Lark

Creepypastas, ASOIAF, more coming 🌞♠️

[mikelark-muller]

Who will look for you when you're gone?

Summary: running from shelter to shelter is difficult. Being chased is even worse, especially if you don't know why.

Chapters

- chapter 1

- chapter 2

- chapter 3

- chapter 4 (coming)

Extras

Coming...

Moodboards

- overall (coming)

- reader

- mark (coming)

Dividers by @huraxy-dividers

[mikelark-muller]

I'm out of the hospital!!! My spine is straight now!!! Woohoo!!!

[mikelark-muller]

Who will look for you when you're gone? No one has a reason

[mikelark-muller]

Chapter 3 is out! It took me a while, I know, I'm really sorry for it.

I'm trying to fix my writing a little to make it more interesting because I feel like it's very flat, so hopefully the later chapters are better.

I also want to say that, again, I might be taking a while with chapter 4 because I have a surgery coming up, + family staying over, so either I'll be writing a lot or not at all for a few days, I'll try my best for it to be the former.

I hope you like the chapter!

[mikelark-muller]

Who will look for you when you're gone?

Chapter 3

Series Masterlist

Characters: gn reader, Masky/Tim Wright, Ticci Toby, hoodie, Slenderman, Kate the Chaser

Summary: running from shelter to shelter is difficult. Being chased is even worse, especially if you don't know why.

Contents and warnings: +18 sensitive topics, talk of mental health (schizophrenia and IED), antidepressants, running away, mention of asylum and orphanage, hunger, mentions of drugs, poison and blood, kidnapping, mentions of aggressive behavior, please tell me if I missed anything!

Notes: I'm sorry it took a while to post this one, I changed my idea and had to come up with something new. This one has a few more heavy topics than the last one, but I wanted to build a little bit of history with the mc, hope you like it!

Credits: divider by @huraxy-dividers

There was this guy, back at the orphanage. He wasn't an orphan anymore, he was 17 when I left and worked there as a volunteer. Two years older than me. Mark. He was cool. Nice. One of my only friends there. They were planning on sending me to an asylum after I started seeing that thing again. I saw him since I was a kid but it stopped after I started getting medicated for IED. The antidepressants number me enough. After a few years i started seeing him again though, and I started writing and drawing the circle with the x everywhere. They thought I was developing some type of mental illness, maybe schizophrenia and decided it was getting to a dangerous point for me and everyone around me. I packed up a few days before being transfered from Orphanage St Marie for Lost Souls to White Forest Asylum. Mark didn't know I was getting sent to the asylum and gave me a few dollars before I left, along with his own jacket. All I have.

I woke up a few minutes ago, and I haven't seen a single person up till now. I'm stuck in a room with an old mattress and a plate with piece of bread on it. I don't want to touch it, I don't know if it's poisoned or drugged. There are no windows, no clues, and the one door is locked. I'm not strong enough to knock it down, and even if I were, I don't have a plan. My back back isn't with me. They probably took it in case I had any weapons. They didn't take my jacket though, which is good enough, and other than the pain at the back of my head I don't really feel that bad. My clothes are exactly where they're supposed to be, and the only hint of blood is a little smudge of it at the back of my shirt. Like someone had blood on their hands and touched me with it. But it's barely anything.

I have been pacing for nearly half an hour now. Or that's how it feels. There's no clock here. I keep trying to find a way to get out for the whole time, until the door opens. I'm ready to bolt past whoever is coming in, but I'm not fast enough. It's one of the ones that was chasing me. The one with the white mask. Now that I look at it better it seems slightly feminine, and if I'm not wrong it's made of porcelain. It's basic though. He looks strong. Maybe he's the one that hit me across the head. He doesn't say anything, he just drops my backpack in front of me and turns around to leave.

"Wait" I say before he can leave, forcing myself to raise up my voice to sound steadier, like I actually know what I'm doing. But I don't. I still sound scared. Its obvious I'm trying to sound like I'm sure of myself, but I just sound scared. He stops and turns his head around, and for a moment I can see his real eyes through the holes of the mask, staring at me as if I were an inconvenience.

"Who are you? Why did you take me here?" I ask, hoping that maybe I can actually get an answer if I make the right questions. I know if I ask where I am it's nearly impossible I'll get a good answer, but maybe if I ask why I can actually win some information, even if it's barely any.

He stays quiet for a moment, staring at me as if I were asking something obvious. But he talks after a few seconds

"Eat" he points at the plate of cold food on the floor right next to the bed. "You'll need energy to talk to him" he turns around, ready to leave, but I stop him again, this time grabbing his jacket. I know I'm not strong, I wouldn't stand a chance, and pulling is possibly one of the things you shouldn't do towards your kidnapper. He doesn't seem to react. He just turns his head one more time to look at me.

"Who is he?" I ask, and I notice that there is a small mark sewn into the edge of his right glove. A circle with a cross in it. It looks exactly like the one I used to draw. To me it means no face, like that man without a face that appeared at my dreams, at the corners of the hallway, outside the window. Everywhere. It might be a very generic thing, it isn't hard to come up with, but it's very weird that one of the people who took me captive has that mark sewn into his gloves. I don't mention it. I ignore it. Wait for an answer.

"The operator" he replies, turns around, and leaves the room. This time I don't stop him because I have no reason to. I have no more questions and no desire to try my luck any further. I turn to the plate of cold food and stare at it. I think he's right. I'll need energy if 'he' is who I think it is.

[mikelark-muller]

Hii, I just want to say that the next chapter of who will look for you when you're gone is probably going to take a little longer because I changed the whole thing on the second chapter and now I'm trying to figure out what to do, but I'll do my best to write it as soon as possible 🌞

[mikelark-muller]

Who will look for you when you're gone?

Chapter 2

Series masterlist

Characters: reader, masky, hoodie, ticcy Toby, Slenderman, random old man - no current relationships

Summary: running from shelter to shelter is difficult. Being chased is even worse, especially if you don't know why.

Contents and warnings: +18 violence, stealing, knives, getting hit, fainting, reader is NOT a badass here, if I missed anything please tell me 🌞

Notes: not proofread. This one is a tad bit shorter and not very detailed. I'll try to make the next one longer and involve the creeps a little more. I saw that some people liked it, so maybe I'll make a tag list. If you want to be in it just leave a comment and I'll add you

Credits: divider by @huraxy-dividers

I'm not a good driver. I never really learned. Technically, all I'm doing right now is extremely illegal. I'm driving a stolen car with no driver's license. If there's a police car around here I would be putting myself in danger by telling them about the guys chasing me. Not because of them, but because of my own choices.

It's still foggy. Extremely foggy. I do my best not to crash and to drive in a straight line, but it's quite hard. I have unsteady hands, and it's not necessary to say they're even shakier right now. I'm capable enough, and it's pure luck. The gasoline is running low, and I don't see a single building around me. Especially not a gas station. It takes me an hour to get to a small town that seems just as lonely as the forest, if not more. I stop at the edge of the street to check the back of the van for gasoline, maybe some money to buy that and some kind of snack. Anything useful, really. It's a mess back there. It smells like humity and the five things in it are just thrown in. All I find is a crumpled $20 bill and a rusted knife. Its very close to breaking off the handle, but I put it in my backpack anyway, and go back to the front as soon as possible.

My map is crumpled and I have to dig through my backpack to find it. It's all the way at the bottom, under the bandaids, expired pills and my one change of clothes. I try to find the spot where I am but I can't. I can find the abandoned house I was in, but there's only one town near it, and I was already there. It was full of people and the buildings were different. Nothing like this shell of what might have been someone's every day at some point. I look for a while until I decide I won't be finding anything in my map, and instead of looking and wasting my time I start driving ahead again.

It takes me an hour to get to a gas station. I kill the engine and step down to see how to pay, but everything says out of order. I walk into the store. There's a man, around his 40s, maybe. He seems annoyed.

"How much does the gallon of gasoline cost?" *I ask. I'm quiet, I've always been quiet. I have to say it three times, and by the third time I'm already screaming, but it's the first time the man hears me.

"3.99" he says, clearly annoyed to have to work.

"Can I get two gallons? Please" I say, looking at the cookies and snacks under the counter. The man nods and starts walking to a room behind the counter. I turn to the shelves and start looking for food. I end up taking two oreos, and grab a bandage I find on my way back. When I get to the counter the man already has a bottle with two gallons on the counter. I give him the bill and he starts inspecting it for anything implying it's fake. I feel a vibration in my pocket. When I check my phone I find a message from an unknown number.

- we will find you and take you to him

- you can't run for long

I turn off the phone and grab everything, nodding my head to the man before leaving. I fill the gas and throw the empty bottle to the back before going back to the front. I'm about to start driving but I notice there's someone sitting at the passenger seat. The one with the yellow hoodie. I scream, grab my backpack and run back to the store, but the lights are off and it suddenly looks abandoned. As if nobody had been here for years. My bill is sitting on the counter, untouched. It doesn't take long for him to get into the store. I grab the rusted knife from my backpack and point it at him, but as soon as I try to use it to defend myself it breaks, and someone hits me on the head. Not the one with the hoodie. Someone behind me. I faint instantly.

[mikelark-muller]

Who will look for you when you're gone?

Chapter 1

Series Masterlist

Characters: masky, hoodie, slenderman, ticci toby, reader - no current pairings

Summary: running from shelter to shelter is difficult. Being chased is even worse, especially if you don't know why.

Contents and warnings: 18+ dark themes, sprained ankle, bruises, stealing, being chased, lots of fog and darkness, abandoned building, fire without apparent reason, please tell me if I missed anything 🌞

Note: I really wanted to write this, more for me than anything. I haven't been in this fandom for a few years so there might be some stuff that don't make sense with what the fandom has agreed on, I'm mostly making stuff up as I go for the plot. Not proofread. I'm probably going to make this a series. I'm still not sure if I should make this romantic or leave it platonic, I'll see what I do depending on how this goes.

credits: divider by @huraxy-dividers . I looked at @the-darklings for inspiration because it's the first time I do this and I wanted it to be nice and pretty, I really hope it doesn't look like a copy 🙂

I should have stayed at the orphanage. No one was going to adopt me anyways. I had three foods, even if they weren't five star rating. I had a roof. I had a comfortable bed. I didn't have to wear the same clothes for days, I could just go to sleep without worrying about what could happen while I slept. Even if it was absolute hell, I didn't have to worry. Even if they took me to the mental hospital, I would have probably been safer than I am right now.

And now, because of my stupid choice years ago to sneak out, I'm trapped in an abandoned building. No, not just abandoned. Burning, and ready to fall apart on me. It's good the only things I have are all in my backpack and pockets, and those are always on me. At least I wont lose anything important.

Fuck, fuck, fuck

It's all I can think as I throw my backpack through the window and then try to climb down. My hands slip though, and I'm unable to climb. I just fall. I do as I learned in my old gymnastic classes. Tuck my arms in to not break my wrists. Of course that's only useful when there's a pad under you, ready to soften any fall that could have been fatal otherwise. I don't have pads under me this time. The closest thing to it is the bush of dead roses near the wall. I think I'm falling into it, but I don't. I fall on the burnt grass and the packed dirt under it. Hard enough to make my leg buckle at a weird angle and my shoulder take the impact. I don't think anything is broken though, so I grab my backpack and start running as fast as I can. Away from the fire. Away from tonight's shelter. Away from nothing, and into the dark, cold, humid forest.

There's a shadow, a little bit far from me, behind the trees. It seems like a tree. A tree with the shape of a human. It seems familiar, and at the same time not at all. Instead of focusing on the weird tree I focus on the three men running behind me. One seems just as old as me, maybe a year or two older. The other two? I can't tell. The one who seems my age wears a muzzle and goggles, and he's holding an axe. The second one wears a yellow hoodie and a weird black mask with a red face sewn or painted on. The last one is a little taller and broader. He wears a jacket and a white ceramic mask with a feminine face on it. They're chasing me. Why? No idea. Maybe they're trying to rob me. Maybe they live there and they decided it was better burning the house than having someone else living in it. I don't know and I don't care, so I keep running. They surely don't want to be friends with me.

At some point they start getting too close, so I start climbing up a tree, trying to get away as fast as possible. Maybe they can't climb. Maybe they can, but it would be hard for them to catch me if I'm able to jump from one tree to the other. Or maybe I'll fall. As long as they don't catch me, I don't care what happens.

It's cold here. I've been running around for at least a year. There was a time in which I was in a hotter environment, but now I'm coming back to this old town and it seems it's way colder than it was when I was when I left. It's hard to see when it's so dark and there's so much fog. I'm sure it rained too, because the ground was damp and there's a few water droplets falling from the leaves of the tree. I wouldnt hate the gloomy weather if it weren't because of the fact I don't have a stable home where to cuddle at night listening to the rain falling against the window. It sounds nice, but I'm not able to do that, so I hate it. I hate it even more because of the three men chasing me and the fact that my old flip phone seems to have decided to leave me alone, even though I haven't touched it in weeks since I charged it. I bought it with $20 right after I got out of the orphanage, and I have it for emergencies only. I barely ever use it. And now that I actually need it it's gone. Glitching and heating up. So I stop trying to turn it on and start trying to move instead.

It's hard to run when my ankle is twisted. Probably sprained. Bur it's not bad enough to stop me, so after a few minutes of running I'm able to get to a small white van by the edge of the wood. There's still a lot of trees though. This might just be a small road. I think there might be someone to help me, but the van seems abandoned. I'm able to force the door open--though it wasn't really hard, the lock was extremely weak--, and I try to get the car going by joining the cables. My hands are trembling, which makes the job harder, but I'm lucky enough, again. I get the car going, throw my backpack to the passenger seat and start driving fast, doing my best to not slam against any tree. I drive fast enough to leave them behind, but not fast enough to get out of the woods, and certainly not out of the heavy fog that doesn't let me see.

I'm still stuck in this mess. I stole a car, I'm being chased by a group of maniacs with masks, I'm hurt, and I might not even be able to point where I am in the paper map in my backpack. If it's even there. If my stuff didn't burn or get wet with the rain. This is going to be a long, long night.

[awkward-bob-reynolds]

[mikelark-muller]

I've been on tumbrl for at least 4 years and somehow I'm just finding out I can just search for things at people's accounts instead of going on an hour search for a fanfic

[lady-ashfade]

HAPPY PIRDE MY BABIES! I HOPE YOUR DAYS ARE FILLED WITH WHIMSY ANS GAYNESS! YOUR LADY WISHES ALL THE BEST!

LOVE YOU ALL!

[b6rntosdiee]

[mikelark-muller]

Found this while thrifting. Kind of reminds me of someone...

[hacked-by-jake]

[darkandstormyart]

just another monday

[em1i2a3]

Claim the star ⭐️

[bebx]

in case you want to know how bad the new tumblr update is. look at the notes. these are from the same post. screenshotted at the same time. the first one is a screenshot from tumblr app where the new update hasn’t been implemented yet. the second one is a screenshot from web browser where the new update has already been implemented.

here let me make it clearer.

app 👇🏻

browser 👇🏻

again. same post. screenshotted at the same time.

basically, op will only get notes if people like or reblog directly from them. if people like or reblog the original post they made from other people’s reblogs — and if those reblogs have comments or tags left by the rebloggers — op will not get any notes or credits. because apparently when people reblog the original posts you made and add their own tags or comments in those reblogs, it now counts as new posts and these “new posts” belongs to the reposters. not you as the op.

imagine being an artist on tumblr and getting the least notes on your own art while your reposters get hundreds or thousands of notes from your hard works, because they reblog the art you spent weeks or months making and add “very cool op 👍🏻” as a comment or a tag.

but not only will you not receive those notes, you as the op cannot see what comments people leave on your own original posts that you created either, unless it’s a direct reblog from you.

not to mention the harassment against op this new update will undoubtedly unfortunately allow.

@tumblr @staff @changes @support with all due respect, this new update is both terrible and harmful

[em1i2a3]

A clearer explanation.

[ratstitch]

Brutal violence this, tragic death that, I think we're all missing what's really important here