Oooo I Wanna Write A TicciWork Fanfic So Bad But Ive Never Written A Full Story Before A Shame Truly

Oooo I wanna write a TicciWork fanfic so bad but Ive never written a full story before… A shame truly…

LEAVE ME ALONE IM IN THE HOSPITAL FROM BEING HIT BY A HUGE MASSIVE TRUCK OOOOO IM SO SORE OOOOO IT HURTS SO BAD OOOOO

Hi guys I unfortunately got hit by a truck so Im going to be (rightfully so) procrastinating and slacking on writing the AU ☹️ Please wish me well in my recovery of getting hit by a really big truck and wish me lots of rest and no writing thank you

THE MILITARY MAN .

Brian Thomas was something of a social butterfly, a mans man. He raised by his father, Robert Thomas, in Auburn, Alabama. In his early years Brian was a friendly, outgoing boy who took on a lot of Roberts ideals and values.

Robert was a veteran who served 10 long years in the military. He had a wide range of knowledge on topics such as weaponry, cryptography, and was a rather disciplined man. As an excitable young boy, Brian would sit by the elders side as stories of war, brotherhood and triumph encompassed his developing mind. The strict, yet good man his father was paved a clear road of friendliness, assertiveness, and firm handshakes for the boy. Cryptology was an interest that Brian picked up from Robert, learning morse code and phonetic alphabet by heart.

In high school, he would begin to develop a keen interest in psychology, interested in how the mind works and how to guide patients through hard times. Deep empathy for others came natural as he would stay true to his fathers teachings of respect, kindness, and maturity in all situations. Brian was an outgoing, charismatic boy with a witty sense of humour. He was the type to light up a room with a clever one-liner or a bright smile. The boy had a good head on his shoulders, and his good grades proved he had a remarkable grasp on the world and his place in it.

After graduation, Brian moved to Tuscaloosa, Alabama where he began working towards a bachelors degree in psychology, and minoring in video production. It was at the University of Alabama where he met Tim Wright, and later an ambitious man named Alex Kralie. During the summer of ‘96, when Brian was 18 years old and in his first year of university, he and his friend Tim joined a cast for a student film called Marble Hornets, filmed and directed by Kralie himself.

Brian would spend 7 long, torturous years falling into the hands of a deep, unshakable sickness from that point on. It started out with a boy blinded with innocence, such a hopeful view on the world, a future to strive towards. His memorable grin would soon fade as he fell victim to a series of gruesome and violent incidents between the unfortunate cast; the main perpetrator being an entity far beyond the groups comprehension. It strung Brian and his peers up and forced their bloody hands like a parasitic puppeteer.

At the end of those seven torturous years, Brian was left alone with a horribly bruised spine from a fall, two dead friends, and blood on his hands. Life would never be the same, and now he was nothing more but a conduit for the strange entities motives, if it had any to begin with. As far as anyone, including his father, was concerned, Brian Thomas was dead. And while he still walked the earth as nothing but a shell of a man, he certainly felt that way.

His optimism and boyish enthusiasm faded through years of torment and harsh lessons from unreality, to be replaced with a much colder, vengeful side. Brian would dance with criminals, tango with killers. He would put on a face, the Hooded Man, or Hoodie, to protect his real identity and possibly to make the cruel persona a bit more real. He did what needed to be done, and a good, friendly person he was no longer.

Brian Thomas continued his life holding the values of his father close to his nearly unbeating heart. And while now he was a monster by any definition, he stayed true to his word, and his handshakes were always firm. This is the life the man would make for himself, carrying the weight of the sickness and the underground on his sore back. This was all that was left after the war, if he ever had gotten out of it.

I HOPE YOU GET TBONED BY A SEMI TRUCK MAY

Hi guys I unfortunately got hit by a truck so Im going to be (rightfully so) procrastinating and slacking on writing the AU ☹️ Please wish me well in my recovery of getting hit by a really big truck and wish me lots of rest and no writing thank you

Natalie Ouellette

Natalie Ouellette was never a prominent character.

She never took up space and her presence was hardly ever known.

She didn’t intentionally hide in the shadows, but she sought comfort in them.

Though those who got close enough, would know that she wasn’t all what she seemed to be.

Hell, she had hardly known herself.

That was until now.

Heavy eyes bore into the tainted reflection.

The scene displayed was truly a disturbing sight, but not to her.

Her blood which resembled the deep red of carnations, flowed freely and gracefully down her chin.

Soft drips sounded in the bathroom sink. Those to which resembled ones of a broken faucet, or at least that’s what her mother heard.

That was until her mother was met with the ghastly sight.

By then a blood curdling scream erupted the older woman’s throat. Pure horror and a tint of disgust displayed upon her aged face, her mouth agape with a trembling hand lightly grazing her lips.

The younger was far too immersed in the tainted reflection to notice though.

How silly, she thought.

Only in her own suffrage and mass hysteria, she could find peace.

“Reblog if your account is a safespace for ___”

NO. My account is a safespace for NO ONE. I hope whenever you see me post you are filled with FEAR. This is a DANGER SPACE.