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MASKY FAN FICTION?!?!?

I dare you to write NSFW hcs 😈 (I love your work by the way <3)

i wrote this instead of getting ready for work >;3 took me a long time too (still not great at writing smut and i need to figure out the tags help are these okay idk) but it is done and i hope im feeding you guys well <33 i didnt write headcanons because i wanted to try something else but i think thats alright haha - - - - - - - -

! - MDNI - !

smut drabbles

features: slenderman, eyeless jack, jeff the killer, timothy w. [masky], brian t. [hoodie], ticci toby [seperate]

reader: pronouns not specified but female anatomy described

! warnings: shameless smut, monsterfucking, restraints, tentacles, rough sex, premature ejaculation, some other things that are less 'severe'

...

SLENDERMAN

Sitting in Slenderman’s lap, barely clothed at all, while he watches you get off on his spindly thighs with wild abandon. Your bright blush spreads down your body with every movement that denounces his own godhood, degrading him to be nothing more than your mere sex toy – and he loves it. He’s so powerful, so deadly, yet you are the only one in this world whom he would kneel for. You deserve pleasure and he takes great pride in your shared… creativity in the bedroom.

You don’t even register the booming voice echoing through your mind while black tendrils sneak up your bouncing body to grasp at every bit of your exposed skin and tug you further into his being, to make it seem as though you can be one.

“Trust me, my love.”

And he can’t help but preen at the sight of you clenching around nothing when one of his tentacles prods at your entrance, eyes closed and only thinking of him.

EYELESS JACK

“I know it’s a lot… You’re doing so well for me.”

You felt like you were being cut wide open with the way Jack was impaling you on his girth. No amount of foreplay, which he had mastered by now, could ever prepare you for the intrusion of his cock. Every time he retracted himself to push himself just an inch further into your pussy he let out a groan, sweat collecting at the tip of his nose before it dripped down onto you. You wouldn’t ever be able to decipher the look in his empty eye sockets, so deeply black that they peered right into his stained soul, but you knew that he looked at you with so much love that it was worth it.

“Fuck-”

A growl escaped his throat once he bottomed out inside of you, his hips meeting yours… You felt his tip kiss your cervix with every experimentally shallow thrust he offered in apology for his heavy shaft, kissing you deeply to make you feel better and let you brace yourself for his full strength.

It’s not like you could ever be mad at him anyway, but you appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

JEFFREY WOODS

Jeff would push your face down into the mattress by the back of your skull, effectively choking you without putting his hands anywhere near your throat. That wicked grin he flashed you from behind once he tugged you back into him… you having to arch your back by the way he grips onto your hair as he takes you from behind. You never kept up with the sway of his hips and you were always reminded of just how strong he really was even though he didn’t exactly take the best care of his health…

His thick arms caged you in from behind as he adjusted the angle of his cock pointedly hitting all those sensitive parts within you.

“I should fucking punish you for ruining me, fuck.”

His heavy breaths made it quite obvious that he exerted himself to no end just to hold his brutal pace.

“Take you with me everywhere I go, show you off-”

He pushed you back down, effectively fucking you into the bed and hammering the headboard into the wall that seemed to slowly crumble away with every thrust.

“Fuck you until you’re obsessed with me.”

TIMOTHY WRIGHT [MASKY]

“Haaaah… more?”

Tim groaned deeply as soon as he heard your pleas for him to quicken his thrusts, to take you just a little harder. He was a slave to your words, looking down at your trembling form with a fire in his usually kind eyes. Whenever Tim looked at you, it was filled with adoration and he seemed to have this quaint glow around him in your proximity, but when he took you to bed, he became another person indeed.

He wanted you with so much fervor that his enthusiasm consumed you whole sometimes, willing to push yourself to your own limits just to see him lose it…

“I- ah! I love you.” Tim choked on his own saliva as your legs gently circled his thick waist, drawing him even closer to you and locking him in place. His face fell into the junction of your neck and shoulder, breathing heavily to contain himself.

He was mewling in pleasure, grunting at every drag of his heavy cock, but you knew that you fucked up when you felt a dark chuckle against your sweaty skin.

“Knew you just needed to be fucked by me, you dirty, little whore.”

Fuck, Masky…

BRIAN THOMAS [HOODIE]

“He always prepares you so well, sweetheart. Makin’ me lose my goddamn mind.”

Hoodie had been toying with you for hours… Or what felt like hours, surely. Worst thing was that he never meant for you to be so overstimulated… He just does what he does best – loving you, gently and thoroughly. Now that you’re dealing with Brian, however,… his tone of voice might have been just as delicate as Hoodie’s actions, but the former liked to order you around and make you fall apart for him.

“On your knees. That’s it, pretty… So sweet. Look at you.”

He held onto the waistband of your underwear before letting it snap back against your skin sharply, earning a light hiss from you as you were forced to sit in a puddle of your own fluids. He just smirked down at you.

“Made for me.”

Brian circled around you like a predator, occasionally caressing your warm cheeks and pressing a kiss against the crown of your head.

Sitting down on the bed, he slapped his clothed thighs with a wolfish grin.

“Come to Daddy.”

TOBIAS E. ROGERS

“Just the tip, please– please–”

Toby squeezed you just a little tighter than what would have been acceptable, but you found it endearing to have him so desperate under you. Your folds were coating his bright pink length in your juices, which had him thinking that you were finally ready to ride him, but he cannot deny that he loved it when you made him beg for it.

He didn’t know his own strength, but he knew that he could easily overpower you anytime. Somehow it was way hotter to hand the control over to you. Most of the time anyway.

You kissed him passionately, hands wandering down his lean body, fingers caressing every crevice and scar, but just when he thought that you were about to touch him, you lifted yourself off his lap to slam down on his cock.

And after all that teasing, Toby just couldn’t hold it in any longer…

“F-Fuck! O-oh my fucking God, I c-can’t, I fucking can’t!”

But he did like seeing his cum drip out of you.

masky pride pfps :]

proxy twitter au part 6

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Tag list:

@vanillawurld @mossygremlinchild

Hello :) I plan on writing a creepypasta fanfiction, currently I'm just gathering different information on certain topics. Typical fanfic writer things.

This fic will be posted on A03, Quotev, and maybe Tumblr as well. So far I have nothing planned out other than the general idea I want and some original characters. I was just wondering since the creepypasta fandom is deprived from actual good fanfics and not the ones written in like 2013 with shit grammar and terrible characterization 😭

What would you like to see in the fic? Please drop ideas or anything that bugs you when reading a creepypasta fanfiction. I'd like to make this as perfect as possible. Of course it won't be as amazing as 'spill your guts' or 'this apartment has horrors in it' or 'delirium' (WHICH ARE ALL AMAZING CREEPYPASTA FANFICS YOU SHOULD DEFINITELY READ THEM IF YOU HAVENT !!) but I want it to be my best work.

Currently suffering from writer's block...I'm still working on the fic but I can't find the motivation to write anything ┐⁠(⁠ ⁠˘⁠_⁠˘⁠)⁠┌ maybe if I open up requests I can force myself to actually write something instead of just staring at my drafts for 15 minutes straight and then exiting the notes app with zero progress. I'll make a pinned post soon about the things I can and can't write ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡ don't let me down guys.

Wait guys do you prefer the Slender-mansion au or should I just write the main proxies? I don't know if I should write those three or is it better to include more of the well-known creepypasta characters ૮꒰ྀི ◡ ˶ ◡ ꒱ྀི১

Hello again! Its me the one who requested the proxies with a forest ranger S/o

I sawed your post and kinda went 😮 when I found out forest rangers and fire looksouts aren’t the same thing too ngl. I originally got the idea when I watched/played ‘Fears to fathom: Ironbark lookout’. I actually looked it up and I guess the correct term would be “Park ranger” (I still don’t know bro I could be wrong) but I originally got the idea from the fears to fathom so I guess you could kinda base it off that (minus the cult) but I just thought it would be a cool idea. Like for example on the fire watch aspect, Tim is chronic Smoker and Toby is canonically a pyromaniac (idk about brain in this situation) so like Tim could be smoking or toby could be setting something on fire and you would be side eyeing tf out of them. OR, You could just be trying to peacefully sleep in your watch tower (assuming there is one) and One of them would be knocking at your damn door/window in the dead ass of the night and your just there either terrified, confused, or annoyed (its up to your interpretation).

But anyway sorry for the ramble and confusion, As always I appreciate you and hope you have a wonderful day (remember to drink water) buh/bye now <3

(♡) Authors note; in my old author's note I literally said it was inspired byironbark lookout but then I hesitated bcs I thought it wasn't what you're looking for. good thing I didn't delete the previous work :3 SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT I DIDN'T HAVE ANY MOTIVATION TO WRITE ANYTHING :(

HOODIE;

-before the relationship between you two, he knew about your job as a park ranger/ fire lookout.

-actually, he knew about everything. From the tasks you usually handle to your working schedule.

-the reason he didn't kill you off was because part of your job is keeping campers away from the unregistered camp grounds which was quite convenient on his part. (Perhaps convenient for all of them)

-that way he wouldn't risk getting caught on the way/back from a mission, even though he usually drives to his destinations with a beaten up old truck. He knows how nosey some people are and would definitely pull a curiosity move and possibly find his resort.

-but he also couldn't let you run around freely around the forest either, he just kept an eye on you for a while in case you were too close to finding out about his...'business'

-i can see him stalking you slowly seeping into his routine. could be out of curiosity or genuine interest.

-during your relationship, he'd drop by from time to time in the watch tower even though it's against the rules. He'll be careful, he says.

-he's still an asshole very much like his friends, would probably disregard his mudded hiking boots by the entrance and just throw himself on your bed. Not caring if whatever substance he was covered in (blood) stains your bedsheets or something.

-to make up for it he cooks you food with whatever ingredients you have to offer :3 I like to think he's a good cook, staying out in the forest for long periods of time gained him that skill.

-if he isn't too busy, you two would watch the scenery together :) a little nice bonding moment.

MASKY;

-sigh... This motherfucker would NOT be good company for you at all.

-you could be sleeping peacefully just to wake up and find him standing at the foot of your bed just...staring.

-he's making sure they don't get you lol

-who the fuck is "they" (...does anyone get the reference)

-steals any lighters he finds in the shack just to light up his cigarettes.

-yes, when he puts out his cigarettes he just throws them on the ground. not caring if it's against the rules to litter the forest. at this point they're all trying to get you in trouble whether it's intentionally or not.

-unlike Toby, he doesn't help around that much with your tasks.

-if you manage to convince him to bring up some firewood from the shack so you can light up the fire, just praise him. it's enough to boost his already humongous ego and he might consider helping every now and then just so you could call him your strong, manly boyfrie–

TOBY;

-This stupid fucker would send you disturbing messages on his old ass flip phone at night whenever you still have the planks up.

-some shit like 'i c yu :-)'

-... yeah he never likes typing his sentences properly because he still uses those number keyboards (I don't know what they're called)

-it gives you a heart attack everytime untill you look out the window and see that it's Toby being a weirdo again.

-like anon said, he always sets random stuff on fire which always gets him in trouble, you end up reminding him that you aren't the only fire lookout in the forest and that another worker will report it.

-he doesn't listen.

-he definitely scares off any campers in areas they aren't supposed to be. Hey, at least he isn't completely useless!

-the opposite of Brian/Hoodie, instead of cooking for you he absolutely ravishes anything you have in the fridge.

-no, he isn't sorry.

-other than the things that he does to piss you off he actually does help from time to time like helping you fill in the service reporting— using the anemometer, checking the thermometer...etc

-he thinks the devices look neat :)

something regarding the fanfic I talked about during the very beginning of my blog... what setting do you guys prefer? atmosphere and vibe wise. decided to finally get my ass up and do some work, in fact, I was halfway through with the first chapter but I felt like there were too many unnecessary details in it and that I just rushed the idea so I started over. also ignore the weird fucking descriptions I'm just trying to get the vision across.

At Your Service (OLD)

[Ben]: Yo Masky, make me a sandwich, will ya?

[Masky]: Yo Ben, get your lazy ass up and make one yourself.

[Ben]: Well, geez, you don’t have to be rude about it.

[Y\n, literally a minute later]: Tim... I’m hungry.

[Masky]: Already rushing to the kitchen Of course, Y\n.

[Ben]: ... Scoffs

[Ben]: Now that’s favoritism.

okk first off i just found your blog and i love your work! ^^

i was wondering if you could do tim/masky with a girlfriend?

Aw, I appreciate that! ^^

Headcanons coming right up~

Tim\Masky with a S\O

Let's just establish something really quick. Tim and Masky are two separate people. They have separate thoughts, separate opinions, and most of all, separate personalities.

Tim is a nervous wreck with anxiety but is, for the most part, polite and pleasant to talk to.

Masky, on the other hand?

This dude will not hesitate to slit your throat if you so much as roll your eyes at him.

It's only natural, considering Masky was created for the sole purpose of being Slenderman's puppet, whereas Tim tried his best to avoid that.

Because of this, they treat you very, very differently.

You want to have a cuddle sesh with Tim?

He's a bit hesitant but, sure! He'll let you sit on his lap and gradually relax as the minutes tick on.

You wanna do the same with Masky?

Bish, he will slap your hand away before you can even say, "Can we cuddle?"

Then stomp off with the declaration, "That stuff is bullshit."

He is not the most lovable guy, lemme just say.

In fact, he's borderline abusive.

Masky sees the idea of "love" as something for wimps and wants no part in it.

That doesn't stop Tim from dating you, though.

He's so happy to have you be a part of his life. After everything that went down between him and Brian, after everything that he did, all of the mistakes he's made, he's convinced himself that he isn't worthy of affection. That he deserves this and couldn't even escape if he tried.

Tim enjoys listening to your voice, and he'll quickly fall asleep to it if given the chance. Especially if you run your fingers through his hair.

On a day that Masky isn't entirely royally pissed off at the world and everyone in it, maybe you can get him to stand beside you without flinching away as if you carry some kind of deadly disease.

At the height of his affection, he might encourage you on something you're doing, or give your back a rough pat.

Don't expect anything more, though.

Tim adores you, Masky lowkey despises you. He views you as incapable and a liability.

Good luck getting that to change.

Jeff the killer, ticci Toby, masky and any other pastas of your choosing with an s/o with a fainting disorder. How would they react to s/o fainting infront of them for the first time??? Thx!

Ohhh I really like this idea actually!

Jeff:

Man will go completely still for like six seconds.

He just looks at your fallen form in disbelief, eyes wide, trying to wrap his brain around the fact that you just dropped like a duce with no warning whatsoever.

After he somewhat comprehends what just happened, he'll softly speak your name.

"...Y\n...?"

Poor dude doesn't know how to handle this.

Will definitely poke you to make sure you aren't faking.

Once he realizes you are actually unconscious, he'll shake your shoulders to try to wake you up, and if it goes on for too long he'll pick you up bridal-style and take you to Jack to get a professional opinion.

After you wake up and he has confirmation that you won't be dying anytime soon, he'll be salty.

"How could you do that??"

"Jeff—"

"No, don't talk to me. I'm sulking."

Toby:

Panic mode.

Absolute panic mode.

"Y/n? Did you just die??"

Will leap from his seat in an instant and go absolutely berserk as you lay motionless on the ground. He checks to make sure you're still breathing, and when he sees your chest rise and fall, he'll let out the loudest breath of relief.

Except now he has to find some way to wake you up. So, he calls the only one he knows might be prepared to handle something like this.

Yup, you guessed it: Jack.

Dude still doesn't know what's wrong with you, and his terror can be heard over the phone. "Y\n, unconscious, don't know what to do, get over here!"

"Calm down, Toby—"

"I AM CALM!"

When you actually open your eyes, he will pull you into the tightest hug, pleased beyond belief that you're okay.

"God, don't...don't do that to me again."

Masky:

Will catch you before he even knows what he's doing.

One moment, you're standing, perfectly fine, then the next you're not. He doesn't know what to think about that.

"Don't play games with me, dumbass," he'll warn oh-so-sweetly, arms looped beneath your back so you don't fall and bust your head.

When you're unresponsive, he'll lay you on the floor so he can get a better look at your features. You seem fine, you're not hurt, so what happened?

"Hey. Wake up."

He'll sit down beside you, not willing to admit this turn of events slightly concerns him, and waits for you to stir. After not too long, you do, and notice his position, then realize what happened. "Masky?"

"You better not make this a habit," he snaps, observing your puzzled expression. "I have more important things to do than stay here with you 'cause you're too fuckin' lazy to keep consciousness."

"If that's the case, why'd you stay?" You smirk, rubbing your head and rising. He'll huff, grab your arm, and hoist you up, careful not to let go until you've gained back your balance.

"Shut up."

Liu:

An instant 'oh shit' expression graces his face as he drives forward to snatch you up before you have a chance to hit the ground.

With one arm locked around your torso, he'll examine you, trying to find something that could have caused you to pass out so suddenly.

If you're near a couch or bed or anything else that could be used as a seat, he'll be lifting and taking you there so he won't risk you slipping from his hold.

He'll take his phone out of his pocket, trying to remain calm, and dial Jack's number while he brushes some hair out of your face.

Overall much more mature about the matter than the former three.

When Jack arrives and you wake up, Liu will stand to the side and watch somewhat nervously as you're tested to ensure you're coherent enough to move around.

He'll thank Jack for rushing over so quickly, and once he's gone, he'll take a seat beside you, wrapping his arms around you and allowing his breathing patterns to settle.

"Next time, tell me if you think you're about to faint. You scared the shit outta me."

Hello i have an idea . So how does masky red angel helen and hoodie react to a female reader who cooks great food? reader makes dishes that taste at home. the reader cooks home cooking. and these dishes make you feel comfortable like at home. it's like a mother cooked these dishes. I hope you know what I mean. have a nice day. I hope you do it

Hi! I don't write for Red Angel, as stated in my rules.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Brian

This man is very passionate about cooking. He was raised partially by his grandmother, so he learned a lot of his skills from her - he definitely prides himself on making a good meal.

So when he finds out you can do it, too?? Yay!

Weekly cooking sessions together will be a must. This is one of his favorite hobbies, after all, and he's more than pleased to share it with you!

Every time he eats some of your food, he gets flashbacks of open windows, spring breezes, and creaky floorboards. His food may be great, but it doesn't quite have the same kind of nostalgic feel to it as yours does.

It doesn't seem to matter what you make, you will always get his praise. He loves your cooking, and that is made obvious by the way he is always ready and willing to eat it.

Masky

This one is a little more difficult to read...

If he smells food that he knows you're making - and trust me, he'll know - then there is always one definite reaction.

He'll subtly slink toward the kitchen and linger around that area, snapping at anyone that questions it, until the meal is declared finished.

Since he's often the first person you see when you're done, you will offer him the first plate, and begrudgingly he'll be like, "okay, fine, whatever. Don't expect me to like it or anything."

Of course, he'll like it, and he knows that, hence why he stalks around the kitchen like a hyena. If you watch closely enough, you can catch him coming back for seconds.

Helen

Helen is not someone that usually eats large, healthy, or tasty meals, so you were hard-pressed to get him to try this new recipe you were trying to perfect.

Once he caught a good whiff of its enticing scent, however, he complied, and you could literally see the moment his eyes lit up with a sparkle that said, "oh wow...this is good".

You are the only person - anywhere - whose food he will eat. It reminds him of a secure home with a nice family; something he never had.

What you make is a staple for his creativity and inspiration. It seems, each time you feed him, that he thinks of a new idea or is motivated to paint something new/finish a painting he had neglected.

He doesn't exactly show it, but he's super grateful to you for letting him be part of your life in this way, and that something so simple makes him feel so cared for.

𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐀 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄 - 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 [𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖]

This is a preview of my Creepypasta fanfiction 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐀 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄 on Quotev! If this piques your interest, you can check out the full story here. :)

Y/N was a sharp and resolute woman. She stood tall in her field of work. Ever since she was a little girl, she'd wanted to be a police officer. She always wondered what went on into criminals minds and what drove them to commit such violent crimes. Blood, death, and violence were her key interests as a child. It often scared others away from her, but it never tore her down. And as she grew, she found herself in the exact position she'd dreamt of.

Her new house stood as a symbol of fresh beginnings, a sanctuary she had recently moved into. Weeks had passed since she settled into the quiet neighborhood. She was quite happy with it. Everything was as normal and plain as plain can be. That was up until oddities began appearing. Strange sightings began to be whispered about. Then, disappearances, followed by brutal murders that shook everyone to their core.

The atmosphere became charged with tension, both among the residents and the law enforcement tasked with solving the heinous crimes. Y/N was taken by surprise just as much as everyone else had been. The chief was on her tail, as he was on everyone else's to figure out who was doing all of this. She could feel the weight of responsibility pressing down on her shoulders, the burden of unraveling the mysteries that unfolded before them. Throughout her career, she had faced a myriad of criminals, from petty thieves to rapists and rebellious teenagers. However, the presence of a murderer, especially a serial killer, was a rarity that sent chills down her spine.

Y/N found herself on edge, just like the rest of the community. She yearned to understand what was going on. Over time, more victims were discovered, each murder somehow, some way more violent than the last. One woman; Amybeth Merritt, a 37-year-old. She was discovered in her own bedroom, half naked and suspended on the wall with her hands nailed to the surface, her own intestines twisted around her neck like a noose. Her stomach appeared to be sliced open, her body adorned with countless lacerations. Her death was no doubt agonizing, not to mention untimely as her family continues to mourn.

And another, poor 22 year old Makayla Addams, found naked on her bed with nothing but a silk crimson blanket covering her body. It had been bitten into in various places; her neck, her hip, her thigh--even her most delicate areas. It's believed she had participated in consensual sexual activity prior to her death.

There have been no leads, nor any suspects. Whoever is doing this is clever and they likely won't be stopping any time soon.

Y/N found solace within the walls of her home office. Bathed in the soft glow of lamplight, the room emanated an air of security. The hushed whispers of the wind danced through the trees outside, a soothing melody that complemented the rhythmic scribbling of her pen on paper.

The office, her sanctuary, embraced her with its warmth and familiarity. The shelves, adorned with a vast collection of books, whispered tales of knowledge and wisdom. The dark oakwood desk, worn with time, bore witness to countless hours of dedication and determination. Its expansive surface was adorned with stacks of paperwork, neatly organized into boxes at the corners of the room, alongside other important items. As Y/N delved into the sea of documents, her focus unwavering, a sense of purpose filled the room. Each stroke of her pen carried weight, each decision made with meticulous care. The night seemed to envelop her, embracing the solitude and serenity that only the late hours could offer.

Outside her window, the moon cast a gentle glow, casting long shadows that danced across the floor. The wind rustled the leaves, a gentle reminder of the world beyond her office walls. In this stillness, Y/N's mind was clear, her thoughts sharp, as she navigated the complexities of her work.

Amidst the calmness of the night, Y/N's dedication burned bright. The night sky bore witness to her unwavering commitment to the pursuit of justice. And as she continued to toil into the early hours, the quietude of the night became a testament to her unwavering resolve. Despite all that had been unfolding outside, she felt safe and happy.

Suddenly, Y/N's head snapped forward at the abrupt sound of the doorbell. The pen she held in her hand found its place on the desk, carefully set down as she rose from her chair. With a swift motion, she pushed the chair back, causing it to spin momentarily before colliding with the edge of the desk. Curiosity tinged with a hint of caution danced in her eyes as she exited her office, her steps starting off awfully slow as she felt this feeling of foreboding wash over her for no real reason. One step after the other, she hurried over to the door. Each footfall echoed through the hallway, the silence broken by the soft shuffle of her shoes on the floor. Questions swirled in her mind, wondering who could be at her doorstep at such a late hour.

The hallway led her closer to the front door, anticipation building with each passing moment. She couldn't help but wonder about the possibilities that awaited her on the other side.

As Y/N reached the entrance, her hand reached out for the doorknob. She hesitated for a brief moment, her mind contemplating the potential risks of opening that door. She couldn't figure out why, but something was urging her to back away and stay inside. Alas, she didn't listen.

With a steady breath, Y/N turned the doorknob and swung open the door, the night air seeping into the threshold. Her eyes scanned the darkness, eventually moving down to the concrete step below her feet. There she was greeted with a large package. A plain light-brown box adorned with tape at the creases.

Her curiosity piqued, her warm eyes fixated on the unassuming box. Simple and worn, it held an untold secret within. With a mix of caution and anticipation, she picked it up, feeling its weight—light yet heavy with an unknown power.

Bringing the box inside her cozy home, a dimly lit foyer and a light presence welcomed her. Time seemed suspended, caught between suspense and the hunger for answers. Y/N placed the box on an aged wooden table, its surface bearing stories of the past. Quickly, she ventures off into the kitchen, fetching a pair of cooking scissors. She rushed back, pulling the box closer to her. With a calculated force, she drove the scissors into the top of the box, puncturing the tape and creating a starting point. Sensing the resistance give way, she swiftly withdrew her hand, allowing the tape to peel back and form a neat, precise slit. She drops the tool and uses her hands to tear the two cardboard folds apart, revealing a collection of mysterious jewel cases inside.

The detective couldn't help but furrow her brows, her gaze unable to pull away from the handful of DVDs. Beginning to wonder if she had opened someone else's package, she starts to feel almost regretful. There was no return address, or even a name on the box. But yet, she still felt as if something was terribly wrong.

Reluctantly, she reaches inside, wrapping her fingers around one of the clear cases. She squeezed it, pulling it back from the box. As the light reflected off of the surface, large words in what appeared to be black marker read; TAPE 1.

Y/N's curiosity compelled her to set the box aside momentarily and return to her office. With a purposeful stride, she crossed the threshold and made her way back to her desk. The familiar creak of the chair greeted her as she settled back down, pulling herself closer to the expansive dark oakwood desk. The jewel case rests in her hand, its contents beckoning with an air of mystery.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N's shaky hand tightened on the jewel case, her fingertips tracing the smooth surface. With a deft motion, she released the clasp and lifted the lid, revealing the gleaming CD nestled inside. Its mirrored surface caught the dim light of her office, adding an ethereal glimmer to the room.

Her eyes flicked to the small side button on the CD player built into her computer. Without hesitation, she pressed the button, hearing a satisfying click as the tray slid open. Gently, she placed the CD onto the tray, the metallic surface fitting perfectly within the grooves. With a soft push, the tray glided back into place, securing the CD within the confines of the computer.

As the CD player whirred to life, anticipation coursed through Y/N's veins. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

The video player on her computer screen flickered to life, a small loading icon spinning in the center. Her heart raced with as she leaned forward, tapping her finger nervously on the desk all while she rested her free hand at the bottom of her jaw. The tension hung in the air, as palpable as the tension that gripped her.

Time seemed to stretch as the loading process dragged on, the progress bar advancing sluggishly. Y/N's impatience grew, her finger tapping faster on the desk. The video player appeared to stutter, almost glitching at times, adding to her mounting frustration.

Unable to bear the slow progress any longer, Y/N pushed herself up from her chair and made her way to the kitchen. She needed a momentary distraction to ease her restlessness. Quietly, she filled the kettle with water and set it on the stove. As the water over time came to a boil, Y/N prepared a cup of tea, carefully selecting her favorite blend. The fragrant steam wafted upwards, enveloping her senses. With the cup cradled in her hands, she took a moment to collect herself, savoring the warmth and aroma.

Even as she sipped her tea, Y/N's mind remained fixated on the video waiting to be watched. The lure of the unknown beckoned her back to her office, hoping that it must be loaded up on the screen by now.

Balancing the cup of tea in her hands, Y/N made her way back to her office, the warm ceramic radiating comfort against her palms. She carefully sat down in her chair, setting the cup on a coaster beside her. Heaving a sigh of hope, she directed her attention back to the computer screen.

To her relief, the video loaded, a peculiar thumbnail appeared, its image distorted and unclear. Excitement washed over her, before replacing itself with a sense of confusion. Y/N squinted, trying to make out the details, but it seemed intentionally messy, like a sepia-filtered photograph with streaks of red liquid cascading along the bottom. The sight puzzled her, the abstract pattern and intensity of saturation leaving her with more questions than answers.

Curiosity mingled with a touch of unease as she questioned the nature of the video she was about to watch. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was making a serious mistake. She began having second thoughts as she rested her hand over the mouse, biting her lip. Perhaps she should put the CD back in the box? Bring it to her team? So many ideas, so many queer thoughts. The image teased at her senses, its cryptic appearance fueling her further.

Unable to take the mental torture any longer, she gives in.

"Ah, what the hell—"

THRU THE LOOKING GLASS

•°. *࿐ քʀօʟօɢʊɛ ➻

.·:*¨༺ 𝘼 𝙂𝙖𝙯𝙚 𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙒𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙙༻¨*:·.

Thru The Looking Glass is a creepypasta x f! reader fanfic I started writing months ago but only just now published. Now, I'm here to do the same for this silly little site! Warnings and story under the cut.

WARNINGS: This story contains content that may not be suitable for any of my younger followers. This story contains heavy depictions of gore, violence, murder, death, abuse, childhood abuse, SA, derealization, mental health issues, and other topics. + my over the top writing (oops)..This is a more realistic approach while also having fun with it. I needed something new to work on while I go about with my other stories.

word count: 5,722

summary: In this OC-worthy tale of horror and pain, we follow the story of Y/N, a young woman whose life has been shattered by tragedy and abuse. Haunted by hallucinations and plagued by violent outbursts, Y/N is trapped in a cycle of torment, unable to escape the clutches of her controlling and abusive father. A retired doctor with a zealot's faith, he subjects his daughter to a range of experimental treatments in his quest to purge her of demons that he believes have sought refuge in her pure form.

As Y/N struggles to retain her grip on reality, wonderland and real life alike, she must unravel the thick web of her father's madness, and reclaim her identity before it's too late.

A large building loomed over the street, its windows black and empty. The darkness outside was all-encompassing, the kind that seeps into your bones and fills you with a deep sense of dread. The wind howled like a wounded animal, rattling the windows in their frames and sending shivers down the spines of anyone brave enough to venture out. The streetlights flickered sporadically, casting an eerie glow over the empty sidewalks. There was no sign of life, no sound except the wail of the wind. It was a ghost town, a place where nightmares come to life. And for Y/N, it was hell.

Y/N stumbled into her old cramped bedroom, her heart hammering in her chest. She locked the door behind her, feeling a fleeting sense of safety. But the feeling was fleeting indeed, as the dark room seemed to close in on her. The vintage wallpaper, once vibrant and lively, now peeled and faded, hung like a veil of sadness around the room. The creaky floorboards groaned in protest beneath her feet, as if they too shared her burden.

She let out a ragged sigh and collapsed onto her bed, her limbs feeling heavy and uncooperative. The mattress, worn and lumpy, offered no comfort, and she winced as fresh pain shot up from the bruises on her arms and legs. Her eyes, swollen and red from tears, took in her surroundings: the small desk and chair, both rickety and unsteady, pushed up against one wall; a dresser with a chipped mirror in the opposite corner; and the twin-sized bed with a faded floral bedspread, now more depressing than cheerful. The room was still and quiet, save for her ragged breaths that echoed off the walls. It felt like a prison, and she was the only inmate.

Soft eyes slowly opened to the sight of an unfamiliar space, filled with nature and elegant wildlife. The plush bed she lied in was covered with a down comforter and fluffy pillows, the area's furnishings exuding a timeless charm. A vintage dresser with an ornate mirror stood high, while a side table held a delicate antique lamp that cast a warm glow that seemed to produce a warm barrier of protection despite its irrelevancy,  the sunlight covering the wooded area with a blanket of warmth. She could recognize these items as her own, however they seemed to look brighter. They looked as if she had just gotten them. As she sat up, Y/N felt a soft breeze settle against her skin, rustling the trees--almost like a nurturing embrace from mother nature.

She looked out into the forest beyond, where the trees stood tall and majestic, their leaves a riot of colors in shades of green, red, orange, and gold. The forest was kind of quiet, yet alive with the soft sounds of chirping birds and other forms of wildlife. There was an atmosphere of mystery and enchantment within this queer place. She looked around, noticing she wasn't in her bedroom, or even in a building. Her bed, the dresser and the table were placed in the middle of a plethora of trees in which surrounded her, a long, endless pathway splitting feet away. Curious, the young woman pulled the covers over her side, kicking her legs over the bed as she further took in her surroundings.

She shivered as she stood up, the lace at the bottom of her nightgown flowing with the breeze that swept over her body. She took a deep breath, the scent of damp earth and crisp leaves filling her lungs. The forest seemed to stretch out endlessly, the trees towering over her like sentinels. The ground was soft beneath her feet, the fallen leaves cushioning her every step. She wondered how she'd gotten here, and why she was in the middle of a forest. The last thing she remembered was falling asleep in her own bed, her father's voice echoing in her mind. Here she is now, surrounded by the beauty of nature. She felt a sense of calm wash over her, a feeling she hadn't experienced in a long time. In this moment, a blurry cloud filled her mind. All she knew were the sights before her.

As she looked around, she noticed something strange. Moving along the brown trail, she began to see dolls. These dolls hung by thread, some even from rope with a tight loop around their necks, creating a noose. They were a mixture of old and new, ranging from simple cloth dolls to elaborate porcelain ones. The closer she looked, the more she realized that some of the dolls had an uncanny resemblance to her. Most were in one piece, while there were also random doll parts such as heads and legs, swinging with the wind.

She continued, the dolls on the branches seeming to multiply as she walked further. Some of them were cracked and broken, their once beautiful, fresh features now twisted and corrupted. The air grew colder, and the sky turned from a calming blue to a deep, foreboding red. The trees themselves began to ooze from their trunks, a mysterious liquid easing into the forest floor. This liquid was rich and thick, possessing a deep shade of red, matching the sky. Y/N could feel her heart sink as that calming feeling dissolved, replaced with a painful twist in her stomach.

The dolls seemed to come alive, their heads turning to watch her as she passed by. Their once happy faces twisted into expressions of anger and disgust, their eyes seeming to follow her every move. The path became more treacherous, the ground uneven and full of roots and rocks. Y/N stumbled, her foot catching on a branch and sending her tumbling to the ground. As she picked herself up, she noticed a doll lying on the ground next to her. It was cracked and its eyes were closed. Its skin was pale and its hair was tangled, a familiar red liquid oozing from the creases of its broken cheeks. She rushed away from it, stumbling as she made her way deeper into the infinite amounts of trees.

Y/N felt like she had been wandering for hours, the path ahead of her only seeming to stretch further. The forest grew darker as she pressed on, the sky overhead seeming to darken its hue. The once tranquil sounds of nature had been silenced. It was quiet. Too quiet.

She stumbled upon a clearing, the ground beneath her feet soft and spongy. She looked around, noticing that the trees here were different from the rest, their bark gnarled and twisted. As she stepped forward, a voice suddenly spoke from the shadows, causing her to jump in surprise.

"Who are you? What brings you to my domain?"

The voice boomed, deep and menacing. Y/N looked around frantically, trying to locate the source of the voice. She saw a large wolf-like animal standing before her, its coat a deep red with a black mane and tail. Its glossy white eyes glinted in the dim light, and its sharp teeth were bared in a grin that sent shivers down her spine. The dog took a step forward, its powerful muscles rippling under its sleek fur. Y/N couldn't help but feel both confused and unsettled by the sight of the creature. It was like no other canine she had ever seen, and the way it spoke only added to her confusion

"I-...I appear to be lost," she stammered, her heart pounding in her chest.

The dog stepped closer, its eyes seeming to glow in the darkness as it revealed itself further from within the trees. "Lost, you say?" it hissed, its breath hot against her face. "Perhaps I can help you find your way."

Y/N took a step back, unsure of whether to trust this hound. But with no other option and a clouded mind, she nodded.

The hound turned around and began to walk, its massive form barely making a sound as it moved through the forest. Y/N hesitantly followed, her senses on high alert as the silence around them grew deafening. The once beautiful trees now looked twisted and gnarled, their branches stretching out like long fingers. The ground was littered with fallen leaves and broken twigs, and the red hue of the sky made the forest appear even darker.

As they walked, Y/N couldn't shake off the feeling that she was being watched. Every now and then, the hound would pause, as if sensing something that she could neither see nor hear. She shuddered, feeling as if the forest was closing in around her.

Her head was spinning, and the scent of blood grew stronger, overwhelming her senses. She felt her stomach churn, and a wave of dizziness washed over her. Something felt terribly wrong about this place. Just then, the hound stopped in his tracks. He turned his head, and Y/N watched as he silently dissolved away into a mist. The mist surrounded her, and she was left standing alone in the darkness. She couldn't see her own hands in front of her face, and the smell of blood was suffocating. The mist, thick and ethereal, stretched out before her, obscuring her vision like the veil of a widow.

"Hell- Hello?" She croaked in a small voice, seeking out for her new friend. Where could he have gone?

She pressed on, eventually giving up. Determined to find her way out., time seemed to blur as she walked, her senses stuffed with cotton. After what felt like forever, she began to notice the mist was starting to clear. In time, she found herself deeper in the dim-lit forest. The sun, barely visible through the dense canopy of towering trees, cast fragmented rays of light that danced upon the forest floor. The air was heavy with the earthy scent of rain, hinting at the recent downpour that had bathed the woods.

As Y/N ventured deeper, the bark of the trees became darker and more weathered. Their branches reached out like gnarled fingers, seemingly whispering secrets to one another. Shadows played tricks on her eyes, making it difficult to discern the true path ahead. Despite the sickening feeling inside, Y/N's building fight or flight sent her forward. She yearned for the warmth of sunlight on her skin, or better yet, to find herself entangled in the covers of her thick blanket in her own bed. The mist persisted, swirling around her like a cloak, but she refused to be once again consumed by it again.

A sense of relief washed over her as she found herself in the presence of this quieter, more secluded part of the forest. The soft filtered sunlight offered a flickering respite from the shadows. The air was gentle and easy on the senses, scents of rainwater and fresh grass replacing the stomach-churning scent of blood. It felt familiar, comforting. But as moments turned into minutes, a growing unease crept back into Y/N's consciousness. It started as a prickling sensation at the nape of her neck, an instinctual warning. She strained her ears, trying to decipher any peculiar sounds within the natural symphony of the forest.

Suddenly, a faint snap shattered the growing atmosphere of ease. Y/N's head snapped in the direction of the noise, gasping involuntarily. Her eyes darted through the dimly lit surroundings, searching for the source, but all she saw were dancing shadows and swaying branches. It was as if the forest itself played tricks on her, taunting her, keeping its secrets hidden from view. A shiver raced down her spine, casting a chill in the air. The forest, of which was peaceful and quiet, now seemed to become more ever twisted than before. Y/N quickened her pace, fear fueling her steps. She refused to be consumed by fear or doubt. All she wanted was to get home.

She pressed forward, her eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of danger. She knew she had to keep going, as the answers she sought lay somewhere within the heart of the trees. A darkness loomed in her mind, urging her to turn back, but she refused. Guided by a glimmer of hope that rested deep within her trauma-trenched soul, she ventured deeper, making sure to follow each step of the path that only seemed to stretch further and further, edging her with the chance of safely finding her way.

The world around Y/N felt as though it had ceased to exist beyond the immediate circle of shadows and rustling leaves. Every nerve ending tingled with an acute awareness of impending ruin. As she strained her senses to decipher the source of the sounds, she felt herself submerged in overwhelming dread. It was an inexplicable dread, one that didn't just linger in the air but seeped into her flesh and clawed its way into her core. Then there was a smell. The stench intensified—a putrid mixture of decay and coppery undertones—coiling around her like a serpent. 

Feeling sick to her stomach, Y/N couldn't bear to move. Her mind raced with fearful thoughts. Was it a wild animal? Was it a corpse?

A twig snapped with a crisp sound, closer this time. Y/N's heart lurched into her throat, rendering speech and movement impossible. The forest seemed to hold its breath, the silence now an unbearable weight pressing on her shoulders. She strained to pinpoint the origin of the noises, but the darkness thwarted her efforts, rendering everything beyond a few feet an empty abyss. Each and every second felt like an eternity, as if time itself had chosen this moment to stretch and distort. Her breaths came in shallow gasps, the cold air burning her lungs. The once comforting rustle of leaves became a taunting chant, mocking her. Daring her to move.

Summoning every ounce of energy and courage she could possibly find, Y/N willed herself to move, to break free from the shackles fear had locked on her fragile limbs. But her limbs felt heavy, unresponsive, as if held by an unseen force. The forest seemed to converge upon her, the trees closing ranks, confining her within them. Desperation clawed at her chest as she fought against the panic threatening to consume her entirely. She had to escape, had to find a way out before whatever lurked in the never ending darkness closed in on her. But with each passing moment, the forest's malevolence seemed to intensify, never ceasing to remind her she wasn't alone. 

She slowly brings her leg to push forward, taking a step. She slowly rested her foot upon the dirt trail, like a child sneaking into the kitchen to find their way to the cookie jar. With a shallow exhale, she pushes her body forward, gently resting her other foot beside her left. Although tense, she seemed to relax, convincing herself if she were quiet, she wouldn't startle whatever it was that had desired to make itself known. In the thick shroud of the oppressive darkness, just before she was about to take another step, a queer and haunting clicking noise pierced through the silence, sending shivers down Y/N's spine. It was a sound that liquidated explanation—a disconcerting blend of a whine and the creak of an old, rusted door. The unsettling cry echoed around her, the trees seeming to tremble in fear.

She kept still. Nothing. She then took a few hesitant steps forward, her pulse thundering in her ears, each beat she felt in her flesh. But as her foot grazed the forest floor, convinced she would make it out, a sudden, heart-wrenching cry shattered that hope. It was a mournful sound, tinged with an unbearable sadness that clawed at the deepest parts of her soul (not to mention her ear drums). The cry seemed to emanate from the same entity, the trees now beginning to literally shake in shared anguish of the young woman.

Y/N's steps faltered, her breath hitching in her throat. Despite her fear, she felt a surge of empathy flood through her—a strange connection to the mournful sound from what could have been an injured animal. Her heart ached, entwined with the dread that held her. As if in response, the darkness seemed to coalesce, thickening around her. The forest itself seemed to draw even closer, pressing in on her from all sides.

She strained to discern any movement. But the more she strained herself, the more the shadows seemed to morph and shift, concealing whatever lurked just beyond her line of sight. Time seemed to warp and twist, elongating the moments into an eternity of psychological torture. The air around her crackled with an otherworldly tension, growing bitter and cold. Her every muscle tensed, ready to bolt at the slightest provocation. Yet, she found herself stuck by some force, held captive by an invisible barrier.

The cry echoed once more, only this time, it was closer. It was as though the injured creature sought solace in her presence.

She wanted so badly to run. A foreboding sensation crept up her spine, adding on to the building tension, causing her muscles to tense, locking themselves up so tight it was nearly painful. Her eyes widened in alarm, the adrenaline urging her to move, to flee. Yet, her strength allowed her only to do the bare minimum—a cautious, subtle glance, an attempt to discern the source of her dread without confronting it head on.

Slowly, her gaze shifted, almost sidelong, toward the space behind her. She dared not make direct eye contact, fearing whatever it was that lurked from behind. Her heart pounded furiously, echoing in her ears like a funeral drum, while her throat ran dry. The air was freezing by now. She felt as if she could get frostbite, feeling nips on her fingers and her bare toes, rendering her limbs tremulous and her breaths shallow. The clicking sound persisted, as the creature crept in from behind her. 

An ache spread within her skull as she tried to catch a glimpse of what it was, only met with moving twig-like parts, what she could only assume to be arms. Her vision was obscured, offering mere glimpses of disjointed blotches. She discerned the unsettling silhouette of blotchy limbs, strange colors melded together. The creature's form appeared surreal, an amalgamation of beige tainted with splotches of crimson that resembled dried blood, twisted in abstract patterns across its strange horror-novel-esque frame.

Her breath hitched as she briefly caught sight of its torso—a bony structure, taut around its ribs, adorned with protruding spikes that seemed to glisten in the faint dim source of light. The sight sent her fear into overdrive, a primal instinct warning her of imminent danger. And then, she thought she saw its face—or what could pass for one. Black voids for eyes seemed to peer into the depths of her own, unnerving in their emptiness, devoid of any emotion or life. A hole of a mouth gaped open, revealing jagged, serrated teeth that protruded like sharp daggers.

In the shifting darkness, her gaze traced what she could only assume were its arms—twig-like appendages that moved sinuously. They were twisted and unnaturally long. The creature appeared to be tall, taller than her, and for its arms, hooked at the very edge where its hand would be, to touch the ground, she realized this was no wild animal. Y/N's mind reeled at the sight, grappling with the horrifying reality that stood before her—she was in a nightmare. She was in hell.

In her mind she screamed at herself to run before it was too late. Yet she still couldn't. Her bones felt fragile, as if the weight of her fear could shatter them into a million shards. She stood, transfixed by terror, caught between the compulsion to confront the creature and the overwhelming urge to book it. Straining her senses, specifically her sight and her hearing, caused her physical damage as she snapped her gaze back ahead, shutting her eyes tightly. 

Suddenly, her ears began to ring. It numbed the back of her eyeballs while also sending a sharp pain through them. Instinctively, Y/N throws her hands up to her ears in attempts to blocking out the noise. She's unsure of whether or not that was the extra push she needed, but regardless, she found herself running. Her joints were unlocked, each movement swift and fluid. She just kept running, running through the dark, the tips of her fingernails digging into the sides of her head. She could feel herself scratching her hair follicles, digging into her skin as her faced scrunched in agony. She didn't dare open her eyes just yet, allowing her legs to carry her wherever they ended up. 

In a sudden burst of light, a flash erupted from the depths of the forest. The light filtered through her eyelids, nearly blinding her as they shot open. She could feel herself stumble back, completely caught off guard. She stood there, head darting around the area. She found her footing light and her breath heavy, heart racing as she tried to process it all at once. It was as if the world around her transformed, and she found herself in a clearing bathed in filtered sunlight. The forest gave way to a serene oasis, where the gentle sounds of rustling leaves and distant birdsong filled the air. Y/N took a moment to absorb her surroundings, her senses recalibrating to this sudden peace. The trees, though still towering and ancient, now seemed to share a quiet wisdom rather than wicked darkness and sheer terror. The ground beneath her feet felt soft and mossy, inviting her into a haven of comfort and warmth.

Every ounce of unease and fear slowly but surely began to melt away as she calmly strolled through. All of this was too much—all she wanted was to go home. Perhaps it's this way? 

It was fairly uneventful, her journey. She would take occasional twists and turns, following the path etched into the dirt that was awfully gentle on the skin of her bare feet. In this strange contrast to the previous forest, Y/N wandered along the winding paths, enveloped in its atmosphere of charm. The vintage allure of the surroundings added a familiar home-like touch to the scene. Oil-lit street lamps cast a warm, golden glow, illuminating the path as if guiding her through a bygone memory. The air was filled with fluttering butterflies, their vibrant wings painting the air with kaleidoscopic hues.

As she ventured deeper, she was swarmed with curious sights that felt oddly enchanting. Hanging delicately from branches were dolls, but not suspended by rope around their necks as she had seen before. Instead, they dangled by slender pastel and rich-colored ribbons tied around their wrists, and sum even by the cuffs of their blouses and shirts, their porcelain faces serene yet haunting in their stillness.

Elegant decorations adorned the foliage, ornate carvings and nostalgic old trinkets nestled amidst the tapestry. It felt like a stroll through a forgotten memory, deep within the core of her mind, where time stood still.

However, as she tip-toed further along the trail, the ambiance began to shift once more. The air dropped, becoming cooler, and the light dimmed ever so slightly as if a cloud had passed over the sun. A peculiar sensation settled over her, a feeling that she wasn't alone. It wasn't all that threatening, however. Strange noises began to merge within the symphony of the forest. Heavy footsteps echoed in the distance, accompanied by laughter that seemed to reverberate from somewhere unseen. Intrigued, while also apprehensive, Y/N couldn't resist the urge to investigate.

The noises grew closer, drawing her towards the edge of the path where it abruptly ended. Peering around the corner, she encountered an inexplicable sight—a fuzzy distortion, as if the fabric of reality blurred before her eyes. Through the haze and the surrealistic feeling she felt brewing inside of her, she captured glimpses of an odd scene—a pair of dark pants, knives glinting in a faint light. She strained her senses, having recovered from earlier, picking up what she could only discern into screams. They were faint and muffled, though, before she could hear something more. A low, infernal growl, or was it a groan? It settled into her ears, bringing a physical sense of warmth over her, however it wasn't anything positive.

Splashes of crimson caught her attention, vivid against the strange blurry backdrop. Then, from the distorted void, something popped itself forward, its head emerging through the blurry portal, locking eyes with hers. Y/N gasped, her breath catching in her throat.

Without a second thought, she turned and fled, her heart pounding in terror. She ran aimlessly, jumping over twigs and large rocks, completely disregarding the rest of the trail that seemed to go in many directions until, by sheer chance or fate, she nearly ran into a rusted brown door reminiscent of the one in her bedroom. It rested, open just a crack. Without hesitation, she yanked the doorknob back and leaped through, the metallic clang echoing behind her as she slammed it shut.

She had practically jumped into the open space, and her body went rigid, her muscles tensing on impact. But instead of the anticipated collision with a harsh surface, she found herself sinking into something soft, almost cushion-like. Confusion began to cloud her fear as her hands met the padded interior of what seemed to be a room. Her movements were sluggish, almost as if she were submerged in water, every action a struggle against unseen resistance. Crawling on hands and knees, she blinked repeatedly, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dim, eerie glow that emanated from the sparse lighting in the room.

A solitary window perched high above caught her attention, moonbeams casting soft shadows across the room. The faint glow of moonlight offered her some kind of comfort. At least she wasn't in a ditch somewhere. The light, guiding her unsteady steps towards the distant window, felt kind of warm compared to the awfully cold air that nipped at her skin. Disoriented and off-balance, she stumbled, her senses still reeling from the transition.

As she approached the window, her hands brushed against the padded walls, seeking stability. She raised her gaze, fixating on the distant glimmer of the moonlight filtering through the solitary window.

Fumbling and uncertain, she traced the contours of the walls with her hands, feeling the padded surface in an attempt to ground herself. But before she could fully process her surroundings, a sound—a shuffle, perhaps footsteps—outside the door snapped her attention away. Her breath hitched as she stared at the door, her heart thundering in her chest. The faint glimmer of light danced across the space as a slider on the door moved, revealing only a pair of eyes peering in at her. They glinted with curiosity, holding her gaze in a silent exchange.

Y/N's mind raced with questions, her mouth parting as if to speak, yet no words came. A chill crept down her spine as a surge of apprehension washed over her. Her hand involuntarily pressed against the padded wall, seeking a false sense of security as she struggled to comprehend the oddity of her situation. 

Y/N watches intently as the person on the other side of the door turns the knob, the hinges creaking as it swings open. A blinding light spills into the room, causing Y/N to instinctively avert her gaze and squint against the sudden brightness. Slowly, her eyes adjust to the illumination, allowing her to steal a side glance at the figure that stood just at the doorway.

Recognition flickers across Y/N's mind as she discerns the person before her—a woman with fair skin and ginger hair elegantly tied up with swept, fluffy parted bangs. Despite the strangeness of the situation, she notes the woman's attire—a surgeon's uniform—with a mask loosely hanging under her chin. However, the most startling detail catches Y/N off guard—the absence of the woman's eyes. Instead, there's an unnerving expanse of smooth, featureless skin where her eyes should have been.

Confusion mingles with disbelief in Y/N's thoughts. She blinks repeatedly, hoping to dispel this surreal image that feels like a figment of her imagination. Her mind races with questions, her mouth opening as if to voice her bewilderment, yet still, she was silent.

Desperately seeking some form of reassurance, her hand instinctively presses against the padded wall behind her, though it offers no comfort against the unsettling reality she's confronted with. In a state of disbelief and growing unease, Y/N froze. Her eyes were wide, eyebrows high. She felt so cold, despite the warmth that spilled into the room from the other side. The woman's plump, glossy pink lips held a cigarette. She seemed confused, arms crossed as she leaned on her hip. A dent formed in which her eyebrows were meant to be, as if she was contemplating how this stranger got here. 

For an eternal moment that feels suspended in time, Y/N remains frozen, unable to process the nightmarish sight before her. Yet, as she blinks, a sudden change unfolds. The woman, initially standing at the door, now leans in, her hands extending around the doorframe as her body seems to elongate. Her foot juts forward as if ready to step inside, but something is different.

The woman looms taller, her head protruding into the room, and a ghastly grin spreads across her face, her jaw extended to an inhumane rate. Y/N's horrified gaze fixates on a single, glistening eyeball resting upon the woman's tongue. The eye seems to fixate directly on Y/N, the same tint of amber from the slider on the door. Unable to contain her ever-growing (and never ending, it seems) fear, Y/N chokes up, her breath catching in her throat, a primal instinct compelling her to scream. But before the scream could tear from her throat, the woman, now twisting her body with a series of bone-cracking sounds, begins to crawl into the padded room. Her movements contort unnaturally as if defying the laws of physics, each bone-crunching twist amplifying the discomfort building in the atmosphere.

The cigarette that dangled from the woman's lips moments ago falls, landing on the padded floor. Strangely, it doesn't extinguish upon impact but continues to burn, creating a sizzling sound against the padded surface. The acrid scent of burning material adds to the sensory overload of the scene before the innocent woman, feeling herself begin to slip from the fingers of reality. If, that's what you could call this.

As the woman morphs further, her form distorts into something incomprehensible. The room seems to warp around her, shadows elongating and contorting with her every movement. The mask that rested underneath her chin disintegrated, along with her fair skin that seemed to burn away in Swiss-cheese like patterns until patches of the meat and muscle became apparent, her skin just barely hanging on. Her hair seemed to thin and fall out, while the cap dissolved, the faint sound of cracking bones intermingles with a low, guttural growl emanating from the creature, now towering over Y/N, its jaw hanging for its eye to continue to stare down upon her. 

It drew nearer, emitting a stomach-churning odor of decaying flesh and bone and blood that overwhelmed her senses. Tears welled in her eyes, her brows and lip quivering as she recoiled, attempting to move as far back as possible while the creature advanced. In the depths of its mouth, its eye swiveled around, a soft clicking resonating through its towering form. Y/N's fingers dug into the wall behind her, desperately seeking something to hold onto.

"N—No. . ." A feeble protest escaped her parched throat, the words torn from her with the anguish of a thousand blades slicing through her vocal cords.

"NO!" A shriek tore from her throat, a mix of revulsion and fury contorting her face as she glared up at the creature.

Sliding down the wall in a final attempt to escape, she scrambled to the corner of the room. Only upon huddling up into the corner and snapping her gaze toward where the creature would have been did she realize that it was gone. The overpowering stench that had made her wanna hurl had dissipated, leaving a heavy silence in the air.

Reluctantly, Y/N lowered her gaze, turning her attention to the woman by the door. Standing with arms at her sides, instead of moving forward, she was stepping back. Her wide amber eyes shook with fear, her cigarette burnt to the butt, a small mound of ashes on the cold floor beneath. Her skin remained intact, her entire form unaltered. If anything, she seemed just as terrified as Y/N. Before Y/N could comprehend what just had happened, the woman forcefully shut the door, the lock clicking into place. Breathing heavily, Y/N was left in her confusion. She squeezed her eyes shut, the sounds of heavy footsteps and soft creaking floorboards settling into her ears, the light fading away, dominated by the darkness.

For a while, the world remained distant, her mind a jumble of fragmented thoughts and sensations before it all began to slip away. She felt herself floating, while she began to feel her limbs spread underneath a warm, familiar fabric. The creaking of the floorboards continued, accompanied by the gentle click of an opening door. Then, a soft breath caressed her ear, and a delicate touch brushed against a strand of her hair. She froze, every muscle tensing as a gentle hand continued, tenderly stroking her hair. As the fingers trailed down the strand, Y/N remained motionless, her body unresponsive. A voice, momentarily unfamiliar, deep and paternal, settled through her eardrums like melted butter.

"It's time for your medicine, my dear," the man's voice resonated softly, hardly above a whisper.

Every single Proxies x Reader fanfiction ever:

Started writing a tim wright/masky x reader fanfic!!!

Will have lots of hurt/comfort (yum yum)

First chapter is up on both wattpad and ao3!

Wattpad

happy to be in your shadow // tim wright x reader

A self-indulgent Tim Wright x reader fanfic, I luff him!!! Possible slowburn, will have hurt/comfort :)) Two depressed...

2nd chapter of my tim wright/masky x reader fanfic is up now on both ao3 and wattpad!!!

Will have delicious hurt/comfort :)

happy almost halloween marble hornets nation!!!

Wattpad

happy to be in your shadow // tim wright x reader

A self-indulgent Tim Wright x reader fanfic, I luff him!!! Possible slowburn, will have hurt/comfort :)) Two depressed...

Some doodles of tim from my post-marble hornets winter fanfic... i lurv him... gaAHHH

read the oneshot here :) :

Wattpad

tim wright x reader oneshots // marble hornets

Small separate Tim Wright x reader oneshots!!!! Eventually lots of diff scenarios to giggle and kick your feet to...

car seat headrest lyrics and marble hornets...

Something i thought of from my tim wright x reader fanfic..

Chapter 3 up now!!!

Wattpad

happy to be in your shadow // tim wright x reader

A self-indulgent Tim Wright x reader fanfic, I luff him!!! Possible slowburn, will have hurt/comfort :)) Two depressed...

Because you're his || Masky

Pairing : Tim Wright × Reader

Genre : Yandere

Warnings: A lot of violent toughs and a dumb boyfriend

Summary : He's always wondered if she was still thinking about him. Now it was time to really find out.

Wordcount: 1.2k

[ A/N: This one's for Cliché Videostar (someone on Quotev), sorry for the long wait. Ps, Marble Hornets scary as shit. Anyway, Enjoy!]

-

His mind is focused at the road in front of him. Bags are under his eyes of sleep deprivation, but he can't bring himself to sleep. 

After all, he hasn't neared his destination just yet.

He's always wondered if she was still thinking about him. Now it was time to really find out.

It's been about 4 years since he's seen her, so he really hopes that she hasn't changed.

He glances at the white mask in the bag in the passenger seat, and is almost overcome with an urge to relive it.

After all, α new town, α new start.

- Ⴆҽƈαυʂҽ  

You hum to yourself as you watch the movie on the screen, barely singing allong to it.

You've seen this movie over a twenty times, yet it still captures you as it once did.

And so you're shaken up when the doorbell suddenly rings, and you barely spill the popcorn in your grasp over your couch.

" Babe! Can you get it?!" Your boyfriend yells from upstairs.

You grumble but yell out a reply as you get up, silently complaining about who would dare to disturb you at this hour of the night.

You look out of your front window, and tick on it when you don't see anyone.

The person who turns to face you makes your heart skip a beat.

Tim.

Your friend.

Or well, he was your friend.

Until you moved away 4 years ago.

" Babe! Is it a stranger?! " Jack yells suddenly, making you break the intense eye contact you held with Tim.

" No! It's an old friend of mine. Don't worry!" You yell back.

Moments later you're opening up the front door and the two of you are studying each other for the changes you've gone trough before you break it.

" So, what are you doing here?" You ask him, making him stop checking you out and look at your eyes.

Tim licks his lips and looks away for a short moment.

Ł'vɇ ₭łⱡⱡɇđ ø₣₣ ₳ ₩ⱨøⱡɇ ₮ø₩₦ ₳₦đ ₦ø₩ ₮ⱨɇɏ ₳ɽɇ ₵ⱡø₴ɇ ₮ø ₣ł₦đł₦₲ øʉ₮, ₴ø Ł'vɇ đɇ₵łđɇđ ₮ø ₥øvɇ ø₦.

" I wanted to get in touch with you again. A lot has happened in these past four years, and I just..... Needed, to see you." He says as he looks off to the side, hoping you buy his lie.

" It's been four years Tim. What made you unable to come any sooner?" You ask him sharply, not about to let him in just yet.

" Everyone's dead. Jay, Jessica, Brain, everyone." He doesn't look at you as he tells you.

₦ø₩ ₮ⱨ₳₮ Ł ₮ⱨł₦₭ ₳฿øʉ₮ ł₮? ₩ⱨɏ đłđ₦'₮ ɏøʉ đłɇ ₩ł₮ⱨ ₮ⱨɇ₥.

You gasp and step back a bit.

" What? How? What happened?" You ask him concerned, not understanding how this could happen.

" Alex killed everyone." Tim says, now turning his gaze back onto you.

Your eyes widen even further, not believing the words which leave his mouth.

Øⱨ Ł ₴ɇɇ, ɏøʉ'ɽɇ ₮øø ₱ɽɇ₵łøʉ₴ ₮ø ₭łⱡⱡ.

You turn silent at his answer, tough there is an unquestionable question in your eyes.

" He got away. I don't know what happened to him." Tim lies smoothly again.

You look even further afraid of that.

Đø₦'₮ ₩øɽɽɏ, ₮ⱨɇ ø₦ⱡɏ ø₦ɇ ₩ⱨø'ⱡⱡ ɇvɇɽ ₵₳ʉ₴ɇ ɏøʉ ₱₳ł₦ ₩łⱡⱡ ฿ɇ ₥ɇ. Ɏøʉ ₥ł₲ⱨ₮ ฿ɇ ₮ø ₱ɽɇ₵łøʉ₴ ₮ø ₭łⱡⱡ, ฿ʉ₮ ₳ɽɇ ɏøʉ ₮ø ₱ɽɇ₵łøʉ₴ ₮ø ⱨʉɽ₮ ₮øø?

" Babe? Who's this? Is everything okay here?" Your boyfriend Jack comes up behind you and looks at Tim.

฿₳฿Ɇ?

" I'm Tim, a childhood friend of Y/N." Tim tells him smoothly.

Your boyfriend turn to look at you for confirmation, but you're too far sunk away in your toughs to process the current situation.

Jack looks concerned, but Tim is quick to explain before Jack can snap you out of your state and let the male send him away.

" She just heard that her friends were killed by one of our own, I think she's having a hard time." Tim's excuse is poorly put into words, but he knows no better as someone with barely any feelings.

" Oh. Damn, I'm sorry to hear this. You must've driven a shit end if you're here at this time of the night to tell her. Please, come in. Want something to drink?" Jack asks as he wordlessly leads you gently back inside as Tim closes the door behind the three of you.

" Some tea would be nice." Tim tells him as he takes his shoes off.

Jack nods, and after he drops you off in the livingroom, he makes his way to the kitchen.

" Are you okay?" Tim asks you, already crossing the line as he sits too close to you.

You shake your head and nod, still not in the right mind to process the current situation.

" I'm fine." You squeak out.

Tim takes the fragile response as a opportunity to wrap his arms around you, and to try and pull you into his embrace.

You push him away, and at that exact moment, Jack walks in. 

Jack looks between the two of you before taking your hand and whispering something in your ear, to which you nod and Tim sharpens his gaze.

Đø₦'₮ ₮₳ⱡ₭ ₮ø ₥ɏ ₱ɽø₱ɇɽ₮ɏ.

You walk away, and Jack turns to Tim with his arms crossed.

" Look, I don't want to misinterpret the situation or something, but it seemed as if you were trying to make a move on my girlfriend." Jack says, as Tim just blinks due to his tiredness.

" Alright, um, where do you stay for tonight?" Jack asks, as Tim looks around in panic.

Ɏøʉɽ ⱨøʉ₴ɇ.

" I, uh, didn't really think that trough to be honest." Tim says, scratching the back of his neck.

" Fine. You can stay here for the night. You can sleep on the couch." 

- Ⴆҽƈαυʂҽ - ყσυ'ɾҽ 

" Listen. I don't know, I know that he's my childhood friend and all that, but there's just something.... Weird, about him. I don't know. He's just looking at me differently... Or something. I don't know. I just- I don't trust him." 

Tim hears you as he passed by your bedroom the next morning, making his hand ball into a fist.

₩ⱨ₳₮ ₮ⱨɇ ₣ʉ₵₭? Ł'ⱡⱡ ₥₳₭ɇ ɏøʉ ɽɇ₲ɽɇ₮ ₴₱ɇ₳₭ł₦₲ ₮ⱨø₴ɇ ₩øɽđ₴ ₳฿øʉ₮ ₥ɇ.

" He's just had it rough too, baby. Just give him some time." He hears your boyfriend tell you.

₴₮ʉ₱łđ ₳₴₴ⱨøⱡɇ, đø₦'₮ ₳₵₮ ₴₩ɇɇ₮ ₩ⱨɇ₦ ɏøʉ'vɇ ₮₳₭ɇ₦ ₩ⱨ₳₮'₴ ₥ł₦ɇ.

" Fine. But he really can't stay over tonight." You tell Jack.

Tim clenches his fists.

He'll work this out.

- Ⴆҽƈαυʂҽ - ყσυ'ɾҽ - ϝυƈƙιɳɠ

Tim eyes the sleeping couple trough the eye holes of his mask. The both of you are asleep, your guard down, before looking at the weapon in the palm of his hand.

It's shine may be long gone because of the amount of dead blood that's on it, but that never made it any of less worth than it is now.

You were smart. He had to give you on account for that.

Your boyfriend should really have listened to you.

A sadistic smile makes it's way to his face as he starts swinging his weapon.

Ⴆҽƈαυʂҽ - ყσυ'ɾҽ - ϝυƈƙιɳɠ - ɱιɳҽ