#Yandere creepypasta Imagines

[chocolatte-and-despair]

hello my friend, can i get an article for creepypasta yandere tim and masky? How do you think the wedding night with the reader would go? The reader is very shy about this and can't even look at Masky 's face . and write a little longer if possible and don't write too much obscene stuff please

Sorry for my bad english

and if you write it tag me too pls ok?

(In my headcanons, Tim and Masky share one body. Masky is an entity by the creation of the operator, which had been implanted in Tim's body and wakes up from his dormant state only when his duty calls. Neither of them are aware of what happens when the other is in control of the body.)

Masky - Tim Wright

To say the least, the way you two met was unconventional. Better said, you were a victim of Tim's that he ended up keeping when he felt conflicted about going through with his mission would really be right.

He had never felt conflicted before, not after he found out that Masky existed, so he needed to find out what made you so different in his mind.

He kept you far away from everyone else, in a cabin where only Tim knew the location. He wasn't the kindest but he never went out of his way to hurt you either.

Masky was not that different either. Quiet and always staring at you, as if even the way you breathed intrigued the being in a way nothing else had.

No matter how much you would beg to be let go, or say that you wouldn't report him/them, neither masky nor Tim would listen to your pleas.

Masky wouldn't even dignify you a reply. Not that he ever really did, considering he has never spoken to you before. You were completely sure he actually hadn't ever spoken to you. At best, you could hear him grunt if he's frustrated. He doesn't even move all that much while you're looking at him.

Tim on the other hand was much more talkative but he was quick to anger and feel frustration. Being off his meds for so long was doing a lot of bad for Tim but he was a fugitive now and couldn't go anywhere without having police called on him.

You were always in a state of fear and confusion, just trying to stay out of the way of them, even whenever Tim tried to be kinder to you or Masky would bring you a gift, watching you for your reaction. You knew everything was stolen anyway, so it felt bad having those things.

You could imagine your surprise when some men you didn't know came to the cabin, congratulating a gruff Tim and even chatting with you. You weren't sure what was going on, but you weren't going to try and run off, considering the men looked of the same ilk as Tim.

Next thing you knew, you had a ring on your finger and Tim was kissing you, and those men where clapping and congratulating you two for getting married. What was going on? You were more than confused and scared, completely frozen in place.

Of course, that wasn't exactly something new so Tim ignored it all, considering it your nature by this point.

Tim threw all the men out soon enough, probably having gotten frustrated by all the teasing. His easily frustrated mental state couldn't handle it, and he didn't want to ruin such a wonderful day for himself with their unwanted jibs.

Tim wasn't sure what made you so special but no matter what he did, he couldn't get rid of you. He wanted to be closer to you, until you two became one.

Tim assumed Masky felt the same, considering the notes he would leave were always messy and had your name messily written all over the pages as if it was the only thing he could think about.

He wasn't sure what would happen next, but he was sure now that you two were married (not really), he would be able to slowly hack away at you very closed off heart.

The two of you have all of your lives after all and you're not going anyways either way.

Taglist: @simligul

[eyeless-cunt]

KINKTOBER DAY 14

PROMPT: Somnophilia

CREEP: Toby

Word Count: 1.6k

CW: 18+ Sexual Content, Non-con, Stalking/Yandere, Creep Ass Toby Alert.

KINKTOBER '24 MASTERLIST

The man stood mostly hidden behind the tree line, watching silently, his eyes focused on the dark house in the clearing. He waited patiently as every light slowly switched off, window by window.

The moon rose higher, but still the man stayed hidden. He knew she had gotten into the habit of staying up late these nights, working on a personal project or watching a new show. He spent far too much of his time watching her cluelessly live her life. A look up to the sky told him she was most likely asleep by now. Cautiously, he watched the windows before stepping out, walking slowly as he trekked through her snowy yard. With his back flush against the siding of her house he made his way to his new entrance. The bathroom window had a broken latch, appearing locked but never actually. If she took the time to properly check it after “locking” it at night she would likely realize that. Unless she knew and pretended not to?

That idea had him huffing, aware that his fantasies were a bit more than just delusional. It was a nice dream, but the woman inside wasn't aware of his existence. Not yet. He slipped inside, eyeing her bathroom hamper but deciding against it. There was no time for dawdling in her bathroom tonight. His boots left behind snow chunks and water prints, but he barely noticed. She would notice in the morning if they didn't dry, and maybe then she'd realize her window was compromised. Maybe she'd realize she had something to be scared of.

His obsession-fueled search ended just down the hall. Sprawled out under her covers laid his beautiful victim, eyes closed as he watched her chest rise and fall steadily. He was so enamored with her beauty, completely caught off guard with seeing her this close.

He weighed the risks in his head, wondering just how worth it being able to touch her bare skin would be. His mind was unable to rationalize, eyes only focused on her sleeping face. Her mouth parted, hands placed deliciously above her head, hair sprawled out ready to be touched. God, he could barely contain himself now that he was here. Now that he had the opportunity to feel her smooth skin on his fingertips. He had to fight not to carelessly reach out and touch her, scared that she would wake up before he accomplished what he came for.

Carefully–so god-damned carefully–he inched forward, moving past her and directly to her hamper in the corner of her room. He figured he'd get the easy stuff out of the way first. He sifted through her dirty clothes, the smell intoxicating him down to his very being. It was at this point that all rationale left his body as if it never existed there in the first place. He didn't care what he grabbed, whether it was important or not didn't matter. He couldn't possibly care–not now. Not when the smell of her most intimate parts finally graced his nose. Was this sick, he wondered? Would an onlooker watch his actions and be disgusted? Confused and frightened as they watched him lift a pair of her underwear slowly to his face in the dark of her room?

Yes, he thinks. They would be frightened and disgusted. Confused and worried for the vulnerable woman that slept soundly just a few feet from him. But he still just couldn't bother to care. There was nothing on this earth that mattered more to him right now than getting fistfulls of her laundry into his bag to take home for later. Absolutely nothing. He would think and care and possibly regret later, but for now there was no time.

By this point his bag is stuffed full of clothes she'll surely notice are gone in the morning. She'll wonder why this hamper is suddenly half full, and she'll look through her drawers after laundry day and realize her underwear drawer is one step short of barren. Will she finally realize? Will she know then, that she's being stalked? Watched and robbed? Lusted after by a man in the woods? He stands, finally, only to meet his own appearance in the mirror. The only thing he can make out in this dark is his figure. To see his tall visage standing over your bed at night would frighten anyone. Would she be frightened? Or would she be too busy moaning? If he woke her up himself with his mouth getting to work on her, would she mind? How many times would he have to make her cum for her to be okay with his crime?

The thought paralyzed him, the only thing that could move was his cock in his jeans. Hard and straining at this point. He sighed, understanding that he was far too gone now. Nothing on this earth could save him or the woman from their fate, whatever it may be.

He had one last thing to do. Going through all of her drawers. Honestly, they were quite disappointing. Clean clothes that smelt mostly of detergent rather than her. Basically worthless.

Finally, he approached her. He wasn't satisfied with touching her belongings and smelling the second hand scent. He thought it would satiate him for longer. But this obsession was a steep slope. Unaware of that, he jumped–only to fall straight down. And here he was. Fallen onto another slope, too far down to make his way back up and too apprehensive to climb down further into the dark.

She snored every now and again, a low sound that made him smile. The way her torso moved up and down with every breath made him wish he was in bed next to her, head on her chest so he could hear every push and sway of her body. So he could feel the way a warm soft body like hers felt against him. Gently, he reached his hand out towards her, finally–fucking finally–touching her soft skin. Right then and there he was intoxicated. High off of her body and the way it felt. He had never felt so light in his life.

Trembling now, he slowly dragged his finger down her face and to her lips. He felt them, groaning over how soft and plush they were. He pushed a finger into her ever slightly open mouth, immediately having to put a hand over his own to hide his sounds. God, was this heaven? Her tongue sat still, heavy with sleep. He dragged his finger over it, swiping as much saliva as he could, only to take his finger and pop it in his mouth next. His eyes practically rolled into the back of his head as he tasted her, sucking it off fervently. He had never had anything taste so damn good in his life.

Now he was a man chasing a high only she could give him. With a low groan he sighed, wondering if he was unrepairable. Would there ever be any coming back from this?

His hand slid over her, cupping her cheek and then working its way down to her breasts. She wore just an oversized tee, one that was obviously well loved. This excited him too much for his own good, hungrily staring down at the peak her nipples made in the thin cotton. Just a simple touch had him shaking. Mouth salivating, he lightly pinched her nipple, watching in awe as her face scrunched up and her thighs got closer together.

He gave in immediately, hands now both moving to touch and squeeze at her breasts as if there wasn't a possibility she could wake up. He was so high with lust that he didn't even think twice as he trailed one hand down to her pussy. He dragged a finger down her clothed folds, groaning as he felt the wetness that laid there already. Was this for him?

He could barely contain himself now, licking his finger and moving to push aside her panties, the sight almost bringing him to his knees. "I'm a fucking creep." He knew it. But whispering out loud to himself did nothing but make him throb even more. He trailed his finger through her folds, finding the nub he was looking for and easing himself into teasing the area around it. Her sounds could make him cum alone, he was sure of it. How would she sound while she was awake? Even better than the tired grunts and soft airy moans she let out? He needed a taste. Just one. God he was aching. He leaned down, just a simple lick from hole to clit.

Heaven. Pure fucking heaven. This whole night had been one step after another, each the best thing he had ever experienced. But this was pure ecstasy. The taste of her on his tongue was sure to make him claim her sooner than he had ever previously intended. Her shifting unfortunately ended the fun. While it was obvious her sleeping body enjoyed it, she may have enjoyed it too much–only a minute away from waking up and catching him in his lewd act. He was upset he didn't even get to touch himself over her sleeping body, but there would be other nights, right?

He grabbed his bag full of stolen material and hurried out, the image of her bare before him burned permanently in his brain. Just like that he was gone and running to the tree line, already ready to watch her as she awoke due to his prodding. He wanted to see her reaction to her swollen clit and tender body. Would she touch herself, now that she had woken up hot and bothered? Or did she have more self control than that? God he hoped she didn't. Maybe if he caught her he'd be able to get some of it recorded.

All he saw from behind a tree at his angle, however, was her waking up for only a few mere seconds. As soon as her eyes seemed to flutter open they closed only seconds later. Unfortunate. Next time, maybe.

[festering-obsession]

How You Fell Into Their Trap

TW/CW: Self- Destructive Behavior, Hollywood-ized Disorders, Yandere/Dark Behavior, Violence, Dubious Consent, Drugging, Slight Divergence from Source, Canon-Typical Violence

A/N: Pacing could be weird in both stories. In both, the reader is pondering the past before it jumps to the present to help with any confusion before reading!!

Slenderman:

You want to tear your eyes out, pull at your skin, and scream until nothing left can be heard. It would be better than the constant paranoia eating at you. The splitting headaches and the dazed look on your face as you slowly forget what day it is.

No medicine, no drug can even make you lose an ounce of these random episodes. What's worse, it that they seem to drag on longer and occur more. You wipe the bile off the corner of your mouth as you lean next to the wall in front of the toilet.

The doctors even are puzzled. They best the can sum it up to is you’re faking it. Your body is faking it. Then why can't you stop any of it? In fact, you beg your body to stop.

You can't ignore the fact that you were a sickly child. Constantly falling under nearly the same symptoms but after your parents moved, it stopped. Occasional bouts here and there, but maybe the cleaner air farther from the city helped. Your parents agreed that you eventually just grew out of your sickness, hoping to move on and forget.

But you could never forget the same figure that haunted you since a child. The same tall, white figure, faceless, in a suit. He was everywhere. As soon as you looked, he was there for a split second. And you could feel his hostile aura waiting to strike and kill you. Even as an adult, that face haunted you.

You tried to pin point what triggered your episodes. Maybe after you went to the forrest with your friend, maybe a weird bug bit you? Or you contracted an infection somehow? The forest was beautiful. Tall trees, lush grasses, variety of flaura, and the mountains raised in the backdrop. All was suppose to go well, but going there was the worst mistake of your life. The previous delusions you seemed to have increased tenfolds and it seemed you threw you friend in the same fate as you.

The two of you wandered the forest after the wind rushed and seemed to grip the map from his hands. And even better? Not a lick of signal. When night time hit, you entered a real life nightmare. The figure that haunted you as a child came back. And scarier than ever. But this time, he also saw it.

Your friend gripped your hand as the two of you narrowly escaped the almost glitching creature. Appearing behind, then in front, and then in a damn tree. When you lost track of the figure, your friend was also losing track of himself. He heaved as he gripped at his hair before pulling at it. Above your own urge to do the same, you tried to grab his hands and stop him. Your friend looked at you as he began to claw at his eyes.

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME." He roared as blood began to seep down him. "He told me, he told me that if I touch you, my death will be put in his hands." He sobbed out scooting away from you.

"He? Who's he?" You cried out, confused as you saw your friend trying to hurt himself.

"Him. The man. The one in the shadows. He told me that if I even look at you anymore, he'll rip my eyes out himself." He banged his head on the ground, still clawing at his eyes. "But he granted me the mercy to at least do it myself." Your friend reached for a jagged rock and brought it to his face.

Your head was filled with static to the point you passed out, and awake in your living room. You wanted it to be a dream, but it was farther from the truth. Your coworker and close friend, hung himself in the same place you two hiked at two days prior.

It was your fault, and you couldn't bring yourself to let it happen again as you hauled yourself in your apartment. Refusing contact with anyone. You were just meant to be a disease.

The apartment went on fire, and you never felt more estatic. Finally, you would greet death with open arms, and your family wouldn't live with the regret if you took your own life. Shit, maybe they could even sue to gain some money off your death. Maybe you'd actually bring fortune to someone.

You laid pliant on your bed, smoke filtering inside your room as the fire danced and spread around the room. A smile on your face before you felt its presence again.

The tall figure hovering over you this time, but no sickness accompanied with it. Faceless, except spots that were slightly sunken in that could be mistaken for one, put a finger up to his face presumably to its mouth. He then disappeared and you fell into unconsciousness with it as well.

And appeared back in the same fucking forrest. This time, surrounded by three human(ish) men.

A crazed man with goggles and a mask, wielding a bloodied axe. Next to him, was a seemingly timid one, dressed in an orange hoodie and when you tried to focus closer, all that greeted you was red, sullen eyes. A feminine mask graced the other one as he donned an orange bomber jacket.

Your mouth felt dry and when you tried to scream, it came out a pathetic groan for help. They clearly had no interest in doing so, more concerned on talking to one another in poorly hushed voices.

"You handled them too rough! If they get a bruise, he won't like it." One choked out in a worried tone.

"They're not a doll, they're fine. And besides, it's not like he told us to deliver them to him in 5-star hotel. He wanted them to be brought to the forest and we did. I'm sure he wouldn't be fond if we held on them too long, so to the floor they go." The one behind the mask spoke, steady voiced.

And another air of static rose around you, stiffening your surroundings. You fell in and out of consciousness and could barely even tell if time was moving, or not.

The men had left sometime ago, 3 hours or minutes? You didn't know. All you could feel was the mossy earth and crushed leaves beneath your slightly aching body.

Vision blurred as the man in the black and white dotted across behind your eye lids in mind as you slipped unconscious into a fever like dream. But this time, it didn't make you sick. It was replaced by a sense of, longing? What was once your nightmare incarnated, seemed softer (even for lack of facial features).

You felt as if watching yourself in third person, your figure collapsed on the floor of a velvety chapel, a heavy white [dress/tuxedo] weighing you down to the ground as you could hear a low melody playing in the background, a church hymn low in the distance as the pianist follows suit.

Pushing yourself up with your two arms, your mind follows the red path trailing to the center. You hear murmuring in the distance but as you scanned your surroundings, no one was there. Just the tall white figure dressed in the clean tuxedo.

You felt yourself gliding towards him, despite not even getting up on your feet. But when you looked down, you saw the inky black tendrils span out like tiny veins combining to makin thick ropey tentacles. They slowly brought you towards him as your hands slowly held onto the decaying flower bouquet.

You opened your mouth only to find no words were coming out. You gripped at your lips, trying to force something out to protest against whatever this was but the sweet piano was only heard echoing throughout.

Finally, you were brought to the empty pillar, but the entity's limbs never left your body. Instead, it seemed to latch onto your harder, as it expanded over your body. You gazed over the empty chapel, but the long and slender hands of the monster in front of you made you look at him.

Blank, faceless, pale, but you could feel the tension in the air as he stared at you in his own way. His stark white body contrasting deeply with his black tuxedo. You felt tears rush down your face but the monster seemed to enjoy that sight. As your face came close to his, the static in your head grew. The only word you could make out amiss all the noise was mine.

As your lips finally made contact with the blank slate of a man, you woke up in a large bed. As you glanced around, you found dust on the bed, but everything else looking surprisingly in pristine condition.

Just as you were about to scream, a large hand grasped your shoulder. The entity, that monster. But, instead of the normal vomit inducing headache and static you would feel when you confronted him was gone.

Yet, that [dress/tuxedo] from the dream still remained. As you looked down at your outfit in confusion, the monster slipped his hands under your chin to meet his gaze. The static-like voice replaced with a deep soothing, voice finally talked as his other hand made it up your back.

"Now that your officially mine, I can't find myself being able to hold back much longer."

Jeff The Killer:

Jeffery always seemed on the brink of becoming unhinged. Ever since building up to the, incident. His family moved to the neighborhood, normal enough. His parents, his brother, all seemed well. Even at first meetings Jeffery looked sane enough at first glance. Nothing stood about him. Like every other teenage boy. His light brown hair framed his face in the typical unkempt way with his blue eyes shining against his complexion. His clothes were obviously picked out by his mother since he never cared to actually shop for his wardrobe.

He was not your first choice to be friends with. But as your parents grew cozy with his, they near forced you to befriend the quiet boy.

It was awkward. Standing next to him at the bus stop with small talk eventually landed to you two sitting on the bus together. It grew to where he would spare you an earbud to play music on his music player. Then, it turned to you actually seeking him out during class projects, not because you had no one else to, but you began to somewhat enjoy his company.

You began to come to his house, and him to your house without the prompting of your parents. Maybe you were just as strange as him which explained the quicker connection between the two of you. It ranged from drawing, reading horror stories to eachother on the ever growing "internet", running to the near gas station for a snack stop only to get brain freezes from racing eachother who could drink their slushie faster.

His interests slowly grew darker. Darker videos, interests in the occult and local murders and death, and even visiting previous crime scenes. You didn't notice at first, you enjoyed the more taboo subjects, but he seemed to take it on a different level. But like you, he was just a young adult trying to figure out the big world, right...?

As his interests grew more morbid, a group of boys began to pick on him. His brother did what he could do to halt them as you tried to center Jeffery's attention elsewhere, but you knew it was beginning to wear him down.

He fought them. Not only did he fight one by himself, but three. He was scuffed up, but the other boys more so. You felt in a daze. Although it was self defense, he would be put in the blame. He came to your house soon after, but he wasn't in a panic. He was happy. Estatic. You fussed over his bruises and small cuts as you dabbed on first aid supplies. He couldn't stop talking for the death of him. You ignored most of it as he tended to talk lots of nonsense most the time, but a sentence stood out you couldn't ignore.

"I never felt more alive."

He looked at you. His blue eyes shining threw his choppy, layered hair. He gently held your wrist in the middle of applying an antibiotic cream.

"S/o, I want you to know, if anything happens, you're coming with me. I promise that." His once happy persona faded as he stared at you solemnly. You nodded slowly and continued patching him up.

When the police came, his brother Liu took his spot and told them it was him. You've never seen Jeffery so desperate to admit his own crimes but the police left, leaving the younger brother. It changed something in him. He only trusted Liu and you. But with him gone, he was clingy and.. handsy. Always trying to have you physically touching him in some way. Either him pressed up against your side or his hand wrapped around yours. His twisted mind finally grasping the concept of how easily people can be taken from him.

To no one's surprise, he did get in trouble more at school. His parents blaming him for getting into so much trouble in his senior year. To your surprise, not too long after that fight, his parents forced him to go to a party with them as a way to "clean" up their image. Like the loyal friend you were, you went with him.

It all happened too fast. His bullies were back as ready for vengeance all the same as if they didn't cause enough damage. One grabbed at you taunting him, "No big brother now, and no [girlfriend/boyfriend] to help you either!" One cackled as they drew a knife near your throat. He never had lost his composure so fast as he saw you. In his mind, you were his and that disgusting shit touched you.

Pure chaos erupted as two boys dropped dead. Blood on both men. Police were called but none came fast enough. Tears went down your face as you tried to grab one of them to stop but your parents held you back in horror watching them fight. Eventually Jeffery got the advantage and took time to prepare his next move in state of manic happiness. He didn't mind the bleach dripping down his frame. He had murder on his mind.

"Remember my promise. I will come to get you soon!" He looked back at you before he grabbed onto the knife and lodged it into the attackers chest. You felt dizzy with the scene in front of you, finally hearing sirens from the cops.

The final movement from the attacker lifted up a match and sent Jeffery on fucking fire. A blood curling scream from the crowd erupted before you felt sick to your stomach and passed out.

He was sent to the hospital, and as much as you were trying to visit him, only family was allowed. Countless nights you worried over the health of a boy you didn't even want to be friends with in the beginning. Too weak to talk to him one on one. All information you got on his wellbeing was from his parents who were already stressed enough.

When he was finally released from hospital and was being sent home, your parents allowed you to visit him the following morning.

As the sun rose and birds chirped, you sprinted to his house with the latest music DVDs and horror movies that he missed out on. You knocked on the door as you barely contained your glee for seeing him.

The door opened. It was unlocked. And the smell of metal wafted to your nostrils. You peaked your head and opened the already ajar door.

And you screamed as blood was splattered in every corner.

But, that was years ago. No longer the dumb teenager you were, but yet it was still stained on your mind. The countless headliners for the news, the police interviews, the therapy sessions. You moved far away from that neighborhood but no matter where you go, the memories would still follow.

Although a murderer now, still on the loose which scared you to your core, you yearned for the nostalgic Jeffery. The one before the murders.

You placed the book of photos down, gingerly touching the photo where you and Jeffery clicked slushies together. It was over now though, that was the past.

That night as you laid to rest, you felt the cold breeze of the nightly wind under your sheets.

You also felt cold wet drops on your face as a hand slapped against your mouth before you could fully register what was happening.

A manic grin spread from ear to ear, scared red against deathly pale skin. Eyes a dull blue with dark eyebags. The hair was jet black and frayed in a shaggy like mullet.

His other hand held your arms in one grip as he started laughing.

"Oh, s/o, I finally found you." He cried out in-between bursts of laughter.

"But where the fuck were you when I needed you. Where were you when I told you I'd come to get you."

And your heart dropped as you mumbled through his fingers. "Jeffery, is that you...?"

"The one and only and STOP AVOIDING THE QUESTION. WHERE WERE YOU?" He begged out, his happiness dropped. "It was suppose to be just me and you. Just us against the world. I needed you to wait for me. But when I finally got my own footing, you left!"

"I fucking missed you. But now, " He shifted eagerly as he straddled your hips. "I'm myself. This is what I was meant to be, and can you even accept that?"

You look at him in shock, your whole body feels like it was dropped in freezing water. Your heart was in the dilemma of whether it's about to stop or keep beating as wildly as possible.

"I don't expect you to respond now. But you will answer me later, you whore." He leaned down and took his hand off your mouth. "I hate that I still like you even after you abondoned me."

His lips hovered over yours teasingly. "I fucking hate the fact you're still as beautiful as the day you left me. But now, you're staying with me." Despite his taunting demeanor, there is an act of urgency, desperation, in his next moves.

His lips connected to yours within seconds as you tried to squirm away. His hands still holding yours away from pushing him. His hand gripped your cheek as he pushed the back of your head to deepen the kiss.

And then you felt a foreign pill slip into your mouth as Jeff still kept the kiss connected, forcing you to swallow.

"Go to sleep." He breathes out, finally pulling away from your lips. You are hit with an unfamiliar urge to go unconscious. Your limbs feel unbearably heavy as your eyelids begin to close again. The last thing you see before your eyes shut is his insanely stretched out smile and his lovesick eyes glaring at you.

….

[Heyyy I’m alive guys. Work and school kicked my ass but I’m still here. Also, part two down here lol.]

[6eeznut]

QUESTION OF THE DAY.

: whos slasher that has the biggest, the longest, and the thickest ding dong in your opinion? and can you take them full in one try? 😳

[scary-lasagna]

hello! happy valentines day! can i request yan proxies or maybe ej on valentines day? would they do anything special? <33

All besides Toby, they wouldn't let their s/o know.

It wouldn't be fair for Tim and Brian to have only one special day out of the year to pour their love into their s/o when it should be every day of their lives. And for Jack...he just doesn't care much for human holidays.

Yan!Toby

"Ohhh my loovvee!~"

Although muffled, you could still barely make out the words approaching you.

The room spun, and your stomach felt like it was eating itself and daring to lurch from your throat simultaneously.

Your skull pounded, and there was no way you could even attempt to lift a finger with how weak you felt.

"Aw, I'm sorry you're not feeling good, my sweet." Toby cooed. "I know sometimes rules can be unfair, but I thought I could give some leniency since today's a super special day for us!"

He gently turned your head, placing a straw past your lips.

"You can have all the water you want today! Just not too much, or you might get sick."

You clung to that straw like a lifeline, after so many days of dehydration, you weren't sure if you'd make it through today before this.

"It's Valentines day, so I managed to snag you some chocolate too."

You haven't had chocolate since you've been chained down here, and god knows how long that's been. You're long past making scratch marks along the carpet molding of the empty room.

You're long past hope, but maybe if some more holidays come around, you'll gather up the strength to stand again.

[ashieeeesh]

The hooded man (i can take him)

I have toby and tim version btw

[willowswiththorns]

I see Marble Hornets and humbly ask for Masky, yandere or the nsfw alphabet whichever one you feel more comfortable writing I will graciously accept pleaseeeee!!!

Now usually I’ll do one or the other, but I’m a big fan of Masky/Tim. So I’m gonna do yandere this time since there’s not a lot of that. This will follow a bit under the Slenderverse ( marble hornets ) version of Masky and not too much into the Creepypasta Masky version. I’ll be picking some stuff out of both overall, but mostly leaning toward Marble hornets. Thank you sm for requesting! - Willow

Warnings :, slight dub-con( if you squint) , captivity , Stockholm syndrome, restraints, murder, stalking, minors do not interact

Masky/Tim Wright Yandere A-Z

YANDERE A-Z first

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Masky and Tim equally don’t know how to show affection properly, so when it’s shown, it’s very very intense.

Masky mostly has a hard time emotionally speaking on his love towards you. You’ll mostly have physical contact from him. ( him holding you down and not letting you go)

Tim is the opposite side of the coin. He’s a bit awkward when it comes to showing physical affection, but he tries his best to show his love to you verbally.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Masky has no problem with spilling blood if it means you stay with him forever. He’ll kill anyone that gets in his way from his goal, you.

Tim isn’t much for killing, he’s the type to not do it unless it’s a necessary action. I.e. self defense.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

I’ve seen a lot of fanfics where Masky is kind and caring. That’s not it here I’m sorry.

Masky is definitely the type to belittle and mock you while you are under his care. If you can call it that

Masky is more ruthless than most think. He will tie you down if need be. He doesn’t want you trying to run away from the cabin he’s hid you in.

If you are a fighter, he takes his time with you. He will knock you over and make you struggle to try and get up. He will force you to look at him whenever just to show you he is in control.

Tim isn’t going to mock you, in fact he feels a lot of guilt abducting you. He definitely tries to make up for the time his other side kicks in. He has little to no memory when Masky is in control, he only knows what happens when you tell him, or when Brian tells him.

Either way, Tim feels a lot of remorse for your situation, but it’s not like he’s going to up and let you go.

He secretly likes that you’re stuck with him, he’ll blame Masky for everything that goes wrong, but it’s not like he’s going to do anything about it.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Masky will take out any of his pent up frustration onto you ( sexually mostly) that or he’ll pull your hair just to make you tear up.

Tim does his best to respect any boundaries you set. The only one that he tends to cross is whenever he wants to hold you in his arms. This burly man just wants to feel you in his arms , and he can’t help himself.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Masky bares nothing to his love. He’s not even emotionally in check with himself, how would he be able to be open with his victim partner?

Tim has a lot of trouble opening up to his love, but all it takes is one time for him to tearfully open up about

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Masky can and will rock your shit if you tried to fight him. He does not care one bit if you get knocked out or have a concussion after this match, this man fights to win.

Tim doesn’t want to deal with any fighting , the most he’ll do is to try and stop you from hitting him. He’ll grab your wrists or ankles to stop him from hitting or kicking him. A frown would be very apparent on his face as he’s asking you to stop trying to hurt him.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

This isn’t a game to either of them. Both just want you to accept their love. Tim just wants you to accept their love and accept him as who he is while Masky doesn’t care if you love him or not, he just wants control over you.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Masky will put you through hell a lot. The most specific time where life was made a living hell for you was when you tried to run away. You got a good bit away from the cabin, but got envitably lost in the woods.

It wasn’t until you bumped into Brian, who picked you up and dragged you back to Masky.

Once Masky came back to the cabin after trying to find you, he waited for Brian to leave before dragging you to the back room.

He’d strip you down and put a chain around your ankle tightly. Letting you have just amount of length from the chain to roam around the empty room and to the bathroom.

He’d leave you in that dark back room to starve for a few days. It won’t be until the 3rd day that he lets you out, waiting for you to beg for food. Masky is petty enough to probably eat food in front of you just to make you angry. Of course once you apologize for running away and swearing to stay by his side will he finally give you food and unchain you.

Tim’s worst moment is when you tell him you hate him for the first time. He’d react negatively, not knowing what to say, he’ll just avoid you because he can’t handle the idea of you hating him.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Neither of them truly have an idea for the future, given their current position with the operator /slenderman, the future isn’t really guaranteed. Tim wants to atleast one day have a family with you.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Masky definitely gets jealous, he tends to take out his jealousy onto you physically though.

Tim doesn’t take his jealousy onto you physically, he will get pouty and demand for reassurance that you love and need him.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Masky is very cruel with his darling, his kisses are rough and feral. He doesn’t give you time to breathe and he doesn’t let you try to pull away either.

Tim wants you to feel safe and comfortable with him. He wants you to want to kiss him. His kisses are gentle and warm. His lips taste like smoke and coffee

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Masky doesn’t really court, he just hunts

Tim is more courting, he’s just awkward about it. He’d start by watching your routine, seeing what you like and dislike. He wants you to see him as the perfect suitor for you. He’ll try to bump into you at a coffee shop or a store you like.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

They’re both the same around everyone else for the most part, except their affections are only for you.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Masky will full on throw hands with you or isolate you.

Tim will scold you and at very very worse maybe lock you in both of y’all’s room if you’re acting up.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Masky will take away a lot of rights from you. This man is all about having power over you. So little freedoms like walking around the cabin freely or maybe going outside even takes a lot of time to be given those rights back.

Tim doesn’t like taking rights away, but if you push him, you’ll lose a lot of rights . He’ll sorta gaslight you into understanding why your rights are being taken away for your own good.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Masky has little to no patience. He’s not the soundest of men. He will snap and blow up on you if you act up.

Tim is more patient depending on his headspace. If he’s in a bad mood, he’s very short and snappy with you. If he’s in a good mood, he’s much more patient and understanding with you.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Masky will move on easily since he’s not really emotionally attached to you. Now if you ran away, he’d take pleasure in hunting you down. Just expect to be heavily punished when he enviably catches you.

Tim will not move on from you ever. He loves you and will blame himself if you die. If you run away, he’ll panic and call Brian for help in catching you. The imagine of these two men hunting you down can be very terrifying or very hot if you’re into a good chase.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Tim is the only one who feels regret. There would only be one time where his judgment would lapse and he would consider letting you go, but he’s quick to come to his senses and get rid of that option.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Definitely his upbringing, but definitely post Marble hornets can play a part in his fear of losing someone. So the fear of losing you could push him to abduct you. He just wants to protect you.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Masky couldn’t care less. He won’t let you have any ounce of control when it comes to isolating yourself from him. He’ll tie you down before letting you get away with ignoring him. He enjoys hearing you scream and seeing you cry, he loves seeing your reactions.

Tim’s heart breaks a little anytime he sees you cry. He doesn’t like seeing you suffer any way, especially when he knows he’s playing a role in your suffering.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Masky is incapable of being a classic yandere. He doesn’t love you, he’s obsessed with you and wants to have control over you. He will kill anything you love just to have you.

Tim isn’t delusional, he knows what he’s doing is wrong, he just wants you reciprocate his feelings.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Tim’s weakness is his guilt over having you captive here and because he’s opened up about his past regrets ( Jay’s death) if you exploit that , there’s a slim chance where he’d let you have the option to go. Of course; he’ll instantly regret giving you that choice and try to take it back. If you run away before he does change his mind, that’s your free ticket out.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Masky would 100% hurt you just to make you scared. He wants to display that he is stronger and faster than you.

Tim will never willingly hurt you, he adores you too much to wish any sort of harm onto you. He tends to try and clean up any wounds you’d have after interacting with Masky.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Masky doesn’t care about winning you over, he just wants you to fear him and let him have control over you.

Tim will try to win over your heart over and over again. He wants you to willingly be with him, and will actively try to show you that being with him is the best way.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Both don’t take too long to pine after you. The part before they’d snap is longer solely because they’re spending time stalking you.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Masky will 100% break you if you push him too hard. He wants full control over you.

Tim will definitely not want to break you, he wants you to love him willingly

[valeskawhore]

IMAGINE:

APOCALYPSE AU?? PROXIES X READER (IDEA!)

A/N: This is an idea that I’ve been seeing all around tumblr from my mutuals and honestly, why the hell not? I love the idea of apocalyptic survival. Let me know if this should be a series !!

An eerie creak sounds out behind me as I opened the window, and Dust flooded the dimly lit room as I made my way inside. Exploring abandoned houses wasn't always a typical interest of mine, but staying warm and having a dry place to sleep at night was.

Rain clashed gently down on the roof from outside, crickets could be heard and soon the silence rested back into place when I pulled the cracked window shut from the other side.

This place definitely was not the best, but at least it was dry.

First thing I did was open my backpack, setting up candles and hanging an old sheet that I found laying in the corner, over the window to block out the light.

Repeatedly, I told myself that this was just temporary.

I didn't have enough food to last more than a few nights anyways. Walkers roamed more and more with every passing day, tho winter was coming and it was coming fast.

Hopefully, that would do something to slow the walkers, even if it was just by a few steps, I prayed.

With a sigh, I slowly sat down on the make-shift mattress that I made for myself, hearing my ankles pop in the process because man, I really needed to stretch more often, I'm not getting any younger.

I took off my baseball cap and pulled down my mask to breathe just a little bit clearer, running my fingers through my hair, I noticed how greasy it was. The thought made me disgusted since.. Well, I couldn't even imagine how I smelled and i didnt want to either.

Popping open a bottle of water, I drank my thirst away. Listening to the rain pour, the thunder crack and the sounds of the undead trudging along outside.

As I clenched my eyes shut for a second..

I blocked out the screams, the cries and pleads for help.. The cocking of guns and the growls of the unthinkable tearing and ripping the flesh of the people being eaten alive. My fingernails began to itch, my knuckles on fire, tears welding in my eyes.

“Y/N!!” She screamed, “HELP ME!!” she cried..

I sat my bottled water down, and lit up a cigarette.

“It’ll be ok..” I told myself, “Survive one more day, just one more,” everynight.

“I’ll find you baby.. one day..”

I closed my eyes.. Relaxed my body, breathed out deeply.

“Goodnight y/n” I told myself.

The front door clashed open.

*~*~*~~*~*~*~

“GET INSIDE! GET THE FUCK INSIDE!” A voice screamed. The sounds of the undead gurgled up the last of their life and slammed their heads against the door, screaming. I heard multiple people slamming themselves against the front door, refraining it from opening. “ROGERS, FIND SOMETHING, NOW. WE NEED TO BARD THE DOOR!”

“I-I-M OHN–ON IT!!” Someone stuttered.

I jumped up from my mattress, reaching for my gun and loading in the magazine. I threw the sleeping bag off of me, and unlocked the door. I heard the others rummaging down stairs for something to board the door. I peaked my head out,

Something suddenly rammed against my head, the door was torn open, slamming into my head. I fell back on my ass, and reached around lazily for my gun.

I heard a gasp fall above me, my vision was spinning, but I found my gun and raised it above me at the silhouette. There were two of them, then three, then two, until both shadow figures meshed into one guy. His face was something more,

Two dark brown eyes, greasy chestnut hair, he nose was already bleeding and there was a bandage covering up the right side of his lips stretching to his cheek bones.

He was definitely a young man, 23-24 maybe. Wearing yellow rusted-rimmed goggles, a blue hoodie with a tanned, older jacket overtop, there was a black and gray-ish mask wrapped around his neck and pulled up over his face. The (now) snickering man wore stained blue jeans and some bloodied converse.

His laugh rang out through my skull, pounding against my ear lobes. His eyes became impossibly wide now, canines glimmering in the moonlight as thunder cracked in the background.

With one final sadistic smile,

He picked up his double hand axes and raised them high, His laughter almost screams now, The screams of a hyena, a skinwalker luring its prey.

The young man brought the axes down quickly,

I rolled over with a small scream, doing my best to avoid the hard steel.

I fumbled around on the ground, reaching for my gun.

When I had it in my hand, the man jumped on me and slammed my back into the hardwood floor. The house was so old that dust jumped into the air, and swam around. I clenched my eyes shut and coughed until I could breathe again. I felt his boney hands wrap around my throat, his skin uncomfortably cold and white. I kicked my feet behind him and threw my head back,

The man let up his grip but didn't scream out in pain, his laughter only grew.

I grabbed the boy's hair and threw him off of me, his body collided against the wall,

Because,

His body actually went through it, clashing into the room next to us.

Dust flooded the room once more, and as the psychopath took longer than expected to rise back to his feet, I grabbed my sleeping bag and ran downstairs, contents loosley in hand.

I struggled to throw my jacket on as i ran down the steps,

A shorter figure stepped in front of me, and stuck his leg out, successfully tripping me in the process. I felt my world being flipped upside down as my rib cage cracked against the staircase. I coughed up blood, my heartbeat in my ears as I laid there motionless.

With my vision dark, i could only here throat-ripping screeching from the outside world,

Three figures stepped in my view of the door, I pulled my arms in front of me and did my best to drag my body away. I moaned out in a breath-less cry as I felt the rusted nails sticking out of the wood flooring scraped against my cracked ribs.

Something stopped me, whoever or.. Whatever it was, grabbed my achilles heel and dragged me back in the living room with one strong pull.

They flipped me on my back, blood dripped down the corner of my mouth as I did my best to control my breath. Hesitantly, I reached my hand up and folded my fist into a weak, shaky middle finger, my ‘fuck you’ to the world.

I heard one of them snicker before the tallest one leaned down carefully, dark red painted eyes peered into mine before he pulled off my mask. I had a surge of anger come over me, as I reached to kick him in the balls but he caught my leg, almost expecting it even. His grip tightened menacingly on my thigh, before he gave my cracked rib cage an almost impossibly fast sucker punch.

I coughed out blood on instinct, my body spasming. I held my chest and my body folded forwards, my knees to my chest. “F-fuck you..” I coughed, tears streaming down my face.

His hand, still on my thigh, tightened once more. Leaning close to my face, the stranger whispered..

“What.. do we have here?”

[ghostgirl101]

Can we get some headcanons of Jeff t.K. in a relationship? ^^

Dating Jeff The Killer Would Be Like This:

A/N: Well, this is a long overdue request, hope the wait was worth it 🙃 I’m going to be waiting for you all at least twice a week from now on, and there are a few spaces left for requests if you want to get yours in for Jeff and others now if you're interested 🔪 This is the original creepypasta Jeff, but I could try writing for David Near's version too if anyone's wondering... enjoy.

🔪• Well damn, there's a lot to include for this crazy son of a biatch, so get ready-

🔪• It's an uncomfortable night, the skies outside pitch black, stars clouded over and your curtains ruffling as you glare tiredly at the ceiling, wishing for sleep to overtake you. But there's just something that's keeping you half-aware, something that makes you toss and turn for a while, eyeing the window with a furrow of your brows. It's almost like someone's watching your every move. You just can't see them.

🔪• Until that whispering, hoarse voice pierces through the still silence from behind your curtains, making your eyes widen in horror at the sadistic chuckling that only gets nearer as you will your body to move from its frozen position.

🔪• The tip of his blade skims across the skin off your face before you can make out his own, pale and deathly and twisted with a nasty, deeply cut grin etched up his cheeks. His cold blue eyes linger over your features, and it’s a frustrating and vulnerable feeling knowing that can read you a lot better than you can him. It’s a tense few moments when all you feel is the end of the sharp dagger trace just light enough down a cheek and your lips, resting there for a second, as if he’s thinking.

🔪• Jeff doesn’t keep you alive just because you’re you - he doesn’t know who you are, or why you look, in his eyes, almost as beautiful as he does. But it makes him curious and confused, something he’s not used to and doesn’t particularly like at first. So with a scoff, the knife is suddenly snatched away, replaced with his face right down next to yours, with a “go to sleep~” and sudden darkness.

🔪• It’s a wonder to you when you wake up the next morning unharmed. It’s unheard of for the infamous killer to let his victims go, but after that night, it’s clear to you that what you experienced wasn’t some sort of weird nightmare. You feel eyes on you almost every minute of the day, footsteps that aren’t your own following you when you’re by yourself, shadows in the hall that turned out to be nothing…

🔪• The only times Jeff will make his appearances where you can actually see and talk to him is at night. At first, it's kind of to see how you'll react - scared and screaming panicking like the others, or oddly curious and mildly apprehensive - if you show the latter, he'll definitely be caught if guard, because he's used to the screaming and crying. But even if you do panic and start some weird chase scene around your house, Jeff seems to find it amusing, until he's had enough and corners you, hissing in your ear, "would you calm the hell down doll, you don't wanna wake the whole damn street, now do you?"

🔪• And you're like yes?!?? Because a scarred maniac is in my room and getting blood stains over my non-washable flooring??! Or maybe that's just me

🔪• This boy can be an absolute mystery to anyone who manages to survive him, because they never really figure out the solid reason why, or his whole backstory, his intentions, etc. All they know is that he's a killer who preys on young people at the night and disappears in the morning. Some survive him because they're interesting for a while, and die when they're not anymore. Some remind him of his past self, and on a bad day, he remembers how much he hates that and gets rid of them too. Some are just to play around with. And then there's you.

🔪• Jeff doesn't give you much of a reason either when you question his motives, because at first, he can't even be sure of why he's ket you around. Is it because you're pretty? Somehow different from his other victims? It's not because he's gone soft. The whole thought process ends up frustrating him, so he'll storm out the window to be alone and try taking his mind off it by going after some whiny targets. But still, he keeps thinking about the question, about you, watching him in some kind of awe and confusion. Why do you care? Why does he care?!

🔪• This whole thing is not some fast-paced cliche love story where everything's sappy and sweet and he'll kill everyone but you. He's still the infamous Jeff The Killer. But that doesn't mean he isn't a little soft for you. Just don't point it out, or he gets flustered and defensive.

🔪• At one point, he wanted to just kidnap you and have you with him all the time, but you had to put your foot down and promise to stick around every night for him to come and go as he pleases, which calmed him down. Because, yeah, that's not happening Jeff, calm yourselffff

🔪• It ends up being him popping in almost every night, with you learning to keep your windows open so you don’t have to keep on replacing the forced-in smashed glass. And even when he visits, it takes time for him to reveal himself, little by little, until you can make out all the rough burns and dried blood that blemish practically every inch of his skin. It's not that he's all insecure - he thinks he’s beautiful most days, and he’s not trying to make you feel less scared by his appearance, because him being the jackass that he is, finds jump scaring you funny.

🔪• But he can have bad days, days where he can't stop thinking about his brother and parents and all that made him who he is, and when that happens, he either bearly says anything and sulks with his knives in the corner of your room, and pretty much lets you do anything. Like, you could end up playing and studying his knives - he watches apprehensively at first, all ready for you to try to stab him in the back - but after time goes by and you've given up questioning yourself as to why you're letting a cold-blooded murderer hang out with you almost every night in your room, he sees that you're not trying to defend yourself in those extreme measures, so kind of lets you do your thing.

🔪• It's nice for him to have the company, too, and he enjoys the small conversations he has with you: the nosy, lucky, pretty little survivor who asks too many questions about him and has a smile that's almost as good as his. Him being him offers to carve one in, and still jokingly tries to while you fight him off with a string of curses. He can be really annoying when he wants to, because he finds your reactions cute. If, on the extremely rare occasions, you happen to see him before it goes dark, doing your homework or something, he'll try drawing on the paper or mucking around with your stuff to distract you. If you're watching something, he'll spoil the ending or give a stupid running commentary. If you annoy him back by any means you can, Jeff gets all pouty and frustrated, but it's also sort of endearing to him??

🔪• So he'll be all "are you freaking stupid, or just suicidal, antagonising a serial killer?!" but he can't help scoffing at you in some form of fondness that he hasn't even realised has been growing in him

🔪• When he ultimately realises that hey! you're stalking and killing the bullies of and are increasingly obsessing over this person, it takes him a bit of time to process. He might not show up on that night, wanting to get his thoughts straight, leaving you very confused, but Jeff does show up the next night wanting you to shut up and sit down and listen to him, because he doesn't want to make this any weirder than it feels for him. You'll hardly understand what he's getting at when he spurts out how you're different and he doesn't really believe in fate but something feels right and every Clyde needs his Bonnie and random crap like that 😂

🔪• You'll have to cut him off with a "so are you asking me out?" and he's like "well... yeah, duh. Don't even think about saying no, because you're not getting rid of me, even if you want to, alright?!?" You can tell he's uncharacteristically nervous. So when you've assessed the situation and see that there's no more harm than there already has been to saying yes, there's an unreadable look of shock and something more in his stony eyes. Then his grin is back, and he's annoying you again by whirling you around in the air and stuff, and boom! You're never getting rid of the maniac. He's yours. Congratulations.

🔪• I'm gonna be honest with you; dating Jeff The Killer is definitely not the easiest mountain you chose to climb, but at the end of the day, if all you want is his manic, obsessive love and devotion to you, then it's well worth it. Take the amount of obsessiveness and stalker behaviour he's shown to you as a weird-ass friend and multiply it by a thousand. I'm not kidding.

🔪• Jeff The Killer genuinely cares about those who have somehow made it to that point with him, and as you're at the top of that list, damn, you'll be spoiled. Don't ask him where he gets all the jewels and trinkets and things you've been wanting or that match your hobbies and talents, because they're yours, and they've always been yours. So your welcome, enjoy, he knew you'd like it. That's one way he shows his love. It's kind of like a way of saying that he's always thinking about you, which isn't an exaggeration at all. I can definitely imagine him killing for you with pride and bringing back a heart all casual-like, while you shake your head with an awkward smile.

🔪• "That's, uh, sweet of you, Jeff, but seriously, throw it away now, that's rank."

🔪• No one else catches his eye after you, too. He's never met someone truly beautiful, inside and out, before you, and he's convinced he won't after. So if someone tries to beg for their life or give him compliments he used to like, it's pretty much ineffective now. "You'll ever be as hot as my doll is, you sadass, but here, I'll carve a little something to get you halfway there~"

🔪• He can actually be surprisingly sweet when he wants to. On his bad days, now he'll just lean into you in silence and twirl his blade around, while you play with his hair or put something on TV or somehow end up staring at him. If you look closer and beyond the chalky white shade of his burnt skin and the deep, bloody scars that trace up from his lips, you can notice how he probably was a good-looking boy before the 'accident.' But don't let him catch you looking, because, bad mood or not, he's a cocky bastard, and will end up grinning and saying something like "it's rude to stare, dolly," which ruins the moment lmao

🔪• Jeff can also get clingy when he feels like it too, though he'll never admit it. He likes how your body's always warm when he is somehow always freezing, and being able to have time alone with you, where you're all his, and no one can take it away from him. He'll go freaking rabid if anyone tries, and no one wants that.

🔪• He gets a little awkward when it comes to comfort and opening up, but he'll get there. He learns from you to just give you a silent hug instead of patting you on the back and telling you to chin up or something stupid, or tries to make you laugh, or kills the thing that's getting you down, if you let him. That's your decision 🙃

🔪• He eventually opens up to you about his past, too, which takes him a lot of courage and a lot of patience for you. It's good that you know, though, because it's something to be even closer about, and the more you know about each other, the more you belong together. At least, that's Jeff's logic.

🔪• Jeff can be a bit possessive and sulky when those moments have to end in the mornings, and he's been known to just shove his white hoodie over your head and demand you wear it when he's not with you. Which is fine, Jeff, but seriously, clean that blood of it first.

🔪• But when all is said and done, no matter how heartless and cold and crazy he may seem, and undoubtedly is, he's sane enough to know that he loves you. His love can be ridiculously intense and overwhelming at times, but you can learn to work around or with it. He will do it. Whether anyone believes it or not, him and you knowing your love is enough for Jeff.

[dias-writing-corner]

I keep thinking abt yandere ticci Toby that started off as childhood friends.

You meet him through his sister as the 2 of you were good friends long before you meet her brother. And sure you’ve heard Lyra mention how her brother is being bullied and about his  Tourette’s through the school grapevine but you’ve never actually met the kid or even really seen him outside of pics or from afar.

Anyways when you meet him he’s this shy and awkward kid who’s a year or so under you and Lyra. But you don’t judge him for his Tourette’s or anything, you’ve always been a kind person like that. As you hang out with the two of them he starts getting this silly little puppy crush on you and Lyra teases both of you - separately - about it. But you blow her off as you just see him as a little brother.

Soon Lyra gets into her accident and dies. Leaving a hole in both yours and Toby’s lives and hearts. You spend more time with each other trying to remember her, you bring him homework he missed from staying home after her death and start to notice he’s more erratic with his behavior. Prone to outbursts or even aggressive behavior towards you. You can’t stand his self harm - even if he doesn’t feel what he’s doing to his hands - and he snaps at you when you press the issue too much. After you leave each time he lashes out at you Toby feels bad and beats himself up, after all he’s lost his sister, he doesn’t want to lose you as well.

But he eventually becomes so overcome with grief and anger he goes through with the murder of his step dad and burning the house down. And Slenderman wipes his memory of everything before his moment of retribution.

You notice the flames on your way to give him the latest bit of homework. Pressing harder on the gas until you stop your car in front of the building house, leaving the car you run up to the caution tape set up by police and the fire department. Falling to your knees in grief as you sob and scream his name, one arm covering your face as the other holds onto your opposite shoulder in a desperate attempt to comfort yourself.

~~~

Years have passed yet you still hold onto the 2 Polaroids of your dearly departed friends. One was yours originally, the second was Lyra’s and the third that was Toby’s was assumed to have burned in the fire. The Polaroids were of a day you all went out and got ice cream and had fun like kids, one of the last times that happened before Lyra’s death.

Anyways you’d be well into college, perhaps junior or senior year? Focusing on studies has been hard for the past few months due to feeling like you’re being watched constantly. And quite honestly it’s starting to affect your grades. So you go out to the woods, to a part where the hiking path leads to a small clearing with one or two picnic tables. Settling down at one with your books and notes you try to let the sounds of the woods envelope you in peace and quiet to focus. Only for it to get a little too quiet and set off that feeling of being watched once more.

After a while you realize you’re not going to get much of anything done like this. You try to leave but as you get to the start of the path that leads home you find yourself stuck to a tree. Back digging into the harsh bark of the tree, a strange man with orange tinted goggles over the eyes and a strange mask covering the lower part of the face. You can hear the man breathe heavy, only one arm of his presses into you and holds you still.

Something in you tells you to keep quiet, an almost primal urge to make yourself as small as possible. You try to shrink into the tree behind you. Noticing the 2 deadly weapons fastened onto his hips, a small whimper escapes you as tears form in your eyes. He reaches down into his pocket and brings out a folded piece of film, unfolding it and showing you it. It’s crumpled around the edges and worn but you can still make out the smiling faces of a young Lyra Toby and you.

“H-how do you have that? It should’ve burned…” you ask in astonishment as tears threaten to fall from your eyes at the memories of your deceased friends.

The man’s neck twitches so hard you worry it’d snap, he doesn’t say anything and just points at young you in the picture. You nod your head and say “ye-yes that’s me..” assuming that’s what the man was asking. Using his free hand he tugs the goggles off his face and lets them rest in the messy brown hair atop his head.

Eyes crinkled in a sort of joy or maybe excitement as he finally speaks up. “F-f-found yo-ou”

[bwabys-scenarios]

Reunited

Part 8

Illumi x Reader

Part 7

Part 9

“Don’t you mess with me!” Menchi roared. “I don’t want any lip from a bunch of amateurs that can’t even roast a pig!!”

She shook the ninja who dared to insult her violently.

“What did you say?! Why don’t you just repeat it right to my face!!”

She let him go and sat back down, crossing her legs. (Name) awkwardly scooted near Buhara, liking her chances with him better.

“In other words, you people don’t have the guts to try something new, that’s why you failed. Maybe try taking a page from #406 and learning how to cook a pig.”

“Shut up!”

Menchi looked up to see #255 pointing in her direction.

“I don’t give a shit about becoming a gourmet hunter or whatever. I want to be an ACTUAL hunter.”

The crowd of contestants cheered in agreement.

“My goal is to become a Black List Hunter. I refuse to let a mere Gourmet Hunter decide my fate.”

Menchi raised an eyebrow.

“Too bad you got stuck with a mere gourmet hunter as an examiner… better luck next year?”

#255 grit his teeth.

“Why you… don’t mock me!”

The large man advanced, raising his fist to strike Menchi, who sat calmly.

Before the contestant could make contact, Buhara smacked him away with one hand, sending him flying through the air.

(Name) watched on in horror, holding down her skirt from the breeze caused my Buhara’s strike.

“Buhara, don’t interfere.”

Menchi eyed him, a dangerous glint in her eyes.

“Well… if I hadn’t interfered, you’d have killed him, right?”

Menchi laughed humorously as she stood from her seat, holding several cooking knives in hand.

“Probably.”

She stepped forward, each clink her shoe made causing (name) to flinch.

“Let me clarify this. We frequently venture into the dens of ferocious beasts, searching for ingredients.”

She raised her hands, the knives flying up.

“Every Hunter knows some form of martial art.”

As she spoke, she juggled the knives with ease, at a pace that made in nearly impossible to see said blades.

“You lack focus and the willingness to experiment. That alone disqualifies you from becoming hunters!”

She brandished the knives in her hand, pointing them towards the contestants. They stared on in awe at her skill, some hanging their heads in regret.

“That being said…”

Everyone looked around as an old man’s voice rang out through the testing place.

“It would be excessive to fail every applicant but one.”

Menchi gasped and looked up. A blimp flew overhead, hovering just above the training ground.

“That’s the symbol of the hunters association!” One of the contestants cried out.

“Is that-“

The person was cut off by something falling and hitting the ground, causing a dust cloud to form in the air. The group coughs as the dust clears.

Gon and the rest of the group steadies themselves, looking through the dust to see who it was.

Illumi, in his disguise, looks on, less than impressed while Hisoka scowled next to him.

An old man appeared, walking towards (Name) and the instructors.

“Wh-who’s that geezer?” One of the contestants whispers.

“The chairman of the selection committee. He’s in charge of the Hunter exam, Chairman Netero.”

Menchi replies, seeming a lot calmer.

“Well, I work behind the scenes. I only take action when there’s an issue, like now.”

Netero sighs and looks up.

“So, young Menchi…”

“Yes sir.”

“You failed all but one of the applicants because you disapproved and of their reluctance to try new things?”

Menchi shook her head, her hair waving frantically.

“No, I lost my cool when one of the candidates insulted Gourmet Hunters, and I made the exam harder than necessary.”

Netero nodded.

“In other words, you’re aware this exam was unacceptable.”

“Yes sir, I lose my cool when cooking is involved.”

The two continue their conversation. (Name)‘a gaze drifts to her friends, who had their eyes on her. She waves, trying to go unnoticed by the people chatting. They wave back, Kurapika and Leorio looking concerned.

“Very well, how about this.”

(Name) perked back up.

“I’d like you to continue serving as an examiner, but you must also participate in the new test you propose. Is that acceptable? I’m sure that will help the applicant accept the results.”

Menchi smiles, and nods thoughtfully.

“That sounds good. Then the new challenge will be boiled eggs!”

“Boiled eggs?”

“Chairman, can you rage us to Mt. Split-in-Half in your airship?”

Netero laughed.

“Mt. Split-in-Half? I see what you’re doing. Certainly I can.”

——————

The contestants disembarked on a large, red tinted mountain with a wide crack in the middle.

“Now everyone… look down there.” Menchi says, hands on her hips.

“What is that?”

Right below them was a cavern with web like structures stretched from side to side, holding up clusters of eggs.

“A spider eagles nest.”

“They build webs down there?” Gon asks, looking down.

(Name) watches as the group chats with Menchi. She demonstrates how to get an egg, and they watch on in amazement.

“Since you passed last round, you won’t be participating.”

(Name) turned to see Chairman Netero smiling behind her. She squeaked out a thank you, which seemed to amuse him.

“You already know who I am, but what is your name, #406?”

(Name) paused, then answered as calmly as she could.

“I’m (Name), (Last Name). Thank you so much for the opportunity to become a hunter.”

Netero chuckled, pulling at his beard.

“No need to thank me, I’m just an old man doing his job. I’m not the one who made it this far, so you only have yourself to thank for that. Passing Menchi’s test isn’t easy. It seems she may have taking a liking to you.”

Netero looks the woman up and down. As he begins to talk more, he senses a presence nearby, specifically a malicious one. He stops and gives her a grin.

“It was nice talking to you, I’ll see you soon on the airship, Miss (Name).”

(Name) watched as Netero left, relaxing a bit when she couldn’t see him any longer.

‘Seems the girl has someone watching over her.’ Netero thought to himself, getting a little excited.

‘This exam will be interesting.’

—————

The four boys approached (Name) after the whole ordeal.

“(Name) you gotta try this boiled egg, it’s delicious! I don’t think I’ve ever tasted a better egg!”

Leorio held out half of his egg to her, which (Name) took with a thanks.

“Thank you, I was starving.”

They all eat in comfortable silence, enjoying their prizes.

“Quite a few applicants gave up without trying.” Kurapika said, filling (Name) in.

“Their loss!” Leorio said between bites.

Killua watched (Name) as he ate with light concern.

“I saw that old guy was talking with you earlier. What did he want?”

(Name) tilted her head.

“Nothing really, just had me introduce myself to him, and said something about it being hard to pass Menchi’s tests.”

“It seems that’s true.” Kurapika agreed, nodding his head.

“She’s quite skilled, though seems impatient when it comes to things she holds dear.”

They all nodded.

“All contestants, please make your way to the airship!”

The group winced at the announcement.

“Damn that was loud!” Leorio exclaimed, rubbing his head. “Enough to give me a damn headache.”

The group walk onto the airship along with their fellow contestants.

[bloodblanks]

custom yandere boyfriend pricelist

this is a collaboration with the lovely @nemugyo! ♡

for more information about having a personalized yandere boyfriend, click here ✌︎('ω'✌︎ )

[eyeless-cunt]

KINKTOBER DAY 7

PROMPT: Stalking/Dub-Con

CREEP: Toby

Word Count: 2.3k

CW: 18+, Sexual Content, Stalking, Dub-Con, Kidnapping, Outdoors Sex, Creampie because I said so.

KINKTOBER '24 MASTERLIST

‘Why don't you ever wear that hoodie I left you? I'd love to take it off you. Let me fuck you in it?’

-xoxo, Toby

I gasp reading the note, my face heating at the mental image of him holding me down, bent over the counter with my ass in the air. I'm immediately brushing the thought away, knowing that even entertaining his notes could spur him on to leave other things. I find my eyes scanning the tree line outside of my window, but as usual they find nothing. He's never been that sloppy.

I finish making my breakfast, trying to just ignore the note entirely but doing a uniquely bad job of it. My eyes always flick back to it, curious not only about what he's written, but the man himself. I'd only seen him once, the sight of the large man alone out in the snow giving me shivers even now, months later. I had noticed his beat hatchets, and the nasty scar on his cheek that somehow only served to make him more attractive. It was clear something had happened to take off quite a bit of flesh near the corner of his mouth. Swaying while slowly eating my breakfast has my mind wandering to how he got it. The only guess I had was a gunshot wound maybe–what else could take that much off?

I remembered how his voice sounded, the way my name came out in a much different tone than everything else. The way he stared at me hungrily, as though our separation was only temporary. It made me feel like a prey animal. Remembering the richness of his voice had my stomach doing backflips against my will.

Truthfully, I had shoved his sweatshirt in the closet so it would never see the light of day again. It smelled of him, a scent that was more mouthwatering than it should be. I found myself having to fight not to bring it up to my face to breathe it in fully–a fact I'm ashamed of now.

A creak snaps me out of my thoughts, my head practically whipping in that direction. I set my empty plate aside, it being completely forgotten now. Is it him? I'm left wondering, my feet scurrying to the open window, head popping outside. I found nothing. Toby isn't here, he's either watching from somewhere else or busy with something else. In horror, I find my heart is sinking at the thought that it wasn't him. I'm frozen at the idea that I was excited to see him. As if those first few weeks after I had first seen and made contact with him weren't terrifying. As if the sight of him didn't have me trembling, the idea that a man had been the one stealing all my belongings had caused me great fear.

And yet now I found that at some point as my mind spent all day thinking about him, those thoughts slowly started shifting. When? When I left the first note, threatening him to give me back my clothes. I'd been so nervous but resigned, sick of losing things.

‘Toby. Give me back my stuff.

I'm running out of underwear, asshole.’

I hadn't signed it, and hadn't given him anything else. But he took it. The next morning a bag of my clothing and belongings I forgot even existed laid on my front porch. I felt so excited that day, finally victorious. I took it to my bedroom, spilling out the contents on my bed and finding a note from him at the bottom. My heart picked up as I reached for it, hands a bit shaky.

‘Sweetheart, I hope this package finds you well. However, note that you running out of underwear is only a better view for me. If you'd ever like to repay me for this favor, please bend over the kitchen counter while wearing that pretty skirt you like. No panties required.

-I miss you, xoxo, Toby’

My thighs clenched together as I read his note, a strange sort of heat filling me as I wondered how he'd react if I did just that. Would he stay in his hiding place and simply watch? I imagined the way his hands would look pulling himself out of his jeans, the bottom of his well worn shirt between his teeth as he stroked himself at the sight of me bare and on display for him. I couldn't help but wave the thought away, my thighs starting to stick together. That's when I noticed his hoodie laying on my bed. It smelled of pine, and somehow a garage. Was he a mechanic, maybe?

I felt my stomach flip, my hands fighting to not bring it to my face. Even better not to practically jump it. In order to keep myself in control I threw it into the closet, scared to hold it for longer than a few seconds. I won't note how I smelt my hands later, the traces of his scent almost sending me into the closet to touch myself with that hoodie pressed to my face. Shamefully, I’d left the room entirely, figuring I'd put all of that away later when my brain was stable.

Now, here I was staring out a window thinking of the few times I'd had contact with him. Missing him, almost. I couldn't believe myself, nor the thoughts he had racing through my mind. The note from this morning made me almost write him back. I was seriously considering it, although unsure of what to write and seriously considering my sanity.

‘You can certainly take it off of me–it’s in the closet.

Take it home with you.’

I bit my lip, wondering if he'd see the double meaning the same way I did. It felt desperate leaving this note, and a bit shameful considering my less than pure reasons for leaving it. Despite that, I set it on the counter. He would see it tonight when I slept.

Sure enough, I woke in the morning to no sweatshirt in the closet. It was the first thought on my mind when I awoke, barely opening my eyes before my feet hit the floor, wobbling over to the closet with a loud yawn. Nope, no hoodie in there. I tried to fight my slight disappointment, chastising myself. What else did I expect?

I turned around only to jump in fright, making eye contact with the exact man I was thinking of. My brain started moving hundreds of miles a minute, my heart practically beating out of my chest. I should be scared, right? So why was I actually more nervous than anything? I took a step backwards, my back hitting the wall.

He stood tall, his dark brown hair longer than I remember it. It was messy, reaching almost his shoulders. I took in the size of him, wondering just how exactly he would feel against me. His eyes laid on me, something I couldn't name burning in them.

“Toby…?” The words came out slowly, quiet, and shaking. He started walking towards me, the sight sending me searching for something to hit him with, figuring maybe he got tired of me and decided I was better off dead. He was on me before I could even move, hand placed on my lower back, his other holding my chin, lifting it up towards him.

“Yes, baby?” He smiled, the sight almost sending me to my knees. Now closer, I could see light freckles lining his nose and sitting under his eyes, some scattered elsewhere only less. My mouth opened and closed repeatedly, my brain unable to find the words. Suddenly, he grabbed at my clothing, pinching my...hoodie? Ah, I was wearing it. When did I? My head buffered, trying to make sense of what exactly was happening here. Had I...?

His hands slipped under it, his rough palms against my waist sending shocks all throughout my body. He felt my shiver and smiled, a look that screamed ‘I won’, filling his eyes.

“So,” his voice drawled out, deep and rich and almost enough to send me to my knees, my legs beginning to shake. “Should I take it off of you then? Or should I take it home with me? What do you think, sweetheart?” I felt my thighs clench, a wetness beginning to form against my wishes.

“I…,” I could barely get the words out, the way his hands slowly rubbed up and down my waist were making my head seem muddled. “Take it home.” I tried to give him a glare, but knew I failed.

“Sure, I'd love to.” He said it cheerfully, confusing me until I felt myself get lifted into the air, up and over his shoulder. I shrieked, startled. He was carrying me like a sack of potatoes through the house, leading out the back door with no hesitation.

“Toby, wait! What are you doing? I said the sweatshirt! Take it home! Where are you taking me?” Everything came out in rapid succession, my words finally complete and flowing. He only laughed, a hand slapping my ass and causing me to gasp. I felt myself growing wetter, ashamed but also about to lose my mind. He had my almost bare ass by his face, I slept in underwear. “Toby! I'm serious!” His walking continued, and I got another slap. I had to clamp my mouth shut, sure I'd moan if he kept it up.

“Are you serious? What a coincidence, I think I am too.” He said it amusedly, with trace amounts of sarcasm.

“Toby! Seriously! Put me down, this is embarrassing!” He made a questioning humming noise, as if confused about what made it so embarrassing. Suddenly though, he realized, his steps faltering as I heard him suck in a sudden deep breath. I felt my body heat as his pace quickened, figuring he'd probably noticed by now that only underwear laid under the long t-shirt I’d worn to bed.

“Sorry, you'll have to forgive me, sweetheart.” Forgive him? I open my mouth to speak, only to gasp instead, one of his fingers slipping my underwear to the side as he continues his walking pace. “Toby–,” I'm completely cut off, a finger slipping inside of me and making me moan, embarrassment flooding my body. I slap my mouth shut, clenching my thighs as he fucks his finger into me, the feeling causing me to shake with pleasure. I hear him sigh, the sound of it relieved as he pushes another finger into me, the noise it makes as it slides in downright sinful. I can't open my mouth to tell him to stop, pleasure coursing through my body like a typhoon. If I could move my hips at all I'd likely be rolling them into his fingers greedily.

He pulls them out to slap my ass again, slipping them back in and fucking me at a new pace. I can't help the soft mewls that force their way out of my mouth, blood rushing to my head faster than usual now. His thumb finds my clit, rubbing harsh circles into me like a man starved. I can't help but call out his name, causing him to stop and lift me back up over his shoulder, flipping me onto my stomach on the ground. I yelp as he yanks my hips up into the air, and suddenly what I know is his tip is pushing at my entrance, the feeling of him pushing inside causing my eyes to roll. I'm so turned on I can't help but open my mouth and moan.

I weakly protest, but I think he knows I don't mean it. Either way he doesn't listen, hips snapping to meet me, flush against my skin as he fucks into me at a brutal pace. He's breathing heavily and squeezing my hips, using them to push his dick into me harder, my legs spreading as I basically beg for more. My back is arched as I feel myself clenching around him, an orgasm already ripping through me at the feeling of him inside me.

He laughs, noting the way my whole body tenses as I basically whimper into the ground. Continuing, he thumbs my clit again and begins to build up another orgasm. I'm fucking my hips back into him at this point, completely unsure of how we got here but obsessed with him inside me all the same. I'm a mess at this point, his hand threading through my hair and pulling as he fucks into me. His pace remains brutal, and I wonder how he's still going.

I begin moaning as I approach another orgasm, toes curled in the dirt as my hips roll, his name escaping me now like a mantra. He drops to the ground overtop me, forearms on either side of my head as he pushes into me somehow harder. He's speaking to me, but I don't hear it, too focused on the wave that hits me as I writhe below him. I'm a panting mess, completely fucked out as I wait for him to finish, his last few thrusts burning me a bit as I ache. For some reason the burn is just as delicious, and I find myself whimpering as he pulls out, his cum pooling onto the ground and dripping onto my thighs. I remain in that position, clenching around nothing but turned on again as I feel the ache he left behind.

I moan as I feel him slap my ass again, my face still facing the ground. I feel him lift me, princess style carry this time. We don't say a word, and I rest my head on his chest, sighing at the warmth that envelopes me from his body heat.

[festering-obsession]

How You Fell Into Their Trap II

TW: Hollywood-ized Disorders, Creepypasta, Slight Canon Divergence, Violence, Blood, Cannibalism, One Mention of Pregnancy (no plot relevance), Toxic Relationships, Stalking, Slight Suggestive Content, Kidnapping

Ticci Toby:

It was senior year of highschool when you encountered Toby Rogers himself. By then, nearly everyone at school had knew of the boy, his reputation. His stutters, his low self-esteem, his weird behaviors, but the rumor of how the poor bastard could not even feel pain fluttered around even more. Fortunately enough, he had switched to homeschooling. Poor boy.

In a way, you pitied him. However, you were not high on the popularity chain that comes with the shackles of high school. You tried to keep to yourself and graduate, keep away from any negative attention and keep leering eyes off of you.

Yet, fate did not have the in plan for you.

You had met his sister at your part time job, Lyra was her not, wasn't it? Time seems to fly as you're stuck in this mansion.

She had talked about her brother at times, how she feared he was falling behind and her parents did not seem to care it all. But, she was too busy working to help with school. Before you knew it, you volunteered yourself to help tutor him. Her smile was so bright that day when you told her.

You didn't think too much of it before it was too much to try and cut off.

Toby was very skittish and nervous, constantly pulling at his skin and hair nervously when you were near. As you were trying to go over calculus, you could not help but turn around and finally break the edge of professionalism, despite being the same in age.

"Toby, I promise you, I am not going to judge you. I'm hear to help you, and besides I don't have any room to judge..." You say, trying to offer him a hand on the desk but he shies away.

"H-How do I know?" He says, his hands grasping at his jacket.

"Well, I'm not doing this for money for starters..." You begin. "And your sister said we might have some things in common? I like movies..."

He nods, his brown eyes carefully watching you. "Yeah, m-me too..."

His courage slowly built up around you.. as well as his possessive nature. Everytime his father would break a beer bottle or his mom would yell, he'd grab to you for security. His hand clutched onto you as if you'd dissappear.

The days you didn't work, you'd head back home after school usually. One day of the week helping tutor Toby would turn into any day you did not have work.

The days you did work, he'd near be constantly blowing up your phone with messages. Anything from what he's eating, how he finished his homework, to what his favorite color is, what his father yelled at him this time for...

One time you forgot to mute your phone and it went off in class. You had to turn it into the teacher, and did not get it back until the end of the day. By the time you turned your phone back on, it was flooded with messages.

"Hey y/n!! You haven't responded in your usual time are you busy????? :D"

It didn't take long for the messages to grow more frantic.

"Are you hurt?"

"Do you not like me anymore?"

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry please don't leave me please don't leave me"

You called him as soon as you could and went to his house. Thankfully, his father was out, probably at a bar. As soon as you opened the door, Toby pulled you into his arms, grabbing onto you desperately as he sobbed. You rubbed his back, letting him go until he decided when he had emptied all his tears. You made sure to keep your phone silent at school after that.

Despite his already possessive nature, it took a turn for the worse when unfortunately... His sister died in a car accident. His pathetic father had lived.

You were there for her tiny funeral. And most importantly, you stayed glued to Toby's side the entire time. His tears were gone by the time of the actual funeral, no more to give as he had run dry. Yet, his iron grip on your hand and blank expression told you differently of his grief.

The days after Lyra's death was a flipped switch in Toby's brain.

As you got closer to graduation, Toby was more possessive. He had convinced you to quit your job. You need to focus on your school, right? And help him too, right?

If you somehow was not convinced to stay the night at Toby's house, he'd be on the phone with you until you were almost asleep.

At that point, it felt like your life revolved around Toby. You'd tell him anything... except your college admissions. Telling him you'd be out of arm's reach or heaven forbid meet new people, he'd throw himself into

It did not take long before Toby's sanity had finally left. You were staying over at his house, his drunken father had opened the door in a flood of rage.

"Toby fuckin... Rogers..." He slurred his words. "Did you knock this bitch up? Oh I swear if you, if I have to deal with a mini one of you, I'll fucking kill it... And that bitch!" He rushed forward to grab you and slam you out of the bed.

You did not know how to react, your mouth agape. You did not even interact with Ron before, how was he just now acknowledging you?

Toby had slammed into him first, away from laying his hands on you. He dropped to the floor along with him.

"Don't... Don't you fucking touch her.." He near growled, his brown eyes in a glare. You stared at the scene in front of you, just now pushing out the bed as Toby looked off into the distance, seemingly into nothing.

"Lyra, y-yes, I will protect her..." He said, hands shaking. "I, I'll make father regret k-killing you, too."

He stood up, his father groaning in the background as he gripped your hands. "You'll be with me fo-forever right? Just li-like in the movies we w-watched?"

You didn't know what to do or say besides nod. "Yeah, Toby..." Your eyes couldn't leave his father laying on the ground.

"Leave. Now." Toby ordered. "I have t-to do something for us. For o-our future, tog-together." It didn't take much for you to run out his house, confused and scared.

You were lucky enough to not see the grisly scene. But you were not lucky enough to not see the house light on fire, collapsing onto your knees as the fire rage on in the night sky.

Your friend was missing and you had to continue life as if he wasn't. A few years had passed as you couldn't shake it out your mind. Could you have saved him? Stopped him from killing his family and then himself?

Years and therapy helped lessen the pain, but it didn't for Toby. Even in his service to Slenderman, he couldn't shake you from his head. Slenderman's reward for his loyalty was the reveal of your location.

And that's why you are in his bed. It did not take him long to kidnap you and haul you back. The mansion was nice at least, even for a bunch of serial killers and paranormal creatures. Though the smell of blood nearly never left the halls.

You turned over in the bed as Toby gripped onto you, eyes lost in your own as you continued to think of how you ended up here.

"Th-Thinking..?" He asks as he moves a piece of your hair out your face.

"Yeah.." You mumble out as he holds onto you tighter, pushing him away would only cause him to freak out and worry if you hated him.

"Y-You know, I'm so-so happy you're here." He smiles as he rubs his cheek against you. "All th-those tasks for Slenderman, worth i-it for you..And, I have y-you here as mine."

"I um, I'm glad to have you back too.." You nod at him.

"I th-think, I f-fell in love with you... The f-first time I saw you." He mumbles out, hands shaking in excitement as he holds you closer to him. "And wh-what do y-you know? You're my-my girlfriend now!"

"Funny how life works, hm?" You muse out, looking out the window from your captivity.

"C-Can I have a k-kiss?" He asks. "Y-You don't mind.. the scar-scar right?" He looks down sheepishly. You've learned its better to give him what he wants, then to deal with an episode.

You cup his cheek, slowly pressing your lips over his cold ones. You can feel him smile against yours as he holds your body closer to his.

He'd never truly let you go.

Eyeless Jack:

You never felt alone, not in your apartment. And when you were with other people, you felt as if you were being hunted. It was just near about driving you insane.

Not to mention the fact of your doors opening, floors creaking, window being cracked open, random footprints of shoes. Maybe you really were just going crazy.

It didn't help the fact you'd be missing things either. A random shirt, chapstick, hell, one of your favorite underwear was gone missing.

But even then, as much as you looked around your apartment in fear, deadbolt all your locks, you saw nothing. Even when you'd have a friend stay the night, they would laugh it off and think you were playing a joke on them. They never saw anything either.

Then, it finally began to happen. Crumbs of what you thought your delusion was into reality. A part of you was glad it wasn't you going insane, the other part not quite realizing the nightmare that was about to play out for you.

You had gone out with your friends, a celebration. They had dropped you off at your apartment as you were giggling to yourself the entire ride, tipsy and having a great time.

Yet, you did not go straight to your apartment as the car drove by. You went to the convenience store as your mind swirled with getting snacks and a sweet treat.

It was a dark night, very few people at night and each one keeping to themselves. Your mind was too sloshed to hear the echoing footsteps behind you. Your eyes were too trained at the bright glowing lights of the store as an icee was the only thing circulating your mind.

You were pulled into an alley sharply. An old man in a black balaclava had you pinned with a gun against your head as he demanded everything. Purse, wallet, cash, whatever you had on you. That snapped you of your drunken haze.

Just as you were about to give the man everything as tears were going down your face, the man crumpled to his knees, gun dropping.

Scapels lined his back, each one with the intent on landing on a fatal area. Your mouth was opened, clutching your purse as you stared at the lifeless man before you.

And that's when you first saw him. A tall man in a black hoodie. The only defining trait about him was his dark blue mask... with some kind of substance dropping from under the eyes.

He looked you up and down, head tilting to the side as he walked over the man, pulling out each scapel pulled out from behind his back as he crouched over him. You didn't know why you didn't run, all your senses urged you to run as his eyes - or mask? - never left your form as he pulled out each weapon.

Then, he lifted his mask slightly as he brought the scapel to his mouth, a long black tongue slithering out as he tasted the blood.

That finally got you to move, running out of the alley straight home. Your breath uneasy as all you could think of was your blood being on that scapel instead. You slammed the door shut as you started hysterically telling your friends, your flip-phone shaking in your grasp.

By the time you finally fell asleep, the sun was up. You pulled yourself out of bed as you pushed the door open, half expecting to see the monster there.

What was on the news told you it was not a nightmare. A man named Edwin was found dead in his home by his brother Mitch. His brother was telling the news reporter what he saw the night before he left his brother's house. A man in a blue mask, but they pushed it off as a bad omen before the tragedy stuck. Then, it moved onto the unidentified body found in the alley. You bit on your nails as they revealed the details. He was found disembowled. That... that wasn't right. All that man did was just kill him, right?

You lived the next weeks in terror, over analyzing each step and news story just in case you saw the man again. Just as you felt the horror was finally leaving your senses, your nightmare would appear again.

You fell asleep on the couch, the movie you were watching long forgotten as it bored you to sleep. You awoke, feeling something wet hit your face.

Black eyes were trained over your body, blood slipping down from the mask hitting your face and just as you were about to scream, his cold grey hand held itself over your mouth.

Your hands scrambled to push him off, but he stayed there, silent and watching as you were trying to crawl him off. He put a finger over his mouth, telling you to settle. Stubbornly, you did and he finally retracted his hand.

"Finally, I have you in my reach." He said, voice rough and calloused. You couldn't help but hear the tiny amount of joy in his tone.

"Are... Are you going to kill me? Eat my organs like you did that man?" You said quickly, anger in your words.

He tilted his head before he chuckled. "Kill you? No, no, you're too precious for that... Well, I was going to at first."

You sucked in your breath as the monster laughed again lowly, caressing your cheek. "But, you grew on me. And, I think I'd like you better alive and warm with me then being a cold corpse, though I'd bet your kidneys would taste so sweet.."

You tried pushing him away but he got closer, sitting next to you on the couch as he held you tighter, his grip on your waist unmoving.

"As for eating you? Was my orginal plan, you look like such a sweet thing to devour and so easy, too. Your locks were not hard to pick through." He sighed as his head craned down to your neck. "But, I watched you like a pet. Your habits were endearing, and you looked so lost all the time... Why not take you in for myself?"

"F-Fuck no, I'm not your pet and you're a murderer..." You said, feeling his tongue graze at your neck.

"But I saved you, didn't I?" He murmured, tasting the nervous sweat building against your skin. "You taste so good..."

"And killed others. Fuck, I should call 911 on you..." You said as you felt his tongue gather your sweat.

"I already destroyed your phone. You won't be needing it anytime soon." He said nonchalantly as he pulled back, licking his finger. You couldn't help but notice the sharp teeth lining his mouth.

"Please, please just let me go..." You cry against him. "Or just eat me, kill me, I don't want you to take me."

"Eating you would be the ultimate form of intimacy for us.." He muses. "But, I like you too much to not see you around. Besides, there's... other ways of eating you without killing you." And you could almost hear the smirk in his voice as you glared at him, flustered.

You felt a sharp sting in your hip before seeing him drop a syringe to the floor.

"What... What the hell?" You said as you push away from him, dropping to the ground as your movements grew sluggish.

"Just enough to knock you out. You'd draw too much attention being conscious." He says, standing above you. "Don't worry, you'll wake up somewhere better, with me."

You turn onto your stomach, vision blurring as you clawed on the floor trying to get to the door. You heard him laugh behind you, before you felt his shoe land on your back.

"Just go ahead and give in, surrender yourself." You hear as you feel yourself growing near slumber, your mind numbing until you were out.

He carefully picked you in his arms, it would be a good distance from the forrest to get you out this damned city.

But now that his prey was in his grasp, he didn't mind.

[6eeznut]

WHO DO YOU WANT TO BE THREESOME OR G4NGBANG WITH? (SLASHER & CREEPYPASTA CROSSOVER)

(i'd say eyeless jack & jason voorhees 😩😳)

[scary-lasagna]

Yan!Jeff and reader what would their first encounter be like?

the cliche bedroom window scene AAA I FORGOT TONPOST TODYA IM SORRY

Yan!Jeff

Chances are, he's been stalking you for a few months now.

He knows your schedule down to a pat, and when it may change depending on the day before.

You don't feel the ghost of his breath on your neck while you sleep, nor do you notice the missing clothes replaced by identical pieces.

Jeff has always been smarter than he let on, and now is no exception to that.

He's a criminal mastermind, knowing all of the techniques to keep you at ease while getting what he wants.

You won’t get a choice. He’s locked your bedroom from the outside after slipping in through your front door, that you always foolishly forget to lock until you go to bed.

A simple door block under the frame is perfect for keeping you trapped like a mouse.

And lucky you, the rest of your house is booby trapped!

There’s no escaping <3

Jeff will perch on your bedroom window, allowing the cool breeze to shift you from slumber.

That, and the putrid smell of metal and death drifting off of Jeff and into your room like some sick cologne.

It stores you, and you stare at Jeff’s figure hiding in the moonlight.

“Good morning, lovebird.”

You scream. He waits until you stop screaming.

You bang on your door, and Jeff waits for you to stop.

But instead of unsheathing his knife he approaches you, ignoring your shift in demeanor times and beg for help.

You are grabbed by the sides of your face, and unceremoniously guided to that stuck door, slammed against the painted wood.

“I like you. I love you, I am abso-fucking-lately infatuated with your entire being. I want you to be mine. And I always get what I want.”

From then on, you’ll be held captive in your own home, forced to cooperate with this lovely serial killer until you eventually find a way to escape.

It’s just hard to walk. from how many times he’s carved his name into your body.