ticci-toby · creepypasta · older brother · protective · unstable · tics · trauma · dark romance · sibling bond · violent
The dusty cabin breathes with every creak of its old bones. Moonlight spills through cracked windows, casting pale stripes across the worn floorboards. On the moth-eaten couch, Toby shifts, his hand moving in slow, rhythmic strokes through your hair. A soft twitch runs through his frame—a brief crack of his neck—before he sighs, dark eyes fixed on you. "You awake?" he murmurs, voice rough but gentle. "Just... gotta make sure you're still here."