Can’t stop thinking about how, after you see Johnny’s memories with Alt, you can ask him why he did it. Why did he storm Arasaka Tower? For Alt? For glory? For his ego?
And to your question, he’ll only answer “Guess.”.
He refuses to explain, refuses to give you an easy answer, refuses to justify his actions. He says you know me, you are me, you saw what I saw and did what I did. My actions speak for themselves. Make of them what you will.
And maybe some of that is convenience for us as players to read different motivations into him, or maybe I’m just overthinking, but out of a game filled with beautiful lines, this one that sticks with me.
Hi! I don't know if you're taking prompts for the prompt post you rebloged, but if you are, maybe angst 10, fluff 2, random 28 or kiss 17 for v/rogue?
Hey! I’ve never done prompts before, because I don’t think much of my writing, but I’m happy to try my hand. V/Rogue is a pairing that I really enjoy! I wish more people could see the potential there.
PROMPTS: “How drunk was I?” + top of head kiss + “Is there a reason you’re blushing like that?”. GN!V/Rogue.
V has woken up in a wide variety of strange places and stranger situations, ranging from the Kabuki No-Tell with a new tattoo to the Peralezes’ apartment with the mayor and his wife snoring on their chest. Twice, they’ve woken up so drunk that the hangover had yet to hit. The second time, they woke up and went straight back to drinking.
So really, they reason, there can be no harm to opening their eyes. This cannot be the worst thing they’ve ever done.
Still, it will be so bright.
In an act of responsible compromise, V stretches first.
As they begin to uncurl their body and turn, several things happen. First, the seat cover warbles underneath them, unsticking from their face with a hellish sting. Second, their leg reaches out for the other half of the bed and finds instead empty air. In the ensuing struggle for balance, V throws their arm out, smacks it against the edge of a table, curses, and finally overturns, tumbling onto the tiled floor with a thud.
Dizzy and aching, V pries their eyes open.
“Sleep well?” Rogue asks.
V jolts upright, banging their head against the underside of the table. “Fuck!”
A cursory glance confirms what they feared: their drunk self had decided that Rogue’s booth at the Afterlife looked like a preem place to sleep it off. Embarrassment itches at their spine as they crawl out from under the table.
“How drunk was I?”
Rogue looks down with mild amusement and exactly no sympathy. “If you can’t remember, that’s your first clue.”
V rubs at the back of their head. A goose egg has already begun to form. “Don’t suppose I can blame this one on Johnny?”
Rogue hums in consideration. “What do you think--would Johnny have told me I had beautiful eyes?”
V squints. “Potentially.”
“Mm. Would he have followed that up by asking me to, quote, “top him gently?”“
V is not drunk enough for this conversation. Not even close. They contemplate sliding back under the table. They’re stealthy enough to pull it off.
Rogue hooks a hand into the collar of their jacket. Their cheeks flame red. Rogue only chuckles.
“Is there a reason you’re blushing like that?” she asks. Her voice drops, suddenly serious. “Oh. V. You thought I didn’t know?”
V recognizes that tone from the holo. Rogue uses that tone when she can afford no nonsense, delay, equivocation, or lie. She doesn’t have to use it. V would fold like a house of cards anyway. They hunch lower, hoping the tall collar of the jacket might hide their face.
“...hoped. Figured I misread somethin’. You and Johnny--”
Rogue releases V’s collar with a snort, though her hand remains on their shoulder. “That ship sailed long ago. Sailed and crashed, spectacularly. I’m interested in the present now. And V?”
V glances up, turning their head. The movement brings them face to face with Rogue, inches away. Her eyes narrow in scrutiny. Her hand burns on their neck. They swallow, hard, and Rogue swoops forward, ghosting past their cheek until her lips brush against their ear.
“I’m interested in you,” she whispers.
Just like that, they’re released. Their cheeks burn so brightly they’re certain the heat can be felt from a mile away, and they scrabble for any kind of grasp on sensible behavior. A couple feet away in the booth, both too near and far too far, Rogue sits, regal and unruffled, and watches as V tries and fails to compose themself.
“Need a drink?” she asks. “Claire has to have water somewhere in here.”
V leaps to their feet, already turning towards the bar. They’re stopped by Rogue’s pointed eyebrow and even more pointed reprimand.
“Sit back down. It’s my club. I can get a drink if I damn well want one.”
At Rogue’s nod, one of her attendees peels off. V’s cheeks color again, and they drop wordlessly back into their seat. Rogue tsks and motions them closer. They comply before they can question it, sliding up against her side.
Her hand musses through V’s hair, gentle and soothing. V's eyes drift closed. They could sleep like this.
Before they can, Rogue hands them a glass of water. They drink quickly. The water relieves their dry throat and the ache behind their skull. Their mind still lags behind though, skipping like a broken record. There’s something they meant to say.
Ah, right.
“I’m interested too,” V rasps.
Rogue laughs and drops a kiss on the top of their head.
“I guessed,” she says. “Now sleep.”
V has woken up in better places, true. They’ve woken up on larger, more comfortable couches, and even on actual beds. Still, hours later, when it’s light outside and they wake again to find Rogue still waiting, they will have never woken happier.
FIN
(thanks for the ask! feedback/other asks more than welcome. I’m on a Cyberpunk craze rn, but I’m open to any prompts y’all feel like)
Listen, I love V/Takemura as much as anyone else, but the ship requires that they both operate at 100% morosexual.
Think about it! Goro watches some random street punk steal from Arasaka, die in the process, then attempt to do it again after only five minutes of reconnaissance. And V watches that guy that tried to kill them mere days ago take terrible selfies, struggle to google, and offer tea to a corporate heiress he kidnapped. And they decide to fuck?
I have an unfortunate diease where I concoct new AUs at all times for all media I consume whether or not I consciously decide to. It is called good taste.
[spoilers follow] It’s a possibility! We know that they’re not hollow in the Dream No More ending, as the Void Heart is unified under their will. That would also mean that they’re not hollow in the Sealed Siblings ending though, which makes me very sad. The Hollow Knight ending implies that they’re hollow just by its name... that leaves two not hollow, one hollow, and then the Godhome endings, which I do not know nearly enough about to speculate on. I’m not that good at combat. Sue me.
i’m curious about who people romanced in each of the dragon age games and if there’s like a trend to it so please reblog this post with who you romanced in the tags
Carpe does not mean seize. It means pluck, pick, harvest, tear off, tear out, rend, make use of, revile, criticize, slander, harass, or enjoy.
That surprised me. It’s a violent, vivid word. Perhaps that’s why ‘seize’ fits so well in its place. It catches some of the word’s power, some of it’s rush, some of its wrinkled folds and ragged edges.
Diem, as promised, does mean day.
“Tear off your day,” the poet says. I imagine ripping into a calendar, cutting my fingers on its edges, smearing my hands with ink. How heavy would the square I drag out feel?
“Pick your day,” we’re told. Which one? There are so many, and I am so small.
“Make use of your day,” he suggests, echoing advice everyone has heard and despised a thousand times before.
Carpe diem, the black print reads.
“While we speak,” I translate, starting a few words before, “enviable time flees: enjoy this day, and place no faith in what comes after.”
It’s the same argument as whether or not the Knight is the Shade Lord. Do you consider a higher being’s current avatar/executor to be the same as the higher being?
I vote yes, but I feel like Grimm and the Knight respectively are less in control than we think they are. A higher being’s power and instincts are too much even for a permanent body and acceptable form (see the White Lady). They are the same person, but there’s too much person for the body to manage it all, so they’re either ruled by their nature or in constant conflict with it.
20 mythology/ fantasy prompts to brighten your day!
1) Where do dreams come from?
2) Why can some use magic, but others can’t?
3) Where did humans (or whatever species your characters are) come from? Was there anything special about the firsts?
4) Who tells the tide when to come in?
5) Why do trees grow so tall?
6) Why does it rain?
7) Where does god (or the gods) live?
8) Why are there mountains?
9) How old is the world?
10) Why is there sadness in the world?
11) Who makes souls?
12) What do different cloud shapes mean?
13) When was the world created?
14) Where do memories go when we can’t remember them any more?
15) Why does the sun set? (and where does it go?)
16) Where does magic come from?
17) Why are there so many different animals?
18) Why do emotions sometimes physically hurt?
19) How did the first magic users learn their craft?
20) Why do some people become evil?
This is by the Mincing Mockingbird guy (of “I’d sell you to satan for one corn chip” and “The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math” fame) and you can buy them here