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the-archangel · 5 months

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V for Vengeance

This took ages and is very long I'm sorry! Might be better reading it on AO3 :)

“You don’t know what I’m thinking any more Johnny, leave me alone,” spits V as he stalks down the grimy, neon-flooded street with his collar up against the rain.

“Yeah, I kinda do,” the most recently appointed Afterlife merc explains as he rushes after him, “and this is a fucking gonk idea.”

V had been brewing for days, ever since Kerry told him about the time he’d been kidnapped and held to ransom by scavs. Kerry had intended it as an amusing drunken tale, it’d been all over in less than 24 hours and he’d been that high at the time he hadn’t really noticed it happening, but V was not so green when it came to dealing with scavs, he knew what would’ve happened if the record company hadn’t coughed up the eddies and was determined to fill in the details of the hours that they held the Rockerboy, no matter how unsavoury.

“Seriously V, it was twelve years ago, they’re all either dead or they’ve moved on by now.”

Stopping in his tracks, V looks intently at the dark-haired man, “You don’t have to come with me Johnny, I never asked you to.”

“I know,” answers Johnny darkly, “maybe you should’ve. You’ve got no idea what you’re looking for.”

“Neither have you! You were a data stream living in a freezer at the time, how exactly does that make you any more qualified than me to find them?” It’s a fair point, and one that V knows Johnny is not pleased to be reminded of. “Look, if you wanna help fine, just try not to be a pain in the ass.”

“Can’t promise anything,” Johnny mutters turning to follow his friend down the street.

Kerry had just done one of the best shows of his life – or so the bassist of his backing band tells him as he gives the Rockerboy a sloppy post-gig blow job, despite the best efforts of the younger musician it’s not a relationship, just a habit that they’ve fallen into.

Later, alone again, Kerry messages his kids telling them about the show and asking about their day. He never gets a reply, but he does it every damn day anyway. Then he calls his new manager to see how the attempt to copyright his image is going, but the fucker doesn’t answer, he never fucking answers, Kerry’s beginning to think he made a mistake hiring him. There’s one more call he thinks about making, but he’s had enough rejection this evening and so puts on a jacket and heads out to the waiting car. He doesn’t make it.

“Where’re we going?” Johnny shouts after V’s retreating back.

“Pacifica.” answers the other man.

“Woah, we’re not walking to fucking Pacifica.” states Johnny breathlessly as he catches up.

“Course not, there’s someone I need to speak to first.”

Afterlife is buzzing even at this time of the early afternoon, despite it now being V’s kingdom Johnny’s heart lifts a little at the thought of Rogue maybe being there, her visits are increasingly rare, but it is possible. They make their way over to the bar where V has a quick word with Clair before heading to his usual booth at the back, Johnny makes to follow until he sees who V is meeting, he sits at the bar instead nursing a tequila and glaring over petulantly.

“You’re lucky I was in town,” Panam tells V as he takes a seat opposite her and puts beers on the table between them, “another few hours and I’d have been showing this shithole my dust.”

“I know, thanks for meeting me, and…I’m sorry.”

The woman looks over at him with a raised eyebrow, “Luckily for you I’m a big girl capable of making my own decisions. Something more than we had might’ve been nice, but as far as flings go, it was one of my favourites.” she says taking a swig of beer and sitting back in her seat, one leg resting on the other and arms spread along the back, “But you’re still part of the clan whatever other shit you’ve pulled, what do you need?”

“Info,” says V leaning forward and looking at her seriously, “about twelve years ago Kerry was taken by some scavs, prolly took him somewhere into the Badlands, wondered if there had been any rumours, if anyone knew anything about what happened?”

“Can’t Kerry tell you anything? Surely he’s not gone senile just yet?” she asks with narrowed eyes and a half-smile.

“Heh, you’re a funny girl, but no. He was pretty out of it and he’s kinda blocked it out.” V winces internally at the lie. “So do you know anything?”

Panam takes another swig from her bottle and ponders the question, “Maybe. I was a teenager at the time, a feisty one too if you can believe it, Saul would sit me down and tell me all the reasons why my behaviour was dangerous, or bad for the clan.” V nods, he’s been at the receiving end of Saul’s lectures and knows what they can be like. “Anyway, this one time he was explaining why taking a bike and riding into the town was a dumb idea, he was even more riled than usual, said if the Raffen could swipe a rock star right from outside a stadium, one little girl on a bike would not be able to stop them taking her. Never connected the dots at the time, but I guess he was talking about Kerry.”

“The Raffen huh? I guessed as much, any idea where they took him?”

“No, they had a few bases at the time, I’ll mark them on a map for you.” she says producing a map and pen from her bag, “Saul was a big fan of Kerry’s, shame they never met.”

V hums in agreement, Saul always turned the radio up when one of Kerry’s songs came on and he’d told Kerry stories about the brusque clan leader many times, they could definitely have been chooms. “Thanks Panam, you’ve been a lot of help.”

Panam looks over his shoulder, “Who’s that guy you came in with? He’s been glaring at me for the whole conversation like I should know who he is.”

V chuckles, he often forgets that even people who met Johnny never actually saw Johnny. Before he can explain, the woman interjects,

“Fuck, that’s Johnny Silverhand. I recognise him from Saul’s album covers. That’s Johnny fucking Silverhand!”

Hearing his name, Johnny smiles warily and raises his glass in Panam’s direction.

“Why didn’t he come over with you?” she asks.

Still smiling, V looks over at the dark-haired merc at the bar and lowers his voice, “He’s kinda scared of you, you were pretty angry about him trying to kill me if you remember, he thinks you might try and break his balls over it or some shit.”

“That’s fair, but if the fucker is going with you, watch your back, he’d choose his ego over his chooms any day I’m guessing.”

Once maybe, but not anymore V thinks, but he just nods and finishes up his beer, “Look after yourself Panam, I’ll let you know what I find.”

“Mhm, don’t be a stranger.” the nomad replies giving him a curt nod and walking out of the booth.

Johnny watches as she leaves the bar, “Don’t say it Johnny.” V warns.

“Say what? That she has a nice ass? I’m only human.”

V groans and grabs his jacket from the bar stool, after a last catch-up with Clair they’re ready to leave.

“Need to get the truck from the garage,” V tells Johnny, “it’s gonna get pretty bumpy out there.”

Jogging to keep up with V’s accelerating strides, Johnny is struggling to understand the urgency, unsure as to why they need to head to Pacifica now rather than the morning, it is, after all, 12 years since the attack took place so one more day is unlikely to make much difference. V, on the other hand, can’t get there fast enough, the thoughts of what they might have done to Kerry in that time have been festering in his mind and he couldn’t look the man in the face again if he didn’t do something.

As if he’s read the ex-merc’s mind, the holo rings and Kerry’s tired face fills V’s vision. “Heeey V, missed ya today, what ya been doin’?”

“Just dealing with some business Ker, like I said this morning it might take a couple of days. How’s the song coming along?”

The Rockerboy’s lip curls into a grimace, “Meh, can’t seem to get into the groove, y’know I worry about you when you go out on jobs. Throws me off.”

“I promise I’ll be careful and I’ll call you in the morning, get some sleep babe, be back before you know it.”

“Kay V, love ya.”

“You too ya gonk.” V says softy as the call disconnects and he rubs his temple with his fingertips, it’s been a long day and it’s not over yet, “Johnny, you OK to drive? If I don’t lie down, I’ll fall down.”

“Sure, where we going?”

“The stadium.”

Johnny had only been up a few hours having not got home until the early hours. He’d thrown himself into the merc work and mostly enjoyed it, but music was still his passion, so he’d been doing the rounds of the open mike nights – heavily disguised of course – just to keep his hand in. Problem was, compared to his old stuff, what he’s writing now is shit. The tunes are fine but he’s struggling to find the lyrics; before, he channelled his lust, anger and vitriol into the words, now all he feels is apathy most of the time. He hates to admit it but, he needs help, he needs Kerry, and if helping V with his gonk plan gets him back in Kerry’s good books then it’s all going to be worth it.

Pulling in at the stadium parking lot, Johnny spends a moment taking in how shitty Pacifica had become over the years. He can still remember when it was the promised land, corpos filling the hotels and beaches, not this gang run nightmare before him. It vaguely occurs to him that it’s at least partly his fault, but such thinking could lead to madness so he tucks the thought away to be chewed over another time.

“V, wake up sleeping beauty, we’re here.”

Groggily, the younger man groans and sits up in his seat, “What time is it?” he asks yawning.

“Just after midnight, not much point looking around in the dark, may as well hang here until the sun comes up in a few hours.”

“No way,” stresses V, already getting out of the truck, “this is the perfect time.”

A perplexed Johnny once more finds himself jogging to catch up to his friend, what is he possibly hoping to find after twelve years in the middle of the night?

The stadium is in darkness, the sputtering street lights only adding to the gloom. V stands, hands on hips surveying the side of the building, scanning the area and sighing. The building hadn’t changed much since it was built sixty years ago, flimsy doors, non-existent security, pretty much what he expected, but what had changed was the area. A stadium built so that high-rolling customers could watch a show or game whilst staying in one of the nearby five-star hotels was now next to a derelict shopping mall in what looked like a war zone. Sure, it could still get the big-name acts, but they would travel in from somewhere more salubrious, maybe a place in the City Centre, whilst the audience would make their weary way back to their homes, never once thinking of staying in Pacifica for the evening, no matter how convenient.

Although terrible for Pacifica, this is in fact great for V’s purposes, the same bums and low-lives have been hanging around the stadium for years and their information is cheaply bought. The nearest liquor store is not far away, Johnny follows his friend hopefully inside grimacing as he chooses two of the cheapest 6-packs available and then helps him carry the bags back to a wall near the stadium. “Now what?” he asks.

“Now, we wait,” the other man replies, popping the cap off a beer and wrinkling his nose at the first sip. They don’t need to wait long, a dishevelled, grey-haired man comes shambling towards them with a younger, twitchy-faced man at his side.

“Care for some company chooms?” he asks in a surprisingly refined voice.

“Sure thing, wanna drink?” The older man nods emphatically, while the younger sits silently crossed-legged, glaring at Johnny and V between violent tics.

The conversation is moved along from government conspiracies (probable) and the latest sightings of a mothman (unlikely but possible) to the things celebrities will do for attention, V’s attention has been wavering for a while, tiredness having caught up with him, but the mention of his mainline’s name, as well as a sharp dig in the ribs from Johnny, perks him up.

“That there Eurodyne fella, they reckon it was all for publicity, saw it with my own eyes…”

“Wait, what?” asks V suddenly wide awake, “You saw Kerry Eurodyne being kidnapped?”

“If that’s what it was, he walked out with them friendly as anything, got in the car no problem, chatting like they were best chooms.”

V is momentarily stunned into silence, processing what he’s being told, “What…what kinda car was it?”

“Nothin fancy, some sort of Thorton. Remember thinking what an odd shade of blue it was, like the sky at dusk.”

Johnny interjects, “Yeah, poetic as all shit choom, tell us everything.”

The concert goers had generally been a happy and generous bunch, the bum and his chooms had made a good few euros and scored a few beers and were sat, nicely mellow, waiting for their second chance as the crowds emerged from the stadium. Before that could happen, a side door swings open and a smiling Kerry strides out to the waiting car flanked by what looks like a couple of suited bodyguards and followed by a red-haired woman with a Valentino’s jacket and a distinctive silver leg. In his youth, the man had been a huge fan of Eurodyne’s, posters all over the walls, shelf full of his records, but he hadn’t been so keen on some of his poppy later stuff, so it’s with detached interest that he watches the Rockerboy be led out to the car and directed into the back seat. He seemed in good spirits, clearly high as a kite and slightly unsteady, but not seeming to be in any discomfort, for which V was grateful.

V and Johnny leave the men with what’s left of the beers and make their way back to their car, V is quiet and pensive which is making Johnny nervous.

“They tricked him,” V concludes, “they knew how confused he got when he’d been partying and they tricked him.”

Johnny tries to hide a smirk, the thought of Kerry being so out of it that he didn’t even know he was being kidnapped not only seemed likely, it was not even the first time it had happened. There was that time out in Miami in the 20’s when a deranged fan took him home and fed him pizza and copious amounts of wine before the rocker was found wandering the streets the next morning in a borrowed tuxedo, but V doesn’t need to hear about that just now.

The description of the red-haired woman is making V’s brain itch, there’s something familiar that he can’t quite put his finger on. Johnny drives them into the Badlands whilst V leaves a message for the Padre and falls into a disturbed slumber.

In his dreams, V’s leaning on a bar listening as Kerry tells him about his day at the studio. The Rockerboy is hyped and animated, pacing the room and drinking from a tequila bottle. He comes over placing his hand on the ex-merc’s chest and leaning into a sloppy kiss that ends with a bite on the bottom lip hard enough to raise a gasp.

“Something to remember me by.” Kerry smirks as he pulls away.

“Why, you going somewhere?”

Kerry puts his hand on the door to the exit and turns, smiling sadly. Then he’s just gone, disappeared. V searches the room frantically, calling Kerry’s name and pushing on the door, but no one answers and the door won’t budge, then Johnny’s voice is calling him,

“V, shut your whining. You woke me up from a real nice dream you fucker.”

The truck is where Johnny parked it in the early hours, shaded from the mid-morning sun by a boulder which also serves to shield them from the road. V groans and stretches, he’s had the full eight hours for the first time in weeks, but still feels like he’s been kicked in the head, and back, and kidneys. “Where are we?” he asks the grumpy ex-rocker groggily.

“’Bout five miles west of Panam’s first marker on the map.”

Nodding, V gingerly leaves the truck, rubbing life back into his legs he leans against the rock to take a much-needed piss, cursing softly as a call comes midway through. Thinking it best to leave the call on audio only for now he greets the caller as cheerily as he can manage, “Morning Padre, thanks for getting back to me.”

“Always a pleasure to be able to help out a brother in need. What can I do for you?”

“The woman I described; do you have any info on her? She rings a bell with me but I just can’t place why.”

“She is called Selene, she was a friend of your mother’s when you were very small, but she left the fold twenty years or so back, went to live with the Nomads so I heard. If you find her, tell her she is forgiven and will be welcomed back.”

“Selene, of course! Any idea which clan she went with?”

“Nothing for sure, though I think the Raffen would be her style.”

V sighs, it’s what he expected if he’s honest, but he hoped otherwise. “Any ideas where she is now?”

“None. I am expecting another call, but wish you luck in your endeavour.”

Thanking the Padre, V wanders back to the truck checking the map and planning a route for the day, he flops down next to Johnny with his back leaning on the tyre of the truck and takes the cig from the other man’s fingers. “I’m thinking if we work smart, we can cover all three camps before dark, then this time tomorrow we can be heading back.”

Johnny nods, working smart is not something he’s often accused of but he can give it a try.

V drives the truck to within a couple of miles of the first possible camp, concealing it as best he can between two ridges and makes his way to higher ground with Johnny following grumbling behind.

“Don’t know why we had to set off so fucking early, it’s not like they’re going anywhere. And what’s with all this fucking gear we’re carrying? There’s, like, an arsenal and enough water for a week, I thought we were here for the day not setting up camp.”

V gives a half-smile as he squints at the horizon, Johnny’s whining is actually quite a comfort to him, it means the world is working as it should, “You’d be surprised how much water you get through in the desert Johnny, and we don’t know what we’re up against, better to be over-prepared than under don’t’cha think?”

Johnny grunts non-committally and returns to his binoculars, “What exactly are we looking for?”

“Any sign of movement, the camp should be over to the East by those rocks, looks abandoned but we don’t want to go storming in and find a cave full of scavs coming out to meet us.”

Having established that the camp at least appears to be all quiet, the boys stay low as far as possible and cover the last two miles without incident. The camp has clearly been abandoned for some time; empty crates litter the ground inside the mouth of the cave which was the main living quarters of the camp. Mildewed bunk-beds line the walls, nothing of value has been left behind, no handy clues. Sitting in the mouth of the cave sharing a bottle of water and a cig, V optimizes the route to the next camp whilst Johnny squints critically at a shard he’d found on one of the bunks,

“The Benefits and Drawbacks of Adaptive Technology and its Impact on Society at Large, huh.”

“Hmm?”

“Nothin, just some chip I found.” explains Johnny tossing it in his backpack to maybe read on the boring ride back later.

Their next destination is almost thirty miles to the north mostly over flat ground but the last few miles are a challenge even for the Mackinaw that bounces from dune to dune and jostles its passengers unrelentingly. Johnny clings onto the grab handle biting back his criticisms of V’s driving for fear of being left in the middle of nowhere to find his own way back. It’s a good choice. V had also had enough of the challenging terrain and was in no mood to deal with Johnny’s shit.

“Gonna have to park up for a while, this shitty truck is gonna work my optics loose if we carry on much longer.”

“I think there’s a gas station just up there,” Johnny points hopefully towards a fuzzy, gas-station shaped building on the horizon, “we could aim for that, regroup, grab some food.”

Food sounded good, they hadn’t eaten since the previous evening and the sun is now right overhead, there’s some jerky and trail mix in the truck, but they hadn’t got quite that desperate yet. The building is indeed a gas station, not only that but there is an outdoor seating area where they now are eating reheated burritos and sipping on mercifully chilled water. Johnny squirms uncomfortably in his seat, there are many benefits to having a flat ass, leather trousers hang well, chicks dig it, but long road journeys are just a pain in it.

“So, what’s the next plan of action?” he asks V in between bites of his disappointingly bland lunch.

“The guy in the store said there’s still some Scav action out here from time to time, so we don’t wanna go storming in, just in case. We’re still about four miles out, just over that ridge should be an old farm that they were using as a base.” V tells Johnny indicating a distant sand dune. “We get the truck to this side of the ridge, sneak around and see what we can see.”

Johnny nods, aiming his screwed up empty foil into the trash and smirking as he hears it rattle around the can and hit the bottom.

“Shit.” hisses V as he scans the farm buildings from the top of the ridge. There is clearly movement, things being loaded onto trucks. It looks like they might have caught the goons just as they’re moving on, which does not suit their purposes at all.

“Think fast Johnny, what do we do?”

Johnny looks up briefly whilst lighting his cig, the light of the match illuminating the surprised look on his face, since when does V ask his advice about merc work? “We could wait til one of them is separate from the group and bring them over for a little chat?”

“Mhm, there’s a guy over there keeps disappearing off for a smoke, we could follow the ridge around and see where he goes.”

Just as V had said, around five minutes later the man dumps a crate in the van and makes to the back of the substantial barn where the van is parked, the mercs (V is allowing himself the title back, just for a couple of days) follow along and down the ridge until the sharp smell of the man’s sweat and cheap cologne assaults their noses. Luckily for them, he is concerned only with checking his messages and not expecting to be forcibly dragged over the rocky ground with a gun to his head and a hand over his mouth.

They really should have decided what to ask him before dragging him behind the ridge, after all, he was clearly too young to have any knowledge of the kidnapping, fortunately he helps them out,

“Aw I knew you’d catch up to me sooner or later, I’ll tell you anything and I’ll run to the hills if you let me go, you’ll never hear from me again.”

Johnny and V have no idea who the guy thinks they are, but can’t pass up such an opportunity,

“We’ll think on that,” Johnny tells him, “all depends on how good the info you give us is.”

“Looks like you’ve been keeping busy,” V chips in, “what have you been doing out here these past few, er, weeks?”

As promised, the man spills everything, the camp has been here for several months though he’s only been with them for three weeks, other than a few local raids nothing of any note has happened. They are moving East to an old warehouse that was used in the 60’s as a base, to join with another faction in order to pull off some heist. The whole shebang is being run by a woman with faded red hair who’s name he didn’t catch who was here a couple of days ago but has since returned to the warehouse.

With a pistol-backed warning not to look back, they watch the man sprint into the distance and think about their next move. The warehouse seems to be the last place Panam marked on their map so they don’t need to follow the goons in order to find it, in fact it would be better to get there before them so that there’s less to deal with, but not searching the farmhouse might lead to them missing a vital clue.

“How sneaky are you feeling?” V asks Johnny.

“I can do it if I have to, but I’d rather just shoot them in the head.”

“Maybe when your aim improves, we’ll go with your plan, until then, follow me up to the back window.”

Johnny opens his mouth to say something, but for once thinks better of it and follows V up onto a dumpster, across an awning and in through a handily open window, dropping silently on the other side into what appears to be a command centre of sorts. There are tables and chairs scattered around, empty wrappers and cups, but nothing that presents as a clue.

The next room has been used as sleeping quarters, sheets are strewn around, pillows scattered, and the smell from the unwashed linen and half-eaten food left on all the available surfaces is almost unbearable, Johnny finds it almost overwhelming, he’s still getting used to having his senses back and is having to fight against the urge to pass out from the stench.

The last room on this floor is smaller but had been kept neat. There’s a cot in the corner with the sheets removed and a few bits of sparse, but clean furniture.

“Nothing in here to see,” says V rattling a drawer back into place just as a goon, who’d been hiding behind the door waiting to make his move, hits him clumsily but solidly on the shoulders and flies towards the stairs to make his escape. Johnny takes chase narrowly avoiding a door to the face as the man flees the building, he needs to bring him down before he can alert his chooms and so dives for his legs sending him heavily onto the gravel and drags him, thankfully dazed and quiet, back into the house. Meanwhile, V gingerly opens one eye staring into the painful void before him, his optics soon adjust and the bedroom floor slowly slides into focus.

A dull thud and a muffled groan later, Johnny reappears and offers his hand to help the fixer up, he grudgingly accepts and leans his weight onto the Rockerboy as they make their way gingerly down the stairs and over the battered body of the fallen goon to watch the outside activities through a grimy, cracked window.

“The way I see it,” offers V massaging life back into his left shoulder, “we can either wait here until they leave and check the place out properly, or forget about here and make our way to the warehouse while it’s still light and before it’s full of murderous Scavs.”

It’s a no-brainer, a couple of minutes later they are back in the truck putting together a route away from the roads leading from the farm and sharing a cigarette. The devil in Johnny has a question to ask, “How d’you think Kerry’s gonna feel when he finds out you’ve done all of this without asking him?”

“Well he’ll…” V realises that, in a certain light, his actions could be construed as selfish, controlling even. Although he meant well, he hadn’t really considered Kerry’s feelings in all of this, there might even be a reason he never told the whole story. “I just need to call someone…” he murmurs, leaving the truck and disappearing around the corner.

Some minutes later a red-cheeked ex-merc hops back into the truck and silently starts it up, knuckles white on the steering wheel, Johnny gives it a few minutes but has to ask,

“Kerry is pretty mad OK?”

Johnny nods, he knows how Kerry gets when he feels betrayed, he realises that, to his surprise, he feels bad for his friend.

“He said that I shouldn’t’ve gone without telling him where I was going and that I shouldn’t’ve put myself in danger for him and that we were gonna have to have a talk when I get back.”

“Aw V I’m sorry…”

“Nah, it’s fine. Think he just wants to vent at me. Had to promise to call him every couple of hours and to tell him everything we find out, he really can’t remember what happened and wants to know, even if it’s real bad.”

It’s a long and boring journey to their final destination, Johnny has been on a self-improvement kick lately and decides to look at the shard he found earlier. He was expecting a book, but opening the case he realises that The Benefits and Drawbacks of Adaptive Technology and its Impact on Society at Large is in fact a BD, possibly the dullest one ever but a BD just the same. Rummaging around in the glove compartment he finds a wreath and settles back in his seat ready to expand his mind. Twenty minutes later his mind is definitely blown, though not necessarily improved in any way.

“V, choom, you gotta see this,” he says groggily, clumsily pulling the BD wreath through his tangled hair.

“No thanks, m’driving. Not a good mix dipshit. Besides, sounds super-dull.”

“So pull over, I promise you, you REALLY need to see this.”

The scene opens with a stuffy lecturer in an office outlining how far cybernetics have come in the last hundred years, never one for schooling V can feel himself drifting off, but less than three minutes in the scene abruptly switches to a smoke-filled room, possibly a bar, with a dozen or more people sat at makeshift seats and tables. V recognises one, “That’s Selene!” he says out loud to Johnny. A commotion indicates another person entering the room, a slightly dishevelled Kerry comes stumbling in with hair flopping rakishly over one eye and his denim shirt open to expose his recently installed chrome. V adjusts himself in his seat, damn that man is hot.

“…and then later that night, “Kerry was clearly part way through a story when he had left the room, “he came over again. Can you believe it? But this time with a gun and a bag full of drugs. Security fucked him up and threw him out and the drugs made for a preem after-show party!”

The assembled ‘audience’ laugh and clap, an inhaler makes its way around the room as do various bottles, all of which Kerry happily partakes in. The next few minutes are mostly this, blurry partying and a babble of chatter, the room seems to be hanging on every word the Rockerboy says and Kerry is lapping it up. Suddenly, the atmosphere changes. The recording whips around to focus on the red-haired woman who seems to be receiving a call, biting her bottom lip and nodding slightly as her eyes glow green. The room quietens, even Kerry, though he seems to be in some kind of drug and alcohol induced stupor anyway. The camera follows Selene out of the room into a gravel patch covered with parked cars and overlooked by an old wind turbine,

“Jeez, are you sure?” she asks, “I mean, of course I believe you but he’s a rock star for fucks sake, there must be somebody who’ll pay. What about the ex-wife?” Selene nods again, “What a bitch, I thought they had kids? And they say we’re the bad guys. OK, fine, it’s a shame though, he seems like a nice guy.” Her eyes dull as the call ends, she checks her revolver and strides back into the bar.

A whispered conversation later the filming cuts off as Kerry is being man-handled off the tatty sofa.

V removes the wreath and sits stunned in the driver’s seat of his truck not quite sure what to do next, Johnny gently takes it from his hands throwing it onto the rear seats and looks at his friend with concern. “You good?”

“I guess.” V replies thoughtfully, “He can’t know.”

Johnny nods in agreement, “So where next?”

“We carry on,” decides V, “still don’t know what happened next. I mean, they didn’t flatline him, why not? Gonna talk to Selene.”

Dusk is approaching when they reach their final destination, as it draws near the familiar outline of the now even more dilapidated wind turbine hovers into view. “This is the place,” Johnny erroneously announces. “We just gonna walk in and start shooting?”

“Jeez Johnny of course not, we want information don’t we, not total carnage?”

Johnny shrugs in a non-committal way.

V had just come off a holo-call with Kerry, he had told him about the bar, about the scavs hanging on his every word and about how hot he looked. He felt bad not telling him the whole truth, but just couldn’t see what good it would do. “You can stay in the truck; I’m going in to talk to them.”

The old Rockerboy was about to argue, the look on V’s face was more than enough to stop him. “Just be careful, I don’t wanna have to explain to Kerry why you’re coming home in the trunk and not the passenger seat.”

Leaving the truck and passing his half-done smoke over to Johnny, V puts his hands deep into his pockets and begins to walk towards the warehouse building, well-aware that there would have been eyes on him from the get go. Johnny has his eyes on a sniper behind an upstairs window, but for now V appears safe from their target practice.

As he nears, V puts his hands in the air and turns around then, a couple of meters from the door he stands and waits.

Up until now, the goons have not shown themselves though it’s obvious they’re around, dozens of vehicles are strewn around the gravel and a deep-thumping beat can be heard coming from inside. A hum indicates the rising of the shutters, rust rains down as they rattle open and a man of indeterminate middle-age dressed in makeshift armour appears.

“Don’t move. Who are you and whaddya want?”

“Name’s V,“ he yells across the distance cocking his head to one side, “your goons can stand down. Just want to talk to Selene.”

The name obviously means something to the other man, he raises an eyebrow and comes a little closer to the ex-merc. “And what’s your biz with Selene?” he hisses.

“No biz, she was a friend of my mom, just wanna talk to her.”

“Vincent?”

The deep, southern tones of the woman he knew in his youth are unmistakable,

“Selene, yeah, erm, hi.”

The chrome is covered in a dark blue boiler-suit and her always striking green eyes are hidden behind shades, but the red hair, less vibrant but still luxurious would have given her away anyway.

“Vincent honey, it’s been twenty years. Why you out here looking for me in the ass-end of nowhere?”

“Twenty-two, just wanted your help with something.” V says cautiously lowering his arms.

“Course sugar, come inside. How’s Martha?” The woman asks, wrapping her arm around V’s waist in a way that seems oddly familiar and leads him inside.

Small-talk exhausted, V is led down a narrow, graffitied corridor and into what seems to be a common-room of sorts. Selene clearly has some power, the assembled goons are variously reverential, sycophantic or dangerously protective, V has rarely missed the comfort of a revolver in his pocket as much as he does right now.

Back at the truck, Johnny is making bad decisions, having thankfully dismissed the idea of going in after V with all guns blazing regardless, he has now decided that since he is out of the way for a little while it’s a good time to call Kerry.

No one answers the first time, it’s early evening so Kerry could be getting ready to go out, or maybe napping, there’s even a possibility he’s just ignoring the call. Johnny tries again, this time an annoyed face fills his optics almost straight away,

“What?”

“And a good evening to you too Kerry.” Kerry rolls his eyes and waits for Johnny to continue. “Just thought we could, you know, catch up.”

The white-haired Rockerboy stares back incredulously,

“I saw you a week ago when you came bothering Vince, more’s the pity, had nothing to say to you then, even less now.”

“Ker, we’re going through some stuff to help you out here, a little bit of….”

“Whaddya mean ‘we’? Shiiiiiiit, you’re there with him aren’t you? You’re both gonna fucking get killed. If he gets hurt cause you fucked up I’m gonna personally rip off that good arm at hit you with the wet end. Sheesh. What you bothering me for anyway...has something happened?” Kerry asks in sudden alarm.

Johnny shakes his head in what he hopes is a comforting manner, “Chill choom, he’s just talking to some chick,” Johnny notices Kerry bristle slightly, “we’re nearly done, should be back in a few hours. I was thinking…maybe we could…y’know, get together for a jam when we get back?”

The other man puts the drink he is holding carefully down on the coffee table and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “Say that again.”

“I just thought, we could maybe, recapture a bit of that old magic.” Johnny says awkwardly.

“You know I don’t need this right?” asks Kerry, “My last album went fucking platinum over night, I sell out stadiums choom. What’s in it for me?”

“V would like it if we got along.” Johnny wasn’t trying to score a point, merely musing, but it strikes a chord with Kerry nonetheless.

Kerry sighs, “Fine we’ll give it a try. If I hear the magic word.”

Johnny still can’t get used to Kerry having the upper hand, but he needs him on side, “OK fine, please.”

“Get that man back in one piece and we’ll talk.” The call cuts off abruptly and Johnny slumps back into his seat, that’s the scariest shit he’s done all day.

V is sat looking more confident than he feels opposite Selene at a rickety wooden table in a room reminiscent of the one on the BD. He’s hyper-aware of being watched by several pairs of distrustful eyes, even if he wanted to try something stupid, he’d never make it out alive.

“I doubt you really came all this way to talk over old times,” says the woman softly, “I’ve seen the scream sheets, the feeds, you’re seeing that Rockerboy feller, that Kerry Eurodyne. If you’re here for vengeance it’s not gonna end well for you Vincent my sweet boy.”

“No, not vengeance. We found this.” V hands the shard over to Selene who hisses through her teeth and whispers urgently to one of the assembled goons.

“Someone fucked up, that’s not for public consumption, but if not vengeance then why are you here?”

“Information. Kerry clearly didn’t get flatlined that night, made it home safe the next day, how? Why? What happened in between?”

Selene sits back in her chair staring V in the eye like she’s deciding which version of the story to tell, she decides on the truth…

The car is crowded, the two scavs are in the back with Kerry slumped between them and Selene with her bodyguard driving are in the front. “Where we taking him?” asks the burly hustle.

“Out to Biotechnica Flats, but near the highway so that he’ll be found quickly, can’t let the Corpo scum think they can take us for a joke, I think they’ll get the message when their poster boy is being brought home in a body bag.”

Around half an hour into the incredibly dull journey a deep voice pipes up from the rear seats, “Hey, erm, Selene, I don’t think he’s breathin’.”

“Shit, shit, shit. Stop the car!”

In some ways, this is ideal, saves them a messy and unpleasant job, but having him flatline from an overdose of partying rather than a gunshot isn’t exactly the message they’re trying to send. The car squeals to a halt on the deserted highway and the men in the back drag Kerry’s unresponsive body onto the scorching tarmac, where he sustains his only major injury of the night, a cracked elbow.

“Fucking Hell Clive, do something.” Selene screams at the bodyguard, but his specialty is bullets not heart attacks so he stands staring with the rest of them, until…

“Of course he’s got Trauma Team Platinum.” Sighs an exasperated Selene as the distinctive AV hovers into view. “Leave him, we need to delta. If they see us we’re fucked.”

The quartet hastily scramble back into the car and, with a screech of tyres, turn back towards the warehouse leaving the Rockerboy at the side of the road. Selene watches the action through the rear camera, as he gets lifted into the AV she reflects on how fucked they’re all going to be when the boss finds out.

“And we’re you? Fucked I mean.”

“Woo yeah, got my guys taken off of me, lost my position, my son, Charlie, got shipped to the other side of the country. It was rough. But you know what? I was glad he got away, he seemed like a good guy. Not his fault the corpos and his shitty ex fucked him over, yeah it was fine. I still smile whenever I see him on TV or hear him on the radio, and when I heard that my little Vinny was his mainline I knew it had happened for a reason.”

Selene takes V’s hand and leans forward to look into his eyes, “I’m pleased for you, of how things have turned out, but you know a lot about us now, where we live, what we do, and I can’t hold these guys back forever. You need to leave and don’t talk to anybody about what you’ve seen and heard here.”

V nods and Selene walks him to the shutters and out, “Be safe V,” she looks over to the truck, “and say Hi to Johnny, we had a lotta fun back in the day.” V hides his shock well and heads back to the truck to meet Johnny who is leaning fluidly against the passenger door.

“So, did ya find out what you wanted to know?”

V thinks for a moment lighting a cigarette and passing it to Johnny, “I can’t say that I wanted to know all that, I’ll tell you about it on the way home.”

The story does not surprise Johnny in the least, Kerry’s behaviour was pretty standard even back in the Samurai days, ‘cept back then it was a hopeful punch to the chest or a friendly ripperdoc that brought him back around. “How much you gonna tell him?”

V gives a deep sigh, “Just what he needs to know, tricked by scavs, rescued by Trauma Team, no need for the rest.”

Johnny nods, lying to save someone’s feelings doesn’t really sit well with him but it’s not his biz, and V’s right, Kerry doesn’t need to know the rest.

The ex-merc’s optics glow green as a call comes in, his favourite face fills the screen, “V, hey. I miss you, you heading back? Find anything out?”

“Not much, be home soon. I’ll tell you then…Ker?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

#cyberpunk 2077 #kerry eurodyne #kerry eurodyne x male v #kerry is my muse #johnny silverhand #cyberpunk v #kerry x male v #cyberpunk kerry #v cyberpunk #kerry x v #johnny and v as friends

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procyo9 · 1 year

Text

HOLY SHIT I DID IT!!!!!!! JFHEKJGHSKJHFDASHFGSDJK

ok now im getting anxious lol GOTTA GO

WHOLE THING CAN BE ALSO FOUND UNDER THE CUT!! LOVE Y'ALL

as always Crystal belongs to @quaddmgd :3

"Rogue I beg you, please anyone but Palmer? You know I-" "Listen, kid. You come to me asking for help, and I'm giving you help. If you think you're in a position to cherrypick who you 'like' to work with then you either grow up and go talk with Panam or leave." Elegy clenched her fists and stormed out of the booth, bumping shoulders with some stranger on the way out. She was so angry she felt like burning something down; why does it always end up like that? At this point she'll never get her street cred anywhere. She leaned against a wall, not feeling like going home empty-handed. She needed a drink - something to soothe her nerves and give her fuel to think. Elegy raised her sights to look for Claire, who was occupied with-- oh, it's that pretty girl.

She's been coming to Afterlife a lot lately and quickly got recognized among other solos as someone who should not be messed with. Many wanted to work with her, but she prefered working alone; she was an ex-nomad, after all. She probably had to learn to rely only on herself to survive without her family. To be honest, Elegy was a little jealous - she tried really hard to become independent but her ties kept a tight knot on her. No matter how good her skills were, she still was forced to rely on others to help her with matters she couldn't resolve on her own. It can be exhausting sometimes, asking for help - however stupid that sounds.

"Eh, don't worry C, Nix has his days. Afterlife is full of gonks that would pay you just to have a chance of working with you." "I just wish... He didn't need to be so harsh about that." The girl with colorful hair sipped the last of her liquor, soft expression present on her face. At this point Elegy caught herself staring, and she hid her face under her bangs. But did she hear right? Crystal needed Nix's help? Why would she- "Also, you know I prefer working with people who know their stuff. Can't let another gonk die on me," she played with her glass, turning the melting ice cubes inside left and right, much like Elegy's stomach at this moment. She wanted to scream 'I KNOW MY STUFF,' at the top of her lungs, but obviously that wouldn't work. She needed to approach her somehow. She had to.

***

"Heard you need help with some netrunnin'?" Suddenly the seat beside Crystal wasn't empty anymore, and her eyes met with black orbs radiating with confidence. "Did you listen in on us?" She shifted from a relaxed pose to a more stiff, ready-to-act one. Maybe it wasn't the best idea, but it worked! "Listen, Nix knows his shit and all, I get it. But to be honest? I can do anything he can - if not better - not counting the fact that I'm simply just a lot cooler to be around. You should ditch that old ex-corp, he and Rogue can go be pains in the ass together in that shitty booth of hers," Crystal's soft expression was long gone, replaced by way more annoyed and suspicious one. "Huh, you do gigs for Rogue?" "Sometimes. When she doesn't pair me up with assholes, that is." Elegy fiddled with her fingers, watching her hands; somehow her confidence began depleting, so she decided - it's now or never. "So, how about that - you help me, I help you." "Well, since you did listen in; what makes you think I'd just go and risk my life with a random gonk-" "You might wanna tune in and listen to the news then; rerun is about to start." Claire shouted from another end of the counter, serving drinks to a group of young mercs. Crystal's eyes shot back to the blue-haired gal, who just shrugged and turned her head to the TV.

The news lady began going on about the latest case of a corporation being targeted by a cyberterrorist known as The Plague; after their last attack, more than 2000 Biotechnica employees were stalled in their work. All employees on-site were found unconscious and poisoned, with no damage other than their security being compromised - there were traces of some top secret documents being stolen, which seemed more like a nasty joke left by the attacker rather than a slip-up. “The nasty joke being a dick. Drew it myself,” Elegy commented on the news, her hands intertwined behind the back of her head like some laid back anime character. All she got in response was a ‘I am still not convinced’ smirk, as Crystal went back to playing with her - now completely empty - glass. “They’re still clonin’ humans. Got all the evidence backed up on a shard, but got nobody I trust with it yet,” her expression was serious now, and she meant it. “They clone them, force them to think and feel, and then they experiment on them. Playing fucking god… No matter how helpful they were during the energy crisis and food industry, this is beyond fucked up.” "Holy shit,” a small chuckle escaped from Crystal, who seemed rather surprised by the sudden change of tone. “That really does sound fucked up. And you really pulled off something like that all by yourself?” “Well, can’t doubt Claire.” Elegy beamed a smile at the barkeep, who winked back while still working her beverage magic. ”They used to call me The Omen at first, it’s all silly really but still, that’s what I get for having a ‘signature move’ or whatever…” She began to ramble a bit, feeling the heat in her gut rising with every positive reaction she got out of her soon-to-be partner. “Hm. Okay. Tell me what’s up with that gig. I think we might work together quite well.” “...You mean it?” “Yep. So? Gimme something to work with!” “!! Okay, so there’s this new smart link prototype-”

***

“So if I help you steal that prototype for your Ashura, you’re gonna help me with cracking the security? That building is tight as shit you know-” “Yup! You won’t even have to lift a finger. In and out.” “And you need me because… You can’t drive a car?” “Yeah!” Her innocent smile was devastating in a way. Crystal couldn’t believe it at first, but it seemed that this girl was serious. “What the hell. Let’s do it. I’m Crystal, by the way.” She reached to the bubbly one next to her, with the intention of shaking her hand. Elegy returned the gesture with a little bit of hesitation, but quickly pushed all those feelings of doubt away - this was a time for celebration. “Elegy! You know, this calls for a toast. You ever tried David Martinez?”

#otp: nothing's gonna hurt you baby #.opk #elegy #crystal #cyberpunk 2077 #oc: elegy yukimura

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rolangf · 5 months

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Andie/Sam + 1, 12 Celeste/Thanatos + 9, 17 Bianca/Panam + 2, 21 Odette/Smoke + 20

And you can do 31 for any/all of them 🫡🧡

GOLD RUSH

—1. what drew your character to their love interest and vice versa?

sam was not immune to andie’s general aura of warmth, because who doesn’t wanna be around the physical manifestation of a ray of sunshine fr? andie is generally comfortable to be around and provided a much needed sense of warmth— a feeling that had evaded sam for so long. and even tho andie would never admit it, his silly charm worked on her so she was more than happy to stick around for his sake.

—12. do they have similar goals? if they clash, how do they deal?

andie doesn’t necessarily care abt the artifacts that they hunt so much as the journey to get there. there is so much history to absorb and she gets lost in it, while sam is more goal-oriented. of course, he’s gonna appreciate the craftsmanship and the history but he isn’t gonna spend so much time basking in it as andie would. sometimes he has to give her a gentle nudge to keep going cs “there’s still so much ground to cover, andie” while she’s just climbing a building to see it all before her as god intended. anyway.

—31. share anything you would like about the couple!

andie will not drink a cup of coffee unless sam makes it for her. he gets the sugar to cream to coffee ratio perfect every single time and he did it once for her, just so she could have a cup and hopefully enjoy it. she didn’t really— she is still much more partial to tea but when she needs a little bit extra caffeine she brews a pot of coffee and sam just. knows to make her a cup.

RITE OF THE SANDS

—9. how open are they with their feelings?

it’s like pulling teeth to get either of these two to openly talk abt any kind of feelings whatsoever. good thing they have literally all of eternity to figure this out cs they will both put it off for as long as possible. most of it isn’t intentional tho, than is goddamn busy with mortals killing each other and celeste is just. thinking abt other things. like weaving the strings of time and evading questions abt the outcome.

—17. their ways of expressing their love.

quality time. than especially doesn’t have much time to spare so whenever he gets a minute, he’ll hang out with celeste in the house. or she will desire a change of scenery lest she drowns herself in the styx, so she’ll hang out at the balcony with than, overlooking the hoards of souls coming through and making idle chit chat. it’s their favorite part of the day. or—night? whenever.

—31. share anything you would like about the couple!

there are three of those little white butterflies that hover around thanatos hovering around celeste when she’s in the house without him. when he’s in the house, they leave her and presumably just. go wherever the others go, but when he leaves they return to her and just. exist in her orbit. a memento, perhaps.

LIVE FAST, DIE YOUNG

—2. what was the first moment that they knew they were in love with their love interest?

panam had hung out at afterlife while bianca was doing a dj set for some extra cash and decided to hang back to compliment the craft. bianca was infatuated after that fr

—21. personally, do you think they are a good couple?

i do!! i think they compliment each other very well— live fast die young bad girls do it well you know. jk but fr panam is such a ride or die and bianca is fun and fresh and they just. have so much fun. bianca is always doing something new and looking for excitement and panam i think likes to be along for the ride so they’re really just best friends that are in a committed relationship. it works 🫶🏻

—31. share anything you would like about the couple!

bianca lets panam fiddle and tinker with her car when she’s bored. panam has literally tricked the fuck out of bianca’s car just for fun— she installed a neon light kit, a spoiler, put a wrap on it, modified everything under the sun.

SMOKE & MIRRORS

—20. did either person change at all, to be with their partner?

their whole thing is “it’s rotten work.” “not to me, not if it’s you.” so it’s a lot of both of them being traumatized and choosing to love each other anyway, which morphs them back into the people they’re supposed to be. you know? the love they have makes them feel like people again so they act like it. so not really a change so much as a.. reverse burial. an exhumation if you will.

—31. share anything you would like about the couple!

odette is an artist at her core so she sketches a LOT. like a lot— i’m talking sketchbooks on sketchbooks. she has a few with dress designs, measurements, ideas, etc but a lot of them also have portraits and quick sketches of her friends, her family.

but she also has one sketchbook that’s just. all sketches of smoke. she pulls it out when she misses him while he’s away in earthrealm. sometimes she adds to it, others she just flips through it and ends up falling asleep with it. she’s a little obsessed with him idk

#WHEW #aisling this was so fun #an exercise in actually thinking abt lore and timelines and stuff #sheesh thank you so much this was LOVELY #🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻#asks #oc: andie la croix #oc: bianca vionetti #oc: celeste #aisling #x: smoke and mirrors #x: gold rush #x: rite of the sands #oc: odette haliçi #x: live fast die young

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arcandoria · 1 year

Note

∇ -. old age/aging headcanon for Dante and anyone else you feel like answering for.

HEADCANON MEME | ANSWERED

∇ - old age/aging headcanon

Due to being a full werewolf, Dante not only will likely outlive Panam, it'll also be by a good margin. I'm skeptical that Nomads have the same access as rich people from NC to slow-aging treatments, so Panam has a healthy and full life but still very much bound by biological human constraints.

All things considered, Dante is "okay" with outliving his wife because they live the best they can and enjoy all the time available to them, and Dee, their daughter, will still be around for the remainder of his life (she can be a grown woman all she wants, that's his baby girl and he's gonna be there for her as long as he can).

It's gonna be a hit on him for sure, but looking back on all they enjoyed and built together and feeling like no moment was wasted, Dee all grown up, the clan thriving etc, it's really all he wanted his life, feel like he accomplished something good for once.

Dee on the other hand is only half-wolf, and although she will live a little longer than a regular human due to partial lycanthropy, won't get as old as her father. She does not take after Panam in leading the Aldecaldos however, and instead takes Carol and Dakota's place as the veteran netrunner and fixer for the clan.

Whoever becomes new chief still ends up locking horns with her every once in a while - as she gets older, she gets as stubborn and bossy as her mother when she sees fit.

#Dante Alkan #Dee Palmer #thank you Ron!#hc meme #otp: high octane

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pcrtgasdace · 1 year

Text

finally finished cyberpunk. only took me like what felt like half a year, but i also spent over 100hours on it and i'm pretty sure i missed some quests and gonna be forever bitter that we couldn't join/affiliate ourselves w any gang (maelstrom!!!!!!). got a little emotional at the end, leaving johnny w alt didn't feel right... 🙃 but yeah, gonna miss this chaotic duo they were. also, judy and panam are best girls, so overall still pretty happy my v got friends & a family to be with after all. wish there'd have been an ending w johnny that would have felt more satisfying tho 😭 and kinda sad that takemura hates me now.

#zira.txt #cyberpunk 2077

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gloryride · 9 months

Note

Oscar for Virgile and Yoyo for Vanessa? :3

Thank you for these asks for my two main babes💞💞 was really fun to answer, didn't expect things were so obvious !

answers for A to Z nsfw asks

VIRGILE

O - Oscar - Do they enjoy role-playing?

Virgile likes it a lot. It all started when he was still a nomad. He already had this cowboy style, and his dates were already saying save a horse, fuck a cowboy. It stayed very light, based on you're a cowboy out in a barn, and I'm coming to wake you up, or you need a rest after a day's riding, nothing elaborate, but fun. And occasionally.

When he came to Night City, he started to lose himself in a lot of excesses he wasn't allowed to. So he started going to clubs to meet people and learn about other aspects of his sexuality. In particular, real roleplay. He was often a bit stoned, but enjoyed stepping into someone else's shoes to forget who he was. Then he met Valentin, who became his best friend, but also a sex partner with lots and lots of libido and ideas! They often worked together, infiltrating each other with new identities, and sometimes, even very often, screwing under his identities. They were husbands, they played businessmen, bankers, handymen, chauffeurs, etc….

But the one who really introduced him to it was Evelyn. He would have done anything for her, so when she suggested he play a bit, Virgile accepted straight away. And it's probably one of the best things she's left him. She often had excellent ideas, and gave Virgile enough space to express himself. Sex in general was probably the healthiest part of their relationship…

Since he's been with Panam, he does rather less, but sometimes the two nomads have a bit of fun. She's the most motivated, but Virgile appreciates it, especially when she's so creative! Now it's occasional again, when they feel like it.

VANESSA

Y - Yoyo - What does their toy collection look like?

Vanessa has a very fine collection. For her, it's very important to be able to satisfy herself alone, or to expand the possibilities when she's with someone. She has some in her bedroom drawer next to her bed, a box in her wardrobe, and two or three in the bathroom for fun in the shower. Before she was with Valentin, Vanessa didn't have sex that much; she's a picky girl and likes the seduction game almost more than the act. But she wasn't bored: her womanizer or rabbit are more sure to satisfy her than someone bringing her back from a club! In addition to toys to stimulate herself or the other, she has a few accessories like handcuffs, a soft duster, blindfolds, and of course, lingerie for every occasion (even if she didn't wear 1/4 of it).

One of her favorites? The one Valentin gave her. Before he was a merc, he did various jobs, one of which was casting his sex to make a toy. He offered it to Vanessa, specifying that it was 100% natural, no Mr Stud, and that she could have fun with it before opting for the original. When she received it, she first looked at the comic book that came with it (that's when she really wanted him), and was impressed by the size! So when he left town, she told him she had his replacement. He also bought her a vibrating panty where he keeps the remote control. They're very good at the game of "nothing happens, everything's fine" … only to jump each other in the end!

#about : vanessa vergara #about : virgile sarto #nsft asks #nsft #both were really obvious #sure i have some lore about it somewhere #but you chose very well may !#thanks for asking !

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moderndaycirce · 1 year

Text

More post!canon baby thoughts:

Kerry is the first person told (As in previous post: Johnny's freak out led him to his best friend who tells him to stop being an ass and to go back to V: “Seriously, Johnny? If there was one thing I learnt from my ex-wife it’s that you don’t fucking upset a pregnant woman.”)

They keep it quiet after that, coming to terms with the whole concept. They lost almost the first three months to not knowing, so they don't want to tell people until they get used to the idea. She's 22 weeks before they actually go public with it, but some people know before then.

Claire works it out the day they found out when V doesn't drink or smoke the whole night when she comes to work. She doesn't have to say anything, just silently shows V that she's switching out her gin with water when they're alone later that night. She's a real bro about it.

Nix finds out few weeks later cause he's a nosy fucker who can crack the ICE on Johnny's holo and personally saw to the ICE on V's. He doesn't really do anything with the information, he's just a runner who likes to hoard data.

The second person they actually tell is Rogue. V calls her one night, freaking out that she can't be a fixer AND be a mother. Rogue immediately flies back to NC and takes V for coffee, reassuring her that she'd be able to do it. She manages to make V laugh when she reminds her that they forgot to tell her they got married because she was on the other side of the world, so she's happier that she got some warning this time. She sticks around NC for support and covers for Virginia for a few weeks once Millie is born. She expresses afterward that she's very happy that period of her life is over, but still comes back again five years later when Sylvia comes along.

The rest of Samurai have suspicions, especially when V is around and Kerry is practically VIBRATING with excitement and being very careful around her. Johnny's busy trying to play it cool, which Kerry almost ruins multiple times. By the time she's about 18 weeks pregnant Nancy, Denny and Henry are all convinced she is, but they agree that it's a big deal for Johnny's "I'm a changed man" thing, so they let it slide until they tell them. At 20 weeks it's getting harder for Virginia to hide the bump, so Samurai are finally let in on the big secret. They bet on the sex of the baby, with the whole band thinking it's a boy. By now, they know it's a girl, so they just let the band debate it out.

Virginia tells Misty and Mama Welles at the same time around the 20 week mark too, she doesn't see them as often as she'd like due to how busy her work is. Misty claims she's known the whole time. Both Misty and Mama Welles think she's having a girl.

Panam finds out with the public at 22 weeks, which she's furious about but the Aldecaldos were off the grid for weeks. V tries to argue that she has been trying to call her, but Panam gets all pouty and stubborn. She calls back after fifteen minutes, screaming with excitement once she got over that she was the last to know.

#cyberpunk 2077 #virginia fox #cyberpunk post canon tag

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mtreebeardiles · 1 year

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Chasing Storms, pt 8

Interlude III: Before (Rogue) also on AO3!

The Afterlife was known for having its fair share of interesting characters.

Part and parcel for the sort of biz conducted in its converted halls and backrooms, and the fact most of Night City was under lockdown after the attack on Arasaka didn't impact its patronage any. Harsher regulation as to whom gained access, additional security measures in place for all none of the Afterlife Mercs claimed responsibility for the havoc wreaked on 'Saka's systems, but Rogue hadn't lived as long as she had by getting careless.

So even with the true culprit safely hidden away with the Nomads, she kept the vetting system strict as a matter of course while the city adjusted to its new normal.

Left us a lotta fires to put out, kid. But she couldn't deny that she was impressed with what V had pulled off: a solo attack on the tower, so far as she could tell, accepting this unlikeliest scenario as the truth given how pissed off all his friends were. Panam had been all but spitting nails when Rogue reached out to her and the Aldecaldos, demanding to know what the fuck V had been thinking charging in there all on his own when he'd known he could've called on them for help.

His reasons weren't of immediate interest to Rogue, though, and she'd endured an impressive twenty minutes of Panam's hot air before finally losing her patience and asking if the girl and her clan were still willing to help him in the aftermath.

An immediate yes, a few more calls, and Rogue had learned the crazy son of a bitch hadn't called a single damn soul for help before running what should have been a fucking suicide mission all by himself. Johnny, she'd long since deduced, did not count as support -- moral or otherwise, though she had to wonder how much of it had been his idea.

Never thought you'd go after Smasher without me. It stung for some reason, even though logic told her it was best to let it go. Smasher was dead, Johnny was gone, and V…

V still wasn't responding the last time she'd seen him.

No way to know what he'd encountered in that tower, what he'd found in its depths. No way to know how he'd made it as far as he had, how he'd hacked into one of the most secure access points in the City -- hell, probably the most secure in the country -- nor any way to guess how he'd crawled his way back out again. Broken, bloodied, what few words he'd had left calling out for a ghost that was no longer there…

Then nothing.

No words, no recognition, gaze turned inward, unresponsive to voices, to touch. Hollowed out and empty, save for the fact that his brain was still showing signs of activity and his heart was still beating.

Rogue had seen plenty of fucked up shit in her years as a solo, as a fixer. But that sight had unnerved her, stuck with her, and maybe it was all the threads that connected them together -- threads originating, of course, from Johnny -- but enough of it was just…V. His honesty, the way he held his principles without turning them into platitudes to preach at others, and she hadn't been lying when she'd said it'd been easy to tell the difference between him and Johnny. V's face wasn't meant to smirk like that, and for all the kid was tough as nails she felt confident in concluding he hadn't a mean-spirited bone in his body. Maybe spite, but it was spite that had to be earned first, and nothing approaching what Johnny had been capable of harboring.

Unusual, for a merc. Potentially fatal.

He just made it work.

She resettled in her booth, fresh glass in hand, and gazed out at those gathered at the bar, at the high-tops, huddled in the other booths. Wondered if he even knew how often his name fell from their lips, how many mutual contacts had asked her if she knew anything about where he was, if he was even alive. No direct connection between 'Saka and V and she made damn sure it stayed that way, but the kid had been crafting his own legend all along that broken, jagged path he'd walked. Made good with more than one fixer, direct requests for his services ticking up the more work he did around the City, and she could only shake her head at how short-sighted Dex had been to try and waste such incredible talent just to save his own ass.

Karma, at least, was still a bitch.

And he did it all with that clock counting down, every single day, getting sicker and sicker. Maybe tenacity was tempered by not having much left to lose, or maybe he just was tenacious. Had never stopped chasing a solution, grit and determination unblinking against impossible odds and maybe that's what disturbed her the most about his current condition:

It seemed too much like giving up, when she'd been convinced that concept wasn't in his vocabulary.

Slowly the City began to recover from its shock. Lockdowns lifted section by section though the threat of reinstatement hung over all their heads. But people were getting out again, the streets filling with traffic pedestrian and vehicular, gangoons and mercs and working folk alike easing back into an approximation of how things used to be. Heavier NCPD presence, tensions running higher than ever, everyone wondering when the next shoe was going to drop. Too hard to believe that 'Saka's infrastructure had been all but decimated, their subnet in the City shredded, and Rogue couldn't exactly blame them. It was harder to see the scope of the damage in real space, the ruins of their 'Net not as immediately impactful as a smoking crater where a tower had once stood, especially since the tower was still there this time around. It hadn't felt like a terrorist attack the way it had back in '23, and only the most perceptive of 'runners could appreciate how devasting the blow had been.

But there were other things, other hints that all was not well beyond rumors and the heightened security presence. More funding shifting towards Militech fed whispers of oncoming war, of an opportunity to strike while their greatest rival was down, threats of drafts and the fallout of another Corpo war enough to keep even regular citizens on edge.

Needless to say she anticipated an uptick in work for mercs and solos, and the amount of jobs flowing through the Afterlife in the weeks after was enough to prove her right. The bar's capacity swelled back to what it had been before, though most of the security remained, and so it was that Emmerick contacted her directly when an unexpected guest arrived nearly a month after the attack.

"Got a rockerboy here to see you."

Rogue frowned, setting aside her glass with a sigh.

"I'll be right there."

Maybe it shouldn't have been such a surprise, really, to find Kerry Eurodyne on her doorstep. He'd called her right after the attack, after all, had reached out for her help, eddies in hand, and she didn't doubt some of their own shared history had played a part in that. Still, she hadn't seen much of him since, no contact beyond sending her the money owed for arranging care and transport for V, and she wasn't entirely sure why he was here now.

Rogue didn't like being in the dark, and uncertainty made her cranky.

"Come with me," she said by way of greeting once she'd found him at the club entrance. Didn't comment on how he looked like shit, like he hadn't been sleeping much, tension obvious in the way he held himself. Didn't remark that the sunglasses only hid so much and he was still pretty recognizable with that chrome at his throat, with those rings on his fingers, but maybe he wasn't actually trying to hide.

Maybe he was just hungover, and the glasses helped manage the light.

She didn't take him back to her usual booth all the same, opting instead for one of the smaller, private rooms in the lower basement. Even if he wasn't trying to keep people from recognizing him, she had a feeling whatever they needed to discuss would be a conversation better had somewhere with less eyes and ears on them.

He didn't say anything as he followed after her, silent still as he settled in one of the chairs and waited for her to claim the other seat. She set her glass down on the table and crossed one leg over the other, examining him for a moment. He didn't look any better in this light, face drawn and tight, and her guess about a hangover seemed right on the mark when he winced upon taking the glasses off.

But he didn't put them back on, instead hooking them in the collar of his shirt before he leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees.

"Was wondering if I could hire your services again," he began, voice rougher than she remembered. Kerry'd always had a natural rasp to his voice, but this was deeper, more tired, hoarse in a way that suggested a tight throat holding back all the things he really wanted to say but couldn't.

"Depends on what, and how much it'll run you," she replied. And, because she couldn’t seem to help herself, she added, "is this about…V?"

A nod, and Kerry huffed out a sigh.

"Got some tips about a…procedure. A treatment, that…that might help him?"

"Like a shrink?"

"Not his mental state," the man clarified. "The Relic is um… it's still killing him."

Rogue felt coldness settle in her gut even as she frowned.

"Thought we already confirmed -- Johnny's gone, so why…?"

But Kerry was shaking his head, running a set of fingers through his hair. "It was pretty advanced, by the time he did…whatever the fuck he did, to get Johnny out. Nanites or some shit, I'm not too clear on the jargon, but… it's still overwriting him. Still deteriorating…" Kerry trailed off, words locked away again, and Rogue didn't push. Her own thoughts were racing, flicking through her connections, her contacts, determined that there was something there, some resource…

"He knew."

Kerry's whisper, interrupting her process and drawing her back to the present. She looked over at him, not understanding. Blue eyes rimmed in gold met her own a moment before dropping back to his hands. "V knew he wasn't going to make it."

"What do you mean?"

"He told me."

Rogue blinked. V was talking? Why hadn't anyone told her?

Why would they?

It's not like they'd been friends.

"He told you…?"

Another breath, this one shaky, but Kerry's voice was stronger when he continued. "Told me that even though Johnny's engram had been removed, he was still going to die sooner rather than later. Six months, maybe a bit more. He's… still coughing up blood. Panam and their Nomad ripper confirmed with scans that it's still fucking…still fucking killing him. After all that shit, all he did…"

Kerry's hands clenched tight against his knees, but his eyes were clear when he met her gaze again.

Determined.

"But there's this treatment -- something they developed for MS. Can repair and rebuild neural tissue, and if someone can adapt it, maybe…"

Rogue nodded, leaning forward and mirroring his position, elbows on her own knees. Refocused her attention, tapping into relevant databases and pulling up the best places to start. She was familiar with the treatment he meant, had heard about it on and off on the news and in radio casts, but hadn't paid it much mind, before. Hadn't had a reason to. But now…

"Think you can help?"

"I'll see what I can do."

V had never stopped fighting, after all.

And neither would she.

#my writing #male V #nomad V #Vincent Aiello #Rogue Amendiares #Kerry Eurodyne #Kerry x V #Kerry x male V #Cyberpunk 2077 #Chasing Storms #yeah ok guess this is def my unofficial nano project now huh

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alpharedfield · 2 years

Text

@torntruth said: Judy honestly gets so relaxed, no filter, when she's had at least a couple of drinks. It shows. She's just sitting in the chair, leaning back, legs spread - she looks so damn comfortable. A soft smile curling her lips. "V, just out of curiosity. Like, pure curiosity-" A pause to take a drink. "What does Panam think of threesomes?"

V had matched her output drink for drink that evening. It took a little coaxing from Panam for her to agree to drop by and the nomad appeared pleased to see that Judy came along as well. The couple spent as much time together as they could after their night at the lakeside bungalow—V had even settled into Judy's apartment since then. She kept her mega-building apartment for storage purposes only now. Goro the cat seemed content at his new digs (plus he kept Judy company when she worked or when V wasn't around) and the three of them seemed to have formed their own little family together. At present, V was idly puffing away at a cigarette. Letting it dangle from between her lips while she went through the messages on her holo. The bottle of Broseph she'd been nursing from sat in the sand beside her chair, dampened from condensation and forgotten for the time being. She pocketed the device when Judy spoke, her dark blues almost black in the evening's dying light. Flickers of gold and orange danced across her face from the fire pit in front of them.

"Heh." V dipped her head with a smile. If she wasn't several drinks in she would've probably blushed. "She's a real heartbreaker that one." Another puff of smoke was followed by a soft exhale, grey wisps billowing from nostrils. "I shot my shot with her when we met. Twice," she admitted, making a finger gun and mimicking two shots. A dopey, lopsided grin was directed at Judy. "Never stood a chance, I think." The merc stretched her legs out, crossing the ankles after reaching for her beer. Deep down she couldn't really view Panam like a sister—not when she was that damn attractive. A spitfire gal, she was. And not to mention adorable when she tried to express herself and got all sheepish. Hell, half the clan used to have a pool going to predict if they would get together or not. Saul had let that one slip over drinks. Panam just laughed and affectionately patted her on the cheek when V's face turned red but it was more so teasing than Panam finding the idea ridiculous. But Judy didn't have to worry one little bit. It was her who V's heart beat for. "Buuuut, if you asked real nice, 'm sure she would consider it." V snorted with laughter at her joke, the expression of mirth almost foreign on her, and half-heartedly cursed when she spilt beer onto her pants.

She spotted Panam sitting at the bar as she brought the bottle back up to her lips and they looked at each other for several long seconds. V raised a hand and waggled her fingers in greeting which made Panam flash a smile. The nomad stood a bit too quickly in her state of mild inebriation, almost staggering into Mitch but recovering last second. V glanced over at Judy. "Wanna ask her...? Looks like she's comin' over." Of course the merc was just teasing. She, too, lacked a filter when drinking. All inhibitions were thrown the wind along with any caution. A hand reached out to settle on Judy's thigh and squeeze it reassuringly. "You know you're my one and only girl, right?" she murmured with as much tenderness as she could muster. "Best girl."

She meant it with all her heart.

#torntruth #i like that idea a little TOO much uwu #drunk judy is great haha uwu

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wanderingaldecaldo · 8 months

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📓 (i'm really curious what you have in mind !!)

Hi @gloryride!! I've got just the one for you...

I'm a sucker for angst, as you probably know, and I especially love exploring the angst CDPR left us with, with V having six months to live. My first playthru involved me calling Panam and Judy from the rooftop—literally moments before I fell for Mitch—and that is still my favorite canon ending: V and her two best girls leaving town.

So this daydream fanfic involves the same situation. This time it's not Val, but another V. She leaves with Judy and the Aldecaldos and they head out in search of a cure, but there isn't one to be found. V still dies, leaving Judy feeling adrift with Panam's family and wondering if she still belongs there.

While Judy is dealing with her grief and guilt, Panam is too. V was never shy about flirting with Panam, even though she didn't reciprocate those feelings. After having spent six months watching V and Judy, she begins to realize she was wrong, that she does harbor feelings for V; but of course it's too late because she's happy with Judy after Panam rejected her.

V dies, and both Judy and Panam grieve over what they've lost: Panam because she lost her best friend and the woman she pined for; and Judy because she lost her partner, someone she had pinned all her hopes on when she left Night City.

Panam and Judy grieve together, and Panam finally has the courage to admit to Judy that she was in love with V. Their grief brings them closer, and they hook up—at first just as a way of dealing with grief, and eventually they are able to sort through all the emotional baggage and be together on their own terms, and not just because of their shared love for V.

Send me a📔and I'll tell you about an unwritten fanfic that I daydream about!

Linking the post for anyone who wants to share it themselves—I think I might be running out of daydream fanfics lmaoo

#gloryride #writing asks #ask meme #mail time!#wash's writing #cyberpunk fanfic #judy alvarez #panam palmer #judy x panam #are there any judy/panam ships already?#there should be #thanks for the ask! ❤️

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hangedemperor · 3 years

Photo

#TW; Cyberpunk 2077 #V #My precious #Not FF related #But holy shit #Gangs of new york much #third time the charm #aldecaldos #panam best girl after all #night city legend #moustache #something wrong with the tattoo tho

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g0dspeeed · 3 years

Text

Liar, Liar

For @constantzeigarnik

"V unabashedly flirting with Viktor, just laying it on real thick for the ripperdoc, and Viktor just not being prepared for it in the slightest."

“Liar, liar.”

The words came out in a tired sigh with a voice that hopefully sounded as indifferent as V intended.

The pair was laid out on the hood of Panam’s latest wheels, eyes closed, and cold drinks in hand. After helping the Aldecaldo get the ride from a locked storage yard, V had offered to relax beneath the shade of a highway overpass while they waited for the client to arrive. Panam accepted without a second thought. Between the two of them, a break from daily survival in Night City seemed in order.

Supposed to be chill.

Just two friends sippin’ on a dry afternoon.

No worries.

No stress for an hour.

That was before their present conversation, one that V was trying desperately to avoid.

“Yeah, I’m the liar here,” returned Panam. “And Night City is family friendly. At least I’m not the one in denial that my ripperdoc has the hots for me.”

V turned to shoot her friend a dark look. The nomad smirked as the warning fell flat. Despite V’s best efforts, Panam could see right through her: She was absolutely fuckin’ right.

“Think ya’ got it all wrong,” V maintained in a cool tone.

“Oh, do I?”

V cringed.

“Only met the guy one time,” Panam said. “Felt like a third wheel between the two of you eye-fuckin’ each other. Almost walked outta there see what that psychic girl was sellin’.”

A new warmth began stinging V’s cheeks and Panam frowned at her friend’s lack of response.

This was new territory. Seeing V react this way was beyond strange. One of the most capable people Panam had ever met was turning red over a man. Borderline bizarre. Truly, the entire conversation was out of the norm.

“Shit,” muttered Panam. At her best efforts at being soft, she added, “Don’t feel bad, V. The guy’s stacked like a fucking truck.”

At that, V finally let her guard down. She grinned as Panam gently shoved her shoulder.

“There she is. Just let that denial fade away-”

“Fuck off.”

“What the hell are you afraid of?” asked Panam. “Rejection?”

V looked at her energy drink, swiveling the liquid around before relenting.

“I mean, yeah, kinda.”

An eye roll and a heavy groan came from the woman beside her.

“Yeah okay,” said Panam. “Like he’d reject a woman half his age, much less a badass like you. V, I saw it for myself. The guy thinks you’re hot. Caught ‘im lookin’ at your ass. Not only that, he cares, like genuinely cares about you, which says a lot for people like us. Next time you see him, just lay it on thick and be done.”

V scrunched her eyes shut at her friend’s advice. Just talking about openly pursuing Viktor Vector made V’s stomach twist into knots. As much as she was the badass that Panam knew her to be, for V to explore an actual romantic relationship outside of ‘eye-fucking’ and the occasional one-night stand with some rando from Afterlife was not something V was familiar with. Her days were chaotic. Her lifestyle was that of constant motion. Viktor, in all his edginess, was stable, consistent, and secure. Also, she enjoyed the subtly they shared, the skirting around the topic of their flirty friendship, or whatever it was, from the safety of fleeting looks, suggestive undertones, and the occasional wink.

Then again, if V were honest with herself, it never seemed to be enough. V couldn’t deny that each time she left his clinic she wanted more. Craved more. More time, more privacy, more touch. She was her own worst enemy in all of those categories, always the first to shy away, to change the subject, to wander off.

“Worst case scenario,” breathed Panam. “He’s not interested in dating someone younger. Or just wants to be friends. That’s fine. Whatever. Should that happen, you delta outta there, lay low for a few weeks, find a new doc, and move on.”

“I can’t just delta out of his life,” groaned V. “He’s been my ripperdoc since I came to Night City. He’s also one of my closest friends-”

“Ok, then suffer. Fuck! Just do something. You’re killing me with this in between bullshit.”

Hours later, their conversation from under the overpass played on repeat inside V’s head. Panam cannot sugar coat anything. She might be physically incapable of doing that. Her words came straight from the heart and that’s what made what she had to say so sincere.

That is at least what V was telling herself as she steadily made her way down the steps to Viktor’s clinic, hands clammy, and body keyed up.

Part of her hoped that he was out or tied up with a patient. Maybe he would tell her to come by later.

She scoffed.

What a stupid thought. She was too quick to forget how often he invited her to stick around if he were operating, how she would wait at his workbench or nap on his crusty couch in the back. Sure enough, she could hear the man whistling below, the cheery sound echoing to where she hesitated. She swallowed.

With a final deep breath, V summoned up the bravery to walk through the metal gate.

Hunched over his operating chair, Viktor appeared to be wiping down between appointments, his rich voice humming along to some song in his head. V watched for a moment, taking in the serene sight before approaching the ripperdoc.

“Surprised you’re not watching a match,” she said.

The humming stopped. His head cocked at hearing her voice.

Without turning he responded, “Aren’t any on right now or you know I would be.”

The rag was tossed down and Viktor shifted to look at her.

V’s stomach flipped. His blue button-up was stained with a dark, oily substance all over the front. The top buttons were either missing or dangling from bits of string, leaving the shirt partly undone and exposing his undershirt. V’s eyebrows furrowed as she noticed a small crack that cut in the corner of his glasses just above a small nick on his cheekbone.

“You look-”

“Like shit?” he finished with a grin.

Viktor crossed his arms, drawing V’s attention to his thick biceps in a knee-jerk reaction.

“Bet so,” he continued. “Someone brought in his friend after a run in with the Tyger Claws, all blood clots and broke teeth. The gonk was scared out of his goddamn mind. Took a toll just to sedate ‘im.”

His smile had turned into a smirk, something confident and full of swagger as he told his story. He wore it well, mastering the balance found only in seasoned residents of Night City, of those who earned their street cred by way of blood, grit, and never backing down. V’s lips pursed at how his eyes looked to hers past those dark lenses.

Here would be the part where V ran away, ran from opportunity, from her feelings. He dared to look at her the way he did in that moment, so smooth, so confident. The man had to know. Viktor had to recognize how he affected her, had to notice how her eyes appreciated his physique, how her complexion warmed when he touched her. His frame had turned to face hers, all broad shoulders and aftershave.

She could step back.

Look away.

This was where she could coolly suppress her attraction and change the subject.

But not today.

“Here,” she said warmly.

V stepped close to the ripperdoc, shrinking the gap between their bodies as her fingers gently plucked the man’s glasses from his face. Viktor blinked in surprise and swallowed as she studied the damaged lens with a critical eye, her own smirk pulling at her full lips.

“Gonna need new ones, doc,” she told him.

Next, V carefully folded the glasses and slid them onto the collar of her top. Viktor’s eyes tracked her movements before quickly glancing away. Ever the gentleman.

“But don’t worry,” continued V. “The rest of you I can remedy.”

He chuckled.

“The rest of me?”

V looked up. She nearly gasped. For Viktor to wear those damn shaded glasses was a sin. The bluest blue that V had ever seen, his eyes were deep like ocean water. There was longing in them. Desire. He adored V for standing so close and showing such concern for his wellbeing. Christ, she could get lost in those eyes if he kept looking at her like that.

To answer his question, V tugged at the hem of his soiled shirt. He stiffened.

“Are you tryin’ to say that you like being covered in… whatever this is?” she mused.

“Well, no-”

In a near whisper, V begged, ��Then come on, Vik. Let me play doctor for once.”

Fuck.

The way she was looking up at him with that smile, those bedroom eyes, leaning close like that with her fingers tugging on his shirt and talkin’ in that sweet, sexy voice.

Who was Viktor to deny her?

He sighed out a ‘Fine’ and nodded in agreement. Consent confirmed, V went to work. V’s fingers moved to undo the remaining buttons of his shirt, but Viktor stopped her hands. His own hands were warm, a little rough with scars and callouses on the tips and knuckles. In response to V’s questioning look, Viktor grabbed his shirt and ripped the buttons loose with a jerk. They pattered at their feet.

“Trash,” he stated as he slid his arms free from his shirt. Like the buttons, it went airborne and landed in a nearby biohazard bin.

“Hey now,” warned V with mock annoyance. “I said let me play doctor.”

“Oh am I being a bad patient?” returned Viktor.

To his surprise, V placed her palm at the center of his chest. Her fingers flexed gently against his undershirt, making Viktor’s heart race. She then gave a gentle shove.

“The worst,” she teased as Viktor let her push him back into his own operating chair.

Even if he wanted to, there was no way that Viktor could hide his smile. He was at a loss. What in the world had gotten into V? Not that he was complaining of course, but he was so used to waiting. The flirting, the winks, all those playful innuendos had been going on for such a long time. By now, Viktor simply accepted that she wouldn’t push it further, that their friendship or whatever they had, consisted of only those teasing moments. Nothing more. In the end he believed that V didn’t want anything deeper with the ripperdoc. And that was fine. A bummer, but fine. Didn’t feel bad about it. Didn’t resent her. She was younger, a wild one who made a hobby out of recklessly injuring herself doing God knows what in the city. The man wasn’t new to women or intimacy, and with a woman like V he thought it best to let her set the terms, especially considering that she was after all his patient. A patient who ate his food, slept on his couch, completely ignored his work schedule, and called him ‘pretty boy’ on the regular. A patient no less.

So imagine how fast his heart was racing as her fingers softly cupped his cheek, at how her body leaned in close as she inspected the small cut beneath his eye. Viktor tried his hardest to look off into nothingness rather than at her breasts. Tried to ignore how delicious she smelled. Was she wearing perfume-

“Breathe, Vik,” she mumbled. “Can’t have my first patient black out on me.”

She fucking winked and that goddamn smirk of hers graced her lips.

“I, uh,” he began. He laughed, a bit too nervously for his liking. “I’m sorry, just, just distracted. It doesn’t hurt that much, ya know.”

“How’d he get ya?” asked V.

To Viktor’s disappointment, V stepped away from the chair and walked towards his workbench. He didn’t miss how her hips swayed or how she bent over to grab his medical kit in a nearly exaggerated manner. The way she looked into his eyes while she straightened, all slow and sensual with those curves of hers, went immediately to his dick. He swallowed.

“Um,” he said stupidly. “He, uh, headbutted me. With his head.”

“Ouch,” she replied.

Before she returned to the flustered ripperdoc, V shimmied out of her bomber jacket and tossed it on his workbench. A tattered crop top pulled against her skin as she shook out her dark hair.

Viktor had the decency to rest his hands in his lap to shield the effect that the merc had on him.

Her tongue wet her lips as she fished through the kit for what she wanted. The glance she shot in his direction proved that there was no innocence in the act.

What the fuck was happening?

That question repeated itself over and over again in his mind as she again bent closely towards his body to apply a Q-tip to the wound, offering another delicious view of her ample breasts.

“Can I get some feedback, doc?” she asked quietly.

Viktor swallowed, his mouth dry like sand.

“Yeah, kid,” he replied lowly.

V paused her work to truly look at him, to gaze into those gorgeous eyes of his. Then, all calm and collected, V perched herself next to him at the edge of the operating chair. Viktor allowed her some room as she cupped his cheek with her other hand, her breasts resting on his torso as she leaned into him. Her thumb ghosted his skin, tempting. Teasing. Viktor ignored the urge to press against the throbbing hardness in his pants. The cut long forgotten, his attention was caught up in V’s eyes, the warmth of her skin, her smell, the sultriness of her voice.

“Do you want me?”

Her mouth was so close to his. The warmth of her breath tickled his skin like static. Viktor’s eyes shut in anticipation as V slowly drew herself to his lips.

He felt nothing, but heard the soft tear of paper. Viktor’s eyes fluttered open, brow crinkling in confusion. V had sat up and was unwrapping a small bandage, her eyes fixated on the task while he gaped at her. When it was open, she reached out and carefully applied the bandage to the cut on Viktor’s cheek.

“All done,” she stated in a chipper tone, a wide smile stretched from ear to ear.

Viktor smirked.

“Oh yeah?” he questioned. “Think you’re hot shit giving this old man a heart attack?”

“Think I gave you more than that, pretty boy.”

Her eyes flickered to his lap and back to those ocean eyes. Viktor sat up in the chair, his hands not budging as if his life depended on it.

“You never answered me,” said V, the playfulness gone from her voice and replaced with a feeling that Viktor found it hard to describe.

There was no mystery, however, to how he felt in hearing it. His heart melted at her words, at how the game was finally over and that she, beautiful V, wanted to know if he wanted her. A stupid question, really, but an important one all the same.

“Ah V,” he said with a sigh.

Panic alit her eyes like fire, but it was quickly doused as Viktor took her by the hand.

“Of course I do,” Viktor replied earnestly. He gave her hand a small squeeze. “I’d be a fuckin’ liar if I didn’t.”

For whatever reason, Viktor saw V blink as if there was something odd in what he said. The moment was short and quickly forgotten as V embraced him so hard that the pair fell back in his operating chair, his arm wrapped around waist and his lips pressed into her hair.

#viktor vector #cyberpunk 2077 #im tired af #ripperdoc

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haphazardlyparked · 3 years

Text

the war AU

@gingerly-writing originally i started this as a response to your captured solider/person-enemy general thing but then it just turned into a whole bunch of self-indulgence sooooo

(i'm a softie at heart??)

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

"Masara," a voice hissed in her ear, and Masara came back to her senses, only to swallow back a groan. Her whole body was an ache that burned at the edges, part magical exhaustion and part old-fashioned beating.

"Arlis," Masara murmured back, trying not to move. Trying to catalogue her hurts before she tested them, trying to remember what had happened. She did not say, You young fool.

Masara's heart––already burning her chest with grief and war––had leapt into her throat and turned to fear when she'd seen Arlis emerge from the tunnel pass, adept enough with the spells that she could open the hidden routes on her own. Masara's young, foolish squire, who had followed her because she thought her knight-mistress had gone off to do something brave, when all Masara was was reckless, desperate––and desperately hopeful.

Panam as heir was safe, the king was on his way to the Yina stronghold, and Fathmir, who had been at the holy mountain's summit since the new moon, could be made High Priest soon. The heart of Amir would be preserved, even though Amirasa had fallen. Even though things might had been different, before the assassination and the war.

Masara knew her part now. She was the most experienced knight traveling with her uncle––fleeing, navigating the twisting paths and hidden tunnels that wound through the foothills of the Endless Ridge. The king had to make it to the safety of Mount Yina, and that was worth Masara's life.

In some small measure, Amir would survive, watchful and isolated while her southern lands became a battlefield between two imperial powers. Ancient Lapur to the southwest, hemmed in by the Blasted Plains, and Kas to the northeast, a young and eager threat.

Masara had dreamed of her kingdom’s waning. She had felt the shadow of death hanging over her head since Panam had brought news of the High Priest's assassination.

When she had volunteered to lead the pursuers away from the king's trail as he and a fragment of his court ran for holy Yina, the king had faced her as her father wold have––grieved, yet proud. But he had faced her as her king, too, grimly resigned to her sacrifice.

"You might have been one of our greatest queens, if my sister and I chose differently," he had whispered.

Masara could scarcely meet her uncle's eyes.

"I dreamed a fire would burn away my future, during my rites,” she confessed. One did not usually speak of the visions, if there were any, but Masara thought she could ease her uncle’s conscience. “When Panam came with word of my father's death... I already knew how this could end. This is my decision, Uncle."

"May the Lady Sascrin guard your path, Masara," the king said.

The knight knelt, and kissed her uncle's hand, and when she rose––when the king drew her to her feet to hug her one last time, the farewell embrace she never had from her father––she smiled.

"It will be your job to look after Arlis now,” she said when they pulled away from each other. She stepped back.

Arlis was a jealous squire, and would likely be furious when she realized Masara had ridden to battle without her. Later, she would come to understand that she was too young for this.

And then the little fool had burst from one of the rocky passages, into the pitched skirmish while Masara charged a company with a twilit illusion, riding alongside moonbeams, and dropped the bridge to cut off pursuit of the king’s path.

She thought the destroyed bridge would been a good place to die, right up until she saw Arlis and realized with a ringing clarity, Not now. Her squire needed her.

Masara's vision filled with molten silver, magic in her hands and spitting down the length of her blade, and Arlis flickered across the field in her mind's eye, a star to be guarded. When they reached each other—the knight a blur of spell and steel, her squire a smaller whirlwind no less fierce for her youth, and Kassan footmen with their blue-rimmed shields and clumsy swords—Arlis screamed, and Masara's world exploded.

In the tent, when she opened her eyes, the physical ache seemed to coalesce in her chest as she put everything back together again.

There was her beloved, fool squire whom Masara would protect with her last breath; and beyond that, all the things that threatened her.

Masara and Arlis were tied side by side to foldable campaign chairs, which was quite civilized, all things considered. She could see spells crawling on the walls of the tent, and smelled the distinctive sting of burning a sharp, distinctive incense. Natural inhibitors of magic.

"Do you know where we are?" Masara spoke. Her voice was cracked and barely audible; her throat dry as dust. Unlike Arlis, she was tied to her chair by only one arm, because the other was broken. She woke with it cradled against her chest in a sling.

"I'm sorry, sir, I––” Arlis began urgently, quick and breathless, all the words she'd been thinking while Masara was unconscious now tumbling out. Masara let her relieve herself. "I shouldn't have followed, and then I ruined your plan and you went down––and I panicked. I surrendered. I thought they were going to kill you!”

“You did as you should have done, Arlis," Masara assured her squire when she fell silent. “I am grateful to be alive."

It was true. Masara had made her peace with her sacrifice, but she hadn't wanted to die. If she could live––and she had somehow, for Arlis or thanks to her––she would. (She wondered if this meant her vision was wrong; or if there was another fire threatening her horizons.)

"But Masara," Arlis mumbled. “You weren’t about to surrender.”

“That only means you have proven yourself wiser than me.”

“But... I told them who you are.”

Masara considered her broken arm––splinted and bandaged, carefully tended to like the rest of her battered body, and found Arlis's confession did not surprise her.

"And yourself, too?" Masara asked.

"Yes."

"Good," Masara said firmly. "We are alive now, and I will not see you die, Arlis."

Her squire knew enough to hear the grim promise.

"Sir," she acknowledged. "I don't think they'll hurt me. They think I'm a child––a poor, misguided girl-child who accidentally maimed some soldiers..." Arlis indulged in a little complaining, and when Masara recalled her visit to the Kassan court years ago, she decided Arlis was probably justified. And yet, they still burned the incense; they still spelled the tent. They were cautious.

"They were horrified when they realized you were a woman, and that was before I explained you are a high lady," Arlis continued. "After that, they bundled us up and had a surgeon come; you were stabbed through the shoulder, by the way. I tried to do what I could, on the road yesterday. They put us in a wagon and set a guard. They don't think very highly of me, and didn’t notice I what I was doing."

Masara considered that, and realized that was why that whole upper side of her hurt, not just the broken arm.

"Thank you, Arlis," she sighed. "It's called battlefield healing for a reason, and you've always been one of the best. I am fortunate." It really wasn't much more than cleansing wounds and dulling pain, but it was more than nothing.

Arlis grinned. "Am I better than Guira?"

Masara ignored the question, as she always did. She smiled, and then her lip split. Grimacing––carefully––she asked, “How long was I out?”

“The rest of the evening and all of yesterday. We stopped last night, and I slept, so it may be morning again,” Arlis reported. “You destroyed the footbridge we used, and that was the only easy path for a large party, so they've had to retreat back out of the foothills. They didn't stop until they were out, which was late last night."

Masara was shocked to hear she had been unconscious for so long--but something in the back of her head disagreed, remembered a dream, perhaps. Later. She said instead, "These are Sascrin's foothills; outlanders think they are cursed. Even I only turned back to make very, very certain they would too."

Some things were too important to leave to should and probably; the king had understood that when Masara proposed remaining behind to guard their rear.

Arlis didn't ask her what the plan was now. She didn't ask what it had been, either.

Trust, or insight? Masara thought it was the former, and she tried to turn her worry into resolve. Her uncle had depended on her before; now Arlis did.

"Has anyone spoken to you?"

"Only a captain," Arlis reported. “He said their general could decide what to do with nobility."

"And have you seen a mage?"

"No. But I do think there's one around. The tent could've been prepared, but the incense smells... intent."

Masara tilted her head––carefully, to avoid tugging at any other injuries she wasn't fully aware of––and smiled lopsided at Arlis, trying to avoid the split. "Very good," she said, winced, and licked at the cut. "I thought you might notice that; that's the scent of the mage's spell. Now, what other kinds of magic inhibitors are they using?”

"Sir," Arlis protested, half-indignant, but she was looking at the canvas around them. She knew better than to try and fuss more over Masara's wounds; she'd already done what she could. It was nothing she would not recover from, she decided––given a chance to recover, of course.

"We're currently bound to chairs in a spelled tent, Arlis," Masara said. "We might as well have a brief lesson."

Masara heard rather than saw Arlis's roll of the eyes. She could never keep from that airy, "As you say, sir."

But Masara saw how she relaxed a little, easing back into her seat and straining less at her bonds.

"Let's begin with the standard suppression spells," Masara went on. "One of the nice thing about them is that they're always visible, as it's active magic, and look––these weavers didn't even try for subtlety. Tell me which ones you know already."

Arlis and Masara discussing the fire protection spell woven into the seams of the tent, where the different cuts of fabric had been sewn together, and how they served to isolate each separate piece of fabric, when they were interrupted.

"It looks newly done," Masara murmured. "And it looks northern too, not like a spell that's been fully assimilated." That was the thing about magic. There were always spells and brews you could learn, but they worked best when you had truly made it yours, or if it was yours.

Masara often wished the fireless explosions Arlis was so fond of hadn't been her obvious calling.

"How can you––" Arlis began, but then the tent flap opened and a man stuck his head in.

He came all the way in when he saw Masara was awake, daylight flashing through the opening, and stood before them.

"Good," he observed after an assessing gaze. "Surgeon said if you were out the whole two days, we might have problems."

He wasn't a very tall man, but he was broad-shouldered and confident, a soldier in a blue cloak. He had the olive skin and dark hair of some of the Kassan, though with clearer, lighter eyes that spoke of some northern heritage. Or magic and vanity.

The soldier crossed his arms and frowned when Masara said nothing. It took Masara a moment to realize he had been expecting her to speak––he had asked no question. She instead had been looking to Arlis, to see if her squire recognized the soldier, but a twitch of Arlis's fingers said, he's new, and Masara wondered again where they were. The tent also kept them from hearing just what kind of camp lay outside. Masara would bet it was far larger than the one company that braved the foothills and her attack, if the general was said to be coming.

"Are you injured?" the soldier demanded, eyes narrowing.

Masara smiled––carefully, lopsided.

"I believe so," she answered.

The soldier's frown didn't change. "Well enough to speak the general now, I see."

"Lead on!" Arlis challenged boldly, unwilling to be overlooked and left behind. Masara didn't bother to check her.

"Oh no," the soldier corrected with a grim smile. "Do you think we're letting you out of this nice tent? The general's on his way here. You should be honored. Him coming to you." The soldier sounded disgruntled enough by the necessary breach of etiquette that not even Arlis commented.

They didn't have to wait long. The soldier left the tent after another moment of silence––did he think either Masara or Aris would say something, unprompted?––and then the flap opened again, and he returned. This time, he was followed by a younger man, another soldier, alert and brisk. He'd become very tan under the Amirran sun, his hair burnished to a golden blond currently bare of a crown, but Masara was surprised to recognize the general.

Arlis shifted by her side, suspicious. The general regarded the both of them in silence, his pale brown eyes almost dark in the tent's dim light.

"Leave it open, Kinlo," the general––if that was how he chose to style himself––said, and Kinlo, the first soldier, went to pull back the opening. Clear morning light spilled inside, silhouetting the general, and from his slight smirk, he knew its effect. "They won't run."

Masara quite honestly didn't feel up to a break for freedom, so he was right, which was mildly irritating. The smoke of the incense kept her weak, as though she hadn't slept or rested in days.

"We're in the middle of my camp. Surrounded by thousands of men," the general explained reasonably. One couldn't hope to escape or be rescued against such odds. Amir's people really would be penned into the foothills, with Yina as her only stronghold. "Of course," the general said, "we will treat a high lady of the land and..." he trailed off, and frowned at Arlis. What stories had his men had told of Masara and Arlis's capture?

Arlis's fingers twitched. Treat us with honor, I bet, she signed. Masara affected not to notice, and did not smile.

"Well?" the general prompted.

Masara lifted her gaze and fixed on the shadows by the door. "I didn't realize you wanted an answer," she excused herself. "The young Lady Arlis is my squire, if that is what you were looking for."

The general nodded, as if all was now confirmed for him, and he stepped to the side, away from the tent opening. It was strange to think of such a man––young, open-faced, eager for action and the field itself––ordering the High Priest's death. This general had plenty of battlefields to choose from, without provoking a new series of them. But he had advisers, and they were apparently in the capital, directing the empire while the general was here.

"And it was the two of you who blocked the advance company?"

Masara inclined her head as far as she could.

"You wouldn't have gotten far anyway." Arlis raised her voice in a taunt. "The foothills can be quite haunted, you know."'

The general snorted. "I don't doubt it. I don't think 'foothills' is fair name for them, either. It's like calling the Henori river a little creek. I'm ready to forget the whole campaign." He sounded matter-of-fact.

"By all means, do," Masara suggested.

"But there's Lapur to worry about. And your mages."

"Our mages," Masara repeated, turning it into a question with an arched brow. The movement pulled at a scrape on her cheek by her hairline.

The general looked at her, slow and considering.

"Yes. Mine are worried. My advisers tell me it's unnatural that you don't use spells. Materials, incantations - the common instruments." He paused, then added: "Is it?"

Masara spoke before Arlis could. "Your imperial majesty," she said blandly, deciding now was as good a moment as any to dispense with all pretense, "why should any Amirran spill our secrets to you?"

Arlis frowned, backing down. She hadn't known who the general was, and Masara could tell she was swiftly reconsidering their situation.

"I have found some who were very talkative, actually," the emperor-general retorted. Arlis hissed at the implication of torture––but Masara frowned at the general’s honest, untroubled irritation, and heard her quiet oft-ignored fear confirmed.

There was a traitor.

How else could Amirasa have fallen? And their escape to the foothills had been too close, too harried. Masara signed another hold to Arlis, one that called for caution, and said nothing.

"Unfortunately, they do not know much about your magics."

"You have captured Amirasa," Masara replied mildly, though the admission was ash on her tongue. She didn't dare ask for the general's chatty Amirran, not yet. "If your mages cannot see the spells of our city, that does not mean anything."

"They see those spells," the emperor-general clarified. "The battle magic, on the other hand..."

He trailed off expectantly, but neither Arlis nor Masara rose to fill the silence. When it stretched on, the emperor straightened, chin lifting as though he suddenly felt the weight of his crown, and said, "Even if you don't talk, you will be useful bargaining tools. Perhaps now your king will be tempted to meet me at a crossroads. What do you think, High Lady Masara?"

Masara offered the lopsided smile she could, but without warmth. "If negotiation is what you wish, I will write to my king myself."

"You doubt me?" the general demanded.

"Your army holds our ancient capital. You have done nothing but kill our people and claim our land."

"I sent an ambassador, and your king gave him back and declared war."

"Ambassador?" Arlis snapped. "Is that a new word for assassin?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The High Priest," Masara answered succinctly. It came out flat, an accusation torn free of the sudden hollow chasm that threatened her. It appeared suddenly, as usual, and nearly all-encompassing. She breathed through it slowly, counting in her head to ten.

"He was the head of a militant religious order," the general replied carefully, sensing the delicacy of the topic. "The greatest obstacle to diplomacy. He would never accept surrender."

Arlis scowled, but Masara called for her silence again––she was never very obedient for long, but she held her tongue for the moment.

"And did your sources also believe Amir would be amenable to surrender after an assassination?" Masara asked, with pointed equanimity.

The emperor-general frowned, and crossed his arms, and then changed the subject.

"I think the most important thing to remember is Lapur. They cannot be allowed to grow past the Blighted lands."

"How gratifying, that our kingdom can be a foothold in your imperial wars."

It wasn't exactly a fair assessment; Lapur worried Amir, too, with its constant, probing incursions north of the desert, into the no man's land usually left to Amir.

But it was Kas, young and full of its own power who had invaded, not Lapur.

The emperor-general's eyes narrowed, glinting nearly like gold as he coolly declared, "Say what you will, High Lady. But we cannot afford an Amirran succession crisis, not with Lapur so close and so restless."

Masara gestured minutely, freeing Arlis while she considered the general's words.

"That was your reasoning for your conquest of Seriona," Arlis burst out, after holding her tongue for what surely felt like ages to her. "We are not Seriona. In Amir, we know our king and our prince!"

The general frowned at Arlis, but replied to her as seriously as he had to Masara. "And if your king should prefer his niece over his son?" he challenged.

Arlis strained briefly, forgetting she was tied up as she tried to point at Masara. "We are here," she settled for instead, spitting the words out furiously. "A lone knight sacrificed to hold off your whole company, the high lady, the king's supposed favorite––doesn't that tell you anything?"

A new uneasiness settled in Masara's chest as she realized how badly she had underestimated her young squire. Arlis understood Masara's decision... and she was still a fool for endangering herself. In the past half year of border skirmishes, the outbreak of war, and their flight from Amirasa, Arlis had grown up a great deal.

Masara felt she herself had aged decades.

The general's expression didn't change, yet Masara still felt a shift in his attitude.

"It tells me more than you know," he said, and then waved his hand, dismissing the matter. "My ladies, I've been distracted from my purpose. I simply wished to inform you that you will be hostages until a suitable agreement can be come to with your king, which I hope will come swiftly. Until then, you will be kept with the camp quite safely, and we will do our best to see you treated with honor. If you need anything within reason, you need only shout to the guards." He glanced at Arlis, and added, "I don't think you'll have an issue with that."

Arlis regarded the general balefully. He ignored the young squire's glares, and asked Masara directly, "Should I send the surgeon to you again, my lady?"

Arlis fumed under her breath about it being his fault anyway; Masara's mind spun.

"That would be appreciated, your imperial majesty," she said quietly, focused more on the realizations that were slowly coming together for her, overcoming her unwillingness to see them.

"In the field, I prefer the title Imperial General. Hokiraj," said the emperor, magnanimous in his role as captor, familiarity offered as a flattering courtesy.

"Well then, Imperial General. It appears we are in your hands," Masara returned in kind, though distracted.

The imperial general coughed, made a vague noise of agreement, and then made his departure with, "I will send that surgeon along. Later, we will discuss that letter and what terms your king may agree to.”

As soon as he was gone, Kinlo followed him out and shut the tent. The haste of his exit went on unremarked, and it was Arlis who finally broke the silence.

“I think there’s a traitor, sir,” she whispered, reluctant to speak her fear too loudly.

Her squire was so old at fourteen, yet Masara wanted to protect her still. "I think I know who it is,” she prevaricated.

The king had broached the idea of changing the succession only once that Masara knew of, and only idly. Masara knew he would never act without his son’s complete agreement; it was how rule had been decided between himself and his older sister, Masara’s mother. He had thought he might have Panam’s approval.

Only Panam and Masara were not siblings, and it had been a while since they had been close as such.

Oh, cousin, she thought, unease dripping through her memories of Panam like oil. Could you really?

But Masara could not let despair overcome her. She had Arlis to protect... and Amir, too. However she could.

#i love aus #maybe too much #masara #hikaj #gingerly writing #prompt response #self indulgent 2021 #the war au

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tired0artist · 3 years

Text

not enough (part five) the end

>part one< >part two<

>part three< >part four<

paring: female!V x Johnny Silverhand

warnings: domestic shit, fluff, a tiny bit of angst, misunderstanding, Johnny loves his girl, and she loves him, jealousy

————<•>————

Warmth surrounded V’s body as she slept peacefully. Her body completely surrounded by another one, arms around her waist tight yet gentle as if they were holding the most precious thing in the world.

The blissful moment was stopped by loud cries just outside of the bedroom door.

V sighed and snuggled her head in the pillow, mumbling.

“Johnny... your cat wants to come in...”

Johnny groaned and hid his face in V’s hair, while saying in a deep morning voice.

“Yesterday he was yours, when he scratched me and snuggled with you...”

“But you made me take him in”

“You searched the whole city for food to give him”

V kicked him under the covers “Just get up and let him in before he scratches the door”

“You go” Johnny said stubbornly.

“Johnny” she whined.

The man sighed “Okay but what do I get in return?”

“The love of your life, being veryyyy happy” V said, with a smile.

Johnny pinched her side, making her jump a bit “Low blow princess”

“Okay fine. I will wear that skirt you got me...”

“Hmmm... something extra to it?”

V opened her tired eyed and looked at the smirking bastard “I will let you fuck me in it. Will that cut it, for you?”

Johnny grinned and kissed her sweetly, before getting up to let the cat in.

The merc rolled her eyes and snuggled deeper in the sheets, hoping to get another hour of sleep. Nibbles jumped into the bed and squeezed his way under the cover to snuggle into V’s chest.

She opened her eyes and smiled at the little thing.

“Hey, there baby” she cooed as the cat purred as he fell back asleep.

Johnny snorted as he got back in the bed and wrapped his arms around her once again.

“Now it’s ‘hey there baby’ and few moments ago he suddenly was my cat”

V smiled and turned a bit to kiss him on his cheek “Did I mention that I love your grumpy ass?”

“Yeah, you did. Especially in my leather pants” Johnny said with a smirk.

V shook her head and put her head back on the pillow, enjoying the warmth that Johnny provided along with Nibbles.

Two hours later V woke up in the bed alone. Both her man and her cat gone.

She stretched and made her way sleepily to the kitchen, already smiling at Johnny’s voice.

“Off of the counter buddy or she’ll nag both of us”

V silently came around the corner where she saw Johnny making coffee. His long hair pulled in a messy bun, wearing his black pyjama pants and red t-shirt.

Slowly she made her way to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, tucking her head under his arm to look up at him, saying.

“Busted”

He laughed and pointed at the cat “He doesn’t listen, not my fault”

V looked at the cat who simply meowed at her and walked closer to paw at her. She turned a bit to look at his food bowl.

“Johnny?”

“Hmm?”

“Why does our cat have a bowl full of cereal?”

Johnny looked at the food bowl in question simply shrugging “We’re out of cat food. Figured that he wouldn’t mind”

V looked up at the love of her life and bursted out laughing.

“What?” he asked in confusion “Food is food, V”

She kissed his cheek with a shake of her head “Oh you’re lucky that I love you, you gonk”

With that she pulled away and picked up their cat, putting him on the ground. Then she made her way to their fridge to make breakfast.

“After you drink your coffee you need to go out and buy him food. Our cat can’t survive on cereal, especially since we’re going out tonight”

Johnny grumbled under his breath as he drinked his black coffee while making a cup of latte for V.

“What was that Robert?” she asked, trying to act strictly.

He glared at her and said “Oh nothing, Violette”

“Dick”

“Cunt”

Meow.

They looked down at their cat who was staring at his owners.

Both lovers started laughing as Johnny said.

“Well said buddy”

V smiled at them, her chest full of warmth.

It was evening as V stood in front of the bar, cursing under her breath as she tried to pull her red leather skirt a bit down.

Whistling caught her attention and as she raised her head up she saw smirking Judy and Panam walking towards her.

“Not. A. Word—“

“Damn you look like a rockstar” Judy said with a mischievous smirk.

“Or rather a rockstar’s chick” Panam corrected with a grin.

V glared at them, her cheeks dusted with a bit of a blush. She was wearing a short red leather skirt, black and red SAMURAI t-shirt from that 2020 tour, fishnets and combat boots. Her black hair was left unchanged and a bit messy and her usually purple painted lips were now dark red.

“Fuck off”

The girls laughed and looked at each other asking.

“Johnny?”

V nodded still blushing “Johnny...”

They laughed again as V crossed her arms with a pout. It was no secret that she preferred wearing pants some turtle neck and a jacket. But Johnny, always insisted on her wearing something more ‘sexy’ from time to time.

Even when he was inside her head, he would nag her about only wearing one thing.

“Okay, if the comedian squad would like to join me. It would be fucking great”

Soon V and the girls were sitting in a large booth, drinking their drinks.

“—and Saul even agreed with me! It’s still so weird leading the family with him...”

V smiled saying “Well I’m not surprised he agreed it was a pretty good plan, Panam. Also I get the feeling, Rogue started nagging me to take over as a fixer and the owner of Afterli—“

“Holy shit, V! You never told us that!” Judy said in shock as she shared a look with Panam.

“I didn’t?” V asked out loud with a frown.

“Em no? The fuck V! That’s big!” Panam said, but as she saw V looking away she frowned asking “Aren’t you happy?”

V shuffled in her seat “I don’t know... I mean. I want to say yes and all, but Johnny and I... we still haven’t decided on what we want to do”

“You should follow your gut, V. It served you well so far” said Judy while taking a drink of her fruit and tequila drink.

“I agree. I mean that’s what I do with Saul all this time. And look I’m doing fucking great” added Panam while waving to a waitress to bring her another beer.

V smiled and nodded “Yeah. Yeah maybe you’re right”

The girls smiled at her just as V felt someone’s hand touch her hip. She turned, her hand already moving to punch whoever touched her, only for it to be stopped by a familiar metal arm.

Johnny grinned and brought her fist closer to his lips to kiss it, saying “I love the way you greet me sweetheart”

V rolled her eyes and looked behind her boyfriend where Kerry, Danny and Nancy stood. She smiled at the group saying.

“Hi!”

Johnny was quickly pushed away by the group as they all hugged and greeted the young merc, along with her friends.

“So you sure you don’t want to play with us?” Nancy asked with a grin.

“No, no, no I’m not good with the guitar or singing—“

“Bullshit. V has some talent, heard her humming few times and sing while drunk. She’s good” Judy said with a smile as V blushed.

“Huh I think that I only heard you humm once, when I was in the coma... but it’s a bit fussy” Johnny said with a frown.

Kerry grinned “Someone’s hidding their talent, honey?”

V’s face was ok fire as she crossed her arms “No. I’m good at breaking arms so if you wanna continue?”

The group quickly scattered with only Johnny left as he laughed and kissed her, slowly but deeply. As he pulled away he whispered “You’ll have to sing to me someday, sweetheart”

With that he walked away while calling over his shoulder “Love your ass in this skirt by the way!”

V rolled her eyes and turned back to her friends, ordering a drink as the girls laughed at her flustered expression.

During the night, the SAMURAI was playing in the bar. V smiled as she saw Johnny enjoying being back on the stage once again, along with his friends. He and Kerry worked everything out during the time that Johnny was back. Now SAMURAI was playing at least once a month in some bars, V was always there. Sometimes alone and sometimes with her friends.

Johnny always asked for her to find a place to sit where he could see her. He said that he felt better knowing that she was right there in the line of his sight. So tonight he definitely saw two guys come over to their booth.

“Hey there, beautiful” one of them said, leaning closer to V.

“Fuck off” she said rolling her eyes.

“Oh come on, pretty girl” the other one said.

Panam looked ready to stand up, but V signaled her to stay seated as she herself stood up to the two far taller men. One of them noticed her t-shirt and said.

“Oh you like SAMURAI? Well it’s your lucky day, beautiful. Cause we know the whole band” said the first one, with a grin.

The music was loud enough that both men didn’t hear both Judy and Panam snort, trying to stifle their laughter.

V raised her brow, deep inside kinda pitying the guys for how unluckily they chose the lie.

“Yeah! We’re even going to the after party with them! Back at Eurodyne’s apartment!” said the other guy.

She smiled wickedly and said in a dumbest tone she could manage “Oh really! Oh I looooove Kerry! He’s the best!”

The girls were almost shaking with laughter as V played her part.

“So eh.. you coming?” the guy asked as his friend smiled.

“Yeah sure, let’s go outside” V said with a smirk.

To no surprise. Once the guys grabbed V’s arms in a not so friendly manner and led her outside, into an alleyway.

“Now shut up. You’re going to with us”

V snorted “Yeah that’s a good one”

With that V pushed them away, kicking the closest guy in his knee, causing to snap back. Then she turned and punched the other and bigger guy, but he managed to duck. V picked up a pipe from the ground and hit the guy on the ground who was probably looking for his gun. As she did that, the other guy grabbed her around the waist.

“Fucking bitch! You’re coming with me!”

“Fuck off!” she screamed, hitting him on the nose with the back of her head.

The guy let go of her and she turned to pick up her pipe, when a gun shoot was heard.

V flinched as a body behind her fell on the ground with a loud thud. She looked up to see Johnny standing in the alleyway, his gun in his hand.

“Johnny—“ she started just as he shot the guy on the ground, who was unconscious right between the eyes.

Then he was walking towards her, his expression unreadable. When she was in the arm’s reach, he pulled her closer and hugged tightly.

She rubbed his back as he was trembling slightly. He would say that it was from the cold, but V knew what triggered him.

“Hey... hey I’m okay. No one’s taking me”

After a moment Johnny pulled away and touched her cheek saying “Don’t you ever do something like this again”

V bit her lip and nodded “Okay, okay I’m sorry. I just knew that they wouldn’t leave us alone and didn’t want to make a fuss in the bar”

“I don’t care about that. Just watching them grab you like that and take out of the bar—“

“Shh... I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t think, okay? I’m right here” V said, feeling bad that she cause Johnny to in a way, relive his trauma.

They stood there for a while just holding each other, before V pulled him back inside the bar. On their way there Johnny kicked one of the corpses.

“Fucking dogs”

V only rubbed his back and kissed his cheek. Once inside she and Johnny joined their friends at the booth.

No one seemed too worried, probably knowing that V could handle herself. Especially since Johnny went out to look for her.

Kerry smiled at them warmly and asked about what happened. V told him about the guys and he simply shook his head with a snort.

“So I’m guessing they weren’t your chooms?” V asked with a smirk, trying to lighten up the mood.

Kerry laughed and shook his head “Nah, maybe there’s some other Eurodyne in the town”

V laughed and looked up at Johnny who was still stiffly holding her hand, squeezing it every once in a while. As if he was making sure that she was right there with him. She pinched his side, bringing his eyes to hers as she said.

“Relax, I’m fine. We’re fine”

He nodded and kissed her hair, whispering “I love you”

“And I you” V whispered with a smile.

The rest of the night the band and V’s friends spent drinking at the bar. The odd bunch of people were all surprisingly getting along.

Nancy was really interested in Panam and her clan, already asking the nomad if she could maybe do an article on them. Danny and Judy seemed to only talk about the braindances and new technologies on the market. While Kerry, Johnny and V were talking about everything and nothing at the same time.

But the topic mostly surrounded Johnny and how he was when Kerry first met him.

“—and there was Johnny. Jumping out of the window of some new chick and running to my car, screaming for me to drive”

V snorted and Johnny shrugged his shoulders, his hand still holding his girlfriend’s hand.

“She never told me that she had a husband”

Kerry snorted “And you didn’t ask. You’re lucky the guy didn’t shoot your balls off”

V laughed and looked up at the man beside her.

“You really were impossible”

Johnny looked down at her and smirked “Sweetheart you had me inside your brain. It shouldn’t be a revelation for you”

“True” V said with a grin.

“Okay chooms, it’s time to start the party” said Johnny as he waved the waitress over, ordering a shit ton of alcohol.

It was around four in the morning, as the women all went to have a smoke in front of the bar, leaving Johnny and Kerry all alone.

“You’re not drunk” said Kerry, as he took a sip of his drink.

Johnny shrugged “I’m tipsy and someone needs to take us to our apartment. Seeing how V was barely walking, means that it’ll be me”

Kerry smiled at his friend saying “You changed, Johnny. And not because someone made you. You changed on your own. Never thought that I would live long enough to see it”

Johnny looked down at his own drink, saying “I honestly felt tempted to drink some more tonight. I didn’t want to remember how I got home and wake up with my head about to explode...”

“But?” Kerry asked, already knowing what his friend will say.

“But then I remembered V. And the thought of going home with her, drunk off of my ass in this fucked up city. Stopped being appealing” Johnny said, as his fists clenched “You know that when Alt was taken... I was both drunk and high. I couldn’t protect her and she paid the price for my stupidity. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself, if V suffered because I choose ‘fun’ over her”

Kerry put down his drink and reached across the table to put his hand on Johnny’s shoulder “Johnny. What happened to Alt, will never happen to V okay? She’s the best mercenary in this city, has every fixer here backing her up and Johnny fucking Silverhand is by her side at all times. So she’s safer than most people are”

Johnny smiled and nodded, but the weight didn’t exactly leave his shoulders. Before he could thank Kerry, Judy came up to them.

“V’s calling you”

Immediately Johnny was on his feet, grabbing her and his jackets and leaving the bar. There he saw Panam, Danny and Nancy crouching next to sobbing V.

He kneeled in front to her asking “V? Hey, what’s going on sweetheart?”

V’s head snapped up right away as she jumped and wrapped her arms around his neck, saying.

“Johnny!! I thought that you left...”

Her words confused him as he said “V, I was inside with Kerry. You went out to smoke remember?”

She shook her head mumbling “I only smoke so that you would come out and talk to me...”

Johnny was a silent for a few seconds, before smiling at her “You could just ask, I would come along”

V mumbled something drunkenly and gripped his jacket harder, not letting go as tears were still streaming down her flushed cheeks.

Johnny sighed and looked up at Nancy who seemed to be the most sober “Call us a cab, will ya? I’ll take her home, she needs to sleep it off”

“Yeah I thought so.. I already called. It should be here any minute”

“Thanks”

The women nodded and headed back inside the bar with a short goodbye.

Johnny picked up V as she started calming down a bit, exhaustion taking a toll on her.

The ride home was mostly peaceful as V fell asleep on his chest in the cab. He then carried her up to their new apartment and put her in their bed.

After dressing her into her favourite pyjamas, wiping off her makeup and checking all the windows and doors, Johnny laid down with her.

The move of the mattress woke her up a bit, as she mumbled “Johnny?”

He hugged her closely and kissed her head, whispering “I’m right here, go back to sleep”

She snuggled into him and once again fell asleep, with his following soon after.

Next morning was tough for V as she groaned and pulled her pillow over her head.

“Rough morning, sweetheart?” Johnny asked with a smirk from where he was leaning against the door frame.

V raised the pillow a big and glared at him “Don’t you know it, bastard”

He laughed and went to sit by her side, rubbing her back slightly “If you’re gonna puke. I would rather you do it in the bathroom and not in our bed”

She flipped him off saying “You can bite my ass!”

And to no one’s surprise.

He did just that.

V jumped and threw her pillow at him “The fuck Johnny?!”

Johnny laughed and watched as she was rubbing her ass cheek.

“I did what you suggested, sweetheart”

She glared “Dick”

“Cunt” he said still smirking.

They stared at each other for a while, before Johnny finally stood up saying “I’ll go make you some breakfast, you have painkillers on the nightstand”

“Thanks” she mumbled already moving to get some.

By late noon V was feeling a bit better and finally got out of the bed. She was cleaning the kitchen a bit, when Johnny came in the kitchen handing her, her jacket.

“Get ready, we’re going out”

V took the jacket asking “Where?”

“You’ll see. I want to talk to you about something. So move your ass, so we can delta out of here” he said while going to sit in the living area.

Feeling confused as hell, V made her way to their bedroom and got dressed. She was just pulling her hair into a messy bun, as she walked out.

“Ready?” Johnny asked, getting up from their red leather couch.

“Yeah but—“

“No questions. Now let’s go” he said, taking her hand and walking out of the apartment.

Around 20 minutes later they pulled up at the familiar hotel. V got out and looked at Johnny in confusion.

“Pistis Sophia” she stated.

Johnny nodded and reached out to take her hand, leading them to the familiar balcony near the also familiar room.

Once there, he let go of her hand and leaned against the railing. Looking at the sun reflecting in the water.

“You know... I think that’s the place where I realised that I love you” he said, still admiring the view.

V smiled and also leaned on the railing, their arms touching “Mine was at your supposed grave, when you asked for a second chance... you smiled at me a bit awkwardly as if half thinking that I would tell you to piss off”

Johnny smiled, reaching over to take V’s hand in his metal one.

“So I fell first huh? That’s new”

V laughed saying “Maybe. Maybe not. I’m not exactly sure when I started loving you, I just know when I realised that I had these feelings”

They stayed silent for a little while, just looking at the sea as they hands stayed joined.

“Rogue offered to pass down the Afterlife to me. Along with being a fixer” V suddenly said, not wanting to hold it inside any longer.

Johnny looked at her with a small smile “I know”

V furrowed her brows asking “You know?”

“Yeah. She actually asked for my opinion on this”

“And what did you say?”

“That there’s no one else who could do it as good as you. Also told her to get out of her ass and ask you herself” Johnny said with a grin.

V laughed a bit, before asking “Do you really think that I should do it?”

“The question is, sweetheart. Do you want to do it?”

She looked down saying “I don’t know... we still didn’t exactly figure out what we want to do next and—“

“V” said Johnny as he touched her chin, making her look in the eyes “I want you to do what you want to do. Don’t look at me, just follow your heart”

V smiled and took his hand “I love you, Johnny. And I want to take Rogue’s offer, but I want you to be happy as well”

“I lived my life V. I did what I wanted, acted how I wanted and worked where I wanted. Now it’s time for you to do the same”

“But what do you want?” she asked, feeling unsure of the whole thing.

Johnny smiled and kissed her hair “I just want you. Our small apartment. Our ugly cat and to just wake up with you in my arms”

V smiled asking “So what? The great Johnny Silverhand going to retirement?”

He shrugged “Why not. I could do some merc work every now and then, if we’ll be tight on the money. Help you out at Afterlife and still play once a month with Kerry and the girls. But yeah, retirement sounds nice”

“Are you sure though? I don’t want you holding back because of me, Johnny”

“I’m sure, sweetheart. I just want to be with you” Johnny said, kissing V gently and slowly as the sun shined on them.

When they pulled away Johnny grinned at her saying “And to prove that, I want to ask you something”

V watched as he pulled away and pulled out something from his pocket. Then he opened his palm to show her two silver rings. She gasped and looked into his dark eyes.

“I know that, I didn’t propose to you first but who really gives a shit about sentimental crap like that. So, Violette Bakker. Would you like to marry me, right here in this dirty hotel?” he asked with a smirk, but his eyes were shining with warmth and love.

V teared up a bit, but still grinned saying “Well, Robert John Linden. I would love to marry you, even on the junkyard where they dumbed me”

He smiled at her and leaned down to kiss her passionately, few tears escaping from V’s eyes.

When they pulled away, V took the bigger ring and tried to slit it on Johnny’s left hand. But the metal fingers weren’t exactly made for wearing rings.

“Oh... didn’t really think about that” Johnny said, frowning slightly.

V pulled the ring away and instead reached for Johnny’s dog tags. She pulled them off of his neck.

“What are you—?” Johnny started, but cut himself off as he watched V getting his ring on the chain, where it joined the tags.

She smiled at him and put them back on his neck, before doing the same thing to her own dog tags and ring.

“Now we can wear them the same way” she said with a sweet smile.

Johnny touched the ring that was hanging around his neck and smiled too, saying.

“I love you”

V also touched her own ring, saying “I love you too”

The pair stood there looking at each other, in the place that really started what they had now. Some might say that it was just an old dirty hotel. A place that didn’t hold any meaning.

But to Johnny and V?

That place meant everything to the start of their story and to the very end of it.

•the end•

•thank you for reading and following me! I have an rock fan V au on my mind so tell me if you would like to see me write about it.

Tag list (if you wanna be tagged leave a comment): @dartheldur @signwriting @missweatherwax @commanding-officer @lovinghunty @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @sillysallysings @iamshisan @mayhemhouse

#cp2077 #cyberpunk 2077 #johnny silverhand #johnny silverhand x v #night city #female v #v

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