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You’re tearing up my soul Killing the one that you loved I suffer through your eyes Killing the one that you loved Have you lost your mind Killing the one that you loved I gave you all my life
Let your soul find its way to me I already chose...
<3
SILVERV WEEKEND PROMPTS
this event will take place on January 25 & 26, 2025
January 25: Weakness // Separation
January 26: Intoxication // Regrets // Free Day
Just Another Fool
Written for @silverv-week. Prompt: intoxication/regrets.
As soon as Rogue left the hotel room, V leaned over the edge of the bed and vomited.
She’s a fucking idiot. A goddamn fool.
Johnny materialized in front of her. “Oh fuck,” he said, not a hint of remorse in his voice.
She glared up at him. “Oh fuck? That seriously all you have to say right now?” She spat more bile and blood off the edge of the bed, right at his feet. Not like it mattered.
He glitched on top of a table across the room. He was the picture of casualty, leaning back against the wall, head rolled to the side to watch her with one knee up, his arm resting across it. He shrugged. “Didn’t think the pills would lay you out like this.”
The night before was a fuzzy memory at the back of her mind. There were flashing lights and music so loud it made her ears ring. She remembered drink after drink, pill after pill. There had been a car crash and a stripper. He could’ve gotten them all killed because he was too busy trying to get off. Using her body.
Keep reading on ao3.
Feeding the male V/Johnny nation with my silverv weekend fics
I didn't get around to writing much for silverv weekend so this is all ive got, for the intoxication/regrets prompt
He never really likes to see V get plastered. It reminds him too much of himself at his worst, when drugs and booze made him act out. No, didn’t make him, not exactly, but still. Hell, even though he’s the one who took the body on a joyride what feels like an eternity ago, it's one of many regrets. He wrecked his own body ten times over, V doesn’t deserve the same shit. They deserve better than that, better than him. The more their body breaks down, though, the more they grasp at any and all coping mechanisms, and too often now they’ll down a drink or two before heading to a gig. A few pills for the pain here and there, maybe an extra. Johnny hates it, hates to see the pattern form and knowing he can’t say shit because V will just call him a hypocrite and they’ll be right. He’s a self proclaimed sommelier of illicit substances, and he has no right telling them what to do with their body, while they still have it. The first few cigarettes he was simply grateful, but seeing empty packs on the floor of the apartment, the bloodshot eyes in the mirror? This is absolutely not what he wants, not what he even expected when they first met. They didn’t seem the type to fall into the same shit as him, because they were just…better. Weren’t they?
Part 1. In my native language sounds better.🫡
“He's fucked in the head, the world's fucked in the head, and YOU'RE fucked in the head because MY fucked up head is inside it.
Guess if you wanna save the world, that's the first step; get fucked in the head.”
- black steel [silverv ficlets] —
. day 7: home .
I'm writing to you on Christmas Eve, 2079, and tonight I'm thinking that no matter how everything's turned out, I'm glad we got to spend the holidays together back in '77. What's it like where you are?
on ao3 ->
