Ticci Toby X Reader - Tumblr Posts - Page 3

Can I have hc of Toby with a girlfriend that wants to have a farm and live a simple life with him in the countryside, she is a baker and has a cottagecore aesthetic pleaseee! 👉👈

RIP me, I had this post almost finished when I accidentally reloaded the page so I had to start writing it from scratch 🥲

Ticci Toby With A Cottagecore S\O

Toby has discovered his soulmate.

He didn't believe such a feat was possible but he did it.

All Toby has wanted his entire life is a sense of normalcy, a guarantee that he would be okay, a shining hope amidst endless dark and dreary thoughts.

For years, he's dreamed about living in peace, surrounded by nature, where he wouldn't have to constantly be on edge or sad or lonely.

He didn't know that you longed for the same thing.

You two will lay in bed side-by-side, be it in the middle of the day or at 3 AM, and talk about sweet fantasies that the both of you have, about how you wish life could be, what you wish you could do.

Toby loves you, there isn't a doubt in his mind about that, and he'd be absolutely elated to marry you someday and move into a cute little cabin tucked away in the forest and have a family.

Wherever you went, he would happily follow behind, because in the end, he feels safe with you. He feels at home. It would only add to his delight if the two of you could have your fairytail dream granted.

Of course, it won't be, and he knows this - it's why he enjoys submerging himself in vivid descriptions of what your house may look like, how many kids you'd have, how beautiful the scenery would be, as it's an escape from the cold and harsh reality that you both put up with every day.

He adores the treats you bake - perhaps a little more than necessary - and his mouth especially waters when you're making a turtle pie or apple fritters.

He usually couldn't care less about eating sweets, or any food for that matter, but something about the enticing aroma of your delicious creations lures him in and he can't seem to stop himself from consuming as much of it as his stomach can physically hold.

Something that Toby considers a beautiful coincidence is that he loves to decorate cakes.

It's a passion of his that never really had a chance to bloom before Slenderman ruined his already pitiful life, that was, until he met you.

His talent for it has flourished over time, and whatever you made that he covered with delectable frosting, fondant, sprinkles, etc., regularly looked as if an actual professional was responsible.

If the two of you ever received the freedom that you yearn for so badly, you have decided you would open and own a bakery together.

You would be in charge of making sure the food tasted good, and he would be in charge of making sure that the food looked good.

#couplegoals

Jeff the killer, ticci Toby, masky and any other pastas of your choosing with an s/o with a fainting disorder. How would they react to s/o fainting infront of them for the first time??? Thx!

Ohhh I really like this idea actually!

Jeff:

Man will go completely still for like six seconds.

He just looks at your fallen form in disbelief, eyes wide, trying to wrap his brain around the fact that you just dropped like a duce with no warning whatsoever.

After he somewhat comprehends what just happened, he'll softly speak your name.

"...Y\n...?"

Poor dude doesn't know how to handle this.

Will definitely poke you to make sure you aren't faking.

Once he realizes you are actually unconscious, he'll shake your shoulders to try to wake you up, and if it goes on for too long he'll pick you up bridal-style and take you to Jack to get a professional opinion.

After you wake up and he has confirmation that you won't be dying anytime soon, he'll be salty.

"How could you do that??"

"Jeff—"

"No, don't talk to me. I'm sulking."

Toby:

Panic mode.

Absolute panic mode.

"Y/n? Did you just die??"

Will leap from his seat in an instant and go absolutely berserk as you lay motionless on the ground. He checks to make sure you're still breathing, and when he sees your chest rise and fall, he'll let out the loudest breath of relief.

Except now he has to find some way to wake you up. So, he calls the only one he knows might be prepared to handle something like this.

Yup, you guessed it: Jack.

Dude still doesn't know what's wrong with you, and his terror can be heard over the phone. "Y\n, unconscious, don't know what to do, get over here!"

"Calm down, Toby—"

"I AM CALM!"

When you actually open your eyes, he will pull you into the tightest hug, pleased beyond belief that you're okay.

"God, don't...don't do that to me again."

Masky:

Will catch you before he even knows what he's doing.

One moment, you're standing, perfectly fine, then the next you're not. He doesn't know what to think about that.

"Don't play games with me, dumbass," he'll warn oh-so-sweetly, arms looped beneath your back so you don't fall and bust your head.

When you're unresponsive, he'll lay you on the floor so he can get a better look at your features. You seem fine, you're not hurt, so what happened?

"Hey. Wake up."

He'll sit down beside you, not willing to admit this turn of events slightly concerns him, and waits for you to stir. After not too long, you do, and notice his position, then realize what happened. "Masky?"

"You better not make this a habit," he snaps, observing your puzzled expression. "I have more important things to do than stay here with you 'cause you're too fuckin' lazy to keep consciousness."

"If that's the case, why'd you stay?" You smirk, rubbing your head and rising. He'll huff, grab your arm, and hoist you up, careful not to let go until you've gained back your balance.

"Shut up."

Liu:

An instant 'oh shit' expression graces his face as he drives forward to snatch you up before you have a chance to hit the ground.

With one arm locked around your torso, he'll examine you, trying to find something that could have caused you to pass out so suddenly.

If you're near a couch or bed or anything else that could be used as a seat, he'll be lifting and taking you there so he won't risk you slipping from his hold.

He'll take his phone out of his pocket, trying to remain calm, and dial Jack's number while he brushes some hair out of your face.

Overall much more mature about the matter than the former three.

When Jack arrives and you wake up, Liu will stand to the side and watch somewhat nervously as you're tested to ensure you're coherent enough to move around.

He'll thank Jack for rushing over so quickly, and once he's gone, he'll take a seat beside you, wrapping his arms around you and allowing his breathing patterns to settle.

"Next time, tell me if you think you're about to faint. You scared the shit outta me."

hey! love your work its super cool. i was wondering if you could do a werewolf gn reader with toby, ej, or jane as how they would react to figureing out MC is a werewolf and how it would affect how they care for you???

(if not this is completely okay i just cant find anything like this) 🐺

This is certainly an interesting prompt!

I went ahead and did headcanons so I could add each character, instead of a scenario for a single one. Hope that’s okay :D

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Toby

Toby was mostly just kinda...”eh?” Like he knew there had to be an explanation for why you acted the way you did, and your behavior, and your strange habits. Why you’d disappear seemingly without a rhyme or reason every time there was a full moon.

He certainly didn’t expect you being a werewolf was the sole cause, but the more he contemplated it, the more it made sense.

He has been very desensitized to the supernatural and otherworldly creatures, thanks to his duty as a ‘proxy’ of Slenderman, so he wasn’t all that shocked - not by normal human standards, anyway.

He was quick to accept you and your ways and made an effort to learn as much about your kind as he could, and each time he had a question, he would ask you to make sure his facts lined up. Not so surprisingly, what society called a ‘werewolf’ was vastly different from what they actually were, and he was learning this more and more every day.

Overall, he still treats you the same, with the exception of ensuring he isn’t around the nights that you transform. He still views you as the same person he fell in love with, no fear or hesitation whatsoever.

Jane

Immediate gasp. “I knew it!!”

Jane is a very smart girl, so she had taken your actions and personality traits and started wondering if there was something more to you than she initially thought. When she did some research regarding cursed and legendary creatures, she was quick to figure it out, and outright questioned you about it one day.

You were straightforward with your answer and she got the proudest grin on her face.

Very curious about your diet, your abilities, etc, but doesn’t go overboard with her inquiries. She doesn’t brag about you being a werewolf to other people, either; it’s simply a detail that’s brought up on occasion in casual conversation.

She wishes there was a way to cuddle with you when you’re in your other form, because she thinks you’d be super comfortable and fluffy.

Jack

If there’s one person that would absolutely not judge you for something you can’t even control, it’s this guy.

Being an unwilling, organ-eating demon himself, he certainly understands the internal struggle you can go through, being half human and half a monster, and will be right by your side when you may feel a trace of guilt or otherwise about it.

 In fact, if anything, it further increases your bond, as the two of you can connect on a more personal level than anybody else could.

He doesn’t assume anything about your species, nor does he pry needlessly into your life. He doesn’t like talking about what he does, why would he expect you to be any different?

The two of you together make a supernatural power couple and whenever someone hits a nerve, the other is there to defend them.

Heya dear fella! ^^

I was wondering... What about some platonic Hcs for BEN, Jeff, Helen and Toby (Sepparetly) with an early teen fem!reader (like 12-13 years old)?

Like- The reader is just this sweet, kind, caring child who is always trying her best to make people happy always with a smile on her face and make sure their okay (that goes for physical and mental) but is always the one everyone forgets about, the one that's always left out, the one that always fades into the oblivion.

And so one night (at likely 2 am) the creep in question just finds her sitting on the sofa and he, kinda shocked, asks her "hey, you 'kay?"

And then the reader just looks at him with a confused expresion until she starts crying and shaking her head no while saying "I never was!"

This is my kinda prompt :D

Thank you for requesting!!

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BEN

In all honesty, this dude can be pretty oblivious to what's going on around him, especially when it comes down to peoples' feelings. So he genuinely took your blitheful front at face value and assumed you were alright! How could you not be? You seemed so happy all the time!

However, these false conclusions came crumbling down when he spotted you alone in the living room, sporting a blank expression as you stared at what was seemingly nothing. It was a concerning sight, to say the least. So he laid down the food he'd just raided from the refrigerator and walked closer, waving a hand in front of your face.

"Uhh...Y/n? A-are you, like...okay?"

The response he got was certainly not one he was expecting, and it took him greatly off-guard. He was not good at dealing with this sorta stuff, and the way his body stiffened significantly was proof enough of that.

Still, he wasn't about to leave. That would just be immoral. So he took a seat on the coffee table in front of you and tilted his head, letting you ramble on about how no one seemed to care about you even though you made it your #1 goal to ensure everyone else felt heard and accounted for. He held his hand up to halt your words and offered a sincere grin. "Hold up, hold up. I care about you. That counts for something, right?"

Jeff

He figured after seeing you around for a while that something had to be up with you. After all, nobody can be that happy 24/7. But you had never made any effort to signify that you wanted someone to acknowledge the potential struggles you had, so he kinda just shrugged it off with the thought, "if she needed comfort or something, she'd go to someone about it".

This theory of his backfired when he saw you looking so lost and saddened on the sofa, and it honestly startled him; what could have happened that made you so...gloomy? He had just returned from a mission, so his hoodie was coated with patches of fresh blood and his hair was messy, but he figured taking a shower could wait.

Hesitantly, he approached, raising a worried brow. "Y/n, hey. You good?" The glance that he received for that question made his stomach tense, and before he could really process it, you just started to cry, burying your face in your hands and explaining through tears how you felt ignored and insignificant. He blinked in confusion but sat down beside you nonetheless, resting his arms on his knees and leaning forward to get a look at your expression. His voice softened a bit.

"...Has this been happening for a while?" When you nodded, he huffed in contemplation, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Ya know, if you wanted help, you could've just asked. I know this place is chaotic, but bearing a burden like this alone is just not ideal. You gotta let people know how you feel. Otherwise they'll probably never catch on. They're all idiots."

You sniffled, and he gently patted your back, lacing a lighter tone into his words. "Feel free to come to me, okay? I know I can be an asshole but I promise I won't give you a hard time about it."

Helen

Like Ben, he's a bit unaware of what people are feeling, but only because he's always so lost in thought. From the way you carried yourself all the time, he was almost jealous of you. Why couldn't he be that content with his life? What was he doing wrong to prevent that?

He just kinda shut down for a few seconds when he noticed you on the couch, appearing solemn. What was he supposed to do? He's not a 'people person' by any means, and even so, the two of you were never very close. Then he thought back to that time he was being tormented by Johnny and you stood up for him, and a decision was made.

Hesitantly, he willed himself to walk over and sit a couple of feet away from you, staring at the floor and speaking in a low voice. "Are you...alright?"

"No. I haven't been. Not for a long time." It was difficult to comprehend, as you had never once acted miserable in the past, but here he was, and here you were, experiencing it. He listened unsurely to your venting without interruption, and when you tapered into a sob-brimmed silence, he took it as his cue to - albeit reluctantly - place a hand on your upper back and provide words of attempted consolation.

"...Sorry you've had to deal with that. If you want to...you can come up to my room and we can sketch or something? I have some extra supplies you can use. Just to...get your mind off of everything."

Toby

Toby is no stranger to feeling lonely or disregarded, except he never purposefully convinced people that he was 'okay'. He knew that you weren't what you seemed, however, and though he never attempted to further confirm this (he has his own troubles to worry about, after all), he still watched closely on occasion, as he's a naturally observant person.

Seeing you on the couch in the middle of the night rose questions within him, and he didn't put much thought behind the matter before stepping over and speaking with a muted voice. "What's wrong with you?"

"Everything," is what you mumbled after several moments, and he leaned away in mild alarm when you started crying. This was certainly a concerning thing to witness. Still, instinct kicked in, and he sat down close by your side, brushing some hair out of your face.

He didn't say anything, as he was never very skilled with verbal comfort, but when he realized that your emotional breakdown might last a while, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into him, expecting to be pushed away, but you only reciprocated.

And like that, you stayed, until you settled down enough to uphold a conversation. Then he opened his mouth. "Hey... Jane and I are getting together tomorrow to play chess. Wanna join us?"

Hi I was wondering if you could write Cody and Toby with a autistic little sister thank you have a good day or night (·∀·)

I wrote this assuming Y/n has level 3 severity, however if you wanted me to write for one with ASD that's a level 1 or 2, you can send in another ask :)

Also, the little sister is around twelve years old.

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Cody

This boy will always, always be there to take care of you.

You were his #1 priority when you were in foster care, and he grew more and more protective over you as time progressed because kids are cruel and someone was always mocking you or making fun of you. He isn't generally a confrontational person, but there were several moments he was beyond eager to break a nose or two.

He was the only one that ever truly concerned himself with helping you, and reading you, and making sure you were okay.

Now that the two of you live in a place where you're consistently surrounded by chaos and crude comments—the majority of which are aimed at you—those feelings have only gotten stronger. The individuals that usually torment you are Johnny, Zero, and even Masky, on occasion (though he never gets too extreme with it).

If you ever get overwhelmed with anything, Cody knows it instantly, and he'll pull you away from the commotion and try to calm you down. He's aware that you have to deal with things that stress you out, but he's right by your side to take your mind off of everything.

Toby

Since Lyra's gone, you are all that Toby has left. He understands being disabled and bullied for something he can't control, which is why he always went to vast lengths to ensure it never happened to you, at least not when he could stop it.

While Lyra grew up taking care of him, he grew up taking care of you. He didn't want Mom to send you to school when you got old enough, as he was all too knowledgable of what that would entail, but she was convinced it would be good to teach you how to socialize, push you past your barriers. He hated such an idea, but alas, she would not listen.

Toby was able to save you from the wrath of your abusive father, and he dragged you with him after the house had been set on fire, cause he wasn't going to just leave you alone.

He knows that your capabilities can be quite limited, so he picks up the slack for you. This makes him pretty busy often, but he doesn't care. He can't let anything happen to you; you mean far too much to him.

He's gentle and patient and caring toward you, and he won't accept any other treatment. When anybody messes with you, rest assured he has your back. He doesn't like getting violent while you're watching, but sometimes that's exactly what it comes to.

Respect and human decency are imperative when anyone communicates with you, and Toby won't have it any other way. You always tell him that you're okay, that he doesn't have to put so much of his time and effort into focusing on you, but he is forever persistent.

Having a comfort fic but also has the most gut wrenching angst to it as well is perfection

Hate MFS that do this😒

When I search up my favourite character x reader and see incest

𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐀 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄 - 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 [𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖]

This is a preview of my Creepypasta fanfiction 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐀 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄 on Quotev! If this piques your interest, you can check out the full story here. :)

Y/N was a sharp and resolute woman. She stood tall in her field of work. Ever since she was a little girl, she'd wanted to be a police officer. She always wondered what went on into criminals minds and what drove them to commit such violent crimes. Blood, death, and violence were her key interests as a child. It often scared others away from her, but it never tore her down. And as she grew, she found herself in the exact position she'd dreamt of.

Her new house stood as a symbol of fresh beginnings, a sanctuary she had recently moved into. Weeks had passed since she settled into the quiet neighborhood. She was quite happy with it. Everything was as normal and plain as plain can be. That was up until oddities began appearing. Strange sightings began to be whispered about. Then, disappearances, followed by brutal murders that shook everyone to their core.

The atmosphere became charged with tension, both among the residents and the law enforcement tasked with solving the heinous crimes. Y/N was taken by surprise just as much as everyone else had been. The chief was on her tail, as he was on everyone else's to figure out who was doing all of this. She could feel the weight of responsibility pressing down on her shoulders, the burden of unraveling the mysteries that unfolded before them. Throughout her career, she had faced a myriad of criminals, from petty thieves to rapists and rebellious teenagers. However, the presence of a murderer, especially a serial killer, was a rarity that sent chills down her spine.

Y/N found herself on edge, just like the rest of the community. She yearned to understand what was going on. Over time, more victims were discovered, each murder somehow, some way more violent than the last. One woman; Amybeth Merritt, a 37-year-old. She was discovered in her own bedroom, half naked and suspended on the wall with her hands nailed to the surface, her own intestines twisted around her neck like a noose. Her stomach appeared to be sliced open, her body adorned with countless lacerations. Her death was no doubt agonizing, not to mention untimely as her family continues to mourn.

And another, poor 22 year old Makayla Addams, found naked on her bed with nothing but a silk crimson blanket covering her body. It had been bitten into in various places; her neck, her hip, her thigh--even her most delicate areas. It's believed she had participated in consensual sexual activity prior to her death.

There have been no leads, nor any suspects. Whoever is doing this is clever and they likely won't be stopping any time soon.

Y/N found solace within the walls of her home office. Bathed in the soft glow of lamplight, the room emanated an air of security. The hushed whispers of the wind danced through the trees outside, a soothing melody that complemented the rhythmic scribbling of her pen on paper.

The office, her sanctuary, embraced her with its warmth and familiarity. The shelves, adorned with a vast collection of books, whispered tales of knowledge and wisdom. The dark oakwood desk, worn with time, bore witness to countless hours of dedication and determination. Its expansive surface was adorned with stacks of paperwork, neatly organized into boxes at the corners of the room, alongside other important items. As Y/N delved into the sea of documents, her focus unwavering, a sense of purpose filled the room. Each stroke of her pen carried weight, each decision made with meticulous care. The night seemed to envelop her, embracing the solitude and serenity that only the late hours could offer.

Outside her window, the moon cast a gentle glow, casting long shadows that danced across the floor. The wind rustled the leaves, a gentle reminder of the world beyond her office walls. In this stillness, Y/N's mind was clear, her thoughts sharp, as she navigated the complexities of her work.

Amidst the calmness of the night, Y/N's dedication burned bright. The night sky bore witness to her unwavering commitment to the pursuit of justice. And as she continued to toil into the early hours, the quietude of the night became a testament to her unwavering resolve. Despite all that had been unfolding outside, she felt safe and happy.

Suddenly, Y/N's head snapped forward at the abrupt sound of the doorbell. The pen she held in her hand found its place on the desk, carefully set down as she rose from her chair. With a swift motion, she pushed the chair back, causing it to spin momentarily before colliding with the edge of the desk. Curiosity tinged with a hint of caution danced in her eyes as she exited her office, her steps starting off awfully slow as she felt this feeling of foreboding wash over her for no real reason. One step after the other, she hurried over to the door. Each footfall echoed through the hallway, the silence broken by the soft shuffle of her shoes on the floor. Questions swirled in her mind, wondering who could be at her doorstep at such a late hour.

The hallway led her closer to the front door, anticipation building with each passing moment. She couldn't help but wonder about the possibilities that awaited her on the other side.

As Y/N reached the entrance, her hand reached out for the doorknob. She hesitated for a brief moment, her mind contemplating the potential risks of opening that door. She couldn't figure out why, but something was urging her to back away and stay inside. Alas, she didn't listen.

With a steady breath, Y/N turned the doorknob and swung open the door, the night air seeping into the threshold. Her eyes scanned the darkness, eventually moving down to the concrete step below her feet. There she was greeted with a large package. A plain light-brown box adorned with tape at the creases.

Her curiosity piqued, her warm eyes fixated on the unassuming box. Simple and worn, it held an untold secret within. With a mix of caution and anticipation, she picked it up, feeling its weight—light yet heavy with an unknown power.

Bringing the box inside her cozy home, a dimly lit foyer and a light presence welcomed her. Time seemed suspended, caught between suspense and the hunger for answers. Y/N placed the box on an aged wooden table, its surface bearing stories of the past. Quickly, she ventures off into the kitchen, fetching a pair of cooking scissors. She rushed back, pulling the box closer to her. With a calculated force, she drove the scissors into the top of the box, puncturing the tape and creating a starting point. Sensing the resistance give way, she swiftly withdrew her hand, allowing the tape to peel back and form a neat, precise slit. She drops the tool and uses her hands to tear the two cardboard folds apart, revealing a collection of mysterious jewel cases inside.

The detective couldn't help but furrow her brows, her gaze unable to pull away from the handful of DVDs. Beginning to wonder if she had opened someone else's package, she starts to feel almost regretful. There was no return address, or even a name on the box. But yet, she still felt as if something was terribly wrong.

Reluctantly, she reaches inside, wrapping her fingers around one of the clear cases. She squeezed it, pulling it back from the box. As the light reflected off of the surface, large words in what appeared to be black marker read; TAPE 1.

Y/N's curiosity compelled her to set the box aside momentarily and return to her office. With a purposeful stride, she crossed the threshold and made her way back to her desk. The familiar creak of the chair greeted her as she settled back down, pulling herself closer to the expansive dark oakwood desk. The jewel case rests in her hand, its contents beckoning with an air of mystery.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N's shaky hand tightened on the jewel case, her fingertips tracing the smooth surface. With a deft motion, she released the clasp and lifted the lid, revealing the gleaming CD nestled inside. Its mirrored surface caught the dim light of her office, adding an ethereal glimmer to the room.

Her eyes flicked to the small side button on the CD player built into her computer. Without hesitation, she pressed the button, hearing a satisfying click as the tray slid open. Gently, she placed the CD onto the tray, the metallic surface fitting perfectly within the grooves. With a soft push, the tray glided back into place, securing the CD within the confines of the computer.

As the CD player whirred to life, anticipation coursed through Y/N's veins. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

The video player on her computer screen flickered to life, a small loading icon spinning in the center. Her heart raced with as she leaned forward, tapping her finger nervously on the desk all while she rested her free hand at the bottom of her jaw. The tension hung in the air, as palpable as the tension that gripped her.

Time seemed to stretch as the loading process dragged on, the progress bar advancing sluggishly. Y/N's impatience grew, her finger tapping faster on the desk. The video player appeared to stutter, almost glitching at times, adding to her mounting frustration.

Unable to bear the slow progress any longer, Y/N pushed herself up from her chair and made her way to the kitchen. She needed a momentary distraction to ease her restlessness. Quietly, she filled the kettle with water and set it on the stove. As the water over time came to a boil, Y/N prepared a cup of tea, carefully selecting her favorite blend. The fragrant steam wafted upwards, enveloping her senses. With the cup cradled in her hands, she took a moment to collect herself, savoring the warmth and aroma.

Even as she sipped her tea, Y/N's mind remained fixated on the video waiting to be watched. The lure of the unknown beckoned her back to her office, hoping that it must be loaded up on the screen by now.

Balancing the cup of tea in her hands, Y/N made her way back to her office, the warm ceramic radiating comfort against her palms. She carefully sat down in her chair, setting the cup on a coaster beside her. Heaving a sigh of hope, she directed her attention back to the computer screen.

To her relief, the video loaded, a peculiar thumbnail appeared, its image distorted and unclear. Excitement washed over her, before replacing itself with a sense of confusion. Y/N squinted, trying to make out the details, but it seemed intentionally messy, like a sepia-filtered photograph with streaks of red liquid cascading along the bottom. The sight puzzled her, the abstract pattern and intensity of saturation leaving her with more questions than answers.

Curiosity mingled with a touch of unease as she questioned the nature of the video she was about to watch. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was making a serious mistake. She began having second thoughts as she rested her hand over the mouse, biting her lip. Perhaps she should put the CD back in the box? Bring it to her team? So many ideas, so many queer thoughts. The image teased at her senses, its cryptic appearance fueling her further.

Unable to take the mental torture any longer, she gives in.

"Ah, what the hell—"

THRU THE LOOKING GLASS

•°. *࿐ քʀօʟօɢʊɛ ➻

.·:*¨༺ 𝘼 𝙂𝙖𝙯𝙚 𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙒𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙙༻¨*:·.

Thru The Looking Glass is a creepypasta x f! reader fanfic I started writing months ago but only just now published. Now, I'm here to do the same for this silly little site! Warnings and story under the cut.

WARNINGS: This story contains content that may not be suitable for any of my younger followers. This story contains heavy depictions of gore, violence, murder, death, abuse, childhood abuse, SA, derealization, mental health issues, and other topics. + my over the top writing (oops)..This is a more realistic approach while also having fun with it. I needed something new to work on while I go about with my other stories.

word count: 5,722

summary: In this OC-worthy tale of horror and pain, we follow the story of Y/N, a young woman whose life has been shattered by tragedy and abuse. Haunted by hallucinations and plagued by violent outbursts, Y/N is trapped in a cycle of torment, unable to escape the clutches of her controlling and abusive father. A retired doctor with a zealot's faith, he subjects his daughter to a range of experimental treatments in his quest to purge her of demons that he believes have sought refuge in her pure form.

As Y/N struggles to retain her grip on reality, wonderland and real life alike, she must unravel the thick web of her father's madness, and reclaim her identity before it's too late.

A large building loomed over the street, its windows black and empty. The darkness outside was all-encompassing, the kind that seeps into your bones and fills you with a deep sense of dread. The wind howled like a wounded animal, rattling the windows in their frames and sending shivers down the spines of anyone brave enough to venture out. The streetlights flickered sporadically, casting an eerie glow over the empty sidewalks. There was no sign of life, no sound except the wail of the wind. It was a ghost town, a place where nightmares come to life. And for Y/N, it was hell.

Y/N stumbled into her old cramped bedroom, her heart hammering in her chest. She locked the door behind her, feeling a fleeting sense of safety. But the feeling was fleeting indeed, as the dark room seemed to close in on her. The vintage wallpaper, once vibrant and lively, now peeled and faded, hung like a veil of sadness around the room. The creaky floorboards groaned in protest beneath her feet, as if they too shared her burden.

She let out a ragged sigh and collapsed onto her bed, her limbs feeling heavy and uncooperative. The mattress, worn and lumpy, offered no comfort, and she winced as fresh pain shot up from the bruises on her arms and legs. Her eyes, swollen and red from tears, took in her surroundings: the small desk and chair, both rickety and unsteady, pushed up against one wall; a dresser with a chipped mirror in the opposite corner; and the twin-sized bed with a faded floral bedspread, now more depressing than cheerful. The room was still and quiet, save for her ragged breaths that echoed off the walls. It felt like a prison, and she was the only inmate.

Soft eyes slowly opened to the sight of an unfamiliar space, filled with nature and elegant wildlife. The plush bed she lied in was covered with a down comforter and fluffy pillows, the area's furnishings exuding a timeless charm. A vintage dresser with an ornate mirror stood high, while a side table held a delicate antique lamp that cast a warm glow that seemed to produce a warm barrier of protection despite its irrelevancy,  the sunlight covering the wooded area with a blanket of warmth. She could recognize these items as her own, however they seemed to look brighter. They looked as if she had just gotten them. As she sat up, Y/N felt a soft breeze settle against her skin, rustling the trees--almost like a nurturing embrace from mother nature.

She looked out into the forest beyond, where the trees stood tall and majestic, their leaves a riot of colors in shades of green, red, orange, and gold. The forest was kind of quiet, yet alive with the soft sounds of chirping birds and other forms of wildlife. There was an atmosphere of mystery and enchantment within this queer place. She looked around, noticing she wasn't in her bedroom, or even in a building. Her bed, the dresser and the table were placed in the middle of a plethora of trees in which surrounded her, a long, endless pathway splitting feet away. Curious, the young woman pulled the covers over her side, kicking her legs over the bed as she further took in her surroundings.

She shivered as she stood up, the lace at the bottom of her nightgown flowing with the breeze that swept over her body. She took a deep breath, the scent of damp earth and crisp leaves filling her lungs. The forest seemed to stretch out endlessly, the trees towering over her like sentinels. The ground was soft beneath her feet, the fallen leaves cushioning her every step. She wondered how she'd gotten here, and why she was in the middle of a forest. The last thing she remembered was falling asleep in her own bed, her father's voice echoing in her mind. Here she is now, surrounded by the beauty of nature. She felt a sense of calm wash over her, a feeling she hadn't experienced in a long time. In this moment, a blurry cloud filled her mind. All she knew were the sights before her.

As she looked around, she noticed something strange. Moving along the brown trail, she began to see dolls. These dolls hung by thread, some even from rope with a tight loop around their necks, creating a noose. They were a mixture of old and new, ranging from simple cloth dolls to elaborate porcelain ones. The closer she looked, the more she realized that some of the dolls had an uncanny resemblance to her. Most were in one piece, while there were also random doll parts such as heads and legs, swinging with the wind.

She continued, the dolls on the branches seeming to multiply as she walked further. Some of them were cracked and broken, their once beautiful, fresh features now twisted and corrupted. The air grew colder, and the sky turned from a calming blue to a deep, foreboding red. The trees themselves began to ooze from their trunks, a mysterious liquid easing into the forest floor. This liquid was rich and thick, possessing a deep shade of red, matching the sky. Y/N could feel her heart sink as that calming feeling dissolved, replaced with a painful twist in her stomach.

The dolls seemed to come alive, their heads turning to watch her as she passed by. Their once happy faces twisted into expressions of anger and disgust, their eyes seeming to follow her every move. The path became more treacherous, the ground uneven and full of roots and rocks. Y/N stumbled, her foot catching on a branch and sending her tumbling to the ground. As she picked herself up, she noticed a doll lying on the ground next to her. It was cracked and its eyes were closed. Its skin was pale and its hair was tangled, a familiar red liquid oozing from the creases of its broken cheeks. She rushed away from it, stumbling as she made her way deeper into the infinite amounts of trees.

Y/N felt like she had been wandering for hours, the path ahead of her only seeming to stretch further. The forest grew darker as she pressed on, the sky overhead seeming to darken its hue. The once tranquil sounds of nature had been silenced. It was quiet. Too quiet.

She stumbled upon a clearing, the ground beneath her feet soft and spongy. She looked around, noticing that the trees here were different from the rest, their bark gnarled and twisted. As she stepped forward, a voice suddenly spoke from the shadows, causing her to jump in surprise.

"Who are you? What brings you to my domain?"

The voice boomed, deep and menacing. Y/N looked around frantically, trying to locate the source of the voice. She saw a large wolf-like animal standing before her, its coat a deep red with a black mane and tail. Its glossy white eyes glinted in the dim light, and its sharp teeth were bared in a grin that sent shivers down her spine. The dog took a step forward, its powerful muscles rippling under its sleek fur. Y/N couldn't help but feel both confused and unsettled by the sight of the creature. It was like no other canine she had ever seen, and the way it spoke only added to her confusion

"I-...I appear to be lost," she stammered, her heart pounding in her chest.

The dog stepped closer, its eyes seeming to glow in the darkness as it revealed itself further from within the trees. "Lost, you say?" it hissed, its breath hot against her face. "Perhaps I can help you find your way."

Y/N took a step back, unsure of whether to trust this hound. But with no other option and a clouded mind, she nodded.

The hound turned around and began to walk, its massive form barely making a sound as it moved through the forest. Y/N hesitantly followed, her senses on high alert as the silence around them grew deafening. The once beautiful trees now looked twisted and gnarled, their branches stretching out like long fingers. The ground was littered with fallen leaves and broken twigs, and the red hue of the sky made the forest appear even darker.

As they walked, Y/N couldn't shake off the feeling that she was being watched. Every now and then, the hound would pause, as if sensing something that she could neither see nor hear. She shuddered, feeling as if the forest was closing in around her.

Her head was spinning, and the scent of blood grew stronger, overwhelming her senses. She felt her stomach churn, and a wave of dizziness washed over her. Something felt terribly wrong about this place. Just then, the hound stopped in his tracks. He turned his head, and Y/N watched as he silently dissolved away into a mist. The mist surrounded her, and she was left standing alone in the darkness. She couldn't see her own hands in front of her face, and the smell of blood was suffocating. The mist, thick and ethereal, stretched out before her, obscuring her vision like the veil of a widow.

"Hell- Hello?" She croaked in a small voice, seeking out for her new friend. Where could he have gone?

She pressed on, eventually giving up. Determined to find her way out., time seemed to blur as she walked, her senses stuffed with cotton. After what felt like forever, she began to notice the mist was starting to clear. In time, she found herself deeper in the dim-lit forest. The sun, barely visible through the dense canopy of towering trees, cast fragmented rays of light that danced upon the forest floor. The air was heavy with the earthy scent of rain, hinting at the recent downpour that had bathed the woods.

As Y/N ventured deeper, the bark of the trees became darker and more weathered. Their branches reached out like gnarled fingers, seemingly whispering secrets to one another. Shadows played tricks on her eyes, making it difficult to discern the true path ahead. Despite the sickening feeling inside, Y/N's building fight or flight sent her forward. She yearned for the warmth of sunlight on her skin, or better yet, to find herself entangled in the covers of her thick blanket in her own bed. The mist persisted, swirling around her like a cloak, but she refused to be once again consumed by it again.

A sense of relief washed over her as she found herself in the presence of this quieter, more secluded part of the forest. The soft filtered sunlight offered a flickering respite from the shadows. The air was gentle and easy on the senses, scents of rainwater and fresh grass replacing the stomach-churning scent of blood. It felt familiar, comforting. But as moments turned into minutes, a growing unease crept back into Y/N's consciousness. It started as a prickling sensation at the nape of her neck, an instinctual warning. She strained her ears, trying to decipher any peculiar sounds within the natural symphony of the forest.

Suddenly, a faint snap shattered the growing atmosphere of ease. Y/N's head snapped in the direction of the noise, gasping involuntarily. Her eyes darted through the dimly lit surroundings, searching for the source, but all she saw were dancing shadows and swaying branches. It was as if the forest itself played tricks on her, taunting her, keeping its secrets hidden from view. A shiver raced down her spine, casting a chill in the air. The forest, of which was peaceful and quiet, now seemed to become more ever twisted than before. Y/N quickened her pace, fear fueling her steps. She refused to be consumed by fear or doubt. All she wanted was to get home.

She pressed forward, her eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of danger. She knew she had to keep going, as the answers she sought lay somewhere within the heart of the trees. A darkness loomed in her mind, urging her to turn back, but she refused. Guided by a glimmer of hope that rested deep within her trauma-trenched soul, she ventured deeper, making sure to follow each step of the path that only seemed to stretch further and further, edging her with the chance of safely finding her way.

The world around Y/N felt as though it had ceased to exist beyond the immediate circle of shadows and rustling leaves. Every nerve ending tingled with an acute awareness of impending ruin. As she strained her senses to decipher the source of the sounds, she felt herself submerged in overwhelming dread. It was an inexplicable dread, one that didn't just linger in the air but seeped into her flesh and clawed its way into her core. Then there was a smell. The stench intensified—a putrid mixture of decay and coppery undertones—coiling around her like a serpent. 

Feeling sick to her stomach, Y/N couldn't bear to move. Her mind raced with fearful thoughts. Was it a wild animal? Was it a corpse?

A twig snapped with a crisp sound, closer this time. Y/N's heart lurched into her throat, rendering speech and movement impossible. The forest seemed to hold its breath, the silence now an unbearable weight pressing on her shoulders. She strained to pinpoint the origin of the noises, but the darkness thwarted her efforts, rendering everything beyond a few feet an empty abyss. Each and every second felt like an eternity, as if time itself had chosen this moment to stretch and distort. Her breaths came in shallow gasps, the cold air burning her lungs. The once comforting rustle of leaves became a taunting chant, mocking her. Daring her to move.

Summoning every ounce of energy and courage she could possibly find, Y/N willed herself to move, to break free from the shackles fear had locked on her fragile limbs. But her limbs felt heavy, unresponsive, as if held by an unseen force. The forest seemed to converge upon her, the trees closing ranks, confining her within them. Desperation clawed at her chest as she fought against the panic threatening to consume her entirely. She had to escape, had to find a way out before whatever lurked in the never ending darkness closed in on her. But with each passing moment, the forest's malevolence seemed to intensify, never ceasing to remind her she wasn't alone. 

She slowly brings her leg to push forward, taking a step. She slowly rested her foot upon the dirt trail, like a child sneaking into the kitchen to find their way to the cookie jar. With a shallow exhale, she pushes her body forward, gently resting her other foot beside her left. Although tense, she seemed to relax, convincing herself if she were quiet, she wouldn't startle whatever it was that had desired to make itself known. In the thick shroud of the oppressive darkness, just before she was about to take another step, a queer and haunting clicking noise pierced through the silence, sending shivers down Y/N's spine. It was a sound that liquidated explanation—a disconcerting blend of a whine and the creak of an old, rusted door. The unsettling cry echoed around her, the trees seeming to tremble in fear.

She kept still. Nothing. She then took a few hesitant steps forward, her pulse thundering in her ears, each beat she felt in her flesh. But as her foot grazed the forest floor, convinced she would make it out, a sudden, heart-wrenching cry shattered that hope. It was a mournful sound, tinged with an unbearable sadness that clawed at the deepest parts of her soul (not to mention her ear drums). The cry seemed to emanate from the same entity, the trees now beginning to literally shake in shared anguish of the young woman.

Y/N's steps faltered, her breath hitching in her throat. Despite her fear, she felt a surge of empathy flood through her—a strange connection to the mournful sound from what could have been an injured animal. Her heart ached, entwined with the dread that held her. As if in response, the darkness seemed to coalesce, thickening around her. The forest itself seemed to draw even closer, pressing in on her from all sides.

She strained to discern any movement. But the more she strained herself, the more the shadows seemed to morph and shift, concealing whatever lurked just beyond her line of sight. Time seemed to warp and twist, elongating the moments into an eternity of psychological torture. The air around her crackled with an otherworldly tension, growing bitter and cold. Her every muscle tensed, ready to bolt at the slightest provocation. Yet, she found herself stuck by some force, held captive by an invisible barrier.

The cry echoed once more, only this time, it was closer. It was as though the injured creature sought solace in her presence.

She wanted so badly to run. A foreboding sensation crept up her spine, adding on to the building tension, causing her muscles to tense, locking themselves up so tight it was nearly painful. Her eyes widened in alarm, the adrenaline urging her to move, to flee. Yet, her strength allowed her only to do the bare minimum—a cautious, subtle glance, an attempt to discern the source of her dread without confronting it head on.

Slowly, her gaze shifted, almost sidelong, toward the space behind her. She dared not make direct eye contact, fearing whatever it was that lurked from behind. Her heart pounded furiously, echoing in her ears like a funeral drum, while her throat ran dry. The air was freezing by now. She felt as if she could get frostbite, feeling nips on her fingers and her bare toes, rendering her limbs tremulous and her breaths shallow. The clicking sound persisted, as the creature crept in from behind her. 

An ache spread within her skull as she tried to catch a glimpse of what it was, only met with moving twig-like parts, what she could only assume to be arms. Her vision was obscured, offering mere glimpses of disjointed blotches. She discerned the unsettling silhouette of blotchy limbs, strange colors melded together. The creature's form appeared surreal, an amalgamation of beige tainted with splotches of crimson that resembled dried blood, twisted in abstract patterns across its strange horror-novel-esque frame.

Her breath hitched as she briefly caught sight of its torso—a bony structure, taut around its ribs, adorned with protruding spikes that seemed to glisten in the faint dim source of light. The sight sent her fear into overdrive, a primal instinct warning her of imminent danger. And then, she thought she saw its face—or what could pass for one. Black voids for eyes seemed to peer into the depths of her own, unnerving in their emptiness, devoid of any emotion or life. A hole of a mouth gaped open, revealing jagged, serrated teeth that protruded like sharp daggers.

In the shifting darkness, her gaze traced what she could only assume were its arms—twig-like appendages that moved sinuously. They were twisted and unnaturally long. The creature appeared to be tall, taller than her, and for its arms, hooked at the very edge where its hand would be, to touch the ground, she realized this was no wild animal. Y/N's mind reeled at the sight, grappling with the horrifying reality that stood before her—she was in a nightmare. She was in hell.

In her mind she screamed at herself to run before it was too late. Yet she still couldn't. Her bones felt fragile, as if the weight of her fear could shatter them into a million shards. She stood, transfixed by terror, caught between the compulsion to confront the creature and the overwhelming urge to book it. Straining her senses, specifically her sight and her hearing, caused her physical damage as she snapped her gaze back ahead, shutting her eyes tightly. 

Suddenly, her ears began to ring. It numbed the back of her eyeballs while also sending a sharp pain through them. Instinctively, Y/N throws her hands up to her ears in attempts to blocking out the noise. She's unsure of whether or not that was the extra push she needed, but regardless, she found herself running. Her joints were unlocked, each movement swift and fluid. She just kept running, running through the dark, the tips of her fingernails digging into the sides of her head. She could feel herself scratching her hair follicles, digging into her skin as her faced scrunched in agony. She didn't dare open her eyes just yet, allowing her legs to carry her wherever they ended up. 

In a sudden burst of light, a flash erupted from the depths of the forest. The light filtered through her eyelids, nearly blinding her as they shot open. She could feel herself stumble back, completely caught off guard. She stood there, head darting around the area. She found her footing light and her breath heavy, heart racing as she tried to process it all at once. It was as if the world around her transformed, and she found herself in a clearing bathed in filtered sunlight. The forest gave way to a serene oasis, where the gentle sounds of rustling leaves and distant birdsong filled the air. Y/N took a moment to absorb her surroundings, her senses recalibrating to this sudden peace. The trees, though still towering and ancient, now seemed to share a quiet wisdom rather than wicked darkness and sheer terror. The ground beneath her feet felt soft and mossy, inviting her into a haven of comfort and warmth.

Every ounce of unease and fear slowly but surely began to melt away as she calmly strolled through. All of this was too much—all she wanted was to go home. Perhaps it's this way? 

It was fairly uneventful, her journey. She would take occasional twists and turns, following the path etched into the dirt that was awfully gentle on the skin of her bare feet. In this strange contrast to the previous forest, Y/N wandered along the winding paths, enveloped in its atmosphere of charm. The vintage allure of the surroundings added a familiar home-like touch to the scene. Oil-lit street lamps cast a warm, golden glow, illuminating the path as if guiding her through a bygone memory. The air was filled with fluttering butterflies, their vibrant wings painting the air with kaleidoscopic hues.

As she ventured deeper, she was swarmed with curious sights that felt oddly enchanting. Hanging delicately from branches were dolls, but not suspended by rope around their necks as she had seen before. Instead, they dangled by slender pastel and rich-colored ribbons tied around their wrists, and sum even by the cuffs of their blouses and shirts, their porcelain faces serene yet haunting in their stillness.

Elegant decorations adorned the foliage, ornate carvings and nostalgic old trinkets nestled amidst the tapestry. It felt like a stroll through a forgotten memory, deep within the core of her mind, where time stood still.

However, as she tip-toed further along the trail, the ambiance began to shift once more. The air dropped, becoming cooler, and the light dimmed ever so slightly as if a cloud had passed over the sun. A peculiar sensation settled over her, a feeling that she wasn't alone. It wasn't all that threatening, however. Strange noises began to merge within the symphony of the forest. Heavy footsteps echoed in the distance, accompanied by laughter that seemed to reverberate from somewhere unseen. Intrigued, while also apprehensive, Y/N couldn't resist the urge to investigate.

The noises grew closer, drawing her towards the edge of the path where it abruptly ended. Peering around the corner, she encountered an inexplicable sight—a fuzzy distortion, as if the fabric of reality blurred before her eyes. Through the haze and the surrealistic feeling she felt brewing inside of her, she captured glimpses of an odd scene—a pair of dark pants, knives glinting in a faint light. She strained her senses, having recovered from earlier, picking up what she could only discern into screams. They were faint and muffled, though, before she could hear something more. A low, infernal growl, or was it a groan? It settled into her ears, bringing a physical sense of warmth over her, however it wasn't anything positive.

Splashes of crimson caught her attention, vivid against the strange blurry backdrop. Then, from the distorted void, something popped itself forward, its head emerging through the blurry portal, locking eyes with hers. Y/N gasped, her breath catching in her throat.

Without a second thought, she turned and fled, her heart pounding in terror. She ran aimlessly, jumping over twigs and large rocks, completely disregarding the rest of the trail that seemed to go in many directions until, by sheer chance or fate, she nearly ran into a rusted brown door reminiscent of the one in her bedroom. It rested, open just a crack. Without hesitation, she yanked the doorknob back and leaped through, the metallic clang echoing behind her as she slammed it shut.

She had practically jumped into the open space, and her body went rigid, her muscles tensing on impact. But instead of the anticipated collision with a harsh surface, she found herself sinking into something soft, almost cushion-like. Confusion began to cloud her fear as her hands met the padded interior of what seemed to be a room. Her movements were sluggish, almost as if she were submerged in water, every action a struggle against unseen resistance. Crawling on hands and knees, she blinked repeatedly, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dim, eerie glow that emanated from the sparse lighting in the room.

A solitary window perched high above caught her attention, moonbeams casting soft shadows across the room. The faint glow of moonlight offered her some kind of comfort. At least she wasn't in a ditch somewhere. The light, guiding her unsteady steps towards the distant window, felt kind of warm compared to the awfully cold air that nipped at her skin. Disoriented and off-balance, she stumbled, her senses still reeling from the transition.

As she approached the window, her hands brushed against the padded walls, seeking stability. She raised her gaze, fixating on the distant glimmer of the moonlight filtering through the solitary window.

Fumbling and uncertain, she traced the contours of the walls with her hands, feeling the padded surface in an attempt to ground herself. But before she could fully process her surroundings, a sound—a shuffle, perhaps footsteps—outside the door snapped her attention away. Her breath hitched as she stared at the door, her heart thundering in her chest. The faint glimmer of light danced across the space as a slider on the door moved, revealing only a pair of eyes peering in at her. They glinted with curiosity, holding her gaze in a silent exchange.

Y/N's mind raced with questions, her mouth parting as if to speak, yet no words came. A chill crept down her spine as a surge of apprehension washed over her. Her hand involuntarily pressed against the padded wall, seeking a false sense of security as she struggled to comprehend the oddity of her situation. 

Y/N watches intently as the person on the other side of the door turns the knob, the hinges creaking as it swings open. A blinding light spills into the room, causing Y/N to instinctively avert her gaze and squint against the sudden brightness. Slowly, her eyes adjust to the illumination, allowing her to steal a side glance at the figure that stood just at the doorway.

Recognition flickers across Y/N's mind as she discerns the person before her—a woman with fair skin and ginger hair elegantly tied up with swept, fluffy parted bangs. Despite the strangeness of the situation, she notes the woman's attire—a surgeon's uniform—with a mask loosely hanging under her chin. However, the most startling detail catches Y/N off guard—the absence of the woman's eyes. Instead, there's an unnerving expanse of smooth, featureless skin where her eyes should have been.

Confusion mingles with disbelief in Y/N's thoughts. She blinks repeatedly, hoping to dispel this surreal image that feels like a figment of her imagination. Her mind races with questions, her mouth opening as if to voice her bewilderment, yet still, she was silent.

Desperately seeking some form of reassurance, her hand instinctively presses against the padded wall behind her, though it offers no comfort against the unsettling reality she's confronted with. In a state of disbelief and growing unease, Y/N froze. Her eyes were wide, eyebrows high. She felt so cold, despite the warmth that spilled into the room from the other side. The woman's plump, glossy pink lips held a cigarette. She seemed confused, arms crossed as she leaned on her hip. A dent formed in which her eyebrows were meant to be, as if she was contemplating how this stranger got here. 

For an eternal moment that feels suspended in time, Y/N remains frozen, unable to process the nightmarish sight before her. Yet, as she blinks, a sudden change unfolds. The woman, initially standing at the door, now leans in, her hands extending around the doorframe as her body seems to elongate. Her foot juts forward as if ready to step inside, but something is different.

The woman looms taller, her head protruding into the room, and a ghastly grin spreads across her face, her jaw extended to an inhumane rate. Y/N's horrified gaze fixates on a single, glistening eyeball resting upon the woman's tongue. The eye seems to fixate directly on Y/N, the same tint of amber from the slider on the door. Unable to contain her ever-growing (and never ending, it seems) fear, Y/N chokes up, her breath catching in her throat, a primal instinct compelling her to scream. But before the scream could tear from her throat, the woman, now twisting her body with a series of bone-cracking sounds, begins to crawl into the padded room. Her movements contort unnaturally as if defying the laws of physics, each bone-crunching twist amplifying the discomfort building in the atmosphere.

The cigarette that dangled from the woman's lips moments ago falls, landing on the padded floor. Strangely, it doesn't extinguish upon impact but continues to burn, creating a sizzling sound against the padded surface. The acrid scent of burning material adds to the sensory overload of the scene before the innocent woman, feeling herself begin to slip from the fingers of reality. If, that's what you could call this.

As the woman morphs further, her form distorts into something incomprehensible. The room seems to warp around her, shadows elongating and contorting with her every movement. The mask that rested underneath her chin disintegrated, along with her fair skin that seemed to burn away in Swiss-cheese like patterns until patches of the meat and muscle became apparent, her skin just barely hanging on. Her hair seemed to thin and fall out, while the cap dissolved, the faint sound of cracking bones intermingles with a low, guttural growl emanating from the creature, now towering over Y/N, its jaw hanging for its eye to continue to stare down upon her. 

It drew nearer, emitting a stomach-churning odor of decaying flesh and bone and blood that overwhelmed her senses. Tears welled in her eyes, her brows and lip quivering as she recoiled, attempting to move as far back as possible while the creature advanced. In the depths of its mouth, its eye swiveled around, a soft clicking resonating through its towering form. Y/N's fingers dug into the wall behind her, desperately seeking something to hold onto.

"N—No. . ." A feeble protest escaped her parched throat, the words torn from her with the anguish of a thousand blades slicing through her vocal cords.

"NO!" A shriek tore from her throat, a mix of revulsion and fury contorting her face as she glared up at the creature.

Sliding down the wall in a final attempt to escape, she scrambled to the corner of the room. Only upon huddling up into the corner and snapping her gaze toward where the creature would have been did she realize that it was gone. The overpowering stench that had made her wanna hurl had dissipated, leaving a heavy silence in the air.

Reluctantly, Y/N lowered her gaze, turning her attention to the woman by the door. Standing with arms at her sides, instead of moving forward, she was stepping back. Her wide amber eyes shook with fear, her cigarette burnt to the butt, a small mound of ashes on the cold floor beneath. Her skin remained intact, her entire form unaltered. If anything, she seemed just as terrified as Y/N. Before Y/N could comprehend what just had happened, the woman forcefully shut the door, the lock clicking into place. Breathing heavily, Y/N was left in her confusion. She squeezed her eyes shut, the sounds of heavy footsteps and soft creaking floorboards settling into her ears, the light fading away, dominated by the darkness.

For a while, the world remained distant, her mind a jumble of fragmented thoughts and sensations before it all began to slip away. She felt herself floating, while she began to feel her limbs spread underneath a warm, familiar fabric. The creaking of the floorboards continued, accompanied by the gentle click of an opening door. Then, a soft breath caressed her ear, and a delicate touch brushed against a strand of her hair. She froze, every muscle tensing as a gentle hand continued, tenderly stroking her hair. As the fingers trailed down the strand, Y/N remained motionless, her body unresponsive. A voice, momentarily unfamiliar, deep and paternal, settled through her eardrums like melted butter.

"It's time for your medicine, my dear," the man's voice resonated softly, hardly above a whisper.

A Night To Remember | Ticci Toby Oneshot

HI! I hope you enjoy this fic! This is my first time writing for Toby and my first fic post here! I'm sorry if this feels out of character in anyway, I'm still working on how I want to portray him!

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In times like this, you have to think to yourself, “What the fuck did I do to get here?” And the answer to that question is relatively simple; it's not what you did to get here, it's what other people did to get you here. Specifically, it's what your creepy-ass roommate did to get you both here. 

Where is here exactly though? Well to answer that lovely question, here is attempting to bury a body in the middle of the woods at 3:57 am. This was honestly not what you were expecting to be doing on your night off from work but you can’t go back now. Not when you had already killed your roommate. Oh did I forget to mention you had killed your roommate?

It wasn’t your fault at all, it really wasn’t. You couldn’t control the fact that you woke up to your roommate standing at the foot of your bed watching you sleep, knife in hand. Blame it on the tiredness but you just couldn’t control yourself when you saw that, and you admittedly let your anger get the best of you. You hadn’t even realized what you were doing until you had already choked the… well you wouldn’t say poor man out. 

Every sign pointed to the fact that you might be crazy, but you weren’t crazy. At the least, you were way too calm about this situation. You seemed to be learning many new things about yourself tonight. Like the fact you were strong enough to choke someone out, or like the other fact you were way less guilty than you probably should've been. Maybe reevaluating yourself after all of this was over would be the best plan.

The sound of a branch snapping freezes you in place. You're like a deer in the headlights. You dart your eyes around trying to find the source of the sound but come up empty. Not knowing whether to run or not, you just stay there frozen. Someone had seen you and you're probably royally fucked. There was no way they wouldn’t tell the police. Your genius plan of hiding the body and reporting him missing in a couple of days was rapidly falling apart in front of you.

Footsteps could be heard to the right of you. Whipping your head in that direction you make eye contact with a guy who was a bit taller. Upon seeing your frightened face he grabbed his stomach and hunched over laughing. You were angered and slightly embarrassed by this and couldn’t help but yell out, “What’s so funny?” You tried to sound confident and calm but you kind of just sounded way more whiny than you wanted.

The man said nothing in response. Instead, he opted to laugh a bit more before gathering his composure. As his laughs died down you felt your face flush with embarrassment. What was this guy's problem? You wanted to give him a piece of your mind, but as soon as you went to speak you were cut off by him beginning to say something. “So this is your first time, huh?” He asked while walking closer to you. The stranger leaned down to get a closer look at your face. He was expecting an answer from you.

You took a large step back from him to create some distance. You wanted to yell at him, but all that came out was an exasperated, “What?” Who the fuck would phrase it like that? Apparently, this asshole does.  

He said nothing in response to your shouting. You watched him carefully as he made his next moves. He approached the body laying on the ground, lightly tapping at it with his foot. His head turned towards the shovel that lay on the ground a short distance off. “Yeah, you’ve def-definitely never done this before.” He started with a twitch of his neck followed by a clicking sound. “You’re lucky I showed up to help you or you’d be fuckin’ screwed.” He laughed, elongating the last word slightly. This guy was really starting to get on your nerves. 

He grabbed the shovel off the ground and put it between his backpack and his back. After making sure it was secure he turned back to look at you, “I’m Toby, by the way.” He stated before he reached down to grab the legs of your now former roommate. This was quite the turn of events. You hadn’t expected him to be enthusiastically helping you but he was, so you probably shouldn’t complain about it. 

You approached the other side of your roommate’s body and grabbed him under the shoulders. Looking forward at Toby, who was staring back at you as if waiting for you to say something. You realized he was probably waiting for you to give him your name so you guys weren’t just nameless strangers. Without another thought you offer him your name to which he nods in approval. 

With little word from each other, you head off in a direction carrying the body while Toby leads. You have little clue as to where you were going, but Toby seemed to know the forest pretty well. 

It was painfully silent for a while. The only sounds being made were the crickets, your footsteps, and the occasional clicks and small words that came from Toby. You figured he probably had a tic disorder and that it would be rude to question it, so you didn’t. 

Eventually, the silence became too much to bear and you had spent who knows how long racking your brain for something to say. You eventually settled on what was probably the most awkward thing for someone to say in a moment like this but that didn’t really matter. “So…” You started, catching Toby’s attention. “You do stuff like this often?” 

Toby laughed a little but this time it was different. He wasn’t particularly laughing at you. Well, he kind of was, but he was more so laughing at what you said. You still felt a bit embarrassed at your last statement. God, why were you so awkward? “To an-” His speech was quickly interrupted by his head slamming to the left side followed by a click. He let out an angry huff before continuing, “To answer your question, I kinda have a knack for these kinds of things.” He chuckled as though he was deeply proud of himself. 

The way he talked so casually about it freaked you out a bit. It wasn’t really normal to have such knowledge on hiding bodies nor was it normal to help someone you don’t know hide a body with such enthusiasm as he had. Like you were one to judge though when you were literally doing a piss-poor job of hiding a body. You were just going to dig a shallow hole, dump the body, and call it a night before he showed up. If anything, you should be thankful he showed up to help you and that he knew what he was doing. 

“That’s pretty cool.” You told him rather awkwardly before the pair of you fell back into silence. You didn’t really know what to say, and he wasn’t talking to you much either. Toby seemed focused on getting to your destination, so you didn’t want to bother him, lest you accidentally piss him off by saying the wrong thing.

Eventually, the dense woods turned into a small-sized clearing. Toby let go of his half of the body and looked to you expectantly, you got the point and let go yourself. “Okay,” He started with a clap, almost seeming excited for what was to come. “Drag the body over there and start digging a hole,” Toby pointed towards the middle of the clearing, “and I will g-gather what we need to get rid of it!” You could tell from his tone that he was likely smiling at whatever he was thinking, but you couldn’t see due to the mask covering his mouth. 

You didn’t argue with him though and did as you were told. You spent the next hour or more just digging while he zipped around grabbing sticks and branches then dropping them off beside you when he had a sizable bunch. You wished you had energy like his. 

At some point, Toby had sat his backpack down beside you and taken his jacket off before tying it around his waist. Maybe all this moving around was making him hot. It was at this moment you decided to look at him and get a good feel for his appearance. He wore a black turtleneck under his jacket, yellow goggles over his eyes, a mask over his mouth, dark-colored jeans, and boots. You couldn’t tell what the features of his face looked like due to all the coverings and the darkness, but you could tell he was rather pale with dark brown hair that looked quite soft. 

Honestly, you hadn’t even noticed that you had completely stopped shoveling to stare at him but he did and was staring right back at you. The both of you made eye contact and you moved your gaze to the ground with a flush on your face. You had to admit from what you had seen he did have a nice body and probably a nice face to match. To say you weren’t at least slightly attracted to him would be a lie but you also knew that nothing would likely come from hiding a body together. The two of you would probably go your separate ways and you’d never see him again. Besides, you did not know anything about this man other than the fact his name was Toby, and he had a lot of experience disposing of bodies. 

When you looked back he had gone back to gathering stuff to, what you assumed, burn the body with. What other reason would he be gathering sticks for? Fetch? Of course, you guys were burning the body.

Toby jogged back with another pile of sticks and dropped them on the ground. He leaned over the hole you had dug that was around the same length as your roommate and nodded in approval. “Looks good,” He said giving you a thumbs up. 

Toby threw the body into the hole with a bit of your help. “So, you start covering the body with sticks and shit, while I get to do the fun part.” He announced, turning his body towards you, waiting for your next move. You weren’t particularly happy that you had to do most of the work, but then again it was your kill and not his. His helping you out was more than worth some labor. 

Making haste, you piled the sticks on top of your poor, poor roommate’s dead body. You probably didn’t go as fast as Toby had hoped you would because he would soon start helping you out. With the help, you guys were able to get the task done relatively quickly. 

After you were done with the sticks you looked over at Toby, expecting him to give you new instructions or to just say anything. He was squatting on the ground digging through his overly full backpack, pulling random things out, and throwing them to the side. “I know it's fucking in here.” He hisses through his teeth, his anger barely contained. His tics seem to increase in frequency and severity the longer he searches which just makes him more irritated.

Toby seems to be getting more angry the longer he searches. “Um..” You’re looking around frantically when he whips his head around to look at you, obviously frustrated that you interrupted his almost hard-to-watch search in his backpack. “Are you okay?” You ask, your eyes settling on his piercing gaze through his goggles. You both just look at each other for a moment before his head violently jerks towards his shoulder. 

“I-I’m fine.” He snaps, looking away from you and returning his attention to his half-full backpack. He lets out a frustrated groan into his hands. You watch his next moves carefully as he grabs the bag by the bottom and just dumps its contents on the ground. That's one way to solve his problem.

Toby seems to become more content when he finds what he was looking for, which happened to be a can of lighter fuel. It was rather large and hard to miss, but you weren’t going to comment on that wanting to avoid another bad reaction. His rapid breathing slows as he calms down which makes you feel less worried about him. 

You approach him from the side and crouch down to help him put his stuff back into his bag. He nods his head at you but doesn’t say anything while you help him. To his right is a small pile of things that include lighter fuel and a couple boxes of matches. 

As you were picking stuff up you caught sight of a camera. Maybe that could help ease into conversation with Toby who hadn’t said much of anything all night. You wanted to know more about him and what was on his mind but you understood his obvious distrust of you. “You take pictures?” You asked, looking over at him with a small smile on your face, almost encouraging him to talk. 

Toby seemed to perk up some at your question and quickly looked over at you. He brought a hand to the back of his neck as he looked around awkwardly, his previous confidences seemingly buried at the mention of himself. “Yeah, sometimes… I mostly just take pictures of things I find interesting.” His tone was almost as awkward as his body language.

“That’s cool!” You smile at him, extending your hand to offer the camera. “What kind of things do you find interesting to photograph?” You ask. Toby takes the camera before standing, slinging the now full backpack over his shoulder, and offering you a hand up. 

Taking his hand, Toby pulled you up onto your feet. “Anyways, I take pictures of stuff like nature, food…” He pauses while looking around, “And y’know…my victims.” He laughs at his words, clearly amused by the fact.

Toby only seemed to become more amused at your facial expression. You hadn’t even realized you were pulling a face until he started laughing more. “Really?” He asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. “What’s with the shocked face? It’s not like you haven’t killed someone before,” He said, gesturing toward the hole. Even you had to admit that he did have a point. 

You didn’t know what to say back to him. You couldn’t argue in your defense because there was nothing to defend there, nor could you think of anything clever. So you fell back into an awkward silence of your creation. Good job on finding a conversation topic. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask.” Toby said in a rather nonchalant manner “Who is this guy? Like why’d you kill him?” He asked, curiosity laced through his voice. 

“He was my roommate, and he was always kind of a creep.” You said looking at Toby who just nodded, waiting for more information. “But I always thought he was harmless until he was standing over my bed with a knife.” You finished, hoping your answer satisfied him enough to move on.

Clearly, it didn’t because he began to ask you more questions, “Yeah, and then what happened?” You really didn’t want to go into this, but since he was helping dispose of him then you guessed you owed him some explanation.

“So I strangled him?” You said but it came out more like a question. As though you weren’t quite sure of your answer. It was still hard to wrap your head around the fact you had taken someone’s life.

Toby’s only response was to pull the mask covering his mouth down and spit onto the pile, “Fuckin’ pervert.” He mumbled, quickly returning his covering into place before you could see the other side of his face. From what you saw he was rather attractive, prompting you to wonder why he covered his face to begin with.

 You couldn’t help but laugh a little at the gesture which caught Toby’s attention. “Yeah, I can be pretty funny sometimes,” He said with a slight laugh in his voice, as though he wasn’t taking what he said fully seriously. This just made you laugh more. 

It was nice to laugh. It was the first time tonight you hadn’t felt completely stressed out about potentially getting caught. Having Toby helping you was quite the stress relief, and you felt as though a heavy weight was taken off your shoulders by his presence alone. You should probably thank him after all this was over. You wished there was some way to make it up to him for his help, but you guessed a thanks was really all you could do. It’s not like they made cards that said ‘Thanks for helping me bury a body!’ 

You were so lost in thought that you admittedly got startled when he placed a hand on your shoulder. In his other hand was the can of lighter fluid that was placed in front of you. “You wanna do the honors? I mean he is your kill, not mine so...” He shook the can a little after he spoke, wanting you to take it. 

You reluctantly took it out of his hands and began to splash the flammable liquid onto the pile, slowly circling it to make sure you had as much of the body covered as possible. You had begun to feel slight excitement for what was about to happen. It wasn’t every day you made a bonfire out of some creep. 

Taking your attention off your task, you look over at Toby who can barely stand still. He was picking at his fingers while bouncing slightly, unable to contain his excitement. Based on his behavior and the contents of his backpack, it would be safe to assume that he had a bit of a passion for fire. It was kind of cute, in a rather fucked up way.

Standing across from him on the other side of the body, you shook the final contents of the can out onto the body. Toby was still picking at his fingers when you cleared your throat. He then looked up at you. “Cans empty.” You said giving it a shake for emphasis. 

“Fuck yeah!” He practically yelled, grabbing a box of matches off the ground and waving you over. 

Taking your place beside him, he grabbed around 4 matches out of the box and prepared to strike them. “You ever smelt a burning body before?” He asked in a joking manner, looking down at you. 

 “Um... I can’t say that I have.” You stated, not really seeing the point of his question. Of course, you hadn’t smelt a burning body before. What normal person has? 

He clicked his tongue at that, “Well, it ain’t pleasant, so just be prepared and try not to breathe through your nose.” He patted you on the head twice after saying that which made you stiffen up. That was a bit weird but okay.

In one quick movement, he struck the matches quickly and out burst a small flame. You watched carefully as Toby extended his arm and dropped the matches onto the pile.

With a loud ‘fwoosh’ a raging flame bloomed into life. You could feel the heat tickle at your cheeks even at the safe distance the pair of you stood from. For a burning body, it was almost beautiful.

You noticed shuffling out of the corner of your eye, looking to see what was going on. You saw Toby pulling his goggles down to hang loosely around his neck. Probably to get a view of the fire that wasn’t tinted as yellow as his lenses were. 

Not being able to help but stare, you took note of his eyes. They were chestnut brown and the way the fire bounced off of them was mesmerizing. It was almost as though the fire provided life to his eyes and so did his excitement. He was rocking slightly back and forth as a way to, what you assumed, get his excess excitement out. 

It wasn’t long before Toby noticed you staring at him and just like earlier began staring back at you. His eyes lit up in amusement and he raised his eyebrows slightly before speaking, a smirk ever-present in his voice. You may have just inflated his ego. “See something you like, sweetheart?” He said in a serious voice but burst out laughing a minute later, completely unable to handle the bullshit that just spewed from his mouth.

“You should have seen the look on your face,” He wheezed out between laughs. You, on the other hand, were profusely blushing from both being flustered and embarrassed. It couldn’t have been that funny, but he seemed to find a lot of things you did amusing enough to laugh at. 

Toby was quick to gather himself and catch his breath before slinging an arm around your shoulder with a sigh. You stiffened at the contact but said nothing. His behavior around you was getting way more casual than you expected seeing as you spent a large chunk of the night in awkward silences filled with mostly nonverbal cues. 

You guess you didn’t mind the contact too much because you did nothing to break it. You were content with this in some odd way. Nothing about this was normal nor would it create a content feeling in any sane person. There was probably something deeply wrong with your psyche yet you couldn’t bring yourself to care about that much. You’d deal with that another day, but as of right now, you were having what was probably the weirdest, most thrilling experience of your life.

Toby cleared his throat and removed his arm from your shoulder, freeing you from the not-so-unwanted but also not really wanted contact. Your gaze met his and for a moment your heart fluttered. 

“So, you enjoying the show?” He asked sounding almost nervous for your answer. You just nodded in response averting your eyes from his. You missed when he had his goggles on, and you couldn’t see his stupid eyes too well. 

Toby took a knee, whipping his backpack off his shoulder before rifling through his bag and pulling out his camera. He zipped up the backpack and took a seat on the ground sitting criss-cross.

Toby looked up at you and patted the ground beside him as an invitation for you to sit down beside him. Making you wonder what he was up to, but without much question you sat down beside him. His body language read as nervous while he seemed to be mustering the courage to say something important. Quite different from his previously confident demeanor. 

“Co-could I take a picture of us?” He asked, looking at you with almost pleading eyes as false confidence wavered throughout his voice. The thought made you kind of nervous, what if someone got ahold of his camera and turned it over to the police? You both would get in deep trouble which is something you didn’t want at all. 

 “I promise no one will see it!” Toby blurted out rather quickly as though he knew what you were thinking. He was picking at his fingers once more while his head jerked again. He was probably as nervous as you were from asking you such a question. “I just don’t want to forget tonight,” He sounded almost sad as he spoke which made your heart clench a little.

What did you have to lose? Other than your freedom by creating more evidence of your crime but then again there was still a chance you wouldn’t get away. There was a lot that needed to happen before you were truly free of your crimes so again, what did you really have to lose by taking one picture? The answer was nothing. 

So with a soft sigh, you gave him your answer, “Fine, but only the one.” You said trying to be stern but a slight smile pulled at the corners of your lips. He seemed happy at your approval and started fidgeting with his camera, setting up to take the picture.

This whole situation was starting to feel quite funny to you. Here you were sitting on the ground with a serial killer, burning your roommate's dead body as the sun came up, and you were about to take a selfie with said serial killer so he can remember tonight. You let out a small chuckle at the thought which catches Toby’s attention briefly, but he looks away as quickly as he looked.

You’re ripped out of your thoughts by Toby wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer so you’d fit inside the camera screen. He puts his fingers that were resting atop your shoulder into a peace sign and you flash a smile at the camera. With a click and a flash the picture is taken, and Toby is looking down at his camera happily. 

“How’d it turn out?” You asked looking over at his camera but he hides it away from you. You shoot Toby a confused look but he just shrugs before stowing it away in his backpack. 

“Don’t stress, you looked cute” He laughs a little trying to sound confident but you could see the tips of his ears and cheeks were tinged in a soft pink. It took you a moment to register what he had just said to you. Did he just call you cute? You couldn’t help but blush a little at his words.

“Don’t worry, I’ll show you next time.” Next time? You sure as hell didn’t plan for there to be a next time of you hiding a body, but seeing him again did sound nice. 

Toby pushes himself up off the ground and adjusts his backpack properly onto his back. Once again he extends a hand towards you and you accept his offer for help. “What do you mean by ‘next time’? Are you expecting to hide another body?” You question him but he shrugs again.

“Y’know, next time we hang out.” He says as if it was a fact extending his hand out to you. In between his fingers was a small slip of paper with a number scrawled on it in messy but readable handwriting. It suited him. 

“You didn’t think I’d just let you go off by yourself right?” His question was less of a question and more of a statement. He was just saying stuff he thought should be obvious to you. “Also, it doesn’t have to be hiding a body. We can do whatever you want.” 

Your eyes darted across his face waiting for him to start laughing again like he was joking once more, but he didn’t laugh or show any sign of not being serious. “We like bonded and shit. You don’t just burn a body with someone and then never meet again.” He chuckled as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

You were stunned silent but he didn’t seem to care as he grabbed you by the wrist and started leading you in a direction, “Where are we going?” You asked, dragging slightly behind him. 

Toby stopped moving and turned around to face you, letting go of your wrist, “I’m taking you home. The woods aren’t safe for people who don’t know their way around here.” He started, observing your face for a moment before continuing. “Plus it gives us more time to hang out.” He admitted.

There it was, the real reason. He was quite the character that you had grown to enjoy being around over the last couple of hours. Maybe hanging out with him again wouldn’t be so bad. Toby took your silence as a response of understanding and began walking in the same direction he was leading you. 

The way home was filled with plenty of laughter and pleasant conversation between you and Toby. You never would have thought burning a body with someone would lead to such a strange yet genuine connection. The rational part of you screamed that becoming close to him would probably bring new, yet thrilling, situations that could put you in danger. You didn’t want to listen to the rational parts right now. You were more concerned with what your heart had to say. It ached for excitement, an excitement that only someone like Toby could bring. 

With a smile on your face, you grabbed his hand, hoping he wouldn’t mind too much. He looked over at you and just shook his head before interlocking your fingers together. 

<3

Thing that’s been in my head for a while:

Could you write about Toby meeting someone else with a tic disorder,? Male reader, please! Reader is also kinda of a romantic, he likes roses and other red things, like blood and hearts!

(This is kind of self-indulgent but shhhh it’s fine….)

Hi! Thank you for being my first request, I would absolutely love to write this for you! I hope I handled it to your liking! As someone who has a tic disorder this request kind of made me super happy and I had a lot of fun writing this!

Upon meeting you, Toby is instantly infatuated with the fact he’s met someone like him. I doubt he had met another person with tics before and meeting you makes him feel like he has someone who can understand him.

You two are like instant best friends and nearly impossible to separate from each other. Whenever he has free time from proxy work he is usually by your side. Before you even start dating, people already assume you are just from how much you are together. 

He would go out of his way to try and appeal to your romantic side. He’d bring you gifts in your favorite colors, stuffed animals, things that remind him of you, sweets, and obviously roses. Don’t ask where he gets some of this stuff as he is perpetually broke. He may go a bit overboard and leave shit like human hearts in places for you to find but he’s doing it out of love.

You make him feel comfortable enough to tic freely around because he won’t have to worry about any judgment that might come from other people. This is one of the things that made him really fall for you. It wasn’t just about the tics it was the fact you wouldn’t judge him, and he would do his best to provide that same comfort for you.

Be warned that your tics would probably bounce off each other and you’d pick up the other’s tics. He finds it strangely sentimental. For him it's like carrying a piece of you with him. If that makes sense.

When he eventually would ask you to be his boyfriend, he’d probably show up to your place with some sentimental gifts to give you and a handwritten letter describing his feelings for you cause he gets awkward/nervous expressing big feelings verbally. He’d be barely able to stay still/contain himself while you read it. He would probably end up blurting out his feelings for you halfway through you reading the letter.

If anyone ever said anything rude to you about your tics, he would probably kill them or just hurt them at the least. He doesn’t want you to feel insecure about your tics but he knows insecurities are hard to deal with. Afterwards he’d repeatedly reassure you that you're perfect the way you are.

For a first date, Toby might take you on a picnic in a secluded place in the woods. (Don’t worry he didn’t prepare the food.) I could see it being a specific part of the woods where he goes to decompress from stress and him showing you that place would be quite the show of trust for him. He is willing to let you see parts of his life nobody else can and you’re very special to him.

Thing that’s been in my head for a while:

Could you write about Toby meeting someone else with a tic disorder,? Male reader, please! Reader is also kinda of a romantic, he likes roses and other red things, like blood and hearts!

(This is kind of self-indulgent but shhhh it’s fine….)

Hi! Thank you for being my first request, I would absolutely love to write this for you! I hope I handled it to your liking! As someone who has a tic disorder this request kind of made me super happy and I had a lot of fun writing this!

Upon meeting you, Toby is instantly infatuated with the fact he’s met someone like him. I doubt he had met another person with tics before and meeting you makes him feel like he has someone who can understand him.

You two are like instant best friends and nearly impossible to separate from each other. Whenever he has free time from proxy work he is usually by your side. Before you even start dating, people already assume you are just from how much you are together. 

He would go out of his way to try and appeal to your romantic side. He’d bring you gifts in your favorite colors, stuffed animals, things that remind him of you, sweets, and obviously roses. Don’t ask where he gets some of this stuff as he is perpetually broke. He may go a bit overboard and leave shit like human hearts in places for you to find but he’s doing it out of love.

You make him feel comfortable enough to tic freely around because he won’t have to worry about any judgment that might come from other people. This is one of the things that made him really fall for you. It wasn’t just about the tics it was the fact you wouldn’t judge him, and he would do his best to provide that same comfort for you.

Be warned that your tics would probably bounce off each other and you’d pick up the other’s tics. He finds it strangely sentimental. For him it's like carrying a piece of you with him. If that makes sense.

When he eventually would ask you to be his boyfriend, he’d probably show up to your place with some sentimental gifts to give you and a handwritten letter describing his feelings for you cause he gets awkward/nervous expressing big feelings verbally. He’d be barely able to stay still/contain himself while you read it. He would probably end up blurting out his feelings for you halfway through you reading the letter.

If anyone ever said anything rude to you about your tics, he would probably kill them or just hurt them at the least. He doesn’t want you to feel insecure about your tics but he knows insecurities are hard to deal with. Afterwards he’d repeatedly reassure you that you're perfect the way you are.

For a first date, Toby might take you on a picnic in a secluded place in the woods. (Don’t worry he didn’t prepare the food.) I could see it being a specific part of the woods where he goes to decompress from stress and him showing you that place would be quite the show of trust for him. He is willing to let you see parts of his life nobody else can and you’re very special to him.

Thing that’s been in my head for a while:

Could you write about Toby meeting someone else with a tic disorder,? Male reader, please! Reader is also kinda of a romantic, he likes roses and other red things, like blood and hearts!

(This is kind of self-indulgent but shhhh it’s fine….)

Hi! Thank you for being my first request, I would absolutely love to write this for you! I hope I handled it to your liking! As someone who has a tic disorder this request kind of made me super happy and I had a lot of fun writing this!

Upon meeting you, Toby is instantly infatuated with the fact he’s met someone like him. I doubt he had met another person with tics before and meeting you makes him feel like he has someone who can understand him.

You two are like instant best friends and nearly impossible to separate from each other. Whenever he has free time from proxy work he is usually by your side. Before you even start dating, people already assume you are just from how much you are together. 

He would go out of his way to try and appeal to your romantic side. He’d bring you gifts in your favorite colors, stuffed animals, things that remind him of you, sweets, and obviously roses. Don’t ask where he gets some of this stuff as he is perpetually broke. He may go a bit overboard and leave shit like human hearts in places for you to find but he’s doing it out of love.

You make him feel comfortable enough to tic freely around because he won’t have to worry about any judgment that might come from other people. This is one of the things that made him really fall for you. It wasn’t just about the tics it was the fact you wouldn’t judge him, and he would do his best to provide that same comfort for you.

Be warned that your tics would probably bounce off each other and you’d pick up the other’s tics. He finds it strangely sentimental. For him it's like carrying a piece of you with him. If that makes sense.

When he eventually would ask you to be his boyfriend, he’d probably show up to your place with some sentimental gifts to give you and a handwritten letter describing his feelings for you cause he gets awkward/nervous expressing big feelings verbally. He’d be barely able to stay still/contain himself while you read it. He would probably end up blurting out his feelings for you halfway through you reading the letter.

If anyone ever said anything rude to you about your tics, he would probably kill them or just hurt them at the least. He doesn’t want you to feel insecure about your tics but he knows insecurities are hard to deal with. Afterwards he’d repeatedly reassure you that you're perfect the way you are.

For a first date, Toby might take you on a picnic in a secluded place in the woods. (Don’t worry he didn’t prepare the food.) I could see it being a specific part of the woods where he goes to decompress from stress and him showing you that place would be quite the show of trust for him. He is willing to let you see parts of his life nobody else can and you’re very special to him.

Requests

Wanted to say I am still taking requests after a long time being away from this account. You can request headcanons or short oneshots(1k-2k words) and I will happily write them.

I personally write Jeff, EJ, and Toby the best(in my opinion) but I can do other characters(including women) as well. Depending on the character it may take a bit for me to get around to as I'll probably need refreshers because it's been a while since I last posted on this account.

Please request things because I am super bored and just want to write.

Requests

Wanted to say I am still taking requests after a long time being away from this account. You can request headcanons or short oneshots(1k-2k words) and I will happily write them.

I personally write Jeff, EJ, and Toby the best(in my opinion) but I can do other characters(including women) as well. Depending on the character it may take a bit for me to get around to as I'll probably need refreshers because it's been a while since I last posted on this account.

Please request things because I am super bored and just want to write.

Requests

Wanted to say I am still taking requests after a long time being away from this account. You can request headcanons or short oneshots(1k-2k words) and I will happily write them.

I personally write Jeff, EJ, and Toby the best(in my opinion) but I can do other characters(including women) as well. Depending on the character it may take a bit for me to get around to as I'll probably need refreshers because it's been a while since I last posted on this account.

Please request things because I am super bored and just want to write.

Requests

Wanted to say I am still taking requests after a long time being away from this account. You can request headcanons or short oneshots(1k-2k words) and I will happily write them.

I personally write Jeff, EJ, and Toby the best(in my opinion) but I can do other characters(including women) as well. Depending on the character it may take a bit for me to get around to as I'll probably need refreshers because it's been a while since I last posted on this account.

Please request things because I am super bored and just want to write.

Every single Proxies x Reader fanfiction ever:

¡Sub! Ticci Toby x ¡Dom! Male Reader

I'm so sorry for what you're about to read HAHAHA I wrote it yesterday in a moment of insomnia and annoyance for not finding passive Creepypastas... today I read what I wrote and it was like 0-0 But I thought it was fun anyway.

¡WARNING! : Bad words, slight degradation, homosexuality, possible abuse,boy x boy,explicit content.

¡English is not my first language! So it's possible that the writing sucks.

Thinking about how to reduce a serial killer…

To say that Toby was putty in your hands was a lie, as he was currently struggling with the grip that one of your hands had on his wrists behind his lower back, which applied downward force to keep his back arched while you attacked him from behind with your throbbing cock.

His head was buried in the pillow of the bed they were on, his sweatshirt and shirt were pulled up to his chest and his pants were down to his knees. Your remaining hand was under Toby's abdomen, tortuously caressing his already reddish penis to receive the grunts of pleasure that contradicted the insults he directed towards you.

- "¡YOU little bitchAh!-" - As soon as you heard how the sentence began, you slightly squeezed the boy's glans to take it to the maximum - "You're not in a position to talk that way, boy." - You responded without ceasing your hip movements that were going in a rhythmic swing.

- "¡Just s-stop!" - The brunette hair gasped, closing his hands into fists, digging his nails into the palms of his hands without noticing it. - "Not until you know your place here." - You grunted, releasing the head from between your fingers to wrap his length in your hand again to continue pumping him but now at a pace according to the speed of your thrusts.

Finding yourself near the edge, you let go of his hands so he could have free will, expecting him to push you away, you only saw how his hands clung to the sheets to squeeze them while he grunted and gasped against the pillow, letting you fuck his insides.

- "¡Please! ¡Please! ¡I-im cominggg!!!" - He moaned while drops of saliva leaked between his lips while he was still trying to muffle his moans into the pillow which was already ruined.

On your side, your hips followed an erratic rhythm before a grunt drowned in your throat as you painted his insides white and Toby reached his climax, releasing strings of semen on the sheets while he breathed heavily, feeling the emptiness of his interior was wet from when you came out of him and lay down on his side in the leftover space of the bed to take a tissue and proceed to clean yourself and then do the same with Toby taking advantage of his moment of trance.

The auburn, without caring much, let himself fall on the mattress, being embraced by your presence. At another time he would have annihilated you, but maybe he would let it happen this time, because he was your good boy and he would let you teach him manners <3.

Hi! I loved the Toby headcanons you wrote! Can we please get a yandere nsfw Ticci Toby x reader?

~Possession~

Yandere!Ticci Toby/Toby Rogers x SlightlyDeranged!Reader (Smut)

Requests are currently open!

MDNI!

My first request! I'm so glad you enjoyed it! I had a lot of fun writing them and I can't wait to get some time to write for some more Pastas! I got some good ideas up my sleeve.

Also I made the reader super into the fact that Toby fucks up anybody that even gets near his s/o, so if you were thinking of a more innocent/scared reader just send me another ask but but honestly anybody that gets with Toby better be into that because he's gonna burn cities for his s/o.

I hope you enjoy reading this just as much as I did writing it!

WARNINGS: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Murder, Public Sex.

Let me know if I should add anything to the warnings! I try my best to add what I think is necessary but sometimes I can't tell when something should be included.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His hand was on your thigh, squeezing the flesh there and it was enough to make your heart drop for the poor man that had taken up residence next to you at the bar. He didn’t know what he was getting himself into. He didn’t know that the small touch that still lingered on your thigh would be his one way ticket to an early demise.

He didn’t know that the other man beside you practically owned you at this point, and he surely didn’t know that you took some sick, demented enjoyment out of watching the way he gets when he’s jealous. It’s lethal.

“Won’t you come home with me, darling?” The words are slurred, barely even there when he leans towards your ear.

You can practically feel Toby stiffen beside you, radiating anger in such a way that it seeps into your clothes and fuses into your bones leaving a sweet, delicious ache in the pit of your stomach. He’s a good fuck normally, but the switch that flips when he gets jealous is unlike anything you’ve ever seen.

“I suggest you take your hand off me,” Your eyes finally meet his, a coy smile playing at your lips, “If you want to make it through the night, that is.”

Your hand moves to push the man’s off your thigh, but he keeps your flesh in a vice-grip as he speaks, “Feisty, I love that in a woman.”

You can’t help the small giggle that pulls its way out of your throat as you feel Toby finally move. You don’t know how he’s held back for this long. You know the jealousy is burning in him, and his eyes are on the two of you. You don’t even have to look over at him to know it. Toby’s own hand finally shoots out and in one swift motion, grabs the man's fingers and twists, pushing them towards him and you hear the sickly snap before you see the way his fingers are now bent, definitely broken.

He might have a chance if he stops now, but now you have anger on both sides of you, and you just know it won’t end here. You know Toby has no reason to hold back, and he won’t. He doesn’t know how. Not anymore.

“Fuckin’ bitch.” The man pushes out of his seat, moving towards the man that just snapped his fingers.

The bar stool scratches heavily against the wood floor as Toby finally stands, gripping onto the man's collar and practically dragging him out of the dingy dive bar. They’re out of the door before you can even stand, and you take a moment to fish an almost empty pack of cigarettes out of your pocket, pulling one out and lighting it before reaching for the money you kept in the back pocket of your jeans.

It’s at least a hundred but you don’t count it before throwing it down. Call it payment for damages for when someone finally finds that sour fucker’s body the next morning.

You pull a drag from your cigarette as you move to get up, your own bar stool screeching into the air and you finally allow yourself to look to the only duo that rests in the corner of the bar and giving them a small smile. Their eyes pull quickly away from yours and you finally make your way outside into the just as disgusting night air that surrounds the establishment.

You can hear him before you see him. The labored grunts of him most likely already crushing the man’s head in is just around the corner, leading into the dark alleyway, and the fact that you can only hear Toby is a sure sign that he’s almost done with the man. His life’s probably gone, but Toby has so much anger stored in his body from that interaction that he might be there for a moment before he feels like he’s finally finished with him.

The scene you walk into is much worse than you expected, and some part of you is glad that it’s dark. The wall behind them is a disgusting inky color that you can only guess is blood. Some broken bones, arms contorted in a way that makes your stomach turn, even after getting comfortable with seeing what kind of aftermath Toby can leave behind, it’s a little bit much.

Toby has his hands splayed onto the brick of the wall, holding himself stable as his foot sinks another kick into the limp leftovers of the man on the ground. Once you finally make it closer to him you can hear him whispering, voice coming out in a low growl that sets your skin on fire.

Mine, she’s mine.

You let your hands rest on his back, pushing to wrap around him, hands coming to rest just under his shirt on his bare stomach. You let your thumbs toy at the waistband before gripping onto it, and it usually serves to pull Toby back to the real world. Tugging him out of his thoughts proves to be a little harder tonight, but his hand comes to rest on one of yours before he lets the man have one more kick before pushing himself off of the wall and turning his face towards you.

It’s splattered with dark red, and if you hadn’t known him, you would think it was his own, but you know the man doesn’t have a single scratch on him. You pull your hand from his waistband to tug the cigarette out of your mouth after taking a long draw, moving it to Toby’s mouth and pressing the butt of it to his lips. He pulls his own draw off of it before you toss it to the ground, not worrying about stomping it out. You wouldn’t have time even if you had wanted to.

Toby’s lips crash hard against your own after he exhales the smoke, and you drink him in like you’ve been thirsting your whole life and he’s the water you’ve fought so hard to finally reach. Your teeth hit his in the mess of a kiss, and you’re sure he’s drawn blood when he finally bites at your bottom lip.

“You’re fucking mine.” His voice comes out with a growl of arousal and over-exhaustion, and it only serves to push you closer to the brink and his hands aren’t even on you yet. His usual stutter is nowhere to be found, lost in the clouded haze of anger and post-murder. His mind’s only on one thing and it’s you. All of it is you.

“All yours.”

You can barely get the words out before he’s pushing and pulling, pressing your back hard against the other side of the alleyway and his mouth finds its way to your throat. He bites hard, no doubt leaving a bruise already forming. You can feel him all around you, hands all over your body, pulling at your clothes and undoing the button on your jeans. He pushes them down quickly, and the way the night air presses heavily into your form is the only thing to remind you that you’re still outside.

Anybody could see you, anybody could see what he’s done, and anybody can see the mess he’s about to make of you. It sends a delicious chill up your spine. His lips press against yours once more before he’s pulling away and pressing your face into the brick of the building, no doubt scratching you up a bit, but it’s worth it. It’ll all be worth it as long as he takes you right here. You’re far enough in the dark that as long as nobody follows the sounds pouring from your mouth then you’ll be just fine.

His mouth lands on your shoulder and even through the fabric, the weight of his bite tears a shriek out of you. “Keep making those sounds for me.” His voice filters into your ears, and you can’t help but push back into him. The thin fabric of your panties does little to keep the denim of his jeans from rubbing you deliciously, and you can feel every inch of him through his jeans. You’re practically drooling at this point and he knows it.

“You’re fucking sick, y’know that?” He speaks before he presses a smaller bite into your earlobe and his hand finally pulls your panties down to meet where your jeans rest at the bottom of your thighs. “You do this on purpose, don’t you?” His scarred fingers finally press against your slit, pushing just enough to feel how wet you are, but not giving you what you wanted just yet.

You can only nod, words not able to form in the knot he has tied in your throat.

“You get off on me killing for you,” He laughs then, absolutely deranged, exactly how you like him. “You’re- You’re just like me.”

His fingers finally circle your clit, pulling some of the pent-up arousal out of you in the form of a moan and the words finally slip out of you, “Jus’ like you, Toby, Fuck.” You huff as his fingers work you, pulling you closer to your edge and you can feel him trying to undo his pants with one hand and your mouth waters at the thought of him finally filling you up.

“You love me?” He asks, he always asks and you always answer.

“Only you, Toby.”

He leaves another bite on your shoulder as he pulls himself out of his pants, resting against your ass and never slowing his hand on your cunt as he says his next words, “Then cum for me, baby.” It comes out as a whine, begging, delicious, and twisting your insides.

It pushes you so close, almost to the edge. As he finally slips into you, you tumble, falling over the edge as his hips finally snap into you. He fucks you through it, as words fall out of your mouth in an incoherent mess and you can only hear him chuckle behind you. You can only feel his hands on you as he finally pulls off of your sensitive clit to grip heavily onto your hips. All you can do is brace yourself as he fucks into you, chasing his own high.

His grunts fill the Alley, and the way he growls sets you on fire as your body tries to come down from its high. He doesn’t let it though, cock pressing hard into your sweet spot with each thrust. His hips hit against you with a bruising weight as he fills you to the brim with every bit of him, every inch stretches you out deliciously. You can feel it coming again, can feel the tight coil in your abdomen get worse with every thrust.

He finally snaps his hips and keeps them pressed against you and him cumming inside of you pulls you over the edge for a second time like a noose tied around a rock and your neck and he just threw it into the ocean.

You both come undone and your cunt milks him for everything he’s worth. His growls fill the air around you as he ruts against you, thrusting another time before he pulls out of you. Your mixed fluids leak out the smallest bit before he’s pulling your clothes up and buttoning your jeans for you. He lands a light smack to your ass before he’s finally fixing himself and his hand finds purchase in your hair to finally pull you off the wall and into him.

His thumb presses heavily into your cheek, smearing the blood from the scratches the dirty brick gave you before he presses it into his tongue. He’s fucking deranged, but you’d be lying through your teeth if you didn’t admit you were just as fucked up as he was.