The cyberpunk community and its hatred for River Ward is why I can’t stand fandom. Cyberpunk community has a notorious history of being complete shitheads. Why am I still here sometimes I don’t know. But if River has no defenders then I am dead cause I’m going to defend that man till my very last breath. Cause one person on twitter said that River SEXUALLY ASSULTS V ON THE TOWER. To another person making a tumblr post calling River hetslop and trashing his character. Btw that person told us River defenders to jump off a bridge and die. You know what tickles me about this fandom is how y’all hate River Ward more than the actual real villains in the game 😭😭😭😭. Y’all hate him but love Takemura or Kurt Hansen, Reed. Y’all gloat about killing him or him going to jail. Like y’all are some deranged psychos in this fandom over a character that is simple easy and one of the most realest people in Night City. Y’all scream Acab about River but I bet y’all helped Barry and went to the columbium to visit his damn turtle. Like y’all are some deranged psychos. Can y’all like not…. seriously it’s fine to hate a character or not like them but making false and stupid think posts is where I draw the line.
Listen one thing that irks me about an alarming amount of cyberpunk fans is the dismissal of Jackie and V's friendship?? We didn't have a chance/reason to get attached, who cares about his death DO Y'ALL LACK TIME/CONTEXT AWARENESS?
I can't speak for the other paths yet, but Corpo!V is so close with Jackie. He picks V up when they have nothing left to give. They live, hang and work together after V getting terminated by Arasaka, but even without that, you can contextually tell they are close even before that.
I often see comments about how his death doesn't affect V in real time. Sure, the game doesn't give us a damn grieving period, but in reality neither Night City, nor a death sentence in the form of the relic would. Still, there's so many chances in the game to speak about Jackie, to commemorate him and his achievements, to connect with others over his devastating to V loss. You can always drink in his honor in several missions/quests. You can talk about him every time someone brings up loss. You can mention him to your love interests and other characters throughout your journey. And the warmth and somberness of V's voice every time they do never fails to make me tear up.
If you chose to play your V as a lonewolf edgelord that's fine, but the canon narrative certainly suggests otherwise. V often has the opportunity to choose good, and friendship and love, and to live by their own code that may not fit lawful parameters but it's from the heart.
Jackie being important to V is a choice. Talking about him, checking in on his mother (the fact the devs give us the option to call her?? Chef's kiss) after his passing, including him in all your big celebrations and pity parties is a choice. As is friendship, and chosen family, big components of this game.
Not to get sentimental but What is grief if not love persevering?
like, frivolous lawsuits might seem open and shut; “oh well the second this is looked at in court it’ll be laughed out”. but that isn’t even the point, the point is to cause as much immediate harm as possible by putting the defendants into debt with legal fees and destroy their lives that way. it is maybe the most evil thing a person with money & privilege like zwei can do to people without, and that cruelty is what she wants.
don’t use her or her boyfriend’s mods, don’t model for them, don’t give them the attention they desperately want. starve them of oxygen. maybe the next time she fakes her suicide w his help they’ll actually leave the community for good
Haiii I was wondering if you could write a Johnny x V fic where V loves playing the acoustic guitar and likes to play soft sweet songs and Johnny really wants V to play him a song and he relaxes it to it teehee 🙏🙏
But of COURSE Nonny! This idea is already making me kick my feet and squeal at a pitch only dogs could hear. Thank you for sending in your request! This is gonna be a fun one!(´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)
No Ordinary Love🎸
Pairing: Johnny Silverhand x Reader
Warnings: (SFW) extreme fluff and cuddly sweetness, kisses and love, jamming with Johnny, serenading the rockerboy
Summary: Johnny hears you strumming away, humming to yourself. Having been taken by curiosity, he inadvertently walks in on an unfinished birthday gift you have been composing.
Read on ao3 - 3k words
Writing Masterlist - My kofi✨
Disclaimer: The song I chose reader to perform for Johnny is Unbeliever by Rose Ave.(the joint music group featuring P!NK and Dallas Green of City and Colour)
With a few drags of your fingertips along the strings, you can detect that this guitar is frightfully out of tune. You continue strumming, giving each peg a twist until you land on the right key. When you have repeated the process with all six strings, you take a deep breath, hoping to not overwhelm yourself with the process. You’re used to writing songs. It’s your favorite pastime. Though, since the first of November, you sparked the idea to write Johnny a little something for his birthday. The sixteenth is right around the corner, and you can’t seem to get through the whole thing without your nerves getting the better of you, sabotaging all your efforts.
Pulling a trusty capo out of your jacket pocket, you wedge it on the fourth fret while placing your hand directly beside it. Using the opposite hand, you lightly glide the little pick caught between your index finger and thumb from top to bottom through each of the four resonant chords. Once you determine that everything is in tune, you begin.
The progression is relatively consistent throughout with some sparks of flare in the fingerings between transitions. It is a soft tone. Folkish. The more you play, that bloom of embarrassment forms in the pit of your gut again. You question if he will like this at all, as it is nothing like what he writes himself.
Just when you feel confident enough to begin humming the melody, a cursed knock appears at the transparent glass door. You scramble to discard any evidence that would reveal what you were just doing. You sit as stationary as you can after trying and failing to conceal the guitar inside a closeable hatch built into the armory occupying your loft apartment in The Glen.
The door slides open, and Johnny enters, wondering what you’re up to. “There you are. I was looking all over.”
“Yeah, I was just uhm…” Your voice trails off, unable to fill the blanks with a believable lie when his eyes land on the hatch left ajar. Instead, you exhale a deep breath, saddened that you’ve been caught red handed. “I chose to practice here because you weren’t supposed to hear anything yet.”
“Hear what?” He nonchalantly swings open the hatch, retrieving the instrument from the cubby you had it stowed away in. “You holding my acoustic hostage? You know, this thing can never keep its tune.”
“I can tell.” You roll your eyes, annoyedly reminded of the layers of accumulated dust you had to swipe off before you could even use it.
“There’s a reason I keep this one put away.” Johnny gives you justification for the neglect of this instrument, almost apologetic for its unintended mistreatment. “Let me get you one of my better pieces.”
“I figured you wouldn’t mind if I used it.” You humbly make known. “Besides, I kind of need it to be acoustic. I haven’t had the time to replace the strings on mine yet.”
“Of course I wouldn’t mind.” Johnny scoffs, inspecting the guitar to admire the stained and polished rosewood with his cybernetic appendage before holding it out for you to take. “Maybe it’ll behave better in your hands.”
“It doesn’t change the fact that you still ruined the surprise.” You grumble in displeasure. “A birthday surprise I might add.”
“Huh. It’s been a while since I even gave a damn about that.” He lets the thought roll around in his head for a moment, trying to remember the last time he celebrated his birthday, coming up short. “Well, let’s hear it.”
“What!?” You exclaim at the notion, shaking your head back and forth in automatic disagreement. “No, I-I can’t! It’s not even ready!”
“Then we’ll do it together.” Climbing into the bench, he nestles in behind you, draping the length of the guitar over your lap so that the waist rests comfortably on your knee. “Tell me how it goes.”
“Now that I am thinking about it, this is stupid.” You attempt talking your way out of it, scooting apart from Johnny and trying to pass him the guitar. “It isn’t even going to sound like the music you write.”
“What if I don’t want it to sound like my music?” He suggests assertively, pulling the guitar back down by the neck to rest on your lap again, locking you into his snare. The firm touch of his metal arm finds your hip, digging his digits into your flesh to keep you in place. Your mind starts spinning as so many obstacles come rushing to confront you before you could even prepare to face them. “This is about you. Not me.”
“Just… Please don’t laugh.” You meekly request of him before retrieving the pick from where you had it pinned between the strings.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Johnny admits, giving you an honorable nod to further convince you of his genuine claims.
You begin strumming like you were before, testing the sequence that will soon carry your melody, all while trying to ignore that incinerating flame of self-consciousness. Instead of trying to execute the song in its entirety, you opt to walk him through each verse, giving yourself a chance to fortify your own dignity with each preparation. Though, just as you complete the first instrumental section, you cut it off short, unable to follow through.
“Why did you stop?” He asks, massaging his stubbled cheek against yours. He thinks he’s being sweet, but you are finding it incredibly difficult to concentrate with his watchful eye taking in your every move.
“Well, there are lyrics but-”
“So, sing them.” He’s so certain in his requests, thinking that the words will come as easily as breathing, but if only he knew of the unfathomable degree of apprehension he causes you. You are experiencing fiery bouts of anxiety, taken by stage fright when the only one in your audience is him. “I love your voice.”
Swallowing the remnants of your pride, you bite the bullet and ease the tune out, slow and steady with anticipatory explanations to get yourself started. “Okay… so. The first part goes like: I’ve been wandering through this dead city, with the devil’s voice inside my head.”
You can feel Johnny’s smile curve upwards as the pressure of his cheek increases when you progress to the next section.
“And the streets, they’re all, they’re after fortune. And the sky is painted blind dark gray.”
You change fingering positions, adding more power to the sequence of your strumming as the tune dips before switching back to your speaking voice. “And then the next part goes uhh: But I keep hanging on. I keep hanging on. And on.”
You stop playing again, and Johnny looks at you tenderly, patient but still encouraging you to keep going. “Don’t quit now. It was just getting good.”
“The thing is this is a sort of duet.” You disclose it to him. “I was planning on recording myself harmonizing so that way I could sing the melody over it. I’m supposed to whistle and then it repeats, but I never got the chance.”
“I’ll whistle. What’s it sound like?” He is so involved; there’s no way you’re going to get off the hook now.
You demonstrate, starting high then easing out to a more mediated tone that mirrors the melody.
“Like this?” Johnny reciprocates at a lower octave, matching pitch perfectly.
“Just like that.” You confirm, feeling the unfettered joy in accomplishing this as a unit. It sounds better than it would have if you were still isolating yourself. You revert your strumming back to the gentle form before, repeating the flow of the song when it started. “Now I’m a thousand miles away from nowhere, and the night is turning, it’s turning bleak. Fear comes upon me now, and I feel just like some ill-fated beast.”
As you sing these lyrics, you can sense Johnny lose himself in the heavenly range of your voice, swaying back and forth with you in his arms. He lightly begins to hum the missing harmony, filling the space with even more serenading worship. There is something about the words that speak to him, like you’re addressing him specifically as you sing. He is amazed at how you’ve managed to capture the disparity of the setting in Night City while carving out your own oasis of hope at the center of it all. The poignancy of your poetry warms his heart as he begins to treasure this gift you’ve created for him more than anything he’s been offered in his entire life.
This effectively quells the nerves forming within you, giving you the strength needed to finish it. You increase the authority of your strums just before the next verse, maintaining that exertion all the way through. In turn, you also raise your voice to sing louder.
“But I keep hanging on. I keep hanging on. And on.” As you finish this line, you turn to look at him, giving him the cue to whistle just after you. He does. Both times, still swaying back and forth to the beat.
Now, this is where the finale comes in. You have memorized the outro down to a science, looking directly at Johnny as you belt these lines directly into his heart. “Now I don’t have much to offer. I thought that was plain to see. Explain, I’m just an unbeliever, and I believe you can count on me.”
Johnny recognizes the repetition of the following lines, singing the words in unison just as you did before. He exceeds the expectations you had when giving him the directions simply for the whistle. He proves to you that not only was he listening, but he was also learning. Learning the sound of your love and committing it to memory, making the venture to add his own improvised backing vocals. “If you keep (I’ll keep) hanging on. Just keep (I’ll keep) hanging on. And on.”
You whistle back and forth to each other a total of eight times, ending the song as if you’ve always known how to play this tune, a professional musician at heart. Johnny almost didn’t want it to end, adding one extra whistle when you finally stopped strumming. The silence hangs in the air for a few beats as the tune reverberates through the space before fading away.
Johnny presses his lips to your neck, dragging his mouth along your jugular in appreciation of your song. He continues to kiss you, trailing up your jawline until your lips meet. The scruff of his chin rubs against yours as his mustache molds to your upper lip. He parts your maw with his, slipping in a playful swipe of his tongue behind your teeth before pulling away to look at you. “You’re gonna perform it for me again on my birthday, right?”
“That was my original plan, yes.” You humorously quip at him before lunging forward to place a smooch on his lips again. “Before you foiled it.”
“Spoken like a true mastermind.” He teases you for your terminology, making you sound akin to a plotting villain trying to execute world domination. “So, that means you’re not opposed to playing it for me again, are you? Seeing as you need the practice n’ all.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You shimmy out of his hold, standing on both feet and placing the guitar strap on your shoulders. You lean towards him, hovering above his face as each word you say subtly collides with his lips. His hands linger on your hips, giving you a possessive squeeze.
“No.” Johnny admits sarcastically, his mouth grazing yours as he voices a response. “I’d love it.”
“Here goes.” You step back, straightening your posture in order to regain some of your stage presence. “No intermissions this time.”
“No intermissions.” Johnny repeats you, grinning like a giddy fool all the while.
“I’ve been wandering through
“This dead city
“With the devil’s voice inside my head
“And the streets they’re all, they’re after fortune
“And the sky is painted blind dark grey
“But I keep hanging on
“I keep hanging on
“And on
“Now I’m a thousand miles away from nowhere
“And the night is turning, it’s turning bleak
“Fear comes upon me now
“And I feel just like some ill-fated beast
“But I keep hanging on
“I keep hanging on
“And on
“Now I don’t have
“Much to offer
“I thought that was plain to see
“Explain I’m just an unbeliever
“And I believe you can count on me
“If you keep (I’ll keep) hanging on
“Just keep (I’ll keep) hanging on
“And on.”
On this second and uninterrupted run of the song, Johnny can pinpoint the meaning behind the lyrics, envisioning the path you’ve traversed to get you to this point and able to truly feel that they were written for him. He never expected that such an unbreakable bond would be forged so contemporarily. Despite being completely synthetic, his heart holds a beat just for you. This song is likewise a proclamation of love. With every breath, you declare the very promises you’ve made to him. This attachment proves to be more than enough to carry you for the rest of your days, no matter what the future may hold.
Johnny closes his eyes after a few verses, removing his sunglasses and hooking them on the collar of his muscle shirt where they rattle against his steel dog tags. He crosses his arms and leans into the bench, fully relaxing now. Your voice acts like his own personal siren hymns, giving him a revolutionary depth of gratitude for you as well as a window to look into your euphonious tastes.
His chest rises and falls as he breathes, letting you know the levels of tranquility he is achieving. You conclude the song, setting the guitar down to climb next to him on the bench with your head beneath his chin. He unfolds his arms, wrapping you in a delicate embrace while easing you into his lap. After a while, your breathing has become synchronized, but it doesn’t last long as he begins to hum the song in its entirety, over and over again.
“That’s like a lullaby.” Johnny caresses your face, stroking his thumb along your temple when he stops humming. “My own lullaby.”
“Happy birthday.” You shrug, thankful that you actually managed to perform for him without a violent and humiliating crash and burn. “Do you like your gift?”
“You tell me.” Johnny’s rhetorical answer strikes you when he taps a few buttons on the console built into the bench. It is a playback of your song through the PA system from start to finish. He must have initiated the recording sequence when you had your back turned to pull the guitar’s support strap over your shoulders.
With a blazing glimmer of your pupils, you activate the Hud embedded into your Kiroshi optics, discovering that a new file is occupying the saved music section amongst your internal storage. Now, you both can listen to it whenever you want. He sets it to repeat, holding you a little tighter.
“I love you.” The words fall from your lips so easily, floating directly into his mouth like a golden stream of honey.
“I love you more.” He accepts your decree as law, abiding by it as if it were a holy commandment from the divine.
Invited Kerry to my place in the Glen for a date and the game glitched and kept forcing me to cuddle him and Judy and when I got away, I turned and saw this— everyone wants to bone tonight ig-
I have a ps5 I cant get mods so this is just a ruckus.
