#that he only ever uses on things for toby

[dirtyl0ver]

I LOVE YOUR WRITING OMGGGG!

I have a request: what is something that gets the creeps emotional? Not like an “aww” thing, more so like a tear jerker, something that is a deep insecurity for them. I love the way you psychoanalyze them so I’m looking forward to this ma’am!!👄👄👄

I loooove this question! Let's do some more psychoanalyzing 😤🙏

Creeps’ Deepest Insecurities

Ticci Toby

Toby has lived his whole life navigating the challenges that come with Tourette’s and a severe stutter. The tics, the repetition, the garbled attempts at speech, those things don’t bother him much anymore. They’re just part of his world, part of how he moves through life. He's learned to live with the stares and the judgement. That’s not what gets to him.

What truly eats at him is something deeper. Toby struggles to connect with people in ways that feel natural. It’s the aftermath of a lifetime spent on the outside looking in. Growing up, he was isolated early, labeled as "weird" or "difficult" before anyone bothered to understand him. Most people didn’t try, they stared or mocked, or just avoided him entirely. Because of that, Toby never really learned how to be around others.

Social cues confuse him, subtlety goes right over his head. He’s wired to take things at face value, which makes sarcasm, innuendo, and unspoken tension frustratingly difficult to navigate. Conversations often feel like minefields, and while he usually means well, his brutal honesty tends to push people away more than draw them in.

He knows he can be awkward. He can see how easily Tim and Brian move through social situations, how they can talk, lie, manipulate, and blend in when needed. He envies that desperately. It stings, knowing that no matter how much he adapts, he’ll always be the one people label as “off.” He’s self-aware enough to know he’s different… and it hurts that he can’t change that, no matter how hard he tries.

More than the tics, more than the stutter, it's the isolation of feeling like the "odd one out" that cuts deepest.

Tim/Masky

Tim carries rage like a disease. It's deep, searing, and impossible to cure. It's the kind of anger that burns, raw and violent, clawing at the inside of his chest until he sees red. He’s learned to manage it over time, learned to breathe through the moments where everything inside him wants to snap. But it never really goes away. It’s always there, waiting.

What really gets to him is the fact that he can’t fully control it. That it got bad enough he needed pills just to function. Just to keep from breaking someone’s jaw for looking at him wrong. It’s terrifying, knowing that his own body, his own mind, could betray him at any moment.

It takes a lot to push him there, but when he does go, there’s no pulling back. No rational thought, no gentle version of him left. And that truth eats away at him more than he’d ever admit.

He looks at Brian who's composed and calculated, who's always a step ahead, and it only deepens the ache. Tim will never be like that. He reacts before he thinks, moves before he speaks. There’s no cool detachment in him, just fire and impulse. And Masky, the side of him that emerges when that control slips, is a force of destruction.

He knows he'll never be able to have a functioning relationship because of this. He can be charming and caring and protective, but he knows himself and what he’s capable of. One wrong word, one bad fight, one moment of weakness, and his girl could end up in a pool of blood, and he wouldn’t even remember doing it. That’s why he keeps people at arm’s length.

Brian/Hoodie

Brian misses who he used to be. The man he was before the blood and violence, before everything inside him turned hollow. Sometimes he catches glimpses of that old Brian, buried under layers of instinct and compulsion, and it sickens him. Truth is, he doesn’t know where that man went. Or if he ever really existed.

Now, what’s left is something he can barely look at. He’s become cold and detached. If he ever let himself feel, if he let the guilt seep in, it would drown him. There’s a part of him, buried but never silent, that’s disgusted by what he’s become. The kills, the manipulation, the control, it isn’t just instinct anymore, it's need and compulsion.

Sometimes he wonders if there’s anything left to save. If there’s still a soul underneath the silence. If there’s a God, what would He see when He looked at Brian? Would He turn away in revulsion, too?

His insecurity is pretty much existential rot at this point. It seeps into every part of his life. He thinks of his family, the ones who once knew him, and wonders what they’d say now if they saw what he does - what he enjoys. What he’s capable of. And when those thoughts come, he can barely breathe through the shame.

Love? Affection? The idea of being close to someone in a real, healthy way feels like a cruel joke. He doesn't believe he deserves that. He’s seen what happens to people who get close to him - he destroys them.

To him, he isn’t even a man anymore. He’s a walking plague that devours whatever he touches.

Eyeless Jack

The uncontrollable urge to consume human flesh has stripped Jack of any sense of what "normal" used to mean. He can barely stand being around the other creeps most of the time. Sure, they’re all monsters in their own right, but he’s the one they look at like a rotting wound. The filthy and gruesome one.

He doesn’t have friends. More often than not, he's alone. Reduced to a role: the doctor, the butcher, the necessary evil. And deep down, Jack believes that every awful thing in his life spirals back to one thing: his hunger.

When the others sit around the table and share a meal, when someone casually opens a bag of chips and tosses it around, when coffee is brewing - Jack is never offered a cup. Never asked to join, never invited in. And he gets it - of course they don’t want him there. He’s disgusting. His appetite is unnatural, inhumane. It violates every rule of what it means to be a person.

He’s made peace with that. At least, that’s what he tells himself.

Relationships? Almost laughable. How do you look someone in the eye, trace your fingers over their skin, kiss their throat, when half the time, some dark, hideous part of you is wondering how they'd taste? Love becomes a temptation. Desire and hunger get tangled up in his head, and he’s terrified of the day he won’t be able to tell the difference.

And then there's the quiet envy, the aching kind. Watching strangers laugh, hold hands, complain about their jobs. People who get to fall in love without fear. People who eat without shame. People who get to live without the weight of what they are.

Jack doesn’t get that. He gets the gnawing reminder that this - the blood, the teeth, the isolation, is all that’s left for him.

And every time he feeds, every time he rips into flesh just to feel something close to full, a bitter voice in him whispers that this is the closest he’ll ever come to connection.

BEN Drowned

Ben likes to joke around. He’s the funny guy - laid-back, always ready to make someone laugh. That’s the version of him people are used to. The one who doesn't seem to take anything seriously. And because of that, no one really takes him seriously either.

He’s the comic relief. The guy you go to when you need a laugh, but never when you need something real.

And that cuts deeper than he’ll ever let on. Because Ben knows there’s more to him. He’s smart. Sharp, even. He can be thoughtful, capable. He wants to be part of real conversations - the heavy stuff, the planning, the conflict. But the second he tries to step into those spaces, he feels the air shift. Tim shoots him a cold glare, like he’s intruding. Toby snaps and tells him he’s being annoying, even when Ben is just trying to help.

So he shrinks back. Makes a dumb joke and plays it off. Laughs a little too loud. Then walks away with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

But inside he's burning. He hates feeling small. Hates that no one thinks he’s capable of anything beyond a punchline. It’s exhausting, constantly having to hide the fact that he cares, that he wants to be seen. And every time he’s dismissed, every time they brush him off like a buzzing fly, it reinforces the one fear he can’t laugh off:

That maybe they’ll never really take him seriously.

Jeff The Killer

Jeff has no filter, no pause button. He does what he wants, when he wants, and God help you if you try to tell him otherwise. He believes every word of his bullshit. That he’s better, smarter, stronger, scarier.

But under the surface of his arrogance, there's nothing at all. A deep, festering emptiness he’ll never admit to. He doesn’t trust anyone. Can’t connect. Doesn’t really want to anyway. Because relationships require vulnerability, and Jeff sees vulnerability as weakness. And weakness disgusts him. In others and in himself.

That’s why he lashes out when things get too real. Why he ruins anything that even looks like intimacy. If someone tries to care he'll laugh in their face, cut them down with a cruel comment, make sure they never try again.

And deep down, he knows he’s broken. Irredeemable. There’s no soft underbelly, no hidden “good side.” Whatever was left of that burned away years ago. He doesn’t want to get better, doesn't want to heal. He wants to burn out on his terms.

The part he’ll never admit, not even to himself, is that sometimes, in those rare quiet moments, he wonders what it would be like to stop running. To sit still and not feel the urge to destroy everything he touches.

The thought doesn’t last long though. He’ll drown it out with drugs, with violence, whatever rush he can find. But it’s there. A tiny, gnawing whisper.

[drewlypso]

i was thinking too hard about utdr and started thinking about how the difference between player and character being highlighted can also be commentary on how children (queer children in this case) are often mistreated and not seen as their own person

[solarpoweredbirds]

look i understand that like, when you're making a youtube video you wanna have a hook for engagement. but i swear if i see one more video essay that says "is kris dreemurr nonbinary?" or something of the like. i will end up on the news

[kallianthiutdr]

you cannot remove the queerness from utdr without fundamentally hurting the story. there is no label ever put on it but it's there and it has to be acknowledged.

Frisk, Chara, & Kris being non-binary instead of just–whatever the player wants them to be–adds to the themes of individuality and separation between them and the player. For Frisk & Chara, I've made a whole post about their role as narrative stand-ins but also individual characters. For Kris, it's actually ridiculous if you even attempt to claim they aren't non-binary–because they actively reject the player's influence and are the furthest thing from a self-insert. Monster Kid, Napstablook, etc are also genderless. In Deltarune, Seam also.

Also, Frisk considering to Flirt with literally anyone regardless of gender–and that being a game mechanic in and of itself–to me, implies this kid is most likely pan. Whatever you want to call it, their gender-blind flirting is in fact a game mechanic.

Alphys' and Undyne's sapphicness is the key to the pacifist ending. Without setting them up you literally cannot access the true pacifist ending. If it wasn't for Papyrus encouraging his lesbian bestie to send that damn letter, nothing would have happened. (Maybe indeed Flowey would've used another method to make time, but accessing the true lab with Alphys' permission would've been near impossible.) In fact, Alphys' bisexuality and her subsequent crushes are in fact a big part of her character. Not the most important–obviously, Alphys is one of the most layered characters in the game–but in hating herself, the lies she says to appease to Asgore first and Undyne later are undeniably a big part of what makes up her character.

Mettaton's allegorical transness kick-starts the events that lead to the creation of Flowey and the amalgamates. Without him, Alphys wouldn't be royal scientist. No determination experiments, no Flowey, no game. No Mettaton? Half of the hotland segments wouldn't exist, including the MTT resort in which the infamous it's raining somewhere else sequence happens. Mettaton also helps other trans people with their transition, like when he gifted his blue dress to the beautiful trans lioness after being done with it.

Mad Mew Mew's transness, even if unacknowledged by the main game, is constantly brought up by Toby since she appears in occasional News Letters, the alarm clock dialogue, etc, as a way to remind everyone that she exists and is as much s part of this found family as everyone else. She's also a sapphic, with her crush on Undyne also being acknowledged.

Asgore's implications of bisexuality and his inherent homoeroticism when talking about Rudy in the Alarm Clock Dialogue & Deltarune alike aren't game changing aspects of his character but nice touches that inform his relationships outside of Toriel.

The two Royal Guards in Hotland can only be spared through being set-up. Also, their romance cuts the player's nice cream supply.

Papyrus, though nothing game changing can be said about his sexuality, has a well-documented celebrity crush on Mettaton. Also, if you want to bring Toby's twitter joke into consideration, the skeleton brothers could in fact exist in the ace spectrum. And I say spectrum instead of outwardly asexual because Sans befriended our mom last night-

Even though Nice Cream Guy gives free Nice Cream to Burgerpants, he refuses to give free Nice Cream to the human. Burgerpants is so oblivious this could be considered flirting that I wasn't sure if I could count it, but then again Burgerpants is the nexus of a complex, interwoven web of non-reciprocated crushes and he's deeply unaware of the situation at large. This dynamic expands in Deltarune, with Bpants saying that Blue Ears is obsessed and has no sense of personal space–and the latter noting a love for his co-workers and giggling.

So then, In Deltarune, obviously, we have a deeply queer group of people and I think that this queer solidarity is really fundamental to it. I already mentioned the importance of Kris being non-binary .

Ralsei is generally understood to be maybe pan due to his general gender-blind openess towards especially Kris. I don't want to really get into his blushing when Kris gets too close or the fountain of love, because, well, he's representative of Asriel–but still. His queer-coding is undeniable.

But onto stronger candidates for this queer conversation, Noelle and Susie's dynamic adds two more sapphics into the utdr franchise. Noelle's crush has always been a massive, dare I say game-changing part of her character. Susie and Noelle met for the first time in Susie's first day of class. Susie had forgotten her pencil, and then Noelle noticed it and offered her candy-cane one. After this nice action of Noelle's, and also by the fact that she genuinely smiled at her, Susie developed a soft side for her and spared her from her bullying.

Then we have Berdly’s whole, “I'M the one Noelle and Susie are falling like dominoes for. And you know what dominoes means, Kris? ,,,You're next.” At another point he calls Noelle to ask her if she will be his date at the festival the next day. Susie tells him to leave her alone. And you can decide to respond that you'll go out with him or sing the Wrong Number song (in any case, Berdly is surprised). If you choose the first option, he says that Kris will have to compete with Noelle and Susie (thinking the two are into him). If it's the second then, he says that Kris will fall under his charm sooner or late. That also suggest a gender-blind attraction. But, in general, his crushes to Noelle and Susie respectively seem performative. And the queer reading that can be done here is undeniable, taking into consideration deltarune being steeped in themes of identity, performance, masks and unspoken internal conflict.

Now, mind you, every single side character can be viewed through a queer lense–in fact, it's damn near impossible not to do that. I just think that's wonderful. Like, have you seen Rouxls Kaard? Queen? Jevil? Spamton? Tenna? The queerness is oozing right through. The side characters in both Undertale and Deltarune are bursting with camp, flamboyance, theatricality–rarely do they conform into typical binaries/boxes wether those could refer to gender, sexuality, or like. Morality man idk.

[askerror87]

Why it's important that Ramb isn't an American plug.

I know this is pedantic but I've been seeing a lot of otherwise great posts about Ramb that don't quite get that Ramb being British isn't a simple quirky throwaway nonsense detail. He's not British just for the sake of it- there’s a really important reason for that that actually says a lot about him as a character and why he ended up like this. I originally wrote this out as a reblogged response to this post but I realized that this was going to need a visual aid.

Most of the Plugboys we see in Chapter 2 are not only visibly supposed to remind you of a cat, but they are distinctly designed off of the Type B outlet that most Americans would be familiar with. (Note that Ramb's eyes, while still rectangular, are rounder and softer thanks to the eyebrows and beauty marks/ eyelashes/ smile lines/ however you want to interpret these pixels.)

[Image ID: Some Deltarune screenshots and pictures of electrical plugs. Descriptions in alt text. /End ID]

(Obviously, we see a variety of expressions from them throughout the game, which seem to primarily take inspiration from Type A, B, G, and possibly I outlets)

[Image ID: More sprites of the Plugboy with various expressions of stress and surprise, and a whole list of outlet types for comparison, all of which looking like faces. /End ID]

Ramb, however, is designed to be Like the Chapter Two Plugboys But Different BECAUSE he isn’t an American Outlet.

He’s a Type K power strip that Kris and Azzy stole from the Library.

Type Ks are distinct because of the roundness of their first two prongs and the semi-circle curvature of the third, giving them that signature ‘smile’ that Type Bs inherently lack because of how their plugs are shaped. They are also, as you may have guessed, very much European. (Type Ks, as pointed out to me by my friend @strangeandinteresting, are outlets that are primarily used in Denmark, but that they "do also reckon that a Danish accent would be harder to do in written format like that, so for the intents of him seeming 'other' the British (Specifically London, cockney(?)) accent is perfect". I grew up using Type K and other circular plugs, so my working theory is Toby primarily wanted to use a plug type that was distinctly From Europe first and foremost, and had the furthest possible 'expression' from a Type B.)

Ramb isn’t British and a Dog just for the sake of it- he’s Designed Like That because while Type Bs and Type Ks are visually very similar, they are inherently incompatible. You can’t put a European plug into an American outlet and vice versa for a variety of reasons, primarily because you will probably fry the thing you’re trying to plug in. To explain this as simply as possible, British (and other European) plugs are created in such a way where they include their own fuse (which is why the head is so big). Inherently, they are simply a more powerful and superior device because of how they are made. He’s also very portable because of this- power strips are supposed to allow you to Put More Things In Them.

As you can imagine, though… this is only the case if there’s actually something FOR THEM TO PLUG INTO. Whoever ordered Ramb (possibly Miss Boom) accidentally bought the wrong type of power strip. That’s also probably why no one from the Cyber World ever said anything about him- why he was never missed by anyone.

We see this foreshadowed by the Spamton Sweepstakes and its 2025 update. What’s the URL allowing us to access the greenroom page? /ramb. And yet, all traces of him are missing in it… beyond the door that Ramb guards for Kris stating plainly that ‘No one will shed a tear for him.’

Almost like he no longer served a purpose, no? Almost like he vanished without a trace???

This seemingly very small detail about his accent is actually one of many ways Toby gives us an indicator of him Not Belonging and to be able to cement it in this way by accent and character design alone is so good I’m going to explode-

He's supposed to be a shopkeeper but that job was delegated to a vending machine because Tenna didn’t want him handling POINTs. He's supposed to work the green room but he quit. He's supposed to be in the computer lab but no one noticed or cared that he went missing- nobody mentioned him in Chapter 2, nobody mentions him after you go to your Castle Town in Chapter 4. He has all the markings of a secret boss, talking about freedom, chaos, and remarking about big shots, and facilitates play via a game (games are supposed to be fun, don't let it feel like a job, okay?). AND YET-

He doesn’t give you a shadow crystal. No, that’s for the REAL secret boss. He doesn’t give you an item. That’s for the other REAL secret boss.

Something, SOMEONE, meant to be extremely helpful deprived of a use.

Jesus Christ is Toby good at making characters.

Bonus: if werewires are meant to be dogs-

Does that mean if Ramb was to be plugged in his werewire design would be more catlike? (Thank you to @gogogoat495 for the ID!)

[rainrot4me]

Jeff the Killer General Headcannons

Summary: Basic, SFW, and NSFW head-cannons. My personal thoughts, feelings, and opinions about Jeff as a character.

TW: NSFW below the cut, minors dni! Above the cut is sfw!

Words: 2.6k

A/N: NSFW is reader with female anatomy.

Basic:

- Big isolation guy. He enjoys pestering people or hanging out, but when it comes to personal things like missions or killing sprees, he prefers to be alone. His head’s already loud enough that he doesn’t need to add to it when he’s trying to focus.

- Blunt. Like to the point it’s a drag to even talk to him sometimes. He doesn’t really give a shit about anyone or anything besides himself, so why would he need to hide what he actually wants to say?

- Dangerously short temper. It barely takes one nasty remark or even a hint that you have ill intent towards him before the killer is on your ass. Would rather beat the shit out of you than take the time to reconcile.

- A STARER. Has absolutely no remorse when just boring his eyes into someone, eyes wide and horrifying. He loves to watch every expression as he’s ending someone’s life, every bit of anger or fear, but especially the blank stare in their eyes afterward. You catch his glance all the time, and instead of looking away politely like a normal person would, he just smiles as he glares even harder.

- Loves story based video games that Ben shows him. Life is Strange, Night in the Woods, and What Remains of Edith Finch. Has to play them all in their entirety before he can do anything else, so he’ll be glued to the couch for days.

- Has a difficult time with names, so he comes up with nicknames or terms to make it easier. “Twitch” - Toby, “Sockets” - Jack, or “Glitch” - Ben. Don’t worry, he’ll give you one, too.

- A laugher. When he’s in pain, when he’s sad, when he’s happy, that man is laughing. Choked out dry heaving chuckles or tipsy short airheaded giggles, it doesn’t matter, he will be laughing.

- Terrible sleep paralysis and nightmares keep him up during the night, the most sleep this man will ever get is a little over 3 hours. It really doesn’t help his mood, either.

- The scars on his cheeks used to bleed and get infected so bad he could barely shut his mouth due to the swelling. He would numb it down with pain killers and anything he could find, but it wasn’t until Slender tried to make him into a proxy that they eventually sealed and scarred over, creating wide gashes (weird cryptid powers).

- Thinks about his brother every waking moment. He feels so much pent up regret and sadness concerning Liu, but refuses to search for him or even shed a tear. This sends him into mental breakdown episodes, and sadly, the only relief is just to create more carnage.

- Actually really hates violence unless he’s the one delivering it. Doesn’t like violent movies or music because they romanticize everything he hates about himself. Any media he enjoys is either really bland or really toned down, stuff that won’t trigger him.

- Cuts his own hair, and yes, he’s horrible at it.

- Messed up his appearance to make himself ‘beautiful’, but just ended up so disgusted and ashamed of himself in the long run. When his mental fog gets bad, he’ll just stand in front of the mirror and stare at himself, letting every negative thought wash over. Outside, he’ll brandish it like a weapon, something to get victims to submit. But on the inside, it’s just a nasty reminder.

- Showers only when it gets to the uncomfortable point. He doesn’t have the time or energy or wash himself every day, but when it gets to the point he feels the blood and grime subconsciously, he’ll get over it. Even if he does wash himself, half the time actually in the shower is just letting the water run over him and staring at the tile wall.

- Gets all of his money and random trinkets from victims. Proceeds to spend all that money almost immediately after on a pack of Blue Moons. No orange slice, either.

- Messy, disgusting room. Has no healthy habits of keeping him or his space tidy, so it’s always near disastrous.

- Even though the media and lots of outlets perceive him as this insane maniac killer, those were all big stories from his teenage years. Even though he doesn’t feel like he’s matured, he’s definitely found a happy medium away from spree after spree of slaughter. He still itches to take down a whole neighborhood, but he’s found his ways to cope.

- Very good at hand-to-hand combat. He wields a knife if things get a little rough, but prefers to use his hands to do the dirty work. Makes it feel more personal to him.

- Late-night kitchen demon. You’ll find him rummaging the fridge or making a bowl of cereal in the complete darkness, but he’ll swear up and down it wasn’t him.

- Annoying, painfully so. Hell wrack EJ’s ear off or pester Toby about little things, but he can’t help but get giddy when he sees he’s ticked them off just enough.

- Really agile. Had a thinner build, but muscle definition and tension really adds to the aesthetic. Really defined v-line and hips bones, as well as carved out shoulders and collarbones. Looks like a beefier skeleton, but hot.

- Lip piercings. Snake bites. They’re not healed and they’re not pretty, but he thinks they look badass.

- Scars and jagged pieces of flesh everywhere on his body. They’re either from mission aftermaths, rough targets, or his own doing, but they’re all gnarly and barely healed half of the time. They hurt terribly, but he’s constantly cracked out on painkillers that he doesn’t even care anymore.

- Enjoys the shoegaze music genre. Aldn, Wisp, Elita, Deftones, and surprisingly, The Cardigans and The Cranberries. They remind him of his childhood.

Dating Him/SFW:

- “Baby” “Babe��� “Cunt”

- Big words of affirmation guy. He’ll act disgusted and shove you off, rolling his eyes about your sweet words- but in reality, he’s gushing so hard he can’t stand it. Reassurance makes him feel more loved than anything.

- The fastest ‘enemies or lovers’ troupe you’ll ever experience. It’ll only take one face-to-face argument before you both get too close and he’s pulling you in for a rough make out. He’s bad with emotions, what makes you think he wouldn't be bad at reading love/hate signals too.

- HATES to show any sign of weakness or adoration. If you’re laying with him or holding his hand, as soon as someone enters the room he’s shoving you off. It’s not that he doesn’t love you, it’s a deep-rooted fear that someone will use you against him.

- If he’s spent the night in your bed, he will always be gone by the time you’ve woken up. Out of fear of vulnerability, he will only fall asleep after you and wake up before you, otherwise he just won’t stay with you at all.

- He’s like dealing with a little kid. Yes, he’s been through heaps of mental anguish and trauma, but he’s gone through all of that without a hand to hold. In some sad way, he sees something motherly and comforting in you which drives him to latch on and become dependent. It's weird, but so is he.

- Jealousy problems. Big time.

- “He touched you. So I cut his arm off. What is so hard to understand here?”

- Needs to be bossed around. He can and will rot in his bed all day unless you tell him to get up and do something.

- Absolutely melts when you kiss him unprovoked. When he doesn’t force you or tease you into one, but when you decide to kiss his face or hands on your own terms. It’s his favorite thing.

- In his manic brain, he wants something calm, someone who can settle him out. You offer him stability and a chance to unwind and that’s really all he needs.

- As a nervous response, he’ll intentionally push you away if he knows you like him. He holds a lot of regret, so he doesn’t want to drag you along with the rest of his baggage. Will say and do things he knows will hurt your feelings so you leave on your own.

- “And what made you think I’d want you? Because we kissed? Hah! How cute.” Meanwhile, he’s in his room pining himself to shreds.

- Watches you sleep constantly. Doesn’t matter where you are or how far, he will trek through your window or into your bed to watch you snore quietly against your pillow. He likes the vulnerability of it and acting as your ‘protector’, like you have no choice but to rely on him in this state.

- You are the last person Jeff wants to break down in front of, but when it eventually happens, and you’re there with open arms- the killer can barely breathe from how full his heart feels. The feeling of just being able to sob and bury into your shoulder while you rub his back is incomparable.

- Possessive AND protective to a fault. Wants everyone to know you’re his, but at the same time, really enjoys when you flaunt yourself so he can stare down the wandering eyes and really show them who they’d be messing with. Either way, eats it up when you feel good about yourself and safe in him.

- Nasty, terribly toxic relationship. You both bounce off of each other and are constantly arguing, but you both get over it because you’ve grown codependent. There’s nothing ‘casual’ about the two of you, you’re either fuck buddies or desperately clawing at each other for survival. Jeff is an obsessive guy, he either wants everything to do with you or he’ll hide away and tear himself apart over you.

- Jewelry is such a yes for him. If you’re wearing thick earrings or chunky necklaces that brighten your face, he eats it up. He’s such a sucker for silver.

- Does not ask for kisses, he takes them.

- “C’mon baby, I can’t help it. You’re just so fun to mess with.”

- Since he doesn’t sleep much, likes to lay on his back while your head rests on his chest/shoulder. He’ll tangle his fingers through your hair or brush your cheek with his thumb while he stares at you or the ceiling. Even when he has doubts about you loving him, your body always subconsciously shifts towards him while you’re snoozing, and it makes him feel just a little better.

- Fake punches/hits you when he’s bored. Will hold his hands up and box at your face but never making contact, just enough to have you side-eye him. He thinks it’s funny.

- Shoulder kisses.

Dating Him/NSFW:

- Can and will touch you inappropriately no matter the circumstances. His rough hands groping your ass or shoving between your thighs to give flirty little touches in front of everyone, his shit-eating grin when you get embarrassed.

- “Stop glaring, sweet cheeks. I know you want me.”

- Will fight to his dying day that he’s a top, but as soon as you even give him a glint of dominance or snap at him, he’s folding so fast. Dominant person, submissive lover.

- Killing machine on the field, pathetic ass bottom in bed. It takes forever to get to that point, but once he’s mentally checked out and half-drooling on the mattress, he’s so pliable and lightheaded he’ll take it with ease. You have to really work for it, but Jeff trusts you/wants it bad enough subconsciously that he’ll force himself to go into a subspace.

- All-time favorite position is laying you out on your back, one leg up on his shoulder while the other is being held down at your side. It really opens you up and gives the nastiest, most lewd noises that have him pussydrunk. Bonus points for reaching a hand in to choke you.

- “And to think you were beggin’ me to stop while your pussy is soaked. I mean, look at you, babe. You’re suckin’ me in somethin’ awful.”

- CHOKING. Either you or him, he gets off on it so bad. Choking you is so satisfying, he loves the resistance and struggle as you gasp for air, face flushed and eyes rolling with his fist around your throat. Meanwhile, if you’re choking him, his body nearly convulses from the pleasure. He loves the lightheadedness and pressure of it, hoarse chuckles as both of your hands grip around his neck and just squeeze. He thinks he could cum just from being strangled.

- “What’s wrong, baby? Lil’ too much? Ah- You’ll get over it, just open up f’me.”

- Hair pulling, strangling, biting, smacking—really anything that’ll cause pain.

- Standing side-by-side in the mirror, his body is littered with nasty cuts and scars while yours is littered with pretty bite marks and hickeys. He loves it.

- Eating you out is so tiring, but it’s all worth it to look up and see your heavy, glassed-over eyes beaming down at him, lips parted as you’re gasping.

- Hard, quick thrusts that have you gasping and yelping. His hips snap against yours rhythmically until you throw your head back, then he leans in close and shifts his knees closer to really speed up. He never has a set pace, but prefers always adjusting to whatever has you making the most noise.

- “C’mon… Louder- Hah- I’m not stoppin’ till you’re cryin’ for it.”

- A bitch fight every time you two get together. Bickering with the other about ‘who can last longer’ or ‘going until you beg for it’ and it irritates the shit out of both of you. Gets you both riled up that you’re more fighting than fucking, but by the end, you’re both dead exhausted and reduced to panting messed laid out on top of each other.

- Refuses to pull out. He can’t get you pregnant, Slender made sure of that (God help if this heathen was allowed to procreate), so it’s either in your cunt, ass, or mouth, nowhere else. Even if he’s jerking himself off, he’ll wait to cum until he can get to you and finish himself out.

- Stands over you and stares hard enough until you’re reduced to your knees, words never even leaving his lips before you’re unbuckling his belt and shifting his jeans down. He’s fought you enough, sometimes you like to just be good for him.

- Pulling him in by his belt >>>>>>>>>

- Eating you out or sucking you off so much that drool leaks from his scars, eyes so hazed and soft as he hums and moans against you.

- “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

- Fucked you with the handle of his knife because you read something about it in a book and wanted to see if it actually felt good. He was weirded out at first, but when he watched you jerking your hips and mumbling for him to fuck you, he’s never fucked his cock in faster while rubbing the blunt of the handle against your drooling clit. Same thing with running the blade against your skin. It just elicits some reaction out of you that he can’t understand, but it turns him on terribly.

- Has a big thing for cop x prisoner roleplay actually.

- “What? Officer, how am I supposed to finger you with these handcuffs, hm? I guess you’ll just have to let me go, yeah? Or do you not want it as bad as your pussy leads me to believe?”

- Really loves fingering you while he’s buried in your ass. Curling his fingers up to make you arch your back just a little more, having your head spinning from the overstimulation… yeah.

- A 2-3 round champion. He’ll never be able to just cum once and be satisfied, regardless if you’re ready to stop or not, he’s forcing his cock back into wherever it was or in a completely different hole and riding himself out to his next orgasm. If he’s not shaking and on the verge of passing out after sex, it wasn’t good enough for him.

- “Jeff, stop! We could get caught!” “Or you could just shut up and take your panties off. You’re soaked, there’s no point in fighting me when I’m already this hard… C’mon, baby, give me your hand or something…”

Thanks for reading!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Designing the main villains!

I was a bit stumped on what to do with Gunmar and Bular, but some lovely people over on TikTok suggested that Drago and his Bewilderbeast swap places with Gunmar, so I decided to combine the two of them for his design :)

I assigned Bular to switch places with the Red Death since she’s a first movie exclusive character, and Bular is also pretty much a first season exclusive villain (if I’m remembering things correctly ?) Overall the designs actually translated very well into trolls which is awesome. It’s with Bular/RedDeath that Hiccup loses his leg in this AU.

I also worked a bit more on Hiccup’s armour since my previous attempt was a little too bland for my liking. It was a bit of a juggle of trying to make it look more ‘Hiccup’ and Viking-ish, while also trying to maintain that classic sleek clean look of Trollhunter armour.

It was especially hard considering that the Daylight armour is magically summoned, so it wouldn’t really make sense for it to have things like belts or clothing underneath. I made do by just mish mashing a bit of both worlds. The trick was just to add more leather into the design. I’m still not super satisfied with his prosthetic leg though, so I’ll also have to redesign that.

+ And finally a bunch of miscellaneous sketches, ideas, and WIPS on the crossover :

As established before, Fishlegs is taking over the role of both Eli and Toby :) I’d imagine that he hangs out a lot with Blinky at Trollmarket needing out together. He’s taken a strong interest in wanting ALL about Troll culture ever since Hiccup becomes Trollhunter.

I’m not too sure how I want the twins’ backstories should be as Akiridians, since they barely really have one in canon. But so far I got three options :

I do think that when the twins are in their human disguises at school, they immediately latch onto the most interesting person they find, that being Snotlout. They cause him so much grief by annoying him half to death and dragging him into weird situations.

The Zippleback twins are notoriously known for being tricksters who keep stealing jewelry and bedazzling themselves with it. They’re technically banned from Trollmarket but keep somehow appearing anyway, and Vendel has long since given up on trying to find out how and keeping them out

Very random headcanon, but Barf’s real name is Bartholomew, and that’s why people call him Barf. That’s all I had to say.

Someone else on TikTok also just opened my eyes to Wizard Heather. I was initially going to make Dagur a changeling, but I thought it would be infinitely funnier if he was actually just some regular ass guy who EVERYONE thinks is a changeling purely based off his behaviour.

Snotlout is probably going to be an antagonist for a short bit after he finds out about both his and his father’s true nature, because Spitelout convinces him that the Trollhunters are their enemy and Snotlout doesn’t know anything and just assumes he’s telling the truth.

Potential backstory for Hookfang which might end up being too outlandish to use hut whatever : one of the reasons Hookfang is one of the only ones to not care Snotlout is half changeling is because he also used to be part of a Gumm Gumm experiment to combine Stalkling biology with regular Troll biology, which earns him a bit of a bad reputation in Trollmarket. Because of this he lives pretty much on the very outskirts of the market, and understands Snotlout’s struggles.

Anyways! If you read this far congratulations. This is a BIG post and I talk a lot, so thank you for dealing with my crazy ramblings. I’m so happy people actually like my ideas :)

[brixbraxium]

I think the funniest thing about the Mike room is the fact that literally everything the Green Pippins says is true. Like, haha, yeah! look at all the silly parodies of the fan theories! Isn't it crazy how we all made such a big deal out of Mike when he wasn't really that important? Except... Who is he, actually? It's still unexplained. And the Mike room even gives us new pieces of evidence that make the whole thing even weirder. Like, Tenna's known mike "Since TV World":

Which presumably, judging by this vague shuttah dialog implying a massive shift in the landscape:

Means "Ever since Tenna was bought and installed in the Dreemurr Residence", right? But that'd be... well before Tenna met Spamton, since he only met Spamton after Kris and Noelle brought the laptop home:

So unless this happened literally like immediately after the TV was purchased, it seems that Mike isn't, for instance, a Spamton thing Tenna is trying to emulate. But it also can't really be the other way around, because Tenna clearly doesn't know anything about Mike? He gets fooled by three entirely different impostors, and gets pissed if Mike isn't there in his room. Which seems really weird if Tenna is actually in the know. None of the people in TV World have ever seen Mike. AND YET!!!! Spamton is VERY insistent that he knows something they don't;

And this answer is EXTREMELY WEIRD when you think about it, because, while right now it kinda seems like this was foreshadowing for the Mike Room... That doesn't really make sense? In September 2024, CHAPTER 4's main content was completed:

And yet, Pluey- which we now know is related to the Mike Room- wasn't implemented yet.

Pluey only got added in February!!!! The Mike Room content was seemingly quite last minute. And we can be fairly certain that he isn't saying that they still need to implement Pluey for Console versions, because he really made it seem like the only reason the Bonus Room was added was because of the Switch 2:

All together, what that means is... For some reason, even way back in the days of the original Sweepstakes, it was already known to Toby Fox that Tenna's Crew has no clue who Mike is, but Spamton does, even though this information wasn't originally intended to be actually shown to us???

Which makes the Mike stuff even WEIRDER!!! WHO IS HE!? WHY HAS NOBODY EVER SEEN HIM? WHY DOES SPAMTON KNOW WHO HE IS? WHY IS TENNA SO EASILY FOOLED??

WE KNOW THAT HE MUST. EXIST??

IT SEEMS THAT HE IS ACTUALLY OUT THERE DOING STUFF? 'IT JUST SORTA HAPPENS' !?

IS MIKE, LIKE, A SHAPESHIFTER OR SOMETHING!?!?! IT DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE!!!!

But Lo, on Hopes and Dreams they send. Potential for Relevance appears at CH5'S END.

This TV... Surely this TV is relevant to something, it's right there in Flower King, and it isn't really the setup for any jokes or anything. It's just... sitting there. Waiting. My current conspiracy? Mike is relevant to Chapter 5. And, much like King and Queen kind of have a shared history, and Tenna has a history with Queen, Mike (Potentially this TV????) has relevance to Tenna. But the community got way too attached to the idea of Mike in the Ch2 days. That's why Toby needed to clarify via the Sweepstakes that Mike and Tenna were different- because Mike was important. And the reason the Mike room exists is because he was already making bonus content, and figured that he might as well use the opportunity to politely tell us all of our theories were wrong, while also calming us down a bit by making us think that Mike is less relevant than we thought, while also prodding the mystery a little deeper. People will tell me it's cope, that Mike was nothing. But I say all of this as someone who genuinely thought that Mike was Nothing in the Ch2 days. The information we have literally just doesn't make sense. The Pippins' rant is funny, but, it's also entirely true- every single point he makes is accurate, and I don't think that's a mistake. Mike for Chapter 5..?! Trust..

[noctiva]

Inspired by this comment on the first part:

Couldn’t stop thinking about it lmfao so thank you

-

Clouded By The Smoke [Pt. 2/Epilogue]

Toby Rogers x F!Reader [NSFW!]

-

-

Part One

-

WC: 3.4k

Summary: Snapshots in time as you try to convince Toby he’s worthy of being loved. A chronological breakdown of his willpower.

CW: 18+ content, sort of detailed sexual content, biting and marking, dealer!Toby, he’s an ass but he’s aware and feels bad about it, drugging, recreational drug use, addiction, drugs other than weed, toxic relationships, codependency, denial of feelings, angsty angst, hurt + sort of comfort, ‘I can fix him’ ass mindset, but it kinda works, reader deserves better

Reminder to separate reality from fiction! Acts written here aren’t meant to be endorsed or romanticized - be kind to yourself!

-

NSFW under the cut! Minors do not interact!

-

“Do you remember what I said to you, last time I was here?”

It’s a Monday, or maybe it’s a Tuesday - you’re not quite sure. Days seemed to blur together into one big pile of thoughtless mush ever since you met Toby. But, one thing was certain; you were here again. In his room, swaddled in a blanket as you sat curled up on some lumpy old beanbag chair - staring up at him where he sat at his desk.

It was an old thing. Paint flaking off and chips in the wood, stickers plastering almost the entire thing, burn holes from cigarettes littering the spaces in between. He’s busy, listening to you absently, a cigarette dangling precariously out of the corner of his mouth as he works.

It’s a sight that had made you gut twist the first time you sat close by and witnessed it, but now it was just something you had grown accustomed to. Sometimes, it’s weed, sometimes it’s pills. Right now, he’s sat with a scale in front of him, the hood of his sweater pulled over his head as he measures out scoop after scoop of white powder. One gram each, exactly, and then he’s transferring it into a little plastic baggie - sealing it, then tossing it into the little pile he had accumulated next to him thus far.

You watch as he wipes the excess powder off of the scale with his finger, cringe a little when he swipes it across his gums before brushing his hand off against his pants. So casual with it. Like you were the crazy one for abstaining.

“What you s-said to me?” Toby murmurs back to you softly, raising an eyebrow though he doesn’t look at you. “I dunno. You say a-a lot of stupid shit, hard to keep track.”

“Don’t be a dick.” You scoff, lips twitching down into a frown as you tug the blanket further over yourself. You had only smoked a little bit today, not enough to cloud your mind over, certainly not enough to put your thoughts to bed.

“Not being a d-dick.” Toby snorts, before letting out a soft sigh and finally directing his gaze over to you. He leans back in his chair, the beat down furniture creaking under his weight, eyes half lidded where they hone in on you through the strands of his messy hair. “I also say a lot of d-dumb shit. That’s why we’re so g-good together, eh?” His lips stretch up into a lazy little grin, one hand reaching up to adjust the hood of his sweater. “Just t-two fuckin’ idiots.”

Any other time you would’ve laughed and agreed with him, but not right now. Not when your thoughts were so loud that it made your ears ring.

”Toby.” You let out a soft sigh, your eyes tired as you look at him. Really look at him. The freckles that stain the bridge of his nose and trickle down his cheeks, the scars and blemishes, the bags under his eyes - drooping lids with dilated pupils. Hidden under his hood his hair is knotted and unruly, but it's soft, you know it is. “I told you I loved you.” You don't even try to beat around the bush. There’s no point. You feel like ignoring it would hurt just as much as coming clean.

And you’d swear you stopped time for a moment, with the way he froze completely. His body stiffening, jaw tensing up. Eyes going wide in shock for a moment as he stares down at you. Silent for a few moments before he’s raising an eyebrow, eyes narrowing.

”You re-remember that?” He snorts, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m surprised. You were puh-pretty fucked up.”

”I remember because I meant it.” You insist, sitting up a bit, leaning forwards to get closer to him. Or maybe, you were just drawn in by the sweet raspiness of his voice - like a fish snared on a hook, ready to be reeled in. “You know I meant it.”

“No you didn’t.” Again, denying you so easily. Breathed out without an inch of sorrow, like he was just discussing the weather - not the tribulations of your heart.

”I did.” You frown, eyebrows scrunching together. “You can’t just keep denying it like that’ll make it true.”

”Yeah, I can.” Toby shoots you a pointed look out of the corner of his eye before stretching his legs out and using them to roll his chair back closer to his desk. “You d-don’t love me.” Said as a fact. “You wouldn’t even fuck with me at all if I didn’t keep you l-loopy.” He fishes into the front pocket of his hoodie, pulls out that same old grinder he’s had for years, and you let out a soft breath through your nose.

”I would.” You tell him, watching as he unscrews the lid and sets it on his desk. Eyes tracking him the entire time he reaches down to grab the bong that lay in rest on the ground next to his desk. “I’m barely even high right now.”

”Uh huh.” Toby doesn’t sound convinced, his fingers trembling as he scooped up a pinch of herb and packed it down into a bowl. “Well, you should be.”

He doesn’t take the hit himself, just packs the bowl right to the brim then extends the bong out to you - his other hand tossing a lighter into your lap. “Take that, a-and just shut up about it would you?”

And you do.

-

A week later you’re sprawled on his couch. Head on his lap, one of his hands lazily carding through your hair while the other one fiddles with a remote for the game he’s playing on his console. Something low energy, you watch with hazy vision as he places block after block in the Minecraft world he’s been curating for quite a bit now.

There’s a joint between his lips. Puffing on it every now and then just to keep the cherry lit, his eyes focused on the screen before him even as the wisps of smoke obscure his line of vision. He’s shirtless, scars and bruises on full display - things that he never gave you a clear explanation for whenever you asked.

’D-Deal gone wrong.’

’Snagged myself ho-hopping a fence.’

’None of your business.’

You sometimes wondered if he’d ever fully let you in. You always wonder if you’ll ever care that you’re pretty sure the answer is ‘never’.

”Toby.” You murmur to him softly, gazing up at him with hazy eyes. His fingers twitch against your head at the sound of his name on your tongue, before he’s back to moving them through your hair - blunt nails scratching soothingly against your scalp. “I love you.” You try again, wondering if he’ll accept it this time.

And he doesn’t, but close.

”Yeah?” He doesn’t look down at you, just lets out a little hum as his free hand fiddles with the joystick on the controller. The cherry at the end of the joint crackles when he takes a drag, smoke slipping out of his nostrils when he exhales. “What do you l-love about me?”

”You’re sweet.” You hum back to him. “Strong, caring, funny.” His fingers still, and you’d swear his breathing is shakier next time he breathes out. “You take care of me.”

”I make you w-worse.” He corrects you. “I drag you d-down to my level. I don’t know who you th-think I am, but I’m not some fuckin’… Prince Charming.” When he reaches up to pull the joint from his lips, a spot of ash falls right onto your cheek. You don’t even flinch. “It’s bad e-enough you’ve stuck around this long.”

”I like being around you.” You murmur back to him, eyes tracking his every movement when he reaches down to wipe the ash from your cheek, his calloused thumb smoothing against the softness of your skin.

And he chuckles. Soft, mellow, amused.

”You shouldn’t”

But you do.

-

“I love you- Toby, I-“

His fingers dig deep into the soft flesh of your hips, fingernails leaving crescent shaped indents behind now, and surely bruises in the future. His body curled over yours, his chest flush with your back as he presses you down into the mattress. Sweat dripping off of his hair and onto your neck, lips parting in a moan that vibrates against your shoulder.

”I know, I know.” Gritted out like it pains him, his eyebrows furrowed together every time his hips snapped into yours. Actions desperate, needy, selfish in the way he took your body like he owned it. “F-Fuck- I know-“

Your jaw drops slack as drool seeps from your lips and stains his pillow, joining the marks from your mascara that was already smeared there. Sniffling, whimpering, sobbing as his body all but suffocated you - just bordering on the edge of being too much to handle. Overwhelming, disorienting, but he always was. Like those qualities were ingrained into his very essence. “Stupid- So fuckin’ stupid-“ Muttered under his breath, strained and shaky - just barely slipping past your foggy mind. You were too busy trying to remember how to breathe, his words were falling on deaf ears.

But maybe that was a good thing, because you probably would’ve taken it the wrong way.

His teeth scrape against your shoulder before they’re sinking in deep - snarling in a bite that has you choking out a broken cry and jolting beneath him. A stinging ache that made your gut twist, and yet it was welcome. You arched into it, fingers curling into his bedsheets. Grip so tight you might just rip them.

Your body feels like its floating, his body heat melting you into a puddle beneath him. Breaking you down like he always did, reducing you into a mess of sweat and tears he’d have to mop up when it was all over. “S-Say it again-“ Gasped out as he feels you twitch around him, clawing at your hips as he pins you down against the mattress. Near punishing in his actions, not giving you even a second of reprieve even as you struggle to breathe through moans and cries. “Again-“

”I love you-“ Right as you cum. The confession dripping with desperation and desire as you tremble and twitch beneath his scalding hot form. Stars in your eyes, vision blurry, tears wetting your skin as you bury your face in his pillow.

And he just knows you mean it.

-

“C’mere.”

You barely even have a second to respond before Toby’s greedy hands are already grappling at you and scooping you up from where you sat on the floor beside him. Pulling you onto his lap so easily, because your body was still so limp and pliant from whatever he had fed you earlier. Your chest is heaving, breathing ragged and uneven, eyes unfocused and hazy when they drift upwards to look up at him.

And for once in his entire life, he feels bad. “T-Too much?” He asks you softly, lifting both hands to cup your face and try to steady you - his eyes honing in on the sight of you. Flushed and incoherent, your pupils pinned right out when he looks into your eyes. You can’t even focus on him, staring through him rather than at him - like you’re not even there. “Fuck, baby..” He’s muttering out softly, smoothing his thumb across your lower lip, wincing when your mouth drops open and drool wets his fingers. “Hey. T-Talk to me.”

”S’fuckin’…” You sway in his hold, lips stretching into a goofy grin as you lean into his touch. “Can’t- Can’t feel my fuckin’ face.” You snort out a little giggle, wriggling out of his hold to press your face into his neck. So loose and sloppy, like you were melting in his lap.

”Y-Yeah, I bet.” Toby hums softly, reaching up to pet your hair softly as you murmur incoherencies against his skin. It’s gibberish. Just a whole lot of nothing, spit out between snorts of laughter and little hiccups. He can feel your heart beating against his, absolutely slamming against your rib cage. “You-You’re alright though, right?” His other arm wrapping around you, cradling you against him - like he was trying to protect you from the world. Though, he was the real danger, and both of you knew that. “Just re-really fucked up?”

“Really fucked up.” You repeat back to him, words slurred and laced with laughter. Skin sticky with sweat, your hair matted to your forehead.

”Let’s get you s-some water then.” He hums, before standing up and bringing you with him. Easily, letting you cling to him like a koala as his hands slip down to cup the backs of your thighs. Through his apartment he walks, kicking a few empty solo cups out of the way as he makes it to his kitchen.

Grabbing a mug out of the cupboard before setting you on the counter, one hand on your waist to keep you steady while his free hand fills it up at the tap. “Open.” As he presses it to your lips, his eyes soft and fond as he feeds it to you. One gulp after another, his other hand cupping your jaw to keep you from swaying. “Atta girl. Th-There you go.”

“Toby.” You slur out once you're finished, nudging the mug away with your face as you gaze up at him. Glassy and unfocused, but they don’t drift from his face. “I love you.”

Toby lets out a sigh, his expression melting just a little bit more. You thawed him. Chipped and cracked at the ice day after day, never giving up on him, even when he put you in situations like this. Looking up at him like a saviour, even when he was the serpent in the garden.

”I love you too.” He only says it back because he’s sure that you wont remember it at all. Something he could get off of his chest, but easily deny if ever confronted. And it hurt him to say, like pulling teeth the way he had to force the words out of his lungs.

Not because he didn’t mean it.

But because he did.

-

“You-You should stop c-comin’ over here.”

Not inside, but on his front porch. The cool evening air tickling your bare skin each time a breeze ripples past. Toby sits beside you, fiddling with a lighter as he toys with a cigarette between his teeth. “S’not g-good for ya’.” A breath, and then; “I’m not good for ya’.”

”I know.” You don’t even try to fight his words. Try to assure him that he’s not nearly as horrible as he seems to think he is. Because he is, and you both know it. “I still love you though.”

Toby lets out a soft sad laugh. Pained, broken in the way it cracks and shakes. It’s not the sweet, honey-smooth sound you’ve grown accustomed to. It’s hollow and strained. It’s sorrow wearing a disguise of nonchalance.

“You’ve g-got to stop saying that shit.” He breathes out, casting you a sidelong glance before taking a drag. Pulling the smoke into his lungs like the burn might just overpower the ache in his chest. “You’re not benefitting anyone.”

”No?” You watch him, chin resting on your palm, eyes tired and yet they still glitter with adoration. “Then why haven’t you kicked me to the curb, if it annoys you so much?”

Why hadn’t he? The answer was easy. He had told you when you were fucked out of your own mind, too stubborn to let it grace your sober ears. Stubborn, or scared? The more he thought about it, the more it was starting to seem like the latter. You were a comforting constant to him. Someone who was always around, even when he didn't ask for it. Never chastising him, never trying to steer him away. onto some better course of life. Just silently accepting. Picking up all of the flaws he laid out for you and cradling them close to your chest.

You were scary. Terrifying. Because you had done what a lot of people had attempted and failed at. You made him want to be better.

And maybe that wouldn’t have been so bad if you had tried to shove the notion down his throat. Act like everyone else, call him a failure and a waste of space. You didn’t do any of that. You didn’t even try. Just you being around had brought it out in him.

He saw what he was doing to you, what he was doing to this sweet precious life. Tainting it, ruining it. Dragging you down into his depths and drowning you, stealing the air from your lungs while you wore a blissful smile.

It made him want to repent. To ask a god he didn’t even believe in for forgiveness.

Not you, because he knew you’d give it to him in a heartbeat and he didn’t deserve that. He deserved to grovel at your feet, to kiss the ground as you walked out of his life.

“You d-do realize that you could do so much b-better, right?” He asks you softly, his voice low - knowing that if he raised it anymore it would crack. “You shouldn’t settle f-for this. Shouldn’t w-want this. No one should want his.”

”You don’t get it.” You hum back to him, hair blowing him the wind. Soft and feathery. His fingers twitch with the urge to reach out and touch it. “I don’t want this, I want you. Just you. No matter who you are or what you do.” You watch as his fingers tighten their grip on his cigarette, looking damn near close to snapping it in half. “You could be who you are right now, or you could be some fuckin’ big shot CEO and I’d still feel the same. It’s not what you give me, its who you are.”

And how is he supposed to fight with that? How can he argue when you’ve laid it all out clear as day? Spelling out your devotion in a way he could only ever dream to. Eloquent. Brave. And yet he sat beside you with a lump in his throat, rendering him mute.

It takes him a few moments, a stretch of silence settling down over the two of you as his gaze drops down to his feet. Trying to figure out what he could say to even come close to what you had just told him. Wracking his brain, filing through his thoughts and finding the exact same thing spelled out in every single folder.

So eventually, he has no choice but to spit it out.

”I love you too.”

—————————————————————————

Hi lmfao im back at it with this mess. I just could not get this thought out of my head, angsty dealer!toby has my heart and im forcing you all to partake in this with me 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

[asce-of-hearts]

Hii omg i love your content SO much and i was wondering if you could write some nsfw headcanons for toby, masky and jeff with an inexperienced darling who’s all eager to please them :(

Eager

contents: NSFW Headcanons of yan!Ticci Toby, Yan!Masky and Yan!Jeff the Killer with an inexperienced darling who's eager to please them.

more content of Masky and Toby here

more content of Jeff here

TAG LIST

WARNINGS: NON-CON/DUB-CON, YANDERE, KNIFE PLAY FOR JEFF, SORT OF GUN PLAY FOR MASKY, MENTIONS OF VIRGITINY FOR TOBY, NSFW.

Jeffrey Woods - Jeff the Killer

Jeff likes it because it makes him feel in control, and also because in his eyes that gives him permission to do anything he wants with you.

He likes that despite your trembling and whimpering, at how you're crying and trying your hardest not to flinch away from his cruel and bruising touch, you're still eager. Like a kicked puppy, you still look at him with those wide adoring eyes, asking for more even when you don't want to.

Trying your best to stay still as he draws blood out of you with his knife, its the best thing ever. He can cut and carve and mince as much of you as he wants and you won't complain, won't put up a fight.

And if you ever refuse he just has to manipulate and coerce you into agreeing, into thinking your refusal and dismissal of his desires its equivalent to murdering him in cold blood.

He's always very rough and harsh, very mean, very cruel. Not minding when you plead for him to slow down in the softest, meekest voice. He doesn't care, as long as he's getting his pleasure you come in second place.

Doesn't mean he's not grateful. He just doesn't care enough about it to say it. But he loves the way you behave, he loves the way you try.

You're the perfect victim.

Timothy Wright - Masky

Tim is relieved. Saves him the god awful job of having to force you. Not because it would make him guilty, but because having to fuck you while pinning you down or pointing a gun at you seems just so troublesome.

Even if he won't say it out-loud, it's cute, it's cute how you try. How your legs always end up trembling because he makes you ride him and you just want to bounce up and down over his cock faster, or how you gag as you try your best to not choke around his fat cock, or how you tear up as he forces you in the most strange and uncomfortable positions. All in the name of pleasure.

And he's... nice about it. Calling you a useless whore only the first couple of times you're unable to put less than half his dick inside your mouth. Degrading names morph into words of condescending praise whispered at you as he grins and pulls your hair, using you however he pleases.

He's not the best teacher, but not the worst entirely. He takes his time, wanting you to enjoy yourself at least a little bit.

Also because when he tried to shove his cock inside you for the first time without any prep you were so tight he felt like he was fucking a hydraulic press. Mmm-hmm, not the most pleasurable experience for either of you.

He's happy to have you willing to learn what he likes or needs.

Tobias Rogers - Ticci Toby

You're eager? Ha! He's eager!

His heart beats so fast when he sees you naked, he feels like he's going to burst when you kiss him. Too much tongue, and teeth and drool between the both of you, from both parts. You're equally as virginal and inexperienced.

A time of experimentation, even with the pains and embarrassments that come with it. Sessions that can last hour after hour, condom after condom, bed broken after bed broken. Some of those end up without either of you able to cum, others with both of you so overstimulated you feel like you'll die if you have another orgasm.

Very sweet, always mindful of doing his best to make you feel good. Definitely a very reciprocal scenario. He wants to please and you want to please, win-win.

His tics make it hard at times, sometimes you're about to cum and he just has to have a spasm that throws his rhythm off. Or accidentally shoving his cock inside your mouth too fast and too hard due to a tic that seemingly came out of nowhere. As long as you're able to overlook it or laugh it off with him, there should be no bigger issues with that.

hope you enjoyed this!!!!!!

have a great day/night

Like my works? Join the TAG LIST! (please write your @ correctly or else the tag won't work)

TAGGING:

For Jeff: @nenekusanagi @mxqiia @yukimutsu @mamachu @justmare

@artist-in-training-wheels @eroscastle @dollywonyoung @hbk99450 @stranger00001

@kitzusune @lakxcpsta @stardustdreamersisi @coolnekochan9961 @gammysblog 

@oliviathatgirl

For Masky: @nenekusanagi @yukimutsu @mamachu @justmare @eroscastle

@dollywonyoung @strawberries-fluff @stranger00001 @kitzusune @lakxcpsta

@amber8393 @melaniemartinez22  @bloody-noodles @gammysblog  @oliviathatgirl

For Toby: @nenekusanagi @yukimutsu @mamachu @justmare @eroscastle

@dollywonyoung @strawberries-fluff @hbk99450 @stranger00001 @kitzusune

@lakxcpsta @amber8393 @gammysblog  @oliviathatgirl

[xxsinisterbunniexx]

Dating/ Relationship headcannons for eyeless jack? For female reader, please! Thank you!

Haha so like believe it or not I’ve started writing dating headcanons shortly after posting my general NSFW headcanons…. And then I got distracted

Also um so like me when I said I was gonna answer a bunch of requests over spring break and then proceeded to not answer a single one after that…. SO YEAH IM WORKING ON IT

Anyways…

𓆩♡𓆪 Creepypasta boys dating headcanons 𓆩♡𓆪

+love languages as a bonus

Characters: Jeff the Killer, Ticci Toby, Eyeless Jack, BEN drowned, X Virus, Tim/Masky, Brian/Hoodie

Jeff the Killer

☠︎︎ physical touch, he’s very used to touch being used in a negative way, towards him or by him so soft touches would make him melt

☠︎︎ likes to have you in his lap

☠︎︎ like wdym you need a chair he’s right here???

☠︎︎ he flirts with you by being sarcastic and snarky ☠︎︎ so like you might think he hates you at first before you realize he has a crush on you

☠︎︎ not great with his words/expressing his feelings

☠︎︎ you’d need to have thick skin to be with him, because he will definitely say things he doesn’t mean during an argument

☠︎︎ and he LIKES to argue, so if you hate conflict he’s probably not for you

☠︎︎ jealous and a bit possessive too, so you’d have to be careful about how you talk to other people and how often you do so

☠︎︎ he needs a LOT of reassurance and attention but he won’t ask for it directly, he’ll just get snappy and mean without an explanation

☠︎︎ it’s not always obvious why he’s upset so he’d need to be with someone who is both perceptive and patient

☠︎︎ he’s not the best at figuring out why you’re upset, so direct communication is best for him

☠︎︎ ride or die tbh, he doesn’t like very many people so if you’ve somehow wooed him you ain’t ever getting away

Ticci Toby

✘ touchtouchtouch

✘ he can’t feel pain or temperature so he values the things he can feel

✘ his hands are always on you in some capacity

✘ he’ll have his arm around you, he’ll hold your hand, and he LOVES it when you hold his arm

✘ he’ll also bear hug you and pick you up whenever he sees you (and he expects you to run into his arms)

✘ kinda OBNOXIOUS lol, like he’s the type of bf who does shit to annoy you just because he likes to see you get all riled up

✘ pokes your nose, licks your face, bites you, anything to get your attention

✘ no press is bad press

✘ the way he expresses love and affection is… unconventional

✘ like will sometimes just be so over the top and cannot read the situation

✘ he’d be very blunt in how he feels about you and generally is uninhibited when speaking about his feelings

✘ This can sometimes lead to issues so would need thick skin if you’re gonna date him

✘ he’s spontaneous and super energetic so you either need to be someone who can match that energy or super go with the flow

✘ has trouble seeing things from your perspective sometimes, but in an argument he doesn’t get all heated he just shuts down

✘ so he’d definitely do better with someone who’s not very temperamental

✘He’s a wild ride but if you can be down with all he’s got going on, he’ll stay in a long term relationship

Eyeless Jack

𖤐 gifts! He would definitely be bringing you back little trinkets

𖤐 it could be fun and pretty things he’s found while he’s out or little snacks/your favorite drink, etc

𖤐 just anything he can bring you to show you he was thinking of you

𖤐 treats you like you are dainty because he’s scared of breaking you

𖤐 he loves so gently

𖤐 makes sure you know you are valued by him

𖤐 regularly tells you he loves you, that you’re beautiful, he appreciates you

𖤐 plans the cutest dates and really likes to take you out

𖤐 the dates would be super tailored to what you’re into

𖤐 arguments are more like open discussions and he genuinely wants to help you change and grow as a person

𖤐 he’s a bit protective and only slightly jealous, no more than anyone else really

𖤐 he doesn’t want to hold you back in anyway really so he doesn’t often tell you what to do

𖤐 he would do best with someone who’s softer and less judgmental, he has a lot of shame around his eating habits and feeling like a monster

𖤐 he tends to give more than he takes so he’d do better with someone who’s also very generous that way there’d be equal dynamics between you two

BEN drowned

⚠︎ quality time, but not so much in the way of just liking to be around, he likes if you actually make plans to see him, even if it’s just to hang out

⚠︎ loves to play video games with you and he gets competitive

⚠︎ somewhat like Toby he is a little shit!

⚠︎ like he just LOVES to annoy the fuck out of you

⚠︎ he just thinks you’re wayyyy too cute when you’re angry

⚠︎ really likes to show off who he’s with

⚠︎ will buy you clothes, makeup, etc really anything to doll you up and show you off

⚠︎ once you are official he will be telling everyone in the existence of ever

⚠︎ especially because…

⚠︎ he’s SUPER POSSESSIVE like oh god HE’S SICK

⚠︎ like if someone LOOKS at you a little too long he’s got a problem

⚠︎ god forbid someone hits on you

⚠︎ but rather than taking it up with you, he just secretly ruins their life

⚠︎ he may not always be the best partner, he can lack empathy at times and arguments with him are a nightmare because he will twist your words and may manipulate you lightly

⚠︎ will randomly come through when it really matters

⚠︎ would do better with someone who’s (and forgive me here for my choice of word) a bit tsundere-like

⚠︎ he likes someone who takes effort to win over because he loves the chase

⚠︎ he also likes if you’re easy to embarrass or get a reaction out of

⚠︎ your relationship will feel like constant push and pull

X Virus

☣︎ acts of service

☣︎ Cody is a problem solver and will do what he can to make you happy and help you when there’s things troubling you

☣︎ at the same time, he has periods where he gets really invested into what he’s studying and may not pay attention to you for days

☣︎ so if you’re caring and will support him while he gets like that >>>>

☣︎ like bringing him food, helping with his laundry, etc (daily tasks he would need to do but he’s too hyper focused to take care of himself)

☣︎ you may have to convince him to shower during these periods

☣︎ would likely be pretty inexperienced in romance

☣︎ would defo be one of those guys that gets exponentially hotter after getting a girlfriend because she teaches him how to dress and be presentable

☣︎ rambles on about his experiments so you would ideally be a good listener and someone who will engage with him even if you have no idea what he’s talking about

☣︎ not super jealous but has CRAZY accurate senses when it comes to someone actually liking you and subtly flirting with you

☣︎ it’s like a siren goes off in his brain and then he’s like “not that person”

☣︎ pussy whippedddddd like once he’s into you you’ve got him on his KNEES

☣︎ got him opening doors and carrying heavy stuff like shittttttt

Tim/Masky

꩜ acts of service

꩜ Tim is not always the best with his words and can be kind of awkward so he’d rather just do things to show he cares

꩜ protective almost in like a dad way, like would make sure your car had all the fluids and maintenance it needs (can u tell I know nothing about cars)

꩜ or you’d randomly mention something you want and it’ll magically appear

꩜ he’s very practical, so dates and anniversaries are not too over the top, he keeps it simple

꩜ he’d do best with someone who’s more chill and laid back

꩜ he’s slow to open up and not the best at discussing his feelings so someone who is patient & perceptive is better for him

꩜ if it’s cold he always wants you to take his jacket (also loves to see you in it)

꩜Chivalry ain’t dead while he’s around

꩜ doesn’t get jealous often, he’s pretty mature

꩜ he’s very closed off and secretive about the parts of his life that he’s not proud of, so he’d need to be with someone who’s comfortable with not knowing everything

꩜ this also means it would take you a while to meet Masky

☆ Masky isn’t around all that often so you won’t get a ton of attention from him

☆ he views you as more of a pet than a girlfriend

☆ will give you the occasional head pat or say something flirtatious which often borders on sexual harassment

Brian/Hoodie

𖣐 words of affirmation

𖣐 he likes to be told that he is valued!

𖣐 but also loves to compliment you, and he is quite charming

𖣐 LOVES to tease

𖣐 he’s constantly taking pictures of you or recording you

𖣐has a picture of you in his wallet

𖣐 writes you little love notes and hides them in places you’ll find them easily

𖣐 he’s really perceptive so you can’t easily hide your feelings around him

𖣐 he will call bullshit if you try to say “no, I’m not mad” because he KNOWS

𖣐 not really jealous at all tbh

𖣐 if someone hits on you he takes it as a compliment

𖣐 like yeah he knows you’re hot

☹ You don’t see Hoodie for a while

☹ because lowkey he acts like a stalker at first even though you’re dating Brian and therefore also him

☹ he wouldn’t just come up and approach you, he has to be a weirdo and watch you from the shadows

☹ like just come talk to me you freak

☹ he will also leave you letters but they’re a little more sinister than Brian’s and in places that are off putting

☹ eventually he’d approach you, but like Masky he more so sees you as something to toy with rather than a girlfriend (even though his affection for you is definitely deep in there somewhere)

Hope you enjoyed :3

[dreamerimpossible]

His reaction when you say someone else's name during sex.

Warnings: +18 content, unhealthy relationships, mentions of violence, dark content, toxic behavior, threats.

Characters: Jeff the Killer, Masky, Hoodie, Laughing Jack, Ticci Toby.

Jeff the Killer

He covers your mouth and proceeds to fuck you even more violently than before. He chokes you and thinks he's suffocating the person you named. Your legs will shake after that. When he's done, he looks at you angrily; you know he's about to make a jealous scene. There's screaming and abuse. Neither of you can control yourself. He kills the person. You make a scene too; he continues it: there's a lot of stuff lying around. You have hate sex. He makes a jealous scene, then remembering what happened, you get angry and continue the argument. Just a big vicious cycle.

Masky

He stops. He looks at you through his mask. I'd like to say he'd fuck you more violently and get even, but he'd probably get really angry, and that would make him not want to have sex anymore. He yells at you and blames you. Lots of threats and reminders that he has you in his hands to do whatever he wants. He's a scary man. The only way to get him to stop acting like this is to tell him that you don't care if that person dies or not. The next morning you find something meaningful from the other person on your nightstand; you have to hold back your scream; otherwise he'll think you lied to him. Depending on how you react, that will be his reaction. If you have no reaction at all, he'll relax, thinking it was just a little slip-up on your part.

Hoodie

He plays with you. He records you and degrades you. He leaves videos for the person you named to see. The videos are embarrassing, you repeatedly moaning “Hoodie” until your throat hurts and your voice cracks. Your naked body with bruises and scratches. You with your legs spread wide open as Masky and Hoodie take turns fucking you. You in the woods in handcuffs as you sat naked in the grass while he masturbated and you waited for his cum with a fervor absolutely unknown to you. You're begging Hoodie to touch you while he makes you say the dirtiest, most lustful things you've ever heard. You in different positions... I think you get the idea.

Laughing Jack

He'd be amused. He's a sadist. I doubt he'd be interested in sex without some extra incentive. So that just makes things better. Maybe he'll kidnap the guy and tie him to the bleachers as the only spectator of his circus show and force him to watch as he uses you sexually and plays with your body no matter what you say. It all ends in a sordid game of laughing jack, and you frankly think it would have been much better if he just felt jealous. But you know what he's like; you know the boundaries of his sanity have been pushed and taken with him, so you'll probably ask for more and more pain and be glad that the guy is so disgusted watching it.

Ticci Toby

He stops abruptly. Someone could get hurt. You didn’t know who: him, the guy you named, or you. You didn’t know; it depended on how well he processes things. You back away from him slowly, with fine rigor, not letting him see that you’re scared of him. You could see him making confusing decisions in his mind. You can’t do anything but wait and pray that he doesn’t show you his bad side. You avoid explanations; you avoid everything. Any sound. You don’t have to prove that you exist in that room. He doesn’t calm down, but he leaves; he was so angry with you. He doesn’t come back for a few weeks. When he comes back, he expects you to still be sorry and ask for forgiveness. You do. You don’t know if it’s out of fear or love, but you do.

[rottingworship]

Bloodlust

[The Proxies x Reader]

Summary: You, a newly turned vampire, find yourself with a new group of friends. One night, things get dicey, leaving you running. When you are found, you come to the conclusion you are very frustrated. Your new friends are more than willing to help you out.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI! Depictions of murder, blood drinking, biting, praise, vaginal sex, cream pies, oral (male receiving), vaginal fingering, voyeurism, not so healthy relationship dynamics, not beta read (let me know if I missed any!)

Word Count: 7.1k

A/N: They/Them pronouns used for reader, but reader has a vagina. I have a second part of this planned. It will be more rough and definitely not as sweet as this one. I have a lot in mind for Vampire!Reader. The vampires aren't based off any particular media, either. Just a mesh of medias, I guess! this was supposed to be posted in October, but you get it now instead... this was me getting used to writing four characters at once, the next part will be very fun!

Being a vampire is new. Being able to smell everything, hear everything, and see everything is new. Your strength is something you never could have imagined. Sunlight is annoying now, practically burning you. Your body is always cold. You don't have to breathe, but it is something you are still used to doing. And every fucking time you inhale you are greeted with new scents.

Bloodlust though?

That's something you would not wish on your worst enemy. You almost wished you were dead when you woke up from being freshly turned. Or ‘saved’. Your throat was on fire and your entire body burned. Burned for something you did not want, but something you now needed.

Your first kill was horrid. Blood covered you and the victim. You wanted to sob but being a vampire does not let you do such human things.

Now? It's been almost three months since turning, and while you have a dysfunctional but somehow working support system around you, things still suck. Sometimes you wish you had not been spared. You wonder if this is a fate worse than death. But your friends do make it bearable. They keep you fed and do not seem to be judging you when you do happen to get messy. There is only one problem.

They all smell absolutely delicious.

Tim and Brian smell slightly better than your average human. You cannot help but wonder if your brain is playing tricks on you, since you are so close to them. You think that maybe you love them so much they now smell better than most. Toby is a slightly different story. He smells better than anything you can even remember loving as a human. You want to bite him and never let go. Ever. Your brain tells you to attack anytime he enters the room. ‘Latch on and do not release’ is all you seem to hear.

You have yet to have an incident around the men. They are careful with their sharp objects, and you are careful with your sharp teeth. There has been no instance where you have smelled them actively bleeding. Not until Toby decides to get your food by himself.

“Y– You-your eyes are changing.” Toby notices before anyone else. Normally, at least now that you aren't human, your eyes are red. Blood red. When hungry they get darker, until eventually, they are black. “I'll go get-get you some fresh bl-blood.”

He leaves before you can protest. Some time passes, about two hours, and Toby has not returned. He is pretty quick with his outings. You have grown anxious.

“Tim!” You shout as you walk down the hall, “Brian! Toby left and hasn't come back!” Brian's door opens first. Then Tim pokes his head out. You pout at the both of them and wait for them to come out of their rooms.

“Well shit,” Tim starts, “I sure wish we had something better than a bloodhound to find him.”

“Yeah, that'd be fucking insane.” Brian smirks at you.

“Ok, guys, I get it. I can smell him, but-” you fidget slightly, “I don't trust myself.” The mood shifts immediately. They both sigh and step out of their rooms. They meet you in the hall and you let them take the lead. “I can hunt him down. I just need my accountability partners.” You force a smile. You are joking, but only slightly.

“Accountability to not fucking murder Toby?”

“Suck him dry,” Brian laughs, “and not in the way he wants!”

Tim snorts. You blink at them. You stop and cross your arms. “Now is not the time for jokes…”

“I'm really not joking,” Brian shrugs and keeps walking.

You ignore him. A scent like nothing you've ever smelled before hits your nose and you almost moan. You cover your mouth and freeze. Your eyes widen and you look at Tim and Brian. “He's somewhere near.” It's taking all of you to not sprint towards the scent and devour him. “Someone is with him. I can smell more blood, that isn't his.”

Tim mumbles a ‘damn’ under his breath and you begin to take the lead. Toby is obviously hurt somewhere, potentially fighting someone off for you, and you need to find him. And not kill him. As you get closer the smell is taking over everything. A trail of blood appears before you. You stop yourself from figuring out if it is Toby's or whoever else is bleeding with him.

You see it, some man sprawled out, bloody and dying on the fall leaves. You begin to approach the body, hoping that if you feed, the want, no need, to ‘suck Toby dry’ leaves you. You do not get that far. A leaf crunches beside you, and Toby appears. Your head snaps towards him and you inhale sharply, your eyes narrowing. Your fists ball up immediately. He waves at you, says hi, and all you can do is hope you don't pounce. Your eyes scan him, and you see his thigh is slashed.

“Hey,” you hear Tim call your name. Blood is steadily coming from the cut on Toby’s thigh. You see it. Your eyes, dark and full of hunger, do not move from Toby. The need to feed is becoming stronger than the want to keep Toby safe. Toby does not move. It is almost as if he knows he's become the prey. Another crunch of leaves and a hand is grabbing your face. Harshly. “Hey.” Tim sounds much sterner. “Look at me. Focus on me.” Tim’s thumb rests on one cheek while his fingers grip on the other.

“I– I can't.” You want to sob.

“Okay,” Tim nods, “focus on that body.” He points to the twitching body on the ground by your feet.

Without thinking, you drop down on your knees. You grab the body violently; hatchet marks cover them. Your teeth sink into the soft flesh of the neck, and you begin to feed. You let out a low primal growl. Tim, Toby, and Brian, all watching you. Normally, they let you feed in peace. They never had watched you before. And now, here they are, staring at you, the back of your head burning from their stares.

You pull back from the neck and begin to bite and suck down the arm, getting as much ‘food’ as possible. Blood covers you. Your hands, mouth, and throat. By the time you are done you wish to cry. But you cannot. You are stuck, sitting with a bloody, dead body. Your friends are surrounding you. And your bloodlust is still lingering.

You turn towards Toby and watch him closely. Brian seems to have a sort of makeshift tourniquet on Toby’s thigh. The scent is still so strong. Your eyes hit a bloody knife inside the dead man's hand. The one he used to cut Toby.

“Don't-” Brian seems to know what you're looking at; know what you're thinking. You don't listen. Your hand snatches up the knife and you are quick to lick the blood up. Your eyes screw shut and you almost shiver. It is heavenly. It is not enough. Your head snaps towards Toby again and with a speed faster than the others can process, you are on him. He is on the ground faster than he knows it and you are leaning over him.

“Toby–” you growl, teeth gritting together, fangs bared.

“D-do it.”

Tim and Brian are frozen, watching in horror. You are much stronger than the both of them. You are stronger than the three of them put together, there is nothing they can do.

“Go a-ahead.” Toby is smiling under his muzzle. You are straddling him, pressing against his stomach, and your hands holding his shoulders down. You let out an animalistic noise, lowering yourself closer to Toby. His heart is pounding in his chest. He is not afraid though.

Far from it, actually.

It clicks. How he feels clicks in your head, and you are almost sent into a worse frenzy. You let out a strangled groan and leap up from Toby, and tear off deeper into the woods, going the exact opposite direction of your home.

Once your head is finally on straight, and you can think without wanting to murder, you find yourself on the outskirts of the city. Your shirt and pants are slightly ripped up from running through the thickest part of the woods. You, naturally, are unscathed. You cannot bring yourself to go home yet. You cannot hurt Toby. Dried blood covers you. It’s stuck to your skin; you feel it more than ever; painfully aware of how it’s dried and caked onto you in some areas.

You need to stay out of the sight of people, you know this. You don’t think that anyone is going to react normally to you. As you walk beside the almost empty road you look up at the sky. The moon is full; the stars are shining brightly. You sigh. Out of the corner of your eye you see headlights approaching, and they pass you just as quickly as they appeared. You look back at the road ahead of you and wrap your arms around yourself.

You hear tires screeching from behind you and the car that just passed turns back around, heading right for you. You look back at the blinding headlights and realize it is Brian’s car. You scrunch your face. You turn and keep walking. The car comes up beside you, and Brian rolls the window down. He looks over at you, your name rolling off his tongue. You do not look over.

“You aren’t running,” Brian states.

“Thank you for letting me know.” You huff.

“You don’t want to run,” Brian’s words make you stop. He pulls ahead a bit before pulling over on the side of the road. He gets out of the car and approaches you. “Listen,” Brian sighs, “something is going on–”

“No shit!” You snap. If you could, you would be crying right now. Everything is so much; everything is so, so amplified. You do not want to feel the need to eat the people who saved you. But here you are. Even now, you are keeping yourself from inhaling. You know Brian isn’t bleeding, and you are not hungry anymore, but your earlier actions have startled you. “I could have killed Toby! And you wouldn’t have been able to stop me!” You grip yourself tightly, holding your ripped sweater like a lifeline.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Brian comforts you. “You didn’t kill him. Toby really liked that anyway.” He smiles at you. A goofy grin. Your eyes drop to the road, and you instinctively suck in air, and you sigh out in frustration. Brian’s scent floods you. Your eyes look up at him and narrow. “Um,” He wants to take a step back, but he does not, “are you okay?”

Your brows furrow, sadness taking over. “I don’t… I don’t know.” You shake your head. “Brian?” He hums in response, and you continue. “I haven’t told anyone, but the three of you, especially Toby… You all smell different.”

“Like, stinky?” He seems concerned.

“Uh, no.” You laugh nervously. “Opposite, actually.” You rub your arm, comforting yourself. “You and Tim smell a lot better than the normal person, and Toby? He smells absolutely heavenly. That’s why I nearly lost it earlier. He smelled way better than that person he had handpicked for me to feed from. I can smell you guys even when you aren’t bleeding. It’s a lot. But bearable. I didn’t realize how much active bleeding would amplify it.”

“You didn’t realize?” Brian asks. “It’s out, it’s going to smell better. I would assume.”

“I know!” You want to yell. “I didn’t think… I’m just– Ugh!” You throw your hands up and walk past Brian, heading back towards the unknown.

Brian groans, spins around, and grabs you. “Stop.” You do not pull away. “You aren’t running, once again, you don’t want to run. If you did, you’d be gone by now. Look,” Brian stays where he is; behind you, holding your arm. You peek over your shoulder at him. “I know you don’t want to leave-”

“I have nowhere else to go.”

“That’s not the only reason you stay.”

“I don’t know why you came out here. I just tried to fucking kill Toby. He could have died, and so could you.”

“I’m here because we obviously want you around. You’re going through something, and we are not going to just let you leave because of that.”

You deadpan, “I’m also useful to you guys, and The Operator. I know that’s why I’m kept around. I’m surprised he didn’t try to stop me when I left.” You roll your eyes.

“Come on.” Brian maneuvers around you, “I can’t lie, you are useful. But you’re also kind and funny. And really hot.” Brian shrugs. “So,” he motions towards the car, “please get in the car and come back with me.”

You blink at him, baffled. “Hot?” You almost scream. “What the fuck!?” You throw your hands up again. Brian is caught off guard. You let out a loud groan and debate on flipping his car and leaving. You look towards the car and back at Brian.

“What are you thinking…?” Brian is cautious.

“I'm just frustrated!” You do scream this time. Eyes shut tight and fists balled.

Brian takes a moment before speaking. “Sexually?” He asks, completely nonchalant.

“Maybe!” You look at him, huffing. “Maybe…” You speak a little quieter. You throw your head back and whine. “I just need to shower…”

Brian motions towards the car again. “You can do that at home.” Home. You freeze. It is your home. It has been for a few months now. You, in discomfort, make a face at Brian. He groans, “What now?”

“How do you trust me? I don’t want to hurt you…”

“You won’t.” Brian begins to walk towards the car. “Now come on.”

You are stuck. “Really, why do you think I wouldn’t hurt you?”

“Because I trust you, let’s go.” As soon as Brian says this, you shake your head. You need more answers. “I see the way you stare at us; you won’t hurt us.”

You look up at the sky, “Not intentionally-” Your nose burns. You inhale slowly and the feeling of wanting to pounce is returning. You look back at Brian and see him approaching you, a cut across his palm. He’s holding his hand up and out, his palm facing upwards. You are frozen, fighting the urge to destroy him. “Brian,” You whisper, eyes narrowing, “What are you-”

“I’m showing you something.”

“What if I kill you…?” You take a step back and he keeps on walking. He reaches you, his hand going towards you. “Brian, I’m being so fucking serious… I can’t control-”

“You aren’t starving anymore. You won’t hurt me. You can control it. You did earlier with Toby, and I don’t smell as good as him-”

“Brian…” You can’t look away from his cut. “Can I-”

“Go ahead.”

You, realizing how much stronger you are than him, make sure to gently grab his hand. You are thinking everything over a million times before you do it. The world is spinning and standing still at the same time. Brian is right, you are not starving, so you should not want to absolutely murder him. But you have not tested your self control to this level before. Your tongue runs up his palm and you feel Brian shiver. Your eyes shut and your fangs scrape his skin, ever so gently.

You let out a muffled moan as you slowly suck on the wound. Brian’s knees buckle. His hand tenses and you freeze. You do not want to pull away, your instincts are telling you to continue to drain him. But who you used to be is telling you to let him go. Your grip on him tightens as you battle with yourself. Then you hear Brian stifle a groan.

Immediately, you release him. You pull back and look at him with wild, animalistic eyes. You cock your head at him and wipe your mouth. “Sorry, are you alright?”

Brian nods, “More than alright…” He pauses briefly, “That’s not going to turn me, is it?”

You shake your head. “No, it will not. Did that hurt?” You bite the inside of your lip. “Because I've only ever killed people when feeding… And those people are most definitely not enjoying it.” You laugh.

“It, uh,” Brian is thinking, searching for the right words, “it felt good. It stung at first, but when you started to… ‘feed’, it felt amazing.”

You nod at him. “That makes sense. The man that turned me into a vampire, um, he said that” you gather your thoughts, “when one feeds from a human, there is a sort of like… Chemical, maybe? That will react with the human's blood, making them feel good. So, they don’t fight back as much. But it doesn’t turn the person. That is the actual ‘vampire venom’ that does that, but that burns. I know that from experience. The one that makes you feel good though? That wears off, eventually. Especially before death.”

“That would have been good to know before we almost killed your victims for you.” Brian smiles at you. “Can we go back now?”

“Sure, I guess.” You look at the wound again. “Let me fix that first.” You tear the hem of your already ripped sweater, getting just enough of the fabric to bandage his hand. You quickly wrap it up and pat it. “The feeling of pain will come back soon; we need to get home.”

The both of you make it to the car. You sit in the passenger seat, watching the road ahead of you, even if you are not even moving yet. Brian sits down and shifts. You inhale; you smell it again. Arousal. You know it isn’t your own. You are aroused as well though. You lick your lips and Brian’s blood is still on them, you grumble. You need more of him. You refrain. You rub your hands down your thighs; you are becoming antsy. Your brain is having a hard time wrapping around everything that is happening.

A hand is placed on yours. You look over at Brian, he gives you a reassuring smile. You bite the inside of your lip and calm down. You smile back at Brian and relax in the seat. Brian starts the car and as soon as the key is turned over his hand is on your thigh. You look over at him and wish for him to move his hand up. Further up your leg. You briefly think about moving his hand up your thigh, but before you can, Brian speaks up.

“I know that look in your eyes.” His eyes are back on the road; he doesn’t even look back over at you as he squeezes your thigh. “You’re about to do something.” He laughs. “You’re all bloody right now though. How about, after you get home and shower, we can… fix your frustrations.”

“I would like that.” You nod slowly. Getting home cannot come fast enough.

The rest of the ride is pretty quiet. The radio is turned down, so there is no noise. Brian’s hand is stuck to your thigh, squeezing it every once in a while. You have to hold back a moan. You want to latch onto Brian for a much different reason now.

He pulls up to the house and you jump out of the car. You shut the door and rush inside, scurrying to grab your things and jump into the shower. As you turn on the water, you hear Brian come into the house, you hear Tim ask him what happened. You hear Toby’s door open. You hear everything over the rushing water.

You try to not eavesdrop, but it is truly so hard when you can hear them like they are next to you. You hum softly, hoping your noise cancels out their speaking. It does not.

“What happened to your hand?” Tim asks Brian, and then quickly asks where you are.

“They’re showering.” It is all he gives his friend.

“What happened t-to your h-hand?” Toby sounds irritated.

Brian knows must know you can hear them. He says to ask you when you get out. How polite. You wash yourself as quickly as possible, and step out of the shower. You hear them start talking again.

“How did you find them?”

“Bloody, on the side of the road.” Brian starts. “We had a nice talk, and they vented their frustrations to me.” Okay, he knows I can hear him, you think to yourself.

“Wh-what kind of frustrations?” Toby asks. “Sexual?”

How the fuck do they all know? You want to scream. There is no response. You are certain Brian nodded at Toby. You get dressed and walk from the bathroom, take your clothes to the laundry closet, you hear mumbling, low and quiet. You can barely make out what they are saying. They immediately shut up as you walk in. You cross your arms and look at the three all standing around each other. They all turn to you at the same time, eyes boring into you. You want to scream.

“What the fuck did you say?” You look at Brian with confusion. You roll your eyes when there is no answer. “Why are you all three standing there… Conspiring against me?”

“Oh!” Toby smiles at you. With his muzzle off, his grin is frightening, leaving your stomach flipping. “I-I would say it’s the opposite of con-conspiring against you, dear.”

You are stuck. Toby is the first to step towards you. He’s wearing a black tank top and gray sweatpants. His cut has been bandaged completely; you can tell because the scent of his blood is not as strong as it was before. He still smells so good though, you are sure you are going to lose your mind.

“What happened to Brian’s hand?” Tim asks, snapping you out of your trance.

You look at Brian for reassurance. He nods, giving you the okay to share what happened. You look back at Tim. “He was proving a point to me,” You start, “that I can control myself.” Toby loses it. He twitches and his jaw clenches, before relaxing and he finally speaks. “You-you drank fr-from, from him?” He narrows his eyes at you, pointing at Brian.

“Yes.”

“And it was fucking hot!” Brian boasts.

You groan, placing your face in your hands. “Today's been a lot,” You are suddenly rethinking the earlier proposal from Brian. “I'm sure you are all tired–”

“No.” They all speak at once. Then Brian takes over the conversation. “We don't have to do this. But, I want you to know, we are here for you. No matter what you need.”

No matter what you need. There are heavy implications behind that. You can feel them. How he holds himself says it all. Tim and Toby seemingly agree. Toby is biting at the fucking bit to get to you; you can feel it. He is holding himself back extremely well. He shifts and you inhale slowly. They are all so aroused. Your jaw clenches and your eyes shut tight. You need to think.

“I've never done this.” You open your eyes and stare at the three of them. Toby’s head tilts and you notice his hand twitch. He is excited. “Had a threesome. I mean, I haven't done anything since being turned. What if I hurt one of you?”

“You-You won't. If you d-do, we-well we ha-have a wooden ste-steak.”

“You'd put me down? Just like that!?” You almost scream at him. Toby finds it funny.  You roll your eyes and cross your arms. “Really…” You stomp your foot a little bit. “I would not be able to live with myself if I accidently hurt one of you. And also, how are you going to decide who goes first?” You cock a brow at them.

“Me! M-Me! Brian got lu-lucky already, it's m-my turn!” Toby almost launches himself at you.

“Oh! So what am I? Chopped liver?” Tim grunts.

You have never had this much attention. It almost sends you into a spiral. “I promise, you'll all get a turn!” You put your hands up and speak without thinking. This ignites a fire in the men that is worse than whatever was going on before. They look like they are going to go absolutely mad to get to you. Toby immediately reaches for you. Without missing a beat, you are on the other side of the couch, staring at them.

“Ah,” You click your tongue. It clicks how much power you have at this moment. “I want to go over ground rules before we start this.” They all nod eagerly at you. “I need you all to tell me if it's too much. If I'm holding you too tightly or draining too much blood.”

“That it?” Tim crosses his arms at you.

You tap your chin. “I heal really quickly. Bite me, leave hickeys, do whatever. But–” You put a finger up, “Nothing too violent. I'm afraid if you happen to hit me I won't stop draining your blood. And then I'll have to face something I'd rather not even look at.”

“Sounds good enough.” Brian nods.

“Now,” You bite the inside of your lip, “I want to try something, if you're okay with it Toby?” He is the most excited. “I'll need my accountability partners here with me though.” You smile at Tim and Brian. They agree. “I want to taste you, if you're okay with that?” You know his answer. You need it verbalized.

“Y-yes! I tho-thought you wo-would never ask!”

“What am I supposed to do? If you start killing him?” Tim seems curious. More curious than concerned.

“I don't know!” You smile at them, shrugging. “Do you want to do this out here? Or on a bed?”

Toby sits on the couch and excitedly pats his lap. “H-Here. Th-the couch.” You nod. You stalk towards him, the thought of feeding from him is doing something for you. You stop in front of him.

“Toby?” Your eyes move from his eyes to his thigh, back to his eyes. Toby hums in response, slightly agitated you have not sat on his lap yet. “Um,” You purse your lips, “You don’t mind being, uh, naked in front of your friends do you?”

Toby laughs. “No.” His answer is short and sweet.

“Okay,” You nod, “take your pants off.”

Toby obliges. “Th-thought you w-would n-never ask.” He slides his sweats off, and he is not wearing any underwear. You bite your lip, seeing his cock is already hard. You drop to your knees immediately and scoot completely up to him. Toby’s hand instinctively rubs at his cock as you situate yourself, precum dripping from the head.

You grip the couch cushion and look at the bandage on Toby’s thigh. “Mind if I-”

“Please,” Toby whines. “Do so-something. I’m-I’m begg-ing.”

You rip the bandage away and stare at the wound momentarily. It definitely is not as bad as it seemed earlier. Your pupils are dilated, and you look up at Toby, wide eyes watching him, waiting for consent to go wild on his wound. You cannot even muster the will to ask if you can, you lick your lips and as soon as the brunette nods at you, your grip tightens on the couch cushions.

You know if you grab his legs you are going to bruise him. You do not take into consideration he would like that. Your eyes shut and you lick a stripe across the cut. You moan. Loudly, you moan into his thigh. One of the cushions pops under your white-knuckled grip. Foam comes out from between your fingers and Toby whimpers. This sends you into a fucking frenzy.

You let out a low, primal growl. Your eyes shoot open and meet Toby’s. His hand is working on his cock, stroking it. Tim and Brian are standing behind the couch, watching you become feral looking. They are turned on too. You can smell arousal all around the room.

“Bite- Bite me.”

You smile against his skin. You oblige. What sort of person could deny such an airy, whiny request? Not you, that is for sure.

Your eyes stay on Toby’s; you do not look away. Your fangs gently sink into his skin, and you let out a low groan. Fuck. You are not sure if you can let go now. You do not want to. Your tongue laps up the blood, and you begin to suck on the place you just bit. Your eyes shut, a shiver going down your spine, and your hand grabs Toby’s thigh.

Your nails dig into the skin. Toby shifts and you know he cannot feel the pain, but you do not want to cause any harm to him. But, at the same time, you want to drain him dry. He tastes divine.

“Do you feel it?” Brian asks, voice low. “The euphoria?” His hand is on the back of the couch; he is looking right at Toby.

Toby moans, and then softly whines. “Y-Yes.”

While Brian is asking Toby that question. Tim is focused on you. While it is completely sexy what you are doing, he does not want Toby dying. Tim says your name, trying to catch your attention, but you do not immediately pull away. Tim walks from around the couch and his hand hits your shoulder. A possessive growl escapes you. Tim does not falter. He snatches your shoulder back and you release Toby. Ready to latch onto whatever is stopping you. You do not register it as Tim at first. Just some threat stopping you from feeding.

“Hey,” Tim’s voice is low and stern. “You drank enough.”

Red warmth covers your mouth, throat, and chest. Your fangs are bared at Tim and your grip is tight on Toby’s thigh. Tim grabs your face and lowers himself to your level. You are still on your knees.

“You know,” He starts, “I’d kiss you right now, if you weren’t covered in Toby’s blood…”

This snaps you out of it. You pause briefly. Your eyes are back to normal, pupils blown from ecstasy. “You would?” Your face softens.

“Come- Come on!” Toby groans. “Thi-This dick is-isn’t g-gonna suck itself.”

You look back at him and bite the inside of your lip. Tim releases your face and shoos you back to Toby. You crawl back to him, resuming your earlier position.

“I would like to note,” You start, “I have not sucked dick since getting fangs. I’m so sorry if-”

“Don’t be.” Toby swallows hard. “Pl-Please, just- just do s-something.”

You licked over the wound, hoping to stop the bleeding long enough to get Toby off. He can take care of it after you are done with him. You wipe your mouth with your hand, quickly wiping the blood away. One of your hands rests on Toby’s thigh and the other goes towards his cock. Toby twitches as you touch him. He whimpers again as you touch him. You gently pump up and down and place your mouth over the tip. You begin to take him into your mouth, and you quickly realize you do not have a gag reflex anymore.

Your eyes open and look up at Toby. He is watching you closely, not daring to look away. “Keep- Keep looking at m-me.”

His voice is whiny, but he sounds so demanding at the same time. You follow his instructions. You moan as you suck his dick, head bobbing up and down. Your eyes don’t break away from Toby’s. One of your hands goes towards the heat between your legs. You moan again as you touch yourself.

Toby is slowly coming undone. Your pace on Toby picks up as your thumb finds your clit. It is becoming difficult, keeping up with everything. Making sure you do not hurt Toby, bringing yourself pleasure, and making Toby feel good. It is all so much.

“I’m-” Toby’s voice is airy, “-close.”

Toby has been restrained, but as soon as your eyes shut, ecstasy close to washing over you, Toby seems to sense that. His hips begin to buck into you; your hand was not there to restrain that. You gasp, shocked at the sudden movement, and your eyes open back up, wide and full of surprise.

Toby releases into your mouth. You, without thinking, swallow. You pull back from Toby and let out a growl. “Toby! I was close too! Now I’m just aching-”

“That was hot.” Brian interrupts you.

You stand up from Toby and look at Brian. Your eyes narrow and you huff. “Oh it would have been so much hotter if I got to come too!”

“I can fix that,” Tim takes a step closer to you. “Plus, I’m the only one who you haven’t fed from. You aren’t full, are you?”

Your eyes darken and you smile at him, “Of course not, Tim.” You realize just how bloody you are from Toby and pause. “Let me at least clean this blood off.”

Tim nods. As you walk to the bathroom, Tim follows you. You grab a washcloth and wet it. You take your shirt off, and Tim’s eyes wander to your chest. You are wearing nothing under your shirt. Tim does not say a word as he watches you clean up. He only watches. You watch him from the mirror. As your hand rubs the cloth across your skin, his eyes follow. Your movements are slow and meticulous. You smile at him, while looking at the mirror, as his eyes come back up to yours.

As you put the washcloth in the dirty clothes, you look at Tim. “What did you have in mind?”

“Let’s go to my bedroom.” He looks ravenous. You feel the way he looks.

You grab his hand and follow behind him as he leads you to the bedroom. Brian and Toby seem to hear you and begin to make their way to the room as well. You look back and see Toby is wearing his pants again, his wound most likely bandaged… again. Tim does not give you time to think about Toby’s blood. You are pushed against the wall, opposite of the door, and you look at Tim with surprise.

“Can I drink from you?” You give him a soft smile.

“Please,” He groans. You nod, excitedly, and you grab Tim’s shoulders and pull him closer. You begin to kiss at his neck. You kiss down the spot you want to bite. The spot where you can feel his pulse racing. He is not nervous though. He does not feel nervous at all.

 Before you bite him, Tim’s hands are wandering up and down your body. His hands tracing your cold skin, his fingers pinching at your nipples, before finally traveling to your waistband. As he pulls at the waistband of your pants, your teeth sink into his neck. He freezes up momentarily. You smirk against his skin. He feels it.

Tim grips your hip and his hand slides past the waistband, easily finding your pussy. He moans out as you slowly suck on his skin. He does not falter as you continue, his fingers pushing past your folds and into your entrance.

He begins to pump in and out, slowly at first. His thumb finds your clit and it is your turn to freeze up. Tim smiles and lets out a laugh. “How does it feel?” He coos at you. You lap at his neck and pull back. “How does it feel, them watching us?” Tim's head tilts. Your eyes move from Tim and towards Toby and Brian. You let out a whine, and Tim’s thumb grazes over your clit again.

“Feels good-” You look back at Tim. You clench around his fingers and Tim smiles.

“Want me to fuck you in front of them?”

You cannot answer. You only nod. Tim, noticing you are not as messy as you were with your earlier feeding, kisses you. His tongue slips into your mouth and his fingers work on you until you are coming undone. You clench around him again and moan into Tim’s mouth. Your hips buck into his hand and your legs are turning to jelly.

Tim pulls back and removes his hands from your pants. Your eyes open and you give him a confused look. He slides his belt off and you stand there, still slightly disoriented.

“Im going to fuck you, remember?” He says it so nonchalantly. Oh yeah. You nod but still just stand there. “Do you want me to do that with your pants on?” He questions you.

Oh… You are embarrassed now. If heat could rush to your cheeks, you would be on fire. You huff and slide your pants and underwear off. You stand uncomfortably for a moment. Your eyes look back at Toby and Brian. They are watching you, only you. You feel so small under their gaze. And for a moment, you forget how strong you are. You forget you could have the upper hand at any given moment.

“You still okay?” Tim asks.

You nod. “Just getting comfortable.”

“We have all night, sweetheart,” He is standing only in his underwear now.

“And all of tomorrow.” Brian smiles.

“Y-yeah.” Toby speaks up. “You-You can’t g-go out during th-the day.”

He has a point. “I think you three will not last all night and tomorrow with me.”

“That a challenge?” Tim asks, his brow cocking.

You shrug. “You three are humans, and I am not. I have pretty much endless stamina.”

“That’s a challenge.” Brian smirks.

You look at Tim, “Please, just fuck me.”

“Of course.” He smiles.

Tim is out of his underwear and on you in seconds. You are flush with the wall, and Tim is pressed against you. His hand grabs at your thigh, and you wrap it around his waist. Tim’s cock pushes into you and you groan. He lets out a low moan and you hear his heart rate pick up. Your hands are on his shoulders, and you press your forehead to his. Your arms wrap around his neck and refrain from scratching his back. You are still learning your own strength.

In no time, Tim is pumping in and out of you. Your hips are chasing his every time he pulls away and his hands are gripping you tightly. His bruising grip does not let up, it only becomes tighter as you moan and whine for him.

“Tim,” You cry out, “I’m-”

Tim’s pace quickens but is still not sloppy. His movements are thought out and nowhere near sloppy. The sound of him fucking you fills the room, and for you it is only amplified. You can feel, hear, and smell everything way better than when you were human. It is making you come quicker.

“Where can I-?”

Tim starts, and you do not let him finish. “Inside.” You huff out, “can’t get pregnant.”

That is all the reassurance he seems to need. Everything in you becomes tense. You are starting to see stars. As you come, so does Tim. He releases inside of you. You are nowhere near done though.

“Brian,” You lean your head back against the wall, Tim pulls away, his come is spilling out of you. Brian perks up. “Lay on the bed please. Preferably not clothed.” Brian is quick to undress and get on the bed. He is hard, seems to have been since you drank from him earlier. You bounce back fast and go towards the end of the bed. “Mind if I ride you?”

He shakes his head. “Do whatever you want to me.”

You nod. You get on the bed and crawl up towards Brian, straddling him. You hover above his cock and place one of your hands on his chest. “Let me know if it’s too much.”

“It won’t be.”

You nod. You place yourself on his cock and begin to move slowly. You begin to bounce, your pace becoming steady. You are slow at first. Brian grabs your hips with his hands. His grip is about as strong as Tim’s. It is fueling you. You lean forward slightly, one hand still on Brian’s chest, and the other grabbing the headboard.

It is becoming a lot for you. All the sensations are so much. The sound of your skin smacking against his, the feeling of Tim and Toby watching you, and the smell of blood and arousal in the room.

Brian’s hands guide you, almost forcing you to go faster. Figuring that must be what he wants, you pick up the speed. Your nails dig into the wood of the headboard, scratching the polished surface.

“Fuck!” Brian hisses out. “Just like that. You’re so good-” He reassures you.

You lean forward slightly, beginning to see stars again. “Shit!” You cry. “I can’t-” You make sure to not push down on his chest. Instead, you put all of your strength into the hand grabbing the headboard. You hear it snap as Brian comes inside of you. You do not immediately get off of him. Your fingers are digging into the splintered wood as your pace finally slows.

“Fuck,” You pull your hand from the headboard. “I’m so… Damn, I’m sorry.” You lean against Brian as you come back down from your high and you huff.

“You broke my headboard.” Tim sounds unamused.

“And- And the co-couch is fucked too.” Toby mentions, causing you to groan.

Brian��s arms wrap around you, and he laughs. “Come on guys, they’re still learning their own strength.”

“Yeah!” You snap back. “You’re all lucky I didn’t hurt any of you… More than I may have…” Brian’s hand rubs up and down your back. “As much as I would love to sit here, I need to clean up. And you three probably need to take some Motrin or something. Those bites will hurt soon.”

You push yourself up and begin to walk towards the bathroom. As you are leaving the room, Toby starts to speak to Brian and Tim. You ignore it, since he seems to be talking to them, and not you. You tune out what he is talking about and begin to clean yourself up. Again.

As you slide into the hot shower all you can think about is the new relationship forming between the four of you. You sigh and relax in the water. You do not have a care in the world, not even to Toby is talking about just outside in the room across the hall. All that matters is you have three people who seem to accept you. Even if you are some bloodlust ridden creature.

[kar-a-kael]

Meta-wise, this is the most hilarious fight in the series, if you think about it. It's between

The two most retconned characters using

Knowledge neither should have and

3. The most b.s. powers in the series

to argue/paper over 4. The most uncomfortable realities of the Naruto world.

[darlingdreadwrites]

Playing House

pairing: Ticci Toby x GN!Reader

summary: Another victim, another free place to stay. Toby decides to make this house a home with you.

contains: fluff, kisses, angst, tobias “malewife” erin rogers, established relationship

warning: 18+ suggestive themes, light smut under red divider (mostly dry humping), name calling

word count: 3k

masterlist

a.n: I MISSED WRITING I MISSED TOBY!!!! im giddy as FUCK uploading this

Toby had made an offhand joke last night. One that hadn’t hit you even as you wrapped the body, or even as he kissed you so sweetly before bed. “This could be a good home,” he’d said. You were too preoccupied swatting his hand away from your ass to see the genuine fondness behind that smile.

Well, you did have to stay here for a couple days. And despite the mess you two made during the attack (no thanks to Tobias), it was the homiest place either of you had ever been. Neither of you could remember what a home was, but you could guess this was pretty close. It was clearly lived in – there were trinkets dusty with memories, and pictured remnants of a once full family.

But your heart nearly drops to your ass the second you smell something burnt. Sitting upright, your hand reaches blindly for the hunting knife under your pillow. Your eyes snap in search of Toby, mind racing through every possibility. It’s still dark, even as a speck of sunlight hits your cheek.

This guy had no living family, you tell yourself.

But there is someone clanking things together in the kitchen. Was the information you received about the victim wrong, and he did have a family?

Or – even worse – he had come back to life.

“Good morn—”

Thwack – the blade hits the doorframe just next to the head of an unbothered Toby.

“—ing, huh-honey!” he beams, holding a stack of charred pancakes on a floral plate.

He’s wearing a frilly apron over his usual hoodie – stained cuffs and all. You’re reigning in that shake from your survival instincts before you can fully connect the dots on what the fuck was happening. Toby cooking. Toby calling you honey. Toby wearing an apron. Toby waking up before you?

“Why are you a housewife?” You can’t help but ask, voice still a little shaky.

“Just trying this place out.” He shrugs. He’d said it so plainly – like you two were playing house at every home you’d broken into.

But in reality, none of this is normal. At least, it isn’t normal for you two. These extended jobs would usually end after the second night after some stealing or even fooling around. You didn’t think twice about it at this point. These people were dead, most of their items had no use to you, and neither of you had ever used the stove. It is beyond stupid to leave evidence of further life after the death of a homeowner.

But the rustling of the duvet being pulled down by your boyfriend has brought you back. He is still beaming (and you’d just noticed he wasn’t wearing his mask or goggles) and holding up his mountain of pancakes like a prize.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” you lament as the realization that you’d have to leave the most comfortable mattress you’ve ever been on hits you.

His grin only widens, blinking rapidly. “What, cuh-can’t a wife… make breakfast for her-her hardworking spouse?”

“You’re my wife now?”

“Uh. Duh.”

You don’t question it – you can’t. Because something about this display is way too endearing for you to really complain about. He kissed your cheek when you finally had the strength to get out of bed, and led you to the mess he’d made in the kitchen. You take and eat as much of the burnt pancakes that your body allows. And to your surprise – and dismay – watch as he takes out a carton of eggs. Like the pancakes weren’t already a nightmare to swallow, you sigh internally. You insisted on letting you help him, and he only obliged if you taught him how to do it himself… while hugging him from behind. And, yeah, you got elbowed a few times thanks to his tics, but it was still… sweet.

And when everything was settled – five ruined eggs later – you two sat at the small table in the kitchen.

“We’ll have to burn some documents today,” you remind him, stabbing at the yolk. “Saw some blood on the mantlepiece, but, otherwise, clean-up will be—”

“You m—… mean house chores?”

Easy, you want to correct him. It took you a second to realize he meant he wanted to call the usual routine of cleaning up evidence house chores.

Your lips twitch, and you try to tone down the dryness in your tone when you reply. “‘House chores?’ Yeah, we can call them ‘house chores.’”

You really tried, but Toby still caught on to the way your shoulders shook with barely contained laughter.

He scoffs, eyes narrowing and lips parting. “I sl-slave over a hot stove, make your-your eggs sunny-side up like you like ‘em—”

“I never said I liked them that way.”

“You do n—… now.”

You push the last unidentifiable chunk of burnt pancake or egg around your plate, eyeing him. His grin is all teeth, chin tucked down like he’s waiting for you to admit something.

“I’m begging you,” you mutter, dropping your fork. “Don’t ever cook again.”

Toby gasps, clasping a hand to his chest at your insult to his very honor.

You snort and lean forward to kiss the pout off his face, ignoring the crumb at the corner of his mouth. He still tastes faintly like syrup and smoke. His tics make the moment stutter – shoulders twitching, head giving a sharp jerk – but you just kiss through it.

After breakfast, you both move into your so-called “house chores.” The body’s already starting to smell from the corner you’d left him in, so you get to work. Toby hovers at the edge of the living room, head tilted, watching you drag the tarp with practiced ease.

“Need huh-help with that?” he asks, strangely sheepish.

You glance up from where you’re crouched. “I wouldn’t want my wife getting dirty.”

Toby grumbles something, but the way his ears flush pink says enough. He grumbles all the way to the window instead, broom in hand.

“Fuckin’ raccoons,” he mutters under his breath as he starts sweeping up the glass.

You don’t have the heart to correct the story he’s decided on. The dead man in the tarp certainly isn’t going to argue. And, honestly, it’s easier to get through the day when you treat it like a bit. Toby’s always been good at that – leaning into the performance of it all. Like if he laughs while scrubbing blood off the floor, it’s not really there. Like if he calls it “spring cleaning,” then the fireplace isn’t currently burning someone’s mortgage, passport, and evidence that could lead to public discovery of that T̷̡̠̥͓̠̲͇̏H̴̳̥̝́̽I̶̢̮̙̥̘̹̩̰͙͒͒̏̽͋͠ͅN̶̛̼̋̄͆͌͜͝G̶̡͇̝̠̬̖̺͓͔̼͒̂̓̎͊͝ ̵̱͈̞̼̺̩̙͙̐͑̿T̶̛̳̰̳͚̬̩̲̕͜͠ͅȨ̶̡̼͇̱̣͋̇̆́̽̑̕͠͝T̴͈̹̈́͗̽̎̓͋̍͘H̸̭̬̽́̅̉͋͆͝͝E̸̫͔͈̥̥̘̳̔͝͝͝R̸̛̝̮̾̓͆̆̀̂̈́E̷̮̱̜̮͎̠̪̹̺̊͑̈̓D̵̥̱̬̮̦̂͒͋͒̑̾͑̄ͅ ̶̮̠͈̳̈́̉̑̀̉͘͜͝͠͝T̵̢̝̮̼̳̠̝̉ͅO̶̪̻̱͉͓͑͛̃̐̓͌̒̓̽̈́͜ͅ ̵̢̢͔̲̺̓̇̔̉̒̆͜Y̸̹̯̱̖͕̋Ơ��̲̳͉̝̺̳̟̏̆́̔͜Ů̷̜̩͛̓́̀Ŕ̴̡̓̽͒̌̉̽̊̎̈́ ̴̛̥͋͛̉̓̒͗͒͠S̵̡͔̖̰̹̮͕̅̓̈́̊̃Ǒ̵̢̖̤͙͉̲̹̕͠U̵̢͈̟̜͉̓̈́̕L̵̨̡̬̭̠͓̩̼̑̿̀S̸̳͈͉͕̈́͐͊.

Toby glances over at you every few minutes, face glowing like he’s waiting to be praised. Every time you pass each other, it’s always something new.

“Don’t forget the-the receipts, babe,” he calls, flicking an old envelope into the fire. “You know we duh-don’t wanna… get audited.”

“Right,” you reply sarcastically.

Later, as you’re scrubbing the mantlepiece, you hear him behind you.

“If I m—… mop the floor, he starts casually, “do I get a kuh-kiss on the cheek like a-a good little homemaker?”

You turn and are met with him batting his lashes, his lips puckered shamelessly. You want to shove his face away and laugh out a “You’re unwell,” but you let him have you anyway.

You walk over, pressing a brief kiss to his cheek, and mutter, “You’re dumb.”

“Kn-knew you loved me,” he says way too loud.

But the next time you catch him in the kitchen, he seemed to suspend his performance. He stands quietly near the sink, staring down into a chipped porcelain mug. His thumb moves slowly across the faded floral print. He follows the raised vines like they’ll reveal whatever question floats in his mind.

You don’t say anything. You just watch him trace something he can’t quite name, remembering a version of a life he never got. And how badly he wants this one to be real.

The bathroom is too small for the both of you, especially like this – half-naked, damp with sweat, hunched over the porcelain tub. The only light comes from the flickering fixture above the mirror, just enough to catch the faint red stains swirling through the suds. The blood’s mostly out of your clothes now… mostly.

Toby’s hoodie and undershirt are bunched in the corner of the tub, soaked and marbled with pink foam. His cargo pants are hung above your heads to dry, leaving him in a pair of dark boxers hanging low on his hips. Your knees and middle are sore from leaning over the edge, fingers raw from all the scrubbing and chemicals. Still, you work in tandem. Even as he (after giving up) perches awkwardly on the closed toilet lid, legs spread like he owns the place.

It’s gross – humid – quiet, save for the soft splash of water and Toby’s occasional vocal tic.

“M-missed a spot,” he says at one point, voice light. He points to a dark red smeak near the armpit of your hoodie.

“You gonna do it?” you ask without looking up.

“Nope,” he chirps. “Wife’s off duty.”

You huff out a laugh, and it echoes strangely between you. The walls are too close, the air too still. The mirror – fogged-over – watched you both like an eye that’s seen far too much.

Eventually, the tub’s full of pale pink water, and the worst of the stains are gone – at least enough to pass. You wring out the final shirt, your hands aching from the cold, and drape it across the bent shower rod.

And now… you wait.

Toby stands slowly, joints cracking. His skin is pale, mottled in places, and scabbed in others. You sit side-by-side on the edge of the tub, damp knees bumping once, twice. And, for a while, it’s quiet.

You’re not even sure why you say it.

Maybe it’s that hanging silence, or it’s the surreal feeling settling over your skin like a second layer. It’s wet fabric clinging to damp flesh – a reminder that the blood on your clothes was real, that someone died here, that your boyfriend is humming under his breath in a dead man’s house and calling himself your wife. Maybe it’s the way Toby keeps glancing at the mirror like he’s waiting to see something reflected that isn’t there.

Or maybe it’s the fact that you can see him clinging to this fantasy with a grip so tight it’s starting to leave marks.

You say it – you can’t wait any longer.

“You know this isn’t real, right?”

Toby’s still smiling, lips curled up at the corners and twitching more obviously where his gash exposes most of his teeth. It’s like you’d just told a joke he already knew the punchline to. But then it falters – barely, but it does. A flicker. Another twitch. It’s enough to expose the frayed edge underneath his composure. Like something inside him just tore a little.

His voice, when he speaks, is too soft to be teasing. “Why not?”

It has you hesitating. “Toby…”

He shifts on the lip of the tub, spine going ramrod straight, his shoulders pulled tight like a puppet’s. his fingers flex and curl against his thighs. The smile’s still there – but now it looks too sharp and stretched beyond his left cheek. It’s not quite manic or performative, just wrong. It’s a mask that’s beginning to peel away from the skin.

And when he looks at you – eyes wide – his whole body trembles. Not with the erratic tics and spasms that come and go without warning, but something quieter. It quakes beneath the surface, too deliberate to be a symptom.

It’s not his body reacting – it’s him.

He leans in, breath ghosting your jaw. He’s close enough you can feel the heat from his skin, close enough to smell the scorched sugar from those god-awful pancakes. His voice is low and trembling.

“Doesn’t… doesn’t it f-feel… good pretending?”

And – fuck – it does.

You want to deny it. You want to remind yourself what you’ve done, what he’s done, what you’re passed the point of. But the lie is too sweet. It’s in the softness of his hands when he passed you the dish soap. It’s in the way the fireplace crackled when you burned old bank statements together. It’s in the way his thumb lingered on that mug when you caught him.

It’s in the way he tucked you into bed last night with a soft kiss not meant as a joke.

You look around; the damp clothes, the ruined bath, the sound of water dripping from the tap into the silence. And it does feel good – horrible, fake, beautiful.

The quiet. The clean floors. The mattress with just enough give to feel like comfort. Toby sweeping up glass. The apron. The kisses. The food you choked down on because he made it with a kind of sincerity that frightened you more than his violence ever could.

It’s twisted. It’s yours.

He watches you now like a stray waiting to be told to leave. His beautiful brown eyes are hooded now, his chin tilted up just enough, waiting patiently for a slap or the meeting of your lips. Because if you say the wrong thing, he could vanish in a puff of smoke – or worse, he’ll stay and never quite come back from where he’s gone in his head.

You swallow down the lump in your throat.

“Let’s go to bed, honey.” It’s silly as it whispers out of your lips, like you were some husband in a sitcom.

But that’s all it takes.

His hands find your face, his fingers too rough and clumsy from years of scar tissue and nerve damage. He can’t feel the heat in your skin, but he whimpers against your lips like he can. His lips crash into yours, crooked and open and too wet. Your teeth knock, tongues licking into each other. All need, no finesse. Like he’s been married to you for decades and just clawed his way out of the grave to find you again. He’s not kissing you; he’s devouring you – starved of you. His hands grab at your shoulders, your waist, your arms, like he’s checking for seams. Like if he finds a zipper, he’ll uncover this moment was just a costume. You know he’d be devastated if it were true, but it’s the morbid curiosity of the moment. You feel his chest shake as he presses against you, and you don’t know if he’s laughing or sobbing.

You nearly trip over a towel trying to stand, and he’s already pulling at you, pulling you out of the bathroom by your wrist. You’re leaving wet footprints in your wake, and you don’t even make it to the bedroom before a folding table buckles under your backs as you slam into it. The collision sends a stack of unopened letters fluttering to the ground.

Toby doesn’t stop kissing you. His mouth is frantic, wet, bordering on painful with the way he’s gripping your face like it’s the last solid thing ina  burning building. His breath comes ragged, nose brushing yours, moaning softly into your lips every time your hips shift and something presses against him just right.

His hips rut into you – again, again – like he doesn’t know what else to do. Not even with any rhythm, just pure instinct. Just needing to feel you, push into you, smear himself over you like he can fuse your skin to his and finally be safe somewhere. He fumbles at your waist, then your chest, then your hair. His twitchy fingers dragging, grabbing, squeezing you. He wants to touch everything at once and has no idea where to start.

You gasp when his teeth catches your lip too hard, and he jerks back instantly, pupils blown.

“Shit—s-sorry—fuck—I’ve never… done this as a wuh-wife before.”

“You’re terrible at it,” you manage to whisper, smiling and flushed from the sting and the heat coiling between your legs.

“Rude,” he pants. “Ungrateful bastard.”

You bark out a laugh, somehwhere caught in a moan and a choke. He groans, crashing his mouth back into yours like your laughter drew him in. You’re not sure if he wants to shove something down your throat or take something out at the same time.

He presses his forehead to yours – shuddering – and you feel his fingers twitch where they’ve curled into your damp waistband. His voice is unsteady, stuttering even in his breathing. He murmurs something that could’ve been your name, another apology, or a curse. But he lowers his mouth to your throat all the same.

Every kiss is hot and open-mouthed, dragging along your skin as if attempting to warm you from the outside in. His tongue flicks against your collarbone, glides up to your jaw, then back down to leave little gasps and twitches in his wake. He bites, then soothes, then kisses.

Your hips grind together – slow, awkward, messy. There’s not enough friction, and yet it’s still too much. You can feel him through his boxers, already straining, rutting into the thin fabric between you with mindless, embarrassing desperation. He pants your name into your neck.

“I’d-I’d be s-s-so good at it,” he whispers hoarsely, stammering. “If we h-had a real p—… place. If we ev-ever got out.”

You already are, you almost tell him.

Because he’s a mess above you, his body trembling with effort, his voice caught between sobs and laughter, mouthing at your skin like he can leave marks until the world is something better. For just a second, you believe it’s real. That Toby is really all yours, and you can go wherever you two decide. You can get that dog he’s always wanted. You can let him kiss you into embarrassment in public. You could get married at a stupid young age, or maybe even not ever. You’d have all the time in the world that you pretended you had now.

Pretending hurts less than the truth. And isn’t that obvious? Toby sure seemed to master it.

And you love him for that. For all of it.

For now, it’s enough to let him keep going. To push his boxers down his thighs and hiss against his mouth. To guide his hand between your legs and let him touch you like he’d learned to. And when you arch up and shudder, he sobs your name like he’s dying with you.

Maybe he is, and maybe he will.

[rainrot4me]

It's been kind of stormy (like flash floods and tornado warnings kind) where I'm at and so I was wondering how you HC Toby, Jeff, Tim, etc during one of those huge (and scary) thunderstorms?

Ahh! Stay safe!!

── .✦

✦ . jeff the killer

Thrives in the chaos.

Jeff is unbothered by the storm—actually, he kind of loves it. The power outages, the flickering lightning, the chance to wander outside when everyone else is hiding? That’s his kind of night.

He might disappear during the worst of it just to roam around and “enjoy the ambience,” but if you’re scared, he’ll post up on the couch with you, arms thrown behind his head, acting all nonchalant.

“What? It’s just rain. Chill. Unless you want me to tell you the story of the last time lightning hit a guy’s spine. That one’s real fun.”

✦ . ticci toby

High anxiety, low sleep.

Loud thunder and intense wind? It sets him off. His senses are already heightened, so the constant pressure, flashes, and rumbles make it hard for him to relax. He paces. Taps. Fidgets like crazy.

You’ll likely find him on the floor with his hoodie over his head, chewing on a hoodie string or knuckles tapping fast. He won’t admit he’s scared—but if you hold his hand? He’ll squeeze back.

“I’m not scared, it’s j-just loud. And fa-fast. And my heart’s doing that thing again. Sh-Shut up. Don’t laugh.”

✦ . eyeless jack

Oddly calm, almost serene.

Jack gets quiet and reflective when storms hit. He doesn’t mind them—it reminds him of being human. Of long nights stuck indoors. If you’re afraid, he’ll sit with you and talk in that deep, soothing voice.

Blankets, low light, the sound of rain drumming against the windows—he becomes surprisingly gentle during these moments. If you can’t sleep, he’ll read aloud or just hold you while the storm passes.

“It’s only water and pressure. Let it pass. I’ve weathered worse. You’re safe here.”

✦ . masky (tim wright)

Overly alert, stress levels high.

Thunderstorms make Tim hypervigilant. He’s constantly checking windows, unplugging appliances, walking the perimeter. It’s less about fear and more about control—he needs to do something to soothe all the anxious energy.

If you’re scared, he’ll bring you to the safest corner of the house, hand you water, and wrap an arm around you without saying much. It’s protective instinct kicking in.

“We’re good. Power’s out? Fine. Got flashlights, got food. You? You’re staying right here, with me.”

✦ . hoodie (brian thomas)

Ghost mode.

Brian becomes quiet and watchful during storms. He’s used to navigating in the dark and doesn’t mind a power outage—it gives him an excuse to slow down. You’ll usually find him on the porch.

He’ll sit beside you with a candle lit, sipping coffee, letting you curl up under his hoodie if the sound is overwhelming. If there’s a tornado warning, he’s already got the emergency kit packed.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you. If we need to move, I’ll let you know. Just breathe. We’re okay.”

✦ . kate the chaser

Tense but collected.

Kate’s fight-or-flight is always close to the surface. A massive storm doesn’t scare her—but it does put her on high alert. She’ll take care of what needs to be done, snapping orders if needed.

If you’re visibly upset, she’ll settle in next to you and let you cling. She won’t admit it, but your fear makes her softer.

“I’ll keep watch. You sleep. If anything gets too close, I’ll be sure to get us out.”

✦ . ben drowned

Annoyed and glitchy.

Ben is furious when the power goes out because—no WiFi. No console. No screens. The storm fries his nerves, especially if there’s flickering that disrupts his internal “frequency.”

He might pace like a cat, trying to distract himself with cards or dumb games on his phone. But if you’re scared? He’ll roll his eyes and pull you close, muttering about how “it’s just wind” while secretly comforting you. If lightning ever hits, it’s fun to watch his pixels spazz out for a minute.

“Ugh. I swear if this storm bricks my backup files again, I’m gonna scream. But yeah, sure, come here. I’ll keep you warm—whatever.”

✦ . clockwork

Calm, focused, takes charge.

Natalie has that calm, “big sister energy” when things go bad. She immediately makes sure everyone’s okay—locates batteries, locks windows, pulls you away from anything dangerous.

You won’t even realize how scared you are until she’s got your face cupped in her hands, checking your eyes and making you sit down and breathe.

“Storms come and go, baby. But I don’t. Sit tight. I’ve got this. You just stick with me, okay?”

✦ . laughing jack

Unpredictable.

Jack either loves storms because they’re loud, theatrical, and chaotic—or he goes eerily silent and curls up in a corner like a traumatized cat.

If it’s one of his good days, he’ll be watching the lightning flash like it’s fireworks, making jokes to calm you down. On bad days? He needs the affection. Needs you grounding him.

“Boom! Nature’s having a tantrum! …What, scared? I’ll hold your hand if you hold mine, sweetheart.”

✦ . slenderman

Completely unbothered, weirdly serene.

The storm doesn’t touch him. The wind won’t enter his forest unless he wills it. But if you’re affected, he will appear silently beside you, energy swirling slightly, and place a hand on your back.

He won’t speak unless necessary. He simply exists as a protective presence—watching, listening, shielding.

“Rest. I will not allow the world to harm you tonight.”

꩜ .ᐟ