When I Ask For The Lighter This Is What I Mean

CANTO: INFERNO [a cyberpunk 2077 fanfic]

Main ships: V/Johnny Silverhand

The landfill exhaled. A slow, toxic breath of methane and melting polymers rose from the waste as rain drummed against shattered dataterms and decaying food packaging. He breathed in through her lungs, stretched out through her limbs, felt the wind cooling blood on the side of his head from where the bullet lodged in her temporal plating. The pulse in his borrowed fingertips was thready; the only thing familiar was the crust of guitar string callous across them. The ground swam in and out of focus, the neural bridge between V's reality and his flickering like a dying holofeed. The bullet wound wept a sluggish rhythm onto the collar of her vest – left, right, left – like a faulty metronome. Johnny counted each drop through the haze of the Relic's intrusion. Fourteen beats per minute. Too slow. Her fingers twitched in the muck. Move, you stubborn little shit.

-> ch.03 // : a hound would stand between two does

Valerie Cunningham, grand-niece from Alt's Father's side finds her paths crossed with a rockerboy's engram as a city that threatens to swallow them all is standing on the precipice of hell.

rating: explicit // trigger warnings: dead dove/all // main ships: johnny silverhand/V // keywords: toxic relationship, codependency, survival horror, cyberpunk dystopia, cosmic horror

mikoshi's guided meditation

Baroque (1998)

Television on

The fact that Dante created the most popular image of the afterlife with absolutely no theological basis for it will still be the funniest thing to me