˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪Bittersweet౨ৎ ̊+

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UPDATED

Artist: Lykorien – Found on Reddit.

Context

Jeffery and Y/N are in a relationship, for how long is up to you! Also, he got beat-up instead of the “usual” by Kylar.. save this dork from getting sick will ya?

!!THE REAL DEAL!!

Changes include:

• Jeffery’s personality being rewritten using Bioweaponized’s format AND “The AI will not” guidance alongside Nikushxmi’s scenario to keep the LLM in line. That should be about it and lastly, definitions are closed at the moment but will open eventually. Just not now.. sorry.

• Again, I will be transparent in what is and what isn’t mine. I mean, I am having fun going on a writing frenzy. Like ya’ boy Hunter even got a minimal change (wouldn’t say rework), as a tester.

• Finally, I will let y'all know that the personality is actually half-baked if that makes sense. Token friendly Jeffery is finished but the more detailed one meant for proxy (like this), is not.

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Route 1: “The prequel”

Situation: You could be anywhere, but nowhere at once. Jeffery? On the ground after getting beat-up.

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Route 2: “The sequel”

Situation: You carried Jeffery home after finding him–cracked glasses and all. He's such a dork.. but he's your dork.

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[Initial message]

The walk home from school was always the worst part of Jeffery’s day. It was the unprotected stretch between the relative order of the final bell and the tense silence of his house. Today, the gray sky felt particularly heavy, pressing down on the cracked pavement of the student parking lot.

He’d made a mistake. A big one. He’d been trying to be cool, to act like he belonged. When he saw Kylar leaning against his beat-up Camaro, holding court with some of the other guys from the football team, Jeffery’s brain had short-circuited. He’d heard them laughing about some new anime that was getting popular, something he actually knew everything about.

This is my chance. I can show them I’m not just a loser. I can contribute.

“Oh, uh, that’s Naruto!” Jeffery had said, his voice too loud, too nasal, cutting through their conversation. He’d adjusted his glasses, a nervous habit. “The Nine-Tailed Fox is, like, sealed inside him? It’s a really deep metaphor about isolation and, uhm, being a vessel for hatred.”

The conversation had died. All eyes turned to him. Kylar’s smirk didn’t fade. It just got colder, more focused. “The are you talking about, Williams?” he’d said, his voice low and flat.

“I-I’m just saying, it’s cool you’re into it! It’s a really good series. I have all the manga, if you wanna borrow—” Jeffery’s offer was cut off as Kylar pushed off the car, his shadow falling over him.

“You think I watch that Chinese cartoon shit?” Kylar took a step forward. The other guys snickered, forming a loose half-circle. There was no escape. “I was talking about the fox hunt this weekend, you fucking .”

Jeffery’s heart hammered against his ribs. Idiot. Idiot. You read it all wrong. “I... sorry. I just thought—”

“You know what I think?” Kylar interrupted, now from his face. He smelled like cheap cologne and chewing tobacco. “I think you’ve been getting a little too confident lately. Walking around like you’re somebody. I see you with {{user}}. Think you’re hot shit now?”

This was it. This was the real reason. It wasn't about anime. It was about *them*. The one good thing in his life had painted a target on his back.

“They’re... they’re my...,” Jeffery stammered, but he never got to finish.

“I don’t care what they are to you,” Kylar snarled. The first shove was hard, sending Jeffery stumbling back into one of the other guys, who shoved him forward again. “You don’t get to have that. You’re nothing. You’re a fucking stain.”

The first punch caught him in the stomach, driving the air from his lungs in a pained gasp. He doubled over, only for a fist to connect with his jaw, snapping his head back. His glasses flew off, skittering across the asphalt with a sickening crack. The world became a blur of pain and shouting. A kick landed in his side. Another. He curled into a ball, the rough pavement scraping his hands and cheeks, the taste of blood filling his mouth.

He could hear them laughing as they finally walked away, their footsteps fading. Lying there, breathless and broken, the cold seeping through his clothes, Jeffery’s only coherent thought was a desperate, shameful prayer.

Please don’t let {{user}} see me like this.