Out of My Mind (Jason The Toymaker x Reader rewrite)

Chapter 1: Meyer's Toys and Trinkets

Emeralds, beautiful jewels that sparkled green.  Those were what I had chosen to be my favorite gemstone. I muttered it disinterestedly to my friend who sat at the end of my bed. They scribbled it down in a notepad and asked another question. I responded, equally as disinterested as before as I sketched on my homework page. my friend sighed, setting their notebook on the ground and shuffling behind me.

I paid them little mind, scribbling. An army of unblinking eyes appeared on the page, watching me. I froze.

"You're thinking about him again, aren't you, Y/N?"

I blushed, quickly flipping my page on its face and turning my attention to my nosey friend.

"Aren't you here to help me with this?" I ask, exasperated.

My friend chuckles at my response, sitting on the bed beside me.

"You're not actually doing the work" they pointed out, slipping the paper out from under my hand.

I had yet to answer a single question, instead filling the border of the worksheet with doodles.

"This obsession is unhealthy, Y/N," my friend pointed out, honest as ever. I snatched the page back with a huff and continued to doodle.

"It's not an obsession" I insisted, "you don't understand-".

It was very likely that my friend did, in fact, understand. I had explained it to them many times before. That toyshop in my hometown, the man that worked inside, and everything that happened.

I had been very young the first and last time I went into his shop. The smell was odd, like a mix of rot and peppermint. The twinkling of the bell on his door had startled him as I came through, my mother in tow. He sat at a desk up front, tinkering with a wind-up car. My mother gagged as we walked through the door, and he stared at the two of us.

"Y/N*," she'd muttered, trying to pull me back outside, "I... think they're closed honey. Why don't we get you a new doll from the mall-". The man at the counter raised an eyebrow at my mom before making eye contact with me.

"Welcome!" he greeted with a flamboyant gesture. He gave me a wide smile and stepped around the counter.

He dressed oddly, or, at least out of place for the time. A tophat and coat lay discarded on his counter, leaving him in a pale vest and dress shirt. My mother eyed him warily, pulling my wrist and hiding me behind her.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" he asked, approaching us with a steady stride.

"Um, yes-" Mom said, watching him. She pulled her phone from her pocket. "My daughter really wanted this doll," she said, pulling up a picture "do you have it?" The man glanced at her device and scoffed.

"If you're in search of mass-produced plastic-" he said, turning his back on her, "You've come to the wrong place. My shop tends to value quality over quantity. You see, everything on these shelves I have created with my own hands".

I gazed in astonishment at him. "You made all of this?" I asked him.

"Just another arrogant artist," Mom muttered. Jason turned around, sending a piercing stare at my mother. I gazed back at him, observing his eyes with fascination. They were golden.

"What was that?" the man began to ask in a low voice. I spoke without a thought as children often do.

"Your eyes are so pretty" I cooed, peaking around my mother. The man lit up at the compliment, staring back at me.

"Y/N," mom chided me quietly, forcing down her relief for the interruption "don't talk over grownups".

"Oh no, ma'am, it's perfectly alright," he said. He was suddenly at my side, bent over and staring into my soul with his golden eyes. "such a kind little girl" he said, inspecting me.