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sister-lucifer · 3 months

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A Bullet in the Chamber

Proxies (Hoodie, Masky, Toby) x Gender Neutral Reader

Genre: Horror/Dark Angst

Summary: They want you to prove your love, to prove that you truly believe you’re meant to be together…with the help of Tim’s revolver, of course.

Content/Warnings: God, where do I start…obviously massive use of a gun, they play russian roulette, descriptions of gore, the proxies are super manipulative and emotionally abusive to reader, just a super obsessive not healthy relationship, this is NOT a feel good fic, it’s implied reader is being held captive

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Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

“We just wanna…play a little game with you, that’s all,” Tim drawls, his voice deep and lazy as he looks at you from behind his mask.

You’re nervous suddenly. Unbearably nervous. A cold chill runs throughout your body and makes your stomach convulse in an agonizing manner, and you don’t know if you’re going to vomit or pass out first. You don’t know why. He’s only just started speaking. Maybe it’s the way he drew out the last part of that sentence, or the way he immediately tried to soothe you before you’ve even fully understood what’s going on, or just that look in his eyes that says ‘I want to fucking gut you.’

There’s a reason you learned to keep your guard up around these three.

Suddenly the little circle you’re all sitting in on the floor feels much, much tighter than is comfortable, and it doesn’t help that Toby slides in closer, bumping your shoulder with his and flashing you a knowing smirk. What exactly he knows, though, is a horrific enigma to you.

Brian is on your other side, and although he doesn’t move, for a split second he glances at you out of the corner of his eye before his gaze returns to Tim. He’s managing to hold a straight face, but you can see the corners of his mouth just barely twitching as he internally fights to keep the emotion bubbling beneath the surface at bay.

There’s silence for a few moments, you’re not sure how long, but you don’t realize they’re waiting for you to speak until Toby nudges you.

“I, uh…what, um— what kind of game…?” You stammer, immediately regretting your question despite the curiosity that’s gnawing at you like a starving animal. You shudder when Toby giggles, clearly trying to stifle the sound as he bumps your shoulder again.

Tim thinks over his answer for a moment, scratching at his stubble in a manner that is far too casual. You think he’s going to speak, you’re expecting it, but he doesn’t say anything at first beyond a tired sounding sigh. Your eyes are locked onto his hand as it reaches behind him, and when it emerges once more it’s holding onto the grip of Tim’s revolver.

“There’s one bullet in the chamber.”

The world is spinning suddenly as you watch him place the weapon on the ground, and the sound of it sliding across the floor to you makes you sick. You bite back a gag as it slows to a stop in front of you. Your mouth hangs open uselessly as you struggle for words, desperate to pull out some sort of protest to what you know he wants but no sound comes.

They watch you grapple with yourself for a few moments before Brian places a hand on your knee. It’s supposed to be a comforting gesture, and normally it would be, but now it feels like a threat.

“Hey, don’t freak out so soon,” He says, lips curled into a subtle smirk, “We did this all the time when we were younger, it’s practically a rite of passage.”

Unsurprisingly, this does little to quell your fears. You’re shaking now, unable to wrap your mind around how they could be acting so nonchalant about putting your lives on the line like this.

“Listen,” Tim huffs, “I’m gonna be straight with ya, kid. We know how you’ve been feeling recently.”

That hardly narrows it down. You’ve been feeling a lot of things recently, none of it good and all of it confusing. That’s just the sort of conflict born from this kind of captivity. You shrug, unsure what to say.

“We know you w-wanna leave,” Toby clarifies, “I saw you staring out t-the window the other day…you just s-sat there for hours.”

That…made you feel a bit guilty. You shouldn’t, but you do. You could’ve at least made it less obvious.

“We trust you, hon,” Brian adds with a nod, “But we also think we could all use a little…what did you call it?”

He turns to Tim, who yawns before answering.

“…Group bonding.”

You shudder at the phrase. Disgusting.

“I…I don’t think this is the best way to…t-to do that,” You murmur, but your words hold no weight when you can’t even look them in the eyes. You’d never take the risk of making any sort of real fuss anyways.

Tim shrugs, seeming to consider your words.

“How would you do it, then?”

You…don’t have an answer for that. Why don’t you have an answer for that?

“I-I don’t know, I mean…can’t we just have awkward group sex like other, uh…groups, or whatever?” You ask, hesitating to call your dynamic any sort of relationship.

You make sure to tack on a nervous laugh at the end to make it seem lighthearted, but no one is amused. Toby giggles, but he’s laughing at you, and it’s painfully obvious.

“Don’t stress about it,” Tim says, “Just think of it as a…a test, you know?”

He sighs when you shake your head no.

“Ya know, like…a way of proving yourself. I mean, you trust us, right?”

You hesitate to answer that, but nod quickly when Tim narrows his eyes at you.

“Good. Well, think of it this way: if we all survive this, it’s a sign that we’re…meant to be together.”

“There has to be a better way—“ You blurt out before you can stop yourself, and Brian instantly takes to calming you.

He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into his side. His other hand comes up to your face, holding your head against his shoulder.

“Calm down, baby,” He says softly, “Don’t jump ship so fast. I told you, we’ve all done this before. We’ll even go first to show you there’s nothing to be afraid of, alright?”

He’s not really giving you a choice.

You nod.

Maybe you’ll be able to just get this over with. If you sit here for much longer, you’re gonna be sick.

Toby reaches out to grab the gun first. That doesn’t surprise you at all. He’s never been one for forethought, or common sense in general. One day his hubris will get him killed, you think, but for once you’re hoping it won’t be today.

Not today.

Not here.

Not right in front of you.

Brian doesn’t let you go, continuing to hold you against him as Toby makes a show of spinning the chamber, letting it run until it stops on its own. He giggles with deranged amusement as he presses the end of the barrel to the bottom of his chin, looking back at Tim with a crooked grin.

There’s silent for a few moments, and you can’t look away from him until you follow his gaze to Tim, who is staring back with furrowed brows.

He’s still for a beat, and then he nods.

A signal.

Go.

You have a split second to process Toby preparing to pull the trigger before you bury your face in Brian’s hoodie and he, in turn, covers your face with his hand and squeezes you tight. It’s hardly comforting, but it’s better than nothing.

The soft click of the trigger seems to echo endlessly in the silence that follows.

Silence.

You quickly look back up and are immediately met with Toby’s hazel eyes looking back at you, their corners crinkled with the wide smile that’s spread across his pale face.

“Lookie there,” He drawls with a laugh, “This h-handsome face is still in tact.”

“Hardly the better outcome,” Tim mutters with a roll of his eyes.

This prompts Toby to slide the gun to him next, crossing his arms in feigned hurt.

“You go n-next then, wise guy. If you blow y-your brains out, at least we’ll know you h-had one.”

“Shut up,” Tim hisses back as he, too, brings his hand up to spin the chamber of the revolver. You’re still trying to catch your breath. You didn’t think they’d be so eager.

You’re gripping onto Brian’s hoodie so tightly your knuckles burn as you watch Tim press the barrel of the gun to his jaw, angling it upwards toward the dome of his skull.

He’s not nearly as giddy as Toby. He’s straight faced and silent, which isn’t odd, but something in his eyes is darker than you ever remember it being. You can only see his eyes with his mask on, yet you know his expression exactly. He’s staring right at you, and you’re imagining his brains dashed against the wall behind him, his face and any identifying features that once made him human reduced to a splatter of viscera that barely resembles the pieces of a person.

And when it’s all over, you think, you’ll surely be the one left to clean the mess of what used to be Tim. You’ll be left to scrub the red stains from the floorboards while the others continue on as if nothing has happened, and suddenly you can’t breathe.

The world stills as once more the trigger is pulled with a click.

Then relief hits you like a shockwave when that click is followed by silence.

Silence.

Your lungs fill faster than you were ready for, and you cough and sputter as your chest heaves with newfound breath. Brian rubs your shoulder gently, his other hand reaching out to grab the revolver as Tim slides it to him. The gun is exchanged without a word, only piercing eye contact as Brian lifts the weapon and spins the chamber, just as his companions had done before him.

It seems so natural for all of them. In the half a second it takes for Brian to lift the gun you wonder how many times they’ve done this, if you’re the first person to witness this ritual, and if not, what happened to those who came before you.

You don’t find any hope of getting answers, though, as you watch Brian press the barrel to the side of his head. He gives you a squeeze, and you can’t tell if he’s assuring you or saying goodbye just in case.

You still haven’t released his hoodie despite the throbbing pain in your fingers. You’re barely a thread away from tearing out a patch, but you can’t let go. You don’t look at him this time, unable to pull your head away from where it rests on his shoulder. You wrap your arms around him and squeeze like you’re trying to crush him, but he only lets out a breathy chuckle and ruffles your hair in response as if he’s amused by your terror. You’re a scared kid to him, a foolish little child running from an imaginary monster despite the very real threat.

You can hear his hoodie shifting as he adjusts the position of the gun. You can hear the slight scratching against his hair as the barrel moves against his head. You can hear him suck in a quick breath as he readies himself to pull the trigger.

You hear the click.

And then silence.

Silence.

You’ve never been so grateful for silence.

You nearly jump out of your skin when Toby claps and laughs loudly, practically howling with wildly misplaced celebration. He shakes you in his excitement, unable to get any intelligible words out through his giggling.

“Shhh,” Brian says with a finger to his lips, “We’re not done yet.”

He’s right. Goddamnit, he’s right. Not everyone has played yet. You were hoping that maybe just this once the higher being that trapped you in this hell would have this minuscule mercy on you, but you were met with a resounding no.

Brian places the gun on the floor in front of you. You can’t hear the sound of the metal gently knocking against the wood floor, but it makes you feel ice cold. Your world is rapidly going dark as you struggle to make yourself breathe.

You can feel the others’ eyes on you, three pairs of eyes staring right at you and boring a hole through your skull that’ll surely be identical to the one the bullet will leave. Maybe they’re imagining it, too.

It seems you’re not moving fast enough for them.

Toby reaches out and grabs your wrist a bit too roughly, forcefully placing your hand on the gun. You wince like you expect it to burn, but you’re left with only the cruel sensation of metal on your palm.

You weakly curl your fingers around the grip of the gun. It feels impossibly heavy as you lift it, trembling like a leaf in the wind. You force your other hand up, placing two fingers on the chamber of the revolver as you prepare to spin it.

You press the pads of your fingers against the metal, pushing down in an attempt to spin, but the gun slips from your shaking hands and clatters to the floor. You yelp in surprise and clamp your hands over your mouth, tears suddenly forming in your eyes but refusing to flow over.

Brian sighs. You can’t tell if he’s annoyed or just disappointed. He picks up the gun, and you think that maybe, just maybe he’s going to let you out, grant you some small reprieve and tell you you don’t have to do this.

Instead he wraps an arm around your waist and holds you close, and his other hand presses the barrel of the gun right to your head.

“I’ll do it for you,” He says, as if it’s nothing serious. Like he’s just grabbing a box off a high shelf to be nice.

You feel like he’s strangling you. He might as well be. It would be a more humane death.

He’s going to kill you, you think, you’re going to die in this godforsaken house with these bastards, you’re going to die in isolation with no one to honor your body.

They’ve sentenced you to death.

You think back to that question of how many have come before you. Is this what they thought about, too? Is this the first, third or twentieth time someone like you has been here? How many unfortunate circumstances have stained the floorboards red over the years this cabin has stood?

It doesn’t matter.

None of that matters.

You’re going to be the next.

That’s all there is for you to be now.

A stain of red on the old wood floors will be your only legacy.

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears as you look up at Brian. His expression doesn’t move an inch. There’s no trace of the humor he always seems to have, not even a hint of feigned compassion or sympathy for your position. He’s not letting you out of this. None of them are.

You reach down and grab Brian’s hand where it rests in your hip, your nails digging into his knuckles. He doesn’t react. He doesn’t even move beyond adjusting his finger to pull the trigger.

Each second seems to go on for an eternity, yet at the same time everything is moving far too fast. You can’t process what’s happening but you just want it over with, that’s your only choice.

He’s lifting his finger, preparing to bring it down on the trigger.

He’s pressing the barrel of the gun into your skin just a bit harder as he readies himself for whatever happens next.

This is it.

This is it this is it this is it this is it this is it this is it this is…

The trigger clicks.

Then there’s silence.

…it.

Silence.

And then Toby erupts with animalistic, ecstatic laughter. It rings in your ears and echoes around your skull in an almost painful manner. You can’t stand the sound.

You’re alive.

The game is over.

All at once relief floods your body in such an overwhelming manner your vision goes dark. You can’t speak a word before you’ve gone limp in Brian’s arms, and he barely has time to put the revolver down and catch you. He holds you in his arms and makes a half hearted attempt to wake you, but when you don’t respond he looks up at Tim with a smirk.

“Out like a light.”

Tim can’t help but chuckle, and for a moment it’s even a full on laugh. This only encourages Toby, who’s flopped over onto his back as his body writhes with mirth.

Brian groans as he stands, pulling your body up with him. He throws you over his shoulder and nods to the others.

“I’m taking this one up stairs, gonna put ‘em to bed. I’m sure they’ll be whiny when they wake up, and you two better deal with it.”

Tim and Toby nod and wave him away. Toby’s finally stopped laughing enough to pull himself off the floor as Tim picks up the revolver. He shoves it into Toby’s chest, nearly pushing him over.

“Go put it up,” Tim orders.

“Or what?” Toby teases as he takes the gun, “You g-gonna get mad ‘cause I won’t clean up y-your toys?”

“Just do it,” Tim demands with a growl, clearly not amused. Toby rolls his eyes and huffs like a defiant child, but nods.

Tim starts to walk away, headed upstairs to his own room, but he pauses on the first step and turns to Toby.

“Oh, and don’t forget to load it,” He adds, “If it’s empty the next time I need it, I’m gonna kill you.”

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mouschiwrites · 5 months

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Creepypasta/MH - Little Things They Do To Show Their Love

Characters: Tim/Masky, Eyeless Jack, Nina the Killer, Clockwork, Brian/Hoody, Jane the Killer

Tim/Masky

When it’s cold out, he always gives you his coat

Before you even start to shiver, he’s shrugging off his jacket and wrapping it around you

It smells like cigarettes and coffee, but it's very toasty

As he puts it on he rubs your arms, trying to warm you up

If it’s extra cold he’ll put his arm around your shoulder as well

He won’t say a word though, he’ll just do it in silence

If you point it out he looks away bashfully

His cheeks go a little red and he mutters:

“Yeah. Don’t mention it.”

When you go back inside he lets you keep the jacket

(for now...)

It makes him happy to see you wearing it; it makes him feel like he’s providing for you :)

Eyeless Jack

He makes sure you’re fed & hydrated

Whenever you’re out together, he always buys you something to eat

Even if it’s just a little snack

He loves buying you your favorite food and surprising you with it

He knows all your likes and dislikes; he never gives you anything you won’t eat

Same with drinks

Though he usually just gives you a glass of water

He won’t pressure you to eat/drink though

He’ll just hand it to you with the expectation that you’ll get to it eventually

He might remind you that it’s there if you haven’t touched it in a while

“Hey, your food is in the bag on the counter. You can microwave it if it’s too cold.”

He just likes to know you’re healthy and hydrated, it makes him feel relaxed

Nina the Killer

Whenever you’re in public, she’s always touching you in some way

She prefers to be holding hands with your arms linked

She also likes locking pinkies if you’re not that into PDA

If your hands are occupied, she’ll just put her hand in the crook of your elbow

If her hands are occupied too, she walks shoulder-to-shoulder beside you

If you’re out together and you’re not touching, it doesn’t feel right

It makes her a little worried

“Y/n, is there anything wrong? Did I do something?”

Physical touch is her main method of communicating affection, so she feels blocked out when she can’t touch you

It’s also her way of showing people that you’re together

Not in a jealous way though; more in a “look at my partner!! Aren’t I lucky?” way

Clockwork

She sends you pictures of things that remind her of you

She isn’t materialistic enough to bring them to you (unless you ask), but she just likes to show them to you :)

A cool leaf, a pretty flower, a shirt, it could be anything

Sometimes it’s something weird like a dead wasp or small animal

“Saw this and thought of you <3”

Even if it’s weird, she never means it backhandedly

She’s always doing it out of affection

She genuinely does spend a lot of time thinking about you, so this is her way of showing it

The smallest of things reminds her of you, and she wants to let you know

Though she usually won’t give the object to you, she might hold onto it herself

Not forever; just until she finds something else that reminds her of you

She frequently has a pebble or something in her pocket for this purpose

She’ll pull it out when she wants to be reminded of you again

Brian/Hoody

He watches you

Not in a stalker way (though I might argue that he does that too)

When you’re together, he pays close attention to your body language

He uses it to discern your current wants/needs

Like if you’re at a party and you start to look a little bored/uncomfortable, he notices immediately and comes up with an excuse for you guys to leave

Or if you look anxious, he’s ready with a distraction for you

“Let’s not stress ourselves out. How about we watch your favorite show?”

He knows all your physical tells; he can read you like a book

Even when you’re verbally denying it, he knows you better than that

Sometimes he even catches things before you’re aware of them yourself

He gets cocky about it sometimes

He’s not trying to be condescending, he’s just really proud that he’s able to help you like that

Jane the Killer

She kisses your hand

It’s a greeting, a goodbye, and everything in between

She’ll reach over, grip your hand gently, and bring it to her lips

Sometimes it’s a quick peck, sometimes it’s a tender and soft kiss

It's usually when she's feeling especially adoring that she kisses you more tenderly

If she's feeling a little goofy she'll bend down in a low bow and say:

"My lady."

Either way, she can’t go long without giving your hand a smooch

It starts as a show of affection, but it quickly becomes a habit for both of you

When you meet, you’re both holding out your hands already for your little ritual

Same thing for when you’re saying goodbye, or when there’s a moment of quiet

It’s not too excessive, but it is pretty often

Thank you so much for reading! Take care lovelies <33

(divider by saradika)

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j0eyj0rdis0n · 7 months

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DARK THEMES AHEAD!!!

How do you think that the CP fan favs

(Jeff, proxies, E.J. you can add if you want :D)

Would react to their S/O threatening to commit suicide (shooting themselves of stabbing) because they couldn't deal with them kidnapping and taking away their freedom or rights?

(Sorry for this depressing ask, im feeling angst-y and you're one of my fav writers on here. Cheers!)

No! I absolutely love asks like this and this is honestly some of my favorite stuff to write! Thank you so much for the ask and I hope you enjoy! 🖤

TRIGGER WARNING AHEAD

CREEPS REACTING TO THEIR S/O TRYING TO COMMIT SUICIDE

JEFF THE KILLER:

When you stole his knife from atop his dresser he almost felt fear. Well.. He did but he’ll never admit it.

The look of wild fear and confusion was splayed all over his face as you threatened to slit your wrists right there. Right in front of him.

“I hate you! I hate you so much!” You pointed and jabbed the knife at him through heavy sobs. “I didn’t want this! I don’t want you!”

He could barely find the words. Should he take it from you? The question really was could he take it from you.

When he finally came to a conclusion he muttered roughly, “Y/N. Give me the knife.”

A simple but hopefully effective sentence

When you didn’t listen and began to press the knife to your wrist, watching the blood slowly pool. He lunged. Ripping the knife from your hands by the blade.

He didn’t care that he’d cut his hands open, blood pouring onto the carpet and his hands burning from the deep cuts.

He just wanted you safe.

You could see him wince as he looked down at his bloody hands, trying hard to play it off with a crooked smile when he looked up at you.

“Come on sweets, let’s go see EJ. He’s good with this kinda thing.”

EYELESS JACK:

He came home to you frantically looking through his medicine cabinets

He stood in the doorway silently, watching you closely to truly get an idea of what you were up to

When you poured an obnoxious amount of hefty pills into your small hand he let out a low growl. A warning one. One you’ve heard many times before when you’d try to escape

He watched you turn around with tears in your eyes

“I can’t do this anymore… Find someone else.” You choked out as you brought your hand to your mouth, letting the pills fall in

It was in an instant he was on top of you, snarling wildly. He yanked your jaw down, immediately sticking his clawed fingers down your throat.

“Throw it up!!” He shouted. It was the loudest you’d heard him speak before…

The pressure from his fingers deep in your throat brought more tears to your eyes as you threw up.

He stroked your back and held your hair as the acid and pills burned your throat coming back up

After that day, all the cabinets had heavy padlocks on them and only Jack carried the keys

TIM/MASKY:

He decided to let you drive, just this once. Just because you begged and he loved you so much he couldn’t tell you no.

You followed the route he gave you, trying to make him think you two would actually be going to the mission site.

When you began speeding up obviously far over the posted speed limit, Tim began to grow suspicious

You’d never been this eager to go on a mission.

It was only when he saw tears falling down your cheeks that he knew what was happening.

“Y/N turn the car off. Pull over. Now.”

When you didn’t do as he instructed he harshly moved to get the car to a stop. Pulling the emergency break and throwing the car into park before ripping the keys out of the ignition

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?!” He shouted angrily.

When you turned to look at him there was rage in your eyes. “You ruined my life!! Now I don’t want one at all!”

He felt his heart sink when he listened to you. You didn’t want him… He thought things were going well between the two of you…

It was only then that he called off this mission, ready to take whatever punishment the Operator had for him

BRIAN/HOODIE:

You’d tried this sort of thing before… He knew you didn’t like it here but he needed you. He’d wanted you for so long he couldn’t just let you go

The first time you two were on a mission you’d tried to jump from a bridge, he was lucky he grabbed you in time. Thank god he was fast…

After that day he essentially baby proofed the house, not allowing you around the other creeps and certainly not on missions anymore

One day he got sloppy though. He was tired, it was mission after mission and all he wanted to do was come home and rest by your side.

He forgot to lock up his gun like he always does. Placing it on the nightstand instead and getting into bed with you in his arms

He’s a pretty light sleeper so it was odd that you could get out of his arms and grab the gun without him knowing

It was only when he heard the click of the safety and your soft sobs that he woke up. Sitting up straight and looking around the dark room.

You were on your knees on the floor facing way from the bed, gun placed to your temple as your body shook with sobs.

He was thankful you didn’t realize he was awake. Otherwise he knew he wouldn’t have been successful in his attempt to take the gun.

When he snatched it from your hands you got up, clawing at him to get it back.

He held you to his chest, subduing you from your attacks.

“Go back to bed sweetheart.” He whispered softly, locking his gun up and taking you back to bed in his arms

“TICCI” TOBY:

You heard him coming down the hallway, back from another mission. He wasn’t stealthy in the slightest when he was home.

You tried your hardest to make it quick as you were trying to make sure the rope was secure while stepping up on the chair

“Y/N?!” Toby ran to you, snatching you off the chair.

“No!! Let me go!!” You fought him like a damn bull, kicking and flailing and scratching.

His lack of physical feeling came in handy in the situation. He pressed you down on the bed, practically sitting on you to make sure you couldn’t go anywhere

Your sobs only slightly hurt his heart. He was more upset by the fact you wanted to leave him. How could you?? Did he not give you enough? Was he not good enough for you?

“How could you do this to me?? I thought I was what you wanted!” He shouted angrily, pressing down harder when you continued to fight.

“I want nothing to do with you! You’re a fucking monster!”

He felt something inside him snap. “You’ll never leave now. You’re mine Y/N.”

#creepypasta #marble hornets #creepypasta headcannons #creepypasta requests #creepypasta hcs #marble hornets headcanons #tim wright #masky marble hornets #brian thomas #hoodie marble hornets #jeff the killer #jeff woods #eyeless jack #jack nyras #asks open #anon ask

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intimidating-fettuccine · 5 months

Note

Hey, can I get some cute headcannons with Masky, where him and reader like play fighting?

Nobody would really expect the fact that Tim likes to goof around with you, but he absolutely would do things like play fighting with you. I think growing up he used to do that with Brian a lot when they were younger, and while he hadn't done it for many, many years the second you bring up the possibility or try to provoke him into play fighting with you he's honestly quite excited to do it. Of course, he makes sure you have a rule in place where if one of you wants to tap out you'll both respect it and be careful, but after that's out of the way if you wanna try and take him on in a play fight, you're more than welcome to.

Tim tries to be respectful of your differences in strength (whether you're smaller or bigger than him, weaker or stronger) to make sure that nobody gets hurt, but more often than not I feel like Tim would probably win. He's a big guy and those muscles aren't just for show, plus he has all of his training for missions, so it's easy for him to pin you and win the play fight. However-- Tim is also incredibly soft for you, and if he sees you getting discouraged he will absolutely let you win against him, as he thinks it's so fucking cute when you get excited about winning, and he always praises you, telling you how strong you are, and he'll give you a bunch of kisses and head pats for doing a good job. If you're having a day where you're just a bit too rowdy for him though, he will totally pin you to the ground and lock your body down so that you can't move and just lay there on top of you for a little while, claiming he wants to take a nap, and pretending to sleep on you while you laugh below him and try and get out of his hold.

I think he likes the challenge of you trying to sneak up on him too. If he's doing something just try and creep up on him from behind, throw him into a headlock or something, maybe try and pin him down onto something, and see if you can accomplish that before he notices you behind him. Sometimes he catches on, sweeping around and grabbing you tightly or pinning you down before you can get him, although sometimes you do take him by surprise (generally when he's tired or focusing on something), and he'll always laugh and pat you on the head afterward, telling you that it takes a lot of skill to sneak up on him and he's very proud of you. I feel like most of the time you guys play fight when you're alone so like nobody believes that Tim would do something like that, but if you ever get caught it would just leave people totally shocked that the Responsible Strict AdultTM would want to engage in that, and Tim will just shrug and smile and say sometimes he can be full of surprises too. You reserve the sole right of being the only person he play fights with because he loves you so fucking much, and seeing you get excited about it makes him so, so happy. Also now that I'm thinking about it, if you win (whether he lets you or not) he totally says that he needs a bunch of kisses to feel better and recover from any "injuries and pain" he might have, even if he's perfectly fine. Who are you to deny him, though? After all, the smile he'll give you afterward is well worth it.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta x reader #tim wright #tim wright headcanon #tim wright headcanons #tim wright x reader

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milkycarnations · 1 month

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I've been bored and can only write for shit when I want to impress someone. Since y'all are putting out good shit all the time, I think y'all deserve to read good shit while you're busy working on your book. This is your fault for making me realize I have a knife thing via Helen. Enjoy my monarchs: @itsabee @13tinysocks

Here's a link if you want to read on Ao3, otherwise it's under the cut!

Brian x afab!Reader | Whet Your Appetite | 5k words

one-shot masterlist | mdni | cw: consensual as always, knife and bloodplay, gunplay but only briefly mentioned, exhibitionism but just a threat, cunnilingus, fear play, missionary, creampie, begging, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, sexual tension

Thursday nights forced you into a nasty habit.

Perhaps “nasty” was a bit too strong; too harsh. Thursday nights grew into something shameful. Embarrassing. Your spontaneous behavior evolved into a habit you kept to yourself - because if anyone found out you’d simply die. Brian cooked on Thursdays for as long as you can remember, but everything started roughly two weeks ago. Two whole weeks of being far too horny for your own good.

That night, you sat across from Brian and watched him intently. From your seat at the kitchen bar, you eyed him as he wielded the knife. That was what killed you. It was a simple chef’s knife with a lengthy steel blade, perfect for sharp, quick slices. Over the couple of weeks that you watched him, it became clear that Brian was skilled. You watched as he diced an onion into perfectly uniform cubes. Now, after washing his hands, he was busy peeling carrots before cutting them into coins.

At first, you were only impressed at how fast he moved, slicing each coin precisely without hurting himself. That interest swelled until you became fixated.

Shifting your weight on the barstool, you leaned forward as you watched him prep.

Why did it feel so wrong to find it attractive - Brian cutting fucking produce? It made no sense in your mind, leaving you heavily embarrassed at how much it turned you on. He cooked again that Saturday. Again, on Monday. You had never given it much attention before, but now every time he pulled out the green plastic cutting board and the knife you were there looking on from the sidelines. Brian certainly noticed the change, but you were sure he had no clue as to why. It wasn’t like you could explain it to him. There was no way you could tell him the way he chopped up that red cabbage last night was sexy. Regardless, he accepted your company and sometimes chose to chat with you while he cooked.

After a while of trying to cope and pretending you didn’t like it, you came to a conclusion. It was all in his arms and the way his hand gripped the handle of the knife. It made his forearms flex and his biceps bulge out under his shirt. Once that first week ended, you only got worse. You were down bad and it was horrible.

That second Thursday, the four of you got lucky and ended up with some extra cash to spare. These days, it wasn’t often that you found someone with six hundred dollars cash in their wallet. You treated yourselves and Brian wanted quality beef cuts for dinner. He chose a stir-fry. Tim requested cold beers.

There, you sat pathetically as Brian cubed the raw meat, a light layer of blood speckling his hands and the knife and pooling onto the cutting board. It was fair to say you had become desensitized over the years - you had both killed people, oftentimes together. However, it had not clicked into your head until now that you enjoyed watching Brian cut into things. The blood was a bonus. You had realized that you’d never witnessed Brian do such a thing before. To be fair, wasn’t his style. Blades were more of a Toby thing.

That revelation made you even more confused because it forced you to come to terms with your attraction to Brian. You didn’t feel this way watching Toby do the same. You tested it and nothing came up.

On a mission with Toby two days later, you kept your eyes on him like a hawk. Enamored with the scene, he sliced and hacked away at the flesh with those hatchets. Skin and muscle split. Blood spilled and coated everything in vibrant, slippery red. There was nothing. Sure, you were full of adrenaline and the adrenaline always left you a bit tingly for hours after, but you decided that it did not relate to Toby. Sure enough, when Brian cooked that Saturday night - a quick meal hours after - it happened all over again. You could only feel so intensely needy with Brian in front of you and a knife in his hand.

From there on, you were obsessed. You ate dinner, scooping the pasta with freshly minced garlic into your mouth, and only thought of him. You took your second shower of the day that night and in the steam-filled bathroom, only thought of him. You lay in your bed, tucked under the covers, and only thought of him as you slipped your hand into your shorts. Holding back from moaning his name, you fingered yourself desperately with a heavy ache in your stomach.

It was your most shameful orgasm yet, cumming to a man who was sleeping in the next room over who had no clue about your weird attraction to him. Strangely enough, the whole situation was the first thing in years that made you feel depraved, and you had done some sick shit. You slept well through the night but woke the next morning with an obvious wet spot in your shorts. This time, you couldn’t fall asleep to ignore your racing thoughts.

As if a conversation with him weren’t awkward enough, now that you’d masturbated to the thought of him, you could barely stand to look him in the eyes. It was impossible to hide how strange you’d been acting and everyone was catching onto you. Toby gave you way too much space, practically avoiding you at all costs. He recognized how you were avoiding Brian and assumed you needed a break from everything going on in the house, including himself. Tim got way too close, assuming you needed help. Though he never asked outwardly if you were depressed, it became obvious when you found a plate of fruit cut carefully into stars and your favorite snack. Tim looked out for you more than before.

Brian knew that the attention was fixed only on himself, even though the others hadn’t noticed. However, he hadn’t quite pinned why. All he gathered was that it was between you and him. That led to today.

Exactly two weeks and three days after it all started. You had done the same thing nearly every night in a row, each time growing needier and downright lustful. In the morning, you showered in an attempt to wash off the thoughts from the previous night, which did nothing to help. The afternoon was quaint: nobody had plans, which made for a relaxing Sunday evening. You were lying in your room, the door cracked open, daydreaming about nothing in particular and enjoying the rare silence.

A knock rapped on your door.

“Come in!” you called as you sat up on the mattress.

Brian pushed the door in and shut it closed behind him. You hadn’t expected to see him, instead anticipating Tim to come in with a tray of snacks again. It didn’t take long for you to grow nervous. Brian walked up to the bed, his socked feet pattering softly against the hardwood floors. He paused right in front of the bed.

“Can I sit?” he asked, his hands hidden in the pockets of his sweatpants.

“Sure,” you managed to choke the words out and shifted to hang your legs off the side of the bed. Brian sat down beside you.

“Did I do something to upset you?”

Brian’s words hurt. It was obvious that he’d assume he did something wrong - you were avoiding him like the plague. Though, it was far from the truth and it wasn’t fair for him to believe it. Still, you couldn’t get yourself to tell him everything.

“No. You’re okay,” you spoke.

Brian shuffled for a moment beside you, “Then what’d I do? Tim said you’re acting fine around him and Toby hasn’t brought anything up. So I know it’s just me,”

You sighed. Was there a point in bringing up silly little lies to save your ass? You valued your relationship with Brian far too much to hurt his feelings over a crush, but you felt like a schoolgirl admitting it. Brian sat in silence with you the entire time, waiting patiently for you to respond. He was never a nervous person at all, but you could see him grow almost desperate as you thought of what to say. The right words never found you, so you spoke with little filter. Brian sat up a little bit straighter as you started.

“I think I’m attracted to you, Brian.”

The words fell foreign off your tongue. Brian didn’t respond. He hardly moved, but you gathered the courage to look him in the eyes. A wide smile spread across his face. Your face flushed with heat until your cheeks turned blistering hot. Brian either didn’t notice or refused to comment on it.

“You think?” he asked.

The tension broke once he talked. You breathed out a chuckle and let the anxiety shed away.

“Yes, I think,”

No hesitation.

“Do you want me to help you find out?”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to squirm in your seat and kick your feet in the air, but you tried to play it off. Though you were mentally losing it, you simply smiled and looked away.

“I think I would like that,” you admitted.

Brian’s hand came out to touch you lightly on the knee, pulling your attention back to him. You looked his way to catch the hungry gaze in his eyes. Heart thumping in your chest, you glanced down at the way his hand flexed around you. It brought you back to the kitchen with that dumb knife in his hand. Between your legs, you grew more excited and could tell you were becoming wet. It made you ache - he hadn’t even touched you there yet and you wanted him.

“Is that why you’ve been watching me cook all of a sudden?” Brian smirked and gently squeezed.

It wasn’t why, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Sure,” you muttered, trying to subtly rub your legs together.

“That’s cute. I felt like you were a bit too interested. But I thought, hey, maybe you were bored.”

“You’re a good cook,” you complimented him back, trying to ignore what he said. You were too interested in what he did, but he didn’t have to know why.

“I’m curious, then. When did it happen?” he asked you, smirking.

You tried not to panic. You didn’t want him to find out the real reason why, maybe sometime in the future, but not now.

“I don’t know exactly when,” you lied. It was odd lying to Brian. He was an excellent liar and that set you on edge. It was obvious you weren’t telling the truth and it was evident he caught you in the way his eyebrows lifted as he smiled.

“You’re not so sure of yourself, you know.”

Quieting, you paused next to him as his hand trailed slightly higher. It made your stomach tighten.

“I wanna know what you were thinking when you were looking at me like that. Be honest.”

Brian’s words poured like honey. When you managed to meet his eyes, they stared deep into yours. He was an intimidating, coercive man and it was strange being on the other side of it. You froze in his touch, but he waited for you to speak. Outside the room, the sound of Tim starting dinner could be heard: pots and pans were moved and water was running in the sink.

“I was impressed,” you admitted. Brian pried further.

“Impressed with what? ‘Cuz it wasn’t the food. I saw you at the dinner table with your head in the clouds. Should’ve known something was up. What were you thinking about?” he repeated.

The pressure he pushed onto you was intense. You could only imagine what it was like to be on Brian’s bad side - a victim being threatened by him.

“I was thinking about the knife,” you finally came clean. This piqued Brian’s interest and his stare grew into something different. His hand now rested on your upper thigh and his body moved to face towards you.

“Keep going. Help me find out what this knife has to do with me.”

“I liked the way you held it.”

Brian chuckled at your response. Though he had caught on, he played along and continued to pry. It was clear he wanted you to say it out loud.

“What’s so special about me holding a knife?”

You were sure it was the thing with his arms and hands; the way he looked so powerful with it, but that was hard to explain without monologuing the past 2 weeks. You thought carefully about what to say and how to make sense to him.

“I guess the way you did it was just attractive to me,”

Brian took a big breath in. He had a way about him that was good at appearing disinterested, but the way he gripped onto your thigh was a major tell. He was into this as much as you were. He wanted it as much as you did. You thought about how much frustration you could’ve saved yourself from if you were ballsy enough to tell him earlier.

“You’re very special, you know that?” Brian’s face seemed to fluster pink down his neck.

Embarrassed with how he spoke to you, you shouted out, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

��It means, you’re into dangerous men. Especially dangerous men holding weapons, and you didn’t even notice. How long have you gone along feeling this way? If I knew you’d be ogling at me, I’d have teased you a bit more on our last mission.”

“Only recently,” you told him, “But the guns they don’t really do it for me.”

Brian looked down at you. It made you wish he were easier to read.

“How interesting. Perhaps it’s cause you want something a little more hands-on. Everyone knows that guns are cheating. Too impersonal, huh?” you silently nodded along, “But I like that. The fear of a gun doesn’t do it for you, you need the threat of a knife. Delicate when you want, but just as deadly when you let it touch the right places.”

Something thumped in your ears, the sound of your heartbeat, and the blood rushing to your head. You could feel your slick pooling in your panties and your legs slightly parted. Sweat dripped down your back, making you shiver harder as his hand traveled to your hip.

“But it’s my turn to be honest. I want to fuck you. So tell me, you okay getting a bit more personal?”

“Yes, please. Keep going,” you were shaking and your words came out as whispers.

Outside of the room, you heard Toby join the chatter and turn on the television. Though you thought Brian would shove you over and take you right there, he remained beside you and reached into the pocket of his jeans. As he pulled out his hand, you noticed the small pocket knife. He held it out in front of you and pressed a small button. The knife folded open with a click. It wasn’t anything fancy and it was a far cry from the eight-inch chef’s knife in the kitchen. It was black (including the two-inch blade) and it was clean - but it wasn’t like you could die of tetanus regardless.

“And do you mind if I use this?” Brian whispered to you, now closer than before. His breath was hot and it only made you more antsy underneath him. You had no idea he kept the knife on him, but it made sense. It looked more for utility than stabbing anyway.

You shook your head.

“Tell me,” Brian urged you.

“No, I don’t mind,”

As Brian pulled the knife closer for you to look at it, you realized you’d never felt so dizzy beside him before. You were now throbbing as you waited, desperate enough to skip foreplay entirely.

“You like it?” he asked.

“It looks sharp,” it was true. The pocket knife had a more serrated edge than the chef’s knife, which came to a whetted edge across the entirety of the blade. The tiny black knife looked like it could saw into things.

Brian nodded in agreement, “You wanna see how sharp it is?” he said, running his thumb perpendicular across the blade. It made a chime as the metal ran across his thumbpad.

“Okay,” your face burned.

“Lay down,” he ordered you. You turned and swung your legs back onto the mattress and laid back to rest your head against the pillow. Stiff, you lay there with your legs pushed together and your hands resting on your stomach. Brian crawled over to you, the bed squeaking slightly under his weight. Breathing heavily, he sat above your legs and straddled you. At that moment, you felt like prey beneath him, but you knew he wouldn’t do anything you didn’t ask for.

A finger hooked your belt loop.

“You like this pair?” he asked you.

Confused, you looked down. Your shorts? They were stolen, but they were nice and fit you perfectly.

“They’re my favorite,”

With the knife still in his right hand, he unbuttoned your shorts and tugged them down. You helped him pull them past your ass and kick them out from your legs. Truthfully, you were still sheepish about being in your underwear in front of him. His fingers traced up your leg and danced along the waistband of your panties.

“What about this one?” he questioned.

“They’re old-” before you could finish your sentence, Brian eased the knife between your right thigh and the fabric of the panties. He swiftly pulled up and sliced the fabric. Tugging down the ripped cloth, he did the same to the other side, this time sliding in the knife from the top of the garment and slicing laterally just above your hip bone. He pulled the shreds of fabric off of you and tossed the destroyed pair onto the floor.

Closing your legs, you squirmed underneath him. The knife was held in his hands in a white-knuckled grip and it made the veins in his forearm pop. Your gaze drifted to the very obvious bulge in his pants.

“You like a little more than just me holding a knife, don’t you?”

As he asked, he fiddled with the hem of your shirt. Could you deny it? Both of you knew you had some kind of complex.

“I think so,” you answered.

Brian lifted your shirt to run the blade of the knife across your stomach. With a knife, Brian was capable of many things.

“You like the fear, too. You must, ‘cuz me and you both know how easy it’d be for me to gut you right now. I could get excited and slip. Then it’d all be over until you wake up again a few hours later.”

Moaning out, you felt yourself drip beneath him. That, you didn’t quite ping about yourself. Of course, you’d imagined Brian hurting other people with the knife, but never yourself. You were putting every ounce of trust you had into him. It strangely felt liberating, knowing you could tell him to stop or tell him to go further and he’d do it all for you.

“Don’t you agree?” he called out your name. Maybe he was onto something.

“Does it make you feel that way, too? Scared that you might lose control? Does it make you burn inside?” you turned the question back onto him and watched as he genuinely thought about it for a few moments.

“I’m a sadist. The thought of hurting you only makes me excited, but the thought of breaking your trust is something different. I’ll go as far as you want, but that means you have to say something if it’s too much.”

It could not get more perfect than that. You smiled as Brian pulled your shirt off, tossing it to the floor, and unclasped your bra before slipping it off. Instantly, your nipples hardened after being exposed to the cold bedroom. You felt vulnerable under Brian, still in his jeans and tee shirt. He continued to trace the blade across your chest with care, the chilly flat of the metal gliding over your nipples. Huffing out you clenched your hands into the bedspread.

“What about blood? Everyone in this damn house had a blood kink, but how do you feel about your own. Want me to see it?”

Trembling under his words, you nodded again before remembering to answer him properly.

“I like that. You can cut me a little.”

Brian smiled at this, but simply kept tracing the blade gently. He did so for what felt like many minutes before he shifted the pressure to the tip of the blade. It dug into your skin, but simply poked at you, not drawing any blood. You whined at the sensation as he moved the blade to your stomach, right beneath your breasts. Suddenly, you gasped as he sliced the blade in a small cut. It was swift and he was done before you noticed it had happened. The two of you watched as the blood trickled out. It was light, close to a scratch. You knew he was going easy on you, in case you changed your mind.

A heavy sigh rang out from above you. He enjoyed watching you like this, his cock pressing hard against your leg through his jeans. You doubted it was comfortable. This time, he grunted as he cut your flesh again.

“Why don’t you take your pants off?” you asked him.

“I want to fuck you but I don’t want to do it yet. The foreplay just started. Isn’t this what you’ve been waiting for?” he explained himself.

“Yes it is, but we can do it again - and I’m already wet enough I just need you now. Please.”

Your pleading came out meek and pathetic. You were sure you looked pitiful, but Brian seemed more pleased by your begging than he was before you’d started.

“Don’t worry your head over it. I’ll help you manage… but maybe if you beg a bit more I’ll change my mind.” his voice came soft and sweet but his words were far from it. Left hand pulling down, he reached to play with your clit. Moaning out again, you sounded like a wounded animal as he cut you while he rubbed, this time harder than the last. The slice left a stream of blood that trailed across your waist and met the bedspread.

“This help?” the circular motions of his thumb on your clit were skilled as if you’d taught him exactly how to do it. As perfect as it was, you wanted so much more. “Does it hurt?” he asked when you didn’t respond.

“It’s good,” you mumbled. It was hard to focus on anything but his thumb as he moved from circles to upward stroked, but the knife forced you back each time. His thumb stroked up, and your body bucked, shaking as you waited for him to do it again. Up again, and this time a small nick to the side of your left breast. The whine you let out was strangled and he stopped, leaning in close to you.

“You want everyone to hear you? ‘Cuz if so, I’ll open the door and invite them in. If not, you should be a bit quieter.”

When you whimpered this time, you pressed your lips tight together. You weren’t sure if Brian was serious about it - could that be his dark secret? Instead of playing into it, you shook it off. You’d bug him about it later. Right now, you were too focused on the way he kept snapping his thumb up and the way the knife returned - this time to your thigh. Shifting his weight, Brian moved down your body, his face close to your pussy. He was staring at it intently as he trailed the knife across your thigh and moved it inward.

Breath hitching, you tried not to twitch under his grasp. Yes, toying with the knife along your chest was dangerous, but there were femoral arteries in your thigh and not as much protection. Arteries spray - you’d make a mess on the bed and Tim would certainly get involved when he would inevitably find out you needed stitches from being alone with Brian. That would open a completely new doorway. It forced you back to what Brian said. You didn’t want anyone to know yet, so you sat still as he held the knife tight against your skin.

Instead of snapping up, this time Brian snapped his thumb down, trailing it across your entrance.

“You didn’t lie about being wet. You’re everywhere.”

Holding the knife against your left leg, he played with the slick between his fingers before leaning in, propping your other leg up with his free hand. Teasingly, he took an experimental lick and laughed as your body tensed, but no noise came out.

“Just because we have to be quiet doesn’t mean you have to hide from me,” he said before sucking at your clit.

“I know,” you breathed out, “but I’m scared I’ll fucking lose it.”

Humming against you, he started to eat you out. You were near tears. It was hard not to cry out for him like a slut at this point, so you slapped your arm around your face and muffled your sounds. Brian knew just as well as you, so you also struggled not to shake too hard as he held the knife against your inner thigh. How could he know what you were thinking? How did he know that spot was what you worried about?

He sucked and lapped passionately like a dog, the sounds filling the room. He started moaning into you, each time louder than the last. You panicked. Though you were trying so hard, he was the one who was going to get you caught and he was doing it on purpose. As he moaned again, you pushed your entire body further into the bed and shot your other hand out to shove his face into your cunt. With the sounds he was making, it would be obvious that you were fucking, but he was fucking with you, so he moaned louder.

The vibrations from his mouth made you cry out, the noise muffled by the crook of your arm. Hard, you gripped Brian’s hair and pulled on it. This time, he groaned out, but it felt less purposeful and more accidental. Once more, you tried not to buck your hips into him.

“Okay, really. Stop teasing.” you begged him, but he made no effort to move, “Please, I need you inside me I can’t take it anymore!”

Once the harsh whispers fell off your lips, Brian dropped your right leg onto the mattress and you let go of his hair. At first, you were confused that he still hadn’t pulled away, until he pushed two fingers into you at once. Arching your head back, you gasped. You could easily take one, but both were enough to stretch you a little bit. This far in, you were so wet and needy he could slip in without fingering you. Still, he began to work his fingers in and out.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it. Dammit!”

A tongue flicked across your clit.

“Just making sure you’re ready…”

“Fuck!” you choked out as the pressure built. The pace was quick and steady; you knew it wouldn’t take long. You were panting now and you took both hands to grab his face. Looking him in the eyes you begged again.

“Please, I want you to fuck me! I don’t want to beg for it anymore, I want your cock inside of me.”

Each word came out between gasps. Your entire body felt like a spring coil ready to burst back into place. Brian pulled his fingers out of you and tore the knife away, tossing it beside you. His shirt came off first, followed by his pants - which he barely managed to pull off. Once his boxers were out of the way, his cock sprung up. In the light of the bedroom, you could see the gleam of precum leaking from his tip. Grabbing onto your hips, he yanked you towards him. Without being asked, you bent your knees and held your legs in the air.

Pushing his body in between your thighs, he picked up the knife beside you and flashed it, placing it against your neck just as fast. He didn’t give you time to think about it before he pushed his dick into you. Leaning your head back, you whined; it was much better than two fingers. He set a harsh pace, fucking deep into you as he held the blade to your neck. His other hand grabbed your shoulder and pushed you into the mattress.

You were dizzy all over again. Fear. Your cunt clenched around him and he groaned, hardly able to keep his eyes open, but boy he loved the sight of you.

“Fuck!” you cried as your orgasm crashed around you. Though you felt it building, the release was sudden. With no warning, your pussy fluttered around him uncontrollably.

“Oh shit,” he breathed out panicked, and tossed the knife off the bed, away from your neck. It clattered on the ground and slid across the floor, hitting your desk chair with a ping . Gripping onto you tighter, he set a ruthless pace as he rode out his orgasm, pumping his cum into you.

With the two of you spent Brian collapsed onto you like a human-weighted blanket. Sighing, you closed your eyes. There was no way they hadn’t heard you, but for now, you would ignore it. Brian hadn’t caught his breath, but he was cocky, “So, did you figure it out?”

Smiling, you laughed, “Yeah and we’re gonna do that again.”

Arms wrapped around you and you sunk further.

“I still think you look hot with a knife in your hands.”

“I’m glad. Next time, you can help me figure something else out, huh?”

#creepypasta #ao3 fanfic #hoodie x reader #marble hornets smut #creepypasta smut #🤍 nova's one shots

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skullytotheark · 3 months

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Timothy Wright “Masky”

For beginners and people who want accurate/canonical lore

[i spent an hour writing about tim lore so i said fuck it and decided to post]

[NOTE: Alot of this is canon Tim lore except for headcanon stuff, The Original source for Tim is Marble Hornets.]

Bio

Name: Timothy Wright

Current Age: 35 [late 20s when marble hornets ends]

Height: 5’6

Canonical Physical appearance: Timothy Wright is a slightly chubby build man with noticeable stubble and sideburns along with a combover hairstyle

Tim’s overall personality: Tim is a level-headed, cautious person, but he is not afraid enough of his advisories for them to disable him. Tim can also be socially awkward at times but tends to be calm a lot of the time

Canonical sexuality: Asexual [Confirmed by Tim Sutton]

Original source material: Marble Hornets [2009]

Creator: THAC TV [The Marble hornets crew], Troy Wagner, Joseph Delage [Writers of marble hornets] and Tim Sutton [Actor of Timothy Wright]

Lesser known facts

Tim’s final words to Brian who is revealed to be Hoody in entry 86, Were “I’ll Kill you”

When Jay is reading Tim’s files in entry 60.5, There is a noticeable detail in the documents that says “Does patient smoke” or something of this nature and it is ticked “Someone in the house smokes,” Implying that one of his family members smoke and this habit soon grew onto him

In entry ######, The person speaking throughout the video is confirmed to be Tim [the actor], Which Means that this is the first and last time where Masky has spoke

Tim was going to college originally wanting to do photography [confirmed by Tim or Troy]

Despite popular belief, Masky / Tim is not a proxy. This being confirmed from the multiple times both Masky & Hoody constantly avoid or run away from the Operator / Slenderman.

After we are led to believe the worst when Marble Hornets ended [believing that Tim offed himself]. Skully in issue 3.5 from the official Marble Hornets comics confirms that Tim is in fact Still alive. This statement is also made true in the canceled Clear Lakes 44 series by Troy Wagner when we see footage of Tim returning to a normal life and working moving supplies

OOC fact that i think more people should probably know about: The Cheesecake joke is a fatphobic joke made via the creepypasta fandom along with other viewers who would make negative remarks towards Tim's weight, Tim later develope a eating disorder because of the constant insults he got about his weight

[Canon] Important events & Lore for Tim

[For people who don't wanna sit through the entire series and kinda want it summarized through]

[NOTE: Rake note that I will be updating certain points if they are incorrect lorewise since alot of this is based off of my own interpretations and memories of the marble hornets series]

Tim’s childhood:

At First Timothy Wright was a very normal lad, Although socially awkward and having a slightly shaky relationship with his mother and father, Tim was considered a normal child. However It is when Tim is 8 to 12 this is when he’s beginning to experience symptoms that are under the hallucination and schizophrenia category. After multiple visits to the doctor his mother “Janet Wright” finally decides to send Tim to the local psychiatric ward where he is further treated by the doctors within the ward, But no matter what they’ve tried it seem that every now and then Tim will have a episode where he breaks out of the ward and run into the local park rosswood national park or hide in a maintenance tunnel which was close to the ward. Always claiming that he was hiding from whatever that he was seeing before bringing him back and locking Tim into his room and giving him large doses of his medication.

College:

A Couple Of Years Later, [around early 2000s] Tim is released into the world and is stable enough to go to college and get proper education, Tim originally studied for photography however it is when his close friend “Brian Thomas” introduces Tim to “Alex Kralie”, Brian was originally auditioning for Alex’s student film “Marble Hornets” but soon Tim was somewhat pressured into auditioning himself. Alex takes note of both of the two’s auditions and later hires them for his student film. Everything started off very tame, The cast would often go off to small locations and film for the movie until later on Alex seemingly becomes more paranoid and slightly aggressive towards his cast. While location hunting with Alex Tim takes him to an old abandoned location near his psychic ward he spent as a child, However after Alex pestered him about the ward Tim soon unwillingly showed him the ward where Alex later attempted to kill Tim. Tim narrowly escapes Alex and although Tim had no memory of this encounter Tim & Alex soon loose touch

Mid Marble Hornets:

[#54 to #59]

In the early 2010s Having no memory of most of the filming during Marble Hornets, Tim was now living a somewhat stable life with a small job. Everything seemed surprisingly normal in life until one of Brian’s Mutuals “Jay Merrick” requests a few of the tapes Tim had that he was given to by Alex so he can use some of the scenes to finish the Marble Hornets Film Alex was working on. Tim gives the tapes to Jay and Jay asks Tim to take him to one of the locations him and Alex visited to, Although slightly skeptical Tim agrees and takes him to the abandoned location. Jay strangely having a weird fixation on the abandoned ward next door to the location Tim originally took Jay to, While roaming within the halls Jay notices a hooded figure roaming down the halls and chases after him. Very suspicious of Jay’s behavior after this encounter, Tim discovers the “Marble Hornets Youtube Channel” and realizes that Jay was lying to him about wanting to finish the film. Tim confronts Jay in a parking lot and tells Jay to never talk to him again. However Tim’s medication was stolen by the Hooded figure that appeared in the ward and Tim has a seizure, When it ended Tim didn’t seem like his regular self as he dawns a mask from the hooded figure before entering rosswood park, Jay following the two in an attempt to help Tim while he was in this strange autopilot like state where Tim is extremely hostile and non talkative.

Masky: “A Mask Of My Own Face”

[Appearances:#18, #19, #23, #33, #35, #45 #50, #52, #61, #76 and # 86]

Originally appearing in entry 18, This strange state Tim appears in every now and then where Tim is mute and often hostile to most People. A possible Theory is that this State is the body’s self defense mechanism for an entity known as the Operator who has haunted Tim all of his life and is the possible reason he spent most of his childhood in a psychiatric ward in the first place. As mentioned this mechanism seemingly puts the body in an autopilot like state where Tim acts without second thought. The Hooded Figure seemingly knew this and exploited Tim’s defense mechanism to have Tim attack Alex multiple times, During one of these attacks Tim attacked Alex [who was visiting an abandoned location with Jay] wearing a white Mask that had black outlines going around the edge of the mask, Black teardrop shaped outlines going around the mask’s eyeholes, U shaped eyebrows and lips painted onto the white mask with black sharpie or paints. During this attack Alex tied Tim and had Jay hold him down before Alex smashed and broke Tim’s leg with a block of cement [this action from Alex caused conflict between him and Jay]. In another attack with Alex the hooded man distracted Alex as Tim got the upper hand and threw Alex to the ground, Tim then tries to smash Alex’s head in with the Rock but fails so attempts to choke him. However this attack failed and the two ran off when they noticed that the Operator was protecting Alex.

“The End Days”

[#63 to 83]

Towards The End. After Jay and Tim make an agreement to help each other, The Two begin going location to location in attempts of finding any pieces to the puzzle Jay has been trying to solve for years now, In attempts to avoid Alex the two would go hotel to hotel while constantly going to new locations slowly but surely piecing things together. During this Time Tim and Jay form a small friendship between each other while also sharing possible theories to what happened during marble hornets, Such as Where to find a missing person named Jessica Locke and why Alex did all of this. However things take a turn when Jay and Tim are attacked by the Operator while searching at Alex’s old house, This attack sending Jay in a state where he is barely aware of his surroundings and aimlessly wandering. Of course Tim tries to lessen the side effects from this attack by giving Jay some of his medication however Jay is very stubborn and seemingly refuses any help while in this state. A short while later when Tim and Jay discover that Alex was hiding in Tim’s house waiting for Tim to come back so he could kill Tim and hopefully Jay, A small argument sparked between the two about whether they should go to the house or not, They soon go to Tim’s house to learn that Alex was kidnapped by the hooded man and is holding him at a abandoned school. However Jay soon attacked Tim and snatched a tape recording that Tim was hiding from him, Jay leaves and watches the tape to find that the hooded man and Tim [while in autopilot state] abducted Jessica possibly in an attempt to drag her out of the whole marble hornets mess, The three go to Rosswood park only for Alex to attack them, Jessica defends herself from Alex when realizing Alex was the threat and not the two masked men before retreating in the forest only for the Operator to abduct her. Learning the contents within the tape only caused conflict to spiral between Tim and Jay when Jay pinned the blame on, Jay attempts to attack Tim but Tim disarms and ties Jay up, informs he’s going to the abandoned shool and leaves Jay at his house. While Tim was having a coughing fit moments after he exits the school and runs to his car he hears a loud gunshot, He recollects himself to find Jay’s camera which shows that Alex shot Jay and in response lock himself in a room only for the Operator to kidnap Jay. Upon learning about this Tim pins the blame on both Alex and the hooded man, A few days later Tim and the hooded man have a fight that led to the Hooded man falling out of the window and to his death. Leaving only Tim and Alex left,

“The Day, The Music Died"

[2014]

In the final days, Tim and Alex was teleported to different locations Tim has been to during marble hornets, The two often exchanging blows to each other while Tim attempts to persuade Alex into stopping this madness, However Alex believes that everyone he had killed was infected with a sickness and that if he hadn’t kill them the sickness would spread, Tim’s counter argument to this is that Alex was only being used by The Operator as a source of power. However when Alex finally gets a grip on Tim, Tim stabs Alex in the neck before stabbing him multiple times in defense. Ending the madness, A few days later Tim was last seen interacting Jessica who was revealed to be alive until Tim suddenly disappeared off the face of the earth.

Personal Headcanons

Tim often avoids wearing clothing that he wore during marble hornets, Especially his Tan jacket he wore as Masky.

Tim sometimes gets recognized as the “Masky guy from That one web series”, A Lot of the time he tends to avoid interacting with people who recognized him since what happened during Marble Hornets greatly scarred and traumatized him. But every now every than he kinda has a small outburst where he basically says “Don’t talk to me or bring that shit up” before storming off

Tim often spots Skully in the distance watching him, Skully is the walking and breathing embodiment of everything and everyone he wants to forget but no matter how hard he tries Skully just seems to find them, Alot of the time he tends to ignore them but recently Skully has been standing in places where they are more noticeable so Tim can see Them, But whenever Tim asks if anyone saw Skully they don’t know what he’s talking about. He’s not even sure if Skully is real at this point.

The Operator doesn’t seem to stalk Tim as much as he expects, The Operator in fact barely follows him anymore due to the lack of conflict Tim has been involved him, Basically meaning that Tim is semi free from this parasitic worm clinging onto him and using him as a source for violence. But of course Tim doesn’t know this and is still extremely paranoid.

Tim finally is doing his original passion which is photography. He often tends to avoid going into wooded areas but every now and then he notices that sometimes his photos contain a bluejay in the background which, Sometimes saddens him but mostly makes him feel better. Tim usually takes photos of small flowers and places that often have beautiful scenery

Tim has a job in repairing computers and getting rid of viruses on old people’s computers. But 99% of the time he’s standing at the cash register having old people ask weird and specific questions about the camera models they’re buying, Sometimes he wonders if working at mcdonalds is better but he does like getting paid

Proxy Tim AU

In this canon/au where Tim is working as a Proxy, Tim is seemingly hypnotized into working for The Operator. But little does the Operator know Tim is slowly but surely slipping out of his puppet like state

Alot of the time Tim hates interacting with other proxies, They’re so loud and honestly so disgusting. Tim is a regular guy amongst a crowd of killers who get their kicks off of killing innocent people just because this eldritch like being tells them to. He kinda finds them pathetic…

Tim despises himself for working for the Operator, Tim thought he couldn't hate himself anymore but he has proven himself wrong yet again. He’s becoming more and more unphased by being told what to do by the Operator and it scares him. He doesn’t want to become like Alex but it seems that there’s no stopping that now.

Tim’s original mask has seen better days. Every now and then he does attempt to clean it but staples and glue can't do a lot when your mask was crushed by a bunch of junk after you throw it away. So eventually Tim does get a fresh mask which has slightly smaller eyeholes and more pronounced lips then the last one but overall both masks have the same paint job, Also worth mentioning that Tim dons a new fur collar jacket and black leather/plastic gloves

#marble hornets #creepypasta #creepypasta fandom #masky marble hornets #Masky #tim wright #Timothy Wright

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crushedsweets · 1 month

Note

hii!! i’m currently obsessed with your au! it’s amazing!!

how does EJ feel about his mask? like how does he feel about taking it off in front of people? are there only certain people he will take it off in front of or does he prefer to keep it on all the time? honestly just talk about EJ i love him smsmsms!!

HII THANK YOU SO MUCH !!! <3333

EJ has mixed feelings with his mask. at first, he was just scrambling to find something to hide himself. he was drenched in so much shame and humiliation, so he clung to that mask every chance he could. now that he's in a slightly better place, he's realizing that its quite literally the mask used from the cult. part of him keeps it as a sort of.. reclamation of it, part of him keeps it as a comfort item. another mask wouldnt be the same

he doesn't like to take it off in front of people at all. he'd only take it off in front of toby and clocky for a LOOOONG while. he's more comfortable in front of clocky, cuz if she's staring, he cant tell. but toby turns his whole head towards jack to stare, and jack can kinda tell with thermavision/echolocation... he just feels like a monster, and showing the grey skin, empty eyes, sharp teeth, scars along his cheeks - it makes him uncomfortable, and he fears that taking off his mask will confirm it for others, and they'll be scared of him.

for a LONG time he wore it 24/7. only took it off to eat(and that would only be lifted onto his head) and to sleep. now, he takes it off when he's alone. . . which is good. progress.

i don't think he'd ever get to the point of taking it off forever. he'll never take it off in front of tim, brian, ann, jane, dina, liu... unlikely for ben, jeff, sally, and kate... possible for nina and toby... and without a doubt, he'd take it off in front of lulu, lazari, and clocky. everytime he senses they're coming, he'd take it off as a sign of respect

#asks #hcs #creeped #eyeless jack

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pasta-in-the-pudding · 6 months

Note

Stumbled across this blog and ah, my heart is blessed! If you’re still taking request, is it possible for you to have Ticci Toby, Masky, Hoody, EJ, and Jeff celebrating the teen!reader’s (kinda like unofficial siblings) birthday?

So many sibling asks lately!

Thank you so much for requesting!!

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

Masky

Tim's never been a birthday guy, but he wants yours to be special

And so, he wakes up a little earlier than usual, throws on some clothes, and hops into his car to go to the store

He picks up your favorite cake mix, your favorite icing, and last but not least, your gift

He then heads home and begins to set everything up

He bakes the cake as best he can, and it actually doesn't look half bad

He throws on some candles, and then gets to work on wrapping your gift

By the time he is done, it is late enough into the morning that you should be awake

He walks up to your room and knocks, when he receives no response he opens your door and finds you sound asleep

He walks over to your bed and shakes you gently

"Hey, wake up" he mutters to you

As you begin to wake up, he tells you to close your eyes as he leads you to the kitchen

Once in the kitchen, he uncovers your eyes

You smile at the scene around you

"Do you like it?" He asks, still standing behind you

You nod and go to sit at the table

He lights the candles and brings you your cake "make a wish" he says, leaning against a chair next to you

You think for a moment, before blowing out your candles and smiling at your wish

Tim stands and grabs a knife "alright, since its your birthday you get the first slice. I also cant promise that it'll still be here by the time you come back for more, you know how Toby and BEN are." He says with a chuckle as he cuts you a slice

You eat your cake cheerily and open your gift, before heading back up to your room to plan what you wanna do for the rest of the day

Hoodie

Hoodie loves birthdays

He ends up being the party planner for most birthdays because of how well he coordinates them

So when your birthday comes up, he gets super excited

He'll decorate your entire room while you're asleep

Streamers, banners, balloons, you name it, it's there

After he's done decorating he goes and makes you a homemade cake with your favorite flavors of icing and mix

He then goes out and buys your favorite snacks and drinks for your mini party

And he's already had your gifts for months now, just waiting to be given to you

When you wake up, he suprises you with your favorite breakfast in bed

Then its onto the gifts

And in the afternoon, you get your cake!

Accompanied by some of the creeps you are close with, singing you happy birthday

Speaking of the other creeps

Expect to get lots of "happy birthday y/n!" Alllllll day

Yeah, brian has not stopped ranting about how excited he is

So now almost the entire manor is aware of your special day

You might even get some more gifts from those who are close to you!

Eyeless Jack

He's not super huge into birthdays either, but since your his sibling, he'll make an exception for you

He makes a quick run to the grocery store, getting a premade cake and a few decorations

He then gets permission from slender to reserve the picnic table in the garden all afternoon for just you, him, and a few other friends of yours

He sets the cake, few decorations and drinks up, and then goes to get you

Honestly his gift would probably be a book 💀

"You can never learn too much"

Don't worry, all your friends bring you gifts too

Ones you'll actually use

Definetly the most boring one to celebrate your special day with

Im sorry 💀

Jeff the Killer

Jeff gets really excited about birthdays

Usually his most excited about his own

But he makes an exception for you and Liu

His parties are kind of half assed though

He gets a store bought cake and just grabs something random for a gift

"Oh wow jeff thank you! its a....app controlled heated blanket??"

"I saw it and thought of you 🫶"

Liu is more thoughftul

He gets you something you actually want

And if he isn't sure what you want, he just gives you a bunch of cash so you can get whatever you want

Jeff would also be adamant that you go out on your birthday

He knows you're only a teen, but he would love to take you out to a concert

Which if course, teens can go to concerts

But the older members of the manor aren't exactly too fond of the idea

He doesn't care though

Fuck those old people

Hed totally get you tons of merch

You'd come back really late at night, totally partied out

But boy was it fun

Ticci Toby

Toby gets really excited for your birthday

Since youre the only family he has left, he wants to make sure that your special day is, well...special!

He gets a ton of decorations ahead of time, as well as a bunch of gifts (as many as he can afford)

The day of, he will spend the entire morning making sure you stay out of the ballroom while he and a few other creeps decorate

He goes all put throwing an amazing party for you, making sure it would be up to your standards

He invites all of his and your friends to come celebrate with you

He tries to make a cake, but hes not a good baker so it turns out a little ugly

But other than that the party is perfect!

All of the attending creeps sing you happy birthday, and you almost drown in a sea of gifts

Also, so many pictures are taken

So many

By toby himself, and other creeps

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the-s1lly-corner · 5 months

Note

ok so hear me out. what about father!masky hearing that Toby is dating daughter!reader.

A teensy bit of NSFW would be fine, like hearing that Toby stole his precious daughter's V-card. (+ and how Toby ended up taking it but that's just a + if you're feeling generous.)

(MASKY AND READERS RELATIONSHIP IS COMPLETELY PLATONIC AND FAMILY-LIKE!!!!)

Father!Masky reacting to child!readers partner being Toby!

Was really debating on whether or not I wanted to answer this since personally I'm a little iffy on writing romantic stuff with toby but I think. Since its not the center piece (?) Of this request I'll let it slide this time

With that said I will say, I'm not sure if my take on the masky/toby dynamic is accurate to most peoples takes since I havent really. Seen much current fan stuff, havent really interacted with the fandom outside of fanart n stuff since 2015 so UHUH!!

Quick warning first portion of this is the admin rambling about their hcs about masky and toby before getting into the actual reader portion; they havent had the chance to talk about their creepypasta hcs in a LONG time 😭😭

Not touching the virginity thing, though sorry anon

Okay the authors note was getting too long but more on how I view the toby and masky dynamic given how I write both characters in my hc/au!

Toby does still try to piss off masky, i think. Since hes just generally an ass and there isnt much else for him to do..

You see I'm still trying to figure out how I wanna write masky and hoodie, since I do wish to honor their roots from MH and mesh together the source with the creepypasta fandoms take.. still trying to hit a balance.. might save that for another post, though! But I do wish to incorporate tim and brian into this as their own thing in my hc I'm just not sure how... anyways summary of what I was gonna say, before I deleted it; masky and hoodie arent around 100% of the time, only really when they're needed or called for. Hoodie is around more, though

Toby, on the other hand is around as a proxy 100% of the time considering. You know he krilled his shitty dad and set his neighborhood on fire

Basically there aren't many opportunities for these two to interact but when he does toby is probably shoving masky, probably trying to snag his mask, ect ect basically doing anything to find a way to entertain and stimulate himself, and that just so happens to include fucking with his fellow proxies

Masky, at least in my writing, is fairly stoic... or at least he keeps his emotions hard to read and every now and then he can be a little unpredictable. Call it a byproduct of being mentally worn down by slenderman in order to work with him, or something

Holds little to no reaction to Toby's antics, actually the only time theres anything dished back to him is when he tries to make a grab for the mask

VERY protective of his mask

Okay moving onto the actual request; regardless of how you end up being his kid.. whether it be found family or biologically.. he would try to be the very best dad he can be.. bonus points if you're a proxy as well, I think you two would train together

Call it a family business/j

I could joke about masky krilling for you, but.... considering that these are creepypasta characters... I dont think it would be a joke

Only saves that for if someone physically harms you though

Dating wise I dont think he would care..

Until he finds out who

Really?

That asshole?

When you tell him it's very hard to decipher his reaction.. hes just

Still

And the mask isnt helping at all

Watches toby like a hawk. Like if this were genuinely any other person I think masky would do some basic sleuthing to see what kind of person your partner is before backing off... but given that he has a personal history of toby being a nuisance, he's more on the fence

Now do I think he would forbid you from seeing him?

Honestly, I'm not entirely sure. I mean yeah sure, toby makes his job harder.. but has he really done anything that warrants that? Does he even have the right, even as your father?

You know that meme from monsters uni. Where sully is glaring down at mike while they're walking

That's basically masky and toby after he finds out

Not many thoughts here, I think

#creepypasta x reader #masky x reader #masky x you #masky imagine #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby x you #ticci toby imagine #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta x you #creepypasta imagine

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nikoisanidiot · 2 years

Note

hi! can we have some headcannons about what a relationship with each of the proxies would be like :)

Yes ofc! Note, in my au the main "proxies" are Tim, Brian and Toby!<3

Relationship HC's With The Proxies||Proxies x Reader Headcanon's

Tim Wright -Be prepared to smell like smoke. You will smell like smoke no matter how hard you try. -Lots of Johnny Cash, John Lennon, Bon Jovi, ect. -HE HAS A KISS THE COOK APRON. DON'T TRY TO FIGHT ME ON THIS, YOU WILL NOT WIN. -Tim need's minimum two hours alone after a mission, no matter how long it was. He takes that time to recuperate away from you for your safety, in case he dissociates and Masky fronts.(In my au he has DID.) -Tim love's when you wear his clothes, it's cute to him. -Tim has a soft spot for kids, like a big soft spot. He want's one of his own one day, with you. -He prefers if you don't interact with the creeps(assuming your a civilian) to protect yourself and the others from harm. -Rant's to you about Toby, a lot. -"Hey sunshine." "Oh, of course love." Just a mushy guy. -Probably love's morning kisses. Like any chance he gets, his arms are around you giving you a kiss on the cheek. -When Tim has schizophrenic episodes, I beg of you to make sure you're there for him and to reassure him. Be yourself and try to make what he's going through as comfortable as possible and don't treat him any different unless you think he need's help. Ask to touch him, incase he might be paranoid and want to run. Comfort is key. -Tim loves cooking, homie will cook you a four course meal if you asked tbh.

Brian Thomas -He love's it when your curious -Oh you had a weird phase? He's had weirder. -Brian is your therapist tbh... -Right after a mission, be prepared to take a long, hot shower together. Also be prepared to probably watch a horror movie right after. -"Hey I know your busy right now but could we go get a bite to eat? I'm hungry." "Go by yourself, Brian. Your a big boy." "Fuck you." "Yeah yeah, get me a chicken sandwich." -Brian makes the most bizzare jokes sometimes. -Brain collects guns, when you want to hear about his collection, he gets excited and probably wont shut up about the damn things for AWHILE. -Baby, babe, honey, sweetie and love are his go to nicknames for you. He has joke nicknames for you too like dickface or asshat but only uses it when he's joking. -Brian can get pretty serious sometimes when it comes to his job so please, if he's working him, don't bug him. -Prioritises time to be with you and makes time to be with you for a few hours. -He likes squish. He likes when a person is a little chubby. Mean's Brian has more of you to hold onto. -Gets pissed off when you act like stewie and pretend he's brian the dog. Like he genuinely hates it. -Loves when you wear his hoodie, and if you ask him to wear it again, he will. -Lost of long night drives, jamming out to random music and watching the stars.

Toby Rogers -He didn't get much attention as a kid, so be expected to have a very clingy boyfriend. -Don't underestimate his strength, he's seriously a strong guy. -When you notice his hands are starting to get big sores, he will breakdown and tell you he had another nightmare of his father... So he'll ask you to bandage his hands. -Hand holding, cuddling and literally and form of physical affection. -Toby has echolalia, he repeats the phrase "I love you" a lot, but he does it with the biggest fucking smile, makes your heart MELT. -Toby dosen't have corprolalia. He just swears like a sailor. -Coming back from a mission, he goes for the booze, he drinks a lot of it to forget literally everything of the mission. AKA his tics can get a little aggressive, he punches himself, throws stuff around the room, has occasionally punched or slapped you a few times. -When Toby has a PTSD panic attack, he becomes non-verbal for a long time and just abuses himself relentlessly because he cant feel shit. He has a mental collapse for a few days, and as a result, Tim and Brian let him take a break from missions, letting Jeff fill in for Toby. -Toby needs a lot of panic attack aftercare. He usually needs to be wrapped up in his bandages and lots of cuddles, kisses and care. -"Y/N- could we-could we please cuddle? I want some care... please." -He loves nicknames like baby boy, pumpkin and Tobs. He loves calling you Babydoll, honey, and babes. -Please don't take his hoodie or face mask, sometimes his only comfort is those things when he feels he can't come to you. -Emotional guy.

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta #creepypasta hcs #creepypasta fluff #creepypasta fandom #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby headcanons #ticci toby #tim wright #tim wright x reader #tim wright headcanons #brian thomas #brian thomas x reader #brian thomas headcanons

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sister-lucifer · 19 days

Note

okay masky x hoodie idea

masky is clicker trained. to an embarrassing degree. Brian used to dominate him and they were weirdly kinky in college and now the sound of a clicker drops Masky to his knees ready to suck like the good dog he is

And Hoodie doesn’t even need the actual clicker, just clicking his tongue does it. Masky doesn’t even understand he’s fucking doing it when it happens it’s that ingrained into him

idk im jn love with the master x dog metaphor for Masky in anything ever

there’s no doubt about it, Masky is the best of the two at following orders. Tim’s mind is so tired and weary it’s easy to mold however his master wishes, and that shows through when he’s hardly lucid in the Masky headspace.

Tim and Brian hadn’t spoken in years, but Masky and Hoodie know each other very well. something triggers a memory in Hoodie, maybe the sound of Masky breathing or the smell of his lingering cologne, barely covered by the smell of pine trees and dirt, but it gives him a brief flash of something only Brian should know.

he stares at Masky for a moment, both of them sharing a silence. Masky tilts his head curiously as Hoodie lifts his mask just above his mouth to make sure the sound is clear.

he clicks his tongue twice.

Masky jolts, the physical reaction nearly making Hoodie flinch. Masky drops to his knees a moment after, looking up at his partner as if expecting something, but…neither of them know what.

Hoodie gestures for him to stand again, and he does, though slower than he dropped. silence stretches between them once more, but not for long.

Hoodie clicks again.

even faster this time Masky is down. he gets onto his knees with his hands sitting flat on top of his thighs, clearly awaiting something that’s just barely evading both of their memories.

Hoodie takes a step closer and reaches out, putting a cautious hand on Masky’s head and gingerly running his gloved fingers through his hair. his hand slides down the side of his face to his chin before pulling away. the shape of his jaw is disturbingly familiar.

Hoodie’s eyes trail down Masky’s still body slowly, taking his time. Masky can feel his stare but does nothing; that is, until he feels it stop at his groin.

he follows Hoodie’s gaze down to his lap, eyes widening behind his mask when he sees the obvious hard-on straining against his jeans. he hasn’t even realized.

there’s a flicker of realization between the two of them that there’s more to this than either of them know, but they don’t care. this feels right, and thats all that matters.

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

#i’ve got mail!#drabble #marble hornets #masky #hoodie mh #masky x hoodie #tim wright #brian thomas #marble hornets smut #masky smut #dom/sub

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bogusboxed · 7 months

Text

Boxtobier ⊗ Day 1

"Go Big or Gourd Home.”

Pairing: Toby Rogers X GN!Reader

Theme: "Pumpkins." & "I've Got You.”

Rating: (PG-13)

Words: 3.9k

Trigger Warning(s): Vulgar Language & Descriptions of Scars.

The rights to this character, "Ticci Toby," fully belong to Kastoway.

This is a fictional, harmless piece of writing; do not incorporate it into your daily life.

"I saw this on TikTok once!" Toby tried to speak before you cut him off. "Stop. Stop right there—we are not adding fucking mayo to this pumpkin pie."

You may have been trying to make a mess of the place with the poor excuse of trying to make a pie. But you weren’t about to add mayonnaise to this thing.

You sighed; maybe this wasn’t the best way to get payback on Tim.

⋇⊶⊰⊗⊱⊷⋇

An hour before this deranged chaos, you’d been called down by Brian and Tim.

This wasn’t anything brand new; you were usually issued some requests, among other things, like a few tips, reminders, and things to do while they were out on their mission.

But instead, this time, you were greeted with a heap of shit. That heap was a very unwanted critique of your work performance.

Of course, it wasn’t like you couldn’t handle constructive criticism. No, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was his sassy little Southern attitude.

⋇⊶⊰⊗⊱⊷⋇

Brian had been leaning against the wall closest to the front door in his typical canary hoodie. He wasn’t wearing his ski mask yet, instead clutching onto the fabric with a shit-eating grin. He watched you both silently, like a hawk above two bickering rabbits.

"I know you can do better than... well, that."

Tim sighed, making direct eye contact with you while baring a half-lidded expression.

He hadn’t seemed bothered by his last-second addition; in fact, he seemed relaxed, placing his hands into his jeans pockets.

He didn’t harp on it too much but made it clear he wasn’t impressed by your "lackluster conduct" on your last mission. It was his professional way of saying he thought your way of handling your missions was half-assed and messy.

But, to you, it wasn’t any of his business to judge and stalk how well you performed solo. You knew you were the newest addition to the proxies, but you were just as capable as any other proxy, if not better.

So, in a childish backstab, you invited Toby (of all people) to make a pumpkin pie with you.

To the average person, making a pumpkin pie was an extremely nice thing to do with friends. But the thing was, you weren’t in it for the pie.

You were in it for the anarchy of a mess Toby was going to mindlessly create, and he was more than happy to oblige, thinking this was just a cute, innocent activity you two were going to bond over.

Currently, you had just shoved the pie into the rust-covered oven; it was finally semi-done, and all you had to do now was let the turmoil simmer.

Taking a swift and profound inhale, you let your shoulders fall. Considering all things, your plan to get revenge on Tim was going perfectly.

Taking the time to scan the granite countertop, you found that flour had been recklessly scattered and even dumped nearly all over the place. To add to this disaster, the pumpkin puree you two had fought with ended up everywhere, including the ceiling.

Admiring the mess you bet Toby would make with a devilish smile, you turned to your fawn-headed counterpart. He blinked slowly, his usual sarcastic, hyper personality dimming to detachment.

He took a sluggish, staggered exhale like he finally took in the severity of the mess you two made.

"...Tim’s going to kill us," he stuttered, fumbling over his words while mindlessly furrowing his thick eyebrows.

Looking at his face, a mix of pumpkin and flour was streaked all over his soft, distressed features. From his freckles to his scars, the ingredients covered just about all of him. It was even on the shitty apron he stole that read, "To-do list: Let's Get Griddy Gang." (What deranged teen did he steal that from?)

The corners of your lips curled upward as he watched a mischievous glint appear in your eyes. "I hope so."

"What—are you a masochist? -I-... never mind. Don’t answer that." He huffed, shivering from the chest up.

Not because he was cold, but because he just functioned like that.

He swallowed thickly, watching the kitchen timer slowly dial down. He couldn’t accept the fact that you genuinely wanted to make Tim hate your guts, so he just watered it down to you being clinically insane.

Although he wasn’t too off target.

You had your entire scheme planned out on a whim; once the pumpkin pie was done, you’d place it on the countertop and immediately leave for your mission with Toby, all right before your "roommates" got back.

Staying in a still, dazing silence, you decided you’d go ahead and get the most arguably important element you needed for this dessert. The thing that’d tie it all together, like the cherry on top of the hurricane.

The whipped cream.

Leaving the lankier man’s side, you traversed through the disordered mess to reach the fridge.

Heaving the steel door open, you were hit with a frigid breeze of air that’d been accumulating inside all day. Ignoring the cold, you allowed your eyes to filter through all the items. From the pickle jar, milk, and beer to the black body bag.

Until you saw it. You immediately reached up to the skinny aluminum can, and your warm palms quickly reacted to the cold metal. However, something was off.

It was light.

His gaze retreated from yours, tension rising in his limbs. He sank inward, his posture shrimping forward as you eyed his motions. He scratched his palm, clearly trying to avoid your suspicions.

He mumbled sharply, narrowing his eyes while feeling his throat constrict, "I was hungry—what else was I supposed to eat? - Pickles?"

You sighed, dismissing his defensive behavior as you brought the half-empty can to the nasty countertop. You didn’t get why he couldn’t just admit it and move on. You didn’t understand why he had to get so bent out of shape for being called out on something as stupid as that.

Your eyes apprehended the surrounding clutter with satisfaction. Dropping his behavior, you softly nodded your head to the wreckage of the kitchen. As disorienting as it looked to the average person, the mess had looked serene to you.

Even with Toby’s unclear personality, you had to admit you enjoyed his presence. Having to live in this cabin in the middle of nowhere was mind-wrenching and would make even the sanest person question things.

Especially since you worked under that thing.

Although the people you considered to be your current coworkers weren’t all that bad, when you reached the top, you were finally separated from the others. After that, your life had become substantially more placid.

It wasn’t to say the work wasn’t harder than before, because it was. But at least here you had real free time. You had time to clear your mind away from all the horrors of your job without being bothered by a coal-haired, tweaked-out serial killer.

Plus, Kate, Tim, Brian, and Toby were easier to stand than the others you had to work with, and unlike the others, you didn’t mind spending time with them. But you just wished you could’ve all met under different circumstances. (Not that you’d ever admit that to any of them.)

Finally placing the whipped cream on top of the cakey debris, Toby decided he’d continue the small talk, "So, uh, what are we going to do about the mess?"

He watered the situation down, knowing you both could visually see the multitude of the destruction.

"Nothing," you replied instantaneously as he stiffened at your words.

His view flickered toward you as his mouth slightly hung open, forming a silent "O." By his expression, you could tell he was starting to actually believe you had a death wish.

He muttered under his breath, almost not believing what you were saying, "Why?"

You kept quiet, deciding whether or not telling him the truth about why he was here would be a good idea or not. You knew he had anger issues, but you didn’t know if your deceitful actions would set him off or not.

But yet again, lying would just escalate the problem.

"...To get back at Tim," you exhaled softly, knowing just how childish it sounded.

He tilted his head at you. To him, the words that came from your mouth were foreign. He didn’t know how to take being associated with your crimes, but he didn’t mind it all that much.

He just thought you were stupid.

"Yeah, 'cause that’s a good fucking idea." He chuckled at you, his healed mouth tear contorting upward.

In a hush, he still had a smile indented into his features. He wasn’t going to shoot down your plans entirely, considering he’d had his agenda of getting back at Tim.

Looking at you with his curved features, he questioned your methods, "Then what? I mean, he’s going to be back eventually, and he's going to be pissed."

"By that time, I should be off on my mission." You folded, admitting the rest of your plans to your now willing accomplice.

Toby held his tongue with a light smile. He began to lean back on the disaster of a countertop behind him, not thinking about the potential that it could stain the back of his hoodie.

You watched him lay the rest of his weight back before moving a hand to his temple. Strands of hair that once stuck to his forehead were fluffed as he allowed himself to drop his shoulders.

His nut-brown eyes were dilated and unfocused on anything you had to say.

All things considered, this was a pretty positive response from Toby. He didn’t seem all that tense, and you knew what he was typically like from the months you’d shared a cabin with him.

But, from his current expression, you didn’t have an ounce of worry that you’d get any backlash from him. In fact, he seemed all in on your naive rebellion against Tim.

He chewed on his raw bottom lip absently and said, "Y’know, I tried—to burn down the cabin my first week."

You felt your eyes blink several times before fully processing what he just said. Hearing that, you regretted not going further with your actions. (Poor Tim.)

You raised your eyebrows involuntarily, replying, "If you're still standing, then maybe I have a chance."

He breathlessly chuckled at your words, continuing to gnaw on his healed wounds. A droplet of crimson raced down his chin as he nibbled at it, not noticing the warm liquid trace his scar-filled features.

He stood there, still reclined on the granite, "Yeah- well, Tim dragged me along for any missions he had after that."

Hearing those words, you felt your throat tighten. Now you really couldn’t afford to be caught in the crossfire of this mess. But if what he said was true (and it probably was), You’d only be denying the inevitable of having to be followed by Tim for a good month or two.

But, yet again, maybe he’d have more mercy on you, considering you didn’t burn down the cabin.

*DING*

The dingy, off-white kitchen timer finally rang, breaking the slight silence you two had harbored. You felt yourself flinch at the abrupt buzz, while Toby didn’t seem all that phased by the sudden noise, and if he was, he was able to unconsciously restrict his movement.

You rambled some curse words before swiftly racing over to the 2000s stove. Your hands ran to the knob, cranking it off before grabbing two distinct, picnic-looking gloves from the stovetop you’d conveniently left beforehand. Hastily, you slid your red gingham-patterned mittens on as you yanked the oven door open.

A wave of heat blew against your face, causing a slight burning sensation on your cheeks. The warmth enveloped you, putting a thin layer of sweat on your forehead.

The heat messed with your vision as you aggressively blinked through it.

With the hot breeze, you could smell the pie. The aroma was soft on your nose, as hints of cinnamon and spice danced in the air. The addicting smell was enough to make you take a quick inhale before returning to your original focus.

Through the heated air, the oven’s interior light helped to illuminate the scene. The dim light revealed a perfectly caramelized pumpkin pie that sat in the middle of a metal tray.

Steam radiated from the pie, showing it was still somewhat cooking.

Reaching inside, you grabbed the blazing pan from the inferno. Lifting the tray, you could feel just how heavy the pie was.

The baked good was a hefty, dense pie that completely relied on your steadiness to not collide with the floor. You could feel your frame teetering, inches away from falling face-first into the oven.

You swallowed, trying your hardest not to tip over while still pulling the pastry out.

Finally retrieving the tray a little more than halfway, thoughts started to impulsively soil your mind. What if you went too fast and it tipped over? What if you had bent too far and there was just no safe way to retreat?

At this point, you could feel just how hot the cooking tray was.

You felt how the heat seeped through the fabric mittens and onto your palms.

You needed to speed up before you burned yourself. Pulling the pan up further, you suddenly felt your soles slowly slip due to the pumpkin puree under you.

Dread filled you as you began to slide on the smooth flooring.

You had accepted your fate, and while still trying to lift the burning tray to a safe spot, you started sliding fully. Thinking of a safe way to execute your plan, you paused your movement to not further the slide.

That was until you felt a presence hovering behind you.

You would’ve questioned the person if you didn’t have a steaming pan stuck in both hands. Standing there, almost falling with the tray, two skinny hands quickly covered your own from behind.

Arms surrounded yours, helping you hold onto the pan.

"I’ve got you." Toby stuttered as he stabilized you and the tray.

You were stunned, to say the least. You did need help; you just didn’t expect it to come in this manner. He was close—almost too close for just friends to be. You could hear his rapid heartbeat as his muted, warm breath invaded your neck.

The sensation that this brought was so much warmer than the freshly baked pie that had been cemented to your hands.

Your thoughts felt like they were leaking out of your head like your brain was slipping out of your ear.

Noiselessly, you froze up like an idiot. Thoughts paralyzed you when you smelled the pine on his worn-out hoodie.

Every breath you took sealed your fate. You wanted to speak, but here you were holding your peace. The feeling pulsing through you had to have been what sinking in quicksand felt like.

He had planned on mirroring your movements from behind until you just decided to stand still like a mannequin on display, "Are you going to place it? Or what?"

God, you had been spacing out.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks. Returning to consciousness, you forced yourself to continue your original plan. Ignoring the figure observing your stillness, you finally pulled the tray out completely.

The weight of the pie, which seemed almost unmanageable seconds ago, was now securely resting in your shared hands.

Carefully holding the fall-themed dessert, you maneuvered the both of you to the gasoline stovetop. The way you two cooperated felt like a team game as you both gently placed the pumpkin pie down.

Once the pan made a satisfying clink sound with the oven, his bony hands swiftly uncovered yours. He pulled his lean, well-formed arms, now fully away from your figure.

As you pulled your oven mittens from your warm palms, you felt his brisk absence.

Exhaling, you distracted yourself with the pie. The once-saffron orange had been reduced to a muted ginger. Near the edges of the circular treat was a deep auburn shade hinting that it’d been cooking using its heat.

Admiring your work, you couldn’t help but think how good it’d taste on a crisp Halloween night.

The toasty atmosphere was still swirling, enveloping the both of you. Inhaling the aroma of the freshly baked pie, you could feel the lingering tension. Your breath stifled, trying to embrace the smell rather than your accusing thoughts.

A mix of cinnamon, nutmeg, and a tinge of cloves spread through the cabin like wildfire. Honestly, the pie smelled like a lit candle from a high-end store.

Looking back at Toby, you met his sight, "Thanks."

The words were plain and simple. Relaxing you could feel the heat of the room gradually decline.

"A-huh," he muttered back at you, resigning his gaze to the floor.

You watched him scratch the inside of his mixed hands more destructively than he needed to. The conversation was growing dry as you didn’t say anything in response to his dead tone.

Your sight soon hunted down the almost hollow can. There wasn’t much left. Not nearly enough for each slice to have its own dollop. Would one swirl in the middle be enough, or was it not even worth it at that point?

Indecisiveness flared through you as you decided to use this moment as a spark for conversation, "Cream or no cream?"

"Well, there’s not much left, but if you want to do one dumb dollop, then go ahead." He replied, picking at his fingers like he wasn’t the reason you were lacking whipped cream.

Looking at him this close, you could tell he was chewing the inside of his cheek. He seemed to have ignored what happened last time. Eyes tracing to the other side, you looked at the hollow gape in his mouth. Teeth ran up his jaw like a canine, revealing his darkened gums.

You tapped your fingers on the skinny can like a drum as his eyes flickered to yours. "Y’know, it’s rude to— stare."

You slightly recoiled, turning your gaze elsewhere as he dropped his head slightly to the side. Unannounced to you, a misshapen smile formed on his face. He was fond of the way you responded to his words.

"Sorry." You exhaled, knowing he was playing with you.

In response to your words, he lightheartedly giggled. He had a certain way of letting you know if he was upset with you, and this wasn’t it. But, still, you didn’t want to set him off in any way.

He knew he shouldn’t mess with you like that, but he found it so addicting.

You heard a firm click of the tongue, and unwillingly, you turned back to him. He was tracing his convoluted scars with his index finger; no blood dripped from the healed wounds. At this point, it seemed he wanted your attention.

He wanted you to look at his wilted wounds with loathing repulsion. He needed to hear you critique his looks so he could bury the feeling deep inside of him.

Instead, your sight trailed from his face to his arms and then to his hands.

His sculpted hands were littered with disfigured markings from his past. The valleys of his fingers had been flawed with absent chucks of flesh like he’d gnawed them off a while ago.

But that aged damage wasn’t what you were disturbed by.

It was the inflamed scarlet decorating his chapped palms. The marking seemed tender to the touch, unlike the rehabilitated marks everywhere else. He held his shaky breath in his throat, seeming to realize what you were skeptical of.

"...You touched the pan, didn’t you?" Your words came out loosely; you watched him swallow densely now, not enjoying the words coming from you.

He kept silent with a stiff expression (he got caught red-handed), "Maybe."

Of course, Toby couldn’t feel it, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t injured. With the number of reckless incidents he inflicted on himself, you’d think he’d learned by now.

Typically, his only argument was that it gave you all the superhuman ability to heal wounds overnight, and while that was true, it could still get infected in that time frame.

Inhaling, you wished that he hadn’t helped you after all. He didn’t have to, but he did. Of course, you might’ve fallen on your ass if he hadn't, but still, there was a chance you wouldn’t have.

Maybe he was scared that you'd drop the pie you two worked so hard on, or maybe he was driven by a feeling of irrationality that had him doing before thinking.

You came to his side before calmly reaching out for his scorched palms. He withdrew naturally before he realized your intentions. He soon gently rested both of his unstable hands on yours.

Taking both of his trauma-filled hands, you investigated the swollen skin. You absent-mindedly started to run your digits all along the inflamed marks.

Reaching his palms, you could tell he was much warmer than he should’ve been.

In concern, you mildly pulled him by the wrist. Mindfully, you both treaded through the battlefield of a mess to the sink. You turned the faucet, bringing it to a slow, manageable pace.

Quickly, swatting your hand through the water to ensure it was at a safe temperature, you pulled his wrist again, motioning him to cool down the wound. He glared at you before giving in to your concerns. The water splashed the side of the sink in response to his hands suddenly changing the course of the mini waterfall.

He stayed quiet, looking down at you. "You realize I can’t feel it, right?"

"Yeah, but you’re still wounded." You rebutted his obvious observation, holding back the urge to say something witty.

You solemnly watched the liquid deliberately stop the inflammation. It wasn’t like you didn’t know about his medical condition; it was more that you didn’t like him denying his physical well-being. Sure, it wasn’t a big deal to him, but it was to you.

"...Thank you." The words dripped from the grit of his teeth lowly, almost like he didn’t want you to hear them.

You grinned hearing him force his pride away, "You’re welcome."

You looked him in the eyes and kept your smile. It felt right to help him, and it felt even better to hear him praise your efforts.

"We should probably-" He tried to speak until both of you were abruptly cut off by a noise neither of you wanted to hear.

The doorbell.

Heads turned to the front door; it was obvious they were back. Anticipation bubbled viciously in your stomach. How long had you two been messing around?

This wasn’t good. Neither of you was supposed to be here right now. It wasn’t part of the plan. You felt your body stiffen as you swiftly looked at your partner in crime. He seemed to stare at you just the same.

"Fuck."

Written By: Verdana. (bogusbox)

Beta [Alpha] Reader: Sara. (tobyskitten342)

Mentions: @flufftober & @tobyskitten342

A/N: I won't be participating much this year due to my personal life. Things are pretty messy over here, but I hope the oneshots I do post are okay!

#flufftober 2023 #day 1 #creepypasta #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby x y/n #ticci toby x you #ticci toby #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta x you #creepypasta oneshot #x reader

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mushroompoisoning · 1 month

Note

Good friend, I ask of you because I trust you, what are these "The Mechanisms" you are so fond of?

Okay I tried to type out an incredibly long summary but tumblr deleted it so you're getting a semi-sane version instead

The Mechanisms are a band of immortal, space-faring pirates travelling the universe singing about the tragedies they witness for our entertainment!

There are nine main members you'll hear about, with the tenth - Dr Carmilla - having left much earlier and making her own music 👍 ( there is technically an eleventh but they're more of a mystery easter egg than anyone we know things about )

Quick lore thing: the mechanisms immortality works from the mechanical part(s) they each have. They can die and get injured, but they'll revive whenever the narrative wants them too. All logic in this universe functions off of Would It Be Good For The Story

The cast is:

Jonny D'Ville (he/him) is the ship's first mate ( don't let him tell you otherwise ) and he's got a mechanical heart

Nastya Rasputina (she/her) is the ship's engineer and girlfriend! Yea the ship - Aurora - is alive btw. She's got me hanical blood

Ashes O'Reily (they/them) is the ship's quartermaster and best arsonist! they've got mechanical lungs

Drumbot Brian (he/him) is the ship's pilot and the only one with a moral code. It's controlled by a switch which flips between Means Justify Ends and Ends Justify Means with no nuance. everything is mechanical except for his heart

Ivy Alexandria (she/her) is the ship's archivist! Pretty chill, cares more for books than violence but that doesn't mean she disapproves of the latter. she's got a mechanical brain

The Toy Soldier (it/its) is the mascot and whatever else they tell it to be! it just wants to be involved. will follow anything you tell it if you ask nicely ( or with enough force ). it's not actually mechanized, and is instead a sentient wooden man

Gunpowder Tim (he/him) is the ship's master at arms! madman war veteran who I love dearly. he blew up the moon. he's great. I pick favourites. he's got mechanical eyes

Raphaella La Cognizi (she/her) is the ship's unethical scientist! nothing is off the table when it comes to research. nothing. theory is she mechanized her, but iirc that unconfirmed. she's got a mechanical spine and wings!

and Baron Marius Von Raum (he/him) who is neither the ships baron nor doctor. he claims to be both, though. Deeply unserious fella. he's got a mechanical arm

^ here are some good images for crew reference

OKAY! Now onto actual music

They have six albums and a couple singles!

Once Upon a Time (In Space) is an unconventional retelling of classic fairytales

High Noon over Camelot is a retelling of King Arthur

Ulysses Dies at Dawn is a greek mythos adaptation

and The Bifrost Incident is a norse mythos adaptation

there's also Tales To Be Told volumes I and II, and the two single Frankenstein and Death To The Mechanisms ( technically that one is part of an album but the album is just a bunch of their other songs from already existing albums )

The tales to be told albums contain some of the mechanisms origins!

One Eyed Jacks is Jonny's

Lucky Sevens is Ashes'

Lost In The Cosmos is Brian's

and Gunpowder Tim vs The Moon Kaiser I don't think I have to say

Nastya has an origin song, but it was never officially put on anything. You can find it on the @mechanismslorearchive ( you can get any lore you want on there )

They also have a number of live shows ( you can find those on youtube ) and written stories on their website! I recommend these if you wanna get to know the mechanisms as characters better

that is the basic rundown. I'm not an expert on the mechs so if you're looking to talk to a metaphorical seasoned nurse instead of a med student I'd go to @bugsinthebayou or @gunpowderdtim (sorry for tagging yall)

#wallace says shit #asks & answers #mechs posting #HP!!#hope thats right I had to check your name #enjoy this messy and amateur summary #god I hope there are. limited mistakes in this.

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gearbox-dollhouse · 16 days

Text

Up next for the fandom sleepyqueers: Brian and Hoodie!

Brian:

he/yan/harm(ful)

Amab xenogender dude

Transgay (transorientation)

Poly

Flags:

Transerotomania

Transstalker

Transsasaeng

Traumathing

Transomnispd

Cisharmful

Cisabuser

Cisplural

Cisyandere

Transorientation (transgay/transvincian)

Transautism

NullADHD

Hoodie:

he/it/cipher

Masc-leaning enby

Pansexual

Hyperromantic

Poly

Flags:

Transtelephonicvoice

Transtraumabond

Cisstalker

Transparasocialrelationship

Permamurderer

Cisharmful

Cisabuser

Cisplural

Cisyandere

Transmuette

Transiota

Middle flags:

ADHD

OLD (Obsessive Love Disorder)

Borderline

DPD

@transramcoa @c0smicjayy

Species creds to @rainbow-strawberry-sherbert

Design notes under the cut!

Brian's a very adventurous guy, often getting into dangerous situations. Often enough, he ends up injured - in fact, he recently ended up with permanent damage to his torso, so his legs don't work anymore! Nevertheless, this won't stop him from going on as many adventures as possible - he just takes a friend with him now!

Hoodie is... Less than enthused at the loss of mobility, but he gets around it! Despite Brian's taste in wheelchair design, Hoodie still manages to get around relatively unnoticed and without a sound. Brian is not often aggressive, but that's because Hoodie holds those symptoms, so he's extra aggressive. He's careful not to seriously hurt his friends, though! He's super protective of them!

Both of them are incredibly possessive over Tim and Masky, so that's who they usually drag along on adventures! It's also important because Brian holds onto Tim's seizure meds, so they can't be apart for too long.

What? Oh, Brian holds onto them because the switching between Tim and Masky often leads to Tim losing or forgetting them! There's absolutely no other reason. The fact that it means Tim has to depend on Brian to get them is an unfortunate side effect and nothing else (/lying).

Both Brian and Hoodie are stronger than they appear, easily able to lift and carry others. They're doglikes (dog-esque traits), and their loyalty reflects that.

#pro rq 🌈🍓#rq community #rq please interact #rq safe #rq 🌈🍓#rqc🌈🍓#radqueer #pro radq #pro radqueer #radqueer safe #radqueers please interact #radqueer community #radqueer please interact #sleepyqueers #rq sleepyqueer #marble hornets #hoodie marble hornets #brian thomas

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necroromantics · 4 months

Text

🧺 — Laundry And Taxes

chapter 11. // christmas special // (masterlist)

AN: Helloo to all the readers of L&T, happy holidays to everyone and Merry Christmas for anyone who celebrates :] Heres my present to you 🔥

Standing on the station platform, tickets to Alabama in their hands, Natalie looked out at the approaching train. She leaned over to the boy waiting patiently next to her, and told him that she had never been on one before.

“Seems like we experience a lot of firsts together,” Toby grinned as Natalie punched his arm.

The girl sat on the window seat, resting her head in the palm of her hand as she looked out at the passing scenery. Toby laid back in his seat and closed his eyes, everything was in motion. The white winter landscape was complemented by tall, passing evergreen trees. Natalie watched the unspoiled morning skies mingle with the fluffs of clouds, and listened closely to the pleasant chatter of the two passengers seated behind her. By the sounds of it, they had only just met on that train, and were both headed south to see family. She glanced over at the boy resting quietly beside her and thought to herself how strange it is to meet someone you must’ve known lifetimes before.

The pair held fire in their eyes and their bags over their shoulders as they hurried down the streets sprawled with snow. Once they approached their destination of a tiny house decorated with an abundance of Christmas lights, Toby knocked heavily onto the front door. After waiting for a minute, the door creaked open, a familiar tall, blonde man wearing a Santa hat stood with a toothy grin on his face, welcoming the two inside. Brian gave Toby a hearty pat on the back as he led the boy to the living room, Natalie following silently close behind.

“Good to see you’re not in handcuffs yet, man.” Brian said

“Yeah, good to see you’re still growing out that awful mustache,” Toby teased back. In the living room, Tim sat in his recliner chair with an afternoon beer in his hand. He was sporting a red Christmas sweater that presented the words “Merry Christmas Ya Filthy Animal”. Beside him, there was a small Christmas tree perched atop the coffee table. Toby snickered to himself at the sight as he walked over and played with the plastic pine needles.

“Damn Tim, you really went all out this year huh.”

“Cut the shit,” Tim said, swatting the boy away.

Brian sat himself down onto the couch and grabbed the remote, turning on the television to whatever sports channel was on, letting it play quietly in the background. Taking a seat beside Brian, Toby looked over to Natalie who had been awkwardly lingering in the entrance, her arms crossed over her chest, her body pressed to the wall. The girl glanced over the room of men and furrowed her brow. She never liked proxies. Toby stared at the disinterested girl for a moment, watching her quietly reside in her own little world, before Brian spoke, catching the boy's attention.

“So you’re living in North Dakota now? How’s the weather up there treating you?”

“Uh, yeah, it’s alright. I’m used to all the snow from back home in Colorado, so it’s not too bad.”

As the two men continued to exchange their small talk, filling in the silence that hung over the room, Tim took another sip of his beer.

“You still hellbent on getting back to the old world?” Tim chimed in, causing Toby to look over with an irritated glare.

“So what if I am? Whats it matter to you?”

“Just wondering,” Tim lifted his bottle to his lips once again as he turned his head to look over at the football game. There was a long pause of tense silence for a moment, Toby’s gaze still directed at the man in a trained glare.

“Better to just leave all that shit behind anyways, right?” Brian said, leaning over to Toby to recenter the boy's attention over to their friendly conversation.

“Sure,” Toby muttered, looking down towards his feet for a moment, “What’re you up to now anyways?”

“Just working, trying to save enough up to get back to school, you know?” Brian groaned as he threw his hands back, stretching the tension out of his tired body.

“Yeah? Where do you work?”

“If I tell you that, I’m gonna have to kill you,” The man teased with a grin, to which Toby rolled his eyes in playful annoyance. Natalie watched from a distance as the men caught up with each other's lives, as if there had been no brutality between them. She watched as Toby joked with his colleagues; ones who had beaten him bloody many times before. She watched as Toby’s hands reached for the remote to switch on a channel that played Christmas music; hands that have killed countless people. She watched as Tim eased himself into the casual chatter, throwing in a sarcastic comment or two, bickering with the boy sitting across from him. They were a lively bunch, and as Natalie leaned back against the wall, her indifferent expression subtly hinting disdain, she wondered what gave them the right to act as if nothing had happened. The girl was no saint, and she knew this to be true, she was cruel and vicious, a killer, but she would never find herself sitting amongst men like these, pretending as if blood didn’t drip from her mouth from all the throats she had ripped out. They were rotten and vile, and it seemed her best friend was the worst of the worst.

A soft knock to the front door put a quick stop to the conversation, and Brian walked over to the entrance, past the girl who hadn’t said a word since she arrived. Toby’s head peered up, listening closely to the sound of Brian inviting somebody in. He wasn’t told of anyone else joining them that Christmas evening. As the stranger entered the living room, both Natalie and Toby’s eyes widened. The familiar man held his hands in the pockets of his dark gray sweater, his dark eyes glancing around at the three lounging around the room. Jack smiled awkwardly at Natalie as she shamelessly stared at his newly human appearance, her gaze meeting his. Toby, on the other hand, had been staring out of discomfort. The last conversation he had with Jack had been a fight months ago back in Mississippi. He knew Jack was never one to hold a grudge, yet the boy couldn’t help but feel a weird sense of unease when the man sat down next to him.

“Good to see you again.” Jack smiled.

“Yeah.”

Brian entered back into the room with a case of beer, breaking through the stiff atmosphere, and sitting on the couch next to the two others. He pulled out a bottle and handed it over to Tim, who had already drunk through his previous one, and then handed another to Jack, who shook his head.

“I’m not drinking tonight,” he declined.

“Suit yourself,” Brian exclaimed, popping off the cap and taking a sip. The four men talked amongst themselves as Natalie listened in, drumming her fingers along to the beat of the holiday tunes quietly playing from the TV. She couldn’t help but glance over at the clock, counting down the minutes until she could be free from that dreadful place. When she initially agreed to come to Alabama with Toby, she hadn’t considered how out of place she would feel. Tim never liked her much, Brian and her never really talked. They had both deemed her a weak point for Toby back in the old world — something in the way. There was always the expectation that she would turn on him, sell him out, be his downfall. And in a way, it was true. Whenever Brian snuck a glance over at the lingering girl, he noticed she would always be looking at Toby.

Once the clock had struck 5pm, Tim pulled himself out of his seat, tapping Jack to follow him into the kitchen.

“You too, Toby. I ain’t preparing dinner all by myself.” Toby groaned as he stood up, shuffling irritatedly behind the two men. As he passed by Natalie, he nudged into her with a sore smile, to which she playfully hit him back. The two would laugh at nonsense together as though it made perfect sense, bumped into each other as though it was an embrace. There was an awkward tenderness between the youths who had never been loved, and had to figure something out. Natalie had the tendency to lie through her gritted teeth. Not intentionally by any means, but she deluded herself for so long, so desperately, she was nearly a master at the art of self-deception. Brian had noticed this feat, and on that lively Christmas evening, begun to pester the girl.

“There’s plenty of seats, you don’t need to keep standing around you know,” he called out to the girl who only raised an eyebrow at him. He nodded his head towards the empty chair across from him, and Natalie huffed with annoyance at the bothersome man as she strolled over to take her seat. Brian sat with his bottle in his hands, the sound of bickering coming from the kitchen filled the open air.

“You and Toby live together now, huh?”

“I guess,” Natalie said with a stern look, crossing her arms as she leaned back into her chair, staring at Brian as if she were in an interrogation. The man only smiled back at her, his Santa hat draped over his head.

“Good to hear he’s found someone who tolerates his bullshit,” Brian said as he reached into his case of booze, “Want a beer?”

Natalie shrugged her shoulders in agreement as the man pulled out a bottle.

“Just remember, you can’t save that kid.”

“Great. I never wanted to. I wouldn’t know how to anyways.”

“So, do you love him?”

“What’s it matter to you?” she glared at the man.

“You got a fire between you two,” Brian continued to tease as he handed the drink over to the girl, who snatched it from his hand.

“Then I guess I should ask Santa for an extinguisher this Christmas.”

The man grinned at the witty reply, chuckling to himself as he glanced over towards the boy angrily storming into the living room, ranting to himself. Toby huffed as he collapsed into the couch beside Brian, sinking into himself.

“Toby, get your ass back in here,” Tim shouted out from the kitchen.

“Go fuck yourself,” the boy shouted back. Brian grimaced awkwardly as he took his leave, taking one last look at the girl who had once again been staring at Toby, before making his way into the kitchen to help with dinner.

Once Brian was out of the room, Natalie switched over to sit herself down beside Toby. She nudged her shoulder into him as the boy looked back at her.

“Stop being so cranky Toby, it’s Christmas.” The girl spoke as her eyes met with the boys who stared back at her. Toby let out a deep sigh and leaned into the girls side. He was warm, she was cold. The smell of the turkey and stuffing breezed past the two as Brian waltzed into the room once again, this time to alert them that dinner was ready, and to come get their plates.

The group, with food piled onto their plates, sat together as they made up for all of the lost time. On that drunken Christmas night, with loud chatter and laughter filling the fireplace warmed air, everything was fine. Bloodshed was past, sickness had wilted away. As five human beings sat victorious in that livingroom, ridden with battle of another world, their festive cheer only confirmed the triumph of man. The war was over, and they had earned their evening.

Toby sipped his booze as he watched Tim stumble over to his seat, sharing a tale of a time he had lied his way out of a speeding ticket.

“You’re a great actor, you should star in a film,” Brian teased with a grin.

“I will strangle you,” Tim threatened.

Natalie felt a hand shift over onto her own, and glanced down to see Toby’s fingers interlocking with hers mindlessly. She thought well of him. Even when he drank, she thought he was a good boy. The girl squeezed his hand back, and drifted away from the jokes and festivities to lose herself in her thoughts. He had already made plans to head back to Colorado to spend Christmas morning with his family, leaving Natalie to catch the midnight train back up north.

Once the late night tiredness had washed over the group, Toby found himself arguing with Tim, who alongside Brian, had too many drinks to drive the boy to his destination.

“How am I supposed to wait until morning? You agreed you’d drive me tonight.”

“I could drive, I haven’t been drinking.” Jack spoke out, stepping between the argument. Toby looked over at the man with his offer, and scrunched his brow with reluctance, before ultimately giving in and agreeing to the new arraignment.

Toby stood at the door with his backpack over his shoulder, saying his goodbyes to the drunken Brian and Tim as he waited for Jack to gather his things. Natalie hung around by the boy's side without a word as she waited for him to finish chatting with his colleagues. As Jack slipped on his shoes, and opened the door to head for the car, Natalie threw in a quick goodbye to her friend, and snuck away back into the livingroom as she waited for her train back home, which was going to arrive in two hours.

Tim and Brian chatted with each other as they sobered up, and cleaned the dishes in the kitchen, leaving Natalie alone in the other room after Toby and Jack had left. She leaned back into her chair as she stared mindlessly at the fireplace, watching the flames dance and flicker. In her dreams, her house is always on fire. She couldn’t bring herself to let go of the violence, even as it burnt holes into her. The dead girl with nothing to lose, the horrible girl who can’t escape. A loud ringing from her cellphone snapped the girl out of her daze, bringing her attention to the number presenting itself onto the screen as she flipped it open. It wasn’t one she recognized, but as she hesitantly answered the call, she knew the voice on the other end well.

“Merry Christmas, Natalie.” The woman spoke roughly. She sounded tired, a bit irritated.

“Mom?”

“Just thought I’d call and wish you a good Christmas. But if you don’t want to talk to me, just say so,” The woman snapped. Natalie’s heart began to beat like a snare drum in her chest. She hadn’t heard her mothers voice in years, it made her sick to her stomach.

“Why would you bother calling me?” The girl asked quietly, and harshly.

“I guess it’s a crime now to want to talk to you since you left home. You know damn well you’re all I have left, so show some respect to your mother.”

Natalie scoffed. It seemed she hadn’t changed one bit.

“Sure, whatever, Merry fuckin’ Christmas.” She slammed her flipphone shut as she ended the call abruptly, squeezing her eyes shut as she felt a flurry of rage and shock. The walls felt like they were closing in on her, suffocating, choking her. Natalie quickly stood to her feet as she rushed out the front door to get some fresh air.

The outside was quiet as she sat herself on the front door step. It was late into the night, and everything was still. Natalie blinked back the sting of tears rising to her eyes as she took a deep breath in of the frost and mildew. She knew something bad had happened, she tried her best not to think about it. The Christmas lights hanging off of the edge of the rooftop reflected off of the white ground, sparkling. Suddenly, it began to snow. The girl watched as the snowflakes danced gently down through the night sky, landing on the streets and in her hair. Natalie felt warmth fall down her icy cheeks as she surrendered to her tears, quietly sobbing to herself as she looked out into the dark. Despite everything, the world was still so beautiful.

Toby stared quietly out from the passenger seat window, watching the snow as it fell. Jack remained silent as he drove down the highways of Alabama, keeping his eyes straight and his hands firm on the steering wheel. The boy sniffled to himself once in a while, coming down off of his evening buzz. He had always hoped for a mother, a father, something bigger than himself to tell him who to become. But as he stared out of the window into the dark abyss of the night, wartorn and battered, the world seemed so empty.

A few miles into the drive, Jack pulled the truck into a gas station parking lot, announcing that he was grabbing himself a cup of coffee, and that Toby should take a bathroom break before they continued with their long drive to Colorado. The bell jingled throughout the store which was nearly completely empty as the two men entered, Jack heading towards the coffee machine, and Toby to the toilets. The boy pushed past the door and quickly noticed all of the vandalism scribbled onto the walls, like a page from a book had been torn apart and plastered everywhere. His hand ran across some printing on a bathroom stall and read over a confession of sorts a passerby had left in a place they must’ve known they’d never return to. He read the admissions of guilt spread across the room, as if God had been listening. Memories of the old world rushed into his mind like the Great Flood, and he thought about all of the times he would wake up in places like these, thrashed and wrecked, with no recollection of what had happened, or the times he’d find himself leaning over the dirty sinks coughing up blood. His lungs must’ve been rotting. He never knew of anything that didn’t hurt.

Toby spent no more time in that bathroom as he rinsed his hands and quickly left back outside to the truck. Jack quietly placed his coffee into the cup holder next to him and continued to drive down the dark highway, into the night. The silence remained still between the two men, only the occasional car passed by them. Toby tapped his fingers against his knee as he thought to himself.

“You’re living in Alabama now?” He awkwardly asked, avoiding eye contact as Jack glanced over to the boy.

“Yeah, I am. I moved there mid-November. I thought it’d be easier for me if I was around people I knew. Like dipping my toe in the water,” Jack explained. He had turned away from his college room with his head down, running to Latin texts in the depths of an isolated forest. Jack started to find himself seeing the dead through the midst of the maple and oak trees which dangled hanged men from its branches. It seemed that he had no choice but to face what he had done, and find himself in the bustling streets of humanity once again. He wrote letters to his mother explaining a false reasoning for why he had left his education. He wrote them praying. Every letter he received back he collected as punishment for the sins he had committed. Jack kept them in a box under his bed.

“And you? Has North Dakota been keeping you busy?”

“Oh yeah, definitely,” Toby replied, fiddling with his thumbs as he kept his gaze down to his feet, “I actually started a small lumbering business for myself. Chopping wood and stuff.”

“That’s great to hear. Good for you,” Jack smiled.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Of course.”

“I mean, thanks for helping me out. Always putting up with my bullshit,” Toby eyed his shoes, he didn’t want to see the satisfied look on Jack’s face. He didn’t want to think about how smug he must’ve been after hearing those words fall from the troubled boy's mouth.

“You’re not as difficult as you think you are, Toby. I’m not the only one who puts up with you.”

Toby looked over at the man driving, and shook his head. He remained untended to, like an overgrown tombstone, sick with decay. It was as if, from the moment he was born, that boy had never needed anybody else. He never asked for help, or reached out for support.

“I’m on my own. Always have been.”

“What about Natalie?”

“What about her?”

“She’s always been by your side, hasn’t she?”

The boy stayed silent for a moment. Toby didn’t know how to tell Jack that she, too, had left him to dig his own grave many times. She, too, loathed him. It didn’t matter, he thought, he didn’t need her, or anyone, anyways.

“Everyone who tries to stomach me eventually chokes me back up, Jack. Nat isn’t an exception.” There was a childlike loneliness in Toby’s voice as he spoke. One that made Jack quickly come to the unfortunate understanding that Toby wasn’t a soldier, or a war hero, he was just a boy. And the burden of always being the one who grits his teeth and fights an old man's battle must be far too heavy for a boy to carry.

“Does that bother you?” Jack asked. Toby shrugged his tired shoulders.

“After you’ve done and seen all the shit I have, nothing really bothers you anymore.”

Jack looked over at the other once more, a golden boy made to conquer, his eyes were desensitized and dark. Toby was entirely indifferent to himself and the world around him. He knew nothing of the time that had passed him, only that somewhere, at some point, there was a war being fought, and he was now far from the battlefield. That boy had long since lost his innocence, and his homesickness lasted forever.

“Do you actually feel bad for the things you’ve done?” Toby spoke again.

“You know, Toby, my guilt doesn’t mean anything. Apologizing while I killed someone doesn’t make me any different than someone who didn’t. I still took somebody’s life, I still sinned.”

“When I killed my dad…” Toby’s voice trailed off for a moment, “It was the happiest I had ever been, like all of those years of fear finally amounted to something. And I would do it again in a heartbeat. I'd rather have all of that suffering make me into a monster than for it to be for nothing at all."

“You don’t think you had any other choice?”

“It had to be done. Sometimes things just have to be done.”

“I understand,” Jack replied softly as he continued to drive.

“Hopefully God understands,” Toby said quietly to himself, turning his head to look out of the window once again. He tried to describe something unfathomable. Fate, the God neither of them believed in, whatever explained it.

"I guess just knowing that somewhere, my dad is still out there... I can't help but miss him. And I don't know why." The boy confessed, staring up at the stars in the night sky as they shined down brightly on the two men. There was a sense of knowing that he would be carrying that rage with him until he died.

“Do you love your father?”

“No, I hate him more than anything. If you met him you’d understand. Why else do you think I do the things I do?” Toby sat up straight in his seat, chuckling sorrowfully to himself, “I became the exact thing I was so fucking scared of growing up. And nothings going to fuck with me ever again.”

“You’ve suffered enough, Toby. I know you have a lot to carry, you did what you had to do to survive, I get it, but you can put it all down and still be safe.”

“I know that, I’m not stupid. I know I’ll have to listen to everyone someday and just let all of this anger go. But it’s like it clings to me like some scared little kid and begs me not to. And I’m not going to betray myself like that.”

“It takes some time, but there’s always the option to make peace with the past whenever you’re ready. You just need to stop looking in the wrong places for redemption,” Jack said.

“Yeah you’re right, time for me to become Mr. Goody Good,” Toby joked back.

“It really is that simple, you know. One day, wake up and decide to be kinder to yourself, and maybe others. You have been through too much to treat yourself so badly.”

The boy stayed silent, the quiet ambience of the drive filled the air. Toby hadn’t realized that he had been doing nothing but torturing himself the entire time. He didn’t know how to treat himself with anything but violence.

“I’m proud of you, Toby.”

The words Jack spoke drilled holes into the boy's burning chest. Toby looked over at the man who was staring ahead, keeping his eyes on the road, before turning his gaze back down to his hands. He had to do the impossible when he left it all behind, but he was alive, and that was his start. The boy was given no other choice, he needed to make his way in that world, it was just another thing that had to be done. He had always assumed that everybody around him looked at him through his fathers eyes, full of hatred and disgust. Toby assumed that his bitterness had left him intolerable, and it had never occurred to him that there would ever be people in his life who would tolerate him anyways. The praise of his violence in the past was replaced with a soft ‘I love you regardless’ when Toby bared his teeth. He then thought to himself how awful it was that his happiness hurt too.

Soon, the sun began to rise over the western landscape and Jack pulled up to Toby’s mothers house. They sat silently for a moment in the truck before Toby spoke.

“Thanks for everything, Jack. You’re a good guy.”

“You too, Toby.”

The boy dragged his tired body to the front step of his childhood home and waved as Jack drove off back to Alabama. It was late into the day, and Toby hadn’t told his mother he was coming over for Christmas. He thought for a moment about all of the time he had spent fighting against the world, and he had slowly come to the understanding that soldiers either die, or they return home from the war. As his luck would have it, on that snowy Christmas afternoon, it seemed he had made it out of the combat zone alive, regardless of what he had done. And now, it was his job to find peace for himself despite it all.

When he entered through the front door with a spare key his mother had given him, he glanced over the empty house, a tall Christmas tree standing in the livingroom. Toby called out for his mom, and sister, only to find that nobody was home. He turned around to look at the driveway, and noticed both of their cars were still there. Closing the door behind him, a sense of dread building, the boy quietly made his way through the house, cautiously examining every room. In his mothers room, he noticed a suitcase on the floor which had been half-packed. Toby bent down to look through the items packed away, before jerking his head up as he heard the sound of the front door opening.

Toby slowly, and silently, walked towards the entrance of the house, lifting his hands up as he prepared himself for a fight. A loud scream filled the house as Lyra jumped at the sight of the intruding boy, putting her hand over her chest as she realized who it was.

“Jesus, Toby! What's wrong with you!” She yelled as Connie quickly rushed in after her screaming daughter, only to relax as she saw her son awkwardly apologizing.

Connie rushed up to Toby, hugging him tightly and laying a kiss on his cheek. Lyra rolled her eyes and shook off the lingering adrenaline, walking up to give her little brother a hug as well. His mother explained that they had planned a surprise trip to North Dakota to visit him, but he had gotten to them first.

“We were down the street visiting Mr. Mulner and his wife. You remember Caroline. She had a fall a couple of weeks ago. Everyone in the neighborhood has been bringing them giftsfor Christmas," Connie explained to the boy the exciting happenings in her life as Lyra rinsed off an empty cookie tray in the kitchen sink.

“Wow, spreading Christmas cheer. How’d you get Grinch over there to come with you?” Toby teased, nodding his head over to his sister who only rolled her eyes.

“So, are you going to be leaving again?” Connie asked with concern in her eyes. She could never keep tabs on him anymore.

“Yeah, eventually. I’ve been living up North with that girl I was telling you about and-”

“You’re living with a girl?” Lyra interrupted with shock, having been listening from the kitchen.

“Shut up Lyra, don’t act surprised,” Toby argued back.

“Don’t fight on Christmas you two,” their mother scolded with a sigh as she rubbed the bridge of her nose.

Toby spent the day with his family, helping his mother cook dinner, and listening to Lyra’s latest gossip. The sun seemed to set as quickly as it rose, and the evening draped its darkness over the sky once more. After dinner, Connie went to bed early, and Toby sat in the livingroom with Lyra as they bickered over which Christmas movie to watch.

“Die Hard isn’t a Christmas movie you dork,” she said.

“Fuck you, Die Hard is absolutely a Christmas movie.”

The warm glow of the lights that wrapped around the Christmas tree illuminated the livingroom as Lyra groaned and turned on Die Hard. Toby thought about all of the things he had talked about with Jack, and wondered if Natalie had gotten home safely yet. He thought about how strange that the place he thought of to be his home was no longer the place he sat in, but instead a small, old farmhouse in North Dakota. So many things had changed in such a short amount of time, and for once, as he sat by his sister under the roof he grew up in, he felt as if he could make something more for himself. For once, he felt a sort of happiness that didn’t hurt.

“Merry Christmas Toby,” Lyra whispered over to her brother, reeling him back in from his thoughts as he looked at her with a smile.

“Merry Christmas.”

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