#joke tone. joke tone. referncing the format

[ebonytails]

Baby jonah lion btw. If you even care

[jae-writes-fanfiction]

omgggg im stoked ur on the slasher train now!!! for ur spooky event could you do drabbles for them comforting a really kinda sad s/o??? ik this wasnt on the prompts list but 2020 has been v rough and i just wanna be held 😔

Pick Me Off The Ground

Notes: I ended up writing this for Pelle, The Candyman, Hannibal, Tiffany Valentine, Jennifer Check, and Susie Bannion. It’s been a long ass time since I got a drabbles request, I hope the formatting is okay.

Warnings: Refernces to being sad, I struggle with depression/anxiety so some of the terminology and descriptions I use can be trigger or relate to depression, also they’re all murderers. Enjoy Responisbly ❤️

- - -

Pelle

Your shoulders slumped and you hid your face on the cot trying to muffle the chocked sobs racking through your body. This entire trip was a disaster. You’d woken up that morning with a positive outlook, sure the Hårga wasn’t what you expected. But their beliefs and rituals, although grim, were fascinating as far as anthropology and psychology go. Pelle had shown you around all day, even letting you see pages from their sacred text. But when you got back to the center of town you were confronted by the other angry tourists complaining your friends had taken the only transport and left.

You were embarrassed by their rude behavior, and absolutely heartbroken that they hadn’t cared to wait for you. Members of the Hårga had calmed the other tourists and promised to take them to the airport as soon as possible. You felt utterly alone, and displaced. You froze when you felt a hand on your shoulder, your mind scrambling for an apology to send whoever was there away.

“I’m sorry about our friends,” Pelle said quietly, his voice soothing and remorseful.

You sniffled and sat up, wiping your eyes. “I’ve felt for a while I wasn’t fitting it but I didn’t know...” you bit your lip but couldn’t keep your eyes from welling with tears again.

Pelle sat closer to you, and pulled you into his arms. He didn’t say anything, just let you cry and for the first time in a very long time, it felt like someone truly cared about you. You felt warm, and safe.

- - -

The Candyman (Daniel Robitaille)

Every bone in your body ached, you were exhausted body and soul. Life had gotten to be so draining, so stagnent and empty. Your career felt stale and the late hours impossibly fruitless. You had just enough energy to kick your shoes off and drop your things at the door before collapsing into bed.

At first you were restless, tossing and turning your body unable to relax. Desperately you turned to gaze and whisper at the mirror over your dresser. You knew he didn’t like be summoned without a more malevolent purpose, but you were always the exception. You couldn’t feel his weight on the bed, but you could feel his presence in the room instantly.

You smiled softly as you felt his arms around you. You turned in his arms wishing he could appear in something other than the cloak, although you appreciated the added warmth.

“Daniel,” you whispered pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, you could feel him faintly but the smile on his face was plain enough to lift your spirits slightly.

“Hush, my love. Rest.” His voice, like always, filled the room around you yet at the same time sounded miles away. For a moment you felt as if the burdens weighing you down were just phantoms. In another minute you were asleep, pleasant dreams and your lover beside you keeping you at peace.

- - -

Hannibal Lecter

The rain outside soaked into your jacket as you got home from work. Classical music was already playing as you shucked your jacket and boots off in the mud room. Keeping your head down you walked directly to your room and closed the door. Sometimes when you had a bad day, Hannibal overstepped the line between psycho-killer boyrfriend and professional psychologist. You knew him, and he knew you all your darkest secrets. Yet sometimes when your own mind turned on you for no reason, you didn’t want to come home to another therapist.

You peeled the wet clothes off your body and dug around for your favorite pair of flannel bottom, and that one shirt of his that always ended up in your laundry. The softness of the fabric, the warmth of the flannel, the hint of his aftershave- they were all impossibly small comforts in the wake of what you knew to be a wave large enough to drown in.

Felling a little better you emerged from the non-confrontational sanctuary of your bedroom. You wandered into the living room and curled yourself into the corner of the couch. You picked up a book and turned the pages but the words weren’t sticking. You looked up from the pages, as Hannibal walked into the room carrying a tray.

“It’s your favorite,” he said smiling softly setting the tray down on the end table next to you. The food smelled perfect, the dish was one from your childhood and the drink along with it was your absolute favorite year and type of wine. The pairing was one you had never thought to put together, another glaring example of Hannibal’s particular genius. He sat next to you on the sofa reading quietly. Although it couldn’t fix or change how you felt, it was helpful to know even now, someone cared about you.

- - -

Tiffany Valentine

You were curled up in a ball, the tears still fresh on your face when Tiff got home.

“I swear to god I’ll kill him!” She said looking over your saddened state. Mascara ran down your face, your hair was disheveled and your eyes looked so sad it broke Tiffany’s little black heart clean in two.

Your boss had become a problem. He acted too familiar in private, around other employees he made jokes about your appearance, about your performance, hell he even made fun of your picture of Tiffany once. Nothing was off limits because he was the boss.

“He kept jokin’ during the meeting about firing me,” you said between sniffles, “I’ve worked there for five years I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong.”

She crossed the room quickly to pull you into a hug. “You didn’t do anything wrong hes just a dick,” she said firmly. You laughed, and couldn’t help smiling through the tears as she held you. The soft curves of her body were inviting and promised you nothing would ever hurt you again.

“Now let’s get you all cleaned up we’re going out!” Your protestes were silenced with a quick kiss. “There’s nothing better than a hot date, and a little retail therapy,” she said with a wink pulling you to your feet.

You nodded and let her lead you by the hand back out to the car. Anytime you had a bad day she pulled out all the stops until you were absolutely spoiled and tonight would be no different- except tomorrow morning at work you’d get another present. And Tiffany would add another man to her list of recently deceased assholes.

- - -

Jennifer Check

It was past midnight when your girlfriend came home, covered in blood. It wasn’t an unusual sight but the dress she had been wearig was in tatters and you were certain some of the fluid was hers.

Panic quickly set in, and you ran to her side your hands flashing over her body trying to stop the bleeding. You pulled your shaking hands away, they were covered in dark blood. As She gasped and fainted you ran to catch her and smeared the dark substance over her skin.

As her surprisingly human looking body hit the ground, you woke up. The nightmare made your skin crawl, and you could feel tears streaming down your face. Jennifer, who wasn’t dead yet wasn’t exactly alive, laid next to you.

She lazily threw an arm around you and pulled you closer. “I’m right here,” she mumbled sleepily. You shuddered as she kissed the lines of tears on your face. The gesture made fresh tears threaten to spill over, but you bit your lip and instead snuggled closer into her chest. For now she was there, for now things would be okay. You felt her stroke and play with your hair as you drifted off to sleep.

- - -

Susie Bannion

You stormed through the dormitories, stopping only at your bed. You haphazardly grabbed shirts and linens stuffing them into the suitcase on top of your mattress. If the other girls didn’t think you were up to snuff, that was their problem. You didn’t have to stay.

Your bag was mostly packed when you started biting back tears. You’d worked your whole life for this chance, would you really give up now just because they wanted you too? You didn’t know that answer but you did know something inside you felt broken. Shakily, you sat down on th edge of your bed and held your head in your hands.

“Are you okay?” You quickly looked up and saw Susie standing there her head slightly cocked to the side as she observed your hastily packed case and distraught appearance.

You shrugged helplessly and tried to wipe the tears from your face.

“I don’t belong here,” you said. Your tone sounded like a challenge and Susie wasn’t one to back down. She dropped herself to sit next to you, and started stroking your hair as you began to cry openly.

“You’re the only one that belongs here,” she whispered wrapping an arm around you. You felt her kiss the top of your head, and it was like magic. As if she had chosen you to be her person, and in that moment the world changed and you were no longer an outsider.