15 Works by friight
Listing Works
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“Is there any way I can help?”
Sam blinks. “What do you mean?”
“Well, sometimes you get like this. You act all squirrely about stuff. I figure it has something to do with your…” Dean trails off, making a vague gesture. “Y’know.”
“Autism?” Sam supplies.
“Yeah.”
“You can say it. It’s not a bad word.”
“No, I know, it’s just—” Dean exhales, swapping hands once again, something he only does when he’s caught on the wrong foot. Or avoiding something. “I see you get wide-eyed and I don’t know what to do. I used to know but… well, like you said. You’re not twelve anymore.” He clears his throat. “I wanna know if there’s anything I can do to make it better, I guess.”
Or: Sam and Dean hunt a Russian cryptid. Maybe it's the stress, or the heat, but Sam feels well out of his element. Thankfully, Dean's there, and he can still recognize the signs.
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“Don’t! Rafe, don’t.” Sam’s body vibrates with the demand. He pulls Nathan further under him, concealing his torso and cradling his head. Vital areas. “Rafe—“
Rafe sounds annoyed. “Sam, move before I make you.”
“I will throw us both off this cliff and you’ll be left with neither of us. You can forget all about Avery’s treasure.”
Or: Nathan doesn't fall over the cliff side when Sam’s lie is uncovered. With Rafe deciding to hold them both hostage to find Avery's treasure, they're forced to work together and eventually reconcile.
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“Nathan.” Sam kneels down in front of him. “Hey, look at me.”
Nathan obeys. Sam’s bloodied hand —Nathan’s blood, on him, jesus— holds awkwardly out in front of himself. He darts from that to Sam’s face, which is contorted into a fully blossoming worry now.
“I— uh— I think I might’ve hit my head on the way down,” Nathan says.
“You think?” Sam laughs a little, the anxiety thick in his voice.
———
“Pleasure doing business with you?” Nate calls to their backs.
Omar glances over his shoulder. “With you Drakes? Absolutely not.”
The three of them turn around the bend, their shadows slowly shrinking against the street lights before dissipating. Sam waits a couple moments to ensure they’re not coming back before holstering the gun. He releases a long breath and relaxes his shoulders, only just realizing how tense he was.
Or: In November of 2015, Scotland, Nathan Drake takes a heavy hit to the head during the escape from St. Dismas Cathedral. In July of 1988, Cuenca, Ecuador, Samuel Drake and his little brother walk right into a trap.
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The Essence of Healing by friight
Fandoms: Marvel's Spider-Man (Insomniac Games Video Games)
20 Jul 2024
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Sometimes, when he’s working inside the garden, his brain tends to… do things he doesn’t like. The soil running along his palms will look wrong, especially if it was damp, darkened from the water he’ll pour on top of the plants. His tongue will dry and his mouth will start to taste like dirt, even though his head was nowhere near the plots.
He’ll panic, and his mind will start to wander, tricking his body into thinking he’s someplace he’s not. Then he’ll step away, let his mind recover and remind himself that he’s here now, not there. Peter wouldn’t feel like gardening for the rest of the day then, opting for a shower to get rid of the dirt that’s not even clung onto him.
“Shut up,” Peter mumbles to himself, flipping the beef to cook for another minute longer.
Or: Peter recovers and makes amends, but no one told him it’d be this difficult.
Series
- Part 5 of Mind, Body, and Soul
- Part 4 of Buried Alive
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Cost an Arm and a Leg by friight
Fandoms: Marvel's Spider-Man (Insomniac Games Video Games)
01 Apr 2024
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Peter’s eyes narrowed. They were in a deadlock. A competition to see who would break away first. In the end, it was Peter, turning back towards the window and lifting a knee to climb out of it. The symbiote spread back over his face, but before he lept off, Rio grabbed his shoulder. Peter twitched out of her grasp, glancing back.
“Peter,” she said, “I’m not going to pretend like I know what’s going on—”
“You don’t.”
Rio paused, then nodded. “I don’t,” she agreed. “But Miles needs you right now. If you could put everything aside for him, just this once, it would mean everything to me.” Peter leaned forward, ready to interrupt her, but she spoke before he could. “Go. Help. Him. Please.”
Or: Peter’s fractured anger finally rears its head when Miles is nowhere to be found. Kraven is delighted by this new development, and intends to exploit it.
Series
- Part 4 of Mind, Body, and Soul
- Part 3 of Buried Alive
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“What’s this?” he asked.
“What’d you mean?” Miles answered. “It’s your present.”
Peter sighed, leaning back against the couch cushions. “Didn’t I tell you not to get me anything?”
“It’s special,” Rio insisted. She had an odd look on her face now as well. It was somewhat like Miles’, but there was more apprehension. More caution. “It’s from both of us.”
Or: Peter gets a pleasantly unexpected birthday gift.
Series
- Part 3 of Mind, Body, and Soul
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“Pete?” he repeated, more concerned now. The achy, boiling thrum slowly returned back in his arms as Miles rearranged them, but he didn’t care. He checked for wounds on both of their bodies, but couldn’t find any. Pete flinched beneath Miles’s touch. “Hey man, you okay?”
Pete still sounded like he was struggling, each inhale and exhale a quick wheeze beneath the mask. The symbiote had saved them from the cave-in, Miles couldn’t deny it that, but something was wrong. His first thought was to call Ganke, but the thought dissipated when Pete suddenly lurched forward.
Or: Peter realizes he’s in over his head when he tries to do things alone, and Miles struggles to connect with him.
Series
- Part 2 of Mind, Body, and Soul
- Part 2 of Buried Alive
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His web shooters were just about empty. There was no saving himself from the fall. Peter tried pushing himself up, but Kraven’s boot rested on him, keeping him still. He scrambled for a hold on the flat surface.
“Thank you for your sacrifice, spider.”
“To what?” Peter wheezed.
The smile was obvious on Kraven’s face now. “Towards my collection,” he answered simply. “A truly honorable place to rest at peace.”
Kraven rolled Peter off the edge.
Or: Peter goes missing, and Miles and MJ team up to find him. Deeply inspired by Kraven's Last Hunt.
Series
- Part 1 of Mind, Body, and Soul
- Part 1 of Buried Alive
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Jake wished that he didn’t drink the water now. He adjusted his grip, slipping two fingers into the cold liquid, trying to keep himself steady in the chair. There was a light sting as the water touched the cuts against his skin.
“I am going to get out of here,” Jake promised, a statement he usually made to the doctor.
“That’s the goal I would like for all of my patients,” Dr. Harrow said, a statement he usually made in response.
Or: The system has an extended stay in the Duat.
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“I don’t care,” he mumbled.
“I care.” Marc’s voice was softer then, and Steven blinked his eyes open. When he glanced up, he saw how sympathetic he looked. “I really fuckin’ care.”
“I know you do.” Steven sighed, feeling some of his resolve crumble.
“So why won’t you just talk to me about it?”
He grabbed one of the dry towels off the rack. His voice was muffled as he harshly rubbed it over his face. “It’s not that simple, mate.”
Or: Steven isn't adjusting well after Cairo, Marc just wants to help, and there's something else lurking in the shadows, waiting to take shotgun.
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“I’ve never heard of that. What is it? A book?” Wilbur asked.
“No, god no. You’d never catch me reading a book.” Puffy laughed and shook her head. “It’s an American movie from the 1950s. I think it’s a musical in technical terms. There were some problems with the movie itself, but a popular song came from it that just. . .I guess it just reminded me of this.”
He looked up beyond the brim of the umbrella at the gloomy clouds. “Must’ve been a pretty sad movie.”
“Some parts.” She agreed, lifting her free hand into the wall of water. “But that’s what makes it exciting, you can’t be happy all the time. If everything is happy then nothing is happy, so you lose that good feeling whenever you get it.”
Or: Wilbur travels across a post-apocalyptic Europe in attempt to find his little brother, Tommy. Risk, empowerment, and grief coils alongside his journey. He travels, and with that, he learns what exactly it means to be a survivor.
[SUPPORT SHELBY]
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“Marc? Marc! What did— what the hell did you do? What happened?” Steven demanded, his breath hitching.
His hands desperately grasped at the shards, not caring if they cut into his palms. Everything hurt, and his tears blurred his vision. Through it, however, he was able to see the look of his reflection shift into something that wasn’t his own.
“Steven?” Marc’s eyes widened. “Why’re you— You’re not supposed to be—”
Steven sobbed, pressing his hand back against the knife in his stomach. “Did you get stabbed?"
Or: Marc becomes a little incautious when he gets to Cairo, Khonshu reprimands this, and Steven is left to deal with the consequences.
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"You can't keep doing this to me, Will." Tommy shook his head.
He rolled his eyes. "Oh, so now everything's about you and your woes? Get a grip, you always have an option to leave me. I don't."
"It's not about me! Whatever stupid shit you do to yourself hurts me too. I can't just leave you like this!"
'You should.' Wilbur thought bitterly.
--
Techno paused for a moment before responding. “You talkin’ about Ranboo?”
Wilbur lifted his head up. “Wait, you’ve met him? Why does everybody suddenly know him in this house besides me and Tommy?”
The piglin shrugged. “He greeted me at the carriage stop when I got here yesterday. Seems like a nice kid, according to mom.”
--
"You know I'm not really here, right?"
All the depressing plastic in the ocean and the burning tang of salt air would've never prepared him for that. Nothing on this piece of wood stranded in the middle of the ocean would've ever prepared him for that.
"What?" He whispered.
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Come one and all to my crimeboys oneshot book!
Posting is sporadic and used to dump my words somewhere. Oneshots will always be over 5k words!
[[SUPPORT SHELBY]]
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“Will. Wilbur! Get up man!”
He was being shaken awake. Awake. He was waking up. There was no bliss, there was no break, there was no easy lifestyle after death. He was being woken up again, the last thing he wanted at this minute. He died wanting bliss and was instead being pulled into another moment of living disaster and poor unfortunate souls.
What was worse is that it wasn’t Phil’s hands or his voice waking him up, it was Tommy’s. One of the two people that he didn’t want to face right now after the event of his actions. He just wanted to curl up on the stone of the button room floor and wake up back in that dreamland state. It seemed very tranquil.
He didn’t like being touched, and Tommy’s hands were grabbing his body in all of the wrong places.
It was the opposite of tranquil.
Or: Wilbur Soot has been apprehended inside the reoccurring day of his death. November 16th elongated into his own seven sunrises. He must determine a way to escape, all the while questioning himself and what he believes in without losing his head in the process.
[SUPPORT SHELBY]
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Tears began to form in his eyes as a new PA system inside the train announced it’s next stop.
“Northern and Waterloo and city lines, and national rail services. This train terminates at L’manburg.”
Dream scoffed and Wilbur looked up. He was grabbing onto the same safety handle and staring down at him. The mask hid some of his emotions, but it didn’t have any issue conveying how unamused he appeared. He assumed he was a sight for sore eyes, after all.
“My gods, you’re not going to cry the whole ride too, are you?” His voice sounded exhausted.
Or: After thirteen years, Wilbur Soot recieves a one-way train ticket that gave him a direct ride into life. The issue is, he escaped death's grasp just to unknowingly fall right into Dream's.
[SUPPORT SHELBY]