someone in the rbs of my ref asked if they could kiss him and the answer is “yes but i get to kiss him first” lmfao anyway have some post innovation doodles for my au
not telling u just what kind of au it is yet because i think the revelation will be funny
and mama solace because i love her… i might do a proper design for her later. that first one made me scream and cry btw. i hate the hands but idk what else to do with em
Despite the gloomy and decrepit mood pervading Urbanshade’s Blacksite, there was still beauty to be found. It was hard to find at times, but wasn’t beauty in the eye of the beholder?
Urbanshade’s officers were initially confused when you told them this during your debriefing. Most criminals had no goal beyond getting the lost crystal and regaining their freedom.
And yeah, that was a good goal and all, but it was your second priority.
You just wanted to draw. You’d been in an art block for…years now. A cramped prison cell would do that to about anybody, and the small notebook you possessed was quickly filled up with your fantasies, your dreams, and most prevalent, your drawings. You hadn’t been allowed a second one. The guards must’ve thought you were planning something nefarious, with how much you begged for paper.
Luckily, it wasn’t too long after that Urbanshade approached your prison, requesting volunteers for their search-and-retrieve mission.
They must’ve thought you insane as you paged through the files of the Blacksite, a smile on your face as you nodded at grainy images captured by their failing security cameras. You called it pretty. Their expressions told you it was anything but.
Nonetheless, they must’ve seen some capability, as here you are.
With a monotone ring, the submarine disembarks, leaving you stranded at the research facility. The air is stale, and you pick up on the scent of fish and sea salt. Hmm. If you switch perspectives…and close your eyes…maybe this could be a very far-fetched beach vacation?
You stomp on the idea immediately. There are definitely threats here, ones that could very well extinguish the flame that is your life. Why else would you be picked instead of Urbanshade’s security? You have to remain somewhat focused. But as you stare down at the sketchbook and cheap pencil that Urbanshade had given you—a measly request that the officers must’ve rolled their eyes at—you wonder how long you’ll be able to keep that up.
You look up as the PA system crackles to life overhead. You’re reminded, once again, of your main mission, and you hope the guy on the other side doesn’t hear you scoff as you plow forward.
Yeah, yeah, get your head out of the clouds, stay focused. Like you haven’t heard all that before.
You’re only at your 10th door when you see it.
The lights flicker ominously. You weren’t told about this in your debriefing, and your heart skips a beat when the echo of roaring grows louder behind you. The only thing you can think of is to stay out of sight—and a locker happens to be so conveniently placed on the wall to your left. You hurriedly open it, and the metal doors close just enough that a sliver of light shines across your face.
The roaring becomes so loud you squint your eyes—as your hands are keeping the locker shut—keeping one of them open just enough to see—
A face. You catch sight of a face for only a split second, staring at you from the gloom, before it disappears charging down the hall. The creature takes the lights with it.
You, however, remain in the locker, digesting what you just saw.
That thing was like no animal you’ve seen before. The toothy maw you spotted was like no human, either. What was that?
You’re tempted to be…terrified. You think if you were someone else, you might’ve been. You might’ve decided to stop right then and there. But for some reason, you just have the itch to draw it.
You leave the locker, as you’re still in the dark and are not the best at drawing with your eyes closed. When you do, you bump into something…fleshy.
“Ah, sorry,” you say instinctively, stepping back to create space. That is until you realize you’re supposed to be alone in this place, and—
A white face meets yours in the void.
A shriek gets caught in your throat, goosebumps flaring all over your limbs, but your body reacts before you do. You scramble away from the thing and its ominous roar that grows in volume the longer you spend in its presence.
Thoroughly freaked out, you use your hands to guide yourself along the wall until the door to the next room jolts open. Unfortunately, the next room is still dark. Despite the terrifying scare, you were hoping to get a glimpse of the white-faced creatures…maybe even sketch it if you got the chance.
The feeling grows with every strange, horrifying creature you meet. A shark that tries to get you to stare at it. A clawed monster that hides behind false doors. Living vines that grow angry when you step upon their soil. Armless creatures that live in the walls, waiting to snatch you from behind.
They scare you at first. But, eventually, perhaps much quicker than it should’ve, your brain registers and saves every scratch, every bite, and hit and bruise as a lesson. Luckily, you were able to find a medkit along the way, but the biggest thing on your mind are the ideas that form with every creature you face, wondering how to best translate them to paper.
You’d tried to duck into a side room and spend some time getting your thoughts down on paper, but not even three minutes later, the intercom above threatened you with detonation if you remained idle. You murmur curses under your breath as you’re forced to keep moving, staring mournfully at the half-finished drawings in your book. Well, it’s as good a time as ever to practice gesture drawing.
Eventually, at door 59, a vent cover flies off, having been punched hard enough to collide with the opposite wall.
“Hey, over here!” A voice whispers through the vent, immediately making you pause. The only other thing that’s spoken to you is the multi-eyed shark. It sounds…awfully human, but you’re aware you can’t always trust your senses.
“Don’t be scared,” it continues as you approach the vent. “I’ve got a few things for ya.”
If you were anyone else, you would’ve run. You’d spent enough time here to know that appearances are deceiving, and it's easier to flee than to pursue the thought of having an ally. It would have been smart to run. Despite that, you find yourself crawling into the vent nonetheless, expecting to find another human.
You don’t.
The room is dark for only a moment before a light flickers on, bathing the place in a warm glow. Immediately, you meet the gaze of what you can only describe as a…giant fish?
“Welcome, welcome!” It gestures with three arms. “Don’t be afraid, I’m not gonna hurt you, despite what you have seen, heard and/or been told. My name is Sebastian.”
The fish-snake-whale hybrid says more, but his words turn into background noise as your attention shifts to his appearance. He takes up the room's length, his serpentine form spanning from wall to wall. You wonder how much space he’d take up if unconfined. His tail tapers into two wide fins that shift occasionally, but the esca—the glowing lure atop his head—dominates the room with its eerie, flickering light. His eyes glow a soft blue. They’re notably pupil-less, making it impossible to tell where his gaze lands. Though undeniably animalistic, his rather ornate attire adds an unsettling layer of familiarity. Three arms are at his disposal, with two on the left side and one on the right. The lowermost arm on his left seems to be smaller than the others. Nonetheless, they all end in the same razor-sharp claws.
Something is fascinating about him—it sets him apart from the others, who would have attacked you without hesitation by now. Any attempt to classify him fails.
Slowly, you pull out your sketchbook from its holster on your waist, its pages filled with hurried sketches scrawled while on the move and more deliberate ones stolen in brief moments of safety. As you flip to a blank page, your mind races to capture Sebastian’s intriguing form.
But when you glance back, his expression has twisted, the subtle displeasure unmistakable. You blink rapidly, your focus snapping back to the present.
“Something wrong, expendable? You looked quite…lost there. Scared, perhaps?” He leans closer to your level, a grin spreading to reveal a row of pointed teeth.
You cant your head, unfazed. “Oh, no, sorry! I was being rude. Forgive me for being a bit forward, but I think you’re very pretty.”
Whatever Sebastian is about to say dies on his tongue. The smirk fades from his face. He flinches, immediately backing away from you, raising himself to his full height in one fluid motion. He stares at you with wide eyes. A tense silence emanates throughout the room, with the fish seemingly grappling with your words and you watching on with confusion.
Sebastian’s hands once clasped confidently when you entered, are now hanging awkwardly before him.
“...What.”
You wince at the realization that you might’ve crossed a line. “Oh. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I mean…you look very cool.” You give him an awkward double-thumbs up, scratching the back of your head as Sebastian continues to stare.
His ear fins—not human, but another feature that piques your intrigue—flatten against his black, glossy hair. “Why would you…say that?”
Your confusion deepens, why wouldn’t you say that? You’re not the type to hold back on your feelings. You say things as you see them, how they are.
“I said it because I noticed it?”
The hybrid’s gaze narrows. “You’re making fun of me.” It’s not a question, but a cold, detached accusation. His tone is considerably lower than before, and the hairs on your nape rise, as if you’re toeing the line between life and death.
“I’m really not.” You try to diffuse the tense atmosphere, and reach for your sketchbook—your solution, your olive branch. “Would looking through my sketchbook persuade you?”
“Would looking through your—how the hell do you think that would…” Sebastian cuts himself off, shaking his head in frustration. “No, I don’t want to look through it! Bigger question, has someone told you about me? Why aren’t you terrified?”
“Terrified of who?” You ask, genuinely puzzled.
His throaty growl reverberates throughout the room. “Of me.”
You send him a small smile, hoping it doesn’t set him off. “Like I said, I’m not scared of you because you’re pretty. Or maybe, ‘handsome’ would fit better. You’re a male, right?” You flip through your sketchbook to that blank page once more, missing the way Sebastian flinches once more. “I was actually going to ask if I could…draw you, maybe? You can have the sketch when you’re done, if you want.”
When you look at Sebastian again, you can’t decipher his expression. His glowing eyes peer into yours nonetheless, searching for something you’re not privy to.
“There’s something seriously wrong with you,” he ends up saying.
Huh. You guess it is a strange request. You’ve been in the Blacksite long enough to know there isn’t much time to do anything else but survive. Sebastian must not be used to anyone asking differently of him.
“So, is that a no…?” You prod, and the fish groans in frustration.
“Yes—it’s a fucking no.” He gestures to his tail before you can speak up, voice weary. You take notice of the items strapped to it. “Just take something and get out. Keycard’s on the table.”
Perusing his items, you take interest in the flashlight. Reaching out to take it, your hand is suddenly caught in a grasp twice as large as yours. Looking up at Sebastian, you take note of the displeased frown that sours his face.
“This isn’t a charity,” he grits out. “Cough up the research.”
“The research?”
Irritation leaves him in a weary sigh. “Did you not listen to anything I said?”
You give him a guilty expression, and the fish leans back, groaning loudly, dragging one of his three arms over his face. In the movement, his hair parts to reveal a third eye, smaller than the others. You tuck that detail in the back of your mind, already imagining what the drawing will look like.
“Okay. That’s fine.” Sebastian growls, tossing your hand away like it disgusts him. “On your way here, you were supposed to pick up research. Vials, documents, thumb drives, all of it. Did you?”
“Uh, yeah! Yeah, I did.” You search your pockets, pulling out a handful of drives. Huh, didn’t you get more than that? You shake your backpack off of you to pull out…three documents. You have the foreboding feeling that this is not enough.
When you tell Sebastian such, he is silent. You can tell he’s glancing between your handful and the three documents, with you prepping for a verbal lashing. His tail twitches once, then twice.
His mouth downturns into a derisive sneer. “That isn’t even enough for batteries. Are you stupid? Seriously, how useless can one Expendable get?” His disappointment is palpable. But you are no stranger to that.
The lashing doesn’t bother you. You just shrug, moving to the table where the aforementioned batteries are to lay your offering down.
“Sorry it isn’t much, but I’m sure you can make use of it anyway. There’s probably others who need your stock more than I do.”
Sebastian’s gaze turns into something more sinister. Different from the snarkiness you’d seen before. “You know, coming into my shop and not buying anything makes for bad business. I should kill you for that.”
You’re beginning to think you won’t ever win with this particular fish. Your frustration hides as a quiet sigh. “I’d rather you not. And isn’t this situation better for you anyway? You get your data, and you get to keep your items.”
A hiss ruptures the air, and you look up to find Sebastian’s face only a few inches away. “Don’t be a smartass, now.”
“I don’t intend to be,” you quip, a revelation popping into your head. You’ve been here for over five minutes now, and there’s been no overhead PA system nagging at you to get a move on. There’s something different about this room, and now that you’ve thought of it, there don’t seem to be any cameras observing you.
“Hey, question,” you start, a small smile on your face as Sebastian’s eyes narrow at you. However, he doesn’t move away, seemingly finding comfort in towering over you. If it makes him feel better, you won’t inquire about it. “Are we being watched?”
The fish looks displeased. “And why do you want to know that.”
“There’s this guy on the PA system,” you gesture to the ceiling above you with a flippant hand, “who hates seeing me draw. He threatens to detonate me when I sit for too long, which I guess makes sense. But at the same time, he’s not the one risking his life, you know? I should have some freedom in how I spend my time. All I’m asking for is twenty minutes.
“But there doesn’t seem to be any cameras in here, so I was wondering…if you’d let me stay in here for a bit? Just so I can get my drawings on paper. It won’t take long, promise!”
Again, you’re met with a blank look from Sebastian. Except this time, he remains that way, just…studying you. At least, you think he is. It’s hard to tell where he’s looking at, so you’re left to assume.
A small, choked whimper squeezes out of his throat. Then, you startle at the sound of raucous laughter, Sebastian leaning back as his mirth disturbs the silence. You’re not so sure what’s funny, but perhaps this means he isn’t so inclined to kill you anymore.
A clawed hand stretches over his eyes, wiping away invisible tears. “Seriously, what the hell? What idiot thought sending you down here was a good idea? Then again, Urbanshade’s always been full of bastards, so I shouldn’t be surprised.”
Your fingers tap a swift melody over the hardcover of your sketchbook as you await an answer. Sebastian seems to find something hilarious about you as he uncovers his eyes to observe your unbothered, yet confused expression once more, nearly teetering into another fit of laughter. His mouth curves into a large grin, revealing a row of pointy teeth.
“It’s a miracle you haven’t died yet. You think, ha! You think, of all places, the Blacksite is where you can indulge in art? Really?”
Shrugging, you avert your gaze. Though, it’s impossible to hide the evidence of your merriment. “Hey, I let them know my intentions from the start and they still gave me the all clear. I haven’t died yet, so I’ve gotta be doing something right. Now, about my question?”
Sebastian shakes his head, as if in disbelief at your very existence in the Blacksite. The mirth slightly fades from his expression, and you wait for his verdict like a defendant awaiting their sentence. Ironic.
“The only reason I’m even considering your foolish request, and that you’re still alive right now is because I find your stupidity…mildly amusing.”
While stupidity isn’t the exact word you’d use, you value your life. Deciding to keep your difference in opinions to yourself, you prod further. “So, is that a—”
“—Ten minutes. That’s all the time you get.” As you open your mouth to argue, Sebastian smirks, “Nonnegotiable. I don’t want an Expendable in my space longer than necessary. Off you get; your time started 15 seconds ago.”
Your mouth snaps shut, and you quickly glance about the room for a place to make the most of your ten minutes. A spot next to a crate and in front of a shelf is your best bet—there are no chairs in here, not like the side rooms you had spotted earlier. You suppose with Sebastian’s figure, there’d be no need for such.
Flipping open your sketchbook to a blank white page, the possibilities of what to draw stalk your mind, but there’s only one thing you can think of drawing.
Sebastian himself. He refused the offer initially, but you think it’d cheer him up. The crankiness he exudes is reminiscent of one who’s been cooped up for too long.
You peek a glance at the hybrid to get an idea of where to start—only to find that he’s already staring at you. He doesn’t give any evidence of shame or guilt at having been caught in the act, not that you expected him to. His ear fins only sway in an invisible breeze.
“Got artblock, Expendable?” He taunts, hands crossing over one another like they had when you first entered. “Truly unfortunate.”
You shake your head, focusing back on your page. This time when you put the pencil to paper, you turn your surroundings into background noise. You do your best to put Sebastian on the page without glancing at him too much—it's a good way to practice drawing from memory, at least. You hear the rustling of papers at one point, of pages being flipped, and assume that Sebastian found something to read through in your silence.
The hardest part is getting his clothes right. Occasionally you have to cheat some and sneak some furtive glances at him. Otherwise, the fish makes for a unique figure. Unfortunately, no color can be added to him, other than light grey, to grey, to black, but you make do.
Sebastian clicks when your allotted time is up. It felt so much shorter than that, however, and you wonder if that was intentional. “Times up, get out.”
“Thanks, Sebastian,” you look up, thankfully having completed your drawing. Sebastian, whose expression had previously been a mischievous smirk—most likely at getting to kick you out—turned confused.
He shakes his head as you get up, an exasperated sigh leaving his mouth. He gestures with his third arm toward the vent. Without a second thought, you rip out a page from your sketchbook and place it on the desk with the pale manila file on it. You pat it once, give Sebastian a final wave, and then leave the alcove.
All the while, the shopkeeper’s gaze follows you, all until the clatter of the vent subsides. He stares at the opening for a minute longer, wondering if everything he experienced was…real.
You’re strange. Undeniably so. And confusing in a way that makes it difficult to tell if you’re being sincere or not. It’s safer to assume the latter after those terrible, hellish experiments—but still, Sebastian questions.
Cautiously, he slithers over to the table where the batteries are kept, peering at the page you left behind. His current breath falters in his lungs as he takes it in.
It’s…him.
He doesn’t like to look at himself anymore. Not after Urbanshade ruined him beyond repair. Unfortunately, he caught a few glances when he was hired to service the Blacksite as an MR-P. He never stared into the glass, and averted his gaze when he caught sight of himself in a pool of water. Sebastian knew he had everything going for him as a monster.
Sebastian’s claws hover over the page. You’ve drawn him in a simple pose, his main arms folded while the third waves. A smile dons the paper Sebastian’s face, wide and toothy, eyes upturned with glee. His tail coils beneath him in gentle loops. Tracing a claw over it, the shopkeeper notes the gentle lines throughout the fabric of his clothes, and even the messy strands of his hair.
How did you capture this all in seven minutes? He didn’t even give you the full length of time—and this is what you made? Is this what you see of him?
You even called him pretty. Were you not joking? Were you serious? The implications of the latter leave Sebastian at a standstill.
He doesn’t realize he’s holding the paper so tightly until a slight rip permeates the silence. He relaxes immediately.
The page has a small rip at the bottom, barely reaching the tail of his paper twin. He wonders if he should rip it further, and destroy this…disgustingly idyllic version of him.
Sebastian stares at the entrance of the vent as if you’d be crouched there, smiling at him in that hopelessly unaware way. His mind walks through the encounter once more. Your flippant acceptance of his appearance, your disregard of his snarky attitude, like you didn’t care—
It irks him, but he’s hesitant to admit it intrigues him. He finds himself wishing for your early demise, just so he can confront you once more. Of all things, of all the requests he could’ve gotten from an Expendable, yours was the most unexpected. The most unreasonable for a place such as this. He wants to…to pick your brain apart, question you until you finally drop that uncaring attitude and snap. He wants to know why.
Turning back to the drawing, Sebastian finds that the turmoil of whether to tear the thing to shreds or not has mostly receded. He won’t, at least not today.
The shopkeeper slithers back to the furthest wall from the vent, keeping your drawing in view all the while. He fixates on it, and will continue to until the next Expendables arrive.
And while he does, eyes tracing the lines over and over again, a new feeling stirs in his chest. Something…light. Something he hasn’t felt since being outside of the Blacksite.
I was stuck with this idea in my mind so have some writing just to get it out of my system. I can't write fic so this should suffice
TW: Cannibalism, death (not permanent too)
EXR-P who tries too hard to get closer to the shopkeeper, who is clearly annoyed with the persistent pest. He made it clear the lack of interest in small talk with the "you don't make questions, I don't make questions" at his introduction but they are THAT stubborn to ignore it and keep trying.
EXR-P who despite being annoying is pretty decent of a client. Everytime they come, there's no animosity, and when accompanied by a team they keep them in line and try stopping them from flashing him with the beacons. It works most of the time. Most.
EXR-P who notices the time doesn't reset at every death, especially after Sebastian jokes about finding their corpse and taking the loot. They recognize the flashlight from last run, it has a smily sticker from the previously owner. Also, they are annoyed to have to pay for it again...
EXR-P who starts to questions how much time they have been down there. They remember being sent the first time close to 24 hours after hell broke loose in the Blacksite, and get shocked when they find out it's almost three days of lockdown.
EXR-P who starts to scavenge for food along loose data. They also starts being more careful not to die and actually get out with the crystal. They got self conscious at keeping everyone in misery thanks to their curiosity. But well, it's not everyday you can explore a secret evil base of a capitalist science company who do a lot of inhumane stuff, including a deal with the literal Devil.
EXR-P who realizes too quickly it's hard to find food. A bunch of vending machines are broken or infested with the weird coral. The best they can find is some cereal bars in a drawer– not enough for the big fish guy.
EXR-P who ends up being impulsive and suggesting Sebastian to eat their corpse if they end up dying in this run. Of course, if their body is in a state to be consumed. They figured that his mutations would allow him to digest raw meat so, why not.
EXR-P who is kicked out of the shop for even making that suggestion. Sebastian is mad. They should have thought that one out before talking. "He has been dehumanized enough and you suggests cannibalism? DUMBASS!" Guess they just got too worried to think through the implications.
.
.
.
Sebastian who is been doing his best to keep it together. No sleep and little food are certainly taking its tool. But he can't allow himself to rest, or else risk Urbanshade killing him for that slip.
Sebastian who, reluctantly, starts entertaining the suggestion from that pest. "No... not again." He tells himself, but his body has other priorities. He is big, and that one time wasn't enough to sustain him for long.
Sebastian who goes out scavenging for goods for the shop and documents to Innovation Inc. Suddenly startled by p.AI.nter on the radio updating on that EXR-P: it seems they just got caught by Blitz.
Sebastian who, after the basics Post Morten formalities with the EXR-P, is back on track and finds their corpse. They were closer to a locker, apparently trying to hide. If it was any other angler, heck, even Pandemonium, they would survive. They were pretty unlucky.
Sebastian who takes what is useful and is ready to leave, before laying a hand over his empty stomach. It's starting to hurt, getting harder to focus. Just like last time...
Sebastian who eats the cereal bars looted from the corpse, hoping it would suffice. Nope, he is still hungry. Of course it won't be enough...
Sebastian who now sinks his sharp teeth into a person's meat. "I'm not human," he keeps telling himself to detach from the act he is doing. His own way to cope. But he still cries: disgust. Disgust with himself. The worst is it doesn't even tastes bad.
Sebastian who, now sated, remembers this was a suggestion from the same person he just ate. THEY offered themselves. So... this wasn't so bad, right? After all, that prick has been pestering at him to take care of himself, and he just did that.
Sebastian who jokes about looting their corpse the next run, even mentioning the cereal bars he took and ate. But doesn't talk about what happened to the corpse.
You Have Turned Our Paradise Amongst the Stars Into a Tomb
Due to some motivation, I’ve decided to post my favorite fics I’ve written on here. Enjoy.
TWs & Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Medical Experimentation, Medical Torture, Hiding Medical Issues, Canon-Typical Gore, Self-Harm, Mentions of War
Sebastian Solace (Pressure) x Original Character
Sebastian and Niko. Cellmates, then friends, then lovers, then (non-legally) husbands. They’re gonna get out of there. Get their days in the sun. Just like Sebastian promised.
(Sebastian has to take care of a semi-dying Niko, trying to keep him alive as long as he can while trying to escape.)
Chapter 1: All My Love Came From Me and That Remains
cats in the cold
mage tears
Sebastian filed through the bits of data the Expendable presented him with. He hummed as the Expendable smiled nervously. Niko was sat firmly on his shoulder, observing it with him. His dark hair was a mess. He hasn't seen a mirror in years, and he stopped caring ages ago.
The data was...okay. Not the best, not the worst. Some minor blackmail material. He sighed in response. The Expendable, however, seemed particularly stuck on staring at Niko. He didn't stare back. But Sebastian did.
"...what're you lookin' at, huh?" The Expendable quickly looked away while Sebastian scoffed, looking over the data once more. He's already finished, he just wanted to take longer just to be a dick.
Niko coughed, a normal behavior for him due to his worsening state, and Sebastian looked over, trying to hide his worry.
"..y'okay?" Niko nodded in response, leaning on him.
Sebastian sighed and tossed the Expendable the item as they scampered off, likely to go get killed in some other gruesome way that the two can't bring themselves to care about anymore. Sebastian lifted Niko off his shoulder, setting him on the pipe and rifling through what little supplies they had, taking inventory once more.
"Y'feel good enough to go out? You don't think you're gonna flare again, do you?"
"No, I'll be fine." Niko muttered as he stretched his limbs out once more.
"You sure? I'm not picking your ass up if you flare again. You're stuck." An obvious lie. Sebastian would go through hell and back, even if he didn't like to admit it.
"I'm sure. I'm fine. The usual aches and pains, but it's...whatever."
Sebastian wanted to say something, a part of him did at least. Say that it'll be okay, stupid lies he was fed at the beginning. The two knew lies like that weren't useful.
"..I'll get us outta here. Don't die." Sebastian said instead. Niko nodded and grabbed his bag. He was so, so exhausted. But he had to go on.
And he was off. It was more of the same. Dodging creatures that Niko knew used to be real people with goals, hopes, dreams, families, reduced to nothing but pain and agony and so, so much rage. Picking up a medkit with a grin on his face, he rifled through it. Gauze. Antiseptic. Hell, even some Tylenol. He shoved it in his bag and continued on. When his insides started to itch, he decided it was time to go back. He ignored the pain in his bones, in his very being, and kept walking. Forward and onwards, shoving himself into lockers just in case those creatures forgot that Sebastian would rip them to shreds if they hurt him, and he didn’t want to run the risk. Soon enough, he found the vent and dropped to his knees, fiddling with it with unsteady hands that couldn’t seem to grasp anything for the life of him. He swung open the vent and crawled in, breathing somewhat heavily. He fell onto the floor and decided that would be a nice resting spot for a bit. The concrete was cool against his cheek, and he could feel his bones settling as he lay there. Sebastian took the bag off his shoulders, trying not to jostle him too much. He groaned a bit, feeling his clothes rubbing against the bandages which, in turn, rubbed against the bruised lines on his new spine.
“Sorry, sorry..” Sebastian muttered as he lifted the bag off his back. He rifled through it, then set it away.
Picking up Niko, he promptly laid him down on a makeshift cot in the room, just for him. It was still stained with blood from flareups of the past. Sebastian winced just thinking about them.
”There we go. What hurts? Are you flaring? Fuck, I shouldn’t have let you go out…” he tapped a claw against his chin in thought.
Niko tried to respond, to tell him it was alright, but all that came out was a strangled groan. Sebastian began to pace, fidgeting with the ring on his finger. It was made of scrap metal, melted down into a ring.
”Okay. Uh…fuck, this is bad. Can you talk? At all?”
He shook his head in response. Sebastian took a breath. He turned to face the computer, happily drawing a landscape.
“p.AI.nter. Do you have any idea on what to do?”
He sprung to life, his little doodle-face covering the screen. The computer paused, thinking.
”Just do what you always do. Wait it out. It’s worked, hasn’t it?”
Sebastian sighed in response, sitting down on the floor next to the cot. Everything was stressing him out. Trying to escape, taking care of Niko, the Expendables, Urbanshade…all of it. He ran a hand over his face, the coolness of his clawed hand providing a small sense of calm.
”Just…rest, okay? I’ll find a way to fix this. I’ll make it better. I promise.” It was a lie. Partially. It’s not that Sebastian didn’t want to make it better, he did. He wanted days in the sun and to have mundane moments with him. He wished they could have been normal together, but the two knew they wouldn’t have been together any other way.
“Okay. Okay. Is it the…spine thing again? I know it’s, like, internal, and the bandages don’t really do anything, but-“ His pathetic stumble over words was interrupted by the worst sound Sebastian has ever heard in his life. Flesh tearing, groan-sobs of pain. His eyes widened.
He instantly went to ripping off his shirt and bandages to assess to wound. God, he wanted to puke at the sight. A second spine had grown, now poking out of his flesh, torn and growing out, too big for his body. Blood was ever-flowing, seeping through the thin mattress and dripping slowly on the floor. He could see bits of his flesh still attached to the spine. The bone was soaked in blood. Sebastian sucked in a few panicked breaths, trying to figure out what the fuck he’s supposed to do in this situation while Niko wailed.
He applied what little medical equipment he had to the wound, sparing no thought to the future Sebastian and Niko that would likely need it later. He wrapped the spine once more. He used his other arm to pet his hair, to offer any comfort he possibly could. He shushed him softly, muttering things he himself didn’t even register.
He observed. Watching. Niko seemed to have passed out at some point. Understandable. He didn’t hold it against him. Tear tracks were impressed upon his face, an expression of pain upon his features even in slumber.
“Please be okay,” Sebastian whispered. p.AI.nter stared at the two of them, silent. No snarky comments. This was pure human emotion, something he had not experienced and never will. All he can do is watch, see the desperation and love in their eyes as they grasped at what little hope they still had.
Days passed. Niko was doing…mildly better. There was still a giant open wound on his back, but he was…conscious. Able to speak somewhat. Sebastian grew increasingly protective and snarky. He was tired. Anybody could see it. They could see it in the bruising under his eyes, the heavy movements of his limbs, the way his smile (usually directed to Niko or an expendable’s suffering) didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Niko, most days, slept. Sebastian stood in front of him every time an Expendable came in. Guarding him from their view, like even a look would shatter them like glass. Sebastian blamed it on the DNA inside him, something about pup protectiveness or whatever. But he knew he was doing it because of love. Whatever distorted, blood and pus-filled version they had. It was desperate, clawing at each other to stay, stay just a little longer. Begging one another to not go just yet, to not be taken to the other room that is death.
Niko was sipping partially dirty water from a cup, sitting up and leaning against Sebastian. They were silent. Silence was usually normal. They had things to speak about, sure, but the two were usually too tired to even consider it.
“…love you.” Niko muttered. Sebastian’s fins fluttered a bit, and drooped as a stupid grin fell on his face.
”Love you too. Idiot.” Niko made a sound in reaction. He couldn’t say much; flares of this degree seemed to take away his speech. He’s spoken English most of his life. He felt like an idiot for having trouble now. He has trouble with everything nowadays.
Eating. Standing. Walking. Sleeping. He feels so fucking pathetic, having to ask for help with basic human tasks. He is still a human. He is still a human. He is still a human. He repeats that on a daily basis. Reminding himself that despite the fact his eyes glow, and his freckles do as well like sea-spray, and that his claws and fangs are sharper than average, and that his heart is a ticking time-bomb and sometimes he just throws up spare organs that have been growing inside of him for god-knows-how-long, and that sometimes he doesn’t even sound human, he is a human. He is a human.
Heyyyy sorry for the wait, but i got some questions!! Ahem, ahem...
1. Does Ivy trust us? What's her opinion about us? Does she think we're weird, protective, aggressive, cold or what?
2. How long does P.ai.nter like us? Did he like us the first time he saw, us or did it take some months?
3. Can i pet P.ai.nter? And if i did... Would he feel it? And does he like it? Please say yes
And here's a little gift, take it as a late Christmas present (it took like, 7 hours)
AAAAAAAHHHHHH HE'S NAKED
Every time i would draw his arms all i thought was Murder Drones, Murder Drones, Murder Drones
Also, sorry if the shading is awkward, i really don't get it and just started learning
OMG OMG OMG!!! THIS IS SO AWESOME! Tbh I genuinely cried when I saw this cus like, someone likes my weird computer fanfic enough that they spent 7 FUCKING HOURS to make something for it T-T. You have no idea how much you have single handedly motivated me to keep this project going. Before this the most I’ve ever written of any of my writing projects was a little over 1 chapter, but you have been giving me the strength to keep this up since like day fucking one. Sorry for the rant, I just thought you needed to know how much you’ve helped me >:3 Also the art is fucking ✨gorgeous✨
Now, for the questions:
1. What is Ivy’s opinion on Fox Face/does she trust them?
Ivy is definitely wary of Fox Face, as she is with anyone, but perceives them as female (I hc them to have a higher voice), so she trusts them more than someone she perceives as male.
The main reason she opened up to Fox Face was because that traumatic event was such a recent wound that she still hadn’t really processed it and she’d gotten so used to telling the cops/judges everything.
Overall I don’t think she has many coherent thoughts about them as she’s still not fully grasping where she is and what’s going on. She was raised that if she was ever confused or scared, to just shut off her brain and let an adult/her husband handle it.
2. How long has P.ai.nter liked Fox Face?
It was love at first sight. That man has been a simp since day 1.
He first saw Fox Face through the security cams and watched them monologue about another expendable’s sins while they killed them and was kinda just like “THAT! That right there is my future spouse.”
Honestly makes me think of “Fight for Me” from Heathers: the Musical
(Also I hc him as a theater kid so it is entirely possible that he was dancing around his apartment and singing that while this random expendable is being fucking stabbed to death)
3. Can you pet P.ai.nter and would he like it or even be able to feel it at all?
YES!!!!
He has heat and pressure (haha, Pressure) sensors all over his body so he can definitely feel touch!
He absolutely LOVES being touched and caressed to the point he will rub himself against people like a cat.
His tail and wires (internal and external) are super sensitive (as in the most sensitive parts of his body(especially the wires)) so that he only allows a partner to touch them. His tail is slightly less sensitive than his wires as he can still use it to hold onto stuff without it being super overstimulating. But if you were to, say, run your hand along it, that would still basically reduce him to a cuddly puddle in your lap.
