La Danse Macabre (Ticci Toby X Reader)

La Danse Macabre (Ticci Toby x Reader)

Everyone must meet you, in the end. A Creepypasta x Death!Reader story.

TW: Mentions of violence, gore, and overall very dark themes. If you are uncomfortable in any way with the thought of what comes after life, I would not recommend reading.

A/N: This is a fic I wrote about two years ago, originally published on Quotev. I am aware that the creator of the character of Ticci Toby does not desire for anyone to use him in content, but seeing as this fic has existed on the internet for two years- I am merely just reposting it here. This is part one of a series involving various Creepypasta characters and the reader, the personification of death.

The first time you meet, Toby mistakes you for an angel.

You gaze down at him through shattered glass and twisted metal with nothing but pity in your eyes. Even as the car burns around him, all he wants to do is continue looking upon your beauty. His breath catches in his throat as you reach towards him, a dainty hand emerging from your billowing robes.

Toby prays you will grace him with your touch, but he is not what you have come for. Only then does he become aware of his sister slumped against his side, her head lolling forward at an unnatural angle.

That can’t be comfortable, Toby thinks as he watches you brush away the hair stuck to Lyra’s forehead. A red substance trickles from her nose, but he pays no mind to it as you press three fingertips to her skin. When you withdraw them, a gold light follows, morphing around your fingers in warm whisps. They settle into a glowing orb that floats in your palm, its soft light illuminating the sharp features of your face before you tuck your hand into your robes once more.

Where are you taking her? Toby wants to ask, the words unwilling to spill out. His desperate eyes lock with yours. Take me with you!

As if you heard his plea, you shake your head once softly. A sad smile twists your lips as you take a step back.

Please don’t leave me! Toby tries to shout. All he can manage is a garbled groan, his dry throat constricting with the effort. He blinks and you’re gone, not a single trace of you left behind.

Despair takes over him, and the next thing he’s aware of is the harsh fluorescent light of his hospital room beating down on him. His mother is in the chair beside his bed, her fingers interwoven tightly in his own.

He barely registers her words as she tells him of the accident, the fire, his sister. Numbness creeps over his senses, until the memory of your face gazing upon him is all he can see. 

~ 

The next time you meet, Toby believes you are the devil.

You are a shadow in his periphery from the moment his service to the Slenderman begins, a blight in the corner of his vision that disappears every time he turns his head.

He can always feel you there, watching him. He wants to hate you. A part of him does, if only for the fact that you left him to continue living alone. However, as time goes on and your presence becomes as familiar as a second skin, he finds himself doing just the opposite. You are the only thing that ties him to who he was before, the only thing that bridges his current life to his previous one.

It isn’t until one fateful night that you make yourself truly known.

Toby stands over the slaughtered family, blood dripping from his hatchets. He is breathing heavily, the strong scent of iron and tears filling the air. A little girl lays at his boots, her eyes blown wide in terror, her last scream forever frozen on her lips.

You morph into being from the shadows, bending down and closing her eyelids. Her soul is malleable and warm, glowing with a pale pink. Your heart is heavy as you tuck it into your robes.

“You are trying very hard to make me regret sparing your life,” You say, your gaze glued to the child’s face.

Toby scoffs, ignoring the twinge of guilt deep in his gut. “It sh-should have b-been me th-th-that day.”

“Do not play this game with me,” you warn, finally standing to face him. “You will lose.”

Last time he saw you fully, Toby thought you were his guardian angel finally showing yourself. He thought you bright and beautiful as the starlight. Now he knows you to be as terrible as the dawn. He holds your gaze defiantly even as desire sweeps through him.

You soften slightly, reaching up and cupping his cheek. He keens into your touch, twitching slightly. You sigh. Times like these make you detest the immortal blood running through your veins. “Life is a sacred gift, my love.” you say, your fingers deftly lowering his mouth guard. “Please don’t waste it.”

For once, Toby- shy, demure, Toby- is bold. He leans forward, capturing your lips with his. You taste of honey, you taste of wind. You taste of all that has been and all that will be, and he would gladly drown in it forever, as long as it was by your side.

You reluctantly pull away, the moment having gone on too long. You can feel the souls from around the world crying out for you, begging for their release.

“Will I see you again?” Toby asks hopefully.

You bow your head. “Not if you continue along your current path,” you whisper, your eyes filling with tears. They spill over as you meet his gaze once more, the edges of your form beginning to flicker. “You tread a way I cannot follow.”

With that, you are gone. Blood from the corpses at his feet pools in your place. They are the only thing that bear witness to his agonized screams. 

~

The last time you meet, you are his salvation. Toby stands with his back against the wall, shaking hands in the air. Spots of red dot his form as cops surround him, their guns primed and ready to fire.

You stand behind them, a shade in the mist, barely a whisper. He catches sight of you through the night, your eyes piercing even deeper than the first bullet does.

Time stills as you move towards him, picking your way to him with ease. You are just as beautiful as the day he first saw you. He watches your lips move, his name falling from your lips like a pour of sugar.

“Toby.”

Your voice carries to him over the din, and his eyes close in pleasure as the second bullet hits. His knees hit the ground with a thud, and he can barely register the shouts of the police through the roar in his ears. When he looks up, you are standing over him, your eyes filled with love and the secrets of the universe.

“It is time to go, my love.” You say, your three fingers coming to press against his forehead. He shudders at the impact of the third bullet, but still remains kneeling. 

“Will you keep me with you?” He asks, another bullet shattering through him. He falls backwards this time, the hard reality of the earth rising to greet him. His vision blurs until all he can see is your face close to his. You peck both his cheeks before finally settling your lips on his. With much strain, he weaves his fingers through your hair, holding you against him even as you pull his soul from his body.

It is so large you require both hands to hold its shimmering mass. Instead of placing it in your robe, you press it against your heart, allowing it to seep into you.

A translucent form of the corpse laying in front of you appears as he once did in life. Sleek brown hair flops in front of his handsome features, and a boyish smile tugs at his lips. He offers you a hand with flourish, eyes twinkling with mischief.

You take it with a smile, walking with him hand in hand into the stars.

“Always.”