I’m Going To Rant About This Whole Thing Now. The Fact That He Removed The Post AGAIN. Because Of All

Follow You || Prologue || Eyeless Jack

syn: Eyeless Jack has found himself becoming more isolated over the years, distancing himself from everyone and everything. He considers himself an unforgivable monster, one that shouldn’t be a burden to anyone else. After leaving Slender’s mansion and wondering aimlessly through the woods, he stumbles upon a drunken girl in danger. After saving you, he finds himself completely infatuated with you. You’re strikingly similar to him, even attending his old college. He battles an internal debate as he falls for you, deciding whether or not to burden you by staying. While Jack fights his internal turmoil, old enemies from an all too familiar college come out to play. Will Jack be able to defeat his oldest enemy? Will he be able to overcome his self conscious fears to save you? You’d better hope so, since the cult for Chernabog is back and you seem like the perfect sacrifice.

tw: depression

a/n: welcome to the beginning my loves. im sinking my teeth into this slow burn novel and plan on spending lots of time crafting it. enjoy :)

There was a certain emptiness that resonated in Jack’s chest. The kind of emptiness one can’t ignore or wash away. The kind that consumed your mind, body, and soul. The kind that Jack couldn’t escape, no matter how hard he tried.

Jack considered himself a very run of the mill person. If you took away the demon that controlled a majority of his life, he wasn’t interesting. On the inside he was still the same nerdy bookworm who loved the art of medicine. He hated that his one true passion was overshadowed by the monster he had become. Leafs crunched beneath his heavy boots, the dim moonlight illuminating his path. Jack spent nights like this, wandering aimlessly in the shadows of the night. He traveled beyond Slender’s forest, into human trails. He didn’t fear being seen, for his mask and ominous jet black hoodie concealed the freak that he was.

It wasn’t as if Jack hadn’t tried. He had tried to get better. To feel better. He did everything he could to flesh out his time. He even went as far as to become the mansion's doctor, signing himself up for twenty four hours a day care for any proxy or creep in need. Most of the time he saw the proxies, who tended to get wounded the most. At first he was fascinated, consumed with the notion that his work would be meaningful in the long run. That maybe with hands-on experience he would be able to complete his college education, even if it wasn’t in the traditional way. Jack soon discovered his wishes were too far from reality, a majority of his efforts being spent restraining himself from devouring the proxies' organs. He had lost count of how many times Masky or Hoodie had stumbled into his lab, with the same stereotypical gunshot wound or stab wound. Their injuries became like clock work to him, the smell of their exposed wounds beginning to not even faze him anymore.

Jack supposed this was a good thing, if he were to ever be around normal humans. He didn’t count on it, his hideous appearance one that would forever restrain him from living any form of a normal life. Jack cringed at the memories of his transition, his face twisting in disgust as he recalled his first moments of being reborn. Slaughtering and terrorizing the cult that had sacrificed him didn’t bother him necessarily, what bothered him was what occurred afterwards. With black tar trailing down his face and mangled flesh in between his teeth, Jack went on to attack and kill any breathing specimen whose heartbeat he would hear. This included many innocent’s houses, ones with babies and children. Jack’s stomach churned at the memory of how hard he had to fight himself to not tear apart the children's chest. At the time Jack had no self control and had no will to form one. It wasn’t until Slenderman found him that he managed to calm down. 

Jack was the first creep Slenderman found, even if the demon was in figurative pieces. Truthfully Jack’s loyalty to him was founded once the supernatural creature taught him self control in his new form. Jack knew that the entity was far from a good being. Logically he knew he was most likely a science project for the blank faced creature who walked the Earth alone. As time went on and he founded the mansion, his proxies, etc, Jack knew Slendeman wasn’t a good being. He wasn’t some guardian angel. He was a monster who thrived off of power. He may have logically known this, but due to The Operator unintentionally saving Jack from slaughtering hundreds upon hundreds of innocent beings, he was a devoted follower who gave him his loyalty willingly. The Operator was not a fan of Jack’s existential crisis. Although he respected the eyeless man, he could never understand the humanity that stuck with him even in his new form. Jack and him were like opposite sides of a coin, never quite understanding the other but more similar than they truly could comprehend.

Jack shook his shoulders, attempting to stop his thoughts from spiraling again. This is how it always went. The demon would recall his horrific and boring life, then question how it started, then rinse and repeat. Sometimes his wandering thoughts varied to his relationships with others. Like how in an odd way he was fond of the ghost girl Sally or how much he despised hearing Jeff speak for more than ten seconds. Somehow he had landed himself in a position where they were his only friends, even if he couldn’t stand the pale faced killer. 

These late night walks were always just for pondering, Jack trying to get himself on some form of a schedule when it came to his meals. As time progressed he realized there was no way around it and no way over it: he had to consume human organs. He had tried everything. Animal organs, any and all kinds of blood, human food, human organs that were kept at the hospitals nearby. He even tried to starve himself to death. He found that nothing satisfied him more than harvesting fresh organs no matter how much he hated it. No matter how much Jack despised the craving that controlled his life, he was a slave to it. His attempts at starvation were pointless, the demons rampage far worse if he was starving. So Jack tried to be as humane as possible, even if it caused him more physical problems then it may be worth it to others. He killed at the beginning of the week, preserving his meals throughout the week. The rest of the week he spent his time like this, aimlessly pondering and allowing himself to be consumed with his thoughts and regret.

Usually these nights went just like this, uneventful and in the end nothing productive could be said about them. He knew he’d go home, only to have a proxy to patch up or Jeff to bug him to death. While trivial and unamusing, Jack had accepted his fate. He was doomed to an eternity of gore and mundane tasks, just to fill up the endless time. After all, isn’t this what he deserved? Didn’t he deserve to-

Sniff sniff.

Unable to control his nose twitching he froze, the forest seemingly falling silent. Jack inhaled deeply, attempting to place the source of the scent. It wasn’t one he was unfamiliar with, quite the contrary. The sweet metallic scent of human blood flooded his nostrils, the demon inside of him unable to contain its satisfaction just from the mere smell. He turned his head towards the direction of the smell, inhaling once more. Although he should’ve been hauling himself in the opposite direction, Jack couldn’t have been anymore intrigued. A wounded human in this neck of the woods? How far away from civilization could one have mindlessly stumbled? 

More sinister theories began to emerge from the darker parts of his mind the longer he pondered. Were you a victim of violence? Being dumped and left in the forest to rot? Jack shivered at the thought, this time focusing on his acute sense of hearing. To his surprise he only heard one heartbeat, although faint. Before he could stop himself he was hauling his body over to the source. His curiosity had gotten the best of him, all logical and rule following gone out of the window. Jack didn’t enjoy many things about his being, but he did enjoy his speed. With his height and animalistic abilities, his unnatural speed was much faster than any other being he had encountered this far. The metallic scent was a trail he could follow without any trouble, his feet carrying him to his mystery. 

Jack wasn’t sure what he had anticipated on seeing. The blood was fresh, but you weren’t oozing with the stuff either. He came to an abrupt halt at the sight of you, the human in question. In a small clearing with the moonlight’s grace, he was able to make out your small form. A backpack was strapped to your back, your hair tangled and messy. Your makeup was smudged, your knees bleeding from a presumed fall. In your hand was a large stick, one you were struggling to even hold correctly. Your soft doe eyes were narrowed with fierceness, focused on the wild animal before you. A stray coyote, one thin and battling with starvation Jack presumed, was circling you like worthless prey. Jack hadn’t accounted for his affect on the ecosystem of this forest, but perhaps he had gone a little too out of hand with his hunting.

He could make out the coyotes bones through its fur, its teeth snarled as it growled at you. Jack could hear the pounding of your heartbeat, the way it smacked against your ribcage. Although he knew he may be hanged for his crime of exposure, Jack found himself stepping out of the shadows. An animalistic growl brewed in the bottom of his throat, his teeth bared beneath his mask. The coyote’s attention was immediately diverted to the demon, who stood tall and dangerous as he intimidated the animal. The coyote visibly shuddered at the sight of Jack, turning on its heels and darting off into the forest. A small sigh of relief left Jacks lips. He wouldn’t need to traumatize you by tearing apart a live animal before you. His gaze returned to you, your eyes widened with fear. You stumbled backwards, your back hitting the tree.

With each step Jack took towards you he could smell the scent of alcohol getting stronger. Ahh, a drunk college student. “It’s not smart to be here this time of night,” Jack said, his voice deeper than he intended it to be. His noted the way your face relaxed at the sound of his voice. “Who made youuu the ruler of the forest?” You slurred, unsteadily propping yourself up against the tree. Jack cringed at the sight of dirt and filth coating your open wounds on your legs, swallowing as he approached you. “I don’t flatter myself that much. What’d you do to yourself?” He questioned, pointing at your knees. At the sight of his gray skin you stumbled towards him, your touch warm and soft as you grabbed his hand. “Ohhh you have argyria. That must suck,” You mumbled. You must’ve assumed Jack couldn’t hear your comment. Maybe he couldn’t have, if his hearing wasn’t so acute. He hesitated as you examined his skin, seemingly amazed to see it. Arygria did in fact make one’s skin a gray color, but no where near as dark as his. Had you only read about it?

“How do you know what argyria is?” Jack found himself asking. Of course he knew what it was, medicine was his bread and butter. He wasn’t trying to judge you based on appearances, but you were a drunken girl in a skimpy dress in the middle of a forest at a presumed two am. “I study medicine, sir. I’m gonna be a doctor one day!” You proclaimed, a goofy smile spreading across your lips. A college student. It was slowly making sense, even if Jack couldn’t reason why you were stranded in the middle of no where like this. He ignored the way his stomach jumped at being called sir, pulling his hand away. “Thats great. Do you know which direction you came from? You need to go home,” Jack said, diverting the conversation to go in the direction it should go. Maybe he wouldn’t technically be breaking any rules if you didn’t recall this conversation in the morning. That had to count for something, right? You giggled as you put your hand over your eyes, spinning in a circle. You out stretched your arm, extending your pointer finger. 

Jack watched curiously as you drunkenly landed on a random direction when you finally came to some form of a halt. “That way!” You declared, a wide grin on your face. Jack tilted the head to the side as you stumbled in the random direction, awkwardly tripping over your own feet and falling onto the ground. He watched your consciousness slip away, your captivating eyes fluttering shut. Your pulse and heartbeat were still even, your breath not shallow. He tilted his head to the side, studying you as if you were a puppy. He looked both directions, ensuring there were no observers before he picked you up. Carelessly he threw you over his shoulder, carrying you as if you were as light as a feather. Jack had intended on patching you up and being on his way. Truthfully, that was his plan. Little did he know he signed up for far more than he bargained for.

A quick venting session about smth rq

I’m so fucking sick of these weird parasocial “fans” of Nicholas Chavez on TikTok. Like every second video I see is some hun all up in his and Victorias business. Like leave them the fuck alone bruh. It’s like ppl are trying to find any reason to hate on Victoria and their relationship and are like… desperate to see them broken up. It’s so fucking annoying lmaoooo like these people do not give a fuck about yall and you’re making it your life’s mission to be a cunt like 😭😭😭

And it so clearly comes from a place of jealousy too. They want Nicholas so bad so they try and run his relationship. Like grow the fuck up.

this is so flipping real

I just want Nicholas Alexander Chavez to whip his dick out and slap me in the face with it.

still thinking about this

THIRD TIME - 06. conundrum

pairing ☆ rafe cameron x reader

WARNINGS: rise of toxic rafe..

WORD COUNT: 1.9K

TAGLIST: open! comment or send in an ask

series masterlist. previous

conundrum. (noun) an intricate and difficult problem

Rafe Cameron was never one to second-guess himself. At least, that’s what he liked to believe. But this morning, as he sat in his truck just a block from your house, the usual persona he carried felt.. wrong. Last night’s event played on a loop in his head – from the moment he touched your shoulder to the kitchen, and well, to the couch. (And the small talk in your room but he doesn’t want to think about that.)

He hated how much he seemed to want your attention, seemingly deprived of it; your presence was wanted. Needed. But more than that, it wasn’t even in his own control – which pissed him off.

It was your fault.

If you hadn’t been so… you. He wouldn’t have been sitting here, going mental in his truck for the past ten minutes. He pulled out of the spot and drove aimlessly, needing a place to just forget about you, and his confusing emotions. (As if it was going to work.)

While Rafe was in his truck near your block (which you were completely unaware of), you were trying your best to forget everything. Everything from last night was quite haunting and traumatizing, as it resurfaced when you woke up. 

You woke up with a wince from a sharp feeling near your pelvic area. Too rough last night. Sighing, you registered that you had to forget at some point – so you spent the time doing every little thing possible. Hopefully, you could put aside the heavy feeling that had settled in your chest since the moment he left your house last night, but obviously: it didn’t work.

After a few moments of moping here and there, you decided to get ready to go to the cafe again. Partly hoping the serene place could keep you at bay from such loud thoughts, but also hoping that you could run into him again.

Meanwhile, about a good 20 minutes ago, Rafe found himself at the exact cafe before he even realized where he was headed. He stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room instinctively. Maybe you were there ordering or sitting down and already taking sips.

But obviously you weren't there. (You were busy muttering to yourself about the still-damp floor from last night’s piles of towels.)

The disappointment that followed made him scowl. What was he even doing here? Chasing after someone who he clearly mentioned he didn’t want to go further with? He ended up ordering a drink and sat at one of the corner tables, his long legs stretched out in front of him as he tapped his fingers impatiently against the cup.

Time was passing and his frustration grew. He hated waiting. If anything, people were supposed to wait for him. Not the other way around. He hated feeling like he was on the losing side of whatever game this was. (In your mind, he already lost.)

Heavily disappointed, he left the cafe with his now-cold drink in hand – climbing back into the truck and yelled at himself, punching the steering wheel. (It gained him a few staring eyes, so he yelled at them, too.) However, he didn’t drive away. He sat in his truck, hopeful that you would appear.

And indeed you did.

You arrived about a good five minutes after he had another truck meltdown in the parking lot. You ordered your usual coffee and found a seat by the window. (The one where he sat, but you wouldn’t know that.) The sunlight streaming through the glass was warm, but it did little to thaw the cold knot in your stomach.

You started to realize that you don't mind spending a day without his presence. It was back to silence. Peace. And much needed solitude. (Alas, note that this was a partial lie to yourself.)

But Rafe’s peace was disturbed. He saw you enter the cafe, book in hand and a smile to your face. Oh, that smile. He ignored it. He made it clear that he did not have any interest in you, but seeing you again was making his chest tighten with a mix of irritation and something he didn’t want to name.

Repetitively telling himself to leave, and that he didn’t need to see you, he couldn’t do much except to groan to himself and stay put in his truck.

But then he started getting angrily irritated. Fingers clenching the steering wheel tight, his toxic streak was soaring. Why were you able to be unaffected while he was stuck feeling like this? 

You sat at the place for nearly an hour, flipping through the book you brought with you, but you weren’t really reading it. Your gaze wandered to the door occasionally, a flicker of something you wouldn’t admit to yourself, sparking every time it opened. You wanted to see him. Badly.

Eventually, you checked the time to see that you’d spent almost an hour in here, and left. Deciding a walk might help untangle the thoughts in your head, you walked forward with no particular destination in mind.

In the meantime, Rafe didn’t know why he waited until you were halfway down the block before he started his truck to follow you. His first thought was to get out of the truck and start a conversation with you once he saw you (finally) leave the cafe. But then his pettiness overcame him. So he wanted to see if you noticed him, if you cared enough to turn back.

You didn’t.

He ended up driving slowly and cautiously, his irritation building with every step. What were you even doing? (How you haven’t noticed his loud ass truck following you for the past three minutes, is the more important question.) Wandering around like you didn’t have a care in the world, like you haven’t been knowing that you were completely torturing him through levels of emotional pain? (You didn’t know.)

He almost called out to you but stopped himself. You wouldn’t want to hear what he had to say right now. And he understood you. Not really.

You stopped at the docks near your house again, sitting on one of the benches near a tree. You tilted your head back, letting the cool breeze wash over you with closed eyes. For a moment, you let yourself imagine a life where things were simpler – a life where things would’ve been different. Where you would’ve never met Rafe Cameron.

But the image of him kept creeping in, uninvited and unwelcome. Letting out a dramatic sigh, you kept your head back and eyes closed. You felt at ease, and this is what you wanted.

Rafe was watching you from across the street, openly leaning against his truck. He felt like an idiot (and a creep), just standing there. But he couldn’t really seem to walk away.

He hated how you made him feel last night – raw, exposed, like every part of that you touched felt so fictitious.

Reaching in his pocket to light a cigarette, he didn’t notice how you saw him after you got up from the bench to go back home. He’d forgotten that he was even there, until he looked up and his eyes stayed locked on yours across the street. 

It pissed him off. You weren’t supposed to look this pretty. He hated how you made him feel. He hated you now.

The sharp sound of your voice cut through his thoughts, startling him.

“Rafe?”

His stomach twisted (in delight and resentment).

You were already crossing the street, approaching him and his truck. “What are you doing here?”

Rafe straightened, putting back his lighter and cigarette away, tossing it into the truck from the open window. “I could ask you the same thing.”

You stared at him incredulously, with your arms crossed. “I live near here.”

He snorted, a humorless sound. “Well good for you. But I didn't realize I needed an excuse to be here.”

“You do when you’re lurking in the street, staring at people like a creep,” you snapped. 

“Staring at people?” He let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head. “Don’t flatter yourself, Y/N. I wasn’t looking for you.” (Cue the realization that there was not a single person at the docks this evening, so he looked like a pathetic liar. But you didn’t mention it.)

Your jaw tightened, the personal defiance sparking in your eyes. “Right. So it’s just a coincidence you’re here, watching me?”

“Believe what you want,” he shot back, his voice sharper than he intended with a slight croak to it. “But I wasn’t.”

“I will,” you said, stepping closer. “Because all you’ve ever done is prove me right about you.”

His smirk faltered, replaced by something colder. “Now, careful. I thought we already talked about knowing that you clearly don’t know what you’re talking about when it comes to me.”

“I know enough,” you countered, making sure to emphasize how your voice was laced with disdain. “I know you’re too petty and angry to deal with your own mess, so you make it everyone else’s problem. Like last night.”

He took a step forward, closing the gap between you in a heartbeat. “And you’re so perfect, aren’t you?” he hissed. “Always acting like you’re above it all. Well guess what, you’re not.”

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t back down. “At least I don’t waste my time going around trying to intimidate or fuck people into getting everything I want, just like you do.”

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, it seemed like he might snap. “You don’t know a single shit about me,” he growled. “But every single time, you act like you know shit.”

“Well I know enough to stay fucking away from you,” you fired back, voice heavy with restrained anger. You forgot that he was still Rafe Cameron. The infamous, ill-mannered boy in town.

“Then why don’t you?” he challenged, his tone venomous. “If I’m so toxic as you claim, why the fuck are you still talking to me?”

Your mouth opened, but no words came out. You weren’t even sure why you came over to talk to him in the first place. The air felt suffocating again, heavy with unspoken truths and lingering resentment.

Rafe’s gaze softened, just for a millisecond, but it was enough to make your chest tighten. He shook his head, as if trying to clear whatever thought had crossed his mind. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered, stepping back.

“You’re unbelievable,” you said, your voice quieter now but no less cutting.

“And you’re exhausting,” he snapped, climbing into his truck and slamming the door shut.

You stood frozen, watching as he started the engine. The roar of the truck engine echoed, but he didn’t drive off immediately. Instead, he rolled down the window, his expression unreadable.

“You think you’ve got me all figured out?” he said, his voice low but steady. “You don’t even know half of it. Was trying to find you to talk ‘bout last night, but I don’t even want to see your fucking face anymore.”

Before you could respond, he sped off, leaving you standing there with a storm of emotions you couldn’t untangle.

Anger, hurt, confusion – the undeniable pull you still felt toward him had dissipated. Leaving you only in disgust.

And as you turned back to walk home, you just couldn’t shake the feeling off.

You had officially gotten under his skin.

And he’d gotten under yours.

NOTE. oh someone save yn.. 😞 so sorry, but chapters will be less frequent now since work is loading up on me. but anyway!! tell me your thoughts.. love reading everyone's comments :')

TAGS. @urbrunettebombshell @rafesfavouritegirl @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @percysley @wtfdudesblog @fratbrochrisgf @rrosiitas @powpowjinxlife @ltristessedureratoujours

Pride and Prejudice 2005 ☼ dir. Joe Wright

oh, no, i wasn’t flirting! it’s just that my dark passenger recognized your dark passenger and for a moment i felt i’m not alone in this world.

they just like me fr 😭

Without giving me any spoilers besties.. was Nicholas in the new episode??? I’m going to watch it tonight.