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#SilverMerc
corpo-rat · 1 month
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HAPPY VALENTINES DAY FROM MY OC/CANON BRAINROT TO YOURS!!!
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sh00kspeared · 1 year
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Cyberpunk 2077 poetry geekery incoming:
The fact that this poem is entitled Death of a Mercenary and can be found on Johnny’s dresser during the Temperance ending just breaks my heart. It’s so beautiful and symbolic of their relationship! “With you I wished to be and so I go”, “still the glassy dust will naught but rise”, “the chill-bleached delirium of desire”... argh, my literature nerd heart! I love this poem so much. Johnny and V love each other so much. I have spoken.
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miasmat · 1 year
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so i guess i finally caved in and am admitting before myself that i fell for johnny so yeah, alt was very helpful, they went to mikoshi, found johnny's body in cryo on the way, happy ever after, which ending did you guys get
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Mostly finished lines so here’s some gritty pencily bits until I finish this up.
I fixed his face, he feels more Johnny now to me, and I swapped his tags for V’s necklace (cause exchanged trinkets is such a perf trope).
Yes, his toenails are painted. Fight me about it.
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daceyarik · 2 years
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reach out and touch fate
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monowires · 1 year
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torn between loving this and hating this but have it anyway
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reistellae · 1 year
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I’ve been thinking about V having sex with their partner(s) as Johnny’s dirty talking in their head and I just need to read this play out.
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cuteasamuntin · 1 year
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Started out flirting with River because it was fun — just so easy to get under his skin. It was like he couldn’t work out if I was just teasing or working an angle for some other gig. Surprised both of us that I actually meant it.
Watched him cry before he knew anything about me except I could make someone kill themself, then turn around and tear their choom’s arms off with my bare hands. Let me help him anyway.
Took me up high to look at the skyline and gave me his gun before our first kiss. Romantic as hell.
Still dreamed about Johnny before River’s nightmares woke me up.
“Christ, V. Can’t believe you’re making me fuck a cop.” 
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mallratsys · 2 years
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Pistis Sophia Oceanview, circa late July 2080.
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ciderspunk2077 · 2 years
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I wanna hear about your Vs, NOW 🔫🦐
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trashcatsnark · 1 year
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Sooooo, since there's been a recent influx of new Cyberpunk 2077 fans due to the anime and I'm a whore for attention and validation- for anyone interested, I write Cyberpunk 2077 fic over on my ao3.
Most notably my long running Johnny Silverhand/ Fem!V fic. A 600k+ ongoing slow burn fic with lots of porn that covers the events of the game with my V- a small feral deaf former nomad.
If that sounds up your alley, give it a read. If you want something more bite-sized, I have one shots on my profile as well (mostly porn)
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corpo-rat · 2 months
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SIDE JOB:// HEROES        ↳ Headcanon conversations.
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sh00kspeared · 1 year
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So-- I don’t know if this is common knowledge and whatnot, but I still wanted to share because I’m so excited to have stumbled upon this in the game files.
A lot of SilverV fans know about the cut line where Johnny tells V, “sleep well, my prince(ss).” However, I’ve never seen anyone post the file name/where in the game it was cut from, so I decided to look for it myself. The file name under the ‘artist’ section is the same as it appears in the game files, and because I’m salty that no one else has posted the file path, you can find it at archive > base > localization > en-us > vo > johnny_q115_m_185f056cc7502000. Code is the exact same for fem v but with an f instead of an m between the underscores.
Spoilers incoming! From what I gather, it happens during the scene where V and Johnny talk on Vik’s roof before making their final decision. If you choose to have Johnny storm Arasaka tower with Rogue, he’ll say “sleep well my prince(ss)” before grabbing V’s arm and taking over.
Bro, why did they cut this. Why.
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skiitter · 2 years
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A prompt: whatever you want to write
"It's yours."
Self sacrifice is easy when the future doesn't exist. Now she drowns in black water and her lungs are coded membrane. The body was an easy trade when the only thing waiting for her was a short end to a shitty life. In the face of eternity, abject and non-euclidean, V begins to nurse the spark of regret.
"I don't want it."
A life of excess. The thrill of the chase for the ecstasy of the end. Johnny Silverhand flirted audaciously with fate, entombing himself in a violent, volatile arrogance. Never before has he been forced to pick the lesser of two evils. His legacy is that of the daemon slayer. Fuck your binary, he'll burn and pillage his way to a third choice. Only now, in the looming hour of their demise, fire and metal are but plastic playthings in the face of something greater, and deeper, than he can defeat.
"How could you?"
It's easy to judge when you're securely planted in a world of concrete truths. Never before has someone had to rip themselves, bloodied and bruised, from their designated meat, and accept that it is the only path forward. V wants for artificial sunlight, inky black titanium, all that glittering faux-gold befitting a chrome dragon in a city of neon blood. And she gives it up, the proverbial crown and all its illicit gifts, because the one time she should have been iron, she was water instead.
"Bring her back!"
Oh if he could. Johnny died for the cause, bled to the bitter bone in the name of all that he believed, and in the end, its but smoke wafting mindlessly in a dimly lit room. A body remolded to all his jagged parts, as if her skin could ever hope to cover the yawning pit he calls a heart. Or so they say. Or so Kerry says. Tits and an ass are all well and good but he'd set it all ablaze for the rasp of her voice on a cold morning breeze.
"Will it work?"
Hope is for children, for the infirm, for the fucking deluded. And yet, Alt whispers warnings wrapped tight in a foil of red potential and V is too fucking desperate to turn it away. She wants out, wants free, wants to rip the bars from her binary cage and eat the electric heart out of Night City's beaten chest. Fingers utterly beyond the scope of flesh and bone grip at the seams of the Blackwall, screaming for purchase. There is a body, somewhere, that used to be hers. And a killer inside that used to be no one's. She'll take it, take him, take the bite and the sting. Hand in the vipers nest, venom doesn't settle into the blood of an undead thing.
"Here's the thing,"
In case of emergency, break glass, release hell. Johnny is all wound up, coiled too tight in muscle re-knit to accommodate something profoundly fucking dumb. There is a hum, here and there, that haunts him. Something beyond words, as though he were the man to use them. So, he defies man and machine and corporate fucking greed. He severs the ties that bind them to the mortal and mundane and springs forth his daemon until the world anew.
"I'm sorry."
It takes an age. Time is a suggestion beat senseless by the insanity of it all. V was never patient, not in any version of her life, but like all things pertaining to Johnny, she's no choice but to wait. Incandescent in the fluorescence of a back alley ripper clinic, he drags her kicking and screaming into the here and the now. A body, close enough to count unless you're willing to look, encapsulates the sum and the total and the ugly in between. Apologies, like rainwater, spill forth from matching mouths. He's her when he should be hers.
"Not yet."
Torn asunder, as if he'd ever turn away, the pain is but a grim reminder of that which he is rejecting and that which he is becoming. Life is but a series of updates, a code ever changing. In the micro, it's shades of blue, constructed in a setting too familiar to divorce. Zoomed out, however, and observed from on high, all that she has wrought and all that he has claimed becomes another gleaming neon threat in an effusive black sky. A body frozen, thawed. A heart stopped, restarted. Lacking in appendages both chrome and digital, Johnny Silverhand takes a breath, and holds deep the air of a new day.
"Could we?"
Of course. The waiting end is still there, in all its romantic glory, and now more than ever, she knows the power of choice. V chose him, chose potential, chose a possibility totally beyond herself. Johnny chose her, chose retribution, chose a future within which she could bloom. It hurts, like all that is too good to be acceptably true, but a little blood and a little burn never bothered him. A creature, alight with arrogant conviction, he’s reshaped it into something important, something specific. She hated the demand people made of her feelings, as if she was beholden to their needs and not her own. Even firmly rooted in this most holy second chance, she is all needles. And Johnny is all leather, sun-cured and willing to ride out the sting.
“I’m here.”
A promise. A threat. Something she can analyze and observe. Dying makes for patience in a man such as he. It’s enough. It’s enough. It’s so very much enough.
“‘Til the end.”
Yet again. Once more, with violent feeling. Love is an action, a choice, a demand. V will take and Johnny will give, and along the way, they’ll choose to switch. Two people, one body, two bodies, one decision. It’s easy, even when it’s not. Even when it shouldn’t be. Even in the end.
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Finally slapped some color on Johnny boy in honor of thirsty thursday 🔥🥃
[deets below cut]
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Please and thank you DO NOT repost my art anywhere!
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daceyarik · 2 years
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excuse me he asked for no pickles??? johnny meanwhile sneaks to switch to morro rock
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