merge-conflict

[merge-conflict]

WIP Wheneversday

Tagged in the recent-ish past by @aceghosts @shimmer-like-agirl @merge-conflict @luvwich (twice lol) @streetkid-named-desire @nananarc.

Tagging with the usual no pressure caveat: tagbacks on all the above who tagged me :3, @sweetmage @theviridianbunny @newnamesamecharlotte @lemonlilactea @slayerdurge @blackrevell @sailorskunk @olath124 @ghostoffuturespast and anyone else who wants to share what they're working on! Art, writing, VP, modding... whatever! Do it and tag me!

Tiny Mike Modding

Tonight I am deep in the guts of this man, Scorpion Tiny Mike, trying to help out some fiends friends by giving him a torso. Just one small thing to fix.

Love Wolvenkit's new experimental feature helping troubleshoot.

Wait, what

Writing

I said I wasn't going to do another WIP Whenever until the Presidential PWP was published, but it's like. 99% of the way there. I need like three sentences max before it's Done done, so whatever, here we are. 🤷

I've had a hankering to get back to the corpo AU, and I started a lil prequel with Val and her old friend Akira. I can't share anything yet because it only exists in meatspace, so I'll settle for something I probably haven't shared from the thousands upon thousands of words written for the longfic.

Putting it after the break bc this is getting long...

For those who aren't familiar, the corpo AU takes place some time after The Sun ending. Val gets a lead on a huge corpo gig, but she'll need a partner to go undercover and guess who her best candidate is?! It's Mitch, it's always Mitch.

This WIP has been a very big challenge for multiple reasons:

I have never written the fake relationship trope

it's a slow burn and I am not known for my patience

I am not posting it until it's complete, and has been revised

#3 is the really big pain, because I want that dopamine, but also because after it's done, I want to possibly rip it up and redo it.

It’s early when Val lets herself into the Afterlife. Claire won’t be in for a few hours so she should have the place to herself. She needs to write up protocols for Crispin on handling gigs and mercs while she’s away. While she will still be reachable in an emergency, there is no reason to risk that call being intercepted and blowing their cover. The faint sound of thumping bass and scratchy synths grows louder as she approaches the back of the bar, and light seeps into the hallway from Nix’s office. The netrunner dances at his desk, tapping away at keys while his shoulders, hips, and legs keep time to the beats.  Val leans against the door frame and crosses her arms. “You here early or late?” Without turning, Nix answers, “I’m late and you are way too early, Boss Lady. Looking for my report?” “Among other things.” “I’ll email the full findings, but short of it is the identities are clean solid. Took the liberty of digging up some photos of your man Mitch. Cleaned him up and ran him through the deaging filter, slapped a suit on him. Not too shabby for an old Nomad.” At that Nix turns to look at her, and she steps into the office, joining him at the desk and peering over his shoulder. Young Mitch stares back—full head of mussed black hair, twinkling blue eyes, unlined and unscarred face. Handsome. “Huh. Nice work. Need anything from me?” “Nope, already took care of yours. Easy enough to find pics of Night City’s most famous living merc.” He grins at her and she rolls her eyes.  “Just so long as they don’t connect my face to the name.” “Speaking of names, the identities are blank. You have names you want to use?” She rests her hand on her fist as she thinks. “What are the chances we can just use Mitch’s name? That eliminates the issue of him forgetting and not responding.” Nix turns back to the terminal and clacks away at the keys as he pulls up Mitch’s files. “Aside from the obvious issue of two Mitch Andersons with the same face, it shouldn’t be a problem. The name is common enough.” “So how do we get around that? In case someone decides they want to know more about him.” Standing, Nix hums and mirrors her posture. “If they’re just doing a search on the local Data Pool, there shouldn’t be any problem. Anything deeper,” he trails off. “Got an idea. Let me do a little more digging and I’ll let you know what I find.��

[merge-conflict]

"This fic is literally just porn, why do you care about the quality of the editing" unfortunately, both my brain and my dick have strong opinions about verb tenses.

[merge-conflict]

fucked up hurt/comfort. the person who stabbed you tends to your wound. the person who killed your loved one helps you grieve.

[merge-conflict]

🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏴‍☠️ Happy pride! 🏴‍☠️ 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

V's here to remind you that it's always morally correct to throw bricks at cops

[merge-conflict]

writing fluff is so hard for me lol my characters can never be happy. Just fucking suffer. writing a simple and cute waking up together scene and having one of them start suddenly talking about a dream that the other ran him through with a sword he forged with his own hands. Had me sitting there looking at the page in shock. they’re just waking up together in bed where the fuck is this coming from??

[merge-conflict]

20 Questions: Writing Edition

tagged by @ghostoffuturespast and tagging @lemonlilactea and @clockworkvenus (no pressure!) and anyone else who happens to be reading and wants to play :3

How many works do you have on ao3?

20! Which feels sort of insane. It feels like I've both written much less and a lot more.

What's your total ao3 word count?

155,384 which feels absurdly low. 285,984 is the word count in one (1) of my Scrivener projects so there's a lot which is not making it to the end of the pipeline.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

no promises

the damn things overlap

An Exchange

everything where it belongs

come back wrong

What fandom do you write for?

Mostly Cyberpunk although in the previous question you can see that I've gotten more attention in various other video game fandoms I've written for (fe3h/pathologic 2/Prey (2017)). I've also written plenty of fics that have never seen the light of day for Outer Worlds and Dragon Age 2 and a little bit of BG3.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! Unless the comment is weird. Sometimes it takes me a while because time isn't real, but I always appreciate someone taking the time to actually leave one of any length because I know how much effort it takes. As a long-time lurker I know it's tough to make that jump from reading something to interacting with the creator. It's always nice to feel like I'm not just chucking my passion project into the void and I hope folks aren't too disappointed if it takes me a while to work up the courage to reply. Sometimes I like to keep things in my inbox for a while so I can enjoy them. :3

What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hard to pick between you and me and the devil makes three but that one is so short it doesn't feel as much as a punch to me as a pair of open graves. Even though Valentine is being cared for by the people who love her most, it's extremely hard to think about the fact she's slowly losing her mind and doesn't want to admit it, and the fact that she was actively concealing the fact from Goro and to some extent herself. Something about her surviving everything and having a few good years and then declining quickly because of the damage from the Relic while Johnny himself is doing fine... T-T I'm fine, actually.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

everything where it belongs is 100% feel good smut and I guess has a few happy endings. not a lot of competition with all the cyberpunk fics though lol

Do you get hate on fics?

I've gotten a few odd comments which are sort of back-handed, but not too bad and I like to assume good intentions. By far the worst is when someone reblogs my writing on tumblr and misgenders a character. Makes me yearn to pack it in and move back into the woods.

Do you write smut?

Oh you betcha. If I want the dynamics that really get me going, especially with a nonbinary and/or trans character I gotta write it myself. Dutifully contributing my work to the sparse "Other" category on ao3 like a good soldier.

Do you write crossovers?

I haven't recently but I have in the past, mostly in my youth. It's hard to stitch two disparate worlds together, at least with the stuff that I like. I did semi-recently think about Viago Dragon Age in the cyberpunk universe. I think he'd love having access to spreadsheet software and industrial grade stimulants.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I mean probably scraped from ao3, but whatever. Once you put something on the internet you never know where it'll end up and I'm at peace with that. Nobody is getting any more recognition off my work than I am lol.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope! Think that'd be pretty neat though.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! I've written a fic with @slayerdurge with our V's, which was a blast. In the distant past (i.e. middle school) I've also written a fair number of fics with my friends which can be chaotic but also fun.

What's your all-time favorite ship?

I'm not really a person with all-time favorites, things come and go with different strengths. After having spent some time writing a lot of datv fic for my own gratification and having fun with a friend, I will say I'm really glad to get back to Valentine/Goro. dog4dog 4ever.

What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

All of them. I have so many! My one hope is that I can finish at least the damn things overlap even if I never get fully around to writing all the other stuff I'd like to write.

What are your writing strengths?

I like to think I can keep a story moving, and by far my favorite step of writing is editing. Taking a wild thorny draft and slicing and cutting and rearranging until it's tight and has good mouthfeel. I do also think I do a good job of keeping canonical characters in character, or at least once I've had some time with them, making their changes make sense according to what's happened to them and the context they're in.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Plotting, organizing, executive function. I struggle to write things linearly, I've never written an outline I didn't wildly deviate from once I actually got down to it, and I can't tell you the number of times I've done some skimming over early chapters to make sure I've kept things consistent only to find I'm trying to do something I already did and take it out. Writing with ADHD can be frustrating and sometimes I'm at peace with it and sometimes (lately) it makes me want to wail and gnash my teeth– why doesn't my brain just work? Why can't I fucking remember?? Why do I remember feeling the warm glow of an idea and not the idea itself? It's gone forever!

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

I generally avoid it, because I don't have the skill or resources to write dialogue in other languages naturally. If the POV character knows the language I will just write the gist of what is said in another language in English and note what language they're speaking (if relevant) and if the POV character doesn't know, then they just note someone is talking in another language along with what they do notice about tone & volume and similar. I feel like often the best I can do is try to make a bit of the underlying language come through in the English translation but if I can't do that then I can at least get out of the way and not bungle the original language.

Favorite fic you've ever written?

My darling thread-safe. I've said it before and I'll say it again, it's probably some of my best writing, it's a punch to the gut, and yet I still couldn't resist putting a bit of hope into it. It's got Valentine and Goro on opposite sides, and yet still stupidly in love and clinging to each other. It's got all of Valentine's fractured pieces, including Johnny. It's about everyone finally having to face the options in front of them and wishing they could go back and do things differently, but they just have to keep moving forward. It's about Johnny's loved ones helping him stay free, and Valentine's loved ones making her prison tolerable. Agh!

[merge-conflict]

Happy Father’s Day, here’s V’s papa!

Vannarith “V” Keo and 5 y/o Valerie

Some lore about him if you missed it!

[merge-conflict]

CYBERPUNK 2077 | ▶

° V, sᴏ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ.

[merge-conflict]

with knives!!

for the wip ask game — ty! this was a WONC songfic that i started and didn't finish; the premise is an au where vania kills big pete after she's started foolin around with mike 😭

When Dakota Smith calls, you pick up the phone, right? When the target's surname flickers onto the terminal, a pinhole pricks through her consciousness: a white-hot light that starts small and sears right through her. Recognition becomes guilt becomes fear, and for a moment her vision warps like a flame held to celluloid. Breathe, V. She does. The fear dissolves. Amidst its ashes, she spies the shape of a decision. Four seconds have elapsed since she read the name on the screen. In a different iteration of this moment, in another life, she lets the poor sod live. In that other life she retreats back into the brazen sun, flees through the broiling desert, and fails the gig. Takes her chances with Dakota. Stays broke. Here and now, she makes a different choice.

[merge-conflict]

shoutout to the horny freaks in fandom. this is a freaks please do interact zone

[merge-conflict]

corner pocket? :O

(from the wip ask game) ooooh this is a sketch of tiny mike having a weird little fuckboy rivalry with @merge-conflict's valentine!!

He relaxes against the bar, eyes swiveling in a frisky arc. Over yonder there’s this redhead. Tall, jugs 'til Saturday, toothy. Pretty eyes and a pistol. Smiled at him. Got her name, then forgot her name, but he'll get it right back in a second, he thinks. But, wait, there’s this other redhead. Even taller, and typically, Mike’s not opposed to two redheads — might even take it as an auspicious sign — but when the first redhead’s his primary target and the second one’s closing in on the first like a six-foot-somethin' homing missile, shouldering him out on his own damn turf, that's when his brow begins to furrow. He retrieves his drink, marches over, and claps a hand on the taller one's back, right in the middle of some dorky corpo joke that flies clear over Tiny Mike's head. ""Ey, listen," Mike says, "b—" The lanky stranger swings around to look at him, optics blazing. Mike kills the “babe” on his tongue in its cradle and swiftly resurrects it as "—buddy."

i'm actually not sure now if valentine is supposed to be a redhead bc on further reflection her hair might just be a lighter brown?? so now i feel a bit idiotic but i do wanna finish this one day. i think they'd become fast friends but also hate each other but also run a pretty sharp gig together

[merge-conflict]

hate when people think the only archetype possible for a male sidekick to a female protagonist is a soft boi and/or himbo. like the implication there is that the only reason a man would ever defer to a woman’s authority is if he was a bumbling idiot. love male supporting characters who are smart and strong and confident and can step up when necessary but still kind and humble enough to let someone else take the lead most of the time

[merge-conflict]

with knives!!

for the wip ask game — ty! this was a WONC songfic that i started and didn't finish; the premise is an au where vania kills big pete after she's started foolin around with mike 😭

When Dakota Smith calls, you pick up the phone, right? When the target's surname flickers onto the terminal, a pinhole pricks through her consciousness: a white-hot light that starts small and sears right through her. Recognition becomes guilt becomes fear, and for a moment her vision warps like a flame held to celluloid. Breathe, V. She does. The fear dissolves. Amidst its ashes, she spies the shape of a decision. Four seconds have elapsed since she read the name on the screen. In a different iteration of this moment, in another life, she lets the poor sod live. In that other life she retreats back into the brazen sun, flees through the broiling desert, and fails the gig. Takes her chances with Dakota. Stays broke. Here and now, she makes a different choice.

[merge-conflict]

Emancipated duels. Photo by Pavel Kurmilev

Baroness Lubinska who presided over the famous duel between Princess Pauline Metternich and the Countess Kielmannsegg in 1892, insisted that the duelists remove their clothing above their waists to avoid infection in the event that a sword pushed clothing into the wound it caused. Being a doctor, the baroness had seen many instances of septic infection in soldiers for this very reason throughout her years of medical training.

[merge-conflict]

i've had so many conversations with people in fandom/creators' circles who are genuinely afraid to make the stories or art they want because they fear (often with good reason!) that their friends might kick them out of their circles, or worse, launch a public harassment campaign against them.

as someone recovering from this fear-based mindset, i want to affirm:

- friends who use implicit or explicit threats to maintain social control are not your friends

- communities that monitor your social media and ao3 to surveil you for perceived transgressive content are not safe communities

- the vast majority of people are NOT going to hate you if you make the art you want

- if you find yourself in a friend group that makes you feel afraid to speak your mind, it's in your interest to disentangle yourself from that group as quickly as possible

- real, honest disagreements between friends can be solved respectfully without the use of public shaming

- if you're feeling afraid in a community, it's likely that others are feeling afraid too. support your friends who may be struggling to leave an abusive fan or creative community, and let them know you're a safe person to voice doubts and disagreement to.

- if you're feeling like you'll never find a safer community of people, i promise there are others who feel that way too. it may take some time, but you'll find people who treat you and your ideas with respect. a good place to start is the people who make the type of art that you admire but that you're too afraid to make yourself.

ok that's all, take care of each other and be nice 💜

[merge-conflict]

gotta know more about "gimme shelter" :3 or if someone has already asked that one then dealer's choice

heheh, gimme shelter (named after the rolling stones song) was from when sierra was still a corpo in the Big Fic In My Brain. originally the plot was that she worked for zetatech and recruited elise and austin on behalf of her boss to do some of the corp's dirty work, but somehow said dirty work was exposed and sierra's boss then threw them all under the bus and they end up on the run after zetatech agents try to kill them. this particular scene has elise and sierra holed up in the sunset motel, heavily inspired by the end of 'search and destroy' in the main game. i do actually still like this plot and will probably tweak it to work with sierra's new media lore instead (idk where austin is in this scene, this ain't about him anyway)

The silence in the motel room was deafening, bar the occasional scuttle of a cockroach. The only light source was the shimmer of the moon creeping through the blinds, a haze of cigarette smoke lingering in the moonlight. Bullet holes and blood stains decorated the walls, hinting at the secrets of its previous guests. The two single beds did little to invite one to lay their weary head, the unmade white sheets covered in questionable stains. The room stank of stale cigarettes and death. Elise’s bloodied hands trembled slightly as they held the shotgun in a white-knuckle grip. She was perched at the end of one of the beds, her breathing slow and calm, but only because she was forcing it to be. The pulsing vein in her temple accompanied by the trembling hands gave away her apprehension. Her eyes stared at the motel room’s door, the shotgun poised in the same direction. Her face was splattered with blood, mixing with the beads of sweat trickling down her face. Was the blood hers, or that of someone else’s? She wasn’t entirely sure. Sierra sat on the other bed, her knees raised with her elbows rested atop them, holding her head in her right hand. Instead of her usual immaculate and well-kept corporate appearance, she looked disheveled - her once exquisitely pressed suit now torn and bloodstained. Her stare was fixated on the floor, her eyes never even flickering to follow the cockroaches scurrying in the filth. She wasn’t acknowledging anything, really - her eyes merely providing an anchor point while she relived the last few hours over, and over, and over in her head.

[merge-conflict]

hello i am intrigued by the title of ‘a handgun, a fast car, a bottle of pills’ 👀

thank you for the ask! :3

a handgun, a fast car, a bottle of pills is my current WIP for my longfic the damn things overlap that I have finally returned to. I can't take credit for the title name which is straight from a richard siken poem, but it is a fun list of some of johnny's favorite things and the way he gets valentine out of trouble.

i love those times when i can advance the plot, reaffirm the kind of person another character is, and also what someone else thinks of them, simply by creating a list of items. it feels like cheating!

Johnny patted at his chest, instinctively seeking a cigarette, and was momentarily bewildered by the heavy, armored jacket he found instead of his flak vest. He doubted Takemura smoked, since it wasn’t the current corpo fashion, and he had a stick up his ass that not even nicotine could dislodge– but he did seem like the type to carry extra ammo, or a gun, and maybe even a physical phone that he hadn’t been stupid enough to hand off to some pissed-off ninja with obnoxious hair. V’s right wrist had stopped working and seemed to be broken– probably when aforementioned ninja had sent him crashing to the ground. Thankfully Johnny was left-handed and he crammed the gun up into her right armpit to hold it and rummaged quickly through the jacket pockets, working from the outside in. There were no less than four magazines– all of them the wrong fucking caliber for Yorinobu Arasaka’s ridiculous custom iron– along with a couple of shards, some mouth freshener, a small folding knife, and in the second to last breast pocket there was a cheap phone with the screen cracked into so many pieces the fine powder stuck to Johnny’s shaky fingers: casualty of the three misshapen slugs that had been meant for V’s Arasaka-branded heart, still tangled in the armored fibers of the outside of the jacket. Johnny wanted to scream several obscenities, but when he inhaled his breath got stuck in his lungs. What came out of V’s mouth instead was something perilously close to a sob, which was just the cherry on top of his shitty fucking sundae. He flung the broken phone into the wall, where it lodged itself in place like a tooth in a knuckle. He was tempted to throw the ammo too, but his wrist was hurting and his armpit was hurting and his leg was hurting and his head felt like a busted, hissing speaker, and he was dangerously close to sitting down, so he unzipped the last pocket and slipped his hand inside hoping for a miracle and that was when he felt the cool, rounded edge of a slim, metal case.