was no way comfortable or felt safe. He felt fear grip him like iron as he tried to make even a sliver sense of his situation. He could barely a muscle, if he had any muscle to pull. It felt like he had nothing to move, was this what happened to the souls he exorcised? 

Were they to end up here for eternity, slowly being drove insane with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company? Adam couldn’t even try to open his mouth to speak, well he did try, but the only words that would escape from him were from within his mind. In his mind he sighed, he was just so tired, he didn’t have any strength to fight, to argue that he shouldn’t be here. Yet what exactly was the point? He’d only tire himself further out. 

He had to admit it, he was stuck here, for all eternity. Much the same as a sinner. 

That was when he saw it a flicker of light. Not just any light, a pure white light. A light that was so familiar, one that brought him joy when it spoke to him in his booming voice.

His creator 

“GREETINGS MY SON. IT HAS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I HAVE LAST SPOKE TO YOU AND FOR THAT I APOLOGIZE”

Adam didn’t care he was just so thankful to be in his creator’s presence.

“MY SON I KNOW THAT YOU HAVE LIVED A LIFE OF HARDSHIP AND THAT IT DID NOT STOP EVEN WHEN YOU PERISHED.” 

He tried to not flinch at that. Thinking about his first life brought too many unpleasant memories.

“THAT IS WHY IT BRINGS ME PAIN TO ASK YOU OF THIS, BUT I NEED YOUR ASSISTANCE ONCE MORE. I KNOW OF WHAT YOU HAVE DONE THESE PAST FEW CENTURIES, AND I HAVE TO SAY THAT IT WAS NOT THE SOLUTION”

Adam could not believe what he was hearing. His own creator believed that they, the murderers and rapists, deserved to be redeemed!?

“HELL IS MEANT TO BE A PUNISHMENT, ETERNAL TORMENT OF THE SINS LUCIFER CORRUPTED WITH HIS WAY OF FREE WILL. HOWEVER MANY OF THEM DON’T SEE IT THAT WAY. TO THEM HELL IS MERELY A PLAYGROUND WHERE RULES NO LONGER MATTER. I HAVE SEEN TRUE MONSTROUS ACTS THE WICKED HAVE BROUGHT WITH THEM FROM LIFE. THEY CARRY IT MOST OUT ON THE TRUE CITIZENS OF HELL, THE ONES THAT HAD NO SAY IN BEING THERE OR NOT.”

The hell born, Adam thought taking in the Lord’s words

“I KNOW I AM NOT THEIR CREATOR, NOR DO THEY CALL ME FATHER, BUT I HAVE HEARD THEIR PLEAS FOR HELP TO BE SAVED FROM THE ACTS OF THE WICKED, OF ALL WICKED. UNFORTUNATELY THERE IS NOTHING I CAN DO ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE BORN DOWN THERE, BUT I CAN STOP THE SINNERS FROM HURTING THEM AND THAT IS WHERE I NEED YOUR HELP”

Adam had never put much thought into the hellborn. To him they were simply there and as long as they got in his way during the exterminations they weren’t a problem. There was the princess, but he didn’t really count her. He was curious however as to what the Lord wanted him to do.

“THE SINNERS NEED PUNISHMENT, AND THE HELL BORN NEED PROTECTION. YOU CAN BE THEIR PROTECTOR BY BECOMING THE PUNISHER.”

 With a simple snap of his creator’s fingers Adam felt something shift within him, in his very essence he changed. A warm feeling engulfed him whole and then he knew no more.

((Oh shit- I love everything about this! God needs to fuck off and let our boy rest!

Sorry this took me a hot second to get to- and I hope my reply does yours justice 😝))

Charlie is in full work mode and has been since the failed extermination ended. Since finding out Sir Pentious ended up in Heaven.

For months, she had been working hard. It was so hard that she somehow missed the latest gossip going around the Pride Ring.

Sinners ending up missing, only to resurface months later completely different. Scared. Traumatized.

Many didn't think much of it. This is Hell. There's always some crazy bastard out there doing shit.

But, it was when they became too scared to even function, too scared to ever be normal again, too scared that they would rather turn an angelic blade on themselves than to live with the possibility of going through whatever it is they've gone through.

Charlie was actually getting quite concerned. Especially when she heard Angel talking about it one night at Husks bar.

Angel: I fucking tell ya, kitty. People a shit scared. I've never seen the clubs so empty!

Husk shook his head: Must be the worst of the worst, huh?

Angel scoffed, downing his drink: Nah, babe. It's something else. It ain't no sinner.

Husk: Hellborn?

Angel: Those guys are freaky. Don't get me wrong, but their not THAT freaky. I had a client who said he was taken for three months. Three. That's fucking child's play. But the shit he said happened to him... fucking skinning, to pouring acid down his throat. Fuck mam, the sick ficker even dug around I'm his muscle and tendons!

Angel shook his head: There's something going on... even Val has lowered the workload.

Husk: Pft. Fuck. That's how you know it's serious.

Angel: Damn fucking right.

Charlie stood at the top of the stairs, listening to Angel's story. She was shocked but not surprised. She wasn't sure why this person has the sinners so scared, but sury it's nothing new.

She probably should make sure Al isn't behind this. She's only heard a few tales of his exploits so she wouldn't put it past him.

-

Alastor: Hm. So you've heard the rumors, too. While I'm flattered, I don't appreciate being confronted in such a way.

Vaggie: Just- fucking answer her, Alastor.

Alastor sighed, leaning on his cane: No, it's not me. I've been too busy here! And my kills stay dead when I'm finishing them~.

Charlie wasn't sure if she liked that answer, but it was good enough.

She apologized to Alastor, ams watched him leave.

Vaggie: ...I don't know, Charlie.

Charlie: I don't know either...

Vaggie: I'm sure it's nothing. Besides, you have more important things to deal with here, hun. You shouldn't get mixed up in sinner issues.

Charlie sighed: I know. I just... surely, it's a coincidence that this starts after the failed extermination... that was my fault. Simmered died because of me- I put my friends in danger! I feel like I owe it to everyone to at least try and solve it.

Vaggie smiled and pulled her girlfriend onto a soft hug.

Vaggie: I know you feel like that, hun. But you don't owe anyone anything... besides, if it's that bad, you could just ask Lucifer. He said he was looking for something to do.

Charlie: Hm... that's... a good idea, actually! I'll get dad on the case!

-

Lucifer: Me on the what now? Charlie, why should I care about whatever is going on with those sinners? Their... you know... sinners.

Charlie: Dad, please? Our guests are sinners. We need them to be safe. So please. Look into this for me? Even just a little bit?

Lucifer sighed. He really didn't want to do this. But, seeing the hopeful, pleading look on his daughters face, eventually changed his mind.

Charlie: Oh- thank you, dad, thank you!

Lucifer smiled as Charlie pulled into a hug. But when she felt and heard his back crack, she slowly put him down.

Charlie: S-Sorry dad!

Lucifer laughed through the pain: It's okay, Charlie - nothing I can't handle! I-I better start hunting a... whatever the fuck this is!

[supercantaloupe]

unclear whether i'm getting upgraded to principal on the KC concert or not...?

[umbrvx]

[ sword drawn over 3d model reference: unbreakable faith cc Osdias on sketchfab ]

⚪ 9158

[pigeonclaw]

I haven't felt very motivated to draw lately (what chronic fatigue does to a guy 😔) but I have cracked open my sketchbook a few times. Mostly to doodle TBC.

[waitineedaname]

i love the bingge extra because it's like

the horror of realizing you're the dark universe version of yourself. the injustice of seeing this other version of yourself be happy and loved, seeing him be treated with such gentle tenderness from a person who only ever treated you with cruelty

bad sex.

[wraithsoutlaws]

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.”

[actual-corpse]

Just got a rude reminder about how great it is to never have children/ be an only child.

There's too much drama involved with dying, apparently.