Guys, if you are interested in my work, wanna be moots, or just wanna follow me— follow my new account @2000npink , I'm no longer active on this one!!! 𖹭
summary: when you attempt to kill a stranger wandering your apartment complex, you realize you chose the wrong guy to mess with, leaving you to discover you were meant to kill all along by his side—followed by some unfamiliar feeling you can’t seem to let go of.
notes: my first public fic!! i decided to split this up into parts because i’m planning on making this relatively long?? nothing is set yet but there 100% will be a part two coming out hopefully soon. i hope everyone enjoys this and have fun!!!!
This thin handle feels heavy as ever in your hands, maybe it feels heavier than normal because you know what you plan to do with it. The wood fits each finger of yours perfectly. It’s almost like this is the right choice. You slip the kitchen knife into the pocket of your gray zip-up hoodie and force it to fit as your roommate walks down the hall of your apartment, reaching the kitchen, where you stand.
“Where are you headed to?”
Lindsey digs through a cabinet taller than her. You start to sweat.
“I was gonna go to the corner store real quick, we are out of, uh, salt.”
Lindsey raises a brow, looking back to you instead of the bags of chips stacked in the wooden cabinet she’s digging through. “At 1 in the morning?”
You nod, forcing a smile.
“Uh, alright. Keep your phone on, it’s dark and I might have you grab something for me.”
You chuckle and nod, shoving your hands into your jean pockets to avoid slicing your hand open in the hoodie pockets. Lindsey puts her attention back on the snacks, allowing you to slip out of the front door swiftly. You let go of a deep breath before heading to the elevator. You smash the button as hard as you can, desperate to escape this floor to do what you’ve wanted to do for too long. The heart in your chest pounds as hard as ever without even doing anything.
This concept of you really getting to kill, something you awaited far too long makes your mouth water. The concept of all these problems you hold inside releasing as a knife stabs into whoever you may choose as if their blood flowing is these thoughts and terrors leaving your body.
The elevator dings loudly, bringing you back to Earth. You walk into the empty elevator, enclosing yourself in this box of a room. Right as the door begins to shut, a hand nearly slams onto it. The doors spread again. The hand falls back down to a man standing. He wears a white hoodie, barely white anymore as it’s littered with stains and age. His legs are concealed by black jeans, slight rips at the knees. His face is concealed by a black mask which also covers his neck. His presence makes you sweat harder. His eyes scan down you before stepping into the elevator, directly next to you.
The doors shut, entrapping him with you. His breathing is heavy, louder than the awkward music playing. You’ve never seen him around your apartments, causing wonder. You don’t know him. Perhaps no one here does.
You move your hands from your side to grasp the knife in your pocket. Maybe he can take these problems you hold away. Or maybe you can make him take them away. You feel your mouth water, feeling like you just drank a gulp of water.
You can barely focus on how you’ll do it from the feeling of eyes glaring down at you. He wasn’t much taller than you but enough he would have to look down a bit.
The elevator dings again, the doors spreading. The man slithers out from the room before the doors have the chance to open fully. He’s getting away. Does he know what I’m planning? Maybe he saw the knife and he’s on the way to tell someone. Anyone.
You begin spiraling. You quickly follow after him, the doors shutting behind you. He is barely in sight anymore from how fast he’s moving, speeding out of the lobby and out the front doors. Your heart pounds harder than before. Not from the same feeling, not the pounding of excitement when you thought about killing someone yet, the pounding of fear that you are going to be caught before you’ve even done anything. The outside is loud with cars on the streets and people conversing with one another. You live downtown, a city which never sleeps. Ever. You watch the man push past people walking on the sidewalks, never looking back. You can’t let him escape, you push past all the same people, curses thrown at you loud. You watch him push past another to slip down into the alleyway next to the corner store you lied to Lindsey about going to. You begin to jog before halting at the entrance of the alley, the man nowhere to be seen.
You sweat hard, the breeze not cooling you at all anymore. You slowly pull the knife from your pocket, gripping to the familiar handle. You tip-toe down the alley, eyes darting everywhere there is to look. He couldn’t have gone far. He couldn’t. There’s nowhere to hide here. But. Large dumpsters sit near the middle of the alley, two on opposing sides. He’s gotta be behind one of them. You creep up slowly, cringing at the soft sound of your feet hitting the concrete. You lunge forward, peering behind the dumpster on the left before the feeling of something like a heavy punch to the back of your calf, heat immediately spreading across you. You bark out a scream unlike anything you’ve ever heard leave yourself before, smashing your knees against the ground. Something strong pulls your hair back.
“Shut the fuck up.”
A man’s voice whispers, the heat from his breath about as hot as the sensation in your leg. His hand covers your mouth and nose, stopping any noise from leaving you. You look up, the man from the elevator. He’s crouching low, holding your limp body to himself. You try to scream but no noise leaves. A few bustling voices from the crowded sidewalk mutter “what was that?” yet, no one comes to find out. You try to scream once more, now you can’t even feel the scream coming from your throat. The man’s breathing slows a bit, him relaxing. You do quite the opposite.
“I see you have a knife too, huh? What was your plan with that?” His voice comes out a rough whisper, his voice holding a slight rasp. You shake your head and try to break free from his grasp but it’s no use.
“We need to go and you better fucking stay silent or else I’ll kill you right now, you got it?”
You nod, shaking under his rough hand. His eyes crinkle under his mask, showing he’s smiling. You shudder. He slowly moves his hand from your mouth, you immediately take a deep breath. Now. You scream as loud as you can and try to stand. The man yells curses before grabbing you by your arm, pulling you back behind the dumpster. He snatches your head, gripping tightly in his hands. The last thing you see is his wide blue eyes before he bashes your head against the brick wall next to you.
— ∘◦ ⦻
Your eyes blink open slowly, head pounding hard as you’ve ever felt. The ground under you stabs into your back, making you squirm. You slowly rise from the pointy floor, rubbing your sore head. The right side of your head feels crusted as all the hair on that side is matted to your skull. You scratch some of the hardened liquid, if that’s what it is, from your head. Flakes of dried crimson now lay in your hand. Fuck. You look at your surroundings, you lay in the middle of a forest floor, the sky still a shade of dark navy blue. You are starting to remember that man. He did this. You shove your hand into the pocket of your hoodie, oh no. The knife is gone. He’s somewhere in these woods with two knives. You look around you, looking for any sign of him or anyone for that matter. At this point, you’d hope to see him as being alone feels scarier. You slowly rise from the wooded floor, forgetting about the wound now in your leg. You silence the yell of pain about to leave you and groan. You can stand on it but can’t put all your weight on it. Well, fuck. You try to ignore the amount of fear inside as you begin walking left, as if you know which way the city is. Any way will have to get you out of here.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
You spin around, it’s the man. Yet, his mask is off. You shudder at the sight of him. His mouth which was previously covered has two long cuts stretching from the corners of his mouth to close to his ears, forming some kind of morbid smile. His skin is an extremely pale white, barely any tan noticeable under the moonlight. The skin you can see is also littered with burn marks and scars, old and new. His hair is long, reaching just a bit under his chest and colored a clearly dyed, deep shade of black. Something in his look scares you but not as much as you would expect it to. You are more scared of where he suddenly came from.
“Uh.”
“You were out cold, I was starting to believe you were dead.” He mutters, stepping closer, his knife still in hand, stained with your blood from before. Your knife sticks out from the pocket of his white hoodie, shining in your eyes. You don’t respond to his comment and press your back to a tree.
“That little fucking scene you made in that alley almost got me caught, you know?”
You can’t speak as he nears closer. The harder he smirks, the higher the cut smile reaches.
“Why did you wait for me then?” You cringe the minute the words leave your mouth. Why are you playing smart with him?
“Tell me why you wanted to kill me.” He demands, voice stern.
He bashed your head so hard, you completely forgot that was your goal. Your leg is killing you, hardly able to even lean on a tree anymore. You slowly slide your back against the bark, trying to reach the floor. Before you can get even halfway down, the man grabs your neck. He pulls you back to stand and chokes you hard. You claw at his hands, gasping for air.
“Tell me or else I push harder.”
You tap his hands numerous times, indicating that you’ll speak. He softens his hold while keeping his hands softly on your neck. You take deep breaths, trying to remember why.
“I just…wanted to kill someone.” You say under your breath, the words tasting like poison.
He raises a brow slightly, confusion yet some sort of pleasure slathered on his face.
“You just wanted to kill someone. Starting to sound like me.”
You say nothing, not wanting to make the wrong move. It seems like he does this shit for fun. Murder. Are you much better than him though? You almost did the exact same thing to him.
“Why’d you pick me?” He questions, the hand on your neck softening more.
“I saw you first and didn’t recognize you so I thought I’d.. kill you.”
A soft, devious chuckle escapes his lips, his scabby smile stretching. He slowly lets his hands off your neck, letting you take a deeper breath.
“Had to make sure you didn’t work with the cops or nothing. Guess you’re safe to kill now, huh? Or. Unless.”
Your eyes widen. He got his information. Now, he can kill you. You begin sweating, fearing your life. This “unless” he left in the air scares you more.
“Maybe we play some kind of game.”
You push yourself harder against the tree, anything to keep yourself away from him.
“Why don’t I give you your knife and I keep mine, whoever can stab the other first wins.”
You consider the game, some kind of false confidence washing over you, “What do I get if I win?”
His smirk grows wider, “You get to go home, I let you go. But if I win, you stay with me.”
You hesitantly nod, if it means you can go home, even just maybe, you want to do it. He walks over, handing you your knife from earlier. You take it by the blade before holding it to your side, now fisting the handle. He backs himself up, about 10 feet away. He holds the already bloodied knife in his fist, his knuckles turning whiter than his skin already is.
“3…”
“2…”
“1!”
He loudly barks before darting towards you, his black hair blowing behind him. Before you can think, you spin away from where you were, dodging him. He looks back at you, his eyes freakishly wide, pleasure and insanity gleaming behind his icy blue eyes, they always seem to be. You speed behind him before he can move from the spot you previously were, holding his head in between your chest and arm, making him crouch a bit. He pants heavily. You let out a giggle, moving the knife up to his throat. Right when you believe you might have won this early, that same punching pain you felt in your leg in the alley smacks against your abdomen. Then it begins heating, burning your skin and insides. This time, it hurts more. You scream bloody murder, your hands releasing the man and clasping around your waist covering the new stab wound. The man gets to his knees next to you, putting his hand over your mouth and nose again. Your vision begins blurring, eyes struggling to stay open. You hear the man murmur curses to himself as he shuffles above you. You watch him through slow blinks remove his stained white hoodie, revealing a black, ribbed tank top underneath. You feel the fabric wrap around your torso, assuming to stop the blood flow. You let your eyes shut, letting this black consume you.
— ∘◦ ⦻
“How many times do I need to fucking repeat myself? I didn’t mean to.”
“You need to get a grip, Jeff. I’m pretty damn close to babysitting your missions. This one was crucial.”
You rub your eyes with a longing groan, the voices previously talking go dead silent. You blink your eyes awake, this feeling getting familiar by now. Now a ceiling stands above you, not forest. Where are you now? You slowly sit up from the plush under you, propping up onto your elbows. The man from the alley and the forest and some other unknown man stand at the end of the bed you lay on. You tense and push yourself against the headboard.
“Don’t worry, we aren’t gonna hurt you.”
You make no sudden movements or sound. Your torso and leg aches horribly, burning sensations and aches radiate from the wounds.
“I’m Tim, this is Jeff.”
Tim points from himself to the man who tried to kill you before, apparently named Jeff. You decide against introducing yourself. Awkward silence pierces the thick air of the dirty bedroom you lay in. A medium sized pile of stained clothing lay next to the bed you are on, the floor is a dirty, dark hardwood. The walls are littered with graffiti tags and drawings as well as a few assorted posters, hung lazily. You look back up to the men, staring down at you, Tim’s face holds zero emotion while Jeff’s looks irritated.
Tim wears a white t-shirt, decently clean and a blue pair of jeans. His face is a tad scarred, not too noticeable. His sideburns creep far down, reaching his jaw. Jeff looks the same as before yet, in a tank top like what was under his hoodie in the forest.
“Where am I?”
“She speaks.”
Tim scowls over to Jeff, no sign of enjoyment in this mess.
“The mansion, a home of sorts.” Tim shoves his burly, crossed arms into the pockets of his jeans. “You’ll be staying here.”
“Woah, woah. What do you mean?” Your heart begins pounding, terrified at the thought of living with this man who just tried to kill you.
“We need to keep you here. It was The Operator’s plan to bring you here at some point just, not yet. But now you’re here.”
Your mind races. What about Lindsey? What about your whole life? People will start looking for you, wondering where you went. Who’s The Operator?
“No. No. I can’t stay here. I have a life.”
“That’s done you wrong though, yeah?” Jeff butts in, cutting you off.
“Why would you know anything about that?”
He shrugs and smirks, Tim’s brows begin to furrow.
“Just stop. This is a lot to process.” Tim mutters to Jeff, Jeff rolls his eyes and leans against the wooden dresser against the wall, the top of which is littered with wrappers and dust. “Slender wants to talk to you, we’ll walk you to his office.”
You don’t bother asking questions anymore, they aren’t helpful. You simply nod, eyes looking around your surroundings still. You try to prop yourself up more, groaning at the pain, trying not to scream instead. It’s a pain unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. You fall back onto the bed, hands holding your abdomen which is still covered by Jeff’s hoodie. Tim walks over to you somewhat quickly, sliding his arm under your neck, helping you sit up. Tim shoots a scowl at Jeff, telling him to help him carry your pathetic body. Jeff scoffs and slips his hand under your zip up, grasping a hand around your waist. The warmth from his hand is somewhat soothing, seeping through your shirt. As much as you don’t want these strangers touching you, you take the help. They hoist you up to stand. You keep your left leg bent a bit, preventing the injury from having pressure on it while you stand. They carry you, practically drag you, out of Jeff’s room, now reaching a long hallway. The hall is slightly messy, pictures in frames hung nicely against the walls while dust lay across anything it can and assorted slices and holes stand in the walls. There’s a door at the way end of the hall, the two begin walking you there. You pass a few other doors, commotion coming from some. The doors all have some sort of decoration on the front yet, you can’t get a good look.
You reach the door, your body still aching even without using it. Tim uses his free hand to knock on the door. A short pause lasts before the door slowly swings open. A long black tentacle retracts back from the door now open, leading to a lanky, extremely tall man sitting at a desk in the middle of the room. He has no face as well as pure white skin, the whole head plain white minus a few shadows where facial features would be. He wears a black suit and a red tie, no creases in sight.
“(Y/N).”
The man at the desk speaks, his voice deep yet formal. How does he know your name? Tim and Jeff bring you over to the seat standing in front of his desk, sitting you down.
“Thank you for bringing her. Will you two excuse us?”
The two silently nod and shut the door behind them, leaving you stuck in this room with this monster of a man.
“I know you’re confused, I’m gonna explain this to the best of my abilities. I have been watching you for some time.” Watching? Your heart beats even quicker. “You have what we need.”
“What does that mean?”
A sigh escapes his lack of lips. He’s thinking of how to explain this to you.
“You would easily be one of us. You got a concept of what we are with your interaction with Jeff, didn’t you?”
“So.. killers?”
“For lack of a better term, yes. I bring in those with trauma and horror in their life to me, to take care of them and give them missions.”
You simply nod, not sure what to make of all this. He takes in people and makes them kill as a “mission”. I guess that means he watched me try to kill Jeff and every other fucked up thing in your life. He thinks this is what I should do with your life. Maybe it is.
“I understand you need time to consider and think about this, I get it. Why don’t you stay around, get to know some others here in the mansion before choosing?”
You nod again, at a slight loss for words.
“How rude of me,” he scoffs, “I’m the Operator Tim mentioned.”
The Operator puts a long arm out, his fingers pure white and thin. You slowly take the hand and shake it, his fingertips freezing your wrist. He pulls it away and nods before the tentacle that opened the door prior stretches out from his back, slithering through the air behind me, opening the door again. You peek behind you, the door opening, revealing the hallway again. Jeff and Tim lean on the walls of the hall, looking through the open door. They walk in, moving their hands back to their previous positions to help me leave. Your leg starts pounding again, that same feeling of heat spreading across your body.
The two quickly escort you from the room and back to Jeff’s bedroom, the smell of iron and sweat abusing your nose. They lay you back on his bed, the comfort taking some of that pain from you.
“You can rest here for a while, you shouldn’t be walking on that.” Tim suggests. Jeff’s eyes widen, practically bulging from his head. He shakes his head aggressively, laughing with a tone of anger.
“That’s not what we said, she’s not staying in my fucking room.”
“I never said she’s spending the night here, she’s gonna rest in here till tonight. She can sleep on the couch.” Tim replies, keeping his tone relaxed as much as possible with someone this irritating.
Jeff groans with an eye roll. This wouldn’t be the case if he didn’t stab you in the leg. Tim shoots you a glance before leaving the room. Tim shuts the door behind him, leaving it slightly ajar. You watch as Jeff leans back against the dresser, he grabs a knife, most likely the same one he stabbed you with and begins rubbing the blade down with a dirty rag from the top of the dresser as well.
“Can you quit fucking staring at me?” Jeff’s voice comes out with a rasp coated in anger. You flop your head back onto the pillow. You would freak out about what’s going on and where you even are but it’s no good. It would most likely result in you getting stabbed. You can tell he’s considered doing it multiple times by now.
“Why did that- the Operator guy say he’s been watching me?” You question, propping your head up a bit, moving to lean back against the headboard.
He sighs loudly, “Because he has been. He does that when he thinks you should be one of.. us. I guess.” His voice comes out monotone, he’s nowhere near pleased to be talking to you.
“What is he watching?”
“Do you need to ask this many questions?”
You sigh and look out of the window to your right. A large forest extends as far as you can see, you wonder how far away from home you are. And if you’ll ever find out. The sky is a dark navy blue yet the horizon is a glowing orange. The sun is rising, it’s real early in the morning by now.
You turn your head back to see Jeff has now left the room, leaving you alone. You can’t be upset he wants nothing to do with you, you tried to murder him yet, he tried harder. You decide to stare out of the window again.
— ∘◦ ⦻
“(Y/N)?”
You blink your eyes open, you fell asleep apparently. You don’t recognize this room. Before you have time to look around, you look at the voice. Tim. He’s standing in the same outfit he had on before other than an orange jacket stained endlessly covering his arms. He holds a mask in his hand. It’s a pure white, the eyes and lips are a deep black and assorted stains and usage coat it. Two others stand behind him. The one to the right of him tips his head, his nose and mouth covered by a mask, striped with strips of metal.. He wears a brown hoodie, only striped at the arms. Yellow-lensed goggles sit in his wavy hair on his forehead. His head jerks around a bit, loud whistles escaping him, seeming not intentional. The other male to the left of Tim wears a yellow hoodie, his whole face covered by a fully black mask other than the eyes and frown, painted in a maroon red.
“Hey, we are heading out. Me and Jeff put you down here, in the living room to hang out. Me or Jeff won’t be home for a while, a few people will be here. You should try and talk to them.”
You nod, not fully listening and partially unable to even if you wanted to since the man on Tim’s right keeps whistling over his voice. He quietly shushes himself in between each noise. Tim nods and turns around, the others turn as well and walk out of the room and past the corner on the right, leaving the house. The split second the door was open, light poured in through the crack. It’s morning now.
You decided to examine the living room a bit, the walls are coated in a tacky, seemingly 20’s floral wallpaper. Tears, stains, small homes and marks litter it. A TV stands on a small table across from the couch you are on, a large crack in the top corner of it. This place is a bit of a mess yet, not very dirty, just tattered and worn as well as dated.
A sigh escapes your mouth, as much as you don’t want to accept this fate, you may have to. Unless. You avoid thinking too much about how you don’t wanna be here, if the Operator is able to watch you, maybe he can hear your thoughts. Before you shut down all these racing thoughts, you plan on when to escape.
— ∘◦ ⦻
An hour and a few passes, the guys should be long gone now, yeah? Maybe you can escape. The man who brought you here isn’t here anymore. You can leave. You consider how bad your real life has fucked you up, making you move to the bustling city you never wanted to be in. Starting your life over, changing your name. This would all start again if you lived here.
Your eyes go blurry with tears beginning to brew, confusion beginning to tear into you. You must leave. Right?
You rise to your feet from the couch, your abdomen burning with pressure. You quickly hobble to the door, avoiding standing hard on that leg. You open the door, a small porch with steps leading down to the woods stands in front of you. You limp to the porch and cling to the railing as you hop down the steps. It’s time to run. You begin running, even though it hurts, you run. You don’t even acknowledge the pain too much from the desperation to just forget this mess. Keeping your head down to avoid tripping on roots and whatever lay on this forest floor, you hear a loud yelp and someone grips to your waist. The force from the hands pushes you down, slamming your back to the ground.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
Jeff stands over you, his legs stand on either side of your body. His knife is wet with someone or something’s fresh blood. His white hoodie is littered with dark, almost black blood. His black hair is matted from the same liquid.
“I. Uh.”
“Trying to escape, hm?” His sinister smile stretches even farther, his teeth showing. “Operator was scared to tell you. You join us or you die. Once you know about this place, you’re stuck.”
You feel your eyes widen, eyes drying from the lack of blinking. He bends down, squatting over you. He reeks of metal.
“Get o-off her, Jeff!”
The man from before, the one with the goggles, is jogging over. His mask is lowered, revealing a deep hole in his cheek, molars showing through the broken yet healed skin. The sight makes you want to stare but you refrain. He holds a hatchet in his hands, the blade covered in wet blood just like Jeff’s knife. Jeff stands up off you, sighing. He takes his legs from you and walks over to him. They meet in the middle.
“What is your d-deal?” The man yelps out, stuttering a decent bit. Jeff’s face is the same irritated look he’s had since you met him.
“She tried escaping, I just found her.”
“For f-fuck’s sake.” The man walks over to you, pushing Jeff to the side, putting his hand out for you to take. His hand is stained crimson. You hesitantly take the hand, he pulls you to your feet. The aching throbs harder than before, adrenaline wearing off.
“Jeff, take her back. I h-h-have to,” He whistles loudly and jerks his head into his shoulder, “I have to stay with Brain and Tim, you’ve done enough for today.”
Jeff wants to fight back but doesn't, accepting his fate. He just walks past the goggled man and to you, grabbing your arm, dragging you behind him as he speed walks.
“Hey- hey. S-she’s wounded, put down yo-your cool guy act and carry her, fu-fucking wuss.”
Jeff growls loudly, shooting the meanest scowl back at the goggled man. He lets go of your arm suddenly before getting behind you and picking you up. He holds you tight to himself, his arms under you. As much as he seems to despise you, he seems to not want to hurt you again (at least too much). You look past Jeff’s shoulder to see the man watching you be swept away, hatchets dangling from his hands.
“What’s his name?” You ask, tone quiet to keep from pissing Jeff off more.
“Why? You just got here and you’re gonna try fucking anyone here showing any kinda kindness, huh?” Jeff scoffs, hoisting you up in his arms.
“What’s your fucking deal?” Jeff snickers at your yell, his scabby cuts twisting.
“His name’s Toby, I call him Spaz.”
You nod once, getting the answer you wanted. You watch the tall trees pass over you, caging above you and Jeff like ribs. The sky glows in gold, gleaming dark shadows onto you. Before you know it, the forest opens up, revealing the mansion. It stuns you how it hasn’t been found out yet, its tall, Victorian walls towering close to the trees. Jeff stomps up the porch, not keeping you steady whatsoever. He pounds open the front door with his foot, swinging it open. He stumbles the two of you inside, beelining to the stairs. You glance up to see someone walking down them, it’s a boy. A long smirk strings along his face as he slows.
“Aye, what happened to you too?” The boy snickers, eyeing the two of you.
“Talk to me after I shove her in my room, Ben.” Jeff spits, continuing up the steps. Ben follows after Jeff like a dog.
“Oh shit- you’re (Y/N), huh?” His voice comes out with a crack, as if he’s getting over a lost voice. Jeff speeds up and kicks open his door once we reach the hall from previously. He flops you, nowhere near gently, onto his bed. You groan and clasp an arm around your waist in pain.
“Yeah, I am. Why does everyone here know me?” You glance at Jeff, he’s running a lanky hand through his hair, flakes of dry blood fall from his head.
“Dude- you’ve been like the mission for the past few months.” Ben butts in. You examine him, his hair is a yellow-ish shade of blonde, seemingly natural. It’s around Jeff’s length of hair, more shaggy from what you can see, a green slouchy hat covering the top of his head. He wears a baggy pair of black jeans, a green ‘Zelda’ t-shirt covering his torso. “I’ve been aaaalll up in your computer.”
You raise a brow, eyes shooting from Ben to Jeff, back and forth. “What?”
He snickers and shakes his head, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “Don’t worry about it, girl.” He looks over to Jeff who's leaning against the window, working as a curtain. “Well, uh, I’ll leave you two to it. I’m right across the hall, come over sometime.” Ben says with a sincere yet mischievous smile as he turns to leave the room. You watch him leave and turn back to Jeff, he stares with hatred or something resembling it.
“I don’t want to sleep on the couch again tonight.” You admit, voice quiet. He groans with an eye roll.
“Too fucking bad.” He spits out. “Why are you such a brat?” You spit back.
He creeps closer to you, one hand slithering onto the pocket of his hoodie, where he keeps his knife. “I’d kill you right fucking now if the Operator wasn’t watching your every move, you know that?” He pulls the knife from his pocket, knuckles white against the handle. Veins pop from his skin as if he might burst. You push back the fear in your throat.
“I wish you would.” You watch his face grow redder by the second, knife shaking in his pale hand. He practically screams suddenly, throwing his knife to the floor and storming from the room. You laugh to yourself as you flop back onto Jeff’s bed, sprawling yourself out.
— ∘◦ ⦻
After a little while, you forced yourself to stand. You couldn’t lay in Jeff’s room all day and you didn’t want to, the smell of him growing overwhelming. He would as well come in every half hour, scowling when you weren’t gone.
You stumble from the room, the throbbing of your abdomen and calf never slowing. Ben. You remember him mentioning his room was directly in front of Jeff’s. You look at the wooden door, green lights flooding from the crack under the door. You should at least get to know people, huh? You hesitate before knocking on the door, leaning against the door frame.
“Hold up!” Ben barks from behind the door. Sounds of a TV from the other side pauses and footsteps grow loud. He opens the door, a calm face growing into a smile at the sight of you.
“Hey (Y/N), decided to take up my offer?” He teases, opening the door wider. You can see more of the room, LED lights shining a shade of green trail around every corner of the room, no orange or white light in sight other than the TV and slight sunlight. The walls are littered with posters for games, some you’ve never heard of. Trash for food and drinks scatter across every ledge and clothes lay on the floor. A very teen-boy room.
“W-who’s that?” A voice from behind Ben stutters. As the door opens wider, you see Toby, the goggled guy from before. He sits on the edge of the bed, his eyes growing wider at the sight of you. “Oh, h-hey.”
“Well, come in.” Ben suggests. You nod and stumble in, hand staying wrapped around the injury still residing on your stomach. Toby swiftly rises to his feet, walking over to you.
“Fuck, Jeff g-got you good.” He mutters as he takes your free hand, guiding you to sit on the edge on the bed next to him. You both sit, sinking into the plush of the mattress and you shrug.
“Yeah.” You reply, unsure of what to say. Ben claps his hands together causing you and Toby to look over to him. He smirks hard and points to the gaming console sat next to the TV he has mounted to the wall.
“Me and Toby were just playing a game, you wanna play with us?” You smile hard and nod. Maybe this place isn’t all bad.
After an hour of yelling at one another and throwing of controllers, a knock on the door interrupts. Ben groans loudly and pauses the game. He strides lazily to the door, sunlight shines in as the door opens making you and Toby wince. Your eyes meet Jeff’s, standing in front of Ben in front of the door. His eyes widen and quickly shift to a half-lidded scowl. He shoots his glare back to Ben. Jeff mumbles something too softly for you to hear to Ben before walking away, eyebrows furrowed. Ben shuts the door and turns back to you and Toby, a confused look spread on his face.
“What’s his problem?” You ask, turning back to the TV, grabbing your controller off your lap.
Ben shrugs and snickers, “Was looking for you or something, said Slender needs you.” He says, sitting back down on the floor in between me and Toby’s legs.
You raise a brow, “Slender?”
“Oh, ‘the Operator’ as all the suck ups like to say. He needs to talk to you.” Ben snickers, unpausing the game. You mash the pause button back down and stand up.
“I should probably go see what that’s about, huh?” You say, standing up from the bed, forgetting about how bad it hurts to do so. Toby frowns, gash in his cheek twisting with his mouth. Ben pouts and sighs. “Fine, come back later though.”
“N-no, I’m not letting you wa-walk by you-yourself.” Toby claims, sitting up from the couch, squeezing past Ben. Ben groans loud and lets his head fall back on the bed. “I’ll be ba-back, boy.” Toby snickers before wrapping a hand around your shoulders as he begins walking to the door, bringing you alone. The gesture is sweet, it’s good to know you will be capable of making friends here.
Toby limps you from the bedroom and down the hall, the smell of dust and metal abusing your nose. ‘Slender’s’ office isn’t far yet, it feels like you and Toby walked for ages, the way it hurt. You reach the door, Toby slips his free hand from his side to knock on the door. Just like last time, it creaks open from the tentacle, slithering back to Slender’s back. The sight of him makes you shiver, the lack of expression across the lack of his face.
“Thank you for bringing her, Tobias.” He says, nodding his head. Toby snickers awkwardly and brings you into the room, sitting you in the seat across from him, this becoming something familiar. After Toby sits you down, he pats a soft hand to your back before leaving the room, the door creaking shut.
“I’m aware of your escape, (Y/N).” Your heart begins pounding into your ribs as if it’s trying to break free. “What’s the reasoning?”
Jeff told you he can read minds or something like that. He’s gotta be testing you or something then. “I was, um,” Sweat beads at your forehead. “I was just so unsure about this place and, well, what you people do, frankly.” You mumble awkwardly.
“I understand, this can be scary at first. But, I do need an answer from you here and now. Will you be joining us, willing to leave behind the life you previously led?”
The tug-of-war crashing in your head is overwhelming. The sound of abandoning the life you live is enchanting, the amount of wrong and pain it’s left you with and the way it tries to apologize is giving you a shitty apartment with too high rent in the city. Starting over. But the way you’d start over is living in a home full of blood thirsty murderers, committing crimes on the daily as a mission. You remember how you tried to murder Jeff, once a hopeless stranger to you. This was going to be your life whether you join this horrid home or not. One side of the war begins winning, the rope pulled tight in your brain.
“I want to join you. I do.”
Even without an expression, you can tell Slender is proud of you. As if he knew you’d pick the right choice. A soft smile tugs at your lips as you peer down to your lap and the fresh bandage curled around your torso.
“Fantastic. You’ll be sent on your first mission tonight, don’t worry, you won’t be going alone.”
Your head shoots up, confusion, fear and excitement all in one look.
“With Jeffery. I’m aware you too came off with a bad start,” he says, gesturing to your bandage, “so I want you two to..work on this.” You sigh as his sentence finishes, wondering if you’d already made the wrong choice.
Slender’s tentacle stretches out from his back once again, flying in the air and opening the squeaky door behind you. You peer back to see Toby leaning against the wall next to the door, waiting. A goofy, lopsided grin you are beginning to recognize as his stretches along his freckled face as he walks in, tracing a hand around your shoulders as he hoists you up.
“Thank you, Tobias.” Slender’s formal voice booms as we limp from the room, the door shutting by itself behind us.
“So, what’d yo-you say, huh?” Toby asks, his head jerking against yours. A soft sorry leaves his lips.
“I said yes, I’m…here now.” You mutter, still unsure fully of what you had just agreed to. A soft, playful gasp leaves Toby’s mouth followed by a small laugh.
“Th-that’s great! I th-thought this place could maybe do you s-some good, believe it o-or not.” He exclaims, stopping the slow walk in front of a plain door, two doors down from Ben’s room, across the hall from Jeff’s room and whomever else lives up here too.
“This is you-your room.” Toby says, the grip his arm has around your shoulders softening. Room? You realize how serious this new life truly is. It’s so new. You reach a hand out, the metal of the doorknob freezing. You twist it and the door creaks open, that same high pitch squeal as every other door in the worn mansion. The room is empty minus a bed, fully set up and other furniture, including a nightstand and a dresser. The walls are a pastel colored, floral wallpaper, yellowing and torn in spots. Miscellaneous boxes sit in the corner, sharpie scribble on some.
“How pleasant.” You scoff as you hobble into the room, leaving Toby’s arm. He snickers softly and takes a deep breath behind you.
“I-I’ll leave you to i-it then.” Toby smiles that same smile before nodding and walking towards the stairs, leaving you in the room, your room, alone. You sigh soft and sit yourself on the bed, the smell of detergent escaping it. You peer to the boxes, curiosity consuming you as you rise from the squeaky bed and investigate. The box on the top of the tower reads “For (Y/N).” on the top in poor handwriting. You pry it open to find a short stack of fashion magazines, a machete and some other random items. Your eyes graze over the machete, its long blade shining, untouched appearing. You curl your fingers around the wooden blade, smooth under your fingers. You assume this will be your weapon. Jeff has that knife, you’ll have this machete. A smirk pulls at your lips and you move to look at the magazines. The one on top has a sticky note on top, reading “For you! -Nina”, the dot in the exclamation point and the ‘i’, a heart. Another one of the killers. You peel the note off, move back to the bed and flop down as you begin reading through the magazine. Some of the people here don’t seem all that bad.
— ∘◦ ⦻
Your peacefulness is disturbed by aggressive footsteps finding their way closer and closer to where you lay on your bed, your third magazine in hand. You peer up to meet eyes with Jeff. He wears the stained white hoodie you used as a bandage a day ago and the black jeans he never seems to take off. That same, irritated look is spread along his pale face.
“Are you ready? We gotta go.” He asks yet, it barely sounds like a question. You glance over to the clock provided on your nightstand, ‘6:48’. Tonight. The mission.
“Oh, right. Um, yeah.” Worry begins bubbling in your throat as you shut the magazine and stand from the bed, groaning with pain. Jeff’s foot patters against the floor impatiently as you grab your zip-up from the other side of the bed and the machete from the box. He begins walking from the room as you hobble behind him, to the stairs. You struggle down them yet, manage. You didn’t even want to ask for help from Jeff, knowing he’d make it worse. He stands next to the front door, avoiding looking at your struggle. You make it to the bottom, two people you don’t recognize sit in the living room, seemingly concentrated on something other than you.
“Can you hurry? We don’t have all fucking day.” Jeff spits, finally looking at you.
“We could’ve already been gone if you didn’t stab me, smartass.” You say, a smirk obvious on your face. You know he can’t hurt you, Slender would kill me and frankly, you are holding a machete. He scoffs and opens the front door, you follow close behind. The air is crisp, wind trailing through your hair, brushing it for you. The forest is dark, looking nowhere near inviting. You slip your hoodie over your plain black tank top you wear, the same one you’ve worn since you came here. You and Jeff begin trailing into the woods, you try to keep up.
“So, what exactly is the mission?” You ask, keeping your voice near a whisper in case.
“Some wannabe investigators have been getting too close to the mansion, Slender wants ‘em gone.” He states as if it’s obvious. You nod, keeping quiet. You two walk for what feels like forever, your leg throbbing. Jeff suddenly halts, one arm flying in front of you to stop you from going. The woods are silent until you hear a soft voice in the distance. A man’s voice. A flashlight far off shines.
“There they are. You follow my lead, alright?” Jeff whispers, hard to hear. A simple ‘mhm’ leaves you, fear washing over you as you realize this is serious. Jeff starts walking again yet crouched, his knife now in his hand. You keep a bit behind as you two grow closer. You can make them out now, it’s two men, one holds a flashlight and one holds a camera, filming.
“Watch.” Jeff whispers suddenly before springing up and bolting to the two. Before the men can react, he’s slitting one’s throat, flashlight clattering to the ground. The other screams and drops his camera, beginning to run right in your direction fully unaware you are there. Fear and adrenaline rush into you harder, almost clueless on how to react. “Fuck!” Jeff’s voice barks out, noticing the man getting away. Or so he thinks. Without thinking, you quickly rise to your feet and run to the man. You meet him in the middle and slash the machete across his chest. A blood-curdling scream escapes his throat, the sound intoxicating. He collapses to the ground and before he can try to get up and run, you slam a boot to his sliced chest, stomping on the wound. The screams grow louder until you slash another long cut across his head, cutting right through his skull like scissors through paper. The forest goes silent again, nothing but crows cawing. You pant heavily, putting your weight onto the man’s chest, resting your elbow on your knee, ducking your head.
“Holy shit.” Jeff’s voice mutters as the crunching of leaves creeps closer. You force your head up to meet Jeff’s eyes. They are wide, that common look of anger gone, replaced with shock.
“So that’s what you would’ve done to me in that alley, huh?” He teases, shoving his bloodied knife into his hoodie pocket. You move your foot off the corpse and back to the ground with a snicker.
“Yeah, something like that.” You shrug, trying to keep a relaxed face even though pure shock and pride courses through your veins. A genuine smile shines on Jeff’s face, something you’ve never seen before. The look on his face just makes this pride in you grow and makes some kind of warmth you don’t find too familiar shoot across you. You quickly shake away the feeling.
“Uh, now we dispose of the bodies.” Jeff claims, turning away with an awkward gaze and walking to the man he killed. You take a deep breath and gaze back to the body that lies in front of you. You bend down, ignoring the amount of hurt pulsing in your torso from the movement. You grip around the body’s ankles and begin dragging him to Jeff who’s doing the same. You just follow him wherever he’s putting them. It’s only a bit of distance yet, it feels dreadful from how much heavier the body is from you. Jeff brings you to the edge of a creek, stretching as far as the eye can see. He lunges the body into the creek, water splashing up onto us. You struggle yet manage to do the same, your abdomen screaming at you. You look back to Jeff who’s already glaring at you, eyes half-lidded.
“Alright, we should go back.” Jeff mutters, looking away and back into the woods. Without another word, he begins walking. It seems that glimpse of kindness he held has already washed away. You sigh and follow behind.
— ∘◦ ⦻
The full walk back was dead silent. You really thought you might’ve almost dug your way under that whole ‘tough guy’, bitchy exterior but no, you had barely scratched the surface. The second you got home, he was gone before you could even consider what you’d say to him. It seemed like a lost cause.
You ended up just heading to your room after the mission, absolutely exhausted after all that. You didn’t even notice by the time you got to your room that your clothes were coated in blood. The smell of iron lingered on your skin and the taste of plaque filled your mouth. You couldn’t sleep in this. You searched the boxes left in your room for some extra clothes yet to your disappointment, you found nothing. You’ll have to ask for clothes. Jeff is right across the hall. You sigh and shuffle out of your room and down the hall a bit. The sound of loud music grows closer as you reach Jeff’s door, you pound your fist hard against the door in hopes he’ll hear it over the music. After a minute or two, you consider leaving until the door swings open. Jeff’s hair is just as messy as before yet now he wears a fitted band t-shirt reading ‘At the Gates’ and some tattered black sweatpants.
“What?” He spits, not sounding like a question.
“Can I get some clothes? I have none other than these stained ones.” His eyes immediately roll and he looks back into his room.
“Fine but I’ll need them back.” He mumbles, mouth barely moving. He disappears back into the room behind a wall and you listen to a dresser squeak and shuffling. He comes back holding a folded shirt and sweatpants. You take them, your fingers slightly brushing against his. He snatches his hand back and shuts the door in your face.
“Thanks?” You shout through the door before turning back to your room, mumbling curses about him under your breath. You don’t understand his problem, it’s not like you did anything wrong. And I mean if he really did hate you, why would he be giving you clothes? But then also, why does he act so hatefully towards you?
Maybe you just need to find a way under his skin.
— ∘◦ ⦻
You spent most of the next day in the living room of the mansion with Ben, playing games on the TV. Every now and then, someone would come in and complain that we were hogging the TV and some would come play a few rounds of Mario Kart with us. That’s when someone you haven’t met yet walked in.
Out of the corner of your eye, you watched a girl in a purple hoodie, a short, black skirt and a freakishly high ponytail saunter into the living room. She scanned the TV before staring you down. You glance over fully and meet her eyes, her brows curve confused and her eyes trail from your shirt, well.. Jeff’s shirt to your eyes.
“Hey! You’re (Y/N), right?” She squeals, beginning to twirl her ponytail over her shoulder.
“Oh- um. Yeah, you’re…”
She quickly cuts you off, “Nina!”, she exclaims. The girl who gave you those magazines. Her eyes trail from your face to your shirt repeatedly. A loud crash from the TV interrupts the exchange, your car crashing. Ben laughs stupidly loud.
“Is that, um, Jeff’s shirt?” She asks, fingers still twirling around the ponytail. You hear Ben mutter a near silent ‘uh oh’ as he continues playing.
“Oh, yeah. I didn’t have any other clothes and mine got stained pretty badly so, uh, yeah.” You say awkwardly. She nods, eyes trailing around the room.
“Well, come by my room sometime.” Nina snickers before leaving the room, footsteps growing harder against the floor the farther she got.
“What was the deal with that?” You whisper to Ben before turning back to the TV and beginning to play again. He chuckles, some kind of cockiness in his tone.
“Forgot you’re new. Nina is like, obsessed with Jeff. Like, obsessed obsessed.”
“What do you mean?” Your heart beats a little faster as you swerve past a banana on the screen.
“She’s so obsessed with him, that’s literally why she’s here. She saw him on the news once and lost her shit, trying to find him and she did. Now she’s here.” Ben snickers, fingers slamming on the controller. Your chest tightens a bit, squeezing your ribcage.
“What? You jealous or something?” Ben sneered, glancing from the screen to you. Your cheeks flush ever so slightly and you shake your head.
“Mm, uh, no. It’s just weird.”
Ben shoots a stare at you, practically staring right to your soul. He’s suspecting something. You shake your head aggressively, waving your hands in surrender.
“I’ll help you get him, don’t worry.”
— ∘◦ ⦻
You have begun growing used to these missions after another week here. You’ve gotten to meet, you think, everyone at the mansion now. You mostly hang around Ben, Toby and Natalie, your own little friend group as some would say. You wouldn’t say you and Jeff aren’t friends, yet it sure as hell seems like he hates you. You’d be better off without him around anyway. You know that.
Yet, you still find yourself staring longer than necessary when he walks by. Smiling at his shitty remarks. Folding the mansion’s laundry and going a little slower when folding his clothes. Wearing the shirt he gave you to sleep, searching for the smallest remaining bits of his scent. Scowling at Nina’s perverted comments of him. Defending his name when he’s not around.
But no. You don’t like him. And you aren’t friends so even if you did like him, you’d have to give it up.
You found yourself driving the shared truck down a back road, the clock reading 11:49 PM. Jeff sat in the passenger seat, toying with the radio stations. Today’s mission was farther since the Operator wanted you to get them before they got you. Some kind of hunters or something, he kept it vague. You know by now you aren’t allowed, or shouldn’t, ask questions so you just accepted and left. Jeff flipped through stations till giving up, leaving on some shitty dad rock. Silence kept itself hanging between you and Jeff but it wasn’t awkward, it was mutual.
You took the left, slowing as you read the house numbers and stopping once you read “249”. The house. You shut off the truck after parking directly in front of the home. Jeff hops out from the car, tucking his hood over his shaggy black hair. You follow close behind, putting your hood up and trying to hide your machete as much as you could. You followed Jeff as he began walking to the back of the house, cautious of any neighbors seeing or hearing anything. He halts and peers into the window by his head, searching for any hint of awakeness. He nods to you while shoving open the window, unlocked. He snickers and hoists himself up, his sharp shoulder blades bulge through his hoodie as he pulls all his strength nearly silently into the window. He looks down on you from the window and he puts his hands out for you to take. You clench them tight, cold fingers gripping your hands as he pulls you up into the home. The room you two entered through is a kitchen, no lights on and no sign of movement. You butt in front of Jeff as you hop from the counter, tip-toeing to the stairwell. You hear him scoff quietly, irritated, you ignore him. You creep slowly up the steps, wincing at each creek it makes under your boots.
The two of you finally reach the top, shut doors line the walls. Jeff slips himself to the first door, pushing past you. You scoff, what’s his fucking deal? A bed sits against the wall, the shape of a person lies under the blankets. You watch Jeff shuffle as quietly as possible to the body, clasping a pale hand around the handle of his knife. He brings it above his head, ready to shove it into the sleeping body. You know what, no.
This will be your kill.
You cut off by Jeff jumping onto the bed, slouching tall over them as you slice right through their blanket and flesh with your machete. Blood shoots from the body onto you, making you flinch.
“Dude, what the fuck? I was clearly about to do it myself.” He spits, brows furrowing as his hand falls back to his side.
“Took too long.” You snicker, wiping blood from your face with the sleeve of your trusted hoodie. He groans, muttering curses under his breath.
BANG.
Both of your heads shoot to the sound, searching for the source. A man, close to your age, stands in his boxers at the door, pure fear and shock strewn across his face. Jeff immediately begins running to the man, knife in the air.
You know what, this will be your kill too.
You jump from the bed and stick your foot out as you hit the floor, causing Jeff to stumble yet not fall. While he fixes himself in shock, you slice the man right down his middle with your already bloodied machete. He falls to the ground with a heavy thud. The pride of killing two grown men has no time to simmer as a hand, Jeff’s hand clenches around your shoulder and spins you. His brows drew together, jaw clenched tight. Before you have a chance to snip at him, he pushes you back, walking backwards while he creeps closer. He grips your shoulder tighter and slams you to the wall he’s backed you into. His breath grows hot and wet against your skin, nose dangerously close to yours.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, huh?” He rasped, ice-blue eyes piercing into yours.
“I just got it before you, no need to freak out.” You murmured, hiding as much of the prominent fear in your throat as possible. He can’t know you’re scared. He can’t. He pushes harder on your shoulder, pressing it tight against the drywall.
“You know what, bitch? You don’t get in between me and my work, you got that?” He growls, veins beginning to throb from the bit of forehead you can see through his hair. The longer he stares, the more his expression shifts. The anger doesn’t fade, just something else immerges with it. You watch his gaze drop from your eyes to your lips before moving back to your eyes, mouth opening ever so slightly. You do just about the same.
His hand releases from your shoulder, slipping into the pocket on his jeans and he steps back, bowing his head low. Without a word, he steps over the body you left and leaves. Just gone.
“how to recognize AI in fanfic” — hey so this is another not-gentle reminder that AI stole from us. it’s using OUR words and OUR sentences and OUR styles.
writing “long” paragraphs is not a sign of AI — it’s a common narrative choice many writers make both in fanfiction and in traditionally published novels, and AI stole it from us.
using an em dash is not a sign of AI. it’s a stylistic sentence choice that’s been an option in place of commas and semicolons for a very long time, and AI stole it from us.
long sentence structures are not a sign of AI, but are yet another stylistic choice writers often make to create a cadence and tone that mimics the flow of poetry, and AI stole it from us.
“YA narrative breaks”? i don’t even know what the fuck this means, but i can guarantee that AI stole it from us.
italics are once again a stylistic choice that many writers love to use to create emphasis, and it’s a more stylistically acceptable and traditional form of emphasis than bold or underline text. oh, and just to be extra clear: AI STOLE IT FROM US.
stop creating fandom witch hunts over AI when you know fuck all about what it means to sit and write a story, and to spend hours fiddling with sentence structure and dialogue to get the exact right tone. writers will stop writing out of fear that their work “sounds like AI” — IT DOESNT! AI STOLE FROM US! AI SOUNDS LIKE US! — and after a while, all that will be available on AO3 is shitty AI-generated fanfiction.
because yeah, people are going to continue to use AI to write fanfiction whether you “call them out” or not. but making a laughable thread on X that uses asinine criteria is not going to fix that problem. it will just push the real writers out because people will accuse them of using AI when they haven’t, and they will (rightfully) stop writing for spaces that attack them.
Can you do Jeff, BEN, and Toby with a popular, girly, Regina George like reader? Like a high school AU or something, idk idk :( Buttt, yea! Could you write that, pretty please? I luv ur writing! And if you do write it TYSM! 💗౨ৎ
AUTHOR'S NOTE; there's so many ways to write this which is why I was lowk yapping the whole time... Ignore that LMAO but just a quick disclaimer I mostly focused on the reader being a popular girl in school+based her off of Regina George which is why there's implications that her friends are shitty people. As for the girly part I already wrote something similar to that with the same characters which is why I'm going to link it instead :) and the characterization for the creeps is slightly different than usual because they are written as teenagers! If I were to rewrite this with their adult selves it'd be different. The point was to make this a tiny bit offensive with their sexist views towards feminine women and also them just being childish and horny.
WARNINGS; JEFF IS A WARNING/MENTIONS OF BULLYING/BRIEF MENTIONS OF SNUFF FILMS/SLIGHTLY SUGGESTIVE BUT NOT REALLY/IMPLIED ABLEISM
*JEFF, BEN, AND TOBY WITH GIRLY AND FEMININE READER!
JEFFREY;
-The possibilities of this highschool au are endless… I don‘t know whether I should follow along with Jeff’s canon backstory and write him as his not-traumatized self before he absolutely lost his shit, just a little grown up or similar to the slendermansion au Jeff with a couple of tweaks to make this man being in highschool instead of a mental hospital believable… decisions decisions…
-I’ll leave it up to the reader’s imagination but let’s just say he still has a stable relationship with Liu.
-That being said, you are his only friend besides his brother. Not even in a ‘his creepy and unsettling ways push everyone away from him’ type of way like Ben’s, he‘s just incredibly narcissistic and thinks that trying to build a meaningful connection with his classmates is a waste of time.
-Mixed feelings about you being the most popular girl in school, like fuck yeah that’s my girlfriend but also gets annoyed by how many people have the audacity to ask for your number knowing you‘re in a relationship. Don’t worry, he‘ll fight them all.
-Invite him to a house party and he‘ll be there in a heartbeat. This can go two ways… either he‘s by your side the entire time guard dog style, hand placed firmly on your waist as he glares down any pricks who think they have the chance to even strike up a conversation with you, or he‘s doing lines in the bathroom, maybe passed out in the backyard after having way too much alcohol.
-Which is kinda ironic considering Jeff used to hate parties but he warmed up to the idea after you started forcing taking him with you.
-You shouldn’t let him pick your outfits for school… it may sound like a cute idea but his choices will definitely get you dress coded.
-He‘s the type of guy to tug on your hair during class. It’s a distraction but it‘s not like you were paying attention anyway.
-Let’s you walk up the stairs before him so he can take a peak under your skirt/dress.
BEN DROWNED;
-If Ben was in highschool he‘d definitely be like… you know that one classmate that everyone avoids for some reason so you decide to give them a chance only to find out why people avoided them in the first place? Yeah, that‘s Ben. He‘s weird, unsettling, and his interests only help push people away even further. The last guy that felt bad for Ben and decided to sit next to him during break time ran away because for some reason our social reject over here thought it‘d be a great idea to give a potentially new friend snuff film recommendations like 10 minutes after meeting them.
-Your typical popular girl and her loser boyfriend with no social life trope. Which is pretty much gonna be all of them, just a couple minor differences.
-Due to your high status in school, he thinks that you‘re in a relationship with him because it’s a bet or a joke between you and your friends but you dress like a slut and Ben is a pig so… claims that ‘he‘s letting it slide’ because a cruel joke is worth it if it means he gets to oogle at a girl‘s body without getting called out for it, plus you give him good head. Even if your intentions with this relationship are genuine.
-Asshole behavior. Like I’m telling you people avoid him for a reason.
-Despite that, he craves your validation. He’s not actually ‘letting it slide’ as he claims, your approval means the world to him.
-Your friends wonder why you decided to go out with Ben of all people. It‘ll start a couple of arguments because of their disapproval, up to you if you want to risk your popularity and social status for Ben or pretend like you‘re only doing it as a joke which could potentially hurt his feelings if he ever found out.
-The fact that you are dating him gives his ego a never ending boost. Also a hypocrite, hates ugly men who think they‘re the shit after scoring a hot girl like that isn’t literally him lmao.
TICCI TOBY;
-Same thing with Toby, either he‘s homeschooled like the original story or we can just completely ignore that and say he managed to put up with the bullying, enough for him to stay in public school. However this is a highschool au after all so it‘d be better to go with the latter, makes my job easier. ALSO LYRA IS STILL ALIVE.
-Similar to Ben but also not really— you see, the case with Ben is everyone thinks he’s weird, so they avoid him. But not outright bullying that gets physical which is what happens with Toby. I won‘t elaborate on the bullying part in Toby’s because we all know how that‘s like, but you being his girlfriend sort of created a shield between him and his bullies. The people who make fun of him are probably your very friends, which yeah they‘d 100% disapprove of your relationship but they can‘t really harass their leader’s boyfriend now can they?
-Doesn’t completely stop but it‘s nothing beyond a couple of dirty stares. Hey, at least no one makes fun of his tics now so that‘s that. He‘s grateful that you made his highschool experience a little bearable.
-Not gonna lie he probably hated you at first… yikes. Thought you were one of those popular girls who quite honestly don’t deserve all the hype because of their shitty attitude but apparently everyone is too blind to realize that they‘re not the greatest people around, even if that isn‘t true and you‘re actually a good person. Has definitely judged you based off of your appearance.
-That changed after you started standing up for him. The entire school follows your word, so once you told someone to quit picking on Toby, people just followed suit even if they found it to be a little odd of you.
-He might go to like one party because he doesn’t want his girlfriend to go alone but he ended up hating it. It just wasn‘t him, you were kind enough to understand though.
-His sister was definitely surprised that you decided to go out with her brother. Her judgement was similar to Toby’s, but it quickly changed after seeing your true intentions. Lyra grows to absolutely love you over time, tells Toby to invite you over so the three of you can have a sleepover with Toby possibly third wheeling, or turning into a lab rat because you two keep trying out different makeup looks and hairstyles on him.
kianamaiart
tangentwithtanner
snowghoul
izzy806
discoholicmusic
andulkaphoto
theartofmadeline
dededos
turnnoffyourmind
