general hcs for a handful of creepypastas :3
mostly a guideline for myself as I dive into creepypasta again
this post includes — Jeff, Eyeless Jack, BEN DROWNED, Masky/Tim, Hoodie/Brian
next post should include — Toby, Jane, Nina, Clockwork/Natalie, Kate, and Slenderman
tws!!! typical stuff, blood, violence, suggestive but no nsfw, substance (alcohol + drugs) abuse, not too serious? Again, more for myself than anything and i can't treat these guys seriously lul
word count - 3.7 k
BACKGROUND HCS
personally i'm torn between them all living in a mansion or having them be more realistically spread out
so i'm fusing it together idgaf
some creeps, mostly everyone BUT the proxies come and go from the mansion
think of the mansion as like . a hostel
that has a lot of rooms (so i guess it isn't a hostel but it's like similar vibes)
people who have places by themselves would be — EJ, Jane, Nina, Clockwork
these creeps rarely stay in the mansion themselves
people who come and go would be — Jeff, Kate, Masky, Hoodie, and Toby
many of these people disappear for weeks on end, some on missions while some are just dicking around
Ben and Slenderman would be the only ones of the list who actively stay within the mansion unless they want to go out, which doesn't happen very often
they all hate each other lmfao
or well, they can tolerate some creeps, just depends on who
JEFF THE KILLER —
total dick (as if we don't all collectively agree with this)
tell him to do one thing, he does the opposite typa guy
either it's out of spite or there's that voice in his head that just won't follow instructions out of selfishness
an inferiority complex that's so bad it loops back to being a superiority complex
as one of the creeps that comes in and out of the mansion, he doesn't really have a place to go to
he disappears for weeks or is holed up in his room at the mansion
he's more prone to disappearing though
which either has his room looking like a sterile hospital room (from how untouched it is) to being a garbage dump a Day with him being back
despite being a relatively unhygenic guy, he does take out the trash el oh el
only when it gets really bad though .
and it has to be when he's about to dip for god knows how long
then again if anyone mentions the rancid stench coming from his room he's almost proud and amused by it
"oh yeah? This ain't even the worst of it."
boy that was not a challenge
his personality consists of either being irritated, aggressive, or being playful in the hurtful way
isn't afraid to dig deep and make fun of you using something that he has no business bringing up what-so-ever
to a point where it's like 🤨
"adopted?" he stares "i can see why. If you look like this shitty i can't imagine what you looked like then."
like okay queen out I Guess
also when he's gone and off the face of the earth he's either drinking, popping whatever pill he finds in the alley (and if he's particulalry self loathing that day, needles aren't off the table either), or cross faded
it's either that or hunting for sport
he wouldn't ever go out hunting while intoxicated (maybe a Bit intoxicated but never fully) because it ruins the high of the kill for him
takes pride in what he does
so he takes a surprising amount of time on a victim, ranging from tormenting them to after he has killed them already
says there's an "art" to it
"just like what the egyptians did to the mummies."
as he's jutting his knife into the body's flesh, hand tensing whenever the blade would get jammed against a tendon or thick muscle
whatever you say bro
but on a lighter note, on a very rare occassion he will willingly sit somewhere in the manor, crack a cold one, and slowly drink
just by himself
it's even rarer that someone joins him but it Has happened
which then never lasts long because at some point Jeff gives them his trash and leaves
also the most normal thing about this guy is that his attitude is super similar to a frat bro's like, from the way he speaks (in grunts, or he's shouting no in between) to how he carries himself (full of arrogance and with a insecure inscentive to present as masculine as he can) it screams frat bro
unfortunately he is a 27 year old man
with greasy grimey matted hair
and somehow still gets huzz… sometimes
he either magically scores or he gets nothing and wakes up the next day frustrated and angry
freak btw if that wasn't just assumed of him
oh and he's wasian
the one positive trait he has is that he's wasian (jokes)
he's wasian specficially Chinese/American with an American mom from like California and a Chinese guy from Beijing
he's tall too like ? almost 6 ft sorry im too petty to give it to him
he's stupid
EYELESS JACK —
looove the animalistic take people have on him sometimes
this man has claws, shark teeth, and mayhaps a tail 🤔
his hair bristle
like it doesn't matter if he has short hair atop his head, he just does that
it's just he usually has his hood on his head so people don't see it anyways
anyways he does have his own place
HOWEVER he is still in the mansion a lot to act as medic
so he might as well live… there..
he refuses to though
he'd rather live in his shabby shack than to live in a place where he has to see the others more than he has to
he's rather chill with most of the proxies, but anyone else might be a no
if the creep's on the quieter sense he's very much more willing to tolerate them
don't let that distract you from the fact that he can be a bit of a pretentious asshole
sure he is right a lot of the times, but when that part of him slips out everyone just wants to punch this guy in the face
i'd like to think he was almost done his masters when he got sacrificed by the cult
which makes him even more bitter
because of that, he'd also probably be more wary of spaces / people that are openly religious
not when he sees someone wearing a cross he'd be like "oh that's a cross" but like someone who's just a bit more openly spiritual
not going to necessarily discriminate but he's not going to ass willingly interact with you with full interest you know
if anything, he'd be perfectly content not interacting at all
tad more civil than everyone else in the mansion
quiet (sort of) just because it's a "if I don't have anything to say, I won't say anything."
and no one can tell but he's side eyeing some people
he can be quite chatty if he permits it
it's just he's sort of ? stiff? with social interactions
kind of apathetic to a lot of stuff, he tries not to get attached to anything
but then again, that's most of the creeps
PURRS !!!!!!!!!!!
nobody can take that hc away from me or from ANYONE
and as always, he would rather kill someone than hear it be commented on
will stare at someone in complete silence when he's mildly angry
the noises start coming out when he's proper pissed
baring his teeth, growling, displeased clicks of the tongue(s)
large Guy,, like 6'4 maybe
doesn't necessarily hate being seen as a monster but definitely doesn't Like it
it sometimes gets him out of situations
but a lot of the time he's envying the life he could have had
he never admits it but he spends a lot of time thinking about it
but it never ends up feeling too real — never feels like something that was achievable at all because he can't even remember what his life was like before
all he has are make beliefs
i'm choosing to say he has Never liked "make belief" and all that sort of stuff
that's why he's a math and science guy
miss him with that humanities bullshit (i'm personally a poli sci major)
i like the idea of him being a first generation immigrant because it makes his story sadder to me
i see him being… maybe balkan tbh
greek Jack Nyras do we fw that
also his hygeine situation is aight 👍
he cleans up after himself well, it's just sometimes his living spaces get messy
messy in a way where he understands where everything is but someone else might not
very scribbly handwriting… doc handwriting as expected
despite his more feral moments, he generally is actually put together for the most part
stays in his lane, doesn't go searching for trouble (usually… )
very mundane creep. As mundane as one could be
BEN DROWNED —
kenzi monkey where the monkey is capable of playing minecraft (rest in heaven kenzi)
ironically i was high when i wrote that first sentence sorry guys, it's now been hours since then and i'm more clear as to what i meant
BEN'S MY FAVOURITE !!!!!! SORRY NOT SORRY IM GOING TO ADMIT IT FIRST AND FOREMOST
im genuinely the most excited about writing for him as of now
okay so white boy s
not really swag
but he's got white boy something
referring back to the first point, he is quite literally the Internet so he knows every. Single. niche, trend, or meme that happens
sometimes maybe not the full depth of a topic but he's at the very least Heard of it
"labubu… labubu…" heard across various devices in the manor and then an annoying snicker right after that cuts off in the middle
pulls shit in the manor ALL the time like fuck please shut up
also stays in his room 26/7 !!! LOSER !!!!!!!!
and it's so bad in there
it's worse than Jeff's
cans littered on the floor, chip bags, instant noodle cups stacked on each other on his desk, clothes strewn around (that he doesn't even wear, mind you.)
like those clothes aren't even dirty
they're just there
respects the Slenderman's authority where he won't bother Him so much that it ends up with real consequences
but also not enough to be all that useful — like he's not really at beck and call
only really does things when he has to, otherwise he's never touching shit
sits all day staring at his monitors, all different brands as "beggars can't be choosers" (he steals them, or gets Jeff to steal them)
if not Jeff, maybe he can get Toby to do it
not really, Toby kind of annoys him
Ben's in general indifferent to a lot of the creeps
he mostly gets along with like the "video game" creeps AND Jeff
they like being mischevious pieces of shits so they tag team sometimes
also Ben laughs like a hyena
it's very high pitched, screechy, sometimes staticy like you can hear the grain in his voice
throws his head back, hand slapping or grabbing onto whatever's nearest to him, belly laugh, falling out of his chair, "HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH HMYGOBHHAHAHAH" like okay buddy he made a 67 joke
speaking of, yes, he thinks brainrot is funny but also he's very selective about it
HATES IT once it gets too mainstream
"It's not even that FUNNY!" "last week you were Just laughing about your stupid chingus life or whatever."
my favourite guy ever but he Is going to be capped at 5'6 sorry
part of me likes to think he can ? "shift"? but imagine the way a glitch alters and stretches things
Ben can sort of control this, as long as he's stable, but other than that they happen and disappear within the blink of an eye
the most this glitch can alter is his size, and maybe his colours (like mf can probably be grey scale if he really tried to)
when he does leave the manor, he travels exclusively through electricity and devices
he has to be in a device as it provides him a sorts of Plan B just in case things go south and he needs an escape route
also just likes being in cyber space
the constant glitches he experiences outside of said space calms down a lot in this digital world, and he feels like the weight on his chest just disappears
the only bad thing about cyberspace is that staying too long could be bad for him
and if the device he's in were to lose battery, not connected to ANYTHING else (wifi, service) he could be erased
just gone
having the device wiped could possibly do that to him as well
but thankfully we're in a day and age where everyone is Always connected to the internet so that's less of a fear for him ^^
still stalks online forums
like the ones people used to visit in the early days of the internet
he will go on them and revive years old conversations by either rage baiting them or actually providing some good insight
the latter is rare
loves 4Chan, lives on Reddit, diving into every crevice of the internet to get his grubby hands on what could be his next thing to fixate on
it's also where he finds his next victims ! Yay !
he loves, loves, loves targetting people who are low lives
like people who are just as chronically online as him, no life
that discord mod that suddenly up and disappeared? oh boy hope he isn't tied up in wires so tight the damn things cut into his body
or having been electrocuted to the point where one can see how the guy's hair has charred and burned
or how his eye popped out of its socket
would definitely make a call on the guy's account to have some poor unsuspecting soul watch all of this unfold
best part of it all — Ben doesn't have to care that there was technically a witness
who's going to believe this One person, huh?
someone who's probably going to lose their mind from the sight they just witnessed
thus, Ben is also not a very physical killer "i'll strangle someone with my bare hands" kind of person unless it really calls for it
so his main thing is psychological torture
or just torture in general
genuinely i can rant and rave about him so much
but… i unfortunately also believe in stoner ben who gets his rocks off being high like 12/7 … he takes breaks !
and he really wouldn't mind being baked when killing someone too
it's just honestly more sad for the victim than anything
also not a big fan of religion
much more immature about it though, and will make fun / actively insult it
and target cultists
and like Jeff, major freak
but more freak in theory than practice because he doesn't really have game
he'll try his damndest to flirt but once reciprocated he's a bumbling fool
still tries to act like he knows what he's doing though
when he's not high he's kind of an emotional guy? like he gets riled up really easily
but still he's the top tier ragebaiter, sometimes without even trying
so while he's indifferent to the creeps, the creeps just almost immediately get annoyed by his presence 💔
he deserves it tho lowkey
and i will say this again, white as all hell
both in skin and in culture
give that white boy some buldak carbonara and you'll watch slowly as it turns redder from how more blood-tears seem to fall from his eyes and into the damn food
MASKY —
🤤
dad bod, off the rip, tearing off the bandaid
looks kind of soft (as in, not necessarily covered in defined muscles) but he is a tank
ask him to flex his arms and you can just see the power in those biceps bro idk what to tell you
southern twangs for both him and Brian
his voice is gruffer but not necessarily deeper than Brian's
also blud is like 5'9
after being more involved with the Slenderman, his state has remained stagnant
sort of limbo
his memory is no longer actively deteriorating, but the damage done prior has left it's mark
so he still has a hard time remembering sometimes
he still gets those coughing fits when he's Tim, sometimes when he's Masky but not quite as much
speaking of, Masky is much more of a jerk than Tim
he likes to think he's the rage baiter, when in actuality it's the opposite
and more often than not, the team will have to calm him down
it's been long enough that they've figured out a system for that (mostly Hoodie being the one that deals with his aggression)
but there's been times where it has almost jepoardized a mission
Masky is also more chatty ? But that's just to taunt when he's in a certain mood
if not, he expects everyone to just efficiently do their task
the mentality of "i can fuck around, but you can't"
mostly directed towards Toby because he's the younger of the three of them
very rarely is his anger directed towards Hoodie but there have been instances
and he also knows sign language for Hoodie :)
Tim is usually a little less irritable
or at the very least, doesn't lash out like Masky
he sticks to himself mostly, especially when in the manor
he shares a room with Brian, despite not really needing to as there's more than enough space
but the fact that Brian is there calms him down just a tad
still paranoid but not quite sure of what
like he's already in this nightmare
what else can reach him?
maybe that freaky ghost dude
often goes on late night drives
either alone or with Brian
usually alone as Brian is up to something else
despite them being anchors for one another they also need to figure out a balance
another way he copes is, obviously, smoking a pack a day
the smoker's voice is there but not overpowering, if that makes sense
maybe those coughing fits are just phlegm from chainsmoking
Tim by himself is actually just… a normal mf guy
he used to frequent music festivals, maybe even had dreams of something involving music
very unique voice that matches the music he likes playing (country, blues, etc.)
doesn't really like singing in front of people though
he knows he's not the best singer around and gets embarassed
clean guy !!!
cleans up after himself !!!
nags Brian to do the same… especially since they share the damn space
"it'll find it's way."
"… yeah up your ass if you don't pick up that damn sock."
Tim doesn't like thnking about what he does on missions
doesn't want to try to remember if he can recall the person's face just as he's about to shoot a bullet through their skull
he tries not to
but also he's realized, that some sick part of him as grown used to it
and feels a sense of relief when he gets the deed done, like the satisfaction one gets after leaving a rage room
he supposes that he can't be too sad about that though
apathy is the one thing keeping him sane, really
HOODIE —
close to a second favourite for me heh 😼
lither body, more defined muscles throughout
maybe like? 6'1 ?
he's more of like the all-rounder of the group
but Hoodie doesn't talk very much, and prefers to communicate with others through hand gestures or sign language
only person he uses his voice with is Masky and maybe Toby
voice is deeper but smoother than Tim's
sometimes joins him for a smoking sesh but not much…
Hoodie is very stoic and just get to the point and finish the job
sort of
he has a playful side of him that comes out Only when he deems things "interesting"
if it's a boring mission and the person is giving the usual responses, he won't hesitate to just cave their skull in as quickly as possible
if thing's turn out to be a little more unexpected, he's having some fun !!!
Hoodie in general doesn't do much though
out of all the proxies, as long as the person doesn't catch his eye, won't really care for them
for long missions, he loves to do the stalking
Brian sort of finds fun in this too
the manipulation and charms are all Brian
from his tooth gap to the boyish cut he has (while still looking very much like a Man y'know) and the way he talks? it's joever bro
Brian finds the chase fun
Tim wishes he could get the job done faster and without any bumps in the road
some people headcanon Brian as a sociopath and I really like the idea
he doesn't understand the full scope of human emotions, especially empathizing with people, but he can grow attached
there has been a couple times that has happened on a mission
and it just resulted in Brian doing some extra work where he actively went out of his way to creep out their victim by leaving little clues and traces behind for them to find
but he somehow always knows what's the limit before he ruins the plans
Brian's strongest bond is probably Tim, and it's reciprocated
he tries to accomodate for Tim, who still struggles with the effects of the Sickness
but as well as the other stresses that came from it
Brian also struggles with similar symptoms but he's a bit more detached than Tim was / is
he sometimes watches the nights for Tim
one sleeps and the other watches, on request of the other
did i say he was charming yet
yeah he's a real charmer 100%
the sweetest compliments, the kindest smile, and always (seemingly) actively listening
getting people to drop their guard around him really isn't all that hard
he gets around more than Tim, definitely
also their permanent residence is in the manor, as proxies, but they aren't often in the manor to begin with
being on missions calls for being in motels, or just a rented RV
between Tim and Brian, Brian is definitely the one to plan things out more
think before acting, as that's how he gets his results
nonetheless, he allows Tim to execute them
being a leader sounds like too much work for Brian
does purposefully leave shit around the room sometimes to piss Tim off :p
I had to split it up because it was getting too long for my liking.. and I wanted something out before Halloween (kind of before Halloween rn I Guess) as I will be busy :'(
hopefully these were fun !!! I really want to write for the creeps again I miss them
this post includes — Toby, Jane, Nina, Clockwork/Natalie, Kate, and Slenderman
last post included — Jeff, Eyeless Jack, BEN DROWNED, Masky/Tim, Hoodie/Brian
i'm a little more unfamiliar with Kate's story, BUT I WILL DO MY VERY BEST !!! what i have of her in my mind just has me drooling all over her so …
ninas is kinda small sorry 😢 i lowkey got burnt out doing hcs like this HELP ME ough the curse of being a uni student
tws!!! same as last time I Think, typical stuff, blood, violence, suggestive but no nsfw, substance (alcohol + drugs) abuse, not too serious? Again, more for myself than anything and i can't treat these guys seriously lul i love them very much though
wc: 3.7k
TICCI TOBY—
one of the more immature creeps amongst them all
he doesn't act like a child per say, but more like he's kind of gullible and has that sense of naïvete to him
either very reactive or tuned out
which makes him very unpredictable
but working with Tim and Brian for so long has them knowing how to step around his outbursts, or even helping him through it
surprisingly, Tim is usually the one who steps up to talk Toby down
Brian only steps in when he's really needed (when Tim's not in his right mind)
but it doesn't work the same, as all three of them know that Brian might seem sincere but his attchment to Toby isn't firm enough to be fully genuine
despite himself, he's damn good at what he does
and he's very much capable for himself for the most part
injuries and all that go under his radar but that's for obvious reasons
if he treats a mission seriously, that guy is coming back with results
and if he doesn't have anything to show? gone for longer than usual? don't worry, he'll be back. As soon as he has something
because of this, he receives most of what little praise the Slenderman gives out
not that it matters to the other two (or three, if you count Kate)
if his work doesn't get acknowledged, he sulks a bit and complains to the other two
if he gets scolded — or rather, punished — it's either a full on crash out or complete silence for the next few days
he likes what he does, as well
some sort of sadomasochist
likes hurting and likes being hurt (just sometimes, for the latter)
when he's in a good mood, he's relatively playful and chipper
usually full of energy
goes bothering people, which the others hate
"Ma — asky, the fridge is emp — puh-ty,"
"We're not heading out into town."
Toby stares and then pivots, turning to look at Brian instead
who holds up a hand, "if mom says no, I can't do anything."
Toby grimaces and scrunches up his face, a crooked grin spreading across his face as he laughs
probably smth smth how ugly of a woman Tim would be (which I DISAGREE. FAT BUTCH TIM 🤤)
that's when Tim knows it's time for another smoke break as Toby just continues to holler and yip, beating the joke dead until he forgets or gets distracted by something else
he usually refers to everyone by their titles
either just to seem "professional" or he isn't a fan of seeming too personal
uses "Tim" and "Brian" freely when he's angry, trying to insult and / piss off
even though Ben thinks he's annoying sometimes, he sometimes goes looking for Toby for entertainment
same goes for Jeff — but it's rare
Ben likes triggering his tics and all that, subtly (or not so subtly) trying to influence him by using Toby as another way to annoy the other creeps
they probably doom scroll together, not going to lie
Toby doesn't own any devices, mostly because he isn't allowed any, so Ben is his way of being connected to the outside world / internet
but it comes back to bite Ben in the ass when Toby bugs him about wanting to go on TikTok
a few times Toby has lodged his hatchets against Ben's door in retaliation
his room is cluttered
not completely dirty but it looks a bit like a hoarder's room
things he's picked up in the woods, trinkets he's found lying about, sometimes even other creeps' possessions
a bit like a dragon protecting his den
if others enter and try to touch the pile of shit in the corner of his room, he's eyeing them with caution
or just flat out tells them to back off
oh !!! also !! learned some very basic wood carving from Tim / Brian
mostly by like
staring at them
he can't do it very well, or it takes him twice as long due to his motor tics, but he's made a few spoons
and a rough looking robin, but you can tell it's a bird at the very least
just a little bit taller than Tim, shorter than Brian (so he's? maybe 5'10 or 5'11)
lanky and less muscle than Brian
has to shave, and tries to usually unless he really can't be assed
btw Tim taught him how to shave
arm muscles are super defined from wielding and hurling hatchets all day like they weight nothing
and German !!
forgot how to speak, but can relatively understand the language
likes being annoying by correcting little words spoken by others like 'wurst' or 'strudel'
falls apart when being treated gently though
it's foreign to him, but he accepts it with open arms
doesn't even really question it
no one is ever capable of getting close enough though, so
not really a weakness but also it sort of is
JANE EVERLASTING—
hates "Jane the Killer"
fuck you doing calling her after the man she despises
even before everything that happened to her, she was no 1 man hater
avoids talking to most of the creeps unless she really needs to
and avoids the mansion as much as possible too
one of the more "normal" creeps
actually lives in town
but still stays inside during the day for the most part
she does walk around with the mask on, and is just simply her "prosthetic" if anyone asks
beneath her mask are the burn marks left from the incident
and because the Slenderman likes being a piece of shit, she isn't exempt from having to do missions with Jeff still
if anything, she feels a notable amount of the work she does has been alongside him
it's never just her and Jeff, thank god, but his presence alone has her distracted
no matter how much she ignores him, the bastard is always hot on her trail
mocking her, insulting her, anything
it usually takes a third party to diffuse the situation
even then, she can hear the way he grumbles and says some bs like "bitch needs to learn some manners."
at that point, either the person looks aside or simply gives Jane the go to sic em
her need to enact revenge is still something that burns in her
she wishes she could just do it
get the job done
but she can't
not when they were all under the same creature
something with powers she couldn't even begin to fathom
fucker would probably come back from the dead if she ever did kill him
the only creeps she doesn't mind being around is Nina, Clockwork, Sally, and Eyeless Jack
Jack is an exception because he actually knows how to shut the fuck up and just do his job
she was iffy about Nina at first, but the more she was around her, the more pity she felt
two lives uprooted by the same man
they had to come together somehow, right?
sort of love hate though with Nina as Nina doesn't think Jeff in an entirely negative light
Jane actively tries to change her mind a lot of the time
Nina just laughs her off usually
it frustrates her, but Jane knows better than to keep pushing
when away from all the creep stuff, she lives a "peaceful" life
a lot of her time spent at home, or out for the night
at a bar, occasionally a club
her favourites are speakeasys
never visits the same place twice in a row, and is always hidden in the shadows
dressed nicely, nothing too elaborate but nothing casual
something that accentuates her features, enticing and enthralling
Jane hardly leaves these establishments alone for the night
there's always a woman clinging to her arm, Jane always waking in someone else's bed
she never brought people back to her own place, in order to protect herself and the person she was spending the night with
she always leaves before the person beside her wakes
and always leaves a note
'Thank you for the lovely night. You've got a cute smile, maybe I'll see you around."
a note left with a black lipstick stain, perfect and classy
while she's one of the more human creeps, she still finds herself slipping
maybe it was from everything she's experienced, but she'd lay beside her love for the night
watching as their chest rose and levelled
the way they breathed, how their throat bobbed when they swallowed, how soft their skin is, how easy it'd been for her to leave scratch marks agains their flesh
how that satiates some sort of desire within her to hurt
to know that she is still in control of her life, and that she's capable of showing others that she is alive
sadistic, but bloodlust was never really her thing
she always has little thoughts whispering in the back of her mind
that the revenge she was never capable of achieving needed to be fulfilled somewhere else
it's not something she's proud of but also not something she wants completely gone
on a lighter note, she helps other creeps gets clothes and other necessities
sometimes
she likes fashion, actually super into it
which also helps her bond with Nina
she likes watching people try on clothes, share her excitement, and if she didn't hate 80% of the creeps she'd probably try having a bit of a maskeshift fashion show
Sally entertains this idea the most, and Jane always gets her the most clothes when she visits
Jane personally dresses more chic / classy, almost business casual a lot of the times
a lot of dresses, moderately accesorized, and somehow always smelling good
unless she was caked in blood and grime but, even then, she doesn't smell as bad as some others
very confident in herself !!
her hair doesn't grow like it should anymore, so she shaves whatever growth there is because she likes how it looks as opposed to random patches of hair
the only thing she hasn't gotten used to is her face, but she isn't necessarily insecure about it a lot
sometimes it's hard to be kind to yourself though so
Jane is African-American with both her parents from Ghana
oh if you couldn't tell
raging lesbian
had boyfriends in the past but genuinely hated them all so much
#1 "I hate my Bf' girl back in middle school
NINA THE KILLER—
doesn't really care for the title
in my eyes, she started off as the "Jeff fangirl" but as she aged, the obsession slowly subsided
being continuously rejected and dismissed by the guy had her looking elsewhere
it also just came with her maturing, realizing the guy was a dick and being obsessed with a guy smelling like hot garbage wasn't really worth her time
still admires some of his work, but it's like… "separating the art from the artist"
and separating herself from him has sort of allowed herself to grow a bit more
Nina sort of views Jane as a role model?
just someone she knows is very capable and put together (as compared to everyone else)
and Jane treats her nice, gets her accessories, so she can't complain much
a very energetic woman !!!
loves, loves, loves everything about the early 2000s and never gets out of her scene "phase"
kind of annoyed that people nowadays are galmorizing that period of time they never personally experienced themselves
but eventually grew out of that and decided, more the merrier !
probably runs a blog or tumblr or… whateva
has a whole collection of different flip phones, ipods, mp3 players, digicams, polaroid cameras but only has One pair of wired headphones
she looves collecting things and actually displays it nicely in her room
her place is actually in the same building as Jane's
they only ever interact though when they go to the manor
scene queen
has gotten noise complaints from her blasting music
oh also ??? surprsingly gets along with Ben due to the fact that she just has so much tech he likes fidgeting with (if she allows it)
that's the only reason he ever talks to her though
he used to avoid her like the plague because she'd ask him about Jeff
but now she's calmed, he doesn't mind talking to her
plus, she's also chronically online and it's like fun talking to her
generally liked by most creeps, I think
or like if not liked, at the very least tolerated
also she's just American !!
would be the type to get into kpop im ngl
it would replace her obsession with Jeff
CLOCKWORK—
i can't help but also make her a raging lesbian
like Maybe she had a thing with Toby
(one sided on Toby's side) and Clockwork played into it for a bit
maybe they fucked maybe they didn't
but after it, she was like haha… yeah I'm good now
bisexual to lesbian pipeline is so real
she acts gruff, is gruff, aside from the occasional softness seeping through
genuinely doesn't care much for whatever organization the Slenderman is trying to maintain
acts out a lot and doesn't necessarily follow orders properly
which means she's been reprimanded and punished more than she can count by the entity
that's initially how she got close with Toby, the guy saw her get her ass handed to her and was like ! stop doing whatever the fuck you're doing girl you're pissing Him off 😕
and that affects everyone yk
her and Toby are still… on friendly terms I Think
Toby occasionally says things that clearly shows he wouldn't mind getting with her, but she either ignores it or laughs and tells him to Fuck Off
i'd like to think she's very handy !
like toolbox ready, mechanic, can fix a car ready
like Jack, she lives in a shed that's like a bit away from the manor
has a whole ass car though
it's a beat up Toyota that is on its last legs but it does it's job
she wants a truck one day but she knows she won't ever have that money so…
maybe she'll get one some other way
also because of her handiness people do just come up to her and is like… please fix my thing
Tim and Brian have gone up to her and asked her to fix their car so many times she just tells them to steal a new one every time they need a car for something instead
she's had to fix an RV for them before and it made her want to kill herself
a pretty mellow person unles you press on her nerves
when she gets angry, she gets angry
it's a build up of emotions, not explosive but not silent
the warnings are there but she won't spell them out for you
she uses her fists to fight a lot, and will start throwing punches when someone's pissed her off enough
besides fixing things up on her free time, she enjoys hunting
like, actually hunting
it gave her an excuse to learn how to use a bow and arrow
but generally she prefers usiing a crossbow
the heaviness of it feels better in her hands
and aiming it is just way easier for her
though her aim will always be a bit off due to the disadvantage she has for not having one of her eyes
her depth perception is bad enough that sometimes she bumps into things, and it's genuinely one of the most embarassing things ever
she expects people to ignore it just as she does
if they make a comment, she's going to throw a fit
also likes Jane lowkey 😋
in the way she wouldn't mind spending a night or two with her
relationships are weird with creeps, they tend not to date each other
but fucking and sucking are on the table who gaf
it's just Jane is always so hard to read she has no idea of she has a chance with her (she does)
with the clock in her eye, she isn't turned off from giving herself more body mods
she has a split tongue !!!
also done by herself
under the watch of Jack, who surprsingly allowed her to just Do It in his surgical room back in the mansion
he thought it curious, he supposed
"you'll like,"
"like?"
"not eat me if I bleed out."
"hmm."
basically how that interaction went between them
and still she did it
Clockwork to me gives slavic girl vibes
maybe Croatian?
she doesn't have many ties to it though, besides the food that she occasionally craves from time to time
also !!! kind of tall?
she's like 5'10
thin but athletic
KATE THE CHASER—
need her
the most inhuman out of all the Proxies
many people think that Toby's the wildcard, in reality it'd probably be her
she makes herself the least known out of all four of them, and by the time the victim realizes that something might be wrong she'll already have her claws on them
beady eyes created by the mask staring down at them as spit drips down onto their face
her strange mouth open
waiting
before she finally latches her maw onto them
a little bit like ? the Proxy's dog?
she's the most proficient at hunting out of all of them
she's taller than all three of them, and is just as strong if not stronger than them
she doesn't work with the other three quite as much because of this
the only reason she'd be assigned to work with them is if it's more than just a three man job
missions are never usually against other supernatural beings, but if it was, Kate would be on the list to go work
thing is, she probably smells human to other entities
so imagine their shock when this big ass woman with claws comes running out the shadows
speaking of claws, her arms gradients from a pale colour to that inky black that's seen on her hands
also her spit is the same colour
and just a bit thicker than normal
gross but also Hello Sailor…
outside of being the prized hunter, she doesn't really… do much?
she's still sentient, and thinks like a human
so she does enjoy down time
but a lot of that down time is spent… hunting… again
so she joins Clockwork or even Tim sometimes for seasonal hunting !!! Yay !!
it's lowkey an odd trio but… it somehow works
none of them want to kill one another, so
"Give."
a clawed finger points to the cigarette pack in Tim's hand, a cig loosely hanging out of his mouth
he just chuckles at her
"sure." he knows damn well Kate doesn't smoke
but when two out of the three are doing it, might as well try it right?
he hands one to Kate, and Clockwork watches silently
her arms crossed, but the edge of her mouth is already twitching in amusement
he lights her up, Kate staring with a sorts of hesitation before she brings it to her lips
deep breath in — and she's already coughing and sputtering
the smoke coming out in bursts and disperses quickly before she could even properly inhale it
Clockwork's laughing, hand on her knee as Tim has turned his face away
but his shoulders shaking speaks louder than words
"Stupid."
Kate rasps out, flicking the lit cigarette away
maybe a little too hard as it lands on Clockwork's hood
you know, the one with fur lining it
needless to say, they didn't hang out for the next little bit
anyways !!
she doesn't indulge much, but is similar to Jack where there's like
a whole heat cycle thing she's got going on
don't think I mentioned it last post but yeah Jack has that too
Kate refuses to be near anyone let alone any other creeps during this period
would genuinely rather die than let a creep know she goes through this thing
not even Jack knows
doesn't really have a place to live?
just leaves and stays in the manor sometimes
mostly to clean up and report back to Him
before leaving and not reappearing again until needed
i think she's white
like just american
might change that but who knows…
THE SLENDERMAN—
everybody hates His ass except for maybe Toby
if not hate, at least dislike
i think of the Slenderman as not one whole being
but perhaps a hivemind of some sorts?
to tie in with Slenderverse and Operators and all that shiz
think of Him as like a manager for Walmart, like He isn't Walmart but He keeps these guys in check
that's also how He stays omniscient, from other beings like Him being everywhere and sharing one mind where all the info is firing around
He does have some personality
i don't think He's entirely detached from all the creeps, as I do see Him caring for someone like Sally
but then again a lot of it stems from needing to maintain order
He does punish those who don't perform well or refuse to do something
no matter what, it's always something no one can get used to
He can basically prescribe the Sickness to anyone He wants, and imagine those period simulators where He's just able to crank it up or crank it up it down whenever He wants
for example, He keeps Tim and Brian under it even as proxies just to keep them in check
don't think He derives pleasure or pain from hurting people
maybe mildly amused
that's it
a freak of nature…
maybe might make Him more fun someday but as of now that's sort of how i think of it
Unsurprisingly, a night out between House and Wilson doesn’t end up uneventful. Tensions were strung in a-- stranger way, now with Amber in the picture. One of House's grand schemes goes sideways when the person he provokes ends up punching him right in the face. In an attempt to get Wilson in trouble (due to the whole curfew agreement), House got ahead of himself and now Wilson dumps him onto someone else rather than face the wrath of his girlfriend.
And of course, no one’s ever happy to see House on their doorstep.
a/n; sorta just ! Self-indulgent!! This fic leans towards sub bottom house roles, no sex just sloppily making out. Written in 3rd person, they/them for reader! Honestly not too proud of this, but I wanted to get this out 😓
tws!! Suggestive, minor blood play (like incredibly minor), and house bein house — 4.5k words
The plan had been going smoothly. Drinks were going down quickly for Wilson, lord only knows how stressed he had been to be downing alcohol like it was water, and thankfully for House he recalled scoring over God a couple years ago. Meaning he knew what had been haunting Wilson's always-ready-to-please mind.
The connection that Amber had been so similar to House had already been scrounged up, and even House would be lying if that made him think just a little too. Oh, nothing crazy maybe just the fact that if he'd been a woman, Wilson might have been all over him. Her?
The details didn't matter.
What did matter though, was his loss of control over the situation. House didn't know what he had been thinking. No one had been paying them much attention, and his goal was to just get Wilson drunk. Only Wilson. He supposed that he thought he needed to convince his friend to keep drinking? Maybe that's why House started drinking too. And maybe that's why he started picking fights with strangers.
It started off as passing remarks he made to Wilson, the infamous smug smirk that showed how he thought himself omniscient in a sense. That he was so sure he could read people like a book. To a certain degree, that was true. How else was he capable of coming up with schemes that would puppet the parties involved for his own benefit?
Eventually though, passing remarks would eventually turn into what seemed like heckling. No wonder he ended up getting socked right square in the face by a patron. House was always self-sabotaging, but sabotaging his own plans to sabotage Wilson's relationship with Amber? Now that was a little ridiculous.
Didn't change the fact that it happened though.
"Oh-- come on House, I can't bring you back to my place and you know it." Wilson's voice had some strain in it, one of his arms hooked around his friend's (questionable title given to the likes of House) waist as he led him to his car. "Especially not since you started this... this meaningless war." He muttered, the hesitance in his voice to say meaningless suggested that maybe he didn't think it was entirely meaningless. Perhaps a hint to the fact that he did find amusement in it. Hell, maybe even enjoyed it for a bit.
House was disoriented. Not by liquor, but by the fact that he had blood gushing out of his nose and perhaps even a bit of a broken nose at that. "She's got you on a leash, Wilson." He swallowed, wetting his dried mouth. "If I say I'm sorry for leaving you at the pound and give you a treat, will you come running back to me?" He spoke with a certain monotonous that always indicated that he was just being a dick. Everyone's heard it enough to recognize it.
On the other hand Wilson decided to ignore that remark and start tapping away on his phone. Scrolling through contacts in an attempt to make some sort of solution for this mess. “I’m handing you off to someone else House. Whether you like it or not—” he swung open the car door to the passenger seat, muttering a few ‘careful’s as he lowered the man into the seat. Impaired judgement kept him from stopping the bloody nose first, and instead opting to do it when he got into the driver’s seat first.
”Are you dialling Thirteen?” House tilted his head forwards, just letting his head hang before Wilson shoved a bundle of tissues against his face. In turn he winced and complained ‘oww!’ dramatically. “Better be Thirteen.” His voice all muffled by the tissues.
Little did he know, it was the nurse that worked under a couple of his former ducklings.
House usually didn’t care for the other staff around the hospital, but he cared when he thought he could squeeze out some information out of some. That’s what he’d done to them. But not only did they refuse to sell out their fellow coworkers, they had also exacted revenge on him not too long ago. They didn’t necessarily win but they also didn’t lose.
What they were capable of doing, was bruising his ego.
After that, the two just kept interacting. The rivalry the two shared was almost akin to a friendship, but neither of them would admit to such a thing. After all, they hated each other’s guts.
There was a mutual respect there though, hidden somewhere. Wilson liked to think that at least. He would mention it or make a comment about it to House but of course he was always met with a response like—
“Tomato, To-mah-to. Only respect they ever receive from me is purely superficial. Happy to see them go, even happier when they turn around and I get to watch them leave.”
Wilson had rolled his eyes then, taking it as another one of those jerky comments House made to be a dick for the fun of it. The longer he had let it marinate though, and the tone shift at the time, perhaps it had an underlying meaning to it. Or he could just be giving him the benefit of the doubt. Again.
The car engine roared to life when Wilson inserted his car key, his other hand pressing his phone to his ear as he gave his friend one singular glance to make sure he wasn’t doing something stupid. He wasn’t. Just popping some more pills.
”Wilson it’s—” a voice picked up. They paused, as if looking off to the side.
”It’s 10 pm. This is well after office hours.” They spoke with a certain exhaustion in their tone. Expected, to be fair. They were all employees of a hospital, hard to keep up a good amount of energy when you’re running around the place all the time. Especially a nurse.
”Listen, I know this is a big request but,” he put his hand on the steering wheel, grunting when House would knock the butt of his cane against his forearm, “House— you’re going to cause us to crash!”
“House? He’s with you?” They sounded surprised at first before it all melted away, “Oh, who am I kidding, of course he’s with you.” The tone of their voice simply went from quizzical to bemused really quick. “I’m not doing anything for that bastard— this is too big a favour to ask of me Wilson.” Their indignation to aiding him in whatever he was about to ask didn’t keep Wilson from having his foot on the gas pedal though. He was convinced he was going to have them agreeing by the time they get there. If they don’t agree well… too bad they were going to show up to their house anyways.
As the conversation continued out on the phone, it didn’t take long for House himself to realize who had been called to their rescue. It made him scoff in amusement, “oh yeah smart move Wilson. Get stick-up-their-ass to keep me from bleeding out at their place that’ll work out!” He raised his voice loud enough that he knew he’d be audible through the phone.
Wilson furrowed his brows, his mouth agape for a second as he struggled to formulate a sentence but they cut him off before he could.
”Bleeding out? What the hell were you guys doing?” The concern was real but they eventually sputtered and tried to backpedal, “you know we’re not close enough for me to be covering whatever illegal activities you guys are doing!” Which was reasonable reaction, honestly.
“No— no— nothing illegal!” Wilson opposed, having to fight the urge to just knock his head against his steering wheel. God, it was like having two children in each ear yelling at him. House was talking about something but so were they. It just became a garbled mess. Not to mention the fact that he was still driving.
”I warned you. We’re on our way.” In the end, Wilson stood his ground. Pocketing his phone, he would keep his eyes straightforward on the road.
__________________________________________
“You’re lucky to have a friend like Wilson.” They murmured, lips pulled taut as they dabbed a cotton swab around the other’s nasal area. It was reddened with blood, bits of it dark from it already coagulating and drying out. House remained still, for the most part. Pale blue eyes staring right at them, not necessarily happy about this situation either. He wasn’t even tipsy anymore, just sober and in pain.
To be fair though, that was kind of regular day to day for him.
House’s eyes looked down briefly, flexing his fingers. “Yeah? Well friends like Wilson end up dumping you to get butchered up on a chopping block.” Then he wiggled, “or I suppose on a kitchen counter.” Not even an amused noise from them. Just the knitting of brows as they were wary of his squirming to make his point.
They were firm with him, as many would have to be with House. A hand holding his face steady, thumb and index holding his chin so they could tilt his head if needed. House was surprisingly cooperative.
”Well good for you,” they paused their actions, giving him an obvious look over, “nobody actually likes old meat. Too tough, too chewy.” They scoffed, before going back to dabbing the bloody areas of his face. Unfortunately, he’d also gotten a busted lip. It wasn’t drastic but it was most definitely going to take more than just a couple weeks to fully recover from it.
House had his neck craned up, brows furrowed a little as he stared up at the ceiling. His eyes would shift downwards, looking to his begrudging caretaker. They had their lips pursed, their eyes a bit sunken from a long day.
He took the time to look at them though. Oversized band shirt over a pair of shorts. If he craned his head to the side just a bit, he could see that their shirt had hiked up just a little. Resting right above the small of their back, making it so that the front draped down but their ass visible.
His obnoxious ogling was cut short when he felt a dull pain, hissing as he felt just a little too much pressure being applied on his wound.
“I’m doing this for free already. If you want more, you’re gonna have to pay.” They muttered, voice thick with sarcasm.
House let sucked in a breath, “is this about the hookers? Just because I support sex work doesn’t mean I’ll let you drain me dry of my money! You’re not even a hooker.” He winced again, but not because they pressed too hard again. It was more a culmination of his leg and the busted up face situation.
For a brief moment, their eyes softened. They paused for a moment, pulling away and putting down the cotton pad they had held in their hand.
”Your Vicodin?” They questioned, as if expecting him to already be reaching for any sort of pill bottle. House gave a frown, not even really trying to feel himself to find said pill bottle.
He clicked his tongue, “must have dropped it back at the bar. Maybe Prince Charming will find it and return it to me and we’ll live happily ever after.” Actually, he was pretty sure if he ever came face to face with the guy again, he was going to end up with a black eye next.
They rolled their eyes. “I’ll get you something. Hold this.” They then passes him a bag of frozen… strawberries. Huh. Then they left the room, going to fetch something.
”Don’t even bother,” he held the frozen strawberries, and instead of using it as intended he opens the bag and pops one in his mouth, “it’s not going to even work.” His face contorted when the frozen fruit touched his tongue.
He supposed that was effective too. Brainfreeze. Maybe once or twice.
”I’ll just go on and skedaddle as soon as I can. Say, where are your car keys? A question of curiosity.” He called out, already turning his head to look about. When they popped their head back into the room they held what seemed to be clothes and a bottle of pills.
”You’re not getting my keys House.” They huffed, before walking back to him. The grown man sitting on their kitchen island with his legs dangling off the side, shirt bloodied and smelling of a rank bar.
This exchange caused him to raise a brow.
Not necessarily because they wouldn’t give him their car keys. But the fact that they held a change of clothes for him. Either they were just feeling generous, pitied him, or… they had actually planned for him to stay the night.
”Are you trying to get into my pants? You know, there’s different ways to do that—”
”Yes I want to have sex with you.”
The two stared at each other. His mouth agape as if he was going to speak, but they cut him off.
”No, House,” they gave an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of their nose. “I’m not trying to have sex with you.” They dropped the clothes right next to him, “you just smell like dog food and shit.”
Then they showed him the bottle they brought with them.
”Ibuprofen? That shit doesn’t do anything!” House reached out for it, though his tone spoke of a child who had maybe received fish sticks instead of his preferred mozzarella sticks.
At his complaint, they clenched their jaw. “Either take some or I’m going to shove them down your throat.” That made him give a faux look of offence, “and you work at the hospital! I’m surprised Cuddy hasn’t canned you yet.” Though the look they gave him made him finally unscrew the cap.
They took a moment to watch him take a couple, before walking aside. “Go take that shower. I’m not taking you anywhere, but honestly,” they turned to give him a look, “I wouldn’t stop you from wandering out.”
House recognized that their first instinct might have actually been to care. Hence the actual attempt at cleaning up his mess. Even giving him clothes and letting him take a shower. But he also knew that their history wouldn’t allow them to just will themselves to be happy around his presence.
That’s why, as a fuck you towards them and Wilson, he was going to stay. Prove Wilson wrong by pissing them off they just have to go yell at Wilson tomorrow morning.
__________________________________________
The bright light of the TV flickered, colours danced along the surface of his gruff face as he sat on the couch. He made himself comfortable in their home, meaning he made a mess of the living room. It was almost midnight now. They told him off earlier, but after him not budging the slightest, they just slinked away into their room.
He knew they were still awake though.
It was that stupid pirate cartoon. Only played at night! When else was he supposed to watch it?
“House.”
He looked over, a clueless expression on his face as he then looked to his wristwatch, “is it early morning already? Wait, nope. Go back to sleep.” He made a dismissive gesture with his hand, as if shoo’ing them away. From their own living room.
The look on their face wasn’t even exasperation or frustration. They just looked done. They walked over, stepping in front of the television screen with their arms crossed. “Turn it off, you need rest.”
He tried to look around them at first, but it was all but futile! He groaned, “get out of the way. You really going to stand there the entire time?” The irritation in his voice didn’t necessarily match the glint in his eye. Amusement, perhaps even a hint of a challenge in them.
They squinted their eyes at him.
It was always that. The look in his eyes that presented a challenge that was supposed to push people away. Yet for people as stupid as those who willingly stuck around House, it did the opposite. Before their own experiences, they always thought it strange for Wilson or hell, even Cuddy to entertain him. Because for a lack of a better word, that was exactly what they do.
Now that they’ve been in a similar position, they understand why.
“Does it turn you on to be such a dick? Surely you’re getting some sort of sick gratification from what you do.” They sneered, approaching him and his smug son of a bitch face. He stared, like he always did, before turning his head and sticking out his lip a little ‘in thought’.
Then he gave a shake of his head, his expression dumb as he said, “my body says no but my mouth says yes.” Then taking a moment before furrowing his brow, “actually, pretty sure I mixed that up.” Just another one of his snarky remarks that made the recipient’s anger burn hotter. It wasn’t even good, the things he said sometimes. Not objectively.
Sometimes they were so stupid that it provided the same effect. The same results. And that was all House ever wanted— results.
Before they could get in another word though, House graciously interrupted them. “I’m not kidding. Step away.” He nudged his hand again, trying to wave them aside. His other? Rested on his thigh. Running along the problem site, up and down as if trying to soothe. Not that it ever worked.
“You didn’t take the ibuprofen.”
That seemed to strike a nerve. “No— I did. Would my incompetent nurse like to see me try again? It’ll only keep proving that I’m right.” He inhaled sharply, wincing. “It. Doesn’t. Work.”
At that, they finally took one step to the side. Allowing for the light of the TV to light him up again. He was sweating, just a little bit, on his head. If he was in so much pain wouldn’t he get up and go? Or was there something else he was trying to prove? Surely he didn’t hate them enough to endure his own pain to inflict pain upon them. Then again, that would be a House thing to do.
Silently, they sat beside him.
House scrunched up his nose, turning his head as he shifted, leaning further back against the plush of the couch. "That’s it?” He let out a shallow breath, turning ever-so-briefly to look at them. They didn’t return the gesture, just staring straight forward.
”That’s it.”
There was a quiet lull between the two, only the over exaggerated voices of the pirate and the princess audible in their space. Quiet wasn’t really House’s thing, though. He turned to them again, arm raised to rest against the back of the couch, “you’re just giving up? Just like that?”
Giving up?
They snorted. “I’m not giving up anything. You were the one with expectations.” Then they finally turned to meet his eyes, “I’m not in the mood for games, House. If you aren’t going to listen, then you aren’t going to listen.”
For some reason, he looked confused. “You don’t just give up. It’s the one thing that actually makes you interesting.” He spoke as if he was the one getting offended. Even if he wasn’t planning on it now, they couldn’t help but feel some anger bubbling up again. What did he want?
”Then you should fucking leave, shouldn’t you, Greg?” They hissed under their breath, trying to turn back to the meaningless cartoon.
Out of all the petty things they’ve argued about, this felt the most genuine. Over an… animated cartoon?
”No. I shouldn’t. You’re supposed to— to…” he paused, biting his tongue. As if the Gregory House was hesitating. When there was virtually no reaction from his uncharacteristic doubt, he grunted. “You’re supposed to fight back. Keep me here.”
A look of surprise crept up to their face. “What?” They blurted out, turning back around to see the man with his head down, eyes flickering up to get one glance at their face. To see what reaction he had received. There were so many things that could be said. So many things they probably should have said. One of them being ‘get out’ which so gingerly danced upon the tip of their tongue.
His head swayed to the side, mouth opening once but then pressed together in a thin line.
This was probably the withdrawals talking. The pain talking. It wasn’t anything he could really stop from spilling out, either way. “Come on. You’re not stupid now, too.” He clenched his fist, then unclenched, nervously fidgeting. “You might be boring but you’re not an idiot.”
”Stop speaking in fucking riddles and spit it out.”
House scoffed, maybe out of amusement. He made eye contact again and straightened out his back just a little. “You hate me. I like pissing you off.” They raised an eyebrow at this, opening their mouth to speak but House shut them up by just putting his whole hand over their mouth.
”Shut up. I know, stating the obvious.” He mumbled, watching them carefully before slowly lowering his hand again once he deemed that it was ‘safe’. “But you haven’t made any real effort into pushing me out. And I…” he furrowed his brows, pinching the bridge of his nose.
”I don’t know.” It all came to an abrupt end. House looked at them as if he expected them to understand what he was saying. What all this stumbling over words meant. There was a certain look in his eyes though, one that had replaced his smug piece-of-shit look from before. The one they were used to.
Too many silences. There’d been too many between them in such a short period of time. But whose fault was that, huh?
”You’re saying… that I… need you? Or what? That I like you?” Shock was still riddled all over their face— a mixture of shock and anger that is. Every time they calmed down he always managed to rile them up again. That has got to be a skill.
A sort of relief seemed to wash over him as he leaned back again. He made a gesture with his hand, giving them another look. The ever familiar House stare.
He was still playing a game. Whether or not his intentions were to simply screw around with them no longer mattered. Because even if he was being genuine the bastard didn’t know how to express himself without hopping through loops. His reaction to them finishing his thought spoke louder than any sort of response he could have followed up with. Even if they said that it was completely untrue it was too late, he made up his mind.
His reaction also meant that the thought of them needing him wasn’t a thought he disproved of.
They relaxed, eyes downcast for a second before they met his eyes again, “you’re a piece of shit.” They muttered, eyes then shifting to his hand that was closest to them. His other was still on his thigh. It had been the entire time. Right now though, it slowed down its ministrations. His attention was on them.
”I should be proving you wrong.” They were slow, grazing their hand over his before interlocking their fingers with his. Warm. Stiff but not dismissive of the touch.
”But you’d see through me, right? Because you always do. You know so much.” He didn’t lean in, but they did. It was like the air had gone still, nothing held either of them back. Not sure House wanted to be held back in any way. Especially considering the way he looked to their lips, ever slightly parted for him.
He was quiet. Waiting. Wasn’t this what he expected? Or— something adjacent?
They tilted their head, lightly lifting themselves off the couch to reach him, leaning over him just a little. “You’re not stopping me.” They mumbled, taking a brief pause. Their eyes stared at his face, appraising him. What did he look like? Hazy. Supposedly, they should back off now.
They got their answer. Didn’t they?
“You’re such a piece of shit.” They breathed out before kissing him. When did the mood change? Perhaps the very moment they decided to entertain his childish game of feelings.
House didn’t waste any time to reciprocate. His hand moved off his thigh, hiking around their waist and pulling them close, so they didn’t have to hover as much. Mouths moving in tandem, both of them warming up as hands travelled up and down and groped. He tried to advance, but they pushed back.
”Don’t you even think it House.” They whispered against his lips, one of their hands on his other thigh and another against his chest. Kissing him again, he chased after them as they pulled back again to give him a smug smile, “under my roof, my rules.”
”Taking my credit? For this? Didn’t think you a thief.” He spoke, but his eyes were trained back on their lips.
“You think I want the credit for initiating?” They muttered, their hand trailing up from his chest to his face. “No. I want the credit for this.” They leaned back down, inching their bodies closer as they kissed again. As feverish as they were, the heat of the moment wasn’t enough to cover the sudden sharp pain he felt on his lip.
His shoulders tensed, what was akin to a whimper slipping past his lips. His eyes fluttered open, and he saw them above him. A gleaming of something besides saliva on her own lips.
House’s hand goes up, pressing it gently against his lip, “you bit me.” There was blood, not too much, but enough. It was the busted lip they’d nurtured, now it was bleeding again. Yet he didn’t find it at all insulting. Instead, he almost looked pleasantly surprised.
”Want me to kiss it all better?” They mused, chest heaving still, and giving him time to either accept or decline. Maybe they should have asked first—
“You’d be sleeping on the couch if you didn’t.” He hardly finished his sentence before he reached for them again, the two clawing at each other desperately as saliva and blood was smeared against their faces. They were kind enough to not do much more to fuck up his lip more, instead going to plant kisses against the side of his neck and down to his chest.
A few red imprints left in their wake, which looked like red lipstick at the time but would most certainly just look like dried blood in the morning. And most certainly not look like kisses.
The hickeys though— that was most certainly going to be a conversation topic between House and Wilson in the morning.
”Admit it House,” they murmured against his skin, their hands quickly working to unbutton his shirt, “you’re the one who needs me.” They kissed and gently nipped at his skin, their hands moving to his belt when his upper body was exposed for them.
He tilted his head back, hissing out a breath as he tried to muster up some words without giving them too much gratification. Looking back, he eyed their close proximity to where he needed them most. “Says the one with their hands practically down my pants.”
“Fine. I’ll take them out.”
“Don’t you dare.”
Guess they were both going to be sleeping on the couch that night.
Maybe in some other lifetime romanticism wasn’t lost to House. That he had grown into a man capable of giving clear-cut affections— and capable of receiving it as well. The first ever puzzle he never wanted to solve, and it was of his heart. You, on the other hand, couldn’t give a damn about it all. You tied yourself to him after all.
In your lap, maybe that fact of House’s could be forgotten. For an hour or two.
a/n: i’ve never written for house, or house md at all. Currently in s4, and I’m just so attached to this crowd of misfits. I’m sorry if he ends up ooc— I just wanted to write something as close to fluff as I can with house LMAO 😭
tws; nothing you wouldn’t find in the show — 1.08k words
“What, are we playing mommy and her sexually frustrated boytoy? I don’t recall putting this into the search bar.”
“I don’t think you’re young and spry enough to be playing the pool boy in this scenario. Take as much offence as you’d want to that shocking revelation.”
Despite the very particular banter, nothing nefarious was happening in this scene. It was quite normal actually. In the tidiness of his apartment the two steeped in each other’s presence. Steeped may have been a strange word for it, but it fit the two. House was chatty like always, but even now and then he had grown quiet. Either getting caught by a specific feature of his partner (still thick on his tongue, not something he ever says really) or deep in his own thoughts.
What prompted him to make the off handed remark? Some might ask, especially when they were having such a peaceful moment!
The obvious answer would be because he’s House. What else was he supposed to do? The not-so-obvious answer was the strange feeling in his chest, as his head lay against the thighs of the person he oh-so cautiously let pull him down to such a position. If he turned his head sideways, you’d most certainly feel the prick of his unkempt beard.
He flexes his fingers, arms sort of kept… limp. Close to his chest. The pale blue of his eyes looking up to the other, brow wrinkled into a furrow as he felt awkward. He only allowed himself to be so hesitant for a second more before he went slack jawed and widened his eyes— a mockery of coming to another ‘revelation’.
“Oh! Pray tell me then, what are we?” Spoken like a young teenager picking out lines from a rom-com they watched the day before to aid them in romantic endeavours. His arms even moving just the slightest to resemble a ‘gosh darn it!’ kind of movement. That garnered an amused noise out of you, your hand very gently resting atop his mess of hair.
“Not we, you. What you are, is a man who can’t even sit still and let me dote on you. So I resorted to,” your free hand gestured to him. Legs stretched and resting on the arm rest of his couch, his head comfortably in your lap, “this.”
Then it was House’s turn to give a little snort.
“What you’ve resorted to is crippling a cripple. Can’t move! Should I go dial 911? Or are you going to kick my legs from behind just as I reach my phone?” This time, there wasn’t any sort of sound akin to laughter. Instead, you gave the hairs atop his head a bit of a tug. A warning.
A grunt left him, his eye wincing a little from the sensation but his wit outran any sort of complaint, “Pineapple! Oh— right we aren’t doing anything like that.” He still shot you a half-hearted look. All the playing around didn’t get him anything but a gentle expression though, a soft look in your eye that said that you would put up with him more than he could ever dream of.
A look he’d seen, but never truly appreciated. He wasn’t quite sure if he did so, even now.
“I would tell you to stop being stupid, but I know I could never stop that.”
“Wow, thanks.”
The way you leaned down to give press a kiss atop his forehead spoke to the fact that you never meant any malice or exasperation in their words. Sure, there was bound to be exhaustion, everyone had breaking points. You were always so lenient with him. Even if you wouldn’t admit that yourself.
Suppose in a way, they understood each other like that.
House didn’t react much to the kiss. You gave a lot of those, so. He didn’t say anything though, so that was either a good indication or a bad indication. 50/50, who knows maybe you should flip a coin.
“Good day at the hospital?” You mumbled, slowly twirling the short strands on his head, coiling them around your fingers. House’s face visibly relaxed, only flexing and moving as he responded. “Oh, yeah, like Santa’s little workshop there. Bundle of joy, fun bright lights.” He muttered, eyes closing for a moment.
Everyone knew that his days were full of pain. He made sure everyone knew, actually. Always made sure that everyone had to be dragged down with him. With you though, he toned it down. Just a little bit.
Your hand caressed the side of his face, gliding down the rough surface and down his scraggly beard. Mindless shapes formed along his skin, his eyes trained on your face. Whether your face would contort the longer you looked at him. As if waiting for you to have a revelation of your own— that he wasn’t who you wanted to spend your time with. That’d you’d wake up soon. Wake up from the dream you seemed so content with, him in your lap and the carefulness of your gestures.
“Something on my face?” Your hand trailed back up to his cheekbone, before pinching the skin there. A smile on your face, for him. For a moment, he stayed silent. Lips that were once parted were now pursed into a tight line, furrow of his brows suggested that he was thinking again.
The longer you waited though, the lighter your touch became. As if you were drawing back. An end to a gentle moment.
“No,” his hands shot up, taking yours in his own. His eyes firm, before they would soften and close as he brought your hands to his face. “Keep it this way a little longer.” For once, not a quip. A moment of genuine love, one that came out of him thinking this was all but fleeting.
In reality, you hardly moved at all.
You were just going to shift, hopefully making him more comfortable if he had felt the position a little awkward. Instead he cradled your hands as if they were the one thing keeping him off his pills. Even just for a short amount of time. Your shoulders went lax, tilting your head as you gave a faint smile. “Okay.” Was all you said.
“I’d rather have you touch me than the old reliables here,” one of his hands let go, giving a bit of a jazzy shake as if to emphasize, “god knows I’ve touched myself enough. Your hands are softer.” You snorted.
Chishiya always gave you little DIY trinkets, though you were perplexed, you accepted them. Cherished them. Today, you seemed upset. It also happened that today, he finally wanted to tell you how he felt. How he could feel a storm brewing amongst this false paradise that was The Beach, and how he wanted to tell you before he could lose you to this place and its madness. Tell you that he, Chishiya Shuntaro, loved you with all his being.
a/n; no warnings really needed! Some fluff (chishiya’s a real lover boy in this one), awkward chishiya cause that man has no rizz you cant tell me otherwise,,, oh n’ niragi’s mentioned a little, a lil cheesy but bare w me 💔
The first time he gifted you something, it was just about a month into knowing Chishiya. He hadn’t known it then, but about then was where the sparks of a flame were being slowly being created. A flame that he couldn’t put out, as much as he tried to force it down his stomach.
As much as he tried to smother it with the lid of reality— that this utopia they lived in was nothing but a farce.
All of the Beach’s residents never seemed to realize it, well except for a handful. Most were the executives though, or people Chishiya spoke to directly. Like Kuina. But you, you were one of the exceptions. That’s what he found refreshing about you, someone who didn’t run from reality— as crude as it was. That was what he liked about you.
It was why he liked you.
The first thing he’d given to you was a shiv, a crudely crafted blade that had its own little sheath he, too, created. His background gave him steady hands, it was no hassle to sew together some scrap pieces of leather together to create a hold for the pocket-sized weapon. Sure it wasn’t the best weapon in terms of effectiveness, but he had hoped that someday it would come in handy.
To say that he had a part in your survival, it gave him a sense of security and comfortability. Along with a smidgen of pride.
The idea to give you a shiv had popped into his head when he saw the way Niragi looked at you. He’d just been strolling by, but he saw the way his brow raised in interest, the slight purse of his lips that quirked up into a bit of a smile. No matter what had crossed through his mind at that moment, Chishiya didn’t care.
The fact that you caught Niragi’s eye was all that he needed to feel the frown creep up on his face. Of course, before anyone could give anything a second thought he managed to distract him and his prying eyes.
But both of them weren’t dumb.
Something had happened just there. Something neither men could wrap their heads around— mainly Chishiya. Niragi now knew you were of some importance to the smug bastard, and Chishiya couldn’t figure out why he cared. Him, who only ever cared about himself, doing something out of his way to help someone out. Even though he probably just worsened the chance of guaranteed safety for you.
The day right after that, Chishiya approached you with the same nonchalance he did daily. But today, he pulled something out of his pocket that surprised you.
“For you. Protect yourself, don’t be careless and die here. It’d be a rather pathetic death, dying out here than in a game that was purposefully designed to kill you.” For many, being spoken to like that would probably be off-putting. Maybe a little bit offensive. But you had just let out an airy chuckle, your uncertainty showing through your laugh.
“How charming.” Was what you said, taking the unknown object into the palm of your hand.
Seeing as you seemed a little confused, he piped up again, looking down at the sheathed shiv then at you, “it fits in your pocket— it’s a makeshift blade. I made it. Don’t say I never did anything for you—”
“Thank you.”
He stared at you for a moment, seeing the small smile on your face. It was one that found some amusement in this display of… well, he wasn’t sure what it was. All he knew was that, with the way you looked at him, he felt this fluttering in his stomach. Perhaps he ate something wrong not too long ago.
That must have been… weeks ago now. Every week he came up with something new to gift you. Not all of them were shabby trinkets he created himself, like for example once he gave you a lighter. Where he gets these things, no one knows. But him, of course.
Though as weeks dwindled and passed by, he knew it was only a matter of time before shit hit the fan.
He already had his plan mapped out, the only person he trusted to work in this was Kuina. Why not you? Because for the slightest chance they might fuck up, he didn’t want you caught in the crossfire.
After a hectic day, he found his way to you. Ever since he figured out how to make bombs, he thought, why can’t he make something with the same technology to make you happy? Or at least, to provide a show. He even figured out a way to get them coloured. Of course, he didn’t have enough materials or knowledge to go beyond that but he thought he refined his craft pretty well.
So when he tried to find you, and you weren’t in your usual spots, he felt a pit forming in his stomach.
He didn’t dare call out your name, only searching for you in quiet. Had you finally been taken? Or… did you not come back from a game? Was this Niragi’s doing? Who would be out to get you?—
“Chishiya.”
His head whipped around, pieces of hair briefly flying into his face. He staggered a little, just a bit out of breath from his frantic searching. Right. Here on the roof top, a place he had personally introduced you to. A place where no one knew you could go.
In an attempt to regain his composure, he let out a little cough. “You— why are you up here?” He spoke out, brows furrowing just a little at his own words that sounded a little colder than he meant them to be.
An amused scoff left you, as you approached him, the moonlight and dim lights of the rooftop being the only light source, “I needed the fresh air.” You breathed out, a somber look on your face. At the moment, he figured it out. You must know it too, a mutual understanding you both have.
How this place had reached its due date.
He’d never been the one for distractions. To wallow in your own self pity and pretending that something wasn’t there when it clearly was. But for you, he’d indulge just a little.
“I kept up with my weekly quota, as promised,” a promise he created himself. Out of his pockets, each of his hands pulled out two dynamite looking sticks. Thin enough to be sandwiched between his fingers. “Fireworks, impressive, right?” He spoke with just a bit of smugness to his tone. That wasn’t really a question he needed answering to. Either way, whatever your answer would’ve been it didn’t matter.
The way your eyes lit up as you let out an audible gasp, already fiddling with your pockets for (presumably) your lighter was enough of an answer for him.
“You’re amazing! I mean— first the bombs and now fireworks? What can’t you do? Oh my god, you should totally make me a little robot thing—” as you blabbered, he already made his way to place the fireworks a good distance away from where they’d plan to sit and watch. A little bit of a smile on his face.
When everything got set up, he gestured towards the fireworks. “What are you waiting for? Don’t tell me you’re scare—”
Tsssssss.
A boisterous laugh escaped you as you immediately grabbed him by his arm, having gone out of the way to light them up as he was in the middle of taunting you.
What did this remind him of?
This reminded him of those cheesy romance dramas, the moment where the main characters confessed their love under the fireworks. While he never understood that, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. The happy look in your eye, the way you held his arm, how you reminded him of him just a little but be on an entirely different plane from him as well.
As the first firework set off, he saw how your turned around and he could see the bright light cascade over the glimmer of your eyes. How the light in your eyes shone brighter than any firework he could manufacture.
At that moment, for the first time in his time being in this twisted land, he didn’t think. “I love you.” He whispered out, not even paying attention to the light show as he watched how your expression shifted. How your eyes met his in that moment, the way your expression went from amazement to surprise.
Maybe it was too quick to say something like that. But in this lawless land, what did he gain from holding onto every little thing he wanted to say and do?
Over the loud booming of the fireworks, he tried to speak as much as he could. Saying that he wasn’t entirely sure what he was feeling, or how it even happened, but all he knew was that he fell. Hard. And that he wanted nothing but to see you alive— protect you even though deep down, he knew you were capable on your own.
You couldn’t even hear him. How were you supposed to, with those fireworks? But he still kept speaking. With tears in your eyes, you could only let out a choked laugh as you cupped his face with your hands and pulled him into a kiss.
“Oh shut up, just for once.” You laughed, briefly separating to only pull him back in again.
He could only think about how soft you felt against him, your warm hands creating this sorts of contrast against his cold skin. Was this really love? He didn’t know. But one thing he did know for certain, as he finally planted his hands on your hips;
i think last boss is a mega redditor and/ frequented 4-chan a lot. It’d probably be the only place where he’s garnered actual discussion besides talking into an empty void on that blog site
finished an old wip i didn't rlly like but it actually turned out alright !! yippee
idk i kinda want to add more textures to my art lol :3
also idk if anyone cares about my headcanons orwhatever but jsdhjdhejd i think he kindof reminds me of snakes !!! like have you guys ever seen a snake eat??? cool ashell (this post was sponsored by my pet snake dahlia, shes rlly cool) and also. did you know that some snakes have infrared vision??? like that is so fucking cool omg??? so yea i think he can also see stuff based on temperature :3 (but hes otherwise blind) (imo) (you can disagree) (ijust think its cool) (♡)
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