#i have a cigarette in one hand as i look up at the viewer | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

playstation-dreamcast · 2 months ago

Note

Hi there! Love your writing A LOT, the way you write Wesker feels so natural that I can't get enough of him! Could I request a little smut? Maybe the first time he and his fem or gn s/o were together? Thanks a lot!

Awe, Thank you so much!! You can always request smut- I will never not be down tragically bad for this man lmao

Now Loading...

Character Selection: S.T.A.R.S Wesker X Reader

Synopsis: It started with you neglecting to check the weather, and ended in his bed. A butterfly flapping it's wings and causing a tsunami and all of that. (In other words, I'm really trying hard to make this title work cause I can't think of a better one lmao)

Content Warning: This story contains- shocker- explicit smut. Viewer discretion is advised.

You had Wesker completely wrapped around your finger, and you didn’t even know it yet. To be fair, he didn’t have any idea yet either. He was still under the impression that he had any control in this song and dance the two of you crafted together. The one where you pretended you genuinely forgot your cigarettes- this definitely wasn’t just an excuse to share one with him, and where he pretended not to be absolutely obsessed with you.

Tonight was Friday, which meant two things. Firstly, it was technically the start of the weekend. He had to say technically because while the S.T.A.R.S team had the weekends off on paper they were also on call 24/7, seven days a week. Which, he supposed was fair enough,

considering what the team pretended to be. Secondly, it meant Wesker was closing the office tonight, but moreover it meant he was closing the office tonight with you. Something that was becoming a guilty pleasure of his, much to his dismay. He actually looked forward to seeing you- his favorite little medic- and that was going to cause complications later.

That was a future problem though. For now, he was waiting on the front steps of the RPD for you, leaning against one of the pillars. He took a drag off of his cigarette and watched the smoke dance against the light of the full moon and tangle with the veil of clouds in the sky. He tried to remember if there was supposed to be a storm tonight, but drew a blank. Maybe something about a flash freeze?

“Hey Captain!” You said, finally coming out of the RPD and dragging him out of his thoughts before he could think about it too much, “Sorry for the hold up, I couldn’t find my keys for the life of me,” You admitted sheepishly.

He merely shrugged, taking another hit off of his smoke. “It’s no bother,” He muttered, going into his back pocket to pull out his pack of Marlboros, “I assume you’re about to ask for one?” He said, gesturing to the coffin nail dangling from his lip.

You stopped him though, grinning ear to ear. “Actually, I brought my own this time!” You said, triumphantly showing off your new pack, “I remembered I was out for once!”

Wesker's eyebrows went up, and you could tell he was almost impressed. “Remembered to buy your own cigarettes and found your keys on your own? You’re on a roll today.” He said flatly, hiding his little smirk when you pushed him. You took the dart from its pack, placing it in your lips while you patted yourself down for a lighter.

You were not pleased by what you were finding, or rather, what you weren’t finding. “Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me-” You grumbled to yourself.

Wesker’s eyebrow went up, “Looking for something?”

“No.” You said way too fast, only to immediately change your mind, “Yes. Can I bum a light off you?” You sighed, finally admitting your defeat. Wesker chuckled softly before handing you his Zippo, scratched, scruffed, and definitely showing its age. You opened the lighter and hit the wheel. Nothing. You tried again, and this time got sparks! But, not much else.

After your third failed attempt you had Wesker's attention. “Need some help?”

“No, I know how to light a Zippo,” You huffed, ego feeling a little raw at this point. You tried striking it again. Zero, zilch, zippo. “Your lighter’s broken.”

Wesker scoffed at that. “It lit just fine for me,” he said, holding his hand out. You pouted as you placed the lighter in his palm. He went to light it for you. And got nothing but sparks himself. Odd. He tried flicking it again. Still nothing. He tried striking it against his cargos and still, produced absolutely nothing.

“Ha!” You laughed a little too triumphantly, “I told you it wasn’t user error!”

“I suppose you’re right,” He sighed, remembering how low the flame was when he lit his own smoke. He must have used the last of the fuel. He put the lighter back in his pocket before turning to you, “Alright, come here.”

He probably enjoyed the flustered look on your face a little too much as he leaned closer, pressing the cherry of his cig to yours, using his free hand to block it from the wind. You took in a sharp breath, successfully lighting the smoke, and looking a little too disappointed when he finally pulled away.

You let the smoke out of your lungs, lifting the cigarette up with an almost embarrassed smile. “Thanks Cap, couldn’t have done it without you.”

He chuckled softly and leaned back against his pillar. “It was a team effort, truly.” He said dismissively. The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, simply enjoying the other's presence. And then it started to snow.

Wesker saw you stiffen out of the corner of his eyes. “What?” he asked.

You looked at him, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to,” He said, flicking his dead cigarette into the abyss, “I can tell somethings wrong.”

You almost got offended. “No way I’m that easy to read.”

Oh, Wesker loved a challenge. “Whenever you notice something but don’t want to “make a big deal out of it,” your poster improves and you size up. Then, you normally bite your lip- yeah like that,” You immediately stopped biting your lip once he pointed it out, “And you tend to get fidgety while you think of what to do.”

You scoffed at him, taking a long drag off your smoke, “Geeze, this isn’t a library, no need to read me like that.” You mumbled.

“You asked,” He shrugged, even if you technically didn’t, “So what’s wrong?”

You sighed and looked up at the sky. The flurry was getting heavy quick. “It’s snowing. I didn’t realize how cold it was outside, I’m…I’m not positive my car’s gonna start.”

You had Wesker's full attention now. “What?”

You looked down, embarrassment burning in your chest, “Yeah, my car is like, kind of falling apart. It doesn't like to start when it’s cold out for whatever reason.” You shrugged.

Wesker thought for a second, trying to think of explanations. “Have you checked th-”

“Yes, I’ve checked the battery. I got a new one and everything.”

His eyes narrowed, and your annoyed look was quickly replaced with an apologetic one. He licked his teeth before continuing. “I was going to say alternator, actually.”

Your embarrassment grew. “Um..what’s that do again?”

“It charges your battery.”

“Oh…No, I haven't checked that.”

Wesker almost laughed. It was cute, you were somehow both one of the smartest people he had ever met in his life- and the most flighty. It was part of what fascinated him about you. You were by no means incompetent, had he had seen you perform near miracles with some gauze and distilled water, not to mention how often the two of you got lost talking about whatever the hell came up. But the moment it wasn’t something traditionally academic or creative, you were out of your depth.

Some sick part of him really liked this side of you, because it convinced him you needed him, for moments exactly like this one. You depended on him. I’d tell you he’d go on to unpack all of this in therapy one day - but we both know that would be a lie.

“Come on,” He finally said, “Lets go look at your car.” You nodded, quickly finishing your cigarette before leading him to the old lemon that had gotten you around for the better part of a decade now. Wesker wasn’t shocked it was giving you problems- in reality, seeing this car run at all was the closest Wesker had ever gotten to believing in a God. Because only an act of divine intervention could get that rust bucket moving.

He watched you get in the car and try to start it. And to the tin cans credit- it really did give it it’s all to try and start. But, the dim lights told Wesker everything he needed to know. He didn’t even have to pop the hood.

He came over to your open driver's side door. “Pretty sure it’s the alternator. You’re going to need a jump.”

You looked up at him exhausted. “You got jumper cables?”

He probably did in his trunk. “Can’t say I do.”

You groaned, dropping your head against the steering wheel. “Fuck, how am I supposed to get home?!” You lamented, hitting your head against the wheel again.

Wesker gently pulled you up and away from the wheel to sit properly in the seat, “I could always give you a ride home. We can come back with cables in the morning.”

You shook your head at that. “No way, I like like- an hour and a half from work.”

Wesker grimaced at that. The thought of making that drive there and back was a less that favorable one. But he’d do it for you. “I don’t mind taking you home if it means you’re safe.”

You shook your head. “No, I’m not going to make you do that.

“Okay, then why not stay with me tonight? I have a guest room you can use.”

He tried to make the question sound more spontaneous than it was. It was no secret that you and Wesker were closer than a typical boss and his employee ever should be- but a sleepover was crossing an unspoken but very well defined boundary. He couldn’t let you suspect the very true fact that he planned to offer his guest room to you from the moment you said your car probably wouldn’t start.

Your relationship up until this point had existed inside of plausible deniability. Yeah, you might have brought him lunch most days- but it was because he never took one otherwise and you were just worried about him. You’d do it for any S.T.A.R.S member. He didn’t actually give you special treatment, you just managed to piss him off the least out of all of them and if anyone said otherwise they could take it up with him. Yeah, the two of you lingered around the R.P.D well after closing on Friday nights, but it wasn’t to spend time with each other! No, it was for the smoke break, honest.

Yeah he might have stood a little closer to you than he needed when looking at something on your desk. Yeah, you might have lingered in his office longer than you should have after dropping off a report. Sure, he started buying extra cigarettes for you, and sure you had his coffee order memorized, and yeah maybe you both lived for the moments when your fingers brushed while exchanging papers. That might have all been true, but you would both deny it if ever asked about it.

You couldn’t deny spending the night with him though. There was a certain level of intimacy needed to invite someone in your living space for the night, and there definitely wasn’t anything professional about it. No plausible deniability there.

You drummed your fingers against the wheel. “Yeah, okay.” You nodded, finally taking your keys out of the ignition, “Beats sleeping in my car.”

🪫🪫🪫

You were almost ashamed to admit that you hadn’t expected the Captains house to be as inviting as it was. His home was lit in the warm light of tableside and floor lamps, and his walls had pretty art hanging in frames. “Wow, your house is really really nice.” You said, letting him take your jacket off of you.

He chuckled softly as he placed it on the coat rack, “Don’t sound so surprised.”

Your eyes widened, and you immediately went into ‘try to explain things, but make them worse instead” mode. “No no, I didn’t mean like- well what I meant was- You’re just not the kind of guy I expected to have like, a nice place. Not that you wouldn’t have a nice place! It’s just, your office is so sterile, and like, kinda hostile to be honest. And I just didn’t think you’d care to decorate your house, not in like a bad way, but in an I figured you’d find it kind of frivolous kinda way.”

He let you word vomit, leaning against the wall while you rambled. When you finally paused to catch your breath, he interjected. “I grew up in a…what was the word you used, “sterile?” I grew up in a sterile environment. I didn’t want to live like that once I had the choice not to.” He explained calmly.

You got quiet. That was the most you’d ever heard about his childhood. A part of you wanted to pry, another much stronger part of you wanted him to continue to trust you enough to talk about it. “Sooo then what about your office?”

He shrugged. “I want my office to feel hostile. The less the team wants to be in there, the less I have to deal with you all.” He joked, but also kinda meant it.

You nodded in understanding as he led you further into the home. “I get that, I think.” It made sense. The less you wanted to be in his office, they harder you’d try not to fuck up.

“I thought you might,” He muttered. He showed you around the house, the kitchen; bathroom; livingroom; and finally your room for the night. It was just as welcoming as the rest of the house, the plush bed and warm looking quilt inviting you to finally pass out for the night. And you would have, if not for the fact you were still in your uniform.

You turned to Wesker. “Can I borrow a shirt to sleep in?” You asked bluntly. You’d already crossed the line into sleeping in the same house, might as well see how blurry the line could get.

He looked surprised for all of a split second, before realising that not wanting to sleep in your work clothes was- in fact- not the most unreasonable request you could have made. He nodded, rubbing his own tired eyes from under his sunglasses. “One moment.”

As Wesker went to fetch you something to sleep in, you took a moment to look around the room a little more. It was lit with the same low lights as the rest of the house, with thick blue curtains to cover the windows and a digital alarm clock on the bedside table. You took a second to peek out of the window to see the snow was really coming down now. Racoon City looked almost tranquil, covered in a sparkling white blanket.

“Here you go,” Wesker said, startling you out of your thoughts as he re-entered the room, “These should fit well enough.”

You smiled as you took the folded clothes from him, “Thanks Captain.”

“Just, Wesker’s fine outside of work.” He said. The last thing he wanted was to think about the S.T.A.R.S team while he was at home.

You nodded as you examined what he’d brought you. An old cotton band shirt, worn thin and soft with age, and a pair of basketball shorts you genuinely could not envision him in no matter how hard you tried. “I didn’t know you were a Rush fan,” You said with a playful grin.

He gave a soft smile in return, “Eh, it was the eighties. Who wasn’t a Rush fan?”

You shrugged, “I just always took you as more of a Bowie guy.”

“And why can’t I be both?”

“Fair enough,” you said as you sat the clothes down on the bed. “Thank you for this, I really do appreciate it.”

He waved your gratitude off dismissively. “It’s no trouble. It’s my job to take care of you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “As my Captain, right?”

He played it cool despite the fact you’d caught him in that slip. “Obviously.” He said with just enough condescension to make you feel like the stupid one here. “I’ll see you in the morning, Doctor.” He said before finally leaving you to change.

You quickly put on the sleep clothes. You tried to imagine Wesker ever wearing any of this in his day to day life. The Rush shirt wasn’t too hard, you could easily see him on his day off wearing it. If you really put your mind to it, you could almost imagine a younger Wesker at the Hold Your Fire tour, a wallflower at the back of the venue, listening to the music but resisting the allure of the crowd at every possible opportunity. It almost made you laugh.

The basketball shorts though you had no idea. It wasn’t that Wesker was an unathletic guy, quite the contrary actually. It was more that for as long as you had known him the most skin he had ever shown was his forearms and fingertips, not even his palms. You were at least 36% sure that if his knees ever saw the light of day he would actually explode.

That being said, they fit you well enough, so you couldn’t really complain. And if someone saw you maybe press your nose into the shirt, taking a deep breath of his scent lingering on the fabric, you would simply gaslight them into thinking they were losing it as punishment for not minding their own business.

You yawned as you crawled into the bed, the warm covers enveloping you. Wrapped in your little cocoon of safety, you were out within minutes.

🪫🪫🪫

You were decently sure it was the wind pounding against the window that woke you up. Or maybe it was the nightmares again. Either way, the snow from earlier had picked up into a full on blizzard, and you were now, regrettably, awake. Looking over at the digital clock, you weren’t surprised it was 2:30 in the morning, but you weren’t happy about it either. It took you a second to remember where you were, and by the time you did you were already out of bed and on your way to the kitchen for water. Might as well commit now.

You were half asleep as you padded down the hallway to the kitchen, when you noticed the sound of a tv. Now, if this was your own house this would mean literally nothing- it wouldn’t be the first nor the last time you had gone to bed without shutting it off. But, this wasn’t your house, it was Weskers. And he was the last guy that you ever expected to leave his tv on. So, naturally, you had to investigate.

Luckily, you had to pass through the living room to get to the kitchen anyways. On the way you tried to seem as casual as possible, taking a quick glance over at the sofa and stopping dead in your tracks. Wesker sat on the couch, staring blankly at the tv while old reruns played. On paper there was nothing abnormal about the scene. Just a man in a tank top and grey sweatpants watching late night television to try and put himself back to sleep. Something you were willing to bet a hundred other people in the city were doing right now.

But those people weren’t Wesker. They weren’t your Captain. Something about seeing him like this- in such a domestic way- felt…Wrong. Voyeuristic. You imagined this was how the first person who held the Necronomicon felt; the adrenaline rush that comes with seeing something humans were never meant to see- along with the unease that came with seeing something humans were never meant to see.

You blinked to yourself. That all felt incredibly dramatic. You felt silly for thinking that far into it. At least, you did. That was until he looked at you, and you realized this was the first time you had ever seen him without his sunglasses. Suddenly, it didn’t feel dramatic enough. For some reason, you never imagined his eyes would be that blue.

“Oh, my apologies,” He muttered, “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

You shook your head. “No, I’m pretty sure it was the storm that did it. I’m assuming that's what woke you up too?”

“You’re free to assume what you like.” He said as he turned back to the tv. That wasn’t really an answer, but you knew him well enough to know that meant he wasn’t going to give you an answer.

“Mind if I join you?” You asked, the mission for water long abandoned in favor of getting closer to your Captain. There was a joke to be made about trading out one type of thirst for another, but that was low hanging fruit and you were better than that. Even if you were thinking it.

He shook his head, gesturing to the free half of the sofa, “Not at all.” You smiled softly, moving to sit next to him and sitting probably a little closer than you really needed to. Not that he minded. You still tried to maintain a respectful distance though. The last thing you needed to do was embarrass yourself by throwing your body at the Captain like a pushy salesperson at a perfume kiosk.

The thing is, you didn’t try very hard to keep your distance. You were drawn to him like a neodymium magnet to iron. Your body naturally wanted to curl up against his warmth and fall asleep listening to the rhythmic thrum of his heartbeat. You focused on the tv, yet still failed to actually pay attention to any of it. You were just trying to distract yourself from the need to curl up in Wesker's lap like a needy cat.

You realized how hopelessly you had failed when his arm draped around you, trapping you securely in the crook of his arm, pressed into his side. Wesker said nothing as he did it, as if it was just totally normal and cool for him to cuddle with a subordinate. The thought of questioning him briefly popped into your mind before you quickly smothered it to death. If you started asking questions, he would move- and you really didn’t want that. You nestled into him instead.

You looked back at him, still taken aback by the look of him without his sunglasses. His sharp features were illuminated by the blue glow of the TV, accentuating his high cheekbones and the slope of his nose. His hair was messy- far from the immaculate slicked back style you were used to seeing it in- and yet it still managed to look perfect. As if even his bed head was intentional. You wouldn't be surprised. Everything about him was intentional.

You still couldn't get over his eyes. You had always assumed they were some shade of blue, but his sunglasses hid just how cerulean they really were. And just as sharp as every other part of him was, fully capable of cutting a king in half with one disapproving squint. Cold, but almost unbearably human, and looking straight at yo-

Oh God he was looking at you. When did he start looking at you?! That wasn’t allowed! You looked away, hoping that he’d let it go.

You snapped your eyes away so fast you missed the smirk that danced over his lips. “Oh, are you playing shy now?” He asked.

You maintained near unblinking eye contact with the screen. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He chuckled softly, low and deep in his chest. “So you’re playing stupid now too. Interesting strategy.” You felt the knuckle of his forefinger hook under your chin, pulling your face to look at him, and you felt your entire body catch fire. “Mmm. Not a good look on you though. You’re far too smart to ever do it convincingly.”

“I beg to differ.” You muttered. You wondered if you had ever actually woke up, or if this was another one of your dreams.

He smirked. “I’d love to hear that.”

You were definitely asleep. That was the only explanation. Every other part of yours and Weskers’ relationship developed over months, and in one night it felt like it was going from like, 55 to 100. His thumb traced your bottom lip, eyes staring at your mouth while he contemplated his next move.

Finally, his eyes met yours again. “I find you captivating, Doctor,” He finally said, “I don’t think anyone has managed to capture my attention in quite the way that you have.”

You felt your chest swell with pride. Weskers’ praise had always been like a drug to you, and it was only amplified by the intimacy the two of you were creating. “Thank you Captain,” You muttered back, “I feel similarly about you.”

His head tilted to the side. “Do you?” He asked. You hummed your confirmation, and his smirk grew. “Good.” in the span of a breath his lips were on yours, catching you fully by surprise. You tensed, only to slowly melt against him. His mouth was surprisingly soft, and moved against yours with an expertise that made you jealous. You wanted to curse everyone he had ever kissed before you, and never wanted to think about him kissing anyone after you.

Wesker pulled you closer, his teeth digging into your bottom lip and using your small gasp to deepen the kiss. It was like he knew you were spiraling into jealousy, and knew exactly how to drag you back out of it. Finally, you remembered you had hands, reaching up and tangling your fingers in his soft, short hair. You gave an experimental tug, earning you a soft moan from him. Noted.

He fully pulled you into his lap, sweatpants doing absolutely nothing to hide how you affected him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning in and letting yourself fall into rhythm with him. You felt one of his hands slide under your shirt to rest against the small of your back, and you were pleasantly surprised by how warm it was. He nipped at you again before moving, kissing your jaw and down to your neck.

You tilted your head to the side to give him room to work, moaning softly as he found that sweet spot that always electrified you. Teeth got involved after that, scraping against your skin as he kissed his mark, his claim, onto you. Your head was spinning. Of course you’d thought about Wesker like this before, but you never thought it would actually happen. You assumed your relationship was relegated to awkward office tension that would never be acted upon for fear of HR. It didn’t feel real, having Wesker pull you closer to him while he dug his teeth into your neck. You’d never been more thankful for snow in your life.

He pulled away, looking over his work. A sick grin found its way onto his face as he admired the way his bite mark looked against your otherwise untouched skin. He decided then and there it looked far too pretty on you for him to ever let it fade. He decided then and there that you were his.

He pulled your attention back to him with a short, yet demanding kiss. “I just realized I never finished showing you the house.” He said in a voice that was far too composed for your liking.

“Wh…what?” You asked, a little breathless and a lot worked up, “So?”

“I never showed you my room.”

OHHHHHH okay, that made more sense. You nodded eagerly enough that it would have been embarrassing had you known shame. “You should do that actually. You should do that right now.” Wekser smiled at you adoringly. So cute, so eager, and so so unaware. He found it almost comical that the bunny was begging the wolf to see its den. He wondered if you’d be so willing if you knew that he was just another Judas in disguise.

Probably not. He stood up, easily lifting you as he did. Instinctively your arms and legs wrapped around him, clinging onto him for fear of falling. Not that you had anything to fear. He picked you up as if you were nothing, his arms were steady and safe and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you swoon a little. He easily carried you to the room at the end of the hallway, and you felt yourself stir with the realization of how close his room was to the one he’d given you for the night.

Before you knew it you were on your back, being pressed into his silk sheets as he kissed your neck. You rolled your hips into his, only for him to grab you, dragging you flush against him so you could feel exactly what you were doing to him. He kissed down your body, setting every place his lips touched you on fire, even though the thin fabric of the old shirt you had on. Of his old shirt you had on.

He pulled the basketball shorts you were wearing off, wanting absolutely zero barrier between him and your perfect thighs. You squirmed as he kissed the inside of your legs, leaving clear evidence of him on every inch of skin he could. He wanted you covered by the end of the night. Finally, he made his way to where you wanted him the most.

You felt his breath over the thin fabric of your panties, licking the already incredibly noticeable wet spot there. Your body tensed with anticipation, with want. He nuzzled into you, licking up your clothed slit again, and you waited for him to finally take your underwear off. You waited.

And waited. “Wesker please-” You begged softly.

He seemed to like that, looking up at you with wicked eyes from between your legs. “Please what, Dear?” He asked, the pet name sending a whole nother wave of arousal through you.

“Wesker, come on, just- please-” You were frustrated. He wasn’t really going to make you say it, was he? That was kind of embarrassing.

“Please what Dear?” He asked again, a little more forcefully this time, “What do you want?”

Bastard. “I want you.” You whimpered.

“I’m right here.” Bastard.

“I- I want your mouth, “ You finally said despite the embarrassment burning your chest, “Fuck, I want your mouth so bad.”

He seemed pleased, a self satisfied smirk on his face while he finally finally pulled your panties down. He licked along your soaking folds, pulling a near pornagraphic moan from you. He wasted little time, finding your clit and wrapping his warm, welcoming mouth around it. He licked his name into the bundle of nerves, sending waves of pleasure through you with every expert stroke of his tongue.

Your hands found his hair, tangling into the short strands and pulling him closer to you, bucking your hips into him to ride his face. At least, you tried to. He placed his forearm over your hips, locking you into place and leaving you to moan helplessly while you took exactly what he gave you, no more, no less. You felt dizzy, lightheaded and spinning as you got lost in the bliss, your legs started to tremble in preparation for the oncoming orgasm.

You gasped as you felt one of his long fingers easily enter you, quickly followed by a second. He used his middle and ring finger, curling them up and directly into your g-spot, coaxing your climax out of you with every expert stroke. The added stimulation sent you reeling, his name falling from your lips like a prayer as he brought you to the peak.

Every movement set you on fire, every lick reeling, every stroke screaming. You could feel a coil tightening in your stomach, ready to snap. You could see the peak, and one final sharp suck against your clit pushed you over. You saw stars explode in front of your eyes and the knot in your stomach snapped, drowning you in dopamine and euphoria. You felt like you were in free fall, your entire body alive with sparks as he worked you through it all.

Finally, as you started to come down he pulled back. You were still recovering when you felt him touch you again, this time pulling you up and tugging your shirt off. You weren’t sure when he took off his own clothes, and honestly you weren’t that worried about it. You were just happy to finally get a peek at what he was working with.

Just five seconds ago you would have never described a cock as “pretty.” But, you couldn’t think of a better way to describe Weskers. Long and thick, with a pretty pink tip leaking with need. The thought occurred to you that in a different life, he would have made a killing as a porn star. You weren’t sure why you were like this.

You didn’t have time to think about it either, Wesker gave you one rough, quick kiss before pushing you back down onto the bed. He pulled you closer to him, taking your ankles and holding them in a wide V. He kneeled in front of you, taking in every detail of your body and committing it to memory. He didn’t think it was an exaggeration to say you were one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen; especially laid out like this.

Exposed, vulnerable, and aching for him. “You’re beautiful you know,” He mused, “breathtakingly so. And you’re all fucking mine.” He punctuated his point by thrusting into you, all at once and leaving you with no room to adjust. You screamed, clenching around the sudden intrusion and pulling a beautiful moan out of Wesker. You could see his shoulders relax for a second, your warm welcoming cunt pulling the tension right out of him.

He was never going to give you up. You were perfect. “Like you were made for me.” He groaned, setting a pace that left you light headed. The natural curve of his cock was perfect for him to bully your g-spot, and the current position you were in gave him the leverage to fuck places you didn’t even know existed inside of you. You quickly felt another coil start to form in your stomach, already sensitive from before.

It didn’t take long for you to realize you weren’t going to last long, your limbs already tingling with anticipation. “Fuck, Al, you feel so good.”

He felt the air rush from his lungs when you said that. Did you even realize you used his first name? He could hardly remember the last time anyone called him Albert, let alone Al- considering the loving familiarity that often came with a nickname. Furthermore, he couldn’t remember the last time someone said his name and he liked it.

Something inside him snapped, and before he knew it he was folding you in half, throwing your ankles over his shoulders and pressing his body weight into yours to try and get closer to you. “Say it again,” he said, hand coming to rest on your neck, “Say my name.” He was desperate to hear it from you again. It sounded so pretty coming from your lips.

You took in a sharp breath, this new angle giving him a more direct path to your sweet spot. “Al!” You groaned, head filling with stars as you lost yourself in him, “Albert, Al, fuck-” You’d say whatever he wanted you to if it met he wouldn’t stop.

He felt drunk, his entire body alight with need. His hand on your throat tightened, and he pressed a demanding kiss into your lips, shoving his tongue into your mouth in an attempt to claim every single atom that made you up. He bit your lip so hard you thought you might have tasted blood before he pulled up. “You’re mine,” he growled, “Do you understand that? Mine.”

“Yours,” you confirmed, “Only yours.” You were so sweet, so compliant. If you kept this up, he wasn’t ever going to let you go home.

What was he even saying?

You were home.

You felt yourself snap, flying off the ledge at 100 miles an hour as your second climax of the night hit you like a truck. Your entire body trembled as you were hit with wave after wave of ecstasy, mind going blank as entire galaxies exploded before your eyes. It brought Albert to his own peak, the feeling of you fluttering around him and the sound of you screaming his name pulling him over the ledge. He pressed his hips fully flushed against yours, cumming as deep inside you as he could get- consequences be damned.

He fucked you through both of your highs, only stopping when his body physically forced him to. He just barely avoided collapsing on you, falling to your side instead. He held you close while the two of you caught your breath, and you cringed a little when he finally pulled out. He pulled you to his chest, pressing a soft kiss to your neck. It was quiet for a second while the two of you basked in your afterglow.

It was you who broke the silence. “Soooo…” You asked.

“So?” He asked back, debating a smoke.

It was like you read his mind. “Does this mean I don’t have to worry about buying my own cigarettes anymore?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, because only you would ask ‘what are we’ like that. “Well talk in the morning,” he said, “For now, you should probably try and sleep.” You nodded in agreement, curling into his side. And in mere minutes, you had drifted into the most restful sleep you had gotten in ages.

#resident evil #albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #Albert wesker x reader smut #wesker smut #S.T.A.R.S era wesker #call in request

267 notes · View notes

eveninggstar · 1 year ago

Text

Princess Treatment

Summary: Whilst on stream, your viewers ask why you don’t have “smoking fingers” and you provide an answer.

Warnings: reader smokes, reader is intended to be female, one sexual innuendo, pre-established relationship, reader gets nails done, no use of y/n

A/N: i watched a clip thing on tiktok of someone pointing out Jake’s fingers and it’s because of smoking so i thought why not have a cutesy girlfriend not ruin her freshly done nails.

also expect some Johnnie to come up i have three requests and they are actually amazing so tysm for them!!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You were sat on your pink gaming chair, swaying side to side whilst you were beginning your stream. The viewers rolled in quick, as well as the various donations and quick messages.

A message catches your attention, halting your swaying. “Did you get your nails done?” you mutter to yourself as you lean forwards. “Oh yeah! I did.” You lifted your hands up vertically showing off your fresh nails. “Jake took me for my birthday.” You had a cheesy smile on your face as you brought your hands down. You put them under your thighs as your shoulders hunched up at the mere feeling talking about Jake gave you.

“I was going to get them done anyway,” you paused and thought about your incredibly outgrown nails prior. “if you saw my nails before…Wait! did i show you guys?” you rushed to your phone and went through your gallery.

You found the photo Jake had sent you. It was a picture of you squishing his cheeks together with both hands, and you can see how outgrown your nails were. You flipped your phone to the camera, trying different angles so your viewers could see. “Stop focusing on me,” you muttered angrily to your camera. It focused and showed the chat a cute picture of you and your boyfriend, with your outgrown nails.

“Like we took this when we went target, with Johnnie.” You set your phone down and talked with your hands, even more than usual with your nails. “He literally called me over and went,” you took a breath and made your voice higher in irritation to mock Jake’s, “Babe, show me your nails!” you scrunched your face up, then resorted to your natural voice, “And so i did that, he took a picture.” you paused, showing confusion in your face, “I think he put it on instagram, on his story. I swear he did something like that and.. was there a poll on if he should pay for me to get my nails done?”

Looking at the chat you see the confirmation, or the people who were unaware on how bad your nails looked in shock. You rolled your eyes, “Anyways, i have such a cute boyfriend the came with me and payed.” You showed your nails off again.

This time another message caught your attention, “If you smoke why don’t you have ‘smoker fingers’?” You furrowed your brows at the question. “What the fuck is smoker fingers?” You looked down to your keyboard and began to type ‘what is smoker fingers?’.

“Okay Chat, smoker fingers are~” you dragged out the final word, “Yellowish discoloration on the ends of your fingers from holding a cigarette; wait!” you look at your fingers. “Oh i know why!” you were about to answer when you got a phone call from Jake.

“Hello, i’m streaming.” you held up your speaker to the microphone.

“You wanna know why your fingers aren’t yellow?” Jake yelled in irritation.

“Why?” you giggled with your hand over your mouth.

“Because you always make me hold your cigarettes! Look at my fingers!”

“I can’t, we’re not on facetime,” you were proved wrong as he came through your door behind you. You turned around to see him just stood there with a hand on the door handle and the other on his hip.

You look at the camera, then the stream to see what the viewers were seeing. Then you turned to see Jake still in the same position, causing you to lean into your hands that were propped up on your desk and failed to conceal your laughter. Jake then strutted up to the camera and held up his yellowing fingers with nails littered with chipped polish.

“Look! This is what she does, making me hold her cigarettes!” he then turned away from the camera to look at you cracking up and trying to hide in your hands. “What do you have to say about this?” he then held him fingers up to your face.

“Cigarettes are gross,” you spoke in a small voice with a smile on your face as you peered up at him.

“So you have it inside of your body?” Jake questioned and looked down at you.

“Well, i do that with you. Don’t I?”

He stood there in shock and strutted out towards the door, then he turned around with a cock of his hip.

“Never speak to me again!” he spoke in an accent, then went to another accent. (idk how to describe it it’s kinda like a pageant mum?) “Love you, sweetie.” he opened and closed his hand in a wave and left your room, leaving you laughing your ass to your audience.

781 words

#jake webber #jake webber x y/n #jake webber x you #jake webber x reader

3K notes · View notes

thehorrorsoftheblackbunnymask · 1 year ago

Text

Paid Internship (Part 1)(Prison AU)

Author's Note: This is a Prison AU that the viewers of my blog seem to be pretty fond of. The main focuses for the romance parts will differ depending on the part, but for part 1, it's Liu, Jeff, and Toby. The reader is gender neutral and uses She/He stuff, but sometimes depending on what's going on I'll use stuff like Tits. Also, Sully will be in the fic, but I won't use his name. Pay attention to how Liu talks, they will be major differences between his first meeting and his interview.

Author's Note 2: This is definitely one of my longest and most plot heavy fics on my account. I do plan for this to be multi parter, so this part will be heavy on introducing the characters. This part will have some yandere moments, but they will be mostly prominent in part two. If you wanna be tagged for part two, leave a comment, or reblog.

Summary: Welcome to your paid internship at Roosevelt Federal Prison. After being seen for your potential and skills by your instructor at the Academy, he decided to give you opportunity of working in the US' most dangerous prison despite the disapproval and rejection from the higher ups. However, due to miscommunication and faulty paperwork, you're gonna up working with some of America's most danger serial killers for the semester.

Warnings: Descriptions of crimes, Rape Mentioned, Perversion, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Gore, Sadism, Violence, Implied Nudity, Kidnapping, Implied Abuse, Hostages, Death, Murder, Threats, Mood Swings, Sexual Abuse Implied, PTSD, Mental Illness, Dealings, Attempted Murder, Survivor's Guilt,Cursing, Sleep Deprived Workers, Stress, Agression, and More. This AU is not fo the faint of heart.

Word count: 13.5k

Links: {Masterlist} {Prison AU Introduction}

"Hey kid, you ready?"

You were taken out of your train of thought by your instructor and mentor, Officer Joseph Gibbons. Joseph was a man in his 50's, his once hazelnut hair now started to fade into a light grey, he was a man on the heavier side, plump like a mall santa clause, and despite his uniform being quite clean, it was covered in the smell of cigarettes and men's colone.

"...Not really. Are you sure I'm ready for this?" You asked, fiddling with the sleeves of your uniform.

"Ready? Out of the students at the Academy your the most ready for this. Any other Prison just wouldn't do you any good."

"Any go-"

"And we're here!" Joseph exclaimed, cutting you off mid sentence as he walked out.

You took a deep breath before walking out of the car. When you stepped out, you were greeted with heavy rain and loud thunder. As you looked up at the Prison, you felt a sense of fear hit you. It was like something straight out of a horror movie. The Prison was massive, you could probably see it from miles away if not further. Various plants were taking over the brick and metal walls, you could see officers walking around with flashlights, making sure nobody was trying to get in or out, two large guard outpost stood high on each side of the building, each of them blasting a bright light, and a large metal barbwired gate keeping whatever was inside from getting out.

"Joseph!" A voice yelled from the distance, causing the two of you to shoot your heads in the direction of the noise.

Whoever the voice belonged to, they were running towards the two of you pretty fast, waving their arms around like a lunatic.

"Esther, my dear friend. How the kids?" Joseph asked with a smile as he hugged the man.

Now that the man was closer, you got a better look at him. He had short red hair, a face full of a freckles, a small beard slowly starting grow in, and he was definitely younger than your mentor. He was maybe in his late 30's, early to mid 40's. He was in well shape too, his biceps peeking through the gaurd uniform he wore. He had a pistol, taser, and handcuffs strapped to his waist band on the right side of his body, meaning he was most likely right handed.

During your first year at the Academy, you were taught to see every single detail in a suspect or in a scene, no matter how small or big it was, and now you found yourself doing it like it was second nature at this point.

"They're good, they're good. Havent seen them for a while though, I've been stuck here all week! Now, where's this prodigy you've been pushing for?"

"Esther, meet Y/N L/N. Y/N, this is Officer Esther Wibbsy, I met when I first worked here. He's gonna be watching over you during this whole thing."

"Nice to meet ya, L/N," Esther said, sticking his hand out.

You shook his hand with a nervous smile, unconsciously gripping his hand hard in an attempt of letting out your nervousness.

"Dang, nice grip," He said, pulling his hand back.

"Thanks..."

As you pulled your hand back and wipped your sweat on the pants of your uniform, Joseph started to slowly walk back to the car.

"Your shift ends at 10AM tomorrow, you got this, kid! Remember everything I taught you and you'll be fine."

And as Joseph closed the door of the car and drove off, your only hope of backing out left with him.

"Don't worry, you're not going to be working with the actual dangerous ones."

"I'm not?"

"Walk and talk with me, I'll explain everything on the way."

You let out the biggest sigh of relief before following Esther.

"Roosevelt is divided into two sections. The section you're going to be working in is the normal prisoners. They're still extremely dangerous, but they're a lot more manageable then the others."

"The others?"

"The other section is what give Roosevelt it's reputation. You see, Roosevelt doesn't hold only people, we hold monsters, demons, supernatural beings that we didn't even know existed until we caught them. They're in the other section. The goverment put them here because they don't know what to do with them."

"Woah, so, how do you know I won't run into them?"

"That's the thing, I don't really know. To be honest with you, I think the only reason most of them are still here is by their own choice. Most of them are on death row, and if they really wanted to they can leave, especially Ben."

"Ben?"

"Huh? No I was just rambling..."

As the two got closer to the main gate, something caught Esther’s eyes.

"You see that random brick wall," Esther said, pointing to a wall that stood in the middle of the courtyard, starting from the building all the way until it hit the gate. From the angle you were at, you could just barely see a roof.

"Mhm."

"They're behind that wall. That entire half is their section. Most of the officers who work in that part have been trained specifically to work there and nowhere else."

You felt chills go down your spine as you stared at the wall. Something about it gave off a terrible aura.

"Who's staying in that part..."

"Have you heard of Jeffery Woods?"

"Yeah, Jeff the Killer? Slit mouth?"

"Yeah. That guy, is in that part."

"He's real? I thought he was just some urban legend from when I was a kid. His face was everywhere."

"Nope, he's real, and he's in there. Those pictures aren't what he actually looks like though, he's not that ugly. However, people like him are the reason why you're working in my part, it's a lot safer."

And as those words left his mouth, the two of you stood at the gate entrance. You and Esther walked up to the booth where a lady stood there with a tired, blank expression.

"Who's that?" She asked.

"The intern from Gullermary Academy. Joseph's student."

"Oh... Proceed."

Esther nodded as he opened the metal door and allowed you to walk in first. As you walked in, you were greeted with loud screams and banging from all directions.

"You'll get used to that," Esther said as he walked past you. "Wait in my office, I gotta go get your file from the boss." He then pointed to the door that had Officer Wibbsy written on a metal plate. "You can take any of the snacks, get comfortable because this might take a while."

"OK, thank you," You said, smiling.

Esther merely gave you a soft smile before walking off. Once he was out of view, you opened the door to his office and looked around. On his desk, you saw a picture of a woman smiling. She had freckles with long blonde hair. When you picked up the picture, you saw a date at the bottom.

"September 17, 2017," You read.

Was the woman dead? Or was it the date the photo was taken? Either way, it really wasn't your business. As you sat the picture back down, next to it was a picture of Esther with the woman in the photo next to him. The woman was wearing a white gown while Esther wore a suit, and in his arms was a baby girl wearing a little white dress and next to him was a little boy in a suit as well. Looking up, you saw his diploma in Criminal Justice and next to it was his certificate from the academy.

After taking a look, you plopped down on the chair and stared up at the ceiling. You weren't exactly sure what this internship had in store for you. When Joseph brought it up to you last semester, he kept it very vague. He'd often dismiss your questions and cut you off when you pushed it. You weren't suspicious however, since he was always like this when he tought you during your first year.

You wondered on what kind of prisoners you'll meet. Will you meet someone who was falsely accused and now is paying the price? Maybe you'll meet someone who has been in and out of jail and now is here. Due to your young curiosity, your mind just kept on racing with ideas. But suddenly, your phone began to ring.

Looking down, you saw the words "Mom's calling..." on your phone.

"Hello?" You asked.

"Hi sweetie, how are you?'

"I'm alright. I'm just waiting for my observer to come back with my stuff."

"Oh honey, I'm so proud of you! But, be careful, alright? I don't want anything happening to you."

"I will, mom, I will. You know how good I am."

"I know, I just don't want anything happening to my little girl/boy."

"I know. But, how are you doing mom?"

"I'm doing alright. Me and your father plan on taking a trip to Florida in the spring."

"That's great! Enjoying retirement I see," You said in a teasing tone, earning a giggle from your mother.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN?! THIS IS NOT WHAT HE SIGNED!" A voice suddenly yelled, overpowering the screams of the inmates.

"What was that?" Your mother asked, worried.

You stayed silent as you tried to listen to what was going on.

"I'll call you back, mom," You said, before hanging up.

You slowly walked out the room and looked down the narrow hallway, holding onto your gun tightly as you did.

"I'm telling you for the last time, this is what Joseph signed, his signature is right here."

"That is not what he fucking told me. I know damn well he's not stupid enough to put some barley experienced 24 year old in a room with this country's most dangerous criminals. As their observer, I can't allow this!"

You felt your heart stop when you heard those words come out from Esther's mouth. Despite your wonky confidence in your abilities, you were far from naive. You were not ready for this.

"Look, I'm just as unhappy about this as you are, Joseph is fucking stupid for signing this, but legally there's nothing we can do."

"I already told them that they were going to be fine, I won't even be able to observe them! Who's going to even teach them shit?!"

"I don't know, Wibbsy, I don't know. I can call Joseph and ask him what he wants up to do, but for tonight, they're working in the Creeps section, whether you like it or not."

Esther pulled at his hair and he looked at his boss with rage.

"If that kid dies because of this, I'm fucking done with this place, you hear me?"

"I hear."

When Esther walked out of the room, he was greeted by your shocked, frozen figure at the end of the hallway.

"You heard it, didn't you?"

"Y-Yeah..."

"Just... Shit... Take this and just, go straight down that hallway, and they'll take you from there."

"Uh...Ok. I'll see you later," You said nervously as you took your file and walked off.

Esther stared at you as you walked off, feeling a sense of guilt and responsibility consume him like water.

"Please don't die..."

The hallway to the other side was extremely narrow and costraphobic, you could feel the walls press up on you as your walked. One thing about the entire journey that disturbed you wasn't the leaking walls or the filthy floors, but it was the silence. Compared to the other section that was booming with noise, the closer you got to the second half, the quieter it got. You could only hear little whispers from behind the walls, but they were so quiet that you couldn't make out a word. The hallway was dark, dirty, and wet. You assumed that the rain from the storm has leaked through the walls and onto you. You could see roaches and even saw a rat run past you. You wanted to throw up. It was as if this place was abandoned.

When you got to the end of the hall, there was large metal door. There was no card scanner, or even a person standing in a booth.

"Hello? Hello?" You said, knocking on the door.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and a short lady started at you with wide eyes.

You could only see the woman's head, but she looked as if she was held hostage for years. Her eyes were wide, as if she had been traumatized, her hair was a mess, her officer cap was barely covering her head, and her face seemed to be bruised.

"...Name..." The woman said, staring into your eyes.

"Y/N L/N. I'm the intern."

And before you could blink, you were grabbed and forced into the horrors that awaited you.

The lobby section was bright and white, similar to a hospital. However, there was no cameras, or an officer sitting behind the glass with a computer.

There was a metal door that stood in front of you, keeping from whatever was on the other side from getting out. Ingraved into the door were the words "Inmate Quaters."

"Let me see your file," The woman said shakily, taking the file from your hands.

"Um, are you OK, ma'am?"

"Me? Oh...I'm alright, I didn't get the worse of it."

"WE NEED SECURITY PERSONAL IN SOLITARY CONFINEMENT, BEN'S CELL 001 IMMEDIATELY, I REPEAT, WE NEED SECURITY PERSONAL IN SOLITARY CONFINEMENT, BEN'S CELL 001 IMMEDIATELY!" The woman's walkie blasted as she read your file.

Suddenly, a large group of men ran past the two of you, carrying guns and covered in riot gear.

"Um...Ma'am?"

"Hm?" The woman responded, not taking her eyes off your file.

"Who's Ben?"

"If you're not working on his case I can't tell you anything, sorry."

"Oh...Ok."

"Huh...The Woods... Rogers... Otis... Wright... Thomas... This... no, this can't be right. Are they fucking stupid?" The woman asked, looking up at you.

"I don't know, maybe?"

"OK, It's fine, it's fine! Who's on the roster for today... Rogers... Jeffery... Liu... At least you got Liu... Ok, follow me."

The woman walked towards the door that had "Inmate Quaters" written on it, beckoning you to follow her.

"Have you gone through your file?"

"No, I've only been for forty minutes..."

"Here, read it. Read the first three for now, the others you'll be working on at a later date."

Once the lady handed you your file, you started to read through it as the two of you made your way to the cells.

The file was the one of a picture of a man with pale skin, greasy black hair, a slitted mouth, and a crazed smile. He was a picture of his mugshot, eyes bloodshot with a large shit eating grin.

"Jeffery Woods. A man in his early 30s, arrested for multiple accounts of serial Murder, Mutilation, Kidnapping, Torture, Stalking, Vandalism, Arson, Breaking and entering, Parricide, Drug use and rape. He has the reputation of assaulting, mocking, teasing and harassing guards. Jeff is often in solitary confinement, but that doesn't stop him from his usual actions. Has to be kept away from Jane Elizabeth Arkensaw due to them activity starting fights. He is deemed one of the deadliest prisoners in our institution. During your internship, he will be one of the prisoners you'll be interacting to help sharpen your skills. He will by far be one of if not the hardest to interrogate. His case is still under investigation..."

You read the words on the paper with disgust. His smile, so deranged, so sadistic, as if he was talking a school picture, ignoring the lives of those he's ruined or taken.

"Be careful with Jeff, he likes pretty ones," The woman commented as you read.

"Wait, I have a question."

"Ask it."

"Will be looking into their case? Like, will I be doing interviews and looking at evidence?"

"Well, I'm not sure about evidence, their cases are gruesome, and the transcripts of victims' families interviews and the interviews of victims who survived are not pretty... However, I know you will be interviewing some of them, like The Woods and Rogers. Now keep reading, we're most there."

You nodded as you moved Jeff's paper to end and looked at the next one. The image was the one of a man with stitches. He had a blank tired expression in his mugshot, not sad or sadistic, but one of bordem. He had brown hair with bright green eyes, and just like Jeffery, he was pretty pale.

"Liu Woods, also known as Homicidal Liu. A man in early to mid 20s, arrested for Serial murder, stalking, kidnapping, robbery, breaking and entering, assault, and vandalism. Currently serving a a sentence of 50 years but has a chance of parole once he serves 20. Liu is the little brother of Jeffery Woods, and after Jeffery almost murdered him, he developed an alter ego named Sully. Lui is is relatively quiet, observant, possessive and violent. But his violence gets worse when he's Sully. Lui normally doesn't harm guards or prisoners unless provocted, but he has attacked them with no apparent reason on multiple accounts. Liu is one of the prisoners you will be seeing often due to you working mostly in his section of the prison, where most of the pastas are such of Eyeless Jack and Toby. Warning when dealing with Liu, watch your words and actions, DO NOT touch anything of his unless it's a danger to him or others, and don't ask him too much about his past due to it being his biggest trigger in becoming Sully. If you're dealing Sully, be extremely careful, don't make sudden moves and don't anger him. Sully is extremely violent, sadistic but oddly childish. Sully is supposedly a seven year old according to both himself and Liu, so treat him as an extremely dangerous child."

You stared at Liu's image for a few moments after reading the report. Him and Jeff barely looked the related besides in the eye shape and skin color. With mugshots alone, you felt as if your experience with the two brothers will be drastically different.

"Do you have any advice on Liu?" You asked to woman.

"No. He isn't too bad, just really, really quiet. But when he does talk, he's very charming. He's a man of few words."

You nodded in response as you placed Liu's file in the back and looked down at the last one. It was a picture of a man, messy brown hair, the right side of his cheek was missing, revealing his teeth and gums, his eyes held heavy bags as if he hadn't sleep for days, and his neck and hands were covered in bandages. His expression was a pretty tired one, his eyes were droopy as he stared into the camera, some of his hair covering his face as he looked.

"Tobias Erin Rogers. A man in his late 20s arrested for Serial murder, Torture, Vandalism, Arson, Stalking, Patricide, Breaking and Entering, Kidnapping, and suspected of multiple accounts of sexual assault but is yet to be confirmed. Currently sentenced to life in jail with possibility of parole after serving a minimum of 30 years. He suffers a handful of disorders and quite often causes trouble for both staff and other inmates. He struggled with controlling his emotions and his impulsive behavior which often leads to himself, inmates and staff to be harmed. Despite this, you will be interacting with him during your internship due to him being able to get a long with staff for a short period of time if he finds them "hot." Warnings, don't get too attached, don't believe most of the things he says, don't give or take anything from him, and don't let his suffering fool you. He has a history of using his suffering against others and actually led to him escaping when he was first sent here when he was 19, and they didn't capture him again until last year when he turned 27."

"WE still don't know much about Rogers," The woman said as she stopped walking, causing you to bump into her.

"Oh, sorry," You said, backing away to give her some space. "But, why is that?"

"He hasn't told us jack shit. He hasn't told us about his motives or his past, the only things we know is the murders he's rambled about in past interviews. Since you two are pretty close in age, maybe you got a better shot then we do," The woman responded, opening the door that led to the door of the inmates quarters.

When the woman opened the metal door, there was a massive wall of metal and glass. It was a look in to see the inmates, and luckily it was a one way mirror.

"This is where the inmates sleep and spend most of their time. They don't leave this area unless they're sent to solitary confinement."

As you looked through the glass, you saw two men sitting next to each other against the wall, and above them on the second floor were two women talking.

"The two men on the bottom are Timothy Wright and Brian Thomas. You won't be meeting them for a while, but they're on your roster."

"How bad are they?"

"Depends on who you're asking."

"And above them is Jane Elizabeth Arkensaw and Natalie Outlette. Jane is definitely one of the most well behaved inmates we have here, hell, she shouldn't even be here..."

The woman continued to explain the operations and how things functioned in the Prison.

"Inmates eat breakfast at 4AM, and they don't eat again until 11:30 for lunch. After breakfast, they have freetime to do whatever they please, they don't get jobs or specialties like the other inmates. We tend to leave them to their devices under close observation."

You took a look into the inmate quarters and noticed that the man with short black hair was staring directly at you. He held a blank expression as he stared through your soul. You felt your blood run cold as he stared you down with his cold, emotionless eyes. You saw the man next to him look at him with amusement before telling him something, which cause the man to take his eyes off you and look at the other man with rage. You watched as the man yelled at him, but due to the noise canceling effects the room you were in had, you only saw the movements and gestures, no actual words.

"Ma'am, are you sure they can't see us?" You asked as you slowly turned your head away from the scene.

"Positive. Why must you ask?" The woman asked as she walked towards a door that read Officer Sarah Mandel.

"The man with the sideburns was just staring at me," You said, pointing to the man.

"Oh...Wright. he does that from time to time, ignore it."

"Uhhh, ok," You responded as you slowly turned your head away from the man named Wright.

"What time is it?" The woman asked.

"6:30 PM, why?"

"In 15 minutes you'll be interviewing Jeffery Woods," The woman said as she began to walk into a room.

When you were about to follow her, she walked back out with a piece of paper in her hands. She then rubbed her eyed tiredly before handing you the paper with a yawn.

"You ok, ma'am?"

"Yeah...Just tired, I've been working 18 hours and I don't go home till 10. Now, ask Jeff the questions on this paper, don't go off script. If he tries, redirect him, don’t give him a chance to get off topic. Now, he says some pretty perverted and weird things, ignore it and you'll be fine. An officer will be waiting outside the door, and there's a button under the table to notify him to come in. There will also be another officer with you in the room since this is your first time. Got all that?"

"Yep! So uh, where the place I'll be interviewing him?"

"Follow."

You and the woman then walked deeper into the area you in, going past the inmates quarters and going through a door that read 'Interigation Roon, Level 4 and up.'

As the two of you walked, you decided to read some of the questions on the paper. Most of the questions were ones you've seen at the Academy. Stuff like, 'Why did you do what you did?' And 'Did you know your victims?' And so on and so forth. Some of the questions were more detailed though. One in particular asked 'At the scene of one of your crimes, we found a dog next to a door that was locked. When we tried going through the door, it killed two of our best officers. What was behind that door, and who was that dog?'

You remember when you were younger, this image of a dog with a crazed smile was circling around. Some said it was cursed, others said it was some urban legend. But, you picture the image in your head, and you look down at Jeffrey's wanted photo, you couldn't feel like that was connected to him somehow.

"Alright, you'll be in room 899 for all of your interviews, keep that in mind. Now, they'll be here in 5 minutes with Jeffery, you ready?"

"Yeah, I think so," You said as your hands and legs shook with nervousness.

The woman let out a light chuckle before putting her hand on your shoulder with a smile.

"You're gonna be ok, kid. It's you first day, and you're already working with some dangerous people, but it comes with the job. You'll get it no time."

"Thanks, I appreciate it," You said as you took a deep breath and walked into the room.

The room was small with bright lights, two cameras on each side of the room, clean white walls, and a table with a chair on each side in the middle.

You sat down on the chair facing the door and pulled at your uniform to fix any wrinkles or badges that were out of place. You opened the folder and took out Jeffery's paper before placing the folder under your chair.

"It's ok, Y/N. He isn't going to do anything," You said to yourself as you looked down at the papers.

Suddenly, you began to hear footsteps and the sound of chains walking towards you.

And then, the door opened, and you were greeted with a sight that gave you chills.

A man, so tall that could barely fit through the doorway. His hair was long and greasy, covering his face as he looked down lifeless. He was pretty skinny too, that inmate uniform he wore being quite baggy on him. Covering him were chains, his hands were cuff and his ankles were chains together as well. You couldn't see his face, but you could see his eyes. His eyes were bloodshot and wide, staring at you with insanity and rage.

You did your best to keep your stone cold expression, but you couldn't hide the deed of sweat that rolled down your brow as he got closer to you.

The two officers that brought him forced him down of the seat before tying him to the chair tightly.

"That's a bit much, don't you think?" Jeffery said, turning his head to look at the male officer. He had a massive grin on his face as he asked the question in a joking manner.

"No," The male officer said coldly before walking in the corner.

The female officer looked at you with a nod before walking out and closing the door behind her.

Now, in the first semester of your second year at the Academy, it was mostly focused on interagation and the art of the mind. You were told to remain calm and composed at all times, but don't be too serious as well.

Joseph said people are less likely to comfortable and truthful when you make yourself appear as stone cold serious or far too casual. He said to find a balance, make them feel comfortable, maybe joke once or twice, but make them aware that this is serious.

"So, how are you doing, Jeffery?"

Jeff then shot up and slowly turned his head to look at you. His face was neutral, but the nasty scarred smile on his face did give you goosebumps.

"Jeffery... I haven't been called that in a while."

"What are you called then?"

"Jeff."

"Well, Jeff, how are you doing?"

"Shitty. I've been stuck in solitary all fucking month!"

"I'm sorry to hear that."

When you going the ask why, you remembered that the woman told you not to go off script. You took a glance at the officer in the corner before peeping down at the paper.

"So, Jeff, you've been charged with a books worth of crimes, and you've been on death row since December 25, 2014. We've had you in this place for a few years now, but you still haven't told us why you did it."

Jeff stared at you before scoffing and rolling his eyes.

"Same old question! How many times do I have to tell you fucking people. It was fun! Stalked a few people, kidnapped some, fucked the pretty ones, and at the end of the day all of them would be fucking dead," Jeff said with a grin, his eyes slowly starting to move down to your tits.

"Hey! Eyes up here," You demanded, snapping your fingers to get his attention to your face. "I'm here for answers, Jeff, not to be your eye candy."

"Awwww," Jeff moaned, giving you a pout.

"So..." You said, looking through his file. Jeff looked at you boredly as he yawned and leaned back into his chair. In the corner of your eye, you saw the police officer in the corner give Jeff a glare.

"A girl...oh. A girl went missing right before your arrest, her name was Abbie Grace, 21 year old college student. We haven't found her since and evidence is pointing towards you. Does the name ring any bells?"

"Abbie...? Nope! Not at all," Jeff answered, a strange optimistic tone laying in his voice.

After those words left his mouth, you pulled out a picture of Abbie. She had long pink and blue hair with pale skin and bright blue eyes. Her face was covered in freckles and her eyes had a shine to them. She seemed friendly and kind, her bright smile showing off her dimples and crooked teeth.

"Does she look familiar?"

Jeff leaned forward and looked at the photo. He paused for a few moments before realization hit him.

"Oh! Candy Head."

"So you do recognize her?"

"Yeah."

"What happened to her?"

"Heh, I don't know. I was told to kidnap her, not kill her."

The word told caught your attention immediately, and it seemed to catch the other officer's attention too. Nothing in his file said anything about a boss, it was said that he worked alone, a solo act.

"Told? By who?"

"Eh, I don't feel like telling."

"Jeff."

"What? Suck my dick first and maybe I'd tell you."

"You're not getting anything out of him, rookie," The other officer said, letting out a sigh.

"Well, what'd you do with her while she was with you?"

"Hmmm, well, She was definitely an ugly crier. She would always cry and cry, the bitch even tried to kill me with a butter knife," Jeff answered before laughing at the girl's attempts to escape.

"Hm. Do you remember you remember the last thing you did to her?"

"She did have a pretty face, and a fat ass," Jeff said before his eyes glazed over with lust as he reminisced. An errie smile continued to grow on his face as he contiued his thought. "She was the whole package, and I wasn't going to ler a girl like that go out easy."

You knew what he meant, his file didn't lie one bit, the guy was a fucking sadist.

"After fucking the bitches brains out, I gave the her to Toby."

"...Toby? Is he your partner?"

"Partner? You're funny! As if I'd work with that retard. if you wanna know what happened to her, ask him."

"You are aware that makes you an accomplice?"

"Like I care."

"And you do know that can make your stay here a lot longer, post poning your death sentence to look into your case further."

"If looking at your body means staying here, I'll stay."

"Well, I guess that's where our talk ends for today."

You then stood up and walked out of the room, leaving the officer with Jeff. As you walked off, Jeff stared at your ass, feeling a grin creep onto his face before the officer pulled him out from his seat.

As you walked out, you saw the lady from earlier waiting for you, drinking a red bull as she leaned against the wall.

"How'd it go?"

"Better than I thought... But he's, weird."

"Weird as in perverted? Yeah, we know. What'd he tell?"

"Well, I asked him about Abbie Grace, the 21 year old, and apparently he didn't kill her."

"Really? What did he do?"

"Well... He kidnapped her, raped her, not sure how many times though, and then gave her to a guy named Toby."

"Has to be our Toby," The woman mumbled before taking another sip of her red bull. "Did you ask him anything else?"

"No, just getting those answers were difficult."

"Pity."

RING!

"ALL PERSONNEL, PLEASE REPORT TO THE CAFETERIA FOR DINNER!"

"Welp that's us, let me tell you how this is gonna go," The woman said as she pushed herself off the wall and began to walk.

"The most dangerous and chaotic parts of the day is Lunch, Breakfast, and Dinner. All the pastas normally stick to their groups or by themselves, but during these parts of the day they're all trapped together like sardines. Fights breakout, stealing, and just too much shit goes on. When you're assigned your spot, stay there. If any of them try to get a reaction out of you or try to bother you, don't react. They're not your average criminals, and since they've never seen you before, that's definitely gonna happen today. Stand strong, stay quiet, and observe. Cops like us are merely meang to supervise them, not stop them, that's what Security is for."

"So, is that all I gotta worry about mainly?"

"For right now, yes. And don't leave the cafeteria until lunch is over. Some of them like to sneak out, and let's just say cops who wondered off, weren't found the same way they left. May that be mentally, or physically."

"Oh... So, stay in post, stay quiet, and don't leave."

"Yep, you pick up fast."

"Thank you, Officer...?"

"Mandel. I guess I never told you name, my apologies," Officer Mandel said before taking a another sip of her red bull, "Its been a long day."

‐---------‐-------------------------------------------------------

The moment the two of you walked into the cafeteria, you were met with a loud wave of noise.

"Shit, is it always this loud?" You asked Officer Mandel, who nodded her head in response.

The two of you then walked over to one of the security guards.

"Jesus! You look like awful, Sarah," The guard said with concern.

"I know right. Newbie needs their post."

"Oh, you see that guy over there," The guard said, pointing to a guy with stitches in the corners of his mouth.

"Yeah."

"You're posted in the front of the door behind him."

Looking at the man closer, your eyes widened with realization.

"Is that-"

"Liu Woods? Yeah, good luck," The guard responded before Officer Mandel slapped the back of his head.

"He's not that bad, don't listen to him."

Nodding in response, you took a deep breath as you walked towards the door.

All the inmates were divided into their respective groups. The two men you saw from earlier were sitting at their own table, but a man with part of his cheek removed was sitting with them as well, arguing with the one known as Tim.

"For the hundredth time, it's not my fault the bitch ran away!"

"You sure? Cause last time I checked, she was you last."

"*FUCK YOU* Whatever, Tim. The bitch most likely dead anyway."

You made sure to note that in your head for later. Tobias Erin Rogers, he was listed on your roster, and based on Jeff's info, you'll be meeting him very soon.

When you passed Liu to get to the door, you felt the atmosphere shift. It hit you like a truck, your heart raced as you took at glance at him.

His skin was so pale that he could've been considered sick. Since Jeff was paler than him, you just though it was family trait. But, the stitches on his face and hands made you think otherwise. In his file, it did mention that Jeff tried to kill him. An injury from the incident was mostly likely the cause for his apperance, but you kept your theories to yourself.

Much to you surprise, dinner went by pretty smoothly. But, you couldn't help but grow curious on why so many guards were coming in and out of the cafeteria. You knew better than to let your curiosity take over, but through dinner it became harder to fight.

"Something bothering you?"

Flinching at the voice, you looked down towards Liu, he was looking at you with a tilted head.

"What? Of course not."

"You sure? I ain't telling nobody," Liu persisted as he fully turned his body towards you.

You knew better than to respond, much to Liu's dissapointment.

"You interviewed my brother eariler, right?"

"Who's asking?'' You asked saracastically as you avoided eye contact.

"Me, who else?" Liu answered bluntly, a slight bit of attitude hidden in his tone.

"I don't know."

There was a moment of silence as Liu followed your eyes, realizing that you were looking at the cafeteria doors.

"The doors, huh?" Liu whispered to himself as a grin grew on his face. "You know, past those cafeteria doors is Solitary."

"Ok, why would I care?"

"Why would I care," Liu mocked.

"Jesus, just like his brother..." You thought as you rolled your eyes in annoyance.

"Hey, can you do me a favor?"

"No."

"It might benefit you," Liu said in teasing manner.

You didn't say a word, but you did raise an eyebrow with interest.

"Jeff stole shit from my cell before he got sent to solitary. You convince him to give me my shit back, and I tell you what I know about Candy Head."

"Candy Head?" You asked confused before realization hit you. "You have something to do with Abbie Grace's case?"

"Nah uh, uh, uh, get me my stuff back first," Liu answered bluntly, sending you a glare.

Something wasn't adding up. Jeff told you that he gave Abbie to Toby, but how did Liu fit into any of this? Maybe her disappearance isn't as cut and dry as you thought.

Looking around, you let out a sigh.

"I'll think about it."

Liu nodded his head in understanding before turning back around.

"Wait. How'd you know I'm on her case?"

"Stuff. First."

Letting out a groan, you lightly flinched as a loud ring echoed across the room.

"DINNER'S OVER! BACK TO YOUR CELLS!"

As the inmates got rallied up, Officer Mandel walked up next to you.

"So, how'd it go?"

"I don't know what that file said, but Liu is anything but charming. It was like I was dealing with Jeff all over again, just without the pervsion."

"You sure it was Liu?"

"Hm? What you mean?"

"You'll see. Now, the inmates are getting brought back to their cells, but our job isn't over just yet," Mandel said before beckoning you to follow her. "You'll be interviewing Toby in an hour or two, until then, I need you to look over the testimonals of their previous victims who survived."

"Their?"

"You said Jeff didn't kill her, right?"

"Right."

"So, there's the chance that Toby did. Toby didn't work alone, he worked with those two guys we saw earlier. I want you to get familar with their methods, and I want you to understand this very clearly," Mandel said before stopping in her tracks. "These people are dangerous, they will hurt you if given the chance. After today, you're not gonna have another officer in the room with you. I best not find out that you got hurt because you wanted to be fucking stupid."

Placing a hand on your shoulder, Mandel looked at you with a look you couldn't decscribe. "You're young, and you got so many years ahead of you, so listen to my advice. Listen to the files, and don't ever, I mean ever, go into solitary. I saw you looking at it earlier so I'm shutting the idea down now."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Wonderful. Now, while you were interviewing Jeff, I decided to hand pick the evidence and testimonials that mostly involved Toby. You're not going to meet Brian and Tim for a while, so don't worry about them."

Nodding your head, you looked at the door labeled "Intern 1."

"Oh, and heads up. The voice recordings are really dark, so, good luck," Mandel whispered to you before patting your back. "I'll get you when Toby's ready."

"Ok."

As Mandel left you alone, you took a deep breath as you opened the door.

The room was bright and clean, a decently sized desk placed in front of you with a computer on it, but it was also covered in various files. In the corner was an old box TV with a VHS and CD player, with a chair placed in front of it.

The room wasn't bad by any means, but it gave you an odd vibe.

Taking a seat at the desk, you decided to look at the different files.

Most of them were detailed descriptions of various crimes scenes related to Toby or the proxies in general, but under all the files was a VHS labeled "Elizabeth Todd's Testimony."

Since you didn't want to spend lord knows how long reading papers, you stood up from your seat and made your way to the TV, placing the VHS into the player before taking a seat infront of the TV. The TV took a while to process the cassete, but once it did, a woman appeared on the screen, the date April 26th, 2008 resting in the top right hand corner.

The girl looked about 19, dark skinned with big curls rounding around her face, fairly skinny but you weren't exactly sure due to her hoodie covering most of her frame, but the thing that you took notice of the most was her eyes. They lacked any sort of life, giving you an uneasy feel as she stared past the camera, implying that someone was in front of her.

"Your testimony will be recorded and kept for evidence, would you like to remain anonymous? If not, please state your name," A light voice said behind the camera.

Pausing for a few moments, the girl looked down to her hands before looking back up to the officer infront of her.

"My name is Elizabeth Todd," The girl started, her voice meek and low as she spoke.

"Would you mind telling us what happened on the day of the incident?"

"...It was my freshman year of college. I didn't know anyone, but I made some friends within the first semester."

Leaning back into your chair, you took notice of Elizabeth's body language. She fidgeted with her hands as she spoke, and always kept her gaze down, rarely looking up at the officers. She appeared nervous. You decided to keep note of that as she continued to speak.

"When spring break came around, me, Lilian, Austin, and Kevin decided to take a camping trip in tye woods near our campus. We took a bunch during the fall so we were pretty familiar with the area. But, when it came to us planning the trip, I always felt like something was going to go wrong..."

Elizabeth's voice cracked as she spoke, causing her to swallow her spit as she shook her hands, trying to keep her composure.

"Nobody listened though, saying I was paranoid even though we went there countless times before. So, we went anyway. Kev and Lilian were setting up a fire while me and Austin were setting up tents. Austin and I were dating at the time, so when Lilian and Kev weren't looking, we wondered off."

Snapping her fingers, Elizabeth continued.

"Austin and I were making out against a tree not too far from our campsite, fucking in the woods was on our spring break bucket list after all. But, before we could do anything I felt my heart drop. You know that feeling when you know something is wrong but you just don't know what?"

"Yes, I've felt it countless times while on patrols," The officer responded, which helped in calming Elizabeth's nerves.

"Well, I got that feeling. We stopped and looked around but nothing was there. But, it was really quiet, no crickets, no owls, just silence..."

Elizabeth paused, pulling at her sleeves as spoke, her eyes starting to water. "It all happened so fast..."

"It's ok, your words will help us in bring your friends justice," The officer said softly, placing a hand on Elizabeth's.

"Next thing I knew I was running. Austi's blood was all over me, but I don't remember what happened. Once I got back to the campsite, Kev and Lilian were roasting marshmallows at the fire..."

----------------------------------------------------------------

"Done fucking, yet?" Lilian teased as she placed her marshmallow on her cracker, turning around with a cheeky grin.

But, that grin quickly fell as her eyes fell on Elizabeth, wearing only a T shirt as blood stained her body.

"What happened...?" Kevin asked, eyes wide.

"He's gone...," Elizabeth responded, looking down at her blood stained hands before looking back up at the two. "We gotta leave. Now."

Without asking anymore questions, Kevin grabbed the keys to the car as Lilian helped Elizabeth stand.

"Are you hurt?" Lilian asked as she walked with Elizabeth.

"He's gone, Lily...He's gone."

"I know, I know."

"Lily, call the cops, tell them what's happening!" Kevin said as he led the group, flashing his flashlight at any sudden noise.

"Once we get to the car," Lily said.

But, Lilian and Elizabeth watched as Kevin's flashlight fell to the floor, being followed with the sound of a loud thump.

Lying infront of them was Kevin's body, a hatchet cutting through the middle of his head as he stared at the two.

"No no no no no no no," Lilian mumbled as she gripped on Elizabeth, backing up slowly as she did.

"BULLSEYE!" A cheerful voice yelled.

Stepping out from the bushes, a man with bright orange goggles appeared in the light, taking the hatchet out of Kevin's skull as he admired his work.

"Big guy aren't *KOO KOO* ya? No *SUCKY* wonder you were so easy to hit," The man stuttered out, his head twitching from side to side as he joked, the loud cracking of his neck echoing throughout the forest.

Frozen in shock, Elizabeth looked towards Lilian, who was just as frozen as she was.

"Damn... You two sure *WOW* are pretty," The man spoke, turning his attention towards the two girls. "I've never *SHOO* had a girlfriend before," The man continued before his gaze darkened, his body language becoming more hostile as he took out his other hatchet. "Mind giving me a chance?~"

Without wasting a moment, Lilian grabbed Elizabeth's hand before running off, causing the man to chase after them.

"We gonna split up," Lilian said.

"Huh?"

"It's better if at least one of us survives. You go left, I go right. We're going to have to get Kev's keys and phone."

"No, no please."

"It's fine, if I don't come back, leave without me. Now go!"

Lilian quickly ran to the right, jumping over a few bushes in the process. Hesitating, Elizabeth stumbled over a few branches as she ran the left, separating the two.

"Jeez, are they *KOO KOO* really that stupid?" Toby mumbled, tapping his chin with his hatchet as he looked both ways. "Tits or thighs...tits or thighs... Tits," Toby declared, looking to the right.

Running through the woods, Elizabeth saw the light from Kevin's flashlight in the distance. Picking up speed, Elizabeth felt her heart drop as Lilian's screams echoed throughout the woods, causing bird to fly up from their nest as it echoed.

"Lily," Elizabeth mumbled, staring in the direction of where Lily ran. "No. Get the keys, get the keys."

Standing over Kevin's body, Elizabeth felt nausea fill up her body as she examined his features. His once bright brown eyes now laid dull, staring at Elizabeth as his mouth laid open. Searching his pockets, Elizabeth felt a chill go down her spine as she caught a feel of his skin, painfully cold.

"I'm sorry Kev, I'm sorry," Elizabeth repeated as she pulled Kevin's keys and phone from his pocket. "I'm so sorry."

Standing up, Elizabeth decided not to take the flashlight, not wanting to risk being seen by the man who was chasing them.

Saying one last goodbye to her friend, Elizabeth ran in the direction of where their car was parked. But, as she ran, she could hear the sound of twigs being snapped.

The sounds came in short but consistent burst. He was following her, mocking her.

"I can see you~" Toby teased, letting out a chuckle as he watched Elizabeth stop for a moment.

Brian would always scold Toby for wasting time on victims, saying that too much time on one could lead to another escaping. But, Toby never listened. Having been a proxy for only a few months, the bosses were starting to grow quite fond of him, much to Tim's dismay.

But, this task was different. This was his first solo mission, and a surprisingly easy one too. Stalk the campers, kill them, dispose of their bodies, and go back to the cabin, easy, right? Well, maybe he should've listened to Brian's advice.

The moment Toby spoke, Elizabeth booked it, running much faster than she normally did.

"Fuck, *LOOKIE* she's fast,"Toby mumbled, chasing after her.

Reaching the car Elizabeth shakily pulled the keys out from her pocket, attempting to open the car door as Toby gained on her.

"Please-please-please, God please!" Elizabeth begged.

As the door opened, Elizabeth quickly jumped in, slamming the key into the holder as the car started up.

But, just before she could slam on the gas, a hatchet was flown as her window, causing glass to shatter on her. Luckily, the hatchet didn't touch her, her dodging just in time for it to land on the seat next to her.

Looking up in horror, Elizabeth watched as Toby appeared from the woods, out of breath as he came into frame. But, in his hand was Lilian, blood dripping from her body as Toby held her by her hair.

"Lilian...," Elizabeth mumbled.

Toby then tilted his head as he lifted Lilian's arm, waving it side to side with a sadistic grin.

She wasn't dead, not yet at least. Her chest was rising and falling slowly as Toby forced her to wave. But, blood was covering her face and neck, coming from the top of her head where Toby banged the handle of his hatchet into.

Staring at the two, Elizabeth came back to reality as quickly as she fazed out of it, slamming on the gas.

As she drove, in the corner of her eye she saw a piece of paper tied to the hatchet. Taking a look, she felt her blood run cold.

"If you survive, don't tell anyone what you saw. You'll see what happens if you :)"

She should tell the police? Lilian was still alive when she left, sure there was blood all over her, but maybe if she called the cops she could make it. Or was it too late?

Looking at Kev's phone, Elizabeth made her choice.

"911, what's your emergency?"

---------------------------------------------------------------------

"Elizabeth? Elizabeth? Fuck, fuck," The officer said as Elizabeth's head slammed into the table, not responding for five minutes before her head fell.

"JOHN, GET A MEDIC!"

The interview stopped there, but the tape continued.

"Elizabeth experienced a seizure during her interview, dying shortly after. But, evidence at the crime scene helped is in determining a series of events," You read as words appeared on the TV. "The bodies of Kevin Howard and Austin Brown were found. Kevin was found with a gash in his head while Austin was found with his head cut clean off. Lilian Smith's body has yet to be found at the time of this recording."

Then, the video finished.

The interview didn't tell you much about Toby's personality, but it did give you a glimce into his cruelty. You decided to use this case as a baseline for the other files you would be looking into, wanting to find common patterns in his crimes and how he picked his victims.

Standing up, you took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the deep dive you were about the take.

After an hour and thirty minutes, you were able to figure out common themes in Toby's crimes, and in two, you were able to get a solid idea on his behavior and personality.

You filled up three pages in your notebook with notes on Toby.

It seems that the proxies in general were very diverse in their victims, some of them being normal civilians while others could be big shot politicians or businesses owners. Toby in particular seemed to mostly target people in their early to late 20s, and most of them were normal civilians or low profiled criminals.

When it came to his behavior, a common theme was that many of Toby's male victims had much more brutal deaths than the women. Women's bodies were often found with a hatchet in the back of the head, or a gash in the side, but their deaths were often simple and quick. The men on the other hand were always found in almost unrecognizable ways. One body was found with his chest completely torn open, his intestines wrapped around his throat and blood smothered all over his face, a truly horrifying site.

The deaths in which his victims would have slowly started to give you ideas. It seems that Toby has some sort of vendetta against men, or more specifically, men with blonde hair. Men with blonde hair were often the ones found in unrecognizable ways. This was something that you would definitely do more digging on and try to get an answer when you're interviewing Toby. Now, you wouldn't say Toby has a soft spot for women, that clearly wasn't the case the more you looked into his behavior, but he did appear to be a lot more merciful and playful when it came to their deaths. Well, maybe not all of them.

You recall that in Toby's file that he would be more complient with people he found hot. Well, in a few cases, there had been women found days or even weeks after incidents. All of which were found dead and in horrible condition, implying that they were kept with him for a while. Maybe that was the case with Lilian.

Now, when it comes to Toby's personality, it's obvious he's mentally unstable. And his mood swings seem to be very self destructive. Often thrown into periods of mental exhaustion where he becomes a blank slate, too mentally out of it to bother with reality.

Despite being in his late 20's, it's been reported that he can be surprisingly teen like when it comes to his interest and some of his behaviors. In past interviews, he's expressed his love for sappy rom coms, and interest often seen in teenagers. It was something that you took interest in, and you decided to figure out if it was just how he is, or if there was a deeper issue at play here.

"Y/N," Mandel said as she opened the door, cutting you out of your train of thought.

"Yes Ma'am?" You responded, looking up from your notes.

"Toby's ready."

Nodding your head, you stood up from your seat and followed Mandel as she led you to the interview room.

"Figure anything out?" Mandel asked.

"A lot, actually. Figured out common patterns in crimes, and some stuff I would like ask hin about."

"Like what?"

"He seems to be much more aggressive men, blonde men to be more specific."

"Hmmm."

"May I ask you something?"

"Ask away," Mandel responded, opening another can of red bull.

"Do you know what happened to Lilian Smith?"

Mandel froze in place, causing you stop with her.

"Ma'am?" You said shakily, looking at Mandel with worry.

"I was on that case... Remember it well..."

"What happen?"

"A week after Elizabeth died, we found her body in a cabin nine miles into the forest... Her head was split in two, going into her neck," Mandel said, her voice shaking as she took another sip of her red bull. "She's the reason why we're trying to charge Toby with sexual assault, the way she was found..."

"Oh... I'm sorry for bringing it up, Ma'am..."

"No, no. It's alright, it's been nearly a decade. If we can officially charge him with it, the judge will be more willing to put him on death row."

Sighing in relief, you watched as Mandel stood up straight and continued to walk.

"I want to remind you, these guys are monsters. Be careful with Toby, he's a lot more unpredictable than Jeff. He might meek today, but tomorrow he could be wild."

"Advice taken."

"Anything else you figure out?"

"He doesn't seem to have a specific preference for victims, only a preference in death styles. I do find his treatment of women kind of interesting though."

"Why you say that?"

"Oftenly, his killings with them tend be more merciful, but, there's multiple times where they've been on the more gruesome side of things. You think I should ask him about it."

"I don't see why not, but don't ask him up front, a lot of the inmates are stubborn and aren't going to give you any favors."

Next thing you knew, you were in the hallway meant for interrogations. You weren't sure why, but the vibe was completely different than last time you were in the area.

"Room 111 is Toby's. Remember what I told you."

"Yes ma'am."

"Oh, also. After Toby, you're gonna be on your own for the rest of your shift. I'll check up on your every now and again, but that's about it."

"What? What am I supposed to do?"

"Look into your other inmates cases. You still Tim, Brian, Ben, Jeff, and Liu to look into. If you stay in your office, you'll be fine."

"...Ok."

Nodding your head, Mandel turned the corner, leaving you alone in the silent hallway.

"111...111...there."

Opening the door, the room was no different than the last one you were in. Table in the middle, a chair on each side, bright lights, nothing new. One thing you did notice was that this part of the prison didn't have any cameras, or computers. You thought it was just the hallways, but it didn't make sense on why they wouldn't be present in an interrogation room.

Taking a seat, you pull out your notebook, looking over the various notes you made. You considered asking questions, but then you remembered what Mandel said.

"Ask them the questions on the paper, nothing else."

You couldn't deny the sketchiness of it all. Yes, you understood why they'd be so strict with who they let in and what they'd ask, they are harboring America's most notorious serial killers after all, but some of the questions didn't even matter. Trying to gain trust is one thing, but asking complete bullshit is something completely different.

"Why did you do it? Stubborn my ass, he would never answer that," You mumbled, reading each question on the paper. "What do you like to do? What does that have to do with anything?"

But, you quickly fell silent as the sound of footsteps echoes in the hallways.

CLICK! CRACK!

The sound of various cracks and clicks could be heard. The cracking of bones made your neck ich, and the sounds of the clicks caused you to grind your teeth together. It didn't help that the sound chains could be heard as well, moving side to side with every click and crack.

Taking a deep breath, your back straightened as the door opened.

Stabding in the door was three figures, two police officers holding onto the man in the middle. The man held a bored expression, his head angled downward as he looked around with his eyes. Much to your suprise, he was much shorter than you thought, maybe around 5'5, 5'6 if you wanted to push it. However, you couldn't help but stare at the injury on his left cheek. Pieces of skin were ripped out, showing his gums and teeth to the world. Not to be rude, but you were kind of glad he wore a muzzle like mask.

When his gaze met up to yours, the two of you made eye contact for a few seconds. Within those seconds, you saw his eyes widen, his eyes softening for just a moment before switching back.

"Cute...," He whispered, tilting his head to the side as a grin slowly formed on his face.

"Quiet," One of the guards said as they sat Toby down, bringing his arms up in order to chain them to the table.

"I wasn't *WOWIE* talking to you," Toby snapped back, rolling his eyes.

"Thank you, I got it from here," You said, earning a nod from the officers as one of them left the room, the other one quickly prompting themselves into the corner. "Hello Toby, I'm sure you know why I'm speaking with you today."

"*CLICK* Yeah."

"So, how have you been feeling recently?"

"Terrible!" Toby exclaimed, an irrated look on his face as he mumbled under his breath.

"Why is that?"

"Hmmm, let me *KOO KOO* think. Oh, maybe because I'm fucking here! Would you be happy and shit if you got caught?"

"I'm not exactly sure."

"Liar."

"I'm no liar, Toby. Now, may I be able to ask you a few questions about your cases?"

"Does it matter?"

"...Uh."

You quickly turned your head to the officer in the corner, who nodded their head in response.

"Uh yes! Yes, it does matter."

"...Fine."

"So. Before you were arrested, did you ever know someone named Abbie Grace?"

"Abbie Grace... Colored hair?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, why?"

"We were informed that you were involved with her disappearance."

"...Snitch. *FUCK* He owes me big time," Toby groaned, leaning back into his chair as he looked up at the ceiling.

"Hey, focus. Can you tell me what happened to her?"

"What if I don't wanna?"

"It's not up for negotiation."

"Aw, look at you toughening up."

"He isn't gonna tell me anything, isn't he?" You thought, doing your best to hide your irration. "Well, Toby. If you don't tell us anything, we can't charge you, but, if, or when, we get evidence on you, you're punishment will be more severe."

As you talked, you noticed a shift in Toby's mood.

"And I'm talking death row, Toby. Death. Row."

"I could get death row right now if I felt like it. Do you honestly think these chains can stop me from bashing your head in? Or from taking his gun and shooting you in that pretty head of yours?"

That was the first time he didn't stutter on a single word. No sudden words, no sudden tics, clear cut.

"You're alive because I'm letting you live," Toby said coldly, his eyes lacking any emotion as he stared into your soul. "Isn't that fun!" Toby suddenly cheered, leaning over as he stared at you wide eyes, a strange amount of joy written on his face.

"...I don't think we have the same definition of fun."

"You're so boring..."

"OK. How about this then."

"Hm?"

"Talk about yourself. What do look for when choosing your victims? How do you treat your weapons? Go crazy."

Both Toby and the officer looked at you in suprise.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Uh... What about *FLOWER* me exactly?"

"What did you like to do when you were a kid?"

"...I was in and *CRACK* out of hospitals a lot... Whenever I was out, I would *LOOKIE LOOKIE* go play in the woods with my sister," Toby said. "I hated being home..."

There were two things you took note of. The fact that Toby has a sister, and that he didn't like being home.

"You have a sister?"

"Had."

"Oh... What was she like?"

"She was the best. *BIRDIE* She'd always take care of me, stop kids from picking *CLICK* on me...and always made sure I was ok."

"She seemed nice."

"The nicest," Toby said, his eyes softening as he dazed off. "What else?"

"How do see this...hobby of yours?"

"It's a job, not a hobby."

"Hm. What do you hate most about it?"

"My *CLICK* co-workers."

"Why's that?"

"Tim is always yelling at me about something. *COOKIE* You fucked up on this mission! You never shut up! Mehmehmehemehmeh! And *SHOOT* Brian is just there! Sometimes he gets on me too, and other times he's on Tim! *TICK TOK* Like hello, pick a side!"

To be honest, you were surprised by Toby's words. Back at the Academy, Gibbons would always remind you that every criminal was human, so they would and behave as one. Even though you were considered very skilled, sometimes you forget this simple fact, that even the smartest or most dangerous of criminals, can crack.

The way Toby described them sounded like a worker talking shit about their boss in an office. Now you couldn't help but wonder how Brian and Tim would describe each other.

"That seems annoying."

"Finally someone gets it!" Toby exclaimed. But, after he spoke those words, you watched as he slowky looked at you, a faint blush forming on his face as he sent you a smile. "You know what, I like you."

You felt a chill go down your spine as you stared at him. Yes he called you cute, but the way he was looking at you, you couldn't help but feel concern.

"Um. OK, anyways... Did you have any favorites?"

"Favorites?"

"Yeah. Whenever you did your job, did you have a set preference that you could follow or no?"

"Hmmmm... I hate open spaces. *WOWIE* The noise, the people, the attention... *FUCK* I hate it."

"That explains the locations. Maybe I can figure out a pattern in Toby's preferences that can give me more clues to Abbie's case."

"I've always liked the woods, especially the campers. They're always to unaware. *CHICKEN* I once killed a guy who was half way through fucking *FUCK* his girlfriend, oh you *CAN'T *should've seen her face when I bashed his brains in!" Toby exclaimed before moving his up into the air and quickly slamming them down into the table, looking you dead in the eyes with a manic expression, "Just like that! She had your exact face!"

Least to say, you were dumbfounded. This guy was energetic, loud, and manic, the way he talked about his murders held so much life, so much passion, so much pride. The joy in his voice almost made you forget that you were talking to a criminal, and a manipulative one too. Despite his tone, you couldn't tell if he was being genuine, or at least what everything he was saying was true. If he fell for your trick, maybe he wasn't as aware as Mandel said.

"Oh...um. Is that all?"

"Maybe, maybe not. I don't wanna talk anymore."

"Wait, we're not done yet, we still have to talk about Abbie."

Toby sent you glare as his body tense up, his once playful energy gone.

"I know you don't care about death row, but, if Jeff gives us more evidence against you, the judge may consider lightening his sentence, while you, will get a more severe one. Maybe not death row, but still worse than Jeff's."

"So you want me to snitch."

"I wouldn't say that. I don't really care who tells me what happened to Abbie, I just wanna know."

Toby stared off to the side, assumingly in thought.

"Getting Candyhead was an order from the boss...She's *OW* the daughter of a powerful business *CRACK* owner that didn't keep his end of the deal with the boss. So, he had Jeff capture her, and then Jeff *POW* gave her to me to keep her *WOW* hostage."

"Wait... She's?" You mumbled. "Toby, is Abbie dead?"

"I don't know who told you she was."

"Wait. If she's alive, then we have to look over everything!"

You turned around the officer in the corner, who was just as surprised as you were.

"Miss, who's the head of the Abbie Grace case?"

"Detective Adrea Banklin."

"Can I meet with her after this?"

"I'll have to see if she's right now."

"Ok. Toby, our interview ends here."

"Ok~"

Standing up from your seat, you quickly made your way out of the room, keeping the door open as another officer ran in.

"Abbie's alive. But, how? She's been missing for over a year, how can she survive that long," You spoke to yourself as you rushed to your office.

As you opened the door to your office, you rushed to your desk, pulling out the Abbie Grace file from your cabinet.

"OK, ok. Calm down, Y/N, calm down. I understand it's your first real case, but stuff like this happens, so calm down," You said softly as you took some deep breaths. "OK, OK. I don't even have all the files on Abbie yet, so what should I do now..."

Then, it hit you.

"Liu."

Looking into the hallways, you, quickly made you way towards the inmates quarters, making sure to hide from other officers.

"Oh my God, what am I doing, what am I doing? Mandel is going to kill me, Gibbons is going to kill me. But, if it's solve the case, it's fine."

The inmate quarters were dark. You could see figures moving around, but since it lights out, the power in the quarters was out.

"How am I even going to get in?"

"Intern."

"AH!"

Turning around, the officer from earlier was behind you, giving you a suspicious look.

"Oh, you scared me."

"What are you doing over here?"

"...Just wanted to look around."

"...mhm. Well, Banklin is here at the moment, but she's preparing to go home. She's willing to speak now, but she won't wait long."

"That's great! Can you take me to her, please?"

The officer merely nodded her head before walking off.

"Liu can wait," You whispered to yourself before following after her.

"She's at the end of the hallway."

"OK, Thank you, officer..."

"Cherry, Officer Cherry."

"Y/N L/N."

"Pleasure. Also, if you're gonna meet with inmates, be more discrete."

"...How did you-"

"Been there, done that. Got caught up in a deal with Ben, was his bitch for months...You learn a thing or two," Officer Cherry said before walking off, leaving you alone.

You quickly made your way to Banklin's office. Opening the door, you saw Banklin placing various files into a bag.

Banklin was a tall woman with long brown hair, she seemed quite put together despite the stressful work environment.

"Detective Banklin?"

"Hm? Oh, you must be the intern."

"Yes, um. I've gotten some important information about the Abbie Grace case."

"From?"

"Toby, ma'am."

"Rogers? That man is a bipolar punk, I don't trust a word that leaves his mouth."

"I cam see why, but he implied that Abbie is still alive."

Banklin froze as she looked up at you, dropping the file in hand.

"Alive?"

"Yes, when he was talking about her, he talked in a present tense, and when I asked if she was actualky dead, Toby said that he never said she was."

"...It does make sense, we never did find her body, " Banklin said, rubbing her chin as she looked at the floor? "But, we've never had a case where one of their victims survived for more than a month."

"I don't know if you've noticed, but Toby has a pattern of keeping women for long periods of time before killing them."

"I've noticed, but in each of those cases, they didn't live past a month on average when we conducted their autopsy."

"So we're just going go let this info go?"

"I'm not saying that, I'm saying it's unreliable. Toby is far from stupid, and he tends to withhold info. He claims that he'll 'never be a snitch'."

"This claim can change this entire case, Miss. Banklin. Even if Toby is lying, what if he isn't? He sounded genuine when he spoke, and if she's alive out there, why should we just wait and see?"

"Listen here. This is your first time working with these Motherfuckers, you don't know anything about them. We asssigned this case to you because it's still on going. If you fuck this up and put this case in jeopardy, you're internship is done. I don't care what Joesph says."

All you could do is stare at Banklin, frozen in place as she closed her bag. You couldn't deny the fact that you often get way over your head, maybe being labeled the best officer in the academy made you a little over confident, but you didn't want to just throw this possibility out of the way. You didn't have a solid conclusion to Toby's true behavior, you still needed a bit more time on that bit, but until then, you were going to trust a few of his words.

"I'm sorry, ma'am."

"Don't bother. Abbie's case is the last case we have regarding Jeffery. Listen to Jeffery's words before Toby's, Jeffery rarely lies to us."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good, now if you excuse me, I have a family to go home to," Banklin said, pushing past you so she opened the door. "Oh, also. Stick to what we assign you. We don't only want you to not fuck anything up, but it's also to protect you. Some of these cases are extremely classified and cannot get released to the public. I hope you understand."

"No, no I do."

"Good, see you in the morning."

Then, she was gone. You didn't even realize that you were holding your breath.

After meeting Banklin, you had come to the conclusion that no one was going to take your theories seriously. But, maybe there was someone who would.

Checking the hallways, you quickly dashed back to the inmate quarters. As you ran, you remembered a lesson that you had with Gibbons.

--------------------------

"Wrong!" Gibbons said for the hundredth time.

"What?! How is that wrong? The suspect obviously lied!" You yelled, pointing down at the paper, "Look, you see the inconsistencies in her statements."

"Y/N, in this field, not everything is simple."

"Yeah, I know that."

"So... Let's look over this paper one last time," Gibbons said as he sat in front of you. "The detective is pushing the suspect. When under stress, people will either do two things. They'll either confess, or make someone hear what they want to hear. With this in mind, what do you think is going on here?"

Looking down at the paper, you did your best to come up with an answer. Before being put under stress, the suspect's story was adding up, but, the moment the detective put them under pressure, their claims fell apart.

"They're telling the detective what they wanna hear?"

"Nope!"

"What?! What do you mean no?"

"Before the suspect was put under pressure, their story was adding up perfectly with the crime, but, the moment they were put under pressure, everything fell apart. This tells you two things. 1, they're not alone. They're most likely being used to take the fall, explaining the perfect line up. And 2, they indirectly confessed that they were innocent."

"You got that from this alone?"

"When you're in this job for as long as I have been, you pick up on things quickly. But, this, situations like this is what makes solving cases so difficult. When you do your internship, I want you to keep this in mind."

"Keep what in mind?"

"If someone is willing to tell you info about a case, take it, especially if it's from a snitch. A snitch is more willing to throw their friends under the bus for than own gain, making them more reliable than a direct source. "

"What if I can't talk to them?"

"Find a way. Roosevelt is Big, many places to hide. Be smart, not crazy."

"So you want me to break the law?"

"If you can make look legal, than yes."

"...You're the worst cop ever."

----------------------------------------------------

"Guess I'm the worse cop ever," You muttered, taking a deep breath as you stood infront of the door separating you from the inmates.

Looking to the right, you noticed a key pad with various numbers and letters.

"Shit... uh, how about, 1 2 3 4 5?"

"WRONG, 6 DIGIT CODE" was written in bold letters.

"Six digits?" You questioned, clenching your eyebrows togethers as you thought. "It can't be something simple, but what if it's so simple that people wouldn't even consider using it?"

Then, it came to you.

"Wait...Roosevelt Federal Prison, Creepypasta Ward? R F P C P W."

CLICK!

"Oh thank god."

Openng the door, you felt the atmosphere shift as you took a step into the room. Due to it being curfew, it was pitch black in the ward, leaving you to rely on the sounds of various voices.

"Shit, why did I do this, why did I do this? If I'm caught in here my internship is done. Can I get arrested for this? Probably. Well, too late now..."

You weren't exactly sure where to look for Liu. You weren't sure if he was on the bottom or top bit, or if he even had a roommate. You knew better than to turn on your flashlight, but, you started to feel the consequences of you actions. Maybe you should get you impulse under control.

Caught up in your thoughts, you failed to notice the figure creeping up behind you. However, you were able to hear the sound of faint breathing.

Whipping your head around, your gun was already in hand, but, the figure grabbed your wrist and covered your mouth, immobilized you.

Adjusting to the dark, you were able to make out a pair of green eyes. You weren't exactly sure if it was Liu, but, the feeling of stitches rubbing against your hand confirmed your suspicions.

"Liu?" You whispered, tightening your grip on your gun.

Liu remained silent as he stared at you.

"What do you want."

It wasn't a question, it was a demand.

"I'm accepting your deal. If I get whatever it is Jeff took from you, you'll tell me what you know about Abbie."

You couldn't see his face, but Liu looked down at you confused. What deal? He did recall slipping in and out of conciouness during lunch, sharing a few words with you before blanking out once more. But, his face quickly turned into annoyance as he imagined Sully interacting with you. The little bastard had to have made a deal with you.

"...Ok," Liu answered blankly, letting go of your wrist.

"What does Jeff have that you want me to get. "

Liu stayed silent for a few moments. What was it that Jeff took this time? One of his guns? Nah, he hates the noise. His bandages? Maybe. So, Liu only shrugged, much to your disappointment.

"If I get you whatever Jeff has, you'll tell me about Abbie, right?"

"...Yeah, yeah, sure."

"Promise?"

"I'm not saying it again," Liu said, sending you a glare.

You quickly shrieked back, nodding your head in understanding before sliding past him.

Feeling around for another key pad, you quickly entered the pass code. Squeezing through the door, you let out the biggest sigh of relief, but you quickly felt that relief be replaced with regret.

"I just made a deal with a fucking inmate," You said, your eyes wide in shock. "What kind of cop am I? Best at the Academy my ass..."

Little did you know, this was only the beginning. The start of your fall from grace.

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x y/n #yandere creepypasta #creepypasta x you #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby x y/n #yandere jeff the killer #jeff the killer x you #jeff the killer x reader #yandere ticci toby #ticci toby x you #jeff the killer x y/n #yandere creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x female reader #creepypasta au #.Prison AU #homicidal liu x y/n #homicidal liu x reader #Yandere homicidal liu

580 notes · View notes

cnidocyst · 2 years ago

Text

lineup but i had 2 cut it into pieces #verticalwebsite but you get the idea

[IMAGE ID, IMAGE 1: A fan lineup of Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, and Sanji, in that order, all post time skip. They are drawn in a cartoony art style and deviate quite a bit from their canon designs. Luffy is looking face forward at the viewer, smiling widely, and holding a peace sign towards in front of him. He's a little shorter with cartoonishly large eyes, ears, hands, and feet. Zoro is standing with his chest puffed out to the side, fists clenched, and glancing over at the viewer. There are no major changes to his design, though he has a mullet for some reason. Nami is smiling, mouth open, and holding her clima tact with Zeus emerging out of it and floating over her head. She's drawn to be more chubby, freckled, and has a cowlick in the shape of a stem and leaf. She's wearing a green button up, that isn't buttoned at all, exposing her black sports bra and stomach. She's wearing white jeans with a berri belt buckle and her regular sandals with heel shoes. Usopp looks a little confused, and is holding the kuro kabuto, with a small plant head attached like when he uses the grow up kabuto move. Usopp's eyes are cartoonishly large and the top of his hat covers the top of his eyes slightly, acting as a second brow. Instead of a long thin nose, he's drawn with a shorter fatter nose that connects directly to his top lip, almost as if his head was a sock puppet. His skin is colored much darker than an in the anime. Sanji looks at the viewer, annoyed, holding a cigarette in one hand, and resting his other wrist on the elbow crevice of his opposite arm. He is drawn with a short torso to make his legs look longer and more spindly, with cartoonishly large hands and feet. His hair is drawn more curly to make his eyebrow, and colored a strawberry blonde. IMAGE 2: Continuation of the lineup, this one has Chopper, Robin, and Franky. Chopper is looking at the viewer, facing forward, and holding a rumble ball in his hoof. He's been redesigned to have smaller eyes and a wider nose, thick human like eyebrows, and a tricolor fur coat of brown, darker brown, and cream for the chest. His hat remains the same, and he's wearing a pink tank top that says "Yay" on it and his magenta pre-time skip shorts. Robin is standing and a three quarters angle, glancing over at the viewer. She's been redesigned to have more jagged hair with cartoonishly large hands and feet to contrast her thin limbs. Her clothes are mostly the same as her default outfit, with the jacket redesigned to have longer sleeves and show less cleavage, the pattern on her skirt simplified, and her legs and feet are drawn as if her pants and shoes are one and the same. Franky is standing face forward, smiling widely, sunglasses on, head cocked to the side, and doing a thumbs up with one of his mini hands. Simplistic chest and stomach hair have been added, matching his hair color. The chest hair is in the shape of a star. His shoulders have been completely recolored to be black with a red stripe, white lettering, and have blue flame decals on them. He's wearing his default pre-time skip shirt and black speedos. IMAGE 3: Continuation of the lineup, this one has only Brook and Jinbe. Brook is playing his guitar, has his mouth wide open, and cocking an eye at the viewer. He's wearing his sunglasses, but they're pulled down to show the tops of his eye sockets. He's wearing his default outfit, the only changes are that the back of his suit is ragged and his pants are a bit scuffed. The floral pattern on his pants have been simplified as well. Jinbe is standing with his arms hanging down, looking to side at nothing in particular, mouth slightly agape. He's wearing yellow and white robe and purple cape from the wano arc. White spots are speckled across his cheeks, sides of his neck, backs of his hands, and tops of feet, meant to resemble the spots of a whale shark. His hands have a more paw like appearance with the fingers thicker and tiny claws sticking out. END iD]

#one piece #luffy #zoro #nami #usopp #sanji #chopper #franky #brook #jinbe #2023 #f #+color #id in desc #nico robin

759 notes · View notes

draqu1a · 2 months ago

Text

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ A STRESS-RELIEVER . . .

— what kind? : SMUT — warnings : sexual&suggestive content ahead , viewers discretion is adviced , MDNI .

The glowing clock on your microwave almost glares back at you, mocking your exhaustion. 11:47 PM. Another soul-crushing Tuesday starts to come to an end.

All you crave is at least a temporary distraction from the mountain of work and the relentless hum of your anxieties in your mind.

You fish your phone out of your purse, scrolling past a dozen unanswered notifications. There’s only one name you want to see right now.

Chris?

Long day. Rescue mission required.

You hit send, then immediately start to second-guess yourself. You haven’t seen him in a little while. He’s probably busy. Maybe seeing someone.

But the thought of facing another hour alone with your to-do list sends a shiver of dread down your spine. Barely five minutes pass before your phone buzzes.

On my way.

Relief floods your body immediately. You kick off your shoes, the click of heels hitting the hardwood a sudden noise in the rather silent apartment.

You pull your hair into a messy ponytail, not bothering with makeup or anything that requires much effort. You just need… something.

The knock on the door is light, almost hesitant. You swing it open.

Chris stands there, a familiar grin plastered on his face. He's wearing a worn black t-shirt and jeans, his brown curls slightly disheveled.

He looks... good. Too good, maybe.

A reminder of why this arrangement works and why it also carries a low-level hum of underlying danger of being caught catching any feelings.

“Rough one, huh?” He steps inside, the apartment seeming to instantly brighten with his presence.

“You have no idea,” you sigh, leaning against the doorframe. “I swear, if I have to look at another spreadsheet, I’m going to scream.”

He closes the distance between you, his hands resting lightly on your hips. “Screaming sounds fun, actually.”

You hadn’t realized how tense you were until his touch melts some of the knots in your shoulders. “Don’t tempt me.”

He doesn’t need any encouragement. His lips find yours, a soft, hesitant pressure that quickly deepens. It’s familiar, comfortable. A well constructed path your bodies know how to navigate almost professionally.

The kiss is a promise. A promise of temporary escape, of shared pleasure, of a world that exists only within your bodies and the walls of your apartment. You pull him closer, your fingers tangling in his hair.

Clothes quickly disappear, a frantic dance of need and desperation. You push him back against the wall, your hands tracing the contours of his chest, the hard ghosts of his abdomen. He groans, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you tighter against him.

He picks you up roughly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you to the bedroom. The short trip is a blur of clumsy, desperate kisses and hurried hands. He drops you onto the bed, following you down.

The next hour is a whirlwind. A tangled mess of limbs and whispered moans. He knows exactly where to touch, how to tease, how to drive you wild. There’s no fake show, no expectation for the immediate need for release.

He pushes all the right buttons, until all that occupies your mind is him, just him. You lose yourself in his eyes, his touch, his scent. The spreadsheets, all of the work, the anxieties – they all fade away, replaced by a singular burning sensation.

His thrusts are deep and persistent, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You cry out, your body convulsing as release washes over you in a series of intense waves. He follows soon after, his own release followed by a guttural moan that echoes in the small room.

Afterwards, you lie tangled together, limbs heavy and breaths coming in ragged gasps. The silence is broken only by the rhythmic rise and fall of your chests. You disentangle yourself slightly, reaching for the pack of cigarettes on your nightstand.

While sill lost in the afterglow. You light one, the orange tip glowing in the dim light. You inhale deeply, then exhales a gasp of smoke that drifts towards the ceiling.

He watched you, the quiet intimacy of the moment settling over you. It’s comfortable, easy. Just like it always is. Except… tonight feels different. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, maybe it’s the intensity of the sex, or maybe it’s something else entirely.

He turns his body softly to you, a self-doubtful smile playing on his lips. “Uh, so I clearly fucked my way out of the friend zone.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken suggestions. You take a drag from your cigarette again, the nicotine stinging your throat.

“And you’re about to speak your way back into the friend zone,” you say, your voice flat but a hint of playfulness hides beneath it.

He laughs, a short sound rumbling from his throat. “Ouch. Harsh, but fair.” You stub out the cigarette in the ashtray, then he turns to face you fully.

He reaches out, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “Y’know, you actually look really attractive when you smoke your death sticks.”

You chuckle, rolling your eyes deliberately at his comment, it was certainly not the first time he has called you out on your habit, but almost never in a negative way, at least it did not seem like it to you.

“Is someone catching real feelings now?”

“Oh shove it up your ass.” he jokes, a mischievous glint sparkling in his eyes.

“There’s certainly something else I would love to have shoved up my ass.”

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹🃜 . yappin claudia : i fell asleep while writing this and half of it didn’t save last night, had to write it all over again 💔 .

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹🃜 . taglist : @strnilolover @ifwdominicfike @favoriteangelofgod @courta13 @sturns-mermaid @sturnsc @sophand4n4 . . . .

47 notes · View notes

lichenes · 6 months ago

Text

#1 dad(dy)

based on those tweets/tumblr posts: ⓪ ① ② ③ ④ ⑤ ⑥ ⑦ CW: mentions of smoking, actor au wc: 571 . * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ . * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚. * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚. * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚. * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚

The sound of clapperboard was heard as the day of filming began. “Today, due to immense demand, Gabriel Fouché, will be reading your thirst tweets!” Said the director with a bright smile. A part of the contract with the studio recording “Arcane” was to take part in a few interviews, this one was a bit- unusual for him.

“RIP to Silco, you would’ve loved vaping ‘bandaged heart’, you would’ve been doing crazy smoke tricks on tiktok ‘R. N’.” He chuckled. “What does R, N mean?” Laughs could be heard behind the cameras. Someone answered. “Right now.” Gabriel nodded.

“Well I did have to learn how to smoke cigars and do tricks with the smoke for the role. I do have to admit I am a habitual cigarette smoker so it was infinitely easier to master the art.” He paused for a moment. “As for the tiktok tricks - I’m a jughead when it comes to technology so unless there would be someone doing all the recording… you aren’t seeing those videos any time soon.”

“The children yearn for the mines, and my photo underneath it.” He burst out laughing, putting his hand on his mouth. “Ahahah- okay, okay. Yeah they do.”

“I think about this Silco moment every day, my god he’s so hot here.” Gabriel tilted his head. “Hmm… it seems most fans of Silco find him most attractive when he’s kicking the camera. I wonder why.” He put his hand on his chin in faux thought and then laughed.

“Sorry but older Silco ‘greater-than’ young Silco. I actually have to disagree on that.” He said. “Younger Silco was in one scene and he captured so many hearts, both on set and amongst the viewers, that Older Silco didn’t manage to do with all his screen time. Younger Silco is something special…”

“Hashtag Zaundads, actually!” Gabriel got closer to the camera and put his hand to his mouth almost as to whisper a secret. “Me and Gerard actually kissed to prepare for the alternate universe episode, to really get into character, you know.” Gasps were heard in the studio. “I’m joking.” He said winking towards the camera.

“Silco’s left eye is missing eyelids so I guess he was sleeping like this every night. Exactly what happened I can attest to that.” He nodded solemnly. “Actually, SIlco just doesn’t sleep ever, that’s how he runs Zaun, he does not let his guard down even for a moment. Poor guy, he needs to relax more.”

“P, L, S - please, I assume? - Stop posting Silco thirst he looks like my dad, and a comment left under that, is your dad single? I’d love to meet my doppelganger! Send me a message and we shall schedule it.” He said half-joking as an email popped up on the screen.

“And the final one- okay who the hell was all over my dash two years ago thirsting over Silco, I understand you now. I want his whole wardrobe and he can read the dictionary to me until I fall asleep. I actually have a deal to voice a certain someone in a new project we’ve been working on with the cast so keep your eyes open!” He said. “And as for my wardrobe, I’ve seen some pretty talented people replicating my outfits! So it’s clearly easy to steal Silco’s wardrobe.”

“Thank you all for watching!!” He exclaimed with his million dollar smile as the cameras stopped rolling.

. * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ . * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚. * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚. * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚. * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚

masterlist

#writing #silco #arcane silco #silco arcane #arcane #arcane spoilers #arcane s1 #actor au arcane #arcane backstage au #actor au #crackfic #crack fic #silico #silico arcane #silico x reader #arcane actor au #silco actor au #silico actor au

77 notes · View notes

baxndaid · 9 months ago

Text

human vox

x reader 📺⛽🎤

an ; request more vox pls i love him, most of this is just me yapping

The year was 1952 and you worked in the upcoming film and TV industry. While it was just a small job reading through scripts to find typos or getting coffee for the more important figures, it was a job nonetheless and you enjoyed it.

A new show had quickly skyrocketed in popularity since its debut, a game show where you would have to answer questions in order to win the, most likely branded, items. Something like a washing machine or a supply of toothpaste. If the producers felt generous that day however, the prizes would rise in value, the show once giving away a brand new sleek black Fiat 1900. While the simple yet new and exciting premise of the show might’ve drawn viewers in, the host of the show made them stay. He was charming and handsome, he always dressed the part with a dapper suit and his hair was always done perfectly. Whenever he spoke, it was like the whole stage brightened up a bit, at least, that’s what you thought. His stage name was Vox, you never really liked that name - too sharp and aggressive, you thought. His real name was Vince, and you liked it better, though you’d never tell him that. You hardly ever had any interactions with the man other than handing him the script that the sponsors wanted him to yap about. He was charming, and you liked him - unfortunately it was just a pipe dream. You didn’t bother chasing after him considering you were just a small time employee while he was the face of the whole show, thousands of American women had their eyes on him especially when they turned their black and white TVs on between 5-6PM.

Fortunately for you, the producers had caught a glimpse of you backstage and wanted to spice up the show a bit. It was getting boring, other than the host himself there was nobody else the audience could attach themselves to. So, naturally, the best idea would be to introduce a beautiful woman, who was smart and shy - the “role model” if you will. You fit the bill, and how could you say no? You would be beloved by every household for your wholesome nature, (and especially loved by all the men in unhappy marriages and liked looking at the young women on screen.) And if you won? you could keep the winnings.

And you would win, because the show was now rigged in your favor.

Simply put, they wanted to paint you as the underdog, the vulnerable lady who simply wanted a chance to make some money. So when you would answer every question, even the ridiculous ones, correctly, the audience would gasp in disbelief at your amazing hidden knowledge and then tune into the next episode to see more of you and Vox. The truth was, the only thing hidden was Vox sliding you the answers to each question onto your desk. It was genius, really, the producers seemed to love the idea and so did Vox. Anything for ratings. You were still a little apprehensive, but you couldn’t back down after already signing the contract.

After winning one episode and becoming around $10,000 richer, Vox strategically pulled you in for a hug and gave you a polite kiss on the cheek to congratulate you for your “victory” in front of the camera. He was an amazing actor, you thought as he said his goodbyes to the audience and the cameras stopped rolling. Maybe he should ditch this studio and try his luck in Hollywood.

Once the room was no longer focused on Vox, he turned to you, his smile less big and forced and a lot more casual, “That was your first taste of show business, how’d you find it? Pretty nifty eh?” He prodded you with his elbow gently.

“Yeah, it was um- different… to what I usually do.”

“Oh yeah, forgot you worked here prior.” He looked at you up and down as he pulled a cigarette and lighter out from his pocket, “Say, since you and I are going to be working with each other from now on, why don’t we blow this antsville and I’ll buy you a drink?”

As he waited for your answer he placed the cigarette in his mouth and lit it. You were surprised and albeit excited by his offer, but you decided not to go out drinking with a famous guy in the middle of the afternoon. Something something responsible adult.

"A drink? Oh, I don't know about that sir... It's rather late."

He scoffed and exhaled, a puff of smoke engulfed you as you coughed. "Don't be such a square." He looked at your face again whilst bringing the stick up to his lips once more, "And don't call me sir, makes me seem old. Call me Vince," He paused, "Or Vox, I don't really give a rats ass."

You nodded and took a small step away from him in a pathetic attempt to get away from the smoke. He smirked.

"I take it you don't smoke?"

You shook your head

"Look at you, I'm not surprised." He took another draw of his cigarette, "So, about that drink?"

You were going to be honest, you couldn't say no. He was so unbelievably pushy that it was practically impossible to turn him down without feeling like shit afterwards. He was THE Vox, America's beloved host! How dare you even think of saying no. So here you were, in his luxurious house, sat on his couch that probably cost more than your entire living room, and with a glass of expensive scotch in hand that he generously poured you.

He returned with his own glass and sat down next to you, laying his free arm behind your head. He took a sip, his gaze never leaving yours,

"You're a pretty thing, can't believe you haven't been casted already, or snatched up by some of the big dogs like Vogue." He said, a smile plastered on his face. "I think you and I will get along just fine."

_____

As he predicted, you and Vox did indeed get on well, normally chatting (gossiping) about who knows what in his dressing room after work. He had told you about his old job as a TV salesmen, and how he has this weird hatred for radios. Something about them being outdated and boring. You never understood. He learnt a lot about you too, your past relationships, your family, your favourite animals - you two grew close and he relished in the idea of getting even closer. The network had given you another job since you could only appear on Vox's show so many times. It was a higher paying job but not all that stressful since you now had someone to talk to about it.

The press had caught wind of your friendship and naturally began to speculate on it. You won his gameshow 3 times now, maybe you simply slept with him in order to get the answers? Maybe it was luck? Are you two truly just friends or are you dating? Or just putting on a show?

Vox loved it, he loved your flushed face whenever you'd read the title of a gossip paper involving you and your new friend, he loved touching you a little more intimately whenever you two were hanging out in public, and he especially enjoyed kissing your hand or cheek under the guise of being a gentleman in front of any fans that just so happened to meet them out and about. Luckily for you, these rumours went nowhere and remained as simple speculation. Did he want you? yes, he couldn't even deny it. You were funny and understanding, even when he wasn't in a good mood. You knew so much about him and he knew so much about you - the fact that you were gorgeous was just a plus. Additionally, you were fantastic for his public image; a darling little thing like you attached to his hip just fuelled his already massive ego since he loved showing you off. The only problem was - you were as dense as a brick. He often got a little frustrated since his flirtatious efforts were fruitless; you couldn't tell if he was being for real or just acting for publicities sake, so you opted on just ignoring his romantic (and sexual) remarks towards you.

And don't think for a second that you'll be getting a real soppy confession from him either. He would buy you expensive clothes and take you out to fancy dinners, he would hold your hand while you crossed the street together and he would cuss anybody out if they were pissing you off. His feelings for you would be confirmed by him sloppily kissing you on his desk one random afternoon after a few drinks and tears; maybe not the most romantic way to say "I love you" but it was close enough for him and close enough for you too.

125 notes · View notes

tonixe · 1 year ago

Text

FAME

A/N: Ideas are blooming out of nowhere, low-key this is a lot to unpack, make sure to read the warning and if your uncomfortable, don't read it, I hope you guys having a blessed day today, xoxo, there might be a part two.

WARNING: p in the v, penetration, unprotected sex, coercion, abuse of power, cheating, objectification, misogyny, reader being a sex symbol, abuse drugs, mentions of alcohol/drinking, abuse, non-con to dub-con, drugging, usage of cigarettes, Viewer discretion is advised...

PAIRING: President!coriolanus x singer!reader

WORD COUNTER: 4.0k

Fame is a word that represents many things: dream coming true,, all-the-world luxury opening up, money funneling up, and all the reasons to climb up to the top of the food chain. Becoming the apex predator, a name..NOBODY can wipe off, you're initially written on a golden star, your name carved into history, your identity being remembered.

The recognition of your voice, your face, your personality being known to a single name, all of your greatness tied together into one body, one soul, something that doesn't grow on trees. It was fame you desired, that your heart yearned for putting all your time, and energy into a puzzle that fits into the right corner of your life. You wanted to live forever, you wanted to fly up join the ones who inspired and gave you the drive to work, you wanted to make it, make it to that heaven.

People looking at you, you wanted them to cry in desperation to get your attention, you wanted them to remember your name for history, into textbooks something that can never go away so easily, carved into people's brains...that what you dreamed of, lights flashing in your eyes, the glaring hurting you bit of bit, but this what you worked for to be recognize by the ones above, holding onto a golden trophy you won by yourself, you felt like you made it. On a stage, a platform, where the camera flashed you. Your image being printed on the news, your appearance being broadcasted to the media, fans screaming your name from the outside, important people looking at you, impressed. This was your moment, you learned how to fly, and you worked for it. Your identity being secured into history...they have to remember, but...why weren't you not happy, not secure.

Growing out of the district scum, becoming a household name, rising up to the Capitol, and earning identity there...now you sat at the vanity looking at the mirror before one of your shows, one of the makeup artists painting your lips in a rouge color, your e/c eyes looking into the mirror. You would always dream of this moment coming to life, your mother braiding your hair, humming one of your childhood songs. She, herself wanted to be a singer but couldn't because of her status and pregnancy, though living in the district..you had a wonderful home, one that wasn't broken, but one in a broken society, where people in the district were given the name of disgust by the highly 'elevated' individuals in the Capitol.

You wanted to leave, bring your family, and give them a home they deserved as much as you. You hated the district and hated you had an up-bringing there.

A flash of nostalgia ran through your mind being interrupted by a tech, "Y/N, 30 minutes before showtime" You listened to the announcement, flickering your eyes away from the staffer, and you raised your hands up, stopping the makeup artist from moving her brush. "Could you leave the room?" you said, listening to the footsteps receding away from you.

You took out a flask, screwed the lid open, and taking a swig of the bitter liquid, the burning and painful sensation coursing down your throat. Your chest heaving, putting your hands on the vanity table gripping the table, closing your eyes, biting down on your lip. Anxiety bubbling in your chest, looking up at yourself in the mirror, it felt like a million things running through your mind. You manage to slip away from the thought by the knocks on the door, turning your head at the sound, the door clicking open..."Y/N, 5 minutes to Showtime" One of the staffers said, giving yourself one last look, getting up from the vanity, fixing up your hair. The clicks of your heels on the porcelain tiles, tech staffers giving you a mic, and earpiece, as your makeup team fixes up your face and hair, finish up the last touches.

You were ridden with anxiety, butterflies flying in your stomach with every step you took, each leading you closer to the stage, where important people stood, you were going to sing to for celebration of the 15th hunger games, you took breaths in between your steps, fuck..you really need a cigarette.

Listening to your cue, smoothing your off-the-shoulder red velvet dress. "You're up," one of the techs said, tapping your shoulder, slipping you away from your head, as you nodded and cleared your throat. Walking onto the stage, you felt eyes on you..everywhere, setting yourself behind the microphone stand, closing your eyes, as the music started playing, the melody of the piano, the keys bringing in the familiar tune, as the band began to play following the notes of the leading piano.

Your hands on the microphone. Feeling the heat of the stage light hitting your form, making you wince.

Formation of words slipping from your lips as it became a symphony into the song, your voice dancing with the delicate notes of the piano.

The angelic voice coming from your lips, the words slipping out of your mouth, enchanting the audience. The feeling of anxiety leaving your system, as you pour your heart into the piece, every note you hit brings you relax, flickering your eyes open, glancing to the audience staring at your elevated form. The orchestra of people, filled with important and big shots in the Capitol, staring at you, enchanted with your voice, your eyes following up.

To the balcony, as you felt the end of the song, your eyes looking at the familiar figure on the balcony boxes, your eyes slightly widen as you made eye contact with the gentleman...Coriolanus Snow, the president of Panem. You felt your heart drop at the figure, feeling your vocal cords stretching as you hit a high note finishing the song, you maintained eye contact. as the band played the outro, with your voice leading off,

Finally notes ending it off, as you heard a rain of applause ringing to your ears, looking at the President of Panem raising his hands and clapping for you..you bowed down, your head turning up, giving a glance up at the President.

Walking off the stage backstage, "Fuck, give me a cigarette, now!" you exclaimed, as one of the assistants gave you a box, putting a stick on your lips, as she gives you a lighter, igniting up the end of the cigarette. Blowing a cloud of smoke through your nose, walking down to your stage room combing your hair, trying to relieve your stress, sitting down on the vanity chair. Placing the cancer stick between your lips, leaning in the seat..."You were breathtaking out there" You immediately turned your head to the voice, Coriolanus walked in, closing the door, his hands in his pockets.

"Mr. President" You stood up from the chair, pushing your dress, and smashing the burning cigarette in the ashtray. "You don't need to stand up," He stated, you felt butterflies in your stomach. You didn't want to sit back down since you were afraid to disrespect the leader of the nation. You heard his footsteps inching closer to you, "Where did you learn to sing like that?" He asked, circling around your figure. You would have never dreamt for this to happen to you, "My mother taught me" You answered shortly, your eyes lingering on your hand. "I bet your mother was a gorgeous singer as you" He responded, glancing at you, you giggled at the comment, "She was.." you responded,

He watches your facial expression saddened, "Looks like you and me have something in common...already" he lightly chuckles, walking to the bar cart, your eyes following him hesitantly, glancing at your hands. "Drink?" He offers, you nod. His fingers circled the opening of the cup, taking out two cups and placing in on the counter of the table, pouring the mahogany liquid into the cups. Taking the liquid-filled cups and offering the cup to you, as you took the glass.

The cool cup touched your palm, "Cheers" He said, lifting the cup towards you, gesturing a cheer. Lifting your glass slightly before taking a sip of the mahogany liquid.

Smiling to yourself as you drank, glancing up at the gentleman. "If I can ask..why are you visiting me, President" You held the cup slightly tighter, "I wanted to offer you something," He said, his body moving closer to you. He saw as your eyes lit up in excitement, making him chuckle at the sight, his hands lifting your chin up slightly, his fingers caressing your cheek, your lips parting looking up at his crystal blue eyes.

"I need you to use that pretty voice of yours at a ceremony I'm hosting" He tilts your head to the side, admiring your face your eyes to your nose and lips, "You'll be of course paid in full, and suitable one indeed..so you won't have to use that pretty head" he brushes a strand of hair over your ear, "So..what do you think?" He said, withdrawing his hands away from you. You felt your heart pumping, as you thought about it, not wanting to take too long, but you nodded at his words, "Good, I'll send letters and updates on it" He finishes, before he finishes the whiskey in his cup till it was gone, putting the glass down. Taking your hand and leaving a kiss on the back of your hand, "But for now..I'll have to take my leave" He said, you took your hand away from him. Your eyes followed him, you couldn't formulate any words to him but nodded as he gave you a final look goodbye. The click of the door leads you into reality.

Putting your hand on your heart, feeling it beating against your chest.

Time slipped by..days to months

You got the letters, reading them in your penthouse resigning in Capitol. Some of them weren't just business but Coriolanus writing to you. His words made you smile, though from the short time you met him, but you were grateful he came to you.

Under his influence made you thrive, your fame, and notoriety spreading...

Playing with your hair as you read every single word on the page. You did follow out with his words, performing once again at one of his parties.. fixing up your hair, puffing your hair up, and turning yourself in the mirror, at the red satin dress Coriolanus gifted you. Smoothing the fabric out near your stomach, looking at yourself in the mirror. Hearing footsteps coming into the room, as you turned, relaxing at the sight of Coriolanus.

He was wearing his signature suit, a bloody red suit with a white tucked-in shirt. In his hand was a bouquet of red roses, "For you" He gave you the bouquet of roses, holding them to your chest. "Thank you" you smiled at him, as you smelt the roses, glancing at him. A smirk painted on his lips, his hands lifting your head, "Make sure you use that pretty voice of yours, my dove..." He whispered as you felt his hands on your waist, making your cheeks flushed.

Though you never had the time to learn more about Coriolanus, your heart yearned for him, the more he talked and sent letters to you. You never really thought about how he was touchy with you, though you enjoyed it...you always felt anxious when your with him.

You hear your name being called, as you place the bouquet of roses in one of the staffer's arms, telling them to put them in a vase for you, glancing at Coriolanus form, as you smile at him. Your heels clicking onto the tile, walking down to the stage, your ears listening to the rain of applause as you walk to the mic. Your stomach was filled with butterflies but you looked to the side, and your eyes caught the sight of Coriolanus smiling at you. Your eyes flickered from him, as you smiled.

You opened your lips, familiar angelic notes coming out of your lips. Singing your emotion out as it sympathizes with the melody, holding the mic as your voice leads to the chorus. Your eyes sparkle in the spotlight, singing your heart out into a simple melody, enchanting as it was, given by the audience's eyes staring at you. Something that you made you sweat and have butterflies swirling in your stomach, anxious assume you bit by bit, but it was always washed away when you thought of the rewarding end you were going to get.

Word slipping from you, pouring your soul and heart out to the listening audience, as they watched you, leading into the interlude and to the climax, your voice projecting to the audience as you sang the last parts as the piano lead off with your voice. The rain of applauses, the sound of clapping made you smile as you bow down, the spotlight never leaving you. Your heart was still pounding but you smile through it. Walking from the stage to the backstage, being greeted by Coriolanus, "You were heavenly" He whispered to you, you relaxed, smiling at him. "Thank you" you felt your cheeks warming up at his praise.

His hands dancing on your waist, leaning towards you, "Let's get out of here" He whispers to you, taking your hand into his, "W-wait, don't you have to stay here, President.." You stuttered, "I have a more important thing to do" He whispered in your ear, hearing a smirk in his voice as he took your hand.

Leading you out of the theatre, feeling the wind through your hair, parting your lips at the night sky, the stars sparkling in the dark sky. As he led you to the chauffeur, opening the car door for as you enter, the door clicking besides you as he got onto the left side of the car. He said the chauffeur something that you couldn't decipher. You felt yourself sweating and your heart quicken the slight tension in the air, as you felt the car moving. You didn't know how to react or what to do, your eyes darting everywhere expect him, glancing at him, his eyes glance at you, you looked away from him. You felt his hand touching your thigh, feeling him slightly gripping it. "Are you scared?" You felt your throat getting dry, your eyes looking everywhere expect his, his fingers grazing underneath your upper thigh, your eyes darting to his hand, before him. "No.." you respond.

"If your aren't..why are you afraid of me?" He mutter, "I-i just never been in this situation before" You cleared your throat, a awkward giggles leaving your throat, putting your hand over his hand.

"So...your a virgin?" He said, you are frozen in your seat, words unable to leave your lips, hesitantly nodding at him, giggling at his comment. "So, you still have your thorns...untouched, innocent, unripe " His body inching closer to you, "Funny how Panem sex symbol, is a virgin isn't it?" He chuckled, and you reluctantly laughed with him, naive as you were, you did know what would happen if you followed him. Needless to say, your heart was thumping, feeling the car stopping as the chauffeur said something. "We're here" He muttered, you felt thankful for that moment in time, his hands withdrawing from you, as you both got out of the car.

Your eyes looked at the new environment you were in, the manor was huge, something that only existed with old money, and it was beautiful with the pillar adoring the house. He chuckled with your eyes exploring the house, "Follow" He ordered, as you obeyed, following him inside. The Peacekeepers guarding the manor opened the big door and you both walked into a more beautiful interior.

"It's gorgeous" Your looked up at the chandelier glittering in the lights, "I'm glad you like it" He smiled at you, his footsteps receding from you, as you followed him further into the manor, everything was captivating, something you would only find at the capitol. You were taken from your thought by his words, as he spoke out to you...you realized where he took you, the parlor. You immediately sat on the sofa, it was comfortable and soft, "Drink?" he offered, his luxurious leather shoes on the delicate tile, "Sure" you nodded, your eyes lingering on your hands in your lap, "What type?" He asked, "Anything" You quickly answered, and you deep inhaled and exhaled through your nose. "Have you tried Bourbon?" He asked you heard the glass on the wooden counter.

"No, never bourbon..I'm more of a Jack Daniels girl" You awkwardly giggled, and he poured the caramel liquid into the short glasses, your eyes dawdling on your hands. Before you heard his footstep coming closer to you, offering you a glass, you took it. "Thank you" you smiled, the cool caramel liquid swishing in the glass, looking at him, gesturing a 'cheers', you nodded, looking at the liquid before consuming the liquid till nothing was in the glass. The liquid was sweet, and bitter due the its alcoholic nature but was satisfying. "It's really good" You put your hand on your lip, smiling, a smirk on his lips, "I told you," He said, as he sipped the liquid.

"It's sweet, like vanilla" You beamed, he nodded at your words, your angelic voice dripping from your lips, feeling a buzzing noise in your ear, everything moving slowly around you. Your vision blurring, "Y-yeah" your words slurred, your eyes getting heavy. Blinking, before closing your eyes as you felt everything go black,

Your eyes fluttered open, your body was frozen.. you couldn't feel your legs, fingers, or moving your head. You felt cold, bare...lewd sounds engulfing your ears. Your eyes darted to the ceiling, parting your lips, you heard grunts coming near you.

Your irises slowly look forth, you felt cold, ice cold... your heart dropping at the scene. A half-naked Coriolanus on you, his hands groping every part of exposed skin. Your dress was ripped, the one he gifted you. Your boob spilled out, displayed for him, his dick dragging into you. You were frozen still.

You wanted to scream, cry, but only hoarse noises escaping your throat, tears escaping your eyes slipping away staining your cheek. Your awakening wasn't unnoticed by Coriolanus, "You awake" Your eyes stared at his form, forcing himself inside of you. Sweat dripped off his forehead as his hands touched your skin, it felt like stabs everywhere. Betrayal settled in, it was quite naive of you, letting a man you never had the chance for yourself to know, allowing the intimate touches on your body.

You got the hint, but you ignored them purposely, maybe it was a warning for him to stop or continue..you didn't know what to think. The act of being vulnerable in front of him was a mistake, his moans and groans snapping you out of thought. You felt bile rising in your throat, you wanted to vomit, throw up, cry...but you could merely just listen and stare at the atrocities being committed. It hurt everywhere hurts, "Fuck, you feel so good around me" he groans, a sickening smirk on his lips..." please" you manage to force out from your throat, you felt tears pricking up on your waterline.

He laughed at your simple words, "please what?" he sneered, "stop" You had some type of hope in you... your lack of formulating sentence made him laugh pitifully, "Sorry my dove, it's just an exchange, company policy" his fingers caressing your cheek, as you stared in disbelief at his words. Whether you were angry, shocked, or sad, you didn't know what to believe or to know or to do. You just laid there taking the bit of pain, of his assault. "Why... I-I never asked for anything,, Corio" you sniffled, you purposely let the nickname slip, hoping it made him have a little humanity still left inside of him to stop, his hands gripping onto your waist, making you groan in pain, "I gave you everything, without my influence, your just be a lowly singer in Capitol born to be overshadowed by other more talented people, more younger, more pretty.., better than that lowly voice you from with..." He reduced you to tears, the more he talked, wet tears dripping from your eyes, he laughed.

He was mocking you.

"Did you just think, people just liked your voice... I thought you knew better than that...your looks pays off for your lack of personality" He kept on talking, and you hoped he would just stop and shut up, but the little words coming from him, made you cry.

"Besides...just be a good girl, and take it, will you..." He murmured.

His haunting groans and moans left his lips, staring into blankness. You wanted to hate the assault, but the agonizing pain turns into pleasure due to your discontent. The blooming sensation made you moan, and you arched your back in bliss, "I told you...you would bend into my touch" he whispered, nestling his head in the curve of your neck, his lips marking kisses from your neck to your collarbone, "Your take me so well" He smirks...

Time drifted away from you, you wanted to forget what happened between you and Coriolanus, but he wouldn't allow it, he still sent letters and gifts to your home... every time you looked at the address you felt like vomiting, crying, screaming. You still performed, you couldn't allow some fling to prevent you from maintaining what is important to you, your career. But months passed, and you stared at yourself in the mirror, you were visibly getting bigger, around your abdomen area. When Coriolanus demanded your presence you would obey and go, and it would always lead to intimacy...but now you are in his bed once again, stripped bare. His hands danced around your collarbone as you sat in his lap, his fingers playing with your hair, leaving kisses against your skin.

You felt like you were caged, with only yourself to talk to, though you already knew, beforehand. But you never felt so alone when your accompanied by Coriolanus, you debated on telling him the news, or keeping it to yourself but he was bound to know. He has eyes and ears around the Capitol, the districts, and all over Panem, you had no safe opinion left.

"Coriolanus.." He stopped mid-way, his eyes staring at you, yours forward. "I'm pregnant" the words slipped out of your throat, "It's yours" you finished, finally looking him in the eye...he didn't move or react, it made you scared, before he smiled, marking a kiss on your shoulder. "You would be a good mother" His hands shifted from your collarbone to your stomach, rubbing it gently. You didn't know how to feel, part of you didn't want any of it, forced by the pregnancy and burden of having a child you didn't want.

You were scared of confessing to him, leaning to his touch, you felt yourself being vulnerable around him, "Will, we marry?" Your eyes flickered to his, before he took your hand into his palm, rubbing your ring finger, "What would you prefer, a ruby or diamond" He said playfully, "Whatever you think is perfect for me" You replied, your eyes shifting from him to the color stained window, it was snowing. You felt his lips on your neck, nuzzling his head in the crevice of your neck.

TIME

It passed, the ring on your finger...your eyes hazy, looking at yourself in the mirror, you felt humiliated in yourself. White dust stained on your nose, feeling the light of your feet, pleased with the drug taking its effect. You were wearing your wedding dress, it was white, lacy, and poofy. Dried tears smudging your cheeks, you really hated yourself, a white veil hiding from the mirror...you desired to drink yourself away in alcohol, the only thing you could do, but due to Coriolanus surveillance he wouldn't allow it, not the mother of his child to harm herself or the baby, he made sure to hide everything that could possibly harm you or the child. Sending you away in your shared chambers, where you sulked and waited for him.

Your legs moving under your weight, a random man who was supposed to be your father, holding your arm. Leading down the aisle, superficial people around you, examining you, staring... judgment on their faces.

You're used to it, as the gentleman left you before your future husband, Coriolanus. You strolled up the stairs, your eyes locking with Coriolanus, who gave you a smile. His hands taking yours, your eyes lifted to his, before the priest said some words that you blurred out, staring at Coriolanus. The only one that stuck with you was, "You may kiss the bride" He said, Coriolanus flipping the veil, revealing your face, as he kissed you, you closed your eyes.

Hearing applause from the audience withdraws from his lips. "You'll be a wonderful wife" He fixed your veil, rubbing your hands.

You just nodded and smiled, knowingly signing yourself to him, throwing the key, and selling yourself, your soul, your rights, and your body to him alone..you wished to just rewind time and never lock eyes with him in the theatre.

The mere thought made you tear up, as tears managed to escape..and Coriolanus came to your rescue and wiped them away.

302 notes · View notes

hattedhedgehog · 2 years ago

Text

I'm so happy to have finished my Kinnporsche the Series posca marker illustrations! I planned these out earlier this year and it took a long time to get in the right headspace for them. In the end, after multiple Kinnporsche rewatches and months of putting them off, I finished them all in about a week.

This show is so visually stunning, and I thought the vibrance of posca markers would be the best way for me to show my appreciation for its creativity. The beautiful lighting is such a fun contrast with the dark themes explored.

[Image descriptions: 3 posca marker illustrations depicting characters from Thai BL series Kinnporsche.

1: Kinn, with a red and peach colour scheme against a blue background, smirking at the viewer. His colour bleeds together into Porsche's portrait, who is in blue and yellow tones, smoking a cigarette against a magenta background.

2: Vegas in red and orange tones lit by candles at the bottom left, against a dark green background, smirks towards Pete, who has a blue and pink colour scheme against a purple background. Pete holds a chain over one shoulder and smirks back.

3: Tankhun with an orange, pink and purple colour scheme turns up his nose in a pout while adjusting lip-shaped sunglasses. His 3 bodyguards behind him have a blue colour scheme with yellow highlights; Pete looks alert over his shoulder, Arm is frantically typing at a tablet, and Pol is holding a hand to his earpiece with a worried expression. The background is purple]

#kinnporsche #kinnporche the series #kinnporsche fanart #vegaspete #tankhun theerapanyakul #my art #my kinnporsche art #posca

315 notes · View notes

mothstvrnz · 3 months ago

Text

"Third Times' The Charm, Right?"

Info Masterlist Taglist

First time: Being a rising member of the BikeTok community has its requirements, including reading Haunting Adeline by H.D. Carlton, so what else is he supposed to do now that he’s got women (and probably teenage girls) in his comments asking if he’s read it or if he has it?

He has to go buy and read it.

So, that’s where he is now. Riding on the back of his Kawasaki Ninja H2, headed towards Barnes and Noble, which should have Haunting Adeline, at least according to the lady he spoke with on the phone.

As he approaches the unnecessarily big book store (It’s very necessary), he can’t help but notice signs on the lamp posts in the parking lot. “Come meet the author of the hit dark romance book Cigarettes and Roses,” He stops reading there, recognizing the book. He had gotten a few comments recommending he read that as well. The woman on the poster is gorgeous. Fucking goddess level of beauty. Curiosity sparks and now he’s eager to meet you. If he’s lucky, you might still be inside.

What better thing to flex on your viewers (besides a sexy motorcycle) than a signed dark romance book? Nothing. So it wouldn’t hurt to run in and grab a signed copy, right?

He parks his bike towards the front and walks up to the front doors of the grand store, the fluorescent lights showing a long line of women and teenage girls waiting to get the book signed. Fun. He flicks the visor on his sleek black helmet up as he opens the door to step in, getting a few lingering stares in response.

He looks to the left to see a large shelf of Cigarettes and Roses, along with a few special editions left with burning roses on the pages, the cover of the book looking significantly more enticing. He walks over, feeling the eyes of a teen girl on him, glancing over his shoulder as his gloved hands linger on top of one of the few special edition books left, he nods at the young brunette girl who blushes up a storm and immediately turns to whom must be her sister or friend.

He chuckles softly before grabbing the book, immediately heading towards the cash register to pay for the novel. He quickly pays for the book before stepping into line, trying to peek around to see the author of the book he’s holding, but has no luck. He holds back an annoyed sigh and turns the book around to read the teaser.

To say you’re freaking out is an understatement. You totally hadn’t noticed the biker walking through the door or stepping into your line, because who in their right mind would find a random man they haven’t even seen the face of attractive?

Spoiler alert: you would.

“So, what’s your name?” You ask after looking back to the woman in front of you. “Maria.” The blonde says with a sweet smile, your eyes catching her freckles. “That’s a pretty name. M-A-R-I-A, I assume?” You ask while checking if the Sharpie in your hand has enough juice to write this name on a spare piece of paper. “Yup!” She says as you go to write the name on the inside of the cover.

“I like your freckles, makes us match.” You say with an awkward chuckle while you hand her the book with your signature. “Dumbass, what if she’s insecure about her freckles?” You internally scold yourself as she gives you a half-assed smile before walking away, making people in the line move ever so slightly. You rub your wrist slightly before looking up to see your next fan, but something else happens.

Shit looks like it’s out of some trashy rom-com movie the way people move, creating the perfect view to your motorcycle-helmet-wearing fan. He’s reading the back of your cover, his gloved hands gripping the special edition, making your eyes widen slightly. Every thought leaves your mind as you stare at him. You hold off from looking any longer and look back to the fans in front of you. “Uh, sorry.” You say quickly and quietly as you look in front of you. A teenage girl and her mother hand you their two books. “No worries!” The mom, well, who you assume is her mother, chuckles.

“What names can I put?” You ask while glancing at the biker before looking at the people in front of you. “Sarah and Teryn. S-A-R-A-H and T-E-R-Y-N” The teen says, making you nod as a response. You quickly sign both of their books, adding little smiley faces to their names with a dry mouth and throat, undoubtedly excited for a very specific person to reach your table.

The poster hadn’t done you justice.

You’re perfect. Even more gorgeous in person. Your face is littered in little freckles with cute glasses perched on your nose in a way that reflects the bright lights in the store. He’s never seen such a beautiful woman, and he can already tell he'd do anything for this goddess walking on earth. Do anything for you.

He moves up a few steps in the line, suddenly even more eager to reach your table. He glances up at you, eager to see your soft eyes and freckles again. The two teens he saw from earlier are up at your table now, both clearly excited to meet their favorite author. He chuckles as they eagerly pass over their books while pulling pink and gold sharpies out of their pockets.

He watches as you take the girls’ sharpies with a smile that makes his stomach do flips, signing one with the gold and the other with the pink.. They take out their phones, to take pictures with you, making Matt smile while they say another thank you. He watches as you smile softly while another person approaches you.

The line doesn't move fast enough to his liking, he's quickly getting impatient with the speed of his bouncing leg increasing. Finally, fucking finally, he closer to your table. He can’t help but notice the way a small blush dusts your cheeks before going back to signing the book.

As he gets up to your table you try to compose yourself, but don’t do exactly well as your throat and mouth stay dried up. You take a deep breath as your eyes are drawn to his icy blue ones that peek through his helmet, a black balaclava covering any other features of his face. You clearly stare as he clears his throat with a small chuckle. “Matthew. You can write Matthew.” He says with a wolfish smile forming even though you can't see the curve of his lips.

You realize you’re staring and clear your throat as you look down to the book that’s already open in front of you. You don't know more than his name, voice, and the color of his eyes and you'd already let him into your life (bed). You quickly gather what's left of your composure, and take a deep breath. “Matthew? M-A-T-T-H-E-W?” You ask slowly, hoping to draw out this interaction.

His deep voice hums in approval with a little voice in your head upset you didn't get to hear his smooth voice. Despite the ache in your wrist from writing, you use the best writing you have all night long, adding a little heart next to his name. “Here you go, Matthew.” You say with a sweet smile, your glasses sliding down your nose slightly. His name tastes sweet and smooth on your lips, making your tongue poke out from between your teeth and lightly coat your lips.

His gloved hands reach to pick up the book you wrote, the tips of his fingers brushing against yours in a way that seems far from accidental. “Thank you,” Matthew says before slowly stepping out of line. He can’t wait to see you again. You watch as he walks past the shortening line of people, eyes trained on him as far as the front doors.

.・。.・゜✭・❤・✫・゜・。.

Second Time: You’re busy, so busy. You’ve got another book signing coming up soon and you need to write the rough draft for chapter seven of a new book you’re hoping to publish in a couple years.

So, the logical decision is to clear your entire schedule for the day and run to Maverik for an unhealthy amount of Monsters, because if you’re gonna’ write all day and night, you’ll need the precious caffeine.

As you drive into the parking lot, you notice a sleek black and green Kawasaki Ninja H2 parked right in front of the doors. You stop while your eyes trace over each and every delicate design before continuing to walk.

Your lucky day.

You got to see a biker at the book signing, and now here. You pull the Maverik door open and step into the familiar gas station, eyes looking for a helmet of sorts. You don’t spot anything immediately and ignore the faint whisper of disappointment in your mind as you walk towards the fridges of drinks on the far left side of the building, and hidden behind shelves hiding the view of the fridges, do you find the biker. Except, if you look closely, the helmet of this biker is the same as the one you saw at the book signing. Coincidence? Probably. Do you want it to be? No.

He’s looking inside the fridge with all the Monsters, two of the new Blue Hawaiian flavor in his left hand while he reaches for the white one with his right. “So he has good taste.” You think to yourself as you approach the other fridge with Monsters and grab the mocha coffee flavor, trying to ignore the burning feeling of eyes on you.

“Is that one any good? Haven’t decided if I should try any of the coffee ones yet.” A deep voice says from behind the helmet. You look towards the source and feel your cheeks heat up slightly. “The voice sounds familiar, is this the guy from the signing?” You think to yourself while you formulate a response.“Uh- yeah, yeah they are. The mocha one is the best though.” You say with a chuckle as he nods, the fluorescent lights of the gas station shining on his icy blue eyes that peek out from underneath his raised visor. “Blue eyes don’t belong to him, doesn’t make this the same person.” You remind yourself with whispering thoughts of disappointment while he glances down to the energy drink in your hand.

“Thanks, I’ll have to try them.” He says with a nod, making you smile like an idiot before grabbing another mocha one and moving out of the way. After you move, he advances towards your fridge you were just at. You walk away towards the chip aisle as his eyes burn into your skin, making goosebumps scatter across your skin.

You fix your glasses while grabbing your desired snack before rushing towards the self checkout to pay for your items and bolt right back out of the store, face hot with blush.

He chuckles as you dart away with blush dusting your cheeks, his eyes following your movements as you get into your car and back out of the gas station. He smiles softly as he goes up to the self checkout to pay for his things and head out. He has a video to post anyway, then he should have some time to sit down and read your book.

.・。.・゜✭・❤・✫・゜・。.

Third time: You’re walking out of the theatre after seeing a horror movie called The Monkey. In all honesty, it was pretty (really) stupid and did no justice to Stephen King. You wince as your eyes adjust to the bright lights outside of the pitch black room you just left.

It’s late, probably around 10pm by now, you miss the warm comfort of your bed, and you miss Banana, your cute little snake who probably misses you too. You glance down to your phone to switch off Do Not Disturb and turn your notifications back on, and when you glance back up, you’re just milliseconds away from colliding into someone’s back.

There’s no time to stop yourself from hitting into the persson, so you close your eyes as you brace for impact. “I’m so, so sorry!” You squeak as the guy you bumped into turns around, and who must be his two brothers turn around as well. “Ah, no it’s all good.” Matt says, unknowing that it’s you who bumped into him yet.

He takes a half second to look at you, and then he realizes. Soft freckles and glasses. “Oh, you wrote Cigarettes and Roses right?” He asks, a pleasantly surprised look on his face, eyes widened in surprise. “Matt, do you know her?” The guy to his left asks, a backwards baseball cap on his head with an empty bottle of Pepsi in his hands, he looks identical. Now that you take half a second to look at who are clearly his brothers, you realize they’re triplets. “Kinda? She signed the book I’m reading.” Matt says, getting a scoff from the person to his right. “You read? Since when?” He says, his star nose piercing and earrings shining under the lights. “Shut up, Nick.” Matt says before turning to you.

“I doubt you’ll remember me but I’m Matthew? I was wearing my helmet, so you couldn’t see my face.” Matt chuckles, making the pieces click together. This is the biker you saw at the book signing, and the guy you saw at the gas station. It had to be. “Yeah, I remember you now!” You chuckle, putting your phone in your pocket. “You asked me about Monsters at Maverik a while back too, right?” You ask, praying to whatever gods above that you were correct.

“Yeah. Jeez, meeting three times in the span of a month is wild.” He chuckles, his lips forming into a smile as his two brothers stand to the side, giving each other looks. “Yeah, that is pretty crazy.” You agree as Matt fishes into his back pocket. “This might be totally outta’ line, but could I get your number?” He asks, blush dusting his cheeks and ears, reminding you of the first time you received a Valentine from a boy in school.

“Oh, uh, yeah!” You chuckle, surprised at his question but nonetheless put your number into his phone, putting a little book and heart emoji by your name. “Thanks, I’ll, uh, I’ll call you sometime.” Matt says with a chuckle before stepping away with his brothers, his blue eyes seemingly falling to you any chance he got.

You walk away with a smile on your face, but not one as big as Matt’s. “Dude, it’s about time you got a girl’s number.” Chris teases as they walk out the doors and into the cool chill of the night air. “Seriously, ‘bout fucking time. ” Nick adds, getting a scoff from Matt. “I get plenty of girls’ numbers.” Matt counters as he steps into the driver’s seat and his brothers get into their respective seats.

“Sure buddy, but do you actually continue to text them?” Nick asks with a challenging smirk that goes to show he knows he’s right. “No…” Matt grumbles, getting a laugh from Chris. “Just don’t lose her, it’d be awkward to keep her signed book in your room if things don’t work out.” Chris says, getting a slap from Nick while Matt backs out. “What?!” Chris says with an offended tone. “You know what.” Nick says with a stern tone before getting on his phone.

Matt ignores the chaos of his brothers, his mind filled with possibilities for first dates.

Ack! I'm so sorry I took so long to get something out for these two, but it's here!

Let me know what you guys think of the beginning of their journey as well! I'm actually so proud of this so far and the chapters I've written that're sitting in my drafts ;)

.・。.・゜✭・❤・✫・゜・。.

Tags: @muwapsturniolo @sweetshuga

24 notes · View notes

bthemistake · 4 months ago

Text

Not super happy with this, but I'm too tired to redraw those wings lol

Hey!

While you're here, please consider showing some support to the displaced people of the Congo and follow Pappy Orion to learn more about the situation in the DRC <3

[Image Description:

Art of my original characters, Aaliyah (she/her) and 'Crow' (they/them), from a project I have been working on recently.

In the lower half of the image, Crow is lighting the cigarette in their mouth, eyes closed and head turned down, with a silver lighter in one hand while their other protects the flame from all that could snuff it out. Their short black hair is, as it always has been, a mess and they are wearing their usual sleeveless black turtleneck, along with their necklaces. They are pale with visible baggage under their eyes. A black ring is on their right hands middle finger.

Behind Crow are six black crows wings, almost framing the form of Aaliyah- who is visible from the shoulders up. Aaliyah has dark brown skin, a mole under her left eye, and long black braids of hair that are partially pulled back at the top, secured with a large white bow. The top part of her shirt opens around her shoulders, the material also white. Aaliyah looks solemnly at the viewer, sad and resigned to whatever it is she is seeing. Neither Aaliyah or Crow pay any attention to each other, but they occupy the same space, they are carried by the same wings.

End of Description.]

26 notes · View notes

bcdrawsandwrites · 5 months ago

Text

[ID: A Team Fortress 2 fic banner in the style of the game's achievement icons--specifically, the "Full Spectrum Warrior" achievement. On the left of the banner, Spy and Pyro, shown in orange silhouettes with dark gray outlines, stand together beneath a grayscale rainbow (in yellow-white, gray, and dark gray shades) on a dark gray background. Both characters have their backs to the viewer. Spy, on the left, is holding up a cigarette as he looks up, while Pyro, on the right, is holding up both his fists, shoulders hunched in an excited gesture. On the bottom right of the banner is a transparent gray rectangle with yellow-white text reading: "CHAPTER ELEVEN: FULL SPECTRUM WARRIOR" /end ID]

Flickering

Fandom: Team Fortress 2 Rating: K+ Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Friendship Characters: Spy, Pyro, Scout, Sniper, and all the other mercs. Warnings: General references to trauma and PTSD Fic Description: After the events of the comics, the mercs try to go back to how things were, but it’s never that easy.

Spy can see his teammates going through their own struggles… but something seems to be very, very wrong with Pyro in particular.

And since no one else seems to be doing anything about this, Spy makes it his mission to get to the bottom of what is troubling Pyro. For no particular reason.

Beta Readers: @mechmolar, @gonturan0, @junuve

---~~~---

Chapter 11: Full Spectrum Warrior Summary: In which Pyro is more perceptive than Spy is prepared for.

---~~~---

The shock of respawn was made all the more jarring by a cascade of cold water crashing over him.

Spy shuddered, staggering out from under the hole in the ceiling and rubbing his right wrist. His hand was intact once again, though the ribbons of blood in the rainwater still streaming out of spawn was evidence enough for what had happened. He stared down at it, frowning, before his head shot up again, whipping around the room.

No one else was there.

Before he could question this, an angry "You failed!" rang out through the base's speakers.

Well, there went their winning streak.

Reaching into his inner pocket, he pulled out his disguise kit, pleased to see his cigarettes had dried in respawn. He lit one, and strode into the doorway, waiting to meet the others on their return. Sure enough, Soldier and Sniper quickly dropped into respawn, followed by Demo and Heavy, all of them having been picked off during the humiliation round. Meanwhile, Engineer trudged up the stairs, followed by Scout and Medic.

There was no sign of the Pyro.

As those in spawn hurried out from under the cascade of rainwater, Soldier crossed his arms. "We may have tasted bitter defeat, men, but that will only make our next victory that much sweeter!"

"Aye, not a bad thought," Demo said, smiling at Soldier. However, his face fell as he turned to the Sniper, who looked a shade paler than normal as he stared down at the water at his feet. When Demo placed a hand on Sniper's shoulder, Spy looked away.

Medic and Scout looked every which way after mounting the stairs, both of them wide-eyed and shaken. "I-is it still...?" Scout stammered, looking up at Spy, who shook his head. Breathing out a sigh, Scout relaxed a fraction before swinging his arm out to gesture at spawn. "What was up with that?! I get my brains blasted by the BLU sniper and wake up to that thing—"

"Enough." Spy exhaled a stream of smoke. "It's been taken care of."

"Well, where is it?" Engineer asked, heaving up his toolbox into his arms. "We'd best be gettin' outta here before this storm gets any worse."

"I will take care of it," Spy replied, flicking his cigarette butt into the water. "You all focus on retreating for now."

Though clearly unhappy with his word choice, the others nodded, and began getting their things together as they prepared to leave. Spy avoided the gazes of Engie, Medic, and Scout as they passed him, and initially paid little attention to the others. But he couldn't help noticing Demo's practically guiding Sniper around like some kind of half-blind seeing-eye dog. He watched them out of the corner of his eye, but looked away when Demo glanced in his direction.

Slowly but surely the spawn room emptied, leaving Spy standing by himself, watching the rain that continued to pour from the ceiling. He wasn't sure how long he stood there, the patter of the rain intermingling with the radio static in his mind, before he began to realize the rain was slowing.

Grunting, he pulled himself away from the wall, retrieved his belongings from his locker, and stepped down the stairs. He did not make a show of looking around, only lighting another cigarette. "The storm is calming, if you want to take your chance to leave now."

He waited a few moments, and, sure enough, heard a shuffling noise beneath the stairs. Turning, he watched as Pyro crawled out from under the stairs and tilted its head at him.

"It was the only place you could hide that would be dry," Spy said, and Pyro lowered its head. "Now would be the time to gather your things."

Pyro glanced at him briefly before trudging up the stairs. It returned shortly with its purse slung over its shoulder, its flare gun and axe on its belt, and its flamethrower under its arm.

Though he grimaced at the weapons, Spy nodded. "Very well. Let us be off."

Once again Pyro glanced at Spy before turning to face the doorway leading out. Rain still fell, albeit in a gentler way that often seemed to happen when they had to fight over the sawmill. In spite of the downgrade from the previous torrential downpour, Pyro hung back.

Spy stepped closer to the door and looked back. "Would you rather wait to see if the weather worsens, or until BLU kills us for technically still being on their territory?"

Sighing, Pyro crept closer to the doorway, but hesitated once again.

Even Spy felt anxiety prickling under his skin as he looked between the rain and the Pyro, his mind still seeing its face split open, yellowed fangs gleaming. He swallowed back his fear. "Your suit protects you, no?"

It nodded.

"Then this is our best chance to leave. Come." With that, he stepped out into the rain. It was not near so terrible as it had been, but it was still cold, and it felt no better on his already-soaked clothing. He glanced back at Pyro, who looked between him and the sky a few times before ducking its head and stepping out.

Immediately its filter hissed with a sharp intake of breath, and it began to shudder.

"You are protected, and your assailant is dead," Spy said firmly, trying to force down his own anxiety. "The sooner we get out of here, the sooner we escape this rainstorm. Move." He hurried down the muddy path toward the open gates, and with a quiet grunt, Pyro followed him. Spy barely resisted the urge to look over his shoulder to make sure Pyro's head wasn't opening again. But nothing happened, and soon they were past the gates and heading down the hilly forest trail. Some of the trees gave them reprieves from the rain, but for the most part, they were walking back to their hidden parking spot without much in the way of cover. The path was dotted with the footprints of the other mercs who had already left, which might have been charming had it not meant they had to constantly watch their feet to avoid tripping in the upturned mud, especially when it came to Heavy's deep footprints.

Finally the red of Spy's sports car caught their eyes, and Spy heaved a sigh of relief as he fished his keys out of his pocket. Before entering, however, he began knocking his foot against a tree trunk. "Get your boots clean," he said, not looking up. "You will not track mud into my car."

When he looked up, he gave a start at seeing that Pyro had not followed him. "Where are you going?" he called out. "Get over here!"

Pyro looked back, surprised, but did not approach Spy until he waved it over. Once it got closer, it looked from Spy's car and back to Spy before tipping its head.

"Yes, you are riding with me. Did you suppose I would make you walk home?"

Pyro lowered its head.

"Please. I would not make you do that... unless you dirtied up my car. Move." With that, he stepped into the driver's seat. After a moment of thought, he hopped back out and popped the trunk open. "Weapons in here, please." After that, he slid back into the car and listened as Pyro reluctantly deposited its weapons into the trunk. It must have stared down at them for a long moment before it slammed the trunk shut and slipped into the passenger's seat.

Nodding, Spy pulled the car out and began the drive back to the base. With a few flips of switches, the windshield wipers started up, and the car slowly began to heat. Normally he would be bemoaning the fact that he'd need to visit the car wash, or have his shoes cleaned, but with Pyro sitting beside him, his mind was on other things.

Pyro remained silent, staring down at its feet. Spy returned the silence, keeping his eyes on the road.

The swishing of the windshield wipers, the patter of rain on the top of the car, the rush of heated air, and the grumbling of the engine filled their ears with their soothing song. But beneath that lay a silent tension that even that chorus could not touch.

It was broken by a quiet, questioning hum.

Spy gave a start, nearly slamming on the breaks, and glanced over to see Pyro facing him. He frowned. "You're wondering why," he said, and noted the nod out of the corner of his eye. "I needed to..." He grimaced. "You needed catharsis. Your attacker was killed before you could take revenge. I know the feeling." His mind wandered briefly to the sniper that had shot him in the leg, but he pulled himself away and glanced back at Pyro again.

It was quiet, contemplative. It drew a finger across its neck, then tapped the back of its head.

Spy thought for a moment, then hummed. "In our defense, you were attacking us during your episode. Though I suppose I had meant for you to attack me when I took on that disguise." He paused, shifting in his seat and feeling a phantom pain flare up in his right wrist. Even so, he tried to push past it, thinking instead about the Pyro, and how it must have felt, finally attacking the woman who had surely been plaguing its nightmares. "It must have helped, non?"

For a while, Pyro sat in silence, staring down at its feet, and Spy almost wondered if it hadn't heard his question. The rain was finally slowing, so it wasn't as though his words were being drowned out by the noise. But then it lifted its head and slowly tilted it to one side, then to the other.

Brow furrowing, Spy frowned. "You don't know?"

Pyro shrugged its shoulders, then hung its head.

For a long moment, Spy sat, the pain in his wrist slowly returning, along with the pain in his back, and his shoulder, and his throat—no part of him was damaged physically anymore after the respawn, but the pain was still there, the pain he'd endured with the thought that it would solve their problems, put an end to this—this—

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?!"

He hadn't realized that he'd slammed on the breaks or that he'd shouted until Pyro jumped back, leaning away from him with a shudder. The sight did nothing to quell the fire that had abruptly sprung up within him, the heat escaping through his mouth, through his words:

"I have spent the past month watching you, seeing your pain, spending my free time trying to help you! I lost sleep, lost our match—I let you put me through hell! And you are telling me all of that amounted to nothing?!" He found himself glaring into the Pyro's lenses, even as it leaned farther into the door behind it. "Was killing that woman not enough? Was killing me? Was killing Jeremy not—"

At once it was gone, his rage turned to cold horror as the smell of Jeremy's blood filled his nostrils, the gaping wound in Jeremy's stomach glaring in his vision, the weight of Jeremy's body growing heavier in his arms.

He faced the road ahead of him, hands in a death grip on the steering wheel. His throat and chest ached, and not from the memory of old wounds.

It doesn't matter, Spy told himself distantly. He's alive.

He could not speak.

There is no reason to feel like this.

His hands shook.

It doesn't matter.

Slowly, a soft noise reached him—Pyro was shifting in its seat. Spy did not look at it, not even when it made a soft hum.

Nor when it reached for him, gently pulling his hand away from the steering wheel and giving it a squeeze.

Something within Spy crumbled.

Frantically he pulled away from Pyro, and pulled his car off the road. After putting the car in park, he threw the door open, jumped out, and stared at nothing, his vision blurring. He felt like his body had gone invisible and had left him behind, somehow, standing frozen and lost. He could hardly think, his mind still in a distant whirl of memories, both recent and not, and a horrible tide of emotions welling up within him, emotions he didn't know the source of, and yet knew exactly the source of, filling his chest until it was painfully tight, ready to burst—

Pyro was suddenly beside him, grabbing his hands, prying them away from his arms—he hadn't even realized he'd been holding them, the muscles aching from the grip—and moving them away, holding his hands tightly in its own. It said nothing, and as the sensation began to ground him, he realized it was staring intently into his eyes. Gradually it released one of his hands, and placed a hand firmly on his back.

The tightness in Spy's chest uncoiled, and tears spilled down his face, soaking into his mask. His legs felt weak, and he crumpled forward, allowing himself to be caught by the Pyro, burying his face into its chest. His shoulders shook as sobs bubbled up through his chest and throat—physical representations of the emotions that had been lying festering within him over the past several days—no, over the past month or more.

Since his son had died in his arms.

It was nonsense, stupid, pointless, but he couldn't stop himself. The fact that Jeremy was alive and well did nothing to calm him, to rid him of this agony, to dry his tears.

Much like the death of Beatrice did not cause Pyro's episodes to end, nor its colors to return.

He didn't know how long the two of them stood there, off the side of the road, halfway to the base, on that strange, rainy day. But eventually the tears within Spy ran dry, and the ugly emotions abated, at least for the time being, leaving him feeling drained, exhausted. Slowly he pulled away from Pyro, and did not look up. "Get back into the car," he croaked.

Pyro stared at him for a few uncomfortable seconds before walking around to the side of the car and stepping in.

Once the door was shut, Spy faced away from the vehicle, and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. With practiced precision, he lifted his mask away from his face, and cleaned it. The mask was still dirty—there was nothing to be done there—but at least the rain had soaked it through anyway, so no one else would identify that it was soaked by anything else.

With his face now as clean as it would get for the time being, Spy pocketed his handkerchief, pulled the mask back down, and stepped back into the car.

The two sat in awkward silence, broken only by the faint patter of rain against the roof and windshield.

Spy drew in a breath. "You saw nothing."

Slowly Pyro turned to face him, and Spy's skin crawled when the Pyro's face partially split down the middle, revealing its yellow fangs, but not opening its mouth any further.

It took Spy a minute to realize it was grinning at him.

—

Scents of coppery blood, acrid smoke, and reeking mildew mingled with the sensations of throbbing aches and sharp pains, driving Spy to drag himself into consciousness. The feelings and smells lingered even when he crawled out of bed, even as the rain continued to pound against the roof of the building. He peered through the curtains, dreading fighting in this mess.

With a sigh, he changed into his usual outfit, wincing at a pain in his leg that should have been long gone.

In contrast with the musty, cold smell of the rain outside was the warm coffee scent that drew him downstairs. As he headed into the mess hall, Spy pondered asking Engie what made him decide to get up so early like this, only to freeze in the doorway.

Sniper sat in the unlit room, nursing a mug of coffee. For once he did not wear his sunglasses, though the darkness of the room and the steam from his drink hid his expression. He did not look up.

Frowning, Spy dipped into the kitchen to pour himself a mug of coffee, though he did not drink it just yet, rather, holding the mug and letting its warmth seep into his gloves. Eventually he stepped into the mess hall again, leaning his back against the wall.

"What unearthly hour did you awake?" Spy finally asked.

It was a moment before Sniper answered. "I haven't slept." His voice was hoarse.

"...I see." Spy stared down at his coffee before taking a seat at the table, one chair over from where Sniper sat. He continued to let the warmth from the mug seep into his hands before taking a sip. When Sniper remained silent, Spy cleared his throat. "I take it the storm brought you... unpleasant memories?"

"Not in the way you're thinking."

Spy shrugged. "Beyond the pain, I imagine being thrust into nonexistence for several hours was probably—"

"I saw my parents."

Freezing, Spy slowly turned toward Sniper. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough to see his companion staring blankly down at his mug. For the briefest of moments, he wondered what Jeremy saw— "I am not getting into a theological discussion at six in the morning."

Sniper looked up, the blunt statement jolting him out of his melancholy.

Before he could question anything, a low tone rang throughout the base. Sniper and Spy both sat up straight, exchanged glances, and scrambled out of their seats, nearly tripping over each other as they made a beeline for the security room.

When they arrived, two buttons on the panel were lit, as was a single screen, which read, "Incoming transmission."

Spy exchanged another glance at Sniper before jabbing the top button, and the screen flickered before displaying a message that read, "Voice only." So, not Miss Pauling. It could be the Administrator, but—

"RED?"

The Texan accent made Sniper jump, and Spy furrow his brow. The voice was deeper than their own Engineer's, and the way they had been addressed made it clear just what they were dealing with.

"Yes, we're here," Spy replied calmly. There was no need for hostility outside of the matches, especially when he had fought alongside this very engineer when dealing with Gray Mann's robots.

"BLU Engie here, speakin' on behalf of my team. We're, uh, dealing with a lot of structural damage to our base on account of the recent storms. We haven't talked to the boss yet, but—dang it, we're calling a temporary ceasefire. Ain't none of us got any sleep last night."

Sniper growled under his breath, looking away. "Are we really gonna trust them?"

With a flick of the mute switch, Spy shook his head. "It's not their spy, at least. He tends to throw in more southern slang when disguised as their engineer. Not to mention, we've seen the same storms. Their base being damaged is not surprising." He flicked the switch again. "Very well, we accept the terms of ceasefire. But this was your idea, and the Administrator's wrath is on you."

A heavy sigh crackled over the speaker. "Don't I know it. Well, we'll be seeing all y'all on the battlefield whenever we get this patched up. And don't worry—we'll take real good care of that winning streak we took from ya."

The screen flickered to a message reading, "Transmission ended."

"'Course he had to get the last word in," Sniper grunted.

"It hardly matters now. They got lucky once. Time will tell if their guns are as swift as their words." Spy shut off the screen and took a swig of his coffee, which had gone from hot to now merely warm. "For now, I suppose we enjoy our day off."

"Never did like those," Sniper muttered. He stepped away from the console and headed out of the room, Spy following. "What do they expect us to do with ourselves anyway?"

As if in response, a peal of thunder rumbled outside.

"Be glad you won't be out fighting in that," Spy remarked.

Rather than heading back to the mess hall, the two of them made their way to a window, watching the sky slowly, slowly lighten behind the angry rainclouds. As they did so, Spy couldn't help but notice the bags under Sniper's eyes. Something struck him, and he grit his teeth, glaring out the window.

It took several moments for him to force himself to speak: "Well, there is one good thing about this weather."

Sniper did not look up. "Yeah?"

"The rainwater loosened the earth, making it easier to... dig up things." Spy paused, briefly, before continuing: “Anyway, I should inform the others of our impromptu day off." With that, he patted Sniper on the shoulder and quickly headed back toward the mess hall. Instinct told him that Sniper had turned to watch him leave, and he did not turn back.

It wasn't long before Engineer was down in the kitchen and whipping up breakfast. He seemed tense until Spy told him about the mercenary's counterpart's message.

"Sure it won't take 'em long to patch that place up," Engineer remarked, and flipped a pancake a few feet into the air before catching it in the pan. His cooking seemed to take on a comfortable rhythm to it, as opposed to the mechanical movements Spy had seen yesterday.

As usual, Soldier's terrible rendition of reveille woke up the rest of the base. Slowly the other mercenaries filed down into the mess hall, including Sniper, whom Spy avoided the gaze of.

"Man," Scout grumbled as he trudged into the doorway, pausing to stretch. "Another day of fightin' in this crap."

"About that," Spy said. "BLU called a temporary ceasefire."

Immediately Scout sprang to attention. "Wait, really?" At Spy's nod, Scout let out a whoop, holding up his arms. "All right! Ya year that, Demo?" He glanced over his shoulder. "We got a day oooaaaAAAAAAAAAGHHH!" His voice leaped up into a shriek as he jumped back from the doorway on one foot, hands held up in a defensive gesture.

Pyro stared at him blankly from the doorway, arms held calmly at its sides.

Sighing, Spy strode past Scout and closer to the doorway. "Calm down. Pyro is not going to be killing anyone today. Isn't that right?"

Pyro nodded.

"Y... yeah," Scout stammered, slowly recovering from his defensive position and wrapping a hand around his stomach. "Yeah, that's real reassuring."

The brief scare was all but forgotten as Engineer called everyone into the kitchen to retrieve their breakfast. As he retrieved his own food, Spy spotted Archimedes on the shoulder of one of the mercs, and did a double-take when he realized it was not Medic's shoulder, but Heavy's. The Heavy was petting the bird gently with one finger, talking to it softly and giving it bits of pancake and sausage... until Medic struck Heavy on the back of the head with an empty plate and shoo'd the bird away.

"Stop it, you're spoiling him," Medic grumbled.

Heavy did not look the least bit ashamed as he piled his own plate with sausages and biscuits. "Da. Is point."

As Spy took some food for himself, he kept an eye on Pyro, who was keeping well behind the others. It did at least come into the kitchen to get its own food, rather than refusing to eat at all, so that was something, at least. Once it had filled its plate, it slunk over to the corner of the mess hall, facing everyone else, and did not immediately make a move to eat its food.

As closely as Spy observed the others, he'd never noticed exactly how Pyro ate. It was something he'd tried to catch in the past, but had failed at every time, even when watching while disguised. After the events of yesterday, he now had a pretty good guess as to how Pyro consumed its food.

He was mildly surprised at how little it disturbed him.

But he also felt a spark of irritation when Medic approached Pyro, who shrank back, a hand to its throat. Spy nearly stood up, but stopped himself when Medic retrieved a pink lollypop from his coat pocket and held it up to Pyro, who relaxed, reaching out to take the candy. Medic pulled it away and said something to Pyro, who looked away, until Medic retrieved three more pieces of candy from his coat pocket. It looked up at the Medic before tilting its head to one side, then the other. This was apparently enough to satisfy the Medic, who pocketed the candy again and stepped away, smiling.

"Attempting to bribe it with more candy, I see," Spy remarked as Medic walked past him.

"If it works, I have no complaints," Medic replied with a shrug. "So long as I can fill out more of its medical forms!"

So long as you're not harassing it, Spy thought, then shook his head. He finished the rest of his meal in silence, idly listening to the talk around him. Sniper and Demo were engaged in a quiet conversation on one end of the table, Heavy was listening in amusement to another rant from Medic about spoiling his birds, while Engineer, Soldier, and Scout discussed a game that would be on later, the latter two with a great deal of animation. His gaze lingered on the last group as he finished his meal.

After depositing his plate in the kitchen, Spy stepped out into the mess hall again, where everyone was still engaged in their own conversations. Pyro had stepped out during the short time he'd been gone, leaving an empty plate with no utensils on the table. Frowning, Spy headed toward the door, only to pause by the end of the table. The sports talk seemed to have devolved from friendly banter about teams to something a bit more... heated.

"I'm tellin' you, you cow-herdin' Canadian, your 'Tex-Mex' food is a contamination of real American dishes!"

"Yeah, well, got some news for you about your so-called 'all-American' dishes, Soldier. You ever heard of a melting pot?"

"Sounds like a French invention! True Americans only deep-fry their food!"

Spy ignored Soldier and Engineer, instead turning his attention to Scout, who was listening to the argument with his brow furrowed and chin resting on the heel of his hand, eyes occasionally rolling. He was all too eager to escape the argument when Spy cleared his throat.

"Yeah, what's up?" Scout asked, swinging around to sit on the side of his chair.

Spy stood beside Scout, his back to the table, and casually lit a cigarette. "So... how are you feeling after yesterday?"

Initially Scout blinked in surprise, then looked away. "Ugh, tryin' to forget that crap. My guts hurt if I think about it too long."

"I see." Spy breathed a smoke ring toward the ceiling, watching it ascend. "I wouldn't worry too much. The phantom pain will ease on its own."

"Uh, yeah, probably." Scout shifted in his seat. Behind him, his companions sounded close to literally butting heads, but he made no move to look back at them, nor forward at Spy.

After an awkward silence, Spy continued: "Your addition to the plan was a good one."

Scout nodded, only to sit upright. "Wait—yeah? I mean, yeah! Of course it was!" Grinning, he leaned back. "Y'know, you and Engie ain't the only thinkers around here. I can do a little strategizin' when I feel like it."

"Yes, and I'm sure you would've been able to follow through with it." It was something he might've said sarcastically at a previous time, but there was no sarcasm in his words.

Scout clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "Yeah," he muttered, but paused as Spy's tone registered. "I—wait, you think so?"

"Of course. I'm sure had it not been for... extenuating circumstances, you would have pulled it off." Smiling, Spy began to stride out of the room. "For once."

"Yeah! I totally could've—hey!"

Still smiling, Spy said nothing as he slipped out into the hallway, intent on tracking down the Pyro. He made it halfway down the hall when the rapid squeak of sneakers against hardwood made him pause. His instinct, his naturally mysterious nature urged him to not look back, but something else deeper within him stirred, and he turned.

Scout came to an awkward stop, scratching the back of his head. "Hey, um..." He straightened his baseball cap.

Spy remained quiet, waiting.

Scout's gaze was to the ground, his feet shifting his body left and right. "Just... wanted to say, uh. Thanks for the help... yesterday. With Pyro." Slowly, he raised his head, and Jeremy looked Spy in the eyes. "I... owe you one."

For a short eternity, Spy stared at his son, something stirring in his chest.

Said eternity was broken when Scout suddenly stepped forward, jabbing a finger at him. "Do not make me regret saying that!"

Spy laughed, shaking his head and looking away. But he quieted himself, looking down at the floor. "...If that phantom pain of yours does not ease on its own," he began, and Scout took a step back, lowering his arm, "it... may help to say a few words to someone about it."

"I... uh." Scout rubbed his arm. "Okay, thanks."

Clattering noises and shouts rang from the mess hall behind them.

"You may want to be sure Soldier did not bring his rocket launcher to breakfast."

"Wait—aw, crap." With that, Scout spun around, charging back into the mess hall. "Hey, Soldier—Soldier! Put that thing down, man!"

Once Scout was gone, Spy let out a long sigh, lightly rubbing a knuckle beneath his eye—he'd gotten some of his cigarette smoke into it. He resumed heading down the hall, only to pause again when he spotted a pair of lenses staring at him.

Pyro tilted its head, and walked away.

—

It was toward the afternoon that, upon noticing the lack of rain pounding against the roof, Spy emerged from his smoking room. Unfortunately, a trip to one of the windows informed him that the rain had not stopped—only lessened to a light patter. The sky had brightened somewhat, at least, but no one seemed in any hurry to leave with the ground as muddy as it was.

When Spy headed for the kitchen to make a quick meal, he took note of Pyro sitting at the empty mess hall table, patched-up crayon box at its side and blank dot-matrix paper before it. It gave Spy a quiet hum of acknowledgment, to which Spy gave a silent nod in return.

"I'm preparing a meal, if you would like something," he offered, but Pyro only shook its head, gesturing to an empty plate at its side. Shrugging, Spy took the plate into the kitchen.

When Spy stepped out later with a plate of food, he prepared to sit at the table, only to pause. He stared into the hallway, which was a great deal lighter than before. Curious, he set his plate aside and began heading for the window at the end of the hall.

Sunlight streamed into the hallway, but rain still fell. Frowning, Spy stepped closer to the window, peering outside. He couldn't recall the last time he'd seen a sunshower—

Something caught his eye, and he immediately spun around, bolting back into the mess hall. "Pyro!" he called, stopping in the doorway. Pyro looked up from its coloring, tilting its head. "Get out here, quickly."

Sensing the urgency in Spy's tone, Pyro pushed away from the table and followed him out to the window. When Spy stopped, it stood by his side, staring, and made a quiet noise of surprise.

A smile crept across Spy's features. "You see it, then?"

At that, Pyro slumped slightly, tilting its head one way, then the other. But it leaned forward again, placing its hands against the window and staring intently.

Outside, as mild rain pattered down through the relentless sunshine, a rainbow stretched out just beyond the fort, disappearing somewhere deep into the sky.

Spy stood beside the Pyro, staring at the rainbow with it and wondering just how much it could see. It wasn't perfect vision, but evidently, it was enough to keep its attention. After a moment, he patted it on the shoulder before turning back toward the mess hall. As he did so, his smile faded.

It wasn't what he'd hoped for, although part of him had to wonder how he could've been naive enough to hope for it at all. Nothing was going to make the colors magically return, but... apparently something was happening.

When Spy entered the mess hall, he noticed Pyro's papers still sitting on the table, and they were no longer blank. Curious, he took a step closer, only to give a start.

It was a drawing of himself and Pyro, still in shades of gray... and patches of red.

#tf2 spy #tf2 pyro #tf2 scout #tf2 sniper #team fortress 2 #my writing #my art #fanfic #flickering fanfic #AND HERE IT IS. THE FINAL CHAPTER.#valve beat me to the punch!! oh well #I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED THIS!!!

31 notes · View notes