#THREADS. [ And the weak must be culled! - Staci ]

[survivoirs]

@cryptidsdad ❛ relax, and just let me kiss you. ❜ - hm … for staci

Staci couldn't help but squirm a bit underneath Robert's body. Hips rolling up into the other man's in light desperation to get some sort of friction between them despite the layers of clothing. Staci's uniform shirt was fully unbuttoned and messily parted so he could feel the heat of Robert's bared flesh as they laid chest to chest in Staci's bed. Pratt had 'arrested' Robert after getting off his shift. Only it was Staci who had his left wrist cuffed to the headboard above him. Pratt had groaned in light frustration equally mixed with amusement. "God, you're so fucking hot," he huffed, arching to try to recapture the older man's lips in another kiss, only to have a hand on his chest stop him while Robert sat back on Staci's thighs for a moment.

❛ relax, and just let me kiss you. ❜

"I'm trying to do that," Staci pointed out with a smirk, only to pause when Robert leaned down to press hot lips against his chest. Pratt let out a soft breath as Robert's mouthed over his collarbone, up over to the side of his neck where he spent a long moment sucking a mark to the surface and earning a low groan from the deputy who had slid his hand underneath Robert's waistband to grip and knead at the man's ass. "You better hope my cuff key is in my pants pocket," Staci laughed lightly before teasing his fingers closer to the crevice. "You might have to feel around for it."

[letsbreakhearts]

@adventuriem​ asked: 

❝  i used to have so much faith.  maybe not in deities or something but,  in the world.  the universe.  i believed their was a purpose to it all.  i’m not sure when i lost that.  ❞ (from nicole to pratt)

(Random ic-ask: Always accepting) 

                            A purpose. 

                                            Faith! 

           It all sounded too close to the rhetoric this cult used that Staci could listen to it without a frown on his face, even though he knew what she meant. 

           “I once had faith in the law and in reinforcement of it. Now, I am not so sure of that either. All I hope for is to get out of here in one piece.”, he confessed with a weak half smile which was supposed to be reassuring but came off as very forced. But even though it all seemed hopeless, there still was a silver lining at the horizon because, as long as they stuck together, they could make it through all of this madness.

[survivoirs]

@wrathiincarnate “you really don’t have to do that, not for me.” FOR STACI

"Yes I do," Staci urged, boot toeing at the wrapped up cloth on the ground to push it closer to Emmet between the bars of his cage. Pratt glanced around nervously. The next patrol would be passing through in the next three minutes if he had his timing down right. Even under the thumb of Jacob, Staci couldn't help but see so much around the Veteran's center. He paid attention. Vigilance becoming a state he was unable to turn off as a form of survival. As exhausting as that was. Inside the cloth was a small piece of bread and a chunk of rabbit thigh, still slightly warmed from when it was cooked. Emmet's concern was warranted, of course. If Staci were caught stealing food and helping the Rookie Deputy like this, he would be punished severely, if not worse. Various bruises of varying stages of healing on his face and arms in the form of defensive wounds painted a picture of some of the ways the cultist made lessons stick.

"You - You gotta eat, Rook," Staci, whispered, pleading but unable to look Emmet in the eyes as he curled his fingers around the bars of the cage. A small sound off in the distance made Staci jump, panic in his eyes as he looked around. He appeared much like what the rabbit must have looked like as it was being hunted. On edge. Feeling the approach of death. Of course, realistically the project's hunters had been swift and the creature had never seen it coming. Not like Staci, he could vividly picture everything that could be done to him because he'd seen it done to so many people already. Finally, Pratt looked Emmet in the eyes. The young deputy's brown eyes looked traumatized. That was the only way to describe the look. "You gotta keep your strength up, Rook," he urged. Tongue felt heavy, getting stuck in his throat to the point he couldn't get his words out for a moment. They need you strong. Jacob needs you strong. Jacob has plans for you. He couldn't warn him. No matter how much he tried. He just hoped the Jr Dep would understand. Surely, right? Unlikely with how cryptic and frantic he seemed. Oh how Jacob had dug so deep into his brain.

"You must be strong. The weak -- the weak must be culled," he whispered still but his tone grew gravelly and he sounded like he had a growl stuck deep in his throat. "Do you -- You you understand, right, Rook?" He smiled nervously, nodding quickly. He looked unwell. Unstable. Like he might fully lose it or even burst into tears if Emmet didn't right now reach down and scarf down the food Pratt had smuggled him.

[survivoirs]

@cryptidsdad “is this how you flirt with everyone?” - for staci

"Only the really gorgeous ones I plan on taking home with me for the night," Staci quipped bodly, cocky smile on his lips as he ran his fingertips over some of the small scars of Robert's hand resting on the bartop. Honey whiskey brown eyes stared up at the older man with sheer confidence, boarding on smugness. He seemed pretty damn sure of himself that he'd have no trouble picking Robert up that night. Bold yes but it wasn't like they had just met tonight. Sure it hadn't been long but Staci knew when to drive things home pretty well. And he wasn't going to let up now, not unless Robert made it clear he wasn't interested. "Who knows, I might even let you use my handcuffs on me," he glanced up from Robert's lips to the man's eyes, teeth pinning his own bottom lip briefly before rose his brow.

[survivoirs]

Every muscle in his body was sore from how much he’d tensed. Now only made worse by not being able to move from this position or stretch. Pratt’s chair had tipped over onto its side sometime after his first trial had ended. He’d survived. His brain wasn’t fried. His heart hadn’t given out. He’d been one of the few lucky ones. Only the other few that had passed had already been dragged back to their cages several hours ago. He couldn’t even tell how much time had passed as there was to way to see if it was dark or light outside but the bliss had worn off so time had passed in general.

Arms, torso and legs remained bound even after his tumble. Lights flashed over his face slowly as the slideshow images played through once again. Dirty face had streaks of clearer skin down and sides across his face where tears had paved the way before drying. He hadn’t even been able to wipe them away with his wrists snug against the arms of his chair. 

“Weak...weak...weak...” Pratt had been mumbling to himself quietly with his eyes closed, unable to let himself fall asleep, too scared he’d relive last night in his dreams. There were four or five people strapped to chairs around the room, failed attempts at their first trials. Cold and dead. Pratt didn’t want to look at them. Didn’t want their images burned into his memories more than he already had. 

The door swung open slowly and a familiar voice tore his eyes open. A wolf with a bloody maw flickered onto the projector screen, sending light casting over Jacob Seed standing inside the doorway. 

Pratt startled to struggle frantically against his bonds despite the pain it had started to bring him. Despite how exhausted he felt. “J-Jacob. Jacob please. Let me out. Please don’t leave me in here with them,” Pratt begged, his voice cracking as he tried to hold back a sob. “I’m sorry,” he sniffed, not even knowing what he was apologizing for. Anything. Everything. Anything that would make this stop. “I’ll make the -- make the recording. I’ll record the message. Just let me out.”  @purposeserved​​