#outlast trials headcanons

[love-minor-poltergeist]

A/N: I've only known this man for roughly a week and I want to pour milk on him and violently throw him against the wall (lovingly). While I'm not known to write for horror media, let alone for a franchise as brutal as Outlast, but I've been quite captivated by the Outlast Trials since the July 16th update. Because of course I would fixate on the hyperviolent mafioso with extreme mommy issues. _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):_

General Franco Barbi Headcanons

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Loathe as he is to admit—  that is if he’s willing to acknowledge it— Franco and his father are far more alike than one would think. Both men share the same hair-trigger temper, a fondness for collecting artisan firearms, tastes in women… And who could forget that sailor’s mouth? 

Hell, prior to his exile, it became something of a running joke between the triggermen of the Barbi family. The minute they hear Franco and Don Barbi’s shared “FUCK”/“CAZZO”, they share a knowing look amongst themselves. Like father, like son.

Of course, they also take it as a warning to keep their heads down and quietly pray that lupara isn’t pointed their way.

His birth mother was killed long before he could even remember her. No one dared utter it aloud, but he knew why. He would’ve been downright stupid to think it was because of anything other than how he came out. Ugly. Malformed. Hell, his father certainly made it clear how he felt about his defective son whenever he got mad; and Franco’s got the scars to show it.

However, during one of Don Barbi’s infamous bouts of rage– fueled by alcohol and his ever-growing frustration over Franco’s reckless spree killings– he had let it slip that Franco resembled his late wife far more than he was comfortable with. 

Dark eyes– cold and vast like the deepest parts of the sea– regarded the crumpled form beneath him. Franco couldn’t have been more than seventeen or eighteen then. He had just gotten back from a hit. Some rat bastard from another crime family; a lowly racketeer who thought he was hot shit. At least he did until he was filled with hot lead from lupara. Only thing was— his father just wanted the intended man dead. It was a simple request. And what did his ugly shithead fuck of a son do? Franco ends up massacring the whole bar he had tracked the man down to. Staff, patrons, and a band of musicians that were unluckily set to perform that night— a whopping thirteen other people on top of the measly single target the Don wanted. And the real fucking kicker? That very bar– dinky as it was– was under Barbi family protection. And they had paid handsomely for their services. 

All hell broke loose once Franco came home. The minute he stepped foot in his father’s office, the world became a blur of violent shouting and spat expletives. The walls and furniture shook with each slam as the Don punched and kicked at the younger man. Franco had tried to fight back, getting in a few nasty hits himself, but it was clear his father easily overpowered him. In a matter of minutes, his vision and lungs grew wet with blood. Everything hurt, and all young Franco could do was fight for air.

“You had one job, boy. One. Yet I find that we lost a paying customer— one that we’re supposed to protect. Making me look like the asshole for not keeping my word.” 

The older man crouched down, yanking Franco by the little patches of hair he had. The Don was baring his teeth now, eyes boring holes into his son. 

“You’re even lucky I let you live, you miserable waste of spunk,” he pulled harder on Franco’s hair, ignoring the latter’s grunt of pain. “I could have killed you in your crib. I should have.” 

He accentuated each word with a rough yank, and a particularly pathetic pained moan from Franco only made the Don slam his head into the floor. Hot, sticky crimson coated his broad fingers, and he regarded the now weeping visage of his son with disdain; as if he had found a piece of gum stuck to his shoe. A pregnant silence fell between the two. Nothing but the faint sounds of breathing filled the air. 

Then the Don spoke once more.

“Even now, you look just like your mother. Useless, bloodied, and soft.”

Don Barbi never did talk about his first wife again after that incident. Not that Franco ever cared. He never knew her. Though, he did faintly hear from a few of his father’s older associates that he shared his mother’s eyes, or that he had the same hair as her. One man even said that had Franco been born normal, he would’ve been the spitting image of her. 

Said man was later found in the alley between a bar and sundry store. Discarded within a dumpster and body absolutely mangled. 

Once, when he was around maybe ten years old or so, his father had tried to take him to the dentist in order to get braces. Something to fix up those “broken piano keys” he had, as his father put it. Franco didn’t even last a half hour before a capo had to come pick him up because the boy went and bit the finger clean off of the poor dental assistant that tried to get him ready. 

He has some breathing problems, going off what could be heard within the trials. If he’s not yapping off, he could be heard heavily panting and straining to catch his breath. It’s nowhere near bad enough to be considered asthmatic, but Franco’s definitely not winning any marathons, that’s for sure. Not that his little baby legs would let him-

Absolutely refuses to drink anything that isn’t sweet enough to send a bear into a diabetic coma. If he doesn’t have his thermos of wolf’s milk on him, he’s dumping a whole bowl’s worth of sugar into whatever’s given to him. He doesn’t care if it's already been sweetened. He needs it sweeter.

Murkoff’s budgeting department is at their wit’s end and it is absolutely Franco’s fault. Does he care? Of course not. He deserves nice things and it’s a travesty that someone of his status is forced to live in squalor. About a week after he’s been taken to Sinyala, a special budget ends up being put aside for him. He goes over said budget every time. No, he won’t stop, either. He is a luxury that few could afford.

The first thing he demanded for his living space was the fanciest phonogram Murkoff could get and some records. He didn’t particularly like juke boxes– he thought them too flashy and that they usually played the same boring tunes. Usually if you walk by his containment unit, you'd hear the rich, dulcet tones of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, and the occasional Engelbert Humperdinck.

Don’t ever take him to the beach for too long. He usually forgets to put on sunscreen and ends up sunburnt at the end of the day. It’s one of the few things he doesn’t miss about Miami/Cuba. 

Small dogs hate him. His stepmom Angelina owned a few pomeranians. He and the little bastards never got along. It wasn’t all too uncommon to walk in on him telling one of them to fuck off whenever they bit at the pant leg of his suit. He’s held a vendetta against all tiny dogs ever since. 

While he may not look like it, he’s quite fond of the ocean. He enjoyed the boat rides he took to and from Cuba, and would occasionally fish if time was passing by a bit slow. Though he didn’t do it very often thanks to bastardly seagulls and pelicans trying to bully him for whatever he caught. 

Would probably own an aquarium of tropical fish if Murkoff trusted any of their test subjects with a living thing under their care. When he was younger, Franco’s father had an associate who owned a giant tank full of brightly-colored tetras, cherry barbs, and guppies. And while his dad sat through boring talks, Franco would usually watch the little things dart around in the water.

Speaking of, he’s particularly fond of ranchu goldfish. Mostly because, in his words, “they’re ugly little fuckers”.  Franco means this lovingly, of course. 

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[lumierexfics]

Hii! if you write for Franco Barbi then could I request fluff headcanons with Franco and a gn reader who's a doctor in the facility? Thank you sm :)

Chat Log Name : Silly rabbit!

Chat log description : Fluff headcanons with “il bambino” Franco Barbi.

online users : “il bambino” Franco Barbi , murkoff worker reader

‼️CW : OOC Franco Barbi.‼️

You were working for Murkoff for a couple of years due to the fact that they had the specific treatment that you needed but wasn’t affordable to the normal person but it was free under the care of Murkoff corporation if you kept quiet about the things that they were doing since Murkoff corporation is a charitable corporation that helps people.

You were the most experienced doctor on duty since the other senior doctor was out. You had to deal with the new prime asset : il bambino with his lupara.

Franco does not enjoy the room that he currently is because it would be a downgrade to the normal “luxuries” from the outside.

It would take an amount of trust in the restraints for you to even handle lupara since you would need to replace the shell filled with teeth with bullets that aren’t harmful.

Franco will constantly thrash and throw a ‘tantrum’ in the restraints whenever you try to clean lupara and try to place it out of his reach

You noticed he wouldn’t be as ‘defiant’ when he was injured by the broken bottles or the bricks that caused discoloration on his head or face, a perfect time to clean up his wounds before he had to endure the trial again as the prime asset.

Franco would expect the occasional praises from you whenever you bandaged him up from the trial and because he wanted to make you proud.

Your weekends wouldn’t be in the safe comforts of your home, rather it would be back at the Sinyala facility due to Franco having an outburst since he seemingly preferred you over the other doctors who seemed to have treated him without ‘care’.

[letternotekisses]

Hi there! I'm hopping on board with your requests, and am very politely asking if you would be willing to write some NSFW headcanons for Coyle? Please and thank you! ♡♡♡

hii ofc i can! <3 nsfw under da cut

"I'll have you on your knees..."

Coyle is very heavy on having firm control over you - as evidenced by the way he'll have you in any way he wants. A favourite of his though, is having you between his knees - baton pressed against your cheek and cock lodged deep down your throat. Sometimes he'll have his baton crackle to life and give himself a shock - combining the sensations and making you choke in surprise around his throbbing shaft.

He likes a bit of fire. Likes to watch you squirm while he fucks you - bent over one of the desks in the police station - paperwork strewn messily across the floor. He'll curl an elbow around your neck, grasping your chin and keeping you pinned in a headlock as he ruts his heavy cock into your sweet little hole, having you bite into the leather of his sleeve to ground yourself.

Likes it when you behave, but it makes his cock stiffen when you don't. Leland loves to think he's teaching you a very valuable lesson by catching you and fucking you into the tough marble floor - the slap of his pelvis against your ass loud enough to attract the attention of stray Ex-Pop nearby. But he makes sure they know just who's prisoner you are, huffing and growling into the crook of your neck as he grinds his cock in that particular motion that makes you sing like a caged canary.

After a long day, Coyle likes a long drag of a cigarette, a drink and a sweet little pussy for him to bury his face into. His beard is scratchy against your inner thighs - tickling the plush flesh as he drags his heavy tongue through your folds, not hesitating to plunge back into your sweet little hole. He'll hold your thighs open and eat you up until he's had his fix, giving a pleased and appreciative grunt every time you come undone in his mouth.

Gives you a little spark from the baton once in a while - not enough to fry you - but certainly enough to get you to squeal. He's not nice about it either, rather more pleased with himself as he grips his belt, his hand coming down to grope his hardening cock through his trousers. Sometimes he'll swoop in right after for a rough kiss, his beard scraping your cheeks as his hand comes to cup your jaw.

Coyle will handcuff those pretty wrists behind your back and have you ride him until the cows home home - or, at least until you're whining and drooling at him to fuck you proper, which he's all too happy to deliver on. Pinning you down, his chest pressed against your back - his gear digging into you as he stretches your pretty little hole open. Growling about how he'd rehabilitate you - or better yet, keep you caged up - just for him, and him only.

"Oh, sweetness." >>>

[toxictigertonic]

Glad to see that my mad ramblings are entertaining this corner of the outlast community, I will continue to talk until I've juiced the smooth ball of gum I call a brain of all its flavor. Pspsps Franco fans hiiii tell me what I should draw him doing/wearing pleaaaase.

Today's headcanons are: How are the prime assets when it comes to board/card games?

COYLE

- Do not play games with this man unless you want to have the least fun of your life.

- He has the rule book out on the table as you're playing so he can read them off at any point.

- In fact I know that fucker memorizes game rules and starts fighting people if they don't play by them.

- "WE GOT LAWS AROUND HERE! WE GOT FUCKING LAWS!" "Leland calm down we're playing uno..."

- If he catches someone cheating he's hopping the table, there's a crime in progress and he's about to be SUCH a good cop.

- Play monopoly with him to experience The Thrill of being tased over fake money.

- If you use a +4 on this man in Uno he will scream until you show him your hand to make SURE you're not lying about not having any other cards to use. He'll also pout about you using it in general.

- The sorest loser ever, genuinely. Somehow worse than Franco. And Franco is a baby man with a gun.

- It should be a rule that he's not allowed to play cards with Franco but Phyllis is stubborn and wants them to get along. It never ends well.

- Gets far too giddy playing Mousetrap.

MOTHER GOOSEBERRY

- Forces Leland and Franco into game nights. They can't say no or they'll upset her, thereby upsetting Futterman, thereby risking their lives to The Goose.

- Has a massive collection of card games and board games, take your pick.

- And she knows how to play all of them, mind you. She has the rules memorized as well but doesn't have an electric stick up her ass like somebody we know.

- LOVES Candyland and Parcheesi. The brighter and more colorful the board the more she finds it adorable.

- Futterman eats pieces when Phyllis is losing. Don't turn around he's a hungry little guy.

- He got caught eating pieces once and had to wear the Bag of Shame for multiple game nights afterwards.

- Futterman also is allowed to play the games, somehow always wins in the end. Leland is suspicious of him cheating (but isn't willing to face drill wrath to investigate)

- Have I mentioned that Futterman will call both Franco and Leland awful names when he's losing? Because he does. Has made both of them cry before. Game night had to end early and Phyllis felt very bad.

- Not a sore loser per se, but will ask to play again until she wins. Futterman will stare whoever down until they agree to another round.

- If you don't help her put away the board or cards she's holding a grudge. And if pieces are missing you BETTER help find them, even if it means shaking them out of Futterman's mouth.

FRANCO

- Play silly games, win silly prizes. I'm saying if you try to beat him at cards (and you're not a fellow prime asset or someone whose lap he wants access to) you're getting shot in the foot.

- He's required to turn in Lupara at the beginning of game nights now after he tried to take Coyle's shin off. He only gives Lupara up bc Phyllis asks so nicely (and because he's a simp lol).

- Really good at cards, but still cheats. Mainly to fuck with Coyle. He'll take any opportunity to piss that man off.

- Sometimes wants to play solitaire like an adult, other times he's playing candyland with Phyllis having the time of his life.

- If it's a game with unique pieces you BETTER let him pick his piece first or he's throwing a tantrum.

- If Leland's winning he'll kick him under the table then say he was imagining things. Leland is THIS 👌 close to starting a fight.

- He lets Phyllis win to get on her good side. Doesn't matter the game, he'll let her win. Gets pissy when she wins naturally though.

- He always tries to gamble when they play anything. Coyle does not approve of gambling. Have I mentioned these two want each other dead?

- Phyllis complimented him on being really good at shuffling a deck of cards and he rode that high for weeks.

- Very good at convincing the others that it's his turn if they've lost track of who goes next. Doesn't matter if he just went, he will get to go again.

- Likes to play card matching games by himself when he doesn't wanna think about the game too hard. Phyllis sometimes sits with him and plays too. Futterman calls them both stupid if they fuck up.

I love how much Franco and Leland hate each other I want them to fist fight ❤️. Lock them in a room together and whoever crawls out at the end wins. No weapons just two bald bastards.

[rymaninlimbo]

Can you imagine meeting him in a dark, lowly bar?

He sidles up to you, a sideways grin on his face as he spoke, “Care to let me buy you a round, sweetness?”

You scoff at his boldness, but there’s something about a man in uniform that is… alluring~

[robinotaco]

"B-B-But!! In game, she canonly flirts with the guys-" BLAHBLAH BLAH IDCCCC

[bonefries]

IIIIII want to hear the nsfw franco headcanons. pretty please w a big cherry on top and sprinkles and whip cream PLEASE

Here are my headcanons, under the cut. I dont have like a ton but here are my thoughts! : v : )/

( tw flashing image ) just in case

-I personally think his foreplay game is strong, probably the strongest thing he has. The reason I think this is because he knows he is about to ask whoever he is doing to do some weird shit with him. So like, he over performs and does really incredible warming up. It's a pride thing, or sometimes even just fueled out of pure spite. God forbid the person laugh too..

-i remember a document mentioning the girls at the gator hook lodge not wanting to engage despite the money franco was dishing out, because of something to do with his hygiene. This was too vague for me to understand what it was specifically referring to. I wanna think it wasn't anything to actually do with his genitals or like STDs of sorts. I think outside of trial carnage, he can clean up extremely nicely when he wants to. he lived a luxury lifestyle so i think when he wants to "wow" he absolutely will, especially if that means its going to get him laid that night. - his dick is out in the comic and it does look maybe a little under average, but genuinely im not sure. i think he's a clean average maybe erect who knows very basic list of things i think about him: -face sitting -oral is his favorite activity, this is the #1 -probably a dry humper/thigh rider -clothing on (getting his expensive suits messy because he's so desperately horny it's sad and pathetic, ykno, to aid the humiliation kink) -tit sucker ,tit fucker -probably claims he's a great masseuse -maybe a fancy lil drink before and smoking a cig after sex -gun play, probably (whatever this entails make your own lines but like.....LUPARA IS THERE SO!! THATS HIS BIG FANCY CAR. YKNOW.) -he is a biter, and he will leave marks (and his teeth marks will be so specific it'll be kind of cute in a way) -the little brat needs to be taught how to do proper after care because based off of how he talks about himself (and sex workers for that matter) i know he has no fucking aftercare etiquette at all so someone needs to beat that into him

thats all i got for now off the top of my head!!

[lilbluebastard]

I’ve already told Leland headcanons! Can I hear yours 👉👈

[goldenponcho]

Just wanted to share a very important NSFW headcanon I have about Franco:

It’s obvious he’s, first and foremost, a breast man. Duh… But I strongly feel that he gets off to pretty much ANY part of a woman’s body. This would be mostly due to the fact that he clearly fetishizes women’s bodies in general.

Breasts- ANY sexual act he does is most likely going to involve them if at all possible. He will contort himself into uncomfortable positions if he has to to get to them tiddees!

Belly - He is into this NEARLY as much as he is breasts. Even if he’s not actively trying to cut someone open to crawl inside (and he’s not trying to breastfeed) he wants to lay his head on their tummy and fall asleep. Probably likes some pudge, but isn’t extremely picky. He absolutely LOVES the little sounds inside. Also think it would be cute if when their stomach growls, he excitedly offers to get them some food or take them to a fancy restaurant.

Feet - This man also, low-key, has a foot fetish. Especially clad in heels or some THICK, heavy shit kickers. PLEASE, QUEEN , STEP ON HIM! I think he would also be really enthused to give foot massages.

Ass - He’ll absolutely grab ass any chance he gets. Will definitely stick a finger up in there if you don’t watch him.

Legs - It seems from a couple fics I’ve read, some agree, he likes to sit at a person’s feet and lie his head in their lap for them to pet his head while he strokes a calf or thigh. He could also fall asleep here.

Back - If a partner is already curled up in bed, he likes to nuzzle into their back and hug them in a spooning position. He will not let go once here.

Face - He’s not picky about what you look like. He finds many have potential to be attractive to him. After all, he believes himself to be absolutely HIDEOUS, so he probably feels he can’t be picky anyway. What he loves is to stare adoringly into their eyes while he gets cuddles.

I’m sure there are more, but I’ll leave it at that.

Bonus! This study by youcancallmenoob is 100% what Franco looks like naked. Also, he’s just slightly under average size when erect.

[reagent-leon]

He's fucking what?

Hello??? Doctor?

@drwernicke

[corpusdilecti]

HEADCANONNN 🔽

The pushers idea for a first date would be by taking you to a cheese cake factory

[love-minor-poltergeist]

A/N: I saw the positive reception that my Barbi hcs and I wanted to say, from the bottom of my heart, thank you kindly!! I always find myself feeling apprehensive on deviating from the fandoms I usually write for, so the fact that you all seemed to liked my Barbi content means a lot! (〃＾▽＾〃)

In the spirit of things, I decided to try my hand at baking a batch of hcs for our lovely, awful Police Sergeant Coyle! I will admit that his character was a little bit more difficult to write for since there's a lot uncomfortable themes and ideals related to his character. However! I welcome the challenge and hope that these turned out okay. Lemme know what y'all think!!

!Content Warning!: There's a passing mention of CSA/Childhood Sexual Abuse since the comics implied that it happened, and while it's only mentioned very briefly, it's better to play it safe

General Leland Coyle Headcanons:

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Ever since his father served in the military briefly in WWII, which subsequently left the older man an invalid– having lost a foot and permanently unable to walk normally– Leland was left to carry out most of the physical labor around him and his family’s cattle farm. Pa would still insist on bossin’ him around, though, and Leland usually had to be the one to help him walk the fields while dealing with the cattle. Of course, once he joined the local police force, most of those duties fell upon his ma. 

Granted, in his ever charming views, he always thought Ma did a crap job of the physical work, so he’d usually take over anyway. All the while he and Ma argued back and forth on the fields.

An average day, if he wasn’t off dealing with police duties, he’d watch the cattle and make sure they’ve eaten and prod any escapees back into the fields. He was none too gentle, either, and he’s earned his fair share of bruises and narrowly avoided a few nasty kicks. Leland’s even got a particularly nasty scar on his lower abdomen from getting gored by a rowdy heifer. It luckily wasn’t deep enough to get him sent to the hospital, but boy did his parents ridicule him for being dumb enough to let it happen in the first place. 

Cannot cook for the life of him. Pa drilled it into his head that cooking was a woman's job, so he never really bothered to learn. All of the housework was handled by his wives, and god forbid if they wanted a break from it… During the brief stints between each marriage, Leland’s survived off diner food, cigarettes, coffee, and the occasional frozen tv dinner. 

On the other hand, however, he’s completely fine with a man cooking if it’s to handle a grill. Hell, Pa was the one to teach him how to prepare meat after they’ve sent their cattle off to the slaughterhouse, and goddamn can he cook a mean steak. Now that he thinks about it, Leland sometimes wished he paid more attention on how to make fried chicken when his Ma tried to show him… 

The Coyle family were devout Christians and attended Sunday mass each week. Of course, Leland doesn’t practice the religion much as he grew older, but much of the values taught to him remained; most of them perverted to fit his ideals. 

Thanks to his chronic smoking habit, Leland’s appetite is close to nonexistent. He does it so much that the other officers of the Blackwell Police Department often joked about how Sergeant Coyle’s office may as well have been an oven with how much smoke emanated from his office. However, given how he’s the one to handle most of the paperwork until the asscrack of dawn, and with only a cigarette and numerous cups of coffee littering his desk to keep him going, no one really complained. 

Usually shaves his head during the summer time. Sure, he’s a vain man, but it’s become a habit after his time in the military. Not to mention that it usually helped him keep cool during the days where he toiled in the fields with the sun beating down on he and Ma. The habit followed him into the Sinyala facility, where staff usually had to shear him down since, though he’s a Prime Asset and thus has special privileges, he’s still not to be trusted with anything sharp. 

Has extensive firearm training. Pa first showed him how to handle a rifle whenever the farm had to deal with coyotes and stray dogs that harassed the livestock. On the offtime there wasn’t anything to shoot, young Leland was usually spotted by the fence posts in the outer perimeter of the farm, practicing his aim with a few cans and empty bottles. Which eventually graduated to shooting at any unlucky birds or cats that wandered too close to the property. He was also put in charge of putting down any sickly cattle, too, after Pa was left crippled.

His aim only got better thanks to his time in Okinawa. He’s got more experience in rifles and pistols, but he has a natural knack for machinery, and he’s a quick learner. Not to mention that he follows gun safety to a fuckin’ T…. Which only made him even more offended when he learned that some deformed, baby-talkin’ runt got a gun before he did in Sinyala. 

Usually has a sore back after trials. Sure, he can handle lugging around that pontiac car battery on his back for hours if he needed to, but goddamn is that thing heavy. First thing he does after a trial is stretch until he hears his back pop. 

Suffers from really nasty night terrors. Going back to his comic and how it briefly touched on how Leland’s exhibited signs of CSA, it’s highly possible that much of the abuse occurred behind closed doors and at night, where everyone else was asleep. He’s avoided sleep like the plague since then. Both as a means of trying to protect himself and not have to deal with constantly reliving the incident. He’s never talked to anyone about it, and refuses to do so. 

He’s also coped with it via hypersexualising himself and inflicting pain on others. It gives him a sense of control and a rush of power that was stripped away from him. Silently vowed to never let himself be that vulnerable again.

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[sad-zombie-boy]

My personal height headcanons!

[letternotekisses]

HAII May I request Franco Barbi NSFW headcanons/drabble? THANK YOU SM!! <3

franco barbi nation this one is for u <3 nsfw below da cut

"You'll keep your fuckin' mouth shut about this."

You barely register his threats when he's crowding you against the cold wall, impatiently kicking over a barrel that was somewhat in his way. You take his growls with a grain of salt - seeing as this wasn't exactly the first time he'd bent you over mid trial. Franco is always quick to tear that stupid gear off your chest to get to your plush tits underneath, burying his face in them like he'd die without.

He's all talk. Don't be afraid to get a little bit stern with him - curl your fingers in his disarrayed hair and guide his movements while he feverishly eats you out. Franco wants you to make a mess on him because he's so desperate to please, he doesn't care if you get his expensive suits dirty - he can buy several more. It's actually almost pathetic how desperate he is for it.

Franco isn't above humping your leg to get his fix - and I imagine it probably just ties into his humiliation kink. Call him a good boy and he'll cum in his pants almost instantaneously. Same goes for whenever you let him fuck the supple flesh of your tits - anything to do with it has him kicking his feet and flushing a deep, bashful red.

Doesn't like sharing his things, and you fell under that category the moment you allowed him to sink his cock into your tight little cunt. It'll have him distracted in trials - chewing out anyone who dare touch you in a way that seems opposed to violence. Would one hundred percent throw a fit and shoot someone in the foot with his lupara.

"Come here, sweetness." >>>

[southernspooks]

My friends wanted me to share some of my little silly head cannons. Maybe I’ll eventually share some of my nsfw ones 👀 but for now silly!

Outlast Trials HCs:

Dancing

Coyle:

You're shocked to learn how good of a swing Coyle has. You think it’s to keep the ladies impressed. Why else? He'll have you whirling around in no time, so you better be able to keep up. With ease, he wills you around his body, launch you into the air, catching you, and dipping you. By the end, you're dizzier than a cow in a tornado. But don't let your guard down. Coyle will seize any opportunity to get a few gropes.

Gooseberry:

She would love to dance with you! You both laughing and smiling as you spin around. However, you're driving Dr. Futterman nuts ,goddamnit! Cut it out! You would gladly slow everything down and give her a tight hug. Phyllis hums a gentle melody while you both sway in unison. She doesn't care if you tread on her feet a few times, but her father does! He chastises you two. "What is wrong with you?! Ya can’t just move side to side!? "Well, Phyllis, maybe they wouldn't step on you if your hooves weren't so big!" The next time, you consider packing duct tape.

Franco:

Although Franco isn't much of a dancer, he will seize the chance to put his hands all over you. With the assertion that he can only slow dance, he quickly latches himself to you. Face buried in your chest, hands squeezing your behind. You wobble uncomfortably from side to side, almost unable to stay upright. He is relying too much on you to keep you both upright. He actually feels as though he's getting heavier. Wait. Did he just fall asleep??

Dr.Easterman:

He’ll send you a nice outfit to put on before meeting him in his office. He would never dance with you in your typical attire. Once you’re both alone he turns on his record player. A waltz and draws you close. You are trampling all over his elegant dance moves. You apologise profusely, but he tells you it's alright. He will lead you in the right direction. He is, after all, your teacher. He’s going to teach you so many new things.

[rymaninlimbo]

Leland Coyle Headcanons because I’d like to share my thoughts on this man and what I think he’s like behind the scenes~

•••~•••~•••

•Leisure clothing/behavior•

- He wears Murkoff brand sweatpants, and a plain white shirt sleeve shirt, he also wears slippers when he’s going around in the sleep room. He prefers wearing plain clothing usually, clean and simple works for him.

- He generally keeps to himself in his room, writing in his journal or drawing randsome landscape scenes. (Mostly open pastures from his youth, maybe some cattle and storm clouds)

- In the morning, he wakes up at 0500 on the dot to begin his routine of calisthenics before showering and eating breakfast.

- Usually he regards the other Ex-Pops with mutual respect, if they keep to themselves so will he, in trial environments it’s similar behavior but he’s willing to be rough if they’re not doing their job.

•Comfort Item(s)•

- His sunglasses are very important to him, not only are they a momento from before he joined the Marines, he’s always hated eye contact.

- Always viewed it as windows of the soul and too personal, he only ever takes them off when he’s alone or with someone he trusts enough to show off his striking baby blues.

- (Tw abūse) In the past when he was a kid, after each time his mother dunked him under the bathwater and held him there, she would force him to look at her eyes as she screamed in his face. “Cleanliness is next to godliness, Leland. Don’t you get that?”

- Depending on the situation, looking into his eyes while he wears his aviators can pull different reactions from him. If it’s out of hatred and fear, he’ll have a near visceral reaction to it. Wanting nothing more than to jam his thumbs into their eyes to get them to stop looking at him. But, if you look into his eyes with respect, firm but neutral, he’ll be curious to see how far that goes. What can break you?

•Hygiene•

- Generally smells like cigarette smoke, burnt leather and spicy aftershave

- Depending on what time the trial is, you’d most likely smell coffee or maybe his recent meal on his breath, subtle but noticeable if you’re paying attention to it.

- He showers daily so usually you can smell a hint of his shampoo and body wash if you catch him before he smokes his first cigarette of the day.

- Sometimes, usually every Sunday, you’ll find that his boots look shinier and smell of the leather conditioner and oil to make them pretty, he takes pride in having his boots look good while he executes you. ;)

That’s all for now~

I’ll most likely add more laterrrr