#Yandere Toby rogers x reader

[whisperingthorns]

(Yandere Ticci Toby x Reader) Charmed by Shadows

Chapter 1: A Glimpse in the Shadows

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Silence. Toby walked through the woods leaves crunching under his feet. He was looking at the floor, looking at the little bugs scuttle through the leaves. Tobias Roger’s was a quiet man. At least today he was. He paused watching a bug crawl under a leaf. It had been a couple weeks since he arrived in the town of Ravenwood in Maine.

Masky and Hoodie were not to come to this mission. So it was just Tobias by himself today…and everyday for the year he supposed. This mission should take some time. A whole year old solitude? Slender should know better then to leave the unstable Proxy alone. He didn’t wanna seem like pussy though. He took it. The job that is.

Though for the past couple weeks he’s been plagued by this dream. Sometimes it was a nice dream, other times he woke up crying. The dream is stupid. Too stupid to even write in his journal. It’s about a princess who sits and talks with him. Sometimes he pushes her on a swing, sometimes he eats her cooking for a picnic, it’s always in the woods though. He’s heard tales of the fae and such, maybe that’s what she is? It just feels so real. He just sits there and talks, even about problems he has in his waking life and she always manages to make him feel better. He wonders if maybe he’s developing a new disorder and she’s a figment that will manifest herself eventually.

Toby’s face snaps to the side when he hears a noise, much like singing. Singing? In the woods? What is this? A Disney movie? Toby shuffles to the tree line. Toby’s face scrunches up when he sees her, the girl practically skipping through the path in the woods, ignoring how it pretty much ending a couple yards back. She had to know that right. She was wearing and dress, once he recognized but couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Having nothing better to do, Toby took a seat and watched her pass, fingers pulling up the grass as he fiddled with it.

Her dress flowed around her perfectly. Her black shoes kicking up dirt. She had to be around the same age as him, but the way she was acting was a bit childish to say the least. Toby thought about running from the brush and burying a hatchet in his skull, hearing her scream, and look up at him in her final moments, the dark red ruining her dress forever. ‘Pretty girl.�� He thought giving a grin. ‘Wonder how long it takes for anyone to notice she’s missing. Will anyone come looking for her? Prince Charming perhaps?’ If this was a fairytale, he wondered what role that would make him. Certainly not the hero.

Tobias wasn’t the hero in anyone’s story. Not even his own. Especially not hers. However Tobias didn’t kill for no reason. He’s seen the stories online. The fanfiction they write, but he also sees what some of the public thinks of him. He wasn’t any hero. Though sometimes he liked to google his own name he found interesting things. From old articles to art, to fanfiction of him rescuing forgotten and abused like him. Bring them with him. Toby wondered if he would have felt that way if he wasn’t involved in the debacle. Would he wish the slenderman take him too? Would he leave his window open and still draw the proxy symbol on his wrists in hopes he would be rescued?

Must be horrible to realize that the faceless man wouldn’t ever show up. He was picky. The girl was looking at something on a tree now, some sort of bird. She was delighted when it came closer. “Bitch has never se-seen a bird b-before” No but seriously what was her deal? She’s in the woods…alone…in a dress…playing with birds. How does she know someone like him won’t come up and…lift that pretty dress? Toby thought about shoving her up against the tree, teasing her a bit. He shook the thought away. Gross. You shouldn’t think that way about random girls in the woods. Wow that’s a sentence. Random girl in the woods…he looked her over again. He really could kill her here.

Toby got up, gripping his hatchet. She was so unsuspecting. He was literally feet from her. Him! A killer! A proxy! She wasn’t even sensing his presence. It was like watching a suspecting deer through a sniper scope.

Suddenly Toby threw the hatchet, and it catch the girl in the throat, her eyes widened, blood pouring from her neck as the bird flew from her finger, and she collapsed to the ground. Jerking as her eyes wildly searched the sky. As if asking why this had happened? Why her? Who would come to look for her rotting corpse?

Toby blinked, coming back to reality, the girl was throwing bird feed on the ground so they would gather around her. It was a boring scene really. Except for her. How can someone be so dumb? In the woods all alone…feeding the birds…it was kinda…it was kinda cute. Toby stopped picking the grass and watched. How sweet. He wanted to go up and say something. Something mean for some reason.

‘Those birds don’t even like you. They just like that you’re giving them food’ He wanted to say. Yeah. What did she think she was special? That she was some sort of princess of the forest? Who the fuck did she think she was? Waltzing in her all happy, feeding he birds. After this she’s probably gonna go home and eat a hot dinner…with family that probably actually likes her and doesn’t kill people for a living. Probably go and do whatever she wants tomorrow too because she doesn’t have a faceless man pulling her along like a puppet.

If only those kids who left their windows open and drew things on their hands knew what it was like: The life of a proxy. Sure he saved Toby but if Toby could just do it again he wouldn’t go with him. Toby would just burn and die. End of story. The girl seemed to finish. She stood. She left.

Only cause Toby let her.

‘Yeah.’ He told himself. ‘Only cause I let her!’ He started picking at his nails, feeling a little frustrated. Ignored even. How could she not know he was right here? Whatever. He started to bite his nails, and knew he went too far when he tasted blood. Oops. He wiped it on his dirty jeans.

…

Toby quickly made his way through the trees silently, wondering if he could catch up with her, and he did! She had stopped to feed a bunny. Who weirdly enough didn’t seem that scared of her. The bunny nuzzled her hand and she laughed. Her laughter, soft and sweet like birdsong, drifted through the air, making his heart pound in a way that felt almost… painful. Toby didn’t deserve to hear it, but he stayed hidden among the trees, selfishly drinking it in.

He knew he recognized the sound from somewhere, and now that he was getting a good look at her (e/c) eyes and sweet smile everything clicked.

The princess! From his dreams! The one he saves all the time and talks to. He actually almost stood to call out to her before he realized that he was being unreasonable. They probably just looked similar! That girl was just a figment of his mind he can’t just talk to every girl that looks like her.

⦻

After the next few weeks Toby watched. When he finished the mission he needed for that day, he would quickly dash to her house. She was a simple girl with a simple routine. Tobias loved simple really. His life was anything but. She walks the same path everyday it turns out, just to sit at that rickety old bench. He also picked up on some of her mannerisms. Like how when she’s happy she tends to skip and lean on the balls of her feet, almost like a bird about to take flight, but hesitant to do so? If that makes sense. When she’s stressed or frustrated she walks flat but not just flat it’s almost like slap to the floor. When she sad she tends to mess with her hair a lot. A nervous habit he supposed. She also hums or sings to herself a lot. It sounds…wonderful.

Toby has heard plenty of nice voices before but her voice…it wasn’t just nice or beautiful it was almost…haunting. Like it was something he wasn’t even supposed to be hearing in the first place. As if she was calling to creatures that didn’t exist in this worldly plane. It made his head buzz. In a weird way.

Anyway, he was happy for her carefree nature because it made it incredibly easy to follow from day to day. She never saw him, not really. Sometimes, she’d pause, her head tilting as if she sensed something—or someone—just out of view. But Toby was good at hiding, blending into the shadows like smoke, his eyes never leaving her.

Sometimes, when he was feeling brave, he’d clean himself up, and slap a bandage over the gaping hole in face, he’d even run an old brush through his hair, and wash it, he’d wash his clothes, and head out into town where she was. He would walk past where she was, his head down, their arms just barely brushing, it made Toby’s skin tingle with excitement. Sometimes when she was with her friends, he’d stand nearby and stare if they were distracted enough.

One time, he slipped up. He was doing his usual routine. She was at the arcade with her friend. A male friend but from observation Tobias knew they were nothing more than that. Toby loved the arcade…used to go all the time before the incident.

…

Toby watched as she encouraged her friend ‘Moon’ to win her a prize at the claw game. (Who names their fucking kid that by the way? ‘Moon’ it’s gotta be a nickname right?) That’s when it happened…right there.

Through the glass, through the moving claw, through the people passing through, she looked up once, then a second..very briefly, she locked eyes with him. For the briefest of moments, her gaze brushed his, a spark of recognition flaring in her eyes before it faded. She didn’t know him, not yet—but he could feel the connection, thrumming beneath his skin like a secret waiting to be told. Toby felt his face burn. ‘Moon’ cheered and held up a stuffed animal. “I GOT ONE! (Y/N), I GOT ONE!” (Y/n)….Tobys eyes glazed over.

That was the first time she had even actually seen him. He was watching her again the next day in the forest, she made her way back to that bench she liked so much…he was thinking about cleaning it for her. It was sunny day today, hot one would say. Tobias couldn’t tell. He can’t feel pain, he also can’t feel temperature. Seeing her in the sundress not only made his heart pound, but reminded him to remove his jacket. Masky wasn’t here to rudely yank it off in reminder so he had to be careful not to overheat. Someone would have called the scene beautiful. Sunlight peeking through the trees, leaves fluttered in the wind, bird sung at the new day.

Tobias, hidden away, felt detached from it all. Like all the dark spots of the forest floor were only meant for him. While she deserved to stay in the sunshine…The forest was alive with warmth and light, but all Toby could focus on was her—how she glided through the golden beams, her hands brushing the leaves like they belonged to her. His world had shrunk to the size of her silhouette.

His fingers curled, digging into the bark of the tree as she tilted her head back to laugh at something he couldn’t hear. He wanted to be closer—to hear it, to see her smile up close—but he stayed rooted in place, afraid of what might happen if he dared to step into the light.

He stood, like a frozen statue, waiting, watching…longing…needing. It felt like a need. Like when he needed to drink or eat. When was the last time he ate again? He remembered (Y/n) had french toast for breakfast and spaghetti for dinner last night while she watched her shows and played…sims? (Honestly the things she was doing in that game would be considered questionable but he wasn’t too worried about that while he watched her giggle….and trap random men in her basement it seems.) Just as he came to the conclusion that his last meal was two days ago he saw her stand to leave, slipping away as the wind picked up, slipping the the ribbon out of her hair without realizing it.

As soon as you were out of sight Toby dashed into the clearing, tripping over a root as he did and taking a tumble and grabbing the ribbon into his fist. He laid in the leaves as he looked at it, clutched in his fist, the sun shining down on him as he grinned widely. The fresh baby blue contrasting against his pale gray skin. It’s a sign. A sign of the secret bond between she doesn’t realize they share. Yeah…maybe she dropped it on purpose. Or maybe whatever fucked up force that ruined Toby’s life was trying to gift him something.

Either way it was his now.

And so were you.

(If you guys could comment or just interact that be great I’d love to hear feedback or just parts you liked 🩷🎀 Helps me keep writing if you want another chapter Thank you darlings)

Edit: New chapter coming out Friday, September 27th for those who are interested.

[yatsuyu]

To the main events!Ticci Toby headcanons

(English is not my native language, so please excuse the mistakes in the text)

To the main events!Ticci Toby was surprised when you approached him in the school cafeteria to make friends. He thought it was a joke to make fun of him, but no.

To the main events!Ticci Toby who is very grateful to you for protecting him from bullies.

To the main events!Ticci Toby who develops romantic feelings for you, but he hides it from you.

To the main events!Ticci Toby who started to be mocked even more, because now he has a "protector girlfriend". Because of this, he switched to home schooling.

You throw small pebbles in the window To the main events!Ticci Toby to invite him to walk. He didn't want his abusive father to open it when you knocked on the front door of his house, so this was the best option.

To the main events!Ticci Toby whom you invite to your house and hang out together in your room.

To the main events!Ticci Toby who on the bank of the river made a couple scars with you on the palm of his right hand, with a fragment of the bottle you broke, as a sign that you will always be together.

To the main events!Ticci Toby is completely broken when his sister dies in a car accident, but you lie next to him on your bed and wipe the tears from his face. He is happy that he has you.

To the main events!Ticci Toby who tells you that he saw an extremely tall faceless creature in his bedroom window. You hug him and comfort him, telling him that he only dreamed this because of the terrible events that happened to him.

To the main events!Ticci Toby invited you to his house for the first time.

To the main events!Ticci Toby who killed his father with an ax before your eyes.

To the main events!Ticci Toby who chases you with a bloody ax around the house when you run away from him in terror.

To the main events!Ticci Toby who knocked you to the ground, and was surprised when you screamed and cried saying not to kill you.

To the main events!Ticci Toby who quietly comforts you and strokes your head when you are still crying under him.

To the main events!Ticci Toby who can no longer hold back his feelings and desires for you, so he pressed his cracked lips into yours. Although it was a bad kiss, but he was happy that he could do it.

To the main events!Ticci Toby who wipes away your tears with his thumb, as you once did for him.

To the main events!Ticci Toby who sets fire to the whole block as a sign of great love for you while you stand in terror outside his house.

To the main events!Ticci Toby who grabbed you by the shoulders and points in the direction of the dense forest to a tall faceless creature.

To the main events!Ticci Toby are so glad that he was able to prove to you that it was not his fantasy.

To the main events!Ticci Toby takes you with him to the dark forest. Don't worry, he will take care of you now.

[creepypasta65]

hello can I request a yandere toby, Jeff and ej with an s/o who is sweet and innocent?

Thank you very much 🙏

Thanks for the request :)

⚠️Warning Yandere themes below⚠️

Yandere Toby, Jeff, and EJ with a sweet and innocent s/o:

Toby:

Your sweet and innocent nature is the reason why Toby fell head over heels for you.

He loves how sweet you are and how innocent you are. He wants to protect your innocence.

Toby thinks the best way to protect you is to kidnap you into his home and keep you there under his view and protection.

He loves you and views you as an angel sent from heaven.

Toby will treat you kindly just don't try to run away from him.

He will kill anyone who stares at you or even tries to touch you.

Jeff:

Seeing how sweet and innocent you are makes Jeff obsessed with you.

He wants you to treat him with care and love.

Jeff will kidnap you and will keep you in his room tied up.

He doesn't want to harm you, but if you misbehave and don't accept the love he has for you, he has no other choice but to harm you.

Jeff will make you break the contract with your family and friends.

Jeff loves you so much to the point that he will harm himself over you.

EJ:

Jack will become possessive over you and want you all to himself.

He will feel bad for kidnapping you and taking you away from your home, but in his mind, it's the best decision for you to be under his watch where no one can harm you.

Jack feels a need to protect you and give you affection.

He will give you lots of love and care.

Jack will do his best to make you happy, and all he wants back in return is your love and affection.

He will not harm you and doesn't dare to put an arm on you.

Jack will be patient with you and will wait until you reciprocate his love.

Have a nice day :)

[astupidweeb69]

Unrequited (Yandere! Ticci Toby x Reader) Part 9

Links to Previous Chapters: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Author’s Note: I've been rereading this chapter for about a week trying to edit it, but decided I'd just go ahead and post it. Happy holidays everybody!

Cross-posted on my Ao3 account, which I update more frequently.

Warnings: Swearing. Descriptions of Gore. Some threats of violence. (2,070 words)

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Leaves crunched underneath heavy boots, ragged and irritated breaths came out in clouds against the cold. 

Toby was not pleased.

Not pleased with how things were going with you.

And not pleased with being texted by Tim.

Apparently there was some work to do and he had to ‘get his lazy ass over there’. The young proxy didn’t even know the details of what needed to be done. A supply run? Some more random campers in the area? Either way Toby was itching for a fight. 

He could feel anger in his system bubbling and ready to boil over. Just imagining Tim’s smug face waiting for him, probably ready to spat some nonsense about how ‘he’s late’ or make a snide comment on his appearance. His face twitched furiously at the idea, and if anyone was unfortunate enough to see the way he walked through the woods now, they’d surely run in the other direction. There was murder in the man’s eyes. 

It wouldn’t take long for Toby to find his teammate. That’s how things always worked though, they had a connection to find each other when they were supposed to, all he needed to do was walk mindlessly in a direction and let the forest guide him.

“Someone’s in a pissy mood.”

The smell of smoke let him know he found who he was looking for. Tim leaned on a tree, a wry smile on his face, a lit cigarette burning away at his fingertips. It was practically an extension of his hand at this point, the fucking chainsmoker. Toby learned to hate the scent of tobacco.

“Where’s Brian?” Toby frowned, ignoring Tim’s comment.

“Had something he needed to do.”

Tim looked disinterested in the conversation. Getting him to actually tell Toby what was going on was like pulling teeth. And Toby knew first hand how hard that could be.

“Suh-so? Why’d you cuh-call me out here?” The younger proxy fidgeted with the ends of his gloves.

Tim sighed, letting the last part of his cigarette drop to the ground, putting it out with his boot. “There’s been some weird things happening out here. Brian said you should come with me to investigate.” 

Toby made note of how he said ‘Hoodie’. Tim’s way of hinting that he didn’t want him there. Typical.

“Wuh-what do you mean weird things?”

Tim motioned with his head for him to follow, walking away into some bushes, Toby raised one of his eyebrows before complying. There was a rancid stench in the air when he started following him, like something died. Not uncommon in the forest, but it was hard to stomach even for the most experienced woodsman. 

They followed the smell of rotting flesh, down a small embankment. The dead leaves on the ground made it hard not to slip and fall, and Toby snickered when Tim lost his footing a couple times, making the older proxy shoot him a dirty look. 

“There up ahead.” After walking a few paces, Tim pointed to a mangled pile of fur splayed out against a group of pine trees. 

Toby’s eyes narrowed at the bloody mess in front of him, turning to the other man in irritation. 

“You dragged me out here for a duh-dead deer?”

“Take a closer look, Rogers.”

Toby shoved past Tim, making a point to bump into his shoulder for using the nickname he hated. He pulled up the mouthguard hanging from his neck to cover his nose, but it didn’t block out the smell nearly as much as he’d hoped. It took a lot of willpower not to gag.

He scanned over the remains noting different sized bite marks and scratches that tore through the animal's belly, viscera pooling out and its black lifeless eyes staring up at the sky. A swarm of maggots had already started the process of decay. 

Toby could see the red of Tim’s flannel out the corner of his eye.

“Well?”

“Okay, it’s a luh-little strange. I’ll give you that. The bite muh-marks look like they came from a  human.”

“Anything else, detective?” Tim mused, clearly noticing something else but liked toying with the kid.

“Just fucking spit it out.”

The older man kneeled down, motioning to two different spots on the deer's hind legs. “They’re all different sizes, meaning more than one person did this.”

“Cuh-cool.” Toby deadpanned. “So what does that mean for us?” 

“It means we need to keep an eye out for groups of ravin’ lunatics.”

“Don’t we already duh-do that?”

Tim rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. This is the second animal we’ve found like this in a week.”

“And yuh-you only thought to tell me now?”

“I was busy.” Tim shrugged, the corner of his lip curling up slightly. The man did not give two shits about warning Toby sooner. Probably didn’t even want to tell him now. If anything, Brian most likely had to convince him to.

The younger proxy scowled at him, tempted to escalate things, to cause another one of their fights ending with the two trying to claw the others' eyes out. Not that it would hurt him, and Toby always got some sick amusement seeing Tim in pain. But it would be dark soon, and he was itching to get back home. The thought of you back there tied up on his bed was making him scratch at his scar. 

He needed to spend more time with you. The look in your eyes as he paced around the cabin…. The look of fear and hatred. It wasn’t unexpected, but it still bugged him. You were… a bit more of a firecracker than he’d hoped. And level-headed unfortunately. You were catching on a little too quickly, to just how…. Temperamental he could be. The memory of you staring at his hatchets came back to him. He needed you to see his softer side, needed you to warm up to him before the truth, the real truth, about what he was came out. Maybe if he stole an old TV and got some of those movies you liked….

“Rogers!”

A finger snapped inches from his face. Toby blinked.

“Wuh-What?” 

“I told you we need to get goin’” Tim pushed Toby forward impatiently. “It’s almost night time. Come on.”

He could hear Tim muttering “Fuckin’ useless kid.” under his breath as he led the way.

Toby’s stomach twisted. That phrase got to him. Was something he’d heard a lot, from somewhere before, something in his past. Something familiar. Tim taunted him in ways that sparked a deep resentment, like an itch he could never fully scratch. A scab that wouldn’t heal.

They walked back the way they came in, up the hill and through the thick bushes, without saying a word. One thing they could agree on was the less they talked, the better.

Luckily Toby’s cabin wasn’t too far. Fiddling with the ends of his jacket, combing his hair, absentmindedly, he was glad to be rid of the old fucker finally and get back to what was important.

But things never worked out the way he wanted.

Toby felt a hand on his arm. Tim lit up another cigarette, his eyes narrowed at Toby, before taking a long, deep, drag into his lungs. .

Smoke billowed from the man’s mouth, surrounding him in a thick cloud as he spoke.

“Before you go, I need somethin’ from your cabin.”

Fuck.

Toby stared at him for a moment. His mind went blank, before finally speaking up.

“Wuh-what do you need?” 

He’d just act normal. It wouldn’t be a big deal. He could figure something out.

“Hoods and I are running low on some supplies. We know Kate keeps some of her stuff in your basement. Figured we’d borrow some things.” 

The boy twitched and fidgeted under the pressure, trying to come up with ways to get out of it. If Tim saw you… Toby didn’t even want to think about what he’d do. He honestly didn’t know.

“What… kuh-kind of things-sss?” Shit. His stutter was getting worse.

Tim raised a brow. Likely annoyed by how standoffish the other proxy was being at something simple.

“Like food n’ ammo. We’ve been too busy to go into town.” Tim paused, and looked almost accusingly at him. “And I know you’ve been leaving the forest a lot recently.”

Toby chewed on the side of his cheek. Of course the other proxies sensed his disappearance. He’d been too preoccupied with you to even think about that being a possibility. That didn’t mean they cared when he was gone, they weren’t his babysitter. But now Tim had him over a barrel. There was no way he could deny him supplies now, without admitting the reason he went into town was for… something out of the ordinary.

“Fuh-fine.” He sighed, trying to collect his thoughts. “Just duh-don’t touch any of my stuff.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

______________________________________________________________

The cabin was just up ahead. Toby kept glancing back at Tim who seemed too preoccupied in his own thoughts to notice.

“Whuh-wait outside for a second. There’s suh-something I need to take care of first.” 

Tim eyed him carefully. They both stood on the porch, tension rising, Tim’s body stiffening and his hands balling into fists for a brief moment. Toby fully expecting him to lash out. 

Tim always thought the boy was weird. Fucked up in the head. Overly-emotional, unstable, obnoxious, and he’s seen the worst of Toby’s manic episodes. He was almost certain the kid engaged in some light cannibalism, from the way he mumbled to himself in his delusional states. He was so fucking glad they didn’t live under the same roof anymore.

Finally, after a few moments of staring the other down, Tim relaxed. “Whatever, just don’t take too long.”  The older man decided he’d do whatever it took to get the fuck outta there, even if that meant having to obey. Despite how much that bruised his ego, he just wanted to go home and sleep.

Toby quickly went inside, slamming the door behind him, and Tim sat on the steps of the porch with a reluctant grunt.

Twitching anxiously, he ran into the room where you were tied to the bed. You jumped, obviously startled, by the door aggressively being opened. Normally he’d mock you, wanting to give a fake ‘awwww’ at how freaked out you were by his presence. He was still mad about how you've been treating him. But he didn’t have the time for that right now.

He opened the drawer to his nightstand, getting out an old t-shirt.

“Wha-” You started to question, but he cut you off by shoving the cloth in your mouth painfully. He tied it around your head, a little too tight, but he needed to make sure you were properly gagged and wouldn’t be heard.

Toby leaned down to your ear, speaking in a low hiss. “You nuh-need to be fucking quiet. I have a guest. He’s dangerous, so don’t get any ideas. No one’s coming to save you.”

He gripped your jawline tightly. “Do you uh-understand?” You stared back at him. Toby narrowed his eyes, tightening his hold on your face even more, until you finally nodded your head.

He released his hand and exited the room, mentally preparing himself to interact with Tim again, and with a deep breath, opened the front door.

“Okay, you can cuh-come in now.”

Tim groaned as he got up to follow him inside. 

Toby couldn’t help letting his eyes dart to his bedroom door when they walked past. He led Tim down the hall where the basement stairs were, which he started keeping locked the day he captured you. He didn’t need you to see what was down there. Hopefully not ever.

After Toby unlocked the door and showed him the various backpacks stolen from victims, Tim rummaged through a couple before collecting the items he needed. Mostly food, a couple old boxes of ammo. Nothing special.

His heart was pounding when they climbed the stairs again, so close to getting this over with. Wanting nothing more than to have him out of the house. Away from you.

But without warning, Tim stopped in the hallway, 

It was so sudden Toby almost bumped into his back.

“Whuh-what is it?”

There was a dangerously long pause, before Tim’s head turned to look behind his shoulder. Toby's eyes widened in fear.

“Did you hear that?”

[malakaiiswriting]

ʏxᴜ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ | ᴛɪᴄᴄɪ ᴛᴏʙʏ

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | ᶜʳᵉᵉᵖʸᵖᵃˢᵗᵃ ⁱˢ ᵃ ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵒʷⁿ- 𝒅𝒖𝒃𝒄𝒐𝒏, 𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒓, 𝒔𝒉 𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒔, 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒖𝒈𝒍𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆? 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕, 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒑𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒃𝒊𝒑𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒓, 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒔, 𝒔𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒎? 𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈.

Y᙭ᑌ ᑎᗴᗴᗪ ᗰᗴ | TIᑕᑕI TOᗷY ᙭ ᖴᗴᗰ

"𝐒top fucking st-str-" he ticked again. My pulse hammered against my throat, racing. Out of pure, painful frustration, he slammed his head against the wall beside me, groaning into his mask like a wild hound. I could smell him, the metallic, the rustic smell of his last victim.

He gripped my face, gloved fingers digging into my cheek, forcing my lips to part and my vocal cords to ripple out a whine. "Why!? W-what was the pur-purpose of you leaving!?" using his grasp, he slammed the back of my head against the wall, moving to staddle me.

"What part of n-no fucking lea-leav-.. leaving do you not un-understand!?" releasing me, he reached down to the top buttons of my shirt, but instead of undoing them, he ripped it, awful stretching noises echoed into the nightly breeze, making me cringe. "You're fu-fucking mine!" 𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑝.

My eyes watered. I wanted to say something, but anything I said at this point would drive him to rage, even sweet, meaningful lies and nothings. He moved down my body, taking off his goggles and mask, showing me that gash on the side of his face.

His tongue moved along my collar bones, saliva dribbling down shamelessly. Like a baby, he clung to me, hands gripping at my flesh in whatever way he saw fit. "Mi-mine.." shaking, he latched onto my left nipple, sucking, painfully harsh, and yet he seemed almost content with himself.

I held back any noise, I would not allow myself to make them until I couldn't anymore. If i did, he would possibly get worked up. Overstimulated. I knew him. I've endured him long enough to know him. His mind, his ticks, his likings and disliking's, his body. I was his precious fruit. He was my reason to create scars along my fragile, soft skin.

He moved to the right nipple, while his hands worked on ripping the middle of my leggings, and down to my crotch. The cool air hit the inner plush of my thighs, as car horns went off just a street away. For a moment, I had forgotten we were behind a gas station, the worker inside laying dead and mangled behind the counter.

He pulled off, and looked up to me, eyes withholding a dangerous glee. "I-if you did-didn't run off... I wouldn't o-of had t-to do this... hurting you i-isn't fun, b-baby.." he dragged his tongue down my stomach, as I gently pulled at the rope around my wrists, attempting to scratch it against the red brick wall.

My body rattled as he yanked off my leggings completely, leaving them ripped and useless beside me. My heart crashed against my rib cage, thundering within my chest cavity, craving to tear itself free and flee from this horribly torture. From this horrible man who called himself Ticci Toby.

Courage. I spoke, "Why me..?" my voice, pathetic. It wobbled from pure fear, flutters of sharp, daggered wings slicing up inside my stomach as he tilted his head, raising his gloved hand to cup my cheek, the touch so agonizingly gentle I could puke. "I-I don't.. want this.."

His pupils shrunk. No. Shit. I'm sorry. My thighs trembled and my breathing quickened to the point of hyperventilation. He hands moved slowly to my neck, then grasped it tightly, controlling my airway. I choked, my nose burning as oxygen trapped itself within my lungs, the quickened breaths bought to a sudden stop causing my fingers to turn numb behind me.

<3....

Relentlessly, he used me. I laid on the ground, forced to face him as he pounded in and out of my weak, and wounded body. It would stop, that parasite within my mind of his voice, begging me, loving on me to the point of delusion.

"Mine.. pl-please! fuck! Love me! Lo-love me, bitch!" his voice, muffled with tweaks and tics, his hair unruly, bouncing slightly with each thrust as my mind became more and more hazy. "Lo-look! You-your so we-wet for me! Y-you love this! You kn-know you do! You ne-need me!"

Boggled. Moans left my throat, as drool dribbled and his hands, one playing with my left breast while his right held me down but my shoulder, pressing me hard against the cold curb. The morning suns orange hue rose up behind him, and I became fully aware that people would eventually come for gas, only to find a body and hear me submitting to this mentally unstable man. Proxy? That's what he calls himself.

My thoughts were fading to fuzzy nothings, as his voice ate away at my sense of self, filling me with needs I never knew I'd be capable of needing. I've never been so.. wanted? Is this want? Or just sadistic play? How the hell am I confusing the two.

"Look how we-well I'm tr-treating you! You ad-ek-ore me.. You n-need me!" His cock felt amazing, bullying my insides, as my legs slowly moved mindlessly, wrapping around his waist to pull him closer. He leant down, his saliva from the gash over his mouth dripping onto my cheek before mixing with my own in a deep and animalistic kiss.

He growled against my lips, and somehow, someway, I just wanted more. His hands moved his to pin either side of my head, keeping me caged and giving himself the movements he needed to reach deeper within me. "Say you ne-need.. me.." his voice, raspy from all the yelling. My stomach twisted with a great weight.

"I ne-need you..!" I cried out, that weight breaking down and crumbling through me, squeezing him within my walls as I came undone, my legs clenching as my poor, sore arms still behind me were crushed under my arching back. "I want you.." Panting with overstimulation, he went quicker, his eyes rolling back as hot liquid filled me, warming me disgustingly.

I need him.

He lifted me up and cradled me, pulling out and standing with me as if I were a paper weight. "Co-me on, let's g-get you home." he lifted his hatchets, swinging them, and left my poor clothes, torn and unneeded. The other creatures of the forest, may see my body, but it was in his hands, they wouldn't dare touch me, not when I belonged to him.

He placed his mask back on, keeping his goggles on his head. "Y-you really ne-need to trust me m-more.. I-I know what's be-best for you!"

I sighed, leaning my head onto his shoulder, safe within his hold. His spell surrounded me, keeping me at leash to him. "Okay.. Toby..".

[bloodblanks]

pumpkin head [ticci toby x reader] — chapter i.

After a long day at school, Y/N goes to the park to relax and feed some ducks. A boy that she hadn’t seen before catches her eye... maybe a bit too much.

co-written with @spookyravioli, please check her out! ♡

author's note: this fanfiction will contain mildly dark content, including abuse, alcoholism, mental health issues, unhealthy relationship dynamics, and similar themes.

please read at your own discretion.

<- previous chapter

Have you ever thought about being a worm?

No, not in the way that girls tend to ask their boyfriends if they’d still love them if they were a worm. Like, actually just being a worm. Being a cute, weird, squiggly little thing inching its way forward on the ground.

Because Y/N was doing so right now.

Y/N was staring at the ground, eyes beholding the sight of precisely three worms wiggling their way around the freshly rained-upon earth. It was odd, but she felt compelled to keep her eyes on the worms, watching them intently, not wanting to look up and away.

She was sitting on a swing, old and rackety and looking as if it was on the verge of collapse. Her beat-up shoes dug into the softness of the mud as she propelled herself forward, cringing at the creaking noise each movement made. The wooden seat was still damp from the humidity that lingered in the air, and the same moisture soaked through her clothes, causing them to cling uncomfortably to her body.

But what drew attention was the plastic pumpkin that covered her head, the only dry part of her right now. The pumpkin fully encased her head, leaving her eyes as the only thing visible, shining through the darkness inside. They were her most striking feature, being her only feature that was visible to others. Other than that, her head was just that of the pumpkin’s cheap plastic orange shell, merging seamlessly with the rest of her body almost as if it were natural.

The hollow inside of the pumpkin was nonetheless a bit stuffy, especially with the humid weather, but it also shielded her from the cold and gave her a certain pressure that kept her grounded to the earth. Without it, she would feel as if she was adrift at sea or perhaps like a ghost suspended in the air rather than a human being with corporal mass and weight. In some ways, she found the pumpkin to be an anchor, keeping her at bay and preventing her from drowning in the stresses of life. Granted, the pumpkin head was by no means physically comfortable, often causing her to sweat or feel like she was breathing her own breath over and over, but she wouldn’t want it any other way.

But that wasn’t her problem right now because, despite the general unpleasantness of being rained upon and the slight condensation building up inside the hollow pumpkin, she found peace in the moment.

What truly bothered her, though, more than the moistened seat of the swing, more than the dirt caking up on her shoes, more than the stuffiness of the pumpkin head, was that as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t stare at the soil forever. So she forcefully tore her gaze away from the worms, lifting her head back up, the scenery changing to one of the forest that started at the ends of her backyard.

Staring out into the vastness of the woods, her eyes examined the various tones of reds, oranges, yellows, and browns that had fallen off the trees, carried through the air by the September winds.

It’s beautiful, she thought, watching the animals scurry about on the ground, the birds chirping joyfully and singing in tune. It was a calming atmosphere, with the earthy scent that comes after rain filling the air, inhaled along with each breath of oxygen.

But that wasn’t what her eyes searched for.

No, they were looking for something else, something different. She didn’t know what exactly she was looking for; all she knew was that what she was searching for was not something harmonious with the ever-so-fascinating ecosystem before her eyes.

What she looked for was something far more sinister. Something insidious, shadowing over her life with every step she took, its mere presence strong enough to throw everything out of balance.

Its gaze, empty and hollow and cast upon her entire being. She shivered, feeling a chill run down each individual section of her spine.

Even if that thing wasn’t even there to begin with, even if it was all in her head, the thought of it staring at her at this moment, analyzing and scrutinizing her for all she was worth, was enough for her to want to bury herself underneath the ground, lying there forever and hidden from its gaze.

Quickly, she dropped her eyes, lowering them back to the ground, back to the worms.

Soon, the worms would be gone, unseen until the next rainfall. Burrowing into the earth, tunnelling through the dirt in search of nutrients, blissful and happy with their simple lives under the ground. Away from its watch. Their only worry being the birds that soared high above, waiting for the perfect moment to sweep down on their prey or the higher-ranking insects on the food chain.

However, she would have to stay there, stay in that rusty old swing set, waiting for her mother to finish making breakfast before she would leave for an even bigger ecosystem: high school. Y/N didn’t have the luxury of hiding away in the ground, the luxury of leaving once things became too difficult; instead, she was forced to face her problems on the daily, dealing with them from behind that measly plastic pumpkin on her head. And even then, after she’d finished the school day, she couldn’t be shielded away from the presence that haunted her so often, the presence that she had been searching for just minutes ago.

What she wouldn’t give to be a worm right now.

“Y/N, breakfast is ready!”

The sound of her mother’s voice snapped Y/N out of her quickly spiralling thoughts, causing her to hop off the swing and then make her way towards the backdoor of her house. Now she would have other problems to deal with, other things to focus on other than that ominous presence that ingrained itself into her mind every day, taunting her with the absence of knowledge as to what it is, rendering her to merely a puppet longing to see its master, yet only able to face the audience.

The brisk air, the grey puffs of clouds, and the worms crawling about the ground were left behind as she entered the house, shutting the door behind her, replacing it with the warmth of the indoors. As she took her shoes off, replacing them with slippers that gently tapped against the tiled floor, that was now the only thing that engulfed her mind, her eyes zoning in on the kitchen table before her. It was almost as if she was ignoring the world around her, with the way she sat down on the chair and looked straight at her plate in silence.

Through the hollow eyes of the plastic pumpkin that surrounded her head, she stared at the food in front of her, her eyes widening with joy, practically sparkling as she gazed at the sight before her. And through the rigid shell of the pumpkin’s exterior, she was able to shut out the man sitting beside her at the end of the table, shut out the words that spilled out of her mother’s mouth as she finished setting the table.

Shut out the world around her, just as it was intended to do. Because sometimes the world got a bit too heavy, a bit too overwhelming, a bit too much for her to handle. Because sometimes her surroundings alone were enough to overstimulate her. The plastic pumpkin served perfectly as a divider between her and the world, shutting her into her own little space, able to safely interact with the rest of her world through invisible glass panels.

And she knew it was strange; she knew that she wasn’t the only one who thought so. Everyone else did too. That didn’t stop her, however. She still kept it on at almost all times, to the point where even her teachers had given up on trying to get her to take it off at school.

Back to breakfast, though.

Her mom had made pancakes, and she couldn’t take her eyes off them, taking in every little detail that seemed to make her head fuzzier by the minute. The way the maple syrup dripped off the sides of the neatly stacked pancakes, the way the slices of bananas laid on top, complementing the glistening brown syrup with their soft yellow colour, the way the texture was so light and fluffy, enticing her, beckoning her to stab into them with her fork, squish them in her mouth…

Oh, and the scent, the scent was ever so divine, a heavenly blend of banana, maple, and freshly made pancake that sent her straight to cloud nine.

There was not a single person in the world who made pancakes as well as her mother did; she was sure of that. Not even Gordon Ramsey could compete. They were so ethereal that the man beside her had to snap his fingers in front of her face to snap her out of her trance.

Y/N jerked her head up at the source, turning towards the smiling man, John, her stepfather, with confusion and slight embarrassment, remembering how her mother was talking, and she hadn’t listened to a single word of it. She worried then that perhaps it was something important.

“Everything alright, kiddo? You looked kind of spaced out there.” John’s voice rang in her ears as she stared into his mocha brown eyes that mimicked that of freshly poured hot cocoa.

Y/N paused for a moment, processing his words in her mind.

“I’m okay,” she stated, her voice so soft that it was almost a whisper, yet she knew the man heard her clearly. Returning to her breakfast, now picking up her fork and beginning to eat, she lifted the edge of the plastic pumpkin up and over her mouth, stopping just above her nose.

“Are you sure? You don’t think it’d be easier to eat if you took that thing off?” John asked while raising an eyebrow.

“I guess, yeah.” Y/N agreed with him, hoping it’d get the interaction over faster. It didn’t.

“I mean, doesn’t it get stuffy in there?” John questioned again, taking a sip of his coffee, yet he didn’t take his eyes off her, making Y/N slightly shrink into her seat.

“No, I’m fine.” was the only thing that left her mouth, unsure what else to say.

“Alright, whatever you think, kiddo.” John shrugged, but luckily that was the end of it, his final remark said before he went back to face her mother.

With a small sigh leaving her lips, Y/N returned to her food, yet she couldn’t truly indulge in it like she previously wanted to, almost as if the magic had dissipated, leaving her with nothing but a bleak morning breakfast. Y/N could feel the occasional glances from John, glances so quick that she could barely decipher them, yet she knew it was something that had to do with her, causing her to shrink more into her seat. What was once delectable flavours bursting in her mouth was now just the chewing of food, each bite more tiring and boring than the last; the fluffiness of the pancakes having seemingly evaporated, leaving her with something that felt akin to rubber.

It didn’t matter. She just needed to finish breakfast and catch the bus to school.

That’s why she was even there in the first place.

—

The room was cold. That was the only thing she thought of as she stood in the school gymnasium. While the flimsy t-shirt and mandatory long shorts that reached her knees did little to protect her from the blasting A.C., her pumpkin head kept her face warm and safe, the feeling resembling the one she got from laying under her weighted blanket and curling up underneath the comforting pressure.

She was in her last period, P.E., sitting on the bench with all the other girls, waiting for the teacher to finish droning on about the benefits of dodgeball. She glanced to the other side of the gymnasium—the boys were already destroying one another, each hurling the ball with such force as if trying to surpass the speed of light. The loud sounds of laughter and yelps of pain felt overwhelming for Y/N, but thanks to the pumpkin head, she was able to shut it out, rendering the sounds to mere background noise.

It was both scary and amusing how the day could pass by so quickly. It seemed like just a few minutes ago, she was still in her first period, staring out the window, gazing out towards the grey morning skies. Now it was already afternoon, and she couldn’t see it, but the rainclouds indeed would have lifted, revealing the brilliant glow of the sun beneath.

“Alright girls, pick your teams!” the coach instructed, finally finishing her spiel. Two girls—it was the same ones each time—stood up and took turns picking from the other girls on the bench, making their teams.

Y/N was never much of a fan of dodgeball or sports in general. The idea of having balls hurled at you didn’t exactly appeal to her, and she didn’t think her hand-eye coordination was the best either. Still, it was mainly the pressure of constantly being alert and moving around that was overwhelming to her. Perhaps she was just lazy, but the thought of her having to dart around, dodging scary foam or rubber—she wasn’t sure—balls was already intimidating, causing her to already want to slump down and lie on the floor. Maybe even play dead.

From what she could tell, most girls felt the same way as her, except for the few that took P.E. a bit too seriously.

She didn’t have a choice here, though, as she was now standing on one side of the gymnasium with her team, the fear of the ball colliding with her body making her tremble uncomfortably.

The game started with a blow from the teacher’s whistle. Some of the girls opposing her dashed towards the center line, picking up their balls while Y/N remained in the back, hoping that she could avoid the crossfire.

Then one of the girls who did, in fact, take P.E. far too seriously (and also did not like Y/N very much) picked up their ball and glanced at her, the way an eagle would lock its eyes on its prey, and at that moment she knew she couldn’t escape. She tried to prepare herself to dodge, but as soon as the ball left the other girl’s hand, she realized her body’s response was neither to fight nor to flight but to freeze.

So there she stood, like a deer still before the headlights of a car that was about to come crashing into them.

And just like that car, the ball was flying towards her, soon to slam into her chest.

And just like that deer, Y/N fell backwards, her tailbone painfully hitting the smooth gymnasium floor, her elbows sliding against it. She couldn’t breathe, the ball having effectively winded her, and everything felt like too much at that moment—the burn from the friction against the ground, the jolt of discomfort that shot up her tailbone straight into her spine, and the feeling of the ball ramming into her ribcage all replaying over and over. It was sensory hell.

The girl who had hit her was walking towards Y/N, stopping a few feet before her. Some of the other girls had paused their playing and were now glancing over at the scene.

“Whoops, sorry.” the girl apologized, but Y/N could tell that she didn’t really mean it, with the way she looked to the side as she said those words, her voice monotone, not conveying either care or regret for the situation; it was glaringly apparent that she did it intentionally and only apologized in fear of the consequences.

And so, Y/N forced herself to sit up with a struggle, slightly wincing at the movement of her muscles.

“It’s fine,” she muttered quietly, getting up and walking towards the bench.

It was what she had wanted originally, to sit on the bench and wait until school was over, but the sight of seeing the other girls having fun playing without her was ever so slightly painful. It was a fun that wasn’t present when she was there with them, a fun that she couldn’t have because she was weird, she was weak.

And she knew that’s what everyone else thought of her, as well. While she wasn’t bullied in school, nor harassed, which she was grateful for, she also couldn’t ignore the strange looks they gave her, the way they hesitated before speaking to her, the whispers behind her back when they thought she wasn’t listening, and worst of all, the snide comment someone would make every once in a while.

‘Weirdo.’ That was the word she heard the most often, but that was from her fellow students. ‘Childish’ was the one most often used by the teachers, as they shook their heads in disapproval of her wearing her pumpkin head at school, calling her mother up for a meeting occasionally to discuss Y/N’s ‘unsociable behaviour.’

Sometimes, she just wanted to tear the pumpkin off her head so that she could walk like all the others, talk like all the others, and live like all the others. And she had tried to do so, she had tried so many times, over and over and over, but every time she tried, she felt so vulnerable, she felt so defenceless.

She felt like a baby bird, freshly hatched from its egg, featherless and unable to fly, just prey for larger animals to feed upon.

So, she wore it for comfort, even if that meant sitting on the bench alone.

—

The crisp September wind was ever so present, making her bring her knees up to her chest as she sat on the wooden park bench, bundling herself up tightly within her own clothing.

In her hands were some uneaten crackers from lunch, and at her feet were some happy ducks quacking for more of said crackers. It made her chuckle, the way they resembled little babies cooing at their mothers, their happiness reflecting in how they waddled closer step by step, like a toddler learning to walk. Y/N felt special, seeing how they were willing to leave the comfort of the pond behind them, walk up to her for food, trusting her like they always did.

And she had rightfully earned it, crumbling the cracker within her closed fist and opening it to throw the crushed pieces towards them, watching them rush towards the food.

She found it a bit pathetic that she felt more of a connection to the ducks in the local park than the peers in her school, but like her pumpkin head, it brought a particular type of comfort to her that nothing else could.

And just like everything else today, that comfort was taken away from her.

Her pleasant moment of serenity was shattered by the sound of a boy laughing at one of the ducks, which had just aggressively ripped a large piece of bread out of his pale hands. The sound was accompanied by the teasing of an older girl, saying how even ducks could beat him for a piece of bread. It was a melody of an interaction that Y/N had never experienced before—the playful teasing of someone instead of subtle, passive-aggressive comments that would confuse her on whether they were jokes or real insults.

Her eyes darted toward and focused on the source of the sound from behind the safety of her pumpkin head, like a cat experimenting with a small piece of yarn.

She could see them clearly, at the other end of the pond; a boy, a girl, and an older woman who Y/N assumed to be their mother.

The mother was sitting on the bench opposing her, watching her children give bread to the ducks and enjoy themselves. A soft yet tired look graced her features; it reminded Y/N of her own mother, who often donned that expression. Her brown hair was tied up neatly in a bun, and her green eyes were reminiscent of the rich colour of summer’s leaves. She was sitting elegantly with her maroon coat and black boots, complete with a beige scarf; Y/N would even say she was overdressed for the weather.

The girl appeared to be a young adult, older than the boy, who appeared to be about her age but not by much, likely his older sister. Her long, platinum blonde hair was tied into a low ponytail, brilliant and shining and impressively long, falling down to her waist in soft waves, her hair reminding her of Rapunzel. She wore a white sweater, cropped short at her waist, with a pair of baby blue jeans that weren’t too tight but at the same time still hugged her curves well; she resembled one of those girls in the magazines you’d see in the store. And her eyes, those light green eyes, were similar to her mother’s; only hers were brighter, like the green grass of a springtime meadow. She was nothing short of gorgeous.

However, no one caught her attention more than the boy.

Freckles adorned his pale skin, pale to an unnatural, concerning degree. If she was younger and still believed that vampires existed, perhaps she would have suspected he was one. Y/N could only assume that he didn’t go out much. His hair was brown and fluffy, tousled and she couldn’t help but find herself yearning to run her fingers through it, to feel if his chocolate brown locks were as soft as they looked. He was dressed in much more plain attire, unlike his mother and sister; he wore a thick striped sweater with the colours of the season, autumn. Aside from the sweater, he only wore some wide-length jeans, darker blue and much more casual and looser than what his sister had on. He looked cute in a strange way. And his eyes, bold and with a fiery spark of amber, practically taking on a golden glow, she couldn’t resist staring at them even though she had learned that it was rude to stare.

It got worse the moment they made eye contact.

His eyes were mesmerizing, drawing her in; so many emotions in one glance alone that made her breath fall short. Even if they were narrowing, confusion and irritation now painted on his face, she couldn’t bring herself to stop staring. It was like she was paralyzed, like she was staring at the scene of a car crash, knowing that she should look away yet not being able to, her body trembling as he was now whispering to his mom and sister, both of them also looking at her with discomfort.

At that very moment, Y/N felt an assortment of feelings.

On the one hand, she was afraid. He was like everyone else, a seemingly ordinary teenage boy just hanging out with his family by the park, likely now creeped out from being stared at by a stranger with a pumpkin head for a face. Now that she thought about it, she was surprised that he didn’t stare at her sooner; most people did. Perhaps now he and his family would leave, uncomfortable with her presence, or maybe he’d start making fun of her to his family, jeering at her appearance and calling her what she was—a weirdo that didn’t know not to stare.

But on the other hand, she was utterly and entirely captivated. She couldn’t stop looking at him even if his reaction was negative. She had never met someone so enthralling; never in the sixteen years she had lived in this town had she seen someone so oddly entrancing. She concluded from that that he must be new, seeing as she had lived in this town her whole life and had never seen him once before. Rarely did they have newcomers in this small town. Thoughts blossomed in her head about who he might be and why he was here.

It was a bizarre feeling. Was this what her stepfather referred to when he spoke of his hormonal teenage years? She didn’t know.

But what she did know was that the boy had stepped away from his family and was now circling around the pond, marching his way directly towards her, sending her straight into a newfound state of panic, her body freezing against her will. At that moment, she was sent back into P.E. class all over again, but this time he was the dodgeball. A beguiling, enchanting dodgeball, but terrifying and approaching her at a rapid pace nonetheless.

And like in P.E., she was paralyzed, continuing to helplessly stare, all the while trembling in her spot as he neared her, stopping a few feet before her and crossing his arms over his chest.

“What are you staring at?”

next chapter soon...

[whisperingthorns]

If I could have cover art for my fic. It would literally be this. Look how gorgeous it captures the vibe I want so perfectly guys ugh.

They’re so talented I’m gonna die just from looking at it.

[safe-by-dawn]

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.

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❝ just wanna be one of your toys, tonight❞

creepypasta x incubus!reader | drabble, how you meet, general dating headcanons | graphic descriptions of violence, descriptions of nsfw/smut | not proofread

warnings: yandere tendencies, unhealthy relationship habits but it's okay because everyone in this fic is unhinged, cannibalism with a sexual context, piquerism/knife kink, tentacles, teratophilia, pheromones used by r!, canon violence, LJ's section alludes to r! mutilating a p*de,Slenderman controls r!s food intake (?), guys this is kind of messed up pls

Eyeless Jack | Jeff The Killer | Laughing Jack | Slenderman | Toby Rogers

req: OMG. creepypasta fics. i love them. can you uhmmm. can you write headcanons for an incubus reader. with like eyeless jack, toby, masky and hoodie? ignore this if you dont do that sorta stuff im just jumping on a request train rn ghnjgjkejnjngf

authors note: unfortunately, I'm not super informed about the Marble Hornet boys so I did not include them ;'3 Also I did want to do the typical sexy incubi reader but then I didn't so enjoy demonic, somewhat feral, reader and his equally as fucked up lovers

Eyeless Jack —

There was silence when you first laid your eyes on him. As you're both demons who preyed on humans, it was akin to throwing two hungry wolves into a fighting ring.

Your prey, emphasis on yours, had been yours for damn near a week. You've been sneaking into their dreams, draining them of slivers of their essence by bringing them to climax in their wildest dreams. They would grin brightly the first few times but as the week progressed, they began realizing how exhausted they felt and those sexy wet dreams suddenly felt more morbid than exciting.

So your lips curl as you hunch over their head and bare your mouth full of fangs. Your hiss sounds like nails on a chalkboard and your jaw unhinging more than humanely possible as your forked tongue drips with viscous liquid. Jack steps back, his scalpel glinting in the moonlight as he returns the hiss with a gravelly snarl.

Oh, people think of "Sex on Legs" of a man when they imagine an incubus. That's the aim of your pheromones and magic after all. Everyone's ideal of a masculine body is what you morph into. Muscular, fat, hairy, clean-shaven, short or tall; whatever their genitals desire is what you distort their brain into seeing.

Your true form was a whole other story. You were a demon. It didn't matter if you were once human or if you were born in Hell itself. You were different now.

"They are mine," Your lips twitch and curl with every syllable. Fingers digging deeper into the skull of your prey. You don't know this demon's name and you're unsure of how strong he truly is but you dig your heels into the ground.

Jack pauses. His growling ceases as he loosens and tightens his grip on his scalpel.

He's had his run-ins with others "like" him. Eldritch beings, proxies of eldritch beings, and such others. However, incubi was new for him. He half-expected a stout creature with leathery wings and horns like those illustrations in the yellow pages of demonology books.

"...What do you need from them?" He wants to bargain. He doesn't have to but he does anyway. Partly from curiosity and partly from his own hunger...for you.

He wonders what you taste like. Jack wouldn't admit it then but he licked his needle-sharp fangs at the thought of your flesh in his mouth and your blood flowing down his throat like the most decadent wine.

"Soul," you answer as a sickening crunch resounds through the room just as your index finger burrows deeper, "Their brain, need".

"Good, I don't need that." Jack points the sharp end of his scalpel to his stomach. "Here, everything I need is here," he then aims his weapon at you with a loose grip; "Share, yes?"

Your lips hide your fangs and you tilt your head, swaying your head as you try to weigh the options. Other demons could be rather tricky. Sharing wasn't in most of their vocabulary. However, this one was...different.

"Share, yes".

That is how the two of you met. His masked visage and the tar-like substance that escapes from his humanoid eye sockets intrigue you. You had watched him cut open your prey with medical precision so he could carefully remove the organ he craved.

"Name is...?" Jack's pointed ears twitch from beneath his hoodie. He turns his head towards yours and if he were human he might have flinched from the way your nose brushes the bump of his mask. But he isn't, so he doesn't.

"Jack. My name is Jack," he brings one leathery hand to rest upon your cheek. It stains your skin and Jack's thumb rests precariously close to your lower lash line. The silence is a prompt for you to continue and you whisper your name, chewing on your lower lip after which makes Jack scoff in mild amusement.

Your relationship initially begins due to Jack's desire. He craves you in such a visceral way he doesn't know what to do with it anymore. It pains him that he doesn't sleep because he is certain that the number of times he's unravelled at the thought of you should already beckon you into his brain. But Jack isn't a human.

He's a demon. So, he decides to use victims to lure you. He wasn't sure how to go on about it at first but after tilting his head down at the moaning woman writhing in her bed, whispering your name, he takes her to his home.

When you visit your prey's dreams it's plagued with images of the eyeless demon and once you manifest into thin air he wastes no time pinning you to the wall with his inhuman strength.

"Jack!" you snarl in alarm and he releases you, smiling. His blue mask was placed elsewhere, instead, he hid his eyes behind tattered bandages. His teeth were so sharp you felt yourself tense.

You become something akin to a pet. Jack learns how to keep you captive in his home, locked behind bars and ancient runes written in blood. Despite the lack of freedom, you couldn't say he doesn't spoil you.

He brings you his victims. Dazed from whatever supernatural effect he has and sore from his impromptu surgery. They always scramble in alarm, panicked and disorientated before they spot you.

Then, Jack relishes in your vicious lunges. Watches from the outside as you crush their skulls open to fill your stomach.

When he eventually makes you trust him enough (Stockholm Syndrome is one beautiful side effect) he brings you to hunts with him. You're the shadow that hangs upside down from the ceiling when his victims wake up and shake, paralyzed as Jack digs through their layers of skin, muscles and fat. Your grin is hauntingly ethereal and inhuman as you lean down to kiss their trembling lips.

Jack wonders if you smell his desire. You do. But it's normal. Your pheromones were meant to attract sexual partners after all but your gaze does linger on Jack the more the scent of charred earth burns whenever you're pressed to his back.

"Teasing me?" He would mutter. Silence would be his reply and all he'd feel is your supple skin brushing on his ashen grey skin, nosing insistently to his neck. "I know you can talk (Y/N)" his needle and thread continue threading through the patchwork of skin.

"Why won't you touch me?" that makes him freeze. Jack had thought about it. Every time he saw you kiss your victims, or rip them to shreds. You were fire dancing in the wind and Jack can't justify his need to own you but he doesn't care.

"Because if I touch you, I won't be able to stop"

"Who said I'd want you to stop?"

Jack tugs on the blood-soaked thread. It glints in the harsh lighting of his desk lamp, briefly looking like a sliver of light.

"I'll sink my teeth into you, tear you apart and consume you".

His head turns as you grab his chin. His bandages tugged away and you chuckled as you saw the ugly gored-out holes. He hasn't told you the whole story but you know what scars he did have were all human-made.

"You can take my flesh if you want, Jack".

The thread snaps.

Jack belatedly realises that since you were not human either, your resistance to pain was just as crazy as your regenerative abilities. He takes you in a way that feels genuinely primal. Two animals going at it, blood smeared along the floors and walls while claws and fangs puncture into flesh.

You two give sex a whole new meaning. Jack finishes inside of you as he laps up at the gash on your neck, groaning as his dexterous tongues (yes, tongues) feel your pulsing veins dancing on them. You encourage his ferocity with saccharine sweet calls of his name.

Sometimes, as silly as it sounds, you make him feel human again. He swears the shrivelled thing in his dusty ribcage beats thunderously whenever you dig your fingers into the back of his thighs.

You were a never-ending feast. A banquet he will never tire from. The cell he kept you in wasn't in use anymore but he swears if you ever even think of going away from his side he would keep you in there until the sun exploded.

There'll eventually be a balance in your relationship. Once you gain his trust, you might as well carve out his insides to nestle between his blackened bones and allow his tar-like blood to keep you warm. He'll do whatever it takes to ensure no one, human or non-human, will keep you apart.

He thinks it is absolutely healthy if you return the sentiment.

Jack doesn't stray from you. He is devoted. The type of person to ensure you're always full, from his essence or from others, he will provide whatever you need.

Close-promixity. He doesn't have to be touching you, just wants you near.

Will bite you. Hard. Not in a cute nibbling way. Legitimately bites you to sustain himself and thinks it's romantic that you're inside of him.

He is more human than you at times. He enjoys human comforts. The internet, a bed, a shower. He doesn't need it, you're both demons after all. But they're a luxury that he treasures.

If "others" wander into your territory, Jack's growls turn spine-chilling. A chittering, gravelly, snarl that heightens in volume as he curls his lips. He'll unmask, scalpel forgotten as veins bulge into the back of his hands and his footsteps suddenly get heavier. The one time someone had stumbled on you while you were feeding, you swore you saw wisps of black smoke smoulder from Jack's skin and the faint sound of fire crackling.

Miiight be the most protective one of the bunch.

You having sex with your prey does not bother Jack. Your sex with him is much more solidifying, oath-binding and skin-scarring. Besides, he knows you need actual souls to be sustained.

Jack's not sure how long he will be "alive" but if he's dying you're coming with him, (Y/N). He would burn the world down for you but death won't keep you apart.

Jeffery Woods, Jeff the Killer —

"What. The. Fuck?" Jeff's damaged facial muscles could barely twitch or tug on his cheeks due to his insane self-mutilation, however, he manages to furrow his brows hard enough that he feels his cheekbones spasm as they attempt to frown.

The married couple he had been stalking laid dead on their mahogany bed and there was some sort of freak over them.

Your eyes were almost as wide as his as you slip three of your fingers into your bloody mouth, sucking them clean with an obscene sigh of satisfaction.

"Too...late," Jeff's "nose" burns as he surges forward. His boots track mud and water across the bedroom and your grin is maniacal as he unsheathes his hunting knife from his hip.

"You fucking bitch!"

Truth be told, you spotted Jeff during one of your nightly visits to the husband's dreams. His white outfit contrasts so sharply in the dark it almost seems haughty. A little "look at me"-sy if you could put it into words.

Jeff brandishes his hunting knife and you twist out of the way to instead latch onto the ceiling. His bloodshot eyes earn a pleasant shiver that spreads warmth to the thing between your crotch.

He was goddamn grotesque. Skin leathery, eyes so painfully dry and irritated it rimmed red and that cut-up smile? His yellow teeth and red gums are splashes of colour since they're no longer hidden by his cheeks. His jet-black hair whips furiously against his face as one hand reaches up to grab your ankle.

Your yell is more of a screech and Jeff wrestles you on the body of the wife. Her bones and nipple piercings dig into your back as Jeff digs his knife into your shoulder.

"They were fucking mine! You goddamn cunt! Stupid little bitch!" he's more robust than a regular human. Then again, a regular human would've died from his "cosmetic" surgeries a while ago.

You can still his heartbeat in his chest though. Slow but there.

He pulls the knife out and you exclaim once he stabs you once again. The toothy edge of the blade was meant to inflict pain every time he pulled out and Jeff's cheeks lifted into a gleeful expression as he watched you writhe in pain.

But then.

"Mom?" Jeff locks up. You turn your head to the shadow under the door but Jeff puts the knife to your eye and your snarling lowers into a hissing.

Jeff does not hurt kids. The way he stares down at you with stormy grey blues shows that though he has no idea how to slaughter you he will try to if you even think of laying a hand on her. Much to his relief, you close your eyes and go lax.

You don't hurt kids either.

"Momma?" The doorknob shakes and Jeff knows the kid probably smells iron but the two of you are as rigid as the corpses on the bed.

"Did you need something, Kavi?" The voice that comes out your lips isn't yours, it's the father's and Jeff only loosens his grip from surprise. Kavi's feet shuffle nervously and whatever stuffy she's holding squeaks lightly in pressure. "I heard noises...screaming" She hears the smile in your voice as you tell her to go back to bed.

"But-"

"Go to sleep, Kavi" This time it's a command and Kavi's shadow straightens up before her footsteps fade away.

Jeff's breathing had slowed throughout the interaction. He's good at being quiet when he needs to be. Not so flashy when the situation calls for it. A soft spot for children. How noble.

He presses on your chest with the heel of his palm but then gets up and sighs as he runs his fingers through his hair. You turn onto your stomach, pushing the husband onto the floor as you watch Jeff glare at you with contempt as he paces.

"I've been watching them", Your eye roll makes him grunt. "I know, I saw. But, he's mine" He huffs at the sight of the twitching body on the floor. "Could've left me the wife, asshole" Jeff follows the trail of blood down your chest and stomach before ripping his eyes away as you pluck her eyes out to pop into your mouth.

Jeff swears he's never been harder.

"I was hungry".

Your grin like the cat that got the cream when Jeff rushes towards you and grabs the column of your neck to push you down.

For a guy who hasn't gotten laid, ever, he sure knew what to do. You helped, obviously. When Jeff's fingers tremble and hover you would goad him to do better, huff that you're getting bored and he needs to fuck your hole/s with more passion. That'd get that freak going.

He sure was in love with his knives too. Obsessed with the way you shiver and shudder every time the blade cuts into your skin or when he digs the tip of it in and you arch into the edge.

Jeff thinks his first time suits him. His life is fucked up in all sorts of ways so of course, his first time was with a demon. He remembers you bouncing on his lap, eyes glowing as you squeeze his dick and moan his name before he saw white.

When he wakes up, he shoots up straight and throws the rag away from his face. The bodies are stiff now and Kavi's older sister is pulling into the driveway. He wears his clothes and isn't quiet about it as he hears Kavi crying about nightmares while she rushes out.

Jeff's DNA being all-over the crime scene is something he does not give a shit about. What are the police going to do? Arrest a dead man? Hah! They'd need to catch him first and he's been dodging them since he was 13 years old and he's 24 now. They're shit at their job.

That one night spirals into Jeff fucking into his fists for a week straight. Unable to properly think without your whispers breezing past his ears in the wind. He's already insane but you've turned the broken notch higher.

Thankfully for him, you're just as hopeless. He isn't quite sure how long you've been stalking him but when he finally senses eyes on him he's excited because he knows it's you.

Your relationship is physical at first. Love isn't quite in either of your vocabulary but this relationship turns something close to it. He whispers your name in the wind and then he feels your weight on his back as your arms materialize from thin air and squeeze him.

"What do you need, executioner?" Jeff snorts at the title, shrugging you away as he unbuckles his belt and pushes the hanging body as he passes it. Jeff sits on the desk and pats his thighs.

"The fuck kind of name is that?" You cage him between your arms and lean in to lick the scratches near his eye.

"You don't like it?"

"I ain't no one's fucking executioner"

You roll your eyes and he clicks his tongue at it. "The fuck's that for?" You're still not sure what the fuck Jeff is, for all intents and purposes he's just something in limbo. Dead but not quite. Alive but not quite. But his ego is still that of a man and you're in your own purgatory as you decide if you enjoy it or not.

When Jeff realises he does care for you, it's a strange time for him. He won't ask if you've eaten or if you're hurt because suddenly he knows just from a glance. It's frightening to him. He doesn't call for you for a long time and he grits his teeth as you don't come for him either.

Stuck in-between again. He's relieved but he's angry. He's furious but sad. Are you alright? Do you hate him? Do you not care for him? How dare you!? But, also, great! He doesn't have time to be anything more! But how dare you? Do you not realise how much he cares about you!?

When Jeff finds out it's because some idiots in a cult managed to trap you?

He feels numb as he prepares to absolutely destroy them. With a one-track mind, he kicks open the doors of their stupid, dilapidated doors and lays waste on whoever isn't you. He burns their church down. His senses only rush back towards him when he has you in his arms.

That night, he's tender and sweet. It disturbs you a bit but you preen under his hands as he watches you heal your wounds in your own demonic ways.

"You came for me"

"...I'm your executioner, aren't I?"

Don't expect labels from Jeff but he does expect commitment to an extent. He won't be angry if you fuck around but he will fuck you harder if you mention that flesh bag being good.

He's bad at talking but once you manage to pry his mouth open he can be insightful about certain things. He's an observant man just so fucking egotistical.

You are his and he's yours but don't mention it too many times, he can get spooked. Did you expect stability from Jeff? Good, because you aren't getting it.

He wants you to participate in his kills. It's a great bonding activity! He is glad he has you as his buddy/lover. At least one person in this hell-forsaken world cares for him.

This does mean he can get a bit clingy at times, maybe even bordering on obsessed, but he doesn't give a shit. Even if you are a demon from hell, Jeff will find a way to find you.

Carved his name into you. No questions about it.

It will take years before he even says anything close to an "I love you" but he says in his own ways. He's tightlipped about you when his enemies catch up to him and if he feels that you're even a bit threatened he will fight tooth and nail until you're safe.

Jeff knows he's the last person that deserves a wish to be granted but he squeezes you tighter in his arms when he thinks of growing older. He's scared of dying, always has been, but the thought of leaving you alone/being without you? It terrifies him.

When his hair starts getting more salt and peppery he gets quite grumpy every time you mention it. He does soften when he notices you "ageing" as well - he knows you aren't and it's just your shapeshifting but he swears he'll do anything to stay by your side for as long as he can.

Laughing Jack —

Oh, he was familiar with your kind. Laughing Jack mainly targets families but he's been terrorizing the world since the 1800's, he knows the vices of men. He shoos them away (which is a nice way of saying he disembowels them if they get territorial over their prey).

What he didn't expect was to see you panting raggedly with your chin dripping with blood and pieces of what once was a man under your claws.

Laughing Jack's eyes shoot towards the child he had been "befriending". He knew he was suffering and Laughing Jack truly did not care — he wanted to have fun mutilating the entirety of his family and was only here because he wanted to visit his "friend".

The hair on the back of your neck pricks and your jaw unhinges as your eyes land on the lanky being.

You know of him too. This entity that was once brought to earth to help a lonely child turned into a demonic entity that relished in the pain of humans.

You're also aware he has an affinity to target children to bring back to his circus of horrors under the guise of "saving them" and even though you're a creature of hell, you stand in front of the cowering boy with your teeth on display.

"This is new", Laughing Jack giggles out. His claws curled in front of his mouth as he stalked forward. Oh, he knows why little Carl wanted to run away from home. His mother did a shit job at protecting him from his drunk stepfather and Jack was going to do just that.

He was going to let Carl run away. Never said Carl would be alive when he did. But Carl never asked.

"Usually you whores are busy with the adults, not the kids". The very implications of what he said have you snapping your teeth. He raises his hands in faux surrender with a mocking grin.

"Gone soft? Who were you here for?"

Your lips twitch and Jack pauses just as he's about to step out of the shadows. Carl's weeping and sniffling echoed in the room. Jack's plastered smile turns sour as seconds tick by.

You know better than to anger him. So you will yourself to speak: "His mother". Jack bounces back like nothing had happened and gleefully strides over into the light.

"J-Jack? Jack!" "Carl!" Your hand shoots out to grab at the boy but he rushes into Jack's claws and sobs freely into his chest as Jack shushes and cradles him. Jack gingerly plucks the stretched-out shirt back over Carl's shoulder and rubs his back.

"Then you can go!" Jack cheers as he cradles Carl. "Go, go! Go and get that bitch of a woman!" You march up to him and grow taller tower over him. Jack's neck cranes to meet your eyes and he swears his neck creaks. He's never had to look up at anyone before.

"The boy isn't yours!" Jack's claws envelope Carl's head as the boy covers his ears. "Protective? Your kind usually has a one-track mind, never known demons to have sympathy", Jack's eyes squish into crescent moons.

"Have you gone soft, demon?"

Carl isn't sure what happens next. He just knows that when he wakes up the next day, he isn't scared and his mom isn't there. Instead, there's you. He isn't scared of you, he trusts you and he knows that you're his older brother.

He goes to school with you by his side and when he comes back, you've made food for him. Carl doesn't know where all the money comes from or why there are foggy memories of horror when he stares into space but your voice always snaps him back to reality.

Carl doesn't know where you go off to at night but he knows he isn't scared because Laughing Jack always pops up in the house.

Carl doesn't know how lucky he is, not really, but as he grows old he does feel gratitude. He doesn't know nor care why you're not his brother on papers or that his mom isn't in the picture. He knows he loves you though.

And he likes Laughing Jack too. Even if he's scary sometimes.

"Honey! You're home!" You glare at Jack as you step into the kitchen, wiping blood from your chin as you shed your jacket and your human skin. Jack looks comically out of place. He waits for you to shed before he gathers you in his arms.

This arrangement was odd. Out of place. But you learned not to hate it. Maybe Laughing Jack was right, maybe you were getting soft but you were glad that Carl was safe. Even if you had to pretend to be his older brother and then deal with Laughing Jack at night.

He sways with you in the kitchen, humming an old tune and you groan as your shape settles. He grins as he runs his claws down your back then holds you firmly.

Jack wasn't interested in sex and you were okay with that. He just wants to hold you like this, an affection growing within him as he inhales your scent.

"Carl's at a sleepover, must be having fun", Jack twirls you and you allow it with a ghost of a smile. "If he was at my circus, the streamers would be intestines and the snacks! Oh, the snacks, (Y/N) Darling!" Your lips cover his and his brow raises as he returns the kiss.

"Carl's fine with regular streamers, Jack. He's human, let him remain as one", Jack's smile almost seems sincere as he looks up at you. "Speaking of humans, (Y/N) Dearest", Jack thwacks a roll of newspaper on your chest.

"Humans are getting scared of you, rabid incubus, and Carl's mysterious older brother isn't holding up! You need to scram", You sigh deeply as you pull away. Jack chases to cling to your back.

"He'll miss his friends"

"I'll bring them to my circus! He'll always see them whenever he wants!"

"You're not saying no", Jack purrs and cackles after you close your eyes and nod. He didn't really need permission but you appreciate him asking either way. Besides, he had a point! Carl could play with them whenever he wishes to so he won't be too sad.

Your relationship with Laughing Jack might be the most curious one out of everyone else. Carl made you more human than you'd like to admit and you made Laughing Jack more colourful (on the inside) than he'd ever tell.

He doesn't love Carl. Cares for, sure. He doesn't love you. But he wants your affections, that much he knows.

He brings you gifts, some of your real food, toys and all sorts. Even some for Carl because he knows you like it when he does it. Jack becomes a sort of family guardian. Anyone who tries to harm Carl doesn't just have you to worry about, Laughing Jack's looming over your shoulder too.

You share kisses, hugs and hand holdings if he's being annoying about it but both of you know Laughing Jack prefers not to go below the belt. He prefers that you seek physical pleasure elsewhere. He claps with glee every time you toss him the body, turning the corpse into a new throne or cake or whatever he wishes.

When Carl grows old and moves out, he knows that the porch light will always be on for him. He knows his "older brother" isn't human but he doesn't care. He also knows Laughing Jack isn't just his imagination but he doesn't care. Carl knows you're family and that's all that matters.

You tend to the house at times but after Carl moves out, Jack all but whisks you away into his circus. The spirits of dead children crowd around you, sharing an affection towards you due to Laughing Jack's own emotions. You tolerate them enough but spend most of your time with your Jack.

Laughing Jack doesn't know if he'd die for you, he doesn't even know if he's able to die really, but he would slaughter millions if it meant that you'd be content.

"Do you love me, (Y/N) Darling?" Laughing Jack tickles your side, giggling as you swat his hands away. You turn to face him and he relaxes in your hold, minutely but you still feel the way his muscles unbind.

"Do you love me, Jack Dearest?" His eyes soften and you swear you see the way baby blue bleeds into the monotone grey.

"I do, I love you more than I'd like to admit".

Slenderman —

Your head tilted at the shape in the trees. The person beneath you twitched and rattled out a groan as they clung to the little bits of life they still had. A quick snatch and grab of more of their brains puts an end to it rather quickly.

Swivelling your head you gaze at the drawings on their walls. Among the illustrations of the forest views that they drew and the maps, you note the odd scribbles.

This prey had odd dreams at times. Some nights, you find yourself fighting against a force just to invade their thoughts but you think of it as nothing but their own will. Some humans had quite a resistance to your kind.

You squint at the marker drawings, getting up from the bed to walk closer. Plucking the note that peeked from under the map only to gasp as the map fell onto your feet. It revealed more deranged scribblings and your stomach twisted into knots as you realised what entity your prey had been hunted by.

Your breath shudders and you take a step back only to stiffen as a cold wind whispers up your spine.

"Forgive me!" You kneel, bowing your head as you stare at the wooden floors in fear. This being - it was the very thing that crawled out of Hell. It was older than most if not everything that roamed this earth and you had taken its prey.

The crackling of trees makes tears brim your eyes. It sounds thunderous and it only grows louder. You force your eyes shut as the branches drag along the glass windows and you plead under your breath as you feel Him getting closer and closer.

When he speaks, your brain feels as though it's being pulled apart. Was this punishment from your past victims? You're struggling to understand what he says but his voice soothes into something tangible.

"Wha...What?" You lift your head and turn to face the empty, open, window.

"Come".

Slenderman was intimidating even for an incubus like yourself. As he towers over you, you feel your prey climb up out of your throat. But then, then, his spindly fingers stroke the side of your face.

"Please me, incubus", his tendrils sway in the wind and they lower and slither through the dead leaves to curl around your ankles and thighs.

His "suit" pulses and throbs, particularly between his legs and you see the slit glistening with wetness, white cockheads poking out.

Oh.

Well. Who were you to say no?

Slenderman doesn't speak in a language familiar to humans, it brings some semblance of comfort to you; his words and expressions are more archaic but it's undoubtedly the language of hellish creatures like yourselves.

His cocks are just as inhuman and long as everything else about him and those tendrils that sprout from his back? Oh, they make the best restraints. The barely there scales on them shudder every time he's close to an orgasm and since they're so close to you, the rattling of it makes you whimper in pleasure.

Slenderman allows you to go but he keeps his eyes on you.

The way you kill and tear into humans, the pleasure you take in it - you're nothing but an incubus but Slenderman wants you.

And like his other "toys" he is merciless in making you just his.

You're not allowed to hunt anyone other than the ones he tells you to. Not allowed to even think of craving anyone. You're his incubus and his alone.

Who are you to say no?

It wasn't all that bad. Sometimes, he would push the limits of your hunger if he wanted to "test" the prey but you were obedient to his whims.

Sometimes, he'd crawl into your mind to truly see if you were all his and though painful and vomit-inducing the rewards after were enough to make it worth it.

After all, compared to the rest of his toys, you were the most pampered.

"Master", a purring noise is all around you but with your sight taken from you (a feat that only a few beings could do). The only thing you can do to locate Slenderman is through touch. But the thing is, he's touching you every-fucking-where.

You were suspended in the air, legs spread with tendrils and arms bound to your back as your cloudy eyes stared aimlessly at the night sky.

"Patience, incubus"

Love is hard to pinpoint in this relationship. It's more of an endearment. His feelings for you were the same feeling as someone would feel towards a dog. If you disobeyed and bit him, he'd put you down no question - that much you knew.

He doesn't mind when you kill other incubus or succubi though. Not that he seeks them with the same intent he had with you, he is a bit addicted to you, he seeks them with the intent to make you jealous.

He knows you had feelings for him. Depends on him. His word was law.

He likes seeing his dog get jealous. He doesn't assist in your fights with the other demon, you have to be the strongest to be his and so he merely watches and rewards you once you win.

The one time you lost though? Oh, he was so disappointed, (Y/N). The incubus stood over you, clutching the stump of an arm as he hisses at you. You know he is about to rip your throat and you kick your legs as he kneels over you.

He grabs your chin and forces your head to be tilted up, exposing your neck. You were going to die, you were going to die!

"You're pathetic, pet", the incubus over you chokes, blood spurting out from the hole in his chest before he all but crumbles into dust. One of your eyes is swollen shut, bruised and bleeding all over and Slenderman cradles you in his arms as he helps you stand.

"I'm sorry, Master" Your tears are wiped away. His tendrils lift you into the air and close to his chest as you weep.

"You'd be dead without me, pet. Completely useless".

Toby Erin Rogers —

"...Get out of the fucking way" Toby had the coldest eyes you've ever seen. He had been tasked to kill the man whose skull was being split open by your hands.

He must think Toby was here to save him because he swipes a hand towards him, groaning desperately as his eyes shake. Toby's nose scrunches up in distaste. The man looked like a goddamn pug. His eyes bulged out and gaping his mouth like a dead fish.

"He's my kill". You furrow your brows as you stubbornly dig your thumbs deeper into the crack of his skull.

"Oops".

Toby throws a hatchet and it slices through your shoulder, pinning you to the wall from the strength he used. You claw at the handle, kicking your feet to try and push yourself from the wall but Toby simply ignores you to slash the man's throat with with his other hatchet.

"You asshole! He's mine!" Your thrashing makes him grunt as he slams his hand on your other shoulder. He grabs the hilt of his weapon and squints his eyes at you.

"S-Shut the fuck up, cunt. You can still eat the bitch, shithead", Toby isn't nice about tugging his weapon out. His brows furrowed at the sight of your torn flesh.

Toby has seen it all. After meeting a monochrome clown and a burned woman with a mask hunting for a guy named Jeff, among other creatures, Toby is unphased at the sight of a demon.

This means the already cold, unfeeling, man was not at all impressed. His eyes wander to your chest and your legs but scoffs as he cleans the edge of his hatchet on his sleeves.

"You asshole!" Toby waves his hand nonchalantly as he retreats. His plan is foiled as you latch onto his back, teeth sinking through his clothes and into the protective pads. Reaching back, his gloved hands grasp onto you to throw you across the room. The desk lamp shatters onto the floor as you lay out on the surface.

Toby rolls both his shoulders, sniffing in annoyance as he picks at the deep marks on the plastic of his protective wear. "Shit, your teeth suh-suh-sunk...through" his eyes glower as you peel yourself from the office table.

"Now, you're just ask, asking for it".

After that rough night, you stayed away from ever-crossing paths with Slenderman and his stupid proxies. Even with your supernatural regenerative healing, he slashed so deep at one point you're certain he had his hatchets go through you.

Your body ached for days. Not in a sexy way.

Toby, however, found it hard to get you out of his head. He knows an incubus' pheromones linger when they experience intense emotions and subsequently, so do its effects. But after 2 months of aching for you, he has had enough.

He takes a while to track you down. He's only human at the end of the day but when he finds your prey he reenacts the first time you met.

"You," venom was dripping from your words as you hissed at him but Toby simply raised from the armchair in the corner. The office of the poor psychotherapist you hunted reminded him of his childhood so he gladly focuses on your figure to focus.

He pays close attention to the way you get into the defensive, climbing the desk to put distance as you show him your fangs.

"I've got a pro, proposition for you" Toby walks towards the closet and to your surprise, your prey is tied up like a goddamn turkey. He falls flat on his face, breaking his nose, and squirms as muffled pleas come from him.

"You don't have to waste days making your prey succumb to you. I'll wrap them up...luh-like a fuuucking present and...you can munch on 'em"

"...In exchange?" You can't tell if he's smiling. But you hear it in his voice as he says:

"Fuck me".

For Toby, you provide relief and comfort. The beginning of the relationship was tough waters to navigate through, mainly for you. Despite providing you with food when he craves some physical intimacy, Toby is one scary motherfucker to be bare of clothes with.

It's a feat considering who was the demon in the relationship here.

Toby keeps his mouthguard on. For a whole 2 years, he never once took it off. By the time he does though? His eyes are closed and he's muttering for something to leave him alone. His anxiety crept up on him as he stared at the popcorn ceiling of the motel he had chosen for that night.

"Toby" his hand trembles and not because you're deep inside of him. His scarred chest falls and raises in rapid motions and you're aware that he needs to breathe. So, despite his heart-clenching whimpers you tear his hands away from his face to pull his mouthguard off.

"No!" Toby tries to cover the scar on his cheek. You shush him and pull out, carefully arranging your limbs so he can wrap his arms around you.

That night ended sourly. He shoves you away and dresses in a rush.

When he reaches out for you again, you don't pry. You've grown soft for the man but know he isn't exactly the touchy-feely type. Toby wonders if you're thinking of his face as he plows into you and his thoughts are so loud he has the audacity to grow flaccid.

As an incubus? That was a first for you.

"...Ugly mug, huh?" You eye him as you suckle on his cockhead. Now? He was going to talk about that night, now? Okay. Sure.

"No, I like your face" Toby grunts, clearly not believing you. "Just sayin' that 'cuz my dicks in your face". Well, at least he is aware of the timing too.

He exclaims as you push him down on the bed and straddle him.

"I like your stupid face, Toby. I like your stupid fucking voice, your body, your sarcasm and your shitty personality. Is that so hard to believe?"

This relationship turns warmer after this night. He throws extra snacks your way and he appreciates it when you help him with stitching himself up from his "assignments".

When his paranoia and anxiety get the best of him, he finds it...nice...that he doesn't have to ice out his emotions anymore. He feels so human.

Toby is aware you're fully capable of handling your own affairs and so, he doesn't interfere. He's terrified of the Slenderman and even growing slightly curious about you too. It's a tough balance for Toby - it's not like Slenderman cares about work-life-balance.

So, don't expect to spend cosy days spent together somewhere sweet. Your version of date nights will be following him along on his missions or him watching you hunt and then spending hours together in the victim's home.

It brings Toby comfort. You're not human but the way you move through the house with him, it reminds him of simpler times; a past he no longer remembers but knows he cherishes. He thinks about the two of them being a domestic couple a lot.

"Remembering?" Toby says nothing as he kisses the nape of your neck. The two of you had washed up in the shower and the victims were neatly displayed in the living room with symbols all over the room. You two had all night to just...be.

"Never got muh-my memories back then, not...gonna get 'em now" He pulls away to grab the bottle of wine from you. When he settles on the office couch, you drop onto his lap with a plate of sandwiches.

He groans as you teasingly try to feed him but soon relents. He feels a bit ashamed as he struggles to eat "normally" with the open gash on his cheek but as he peeks at your expression he sees nothing but love.

So, Toby squeezes you closer and you say nothing as he allows you to care for him.

[zomb-rabbit]

HIIII !!!

this is my silly writing centric blog where i write fics, headcanons and lil blurbs :)) i take both sfw and nsfw requests, but pretty please check out my rules/preferences/who i write for below before requesting!! thank u for stopping by <3

requests are ; open !!

Masterlist is under construction atm !!

who i write for :

EverymanHYBRID

HABIT

Evan Myers

Marble Hornets

Tim Wright

Masky

Brian Thomas

Hoodie

Creepypasta

Toby Rogers

Eyeless Jack

Jane the Killer (fem/gn reader only)

Nina the Killer

BEN

(i'm also cool with writing for any poly creeps/mh/emh x reader relationships :))

Overwatch

Cole Cassidy

Ashe (fem/gn reader only)

Reaper / Gabriel Reyes

(this includes the Blackwatch era! just lemme know, without specifics I'll assume it's current era)

Marvel / X-Men

The Worst Wolverine

X-Men movies Wolverine

Deadpool

requesting preferences :

let me know if you want the reader to be masc, fem or gn, and if you're wanting nsfw I'd appreciate if you want an amab or afab reader as well :)

feel free to send super specific stuff !! if you have an idea in your head you really like but you're not sure how to write it yourself or anything like that, i'm soso down to do my best, i just need those details !!!

if you're going on anon, i think the different emojis for everyone are really fun :) i've always loved it on my previous fic blogs

requesting rules :

nothing pregnancy or breeding related, so very sorry ik that's a lot of y'alls jam 😞

nothing with a child reader or where the characters are parents

no extreme or bathroom kinks

no non/dubcon or cnc

nothing to do with the whole yandere shabang- i can do stalking and creeper tendencies but that kinda stuff isn't really my thang

[whisperingthorns]

(Yandere Ticci Toby x Reader)

Charmed by Shadows:

Chapter 2: Threads of Fate

(Y/n) (L/n) was a quiet girl. For the most part anyway. She had learned every early on that people in general preferred her that way. Watered down so they wouldn't choke too easily. In the woods though, that was her escape, she didn’t have to water herself down for the animals and the trees, they just let her do whatever. She could sit and stare at nothing and they wouldn’t even mind. Today had been a rough day, and even though she really shouldn’t go when the sun was beginning to set, she just needed that breath of fresh air to make sense of her head.

So off she went, but something had been bothering her increasingly that even the birds and the trees weren’t helping. She felt watched. By something by someone? She desperately just wanted to brush it off like the first couple of times.

She always had a sense of paranoia she never shared with anyone. How she was convinced that there was a shadow man who followed her ever since she was 10 years old, and when she moved to a new house it took him a minute to find her, but when he did he was in the crevices. Peeking at her between the furniture, the cracks of the closet. Those were just crazy thoughts she had! She didn’t believe them. This felt different than the shadow man though. This felt *physical*, it felt *real*.

At first, she thought it was a bear, then a fox maybe? The bear was more concerning she did live in Maine after all with the largest black bear population in the United States. Having said that she avoided her little spot for a couple of days until she felt it in public too. This was crazy though right? However (Y/n) (L/n) was a fan of horror movies and true crime, and every victim of a stalked case real or fictional started with ‘*Maybe I’m just crazy!*’ She so didn’t wanna be that person.

Her gut was telling her something was wrong, and (Y/n), knew better than to doubt herself. For now, though she just needed some peace. Her finger brushed the weathered wood of the bench she sat down on, she closed her eyes and tilted her head up, letting the cool breeze and the scent of dirt calm her. No. The hairs on her arm stood. No. She wasn’t alone. She wasn’t crazy! There it was the feeling again! There was- *CRRRRRRRAAAACK*. What was that noise? She looked around a bit alarmed at such a loud sound. When she saw it was nothing she relaxed slightly. It happened again. *CRRRRRRAAAACK*. Like wood grinding on wood.

A few feet away, Toby gripped the tree bark, his knuckle white. He had been observing her for weeks and finally reached a conclusion: She was the girl from his dreams. She had to be. It felt almost unreal, seeing her so close after all those weeks of silent observation.

Whatever sick god above was maybe offering something and sending those dreams as a message. Maybe he was being given a gift for all the pain he had been through. A pretty Angel to protect and love. His little angel~ ‘*Don’t worry.*’ He thought. ‘*I’ll take such good care of you,* *promise*.’

This wasn’t like the dreams. She was real, sitting there in the fading light, and for a moment, everything seemed frozen in time. *CRRRRRAAAAACK*! Then, suddenly, she stood up, hearing a distant rumble. Her eyes widened as a loose tree branch, weakened by the wind, cracked and snapped, falling directly toward her.

Toby’s body reacted before his mind did. He lurched from the shadows, darting out just in time to shove her out of the way, the branch crashing down where she had been only moments before. She gasped, her body hitting the ground with a soft thud, startled by the impact.

Her eyes found him—wild, disheveled, and breathing hard. The adrenaline coursing through his veins made his expression even more intense, a stark contrast to the fleeting sense of safety she'd felt a second ago.

‘*Fuckfuckfuckfuckdfuckfuck*!’ Toby thanked whatever twisted god was above that he had gone into town, so he wasn’t wearing his goggles and mask, he was wearing his bandage and his clean sweater, oh god did he even remember to brush his hair?! Whatever he looked like, he knew it wasn’t a proxy and for that, he was grateful.

"Are y-you oh-okay?" Toby asked, voice low and uneven. His words felt almost foreign to him like he hadn't spoken to anyone in years. He kept his gaze on her, lingering a little too long. He hated the way his voice cracked.

She nodded slowly, her heart still racing, but there was something about him—a roughness, an edge—that made her wary. He had saved her, but there was something... unsettling. His eyes never quite met hers for long, and yet they never left her either. What was haunting those amber eyes?

"Thank you... for saving me," she whispered. They were still for a second, Toby on top of her in the middle of the woods. He had underestimated how good those beautiful (e/c) looked up close. He had never been close enough to *smell* her. *‘Like vanilla and strawberries.*’ He thought. Classic some might even consider it basic, but Toby found it enchanting. Simple. Just like her.

“Ah, you can…get off me now.” She said quietly as if scared of being rude. “Oh! Ri-right!” He scrambled off and helped her up, she brushed dirt off her dress when she stood. Toby stepped back slightly, hands clenched at his sides. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. For him, this moment wasn’t about her gratitude; it was about the fact that he’d finally broken the barrier between them. Now, she knew him. She’d remember this meeting, this fateful encounter. And so would he.

“…Hello?” She looked a little concerned. “Huh?” He blinked stupidly. “Your name, I was asking your name.” Toby had a tic, and his neck gave a gross cracking noise, but he remained unfazed, the girl, however, widened her eyes slightly and seemed a bit taken aback, before realizing she was being rude and gave a smile, putting her hands together to hold her bag instead.

“T-Toby.” “Toby.” She repeated. If Toby could have melted into the earth and stayed in a blissful stupor right then and there he would’ve. He never really liked his name. Not for any particular reason it was just…him. His name. He didn’t even like that his proxy name was still his name. Not that ‘Masky’ or ‘Hoodie’ was any better, but it still separated Tim and Brian from what they did. For Toby, it was always just that: Toby. No separation. No escape from the guilt that came with it. (In his opinion he rather be called Toby than something stupid like ‘Jeff the killer’…. no offense Jeff. Actually, all offense. All offense meant.)

But when (Y/n) said it, it sounded wonderful. He wanted her to say it again and again and again. While she cried, while she was happy, when she was nervous and looking for comfort, while he was pleasing her, while in passing. Toby sounded wonderful in that voice.

“Hello?” He spaced out again. “Oh I’m s-sorry, I’m t-tired.” She nodded in understanding. “What's your name?” He asked since it would be rude not to. “(Y/n)” Toby and (Y/n) it sounded right. Sounded good.

“I didn’t realize someone came this deep into the path…since it's overgrown and all, what are you doing here Toby?” Mmmmmmmm say his name again. *Please*. “I live down th-there.” He waved off down the path in a vague direction. “J-just bought the pl-place.” (Y/n) nodded to show she was listening, that polite smile on her face.

“*Oooh*! I think that makes us neighbors! As close as can be anyway. There is no one nearby the house. It's been through some reworking but it is quite old…it’s a bit of a walk to town. Occasionally we get joggers and stuff because of the nature trail but they don’t go in this far and it seems every once in a while maybe we could-”

Toby wasn’t listening, just watching the way the gold of the sunset reflected in her face and eyes. The way she animated herself when she spoke. The way her voice rang in his ears. God, when did he get so mushy? It's okay because it's her, the princess from his dreams, and she never cared about what he did in the dreams so that must be true in real life too right? Toby felt himself relax…he felt his mind…calm to the sound of her voice.

Her phone went off and she pulled it out. “oh gosh that’s my mom, she probably like needs help with something so I have to go but oh! Since we are technically neighbors now, let's give you my number!” She grabbed his hand and quickly scribbled it down without asking, she paused after realizing what she had done. Her face darkening. “Oh gosh I’m sorry I wasn’t-” Toby grabbed her hand. “T-tis’ fine.” He smiled slightly. She smiled back for a second. Was that smile just for him? Or did she give it to everyone she met? “See you around Toby!”

As she walked away, Toby remained rooted in place, eyes fixed on the spot where she had stood. His breathing came in uneven gasps, his mind swirling with thoughts that tangled together like a knot tightening in his chest.

‘*She wasn’t afraid of me.*’

For the first time in as long as he could remember, someone had looked at him—spoken to him—as if he was human. He wasn’t the freak. He wasn’t the monster people whispered about online, the “broken” boy who would forever be a shadow in the woods. No, to her, he had been something else.

*Her protector.*

His heart raced at the thought, and he felt something twist inside him—something dark, but deeply satisfying. She was different from everyone else. She smiled at him and spoke to him like he mattered. No one had done that for years. Maybe ever.

‘*She’s mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.*’

He clenched his fists as his mind spiraled deeper, convincing himself of this new truth. All those nights he’d watched her from afar, listened to her sing, followed her through the woods—this was meant to happen. The princess from his dreams was real, and now, she was tied to him in ways she couldn’t even imagine. He saved her for a reason. She *needed* him, even if she didn’t realize it yet.

‘*She’s destined for me.*’

In his mind, he could still see the way her hand reached out to him, that simple gesture burning into his thoughts. She had touched the darkness and wasn’t afraid. That meant something. It had to.

Toby’s breath quickened as his feelings and curiosity morphed into something more. No longer was he just an invisible watcher. No longer was she some distant fantasy. She was real now, and she belonged to him. His princess. His light in the dark.

And if she ever tried to walk away? **Well, he wouldn’t let her.**

⦻

Tobias Rogers was late. Late late late. After maintaining his mission, he threw on his shoes, hopped on one foot, and headed out the door, quickly making his way into town. After searching the area he knew she would be he breathed a sigh of relief, seeing her sip a coffee, and look around for someone. Perhaps she wanted to see him?

She was looking especially cute today, with her phone held loosely in her hand. She was humming a tune as she walked. Toby paused when she did, he already knew her routine pretty well even if this wasn’t the forest path she liked so much but instead the pavements of the small town of Ravenwood. Knew exactly when she would stop, when she would pause, and where she would sit. She seemed to get distracted by some chalk art on the sidewalk.

She examined it, and once she was satisfied Tobias watched as she moved along. She liked to see the drawings the local children seemed to leave around on the dry sunny days. Until the rain washed it away and she could see a new one. This one was of a big pine tree, and a couple stick figures holding hands. One is much taller than the other.

Toby heard a slight clatter of plastic against concrete. He whipped his head over to his darling and noticed she dropped her phone, but she kept walking, not noticing. Oh dear. His Angel did need his help to keep a watchful eye on her. Tsk tsk. Well, he would just have to return it to her and strike up more conversation. It was only right. He could just text her but Toby had spent all night typing and retyping his message on the phone he had. (The one he would destroy after the mission.) But he added her contact to it, as a little treat to himself. He never did send that message…never mind that now. Toby took a step forward towards the phone and suddenly a figure passed his vision, scooping it up. “Hey (Y/n)!” A voice called out. “You dropped this!”

***Who the fuck was this guy?!***

A tall man, with skin that was almost a golden brown, and a more muscular build passed Toby. He had dark curly brown hair, and Toby couldn’t quite see his face. Toby put his head down and walked a little closer, thankful that the parks had tall bushes and fences as he pretended to check a text on his phone, Toby peeked.

*‘Please be ugly. Please be ugly. Please be ugly’*

The man was not by any means ugly. ‘*FUCK!’* Toby cursed in his head. He had a sculpted face, with intense gray eyes and just a bit of stubble. His eyebrows hung heavy, giving his eyes a more serious look, but when he smiled the man radiated warmth. He was the kind of guy you saw on the cover of romance novels.

“Oh gosh! Thanks, Kai! I didn’t even notice!” You plucked the phone from your friend. You gave him a warm smile. “Haven’t seen you in a while!” Kai’s eyes shifted away playfully. “Ah you know, been busy.”

Toby was grinding his teeth not even minding that the taste of blood flooded his mouth. His pulse picked up. He wanted to leap over the fence and shrubbery rip the phone away and shove ‘Kai’ into the street in hopes he’d get hit by a bus. Kai shoved into your shoulder gently, in a playful way. “You! Missy! Should be more careful! What if I wasn’t around to save your phone huh?”

(Y/n) laughs lightly, the sound like a knife in Toby’s ears. He can’t stand it—this boy, trying to get close to *his princess.*

From the shadows, Toby’s fingers twitch. His thoughts swirl with a sudden violent urge. 'He doesn't belong here. He shouldn’t be near her. ‘*She’s mine’*

This ‘Kai’ wasn’t in any of Toby’s dreams about (Y/n) therefore he was an anomaly. ‘*What do we do with anomalies?*’ He practically heard Masky whispering in his ear, shoving his hatchet in his hands. But Toby’s hatchets were miles away, and it was broad daylight and Masky was states away (Thankfully. Toby hated the guy even if he was helpful) He would just have to settle for sulking as Kai grabbed (Y/n)’s hand and playfully led her away somewhere to ‘hang out’. Toby knew he should follow, but the timer on his phone went off. He had something else he needed to take care of.

⦻

Toby slammed his hatchet into the body, blood spattering his face. His victim screamed, but he quickly shut them up with another blow, using his foot to dislodge the weapon.

*‘Who does he think he is’*

He landed another blow, blood spattering over the fresh clothes he had so carefully washed the precious blood out of just to run into (Y/n).

‘*Touching her*’

He thought back to Kai’s stupid smile standing too close to her, touching her phone. His mind swirled with a flood of emotions he couldn’t quite name, but they burned like fire in his chest. Tobias Rogers couldn’t feel pain but *this*! *THIS HE COULD FUCKING FEEL*!

He hadn’t anticipated this. He had watched (Y/n) for weeks now, carefully planning every moment he'd interact with her. *She was his.* Every breath she took, every step she made, Toby had been there. *Watching. Protecting.* Not this idiot, not Kai.

Toby’s breath hitched. He didn’t want to hear her laugh at something *he* said. She shouldn’t be looking at anyone else like that. His stomach twisted, and in the deep part of his brain, the voices whispered *she wasn’t meant for Kai.*

*No.*

The thought was like a sharp blade cutting through his mind. She was his princess, not Kai’s, not anyone’s. Toby had already decided—she belonged to him. The dreams told him so. *Fate* told him so. And he’d saved her once already. He was her protector, her savior.

But now? This boy was trying to get between them.

Toby could feel himself twitching uncontrollably, his hatchet frozen in hand staring at his work. Their face was unrecognizable. Completely mutilated by Toby’s hands. (And hatchets)

He imagined Kai that way now.

*I could kill him. Go there. Find where he lives. Right here. Right now. Snap his neck and leave him in the dirt. It would be so easy...*

His breath quickened. The image of Kai’s body crumpled at (Y/n)’s feet danced in his head, and for a moment, a cold, twisted smile flickered across his lips. He could almost hear her crying out, could almost picture the fear in her eyes. And after...after she’d see him. She’d know what he did. She’d know how far he’d go for her.

*Would she hate me?*

That thought broke through the haze, piercing the dark fantasies brewing in his mind. No. He couldn’t scare her away. Not yet. Not until she understood—*they* were meant to be together. He had to be smart. Patient. She just didn’t know the truth yet.

But soon enough, she would.

He slammed the hatchet over and over. Pretending it was Kai he was chopping up, pretending that every splash of warm blood now drying to his skin was him reclaiming his angel's heart. Picturing her smiling face as she saved her from that *monster*. ‘*He just wants to use you*’ he’d say to her in their little spot.

***SLAM***.

‘*But I won’t! I love you just the way you are Princess!*’

***SLAM.***

‘*I know, Toby.*’ She kissed his cheek. ‘*Thank you for reminding me.*’ She giggled. ‘*And for rescuing me. What would I do without you?*’

***SLAM.***

He could practically see her, in her golden light, holding onto him. Her savior. Looking up with those big beautiful gorgeous (e/c) eyes. That was

**Pouring blood?**

*Huh?*

“Toby” You rasped to him. Your skin, no longer beautiful and (s/c) now rotting, your thin dangly arms reaching for his face, blood poured from your mouth. Your eyes are the black pits of hell. “Toby I’m rotting.” You croaked. “WHAT THE HELL?!” He kicked away but you gripped onto his ankle. “Why did you do this to me, Toby…” You practically sobbed. “Stop…no...DONT LEAVE ME HERE!” You screeched. Your bones cracked as you crawled towards him.

Toby backed up against a tree, shaking his head frantically and hyperventilating. You were contorting in horrific ways, the pretty dress you wore was nothing but rags. Toby buried his face in his sleeves and he felt you come closer. “TOBY!” He started to sob. Feeling you come even closer and crack as you move unnaturally. Suddenly he heard you stop, but he remained in the fetal position. Sobbing into his sleeves that were covered in blood. Praying it would end.

⦻

It must have been hours before Toby even moved. He had stopped crying long ago but that didn’t stop the fear. The sickening fear crawled up his throat. When it finally faded he looked around, realizing the episode was over. The dead, mangled body of one of his targets lay a could feet away. Already rotting as flies and bugs came to investigate. He saw his hatchets dropped by them. He shakily stood and grabbed them, hooking them onto his hips and looking down at the body. He sniffled and wiped his nose with his thumb.

He gave a slight hiccup from crying and began to drag the body off…

🌹: Hi Hi! Hope you enjoyed reading. Be sure to let me know what you think it really helps motivate me to write more.

Next chapter will be released: Friday October 4th!

Let me know how you feel about asking questions or doing asks I would love to know if that’s a thing you guys would like. I’m thinking it would be more of a ‘Ask Toby’ kinda thing where you guys non canonically (if that’s how you spell it) ask him questions as just something funny to do in between chapters or if you just want one shots or something that’s fine too <3

Also let me know if you guys would be into ‘previews’ like getting just a little peek at the next chapter, but if not and you wanna be surprised by everything let me know!

I hope you have a nice day darlings.

⚠️You might be wondering why I’m posting this two days early and that is because a bad bad hurricane is coming :( idk if I’ll have power so I wanted to make sure you guys got your chapter two! Thanks for all the love on the first one it means alot! So enjoy the early upload!

[jadeddangel]

Asks/Reguests: Open

Sup! You guys can call me Lulu! This is mostly an 18+ page, so I just ask that minors don't interact.

Gemini, gender-fluid, and I go by any pronouns

Pookie: @christianthefag69

Who I will write for:

Record of Ragnarok:

Thor

Loki

Shiva

Buddha

Poseiden

Hades

Zerofuku

Hunter x Hunter:

Hisoka

Meruem

Illumi

Silva

Chrollo

Shalnark

Uvogin

Machi

Shizuku

Fnaf:

Sundrop/Moondrop/Eclipse

Micheal Afton

Bonnie

Freddy Fazbear

Glamrock Freddy

Roxanne Wolf

Montgomery gator

Glamrock Chica

One piece:

Zoro

Sanji

Robin

Franky

Luffy

Ace

Crocodile

Buggy the Clown

Hazbin hotel & Helluva boss:

Octavia

Luna

Stolas

Asmodeus

Fizzoroli

Alastor

Adam

Lute

Angel dust

Lucifer

Husker

Zestial

Rosie

Carmilla

Glitz and Glam

Vox

Valentino

Velvette

Arcane:

Jinx

Vi

Silco

Ekko

HTTYD:

Hiccup

Astrid

Heather

Viggo

Dagger

Attack on Titan:

Eren

Levi

Mikasa

Jean

Connie

Onyankapon

Hange

Marco

Reiner

Jujitsu kaisen:

Gojo

Toji

Geto

Creepypasta and marble hornets:

Jeff the killer

Masky/tim

Hoodie/Brian

Ticcy Toby eren rogers

Slenderman

Eyeless jack

Avatar (the way of water and the first one)

Jakesully

Neteyam

Lo'ak

Tonowari

Neteri

Tsureya

The Owl House:

Amity Blight

Luz Noceda

Eda The Owl Lady

Raine Whispers

The collecter

Hunter

Other:

Sal fisher (Sally face)

Sokka (avatar the last airbender)

Zuko (avatar the last airbender)

Toph (avatar the last airbender)

Mono (little nightmares 2)

Six (little nightmares 2)

Erica slaughter (something is killing the children)

Mizu (blue eyed samurai)

Kinktober

Boundaries:

I will not write any of the following:

Ships of any kind unless there is a reader involved between the 2

Anything revolving around child porn or anything revolving around age play or an age play fetish

Scat is a big no no and piss play is very iffy

ANY MINORS I WRITE FOR WILL NEVER HAVE ANYTHING SMUTTY DO NOT SEND A REQUEST FOR A SMUT OR ANYTHING BEYOND KISSES (depends on the age of the character) FOR THOSE CHARACTERS

What I will write:

I will write the following:

Age regression( only for comfort and angst)

Yandere

Toxic relationships

Non-con, Dub-con

Trauma comfort

Or any questions you have about me!!

Don't see something you would like to read? Go ahead and go to my asks and I'll answer as soon as possible!!

[creepypasta65]

Is it alright is I can please request a Yandere Ticci Toby and Yandere X virus/Cody in love with the same (GN) S/O?

(if you like to spice things up a bit the S/O is not a creepypasta?)

Thanks for the request. Also, I love your pfp :)

Yandere Toby and Yandere Xvirus/Cody in love with the same s/o:

Toby:

Toby is furious that Cody is also in love with you. Toby wants to have you all to himself and not share.

He will confront Cody about his feelings towards you and tell him to stay away from you.

He doens't want to hurt Cody, but if he has to then, he will.

Cody:

Cody is mad that Toby is also in love with you.

He gets furious when Toby takes you away from him. He will tell Toby to stay away from you.

Cody sees Toby as an older brother and will not hurt Toby, but he's mad that Toby is stealing you away.

He will lock you away where Toby could never find you.

Have a nice day :)

[astupidweeb69]

Unrequited (Yandere! Ticci Toby x Reader) Part 8

Links to Previous Chapters: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Next Chapter: Part 9

Author’s Note: I know this chapter is a lot shorter than my previous one's but, I figured it was better than nothing. I might end up rewriting this to make it longer or something.

Cross-posted on my Ao3 account, which I update more frequently.

Warnings: Swearing. Some threats of violence. (1,276 words)

___________________________________________________________

“I love you, (Y/N).”

He said it so genuinely, like there was nothing wrong with the situation. Like he hadn’t taken you from your home, stalked you, tormented you, fucking bashed your head in with a baton. He said the words as if he was just a regular school boy confessing to his crush.

It made you sick to your stomach.

“Well? Are you guh-going to say something?”

He sounded impatient, as if you were the one in the wrong somehow. You looked up from the ground, his dark eyes and expression turning colder each second that passed.

“You’re insane.”

Wrong answer.

Toby’s face dropped, and with a heavy tension in the air, he raised his arm, his hand closing into a fist.

You prepared for the worst.

Then, Toby took a sharp breath, holding it for a moment, and exhaled. Slowly lowering his hand again. Trying to muster up the strength to not lash out, most likely.

“I’ll give you some time to warm up to me. I wuh-won’t hurt you.” He paused, thinking. “I’ll tuh-try not to.”

He didn’t sound very convincing.

You decided to hold your tongue for the time being. At least until you came up with a game plan to get out of this fucking place.

Toby sat down on the couch next to you, still pissed off. The sudden shift in weight causing you to look over at him. It was hard not to notice just how big he was. Tall and lanky, but at this distance it was obvious he did some kind of exercise. He’d be hard to take down on your own, and you’d need some kind of weapon that could immediately incapacitate him. He couldn’t feel pain. You knew that now.

“See suh-somethin’ you luh-like?”

Your thoughts were interrupted, noticing the wide grin stretched across Toby’s face as he looked you over. You had been staring.

Albeit, you were trying to figure out how to kick his ass, but you had been staring nonetheless.

Frowning, you decided it was best to stay silent, choosing to just shake your head ‘no’.

Toby sighed. The noise making you jump a little. “There’s nothing you can do now.” He put his arm around you, your body tensing as you were pulled into him. “And that’s okay.”

The ends of fingers started playing with your hair.

“It isn’t.”

Your voice came out quieter than you’d had hoped. But soon rose from desperation, sadness, anger or a combination of the three.

“It isn’t okay. I have a life, I have fucking friends who care about me, you can’t just tell me it’s okay. God! How could a person be so selfish?!”

“Because I can.” Toby hissed. “Fuh-for once I can be selfish. I finally found suh-something that I want. So I’m going to get it. Even if I have to drag you back here kicking and screaming over and over again.”

His words sunk in, like a rock falling into a bottomless pit.

“You’ll have to.”

Toby laughed cruelly at your response, not phased at all by your determination. He leaned forward in his seat, playing and picking with the skin on his hands. His nose scrunched in a smile, and he turned his head to you, putting a hand on your knee. “That’s fine. I duh-don’t mind a cat and muh-mouse chase every once in a while.”

____________________________________________________________

You felt numb. Your brain buzzing, probably the after effects from the head injury Toby gave you. All the energy you had was focused on the fireplace on the other side of the room. You could hear your captor behind you in the kitchen, rummaging through cupboards. After a couple of failed attempts to get you to speak, he resorted to pacing the cabin, occasionally glaring at you. Muttering phrases and curses under his breath. He finally stopped when your stomach started growling, quickly making his way to the fridge to find you something to eat. Of course, you didn’t ask him to. You decided you weren’t going to ask him for anything.

But there was one thing that had started to bug you, well, other than the whole kidnapping thing.

Scanning the room more intently, you noticed two hatchets that hung by the front door. One with a bright orange handle, and the other dull and wooden. They looked well used, and if it wasn’t your paranoia just seeing things, there were definitely specks of red on the handles and on the holster they hanged from.

It made you wonder what Toby did in his free time.

Sure, you had asked him before if he was going to kill you. And he had alluded to murdering people in his fits of rage. And although you never saw any evidence of it, bloody fucking axes on the wall seemed like pretty solid proof.

You moved closer to get a better look at them.

“Hey. Yuh-your food.”

A bowl of cold soup was shoved in front of your face.

Toby stood next to you frowning, trying to figure out what you were looking so intensely at.

“W-what are you doing?”

“I was - um….. Nothing?” You stammer back.

He placed the bowl into your hand and walked over to the wall, lifting the leather holster off the hooks. The blades of the hatchets swung as he carried them over, before sitting down on a musty chair across from you.

“You like em’?” Toby asked, a hint of tease in his voice, like he was trying to be playful.

“Not really” You shot back.

“Aw, yuh-you’re hurting my feelings.”

Toby took the orange one out of the holster, tossing it back and forth in his hands with ease. He looked up at you for a moment and smirked, before l lifting the handle behind his head, and throwing it forward. It missed your head by a few inches, but you still ducked instinctively. The blade connected on the other side of the wall with a loud ‘THUNK’, the force knocking some empty bottles off the window sill and shattering on the floor.

“What the fuck!”

He cackled at your reaction, throwing his head back in the chair. After a few moments he collected himself.

“Duh-don’t worry, I have good aim.”

You stared at him dumbfounded. "Why do you have those?”

He glanced over at the hatchet embedded in the wall and then back to you. “Firewood.” Was his curt response.

You didn’t believe him.

A small buzzing sound came from Toby’s pocket, startling you both for a moment. He furrowed his brows, before taking out his phone, and glanced down at the screen. He grimaced, reading through something.

“F-fuck.”

If you were wanting an explanation, you weren’t going to get one. Because he got up from his chair and angrily stormed through his home, saying nothing, and grabbing items to get ready for something. He stopped in front of you with a small plastic bag.

Zip ties.

Of course he would tie you up.

“Get up.”

You rose to your feet hesitantly, not liking his tone at all. Something in those texts must have set him off. His hand quickly grabbed your wrist, practically dragging you back to his bedroom where you had first woken up in this hell hole. He threw you onto the bed, and placed your wrist against a metal pole on his bed frame, securing the zip tie to your hands so you couldn’t move. Toby grinned once he was done.

“There. Suh-so you don’t get any ideas while I’m guh-gone.”

Before he left the house, you heard him call out.

“I’ll be back soon!”

[are-you-still-writing-that]

Masterpost!

Call me L or Kaz /My Account on AO3 / Asks: Open (for everything!) / Support me on Kofi!

I do not consent to my writing being reposted!

Important Tags:

Author Notes: I ramble about one thing or the other

L answers: Answered Asks, that provide the links to the requested post

Masterlist: All my masterposts are tagged with this!

365 Days

Part One / AO3

Reading List

2022

Whump 2020: Masterpost (incomplete)

Whump - The Musical: Masterpost (in work)

Boku no Hero Academia

Yandere Alphabet: Midoriya Izuku

Boyfriend to Death

Yandere Alphabet: Ren Hana

Creepypasta

Yandere Alphabet: Tobias "Ticci Toby" Rogers

Gangsta.

Yandere Alphabet: Nicolas Brown

Hunter x Hunter

Yandere Alphabet: Chrollo Lucilfer, Illumi Zoldyck, Killua Zoldyck

Killua Relationship Headcanons

Killua: Throughout the Years

Kitmetsu no Yaiba

Yandere!Kanae x Demon!Reader

Naruto

Yandere Alphabet: Haruno Sakura, Uchiha Itachi, Uchiha Sasuke, Uzumaki Naruto

Tokyo Revengers

Yandere Alphabet: Baji Keisuke, Haitani Ran, Haitani Rindou, Hanemiya Kazutora, Kakucho, Kisaki Tetta, Kurokawa Izana, Matsuno Chifuyu, Mitsuya Takashi, Ryuguji Ken "Draken", Sano "Mikey" Manjiro, Sanzu Haruchiyo, Shiba Taiju

Yandere Tokyo Revenger Headcanons (feat: Takemitchy, Hakkai, Naoto, Koko, Hinata, Angry, Yuzuha, Smiley, Hanma, Emma, Senju + everyone who has their own alphabet!)

What kind of Yandere are Bonten? (Figuring out the Types of Yandere Traits in Tokyo Revengers)

Yandere! Mizo Middle Headcanons

Mikey Scenario: Jealous over affectionate S/O

Yandere!Mikey with a short S/O

Yandere!Shion Madarame Headcanons

Various

Yandere Alphabet: John Doe

[bloodblanks]

pumpkin head [ticci toby x reader] — prologue.

Life wasn’t always easy. But when it got hard, Y/N had a solution: take a hollow plastic pumpkin and put it over her head. No, seriously. It helped. It’s a valid coping mechanism, goddammit. But then Toby Rogers, a homeschooled outcast who might be even more of a freak than she is develops a morbid interest—or what normal people call a crush—on her. And she’s also getting stalked by a mysterious entity called the Operator. All of a sudden, Y/N’s plastic pumpkin isn’t enough to shield her away from the world and keep her safe anymore. No, she wasn’t going to take it off, but somehow, Toby was still interested in her even with it on.

co-written with @spookyravioli, please check her out! ♡

author's note: this fanfiction will contain mildly dark content, including abuse, alcoholism, mental health issues, unhealthy relationship dynamics, and similar themes.

please read at your own discretion.

“If I can’t have you, no one can.”

Time seemed to stop. At first, it was in slow motion, the way his fingers, caked in coagulating crimson, took hold of the box of matches, the way he slid the case open, the way he reached inside, taking out a singular matchstick, the once pale and thin wood now also tainted red. It was still in slow motion, time appearing to stretch out endlessly as he brought the match to the rough brick-coloured sides of the box, swiping it across and striking a newborn flame, birthed from the friction.

But then he raised his hand out, fingers loosening their grip on the frail matchstick, and it was right then and there that time came to a startling halt.

The scene before her played out like a video that had just been put on pause. And she, too, was paralyzed, staring in horror at the sight before her, unable to move a muscle. In this frozen space of time, it was just the two of them—her, standing still, eyes wide in terror, and him, eyes downcast, the slightest hint of tears still visible, running along his waterline.

The match fell.

Dropped from his fingers and hitting the floor, the room was set ablaze in a matter of seconds, fire bursting from the kerosene that he had drenched the room with, fire licking at the carpet, eating up the furniture, devouring the walls.

Everything was suddenly illuminated with an amber glow, the colour of the flames reflecting perfectly in his eyes as he finally raised them, staring straight into her.

It was like they had just met all over again, the sweet amber hue of his irises captivating her own; she found fatal attraction in them like a moth would a flame. And burn she did indeed, as all the sweetness left his eyes, the hue replaced by the fire that burst out before her, the fire that sent her body harshly colliding against the hard tiled floor, fully engulfing her unprotected form like vines entangling themselves around her limbs, dragging her down into a world of blazing, scorching pain.

She didn’t even have time to scream; instead, violent coughs erupted from her throat as she curled up into herself, back hunched over and knees brought up to her chest, miserably trying to prop herself up on her elbows.

The air was stolen from her lungs, replaced with the thick, heavy coat of smoke that was slowly descending upon her, clogging up her airway and causing her eyes to sting in irritation. Her esophagus felt as if acid had been poured down her vocal cords, searing and burning through her flesh.

She made another effort to try to get up, weakly pushing herself up on all fours. Still, she barely crawled a few steps away before the agony of the flames devouring her skin and the pulsating pain of the smoke sending sharp icepicks inside her brain became all too much to bear for her, and she’d collapse back down.

She came to the conclusion, then, that this was it. This was the end for her.

She was going to die.

She was going to die, in the kitchen of the boy she thought she loved, the boy she thought she could trust, the boy she thought truly understood her in a world where she had been isolated for so long, up until the very second they met.

And then he had become the boy who she had become mesmerized with the very moment their eyes met, the boy who she had opened up to and seen as her very first friend, the boy who she allowed herself to be vulnerable with, trusting him with both her body and heart, believing that he wouldn’t break it.

Because if there was one person in the world that she could rely on to be there for her even if no one else was, it would be him.

But now here she was, alone, with no one by her side, not even him. Here she was, alone.

Dying.

She had given him all of herself, entrusted everything to be in his hands. Entrusted herself to be in his hands. And he had held it, treating it with care, treating it as something so delicate, so fragile—only to allow it to shatter.

As he loosened his hold on the tiny little matchstick, as his fingers splayed out, letting it fall to the ground, he had let her go as well.

Now there she was, on the ground, every inch of her ignited with sheer torment, surrounded by the flames of what she would think to be Hell if she didn’t know better, if she wasn’t so painfully alive still.

If she wasn’t so painfully alive, the events replaying over and over in her mind like a broken cassette tape. The thought of his betrayal, hot and fresh and deep, wounding her where it had hurt most on repeat. The sound of his voice, hurt and betrayed and resentful, his last words to her playing on a loop. The vision of his amber eyes, puffy and bloodshot and still harbouring the slightest hint of tears, narrowed at her in an ever-present glare, etched in her mind.

It was all that she could think of, hear, and see.

She wondered then, how did things come to this? What could she have done differently to prevent this from happening? What had she done wrong for this to happen? Where did she make a mistake?

Not that it mattered anymore, because dark spots were clouding her vision, and she could both feel and see the smoke thickening, smothering her and causing her eyelids to feel heavier with each passing second.

As her eyelids fluttered like the desperate wings of a moth trying to fan out its own flames, she could feel her body’s desperate plea for her to just close her eyes, allow the fire to consume her, consume her just like he had, with the tender touch of his fingertips and the passionate movement of his lips.

He had taken everything from her, the fire finishing up the one last thing—her life.

As her fatigued eyes opened for the final time, through the spots in her vision, the haziness of her tears, and the dancing of the flames, was the silhouette of the tall man.

The horror of the realization dawned upon her, and at that moment, she too was burning, seething in pure blazing rage.

But what hurt the most, feeling like a spear of torment piercing straight through her heart, was that before her eyelids fell to a close, finally submerging her in the reprieve of unconsciousness—

She met his eyes one last time.

His bittersweet, amber eyes.

next chapter ->