#marble hornets fanfic

[squarebracketsmileyface]

if it's not too much trouble, can we get a lil sneaky peek of what Jesse looks like in art form? we have a 'preview' of Birdie, so i'm keen to see our darling lil guy (again, only if you want to/it's not a particularly time-consuming task) aaaa

YOU CAN INDEED (featuring a whole new art style I accidentally absorbed. I fucking created it for Soap in my COD fic so I could draw things as him, and now it's just my fucking art style kill me)

Also closeups under the thingy because I wanna talk about this art and some general lil headcanon bits more, it took me 9 and a half hours to finish this and I genuinely love it so much. I loved the entire process.

This drawing made me love Jesse as much as I love Birdie now, I think. I'm such a visual person and without a visual on Jesse I liked him conceptually but I didn't really care about him like I do Birdie. Now I love him. I adore him. He's so small and so round and look at him standing on his bubba's knees like a big boy, Brian's barely holding him up at all, really, he's definitely doing it allllllll by himself :D

SO

Brian has rainbow spoke covers on his chair, because he works with young kids, of course he's gonna make his chair fun. I also like to think that he lets them put stickers on the outsides of his mud guards too. Also the fun yellow pushrim covers and wheelchair frame

Jesse has a lazy eye :D (featuring his exceptionally circular face and silly surprised baby eyebrows)

Brian's chipped nail polish. He teaches kids sport for a living, especially climbing, of course his nail polish is going to be super chipped all the time. He's a dad too, so he doesn't have a huge amount of time to do his nails every time they start chipping. (Also the wedding band :] )

Birdie's drawing again, because it's still so fucking cute to me. With Jesse at like very little baby age in this drawing, Birdie would be somewhere around 13 I think? So just getting into "Daaaaaaad you're embarrassing meeeeeee!" era with that doodle

The family photos on the wall, including Lark! :D

Also, finally, the wrinkles on Brian's face :D he's a guy in his fourties who spent at LEAST like five years solid living through hell in the woods (I like to think it was longer than that, like, when Alex 'killed him' was when he started living as hoodie in the woods, so honestly probably a good bit longer than just the five years of documented MH that we got), and then once that was over, he had to learn to live with the stress of a spinal cord injury while also dealing with the survivors guilt of losing the only people he knew still on the same day as he lost the use of his legs.

Also a broken nose that never got put right before it healed, because with him fighting Alex all those times, there's no way he didn't come out without at least one broken nose.

And, of course, his silly cowboy mustache (he gives Jesse horsey rides on his wheelchair and Jesse wears a cowboy hat which is FAR too big for him. It's the cutest thing Tim and Lark have ever seen)

[koibitogata]

frustration and anger.

creepypasta/mh x reader in which they get frustrated or angry, or, in BEN's case, are frustrating themselves. word count: 2.1k cw: abuse, descriptions of anger, arguments/quarrelling.

EJ

EJ doesn’t often get angry.

in fact, it’s hard to even frustrate him. Even when faced with particularly difficult patients to suture up—ahem, Jeff— he shows no sign of being fazed.

well, perhaps that’s because he’s used to living with Jeff and his reckless, barbaric antics.

but when he does get frustrated, it’s like a gradual intensification.

you like to split his frustration into three phases.

phase 1: EJ starts to seem a little off. Quieter than usual, less responsive, and more distant. Almost as if he’s in his own world, deceptively peaceful.

phase 2: EJ starts to show actual signs of being frustrated. You notice that it is at this point he may start to snap lightly at others, but with you, he tries his best to keep it to a minimum.

phase 3 is the climax before the drop. On occasion, he may raise his voice slightly and openly express irritation. But he always drops, hard and fast.

“I am so sorry, Y/N, I am so sorry,” he whispers, rubbing circles gently on your back. Though he has to bend over quite a bit (he’s a gentle giant at a height of 6’6 or about 2 meters), you find it to be very soothing that his frame envelops the entirety of yours.

oh, but that doesn’t mean he’s incapable of getting angry.

no, the anger you heard in his voice was undeniable as he roared at another member of the household to stay the fuck away from you.

you’d startled at the sheer sound of it, and quickly those trembles descended into violent shaking as you cried—his roar was simply not…human.

you flinched as he picked you up, just as gently as was the anger intense in that dreaded noise he made, a stark contrast in behavior, a jarring change in your body, mind and soul.

but other than that, you knew your darling EJ was back.

he plopped you onto his bed, surrounded by his sweet yet musky scent, nuzzling your neck and your face.

“I’m sorry”s were whispered countless times in your ear that night as you dozed off in the safety of his arms.

jeff

gotta put a trigger warning on this one. you know what to expect, but just in case you don’t, TW: Jeff is literally a murderer with abusive tendencies and anger issues.

at the start of your relationship, Jeff had been…well, to say the least, not the best partner.

he often got mad at you, whether it be keeping him waiting or spilling a cup of water.

yeah. spilling a cup of water.

but you understood why he was the way he was. he just couldn’t help it. but that didn’t mean you were going to stick around for it, no matter how much you loved him.

one day after a particularly huge argument, you found him crying in his room. his sniffles were unmistakable, but you knew you’d have to pretend you hadn’t heard from ten feet away.

turns out, angsty little Jeff here wasn’t completely unaware of himself.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he had sobbed as quietly as he could. “I know I’m a bad boyfriend, I know, I keep lashing out at you and I’m so sorry.”

your relationship could have very well ended that day if you hadn’t found Jeff crying on the floor.

but even though he’d hurt you so many times, you took him back into your arms.

and so you taught him to manage his anger, though it took you immense effort, energy and bravery.

he’d always help, though, by reminding you it was okay to yell back at him. you chided him lightly for it, saying that it’d just cause a back and forth.

“oh, right. my bad. sorry, doll,” he had said with a sheepish grin.

today, you are proud to boast that you trained your bloodhound boyfriend to be a tame dog. hell, he even does whatever you tell him to now, albeit sometimes reluctantly.

but he understands that if he loves you, he must make sacrifices upon sacrifices. you did that for him.

now it is his turn to sacrifice himself for you.

masky - tim

it’s not really uncommon that Tim gets angry.

but his anger is almost always the quiet kind.

he will “hmph” and huff lightly, a mild kind of anger you both can still joke about, though his face will redden at it.

you can’t help it though, the sass he gives you when he’s lightly frustrated is too good to let slip past.

oh, but when his anger gets loud—

it’s no longer a harmless little nip.

it’s been directed everywhere. everywhere, his teammates, the table, the card game he’s losing a bit too embarrassingly to Toby who’s being an unbearable little ass about it.

but never you.

okay, it was one time.

but Tim decided it was one time too many. (as he should)

he’d raised his voice at you, more so out of frustration rather than anger.

and you flinched.

and oh, how that little flinch broke his heart.

he shut up immediately, gathering you into his arms, whispering “oh, I’m so sorry, darling”, and “you’re okay, you’re okay”.

he never did it again. ever.

now, when you both get angry at each other, it always devolves into stupid little giggles and kicking.

hoodie - brian

Brian doesn’t really get angry, nor does he get frustrated.

normally, at least.

something shines in his eyes when he is defied, a shadow of a grin, a curl of the lip—

you spend a couple days investigating this, defying him little by little.

“Y/N, could you pass me the water?” “No.” and you’d say it with a cheeky smile on your face to match this strange expression on his.

it evolved into much greater things, “Y/N, come over here for a bit.” “Nope!”

“Y/N, help me up.” “Nope!”

your gleeful defiance doesn’t have a complete zero effect, either. with each silly little “nope”, the glint in his eyes grows brighter. and you know that the cup you’ve slowly been filling the past few days is about to overflow.

it’s one fateful day that you happily defy him once again, and—

oh. something’s grabbing at your jaw, and your lover’s face is so close to yours.

he smiles so gently at you, so purely. but his grip on your jaw says otherwise.

firm like iron, reprimanding, but not harmful or venomous. you know he isn’t going to hurt you, but oh, he isn’t letting you go either.

“Y/N,” he says calmly. “You’ve been a little more uncooperative than usual.”

the shiver it sends down your spine isn’t one of fear. excitement, rather.

he lets you go, but guides you to the bed. “Sit,” he commands.

so you do. what else are you to do when your lover commands you so well?

“Good girl.”

so you never say no to him again, not when it comes to harmless favors.

Brian does not get angry or frustrated…at least, not like the normal person does.

toby

Toby becomes a very bitter cynic when upset, spitting sarcasm wherever he goes.

his BPD only makes it worse. his relationship with Tim is already strained as it is, with the latter trying his best (as much as a man with anger issues can), and his relationship with Brian being almost entirely carried by the older man.

and his relationship with you, oh his sweet vogel, his darling dove— he doesn’t know what to think of it. some days he lets loose around you, tickling you and blowing raspberries against your cheeks, and others he’s withdrawn, curled up into a ball in his bed, and so you dive in with him, nuzzling him against his sheets long overdue for a change.

but if it’s neither of those, he’s lashing out. sometimes you can’t even look at him when he walks into the room bringing dark clouds over the atmosphere. that’s when you know you can’t look up at him.

and when you make the mistake of looking up, your smile meets a scowl.

“what are you looking at.” he’ll spit, and then storm off, as if he can’t stand your eyes on him.

and it’s true, your eyes gaze at him with such gentleness, he can’t bring himself to stare back sometimes. especially when he’s in a bad mood, because he breaks inside as he sees his own eyes burn the love in your eyes, reducing them to ashes of fear.

“vogel,” he’d whisper at night, lying next to you in your bed. “i’m sorry.”

he apologizes so much and so often you no longer make a big deal out of it, but this time, his soft whisper is laced with such heavy guilt, your arms move before your mind thinks, pulling him into a soft embrace.

oh, but this bad mood is nothing compared to his jealousy.

Jeff gets close to you? Jeff is suddenly on the ground, blood leaking from his head and EJ hurriedly dragging the former away, admonishing him about not messing with Toby’s precious human.

Tim comforts you about Toby’s outbursts? suddenly he’s against the wall, Toby growling and spitting in his face. if he can’t be there for you, then no one else gets to be there for you either. though, he knows this is selfish.

if he could help it, he’d let you go to whomever you wanted for comfort. but oh, his heart aches so.

and his jealousy is nothing compared to how angry he gets at himself, bashing the walls of the manor, crying out at night, because he can’t be there for you like a normal boyfriend.

he doesn’t know this, but you’re in a corner too, muffled sobs, tears, nose dripping and all.

so at night, you crawl back into bed before he notices you, and lie awake till he comes back.

as his breathing settles and his snoring begins, you hug him just a little bit tighter, your sweet vogel with broken wings.

ben

you have to admit, BEN is really, really freaky.

in the way he plays his games, the way he treats his archnemesis Jeff, in bed—oops.

but particularly, in the way he seems to have an endless tolerance for things that would usually upset someone.

he just. fucking giggles.

“aww, my sweet Y/N is so cute when she’s mad~”

context: he pissed you off and you’re currently in the middle of admonishing him with your whole heart and soul.

conversely, you’re the one who gets mad right back at him.

within the hour, he presents you with a tiktok with two cats that says: me when i’m venting and all my bf does is make jokes

he cackles to the ends of the earth and proceeds to make even more jokes

frankly, when the topic of frustration comes up with BEN’s name in the same sentence, you pretty much just think of him being the frustrating asshole in the relationship.

“BEN, give me my fucking phone back.”

he’s dangling it over your head, using the fact that he’s a floating apparition that can somehow interact with physical objects to his advantage.

once, you got so frustrated at him that you cried.

thankfully, he had the decency to pause, panic, and reflect on his actions.

“oh.” five seconds passed and your crying didn’t get better (what did he expect?). he repeated himself. “oh.”

“actually say something, you idiot!” you sobbed. and this is what snapped BEN into action. (you can’t believe you actually had to tell him to comfort you.)

“oh.” then he realized he’d just been saying “oh” like a broken record. “um.”

so he wraps you up in a blanket like a burrito, and holds you close to his chest.

“i’m sorry.”

“promise not to do it again?” you look up at him with your best puppy eyes.

“…i can’t promise.” you can tell he’s holding back a cheeky grin.

you whine and hit him lightly.

but you know very well that he loves you; this frustration merely comes with him as a package.

[toolobster4u]

Marble Hornets should have had it’s own anime beach episode halfway through

[limeartichoke]

new brim fic i wrote you guys should go check it out...

the tl;dr of it is tim hates himself and thinks Brian won't like him, but he is wrong and they kiss. also Tim's internal monologue is very, very horny

[ticcitobys4286thlover]

tw: orgasm denial, teasing, thigh riding

edit: going back, i realized i never really credited @rainrot4me for this idea, so i dont want to make it seem like i copied their idea and went with it.

Hoodie was the listener, and you were always the talker, it was simple. It never bothered him, he just found it cute how you get really happy just talking about your day or what you saw.

Now that you're naked, rutting your pussy on his thigh trying to reach that certain spot,�� he couldn't help but want to talk to you more.

“You know, I really wanna hear about your day.” he says, bucking his leg upwards causing you to let out a small whimper. But you couldn't respond, you were too drunk on pleasure that all you could respond was with your moans.

“I'm talkin’ to you love, or are you not gonna tell me about your day?” he says with a shit eating grin. 

“But I-but I did! I *ngh* swear I did!”

“But I don't seem to remember, you sure you did Hun?” this time however, he reached down low with his right hand and started doing little sloppy circles around your clit, teasing you even more.

A mix between a yes and a moan was what came out of your mouth. But he wanted more, he couldn't just let you have what you wanted without having what he wanted.

You started rutting your cunt even more on his thigh, like you were desperately trying to reach something, and he fully caught onto that. He grabbed you by your waist, lifting you up from his thigh making you whimper at the feeling.

“I was almost there! Just let me–just let me cum, please!” tears from the recent moment started appearing,

“C'mon pretty, just tell me one simple thing you did today, and I'll let you cum, simple.” he says, doing little circles on the sides of your waist.

“I went to the–to the park...” you said, trying your best to form a sentence.

“And what’d you see?” he said back, tossing his head to the side.

“Something abandoned, but I can't, I can't remember.” you said, looking back at him, giving him pleading eyes. “Can I just please please, please, just–!” and before you could even continue, he pulled you back down, this time moving you himself, not loosening his grip.

He was going at a way faster pace than you were, your puffy clit rubbing against the material of his rough jeans, but by then, you couldn't even feel the way it felt, you were too focused on finding that high again.

Finally, when you did, you came right on the spot, rolling your eyes back while grabbing the soft fabric of his hoodie.

“That sounded fun.” he said, placing a kiss against your forehead.

[snowaftermidnight]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Marble Hornets Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jay Merrick/Timothy "Tim" Wright | Masky Characters: Jay Merrick, Timothy "Tim" Wright | Masky Additional Tags: takes place during motel hopping era, There Was Only One Bed, Title from a PTV song, tim thinks it's unrequited, jay is not aware he likes tim yet, theyre both so awkward about it, no beta we die like literally everyone in the cast Summary:

For once, the nicer option is also the cheaper option. Jay assumes it won’t feel any different from normal to share a bed in a hotel room. He realizes a bit too late that he is wrong.

---

finally posting a chapter of this wip ive had for months! hope u enjoy :3

[sadgurl805]

syg fanart of alexis and her tits cuz i’m constantly re-reading the story tehehe

p.s: for @itsabee and @13tinysocks :)!!

[your-oddities]

╭─────────.★..─╮

Backseat

╰─..★.─────────╯

Cautions: None besides fluff!

Word count: ~1.3k

•——•——•——•——•——•——•——•

You press your foot on the gas nearly as hard as you’re able to. Sounds of the car protesting loudly grow by the second, though the vehicle won’t budge. You can almost hear grunting coming from behind the car, just barely audible over the engine’s roar. Several seconds pass and, deciding it’s not doing either of you any favors, you take your foot off the gas. You stick your head out the open window and look to the back of the car.

“Is it working?” You shout, trying to look around the trunk. All he responds with is a groan before you watch as he comes around to the driver’s side.

The bottom of Tim’s jeans and every inch of his shoes are practically caked in mud, his shirt also somehow getting dirtied up by the sludge. He trudges to the driver’s side, shaking his head. “Nah. Wheel keeps on spinnin’ but it won’t move.” When you lean back into the car, he rests his elbow on the open window.

This couldn’t have possibly come at a worse time. You two were taking the backroads home after a tiring day. It’s been all too long since you two have been home, your bed ready to replace the nights spent snoozing in the passenger seat. But things turned for the worse when a deer came from the darkness of the woods and darted in front of the car. Tim successfully steered out of the way, though also managing to drive into a large patch of mud on the side of the road. And now, after a few minutes of trying to force the truck out of its spot, the both of you silently agree it’s time to throw in the towel.

Silent seconds pass, the conversation lulling. Not a car passes by, not a helping hand. So, not sure what to do, you turn to Tim. "Now what?" He keeps on looking down the endless road, and it seems as though he hadn't even heard you. But he finally answers with a sniffle and a simple shrug of his shoulders.

"Dunno." Tim replies before looking back to you. "Text Brian and hope he's awake, I guess." He wipes his muddy hands on his already dirtied shirt, fishing his phone out of his pocket. You watch while he taps away at the screen.

“Hope? So we just, what? Wait here if he isn’t up?” Staying yet another night in this old, beat up truck is less than ideal. But you don’t have the money for a night in a motel, much less the energy to walk to one. So, before he even answered, you knew what the response would be.

He looks up from his phone and purses his lips a bit. “I mean, what else are we gonna do? We don’t got many options here.” He slips his phone back into his pocket and takes his elbow off the car. He quickly climbs into the back of the truck and slips off his grimy shoes. You lean heavily against the back of the seat with a weighted sigh escaping you. Out of the corner of your eye Tim’s hand snatches his pack of cigarettes from the center console, and mere seconds later the smell of nicotine and smoke fills your nostrils.

Silence takes over in the absence of conversation. Inevitably, you’ll have to fall asleep in here. And, inevitably, you’ll wake up with every part of your body hurting in some way or another from staying in the same position all night. You take a glance in the rear view mirror towards the man behind you. He looks to be even more tired than you are. His eyes are almost fighting to stay open, a cigarette hanging from his lips. His eyes meet yours in the rear view mirror, yours swiftly looking elsewhere.

You curse mentally as he speaks up. “You cold?” He asks, honestly sounding bored. You’re almost confused by the question before your upper body shakes as a shiver runs through you. You hadn’t paid much mind to the cold. The heater doesn’t work well, so you two have been dealing with the chilly temperature for nearly the whole ride. You suppose you’ve gotten used to it.

“Oh. Uh, yeah. Kind of.” The words sound awkward coming out of your mouth. There’s no apparent reason behind it. At least, not that you can think of. “But I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

Looking back to the mirror, it’s obvious your words did little to nothing in convincing Tim, eyes fixed on you. But he doesn’t call you out on it. Rather, he scoots over a smidge and gestures with his head as a sort of ‘come on’ motion.

The smiling tugging at your lips is involuntary. You’re not even sure why he’s inviting you back there, but you can’t help feeling pleased nonetheless. Now hopping out of the driver’s seat, you climb into the backseat with Tim. His muddy shoes sit in the open spot for your feet, so you opt for a criss-cross position on the seat. “Sorry about the shoes.” He apologizes sincerely.

You merely shrug. “Don’t worry about it.” You shut the door behind you before looking back to Tim once more. Now, instead of an almost unreadable expression on his face, he’s simply smiling as he looks to you. His hands rest on his legs, the cigarette lazily held between two fingers. If there was just one contagious grin in the world, his would be it.

With his free arm, he opens it up to you. The wave of his hand only further solidifies what he’s wanting you to do. You’re cautious, of course. He’s never been one for physical contact. You lost track of the amount of times your arm or hand brushed against his accidentally and he immediately steps back or puts his hand in his pocket. But this, this is a warm welcome in contrast to the closed off demeanor he has every day.

Hesitantly, you nudge closer to him. He doesn’t rush you. Instead his eyes follow your movements as you edge closer towards his open embrace. Once you’re close enough, he places his hand on your shoulder and squeezes you into a surprisingly comfortable position. Your body is stiff at first, of course. You’ve never been in this sort of situation with him, much less one where you could touch him at all.

His hand rubs up and down your arm slowly. That alone serves to calm you. Your muscles relax and a deep breath escapes you as you realize that you’re gonna be here for a while. You almost immediately rest your head on his shoulder. A quiet laugh shakes Tim a little and he holds you closer.

He brings the cigarette up to his lips, taking a long, slow drag. The tip burns red until he finally breaks away a few seconds later. Smoke leaves his parted lips and his eyes shut. When he opens them again, he looks down to you. “Want it?” He holds the cigarette towards you as an offer. “Might help you feel warmer.”

You’ve smoked before, and so it’s not like this is far too new for you. Wordlessly, you grab the cigarette from between his fingers and bring it to your mouth. Breathing in deeply, eyes shut. Reluctantly, you pull it away and breathe out. Grey smoke leaves your lungs and your eyes open again. Glancing back to Tim, you hold the cigarette out for him to take. But he shakes his head. “I’m good. You can finish it.”

You’re unsure of what this change in his personality is due to, but it’s surely welcome. You lean against him heavily and his arm tightens around you. You take another drawn out drag from his cigarette, eyes shutting. His head rests against yours as a heavy sigh leaves him.

The night felt a little warmer after that.

• . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . •

Thanks for reading !! Reblogs appreciated ヾ(^_^)

probably not gonna post for another month … el oh el … so happy holidays ! ♡

[dollhouse-lied]

Using you: a masky x reader smut fic

WARNING: THIS IS A NONCON FIC. AKA RAPE. Also theres a gun. DD-DNE

No reader gender specified!!

Warnings: guns, bondage, rape (duh), anal, blood, no reader orgasm

Enjoy~

You ran through the abandoned hospital, the cluncking of your shoes on concrete echoing through the halls. You kept glancing behind you, the cold air stinging your lungs as you stumbled to duck behind a vending machine. You clasped a hand over your mouth to muffle your panting as you listened for any footsteps. Your eyes darted from opening to opening, looking frantically for the masked killer as you huddled below the half wall and the vending machine.

You heard nothing. It was like he had never been there. You tilted your head back, the sound of your skull hitting the machine echoing way louder than you expected. In the cold night, all noises could give you away, so you recoiled against it and peered around the corner of the large metal box.

*click*

You froze at the guns metal barrel against your head from over the half wall, a nauseous feeling rising in your throat. You slowly turned to face him, the moon illuminating his masked face.

“Youre going to do exactly what i say if you want to live, got it?” He thundered, walking around the wall. You nodded, squeaking out a soft “yes” as you shook. He kept the gun on you as he reached for a rope wrapped around his belt. “On your stomach. Now.”

You obeyed, tears rising in your eyes as you realized what was happening.

“Please just let me go, i have a family, i-”

“Everyone does, your not special,” he dismissed, dropping to one knee and wrapping the rope around your throat. “Do yourself a favor and shut up before i actually get mad,”

You shook, quietly sobbing as he used the same rope from your neck to tie your hands together. He tied the knot tightly, just enough to allow you to breathe. He lifted your ass into the air, a loud sob escaping your throat involuntarily. He struck your ass as hard as he could, with it echoing through the abandoned rubble. He yanked on the rope so it constricted around your neck, your head lifting and thudding against the floor from the force of it.

You felt the wind on your underwear as he pulled down your pants. There was a small zipper noise, and the sound of spitting on his hand. “Youve made a pretty little mess for yourself, havent you?” He chuckled, nails digging into your thighs as he aligned himself.

“Why? Why me?” You sobbed, feeling the concrete rip your jeans as he pulled you closer to him.

“You think people find this place often? Id do the same to anyone else here sweetheart, your not special,” he said coldly, quickly inserting himself with a scream from you.

“Fuck- fuck- no no no no no-” you cried, face scraping on the floor with the force of his fucking.

“I think you should thank me,” he mocked.

“Go to hell,” you snapped. You felt the gun pressed to the side of your head.

“Your lucky im not killing you, right sweetheart? Thank me.” He commanded, groaning in pleasure at your fearful cries.

“Th- thank you, thank you, please dont kill me, please sir,” you cried, horrified by the moan he let out.

“Sir huh? You think that highly of me?” He grabbed onto your hips and thrusted as hard as he could into you. You screamed, the white hot pain your ass was in was all you could focus on. “I love you too baby,” he grabbed your hair and sharply pulled your head up. “Say you love me,”

This time, you stayed quiet, starting to get overwhelmed by the pain your body was in. He noticed and quickly fired the gun in the air. “Say. You love. Me.” He growled, grabbing your hair again as you shook.

“I love you! I love you! Oh my god this cant be happening, oh my god!” You screamed, violently shaking with the force of your sobs.

He pressed the red hot tip of the gun to your temple, burning your skin. He pulled up your torso and wrapped a gloved hand around your mouth to muffle your cries.

“Shut the fuck up, your giving- ah- giving me an earache,” he groaned, thrusts quickly becoming rougher and sloppier. “Say “im cumming sir,” say “im masters good little whore,” say it now,” he growled into your ear, his hand around your mouth moving to your throat.

“Im cumming, im masters good whore, please let me go,”

He slapped you across the jaw, roughly grabbing it right after. “Again with out the little pity party at the end,” he huffed into your shoulder, struggling to keep himself under control.

“Im cumming sir, im masters good whore,” you cried, feeling his body shudder as he released into you and pushed you into the ground. Your jaw hit first, making a sharp crunching noise as your teeth slammed against pavement. He quickly collected himself, standing up as you rolled onto your back to attempt to flee. You froze as he pointed the gun at you, still rezipping his pants.

“Hey, did i say you could leave?” He growled, pulling the trigger with a loud bang and searing pain in your knee, followed by another of the same in your other knee.

You screamed as he walked away, leaving you with your jeans and underwear around your ankles, screaming and cold.

It wouldve been more merciful to kill you.

[studentfilmyoulying]

Sad Sethlex

Ship: Seth Wilson x Alex Kralie (but like barely)

Word count: 378

Triggers: blood, guns, character death, angst

—————————————————————————

His vision was blurry at first, like when you first wake up, and when it cleared Alex prayed this was a dream. He knew though that not even his worst nightmares compared to this. Looking down, he saw a gun in his hand and he dropped it as if scalded. Alex stared at it on the ground, refusing to look at the other thing. The other person.

Then his brain kicked in though, and he realized there could be a chance to save him. The second the thought crosses his mind, Alex jerks into motion, his knees slamming hard on the dirty concrete in front of him. He quickly feels for a heartbeat and is met with a dull, barely there, pulse. His mind scrambles to remember any first-aid tips. Stop the bleeding. Right. He tears off a clean piece of his friend's white shirt and holds it to the wound. In a matter of seconds, the scrap is soaked though, it's a losing battle and he knows it.

Alex doesn't care at this point if he gets blood on him and reaches out to his friend — his last friend. The body is light and easily moves onto Alex's lap. He cradles the dying boy as the tears start to fall. "What have I done?" He thinks aloud.

"Seth...Seth, you're fine, it's going to be fine I promise. I got you, it's okay. We'll get out of this together. I've been planning for us to get out of this together. Seth please....please you have to be okay," his pleading is broken up by the sobs wracking his body, "I can't do this without you. I need you, Seth. Please...I love you."

His vision is going blurry again, and Alex is unsure at first if it's the tears or if he's losing consciousness. The roaring in his ears makes him believe it's the latter though. It's that thing.

"No! You can't have him, I gave you the others, I was supposed to keep this one. You can't have Seth. Please." Alex begs, but his vision is only getting worse, he can't feel his arms to tell if Seth is even still there or not. He chokes back a scream of frustration as he blacks out again.

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Do you like this? Or have fanfic ideas but you aren't good at writing? Something in particular you want to see but can't find anywhere? Give me a follow and send an ask and I'd be happy to write it! 🙂

[mossyficnerd]

His Prey His Love | Vampire!Alex

Jaylex | tw blood + gøre + violence| 17+ | 2k+

This is based off something my friend @entry-85 wrote, thank you for the inspo !

Ø

The blood in every person was different, Alex hadn't seemed to care when he'd first been. . . Changed. It was just what he needed, sustenance to tie him over till his next fix.

Every feed was agonizing, sudden, unplanned. When the hunger that thing put in him took over, he couldn't control it, when he felt it coming it was already too late. The first time, it was a girl he'd been studying with in his apartment.

All the noises had been too much. He didn't know what was wrong as his breathing shallowed. He could hear her blood coursing through her body, taste her perfume on the air like salt, and see every dilation of her eyes even while trying to look at his paper. When the woman had leaned closer, pushing her body into his and leaning her head back to show her chest more, he snapped. One misunderstanding about Alex's intentions from that woman had revealed what that thing had put inside him.

He remembers the terrible cracking sound her thin neck had made, the guttural sound of ripping her throat and the thick sweet taste of her blood on his cat-like tongue. He remembers the rush of feeling, the release of all the building anxiety and anger, the perfect feeling of being full.

He also remembers waking up to her head sitting on his dining room table, and her body precariously set back on its chair. Alex didn't remember setting her up like that, he doesn't even remember going to bed. He let the panic set in then, the crying and the screaming fell from him like a waterfall. He didn't know why he'd done it at the time. He didn't know the thing had infected him.

Alex spent all day cleaning it up, blending the body in a fucking food processor because he didn't know what else to do. Crying over the stain on his dining room table and hitting his head against the shower wall when he finally got to cleaning himself.

The next time, it was something of the same. Someone got too close, and the thing took over. And the next morning there was a body. He learned that they all tasted different, though, and they all smelt like they tasted. Some sweet, and some bitter. The taste was the only good part usually.

Alex grew numb to it. He slowly learned he could control it, though. Instead of it happening suddenly and ruining his furniture, he'd lure an unsuspecting person, a classmate, a random person at a bar, grindr date, out to the woods. Once he got them there, it was easy, whether he got them there through making out or well placed threats they normally caved, and he got a hot meal. 

This went on for months, months of burning clothes and burying bodies before anything happened. Before anyone close to him got… too close.

When his hunger got too much around those close people he started leaving, claiming he felt sick. He'd run out during filming with Tim and Brian, yell at Jay to fuck off and slam the door before scrolling grindr for his next meal. Everytime he felt awful for Jay, he didn't really care about upsetting Brian, and he didn't give two fucks about Tim. But fucking Jay, he hated doing that to Jay.

Jay had been his friend since high school, and keeping Jay out of his life wasn't going to work. He relearns this now, hearing Jay pound on his door.

“Open up Alex!” The pounding rang through the man's skull and he couldn’t block out the noise. His reddened eyes closed tight as the banging continued. Alex knew Jay, knew that this had been his breaking point. The fifth time Alex had canceled plans ten minutes before Jay was supposed to get there. He hadn't seen Jay face to face in two weeks.

“Alex! I'm serious.” His voice got quieter, and had Alex's hearing been normal he wouldn't have heard the whisper. “Please, I'm so worried.” He wanted to cry, he knew why Jay was so worried. He knew all of his bad habits from high school and probably thought he was on something or hurting himself or something- god he didn't want Jay hurt again. 

Reluctantly, Alex crawled out of bed, down his loft, and slowly pulled his door open. Jay didn't wait, pushing it open and slamming it shut behind him. His usually soft eyes were alight with worry, and Alex was hit with his smell first. He smelt divine, and Alex felt disgusting just thinking that. He heard the blood pumping through his body next, thrumming along his veins and the oxygen moving in it. He could hear Jay blinking, see the sweat pushing out of his pores, and the way his eyes weren't all green, the specks of different brown hues.

Jay was talking, but it was drowned out by the sound of his blood, Alex could basically see it moving through Jay's body. He could see the biggest supply areas and the thinnest skin. Alex didn't realize when he'd pinned Jay to the wall, his wrists so weak in Alex's grip he couldn’t even tell that Jay was struggling.

Jay's legs were kicking out against him, cries falling on deaf ears as Alex watched him for a second. Jay's body twisted violently in Alex's grip, his Eyes brimming with tears before Alex loosened on his wrists. The man looked up at Alex with hope, and he forced himself to listen to Jay. “What are you on, Alex? I can help you, what's going on?”

His words faded away again and his blood resounded in Alex's ears. Leaning forward slowly, his scratchy cat tongue licked over the soft thin skin of Jay's neck. The thing in Alex loved how his prey froze up, his sharp fangs pushing through his gums as he hovered over Jay's neck. Each labored breath Jay made had Alex more excited, teeth digging into the first layer of his skin.

Before he could pierce Jay's flesh, before blood could hit his tongue, he snapped out of it. He let go of Jay and scrambled back, falling over himself onto the floor and watching as Jay stood at the wall. Jay seemed frozen in place, his arms the only thing that moved as they fell limply at his sides. His thin wrists were blooming bruises, eyes wide with confusion and fear, his heart pumping fast. Alex covered his ears, feeling his sharp nails dig into his scalp to keep him centered. 

Maybe he was talking, maybe the no no and run! Jay run! Were not just in his head because Jay's face changed, the fear morphing into concern, his heart pumping slower slower. Alex felt his teeth aching, never before had he denied himself when so close. Never had he pulled himself away when the most perfect food was right in front of him. Somehow, he knew Jay would be delicious, and it sickened him to think that.

“Alex?” Jay slowly dropped to his knees to be level with Alex . He reeled back, trying not to smell Jay as he pushed forward. His hands found Alex's knees and used them to push himself forward, his hand moving to touch Alex's face, showing his bruised wrist, broken blood vessels wafting themselves into Alex's nose. His eyes shifted, maybe to pinpricks, and he's sure Jay could see the thing in him now. Even so, he pushed closer, pushing Alex's knees apart and putting the man's head in his neck again.

“Is this what you need? Do- do you need to bite me?” His voice wavered, and his throat got tight. Alex could taste the anxiety in the man's scent, it was weirdly intoxicating. When Alex's hand was in Jay's hair, the thing wasn't taking over. It was Alex, understanding he had to be careful if he did this.

Jay shouldn't be doing this. He shouldn't be ready to offer his body so readily to Alex, but there he was. Alex couldn't hold back anymore, tilting Jay's head back and letting himself lick over his neck to taste it. His teeth ached in his mouth worse than they ever had, like breaking through Jay's flesh was the only thing that could save him from the pain. 

As his teeth broke the thin skin of the other's neck, Jay's body went limp against him. The blood coated Alex's tongue, weirdly sweet, and he barely kept himself from ripping into him. He wanted Jay to keep his head. He wanted Jay to survive this. Alex latched his lips over the bite and sucked, letting the blood work itself out of Jay's body. Whatever he had done had the blood flowing easily, though, spilling into his mouth and down his throat. It cooled the burn and made all the painful noises disappear. Just him and Jay existed now as he drank the others' hot blood.

When he detached from Jay, when he looked down in fear, fear he'd killed the man, he saw his eyes first. Lidded eyes, mouth hung open softly and his form unmoving. He was breathing softly, the only indication he'd survived the ordeal, and Alex pulled him close, holding back the scream he felt gurgling up in his throat.

What did he do? He'd never kept someone alive while feeding, why wasn't Jay moving, why did he look so gone? Alex pushed his hands through Jay's hair and started rocking with him, all the desperate hunger gone, leaving a gaping wound in Alex's heart. He almost killed Jay. Hell if Jay doesn't come out of this, he did kill jay.

“Jay? I'm sorry, I'm so sorry please come back, I don't want you to die.” His tears broke the dam and fell, cascading down his cheeks as he cradled Jay. For near an hour they laid like that and Alex mourned his friend, knowing he'd be the one to bury him, and knowing his other friends would search. He grieved the loss of the only person that had ever understood him. Then, somewhere past the hour mark, Jay's breathing got deeper, and he began to shift in Alex's grip. 

The first noise he made was a quiet groan, his eyes lidding heavier but he grabbed onto Alex. He seemed weak and tired but he was alive. Alex held him close and cried harder, air he didn't really need choking in his lungs. Jay clung close to Alex, slowly beginning to shake as his body became his again. Alex could smell it, feel it, fear and adrenaline running through Jay, some strange sense of euphoria accompanied it as Jay's breathing became labored. 

He tucked himself into Alex's neck and tugged on the man's hoodie, shivering now. “Ss cold…” Alex didn't hesitate to pull off the thick hoodie and wrap it around Jay, holding the pale man close. 

“Fuck I'm sorry, are you okay?” His hands cradled Jay's neck, seeing the mark had quickly scarred over. Alex didn't know why, but given he'd killed every other person unlucky enough to be a meal, he wouldn't have noticed it either way. Jay weakly nodded his head, clinging closer to Alex. 

“It's so cold…” His skin was pale and he looked ready to faint, all of the post bite shock and the loss of blood only now hitting him. Alex wasn't sure what to do, pulling Jay into his arms and hurrying to the kitchenette in his apartment. He began pulling out his definitely unhealthy snacks and pushing a few chips to Jay's lips.

“Eat, you lost a lot of blood.” Jay's mouth barely opened as Alex tried to force feed him salty chips, chewing all too slow for Alex's liking. “Fuck fuck please be okay.” Alex wasn't talking to Jay anymore, cursing at himself as Jay seemed happy to slowly chew on the few chips Alex got him to accept.

“I'm okay, Alex.” His voice was clearer, seemingly coming back to himself as Alex mumbled something about Brian killing him. Jay's hand brushed Alex's face, trying to ignore the bright purple bruises from the surprisingly stronger man. Alex held his hand to his face, looking deep in thought.

“I'm sorry for hurting you Jay, I'll get myself under better control-” he was hushed, Jay's forehead coming up to touch his.

“It's okay, you can do that whenever you-”

“Jay what the fuck are you talking about?!” The concern morphed in anger, pulling back and looking at Jay like he was stupid. “I almost fucking killed you?! Do you fucking know that?! Do you fucking know what I am?!” The venomous words fell from him but Jay didn't look surprised, or frightened.

“A vampire? Pretty cool if you ask-” Alex grabbed his face, pupils shrinking to dots as he let out a noise that couldn't have been human. Something so foreign his own body shook.

“Are you fucking stupid?!” Jay actually flinched back this time, only for Alex to realize the man's jaw was red and bruises were blooming from his hand. Alex staggered back, leaving Jay standing where they were and shaking his head. “No its me whos fucking stupid, get the fuck out!”

Jay stood his ground but his legs trembled, his pale face lit by Alex's kitchen light. He looked sick, like he was about to throw up, and Alex second guessed his decision to yell at him. He did that to him, why was he yelling at him? Why do I feel so angry? He reached for Jay, hand going out and he saw Jay step further back.

His face got paler, holding his stomach before he hit the floor. Knees crunching on impact, world spinning as Jay fell face forward onto the floor. His head only avoided the impact because of Alex's arm, holding him off the cold floor. If Alex could see in Jay's mind he might understand his last thought before blackness took him, and he would never have recovered from it.

Is this what death is like?

—-

Tbc JAY AINT DEAD DW he just passed out

[squarebracketsmileyface]

Trying out using a poll for this. For no particular reason, no reason at all, who would make a better god of time out of the MH guys? (except Jay, he's the human sacrifice who gets to actually have sex with said god lol)

[koibitogata]

creepypasta kinks.

featuring eyeless jack, jeff the killer, masky, hoodie, and ticci toby.

cw: nsfw, knifeplay, blood, cnc.

Eyeless Jack finds his libido to only be elevated after his transformation into a demon. A helpless victim writhing in the grasp of his own carnal desires, he is left with no choice and seeks you out.

Marking. You are his. You are his, and every being, every living creature that lays eyes on you has to know it. The bite marks on your skin are perfect, perfect negative impressions of his impressive set of teeth. He finds the blood dripping from the deepest indentations on your neck to be beautiful.

Dirty talk. “Mine, mine, you’re all mine.” He whispers in your ear, licking at it, teasing its shell. Shivers run down your spine.

Manhandling, also linked to a size difference kink. Jack had always been a tall man, but after transforming, he had grown even taller and bigger, beyond what could possibly be considered normal. His silhouette engulfs yours, enabling him to pick you up with ease, toss you on his bed, carry you and fuck you.

Mirrors. He fucks you in front of a mirror and commands you to look at yourself. Look at you, just how delectable you look while his cock thrusts into you. You’re so red, you’re so bothered.

Breeding and creampies. But he’s not done with you yet, he tells you as he watches his seed drip out of your ruined hole. For even if your hole is useless, you still have other ones.

Jeffrey Woods has always been tightly wound, always ready to snap. It’s no surprise he takes his frustrations out fucking you, whether it be hateful fucking, or…well, it’s actually really mostly just that.

Consensual non-consent. You will be his, even when you don’t want to be, or at least act like you don’t. He’ll grab you, by the wrists, your hair, even your neck, and he will take you wherever and whenever he pleases.

Knife play. “You’re so beautiful when you bleed,” he’ll remark, and the occasional, “I want you and I covered all up in your blood.” And so cover himself in your blood he does, your vision fading as you bleed away.

Impact play. He’ll slap you, your butt, your face, wherever he pleases. You are not a person to him, not in that moment. You are his object to fuck and make use of. His pleasure is number one in his mind.

Licking and marking—though not out of affection. It’s a twisted possession, a wicked obsession. His, his, his. Blood drips everywhere. Red is all he sees. Red is all you are. Bleeding out in his bed.

Timothy “Masky” Wright’s personalities blend. Masky, and Tim. No, not Masky; Tim. Not Tim; Masky. Oh, what’s going on in his head? Why can’t he seem to control himself?

- Bondage. He must tie you up. He has to. The Operator wills it. Masky grabs the rope; Tim resists. He mustn’t tie his precious darling up. But Masky has to.

- Kissing. “I’m sorry,” Tim mumbles, and Masky hisses, don’t. But Tim prevails in this moment, and you get your affection, though it does seem like he’s holding back—from smashing your head in.

- Marking. You want to kiss your precious darling, so be it, growls Masky’s voice in the back of his head. But we do it His way. Masky bites at your flesh mercilessly, causing you to bleed, but at least Tim gets to leave his mark on you.

- Creampie—the struggle between Masky and Tim leaves the latter no room, no time to react to his ejaculation. He comes inside of you, and as he groans, he releases his seed. But before he can pull out, Masky commands: Stay.

- We will mark and imbue this wench. This one belongs to Him.

- YOU CANNOT FIGHT HIM.

Brian “Hoodie” Thomas is attractive, there is no denying it. But if a person were to lay eyes on him, with his charismatic smile, the furthest thought from their mind would be his true demeanor around you in the bedroom.

BDSM, namely sadism, bondage, impact play, and power play.

He is sadistic, dishing pain out without a second thought, like a billionaire spending thousands without a second thought. You plead and beg for mercy, a reprieve from the pain on your ass, but he simply smirks and the sting of his spanks begin all over again.

Bondage. For if he is to do what he truly desires to you, you must not be able to resist. “My pretty pretty darling,” he hums in a singsong, “I won’t be done with you anytime soon.”

Impact play. His favorite is flogging, seeing tears run down your face, red marks the exact shape of his weapon appear on your thighs, your chest, your stomach, everywhere. Your tears are everywhere. And as he fingers you, pleasure and pain blur together.

Humiliation. He unbinds you abruptly, causing you to fall to the ground. “On your knees,” he commands, and you have no choice but to obey.

“Worship me,” he whispers to you, and you obey.

You obey.

You obey.

Tobias Erin “Toby” Rogers is relatively inexperienced, but his confidence surprises you every time. Your guard down, he pounces, engulfing you whole.

Consensual non-consent. “Say you don’t want this.” “What?” “Say you don’t want this,” he whispers back, more urgency in his voice. And so you comply.

Zero foreplay. He inserts himself, intruding upon the sanctity of your body, and as you howl in agony your hole wettens itself around him. He sighs in pleasure. Pleasure—it’s only for him.

Crying. Tears. Tears all over your face, snot running down your philtrum unattractively. It all goes to his cock, it all emboldens him. “Cry more,” he whispers, voice trembling in excitement, fingertips wiping away your tears, bringing them to his lips for a taste.

Fear. The fear in your eyes, so enticing, so easy to get lost in. Were your eyes always so fearful of him? Will you never see him the same way again? The thought excites him, his heart races, his thrusts growing more erratic.

Punishment. All of a sudden, he pulls out and comes onto the floor. He turns back to your confused face and orders with surprising presidency in his voice: “Lick it up.”

You stare at him in horror.

[h0rnyfanficwriter]

-I can't find the gif thing, so pls don't read this if your a minor -

Marble Hornets | P0rn star AU |

It was a cold winter, the frost bit at Jay's pale lips as he shivvered with each gust of frozen wind. It was getting late he didn't realise this new route back from the grocery store was so long, and just in line with Jay's horrific luck, the rain crashed down upon him, beating him like bullets. He looked arround for shelter although there were no bus stops no cardboard boxes there was a door the door to Alex's apartment building franticly he sped over and pulled his hand down the call buttons quickly being let in. He took a deep breath as he stepped into the dry , warmed lobby and then calmly waddled up the stairs holding decaying brown paper bags full of food and toiletries he gave a light knock on Alex's door with the free finger he had. After a minute of what sounded like panicked scuffling. Eventually, Alex opens the door, looking dishevelled. "Um, hi ...jay."

Alex looks at him with confusion "I'm sorry I didn't call I...there was bad rain...it was so cold" he gave a sympathetic smile looking down at Jay's small shivering body "don't worry. Come in. " With a small chuckle, he opened up the door and took some of Jay's bags off him. "Sit . I'll make you coffe" Jay was used to Alex's abruptness he knew it was Alex's actions that spoke more than his words and the way he was lovingly pouring the milk or drawing latte art into the foam made jay wholesomely blush. A few minutes later, Alex came to the couch with Jay's coffee and a can of mountain dew for himself they turned on a movie 'spiderman' one of Jay's favourites. Halfway through Alex's ranting and raving about the special effects , the acting, the plot died down, and he drifted off the sleep. Jay couldn't sleep. The lovely coffee kept him up , awake , so like any normal person with a massive crush on his best friend, he went snooping . He had been in Alex's room before but something about going in today felt diffrent secret and dirty and boy was his feeling correct after creaking open the door his eyes widened "um" his pupils pinpointed to the set up before him. one of Alex's video cameras on a tripod and a set of dildos and cock rings splayed out on a table in front of him Jay's cheeks lit up like christmas lights a wild desire pulled him inwards his hands reached for the camera and his trembling hands hit play. A quiet video played jay saw Alex on his bed in positions he had never seen before plying extensively with eatch of the toys on the table 'how is he fitting that ...in there' jay was so distracted by the craziness he's just seen that he didn't notice his growing hard on in his pants not until Alex had a dildo inside him and pre cum already coating his cock Jay's hard on was making his pants unbearably tight so with one quick glance to the fast asleep Alex he flicked through the hours of porn and took out hid cock and desperately pumped his hand down his cock clutching on to the camera he saw Alex by himself , older videos with other boys even him doing themed scenes and of course the shots were artistic and beautiful because evry film by Alex has to be pretentious even the porn and when his mind finally became lost in the shots of Alex's cock or his orgasam eyes he felt the knot in his abdomen snap loseing all control he came all over his hand with a loud "fuck" one of the small few times jay swore. He felt relaxed he stumbled back slightly against the wall he powered off the camera and placed it back on its tripod and with the click of the camera he heard "most people have to pay for that~" with pin-point pupils he slowly turned "Alex?" Bjt Alex wasn't mad or upset , he greeted jay with a sultry smile."You got another round in you?"

[spittingbloodandscreaming]

Hiya!! Your writing is so good!!

any way you can write some Alex Kralie x gn reader fluff?? Maybe reader like comforting him during a paranoid breakdown or something

AHHH I'm sorry you waited so long :(( I'm taking forever to get to requests!! I promise I'm not forgetting about any of you!! I really hope you enjoy <3

It's Enough (Alex Kralie x Reader fluff[I think])

Alex gets this way a lot now.

He hasn't been this bad in a while, though. Normally, he just needs a nap or some time to breathe in a fully lit room. You're fully prepared for all of that, it makes sense enough, but you aren't exactly sure what to do when he has to lock all the doors and windows, all the while insisting that something is gonna get him. And insisting you need better blinds. 

This time, Alex locked himself in the bathroom. You know because you can hear the crying and murmuring from the bedroom, all at random intervals.

Alex is in there, sitting on the bath mat and leaning against the wall. He swears he can feel the walls closing in on him, the kind of thing where you’re not sure if the world is about to go black. He tries excruciatingly hard to focus on something, but the second he looks at an object in the room, it blurs into nothing. He tries the bath mat—nothing. He can feel tears stinging his cheeks. He looks up at the mirror, from an angle he can’t see himself in it. The light from the ceiling reflects into nothing. He closes his eyes and buries his head in his arms. His knees are to his chest. He can’t breathe. He just hears buzzing. He’s dying. Alex is so sure he’s dying.

You knock on the door. You’re kneeling on the carpet now, resting your head against the plywood. You try your hardest to listen for any signs of life, and ultimately end up with exactly what you had before—breathing. At least that means he’s alive, if nothing else. You really worry when Alex gets like this. You know he’s not exactly the most stable, especially not recently. You move from kneeling to sitting with your back against the door and knees up to your chest. You just want to know Alex is okay.

You knock again. “Alex, is everything okay in there?” You speak softly, trying to emphasize that you really just want to talk to him. “I think you should open the door. You’ve been in there for a few hours.” You’re pleading with him now. After a few moments you hear him sigh, and a gentle shuffle. Alex opens up the door, causing you to fall very ungracefully on your back infront of him. He looks down at you, face red and defeated. He’s not wearing his glasses, and you wonder briefly where they are as Alex offers you his hand to help you up. It’s a bit of an awkward angle for that sort of thing, but you take it anyway, twisting around on your way up so that you face him once you’re standing. You hug him tight, pressing his arms to his sides, making it so he can’t really hugh you back, but that’s okay. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?” You let go of him, moving your hands to his shoulders. As relived as you are, you’re still worried about him.

Alex sighs. “I don’t know, I don’t think I need anything.” He moves your hands away and walks past you to sit on the bed. He puts his head in his hands and breathes slowly. He’s trying really hard to not keep crying. He’s focusing really hard on his breathing, but focusing on one thing doesn’t make the rest go away. He’s shaking. You sit down next to him on the edge of the bed, and when there’s no protest, you put your arm around him.

“I really love you Alex, and I’m not sure what’s going on, but I want you to know that, okay?” You lean into him, trying to hold his hand. He's limp for a moment before he realizes this is a gesture he should reciprocate. He holds your hand back, and then puts his other hand over both of yours. Alex is still looking down—his eyes fixed on a spot of carpet. He's crying, you think. You can't hear him, but you're sure you can see tears rolling down his face. 

“I love you too.” Alex is so quiet. He's so small. He looks so empty but so full. You hug him, taking the hand that isn't holding his and putting it in his hair. He's so pretty, he's so kind, you wish he was happy. You wish there was anything you could do to help him. You aren't sure there is, and that hurts worse than seeing him this way—knowing you can't help. You can be here, though, that's something. It means the most, doesn't it? Just being with someone. You hope it does. You hope it means as much to Alex as it does to you.

To Alex, it means the world.

[seth-likes-pepsi]

"Nothing is wrong."

A Jaylex fanfic about Jay's reaction to Alex's change in behaviour during Marble Hornets, intended to be platonic :p

Jay's living room was dark, light shut off, and curtains drawn. The only light source came from the small TV settled on a shabby cabinet that Jay always worried would break under the slightest pressure. The screen displayed a scene from Fight Club, Jay could never get into it, but Alex always seemed to love it. With every change in scene or camera angle, Jay knew to expect a long and passionate rant about every detail of it, even obscure things that most people wouldn't know to point out after several watches. But this time was different. It had been different for a while. Instead of proudly speaking over the whole film, he simply sat there and stared at the screen, occasionally coughing or shaking slightly. It seemed as though he was disconnected from reality or in a weird trance. This wasn't Alex, or at least the Alex that Jay knew.

It had been a couple of weeks since Jay finally realised that something was wrong with Alex. Perhaps it was his frequent coughing fits, or his unpredictable temper, or maybe his constantly growing collection of tapes. Jay attempted to speak to him about it, only to be consistently shut down or brushed off.

"I just have a sore throat."

"I'm exhausted."

"You're thinking into it too much."

"Nothing is wrong."

As time passed and it continued, Jay struggled to figure out who Alex was trying to lie to. He worried that every time Alex had assured Jay he was fine or made an excuse, he was trying so badly to convince himself of that, that everything was fine, that he was the same person he'd always been. The thought tore him up inside. Was Alex okay? Was something happening? What could Alex possibly be hiding? 

Jay's thoughts spiralled over the coming months, with Alex's worsening and concerning behaviour slowly consuming Jay's thoughts. Until it finally stopped, and Alex moved away, but not without leaving one last piece of himself. The tapes. The tapes he'd been so protective of. Jay struggled to cope with Alex moving away. It felt like he'd hit a dead end with someone he used to call his best friend. The thought of the tapes made his skin crawl, Alex's attitude towards them made him want to throw them out himself. What the fuck was on those tapes. Surely it was just Marble Hornets footage, right? Jay couldn't take it much longer and shoved the box in the depths of his wardrobe, hoping to forget about them.