carn4g3

19. I'm a creep. I'm a weirdo. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[carn4g3]

❧ Welcome

Hi, my name is carn or carnage! I'm mainly a creepypasta writer (sfw only right now), hopefully you'll stick around and check out some of my stuff :)

Requests / CLOSED (Just until I can catch up on some stuff)

Asks / OPEN

The Night Shift | Various Creepypasta x GN Reader

You lived a far from standard life for as long as you had been an adult. You switched from small town to small town almost every couple months either from a failed relationship or another... incident. Fortunately, you never found it too hard to find work. After all, no one looked for graveyard shifts quite like you did. This town is different from the others, though. Maybe you aren't as alone in your issues as you thought you were. (Quotev) 44 parts / 144k words

Masterlist | Everything.

Request Info | also linked above

[carn4g3]

Ello there!!! I recently read your night shift fic and I gotta say I’m a fan of your writing! I’ve been browsing in the Creepypasta community for a while and it’s been hard for me to get into fics that involve Creepypasta/marble hornets. Though I find myself enjoying your work very much. Plus I’m a big fan of the MC having common sense and some sense of dignity for themself.🥺

I also liked how you didn’t shy away from the idea that having any relationship with the pastas would be toxic in some degree. I mean, they kill people.

That to mention, I’d like to make a small hc request if that’s okay with you #^ ^#

The characters can be of your choosing as I don’t mind. But I am a bit of a sucker for Tim and Brian.

This can be a yandere hc if you want. But if not, then I don’t mind :)

What would be some headcanons from the characters if MC decides to cut the Pastas out of their life completely? I’m quite curious to know how they’ll react if MC decides to just disappear from their lives with intentional success. 👀

Cause it’d be funny for them to see MC recognize that being with them isn’t healthy and just dip for a more healthy lifestyle.

Similar to a breakup if you will 😅 in this context it’d be safe to assume if the reader and the pastas have a close relationship.

Sorry for sending you such a long request to read, I tend to ramble a lot since I have a lot in my mind 😓 but I hope you have a wonderful day/night!

You Distance Yourself from Them

Characters: Tim Wright (Masky), Brian Thomas (Hoodie), Bloody Painter, BEN Drowned x GN Reader

TWs: Descriptions of stalking, kidnapping, yandere behaviors, unhealthy relationships & violence (don't aspire for men like this pls)

Word Count: 2.4k (~600 each)

A/N: Don't be sorry anon, I love long requests (it gives me a lot to work with lol)

Masky

You must have warned him of this day a million times over. Each utterance of I can't keep doing this, Tim or I'm so fucking tired, surely would have queued any normal partner into the other's frustrations. But, he couldn't say he really internalized it then. Sure, he would do damn near anything to convince you that this time he would change. And, truthfully, Tim did try. But, when he inevitably failed, he never thought you really meant all those things you said.

Now, he feels like an idiot. Standing before your home, he had banged his fist on the door for who knows how long. Upon receiving no response, it was only natural that he saw it fit to enter with the key he had stolen against your better wishes. It was for your safety, he told himself, you might be hurt and unable to let him in.

As the doorknob twisted open, the familiar scent of your home hit him but none of the sights. Your ash-stained furniture (Tim's own doing, he would admit), sparkly trinkets, and the stupid decorations he once enjoyed were all completely gone. Frantically calling and texting your number, he quickly concluded that you had blocked him everywhere possible. Even the blank social media account he had made to like your posts was unable to access you.

Tim feels nothing but blinding rage at first. Good luck getting your security deposit back when your landlord reports you supposedly left a hole in the dry wall and kicked in a kitchen cabinet or two. Tim isn’t used to feeling embarrassment like this, and the only way he knows how to react is to seek revenge. For a moment, perhaps even the first time in your whole relationship, he’s not beating himself up for being a bad partner. Sure, the alternative is that he wants to bash your head in, but that’s a small price to pay for some character development. 

In reality, he’s never going to enact said revenge, assuming you’re smart. Though he can track people on his own, the luxury of handing the tedious task to others has rusted his skills. Unfamiliar with your friends and family, the few people he does manage to contact are not the ones who have information on your whereabouts. On top of that, he has hardly any of the knowledge to trace you through your phone, and he would die before asking BEN to do it for him.

It takes a while for him to find you, and that distance easily mellows him out a bit. Happy memories with you bring a bitter smile to his face, regret fills him when he’s reminded of his past failures, and, above all, he hopes that all will be resolved once he sees you again. That’s how it’s always worked before, right?

Upon seeing you, he completely freezes. While the thought of getting his revenge isn’t an entirely forgotten one, it dissipates entirely when he’s starkly reminded that this is you. Why would he ever hurt you? Tim fumbles for a bit, the snarky greeting, the gentler apologies, everything he planned out escapes from his grasp just like that. And, he has no hope of catching it once he recognizes that look on your face as disappointment. 

Once you see Tim, you know the distance you’ve created is long gone. As always, he acts like he’s listening to and understanding of your reasons, seeming apologetic, promising he won’t get in your way again, but it’s a total lie. Every few months, you’ll see that stark white mask and tan jacket in the corner of your vision. You know he’s watching from a far, lingering near your home and any other spaces he learns that you frequent. At the very least, he doesn’t approach… usually. 

When he does get close, too close even, you know it’s not for any good reason. He’ll bang on your door, yelling muffled threats through the wall, maybe even break something if he’s feeling particularly volatile. He hasn’t hurt you physically, but you can’t be sure he won’t with the way he threatens to choke you out for crossing me, you bitch! He’s always gone before the police arrive, and it’s not like they can go after a man who, as far as they know, is dead. 

Hoodie

No matter how well you think you know Brian, you'll never grasp the full extent of his stalking behavior. Saying he’s away for a mission, you know he uses that as a coverup to watch you from the bushes for the week. Nothing he says could be true, and that’s the most infuriating thing about him.

The pre-planning is likely the most difficult part. Even if Brian is, for real, gone, you’ve found a number of his hidden cameras before. Always camcorders he’s stuffed in expertly innocuous positions, you know he can’t access any sort of live feed, but likely views the footage he records often. Researching places to go while in your own home isn’t safe nor is leaving too frequently either. At the end of the day, you have to come to terms with a half baked plan. Hoping you can string things together once you're there, you take whatever can be most easily transported and go. 

For their safety more than your own, you opt to avoid telling anyone where you’re going. Under the best circumstances, Brian might attempt to charm his way into getting answers from your friends or family about your whereabouts. You remember when he came off as quite the charismatic guy with a dimpled smile and a southern drawl, but that version of his has long been tainted in your mind. On the other hand, you know exactly what he can do to someone to get answers from them. No matter how good their acting and lying may be, you didn’t want to subject the closest people you know to such sadism. Though, you could only cross your fingers that he doesn’t do it anyways.

Unlike Tim, Brian doesn’t actually feel any rage upon seeing you gone. As hard as you tried, you can’t hide much from the man who’s forcibly made his way inside your life and mind. A few things here or there slipped, and he knew you were thinking about leaving. To an extent, he let you disappear. Choosing not to further pursue what location you were thinking, Brian sees this as some sort of game of cat and mouse. 

Only partially better than his counterpart at tracking others, Brian starts the search for you almost instantly. Going through the footage he missed, watching you pack your things, he uses whatever little clues he can to get a head start. Inevitably, he hits a few road blocks in his search, but they’re nothing more than a stark reminder that his tech skills aren’t as advanced as they once were. In the end, he finds you after a few weeks, feeling akin to having completed a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle. 

Despite it all, he’s not completely pleased about your sudden disappearance. This might have been a fun game and all, but he doesn’t want you to think you can just get away with this whenever the hell you want. To hammer that point in, Brian will mess with you before totally revealing himself. He knows exactly what will scare you, what little things you’ll notice have moved or gone missing, and he relishes that look of fear on your face when you’ve realized he’s found you again. 

Your only saving grace is that Brian, to the slightest extent, does respect that you don’t want to maintain a close relationship anymore. He doesn’t force you to make a place for him in your home. He had his fun playing the role of your boyfriend, but, now, he can be content just watching. Is that better or worse than him just being a permanent fixture in your life? Who knows. But, he does take the time to let you know he’s watching– just in case you’re thinking about moving again. 

Bloody Painter

Before you even realized what was going on, Helen had you damn near collared and leashed. He’s always in your home, tracking your location when you leave, and becoming extra clingy when you grow distant. Somewhere behind the scenes, he had managed to cut you off from your closest friends and family. Finally coming to your senses about this whole relationship, you find yourself completely and utterly alone in, what you’re beginning to realize is, your escape. 

Unless you’re a particularly good actor, Helen notices there's a shift in your attitude towards him quickly. At first, he considers tying you up, locking you in a room until he can be at your side 24/7. But, it would be quite the hassle to keep you from dying if he needed to be away for an extended period of time. So, instead, he threatens you. Where a normal partner might reiterate sweet nothings, Helen is reminding you of his exceptional skills in tracking down “lost victims” and their brutal treatment upon being found. I ended up peeling their nails off one by one. They had already lost a few when I dragged them back, and it would be a shame to leave them looking uneven. As he lovingly embraces you, your pulse pounding against his innocently placed hands, he feels more confident that you’ll think twice before leaving. 

If you still think you have a chance, he’ll hold some begrudging respect upon finding you vanished. It takes balls to defy him like that, but Helen is certainly not kinder because of it. You’ve still burdened him with the task of tracking you down when he would have much rather spent the time holding you in his arms and etching your features onto yet another canvas. 

Only having one chance to leave and likely without a vehicle as well, you probably didn’t take much with you. Even so, Helen has long since thought up a variety of ways to keep tabs on your location and treasured items. While he hasn’t gone so far as to microchip you or anything (though, he might consider it after all this), he isn’t against putting trackers in your favorite clothes, bags, or other essentials where possible. You’re unlikely to think up every place he’s hidden something, but it wouldn’t matter anyways. He knows you can’t go far, and, even if you did, he knows every last place you would think of hiding. 

Your time away from him is brief, to say the least. He wastes no time in tracking you down and returning you to where you belong. There is nothing you could say to convince him that this is not the life you are destined for. He’ll drag you back kicking and screaming if need be.

After it all, he’s hardly going to let you get away thinking you can do something like that again. If you weren’t already living in a location of his choosing, miles away from society, and locked to anyone but him, you’re there now. Helen isn’t opposed to hurting you to make his point clear, but he won’t go that far this first time. You still hold a soft spot in his heart that can’t fully bear to treat you like one of his victims. If this is a repeated occurrence, however, he will use whatever means are most successful to keep you with him. 

BEN Drowned

Gonna start this one off on a different angle than the others. BEN knows he's not a normal guy, much less a good one. No matter what problems you have in the relationship, he's unlikely to fix it. So, he can understand why you want to leave him. At the least, just shoot him a goodbye before you do.

That being said, he hasn't respected your space and privacy throughout your entire relationship, so why would he start now that you've left? Obviously, it's quite literally impossible to get away from BEN when, one way or another, he can find a way to wiggle back into your life.

Cutting technology out of your life as much as possible is easier said than done. Maybe you can ditch your phone, live on library computers and no TV, but it only encourages BEN to go after you more. One way or another, he'll figure out how to remind you of his existence. The analog clock on your microwave? Instead of the time, it displays the message GET A PHONE I MISS U :(

Keeping your tech habits the same still invites him in, though he's not nearly as interested as if you were to shut him out entirely. It doesn't take long for him to find where you've gone. Your digital footprint is like a flaming lead to him, after all.

Everything he does is to get a reaction out of you, that's how he's always been. Crashing your computer with the error reading you shouldn't have done that or messaging your social media accounts with some faceless alternate saying lookin good baby ;), his possibilities are endless.

Surprisingly, he doesn't care to pop up physically, even though he easily could. Unsure of what he would say to you and knowing he would fumble it somehow, he chooses to just lurk behind the screen instead. On occasion, he uses this particular ability out of sight from you. Left your phone in the car? Actually, it's sitting just outside your door, don't forget it again. Forgot something on your grocery list? No need to go back, it's already on your kitchen counter (and no, he didn't pay for it).

After a while, his interferences slow as he realizes he won't get any special reactions out of you. Though, as always, you still draw him in somehow. He still keeps tabs on your location, making sure you're alright from that information alone. Perhaps, he makes a bad habit of keeping track of things that he shouldn't. It was so easy to crack into your bank account anyways, he's simply watching it to make sure no one else does the same. And, who cares if he's transferring you money when the amount gets too low? It's all meaningless to him anyways.

Despite his insistence that he's perfectly fine with you distancing yourself, a part of him hopes you'll come back to him on your own terms. Maybe you'll see him doing these nice things for you and remember that he can be a good partner... sometimes.

[chemical-processes]

🌱 wip game🌱

rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have wips.

Thanks for the tag @vamillepudding!

revenant

Inheritance

Side of your father

these are high pressure tags. if you don't play my feelings will be hurt forever @coquitten @galaxythreads

[coquitten]

omg <33 @chemical-processes appreciate the pressure tag >:D

1. Stupid pepsicola fic (hs)

2. In my mouth (hs)

3. Ruiner (hs)

4. My best friend's brother (hs)

5. This hurts (hs)

6. Learned helplessness (hs)

7. There's no world without you (spn)

oh god. i live in wip nation

@diet-marzipan @ghosty-the-grim-fairy @im-going-insane87 @lightningxwave @wingolight @wrenzers and any other moot who writes or draws tbh :D

[grimdark-dungeon]

Thank you for the tag 💕

1. Teehee; the sequel

2. Tale of two Stans ;)

3. Part 4

4. Wee woo wee woo

5. Krissss

Hope you guys don’t mind being tagged! If you do let me know, I just think y’all are neat. Anyone else that wants to do this can if you want :3

@pup-bo1-r4mun3 @gayaristocrat @erenasia @mythicalmyles @kuzakat

[erenasia]

AHH MAN, thank you so much for the tag dude!

(Sorry it’s taken a bit, I’m on vacay)

Here goes, good luck figuring out what’s for what.

1. Coffee Talk pt 2

2. Citronella

3. Vince

As the others have done, hope y’all don’t mind being tagged, feel free to ignore 🤘

@horny-marbles @rainrot4me @noctiva

[horny-marbles-deactivated202510]

OOOHHHH thank you for the tag babes 🩷💗

1. Glory Box/Horror Head/Mascara (choose a song damn)

2. Pen pal dogshit sf fic-FIX THIS BITCH

3. Get dommed bitch

4. finish this or ur gay

5. Perfect Vessel/Bunny

@theamberparadise @ratmillkk @vegan-peppermint @nyr4s @d0xxingcl0wn

hope tagging u isn't weird yall 🙏🏻

[d0xxingcl0wn]

Omg WAITT I've been WAITING FOR THIS 1. CHOICE 2. Butterflies 3. SCAPEL 4. FigureItOutHoe @goobershnoober @carn4g3

(I think I need more friends on tumblr..)

Please don't freak out guys I totally don't stalk you </3

[carn4g3]

AHHH-- thanks for the tag hehe

Bad HABIT

Lesser of Two

The Curious Case

Again, hope tagging any of y'all isn't weird and feel free to ignore if it is. I would literally eat y'alls writing for breakfast lunch and dinner :)

@uvobreakmylegs, @theamberparadise, @secrets1n

[carn4g3]

please can you write jeff the killer x bimbo! reader headcanons??

Superstar | Jeff the Killer x Bimbo Reader

Summary: Jeff with a bimbo killer and a bimbo darling respectively.

TWs: Descriptions of unhealthy relationships, yandere behavior, stalking, murder & mentions of animal death, sex, abuse, alcohol, and drugging. Reader has no specific pronouns but is hyper-fem

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: I've seen a few other similar hcs floating around the creepypasta tags, so hopefully I'm not stepping on anyone's toes with this one.

Killer Reader

I'm taking two angles to this because I like both the concepts enough to want to write them.

Your main scene is the packed clubs and bars of a busy city night. Thriving under prying eyes and seedy stares, it's not hard to find at least one stupid soul who thinks their alcohol emboldened flirtations will score them a night. You play into it, of course. It doesn't take much to fool someone into believing your slurred claims of being absolutely wasted. Only the perfect target would believe it so easily, slimy hands wandering a bit too aggressively over your tight clothes or towards that drink that hasn't touched your tongue all night. The creepier the better, you think, especially once you have them begging for their lives.

Everything about you is far from the standard of practice for others in Slender's forest. You're sociable, choosing to take the long journeys to proper civilization, and your outfits are infuriatingly impractical for the environment. None of those aspects should detract from the fact that you belong amongst the group of killers. You're happy with what you do and see little reason to stop your manipulative and outright narcissistic behavior. Jeff and you were perfect for each other.

When Jeff first heard of you, he was interested in you for exactly all the reasons you would expect. Honestly, he didn't even think you were a real killer given the description he was given. Sure, you might wander around to clubs and pick out a guy or two, but was that really killing? He approached you out of curiosity, and, if you bend just like everyone else, he could wring more than just one benefit from you.

Of course, it wasn’t that easy for him. To you, he was an open book. Jeff believed your compliments easily, your disinterest upset him, and your insults left him reeling. He may be aware that your words are manipulative— the concept isn’t foreign to him— but Jeff certainly thinks he’s immune to their effects.

To give him a little credit, he’s perhaps a bit less easy than some of your victims. Jeff is too stubborn to let himself get wrapped around your finger entirely. Sure, he’ll fulfill some of your requests, if you ask. And yeah, he may also reject some just to do them anyways. At the end of the day, he still has free will. He’s not your dog… though, he may be the only one who actually believes that.

A lot of things from Jeff's general hcs still apply here. His interest in you isn’t constant and he’ll run off to the next thing as though you were never though. It may hit your ego a bit, but you can retaliate pretty easily if you wish to. Needless to say, neither of you are loyal to the other whatsoever and it would be a stretch to call what you have a relationship.

Jeff’s jealous tendencies are certainly tested with you. When he’s had a particularly rough day, he’ll broach the topic of your infidelity. To which, you’ll hit him right back with his own. It’s the furthest thing from a civil conversation, usually ending in bloodshed, and neither of you change either way. Not shockingly, the whole ordeal is far from a detractor for Jeff. If anything, your ability to kick his ass is a turn on, and, on occasion, the thought of you with other people is too. He tells himself he’ll get you next time, but he won’t.

To end on a little bit of fluff, Jeff will collect jewelry and accessories for you. He doesn’t understand your fashion sense beyond his appreciation for your body, so he rarely picks up clothes or anything like that unless they really call to him. But, picking up shiny things is basically his second nature. Big, gaudy diamond rings? Yours. Pearl necklace still splattered with blood? Perfect. Some god awful handbag that couldn’t hold more than a lipstick? You’ll love it. He’s a budget sugar daddy (you’ll never get a cent out of his man).

Civilian Reader

I know the last one wasn’t particularly “wholesome,” but this one is a far less consensual type of relationship.

It doesn't take much to interest Jeff, as we've established. You undeniably stand out compared to the average person. Jeff's attention was drawn to you easily when you two first met, or, rather, when he met you. Perhaps, your eyes met momentarily when you two crossed paths. Or maybe, you muttered an expletive in his direction as he shoulder-checked you without so much as a sorry. Either way, you hardly thought of it as more than a one off interaction. But, for him, your fate was sealed.

He becomes obsessed with finding you again and is highly efficient at doing so. Your home, workplace, family, and friends, he didn't even need to ask BEN for help finding your socials. You remind of every way society has rejected him and that makes the visceral anger stewing within him boil. At the same time, he's undeniably enraptured by you. He wants you, and, eventually, he knows it goes beyond sex. Seeing you die doesn't feel like enough, he wants to watch you go absolutely insane.

Jeff isn't all that good at subtlety, especially when his mind is so wrapped around all the ways he wants to see you suffer. You gather pretty early on that something is different. Items in your home shift or disappear, footsteps begin to follow your own, and you swear more people than ever have started wearing white hoodies. Jeff notices once you become more on-edge, and, if anything, he's somewhat impressed. He's far too focused on you to think about how obvious he's being, and, since he's the best, you must just be smarter than he initially thought. Obviously, he just needs to test your skills further.

While some of the others might be betting at playing the long game, Jeff likes things to have a bit more momentum than that. Dead animals appear at your doorstep until it's impossible for you to even imagine it's the fault of a stray cat. Texts from an anonymous number send pictures of you from afar or asleep, often accompanied by cryptic questions and statements. Worst is when you wake up with bloody cuts from a blade so sharp it hadn't even awoken you in the night. Had you fallen asleep particularly early that night too?

Needless to say, whatever protective measures you try to take go to complete waste. Jeff is well versed in evading law enforcement, your attempts to move hardly deter him, and your personal efforts are laughable. If you install cameras, he takes it as an invitation to give you a show. The more paranoid you become, the more he begins to toy with you. That taser you placed in your purse? Good luck fishing it out of your overflowing bathtub.

Inevitably, the effort to get a reaction from you becomes monotonous after a while, and he moves on to something else. But, nothing can compare to the feeling of your fear and paranoia. Jeff hardly thinks about the way it deteriorates you further to experience such brief moments of peace. To him, no time has passed at all since his last interaction with you, and your enhanced fear is only a reminder of what he was missing out on.

Despite it all, he's not interested in escalating this twisted relationship any further than its current state. Jeff doesn't want to kidnap or kill you just yet, and he only briefly considers ever revealing his identity to you. He'll never admit it himself, but the thought of meeting you eye to eye again makes him nervous. A dark, unpleasant coil forms in the pit of his stomach at the thought of your eyes fluttering open from a restless sleep only to see him. Would you be everything he's hoped you to be all this time? Would he be everything you hoped for? Until then, he'll keep himself a mystery.

Similar to if you were a killer, he'll give you random jewelry and accessories as he sees fit. However, he's far less interested in what matches your style and much more on what he imagines would look good on you. Because of that, he's much more likely to gift you clothing. Of course, it's all stolen from or taken right off of his victims. He's only more likely to give it to you if it's splattered in blood.

[carn4g3]

❧ Masterlist

All my stuff in one nice little package

#❧carn nav | All my links

#❧carn writes | My fun little writing

#❧carn answers | Asks & requests

#❧carn art! | My art !!

Last Update: July 26, 2025

Creepypasta

JEFF THE KILLER

General/Yandere Relationship HCs (GN Reader)

Reader Dresses in Decora Kei (M Reader)

The Night Shift Ending Expansion

Superstar (Bimbo Reader)

EYELESS JACK

General/Yandere Relationship HCs (GN Reader)

Reader Dress in Decora Kei (M Reader)

The Night Shift Ending Expansion

Accident Prone (Fem Proxy Reader) | Getting injured frequently isn’t always a bad thing. Sometimes, it lets you get closer to one mysterious medic.

Influenza (GN Reader) | Sick Comfort

TICCI TOBY

General/Yandere Relationship HCs (GN Reader)

Reader Dresses in Decora Kei (M Reader)

The Night Shift Ending Expansion

Journalistic Intent (GN Reader) | A school reporting gone sideways. Toby is simply tasked to collect an impromptu Slenderman candid. Instead, he finds himself more interested in the photographer, you. Surely, it wouldn’t hurt to take you with him instead, would it?

Rookie Mistake (M Reader) | One of these days, you’re going to give Tim a taste of his own damn medicine. But, for now, you have Toby.

HOMICIDAL LIU (& SULLY)

General/Yandere Relationship HCs (GN Reader)

The Night Shift Ending Expansion

KAGEKAO

General/Yandere Relationship HCs (GN Reader)

The Night Shift Ending Expansion

NINA THE KILLER

General/Yandere Relationship HCs (GN Reader)

X - VIRUS

General/Yandere Relationship HCs (GN Reader)

BEN DROWNED

General/Yandere Relationship HC (GN Reader)

You Distance Yourself From Them (GN Reader)

BLOODY PAINTER

General/Yandere Relationship HCs (GN Reader)

You Distance Yourself From Them (GN Reader)

SLENDERMAN

General/Yandere Relationship HCs (GN Reader)

Marble Hornets

Tim (Masky) Wright

General/Yandere Relationship HCs (GN Reader)

The Night Shift Ending Expansion

You Distance Yourself From Them (GN Reader)

Brian (Hoodie) Thomas

General/Yandere Relationship HCs (GN Reader)

The Night Shift Ending Expansion

You Distance Yourself From Them (GN Reader)

Other

Male Vampire x GN Immortal Reader

[carn4g3]

Some art I did for this request I got, check it out if you're interest ! (TW: Blood under the cut)

[carn4g3]

Can you maybe do headcanons with EJ x male!reader who dresses in Decora Kei? It's fine if you don't wanna

Decora Kei HCs

Characters: Eyeless Jack, Jeff the Killer & Ticci Toby x Male Reader

Summary: How do they feel if you dress in Decora Kei?

TWs: Vague toxic masculinity.

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: I know this request was just for EJ but I decided to add a few characters since it didn't end up being too long. Also, check out the art I did with this :)

Eyeless Jack

Gonna start this one off with some of my personal hcs about how I think Jack sees! This definitely isn’t a unique take, but I tend to follow that he can only see in heat signatures. I don't think it would have quite the same coloring or range as regular thermal vision, so he can probably only see major hotspots in a more monochrome color pallet. From there, he can fill in the extra gaps with his other added senses: smell, sound, or even pure intuition.

Decora outfits tend to have a lot of small parts and accessories to them, so I think he’s able to pick up on some of those: clinking pins or rustling bracelets. But, other than what you describe, he can’t actually see what you look like or what you’re wearing.

I think he really appreciates it if you take the time to describe your outfits to him. Most of the others know he's eyeless, it's literally in the title, but they don't really do much to accommodate that. He tends to be left out of important aspects of conversations, and Jack is the last person to call attention to himself if he doesn't understand something. So, your descriptions, no matter how simple, make him feel included in a way.

He’s absolutely no help if you want someone to bounce outfit ideas off of, though. Unless you just need someone who will affirm your every idea. In which case, he may still decide to be a shithead and throw a “no” in just to hear you get annoyed.

This scenario also made me think of a few ideas on what reader’s role might be under Slender. As per my general EJ hcs, I don’t think he would tend to involve himself with people who aren’t at least a little bit entangled with the creature. While I don’t think a full fledged Decora Killer is impossible, there’s certainly some logistical concerns which limit the scope of things you’re able to do for Slender. So, while you may still get blood on your hands, you probably have a more consistent job doing something similar to BEN.

Back to Jack, you probably won’t manage to influence his own style in any way— even if you try. He already feels he stands out enough and isn’t interested in getting any mocking comments from his colleagues. Though, he doesn’t actually know what the clothes he’s putting on look like. You’ll never trick him into wearing a different hoodie (he knows that thing like it’s part of his own skin), but a colorful undershirt or pair of socks is entirely possible.

He’s a little bit more willing to let you accessorize him, as long as they can stay relatively hidden. If you make bracelets, he'd be more than happy to wear at least a few simple ones, but he won't go as far as to wear a cuff or anything. Whenever he's feeling especially affectionate, he'll let you decorate his hair with clips and bows or paste some stickers on his face.

Jeff the Killer

The amount of color you wear makes him sick, or so he says. He's definitely exaggerating... probably.

Needless to say, Jeff judges your style harshly. The bright colors are disgusting and clash horribly, and the sheer amount of stuff on you at all times is ridiculous to him. He certainly doesn't care for fashion whatsoever, but he insists that he dresses far better than you. Though his criticism is mostly based on the aesthetics, he probably also looks down on you for just how impractical your outfit is as well. There's no way you could beat him in a fight dressed like that. At the same time, because he underestimates you, it's a lot easier to knock him on his ass.

Asking for outfit help is certainly bold, but, if he likes you enough, he won't completely ignore the question. No matter what, his answers are not intended to help you. Why don't you just cover yourself in unicorn shit while you're at it? He'll say in the same breath as, Just wear some dumbass neon shit like you always do. And, the second piece of advice is actually helpful. While a "thank you" would normally go straight to his head, he's almost offended to hear you say that in response to one of his suggestions. Jeff does not want that mess you call fashion to be associated with him.

I should clarify at this point that I do really like Decora Kei, I just think Jeff would be ass (as always)

Like Jack, it's highly unlikely you will ever convince him to change up his wardrobe. Jeff hasn't changed his style since he was a teenager, do you really think he's going to start now? His hatred of bright colors is not just for show, he would rather die than put on anything not already a part of his carefully curated wardrobe of monochromes and reds.

It would take a lot, but you could very possibly convince him to let you style his hair. Of all things, it's the only part of himself he actually cares about. It's exceptionally easy to part and style if not a little flat. As long as you aren't tugging at his scalp, threatening to pull out a strand or more (chunks, he insists), Jeff will let you do what you want. Once you show off the finished product, he always looks less than impressed and immediately starts undoing it. He has things to do, you know? He can't go out looking like that, even if he doesn't hate it all that much.

Ticci Toby

Grunge Toby with a little bit of 2000s emo in there?? Hell yeah. He definitely has a bit of knowledge on fashion subcultures from before he was a proxy. I doubt he had much exposure to Decora fashion then, but he's overall supportive of it. Toby understands how much time that kind of stuff takes and is kind of impressed by your commitment. His heart pounds a bit faster thinking about the dichotomy of your style from his.

He’s not too great at helping out with outfits, but it’s not from a lack of trying. If he could, he would sit there endlessly while you modeled your whole wardrobe for him. The idea of being involved in your thought process makes him giddy. But, if you were to actually ask for his opinion or advice, he tends to be a bit lacking in that department. His favorites include: I don’t know or whatever you think. He means well, but you’re better just asking someone else.

Toby has a bit more potential for style influence. While he certainly picks his clothing with an aesthetic in mind, he almost always weighs practicality over fashion. Toby is willing to try out one of your more colorful articles of clothing: perhaps a jacket or something of that nature. On occasion, he’ll wear it out, but he leaves it behind once it comes time for a mission. Whether it’s true or not, he feels like Masky would say something about it, and he can not take any more shit from that guy.

He loves it if you're interested in doing his hair, makeup, whatever! Toby is obsessed with you. The fact that you want to pamper him is enough to send him over the moon. He might struggle to sit still for the entire period that you need, though. As much as he likes to stare at your face or feel your touch for hours on end, he doesn’t like waiting around all that much. After a while, he can get a little restless, but he’ll praise the final product regardless of what stage it ends up at.

If you make bracelets or any sort of beaded accessories, he loves helping you out and making his own things if you teach him. You'll learn fairly early on that he gets easily frustrated when patterns don't go his way and when he struggles on anything complicated. But, he's more than happy to complete an endless amount of simple patterns. Toby will pester you about wearing them, especially the work he is most proud of. He wears the things you make him, shouldn't you do the same?

[carn4g3]

M. Vampire x Immortal Reader

TWs: Descriptions of blood, death, & alcohol (nothing too crazy)

He really didn't mean to get caught up like this. Too focused on his studies, he had neglected to think of how many times he told himself, “just another hour.” Shuffling like a mindless idiot between his study and cold storage, he didn’t even notice he had run low on food until he was groping uselessly at the empty cooler. Now, he was stumbling through this populated human city like a drunk, starved out of his mind.

It was demeaning, truly. Clutching the filthy brick exterior of some building like it were a lifeline, he could feel the mortar crumbling under the strength of his nails alone. Despite his careful adherence to the cover of the shadow, he still ran into individuals who felt the pathetic need to converse with him. Relegating himself to just the alleyways, as a result, he was overwhelmed by the stench of rotting food, garbage, and mildew. It didn’t help that the occasional hoots and hollers of drunken pedestrians bounced off the close-set buildings like some sort of personal torture chamber.

He despised the city, despised the people, but what other choice did he have?

Feeling the pulse of music beneath his palm, he knew he had found himself at a club of some sort. Likely spilling with tourists, he didn’t even need to go inside to sense the delectable thump of fast heartbeats and rushing blood. At this time of the night, he was sure most of them had been long since corrupted by the bitter charms of alcohol, but he was hardly in a state to be picky right now.

With a shaky breath, he raised his head and steeled himself to leave his makeshift safe-haven. He would only need to step into the light for a moment to draw the attention of some passerby. It would be easy to compel them into the dark before anyone noticed their disappearance. The thought of fresh blood on his tongue had his stomach twisting in anticipation, but he couldn’t be too hasty. He was far too starved to handle the intricacies of a dead body. Once he felt that telltale slowing of the pulse, he’d abandon his catch just as their eyelids fluttered shut. With just a little prompting, they’d be easily picked up by one of the lingering club bouncers and both would walk off assuming the issue had simply been one too many drinks.

It was far from a representation of his real genius, but it would be adequate for now. As soon as he got something in his system, he could come up with a strategy far less juvenile.

Then, of course, you came right for him.

"Hey," the voice echoed unpleasantly in his ears, "Are you alright?"

How you managed to see him despite his elaborate positioning was a mystery he would remain unaware of. All too quickly, you were approaching him. Your scent invaded his every thought, sweet but unmistakably diluted by alcohol. He couldn't miss the drunken lilt to your kind words with that in mind. Your speech intoxicating in its own way, it sent a shiver down his spine. Though, the pleasure of the moment was quickly ripped away by the brush of fingertips against his clothed shoulder.

The unexpected touch seized him like an electric jolt. Whirling around to look at you, he was met by the sight of an average partygoer. Your clothing was far from professional, perhaps immodest if he still concerned himself with the beauty standards of times past.

"Do you need me to call someone for you?" You mimicked the gesture of picking up a phone as though he was unable to understand your words.

Ordinarily, the assumption that he was incompetent would enrage him. Though, there was something about the hint of concern in your eyes-- surely, it was just his hunger. Shooting out from his side, he wrapped a hand easily around your wrist. Your pulse beating underneath his fingertips was sinfully tempting. He should have sunk his teeth in right then and there, not bothered himself with the useless pleasantry of talk. Yet, the words slipped from his tongue as though it were second nature.

"I'm fine." He spoke sharply, the response accented as he attempted to accommodate your language.

At first, he received no response. Your pulse quickened momentarily, perhaps the surprise of his touch or perhaps something else. Your eyes fell instantly to his hand, examining its undertones of death and the sharp, clawed nails that threatened to dig into your flesh. As he spoke, your gaze moved to his lips. Your intrigue caused him to question if he had foolishly abandoned his well-practiced mouth posture and speaking mannerisms-- revealing his fangs. He would never truly know as it was all washed over by your look of recognition.

"Ah." The sound seemed like an involuntary expression from you.

It was your continued speech that shocked him more, "You can go ahead. I'll be fine."

Bending your wrist in his grip, you raised it slightly to present your awaiting veins. Was he drooling? It didn't matter anymore. Pulling you closer to his form, he ignored your offered limb in favor of sinking his teeth straight into your far more desirable neck.

Like a five course meal, the blood that bubbled from your skin and seeped onto his tongue was divine. He couldn’t remember the last time he had tasted blood warmed so exquisitely like this. Not only that, the taste was unique to any that he had tasted from a human before. The cheap blood alcohol he usually found himself disgusted by like a fine wine pairing. Lost in the pure ecstasy of the moment, he didn’t even notice when you fell limp in his hold.

Only when your blood began to flow less readily into his awaiting mouth did he think to finally pull away from you. Surprised by how quickly your body began to fall backwards, he only barely managed to steady a hand on your waist and shoulder before you crashed into the ground below. Looking down at you, it would be generous to call you unconscious; you were downright deceased.

“Damnit!” He hissed

Angry bruising had formed on your neck, though it was already beginning to lack that fleshy tone it should have embodied. He didn’t need to touch the pulse point to tell that the gentle beating of life had stopped. Cursing himself for yet another mistake tonight, he felt himself finally regathering his previously abandoned wits.

He needed to do something with your body and fast. The easiest solution would be to bury you, perhaps where no one would check until it was far too late to properly discern what had caused your end. Maybe, he could even try to pass this off as another, messy vampire’s doing. Surely there was a location somewhere around here that could be deemed as a hotspot. Though, looking down at your placid features, the thought of leaving you in such a way left him feeling a little undignified— perhaps the hunger was still getting to him.

Gently laying your body against the ground, he grimaced at the sight of your hair sprawled across the filthy cobble. It only served to remind him of the way his own clothing dirtied as he kneeled beside you. Why in God’s name was he even doing this?

Examining your form, he managed to locate your mobile device. Not sure what he could do with the information it held, he investigated it anyway just in case. Struggling to activate the device, he chastised himself for not keeping up with the rapid advancements of the tech age. With his attention turned there, he hardly noticed as your body began to gain life once more. The soft thump of your heart was practically just a background noise, until of course you were sitting up like the living dead.

“Fuck.” He damn near shrieked at the sound of your voice.

Having risen quite quickly, you paused to grip your head. Not fully recovered from the effects of such severe blood loss, a pulsing pain reverberated in your skull from the harsh awakening. Eyes fluttering open, you were thankful to not be met by any harsh lighting, though it did pull you to question where you had ended up exactly.

The vampire man beside you had to do a double take to make sure he hadn’t just entirely lost his mind. Though, as your eyes met, you seemed entirely unperturbed.

“Oh yeah!” Recognition flashed over your features, “You feeling any better now?”

He gaped at the casual tone. You were acting as though he were the one having sustained grave injury.

“You were dead.” He noted incredulously.

“Yeah, it happens sometimes,” Your nonchalance would be infuriating if he wasn’t so relieved, “Just give me a minute and I’ll be good.”

He sputtered for a few moments, unsure of where to go from here but feeling the need to say something else, “You… what are you?”

The question lacked all his usual decorum, but you seemed endeared by it anyways, “Oh, I’m only immortal— nothing special.”

Nothing special? He could only scoff at such a ridiculous claim, “Humans… your type are not typically immortal.”

“Yeah, it’s a bit of a long story,” You replied, eyes falling to your phone in his hand, “Thanks for getting that, would be annoying if it broke or something.”

He wasn’t going to correct your assumption as you plucked the device from his hands. He had expected you to elaborate further on this supposed long story, but you instead turned your attention to the contraption.

“Looks like my friends are at a bar nearby too! I bet I can get a few more drinks in, huh?” He found it unnecessary for you to try to include him in such a decision, especially such a stupid one.

“No,” He protested quickly, “You should not be drinking. You need to return home.”

“Come on, it’s still early!” You turned the blindingly bright phone screen to him as though it would influence his opinion in any way.

“Besides, I’m fine!” To further try to prove your point, you quickly assumed a standing position.

Once again, he only barely managed to move into action before you stumbled back onto the pavement below, “Ok… maybe not.”

“I will walk you home.” He insisted.

Such words felt foreign on his lips. He never fraternized with anyone willingly, much less humans. However, he supposed there was a bit of an exception to your situation which posed itself as more intriguing than the average human. In all of his supernatural studies, he had almost rarely come across a case of an immortal human. His mind itched to know what had allowed you to reach such a state, and, perhaps, he also felt a gut-wrenching guilt at having indulged in your blood like some sort of glutton.

“Well, aren’t you a gentleman!” You placed your hands against his upper arm, as though you two were a romantic couple, and he couldn’t find himself minding the touch.

“Lead the way!” You declared.

“I’m not aware of where your home is.” He reminded you awkwardly.

“Oh right. Sorry, muscle memory,” He didn’t want to question what you meant by such an explanation, “I’ll lead the way!”

Surging forward, you shakily led the two of you out of the alleyway and down the winding, night streets.

(SPACER)

A/N: Very different from my usual content, but if this does well I’m considering expanding to some more monster fucker writing

[carn4g3]

Can i request Eyeless Jack with his human s/o who's sick? I currently have the flu and I'm ✨️ suffering ✨️ thank you!

Influenza | Eyeless Jack x GN! Reader

Summary: Good ol’ sick comfort :)

TWs: Nothing for once !!

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: I hope your flu is gone now that is has been well over a month since you left this request! Sorry for the time it took, but hopefully this will come in handy the next time you feel under the weather :)

Jack couldn’t help but wince at the ugly cough that forced itself out of your throat. The sound almost foreign to his ears, he didn’t even need to hear you speak to know you had run your vocal cords raw. Coughs steadily devolving into raggedy, mucus punctuated breaths, you snatched the water from his hands with an urgency he hadn’t entirely expected. Gulping down the cool liquid, the look of discomfort on your face suggested you probably also had a sore throat. 

If there was one thing Jack could confidently say he didn’t miss about humanity, it would be the throws of illness. Admittedly, no one in these woods was the picture-book definition of “healthy” in any sense of the word. But, you seemed in pretty good spirits when he saw you less than 24 hours ago. Now, bundled under several layers of quilts and your head propped against the inclined pillows, you were like a proper hospital patient. 

"Here," He held his hand out towards you, an array of fever reducers and decongestants in his palm, "These should help."

Normally, Jack would leave you for as long of a period as he had tonight. As a human, you were generally assigned vastly different tasks from the demon. Though, whether night or day, he usually found himself undisturbed by the time you decided to get some (usually much needed) rest. Undeniably, he had grown fond of the routine and sheer domesticity of it all. His body no longer required sleep to function nor was he even able to enter that REM state that you could. Regardless, Jack found himself slipping into a comfortable, in-between space instead: not quite awake or asleep. Trusting his ever vigilant senses to alert him to any danger, he instead found himself relaxing to the sound of your gentle breaths and steady heartbeat. 

In the hectic world of the supernatural, however, you can't always expect that level of consistency. With you busy throughout the day on some sort of mission, Jack knew his impending nighttime food run meant he wouldn't see you until the early hours of the following day. Lingering in the cabin a little longer than necessary, he held onto the hope that you two might see each other again for just a moment before parting once more. Maybe, he should have waited just a bit longer for you.

"Thanks." You muttered hoarsely.

Fingertips brushing against his palm, you plucked the medicine from his hold. Downing the pills in a few gulps of water, he quickly took the water from your hold before you even thought about shifting positions to do it yourself. 

Upon entering your shared cabin an hour ago now, he had attempted to creep quietly over the creaky floorboards. Intent on keeping his movements gentle so as to not wake you, it quickly became a futile exercise as your muffled coughs escaped the confines of your bedroom. He wasn’t surprised to hear that you hadn’t slept a wink since returning from your mission. 

"Need anything else?" He asked.

"No," You rasped, "This fuckin' sucks."

Jack chuckled, the sound low and rumbling, at your discontent, "The medicine should help. You should try to get some sleep too."

Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he looked over your bundled up form as though to confirm for himself that you had everything you needed. Even through your wheezing breaths and sniffles, his ears still managed to pick up on the patter of raindrops against the roof and windows outside. It had been a constant downpour since he had left hours ago, and he had a feeling that the poor weather was what contributed to your exacerbated state. 

Reaching a hand out to your forward, he felt that you were warm, more so than usual against his unheated skin. Normally, he wouldn’t advocate for such imprecise tests, but you seemed to gain much more enjoyment from the press of his cool skin than a piece of plastic. Leaning into his touch, you sighed in relief. 

"I'll try," You replied, clearly reluctant of your ability to get some proper sleep, " You gonna' leave me here?"

Jack sighed, catching that you didn't actually want him to go. Ignoring that he made an absolute mess of the freezer in his haphazard attempt to store his food quickly, there were additional tasks that he needed to complete. Having gathered a number of medications during his time out, he could think of a few people who would soon begin pestering him about their whereabouts. Though, it wasn’t like they would die without them.

"I'll stay for a little." He answered.

Jack only needed to hear your following words to know a smile was lighting your features, "Yay."

Sitting up, he adjusted the blankets so that he could join you underneath them. Thankful that he had already changed out of his wet clothes, he was able to relish in the warmth underneath the covers.

"You're gonna keep that on?" Instantly, he knew you were talking about his mask.

He often forgot about the piece of plastic resting over his features, having grown so used to its constant presence. Though, it seemed he had, inadvertently, made you more used to its absence. Once he started removing the mask around you, it seemed to open the floodgates for you to constantly beg him to take it off. Though he wasn't as disgusted by his appearance (or rather, the little that he could see of it) as he once was, he didn't think the mask was that awful. Admittedly, he almost never denied your request, and he found himself finding a certain enjoyment in feeling your, comparatively, softer hands against his face.

Reaching for the bottom half of the plastic, he made sure to not get any trails of goopy eye-tar onto the blankets. Even though it was usually inevitable, he tried his best to prevent any unnecessary mess from the thick, teary liquid. Reaching his arm mindlessly behind him, Jack waited until he heard the scrape of the material against the wooden nightstand. While it was just as easy to throw it mindlessly onto the floor, he felt at least a bit of care for the item that had served him so well over the years.

"Happy?" He muttered.

Seemingly pleased with yourself, you simply let out a hum of agreement. Pushing a palm against his chest and pulling at his arm, you practically molded him into your desired pillow. Making him lay flat against the bed, you rested your head against his chest and let his arm wrap naturally around your shoulders. An amused smile crossed his features at your indirect bossiness. Though, he’d never tell you that the gesture sent butterflies through his stomach like he was some hopelessly pining idiot again.

“You can’t say anything,” you piped up, clearly aware of his expression, “I’m sick.”

“You’re the only one talking.” His chest rumbled as he let out a barely contained chuckle.

With a scoff, you flicked your finger against his chest. It was hardly a painful retaliation, but one that expressed your “irritation” nevertheless. As Jack’s soft laughs dissipated, he let you settle into a comfortable silence.

Your breaths weren’t nearly as even as he was accustomed to. Occasionally pricked by a wheeze, a light cough, or a sniffle, he gently trailed the tips of his sharp nails across your back in comforting, circular motions. Letting himself zone out for a bit, he wasn’t surprised when the heave of your chest lightened and you finally fell asleep.

Smiling to himself, he glanced down once more. Your face was firmly rested against his chest, the cool spot forming there suggesting you were drooling. Perhaps he would make fun of you for it later, but, for now, he was content. 

[carn4g3]

Hi there,

I’m holding on to hope, one day at a time—and today, I’m asking for your support. My family is living through a reality no one should have to face, and I’m doing my best to keep our voices heard.

📌 Please take a second to check out my pinned post.

🔄 Sharing it can help it reach someone who might be able to help.

🤍 If you’re able to give even a little, your generosity could ease a heavy burden.

Your support, your time, your care—it all matters more than you know.

With love and deep appreciation,

@helpjehadddd

Check this out if you’re able!

[carn4g3]

Hello,

I hope you’re all doing well. 🌿

I need your help to share my family's story and raise awareness about our struggle. Every voice counts, and your support means the world. 🙏

💬 Please reblog my pinned post or, if you're able, consider donating just $5—it could be life-changing for those facing unimaginable hardship.

Your kindness and solidarity make a real difference. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! 🤍✨

@aboodfmly

Check out this account and support if you’re able!

[carn4g3]

Hello, wonderful souls! 🤍🌍

I hope you're doing well. 🌿

Could you help me amplify my family's story and bring awareness to our struggle? 🙏🏻

💬 Please reblog my pinned post or consider donating just $5—your support could truly make a difference in saving lives amidst war and hardship.

Your kindness and voice matter more than you know. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! 🤍🌿

🕊️ @mosabsdr | Every share counts. 💫

I got this message and few similar ones about a month ago now while I wasn’t checking on this account too much. Please help out this family if you’re able or at least reblog this so more people are made aware!

[carn4g3]

Hi! Could u make a ticcy toby x male reader hurt/comfort-ish oneshot where the reader feels ignored in a way, like ppl dont rly care to listen to them or let them express themself? And gets comforted with words of affirmation/physical affection If that makes sense lol its ok if not tho! Have a nice day :)

Rookie Mistake | Ticci Toby x Male Reader

Summary - One of these days, you're going to give Tim a taste of his own damn medicine. But, for now, you have Toby.

TWs: Descriptions of blood, dead bodies & murder, reader has some anger issues, indirect mentions of abuse

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Tumblr kept eating this ask without my permission, I swear it disappeared at least 3 or 4 times before I finally caught it and saved it to my drafts. I rewrote sections of this a few times so lmk if something isn't as clear as I thought it was lol

"I'm supposed to do this and clean up on a solo mission?" You asked the masked man incredulously.

Tim looked less than interested in the question, a loud sigh leaving him as though you were just another chore, "You can handle that, can't you?"

His response felt more like a trap than an actual expression of concern. If you said you could, he would dismiss the rest of your complaint. On the other hand, the opposite answer would only spur him to poke further at your abilities-- like you hadn't heard from him and everyone else a million times over.

"You always have Brian with you for clean up," You chose to answer with instead, "Why don't I get someone?"

"Everyone has more important things to do than help you out, rookie." Tim scoffed.

You scowled at the nickname. It didn't take long for you to not only receive the moniker but also grow incredibly tired of it. Damn near everyone called you it now, and you were beginning to gather that the tone wasn’t always just playful teasing. People like Tim said it out of a place of superiority— thinking they were better simply because they had been around for longer.

"Really? And what important things are you doing." You scoffed in disbelief.

"Watch yourself." Tim shot back sternly.

This was hardly the first time you had fought with the man. At first, you had been pretty obedient towards all of those who took on "teaching" you. You reveled in their advice, taking their harshness as an opportunity to grow, and even enduring their verbal assault as something you would just grow used to. After months of it, you felt fortunate that your senses finally returned to you. Of course, it wasn't without the help of Toby. He fought with Tim just as much, probably even more, and he helped you realize how much of an asshole Tim really was.

"Grow a pair and do your dirty work yourself." You replied, letting the words spew out before you even really thought them over.

You could tell he was mad, fists clenched at his sides as though he was barely restraining himself from throwing a punch. The subtle shift of his mask suggested he was grinding his jaw, something he did as to not lash out fully. A normal person would be relieved, but you could only feel more irritated when he chose to be the "bigger" person. He had to have known it upset you. That was the only explanation for why he would do it.

"It's your job," Tim said tersely, "Don't do it and you'll answer to the Operator."

His tone suggested the conversation was done there. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he took a few steps back to return to whatever depths of the woods he had crawled from.

"Fuckin' asshole." You knew he hadn't missed the muttered words when his movements paused, shoulders tensing as though he were daring you to say it again.

"I said you're a fuckin asshole!" You repeated louder.

Deciding that you would be the one with the last word, you made your own exit. Glancing over your shoulder, you had hoped to see Tim still standing there-- reeling from your verbal assault. Instead, he was retreating silently just as you were.

You were exhausted-- no, beyond that. All but dragging your body through the woods, muscle memory was pretty much the only thing that got you back to the rundown cabin now sitting before you. The exterior was almost entirely dark given that the porch light had long since succumbed to the dust, cobwebs, and moss that patterned every nook and cranny of the building. Despite that, a sliver of illumination peaked its way out from between the drawn curtains just left of the doorway: the kitchen light, if you remembered correctly. Forcing your aching muscles to pull you up the creaky front steps, you reached for the doorknob. As expected it twisted with ease; the man inside never really did remember to lock it.  

Eyes falling lazily over the interior, you found that your suspicions about the light source were proved right. To your left, the dim yellow glow of the kitchen light cast a net of illumination that extended only a few feet from the room’s entryway. Shutting and locking the door behind you, you easily found the object of your interest rustling around the pantry. Loose tufts of hair and edges of dirtied, blood spattered clothes peeking out from behind the door, Toby seemed to be surveying it for options. 

"I'm home." You greeted abysmally.

"Hi." Toby replied, clearly engrossed in his task.

The kitchen space was minimal, pretty much a glorified hallway, but you managed to brush past him anyways. Settling on his right side, you let your head fall to his shoulder as you observed the sparse pantry. It had been a while since the last supply run, and it wasn't like either of you had the luxury of free time to go shopping.

"There's Doritos." You noted the party sized bag that had been folded shut.

"Yeah," Toby's body lurched, but it didn't deter you from your position for very long, "You look like sh... shit."

You sent a half assed glare his way, "So do you, dick."

You didn't even need to fully take in the other man's appearance to gather that much. Just like you, he had come right from a mission. Dried mud clung stubbornly to the notches of his boots, the particles of which were undoubtedly spread all over the floors by now. From your close proximity, he reeked of sweat, BO, and blood-- all of which you had long grown accustomed to.

Although, you weren’t in any position to pass judgement. Perhaps more blood stained than your counterpart, you could feel the mostly dried sticky substance clinging to the front of your clothing. Splattered and messy, it stained your hands, caked under your nails, and hid in the creases of your skin. You were sure some of it still gently dotted your face as well-- all mixed with sweat and dirt.

"How'd it g-go?" He chose to ignore your insult in favor of asking the question.

"Fine," You answered bluntly, "You?"

Thinking over the previous events, it wasn’t entirely a lie. Killing the victim had been easy. A hardly athletic, 30-something year old man glued to his computer, it was easy to attack him from behind and send him helplessly to the floor with a single hit. You wouldn't admit it, but it was partially intentional that the first hit didn't even knock him out properly. Seeing him crawl away in futile desperation only spurred you to strike him a second time. Then a third. If you had to guess, he probably expired somewhere between the fourth and the sixth strike.

It was cathartic in a way, picturing the pathetic corpse before you as the remains of the masked bastard who had ordered you there in the first place. You were certainly less than gentle with the body as you went about hiding it, taking some creative liberties in the disposal method. Though, it came to bite you in the ass when you began to embark on the several mile journey back into the woods, shoulders and legs aching from the effort before you even started.

"Fine." Toby echoed, "Got what I-- shit!-- nee-needed."

"Nice." You sighed, too tired to ask anymore questions as you turned your attention to the bag of chips.

Plucking them off the shelf, you turned swiftly to the darkened living room on your left. Though it would have been easy to flick on the light switch just adjacent to the pantry, you opted to throw your body onto the awaiting sofa instead. Knowing the couch had been through far worse, you hardly perturbed by the thought of blood and dirt sticking to the already stained fabric. Toby, as expected, was just as uninterested in maintaining the couch’s cleanliness or in illuminating the room as he trailed in just behind you. Taking a seat in the relatively small gap between your body and the left arm rest, he looked down at you expectantly as you ruffled through the bag of chips.

"You g-gonna share?" Rolling your eyes at the question, you grabbed a handful before shoving the rest of the bag into the other man’s lap.

"What'd you ha-- have to do anyway?" Toby asked, the bag crinkling loudly as took some chips for himself.

"Kill and clean up." You answered.

Toby paused at that, "By yourself?"

"Blame that fucker with the mask." You didn't even need to clarify which one, both of you knowing exactly whom you were referring to.

"C-course," He scoffed, "that asshole."

"That's what I told him, said he shouldn't make his fuckin' dirty work my problem." Your teeth grit together at the memory.

"Should've told me, we could... could've switched." He replied.

"No," You responded a bit harsher than you intended, "Wouldn't fuckin change that he thinks I'm some weak little bitch who can't do anything for myself. They all think I'm some fuckin’ dumbass! And for what? Because Slender chose them first? It's bullshit! None of it makes them better..."

You let the rant spill from your lips as you felt that simmering rage from earlier finally boil over. 

Without realizing it, your hand clenched around the remaining chips in your hand, causing them to crumble into an array of pieces across your palm. Feeling the pieces poke at your skin and the dust becoming intermixed with the already sticky concoction of sweat and blood, you felt yourself become even more disgruntled. 

"Fuck!" You cursed, throwing the remains aimlessly into the dark room, "I wanna wring that fucker's neck."

Wiping your hand aggressively against your clothes, you found no reprieve from the uncomfortable sensation even as you felt the skin turning raw from the repeated movements.

"It would do the w-world a fuckin' fa... favor." Toby's voice joined in once more.

Turning your gaze in his direction, you waited silently for Toby to say more. Instead, you were only met with the sight of a triangular chip dangling over your face. A bit confused at first, you reached out hesitantly to take it. Just as fingers started to brush it, he abruptly pulled it away as though it were simply some sort of taunt. Finally realizing what he wanted, you parted your lips, waiting as Toby finally dropped the chip into your awaiting mouth.

"Thanks." You replied, already forgetting about whatever it was that had just upset you.

He grunted in acknowledgement, returning to the previous topic instead, "I wouldn't rec-recommend trying it. He'll si-sick his real bitch on you."

You couldn't help the small snort that left you. He was talking about Brian, of course. You hadn't thought the hooded man was all too bad initially. Brian was pretty nice to you, from what you remembered. Though, it did help that he very rarely spoke– unlike his counterpart. You had no clue what he saw in Tim to hang around him so frequently, but it only took a small push from Toby for you to hate Brian as well. 

"Fuckin' coward." You commented. 

Eating the rest of the chip you were handed, the two of you sat in relative silence for a moment. Turning your gaze towards Toby once more, you watched as he absentmindedly ate. With his faceguard pulled down around his neck, you had a full view of the opening in his cheek: the strands of saliva that formed across the opening, his teeth gnashing at the chip, and drool involuntarily pooling at the corner. He usually made it a habit to not eat around others, so you couldn’t help but be mesmerized every time you got a rare look at it. You didn’t even realize he noticed your staring until another chip was thrust unceremoniously over your vision. 

“Something on my face?” Toby asked.

“Nah.” You averted your gaze quickly, feeling your face heat after having been caught.

“Yeah right, creep.” He muttered, the words mostly playful.

You weren’t allowed a response as he shoved the awaiting chip into your mouth the second you opened it. Letting him take the win on this one, you fell back into the cozy moment. Despite the loud crinkling of the bag and the usual creaks and groans of the old building, you could feel that itch of tension slowly melting away as it always did when you were around Toby. You liked spending time with him for that reason.

Admittedly, you hadn’t thought he was much different from the likes of Tim or Brian at first. He talked more than the latter but was only a little less harsh than the former. But, unlike the other two, you steadily warmed up to him. You were both the new guys, relatively younger than any of the proxies or Slender’s other allies. It felt easier to express your frustrations to him, to trust the advice he gave you, and to see the underlying compliments in what was usually admonishment from anyone else. It was an easy decision once you were finally granted Slenderman’s full trust as a proxy to move into this rundown cabin you had spent many nights before. Consumed by your thoughts, you didn’t notice the way Toby was attempting to get your attention until he outright flicked the center of your face

"Ow,” You hissed, “What was that for?”

"You're far." He replied.

"I'm right next to you." You scoffed.

"You know wh-- what I f... fuckin' mean." Despite the way he matched your tone, he turned his gaze away as though he were embarrassed.

It was endearing how he got flustered whenever asking you for affection. Though, you suppose you forced him to the point of reaction just for your own interest sometimes. Shifting your body against the couch, you slid towards Toby until your head rested comfortably against his thigh.

"Happy?" You teased him.

"Little sh-shit." He hissed, though still gave you another chip as though it were some reward.

As you chewed on it in stride, Toby spoke once more, "None... none of them know what they're ta- talking about. They're all-- shit!-- stuck with their heads up... up their ass."

You huffed in amusement, though didn't find yourself too moved by the words, "And they're in charge."

"Not f-forever," Toby scoffed, "Slender will grow ti-tired of them soon. Then they-- fuck-- they'll be beg-begging us for their lives."

Now that thought was appeasing to you, "Yeah, and we'll make those assholes pay."

Toby's hand moved to your hair, ruffling it in agreement with those words, "Damn right."

Described this to my roommate as: Hurt/comfort but the reader has been trained like a dog.

[carn4g3]

Now this brings up a whole 'nother thought about the whole possessive thing + endings in the story, but how do you think the guys would react to each other after dating MC? To make this easier, it could just be the most notable relationships of the li, like their enemy and/or closest friend of the person.

example; Masky 'dating' MC, hoodie and Toby's reaction to it. Or MC and EJ dating, and kagekao's reaction or thoughts to it, etc.

Side note: I know hoodie wasn't too interested in MC during masky's ending, in fact he seemed almost indifferent and kinda annoyed at times lol, but given how he was in the story before then + the possessive headcannons about him, how would he ACTUALLY be (what i mean is remember the whole 'without worrying about tying up loose ends' thing), and along with all the others?

🫶 (I write to much damn-)

This isn't going to include every creep and will be very Night Shift specific because some of the decisions I made with character's reactions relied heavily on how the story progressed/MC's behavior. As always, feel free to read the Night Shift if you haven't! This has a shit ton of spoilers soo if you're interested, maybe hold off on reading below the cut.

(TWs: Just a small heads up, this includes pretty explicit descriptions of unhealthy relationships and overall toxic behavior, and some mention of blood and murder)

If MC ends with Masky...

Brian Thomas

Some of his indifference towards MC in Tim's ending was completely intentional. Especially in the Night Shift, I characterize him as being alright with the Operator's control simply because it's been so aggressively instilled in him. He knows Tim doesn't see it that way, but isn't too concerned about him actually doing anything to act on his hatred. However, when Tim gets with MC in the end, he's aware that they're both interested in destroying the Operator.

I definitely didn't highlight this next part too well in the actual story, but it was what I had in mind while writing it. Brian believes that they might actually be able to defeat the Operator and also doesn't see himself entirely opposing it's defeat. He has a paranoia that the Operator is able to read all of his thoughts (which is not true for how I write Slender), so he fears that him or the few people he cares about will get hurt if he lets those thoughts exist. So, he distances himself and acts indifferent for that reason.

I know his anxiety around Slender was mentioned in both Brian and Tim's ending briefly. And the idea that Brian kind of supports the MC was there towards the end of his own ending with them. Obviously, that explanation was kind of long-winded, and I felt I couldn't easily incorporate it without some POV switches.

All of that aside, Brian definitely isn't entirely disinterested in MC even if they end up with Tim. I don't think he would go as far as to fight Tim over it. He's sane enough to realize that MC wasn't falsely manipulated to choose Tim or anything and honestly thinks the other man is more deserving of your affection if you chose him.

That being said, he does not quit the stalking habit. Even if he has to see you and Tim together, he'll opt for it over never seeing you again. Tim would eventually become aware of this, and he would start a fight with Brian over the matter, but I still don't think it would actually solve the issue.

Ticci Toby

I thought Brian's explanation was the longest originally, but Toby's ended up longer because I shared a few too many tidbits lol

I hc this consistently throughout pretty much every piece I write (not just the Night Shift) but Tim and Toby do not get along at all. Toby can't handle someone as aggressively authoritative as Tim, and Tim can't handle someone as blatantly combative as Toby.

Toby's last interaction with MC before the endings was him basically being told to stay away unless he can get his shit together. Because I wrote him as so infatuated, I don't think he would disobey that. His interactions would stay minimal and pretty surface level as to not upset MC but seeing then with Tim would deeply upset him.

At first, he would pin the blame on himself. Thinking that his erratic behavior was the sole thing that dragged them-- no, forced them-- to choose Tim over him. Though, his thinking quickly shifts to believing that Tim did somehow manipulate MC into being with him and that they need to be saved one way or another.

Again, I don't think he would outright express these ideas to MC until he reaches a boiling point (like the first time), but it would only further strain his already flimsy relationship with Tim.

I love to yap about my writing, so I'll make one more note that's probably unnecessary. I mentioned in a note somewhere that MC is around late 20s to early 30s, but I didn't really talk about any of the character's ages. Obviously, none of the characters in the Night Shift are minors, so I imagined Toby as one of the youngest love interests at about 21 years old. In any ending other than Toby's own, MC would probably perceive Toby as a sort of younger brother. I was going to include a section on this in Tim's ending, but I ended up scrapping it because it seemed out of place.

The only reason MC chooses Toby in his own ending is simply because they end up isolated from any of the others and sort of just craving any attention they can get. I definitely hinted at this in Toby's ending but thought I might as well make it clear here.

If MC ends with Hoodie...

Tim Wright

Just going to preface this with the fact that I'm not entirely sure I stand with this characterization. My feelings about how I should write Tim fluctuates endlessly, but I'm deciding to stick to this characterization since this was the initial idea I had when thinking about this ask.

Tim is definitely a character who does not think he deserves nice things. He can be vindictive and demanding on the outside, but it's largely to overcompensate with the fact that he feels like a weak, broken man internally. Romantic pursuits are the closest he gets to revealing that interior, and, with MC having some supernatural compulsion shit going on, their relationship is probably the closest he's gotten to feeling like a whole person again.

That being said, if MC doesn't choose him, he's going to crawl right back to that negative self-talk. He probably wouldn't take the rejection out on MC, but he does grow increasingly distant.

MC ending up with Brian adds another messy layer on top of all of this. Tim and Brian are inseparable (trauma bonding and all that), so, similarly, I don't think Tim would take any anger out on Brian either-- not more than usual. Just like with MC, Tim would distance himself for a bit, isolating himself for far longer than it should be healthy. And then, he'll turn right back up at Brian's side as though nothing happened. He probably won't ever return to having any sort of companionship with MC, but he's not exactly unfriendly either.

Tim would get snappy if Brian tries to bring it up to any extent, and it's clear that his pent up rage takes form in his growing tensions with everyone else. But to take it out on you two? He couldn't imagine.

If MC ends with Eyeless Jack...

Kagekao

Probably the most obvious rivalry I included, even though its very one sided. Honestly, I originally thought it would just be kinda funny to have the only two demons in the story hate each other, but I do have at least a bit of a reason for it.

Kage was definitely interested in Jack when he first heard of the other demon. Especially in the mortal realm, it's rare for demons to cross paths, and, as much as Kage boasts, he missed having a familiarity with some one. Though, upon meeting EJ, he was highly underwhelmed. Jack still clung in futility to his former humanity. Not to mention, he had been gifted such a large, killer build and hardly chose to utilize it for the thrill of carnage (ha) and suffering?! Kage doesn't understand Jack, perhaps he's a bit jealous, so he acts in petty opposition to the other whenever he can

With that out of the way, I can finally get to him and MC. As someone with a bit more supernatural experience than the rest, he recognizes that his attraction to MC is a result of something other than their personality. Though he tried to ignore it, out of spite, it was like trying not to touch a big, red, glowing button.

So, to see you choose Jack over him? He can only hate you too... well, he can try.

Other than that, the rest of Kage's reaction to MC with Jack would be standard if they ended with any of the other creeps. If MC isn't directly relying on him, he steadily looses interest. He might not be able to entirely shake himself of their unintentional yet endearing psychic hold, but Kage can quite easily occupy himself with just about anything else.

He'll pop up once in a while to hold a brief, scathing conversation, but he makes himself scarce at all other times.

Ticci Toby

Another little relationship dynamic that I didn't really put too much focus on, but, unlike Tim, Toby actually does look up to Jack in a way. Obviously, he ends up under Jack's care a lot because he can't tell when he's pushed his body too far or injured himself beyond simple repair. As a result, he's had a lot of time to talk to the demonic medic and the two have kind of bonded, despite their vastly different personalities and life experience

Another unimportant note, Brian is the one who makes Toby go to Jack (either by kind suggestion or force). Compared to Tim, Brian is a little nicer to Toby in that regard. But, I don't think Toby sees Brian as anything more than an extension of Tim, so they don't exactly get along either.

Anyways, I made this one clear, but Toby really struggles to see any flaws that MC has. If they end up with Tim or pretty much anyone else, he'll eventually assume that MC was manipulated into the relationship. But, Jack's not like that, right?

I can definitely see Toby turning against Jack in his darker moments, but, overall, I think he just acts with willful ignorance. Sure, MC lives at Jack's cabin, but that's because his place has the most space. And, the others like to pass around jokes about them sleeping together, but those are just jokes and rumors.

If anything, he's happy to see his two favorite people getting along and in the same place :)

(I do not mean this positively)

If MC ends with Jeff the Killer...

Homicidal Liu

I put MC's ending with Jeff a bit earlier in their romantic relationship because a) that's how long it would probably take for Jeff and b) their relationship would probably be completely ambiguous. Jeff wouldn't define it and I don't think MC would really care to either.

Despite that, Liu is well aware of the difference in his brother's behavior towards MC. He knows there's something more going on between them, and they all live under the same roof... it's inevitable.

Liu's "love" for Jeff throughout the Night Shift was meant to come off as an unhealthy and trauma-based attachment. He realizes that Jeff is an awful person, but that passive acknowledgement is about as far as his brain is able to go before Sully fronts. As a result, his "anger" towards Jeff tends to be pretty short lived. When they fight, Liu forgives and forgets while Jeff just... forgets

Liu's interest in MC was made pretty clear in the main story, so I think he feels a bit slighted by MC choosing his brother instead. At the end of the day, he can't bring himself to be mad at either them or Jeff for it, so he just falls back to that passive acknowledgement.

Sully would probably begin fronting a bit more frequently as Liu struggles to grapple with some of these feelings. And, Sully is not the forgive and forget type; he despises Jeff and everyone who associates themselves with him. Admittedly, he thought you were cool at first, but, seeing you with the other man, his opinion of you has become completely soured.

If MC ends with Homicidal Liu

Jeff the Killer

To all who read Liu's ending, there's more of Jeff in it than Liu himself (oops) and this one was by far the most aligned with how I think Jeff would react.

Jeff does not think about his feelings. He'd rather insist they're not there, bottle them up, and let loose via brutal homicide. Though, he recognizes there's this prickling... feeling when he sees MC and Liu together. Jealousy? Anger? He'll never know because he'll never think about it.

The biggest visible difference is that his killing streaks will become a bit more frequent. It becomes expected to see Jeff walk through the front door absolutely drenched in blood-- some of it his own. He doesn't really notice that he's gotten more careless, coming back injured more often than not. Liu gets mad, but he can forget about that easily when MC is there to wrap his wounds, hands brushing his skin and staining with his blood.

Other than getting injured, he would still linger around MC, trying to get them in on whatever it is he's doing that day. To him, it's just because they're one of the few tolerable people around-- not because he enjoys their company.

As established in Liu's portion above, I think he would notice that Jeff's behavior towards MC is different than others, motivations not nearly as secretive as Jeff would believe. He might bring it up to Jeff (to which he would get no answers) though he's much more likely to just keep silent about it all.

I wish I had more to say about Jeff and Liu, but I feel I expressed their inter-workings a bit better than the others (maybe because I wrote their endings when I still fully remembered the plot of my own story and not after months of not thinking about it.... or something).

Hopefully this answered the question, but feel free to ask more if there's something unclear or you wanted more on specific characters. As I've said, I love yapping about my writing.

[carn4g3]

Hey creeps, it's been a little bit! I had a lot come up recently personally and with school (all of my professors are foaming at the mouth for essays), so I haven't had too much time to work on stuff here.

Anyways, I'm temporarily closing requests until I can catch up on most things since I still have stuff sitting from like 5 months ago. If you sent a request before May 10th, chances are I have either seen it or am working on it, so don't worry about that. Hopefully I'll have some more stuff up for you all shortly :)

~ Carn

[carn4g3]

hello! do you have any crumbs for eyeless jack x fem!proxy reader that got hurt on a mission? thank u!!

Accident Prone | Eyeless Jack x Fem Proxy Reader

Summary: Getting injured frequently isn't always a bad thing. Sometimes, it lets you get closer to one mysterious medic.

TWs: Mentions of violence, injuries & medical equipment (IVs)

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: I'm still trying to figure how I want to write Jack dialogue wise (in the Night Shift I tended to make him more reserved in the sort of shy way, but I'm not sure I like that characterization fully) so pls lmk what y'all think :)

General

I tend to follow the idea that Jack was sacrificed by a cult-like group to their demonic deity as a human vessel--leading to his appearance today. His involvement with the group was passive, at first. As a first year med student in a relatively small program, he didn't know many people and found it easy to befriend his surprisingly talkative lab partner. Much of the cult activity probably flew under Jack's radar until a cold, harsh blade was quite literally ripping through him.

That being said, Jack at least managed a bachelor's degree, probably on some sort of pre-med track, before his normal life came to an end. He holds a bit more technical knowledge than the average person, but he's by no means an expert.

Slender hardly sought out Jack for his medical prowess. It's practically a given that a pawn of the creature knows how to stop themself from dying. Proxies in particular are expected to know anything from basic first aid to treating bullet wounds. Admittedly, trying to stop yourself from bleeding out while in the depths of the woods with only the clothes on your back doesn't lead to many sanitary situations. Amongst other things, Jack does wonders in preventing infection, and Slender would be the last to object to that.

As a proxy, you don't get too many opportunities to interact with anyone who isn't also a proxy. The breaks you get between missions are often only a few days long at most, and there's no telling what you'll have to get done during that time as well.

Similarly, Jack doesn't spend much time with others, but that is much more a conscious choice of his. If you're not under his direct care, it's pretty hard to properly pin his schedule or whereabouts. So, there's really only one way to become close to the demon given: get injured.

You had been a proxy for a few years now. Still considered the newest in technical terms, you were far from that initial probationary-training period. Despite that, your almost permanent residency in Jack's infirmary was as strong as ever-- only rivaled by Toby.

An almost sheepish grin had spread over your face as Jack just considered you silently. Like clock-work, you would appear at his door at the beginning of the week with some sort of injury to be patched or checked. This time, you had all but dragged yourself to Jack's cabin, ankle throbbing from inside your hunting boot. "What happened this time?" If you could see his face, you're sure he would be raising an eyebrow skeptically. "Target tried to break my ankle..." You replied. "Really?" He asked, something like worry in his tone. "No," You admitted, "Just fell..." Jack sighed, less than surprised by the reality of your situation, "Alright, come in."

Your first few visits with the demon medic were certainly a bit intimidating. Seeing his inhuman features for the first time was jarring, and it didn't help that Tim would stand disapprovingly at your side. Too focused on disappointing your mentor or Slender itself, you hadn't really thought to talk to Jack more than a brief explanation of your injury.

As your visits became unaccompanied, you took a bit more care in the person treating your frequent injuries. Letting random topics fall from your lips on a whim, it seemed to work-- occasionally eliciting a chuckle or even a brief response. Now, he seemed a bit more talkative during your visits. Checking if he wrapped any bandages too tight or pausing when you hissed in pain, you always saw Jack as quite the skilled medic.

"If it hurts that bad, just go get pain meds from Jack." You huffed in annoyance. No matter how many times you found yourself having to work with Jeff, you managed to be shocked by his sheer skill at being an asshole each and every time. Despite the gauze pad on your cheek, which hardly covered the bruise that spread out underneath it, the other killer had been whining on and on about his own recent injury. You certainly weren't apathetic towards the stab wound that had taken him out for a week, but was it really still that relevant almost a month later? "Go to EJ?" Jeff barked in disbelief, "That dick would just call me a waste of resources." "Not if you were actually in pain, now get back to work." You scoffed at the exaggeration. "Are we talking about the same guy? He acts like we're running on scraps or some shit." He disregarded your words, as was expected. While you were intent to ignore him this time, Jeff clearly had other plans, " No seriously, does he just give you shit whenever you ask for it?" "Well, yeah. "Maybe if you weren't such a bitch he'd do the same for you." You looked at him in confusion. "Watch it," He snapped, "What'd you do to get him do that, suck his dick or--" "If you don't shut the fuck up, I'll give you a real reason to be bitching about pain meds." You threatened, raising your weapon to emphasize it. "Holy shit, no need to get your panties in a twist." Jeff rolled his eyes but quieted down anyway. After a few moments, he piped up once more, "Ask around sometime. You'll see what I mean."

Imagine

Sleep pulled heavy at your eyelids as they begrudgingly drew open. Even in your haze, you realized the room around you was both familiar and unfamiliar all the same; how poetic. You knew Jack's cabin well, at this point. It was pretty bare-- any decorations being whatever the last tenant "left" around. Each room looked essentially the same, and your suspicion was only confirmed when you took note of the nose burning cleaning chemicals in the air.

You weren't left pondering in the silence for very long, though. As soon as you registered your location, the devil himself stepped in. Maneuvering with ease, his boots seemed to strategically miss the parts of the floor that creaked the loudest. He shut the door quietly, one hand on the door handle, and the other holding some sort of item. Your eyes hadn't fully adjusted to the dark enough to discern it.

"You're awake." Jack spoke without you having to say a word.

He'd briefly explained his enhanced senses to you before, something about breathing being especially amplified to his ears, "If I wasn't you would look real stupid right now."

"To who?" He asked, "The dust?"

"Good one." Despite the sarcasm, you appreciated his dry humor.

Moving closer, he practically towered over the short bed frame. From this angle and lighting, you could see how those dark, soulless eyes could strike fear in the average person. Although, you couldn't quite imagine the role of a victim for long given the plate of food grasped in his left and-- as opposed to a scalpel. With his free hand, he swiftly moved to turn on the small table-lamp beside you. The yellow glow was dim compared to a normal light source, but it still stung your unadjusted eyes.

"If you're hungry," He explained as he placed the plate down, "you're fine to eat solids."

"I'd hope so," You muttered, "I don't think I've lost that many teeth."

His outward appearance didn't change, but you could tell he was amused by the comment, "The healthy amount would be zero."

Oh right, you weren't just in here for fun. Shuffling to the other side of the bed, Jack gently inspected the IV solution hanging up just beside you. Seeming satisfied with his gentle prodding, he regarded you once more.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

"Fine," You shrugged, "You're a miracle worker like always."

Jack scoffed gently, "The medicine is, not me."

You rolled your eyes at his response, but he wasn't keen on letting you get in the final word on that matter, "What happened?"

Hearing the question, you took a pause. Despite the aforementioned pain-meds coursing through your system, you could still feel a dull throb around your calf. It didn't take much for missions to go wrong. Just a split second too long and suddenly you were in the midst of a police chase, K-9 units released along your path like you were some sort of heathen like Jeff.

"Dogs." You answered bitterly.

Averting your gaze to the plate of food beside you, you noted the small wafts of steam still leaving the dish, "Did you just make this?"

"Yes," Jack let you maintain the subject change, "Why?"

"Were you just going to leave it there if I wasn't awake? Seems like a pretty lousy gift" You noted.

"I could tell you were waking up." He attempted to defend himself.

"You can tell through the walls?" You asked skeptically.

"I had to check your vitals." Jack explained once more.

"Why didn't you check the IV then?" A smirk edged its way onto your face as you noticed you had caught him in his lie.

Jack would never admit to that, though, "Eat the food if you want it. I have other things to do."

Stuffing his hands into his hoodie pockets, he headed quickly for the door. He never left quicker than when you managed to fluster him, a fact you tended to tease him for whenever the opportunity would arise.

"Sure thing, Jack." You called after him sarcastically.

"Don't let it get to your head," Jack bit back, "Sherlock."

[carn4g3]

hear me out:

Yandere Toby being given a target who's in college and ends up fronting as a students

Meets reader, who's actually patient with Toby and doesn't fault him or make fun of his tics

Decides to prolong his "stay" and then finding out Reader had a partner

But he's just got to have them

(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

Journalistic Intent | Yandere Ticci Toby x GN Reader

Summary: A school reporting gone sideways. Toby is simply tasked to collect an impromptu Slenderman candid. Instead, he finds himself more interested in the photographer, you. Surely, it wouldn't hurt to take you with him instead, would it?

TWs: Descriptions of yandere behavior (manipulation and obsession), delusional thinking (by no means an accurate representation of real mental illness), explicit violence, verbal arguments, some details of gore and blood, & reader is a bit of a people pleaser

Word Count: 7.5k

A/N: I tend to write things from the reader's perspective a bit more, but I tried to go from Toby's instead. So, theres a little bit (who am I kidding, a lot bit) of unreliable narration here hehe.

The large sets of double doors at the back of the room screeched and groaned at infuriating intervals as students trickled into the echoing lecture hall. The seats creaked in an equally shrill manner as each of those students inevitably found a seat in the room. Though the people themselves were mostly silent, a few quiet conversations peaked out here and there and only further grated on Toby's ears.

"Fuckin' stupid..." He muttered under his breath.

This wasn't even supposed to be his assignment. Hoodie was usually the one who headed missions that went into the city like this given he had a little bit more charisma than any of the other proxies. But, apparently even that wouldn't be enough for him to pass under the radar as a generic college student. Inexplicably, in his opinion, that managed to fall on Toby. Adorned in a university branded pullover and a generic disposable mask, he found himself seated in the middle rows of some 100-person lecture.

Seated in the row before him was the target. Having gone on an adventure to the woods just a handful of miles away, you had managed to snag a photo of Slender. It wasn't the most damning evidence of the creature Toby had ever seen; its featureless white face peeking out between the branches of some background foliage, only a keen observer would be able to notice the dark shape that resembled the rest of its body. Nevertheless, you had stupidly chosen to hand the photo off to be published in some sort of school magazine. The article seemed to be hardly noteworthy beyond the handful of conspiracy theorists who managed to get their hands on it, but Slender was a creature of principle. It needed the original photo in order to properly wipe it from existence, so that was Toby's goal-- acquire that photo by any means.

Toby despised missions like these. The lack of clear parameters set his thoughts ablaze, and he was even worse at remaining below the radar. He could already feel the judgmental glares of the people beginning to crowd the room as his body jerked against his will. Tapping his nail against the desk space in front of him, his eyes wandered to those prying eyes. Heads turning to acknowledge the freak in the room, he swore he saw two girls begin to laugh about him from the front row. God, why couldn't he just gouge out their eyes-

"Alright folks, looks like it's 12 o'clock, so I'll go ahead and get started." A man spoke from the front of the room.

His voice abruptly cut through all the chatter and silenced it almost instantly. Given that the man was standing confidently at the front of the room, Toby could only guess that this was the teacher. He hardly cared to listen to what the man was droning on about as he clicked through the slides of some sort of introductory presentation. Casting his focus downwards, Toby took note of you once more. He could only see the back of your head from the seat he had chosen, but he had already studied your appearance carefully beforehand. You looked like what Toby imagined a college student would-- not to mention, you were undeniably attractive.

Toby's first task was to find a way into your apartment where the photo (likely) was hiding. Living in some sort of high-rise, he couldn't simply break in through the window. Your building also appeared to have slightly more security than average: cameras, alarm systems, and even actual security personnel at night. Without the usual means of easy escape, he would need to execute a break-in relatively undetected. Hoodie suggested he simply try to steal your keys and slip into your apartment while you're still away at class. It was certainly the easiest way, but Toby hated that he was even considering following the other man's suggestion.

"Why don't you all turn to someone around you and introduce yourself. Name, major, why you're taking this class, all the usual stuff," The teacher's voice surfaced once more, "Try to talk to someone you don't know, preferably."

With the instructions cutting through Toby’s pensive thoughts, he finally managed to look around the space he was occupying. No one had sat near him, though he wasn’t surprised. The closest student was about three seats away and already had their attention turned towards the person next to them. He scoffed, the situation reminding him too much of high school. Shifting towards you, he wondered who had managed to catch your interest, maybe even curious about gaining some additional information on you. Instead, your features were pointed at him, a gentle smile falling over your face as you said your name.

"My major is journalism, and I guess I'm really only taking this class for the university requirement." You went through the introduction pointers the teacher had given, "What about you?"

Toby's eyes widened as you kept speaking. Your gaze was soft and laced with curiosity, and you were talking to him. Unsure if the moment was even real, Toby had to blink a few times before he finally produced a response.

"I'm T-Toby-- shit!" Of course, reality came crashing back to him as his fist unwillingly pounded against his chest and an equally involuntary swear followed after.

The chatter around the two of you seemed to quiet at that. Soon enough, the hush conversation returned like a swarm. The words weren't clear, but Toby knew they must be talking about him. It was just like when he was a kid. People constantly laughed and pointed at him like they were subtle, but they weren't-- not in the slightest. Catching the sideways glance of someone else in the room, Toby had to clench his fists tight to stop himself from rushing over and punching that stupid look of superiority off their face.

"Hey, you're all good, take your time if you need to." Your words cut through his spiraling senses almost instantly.

Looking down at you, Toby expected to see the look of disgusted judgement or pity he always received. Instead, you looked just as you had before. Smile reaching your eyes, you seemed so understanding, so welcoming. He barely noticed the way his fists grew slack until he was speaking again.

"I um... don't h-have a major," He tried to echo the response you had given him, keeping details vague as he was taught to, "and I'm he-here for the same-- fuck-- same reason."

You nodded along to his words, "Is this your first year here or are you still just trying to figure all the major stuff out?"

"Uh... first year." He answered with uncertainty.

"Oh nice! I've been here for a few years now, so I'm almost at the end of my degree. I just have to get these annoying gen requirements out of the way," You replied, "Believe me, don't do what I did. Just get all of these your way your first few years."

Nodding as you gave your piece of advice, Toby's focus strayed to your lips as you spoke. Watching the way they moved as you spoke, you seemed very knowledgeable. Admittedly, he knew next to nothing about college and would never need to, but the way you talked to him and gave him advice regardless. Why wasn't everyone just like you?

To his disappointment, your attention was quickly drawn back to the professor as he called the class together once more. He wasn't all too happy that his only sight of you was the back of your head, but the quieting chatter around him finally let the thoughts flow through his brain evenly. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to linger around a bit longer.

The days Toby got to see you next were too few and far between. Only three days a week for 90 minutes, that was hardly enough time to spend with you. Especially as the teacher droned on and on at the front of the room, Toby could only wait anxiously in the seat behind you for the next time you would turn to him-- the room fading around you two fading into obscurity.

He was never the most punctual when he was last in a school setting: frequently showing up late or outright skipping classes he didn't want to be in. But here, he was always the first through those creaky double doors. Waiting anxiously, he could feel his heart pound against his chest as each new person entered the room. Some nights, Toby could hardly sleep with the way the anticipation killed him.

"How did you do on the quiz?" Your voice swelled melodically to his ears.

"Quiz..." Toby echoed.

He vaguely remembered the professor mentioning something about an online quiz. It had practically gone in one ear and out the other since he wasn't actually a student.

"Not g-great." He muttered, almost sadly.

A sympathetic look crossed your features at that response, "Aw, I'm sorry. It was definitely a bit of a rougher one."

Toby knew those words were just a lie to make him feel better about his supposed failure. You seemed to pay steadfast attention to the content of the class. He would watch as you took delicate notes on each concept-- keeping up with the teacher's fast talking pace far better than he could. You probably aced the test without a second thought about it.

"Do you have any good study strategies or anything like that?" You asked next.

Toby shrugged, "Just... not g-good at i-it."

You sighed once more, a look of pity crossing your features. Toby would have despised it from anyone else, but he almost felt a swell of pride seeing you direct such a feeling at him.

"It took me a while to get into some good study habits too," You added, "Hey, why don't we study together for the next quiz?"

The man perked up at the offer. Were you offering to spend time with him? You watched him expectantly, waiting for an answer to your question. He couldn't possibly say no.

"Ye- shit! Yeah, th-that'd be great." He hated the way he struggled out the response, but it hardly mattered when you appeared so unbothered by it.

You beamed at him, "Great! Here, let's exchange numbers so we can plan it when it gets closer."

Without another word, you turned around to grab your phone. Your thumbs moving swiftly across the pop-up keyboard, Toby had half a mind to remember that he didn't even know his own phone number.

"Can y-you just-- fuck-- write it?" Toby asked.

Your motions halted quickly at the request, "Oh yeah, sure."

Turning around once more, he had to lean forward slightly to watch as your pencil scrawled across the paper in the form of your phone number. Tearing off the small scrap, you swiveled back around and held it out towards Toby. He was almost nervous to reach out for it, hand jittery as he slowly extended it from his body. Trying to reign in his nerves, he did his best to repress any of the bubbling sensations of a tic looking to seize his arm. Finally grasping the small slip of paper, he simply couldn't stop himself from letting his fingers graze against your own slightly just to see what it was like.

"Just let me know it's you whenever you text." You chuckled.

"Yeah..." He trailed off, attention turned entirely to the tiny piece of paper.

Thumbs smoothing out the curling corners, Toby's eyes followed the soft trail your pencil had left, swooping and curling around each number. You had written down your name as well. He wanted to run his fingers over the graphite, as though he could feel your touch through it, but he knew the sweat beading at his hands would smear your perfect writing. Turning his gaze back to you, his words caught in his throat as he noticed your attention had turned back to the front of the room. The teacher had been talking for who knows how long now, completely stealing your attention.

The words of the man at the front of room had become a dull droning to his ears quickly. He could barely sit still as he waited for the teacher to finally shut up. Eyes darting between you, your number on the paper, and the clock, his leg bounced almost furiously as the seconds ticked closer and closer to the usual end time. It took far too long before the shuffling of backpacks hit his ears, other students beginning to stand and exit the room just as hastily as he would have if it weren't for you.

Standing abruptly, Toby took the opportunity to talk to you, "D-do you study a.. a lot?"

It took you a moment to turn to him as you gathered your things, "Oh um... I guess. Maybe not as much as I should."

"It pro-probably does-- doesn't matter for you-- shit! Anyways," He muttered, picking at his fingers absentmindedly, "You're real- really smart."

A smile spread over your face at the compliment, "You're sweet, Toby. Thank you."

Heat rushed to his ears like a wildfire, heart hammering against the inside of his chest once more. God, he could hear you say his name like a mantra, over and over and over...

"You should give yourself more credit, though," You continued speaking, "You're smart as well."

Toby's eyes widened as he quickly shook his head, "N-no-- fuck! I'm not... really."

"You are!" You insisted, "Doing good or bad on a test in just one subject-- hell, even several-- hardly says anything about what you actually know."

The words didn't particularly ring too important to Toby, his brain still lingering on the way you called him smart. If you said it to him, it must be true. It conjured memories of the things his fellow proxies would call him. How Hoodie spoke to him like he was an idiotic child, or the way Masky outright called him a dumbass. Everything he had called Toby over the years, he wondered what the other man would think if he heard the way you talked about him. He wished he could take you with him, present you to that bastard himself and show him how wrong he is.

"Tha-anks." Toby muttered bashfully.

"Of course." You smiled at him once more, the look sending shocks straight to his heart.

Toby hadn't even realized the two of you had left the classroom, too enraptured by your words. As a sudden cool air seeped through the fabric of his sweater, he took note that he was outside now. He normally didn't feel much about such changes in temperature, but the breeze felt pleasantly cool against his skin. That usually meant he was overheating without having noticed it. A bit of panic edged its way into his consciousness, he hoped you hadn't noticed.

"It's getting so cold out lately." You stuffed your hands into your pockets.

"Yeah, i-it's..." The words fizzled out in his throat as his eyes fell on a familiar figure.

Tan jacket and a coil of smoke, why was he here? He rarely ever saw Tim without a mask, but this was most obviously a situation that called for it. Eyes raising from the ground, they met Toby's. Tossing the cigarette on the pavement, he stubbed it out under his work boot and shoved his hands into his pockets. The gesture was clear, he wanted to talk.

"Everything alright?" Your voice piped up.

"I'm fine." He answered sharply.

"Ok..." You trailed off, "I'll see you next class."

Casting him an almost pitiful look, you walked away. Toby's gut twisted unpleasantly as he recognized that look. You were better than that. You didn't think of him like that, not until Masky showed up, at least. He just had to ruin everything for Toby, didn't he? Moving briskly towards the older man, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides.

"What do yo-you want." Toby practically growled the words

"You're taking your time." Tim matched the other man's tone.

"It's not my j-j... job, I can take however-- shit-- long I'd like." Toby countered

"No, you can't," His words were stern, the no-nonsense tone that Toby hated, "You have your own assignments you need to take care of."

"Maybe you sh-- shouldn't have handed this... shit off to-- fuck! Me," He hissed, "Start d-doing your own sh... shit for once."

"I didn't ask for your opinion." Masky's face twisted in contempt.

He didn't give Toby a chance to reply before continuing, "Get your mind out of your dick and finish the job. I'm not gonna fuckin ask again."

"Is that all you ca-came to do?" Toby spat, "Bi-bitch about the job you-- fuck! couldn't fig-figu... figure out for yourself?"

"Shut the hell up," Tim muttered with barely concealed rage, "I'll kill that bitch myself if you don't get to it."

"Fuck you!" Toby's raised tone caught the gaze of some passing students.

He shot a glare of his own at the few eyes that accidentally met his. He had no patience for their judgmental stares, not when Masky grated on his nerves so much. Much to his further irritation, the older man simply shook his head at the threat, leaving after wordlessly having deemed the conversation complete. It took all of Toby's restraint to not follow after him, even if it would have been so easy to just cave his skull in from the back. He could do it with his own fists if he really wanted to. Eventually, he found himself calming down. Releasing the pressure from his hands, he had left crescent indents in his palms, but it wasn't like he could feel the sting of them anyways.

He would show Tim. You would show Tim.

Toby's eyes lingered over the text bubble on the screen, "Hey, this is Toby." The greeting was simplistic, but, after mulling over it for about 10 minutes, he finally gathered the courage to let his thumb fall onto the send button. He was almost getting impatient staring at the cracked screen, tapping it periodically so it wouldn't go dark. As expected, though, you pulled through-- those three dots popping up from the other side of the screen.

"Hey, Toby," Your text read, "How was your day?"

His heart fluttered at the question, "good," he resisted the urge to type that he missed you, "how was yours?"

"Not too bad, I wish all my classes were as easy as the one we have." You answered.

Toby read over the message a few times, lingering on one word repeatedly: we. He wished everything of yours could be shared. Too busy thinking, he must have taken long enough that you decided to send another text.

"Were you still interested in studying together?" The message asked.

"Yes." He wasted no time in typing and sending the response.

"I was looking at the next quiz and it's coming up way sooner than I thought," It took a moment for you to type the sentence, "I'm free after 10 next Thursday if that works?"

"I am." Toby remained just as eager.

"Ok great! Would the library work for you?" You asked

Toby's thumbs had readied another frantic response of approval, wishing nothing more than to just get to see you already, but they soon stopped short of the screen. He was willing to meet you anywhere for anything, but should he? Masky's words echoed in his head and sent another course of pure anger through his veins. The tree across from him had still yet to recover, wood spent and splintered from the way he had slammed his hatchet into it so viciously. As much as he hated it, the man didn't make his threats meaningless. He would intervene if Toby took too long, and the thought of Masky's disgusting hands on you made his own skin crawl.

"Not the library," He answered instead, "Too many people."

He worried his bottom lip as you took longer to respond than previous, but your message eventually appeared, "That's all good. How about we meet at my apartment instead."

"That's perfect." Toby hardly thought it through before sending the agreement.

You had to have known exactly what he wanted, giving him an answer so perfect like that. Not only would he get to spend time with you, (alone, at that) but he could also acquire that damn photo that brought him here in the first place.

"Ok great! How about we meet at 11, I'll send you the address when it gets closer." Your final text read.

He poured over your texts repeatedly, your address becoming a fixture in his memory once you sent it to him. Toby hardly noticed the way the time passed until he was there, sitting in the lobby space of your apartment building. Not really checking the time before he arrived here, he was undoubtedly early. People passed in and out quite frequently, entering through the door, exiting through the elevators, some checking their mailbox, others wandering to areas out of Toby's sight. It seemed like a nice place, probably expensive, but you had probably worked hard to acquire it.

Scrolling through your texts once more, Toby's eyes flitted upwards as he noticed someone new approach the exterior door. Pushing into the building's glass door, he immediately recognized you. Seeming focused on heading towards the elevators, Toby shot up out of his seat before you could miss him.

"Oh, Toby," You greeted, a bit of surprise in your voice, "You're early."

"Yeah..." He trailed off, sensing you didn't seem quite as thrilled to see him as he was you, "I ca-can wait if you-- shit! Need."

"No, no, it's fine, no point in going all the way up just to come back down, right?" You shook your head.

Continuing your previous path, you led Toby with you this time, "Here, I live on the 4th floor, so we'll take one of the elevators up."

"I-it's really nice," Toby commented, "The building."

"Compared to some of the other places around here, yeah," You nodded in agreement, "It's not cheap at all, though, but it's a lot better than the university apartments. What about you? Are you living in the dorms right now or somewhere else?"

"Somewhere e-else." He kept his reply short, hoping you would keep talking.

"Nice, like with your parents or are you renting around here?" You pressed.

Toby shifted uncomfortably at the mention of parents, your questions getting on his nerves a little more than he would like, "Just somewhere else."

"Oh ok," You trailed off, "Sorry for prying."

Just as the words of apology left your lips, the bell of the arriving elevator cut through the tense atmosphere. Doors sliding open, you stepped in wordlessly, pressed the button marked for floor 4, and settled into a spot in the small space. With no one else entering, Toby was left with you as the door slid shut. He felt unsettled for a moment in the small, enclosed space, but it quickly faded as his spiraling mind took note of you. Has he ever been able to linger this close to you before? The air felt warmed from your breaths, the pleasant smell of your clothes intermixing as he shifted closer to you. You looked too dejected standing there silently, watching the numbers count up on the screen above the door.

"It's f-fine," Toby responded to your earlier apology, "How l-l... long have you lived he-here?"

"This is only my 2nd year here, but I'll probably move out once I graduate." You answered, perking up once more.

"Where are you moving?" He asked quickly.

"We're still planning it a bit. I'm hoping to get into this internship program my mentor works with, so it would be a bit far from here and in a way bigger city." You continued to ramble on about the internship opportunity until the elevator reached your floor.

Doors sliding open, Toby was greeted by a long, carpeted hallways. Various doors staggered across each side with unit numbers fixated around the upper middle. He wasn't too focused on it all, following after you as he let his thoughts linger on your words. This town was already pretty far out of his usual scope, but it wasn't impossible to reach if he really wanted to see you again. If you left, though, he certainly wouldn't be able to locate you there. Especially with Masky's micromanaging, he would hardly make it to finding your new address before the other man stopped him.

"Toby?" His name on your lips catching his interest once more.

"Y-yeah?" He looked at you expectantly.

"I just asked if you brought anything to study with. You didn't leave anything in the lobby, right?" You asked.

"I didn't..." He trailed off, realizing his mistake, "I do bet- better without them."

"Ok, that's fine! We can just use my textbook and stuff," You nodded, "Anyways, welcome in! Sorry for the mess, I was hoping to clean a little bit beforehand, but it's alright."

A variety of decorations and other personal effects were strewn about the place in what seemed to be an intentional manner. It looked lived in, much cozier than anywhere Toby stayed. Only retiring to his allotted cabin in the woods to crash for a few hours, he never really thought of making it look nice. Toby wondered how you might decorate his cabin, where you would put your things. What would you do with the few items he did have? He felt a rise of anticipation thinking about your possessions intermixed.

"Why don't you just wait on the couch while I get a few things, ok?" You offered, tossing your bag onto the aforementioned couch.

"Can I see?" He asked.

"Like the rest of the apartment?" He nodded in confirmation, "Um... yeah, it's a bit messy as well, but as long as you don't mind."

"It's a lot-- shit! Cleaner than my pl-lace." Toby attempted to ease your apprehension.

You chuckled, "Yeah, well... we try our best."

Walking expertly through the apartment, you headed down a short hallway-- ending up in what looked to be an office space. As expected, it wasn't as messy as you claimed it to be. Decorations seemed to be in designated places with important work in the others. The last time Toby had any type of desk must have been in his childhood. Even though much time had passed, he hardly knew what the desk looked like then, using its surface as a glorified junk drawer. Looking over the items you chose to place in the space, he took note of a few photos. There were some with you as the focus, but they were mostly a mix of people that Toby didn't recognize-- those must be your friends. He wasn't surprised to see you had several. Trailing up further, he saw it: a digital camera.

"Do you t-take photos?" He snatched the device off the desk to observe it.

"Oh... Yeah, I do. Just um... be careful with that." You approached him as he powered it on.

Seeing the logo flash on the screen, it didn't take long for the screen to turn from a dark void to a recognizable interface. He managed to pick up on it quickly, despite the many years it had been since he so much as glanced at a modern digital camera. The photos weren't anything too interesting, none of them were of you. Depicting mostly the school buildings or the city outside it, he flicked through them quickly until he hit the important ones. Changing starkly from the prior pictures of outdoor art pieces, Toby recognized the trees instantly. He practically grew up in those woods you had merely visited for a few chance photos, yet you managed to capture it perfectly.

"Wh-what were-- fuck! These for?" Toby looked at you briefly.

"It's just some nature shots of the woods a few miles North," You answered, hovering close to him, "for a journalistic photography class. Why don't we head back to the living room now?"

Toby disregarded your words, briefly scanning photo after photo until he found the one. He didn't look at the target photo all too much when Hoodie had shown him initially. Looking at it from your view, he noted the way the light shone through the dew-covered leaves so beautifully that even he almost missed the stark white face of his boss peaking through them. Toby really had to wonder why he presented himself to you. No obsessions with the morbid aspects of life, you seemed a bit more normal than even the tamest individuals who received the privilege of spotting Slender. Not to mention, you hadn't even cemented yourself as worrisome enough to be deemed a target. As far as Toby was concerned, Slenderman didn't make mistakes. He didn't just let some random human snag a picture for the hell of it. Your ability to capture this photo alone was proof enough that you were special in some way, even Slender had to agree.

"Wh-what's this?" He asked, placing a finger on the screen just underneath Slender's face.

"Oh, it was probably a weird camera glitch or something. This thing is getting old." Slipping your hand around Toby's, he let you take the camera out of his hands.

Turning it off, you placed it back where he had found it, "Come on, let's try to get some studying done."

He didn't like your dismissal of his question, eager to pry you on it further. What if you did know about Slender's existence? If you were just a normal person, he wouldn't want you to get wrapped in the cruelty of his fellow proxies or the less restrained violence of the other members. But, you clearly knew something was going on. Were you trying to shield Toby from it? Did you care for him? With those thoughts swirling around his mind, he followed you silently to the living room.

Once he could focus on actually studying, it turned out to be a bit more satisfying than Toby last remembered it. It was frustrating at first as you asked question after question that he didn't know the answer to. He didn't actually care to listen to the professor, as you called the man at the front of the room. However, it was made up for by the way you gently explained each topic, the words sticking in his mind better than they ever had before. An almost euphoric joy would fill him every time you smiled at his correct answers and explanations-- no matter how much he stuttered through them.

"I think we've covered a lot today, right?" You asked.

Toby nodded eagerly, "Is there any...more?"

"Well, we've gone over pretty much all the content now for the upcoming quiz and the last one too," You answered, "I'm not sure there's anything else to work on."

"Can we g-go over it-- shit-- one more time?" Toby asked.

"You're doing pretty good, Toby. I think you'll do well on the quiz based on what we've done so far." You replied.

Toby felt a bit disappointed by your rejection, but he wasn't going to let it sour him too much, "Just a lit-- little bit more?"

Your lips pursed together as you thought over the request for a moment, but you eventually gave a desirable response, "Ok, we'll just go over the newest things a bit more. That sound good?'

"Yes," He answered, "That's perfect."

"Just a heads up, my--" You began to speak, but your words lost Toby's attention as he heard a sound from the front door behind him.

Shooting up from his seat, he stared at the barrier as a muffled clicking sound reverberated through it. Someone was unlocking the door, but who? Was it Masky? Toby's gut twisted at the thought. It had been about a week since he last saw the man. More importantly, since he had threatened to kill you. The time difference was a bit longer than the punctual bastard would usually like, but it wasn't like he had nothing to show for it. Was he here to follow through on that threat? Could the asshole really not handle someone liking-- no, loving-- Toby for once? As the door opened, he waited with bated breath for that black and white mask and the shimmer of a handgun.

However, none of that happened.

"Oh, hey there. You must be Toby, right?" The person greeted him.

"Sorry Toby, I didn't think we would still be working this late, but I was just about to let you know," You spoke up after them, "This is my partner..."

Toby didn't listen to the rest of the introduction, the words "partner" ringing through his head like a bout of tinnitus. The stranger standing before him was your partner. He couldn't help but critique them from just their stance alone. You hadn't even mentioned a partner before now, and you and Toby were close too. Did you not actually care about this person? Surely, if you did, you would be jumping to talk about them.

"Yeah... I'm just going to get out of your guys' way. It's nice to meet you, Toby." Your partner nodded at him before heading off.

"I'm just going to go plug my phone in real quick, so just wait here for a moment." You followed suit, leaving him alone in the living room.

He didn't like how quickly you had left him. You were fine sitting mere feet away from him just minutes ago. Now, you were practically running to keep your distance. Something had to be wrong. Still stunned, it took him a minute before he finally decided to creep down the hallway. The sound of hushed voices was clear, despite the clear attempts to keep the conversations hidden behind a closed door. Creeping closer, Toby managed to find a position where he could best make out the words.

"I can tell him to leave if you want." Your partner's words were first.

"No, you don't have to. I'm just worried about coming off as mean." Your response followed.

"Well you two were supposed to be done like hours ago. It's not unreasonable to kick this creep out of your own home." Those words caused a prickle of anger to hit Toby.

He had no doubt this supposed partner of yours was referring to himself. It was far from the first time he had been called a creep; he hardly flinched at the "insult" anymore. But to think you felt the same? He waited almost anxiously for your response.

"Don't call him that. He's just... a bit awkward" You sighed, "Look, it's partially my fault for not setting a clear time we needed to be done."

Of course, you wouldn't believe such things about him. You were perfect, a saint even, he doubted you even thought of him so negatively until this stranger suggested it.

"I can handle it myself, ok? You don't need to worry about it." You added after a moment.

"I trust you," They replied "but if you need my help, I'll be right here."

Silence fell over the room for a few moments. He listened closely, hoping to gather something-- the shuffle of clothes, the press of lips-- but he was hopeless to discern anything. With the way his blood was practically pounding in his ears, he couldn't even think. You liked him, didn't you? You didn't want to kick him out, right? It must have been your partner who convinced you that it was the right decision. The thought of that stranger being so close to you right now, touching you, grated his nerves further. You deserved better than that. You deserved him.

"Oh Toby! Is everything alright?" Your voice appeared much louder than before.

In fact, you were standing right in front of him. Eyes wide, you looked shocked-- maybe even scared to be looking at him. Realizing he was a bit too close to justify a casual run in, he thought quick on his feet.

"The bathroom," He answered, "Couldn't fi-find it."

"I'm sorry, I meant to show you earlier. It's just that room, right there." You pointed in it's direction.

"Thanks." He muttered.

Shuffling past you, he let his shoulder brush against your own. Would you like his touch more than that awful partner of yours? He might not be as warm or soft. His tics got in the way sometimes, but you clearly didn't mind. Entering the bathroom, he shut and locked the door behind him. Toby considered snooping around the room for a moment but quickly discovered it lacked any of the personal flair the other rooms did. This must be a guest bathroom of sorts, disappointingly.

Turning on the faucet to believably pass the time, he couldn't help but think of the look you had given him just moments ago. You were scared. He usually enjoyed that expression when it was directed at him, but he didn't like it on you. It wasn't possible you were scared of him. Toby was hardly covered in any of the intimidating accessories he normally wore to elicit such a response-- not even a speck of blood. Could you be scared of your partner? That had to be it. You were a strong and smart person as far as Toby had gathered, so they must have hit you somewhere weak to agree to drive him away. You wouldn't need to worry for long, Toby thought, he would save you.

Deciding he had spent enough time here, he shut the faucet off. Returning to the living room, he found you sitting almost rigidly on the couch. Your partner was nowhere to be seen, probably a norm for you. Looking towards him sharply, you gave him a false smile-- the joy not quite reaching your eyes like he normally preferred.

"Hey Toby, I'm so sorry, I completely forgot my partner and I have dinner reservations not too long from now," You said, "Is it alright if we call it today? I can totally study with you some other time if you need."

He knew it was a lie, but Toby wouldn't fault you for that. He knew it wasn't your decision.

"Yeah it's--fuck! Fine." He nodded, "I'll s-see you."

You stood from the couch, a real smile lighting up your features this time, "Yeah, let me know how the test goes for you to! Do you need me to walk you out or do you remember the way back?"

"I got it." Toby replied plainly, fists curling in his pockets.

Temperature didn't usually mean much to Toby, but the almost cold chill he felt when greeted with the exterior hallway was the closest he had come to it. Stepping out the door-- no-- Leaving you felt uninviting, like he would be entering a world he had never navigated before. As much as it pained him, he would have to wait to see you again. Letting his hand fall from his pocket, his fingers tips brushed against the back of your hand as he passed by the door. He relished in smoothness against his rough fingertips, the warmth of your hands. Toby would have you soon. He knew it.

"Goodbye." He spoke as he stepped out.

"Bye." The door was shut quick after your short response, leaving him alone.

Turning in the direction you two had come from not so long ago, Toby's hand returned to his pocket. Curling comfortably once more, he felt the cool, jagged metal press into the palm of his hand. He's sure you'd hardly notice the absence of your house keys.

It must have been a loud sound you weren't used to, despite your usually noisy neighbors. But, with your brain too wrapped in sleep, you could hardly remember what it was that had woken you up now. Rolling over, you were greeted with the freezing hug of the sheets your body heat hadn't touched in hours. Checking the clock, it was 3AM to your dismay. Far too early to be up, you wondered if you would even be able to go back to sleep before your classes tomorrow or if you would just toss and turn restlessly. Turning to see if your partner had been startled by the noise as well, you found the bedside to be empty-- sheets thrown back.

Your eyes begged to pull shut once more, but you resisted the urge in favor of locating your partner. Sitting up revealed that the bathroom connected to your shared bedroom was dark, they weren't in there. Turning to the bedroom door instead, you found it left slightly ajar. That must have been the way they went.

Waiting for a few moments, you failed to hear any of the usual sounds of the building: the shuffling of steps in your apartment, creaking of your upstairs neighbors, or especially loud traffic from the road. It was almost eerily quiet. Unsettled enough, you decided to investigate for yourself. Embracing the cold air, you tossed your blankets off of your form. Shifting to stand, it took you a moment longer than usual to adjust to the sensation of the floor under the soles of your feet. Nevertheless, you moved forward, gently pushing the door open to reveal your hallway.

It was dark, but never too dark as the city lights shined through the exterior windows in your living room. Following the path they illuminated, you headed towards your kitchen-- hoping to find your partner there. With a cursory glance of the open-concept space, they were nowhere to be found. Maybe they had chosen to go to your shared office for some reason? While the thought popped into your mind, you weren't quite done in the kitchen.

Stepping a bit further in, you noticed an out of place dark mark on the counter. Leaning close to it, you tried to discern the weird mess of thick lines that had befallen the granite's edge. It was too dark for you to properly tell the color, but you guessed it was just a small spot you had missed when cleaning up after dinner. Maybe your partner had accidentally left it when getting a midnight snack, or they were intending to return to clean it. Not too worried by it, you straightened up and readied to head to the office.

That was when you saw it.

Not just a mark of color, but a puddle of it like vomit on the sidewalk. It splattered on the fridge, some specks peaking onto the wall from behind the center island. In between it all sat a severed forearm, your partner's darkened and sticky hair splayed out not far behind it. The rest of their body was hidden from you, and the gore you could see was hardly something your brain could comprehend. You had seen human innards in biology and anatomy diagrams, not tangibly in front of you on your kitchen floor. Your blood ran cold, a sweat breaking out across your skin, and a guttural scream bubbled in your diaphragm. Before it could be released, something cupped your mouth harshly, pulling your body back into another clothed being.

"I'm s-sorry," The pressure of their hold tightened as they stuttered, "I di-didn't want... you to see that."

Your scream fell into a strangled sort of sound at the appearance of an unknown assailant. Hands darting up to fight the force restraining you, you wanted to scream louder and thrash like there was no tomorrow. You could feel your heart beating out of your chest as reality finally presented itself to you. You were going to die.

"Sh- sh... shut up!" They hissed.

The words cut through your thoughts like a hot knife. Despite your intuition, you managed to keep quiet with the exception of your muffled, gasping breaths. Seeming satisfied with that, the assailant easily turned your body so that you were no longer facing the bloody kitchen scene.

"I di-did what you-- fuck! Wanted." They spoke once more.

Even through the fog of disassociation, you didn't miss the striking details of the currently faceless murderer behind you. The swearing, the twitches, the tone of voice, it all pointed to one person.

"Toby..." The name on your mouth was muffled under his hold, but he recognized it regardless.

"Yes!" He exclaimed, "You kn-knew I was coming f-- fuck! For you, didn't you? That I was go-going to save you?"

The moment of clarity was quickly lost as he continued to speak. He must be delusional. His words certainly suggested as much, but it was something beyond that. Your partner was dead in the kitchen. No one with any standard mental illness would just do that. This was something beyond a socially awkward freshman taking a strange interest in you. The realization of it all crashing down upon you brought attention to the tears beginning to fall down your face.

"No, no, no, no, don't cr-cry." He cooed, his other hand coming up to sloppily wipe at your cheek.

"I kn-know you're-- shit! Happy, but w-we still got to get... get out of here." Toby continued, "Y-you'll be e-even happier where... where we're going."

Maybe you wouldn't die. But, you could only sob harder at what you were presented with instead.