#valerie inside outside

[gothambunny]

imagine your ex and her new girl are chillin right outside your office, crazy.

[ghostoffuturespast]

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝚆𝙰𝙺𝙴𝚂 𝚄𝙿 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝚂𝚃?

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙴𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙲𝙾𝙵𝙵𝙴𝙴?

❤️ For Grandpa and River pls! Asking both because they aren't always the same person. 😏

Thanks for the asks! 🧡

Soft ship meme questions here

Who wakes up first? & Who makes the coffee?

9 out of 10 River wakes up first and makes the coffee. I headcannon he’s a light sleeper, mild insomniac, and just used to being up ass early after all those years working at the NCPD. Also, I imagine the man runs on sheer force of will and coffee. So that first homemade cup of joe in the morning is sacred, especially when you’re forced to drink the chooh that’s been burning in the coffee pot at work the rest of the day.

Grandpa’s sleep schedule is all over the place so she’ll sleep in any opportunity she gets, and she sleeps pretty heavily. The 1 out 10 times she is up first it’s probably because Nibbles harassed her awake for breakfast. River tends to let V sleep in, unless they've got places to be, so he’ll go read or find something quiet to do to keep himself occupied. On the occasion they’ve both slept in, River might roll over and find a nice way to wake her up… Grandpa will offer moral support when River makes coffee though provided she manages to get her butt out from underneath the covers. Sleepy seatbelt.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Multiverse Police (pt.3)

JL very soon finds out there's no reasoning or controlling this particular brand of crazy. Amity, as they like to call themselves - 'Because saying Interdimensional Law Enforcement every time is long and ILE is boring', Dani explains to them - do whatever they want and deem necessary, and no one can stop them.

They have bargained with the US government to let their whole town stay for a week in Illinois like one would ask to stay in a hotel room. They have all but swiped all the tech shops in the nearby area, and somehow, they had real, actual money to pay for it, despite not even originating from this dimension. They claimed it was due to the Ghost - or God, the opinions were mixed - of Time making it work. They visited a bunch of people. Heroes, that was.

One memorable visit was one they paid to Flashes. Vlad, the mayor of Amity Park and unofficial leader of ILE, and Tucker, a kid with an insane knowledge on all and every kind of tech, performed a whole lecture to Flash family as well as their friends and colleagues, on importance of safety while time-traveling, the best ways to fix the timelines and even on upgrades to their costumes.

The other important visit was the one they paid to Diana, although that one was not so climactic - Jazz just gave her a bunch of letters and a card with a summoning sigil on it. 'It's for Pandora, she enjoys having a cup of tea with Themyskirians,' the redhead claimed.

Now, it was Batman's turn, it seems.

Danny was standing - more like floating - in front of Red Hood. They were at the Watchtower since Batman did not like Amity coming to Gotham. In his opinion, that would be just calling for trouble, and both Valerie - head of ILE security - and the records of other Batmans said he was not wrong.

"Yeah, this one's fucked up," Danny says after almost three minutes of looking straight at Hood, and the man huffs:

"Thanks, I got that part," he throws back, but Danny just laughs softly.

"No, sorry, I didn't mean it as you personally. Just, like, compared to the other Red Hoods I've met. At least you're not fucked up beyond reason, I can still help you," the ghost boy says cheerfully and claps his hands, "Ready to get rid of the boiling rage in your veins?"

And, before either Hood or Batman can say anything, he reaches his hands inside Jason, and the man tenses up, holding his breath. Batman hovers close - he's read about the same kind of procedure being performed by Danny on other versions of Jason in the files, but reading about it and witnessing it is two entirely different things.

Danny's hands start turning green. The same thing he did with the portal before happens again: glowing, Lazarus green flows up his hands, like veins outside his skin. Only this time, it's not as bright as the portal was. It's murky and dull.

A few seconds later, Danny slowly takes his hands out of Red Hood's chest, and Bruce is really glad he was standing so close because Jason all but falls down to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. Batman holds him by the shoulder, keeping him up, but Danny shakes his head:

"No, he better sit down. He's probably gonna feel lightheaded for a few minutes. Oh, and catch," he throws something to Batman, which he catches on reflex. It's a weird, jello-like substance of dark, dirty green color, almost like a stress ball.

"What is it?" He asks, and Danny grins:

"A souvenir. That's his Pit Rage," he nods to Red Hood.

"My what?!" Jason snaps his head to the ball in Batman's hands.

"The parts that made it actual Rage. Think, like, an infection, or a parasite, or just- You know what, it's what you get when some crazy asshole bathes you in ghost sewers," Danny shrugs, completely disregarding the face expressions Batman and Red Hood are giving him. "Speaking of which, do you wanna come with us when we get rid of those Lazarus Pits of yours?"

There's a bit of silence, before Red Hood breathes out:

"Hell, yes."

-------------------------

I'll be writing another part with Amity getting rid of Ra's and Lazarus Pits, yeah. In the meantime, Sam is looking for Constantine to give him a slap on the hand because all the John Constantine's pieces of soul were like a massive jigsaw puzzle to her, considering there's more than one John Constantine and all of them can't stop selling their fucking souls even for a minute and Sam is so done.

Tucker and Tim are nerding out in WE with no sleep or food, Damian gets to play with Cujo, Kon is discussing clones' trials and tribulations with Dani, Jazz is giving Supes a long overdue lecture on how to treat clones, Dan is looking for someone to fight - so far he's found Captain Marvel but he knows he is just a kid so instead of actual fighting they are playing Mario Cart - Val is having fun with Arrows because sharp shooters gotta stick together, and Vlad had abandoned all of his responsibilities and is hiding in Lex Luthor's penthouse, discussing cat breeds and how annoying heroes can be.

Paulina made her way into Gotham without anyone noticing and befriended Harley and Sirens, so Batman may or may not find a particular clown dead when he comes back to his city. Dash is actually not up for trouble, so he is on duty in Amity Park, doing tours for all the curious people who got interested in ghost town and decided to visit. GIW agents are in the process of locating all the Pits, Maddie is elbow deep in a scientific discussion with Martian Manhunter, Jack is upgrading the Amity Ship with all the new tech he's got, and Cyborg is keeping watch on him.

Did I forget anyone? I most likely did.

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Tag list: @mae-mae-mae @okami-love @fantasticstoryteller @ultra-stormsaga

[romanoffsbish]

Please, Forgive Me

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

You broke up with Natasha—what have you done? | WC: 1,882

Warnings: Brief Angst | Toxic “Friend” / Natasha (if you squint) | Nonsexual Nudity (18+) | H/C Ending

“You look really pretty," Valerie, your best friend said with a smile that made your stomach flip into turmoil.

——

The smile on her face dropped, the sound of your chair scraping against the linoleum the clearest rejection. It made you sick and regretful for the last twelve hours.

It was an adrenaline rush spurred on by another fight with your beloved girlfriend, Natasha... Your beautiful, sweet Natasha with enamoring eyes and a sultry smirk.

You lurched up the dinner you just shared with that traitor Valerie, who smiled at you so tenderly, it was alarming. With her repulsive blue eyes, riddled with darker hued lines to which you confused with safety.

They were dangerous; a dark storm you got caught up in, not much unlike the one you were running through.

You missed the soft pair of green that belonged to the woman who owned the key to your heart and knew the way to unlocking your soul with purposeful fingers.

Looking into her eyes was a luxury only you and Yelena were granted; the halves of Natasha's heart, oh my...

You'd broken that heart only thirteen hours ago, now you were running through the rain to make amends. It was well past midnight but you had to get across town to the compound Natasha was unfortunately staying at.

If only you would have cast that she-devil aside at the first warning Natasha threw your way you'd be safe in her arms right now, likely looking into her eyes that reflected the same heat the fire beside you would've.

Natasha's eyes were your favorite feature, truly. The way they changed your view of her in various places always filled you with wonder on how she saw yours in the first place, she was just too good for this world.

At the compound they were almost always glazed over with a clear authority no one could question. From a side glance you'd see the Black Widow, but whenever she looked your way, which was often when you'd visit, there was a sparkle of humanity reserved for you alone.

Inside the four walls of your apartment her eyes always shined like brilliant emeralds, and her teasing smirk oftentimes softened into a goofy smile; a pure love that unfolded within her irises, right before your very own.

When you were outside she'd usually wear sunglasses, but on the off chance she'd forgotten them you could see the way the sun drew out light splotches of brown. Which fondly reminded you of the days you two spent wandering the countryside, getting lost in forests with shades of green that reflected the same field you got lost in every time you looked into your lovers orbs.

They were complex—guarded, but you had worn down her walls enough to get a peak into her greatest joys and most heartbreaking sadness. You blinked hard, a hand on the freezing call box outside of the compound going unfelt as you tried to forget the pools of sadness.

Those were the last things you saw when you broke up.

The thought alone nearly halts you, the minuscule contents left within your stomach churning tauntingly as if to remind you that this was all your fault. Valerie told you Natasha was being toxic, and in some twisted sense you actually believed the hypocrites words.

You told Natasha she was toxic, and you knew how much that likely shattered her remaining self image.

What kind of person does that to the love of their life?

All of you wanted to push the code and call out to her, but you realized now how selfish it was to expect her to console you. This heartbreak was all your own doing because you truly thought Valerie was your friend, that she was right thinking Nat was being controlling, but she was a two face liar and you were an absolute fool.

Natasha deserved better, your hand fell from the box and you were prepared to walk away, but a soft voice full of exhaustion called through the speaker, "Y/N?"

All you could do was to pitifully whimper her name.

You cast a look down at your watch, a photo of the two of you smiling popped up under a bright red 1:32AM that flashed beneath a raindrop, which magnified the early morning hour that filled you with shame.

There was no time to apologize for the impromptu arrival as you heard the loud buzz that let you in. You resumed your sprint and through your tears made it to the place Natasha stood ready to catch you in her arms. The impact had to have hurt her just as it did you but she stood strong, like an unmovable fortress. A warm breath fanned over your chilled cheek and fresh hot guilt trailed down your cheeks when you felt her relax.

Natasha wasn't angry, no, she was relieved. This was meant to inspire joy in you but it hurt you more. Of course the woman would forgive you just like that.

"I'm so sorry Nat," you wailed, breaking the silence, "Fu-fuck, I can't believe I-I," you couldn't stop the harsh hiccups that stopped your heartfelt apology.

This absolutely made Natasha panic, you had stopped breathing for more than three seconds, she was about to rush you to the medical wing if not for your sharp inhale. "Keep breathing detka, just breathe, please."

You looked up into her eyes and for the first time ever you saw fear, in the bravest set of eyes you'd ever seen.

"I," you tried again but she pecked your lips shut. "I don't need you to apologize detka, you coming back to me is apology enough. I'm not mad, just worried, so please don't fuss and just let me take you inside..."

Natasha was a warrior but right now she was breaking, her eyes were pleading with you to finally stand down. To wave your white flag and let her fix everything.

"Okay," you whispered, and were rewarded with a warm kiss to your cheek that sent a shiver down your spine, which didn't go unnoticed by the worried spy.

Without question the redhead took you straight to her room and ran you a bath that likely rivaled the devil's. The redhead preferred room temp but never backed down from the challenge when it meant she could hold you close. Tonight was different though, even if she didn't need your apology she did need your consent.

In your relationship, that was technically called off, it was always welcome unless announced otherwise.

Natasha made no assumptions, and simply escorted you into the room when she deemed you'd adjusted to the rooms temperature enough before you were set to enter another that would have been polar opposite.

But you stopped her dead in her respectful tracks.

"Stay." She couldn't say no even if she wanted to, the way you looked over at her, like a frightened mouse, it made her forget all of the pain from the prior day.

There was nothing but tenderness in her touch when she tilted you up and slid in behind you. Her arms didn't even have a chance to settle around you as you instantly rolled over. Natasha had huffed in genuine surprise when you straddled her, your arms dangling over her shoulders as your face pressed into her neck. Her muscular arms locked over one another around your lower back and she hummed a soothing tune.

A gentle smile adorned Natasha's face when she heard the first snore then felt it rumble against her skin. She was ticklish and suddenly desperate to clean the both of you up and get you tucked into her Avengers bed.

The first time she heard you call the mattress that with such disgust she became defensive. But, before she could match your energy you elaborated and it was so sweet, how you regarded your apartment bed as hers, that she learned to listen first and question later.

Natasha knew yesterday afternoon that you'd come back, once you've had time to think of course. Not because she was manipulative or cocky either, but because she believed in not only your love, but her gut. She knew that as soon as you saw Valerie's intentions you'd come here to apologize for thoughts given to you.

The glint in your eyes when you're being truthful was missing when you broke things off, and so she knew this was just a standard moment of lived experience.

Natasha knew you wholly, which is why she knew better than to expect you to stay asleep when she left the room. She returned to find you sat up, the sleeves of her hoodie were balled up in your fists that rubbed your eyes in an attempt to make your vision less bleary.

"Detka," she hummed, it was angelic like, "I made you some tea because I wanna get ahead of your cold."

You pouted and shook your head. "Natasha..."

A tense sigh left her and your back straightened.

"I am not mad Y/N," her tone was level and void of unsureness, "you can't sway me because I love you, and I know you were being poisoned by your dear friend."

"Enemy," you corrected venomously and she chuckled heartily, as if your distaste healed her fresh wounds.

"The point is I love you and knew you loved me too."

"I do," you pleaded with pooling tears in your eyes. "You are my one and only Natasha, I'm so sorry."

"Don't cry pretty girl," she wiped away tears that slid halfway down your cheeks. "Don't be sorry either, I think we're stronger than this moment detka."

"But I hurt you, you should hate me." Natasha gritted her teeth and nearly spilled the tea as she set it down with a purposeful slam. "Don't ever say that again."

You blinked in shock as she gripped your chin and forced you to stop staring at the wall behind her, and into her eyes instead. Another sob shakily left your lips as you wordlessly understood the truth in them, she wasn't capable of doing anything else but loving you.

Instead of trying to make your point that she deserved better, which you knew would be futile, you leaned in and kissed her with a gentle passion. "I'm sorry..."

"I forgive you," Natasha relented, giving you a sense of closure even if she didn't mean the words. Her entire life up until you required a ruthless demeanor, but she has taken so well to the softer side of life with you. It was impossible for her to feel the anger she should towards you when you'd done nothing maliciously.

You called her toxic, it hurt; you didn't mean it though.

Intent is everything to the woman, and she knew yours was, ironically, under the influence of another's words.

Plus, Natasha knew on some level that she was toxic—it was something Valerie would come to find out once the redhead finally tapped into the fresh heartbreak...

For now though, she'd hold you close and listen to the way you breathed, a warmth, layered with a sense of calmness crept into her chest and soothed her woes with every subtle reminder that you were still hers.

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Shifts In Perspective

Summary: No One Knows AU Part 19, Sam holds a Phantom protest.

...

“I just… I don’t understand it,” Valerie says.  “We’re enemies.  Right?  Like we actually are.  But I swear he took that hit for me.  There’s nothing else he could have been doing.”

Danny, for his part, has adopted his usual strategy when Valerie starts talking about Phantom: say as little as possible.  So instead, he just makes a small noise of acknowledgement.

“I just don’t know what to make of it, is all,” Valerie says.  “I mean, I don’t know.  Does it sound like him to you?”

Stopping you from getting hurt by one of my parents’ weapons?  Yeah, that sounds like me, Danny doesn’t say.  Instead, he adjusts the bandana that hides his hair over the sunglasses that hide his eyes and says, “I don’t know.  Not from what you’ve said of him before.”

“I know,” Valerie groans, turning so her board flies into the alleyway in between the buildings ahead.  Danny tightens his grip around her waist from behind so he doesn’t fly off.

“And he put himself in harm’s way too,” Valerie continues.  “I don’t understand it.”

“I don’t either,” Danny says.  And because he can’t help asking, “So uh, what are you gonna do about it?”

“Right now?  Nothing,” Valerie says, taking them up over the next building.  “But it was definitely weird.  I want to know more.  Maybe… maybe I’ll just pay closer attention, watch him for a little bit.”

Well, that doesn’t say anything about what he should do.  He really doesn’t want to manipulate Valerie’s feelings in regards to him, even if her no longer actively hunting him sounds nice.  But he can’t see any clear direction for ‘I’m going to watch to see what I can learn.’  Obviously he’s not going to suddenly start being nefarious.  But if he does more good deeds than usual, that’s manipulative, right?  But it’s not like he can just ignore it if people are in danger, and he can’t just stop fighting ghosts.

Honestly, there are times he wishes he hadn’t found out who Valerie is just because of the headache of trying to figure out how to act around her anymore.

“That sounds like an okay idea,” Danny says anyway, because he has to say something to that.  “Just be safe, okay?”

“Aww, are you worried about me?” Valerie asks, and Danny can hear the tease in her voice even through her mask.  “Don’t worry, Danny.  I’ll still kick some ghost butt.”

Danny smiles a little.  “I have no doubt about that.”

Valerie laughs, and flies them both down to an alleyway a little ways from the school.  Danny hops off, and after making sure no one’s around, takes off his sunglasses and bandana.

“Thanks for the ride to school,” he says.

“No problem,” Valerie says, retracting her suit into her backpack.  “Sure beats the bus, huh?”

Danny grins.  “You said it.”

They walk the rest of the route to school, holding hands until they reach the parking lot, at which point they let go.  Danny did manage to ignore his guilt at the idea long enough to tell Valerie he doesn’t want Sam and Tucker to know they’re dating.  Valerie asked no questions, which Danny appreciated.  But that means all their dates take place outside school, and inside, they act as they always have— or, as they always have since they became friends.

So as they part ways in the hallway, Valerie turns and gives him a bright smile, says “See you at lunch,” and that’s that.

Danny grabs his stuff from his locker and starts heading for his first class, when suddenly, as he’s walking past the janitor’s closet, he hears a very clear sob from the inside.

He startles and turns to face it.  He doesn’t hear another sob, but there’s some very obvious muffled breathing.

“Uh you okay?” Danny calls.  He knocks gently on the door, only for it to swing open, the person inside clearly not having shut it all the way.

The person inside whirls around, and Danny stares at her for a minute, stunned.

“S-Sam?” he asks, trying to process what he’s seeing.  “Are you alright?”

Sam pulls in a shaky, horrible sounding breath, and gives him a terrible attempt at a glare.

“Leave— leave me alone,” she gasps, but it ends with her pressing her hand over her mouth in another sob.

“Hey,” Danny says, his hands and concern both shooting up as he takes a step into the closet.  “Hey, what’s wrong, you—”

“I said leave me alone!” Sam screams, and reaches out and shoves him hard back into the shelves of the closet.  Danny wheezes, the wind knocked out of him, but Sam runs out past him before he can say anything else.  Danny runs out into the hall as soon as he gets his breath back, but Sam’s already gone.

…

After that, Danny doesn’t see Sam for the rest of the morning, which makes him even more concerned.  He looks for a chance to talk to Tucker about it, but doesn’t manage to find one before lunch.  So he meets up quickly with Valerie, tells her he’ll be right back, and heads quickly to the lunchroom to check on her.

Instead, he finds Tucker sitting alone at a lunch table.  He looks up as he sees Danny approach, and looks away quickly after, but Danny can still see the nerves on his face.

“I haven’t seen Sam all day,” Tucker says anyway.  “Do you think she’s sick?”

“She’s not,” Danny says, looking at Tucker until he draws his gaze.  Tucker looks at him for a whole half a second before looking back down at the table, which has to be a record for lately.

“Actually,” Danny says, sitting down across from him.  “I found her this morning crying in the janitor’s closet.”

Tucker’s head snaps up, and now he’s looking at Danny.  “What?”

But before Danny can explain the little he knows, a box slams down on the table next to them, startling them both.

“We’re having a protest about Phantom,” Sam announces, glaring down at them both from over the box.

Danny and Tucker both exchange a brief glance before turning back to Sam.  Her face hasn’t changed from the firm glare she’s wearing.

“Um, okay,” Danny says, carefully.  “Sure.”

He doesn’t want to ask why, because while he doesn’t see any traces of that morning’s breakdown in her face, the fact that he hasn’t seen her since then can’t be a coincidence.

“You’re joking, right?” Tucker asks, looking at Sam in a way Danny can’t read.

“Absolutely not,” Sam says, with a harsh glare right at Tucker.  “My permit’s in the box, we’re setting it up after school.”

“You and me?” Tucker asks.

“No, all three of us, obviously,” Sam says.  She still hasn’t sat down.  “I’m not just going to leave Danny out.”

Danny raises his eyebrows slightly but doesn’t say anything.  It doesn’t feel like it would go over well to say much.

Tucker, however, does not seem to get this memo.  “Sam—” he starts.

“Great,” Sam snaps instead of letting him finish.  “I’ll meet you out front after school.  Bye.”

With that, she picks up the box again and storms off again without sitting down.

“She’s joking, right?” Tucker says after she leaves, seeming to be directed more at the empty space than at Danny.  Danny responds anyway.

“I don’t think she is,” he says slowly.  “But really, she didn’t look great this morning.  I don’t know if…” he trails off, not exactly sure what he’s trying to say.

Because what he’s thinking is I don’t know if I should take this too personally.

But he can’t say that to Tucker.

He looks after Sam for a moment, but though he can feel Tucker looking at him, when he turns Tucker just drops his gaze back to the table.

But after a second, he nods.  “Okay,” he says.  “After school, then.”

Danny nods.  “Yeah,” he says.  And that’s that.

…

Sam really goes all out.  It isn’t that surprising, especially with how rich her family is, but it’s still rather impressive in the course of a single day.

There’s giant posters with his face— well, his face as Phantom— on them, inside a stereotypical red circle with a line through it.  Sam hangs up a list of major grievances right next to the stage that’s already set up.  There’s stuff like property damage, public disruptions, time taken to finish fights, and a list of every single person who’s ever gotten hurt during a ghost fight.  Admittedly, the last part stings the most.  Danny keeps away from the stage.

He personally is standing at the archway entrance, handing out rubber bracelets that read “Phantom Sucks,” which, well if anything he can laugh at the irony.

And for the most part, he’s succeeding in his “don’t take this personally” plan.  Sure, it doesn’t feel great that so many people show up, many of whom he recognizes.  There’s people who got caught in the line of fire and some whose cars got smashed or store windows got broken.

But for the most part, Danny’s able to keep his mind off it all.  In part because he’s put himself technically out of the actual event, and in part because he’s thinking more about Sam’s slightly manic energy as they helped put everything up.  This still feels like an aftereffect of the way he found her this morning.  Which just makes it more worrying that he doesn’t know what’s wrong.

He’s interrupted while watching Sam up on the stage, making a speech that, thankfully, he can’t quite hear.

“You are kidding me, right?”

Danny turns to see Jazz standing behind him with her arms crossed.

“Okay look let me explain,” Danny says, holding his hands up.

Jazz turns her head to the sky in exasperation.

“Jazz, seriously,” Danny says.

“Fine,” Jazz says, waving a hand at him.  “I’d love to hear it.”

“I found Sam having some kind of breakdown in the closet this morning,” Danny says, glancing briefly back at her.  “I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t think this is really about me.”

“And that means you have to show up why, exactly?”

Danny crosses his arms.  “I’m worried,” he says.

“You can do that at home.”

“Yeah, okay Jazz, thanks,” he says, glaring at her a little bit.  “I’m just waiting until I can get a chance to ask her what’s wrong.  Then I’ll come home and you can lecture me.”

“Who said I was going to lecture you?” Jazz says.  “You’re free to make your own terrible choices.  Have a great time at the Danny Phantom protest.”

She turns and starts to walk away.

“I’m really not taking it personally,” Danny says before she’s too far away to hear.

Jazz glances back at him again.  She looks him up and down for a couple seconds, obviously scrutinizing, before her glare fades just a little.

“Okay,” she says.  “Good.”  And then she leaves.

Danny sighs and leans back against the cardboard archway, shortly before realizing that’s not a great idea when the flimsy cardboard collapses and he falls on top of it on the ground.

“Cardboard, it’s cardboard,” he mutters to himself as he pushes himself back up, and pulls the arch with him.

“Danny?”

Danny squeezes his eyes shut.  Oh, great.

“Valerie, hey,” he says, turning to face her with the best smile he can muster.  “You here for the protest?”

Valerie, however, has a look of slight disgust on her face, which throws him off guard.

“Uh, no,” Valerie says, which doesn’t help in his confusion.  “Are you?”

“Oh, nah, I’m just helping Sam out,” Danny says with a glance back at the stage that hopefully just screams “casual.”

Valerie steps up next to him, and when Danny looks over he sees her looking at the stage.  He’s not sure how he feels about the look on her face.

Sam screams something about how dangerous Phantom is loud enough for the two of them to hear, and Valerie wrinkles her nose.

“Wow,” she mutters after a second.  “I hope I haven’t ever sounded like that.”

Danny blinks.  “Huh?”

Valerie turns to face him.  “Let’s get out of here,” she says.

“Uh, I was actually waiting to talk to Sam,” Danny says, looking back at the stage.  “She… I don’t think she’s alright.”

“Oh she’s definitely not,” Valerie says.  “Let’s get out of here anyway.”

“What?  I can’t just leave her if I know she’s not okay.”

“Sure you can,” Valerie says.  “She’s been awful to you.  I know that, and I don’t even know everything that’s happened between you guys.  She also hasn’t asked for your help.  You can’t be telling me you want to be here.  You don’t look like you want to be here.”

Danny crosses his arms.  “Of course I don’t want to be here,” he mutters.

“Then let’s go,” Valerie says.  “Come on, I’ve had a date idea I’ve been meaning to take us on for a while.”

Danny hesitates.  He looks up towards the stage one more time.

…He’s not getting Sam’s attention any time soon.  And he can always ask her what was up tomorrow.

Danny takes a deep breath, pushes his guilt to the side, and turns to Valerie.  “Okay,” he says.  “Let’s go.”

…

Valerie takes them both a ways away from the protest before she pulls out her board.  By the time she does, Danny’s been expecting it though, so he puts his bandana and sunglasses on and climbs on behind her.  Then he wraps his arms around her so he doesn’t fly off as she takes off.

He wouldn’t be in any danger if he did fly off, but she doesn’t know that, and that’s not really how he wants her to find out.

Valerie doesn’t go nearly as fast as he can, but she still likes to go fast, and Danny can appreciate the rush of wind in his face as they both head upwards.  For all the problems being half ghosts causes, he’ll never get sick of flying.

They both end up high in the air, high enough that Danny can see the clouds around them.

“Are you nervous being this far up?” Valerie asks as they stop.  “We can go lower if you are.”

Danny shakes his head.  “I trust you,” he says.  It’s only a partial lie.  He knows Valerie won’t let him fall.

Valerie smiles back at him, then hits a button on her board that locks it in place, and sits down, pulling her hood off.  Danny pulls off his bandana and sunglasses and sits down next to her.

“We’re gonna be up here a while,” she says, leaning back on the board.  “For the sunset for me, and then the stars for you.”

Danny grins.  “Awesome,” he says.  He doesn’t have to try too hard to get excitement in his voice.  Even though it may not be his first time stargazing this high up in the air, it never gets old for him.  And doing it with someone is new.  He’s glad it gets to be Valerie.

Valerie grins back at  him, and leans back on her board.  There’s just enough space there for her to lean on her hands, and Danny marvels a minute at how calm she looks.  She doesn’t have any natural abilities to rely on up here.  If something goes wrong with that board, as far as she knows, they’re both in trouble.  He wonders for a minute who she got it from.  She said they were anonymous, but she must trust them for some reason.

“So hey,” Valerie says, bringing an end to his thoughts and drawing his gaze to her.  “Can I ask you something?”

Danny nods.  “Sure.”

“When you talked before about someone who makes you feel like you’re just around to vent to.  Was that Sam?  And the thing she vents about all the time, was that Phantom?”

Danny looks away.  “Uh,” he says, “maybe.”

Valerie doesn’t say anything for a moment.  When she speaks again, it’s definitely not what he expects to hear.

“Danny, why didn’t you tell me to stop talking about Phantom all the time?”

Danny looks over at her in surprise.  “Huh?”

“You had to be sick of it.  And you had to have not wanted to hear me go on about him too.  Tell me to stop, dumbass.  I will.”

“But you were angry about him because he ruined your entire life,” Danny protests.  “It’s not fair of me to ask you to stop talking about all your problems.”

“Danny, that’s like, what our entire relationship is built on.  We don’t ask about things the other person doesn’t want to talk about.  Why shouldn’t that go the other way around too?”

“Because—” Danny starts, but he’s not sure where to go once he does.  Because our not talking about anything made it so I never realized you were the Red Huntress?  Because our not talking about anything means you still don’t know I’m Phantom?  Because maybe sometimes we actually should talk about these things?

“Danny, I don't want you to make yourself miserable for me,” Valerie says.

“I’m not miserable,” Danny mutters.

Valerie snorts.

“Hey!”

“Well, come on.  I’m not blaming myself entirely.  But Danny.”

Danny looks down and starts fidgeting with his hands.  “You weren’t supposed to notice that,” he mutters.

“I like you,” Valerie says.  “We’re dating.  I’m supposed to pay attention, aren’t I?”

Danny doesn’t say anything.

Valerie reaches out and takes one of his hands and squeezes it.  “Hey,” she says.  “Tell me what Sam and Tucker do that bothers you so much.”

“It’s not their fault.”

“Did I ask whose fault it was?”

Danny moves their hands so their fingers are interlaced and looks out at the sky.  Partly because the sun is starting to set, and partly because it’s easier to talk when he’s not looking right at Valerie.

“We’ve been friends since we were little kids,” he says quietly.  “They’re two of my favorite people in the entire world.”

“But?” Valerie prompts.

“I hate being around them now,” Danny says, wiping at his eyes with his free hand.  “It’s never fun.  It never feels like I can just enjoy the time.  Sam is… angry.  Constantly.  And before, she— I mean she’s always been passionate about things, but this feels different.  And Tucker never looks at me anymore.  And he won’t tell me why or what’s wrong.  And every single conversation we ever have is about Phantom.  I mean, can’t they give the guy a break?  He’s not perfect!  And he shouldn’t have to be!  Why does everyone expect him to get everything right all the time?  It’s too much to put on one person— ghost, whatever,” he finishes with a mutter, stopping himself before he says something he shouldn’t.

Valerie’s quiet for a long moment, and Danny looks away and braces himself for some kind of comment about how he has to keep in mind that Phantom is dangerous, and it’s good that Sam and Tucker are wary of him, and god, he wants to go home and sleep.

Instead, however, Valerie turns him back to face her and pulls him into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry, Danny,” she murmurs.

Danny sniffs, and rests his head on her shoulder.  “For what?”

“Making it harder for you,” Valerie says.  “I mean, you still should have asked me to stop.  And I’m not kidding about wanting you to do that from now on.  But I am sorry.”

“You have a reason to be upset,” Danny manages.

“Yeah, I do,” Valerie agrees.  “But there are things I have in my life now that I didn’t have before.”  She squeezes Danny one more time and pulls back, smiling at him.  “I’m closer with my dad now.  And I wouldn’t trade that relationship for anything.  And I’ve got you, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything either.”

“Those didn’t happen because of Phantom,” Danny says weakly.  “You did that.”

“I know,” Valerie says.  “But I’m starting to think… my life doesn’t have to be about him.  I don’t have to define myself based on what happened with Phantom.  And I mean, seeing that protest today, I…” Valerie shakes her head.  “Maybe I’ve been a little hard on him.”

Danny sniffs, and wipes at his eyes again.  “Sorry,” he says before Valerie can say anything.  “I don’t know why I’m crying, ‘s stupid, I—”

“Oh shut up,” Valerie says.  She pulls him back in for another hug, and doesn’t seem to mind when Danny takes the chance to shake in her arms.

“Hey,” she says after a while, and Danny pulls back to see her looking up.  “The stars are out.”

He looks up and sees that she’s right.  He sniffs again and blinks quickly to stop his eyes from blurring.

Valerie wraps her arm around Danny and points up at them with her free hand.  “Which constellations can you find?”

Danny leans his head on her shoulder, and looks to find the stars that are visible.  So high up, there’s less light pollution, and more to see.

“Aquarius,” he croaks, and neither of them mention how terrible his voice sounds.  He points up at the constellation.  “That star there is the supergiant Sadalmelik, and you can follow it down to Sadalsuud.  But you can’t see the whole thing.  We’d have to go further out in the country.”

“Next date, got it,” Valerie says with a smile in her voice.

“And that over there is the square of Pegasus,” Danny says.  Valerie follows his point.  “See it?”

“I think so,” Valerie says.

Danny sniffs one last time and drops his hand.  “Sorry we talked all through the sunset,” he says.

“Oh yeah, I’m real pissed about it,” Valerie says in an obvious tease.  “We have no choice but to do this again so you can make it up to me.”

Danny’s smile fades, and he doesn’t say anything.  Valerie doesn’t say anything else, though, and for a long while they both sit there.

Rather than stargazing, Danny spends it trying to feel better about the decision he’s made.

[redbleedingrose]

I believe that the second Rhys finds out that you are very ticklish, he will at random times of the day just start tickling you.

I’m very sensitive, emotionally and physically, so the second that someone touches a ticklish part of me, I’m reacting so quickly. Hands and legs are being used to defend myself from being tickled.

PLEASE!!! This male is a fucking MENACE!

Rhysand would find out by pure accident. Let's start with the fact that the High Lord of Night has his hands on you at all times.

All times.

I think part of it is that he feels extremely reassured by your presence. Rhys puts on a really good front of being in control, but on the inside, he is stressed. He is scared. He wants to be better. He wants to be the best high lord for his people. Not just the fae of valeris, but the fae of his court... including the fae in Hewn City and Illyria. He wants to be more of a high lord than his father was, and he just struggles in figuring it out.

But when you are with him??? His mate?? His high lady??? He feels in control, on the outside and on the inside. He knows that you are with him, that you are there for him, that you will support him on ideas that sound good, and that you aren't afraid to tell him (in private ofc) when you think he needs to make adjustments to his plans. You are his girl. His wife. You are his partner. He knows that no matter what, you will have his back.

And that?? You???

It gives him everything he needs to be the best high lord he can be.

So yes, he likes to have his hands on you. On the small of your back, resting on the plush of your thigh, pressing at your nails and knuckles with the pads of his fingers, stroking at your palm and the back of your hand, gripping at your hips or waist, fingers running along your spine and up to the back of your neck. It reminds him that you are there. Right by his side. A demanding female who is just as clingy as him, who basks in the raspy praises whispered into your ear, who glows at the peppered kisses smattered on your cheeks. He adores it. He adores you.

Anyway, he is attuned to every part of you, so when he feels the slight shiver you get, the gasp and squeal that has you squirming away when his nails trace the veins on the inner part of your wrist... a kind of thrill runs through him. Cuz now he knows.

His pretty, dreamy, angelic mate is ticklish.

And now???? Now, he is gonna abuse this knowledge to the MAX.

Any time he is bored now, you can guarantee that male is gonna go on the prowl to find you so that he can jump you. If Rhys is bored, you can count on the fact that you will be tossed, either onto the couch or your bed, and pounce on top of you to press his tattooed fingers into your sides. You can't help your reactions of kicking and squirming and cackling.

Any time Rhys needs a pick-me-up, he will scrap his nails along your knee. When your knee jerks in reaction, his entire hand covers your knee cap to prevent it from banging into the top table. And he shines like a burning star, teeth shone with the apples of his cheeks rounding out, when you give him the dirtiest looks of betrayal.

If you are ever grumpy with him, glaring at him with suspicion over the top edge of your book with your legs stretched out and ankles crossed because especially he took his tickling this morning a little too far, resulting in the Illyrian baby gets smacked (lightly of course), the male will give you the biggest puppy dog eyes, the violet hues swimming with a mixture of mischief, hilarity, and pleading, with the cutest of pouts of his pretty lips, pawing at your calves to get you to forgive him.

It takes a little bit of begging on his part, maybe even a good orgasm, to get you to allow him to touch you again. You don't hide your skepticism, though, sneaking furtive glances at the high lord who merely stares back with the illusion of complete innocence.

The scandalized look you send him when he tickles your heels has him rolling on your bed with belly-deep, delighted laughter.

Reader being suspicious of Rhys:

Rhys being the picture of innocence with his honeyed smile:

[elucubrare]

Doctor Valeris gave a quick, cool press of the hand, and gestured me to a chair. “Tell me what happened,” she said, with no further preamble. I closed my eyes — on the insides of my eyelids danced scenes of glory and conquest, as they had for the past three weeks - and tilted my head back. “I’d hired out as a guard to an archaeologist up in the steppes. We spent a week riding around barrows, with nothing more than a couple of wolves to bother us. Then he reread a text or something, and pointed us further north. Have you been up there, doctor? Probably not. It’s so big. The sky, sure, but everything. No trees for a hundred miles, just you and the horse and a few mounds where no one alive has walked for three hundred years, and the wind. I remember there was one tree, though, where it shouldn’t be. It was the tallest thing there, and it felt like a mountain. An oak, tall and straight despite the wind that had scoured anything taller than a barberry bush off the face of the world. The archaeologist bent and scraped some earth off a rock between its roots. He pulled a crowbar off his horse’s equipment and pried it up. ‘After you,’ he said, and I went down. That’s when the ghost entered me.” The doctor nodded. “Let me read the statement back to you. ‘I had been entombed under the strength of oak for centuries. I had begun to fear that I would never again feel a horse surge into a gallop under me, or the wind in my hair; that I had failed the ritual; that the promises of the gods were naught but lies.’” She paused. A muscle in my jaw clenched and then relaxed, but I stayed quiet. “’At last there came a breath of fresh air: a wind from the outside, and with it, a bright spirit. Ah, I thought, the gods spoke true. I am fortunate indeed. She is my kin, and she will serve me well. She is thrice bound to me.’” The doctor waited for a response. “That’s not what I said,” I told her, firmly. “No,” Valeris responded. “But it’s what I heard."

[femmefatalevibe]

What advice/resources would you recommend for someone who is trying to decentralize her life from men (or really anybody other than herself)?

Any books/videos/advice/etc. that you have would be great!

Thanks! Your blog helps me so much xo

Hi love! I'm so glad to hear this <3. Sharing some tips/resources below. Hope this helps xx

How To Decenter Men In Your Life:

Consider the values, goals, and desired lifestyle that feel most authentic to you if social scripts/stigmas didn't apply to you

Take time to become radically honest with your desires as an individual – outside of the perception of men, your family, boss, teachers, peers, etc.

Cultivate a sense of personhood and identity established in your interests, hobbies, skillsets, learning capabilities, creativity, and desire for growth in all aspects of life

Act in your own best interests. Speak up for your needs, and advocate for yourself. Be more "selfish." Don't apologize for what you want and go after it. Act in your own best interests

Become confident in negotiating, assertive communication, and standing on your own two feet. Establish relationships in all aspects that are based on mutual benefit and equitable exchange

Unlearn your self-sacrificing & people-pleasing. Stop shrinking yourself or suppressing your needs to make others feel better or more comfortable

Validate yourself: your needs, desires, goals, dreams, preferences, and opinions. You need to choose yourself every day. Your appeal to others means nothing if you don't like the person you are or are becoming to satisfy the needs or desires of others

Consider the ways you're consciously and subconsciously confining your self-expression and belief system to fit the mold/appease the patriarchy. Actively work to deconstruct this mentality and way of being

Be honest with yourself about how men enrich your life. Not the other way around. Do they fulfill you romantically, sexually, both, or neither? There's no right or wrong answer, except the one that requires you to put on a performance rather than live in alignment with your true self

TikTok Creators:

Melanie Hamlett (LOVE her! My favorite creator/author on this topic.)

Katie Jgin

Soberside

Rose Hackman

Hope Peddler

Therese Lee (@thereselee6)

SpirtualWhistleBlower

Books On Decentering Men:

A Single Revolution by Shani Silver

Patriarchy Stress Disorder: The Invisible Inner Barrier to Women's Happiness and Fulfillment by Valerie Rein, Ph.D

What a Time to Be Alone: The Slumflower's Guide to Why You Are Already Enough by Chidera Eggerue 

All the Single Ladies: Unmarried Women and the Rise of an Independent Nation by Rebecca Traister

Enjoy Your Solo By Mary Delia Allen

How to Be Single and Happy by Jennifer Taitz

Singled Out: How Singles Are Stereotyped, Stigmatized, and Ignored, and Still Live Happily Ever After by Bella DePaulo, Ph.D

On Our Best Behavior: The Seven Deadly Sins and the Price Women Pay to Be Good by Elise Loehnen 

We Are Not Born Submissive: How Patriarchy Shapes Women's Lives by Manon Garcia 

The Seven Necessary Sins for Women and Girls by Mona Eltahawy 

Down Girl: The Logic of Misogyny by Kate Manne

Why Does He Do That?: Inside the Minds of Angry and Controlling  Men by Lundy Bancroft 

Men Who Hate Women: From Incels to Pickup Artists: The Truth about Extreme Misogyny and How it Affects Us All by Laura Bates

Fed Up: Emotional Labor, Women, and the Way Forward by Gemma Hartley  

[storiesofsvu]

Solace in Solitude Ch 7

Eventual Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol, nicotine and weed consumption, mentions of trauma/death, nightmares & anxiety. Yup!! She is back y'all!! Let's just say I got very bored of writing for bingo, things are not very Christmasey around here so I decided to try and finish this entire thing by New Year's. Now, i doubt that'll happen, but i'm still aiming for a chapter per day meaning 4-5 more chapters by NYE which honestly is just under what I have planned for this series. I wanted this one to be better, I can't lie, but in the new year we will move on to a new series and it will be wonderful! Happy Holidays!!

Emily kept her braids in until the next time her hair needed to be washed, if you had said anything she would say it was purely out of convenience and nothing else. But she knew that she actually liked it, she felt as if a new style was something that would help her move on to a new phase of life, not to mention you were a wizard when it came to braiding her slowly growing bangs into the braids and keeping them off her face. A new, different look was her way of leaning into Valerie, making herself more comfortable with the idea of everything and sticking around Paris while she waited for it to all come to an end.

She finally had enough energy to get out of the apartment, making it down the block to the corner store to pick up a few things. You’d been working later and longer hours, mentioning something about picking up a new research project in passing one day (that or you were hiding at the hospital, she wasn’t entirely sure). Thanks to that, things around the apartment had started to get a little on the lacking side when it came to chores. Emily didn’t mind, she spent most of the time in her room anyway and she could always get food delivered. But she did feel a bit bad if she wasn’t contributing at all, especially considering the last time she washed her hair you wordlessly braided it without her even having to ask.

So she’d began using her daily out of the house walks to not only get some more energy and strength back, but to pick up a few things for the apartment. Some days it was food, others coffee and she’d taken up the habit of replacing the flowers in the living room whenever they started to wilt. It was another small change in her routine that was helping her feel more human once again and she was finally starting to get comfortable being outside and not being completely on edge the entire time. She used the time to start upping her profiling skills again, the city streets of Paris the perfect place to grab a cup of coffee and people watch. She didn’t really care if she was correct with her hypothesises, it got her brain working again and she felt bad whenever she caught herself profiling you at home.

That didn’t mean she couldn’t tell that you were getting more tired with each day that went by, mentally drained by living the life you hadn’t chosen. She knew that one all too well at this point. So she did her best to keep the apartment in order without overworking herself and keeping out of your way, which in the long run was benefitting her too.

Currently Emily was out on the balcony, her usual home for the time in the evenings when you overlapped and her second favourite place to people watch from. The sun had already began its decent, the sky painted with colours of teal and purple when she heard the door open and shut inside the apartment. Her eyes flicked to the cigarette in her hand, wondering if she should stub it out before you saw it but figured she was already ratted out by the scent wafting through the air, not to mention the half pack of butts in the ash tray. She took another drag of it, watching a family of three on the street below her, the girl in between her parents, a hand holding each of them as she skipped her way down the sidewalk and her lips curved up into a brief grin. The thought of setting out on a nice family adventure on a Friday night, her imagination took hold, ideas flowing through her brain about the multitude of places they could be headed.

She was broken out of the daydream by the sound of you quite literally kicking off your shoes and throwing your bag into your room. The tell tale sign of what she first thought was the fridge opening, the sound of ice cubes being dumped into a glass proving her wrong, that you’d gone for the freezer instead, the glug of the high end bourbon you’d stashed in the pantry flowing into her ears next. She thought the next sound would be the closing of your bedroom door as you disappeared for the night and nearly jumped when you stepped out onto the balcony beside her, swiping the back of cigarettes from the small table. It happened so fast she couldn’t even let out a noise of objection before you spoke, snagging the lit cigarette from practically between her lips.

“Give me that.” You muttered.

“I- hey!” She groaned, her brow furrowing when she looked up at you to find you using her smoke to light your own, the pack already back on the table.

Before she could fully process what was going on her cigarette was back between her fingers and you were dropping into the empty chair, a heavy sigh escaping your lips as you sunk even deeper into it. She let silence overtake the balcony so you could use the time to decompress, shift from your doctor self into your home self and no doubt relax a little bit. She finished her smoke, stubbing it out in the ash tray not long after you’d lit yours. She debated going back inside but felt like her skin was still itching, desperate for more nicotine so without even glancing in your direction she picked up the pack, pulling the lighter from her pocket to light a second one while she prepared for the nagging she was about to receive. Instead you simply took another drag, shoulders sagging as smoke slipped from your lips into the cooling night air.

“Nothing, really?” She couldn’t help herself, nearly laughing as she pocketed the lighter, “I thought you of all people would be coming out here to lecture me about the dangers of smoking.”

You let out a scoff of a laugh, “it’s fucking France, everyone smokes.” Your eyes flicked down to the ash tray and your lips curved into a frown, “I won’t lecture you but you might wanna slow down on how many you have per day.”

“Not exactly like I have much else to do.”

“Yeah well, find a hobby or something.” You took another drag, “there’s a bakery two streets over with the best stuff in the city. You could make your walks longer.”

“Hmm.” Emily replied, the acknowledgement that she had been leaving the house and helping out was all either of you needed to discuss on the matter. You weren’t in the mood to be the rule maker right now, that was very clear.

Silence took over the balcony once more and as much as she didn’t mean to, Emily’s eyes flickered over to you, examining your body language, her profiler gears turning. You looked even more mentally tired than you had the last time she’d seen you, not that there were bags under your eyes, but the look of utmost defeat within them. You sunk down so deep into the chair, pulling your legs up into it, curling around yourself as if to protect yourself from the outside world. Your gaze lingered on the skyline, not daring to dart down to the street where people occasionally milled below and every drag of the cigarette between your fingers was long, deep, like someone who desperately needed a more intense vice they hadn’t indulged in in years.

“Rough day?” She finally asked, her voice soft, quiet enough you could ignore it if you wanted to.

“Yeah.” You replied, flicking the ash off your smoke while you glanced down, sighing heavily. “Lost a patient.” Emily watched as your staring contest with the sky ended and your eyes flitted through the street beneath you, “little girl, couldn’t have been more than eight. Came in ‘cause she fell off her bike, complaining of arm pain, admitting doctor said she was wearing a helmet and the initial exam was clear. She was alert, talkative, just the cutest fucking thing, reminded me a lot of my sister at that age. We figured it was a broken arm and were waiting for the x-ray line up to clear up to confirm.” You took a heavy breath, a long drag of your smoke and Emily knew the twist was coming, “turned out the Dad was lying to Mom about the helmet, he didn’t want to get in trouble for not enforcing the rules, thought it didn’t matter that the poor girl bonked her head. We didn’t catch the brain bleed in time…” You trailed off, your eyes glassy as they returned to the sky.

“I’m so sorry…” Emily whispered and you shook your head,

“A family doesn’t come back from that. Guilt’ll eat you alive, Mom’ll likely never forgive Dad, he’ll go insane trying to right a wrong he can’t fix.”

“Can only hope he takes it out on himself and not someone else.” She muttered, shaking her own head and she instantly felt your eyes on her.

“You see a lot of that in your line of work?”

“Unfortunately, yeah.” She sighed, “something like today would be a stressor, it builds up higher and higher, fucks with your brain until you can’t take it anymore and it just sparks an explosion. He’s never gonna be able to look at another little girl on a bike again. He’ll see parents who let their kids ride without helmets as unfit, villains, could start lashing out towards them, likely verbally at first before a trigger hits. Could be divorce papers, could be the family ostracizing him, one month, six month, one year anniversary of her death, then he loses it…”

“Mmm.” In any other situation you would have been impressed by the way her brain worked, but right now all you were consumed by was grief, a weak laugh escaping through your lips as you should your head, “god we’re depressing.”

“At least you don’t have to sleep during the day.” She muttered and you let out a small laugh.

“We can adjust your meds again.” You replied before you glanced down to your smoke, your head titling before you looked up at Emily, “though there is something else we haven’t tried…. I mean, we’re already smoking.”

It took a moment for the realization to wash over her, her eyes widening when she realized what you were talking about, “is that legal here?” She whipped her phone out, hastily typing before she nearly shot you a glare, “no! It is not.”

“Oh don’t be a fucking narc,” you rolled your eyes, your voice quieting to not be overheard, “you’re not a fucking fed right now, and it’s fine if it’s medical.”

“That’s gotta be some kind of illegal abuse of your medical licence.”

“Yeah well… I wasn’t the one who shot some guy’s ear off for a threat.” You deadpanned and Emily choked on her words, grimacing as she settled back in her chair instead of trying to stop you as you stood, “a couple of puffs now, we’ll eat a late dinner, finish the joint and go to bed. If it helps you sleep, I’ll get you a prescription.”

“Fine.” She grumbled, willing to try anything at this point to get her back to a normal schedule, knowing that one day she was going to have to work through the day and sleep through the night again. She couldn’t keep this up forever.

*

You’d been the first to tap out, the exhaustion of a full work day on top of the glass of bourbon and weed, once your stomach was full, you were down for the count, saying goodnight and quickly heading to your bedroom. Emily felt fine, a little cloudy but relaxed, comforted almost and she knew it was probably not the greatest idea but she sipped on a glass of wine after you went to bed, feeling the night sink into the city. She thought nothing of it as she went through her normal nighttime routine, even though it was hours earlier, her eyes were drooping, it was at least time for a nap. She locked the balcony door behind her, washed the couple of dishes in the sink, filled up a glass of water and made sure the alarm was set. She washed her face, brushed her teeth and took whatever meds she normally did before bed and curled up under the blankets, letting out a soft sigh as she did so, sleep taking over much quicker than normal.

The major conflict being that Emily’s body was used to the new sleep schedule she’d implemented, the one that started at dawn and went ‘til dusk. Meaning it had been roughly twelve hours, not twenty four since she’d last taken her meds and even with the added weed, she’d only been awake four hours by the time you got home, there was no way it was actually bedtime for her. She could practically feel herself tossing and turning, her mind racing as images began to plague her dreams.

Though this time it wasn’t just Ian, they were at the villa, there was a weird haze over the entire thing but she was playing with Declan, wide smile on her face as he laughed while she chased him around. At first she looked like Lauren; Declan was as small as she remembered until Ian showed up and a darkness enveloped the room. She could feel her heart pounding, a gasp escaping her lips as she frantically looked around for the boy who was suddenly nowhere to be seen. Unlike the last nightmare this time it was as if she was having an out of body experience, watching the entire thing like it was a movie. She watched the fear spread across her own face as her hair darkened, became straighter, bruises started to purple up on her skin as Ian laughed at her.

“You’ll never find him. You’ll never be able to protect him.” He jeered, “he’s my boy after all. You gave up that chance, didn’t you?”

Blood started to stain her shirt, forming a circle on her lower abdomen before she let out a groan, hands shooting to the wound, trying to hold it together as red streaks began to drip down her clothing. She couldn’t help but collapse to her knees, choking on her own breath as she tried to speak, desperate to find the boy before he did.

“Declan….” She cried out.

Instead of his perfect blue eyes popping up from behind the couch, Ian’s hand wrapped around her throat, forcing her face up to his.

“He is my son.” He spat, “and nothing, not even you, will keep me from him.”

“Please!”

“Em!” A voice rang out, a hand closed around her shoulder and she could see it, the bodyless limb in her nightmare as she continued to sob. She felt like she was going to throw up, “Emily!” It repeated, this time louder, “hey! Wake up!” Her vision began to spin, blurring as the scene in front of her slowly vanished and suddenly she was jolted into her Parisian bedroom, the nightstand light on, casting a glow though the room and she realized it was your voice that was soothing her. “Hey… I’m here.. it’s okay.” You assured her, watching the way she slowly blinked to life, her chest heaving as her eyes darted around the room and she instantly shot up, shuffling back on the bed as if she was about to be hit.

“I-“ she struggled to find the words, her eyes flicking from each spot of the room that was a little too dark for comfort to the window, making sure it was shut before she felt your hand on hers, your thumb soothing across the back of it.

“You’re okay.” You repeated, “he doesn’t know where you are. You’re safe, I promise.”

She took a moment, calming her heavy breaths, not even bothering to wipe the tears away as she fought against every instinct in her to run out of the room right then. Grounding herself by the warmth of your hand on hers, the weight of your body next to her on the bed, knowing that this was reality, not the scene in her head moments prior. Once you could tell she was back on earth your free hand reached out to the nightstand, flicking through her pill bottles until you found the anti anxiety, twisting it open to hand her one.

“Here.” She took it from you, popping it under her tongue and waiting for it to dissolve. “You’ll feel better in a bit, get some rest.” You began to shift from the bed, knowing how much she hated when you even attempted to coddle her and she let out an uncharacteristic whimper, her hand instantly tightening in yours.

“Wait!” You were halfway standing when you turned back to her, frowning at the tears blurring in her eyes, “stay… please? Just for now.”

“Okay.” You shot her a weak smile, shifting back onto the bed, your heart sinking at the way the tears were still leaking over her cheeks, the way her body would occasionally shake in fear. Whatever tonight’s nightmare had been about was clearly affecting her more than the last one. You adjusted the blankets, making sure they were wrapped around her, and covering you enough you wouldn’t get cold and you were taken aback at the way she nearly collapsed against you, holding onto you as if you were the only thing keeping her from slipping back into another nightmare. “Hey…” you squeezed at her softly, “talk to me… please.”

“Thought you weren’t a shrink.” She bit back and you let out a huff.

“I know the basics, and you need to talk. You need someone right now and I’m the one that’s here, so let me be what you need, even if you hate it.” You felt the vibration of her grumble against you, your free hand soothing up and down her back, “wanna maybe start with who Declan is?”

Emily tensed in your arms, unaware that you’d heard that much, wondering just how much she was willing to share tonight before she let out a shuddering breath, “Doyle’s son.”

“Just… his…?” You asked cautiously and she let out another wavery huff.

“Yes.” Her hand reached up to wipe away a stray tear, “my job was to seduce him, but I mean, I was careful. I even slept with him and I don’t do that.”

“Well even I know sleeping with an international terrorist isn’t likely a good idea.” You muttered back.

“I meant men.” She replied and you almost stiffened beside her.

“Oh…”

Silence filled the room once again as she continued to try to calm her thudding heart, the medicine you’d given her slowly coursing through her veins.

“My job was to keep Declan safe, even afterwards. That’s why I moved to D.C, not because of the BAU, but because it was close to him. I thought I was safe for so long after Doyle was arrested, that things were fine, that he’d never find us again but I was wrong. If he managed to break out of prison, find me and completely destroy me… again… what’s stopping him now?” She took a shuddering breath and your arms tightened around her.

“He thinks you’re dead.” You whispered softly, “even if he hacks into Boston hospital records, that’s what he’ll find.”

“I just want to feel safe.” She sniffled again and you held back the instinct to wipe the new tear away, not wanting to end this chapter of her feeling comfortable talking to you, feeling vulnerable with you. “I knew he wanted to kill me, that he wanted me dead and I had the upper hand and didn’t take it. I died.  I actually died in the ambulance and all I felt was… cold.. and darkness… that can’t be it.” Her hand clutched at your shirt again, “that can’t be the end…”

“It wasn’t.” You assured her softy, your hand slowly rubbing up and down her back, “and it won’t be. You deserve so much more than that, okay?”

“I just want to forget him.”

“I know.”

________________

@daddy-heather-dunbar @mandy-asimp @leftoverenvy @dextur @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @its-soph-xx @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @s1ut4nat @scorpsik @happenstnces @sapphicprentiss @geekyandgay98 @pagetboobstarcomments @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @theclassicgaycousin @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @niyizh @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @romanoffsho @ratsnestinmyhair @assgardangod @originalbrunettecharacter @hopedoesntknow @dj-bynum3718 @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @nachofriess @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx

[awhalesrider]

Where Did You Sleep Last Night

A translation to my old fanfic on AO3. Apologies in advance for some clumsy wording and bugs in timeline.

Pairing: Johnny Silverhand/Female V (Valerie)

Chapter Summary: V had a bad birthday, and Johnny offered some sleep aid.

Additional tags: During canon, Pre Pistis-sophia, Soft Johnny

Getting a room is usually for a wild night.

That's true.

They rarely slept outside because it wasn't worth it - he spent too little time understanding a merc's lifestyle in the 70s. V was kicking around like a puppy. With those few eddies earned, she could barely afford a full meal and throw a few chromes on her body. It's kinda dumb for a merc worrying about the next meal and the next day to pay for someone else's bed. According to V, she’d rather get a good fuck. The only reason why they spent money on this shabby hotel for the first time was because of the thunderstorm, heavy as shit.

Johnny Silverhand stepped on V's wet footprints and stood behind her. He looked inside. The birthday suite was just as bad as he imagined. A sour smell mixed with the moisture of rain rolled out as soon as the door was opened. The air rushed straight to their head. There are generally only two possibilities for this situation - either time has rotted inside like a corpse, or there really was a corpse. Either way, it's all fucked up.

V stood at the door for a long time. "'kay..." She grabbed her half-wet hair, trying not to show her disgust too obviously. But Johnny could easily sense the resistance from the instinctive reaction of her throat and nose. She took a long breath: "Not that bad, right?"

Not that bad, you serious? Johnny had to admit that V got talents in self-persuasion. But they would have to continue to fight against her senses. Preem for both of them.

Unfortunately he's not the one in charge.

"C'mon, Johnny." She said, more like trying to convince herself than trying to convince him. The high frequency of self-talking always seemed to make her feel better.

"Let's see what we have here."

The door slid shut behind her. V found the switch with a few coughs. The light, however, only made the abstract badness a little more realistic. Prolly this is the characteristic of a roadside love hotel - kinda arrogant frugality: tattered curtains, dirty carpets, old toys, and super dream equipment on the table as if the cleaners quit after washing the sheets without taking those leftover gifts (mainly used syringes and condoms) in the corner for the next guests.

"Gonk's gettin five-star service. " Johnny decided to remind her of another option at the right time, "Another lesson for our merc."

V sighed, "Know what? Whatever you gotta say – say it."

"Never heard the old saying? East or west, home is the best."

"No, no...Johnny. It's raining like shit outside. And didn't I tell you cops are locking down Watson? Maxtac is prolly having a party there too." V gave a bunch of good reasons, though she was obviously frustrated about it, and she should be,'cause no one would get themselves in a stinky room on a night like this - well, maybe he would fifty years back. But she's not him, and she didn't want to be him.

"Well, then, got two lucky misters spending the night with ya." He pointed to the two dildos on the table that were performing a fencing match.

"Haha, very funny." V laughed dryly and took them away. She flipped him a finger and Johnny returned it back. She ignored him and opened the window.It was raining just right. V threw the two outside onto the awning to shower.

Johnny smiled. She was always very creative when it came to little revenge on nobody. The rain soaked into their palms. V turned around, taking a moment to wash away those flowers of blood, and she began kicking the garbage into a corner where she couldn't see it.

Poor girl, being angry for only two seconds, was now busy cleaning up the mess without getting paid. Should've spent the time roasting some brains of NCPD who blocked her way.

Johnny leaned against the wall.

Never thought brain-dead made mercs rush for biz at a loss.

Johnny came up with some jokes at this moment, like "somebody deserved a wanted poster hanging on her neck with what she's done, and now she's trying to be a law-abiding citizen". But V was a little too quiet as she walked around the room, not even commenting on the endless complaints in her head and yelling "Johnny you are not helping".

He got a bad feeling.

V kept the window open, making the smell in the room less unpleasant, but the strong wind, thunder, and wetness made them feel as if they had just moved to a different place to get caught in the rain. V tried to pretend that she did this on purpose, but their sensory pathways were exposing the truth: She had a loss of sensation in her lower limbs for a while, and she could not manage to stand up on her own.

This is no good. Johnny thought. The biochip was taking advantage of her injury, forcing her to retreat. But he could do nothing about it except watch the effect of the combat stimulant fade in her body.

V took off her jacket, and then the coat with blood spots. She put them on the bed sheet, and then the smell of blood temporarily covered the smell of old bedding. She sniffed, put her gun next to the pillow, and slowly lay down. Merc fumbled in her waist bag for a bottle, impatiently letting the alcohol pour rudely into her torn wound. Johnny saw the dark sweat marks on her close-fitting vest blurred into large patches, and the pain was vividly soaking her again. And V just lay there quietly, holding her arms tightly, waiting for this torture.

She was too tired to sustain any confrontational behavior, which was not good in any sense. Johnny dropped his previous attitude.

"V." He sat in the chair next to her, staring at her tense shoulders, "Can't sleep like this."

"Shut the fuck up, old man." She turned towards him. The words from her mouth seemed damp, wearily sticking in the air. Johnny noticed that the bullet pendant was sliding down her wet chest. V didn't look at him, as if she couldn't lift her eyelids at all. She was just clenching her teeth, insisting on digesting the painful groan. She shrank to the corner of the bed, with her shoulders trembling in the cold air, avoiding the radiation of the "flash bomb" that enveloped the entire city.

"Just… Stop talkin' for now, okay?" She tried to steady herself by holding the pendant, with her voice barely audible in the rain. "Need to meet the VDBs in Pacifica tomorrow... and I'm really tired."

Alright. Johnny stood up and walked away a little, hoping that she was not tired of living.

The windowpanes were clanging in the wind, and he watched V close her eyes in the noise and pray to get accepted in dreams. Fate is not such a cruel bitch if V could get what she wanted. Unfortunately, life is always hard, and most people in this city can't afford the ticket to a sweet dream. Only death has a kind heart not to turn people away.

Her eyelids twitched. The intense pain began to peel away from her body, getting replaced by waves of neuralgia, which was not life-threatening but still a continuous torture. The disrupted cognitive system made her fall into a trance similar to a hangover. Merc was still far from her dreams, but she was already having nightmares. Some noise was running wild in her blood. The strong wind blew into her brain, blowing into a mess of thoughts, some of which came from his memory fragments, but more of them were the bloody parts of her own story.

Fuck. The sting in his chest grew stronger, but he wasn't sure if it was her feeling it.

V suddenly opened her eyes, with her forehead covered with sweat. Her wet red hair was stuck to her temples.

"... Johnny." She spoke in a low voice.

 See? Here's who shut his mouth just now.

"Johnny?" But she called him again, as if she hadn't heard his thoughts, or felt in need of more response. Kinda disturbing, that, like a string of trills hanging alone on a music sheet.

"What? Need a napkin to draw unicorns, Matilda?"

"Kiss my ass." Said V, searching him with her eyes. Preem, at least she had regained the energy to curse. He met her gaze and felt a little ease of the dull and heavy pain in her chest.

"By the way, I'm Leon when it comes to professionalism."

Johnny raised an eyebrow with a little surprise. The film was half a century older than she was, but she knew what he was talking about. Maybe she was good at appreciating antiques.

"What now?" He asked, as a reward, "Our cold-blooded killer needs a bedtime story?"

He expected V to say something more, but she didn't.

"…Yeah, I guess." She just nodded and turned over, as if she's tapped out after trying to maneuver on the tattered sheets.

"Let's talk." She looked at him and continued to persuade him, "Do me a favor. Today's my birthday. It's now or never."

They both sadly realized that the joke was likely to become a reality, but she was still like any girl in 2020 who's a little off her rocker, except not that empty and fanatical, but still treating him as a confession window in the church. People would fill the desperate indifference with burning fuel.

Maybe she should really join the Animals if they would still like a rain-soaked puppy after seeing her sober self.

"Fine." Johnny compromised too quickly, and as he sat close to her, he began to strongly suspect that this was some scam created by the mental link between them. "'bout what?"

He felt strange after a second. Dumb questions. They were inseparable for 24 hours every day, and their brains were so small that their souls would collide with each other at any time, just like when he knocked her to the ground when they first met, she pointed at his nose and called him a dickwipe the next day. People always have noise in their heads. They should have talked a long time ago. In fact, they did: about Arasaka, Mikoshi, Soulkiller, and how to save her life.

"Anything. Just...don't be quiet." V narrowed her eyes. The lightning left a bleak white mark on her face, and she spoke again amid the chaotic thunder.

"...I...dunno, Johnny. I'm scared… for a little. " She smiled. The curve of her lips turned into a heavy expression. But it's unlike the kind she was good at expressing or he was used to dealing with. The smile was almost unattractive, but he suddenly felt that he had encountered a huge problem.

Johnny fell into a rare moment of silence.

"Of what?" He sat down and asked in a low voice, "Thunder?"

"Ugh, fuck off."

The joke was inappropriate, but it worked, obviously making her a little happier. "Think I'm a baby girl crying for her mother?"

Johnny snorted, "Whatever you say."

How old was she? Not even thirty. Many people in Night City didn't live to that age. He didn't deny that if anyone told his story, thirty might be considered his "old age". But she was still a girl, a stupid little thief who hadn't seen much of the world. Not old enough to die anyway.

"Okay." V ended the topic resignedly with a strange expression on her face, as if not knowing whether to cry or laugh with the fact in their head.

The rain made a series of sounds on the iron sheet outside the window, and she immediately wanted to break away from the silence in the room.

"…Wanna guess why I can't sleep?"

Johnny looked up at V's pale face, still unsure whether he should be her doctor.

"Too busy in your head?"

"Didn't even think about it seriously, did you?" she questioned like she was complaining, but her voice seemed to have reached the edge of blurred consciousness, with sleep or death on the other side.

"Same at first." She took a breath and finished her sentence. "Y'know, seeing your past all the time... Not the 'fuckin' something up' part. I mean, sex, gigs, radio-hacking..."

"Havin' fun, huh?"

"Hah, it's a mess. Bright light, loud music...gets me all dizzy, and... When I opened my eyes, cops were chasing me for blocks. My brains were 'bout to be shaken out." She released the hand that was tucked in front of her chest from the pendant and stretched it towards the direction where he was sitting. "But it's not bad... It's crazy but... alive. So... not exactly what kills my sleep."

Johnny sat near her without a word, waiting for her to explain.

"Don't wanna fall asleep," she said slowly, "cuz I'm afraid that...I won't wake up again."

"…"

V raised her eyelids and stared at his chair in a daze, then looked at him again. The scene of rain and fog outside the window appeared in her eyes.

Okay, merc's really going to give him a hard time. Her face and her thoughts got him amused but worried. Johnny found that V always confused him, even though he knew her thoughts better than anyone else. What? You are worried about your life every day, and you have been busy for a long time just to get rid of this fucking chip in your head. And now you are treating the time bomb as your guardian angel?

"Feel like dyin' when I fall asleep, Johnny." Her fingertips drew helpless swirls on the bed sheet, obviously not sober enough to answer his question, "A few days ago... I mean when I could still get some sleep, I thought I wasn't afraid of this... and anything. When Dex DeShawn asked me if I wanted to die at the age of thirty or get old in bed, I thought it was only about where to close my eyes. But I ..."

V closed his eyes again.

Building. Thunderstorm. Fall. Delamain. Smell of blood. Sad eyes. Bullet in the skull.

The dream screamed past his eyes. Johnny heard her spirit trembling as if she would collapse at any time due to info overload, which was a hundred times more painful than lying on the operating table without anesthesia.

"...Always dream about that day in the car... Every time I thought Jackie's just... falling asleep... Dunno how he felt at that time. Is it the same as I am... or you were...?" Her whole body was tense, and her breathing became disordered. "Pain, cold, nausea, like a nightmare, right?"

"So I was wondering... I was wondering why can't I just go flatline?"

The thunder almost shattered her words.

Johnny looked down to the floor, wondering if V noticed that she sounded like sobbing, though she wasn't. That's so not V, 'cause she was the kind of tough, sharp, brave, and capable person who was liked by everyone - of course they liked her. And she was the kind of fool that fixers favored, the kind of friend that edge runners loved, a kind of brave coward who forgot how seriously she took death. She's willing to eat the blood on the tip of a knife as long as she is given enough eddies or a true heart.

"…It's not that simple." He had no choice but to say this first, but he still didn't have much of a clue.

"Huh?"

"Been dead for fifty years, 'course I know more."

"But now I'm the one with only a few days left。" She pointed out.

The pain then hit him, much more severe than he expected. It was spreading to her limbs and organs and almost everywhere. Johnny couldn't even tell which part he was responsible for. He didn't like it, and he didn't like her saying so, because it reminded him that it was him killing her for all times, even today.

Johnny walked to the window, lit a cigarette, and heard the countdown ticking in her mind. Prolly this was why she didn't want him quiet. It was rare that they didn't break out into an argument, but still, they fell into silence with confrontation.

V had every reason to want an end. After all, she had come this far.

But she has survived until now. He always thought she was the type who liked to risk her life, taking jobs without careful consideration, and going through fire and water for everyone who regarded her as a friend. And now she wanted to dig a grave for herself in advance? This is not V.

Or maybe this is her?

Johnny let out a long exhale. The smoke and rain slowly mixed together, and he tried to calm himself down.

"…Emptiness." He told her.

"What?"

"Feeling of death." He turned around, putting the sentences together in the severe pain flowing through him, "Thought it was a stupid BD playin' for 24 hours? That's too fucking silly. You'll understand when you've been dead for a while... No sound, no perception, nowhere to rest for your consciousness. Last bit of existence's been taken away, like a fuckin broken plastic bag flying everywhere, and no one will give a fuck to ya."

V's eyes rested on him quietly: "…What are you tryin' to tell me?"

"I'm telling you getting some fuckin' sleep is never the same as dying."

The chair legs made a sharp sound on the floor, and he sat down in front of her again.

"... and stop thinkin' 'bout putting that bullet back in your brain. It's not any better than you are now."

Johnny leaned back in his chair and realized what he just said was a pure mistake, as if he was comforting a frightened child from a nightmare. Sounded like something that would be filmed in an animation half a century ago, the kind of unrealistic fairytale. But he was completely involved in her feelings and emotions. Nicotine was not enough to relieve his anxiety. Johnny continued to be annoyed that he had no right to accuse her of a bunch of depressing words, and he couldn't help wanting to finish what he said.

"Listen, V." He pinched her chin with his hand, forcing her to look at him more closely, but it seemed more like he was trying to pull her out of the suffocating fear. "Havin' your nightmares means you are still alive. We have a chance to think about how to be buried in the future. You hear me?"

V also stared at him, holding his wrist tightly and breathing rapidly. Her lips tightly pursed: "Sounds more like telling me not to be afraid of dying?"

"I'm telling you not to be afraid to live, V." Johnny let go of his hand and stood up, feeling his thumb brushed by warm rain.

"…and then get some ideas of makin' your days less fucked up next year."

He threw the cigarette on the ground and extinguished it, and the spark jumped into her eyes. V looked at him, and her cheeks finally turned red again because of her attempt to disengage herself. After a long silence, she finally smiled, but also really shed tears.

The sound of rain outside the window gradually weakened. It took a long time for V to speak this time.

"…Without you." She said with her voice hoarse.

It seemed that she finally remembered the solution they had agreed on at the beginning. Johnny was not sure whether he heard more certainty or more regret, but weaving a dead person into the story was a good sign for a dream anyway. This was exactly her current symptom.

Her breath was no longer so heavy, and Johnny could feel that the tingling in her nerves was gradually leaving. The dark water stains on her chest had not yet dried up, and were illuminated by the dazzling white light into a shining river, flowing slowly with her breathing.

Are you asleep, V?  He asked, never needing to speak but intending to reach out anyway.

Thunder exploded again not far from them, but this time V was not awakened. She lay quietly, holding the bullet in her chest with her fingers, and seemed to fall into an eternal sleep.

He had to admit that he was a little scared now.

As if by magic, his fingers reached behind her ear.

Her pulse beat beneath her warm skin. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"…G' night, Johnny." V said, exhausted, but alive. She smiled for the first time today. Her red hair fell down in a relaxed manner, like a cluster of flames pouring down on him in the whistling wind, and his chrome hand that had felt the heat of countless explosions was withdrawn as if it was burned. Johnny heard her sigh softly, like blowing out a candle.

The electronic projection of him dissipated, like a light smoke.

[gaslightgatekeepgirlbosscombat]

Group C, Round 4, Poll 1:

Propaganda under the cut

Dahlia Hawthorne

she lived. faked her own kidnapping and killed multiple people in unrelated situations. was executed. got her spirit channelled. tried to kill even more people as revenge

Girlypop has done a shit ton of manipulation, committed at least four murders (even one from the grave!) A man’s eaten glass for her, another’s knowingly drank poison. She also puts on the “Weak little girl” act to get away with it all

she is literally THE gaslight gatekeep girlbosser ever. don't wanna spoil anything but like. she is the definition of the words,

At 14, Dahlia arranged a staged kidnapping (in order to attain a Very High ransom from her wealthy father) with a guy she'd seduced, her stepsister Valerie, and her twin sister Iris (who chickened out) that purposefully landed the guy in jail for her supposed murder. Five years later, the guy broke out of jail and Dahlia framed him for the murder of Valerie (which she committed) and when this truth was exposed in court, the guy killed himself rather than break the promise they'd made to believe in each other no matter what. A few months later, she poisoned one of the attorneys involved in that case (putting him into a years-long coma instead of killing him) and got away with it by planting the evidence on a guy she just met by convincing him she'd fallen in love with him at first sight. She then guilted Iris into pretending to be her while dating the guy for the next several months, which culminated in her attempting to murder him, only to then try to frame him for the murder of one of her exes instead (which she also committed). She didn't get away with this one because superior girlboss (her cousin Mia) exposed her plot and Dahlia was executed for it a few years later, but she continued to GGG from beyond the grave. While she was still alive, Dahlia and her also-incarcerated but not on death row mother planned to murder the head of their clan (Maya, the younger sister of Mia) so that Dahlia's younger half sister (Pearl) could take Maya's place as head of their clan; Dahlia was also doing this because in the interim, Mia had been murdered by someone else, and Dahlia decided the best way to get revenge on her after her death was to kill the person she loved most. The mother and daughter schemed to write to Pearl (who was only about 9 at the time) and convinced her to channel Dahlia after her execution without telling her why (their family has the ability to channel the spirits of the dead, and they cannot remember what their bodies do during the time they're possessed) so that Dahlia could use her little sister's body to kill the head of the family, who Pearl loved very much. They also guilted Iris into working with them on this. The attempt failed because she girlbossed too close to the sun (a combination of her still-living ex, Maya, the channeled Mia, and the now-awake guy she'd poisoned) but she still GGG-ed all her life and even into her death (she also managed to get Mia & Maya's mom killed in the process and the coma guy (who Mia was in love with) convicted for it, but Maya lived so ultimately a failure). Throughout all this, she gives off an air of innocence and kindness and naivete, wearing white, high femme clothes, convincing the men inside and outside of the legal courts that she couldn't possibly do anything because she's just a sweet little girl. I fucking hate her <3 the vibes are both rancid and terrifying

Vriska Serket

It’s Vriska baby!

it's vriska

not only manipulates people the traditional way but also literally has mind control powers.

she manipulates her disabled friend constantly and is the reason why hes disabled in the first place. she is constantly telling lies and half truths to make sure she has all the cards in every possible situation. she does basically everything by herself and turns on others if they dont follow her lead and dies multiple times in her struggle for the spotlight, her one true goal. she has an eyepatch and a robot arm. she gets all the women. ALL OF THEM!!!!!!!!

shes girlbosses her way into SOOOOOOOO MANY other competitions AND WON!!!!!!!! and like okay yea, she mostly won bc some of them were rigged but also shes just like that lol shes got a whole lotta lucky 8r8ks >:::;)

[igglemouse]

Monday morning starts shitty because it starts with my shitty breakfast. Yogurt. Which is fine, really, but in the end it's just mush with flavor, isn't it?

Flavorful mush. Sorry for the language, I really am, but there just isn't much going on over here. I feel bad for inviting you into my life.

I don't want this to always be about how crappy my life is because that's not fun but...my life does suck? You'd think someone with magical abilities would have a few more adventures to talk about but as I've mentioned, I'm pretty much banned from practicing my magic thanks to my parents which leaves me almost completely alone. Almost.

I spend a morning or two in my shower contemplating my loneliness. It helps. I think.

I'm not going to just sit at home and mope all day although I guess I could. Whose stopping me?

Either way, I pull myself outside and back to the buffs, the shore of the buffs at least, and just enjoy a mildly chilly day.

My friend texts me, wondering if I want to meet up and I let her know sure but later because I do have a few things I want to get done...

Which is more collecting. Oh? You thought it would be something interesting?

So off I go...collecting metals, herbs, fruits, whatever. You never know when you might need something for a spell. I think?

I want to teach myself. I'm not allowed to be taught in the realm but no one is stopping me from teaching myself and my standards are not high. I'd be content with just a minor spell to tie my shoes, to be honest. Just anything to remind me of my heritage.

But I did not come to the bluffs just to collect rocks and plants...

Once again I was drawn to the castle of Chevalier but this time I had gathered the courage to enter, or rather, something had invited me inside. After all, the gate to the wide double was left open, daring curious visitors like myself.

The doors were unlocked, in fact, a gentle nudge welcomed me into its walls and a few more steps had me deep into what I could assume was a foyer of sorts.

If this is a place long abandoned then I must wonder why its candles are lit and why its floors are clean and yet if someone lives here why would they leave the doors unlocked? Either way, the warm glow of candlelight is appreciated although it's clear to me that someone lives here. Perhaps they are not here right now? On vacation?

My curiosity pushes me forward, deeper and deeper into the castle, moving as softly as possible because with every passing second I realize that I am trespassing. Some flittering thought through my mind, a warning really, nagging at me to turn around, to go home, there is nothing to be found here but trouble and danger and yet I push on.

Into a room, down a ladder, and into a larger chamber. The castle is cleaned here too. Not a speck of dust or a smudge of dirt. Whoever lives here or maintains this place must have an entire team of maids.

I'm eager to learn more and I am just as eager, for whatever reason, to meet the owner of this place...

But as I take another step into this peculiar estate another warning flashes through my head. Except this time the voice doesn't belong to me, that I am sure, and its message is clear.

"Leave."

Message sent, message received. I'm out of here.

So it was back home for me which meant back to my jewelry. There is a such thing as too much adventure after all.

For today I'm working on a bracelet and hoping to sell it because I do need the simoleons. I really, REALLY, need the simoleons.

Eventually I finish a rather poorly made bracelet and before I can despair about my pitiful situation my friend stops by.

Triple V, is what I call her, and that stands for Valerie Van Villet.

Valerie and I have a lot of common as we've grown up together and she's basically my best friend but our shared destiny is because her parents also practiced the dark arts which of course means she's also been expelled from the realm.

Usually, we don't talk about magic, but the topic of the castle has popped up since I could not help but mention my little exploration trip.

"What do you think's there?" I ask her because she knows a lot more about this stuff than I do. She has taught herself well, she's no master, of course, but she knows a few spells. All self-taught.

"Definitely a vampire," she is sure, as if it was is as obvious as 1+1=2. "Nosferatu, as they are called."

"Here?" My question is because it is well known that vampires are close to extinct. That's another story for another day. Maybe. "In such a castle-"

"It's Cyril," she says again, her confidence clear. "I-I'd stay away from him. I believe there's some pact amongst the magic council to leave him be for what he did in the great war but...last I've heard is he's been resting...if he fully wakes-"

"Vee, that place is maintained. No dust, no spiders, if Cyril is-"

"Likely some cleaning service that's hired for the place. I'm sure Cyril has someone take care of the place..."

Well, I'm sure she's right. She has more connections with this kind of stuff than I. She's also right that it wouldn't be a good idea to run into him there. Vampires are said to wake up with a terrible thirst after all. My family has a long and quite troubled history with their kind as well...

"There is power in their blood, you know," Vee finishes my thoughts. She does this a lot. I sometimes wonder if she's plucking them from my mind.

"Yes, I know..." and that word lingers. My mother, she had used the power of blood, a dark art for certain, to gain more power. Human blood, while powerful, paled in comparison to that of vampires at least when it comes to certain rituals.

"Do you ever think that using dark magic makes you evil?" She asks, this is a question I can tell she has thought some time about and one that I need to consider a bit more before answering and so my reply is simple.

"Dunno," okay, really simple.

"Yeah," she takes a deep breath. "All our lives we've been told our parents were horrible people but-"

"Vee, my mother hunted vampires to extinction and regularly sacrificed the blood of innocents, vampire or no, for her rituals," I clarify, a little firmly.

"Yes but-"

"My father manipulated physics just to rule over the Realm and he killed other spellcasters, anyone who questioned him."

"My father wasn't so bad..." was her response, a correct response. Her dad was caught up in it, guilt by association really because he had no idea that teaching my mother blood magic would make her insane or maybe it was her lack of sanity that sought out such a magic? Chicken or egg thing, I guess.

"Either way, they are the dark arts for a reason, aren't they?"

"Yea..."

It was good that Vee left shortly after because I worry about her sometimes. I worry about what she might be teaching herself, especially with the sort of questions she likes to ask.

It's likely nothing though, she's a good friend and a good person and a curious soul. So much of our families legacy has been denied to us as well, I don't blame her for wanting to claim at least pinch of it...

Episode List - Next

[houseofwisteria]

[SACRIFICE]: the sender cups the receiver's face tenderly to distract them, right before shoving them out of the way (to safety) and facing an attack alone in order to buy the receiver enough time to escape. ( wes )

He didn't understand what happened until the class door shut. They were supposed to both go through it, both of them but now he's standing on the on the other side shouting. " What are you doing Valerie?! " And banging against it. He tries the other door to the science lab but Ghostface locks it. He could hear a commotion inside, chairs, glass, a struggle and immediately ran around to the windows outside and looked inside. " Valerie? Valerie! Hey! Are you okay? " He can't tell! The room is so dark. He looks around and then picks up a big rock and throws it through the window making a hole big enough for him to climb inside.

[fuerst-von-argot]

I don't know if it's of interest to anyone here, but @elenatria, @progressi9 and I were in Lithuania for a week and had some emotional and exciting moments at the HBO Chernobyl locations. 😁

At the palace of culture and sports we interrupted some current filming and discovered Boris' armchair.

In Fabijoniškės we learned from which rooftops the scenes were shot and where CGI Chernobyl was located.

In the KGB prison it was pleasantly chilly with 34 degrees outside.

We saw shooting stars on the Alley of Sigitas Geda.

They're the same picture.

The Bench Scene in Pravieniškės without the bench but right next to a prison, quite secluded and tranquil and without a cab driver for the ride back.

And at the Amsterdam School Museum, Valery's appartment (directly across the street from our hotel) we learned about the Jewish, gay former occupant of the appartment and how important this place was to HBO, as well as how important it was to them to decorate the entire appartment, including the inside of the fridge, in Soviet style. Or how Valery's cat was almost fed dry food. 

And then there is the back door that could be used to visit Valery's appartment hidden from the eyes of the KGB. 😏

I can only summarise it by saying that it was incredibly unique and emotional and I learned to appreciate every place, every scene we visited in a whole new way.

I can still hardly believe everything we learned, especially from our wonderful guide and host in Valery's appartment.

[lixxen]

hello beloved mutual lixxen. im curious of about danny phantom! ive seen your reblogs of it, and i was wondering if you could explain the premise of it? bc my memory of it was a kids show from nickelodeon, but it seems super popular. is it still running??

anyways it seems kind of fun, im thinking of starting it

Welcome back to Lixx explaining hyperfixations!!

Danny Phantom is a children's cartoon from 2004 that has three seasons and a graphic novel (that came out last year) (the show has been done for twenty years)

It focuses on Daniel Fenton, who is a 14 year old who lives in a small town somewhere in the northern Midwest of the US (near Wisconsin but not in it). His parents are scientists/inventors who are obsessed with ghosts. They create a portal that should bring them to the Ghost Zone, a special realm that ghosts come from, but it doesn't work. Danny does inside of it and turns it on, which turns him into a Halfa. A Halfa is a half ghost, half human. He canonically dies twice in the show. I will not elaborate on how this kid just dies a few times.

The show follows Danny and his friends (and various classmates and reoccurring cast) as he learns how to use his powers and fight off ghosts along the way!

The cast includes:

His older sister Jazz, who is actually a really good big sister who cares a lot even if she's overbearing

Sam, his main love interest who is a Jewish goth girl and doesn't eat meat

His best friend Tucker, who is a techno nerd who loves meat

The A-Listers, who are the popular kids

Valerie, who is a love interest and enemy at certain points

His parents Maddie and Jack, who are overbearing and can be kinda crazy at times

Vlad, his not uncle who is fucking insane and a main bad guy. In love with Maddie

Plus various others!!

The fandom is very active and old. There are regular Tumblr/AO3 events that happen every year with a schedule and there is a steady fanon that has been built around the show that is basically canon (or supported by the canon). The creator, Butch Hartman, is a bigoted asshole who everyone hates.

The show is very fun and it is bingeable. It has a specific formula and is predictable at times. But also, it's very grim because you slowly realize that this 14 year old kid is literally carrying the weight of a realm on his shoulders and is living a double life where his parents basically want him dead and gone while loving his alive self

The fandom loves gore/whump.

I'm not kidding.

I have written a handful of gore fics for this show and tbh they're not even the worst things ever. If you've ever want to see some of the most jaw dropping whump and gore, this fandom has it.

We have fics that are literally the best written alternate universes and have nothing to do with the original show besides characters and death. Like. There's bound books of that specific fic. I haven't read it but it's long and it will make you sob

Some things that are lore building/fanon shit that everyone knows:

Ghost obsessions (you'll know it when you see it)

Ghost cores having specific effects on ghosts (it's canon but not really talked about in canon for more than two seconds)

Danny having allergic reactions to blood blossoms outside of his ghost form

Ghost speak being a ghost language all ghosts speak

Wes Weston and Kyle Weston being unnamed background characters that the fans took and made into full characters. It's actually cool as fuck. They're fully functioning characters and I love them

Death echoes/death days

I will warn that whatever feelings you have regarding to ships needs to be kicked to the side. All things go for ships here. Don't like the ship/don't condone it, don't interact with ir. You will waste your breath trying to play police over ship

Ships also have names. Platonic AND romantic ships. Here's some I can name off the top of my head:

Pitch pearl: Danny/Phantom (Danny gets split into a ghost and human form at one point)

Amethyst ocean: Danny/Sam

Savant Par: Danny/Tucker

Everlasting trio: Danny/Tucker/Sam

Badger cereal: Danny & Vlad (I think????)

Swagger Bishie/Golden Twinkie: dash/Danny

Pink astronaut: Danny/Paulina

Gray Ghost: Danny/Valerie

So yeah lol

This is my most read fic I think. I am gonna start writing again for DP soon. I love reading them

(here's my AO3 fic tags from my bookmarks for DP)

[freestyle-crocodile-trashpile]

Birds

Summary:They see your bird for the first time, and there surprised

Type:Short Scenarios: Valeria X M!Reader: Farah X M!Reader: Horangi X M!Reader: Graves X M!Reader

Version:Mw2

Farah

Farah had gotten up, pretty late at night to get a drink. She had also noticed now her boyfriend, you, weren't in bed. After Farah got her water she started looking for you. Looking in all the rooms she eventually pasted a window, seeing you in the corner of her eye she turned and looked outside, mid drink. She started coughing, accidently inhaling her water. You heard her and rushed inside with the giant black bird still on your shoulder. Helping Farah, she looked at the bird, before turning the light on. She froze, there was a giant vulture on your shoulders. Noticing the panic in her eyes you quickly explained the situation to her, letting out a low chuckle you watched as Farah relaxed. Playfully punching your shoulder Farah headed back to bed after that small heart attack. You could only laugh

Graves

He knew you had animals, but didn't know what kind. Now Graves is a big bird guy, he loves them. There so colorful and full of life. So when you said you had a lovely bird he couldn't ask to see, he is kinda shocked you hadn't told him sooner, hence the fact your dating. So when he seen the colorful Beak of a toucan he couldn't help but stare in awe. It was the first time he seen a toucan. It was on your shoulder as you feed it some fruit. He was amazed, and yes of course he asked to hold your toucan. He'd be so happy, might try and steal your bird. But seriously, every day he'd come over and act like he's there for you, then eventually he'd just start going start to your toucan.

Valerie

She knew something was up with you. Like how you sometimes used her credit card to buy weird fruits. She'd start getting suspicious when you give her a cheeky smile instead of telling her why. Till one day she showed up at your house, wanting to find out what's going on. Walking in she seen a small bird in your hand. Leaning in the hallway door way she watched as you fed it some fruit. Letting out a small hello, she watched as you whipped around alittle embarrassed. You let out a small laugh, trying to hide the bird. She walked over to you and peeked around your shoulder seeing the small bird fly up to your shoulder. Chuckling at its cute little face she looked at you, as you awkwardly told her it was a gift and how it was a buff-faced pygmy parrot. Smiling she gently put her hand out letting the bird jump into her hand. Smiling she gave you a quick kiss, thanking you.

Horangi

He isn't that big of a fan birds, but he's a big fan of you so he doesn't mind listening to you. But when he heard you had a bird, a big bird he got curious. He wanted to know the first time you told him, then a few minutes later he forgot about it. He wouldn't remember until he comes face to face it, on accident. Walking into your house whistling as he sets down grocery bags. Confused since you hadn't responded to him when he called out, walking to the back door where you usually come in from, opening the door and calling out to you, he got your attention. But also the bird. You turned the corner and waved him over, walking over to you cautiously you pulled him over to a the shed looking things that he figured was just a tool shed, seeing the ostrich looking at him he pulled his hand back. He's heard to much about ostriches to get close to yours. He's loves that you found something you like, but he'll keep his distance.

[A/n:I love birds 😃. I hope you enjoyed]