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mockerycrow · 4 months

Note

4k! Congrats! 🎉 I humbly request some Rudy x gn!reader with the angst "Call me the second you get this. I wont be mad, I just want to know you're safe."

SAFE (Rodolfo Parra x GN!Reader) — 4K CELEBRATION

a/n; i apologize for how late this is—i hope you enjoy!! i need to write for rudy more tbh.

IMPORTANT TO NOTE: bolded italics in conversation are spanish.

[WARNINGS; stalker themes, out of character probably, angst, descriptions of anxiety, open/unhappy ending.]

YOU HAD MENTIONED to Rodolfo about a suspicious person that has appeared in your everyday life. You mentioned it was a big burly man, someone who looked quite intimidating and they certainly used it to their advantage. At first, you didn’t notice him, even as he followed you from shop to shop.

When you first began to notice the familiar figure, standing in an aisle across from you, maybe checking out a few boxes that he didn’t seem to actually show much interest in, you had sent Rodolfo a text. It was first a “men are creepy” text with some quick context, sending assurances to him that you’re fine. It still put on edge; he made sure you were carrying a pocket knife and at least a backup self defense weapon, which you always were.

That first text was not the only text you ended up sending to your dear boyfriend, who could not come home right away to come help due to a different threat in the country requiring his presence. You began to keep track—due to Alejandro’s advice once he was informed of the situation—all three of you knew that the police were likely not going to take this seriously as they nearly never do.. Until something happens. So, a separate chat between you and Rodolfo is made. It’s filled with photos of the recurring man or if you can’t capture a picture, you quickly send a text of where you are and what the man is doing. It went from seeing him once in a few days, to every other day, to literally every single day.

“I just.. I’m afraid to leave home, Rudy—but I have work, and I..” You whimper into the phone, your heart pounding out of your chest as you close your front door after putting a couple of paper bags down on the ground. You had just gotten home from the store where you had seen the man; where the man had the audacity to inch ever so closer to you, as if you hadn’t ever noticed him. “I know, sweetheart, I know. It’s not something you can afford, hm?” Rodolfo soothes you through the speaker, his voice causing a comforting chill to go down your spine and spreading down your skin. “Are any of your friends able to accompany you in public?”

You let out a breath as you try to calm down your hammering heart inside of your rib cage. “No, not all of the time, I asked.” You reply quietly, taking a seat down on the couch for a moment. Your eyes glance over to the open curtains of your home, allowing anyone to peer inside of your house and see some of the layout. You walk over and quietly shuffle the curtains closed. “I see.” Rodolfo utters softly into the phone, a bit muffled on your end. You sniffle, closing your eyes as you sit back down. “Please do not cry, honey. I will figure out a solution as quickly as I can.” Rodolfo murmurs, his voice ever so slightly strained.

He knows how scared you are—every conversation lately always ends up leading to something about the strange and disturbing man. It hurts Rodolfo that he can’t be there; he’s asked for leave, but he can’t leave his post. Alejandro has tried to approve his request time after time again, but of course.. Someone above him vetoes his decision. Something about the situation at hand is too important—a situation you have no clue about, of course. Rodolfo can’t even tell you about it, even if he wanted to. All he wants to do is protect you from any threat possible and it’s killing him that he isn’t home to do that.

Rodolfo doesn’t know how much his superior’s superiors decision will maybe cost him. It’s about two weeks later after that incident, of the strange man borderline invading your space. You went out and bought cameras—not ones connected to WiFi, no. Rodolfo taught you better than that to buy cameras that could be easily hacked into. No Ring Doorbell type cameras, of course. You bought cameras, accompanied by a friend; the man missing on this trip. You bought new locks, made sure to not leave any spares outside like with your previous locks. Even when you were forced to venture outside of your home by yourself, the creepy man seemed to be lacking in any of his usual areas. For a week, you were paranoid. Maybe he just found a way to watch you without being noticed; maybe he grew some brains, but you couldn’t find him at all.

After two weeks, one day.. You haven’t texted Rodolfo once. Not a good morning text you usually send his way, no updates about your day, nothing about if you maybe have to work—not even a mention about how the birds on the bird feeder outside are behaving and it’s eating at him. His bones are aching every time he checks for a notification from you; nothing. Absolutely nothing. The anxiety in his gut is brutal, carving it’s way up his throat and threatening to spill out in angry spurts; or maybe actual bile instead.

There’s anger and cold panic settling in his guts, in his muscles—his skin, his bones, his cartilage. There is nothing else but just.. Rage, and worry. His texts were being left on delivered and now they’re not being sent at all, meaning something is going on with your phone. Alejandro shoots him a worried look when he watches Rodolfo furiously typing at his phone, walking away for some privacy. He’s already called you several times; both him and Alejandro, but he has to keep trying. He needs to know you’re okay. Rodolfo is so close to grabbing a truck and going AWOL for you. He clicks the phone symbol to shoot you another call.

Rodolfo curses and his heart drops to his stomach when it goes voicemail automatically. Cold sweat rolls down and seeps down his face down to his jaw when he hears the voicemail he helped to set up for you.. Hearing your wonderful voice; he doesn’t want your voicemail to be one of the last times he’s heard your voice. He inhales shakily—his chest feels tight. “Hey, sweetheart. Call me when you get this. I.. I won’t be mad, I just want to know you’re safe.” He pauses for a moment, and then his lips part; his voice wavers. “Please.”

Rodolfo tries to keep himself focused despite your lack of response. He tries to focus on Alejandro’s words, the paperwork that needs to be done, the ride out to the city that needs to happen to scope out an area for a future endeavor. He knows his heart and mind need to be at work, but all he can think about is you; and that man. Rodolfo only lasts about an hour before he brings his case to Alejandro. He opens his office door on base, Alejandro’s brows already tense and furrowed from Rodolfo’s previous behavior. “What’s wrong, brother?” Alejandro utters, keeping their eyes locked.

“It’s them,” Rodolfo answers easily, making the other man tense. “I think something happened, I.. I do not know what to do, Alejandro. I need to go home.” The air is tense and thick—the intensity radiating off of his usual calm second in command nearly choking Alejandro. He lets out a deep sigh, contemplating. “Go.” Alejandro utters. Rodolfo eyebrows raise for a moment and Alejandro tips his head towards his office door. “I can deal with the bullshit later. Go.”

Rodolfo sends him an appreciative glance before he’s right out the door.

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the-s1lly-corner · 6 months

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A bit of a specific idea, but I had a platonic idea for all of the characters in the Amazing Digital Circus—

Maybe all of them with a Wally Darling-like Reader? An example of such being Reader also speaking in a monotone voice that is both a little unsettling yet friendly at the same time, always making eye contact and never looking away, being able to eat things by blinking, being a lot more aware than they seem, greeting people individually anytime they enter a room, etc etc.

TADC cast x wally darling type! Reader !

Still stuck on mobile so this post may be a little short and whacky <\3 + I'll be relying on this ask for wallys personality since I cant open other tabs without risking deleting my progress on this <\3 + I've never touched welcome home 😭😭

CAINE:

Honestly, I don't know anything about welcome home as stated above, but I think Caine would have a lot of the same habits; namely the eye contact and I can also see him doing the blink eating...

The only difference is that hes way high energy

I think he would think that you're just a silly lil fella, an interesting little thang, wants to study you under a microscope..

Thinks its endearing how you greet everyone personally.. loves when you do it to him since it makes him feel special n appreciated

POMNI:

Overall pomni is going to need a lot of time to get used to the weirdness of the circus, and this applies to getting over the unnerving feeling she gets around you

Probably becomes speechless and does the face when you blink-eat

You know...

Just stares at where the food item once was... how did you do that...? What are you going to consume next? Why are you looking her in the eye like that?

..oh you're just telling her you enjoyed the snack you've brought

JAX:

As per usual I'm writing these all out of order, and I happen to be writing jax after I did zooble

I think jax wouldnt just think you're unsettling, I think he would think you're creepy

Now does he think you're a threat? Personally I don't think he would go as far as to classify you as such

Watches in horror as you blink and consume his sour gummy candies

Okay now this is war

You guys sometimes have unspoken staring contests, you usually tend to win them

Actually now that he thinks about it you dont seem to blink outside of eating...

RAGATHA:

"Oh, you're just a quirky lil fella!" Pretty much

Always thanks you when you greet her, she makes it a habit to greet you back when you enter a room

Tends to give you your favorite snacks, I think, but I think this can pass as a general hc rather than being specific to this post !

Little put off by the eye contact but does not turn away or show any discomfort; is able to push through it pretty well !

KINGER:

Okay so I know I mentioned some other characters being creeped out by the eye contact but I think kinger would be the most put off, asides gangle

But also I can totally see kinger having a staring problem; be it because hes lost in his thought and happens to be staring or some other thing

Accidental staring contests between you two/j

Feels like a real king when you personally greet him, probably bows a little and does a lil gesture with his hands before returning the greeting

Similar reaction as pomni when you blink-eat

Where did the food go??????

ZOOBLE:

I must admit, I think zooble would find you creepy, too <\3, or at least a little unsettling.. like sure they wont be mean to you unlike SOMEONE but they're a little put off by your odd behaviors

Though they would get accustomed to it in time, I think, especially since I have a whole "zooble ultimately doesnt care much about what's going as a means to cope w/ the digital circus as well as that just being their personality"

Does not like the eye contact, though; zooble seems like the type who wouldnt like eye contact... maybe I'm self projecting, though...

The eye contact definitely is what fed into the unsettling factor for them..

GANGLE:

The eye contact makes her so so nervous, she doesnt really have eyes the same way everyone else does but it still... makes her feel off

Similar to Caine she does feel nice when you greet her.. yes she knows out do it for everyone, but that doesnt dismiss the nice feeling she gets that someone is. Well being nice to her...

Shed like your voice, I think, oddly soothing and it's not too bold and out there.. not overwhelming, you know?

Not many ideas for gangle today <\3

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #pomni x reader #jax x reader #ragatha x reader #kinger x reader #zooble x reader #gangle x reader

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ev3rgreenxtrees · 3 months

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could you write a nick x ftm!reader? something like the reader sees a bunch of hate comments about him and nick comforts him? (if not that’s totally ok)

,,My Boy’’

-N.S

Synopsis: You and Nick have been dating for a long time now, and you finally agree to be in one of the boy’s videos. Nick introduces you as his boyfriend, and the viewers find out you are trans. Some don’t respond the best to this, but Nick is there to comfort you.

pairing: bf!nick sturniolo (he/him) X trans ftm!reader (he/him)

warnings: homophobia, transphobia, panic attack, gender dysphoria, body dysphoria, cyber bullying, threats, harassment, homophobic & transphobic slurs (i promise i can say them. id never EVER say a slur i couldnt!!) and i think thats all! please let me know if i missed one <3

requested?: yes!

back to: masterlist

—FIRST PERSON POV—

After Nick constantly asking me if I was positive I don’t want to finally be in one of the triplets videos, I reluctantly agree.

I have been dating nick for around eight months, and we have kept our relationship a ‘secret’, for these past eight months, and i finally agreed to be in a video.

Matt got back into the car, shutting the door behind himself. Nick smiled at me, before speaking up.

“Welcome back, everybody! Today, we have a special guest, my boyfriend, y/n!” Nick boasts. I love how he openly called me his boyfriend, but i was worried. were his fans going to find out?

Sure they would, but would they care? probably. I passed well enough to be called a male in public, but whenever people care enough, like the Sturniolos fanbase, they will look for all my socials, and they’ll know.

A million thoughts ran through my head, but they were all cleared out once I heard Nick call my name again.

“Y/n? babe? you okay?” he asked, shaking my shoulder gently.

“hm? oh- yeah. sorry. i zoned out,” i chuckled a little. “could you repeat the question?” i asked, and nick complied.

The rest of the video went by pretty smoothly, since I was occupied with thinking deeply at all the odd questions Nick was asking us, and laughing at the out of pocket jokes from matt and chris.

We recorded for about an hour more, knowing that more than half of the footage would just be cut out in editing. Matt screeched into the camera, before shutting it off, and handing it to Nick, and starting the car.

Matt drove all of us to the triplets house, since I just stayed there often with them anyways. we walked inside, and Nick and I went up to his room to edit the video.

I caught myself giggling at the stupid jokes and the annoying bickering, but I cant lie, we’re pretty funny.

“this video has to be posted today,” Nick sighed, only a little bit into the editing. “I hate it when they wont film until the ‘night’ of. It’s 2:34 AM, and the video needs to be up by 4:30..” Nick sighed.

He looked over at me, noticing i was growing increasingly more tired.

“get some sleep, baby.” Nick smiled, kissing my forehead. I complied, before crawling into his bed, falling asleep there.

I woke up again, and it just so happened to be 5:00 PM, somehow. I always sleep throughout the whole day, so i wasn’t really surprised.

I yawned, before staying in Nick’s bed, allowing myself to wake up. I checked my phone, which normally has none to five notifications, but this time, i had well over a thousand.

My eyebrows furrowed; and i quickly shot up. I scrolled through the notifs, to see comments on my old instagram and tiktok posts,

“Awe! Nick’s boyfriend is so cute!”

|_ “replying to : @— ‘boyfriend? i thought nick was gay. this is disgusting.’”

“That’s gross. She changed her name and claimed to be a boy. Fucking gross. Grow up.”

|_ “replying to : @— ‘HE is a boy. He always has been, he just realized it, and is now brave enough to show it. let him be.’”

“Thats not even a boy💀”

“Nick could’ve done so much better and actually got himself a big strong MAN.”

“shes so ugly wth.”

“Nick needs to realize that he could do so much better than her. he needs to raise his standards because what the fuck.”

“guys, her name is y/d/n, not y/n!”

Each comment broke my heart. Sure, there were a few sweet ones, supporting nick and i, but the horrible degrading ones outweigh those by a long shot.

I felt my eyes start to water as i scrolled through the comments. I didn’t want to see them, but i couldn’t stop looking.

I felt the tears start to roll down my cheeks, as i looked through the comments.

I stopped looking through comments i was tagged in, and began looking through my instagram DM’s. Fuck. These were worse.

“kill yourself you stupid fag.”

“nick doesn’t want you, tranny.”

“kill yourself before i kill you.”

“don’t corrupt nick you disgusting freak.”

“i promise you, nick hates you.”

“why’d he pick you. he could’ve had me😂”

I let out small silent sobs, throwing my phone on the ground. I heard a pair of feet running up the stairs to Nick’s room, before the door flew open.

“shit- what happened? fuck, y/n, whats wrong?” Chris’ eyes widened as he saw the scene in front of him. My phone broken on the floor, and i was sobbing into my knees on Nick’s bed.

I nodded, and chris immediately ran by my side.

“he’s out with Matt- ill call him. im staying here with you until he gets here, okay?” he placed his hand on my back. he quickly pulled his phone out of his pocket, calling nick. i didnt understand what he said, because i wasn’t paying attention. i just need nick.

Nick. thats all i want. He’s all i need.

“hey.. please, talk to me.” Chris spoke softly, putting his phone back in his pocket. “what happened, buddy?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowing, his hand never leaving my back.

Thats when i realized, i wasn’t wearing my binder. Normally, not wearing my binder at my own house, or even the triplets, doesn’t bother me, but as i read through all those comments, calling me a girl, i couldn’t help but feel disappointed in myself.

I looked down at my chest, and started crying harder. I couldn’t breathe. fuck- i’m having a panic attack.

“n-nick- i- i need n-nick!” i gasped, quickly sitting up.

“hey- hey, it’s okay. Nicks almost here, okay? I need you to take deep breaths, okay?” Chris panicked. I panted, rocking back and fourth on nicks bed.

I knew Chris was trying to help, but i needed Nick.

We heard the door bust open, and nick and matt both ran up the stairs, to me and Chris.

“baby, my baby..” Nick’s eyebrows furrowed, as he rushed to my side. He pulled me into a hug, and looked at chris as he held me. “what happened, chris?” Nick asked, trying to raise his voice, knowing it would make things worse.

“I- i dont know! I heard a bang and crying- so, i ran up here and he was crying! he wouldnt tell me anything, besides he wanted you! i- i didnt know what to do so i called you!” Chris spoke worriedly.

I looked over at matt, his jaw clenched, as he fiddled with his own hands. his eyes glossy. Matt’s dealt with his own panic attacks, and seeing someone he cared about was probably hard for him.

“i- i-m sorry-“ i stuttered out to Matt, who had a worried expression plastered on his face. he didn’t say a word. I cant hurt matt, too.

“huh? baby, what are you sorry for?” nick asked me, pulling back slightly from the hug, to look me in the eyes.

“m-matt-“ i sobbed, and nicks head snapped towards matt, who’s chest was moving rapidly, his eyes wide.

“fuck, chris, get him out of here, please. go sit with him on the couch or something- calm him down. I got y/n,” nick gestured towards matt, and chris immediatly did as he was told.

“shh, baby. i’ve got you. You’re okay.” Nick whispered, pulling me into him. i focused on the heat radiating off of his body, his vanilla scent, and the way his soft hoodie felt on my skin. My sobs slightly subsided, and i could finally think straight again.

“My love.. i love you. so much. do you want to talk about it?” Nick offered, and placed a loving kiss on my forehead, as he brushed my hair out of my face.

“your f-fans.. they called me a girl..” i sniffled, and his gaze sofened, and he looked like he was about to cry.

“you are not a girl. you never have been, and never will be. you’re my boy.” Nick sighed, placing a soft kiss to my lips.

His boy.

I’m his boy.

I WASNT SURE IF THIS WAS A GOOD ENDING OR NOT BUT IDK I THOUGHT IT WAS CUTE.

writing the dms and comments BROKE me.

@bernardenjoyer @lovely-calypso

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #fanfic #christopher sturniolo #fluff #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #angst

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artsyunderstudy · 20 days

Text

An ask game for writers to procrastinate working on your WIP(s)

Thanks for tagging me @cutestkilla @ivelovedhimthroughworse @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @valeffelees @emeryhall @monbons @thewholelemon @whatevertheweather @aristocratic-otter @bookish-bogwitch @orange-peony @shrekgogurt @wellbelesbian @theearlgreymage @ic3-que3n - I definitely shouldn't be procrastinating writing because I'm overdue but I'm a sucker for a good Q&A.

1. 🦈Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s):

I technically have a handful of WIPs I haven't given up on posting but I'm not actively working on. Après la Pluie, le Beau Temps is the one I'm actively working on. I'm in the planning stages with All the Lonely People which is a fic I'm planning to cowrite with @cutestkilla my beloved. Then I have Sober, Water Grey, Close Your Eyes, and A Mild Case of Madness (yes I haven't given up on AMCOM I was actually thinking I'd try and finish it up after I'm done posting Après)

I don't actually work on more than one fic at a time but I also had like a flood of ideas once I was done writing Someone Wicked and that's why the pile of WIPs. Also I was trying to do discovery writing and realized that I hate it.

2. 🍄Describe your WIP/one of your WIP(s) in the format of “___ + ___ =___”

Why is this so hard???

Okay. Um.

Roommates who (pretend to) hate each other + alcohol induced vulnerability = publicly getting off with each other on a stranger's couch in the middle of a rager, probably to the dulcet sounds of goosebumps by travis scott.

3. 🌍What tags or warnings will one of your WIP(s) need if you intend to share it?

Amazingly my current WIP doesn't really require much bracing. But I am still intending very much to complete Sober (working title) which I talked a lot about last year. That would come with warnings for grief, alcohol and sexual assault. Which makes it sound so much worse than it is, but then again I always think that my writing isnt actually that sad but then i have people telling me i ripped their heart out of their chest and chewed on it so im not a good judge of that. i will say it definitely has more jokes than my usual fare.

4. 🧭An alternative title to one of your WIP(s)?

I am very decisive when it comes to titles, so I genuinely cant think of anything. I guess Sober, because I'm not sure that's the right title for the fic because it's not about addiction. It's about drunken hookups (and like, definitely some alcohol as a coping mechanism but like, mostly just uni students partying and going too hard as they are wont to do) so I was thinking of making it longer like "Kiss Me When You're Sober" but I dunno. It's not even close to done so I don't have to decide yet.

5. ⚠️Which WIP you're most likely to finish or update next?

Après la Pluie, le Beau Temps is the fic I'm actively working on and I'm going to post this guy next come hell or high water. It's just taking me a while, I'm a bit burnt out. But things they will come.

6. 💾What is your document of your WIP/ a WIP called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as)

All my documents are the fic titles so nothing really fun there.

7. 🖍Post Any sentence(s) from your WIP.

“If you’re going to do this, do you actually trust him? After everything he’s done to you. Everything you’ve done to each other.” I sigh. “I don’t know.” All the things I’ve always believed I hated about him feel different now, filtered through a new lens. His relentlessness, his sharp edges, his poise. The way he moves across the pitch, and plays his violin, sweet-toned and sorrowful. The singe of his magick. “I just … see him,” I say quietly. “And I know I want him. The way I’m supposed to.”

8. ♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP.

I don't know, I don't think I've scrapped any ideas for this WIP yet? Actually, I think earlier on in the planning I had wanted to have Niall and Dev being absolutely gross with their PDA through the whole thing, but I ended up writing a completely different side-story for them that's genuinely a ton better. Basically, they were a gag, and now they have an actual arc.

9. 🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

Gonna mirror Dre here, we have been planning a fic to cowrite but we both have other fanfic obligations to fulfill first, so it's a little bit on the backburner until we are both freed up. Again, to parrot her, it's a canonverse AU based on a movie we both adore, older (late 30's) strangers to lovers, a ghost story but in a cathartic way, not a scary way, developing relationship. We have a shared trello and I can't help but daydream about it. I am so very very eager to start working on it in earnest.

10. 🤡How many WIPS are you actively working on?

One, actively. Two if you count the fic with Dre which we occasionally can't help but get into long discussions about.

11. 🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

I am currently writing a genre I've never written before which has just been a little daunting. As well as this first chapter has zero simon or baz, probably, and THAT is hard too. But it has to be that way. For the setup. It just means I'm having to learn how to write a lot of side characters in a way I haven't done before, like Niamh and Niall (since i have a bit of experience with agatha and dev)

12. ❤️Not a question, just a second Kudos to send.

Everyone deserves so many many kudos.

Tags! @hushed-chorus @run-for-chamo-miles @j-nipper-95 @noblecorgi @facewithoutheart and @stitchyqueer <3

#tag game #artsyfic

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unlimitedhearts · 5 months

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I’m dreading the third game of Spiderman might kill off Harry :/ either he’s goblin (solo or probably along with daddy-o) and dies a la Hero Sacrifice. Or kept comatose and in the end with grim results the decision is to pull the plug on him. idk I feel Harry’s fate is doom and gloom. But they could have killed Harry at the end of this sequel giving a strong motivation for Norman to be the Goblin and hatred for Spider-Man…yet they didn’t. idk rambling thoughts. What do you think?

Personally i can see both options. I saw someone in the tags of my last headcanon post say that it wouldnt make sense to save him from death in this game only to kill him in the next. On some level i get that, why wait when you could do it now?

I have two worst case scenarios in my head:

Harry wakes up from his coma w amnesia a la the third Tobey Maguire movie. Hes unaware of Pete being Spider-Man and Peter, thinking hes protecting Harry, wont tell him. This may cause a rift in their friendship when Harry finds out - or if Norman ends up going goblin and dies - Spider-Man is to blame in Harrys eyes and he'll go after him then. To me this is a tired trope of Harry getting an intense hatred for Spidey and wanting to kill him over his father. It always felt out of character for me and i truly TRULY hope they dont go this route.

Harry becomes the Kobold. In the comics, Kobold is essentially Harrys way of making the Green Goblin a good guy. If he still wants to fight by Peters side, he'll find a way to do it. Kobold would make a lot of sense to me personally, as it kind of continues their dynamic from this game. Then at the end theres a heros sacrifice to be made and Harry goes for it despite Peters protests. This would be lazy to me too though because he essential already did the heros sacrifice in this game. Seems like theyd just want us to have more time with him to love him even more, just to make losing him hurt worse. I wouldn't put it past an intrepid writer to think they could make it work, but it just seems lazy to me.

Actual best case scenario for me though? Harry wakes up as the g-serum is being injected. Hes against being his dads experiment all over again so he runs and finds Peter. Hes not aware of his pseudo-retirement, he just goes straight to the place thats always been his safe haven; Peters home. He asks Peter to hide him from his dad. Tries to explain everything but hes exhausted and frantic. Peter agrees and they take him into hiding.

Norman, ever the expert deflector, doesnt see this as a failing on his part. Hes convinced spider-man had something to do with his son escaping so he puts out a hit on him. Hes ready, willing, and able to capture and kill at least one of the two spider-men it doesnt matter. We see him pardon Wilson Fisk for this job, and when Fisk cant do it, he has to. Normans going to go Goblin. I know it, i can feel it in my bones.

Miles asks Peter to get back in action and he does. Fisk, plus potentially Otto again, plus this brand new villain in town is too much for any one person to handle. Heres where i see Harry becoming a "Guy In The Chair" for Peter like Ganke is for Miles. Two Guys in the Chair helping the spider-men is definitely better than one. I could also see Harrys goblin powers start to emerge but he keeps pushing them down. Last time he gave into power it didnt end well for anyone.

In an effort to not write out the entire plot of the game as i see fit (because itd be long and there are so many moving pieces and characters and IDEK WHERE THEYRE GONNA PUT SILK IN-), i think if Harry does take on the cowl he'll be doing so against his father. I think i see Harry becoming Goblin/Kobold to fight against Norman and ultimately try to help Peter/Miles. This is where i see Harry either accidentally killing Norman or Norman killing his son (and of course, blaming Spider-Man)

There is also room, in my mind, to bring back Venom a la Lethal Protector/Agent Venom. But tbh if they do, i would much rather Venom go to Eddie Brock or Flash Thompson. But thats just the separate Venom Fangirl Entity within me.

Ultimately my hope of course is that Harry not die and they dont go down that all too tired and hackneyed trope of Harry growing to hate Peter dor whatever reason. I truly TRULY hope they dont go that route it is just SO tired and lazy. I want them to stay close and loving. Whatever route they go with will be SO MUCH MORE IMPACTFUL if Harry Osborn lives and doesnt make a full 180 on his best friend for no good reason.

#harry osborn #peter parker #parksborn #if you squint #spider-man #marvel's spider man 2 #spider-man 2 #insomniac spider man #insomniac spider-man #insomniac games #spider man imagine #spider-man headcanons #honestly insomniac pls hire me #i would be so good at writing this game i care about these characters SO DEEPLY.#what do i need to do for you to notice me insomniac senpai #venetiangoldroz

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multifandoms27-blog · 1 year

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It's time to d-d-dress up!

Halloween is probably my favorite holiday. I really like horror and being scared. You could say I'm a thrill seeker. Anyway, enjoy this filler while I work on other stuff lol

• ───────────────── •

Content: Various Yugioh people x gn!Reader

Warnings: Sexual themes (Yami Marik) but no actual sex so it's still SFW, unsure whether or not Yami Marik's fake blood is actual blood

Notes: Halloween is my favorite holiday. I wish I could do this for every fandom I write for, but that'd be too much for me right now, sadly. I'll probably do one or two more, but that's about it

• ───────────────── •

❥Yugi Muto

You and Yugi would obviously go with a couples costume.

He would be the dark magician, and you would either be dark magician girl or celtic guardian (they get shipped the most with dark magcian)

You two probably wouldn't trick or treat, probably just party with your friends while helping grandpa hand out candy

Would kiss you as much as you were comfortable with, because you just look so pretty/handsome to him

He's also grateful that you decided to match with him this year

Takes a shit ton of selfies to remember this moment and to post on his story/social media

Before Halloween, he probably would have spent all of October decorating the shop with you

Would absolutely want to make certain cut out cookies with you, he thinks the ghost ones are cute

Very wholesome Halloween. 100/10.

• ───────────────── •

❥Atem

You already know mans isn't original with Halloween costume ideas

He'd go as an Egyptian Pharaoh and would like it if you went as his queen/king, though he wont force you

He wont know what Halloween is about until you tell him, he's just a confused old man lol

He would love being in Pharaoh-like clothing again after so long. He'd proably try tanning the entirity of October, then be confused when there isn't much of a difference.

Help him, he's trying his best lol

Would also help you decorate if you asked, but he'd be asking questions non stop about the meaning of lights and window stickers. He doesn't take "tradition" or "it's fun" as an answer lol

A little annoying, but still wholesome. 8/10.

• ───────────────── •

❥Seto Kaiba

Seto isn't crazy about Halloween. It's six days after his birthday, that's the only way he remembers the holiday exists every year.

Because he's not crazy about the holiday, he hasn't dressed up for it since his parents were alive

Mokuba still dresses up, and he tries his hardest to get Seto to as well, but it just never happens. You're not an exception, unfortunately

Unless you get a blue eyes white dragon onesie.

He'll go as himself then, and you're his trusty dragon

Otherwise, he won't care about dressing up and will let you go as whatever, so long as its outside of the scandalous range. He's very much in the public eye, remember? He's also a raging virgin, so leave the risque costumes for private time

He'll probably especially enjoy it if you tell him it doubles as a birthday present

Either very funny or very boring. 5/10.

• ───────────────── •

❥Joey Wheeler

He'd probably be the cheesiest motherfucker out of them all

Would definitely have you two go as matching vampires or werewolves

He has such a generic look on horror and monsters in general

Dude you literally play duel monsters, there's more than just vampires and werewolves-

Would buy cheap fake blood that ends up staining your skin for a week after.

It would also strangely taste like apples?

You should probably go to a hospital after the party

Halloween with Joey is accidentally lethal. My kind of party. 10/10.

• ───────────────── •

❥Marik Ishtar

Dude I have no fucking idea what he'd be, and therefore neither would he lol

He has 0 creativity when it comes to this, so usually he'll turn to you for costume ideas

Would also be like Joey with the cheesy, overdone costumes

I can really only see him being werewolf and you being little red riding hood

He'd probably get a kick out of that, in multiple ways...

Marik doesn't understand Halloween decorations, but if it makes you happy, he guesses he'll help you put stuff up

Absolutely sneaks candy for himself though

Pretty average Halloween. 5/10.

• ───────────────── •

❥Yami Marik

Absolutely a vampire. No. Shh. Shut up. I am taking ZERO criticism on this one.

He takes it all the way. He's basically a blond, Egyptian dracula lol

He'll probably have you not dress up so he can be the vampire that corrupts you

He takes it a little too far, biting your neck with his fake fangs in

He also sprays fake blood on himself and everywhere else, but you're not entirely sure it's fake blood...

Like Marik, he also sneaks candy for himself, but very openly. He knows you can't do anything to him anyways

Yami Marik will help you put up decorations once he learns just how spooky Halloween is supposed to be

If you were hoping for a cuter Halloween, where children weren't afraid of approaching your house, then kick Yami Marik out until Halloween is over lol

Terrifying Halloween, but a great 'afterparty.' 7/10.

• ───────────────── •

Here is my Masterlist in case you want to request, or look for more of your favorite character!

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notmanagingmymischief · 10 months

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𝒩.𝐵. || 𝒶 𝒽𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝑔𝑜.

WOW, USER NOTMANAGINGMYMISCHIEF ACTUALLY STILL POSTS ORIGINAL WRITING??? :000000

shocker, i know

word count: 1,964

warnings: death/dying, mentions of incestual tendencies on Norman’s part, survivor’s guilt, ambiguous ending?

tag list:

@takemercyonme @when-i-miss-you @damagnificentcookie @straight2hades @marvelgeek09 @herashifts @crime-ninja @onebigsimp @emiliaisdead @sapphic-stress @nonbinary-cryptid-baby @merci-bitch @feartheclipse @mxbeezkneez @fxoehy @ahoy-gays @sythaerin @consciouschunkofmoss

if you’d like to be added to my tag list, send me an ask or comment, or fill in this form! <33

enjoy xx

I had been in love with Norma Bates for as long as I could remember. From the moment I laid eyes on her, probably. It took almost two long years for me to finally confess to her, and three for us to completely and totally settle down with each other. It was on what was supposed to be a calm, easy day—one where neither of us had work to do, and we could just exist with each other—where something finally went wrong.

Well, that isnt entirely true; the past couple of days we’d been having this weird tension between each other. Norma had been busy with the Motel, Norman was being a pain in my ass, and my estranged family had decided to reach out again after years. All of the stress culminated today, though. When we had nothing to distract ourselves with, and somehow it ended up in an argument. One of our worst we’d ever had, in fact. I mentioned something about my parents getting on my ass, which led to the conversation of Norman. This was already a rather sensitive topic for everyone, and I’d been too stressed to filter myself. A stray comment I made had Norma all up in arms, and so here we are; in a screaming match in our shared bedroom.

“You can’t say that! I know you don’t get along, but Norman is my son, whether you like it or not!” Norma exclaims, throwing her hands up exasperatedly. I scoff and cross my arms. “Yeah, thats the problem, Norma. He’s your son.” I give her a Look, “He acts like he’s your boyfriend. Have you seriously never even been slightly freaked out by that?” I make perfectly valid points; Norman has always been weirdly attached to his mother, in a very creepy way. But Norma was unwilling to acknowledge that. We bicker back and forth some more, poisonous words thrown back and forth between us. “At least he didn’t abandon me!”

That. That was the final straw right there. Norma knew exactly how to get to me. I confided with her about my family issues and there she was, using them against me. I reel back with a hiss. “You—what?” I spit, glaring at her. But Norma doesn’t even take it back; I sense we’re both too upset to really consider each other's feelings. I shake my head. “No, thats too much. I can’t—you know that isnt what I did!” Norma mirrors my action, shaking her head and giving me an exhausted look. “Isn’t it?” she asks, and I have to clench my fists to stop from hitting something. We stare each other down for a moment, neither of us willing to speak. And then she does.

“That’s it. I’m done. We, this,” she gestures vaguely between the two of us, “is done.”

It hits me like a bag of bricks. I’m not stupid, or dense. “Are you breaking up with me right now, Norma..?” I ask, tears stinging in my eyes. “I didn’t want to say it but yes, I think that’s what has to happen. I just—I’m done.” I keep staring at her in shock, trembling violently. I can’t speak, can barely even breathe, and Norma wont even look at me. Finally, I choke back a little sob, and with a cracked little voice, I go “Fine. Fine, then. G-Goodbye, Norma Bates,” before turning on my heel and doing my best not to run from our room, from our house, from our life. It doesnt take me more than twenty minutes to grab some essentials, only what I’ll need for a couple days before I can come pick my stuff up, and throw it and myself into my car. Not once does Norma show her face, and I’m almost grateful for it. I only spare one glance up at that old house on the hill before pulling out of the lot and onto the freeway. I don’t know where I’ll go, I don’t know what I’ll do—I just need to get away.

I drive down the highway, vision dangerously blurry from tears, for what could be minutes or hours. I have the radio up as loud as it’ll go, I’m clenching my fists around the steering wheel to the point of my knuckles aching. But nothing matters, because everything just hurts. Everything hurts so much.

It hurts so much that I don’t notice myself shaking so badly my driving has become erratic. It hurts so much that I don’t see myself accidentally veer to the left with a particularly body-wracking sob. But it doesnt hurt enough to stop me from seeing the headlights blinding me. And all I have time to do is let out a choked gasp and shrill shriek before—darkness.

Norma had been a wreck. Since she watched you from what used to be your bedroom’s window, watched you drive away and not look back, since she realized what she had done. She fell onto your—no, her bed—and put her head in her hands. She didnt cry, she couldn’t. But she did just sit there in silence, running through everything that had happened in the past hour in her head. When she did finally get up, her stare vacant and eyes dull, she went about the rest of her day without any of her usual fervor. Dinner with Norman was filled only by him, telling her about whatever taxidermy he’d done that day. And when she went to bed, Norma finally let herself cry. When she went to bed without you, and realized how cold her bed was. When she realized that the sheets hung too loosely over her shoulders because your body wasn't behind her to elevate them with your own. She didn’t sleep that night.

The next morning, Norma Bates is roused from her exhausted silence by her phone ringing. Not by her alarm, it was much too early for that. No, this was a call. With a sleepy groan, the blonde turns to grapple for it, answering the thing without reading the caller ID with an unimpressed “What?”

“Is this….Norma Bates?”

Norma didnt recognize the voice on the other end. “Uh…yes, this is she. Why..?” she mumbled, rolling onto her back. “This is Pine Bay Medical Center. We have Y/N L/N here with us…you were her emergency contact.” This immediately snaps Norma’s exhaustion out of her and she sits up in bed quickly. “What? You—what happened? Y/n? Is she alright?” “Ma’am, please breathe. Are you sitting down?” Norma’s breathing is already rapidly increasing, and she nods before realizing they cant see her and quietly choking out a “Ye-Yes, I am.”

“Mrs Bates, I regret to inform you that Miss L/N passed away this morning at…15:23 PM.”

The world goes silent. It falls out from under Norma and leaves her reeling; she nearly drops her phone from her hands as she just…stares. Stares at her wall in silence. The woman on the end of the line must be speaking to her, but all Norma can hear is a persistent buzzing behind the ringing in her ears as those words bounce around her head. After too long, the woman finally croaks out “Can I see her?” The moment she’s given the okay, she hangs up and snaps into action. She throws on the closet dress she can find, and doesnt even bother checking on Norman as she practically throws herself out the door and down the stairs.

Norma makes it to the hospital in record time, thankfully not stumbling across Alex to give her a speeding ticket, and the car is barely in park before she’s out the door and sprinting into the ER. Her voice shakes something fierce as she begs the receptionist to let her see you; as though begging them to bring you back. It takes too long for them to understand her but when they do, they give her a knowing look. “She’s..already at the mortuary, second floor.” Norma doesn’t bother thanking them before she’s gone, up the stairs and frantically searching for the room.

It doesn’t really sink in, she thinks, until she gets through to the workers and is finally led to the wall. When the small door is opened and a metal slab is slowly pulled out. And when she stares down at you. Down at her girl; peaceful but cold to the touch. It doesn't sink in that you’re gone until she rests a trembling hand on your cheek and can’t feel the warmth of your skin, when you don’t automatically lean into her touch. It isn’t until that moment that the world, reality, finally comes crashing back in and down onto her shoulders. The reality where you’re….not here.

Without being able to stop it, a shrill sob falls from Norma’s lips, and just like that she collapses against the wall. The mortuarists don’t intervene—they’ve seen this happen too many times—and let her grieve. They let her sob and plead and press her fingers to every cut and scratch on your pallid complexion, until she’s finally guided slowly and carefully from the room, still crying and repeating your name desperately. She’s sent into an empty room to be by herself, but she can’t even make it to the chair before she’s on her knees on the ground, sobbing all over again. Face in her hands, nearly screaming with the agony filling her entire body and soul. Gone, gone, gone, gone. You’re gone. Nothing Norma can say or do can take back what happened, and now you’re gone.

You’ll never wake her up with breakfast in bed again. You’ll never laugh at her stupid jokes. You’ll never hug her from behind and press your face into her hair as you grumble about the workweek’s stress. She’ll never kiss you again. She’ll never stay awake talking until past midnight about anything and everything again. She’ll never even…see you again.

Norma doesnt know how long she stays like that; eventually someone must have shown up because now she’s sitting in an uncomfortable chair and being asked too many questions, being talked at too much, and everything’s too loud. And Norman is there. He appeared a few hours back, but didn’t dare try to speak to his mother. She was too deep in her grief to even recognize his presence yet, and when she answers questions they’re brief and mumbled. The clearest thing that passes by her hearing is a doctor saying “Your wife was very strong in the OR. She fought hard, and it’s a real shame she didn’t make it.”

Her wife? When had she been put into the role of your wife? It was only once she was given your phone that she realized her contact was titled “wifey <333”, her name only written in the subtext inside the contact info. This brought on a new wave of tears. More unidentified time passes, until Norma is finally left alone with Norman in silence.

“I’m done.”

Norman looks up at his mother with a confused look. “What did you say, mother?” She slowly raises her head from her hands; “‘I’m done.’ That’s the last thing I said to her,” she breathes, eyes glistening with more tears that prepare to join the ones already streaming down her cheeks. “The last thing she thought she knew was that I hated her,” Norma chokes, sobbing again and letting her head fall back into the wall. She doesn’t even register the dull sting, too consumed by guilt and shame and grief.

What flowers will they have at your funeral? Did you ever write a will? Who would they tell? Would she let your family know?

But worst of all—how would she live with herself knowing that this was all her fault?

#my writing #fanfiction #fanfic #norma bates #norma bates x reader #vera farmiga #vera farmiga x reader #vera farmiga fanfiction #lgbtq #gay #angst #tw death #tw inc*st #a home where the heart can never go

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perfectly-clear-from-here · 1 year

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ty @alexturnersmommy for the tag!! 15 questions/15 mutuals - right. here we go

1. are you named after anyone?

nope. wish i could say more but its simple as that 😭

2. when was the last time you cried?

oversharing and its bitter aftertaste ahhh fuck it. sobbed my face off few days ago on monday at my grans grave

3. do you have kids?

nah. jesus do i want kids? ehhhh- nah no youre aright

4. do you use sarcasm a lot?

...probably. nevermind - yes. one of the phrases i say the most is "aw you've only went and done it havent ye." in a really angry voice when someones done absolutely nothing- which is really confusing cause i also say it in a less angry voice when someone does something really good?? ah

5. what’s the first thing you notice about people?

their voice!! i find it really easy to like someone if their voice sounds nice and also the opposite, do love a good accent.

6. what’s your eye colour?

hazel ig?? ive got central heterochromia so the centre of my eyes are brown and the rest is green.

7. scary movies or good endings?

good ending all the way. having said that, i am an avid agnst enjoyer so put your characters through hell as long as everything works out <3

8. any special talents?

uhhh i can moonwalk and half stand on my head- that's fun at parties 😭

9. where were you born?

glasgowwwwwww... like 3 months before i should have been 😭

10. what are your hobbies?

writing (shameless plug: read my fic ahhh its my pinned post), playing guitar, sticking ungodly amount of posters and magazines on my wall and uhhh love a good wee dj sesh i wont like *record scratch*

11. do you have any pets?

got a cat called derrikk. aye.

12. what sports do you play/have you played?

does dance count as a sport? eh what the hell. dance, sailing if you count it as a sport- longboarding...if you can count that as a sport 😭 used to do basketball.

13. how tall are you?

oh here we go. i'm 6'... let me tell you i am unstoppable (very much stoppable im an unbalanced bastard) in heels

14. favourite subject in school?

music tech and drama - only class where i can just chuck on my headphones and listen to music while editing projects stuff and in drama i love a good wee bit of the spotlight

15. dream job?

wanna be a film writer and director!! #my first screenplay is a mile long and very much unfinished

oh heres the fun part (remembering tags has to be one of my weaknesses) no pressure/dw if youve already been tagged!: @ballad-of-what-could-have-been @uhbasicallyjustmilex @rainymongerbanditweasel-blog @smokinnicsuckindic @mileskanex christ my memory is actually gonna be the death of me, anyone who wants it, you're tagged!

#oversharing and its bitter aftertaste #kidding #this was alot of fun!

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deaf-solitude · 28 days

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Bloodsucker Pt. 2 (Vampire!Frenchie x GN!Reader)

Takes place post-season 1, pre-season 2 once again!

Pairing: Vampire!Frenchie x GN!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Blood, death, detailed violence, vampire feeding, fluff???, they’re goofy your honour

((Oh my god I’m SO sorry for how long I’ve been gone, writer's block hit me like a mf but I’M FINALLY BACK!! Back with pt 2 of the vampire!Frenchie fic B). I took some liberties on the mechanics/weaknesses of vampires in this part (i.e. they can go out in the sun (but are prone to sunburns), how they act when they haven’t been able to feed in a while, etc), which I hope doesn’t screw up anything too much. If anyone would like an explanation of how vampires work in this AU, lmk and I’ll make a more detailed post about it. Also this came out a lot more platonic than i intended I’m so sorry lol. ALSO ALSO i probably wont write a part 3 unless it’s explicitly asked for, and if you guys do want a pt 3, let me know what you’d like to see in it and maybe i'll get around to it :D anyway, enjoy!))

To say you were now incredibly worried was an understatement.

Over the few days since the whole vampire accusation, things had only looked worse and worse for Frenchie. The opportunities to feed on bodies after raids were practically nonexistent because of the newly implemented rules and the crew had gotten annoyingly creative in their attempts to “ward off” the suspected vampire among them. You were afraid you were never going to be able to get the smell of garlic out of your nose after this all blew over since they had been hanging up bulbs and cloves everywhere you could imagine; you had even found a bulb stashed away in the storage closet you usually napped in, which you were quick to throw out of the nearest porthole.

Despite the crew’s valiant efforts, Frenchie had informed you that garlic didn’t actually repel vampires, but it did cause what you chalked up to be a minor allergic reaction in them. This was good news since Jim had forced every person on the ship to eat a raw clove shortly after the initial incident. You were never fond of garlic, so the experience was less than pleasant, but having to deal with a bleary-eyed and runny-nosed Frenchie afterward might’ve been worse.

But what really had you worried was the raids. Blackbeard’s strict schedule of at least one raid per day didn’t let up in the slightest with the discovery of a vampire on board, and as time went on, you noticed Frenchie acting… weirder than normal.

The exhaustion came first, which was one of the symptoms you expected from him not being able to feed. It started with him getting more tired than usual as the day went on, and then taking longer to wake up in the mornings. Next thing you knew, he started joining you on your cat naps in the closet, where you’d have to practically drag him out while he was still half asleep to avoid getting caught. Now, even in the middle of the day, he fought to keep his eyes open, and you had often caught him falling asleep standing up while leaning against a post.

Then there was the weakness. You had never been a particularly strong person before being forced into Blackbeard’s crew, but you knew Frenchie was at least a bit stronger than you due to his height. He had always been able to handle larger crates of treasure easily with the help of Jim, but now he could hardly keep himself on two feet, let alone transport cargo. There were several times when you’d send Frenchie down with a crate, you’d hear a loud clunk shortly after, and when you rushed down to check on him, the crate would be tipped over on the floor with Frenchie standing out of breath next to it and complaining that his arms hurt. It was even easier to tackle and drag him around now since he had little strength to pull away.

This didn’t prove useful in raids, both for his well-being and your mental health.

You had practically adopted the role of his bodyguard, having to save his ass from combatants on multiple occasions. In one particular instance, the raid had started fine. Sure, Frenchie was a bit drowsy, but it was nothing too concerning to you at the time. A few minutes later you were desperately trying to yank an enraged man off of Frenchie, who was pinned underneath him and screaming for you to do something. Jim eventually stomped over and repeatedly stabbed the attacker in the back, causing him to crumple over right on top of Frenchie. After Jim quickly returned to their combat, you then spent another minute trying to haul the now dead man off of Frenchie, who could barely lift the body an inch off of his chest.

Today, you decided to keep a keener eye on your companion as you boarded a new ship. While Blackbeard did his usual drawn-out and dramatic entrance, you were already watching Frenchie out of the corner of your eye, who was standing beside you. Well, standing the best he could. He was swaying slightly in place, his eyes repeatedly fluttering shut and jolting open again once he realized they had closed. You bit your cheek and turned your attention back to Blackbeard. He was fucked.

It wasn’t long before Blackbeard finished his spiel and the crew leapt into action, eager to slaughter any adversary they could get their hands on. You took a breath to try and calm your nerves before lightly slapping Frenchie on the back in an attempt to wake him up a bit more, rushing forward to join your crewmates soon after. He jumped at the contact and swivelled his head to see who had hit him, when he very suddenly realized that they were, in fact, in the middle of raiding a ship. He cursed under his breath before sluggishly following after you, clumsily setting up his “claws” in his hands.

As blood started to spill, you saw Frenchie perk up, whirling around to stare at a man who had just recently been felled by Fang. What he failed to notice was another man coming up behind him, sword drawn and ready to strike. You were quick to cross the deck towards the two, slicing a gash into the man’s chest without hesitation before turning to Frenchie. He was about to lunge for the body when you caught the scruff of his jacket, yanking him back. “Are you fuckin’ mental?” You hissed, struggling to keep Frenchie in place.

“Wh-huh? No, no, I’m good,” he slurred, his eyes locked onto the body as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. You groaned, slapping his face lightly. That caught his attention and his head snapped back to look at you with a glare. You paid the nasty look no mind, pulling Frenchie slightly closer to you as your face darkened with annoyance.

“Behave,” you growled before letting go of his jacket to twirl around and deflect an oncoming sword with your own. Frenchie rolled his eyes, mumbling something about how he wasn’t a dog and that he could control himself, gracelessly lunging at another poor sailor soon after.

You had just knocked the sword out of your opponent's hand when you heard the tear of flesh and the choked scream that could only be accredited to Frenchie’s handy work. When you turned around to check on him, he was salivating above the bleeding man with wide, unfocused eyes. He almost got a bite in had you not immediately abandoned your own scuffle to drag him away from the dying man once again.

The raid turned into one big game of keep away between you and Frenchie, much to your dismay. You’d turn your back on him for a second to focus on not being killed, and when you looked back at him a moment later, he’d be hovering over another dead or dying body that you inevitably had to yank him back from, and the process would repeat. You were starting to worry that it looked far too suspicious to be normal, but not much was normal about the crew anyway with the way they ripped apart seamen and pirates alike.

Speaking of, the crew had torn this ship’s crew to shreds in record time, and soon everyone was standing in piles of blood, guts, and gore of their own making. Not a single soul was left alive aboard that ship.

You stopped your fretting over Frenchie for a second as you took in the sight of both the countless bodies that littered the bloodied deck, and the numb faces of your crewmates. Your heart sunk in your chest for a brief moment; the crew couldn’t keep doing this for much longer. The heavy footsteps of Blackbeard spurred you from your grief, instinctively yanking Frenchie back to your side after he had tried (and failed) to sneak over to another body.

Blackbeard’s cold gaze studied the crew, tilting his head slightly before speaking: “Alright, collect the plunder and let’s move on, lads.” His nonchalant voice cut through the melancholy mood of the crew like a hot knife, everyone flinching slightly before being quickly propelled into action. You huffed as you watched Blackbeard retreat to the confines of the Revenge, slowly turning to look at Frenchie with an agitated glare. He faltered under your gaze, taking on the expression and posture of a kicked puppy.

“You owe me big time,” you grumbled, poking an accusing finger into Frenchie’s chest. Before he could get a single apology or excuse in, you practically dragged Frenchie–who had started frequently stumbling as he walked–off of the raided ship and onto the Revenge. Despite your annoyance, you were quick to offer your support to him, letting him lean on you as the two of you trudged off that damned ship. He had protested, saying that you two had to haul treasure, but you knew he’d drop it anyway and kept walking.

It was hard to stay mad at Frenchie, it really was. The longer you walked in silence, the more guilty you felt about the whole situation.

You brought him down to his room and sat him on the bed, eying him warily as he flopped over onto the mattress and groggily blinked up at the ceiling. “So what exactly happens if you don’t drink blood for a long time?” You started, nervously wringing your hands out as you sat on the other end of the bed.

“Umm, I d-don’t know for sure,” he muttered, his head lolling from side to side as he struggled to keep himself awake, “I th-think I dry up and die or something.” You weren’t sure about the dying part, but you had noticed his cheeks becoming increasingly hollow over the past couple of days.

Again, you couldn’t help but feel like this was your fault. If you had just ignored that stupid gap in the wall, the crew never would have found out. You sighed, bouncing your knee nervously as you thought of what to do.

…Well, you did have an idea in mind, but you weren’t sure about going through with it.

Your mouth started moving on its own before you could really think the idea through: “What if I…” you paused, biting your lip with uncertainty. When Frenchie looked up at you with big eyes and that stupid pout, you knew you’d lost.

“What if I let you… feed on me?” You mumbled, your words hardly above a whisper, but Frenchie heard them loud and clear. He nearly jumped you, actually, taking hold of your shoulders and leaning forward with dizzying speed.

“Really? Like right now?” He exclaimed suddenly, sounding more energetic than he had in days. You grimaced, averting your gaze before sighing in defeat.

“I suppose. Can’t have my napping buddy shrivelling up on me now, can I?” You joked nervously, but it went right over Frenchie’s head as he grinned brightly.

“Oh my God, you’re the best!” He praised, engulfing you in a tight embrace. You wheezed, patting his back with a strained smile on your face.

“Yep. No problem,” you huffed, struggling to breathe, “just, uh, give me a sec to gather myself, yeah?” Frenchie nodded, willing to go along with anything to let him feed on you at this point. You sighed heavily, scooting backwards on the bed and leaning up against the wall, unbuttoning a few of your shirt’s top buttons to expose more of your shoulder.

“N-nothing too obvious, okay? Below the neck, preferably,” you stammered, watching warily as Frenchie practically foamed at the mouth. You straightened your back slightly, your fingers digging nervously into the tattered sheets of Frenchie’s bed as he slowly crawled on after you. It was… extremely creepy, with the way his eyes were blown wide and his lethargic movements mimicking that of a cat stalking its prey.

“Yeah, yep, ‘course,” he replied mindlessly, drawing closer and closer to you. He positioned himself dangerously close to the junction between your neck and shoulder, his warm breath fanning against your skin sending a shiver up your spine.

“How much do you think this is gonna hurt?” You questioned to give yourself a distraction, unable to stop yourself from shaking as Frenchie grabbed your shoulders to keep you still. You figured the answer was obvious, but maybe you were overestimating how painful it would be in your mind.

“A lot,” Frenchie stated bluntly before suddenly sinking his fangs into the flesh between your neck and shoulder.

You were not overestimating it.

If anything, you were severely underestimating how much it would hurt, and Frenchie’s blunt statement did nothing to describe the pain you felt.

You had to stop yourself from screaming, quickly slapping your hand over your mouth after a sharp inhale. It felt like two giant needles had just been stabbed into your shoulder, stinging like hell and almost making you queasy enough to pass out. Despite that, you clung to your consciousness, fighting to keep yourself quiet as Frenchie started to drink your blood properly. A cold creeping feeling crawled its way down your spine from your shoulder: it was excruciatingly painful and uncomfortable as you got colder and colder, but you held out for Frenchie’s sake.

Speaking of Frenchie, you couldn’t help but notice how incredibly… intimate this seemed on his part. Forget the location of the bite, Frenchie was making some questionable noises and hums as he continued to feed on you, pushing his body against yours and feverishly grasping at the other side of your neck. You could’ve sworn you saw his eyes roll back, but it was difficult to tell from this angle.

Before you could ponder that thought any longer, you started to get woozy, feeling unnaturally cold. “Frenchie,” you whined weakly, attempting to gently nudge him away. He didn’t budge, pressing himself against you further. You sighed, and with the little strength you had left, pushed against him with all your might. “Frenchie, get off!” You hissed, finally spurring him out of his daze as his fangs withdrew from your flesh. He stumbled backwards from the force, but managed to land on his feet as he was shoved off of the bed.

His breathing was heavy as he stared at you for a few seconds, his mouth parted slightly and his pupils still blown wide. It took a moment for him to process your sorry state before his skittish demeanor returned, gulping in what seemed like awe as he dragged his hands down the back of his neck to try and ground himself. He wasn’t really sure what to do now; usually his “meals” were already dead or dying. Not sure if he should move closer to you again, he could only quietly apologize: “S-sorry, sorry. God, that was…”

“Good?” You heaved, bracing yourself with your hands against your knees while your head was bowed in exhaustion. You stared up at Frenchie through bleary eyes, who had your blood smeared all over his face, looking very pleased with himself because of it.

“Oh, better than good. I haven’t had fresh blood in ages, and yours tasted heavenly.” Frenchie marveled, freezing after his unintentional hushed statement as he stared at you with wide eyes. You did unfortunately hear him, raising a brow at his mortified expression while your lips quirked into a small, teasing smile. His face flushed but he didn’t comment any further on the notion, looking away as his tongue darted out to nervously lick away some of the blood still left on his lips.

Before you could unpack all of that, a splitting migraine invaded your skull, causing your vision to go blurry as you made a strained sound of pain. You tried to hold yourself upright, but you could feel yourself quickly tipping forward from the sudden wave of dizziness that hit you.

Before you could fall far, Frenchie had swiftly caught you in his arms with a concerned cry of your name. “Oh Jesus fucking Christ, I haven’t killed you, have I?” You could faintly hear as you clung to your consciousness, trying your best to right yourself to no avail. You could feel yourself being gently picked up and moved slightly, and then placed back down on a soft surface.

“Fuck, fuck, I’ve killed them. What am I gonna tell the crew? Where am I gonna hide the body?” You could hear Frenchie fretting, the guilt finally kicking in for him. You groaned hearing his outlandish thoughts spoken aloud, weakly reaching your hand in his direction.

“I’m not dead, you fucker,” you croaked, trying to blink your heavy eyelids open.

You could hear Frenchie gasp, and a sound that vaguely sounded like something falling to the floor beside you. “I’m so sorry! I don’t know what came over me! I-I got carried away,” he apologized profusely, taking one of your hands in both of his own like you were on your deathbed. You snorted softly, a wobbly smile spreading across your face at the action.

“Relax. I don’t think you could kill me if you tried,” you teased in a weak voice, finally managing to get your eyes open to give him a look. You had expected him to be standing above you, but after a second of your eyes searching the room, you found that he had kneeled down on the floor next to the bed. You had to stop yourself from bursting into laughter at the sight.

Frenchie’s face scrunched up in confusion at your comment before a look of confusion and slight offence overtook it. “What the fuck’s that s’posed to mean? And why are you… giggling?” You managed to laugh weakly at his reaction as you turned your head away, bringing a small smile to Frenchie’s face in the process.

“N-nothing, it’s-” you cut yourself off with more hushed laughter as you looked at him again, bringing your free hand up to cover your mouth in an attempt to stifle your outburst.

“Is it because I’m kneeling? Because I’m worried that I killed my closest friend?” Frenchie taunted, though it was obvious that his words were all playful by the huge grin that spread across his face. You couldn’t stop laughing as he continued to speak, turning away from him to try and hide your face. You had no coherent answer for him, and that only encouraged Frenchie’s teasing.

“Wow. I just… this is unbelievable. I never thought you’d stoop so low, laughing at my… my concern for you,” he snarked, putting a hand on his chest in mock offence.

“Stop, stop! God, it hurts,” you exclaimed through strained giggles, clutching your stomach in pain with a wide grin on your face as your constant laughter started to give you a cramp.

Frenchie hadn’t taken your exclamation the right way initially, thinking that he actually did something to hurt you. His expression dropped almost immediately, trying to figure out what he had done as he started to withdraw his hand from yours. “O-oh, I-”

You were just as quick to snatch his hand back up when you noticed that he had started to pull away, nearly gasping as you did so. “N-no, no! You’re fine, Frenchie. It just hurts to laugh so much,” you explained hastily with a warm smile, easing his concerns.

It had been so long since you’d laughed that hard.

Frenchie’s face lit up with relief, and then quickly turned red with embarrassment. He smiled sheepishly, quite thankful that you had kept his hand in yours as he gave yours a soft squeeze. “Ah, right…”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you laid on his bed, your eyes drifting down to where your hands interlocked. You had taken to idly running your thumb over Frenchie’s knuckles, a soothing gesture that you were focused on.

“B-but seriously; thank you. I, uhm… I needed that.” He mumbled, watching you run your thumbs over his knuckles with a soft expression.

“Yeah, clearly. I mean, fuck, do I even need to mention what just took place during the raid?” You ragged, playfully rolling your eyes as the lightheadedness slowly dissipated from your body. You sat up slowly with Frenchie’s help, hissing quietly as the puncture wounds on between your neck and shoulder were jostled.

Frenchie scoffed exasperatedly, slapping your arm lightly as a light blush spread across his face again. “Will you shut up? It wasn’t that bad.”

You gave Frenchie an unimpressed look, raising your eyebrows. You opened your mouth to rebuke him, but he was quick to shush you before a single sound could come from you.

“I don’t need you to recount it, thank you.”

You laughed again, hesitantly cupping one side of Frenchie’s face with your hand, who was still kneeling on the floor. “You're welcome,” you smiled, pressing a quick kiss to Frenchie’s forehead. He blinked in surprise, inhaling sharply at the soft gesture of affection. A conflicted expression crossed his face as he looked up at you with wide eyes.

”Why… why are you doing this for me, anyways?” He questioned quietly, pouting slightly. You pursed your lips, not exactly sure why you were going to such lengths for him in the first place; you had barely known him for more than a few months, and yet here you were, risking your life for him.

”…Because you’re my friend, and that’s what friends do,” you answered hesitantly, still not totally confident in your reasoning.

Frenchie seemed to catch onto this, looking amused as he raised a brow at you: “Yeah, because normal people are always letting their vampire friends feed on them.”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “Shut up. I just care about you, okay? Is that illegal now? Am I going to be arrested?” You argued playfully, rolling your eyes.

Frenchie chuckled, still not quite content with your answer. “You care about a vampire? A monster?”

”I do. Shoot me,” you snapped sarcastically, choosing not to comment on his monster classification just yet. That seemed like a completely different problem to unpack, and you were too exhausted—both physically and mentally—to properly address it just yet.

Frenchie barked out another laugh, finally dragging himself off of the floor to sit next to you on the bed. “Okay, whatever you say, you weirdo,” he finally caved, dropping the subject for now. You snorted at his name calling, shaking your head with a smile.

Frenchie’s eyes drifted back to the puncture wounds at the base of your neck, wincing at how deep they were. They weren’t bleeding, but there was blood smeared around the area from how hurriedly he was feeding. Heat rose to his face again at the thought, but he quickly tried to distract himself from it by getting up to get a rag and some bandages.

”Let’s get you patched up, yeah?” He smiled bashfully at you, nervously wiping at his mouth again in case there was any blood left behind. You chuckled at the gesture, bringing your legs up onto the bed to sit criss crossed.

”That’d be appreciated, yes.”

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luckyyluka · 5 months

Text

Darling

joshua bassett x gn!reader

Summary: reader is at their limit, but joshua knows them too well, and he wont let them drown. (hurt/comfort fic)

Notes: no use of pronouns, no use of y/n, no description of reader

Credits: dividers by @cafekitsune

Trigger Warnings: no specific mental illness is mentioned but in a general sense, SEVERE depression is heavily implied. Detailed depictions of depression, self harm, suicidal thoughts, almost attempted suicide using pills (all from reader).

This fic has a fairly detailed moment where reader is cutting themselves. I wrote this originally only for myself as a form of comfort. Please THINK before you decide to read this. The most important thing here is for you to stay safe. The sole purpose of me posting this fic is for readers who are similar to myself that might find comfort in this, but not everybody will get the same thing out of this fic, so please please please do NOT read if this will trigger you in any way. be safe, lovelies.

i wanna get lovesick, i wanna get lovesick with you

the sickly-sweet song sliced through the deafening quiet, nothing else but your small sobs and sniffles.

that was your phone, your ringtone set as lovesick by peace. you looked down at the screen, barely making out the contact name through your tear-filled eyes. joshua.

the song was starting to get annoying, considering this was the fifth call in the past three minutes. you rejected the call once again before turning your phone off completely.

now that you could focus, you looked down on the ground in front of you where you sat criss-cross. you were home alone, and after a week of agonizing pain, your depression made you feel as if you were drowning and you couldn't breathe.

you couldn't take it anymore. every moment that passed by poured more salt into the wounds of the past, and sometimes, it even created new ones, fresh wounds.

the blood trickled down your skin as you decided to make some new wounds. battle scars, as some might say. only this time, this wasn't a battle you planned on winning.

when crimson had gently stained your arm just enough to satisfy you, your shaking hands set down the blade as you finally let out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding in.

your eyes were sure to be a bit red and puffy as you had already been crying in your bed. you wanted to write a note beforehand but you barely even found the energy to end up on the bathroom floor you sat on.

as tears fell down your cheeks, sobs threatening to escape your trembling lips, you grabbed the bottle of prescription pills next to you.

before you could think to proceed with whatever you had planned, there was a quiet knock at the bathroom door. nobody was meant to be home. joshua must have come home early.

you were home alone, still living with your parents who were currently out of state. joshua took a trip to stay with you for a few days, being your best friend and all, but he was out to run errands. keyword: was.

"hey, it's joshua," his voice was small, gentle. it shouldn't have brought you much peace, you knew he'd do everything he could to stop you, and probably even get angry with you. after all, you did worry him. who wouldn't be mad at you for that? "please let me in..." but nevertheless, that small voice made you choke out sobs even harder than before.

barely audible, you tried to speak, "go away..."

in hindsight, that may have been dumb. what was he gonna do? actually go away?

"please let me in, okay? that's all i ask." his quiet pleas from the other side of the door drew your hand up to the handle, slowly and shakily turning it to open the door.

he looked at you for a moment. your hair was a mess, you had bags under your eyes, you haven't changed in days, you hadn't showed in weeks, and you were sure that it was probably time for a tooth brush. you felt disgusting. you were disgusting. it didn't take a genius to know he was probably judging you. who wouldn't?

"oh, honey," he knelt down next to you as your sobs got harder and you stared at him through tear-stained, lidded eyes.

immediately, he pulled you into a hug as you cried, face buried in his chest. "i'm sorry," you kept repeating over and over. his hands ran through your hair as he shushed you, reassuring you and trying to help you calm down just enough for him to give you a bit of first aid.

after a few moments of his tight embrace, you finally settled down enough to breathe. he took the bottle of pills that had toppled to the floor amidst the commotion. "did you take anything?" he questioned quietly.

you shook your head no.

"promise me?"

you nodded.

he looked at you with gentle eyes and an empathetic smile. tears welling up with both worry, but also relief that you were still alive.

he took your hand, guiding you as he stood up and helped you stand as well. he rummaged around the drawers in the bathroom until he finally found the gauze and a cotton pad to cover your wounds.

he smiled at you comfortingly as his tears threatened to fall. he guided your arm underneath the faucet as he turned on a cool stream of water. he grabbed a wash cloth, slowly and carefully cleaning your wounds and blood-stained skin.

once you were all cleaned up, he dried your arm off as gently as possible, taking great care to not hurt you as he patched you up.

he got some anti-biotic ointment, gently massaging it over your cuts before placing the little cotton pad over them.

now that your wounds were safe, he grabbed the roll of gauze and wrapped your wrist up tightly, but not too tight. it was just tight enough. you were all patched up.

"now," his voice was soft, "lets get you a shower, can you do that for me? i'll help you wash your hair."

he helped you down off the counter. you stood close to him, head held down as you almost cowered. but you nodded, nevertheless.

joshua turned around to give you some amount of privacy while you got undressed. he used that time to turn on the shower, making sure the water was just the right temperature for you. he took some saran wrap to protect your wrapped up arm, covering it lightly as the water heated up. he then took off his clothes, and helped you step into the shower as he followed.

it was intimate, being so exposed with him, but it wasn't anywhere near sexual. not for him, not for you. it was innocent, pure, tender.

joshua wrapped his arms around your waist from behind as you stood directly underneath the water. he peppered light kisses along your shoulder to prove to you that he was there. you closed your eyes, feeling every drop of water cover your skin.

joshua took the detachable shower head and ran it over your hair, soaking it. he took some of your shampoo and began to massage it into your hair gently. his fingertips worked to help soothe you.

finally, he rinsed the shampoo and repeated the steps for your conditioner. your hair was clean, thanks to joshua.

"there you go. i'm really proud of you for letting me help you," he said genuinely. this made you feel a little safer. you did it! you accomplished something, even though it may have seemed like such a small task. it wasn't small to you, but you did it. and joshua was proud of you.

he made sure that you knew you were safe, that he knew you were safe before he stepped out to let you wash your body. you even used soap! still, the little tasks were tough, but again, you did it.

your stomach jumped thinking that maybe joshua would be proud of you for this, too. you let yourself think more. your mind wandered to dark things, the sad parts of your brain, but you somehow you still managed to think about joshua. your best friend, your literal life saver. you realized there wasn't a single other person you'd rather be with you right now.

as you finally finished up your shower, you felt a little better. feeling less icky helped ease some of your insecurities at the moment. you stepped out, and joshua greeted you with a warm towel. he wrapped it around you and held you for a moment, despite the fact that it dampened his own shirt a little bit.

you pulled on an old t-shirt that joshua had given you. he said he wanted it to feel like a forever hug from him once it was time for him to go back home. you weren't really supposed to wear it yet, but he gave the gift to you early so maybe you'd feel a bit safer with it on.

you threw on some boxer shorts and some fuzzy socks before letting joshua fix your toothbrush. as you brushed your teeth, he encouraged you, comforted you as he ran his hand over your back and stayed only inches away from you.

finally leaving the bathroom with joshua, you headed over to the couch in your living room. he watched as you sat down and he smiled wide at you.

"what?" you asked him as he stared at you.

"i'm just so proud of you," he hopped over the couch to meet you, pulling you into a tight hug. he gave you a quick kiss on your cheek before he pulled away.

you giggled quietly. it wasn't much but it was something. the most hint of your sunshine that he'd seen in days. and it made his heart flutter with joy.

"wait, i need to throw some dirty clothes into the bin," you said as quickly as you remembered.

he followed you to your room so you could throw some old clothes into the dirty-clothes bin, but you were met with a fully cleaned room.

you thought back, knowing the last time you left your room just this morning, it was filthy. the floor was covered with dirty clothes, water bottles scattered around the room and trash from the few snacks that you could tolerate eating over the past few days.

joshua had cleaned your room while you were bathing.

"joshua, you didn't have to do that," your face blushed with embarrassment, and maybe you were a little flustered, too. after all, you had someone in your life who loved and cared about you so much that they'd clean your room for you after helping wash your hair. he tended to your wounds, and leant you his old t-shirt to help you feel safer. he dropped everything he was doing just to drive home and check on you. why? all because you sent a mildly cryptic, "i love you" text and missed a few calls.

he loved you.

like really loved you.

so he pulled you into another hug, resting his head on your shoulder as you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck. he held you tight, so tight you thought he'd never be able to pry himself off of you, even if he tried.

when he finally broke away, he gently grabbed your hand and guided you to your bed. "let's get some rest, it's kind of late," he suggested.

you nodded. "mmkay," you obliged without hesitation. you admit, you were a little sleepy.

you climbed into bed and got comfy under the covers.

joshua didn't join you.

he studied you, your damp hair crowding around your face, wearing his shirt, yawning and snuggling into the pillows.

you were beautiful. to him, nothing could change that. not even when you go too long without showering or brushing your teeth. not even when your room gets a little too messy. not even if you tried to get him to change his mind. you were the most beautiful girl in the world.

"have you eaten today?" he finally spoke up.

you hesitated to answer.

"be honest," he pleaded.

you shook your head, finally admitting that you hadn't eaten anything.

"stay here, i'm going to go get you a snack," he smiled, leaving the bedroom door open so you could still hear him. you'd never feel alone with him near.

he walked through your door again, bringing a small bowl of grapes and other various fruits along with a glass of water.

"can you try and eat some of this for me? and drink some water?" he asked you softly.

you hesitated, but nodded finally. you sat up in the bed, taking the bowl. you waited to begin eating as joshua climbed into the bed next to you.

he turned on the tv, playing your favorite show for you to watch while you ate.

"i'm proud of you," joshua said for the third time tonight. it made your heart beat a little louder.

"thank you," you finally responded.

it was silent for a moment as he sat next to you, his hand resting on your thigh as you watched the tv and ate the fruit from the bowl. his thumb calmly stroked where his hand rested.

you finished eating, surprising even yourself as you cleared out the whole bowl.

he took the bowl from you, leaving a kiss on your cheek as he put the bowl down on the side table next to your bed.

"i love you," you blurted out without thinking.

you hadn't said the l word yet. neither of you. this was new territory, and looking back, maybe not a great time to confess such a thing.

but instead of giving any sort of cryptic response, any hesitation, any indication that he might not feel the same way...

he responded immediately.

he gave you a kiss, his lips meeting yours only for a moment before he pulled away and looked you in the eyes with the most golden retriever-esque smile on his face. he pulled you closer, into a cuddle.

and he finally spoke up.

"i love you with all my heart. goodnight, my darling."

#TRIGGER WARNINGS:#TW: self harm #TW: suicide #joshua bassett #joshua bassett x reader #joshua bassett x gn!reader #gn!reader #hurt/comfort #joshua bassett hurt/comfort

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