Dating Genji Shimada Headcanons

pettiness is a dish always best served hot; guardian x crow and cayde :)

after getting that ask about Cayde being a third-wheel in this situation, I just had to write something for the Wild Card mission :) I hope this is as funny as it is in my mind :D also on ao3

Cayde hates stake outs. 

Getting into the fray, guns blazing, is where his true approach lies. A knife here, a bullet there, everyone who should be dead is dead, and he gets to eat ramen right on the dinner clock. 

Yet here they are, former Hunter Vanguard, his little Guardian protege and their formerly of the Awoken royalty boyfriend. Slash killer. Slash no, not anymore. Slash, unsure. What a crew!

“Cayde, stop moving!” Crow chastises him, kicking him lightly in the shin. 

Cayde narrows his eyes but obliges by sitting down on the ground, watching Crow. Now that one was made for scouting. Patient to a Hunter appropriate degree, wicked with a sniper, if Cayde were to judge. Knows his stuff. And according to the few conversations they shared, not even mildly scared by bureaucracy. Good, Cayde thinks.

A multitude of feelings swarm inside him. Curiosity, jealousy, a little bit of anger for the spice. Resentment, pride, appreciation.

But above all those warm and fuzzy feelings, there is one more. One that Cayde has made sure to nurture over his long long life. One that feeds into his very psyche.

“Guardian?” Crow calls on the comms. “I have you in my sights. There is a swarm of Scorn approaching your location. Wait, what? Uh…”

Whatever the reply is, Cayde doesn’t get to hear as the channel switches to private but for a second. And so he gives in to that feeling instead.

A wave of playful and unyielding pettiness.

And so Cayde-6 forms a plan. 

***

They sit around a small fire, celebrating one of the many latest victories of their hunt. Crow reenacts a shoot-out with a horde of war beasts, accidentally sending one of the bottles flying at the wall, covering the rock side with rich red. The Guardian is laughing, while the two Ghosts watch with a mixture of disapproval and parental condescension. 

Crow thoughtfully rubs his nape and reaches for another wine bottle, offering it to the Guardian. But before the bottle can make contact, Cayde smiles and swipes it from Crow's hand. 

“Oh, that's my favourite!” he exclaims. “Not vintage enough, but that will do.”

He lets the cool liquid pour down his mechanical throat, watching from the corner of the eye as Crow can't find any more wine in their supplies. The Guardian is smiling at Crow's quiet frustration and reassures him that it's fine and they can transmat in some more if need be. Their hands brush against each other as Crow sits next to the Guardian, and Cayde wonders if they don’t see him notice.

“Good wine?” Crow asks with a mocking tone, to which Cayde wipes his mouth and sighs with great content.

“Good enough, kid.”

Crow huffs and turns his attention to stoking the fire.

A warm feeling spreads in Cayde's chest. He oh so loves being up to no good. 

***

In-between the many battles within the Pale Heart, they take a moment of respite to take care of their weapons and ammunition. The Guardian is trying to get screeb stuff out of their armour to no avail. Rookie mistake to run straight into the thick of the horde and serves them right.

Crow polishes the feather-etched barrel of his gun. Cayde watches, proud that the kid has already figured out the important business of having a signature gun. Cayde tucks away a thought about a signature cloak, one step a time, but that's a done deal. He's decided, it’s just that no one else needs to know for now. 

Cayde looks at his own weapon, the Ace of Spades glowing with Light through cracks. Shabby, but trusty. His thumb runs over the white spade. Even here in this strange version of the afterlife, a memory of something distant and unattainable is haunting him.

When he raises his eyes, he finds that Crow has joined the Guardian in a fruitless attempt to wipe off the Scorn ether, yet the more they both try, the more the stain seems to eat into the armour.

Lovebirds, Cayde thinks. Oh how the tables have turned.

***

The hunt for the ether-thieves goes on for a few more days. In that time Cayde thinks he and Crow have discussed every possible facet of things he would rather never talk about again. Good thing the kid is easily distracted with a healthy bit of competition, which they indulge in by shooting distant targets while the Guardian spots them both. 

At night they take turns to meditate and rest, another taking watch.

On one of the nights, Cayde wanders off from the camp. An excuse is easy, a strange noise nearby he wants to investigate, as if there isn't something strange happening every minute anyway. They are inside the Traveler, after all.

Cayde walks down a narrow trodden path and contemplates the ridiculous lip locking happening right around the corner. It doesn’t particularly bother him, but oh, amuse him it does. His favourite Guardian, all tangled up with this Crow. He wonders how it happened. Actually, he doesn’t, the more he thinks about it, the stranger it seems.

When Cayde makes it back to the camp, the kiss is still ongoing, with the two lovebirds none the wiser to his presence. Dangerous, could get shot like this, so they should be happy it’s just him.

Cayde pushes between the Guardian and Crow, plopping himself down on the ground. The Guardian is looking away flushed, while Crow crosses his arms.

“Found anything suspicious?” he asks, moving to make space.

“Nah, false alarm. There was this pair of love birds though…”

The Guardian chokes on a small hidden laugh.

***

“...that’s when Zavala punched him right. In. The. Face!”

As the Guardian laughs, Crow rubs his forehead with tired fingers. Cayde rummages through his memories to grapple onto a new story - and good thing that not all of them have to be true - when the Guardian stretches their arms. After a few pops, a glance at Crow and a ridiculously tired yawn, they begin to rise from the chair.

“Hold on, I’ve got one more!” Cayde exclaims. “Just one more, and off you go to see your sweet dreams. Promise!”

The Guardian sits right back, and Crow watches Cayde with eyes narrowed, only two brightly coloured irises glowing in the dark. He means to say something, and Cayde eggs him on with a prolonged pause, just to talk as Crow’s mouth opens.

“A-”

“Okay, there was this one time I sat in a bar, and in came a titan, a hunter and a warlock…”

One story turns into a couple more. A wine bottle is fished from the supplies, and the Guardian is doing all in their power to not let their eyes closed, when Cayde puts a final flourish on the story.

“And that’s why you don’t play cards with Ikora.”

“Good to know,” Crow says with an amused grin. “I think I’m going to catch some sleep. How… about you, Guardian?”

They rise from the chair and dust off their armour, even though it has now been made pristine.

As the Guardian heads to the tent, Crow turns to Cayde. Their eyes meet, some kind of momentary agreement or understanding. He doesn’t want to talk about it now, but he has learnt the importance of well-timed words. It may always be that you would not get a chance to say them.

“Come on,” Cayde ushers Crow with a flick of his hand. “Go get that sleep.”

Crow crosses his arms and arches his eyebrow.

“What, not another story? Or sleeping right in the middle of the tent like the last time?”

“Nope,” Cayde responds. “Let’s just say, I got my retaliation. Now go, shoo. The Guardian is going to fall asleep if you don’t get all cuddly and snuggly.”

Crow’s lips stretch into a wild grind.

“What in the Light’s name are those words?”

“No idea, hope I don’t get to repeat them ever again. Now go, kid. And… look after them, yeah? They are my favourite.”

Crow looks at the tent where the Guardian is fumbling with a light blanket.

“I will. They are my favourite, too.”

Ghost Shells, 2023

Che soddisfazione rendermi conto che certe cose nelle serie ufficiali corrispondono al mio headcanon. <3 <3 <3

TFP: Elita-One

So here is a long long bio for Elita-1 and my story for her in my AU !

Formerly Ariel, she was once a council worker on Cybertron, specializing in supervision of all sorts of workers from mid and lower castes. She could have done far greater, as she had been gifted by the Well of AllSparks with the ability to change her form not just twice but three times total, to walk on legs, wheels or fly.

Yet she still chose to work where she did. Grunt work, in comparison to the great Senators and other somewhat rulers of Cybertronian society but…Ariel loved her line of work. It kept her humble, in comparison to great many of her councilmen and women who did otherwise.

So, Ariel spent many many times seeing how they worked, as well as going to the record halls, studying what she could to ensure she did her work correctly. That was how she met, then Orion Pax.

The two were close, as he often fetched her the necessary data of her work, and would speak with her about all kinds of things. Be it speaking of the caste system, history, myth, legends and so much more. It was only natural thus that she fell for him, and he for her.

Of course, then all changed as Megatronus and Orion crossed paths, and tensions rose, when Orion was deemed worthy of a Prime by the council. Ariel, who had sided with Orion, made it clear to the council that this caste system was by no means a benefit to anyone, made her voice heard and…paid the price dearly for it. If she wanted to advocate for the lower caste, then she would live as lower caste.

Sentenced to the docks, she was. Made to toil in them day and night, as rebellions stirred further and further…till Megatron came to be, and Optimus Prime was reborn. When alliances came to be, factions decided and each parted from one another.

Ariel, found by the Autobots after an attack on the docks, was heavily damaged. Awakening to a medbay, she was delighted and saddened to be reunited with Orion,now Optimus. Had they lived another life, perhaps things would be different. So, that night, Ariel died. In name and frame, she was remade and rebuilt by the medics, and chose a new name for herself. If the council thought herself so elite, then she would take that name. Elita-1.

She rose the autobot ranks, using her knowledge from her former line of work to coordinate attacks, recruit and train soldiers of all kinds.

Then came the grand Exodus, and Elita-1 was forced apart from her Conjunx, having only committed themselves to each other a week before. He had given her the coordinates for Earth, to follow him, but she couldn't follow aboard his ship, as she and the last of her team would forge a distraction till they made it out.

And when that was secured, and she was the only one left standing, she boarded a ship of her own, broken as it was, but it was something still. The damage was substancial, especially as Cons found her, and alone, she could do nothing but chart her course…and jump into a cryo-stasis pod, and wish that Primus would keep her safe. That she would make it to this new planet in one piece…and that maybe, Optimus would be there when she made it.

by OchreJelly

Happier Endings

Image One | Image Two | Image Three

Pairing: River Ward x Fem!V!Reader; Slight SilverV Summary: (Request) You’ve been cured of your terminal disease. Johnny Silverhand no longer lives in your brain. It’s left you in a coma for two years, and when you wake up, everyone you’ve ever cared for has either moved on or no longer wants to see you, even your boyfriend, River Ward. Rating: Mature/Restricted — MDNI; AGELESS BLOGS DO NO INTERACT. Word Count: 7.4k+ Categories: Angst, Smut, hurt/comfort, slow burn-ish CWs: Reader is V and is referred to as V; rough sex, unprotected P in V; Reader hallucinates in the form of dreaming; Johnny doesn’t have a body; Spoilers for the secret ending/‘The Tower” ending. Not proofread. Notes: Canon-divergent; might've gotten some lore wrong. I just wanted River and V to have a happy ending.

MASTERLIST CYBERPUNK MASTERLIST

Everything hurts. Your head. Your body. Your ears as the incessant beeping of the heart rate monitor filled the room. All of it. Waking up from a two year coma was anything but pleasant.

Your operation had been a success. Johnny had finally been removed from your head, but as you came to that realization, a piece of you really missed him. Sure, the relic was killing you, and sure, you fucking hated the gonk when you’d first met him—he did try to kill you after all—but overtime, Johnny Silverhand was a man that you could eventually call your friend.

That realization and the news that you’d never be able to have chrome in your body ever again? That shit hurt the most. You had made a silent promise to Jackie before he had died—a promise that you’d make it to the big leagues, just for him… So much for that. You hadn’t ever expected to make it for only a few months. Maybe you should have just put a bullet through your skull after Misty had left you up on that roof. If you had, maybe you would have seen your best friend again.

As the team drops you off, you stare out at the sun and let out a big sigh. You’d wondered what Night City had gotten up to in that time, but really, the only thing on your mind was one man: River Ward.

You’d never fully explained what was going on with you and the relic—all you could tell him was that you were dying, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to be with you. Your mind flashes back to the morning after you’d crawled into his bed, spending the whole night with him inside of you. The sound of his voice humming a soft melody as he made you a cup of coffee fills your head.

“Best coffee, best jambalaya—“ you remember finding the recipe on his computer. It was sweet that he’d wanted to impress you. You didn’t think you’d ever fall for a fuckin’ cop, but you did, and you wore his “fuck the police” shirt almost every night to bed after that. He was sweet; he had a big heart, and his intentions with you were pure. It was hard to find a man like that in Night City.

It only takes a couple of rings on the holo for him to answer.

“No damn way,” he says. God, you missed his voice.

A small, hopeful smile spread across your face. You don’t remember the last time you’d felt hope to begin with. “River,” you breathe out. “It’s me.”

”’Me,’ who?” His voice is gruff, filled with clear uncertainty. Though, you don’t think that you could blame him.

Still, “Wow… Wasn’t expecting that,” you say.

“Yeah, well,” he says. “Old cops carry suspicion in their back pocket. The V I knew wouldn’t have waited two years to return a call.” Well, shit, that hurt too. “What’d you expect to hear after all this time?”

Why was he acting this way? In all honesty, it was starting to piss you off. You couldn’t help but let your classic sarcasm slip through. “Dunno… Maybe something like ‘Wow, glad you’re not dead!’”

You watch as he shakes his head, seeming a bit disappointed in himself. “You’re right,” he sighs out. “Sorry… Really am glad you’ve come up for air.” He pauses for a moment. “Gotta admit, I’m a little mad at you.” There it is.

It seemed like everyone was either mad at you or had thought you’d died. Hell, Panam wouldn’t even pick up the phone for you. It didn’t even ring. All you could do was leave a voicemail and hope, but knowing her? She’d already declared you a traitor—someone she’d never speak to ever again.

“River,” you sigh. “I was in a coma. They just woke me up.”

“Oh, shit, V,” he says, a clear look of surprise on his face. “Sorry… Here I am being a fuckin’ asshole to you.” You’d never seen him so on edge, quick to anger before. Well, that’s not true. You remember when you’d helped him find Randy—he was full of anger back then, hasty to find his nephew, but after that? He’d relaxed, a bit lighter. He was so gentle with you after that.

You could tell there was something eating away at him now. “You okay?” You finally ask, unable to keep yourself in the dark any longer. “Gettin’ the vibe that something’s wrong.”

“Honestly?” He says. “Everything is.”

He admits to you that he had been struggling to scrounge up the eddies for Randy and his rehab. It ended up with him making a deal with the Trauma Team. If he provided them with NCPD secrets, anything and everything he could, they would give him the funds. It seemed like he was ashamed of what he’d done.

“Clearly, you didn’t have any other options,” you tell him with a shrug. He doesn’t seem to like that.

“How could you possibly know that?” He grunts.

What was that supposed to mean? Was that some sort of dig? Sure, you’d been a merc, but that doesn’t mean you risked your morals for eddies. Hell, you’d pissed off Elizabeth Peralez for refusing to lie to her husband about all the brainwashing.

Whatever. You decide to let it go. “No,” you tell him. “I know you; woulda done it differently if you’d had a choice.”

He shakes his head. “I dunno,” he says. “I’d like to believe that, but…”

You curse under your breath, a twinge of guilt in your heart. Maybe the two of you could both work on having a little more empathy for each other. “Now I feel bad,” you say. “Can we meet? Help each other out?”

You knew that things couldn’t ever go back to the way they were—not right away at least. A lot could change in two years, and he’d spent all that time thinking that you’d ghosted him, tossed him to the side without any explanation. Even if he knew the truth now, it wouldn’t change how he felt. You should have told him more about the relic, the plan, everything. After everything you’d been through with him, everything he’d told you about him and his family—you owed him a little more honesty and candidness than you had given him. Still, maybe with a little work, the two of you could—

“Too late for that.”

Oh.

You can’t even hide the shock and sadness in your voice. “What? Rather not see me?”

You hate the look he gives you through the holo. “Look, I’m not the man you used to know. I couldn’t look at you in the eye. Not you, not— The fuck am I blabbin’ for?” There’s a lost look in his eye. There’s no way he meant anything he said. There’s no chance he didn’t want to see you after all this time. “I gotta go.”

”Wait a second, River—“

Before you can say anything else, he hangs up, leaving your heart in your stomach and a pain in your chest. This pain hurt more than any bullet wound or relic malfunction ever could have. You stare back at the sun and sigh, shaking your head, before dialing the next number.

Vik is the only person willing to see you. Panam still hadn’t answered your call, and Judy had left Night City. She was married now… You were happy for her, but it didn’t hurt any less. All your friends had thought you’d abandoned them, and in turn, it seemed like they either did the same to you or had simply just chosen to forget you and move on.

Vik had confirmed that you’d never be able to get implants again, and it left you feeling lost. Your entire life, living as a merc, some streetkid who would risk their life everyday to make it a legend in NC, was all you’d ever known. You’d be a gonk to think you could return to doing jobs like that without any cyberware. It’s what kept you less vulnerable to enemy hacks and bullets.

Hell, you couldn’t even defend yourself from getting mugged as you left the clinic. Any eddies you’d had were gone. You truly had nothing left for yourself. Misty helps you up off the ground, and though she assures you that she thinks you’ll be able to get yourself back on your feet, you’re not sure if you believe her. Either way, you wish her the best of luck on her journey to whatever ancient forest she was leaving to.

Yet another friend gone from your life.

You find your old car in the parking lot of your old apartment building. You’re surprised someone didn’t scrap it or steal it. As the engine roars, you let out a sigh and get in. There’s only one place that you think you can find solace in this world.

You arrive at Johnny’s grave. Tears well up in your eyes as you run your hands over the metal, feeling the divots in it from the words you carved into it. “Johnny Silverhand—the man who saved my life.”

You half expect to see a flash of blue light, the appearance of the ghost that had lived inside of your head. He’d tell you to pick yourself the fuck up, to find a way to turn shit around, but he didn’t. He couldn’t because he wasn’t there with you anymore.

So you begin to talk to yourself, truly to yourself. “What the fuck am I doing?” You sigh. “I miss you, Johnny. Bet you didn’t think I’d ever say that, huh… But I told you I wouldn’t ever forget you.” You continue to look down at the carving. “After losing Jack… Even though I was always fightin’ with ya, you were still my best friend. I wish I could’ve found a way to save us both.”

The tears start running down your face. When was the last time you’d actually cried like this? Sure, you had cried when Jackie died right in front of you, but this? This was full on sobbing. Tears falling down in large drops, soaking your face, nose running as you struggled to breathe.

“I’ve got no one anymore, Johnny… Should have just spent the last years of my life living it with you—doin’ jobs instead of focusin’ on the damn relic. Should have gone out with a blaze of glory.” You shake your head. “But no one remembers me. I’m just another face, no longer on my way to becoming a legend. Anyone who does remember me either hates my guts or is moving on without me…”

With shaking, flesh-made, free of chrome hands, you wipe away your tears. “Fuck!” You curse as you kick his grave. It’s not fair to take it out on Johnny; you know that. It’s not like he asked for his engram to be copied onto the biochip, and he’s not the one who told you to shove the damn thing into your head. As bad as you felt for Evelyn Parker, part of you was angry with her. Had it not been for her or Dexter Deshawn, maybe you and Jackie could have been legends of the Afterlife. What was the point of getting into the what-ifs, though?

”I’m sorry,” you breathe out, still struggling to catch your breath. “It’s not your fault.” You continue to talk like Johnny can hear you, and while you know there’s no such thing as heaven, and even if there is, Johnny Silverhand sure as fuck didn’t make it in, you try to pretend that he’s up there, listening.

“I know that you don’t like River, but… I miss him so much. He doesn’t even wanna see me,” you finally let out.

Johnny had always had a disdain for the ex-cop. He always claimed that River only stuck around to try to sniff you out, get dirt on you and turn you into whoever was willing to give him the money for it, but you knew otherwise. From the moment you’d met the man, you knew all he wanted to do was seek out justice in whichever way he deemed fit. Though you were a merc and he was a cop, he saw value in what you did. Sometimes, not every issue can be solved by the cops. Sometimes, the system was immoral itself. He knew that more than anyone.

“Don’t know what he did or why he feels like he can’t look me in the eye, but it still hurts… I’ve dated plenty of gonks in my life, and he’s the only one that I think actually cared about me,” you confess. “Maybe he’s punishing himself for what he did, but I couldn't care less about what secrets he was sellin’. It’s not like the NCPD and I were chooms, right?” You let out a watery chuckle. “Maybe I’ll try callin’ him again, but who knows.”

Silence. Dead, uncomforting silence. Johnny really was gone.

Your eyes glance back down at the grave, and you sigh, standing up and shaking your head. “Thanks for listening, Johnny,” you say. “And… Thanks for everything else. For saving my life, multiple times. For showing me how to live like a Samurai… For helping me find a way to survive the relic… Just wished I could have found a way to save you too. I know you said you felt like you did everyone in your life dirty, weren’t a very good friend to them, but… You were a great one to me. You’re the reason why I almost made it to the top to begin with.”

You get back into your car and start it up, turning on the radio. When you do, the car fills with the sound of 107.3 playing through your speakers. Samurai fills your ears. It’s at the moment that you think maybe, just maybe, Johnny did hear you. Maybe this was his way of telling you that you’d be okay, to just give it some time.

Vik lets you crash in the clinic. He’d told you that as long as you kept it on the downlow, you’d be okay until you got back on your feet and scrapped up enough eddies to get your own place.

You get a job at Tom’s Diner. It certainly isn’t as fast paced or dangerous or thrilling as being a merc, but it pays you a decent amount. It eventually gets you by just enough to rent out a shitty apartment in Watson. Just like old times, huh.

You don’t even take the time to unpack once you get in. Instead, you toss your single bag of clothes into the corner and hop into the shower. It’d been a long time since you’d felt water pressure this good. As the hot water cascades over your body, you think back to the second time you’d spent the night with River.

It had been in your apartment that time. You’d been pretty insistent on not wanting to spend the night having sex in silence due to the fear of waking up his sister, his niece, and his nephew. You remember the feeling of his hands on your body as you led him into your shower. The way they had covered the swell of your breasts as you leaned against the wall, bending over for him. He’d buried his face into your neck, moaning and grunting, telling you how good you’d felt around him. Your cunt squeezed and fluttered around him as his hips slammed into your ass, his large hands bruising your thighs from the way he was gripping on to you.

When you open your eyes, you remember that he’s not there. He didn’t want to be there. God, he couldn’t even look at you.

You’re out of the shower after that, not wanting to relive the memories and thinking about what could have been. You quickly dry yourself off, get dressed, and get into bed, making a mental note to buy new clothes to fill your wardrobe.

Over the span of a few months, you find yourself doing a lot better. You continue to work at the diner, making just enough money to keep paying your rent. Living a life of luxury isn’t something that you even consider anymore. Every once in a while, you stop by El Coyote Cojo every once in a while. You’d given Mama Welles the scare of her life when you’d walked in. You’d gotten her all caught up on what was going on, telling her that it didn’t feel right to call her. You could handle the anger of everyone else in your life, but never Mama Welles.

She’d smacked you upside the head. “¡Estúpida!” She cursed at you. “I thought you had died. Don’t you think losing my son enough! Misty told me she was leaving, and I thought that was it for me—thought I’d lost all of my…”

Her children. Though she’d never say it, she truly did think of you, and eventually Misty, as her own. Living in Haywood meant everyone around you was family, even if you didn’t like them, but Mama Welles loved you. When you didn’t contact her for two years, she really did think you were gone, and it hurt her more than she would ever let it show.

“I’m sorry, Mama Welles,” you say. “I just… Everyone I called—either mad at me or forgot about me and moved on. Didn’t know what I would do if you did the same,” you tell her. “I promise to be around more. I’m done workin’ as a merc. No more danger for me,” you sigh.

She pulls you into her arms, holding you tightly. “Well, if you ever feel like leaving that diner, my door is always open; you can always come work for me, mija,” she tells you. “And there’s always food on my table for you. You know that.”

You nod as you rest your chin on her shoulder. God, you missed this feeling—the feeling of family.

You eventually take her up on the offer, and you start working as a bartender. You slowly start to become filled with life again. You spend your nights laughing and joking around with Pepe; you make enough money to buy more than five outfits, and your apartment starts to feel more like a home as you fill it with paraphernalia that matches your style and personality.

Still, you couldn’t help but feel that something was missing. As you looked around the bar, wiping out glasses, you watched as a few couples sat closely together, smiles on their faces as they gushed to one another. Pepe picks up on the melancholic look on your face.

“Tired of being single, eh?” He teases, nudging you playfully.

You shake your head and sigh, your focus back on the glasses in your hands. “Just…” You struggle to come up with an excuse for your glum expression. “Yeah, I guess. I actually met someone before… Well, you know,” you confess to him. “But he doesn’t wanna see me anymore.”

He shrugs, picking up a glass to help you with your work. “Hey, you never know—“

”Trust me, I know,” you reassure him. “I tried but… Fuck, the look he was giving me when he told me… I don’t think he’ll ever talk to me again.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder. “Maybe he’s just scared,” he suggests. “Whatever it may be, I don’t think you should give up if you really want things to work out.”

When you go home, Pepe’s words weigh heavy on your mind. Were you really just giving up that easily? As you lay in bed, your eyes glance over to your wardrobe where your replica of Johnny’s jacket hangs. Sometimes, you dream of him, and you just… talk. You talk to him about what’s going on in your life, and he listens. Sometimes, he gives a quip here and there, but you don’t mind. You don’t mind until you wake up, that is. Those dreams feel way too real sometimes.

This was one of those dreams…

”Pepe’s right,” he says, taking a long drag of his cigarette. He’d always been on you for not smoking. Now, he got to smoke all the cigarettes he’d ever wanted. “You shouldn’t give up just because the fucker told you he can’t look you in the eye. Fuckin’ make him.”

“I thought you didn’t like River,” you say.

He scoffs, pushing himself off of the wall he was leaning against, walking closer to you. “I don’t, but you’re so fucking miserable without him. I hate to say it, but it’s killing me to see you like this. The V I knew was a fucking rock star who could fuck like nobody’s business.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “So this is about you wanting me to get laid?”

He groans, and though he’s wearing his classic aviators, you can tell he’s rolling his eyes at you. “No, it’s not about me wanting you to get laid,” he says. “It’s about me wanting to see you happy, V. I know I tried to kill you and all in the beginning, but you were still my friend in the end. You matter to me.” His cybernetic hand is now cradling one side of your face, and you lean into it. “Truthfully, the reason why I didn’t like River, aside from all the cop stuff, was because…” He sighs, shaking his head. “It’s hard to hear the woman you feel a connection with have… thoughts… about another man.” His thumb strokes your cheek. “But I want you to be happy, and damn it, whenever you were with River? That’s the happiest I’d ever seen you…”

You look up at him in shock. “Johnny, I—“

You wake up, alarm blaring in your ears. “Fuck me,” you groan as you hit the snooze button. “Weird fuckin’ dream.” You roll over, and you stare at the jacket again. “But maybe you’re right, Johnny.” You really missed him.

You go about your day as usual. Wake up. Shower, Get dressed. Head to the Coyote for your shift. Work. Drink a couple of beers. Get home.

This particular night, however, you’d had more than just a couple of beers. Instead, you had taken shot after shot as you kept thinking about your dream, thinking about your last conversation with River. It’d been a few months since then. How was he doing? Was he safe? Was Randy’s recovery going well?

All of these questions continued to weigh on your mind as you laid on your bed, looking up at the ceiling. Before you knew it, you were dialing River’s phone number. It rang out a few times before it eventually went to voicemail.

“Hey,” you began, voice shaking. “I’m sorry for callin’. I know you don’t wanna hear from me, but… Fuck, Riv, I miss you,” you continue. A knot began to form in your throat, making you choke on your words. “You know, I thought I’d spend my entire life being some good for nothin’ merc, but… when I met you, you made me wanna slow down.” You sniffle. “That night at Joss’s place—the one when you made that jambalaya for me—“ a chuckle makes its way past your lips. “It was so nice. Slow. Different from how I’d lived my entire life, and just being there with you, living in that moment with no worries about the relic, the jobs I was workin, or if I was gonna die… I craved more of it; it made me ready to slow down.” Though you didn’t realize, tears began to slip down your face. “But I only wanted to live that way if it was with you…”

There’s a long pause. You begin to softly sob to yourself. God, you felt pathetic. You had always swore you’d never cry like this over a man, but fuck it, River was different.

”I’m sorry,” you apologize, pulling yourself together. “I don’t know what’s going on with you or why you’re so afraid to look me in the eye, but I need you, River… Without you, being able to live out the rest of my life means nothing. I would have taken six months with you over however many fuckin’ years I’ve got left now without you,” you say. You sniffle and wipe away at your nose. “I got a new place, and a new job—one where I’m not constantly putting me or other people in danger, I promise… I’ll send you the address if you ever wanna stop by… If not, I get it. I’m sorry… See ya.”

You hear the click of your phone as you finally hang up, and once you do, you close your eyes and fall asleep.

“Hey!” A gruff voice calls out to you. When you open your eyes, you see Johnny. Great, another dream. “V!” He calls. “Wake the fuck up!”

You groggily sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “Christ, Johnny, the fuck do you want? Not in the mood to talk.”

“Good because I ain’t either,” he says.

The sound of knocking echoes in your mind. “Huh?”

Johnny smirks over at you and nods towards the door. “Wake up,” he tells you, a hand holding onto your shoulder. “Think it’s time I finally left you alone, huh. Time for you and me to finally move on from each other.”

”What’s that supposed to mean?”

He doesn’t answer you. Instead, the room begins to fade away around you as he starts walking away, heading into a black void. He ignores you as you call out his name.

Then, you wake up in a cold sweat. You groan as your head pounds with a hangover. You don’t remember the last time you’d drinken this much… Oh wait, yeah you do. The last time you’d gotten this drunk, you’d let Johnny take the wheel, and he’d broken your promise of taking it easy.

You look down at your arm, and you fingers run over the tattoo. “Johnny + V” it reads… You were glad that in the end, you were at least able to keep that much from your days as a merc. The thought of not being able to get implants anymore no longer bothers you. You just needed your memory of him and the work the two of you had done together. That was enough…

The sound of someone pounding on your door brings you out of your thoughts, and you jump. “Shit,” you groan. “I’m comin’.”

You look around your apartment for your clothes. You’d only slept in your bra and underwear; it seemed like you weren’t sober enough to completely undress yourself.

You find a pair of shorts and tug them on before stumbling over to the door and opening it. The sight of the man in front of you is enough to pull you out of your hangover. “River…”

He looks at you, eyes filled with guilt. “Hey, V,” he greets. “‘S’been a while…”

You nod, still a bit in shock, and step out of the way of the door. “Uh, come in.” As he walks in, you look around your apartment. It’s a mess. “Sorry… I wasn’t actually expecting you to show up.” You chuckle, a bit nervous. “Also wasn’t expecting you to even open that message. I’m sorry; I guess I just had too much to drink last night.” Oh god, you were rambling…

But for the first time in a long time, you see River smile. It’s not a wide, boisterous smile. It’s soft and small, but it was still a smile. He’s clearly been entertained by your antics.

”It’s okay,” he reassures you. “I, uh, didn’t expect myself to come see you either, but… Joss walked in on me listening to the message, and she… Well, you know how she is,” he tells you.

“Guess I should thank her later then, huh?” You chuckle out. He’s gone quiet again, having a hard time looking into your eyes, so you speak up. “River, you know that I don’t… I don’t blame you for doing what you did, right?” You tell him. “I mean, I don’t think I’m really one to be giving out any lectures about morals given what I’ve done… What I used to do.”

Now, he’s looking at you, but he’s still so reluctant to do so. “I know,” he finally speaks after a bit. “It’s just.. I’m not the same anymore, and I don’t want you to expect something that I can never give you.” He walks further into the apartment, taking a seat on the couch. His hands run over his face, as if he’s trying to wipe away the shame and embarrassment he was feeling. “Before you left, after we’d gotten together, I was happy. Relaxed. For the first time ever, I felt truly at peace,” he says. “But then you disappeared. Randy needed to go to therapy, and Joss and I couldn’t afford it, and—“ he sighs, “it really changed me for the worse.” He looks up at you again, eyes soft and vulnerable. “I don’t think I can ever go back to being the River I was… And I don’t want you to get hurt because of it.”

As he speaks, you stand in front of him. Your heart hurts. That look on his face—it’s the same one that he felt when he’d told you about his parents for the first time. He feels like that little boy again. “I’m sorry,” you whisper to him. You then walk over to the couch and sit next to him. “River, I didn’t mean to make you feel like you couldn’t… be yourself, the new version of you, without me, and I’m sorry that I couldn’t be around to help you out,” you sigh.

“It’s not your fault,” he tells you. “You… didn’t ghost me like I thought you did. You were only trying to save your life, and I’m glad you’re okay now.” Two years without you was hard. He remembered the first time he was struggling with money. He’d left you a voicemail, begging you for your help. Even if it were just a small loan, he’d take what he could get.

But then you never answered, and he’d left you another voicemail, angry and hurt. ”After everything I helped you with, everything that I told you—“ he cried into the phone. “Thought you’d have a little more respect for me. I don’t ever wanna see you again, so wherever the hell you are, don’t bother calling me back.”

You didn’t listen to those messages until after you’d called him, just after waking up. Hearing him speak that way, the betrayal he must have felt… You couldn’t imagine.

“I’m still sorry,” you say to him. “I wish I could have told you about it all, but I just couldn’t. I wanted to, but I didn’t want you to worry.”

”You told me you couldn’t make plans for the future; you told me you were dying,” he sighs.

It was true. The first night after you’d slept together, he’d asked you if you were serious about him, and you told him that while you were, your time together was likely limited.

“I should have listened…” He says. Then, he grabs hold of your hand. “I missed you so much,” he finally confesses. “Even if I was pissed at you… I’ve never had anything like I had with you.”

You looked up at him, leaning forward. “I missed you to River,” you say. “I… I don’t know if I can do this without you. It’s so fucking hard. Johnny’s gone; all my friends either hate me or they’re leaving, and I can’t even go back to being a merc. I was on my way to becoming a legend, and it’s all just gone.” Your bottom lip starts to tremble as you think over the past few months. You don’t think you’d ever experienced loneliness like this before. “But it didn’t even matter anymore after I met you. I wanted to live the rest of my life with you, you know… That’s why I did it. I didn’t know it would put me into a fuckin’ coma, though.”

“Would you go back and change things?” He asks after a bit.

You take a moment to think on it. Back then, you’d spent so much time thinking about all of the what-ifs of your situation. What if you trusted Hanako? What if you asked Rogue for help? Was Panam the right answer? Or maybe you should have just ended it when you were on that fucking roof top.

”I don’t know,” you finally answer. “Depends on if you’ll take me back or not… If not, then yeah, I would go back if I could—forget about finding a plan to save myself and just spend my final days with you.”

He hums in response. “You like me that much then, huh?” He teases.

You shake your head at him, looking up at him with full honesty. “No,” you say softly. “I love you, River. I regret never being able to say it before I left.”

He seems a bit surprised by the confession.

You see it on his face and pull back a bit. “You don’t have to say it back. I get that it’s been two years, but I still feel—“

You’re cut off by the feeling of his soft, warm, and full lips tenderly pressing against your own. It feels like the first time he’d kissed you up on that water tower. “I love you too, V,” he says softly, barely pulling back. His kisses grow hotter and heavier as he leans in even closer, laying you down on the couch. “Fuck, I missed you so much,” he confesses in a whisper.

You moan against his lips. “River.” You sound so whiny and desperate as your hands wrap around his large biceps. He certainly didn’t slow down in the gym while you were gone. That was for sure. “Bed, please.”

He nods and moves his hands down your body so that they can wrap your legs around his waist. Once you’re secure, he lifts you up with ease, the cold chrome in his hands somehow setting fire to your skin as he carries you over to your bed, setting you down gently.

He begins to kiss down your neck to your chest. His hands slide underneath the cups of your bra, over the swell of your breasts. His cold fingertips tease at your nipples, and he chuckles. “Really answered the door in just this, huh,” he says. “Didn’t even know it was me.”

You whimper, back arching into his touch. “Fuck, River, just take it off already.”

He smiles at you and follows suit. He tosses the piece of fabric to the floor and dips his head down to take one the nubs into his mouth. “Fuck,” he groans. “Missed this. Couldn’t get you out of my head for two fuckin’ years.” His sucking gets harsher, causing you to squeak in surprise. “No one could ever make me forget you. I tried so hard.” He was leaving bruises across your chest as he sucked on it. “But always kept thinking about you, how you felt in my arms, how you felt around my cock.”

God, you were a mess. You could feel your wetness seeping through the panties you were wearing. There was no doubt your shorts would have a wet patch in them soon. You’d grown so sensitive to his touch. “River, please. Just fuck me already,” you beg. “I need to feel you. ‘S’been so long. I missed you so much.” Tears well up in your eyes. You’re not sure if it’s from his touch or if it’s just your desperation to be with the man you love again, even if it was just one last time.

River doesn’t say anything. He only nods and pulls down your panties and shorts, and they join your bra that he’s tossed on the floor. His fingers run up and down your folds, collecting your arousal. He can’t help but to bring his digits up to his mouth and lick them clean, making him groan. “God, I missed the way you tasted.”

He shifts himself down the bed so that he can pull your legs up on his shoulders. Almost immediately, he puts his tongue to work on your core. He eats you out like a starved man, licking up and down your slit before moving his lips up to suck on your clit. He puts two fingers inside of you, curling them up and down to press right against all the right spots.

Your heavy lidded eyes gaze down at him, and you swear you see a halo around his head as he devours you. You try to thrust your hips out but he growls against you, causing you to moan even louder. He wraps his free arm around your legs and pushes your hips back down into the bed. “Stay still,” he grunts.

“Fuck, River,” you moan. “I’m gonna cum. Don’t stop!” Your moans are whiny, desperate, fucking joytoy like. “Please.”

His fingers work in and out of you fast and hard, and he continues to lick at and suck on your clit until he can feel you gushing as you climax. You can feel him chuckling against your pussy as your legs shake. God, it’d been so long since you had been touched like this. You couldn’t even bring yourself to get off with your own hands since you’d woken up from your coma.

When you come down from your orgasm, River pulls back, and the entirety of the lower half of his face is soaked. It makes you groan, only aiding to turn you on even more. You lean forward and pull him towards you, kissing him with a hunger like never before. You taste your own arousal on his tongue, and you swear you feel feral.

Your hands push on his chest and you make him lay down on the bed. Before he can say anything to you, you’re undressing him. The first thing to go is his tank top. You throw it on the floor without any care. Next comes his bottoms. You tug them down, allowing his cock to spring free. You smile at the sight of it, wasting no time. You let some saliva drip from your mouth, right on to the tip, and you use it to stroke him. He groans in pleasure.

”Fuck, V,” he moans. His hips thrust up towards you. “Nggh, fuck, please.”

You waste no more time putting him in your mouth. You happily suck on his cock, tongue flicking and twirling around the tip as you look up at him with big eyes. “Fuck, I missed this,” you say after taking your mouth off of him with a pop. You continue to stroke him as you speak. “God, you’re huge. Can barely fit you down my throat.”

His hand is stroking at your hair as he watches you. “You take me so well, though,” he says. “Always did. Swear to god no one has even taken me that deep ‘til I met you.”

You take him back into your mouth, and you smirk around his cock as he throws his head back in pleasure, hand slightly pushing you forward. It’s wet and sloppy, and every time you feel the tip hit the back of your throat, your pussy clenches, begging for something, anything it could get.

Suddenly, he’s pulling on your hair, taking you off of him. “I need to fuck you,” he grunts, sitting himself up. “And if you keep using your throat on me like that, I’m not gonna last.”

He maneuvers you so that you’re on your hands and knees, ass high up in the air. “Fuck!” He say, giving it a slap.

You moan as the tingling sensation, and you push yourself back towards him. You’re absolutely dripping, your cunt begging to be filled. “River,” you whine. “Please.”

He smirks down at you, continuing to run his large hands over your ass. “Please, what?” He teases. His hand grabs hold of his hard cock, and he runs the tip up and down between your folds. “Wet as fuckin’ ever,” he comments, and he lets out a chuckle as you continue to whine, pressing your ass back into him. “Tell me what you want, V.”

”Damn it, River,” you grunt. “Fuck me already.”

“So needy,” he comments, but he wastes no more time, pushing himself inside of you. He moans as he feels your walls begin to clench around him. “So wet,” he huffs. “Lettin’ me slide right in.”

You mewl as his cock stretches you open. He gives you a few moments to adjust before he begins to thrust into you. He slides himself almost completely out before he slams his hips into yours. His hands have an unreal grip on your waist as he pulls you back onto him. It doesn’t take long for one of them to travel up your body til it’s at the top of your neck and grabbing at your hair. ”Oh, fuck!” You yell. A smile spreads across your face as he pulls you up, pressing your back against his chest. “Fuck me,” you groan. “River, please don’t stop.”

He’s breathing heavily in your ear, letting out small grunts as he continues to pound into you. “Still so fucking tight,” he says. “I missed you. Couldn’t fuck anyone else without thinking about you.” It feels like he’s confessing all of his sins to you, and in a way, he was.

Truly, River tried to move on from you. There were plenty of women who he’d spend his nights in bed with, but each and every time, the only way he’d finish is if he’d closed his eyes and imagined you. Your hair, your soft skin, your eyes. God, did he love your eyes, and he’s reminded of that when you tilt your head back to look at him. Your brows are furrowed and your eyelids feel heavy as your mouth hangs open in pleasure.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” You’re beaming up at him, completely fucked out. “I missed you. Love you so much, River.” Before you can even think about it, you’re cumming around him.

As he feels your walls tighten around him, arousal dripping out of you, his hips only work into you even harder. “Fuck yes,” he gasps. “Fuck, can I cum inside of you?”

You whine, your arm reaching behind you to grab hold of his neck. You nod before pulling him down to press a kiss to his lips. His hips begin to stall, and he pulls away, eyes squeezing shut as he spills into you.

With a few final thrusts, the two of you finally crumble back onto the bed. His arms shake as he struggles to not completely crush you. You can feel his hot breath against your back as he presses his forehead into his, leaving soft kisses on your skin. “I’m sorry,” he finally says after a bit. “Didn’t mean to just… leave you the way I did. I was scared that you’d see me differently.”

There’s a pang in your chest as he confesses to you, and you turn yourself around. Your hands reach up to hold his face. “I was scared too,” you tell him. “I didn’t know if my plan was going to work or not… I didn’t know it would leave me asleep for two years—If I could change things, I would… I should have been more open about what was going on.”

He leans into you, nuzzling your nose with his own. “You sure you wanna try again, V?” He asks. “I’m not the same man you once knew.”

You shake your head, shrugging. “When I told you I loved you, I meant it,” you say. “I did all of this so that I could live a life with you… If you’ll still have me, that is.”

He smiles and lets out a soft chuckle. “I love you too,” he says before kissing you. He then rolls off of you to lay by your side. His eyes glance over at the clock as he pulls you into his arms. “Let’s take a nap,” he says. “We can shower, and I’ll take you out for lunch after.”

You weakly nod, already dozing off. “Okay, River.”

He smiles. “Okay, V.”

30 Days Posts of Mass Effect └ Paragon or Renegade

Genji x gender neutral reader

Pre-Overwatch Recall, part 1 of journey to forget

Part 1 (you are here) // Part 2 // Part 3

Challenge (day 4: recognition)

Requested: No

Word Count: 1,473

The trek up the Himalayas wasn’t an easy one, they were mountains after all. Though the risks were high, the reward was great.

(y/n) was making their way up to the mountains for one purpose, taking refuge in the Shambali. The Shambali was the name of the monastery in the Himalayan Mountains, it resided omnics with their own religion. But they weren’t going there for pilgrimage, they were going up to forget their Overwatch life. 

They are– were.. an Overwatch agent.

Continua a leggere

Alive?

This is a dream…or some cruel, horrendous joke.

But he’s right there. He’s alive.

The Young Wolf’s knees meet earth with an unceremonious thud as she stares up at her Vanguard, her mentor, her friend.

You’re alive?

The Ace of Spades is a steady weight on her hip but for a moment, it isn’t a crushing reminder of her failure but a firm reassurance from a friend. Is this what hope feels like? After so long, trudging from one debilitating atrocity to another, can she…finally have a win without repercussions?

Can she have her best friend back?

“Hey kiddo,” Cayde smiles at her, moving from his place beside the Warlock Vanguard to approach the trembling Hunter. He kneels down, laying a hand - Traveler, it’s solid, it’s real - along her shoulder. Her head lifts a fraction and in an instant, her arms are bound around his neck and a heavy, anguished sob is torn from her chest.

“Aw, missed me, huh?” He tries to tease even as he gathers the Guardian into his arms and holds her tight. “It’s okay. I’m fine, yeah?”

She can’t answer. Words are knots in her throat that will not dislodge.

Cayde-6 looks over his shoulder at Ikora with a smile and she folds her arms across her chest, a gentle warmth to her smile as they stay in silence.

He's here and she can - fuck, she's missed him.

After the Leviathan, after making peace with his death - she never dreamt she'd see him again.

And maybe it's not really him.

But the arms that hold her are too familiar to deny.

You're alive.

She's sure this is only temporary. Some last ditch effort from the Traveler to protect itself. To rally.

But she doesn't care.

Maybe this time…she'll get to say goodbye.

Hey, take me with you.

—

Forevers: @halo-2 @reaped-winnower @forgotten-by-the-stars @sugarcoated44 @cayde-6 @aetosavros​ @niemands-bibliothek @paracausal-hunter @silverhandsamurais @orbdotexe

Bayverse ideas I found cool

What it says on the tin :D ~ Not saying that all these are ideas are wasted in Bayverse btw, some worked just fine within the movies, some could have used more depth and some are indeed wasted potential, SAY GO!

1. Jazz as second in command of the Autobots 2. Decepticon Police Car Barricade 3. Mikaela, just, everything about her 4. Girl Gestalt Arcee, Chromia and Elita 5. Humans and Autobots working together - like, seriously! I would have enjoyed these movies so much more if instead of following Sam, we had Lennox as the main character and had scene his team bonding with the Autobots as they work together to catch Decepticons. I would have loved to see that happen, but alas, we just have the concept and one like from Epps when he says "they killed my friends" while referring to the Autobots in Dark of the Moon 6. Old man Jetfire 7. The whole Sentinel storyline - would have made a far better story if they had given it more to time, but I really liked the idea and what we got! 8. Humanity turning against the Autobots - this is something I always assumed would happen in the shows in which the Bots are common knowledge - the good thing about this is how it leads to good character arcs and drama for the Autobots, mainly Optimus Prime. His arc (carried over from the end of Dark of the Moon) in Age of Extinction was good! Liked it a lot and it made me love this version of Optimus! Not as well written as it could have been, but the idea is great and they did a good-enough job with it. 9. Laserbeak as a cocky assassin who can shapeshift - great stuff, great stuff :D 10. Shockwave and his giant pet sandworm 11. Optimus starting the 4th movie as broken as he was 12. Having a dad as the Protagonist and drawing clear parallels to him and Prime - I found it cute and they actually stuck with this in the final :D Also, Optimus and Cade is maybe my favourite dynamic any version of Prime has with a human 13. Cade being fucking badass and doing what he does for the Autobots 14. Crosshairs, mostly his design - his trenchcoat looks so epic! <3 15. Lockdown, I liked his role in the 4th movie a lot 16. Megatron's whole plan to use the humans to make him a new body - nice plan pal 17. Quintessa 18. Optimus being brainwashed instead of Nemesis Prime being a clone - and being forced to turn against his family! Super angst source, too bad they didn't manage to make it good 19. The whole negotiation scene between Megs and Lennox was nice - I wish it had meant anything 20. The Dinobot babies