Vevobly

⋞ 〈 I write fanfics on the following:

Tumblr -> Vevobly

AO3 -> Vevob

Wattpad -> Rio_Roo

⋞ 〈 Masterlists: (still working on it!)

Yellowjackets ->

⋞ 〈 I made the mistake to make multiple accounts with the intentions of somehow making each solely just for one fandom I'm in previously.

⋞ 〈 This is my 5th blog on Tumblr, and it's supposed to mainly focus on reader inserts fics or headcanons I'll be making.

⋞ 〈 I'm in a lot of fandoms. So don't be too surprised about me posting every once in a while about this or that fandom.

A/N: My 1st blog is about Heathers (musical & movie). My 2nd blog is about my OCs. My 3rd is just for me. My 4th is for a specific OC only.

⋞ 〈 I've written a few really messed up stories before (dead dove: do not eat), but nothing beyond things such as cannibalism and so.

⋞ 〈 Nope, I don't write SMUT currently! I've written some before, but that's about it.

Stuff to Keep In Mind:

I don't allow anyone who harasses, makes hateful remarks, or acts rudely towards anyone on this blog!

I'm comfortable writing almost anything including those with dark themes, but there are certain topics I won’t write about, especially those that are particularly sensitive.

Heads up, I stick to what I know mostly. If I’m unfamiliar with something that you requested or asked, I’ll consider it. I may take time to respond, so please be patient. I’m not always available or active at certain times.

If you want to ask questions or make requests while staying anonymous, anon asks are turned on! Use an emoji of whatever or note to let me know if you're a recurring anon.

If you want to request something, please check if I’m accepting requests first. I won’t always be taking requests due to personal things such as my complicated schedule and so.

Regarding stuff that aren't related to any writings, you can ask me almost anything except overly invasive or uncomfortable questions.

Feedback is always appreciated, I love getting to know what things people liked about my work and what they didn't! Constructive criticism is welcomed, I'm always looking for ways to improve.

Important Sidenote:

Please don’t repost, copy, or claim my work as your own. If you wish to do things such as translate one of my works or share it onto another entirely different platform, please ask me for permission for it before doing so.

Also, I don’t create bots on any sites or apps like character.ai and so on. Why? Because they’re generative AI that often use the works of real writers without permission, and I don’t support that.

A/N: Once again, this is a collab between JoeGabberish and me over AO3! Please check out their AO3 if you want to extend and show your support to them as well. This is a continuation of part 1, which you can check out here. Joe is actually thinking of making this idea into a full blown fanfic at some point when she can, but it's still undecided. I give her my full support in doing so, though :D

Your own condition scares Nikki.

The voices, the vague comments, and your tendency to answer questions sideways.

“Do they bother you?”

Nikki asked you one day after waiting outside your therapy session.

You looked over with a blank face.

“Sometimes.” “Sometimes they don't.”

Nikki never quite knows what that means.

But you have never hurt her.

Never frightened her.

Manipulated her, or anything alike.

So Nikki eventually concludes:

“Maybe weird doesn't automatically mean dangerous.”

A lesson she desperately needed.

Then she notices tiny things.

You remembering exactly how she likes her tea.

Saving the blue blankets for her, because of how she gravitates towards them.

Standing between her and aggressive patients without making a big deal about it.

Leaving little notes for her when she has rough days.

“You're Nikki, and that's enough.”

Nikki falls in love with you slowly.

Painfully, and quietly.

It terrifies her, because what if—

What if this isn't real?

What if something's wrong with her again?

What if she can't trust herself?

And you? You notice, before she even says anything.

Because Nikki starts holding onto your sleeve.

Sitting closer.

Looking for you first after nightmares.

Saving you seats.

And bringing you books from the library.

Then, eventually, Nikki says it.

“I don't know if I'm capable of loving people normally.”

She admits it in the dark.

“I don't even know what's fucking me anymore.”

And you, whether it's just plain stupid or brave, replies.

“Then we'll figure out who you are.”

“You don't have to do it today.”

“I'll stay.”

Nikki has spent so much of her life in the aftermath of deciding who she should be.

A daughter? A friend? An object of affection? An obsession? A victim? A monster?

You never tell her who she is, you just ask her:

“Who do you want to be?”

And that's when Nikki realizes she's in love with you.

Not because you saved her. Not because you “fixed” her. Not because you understood every broken piece of her.

But because you looked at the worst parts of her life—the fear, grief, uncertainty, and the possibility that she may never fully trust herself again—and chose not to turn away despite everything.

“I'm here if you want to be.”

You smiled and took her hands in yours.

This is love, Nikki finally thinks.

A/N: I'm sorry for being inactive, but I was kind of in a state for the months I wasn't around. Anyways, I love Nikki Freeman and I collabed with JoeGabberish over AO3 on this. Joe doesn't have a Tumblr account, so please follow her on AO3 instead!

After the trial, Nikki barely speaks.

She remembers enough of what happened to know why people are afraid of her, though.

Why the staff watch her carefully, and why other patients talk in whispers about her.

Some of them even call her, the boy crazy girl. Which Nikki, in all of her life, never expected to ever be called, least of all, because she killed Bear and her friends.

The rest? They just avoid her altogether.

And Nikki lets them.

Because maybe they're right to be scared of her.

And maybe she should be scared of herself too.

You become her roommate almost by accident.

Another young woman, quiet and strange.

Another person tried for multiple murders and declared not guilty by reason of insanity.

According to court records, you claimed “the voices told me to.”

Nikki initially thinks: oh god, they put me with someone dangerous.

So, she remained polite and guarded towards you in fear of whatever you were capable of doing.

She even sleeps facing the wall with her back turned on, just because of it.

The irony?

You're one of the few people there who never asks her:

“Did you really do it?” “What was it like?” “Were you really possessed?” “Do you remember killing them?”

You simply accept that whatever happened with her was terrible, and are memories she never wants to look back at ever.

There's no judgment or curiosity from you, just fact.

Nikki gets panic attacks. She dissociates. She gets nightmares. It all made her hypervigilant,

And sometimes, she has moments where she isn't entirely sure whether she's really herself.

Sometimes she'd wake up convinced she could still feel that thing inside her.

Convinced she'd lost time again.

Terrified she'd hurt someone again.

The first panic attack you witnessed wasn't anything dramatic or big by any means.

Nikki just froze one day, stopped responding to whatever you were asking, and started to breathe too fast.

Her hands started shaking, and her eyes became fixed on nothing.

You don't reach out to touch her, don't crowd, or demand eye contact with her.

Instead, you simply tell her:

“You're here.” “You're in our room.” “Nothing's wearing your skin.” “You don't have to answer me, just breathe.”

As a matter of fact, like you're just commenting on the weather.

Nikki cries afterward.

Mostly because you didn't look disgusted or scared.

You never treat Nikki like a monster.

But you also never treat her like she's fragile.

If she snaps at you?

“Okay.”

If she doesn't talk to you for three days, whatever her reasons may be?

“You want pudding?”

If she starts spiralling?

“You're doing that thing again.” “Come sit.”

Nikki begins seeking you out without even realizing it.

Sitting beside you during meals, waiting outside therapy sessions, reading in the same room, and falling asleep more easily when your bed is occupied.

Because you don't demand anything.

Nikki had someone force love onto her.

Force closeness.

Force affection.

Force access to her body, and to her identity.

But you do none of that.

Every kindness you offer comes with a choice.

“You can say no.” “You don't have to tell me.” “You don't have to stay.”