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merge-conflict · 1 year

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wip wednesday

i have not been very productive lately and i'm frustrated about it so i'm sharing a little snippet of some more valentine whump for fun. she's alive but she's not happy about it. post devil-ending (canon-divergent)

content warning: severe emotional distress, voluntary medical sedative

“Alright. How about you just listen?” another pause. “I came here to talk with you, because I think you’re reacting very reasonably to something very unreasonable–”

grin wide. grimace. laugh like a bullet on pavement.

“–I suppose that’s a bit of an understatement. But you don’t have to be ashamed.”

“Fuck you.”

like that, rapid fire. she was burning hot, all over, like molten metal. she was supposed to be dead. now she was a husk. empty. discarded.

“I mean that. I know you’re not feeling much like yourself, and that is not an easy thing. Not easy at all. And you were very careful not to hurt anyone else, Valentina–“

“No.”

“You were very careful, V. You’re a problem solver. But no one has told you what is happening, and that’s why I’m here. Do you understand?”

as if there was any doubt to what the problem was. a problem could not solve itself. just twist inward over and over until it was worn through, until it could be put out of its misery, the misery–

no weakness, not here. sharp tooth, silver tongue, smile like a dog about to snap.

“Yes.”

“Alright, the first problem– stay with me, V–“

teeth creaking like bone: the problem was, the problem was, the problem

“The first problem, V, is that everything has been thrown at you too quickly. We need to slow things down. This is going to help you feel a little calmer so we can talk. Here, now, I need you to look at me, because I’m going to show you how it works.”

it was bait for a trap but there was nothing sweeter than oblivion. nothing. (sharp and bitter and sweeter than honey. a body can learn to crave the knife. sharp and strong and quick, don't hesitate–)

the doctor was smaller than her voice suggested. plain-faced with the most dizzyingly blue eyes –like the sky, the sky, the badlands sky endless aching gone gone gone– mercifully professional, as though she were giving a recorded lecture and not facing some huddled scrap of wretched humanity. she was holding a mask, demonstrating the little canister attached, speaking in a buzzing drone, giving assurances–

the performance was unnecessary. the mask was light, soft, comforting against the bruised flesh of her cheek. a muzzle for the aching, snapping teeth of despair.

in and out, in and out, in and out.

all the sharp edges of reality filed down to something soft and smooth and tolerable. (you don't get it, but you will. you will. you don't get it, but you will. you don't get it–)

“Feeling better?”

the doctor did not smile. did not frown. what she felt she kept tucked up and behind her breastbone, her face smooth like the surface of a pond.

“Yes.”

no visible vapor in the word, and yet it still thickened the sound. finally, her soul unclenched. she wanted to cry but could not.

she could not. she could not–

“Very good. Now the second problem, V, is that you don’t know what’s going to happen. Do you want me to tell you?”

despite best effort there was always a time other than now. (still here. Still Here. it’s alright. stop looking.) her eyes were heavy. they could not ask for anything more than sleep. it was all she had to give. perhaps they would realize their mistake, let her slip under and never come back up. there were worse things than death.

there were worse things–

there were, the doctor’s eyes were saying, things that still needed to be done. must be done. would be done.

“…yes.”

#wip wednesday #cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 fic #just because some feral ai papered over all the cracks in your soul with a dead rockerboy doesn't mean you can call in to work #you can't even leave work actually because they're studying you to see what happens next #i am once again thinking of the allhands call where i and all of my coworkers were casually referred to as human capital 🤡#it's a real term but using it to describe people you're ostensibly speaking to sure is a A Choice #anyway who doesn't love making a difficult mental and emotional recovery in the belly of a machine designed to crush your spirit #valentine #experimental style

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