Breadhead x medic!human!You
An another request! Don't be afraid to send one! I have troubles coming up with ideas themselves, but love to develop them
— what skills is better to have in a world where everyone but you is immortal? the medical ones.
— you don't know why temperance decided to keep you. you are clever enough to suspect that not all humans make it even past the baby stage.
— he taught you to take care of your own self. and not to care about the ethics. in your case, it's definitely better to be alive than to fall by moral dilemmas. unlike the others, you've only got one life.
— so when you ended up in the gaslight district, it was hard to keep yourself from… experiments. on those who you were performing on while living with the virtues.
— temperance have never ever been interested in immortality as you were, for an obvious reason. you just know he wouldn't accept your urge to become one of… the deathless. you're valuable only because you present as a potential weapon. the most effective deterrent that everyone longs to possess.
— if you want to hide something, put it in the most prominent place. that's how you ended up an employee in the butcher shop.
— in fact, you didn't even expect to become a part of the rotlings so fast. it was quite easy not to be a target but just a… person. a part of society. not perceived as a kind of trophy.
— it was also fun enough to find out that your crew does not just do mundane shop 'n service things. it took some time for them to make you privy to their side activities.
— when it comes to protecting your weak flesh, you wear specifically sewn clothes made of cut-resistant fabric. crafted not without temperance's help.
— it was simple. there is a target. it needs to be silenced. you follow the same opinion as the others: if you get paid, don't ask. your pay is that you are allowed to... explore what's left before cementing it.
— during such, so to say, operations, the only one who comes to you is the golem guy. at first, he kind of intimidated you, standing there, towering over your comparatively tiny frame. you just couldn't get the thought that he can crush you with just one hand out of your mind. but in the end he turned out to be a nice company.
— he helps you to maneuver the bodies for better exploration and does the job that requires physical strength, such as performing a craniotomy or opening up the ribcage. and silence victims as soon as they revive. with time you even learned how to put off the resurrection but couldn't stop it completely, of course.
— you're not talkative, afraid to spill out the unwanted details about your own self. but he seems to… accept it. he never pushes the dialogue or takes it as an offense. he is also extremely attentive to you and leaves as soon as he notices that you want to be alone with yourself.
— you're not directly involved in the skirmishes. you anticipate the target's maneuvers, as well as watch out for any suspicious individuals that may come to their help. you ambush and cut off the escape routes. in general, you stay as far away from the possibility of being injured as possible.
— however, luck is not always on your side. occasionally you get cuts and bruises. nothing too serious and pretty easy to hide.
— until one time, when the chase turned out too tense and unpredictable. for some reason, everyone acted uncoordinated. that led to the stray bullet coming a little too close to your face. slicing flesh a little too deep to easily hide.
— running away would be suspicious. opening up is a sure way to death either. so you decided to just... get smeared with rotling's blood and solve the problem after returning back home.
— however, you underestimated how much Breadhead is protective of his family.
— as if sensing your distress, he appeared nearby and grabbed you, finishing the deal himself with just one hand, keeping you sitting on the other. then took the skinned victim and commented on it:
"let's chop this one up properly, right?"
it made you genuinely smile and laugh heartily.
— thanks to your reclusive reputation, no one bothers you in your hideout. you were able to glue the wound together and disguise it with another layer of makeup.
— little did you know that you weren't alone at the said moment.
— you were taken aback, to say the least, barely holding yourself from gasping in horror when you turned and stumbled at his huge figure.
— considering his size, it was almost impossible not to notice him. but maybe you were too distracted, or your brain just doesn't perceive him as a threat of exposure. he's just become a natural, familiar part of your environment.
— you cannot blame him for coming to you as usual. he's the only one you tolerate at your lair after all. he's brought the victim, as he always does.
— you greeted him, chuckling rather nervously, and fled to the operating table, barely looking at him. the examination went as usual, but the air was filled with tension.
— you felt lightheaded. your limbs didn't behave. never ever were you so freaking scared for your life. considering how tactful he usually is, the direct staring from his side was dreadful to feel on yourself. it's probably locked to the fresh scar.
— you were even so dazed that you accidentally bumped into him a couple of times. strangely enough, you didn't want to escape but to stay close. as much as he's dangerous, you feel that he can also protect you as he selflessly protects his family.
— when you finished and he left to dispose of the body, you were ready the whole family of the smiling dead to come and grab you to perform the human elimination ceremony.
— but nothing happened. everything was suspiciously ordinary. except that he's always been around, like he's afraid to leave you alone. in fact, you thought he was expecting a frame-up from you.
— it was hard to force yourself to go on another outing. you really thought that this time you'd be lynched along with the main target.
— such nervousness resulted in numbness, both mental and physical. and only after it was over did you realize that you were still alive only thanks to him.
— he, of course, noticed your stupor during the hassle. he's been by your side the whole time, tossing you aside from any possible danger.
— you were full of self-loathing. you wanted to tear your mortal body into more pieces than any rotling has ever been torn into. you were born notoriously weak, notoriously defeated. you just couldn't consider yourself the prophesied human. it couldn't be you. you are too pathetic, unable to either save or destroy anything, even your own self.
— suddenly your hatred turned from the inside out. you have nothing more valuable than your own self. and whatever it is, you will gain the desired immortality. you just need to... to dissect a couple of dozen deads.
— you prepared for the hunt and fled to the exit when you bumped into him, right at the entrance to your room. you were going so rapidly that you would have almost fallen if he hadn't caught you.
— and that's when you broke down. you dragged him into the room and shut the door. perhaps you even did it too roughly and, at the same time, insignificantly weakly.
— you were mumbling nonsense. you begged for it to end. you grabbed his hands and placed them on your own throat with a clear hint.
— but he didn't respond to your self-hatred. didn't fuel it, didn't play along. he just stayed by your side until your outburst wore off.
— when you two got back to the others, Mud couldn't help but comment: "congratulations on the first crash! glad you've got that pastry safety cushion to hit on, aren't ya?"
— you haven't discussed what happened, and you're grateful for that. your bond has become the strongest you've ever experienced. maybe that's even what's called love, but you think love's too weak compared to what you two have.
— it's just you never felt alone anymore. even being mortal now wasn't so dreadful. he taught you to love your weaknesses with his tenderness towards them. it didn't stop you from searching for the solution, but at least it wasn't fuelling your self-deprecation this much anymore.
