May I Request Wesker With S/o Whos A Mind Reader? It Can Be Spicy If You Want

May I request Wesker with s/o who’s a mind reader? It can be spicy if you want 😳

Thank you! ❤️

[snaps head around] hehe *precedes to try and sneak a breeding kink in again*

You’ve always been able to hear people’s thoughts, typically it was when you could just focus on someone’s head and all their emotions, thoughts and feelings would be clear to you. However there were some people who had such loud thoughts that you could hear them regardless, luckily these people were few and far between, saving you a headache. This…skill of yours made you a very good detective, to the point where the STARS team captain took notice of you. Your ability to read someone made you valuable to him, it was a risk for him, you knew that, as you could read someone like a book, but your skill was too valuable to pass up.

Over the years you two developed a friendship, it wasn’t awkward or seemed to be based on manipulation like the others but you still were cautious. He had many thoughts about killing the others and you could never be too careful.

But the weirdest day though, was when you were getting thoughts that definitely were not your own.

“God, why do they look so good in that uniform?”

That was a familiar voice, you thought as your eyes looked around, resting your hand on your cheek to look less suspicious.

“Fuck, I want to kiss them so bad.”

Your head went up to look over at Wesker’s office, his shades were open which was rare but you two were the only ones in the office at the moment. Oh, so that’s where the thoughts were coming from? That’s…interesting… Your eyes found his quickly, his shades were pushed into his hair, he quickly looked away from you when you stared at him.

“Dammit, I need to stop staring, they’re so pretty.”

Maybe your suspicions didn’t mean anything, maybe he did actually like you?

“I just want to fuck them hard enough to break the bed.”

WOAH- okay what the fuck- your head turned in his direction once more, his head was down, probably looking at some papers.

“They have such a pretty mouth, I’d love to fuck it.”

Sir, you are the boss, you cannot be thinking like this about your subordinate-

“Maybe they’d give me a little heir if I asked? Hmm…nice and round…”

SIR- SIR- THIS IS THE RACCOON CITY POLICE DEPARTMENT. Quickly standing up you headed your way out the door, feeling his eyes following you as you walked briskly.

“God I want to smack their thighs.”

So maybe your captain liked you more than you thought.

Infected/Zombie Reader helping RE men (Leon K., Carlos O., & Ethan W.)

Somewhat based on that one zombie reader post by @qdbs-writes because honestly it was really cute and this idea has been bouncing in my brain for a bit. I’m going to preface that I’ve only played RE2R, but I have a vague understanding of the RE lore and stories, i’m only doing these three because I know them the best, if I knew chris better I would’ve added him

(this is just a suggestion but here’s what’s damaged on your zombie body: right eye gone, right cheek crewed off, left shoulder nearly gone, and several bites all around)

Leon S. Kennedy (RE2)

You’re one of the many, many, people who fled to the RPD to escape the growing hoards of zombies, unfortunately you were infected early on and hid out in one of the many storage rooms as you succumbed to the virus

…but your conscious stays somewhat intact, sure every thought is slower and less verbose but you still have some of it left, speaking is hard as well but you can speak to some degree

you stay on the third floor, observing Marvin and eventually Leon once he comes in

You’re enamored as soon as you see him, so you decide to try and help him as he goes through the entire RPD, placing some ammo here, some boards there, in general helping out behind the scenes despite how slow you move

This slowness bites you when you go down to the main hall to place a green and red plant you had found next to the typewriter, since Leon had been limping for quite awhile around the RPD

You gently place the two plants (still in the containers, you can’t grind them up due to the shakiness in your zombified hands) but you hear Leon coming down from the second floor library so you try and shuffle back into a room to hide again, until you hear the click of his gun

You turn around and see Leon, gun raised to likely give you a headshot like he’s given to plenty of the other zombies around (you know since you’ve seen plenty bodies with exploded heads..)

So you just, start shuffling backwards with arms raised in peace, mumbling ‘sorry.. sorry.. please, no.. hurt’ as best you can with your undead voice, which comes out pretty rough

Leon was about to shoot you but as soon as he saw you back away and mumble what sounded like human speech and not just growls and rumbles, so he lowers his gun slightly, tilting his head at you

You escape into the west office, and Leon fully lowers his gun and then looks at the plants you left him (he uses them, he’s not an idiot to ignore a healing item when he’s been at ‘danger’ for 2 hours)

When Leon unlocks the Goddess statue you come out from hiding and softly approach, and hand him some ammo and healing items “good.. byye..” you say to him look at him with your singular eye (you lost the other one when you got infected) before starting to walk off

Leon watches you walk away, about to hide again and he hesitates before saying “Wait, would you… like to come with me?”.

He watches you turn slightly and grumble “..you.. sure?”

He nods at you and you walk back up to him, and follow him as he goes down the stairs

Bonus:

During the G-3 fight you help by throwing yourself at him and stab one of the eyes with a knife Leon gave you, smiling in triumph when you stab an eye fully

Ada is very cautious and nearly shoots you several times, she thinks you’re just in the early stages of infection and she doesn’t want you killing her pawn (leon) before he gets the virus for her

When you get on the train Claire and Sherry are a bit wary of you but during the trip they start to like you, Leon’s account helps a lot as well

Carlos Oliveria (RE3)

Similar to Leon’s, you’re one of the people who fled to the RPD and got infected, and hid in a storage room (this storage room was clearly for all the Christmas decor… the bells gave it away)

You picked off the bells and kept them in a small box, as well as stealing post-it notes and a pen from the west office

From the second floor you watch Carlos and Tyrell make their way in, watching them scope out the place

As soon as you saw Carlos, you muttered under your breath “he..h.. scruffy..”

You noticed he was having a hard time with the Lickers, so you decided to make use of the bells you took, throwing them down hallways out of sight of Carlos so the Lickers chased the noise

He heard the chiming, making a remark like “The hell is that coming from?”

After awhile of doing this, you decided to just gift Carlos the bells

You place them on a desk with the brightest sticky note you could find

He finds it, noticing the stark contrast of the gloomy environment of the RPD, and reads the note

‘For the licks! Hold tighy in hnd then throw, it loud so they chse! : )’ was written on the note, it was hard to read being a shaky and messy handwriting but he got the general idea, chuckling at the squiggly smily face on it

He opens and sees 4 tiny golden bells

He looks around, hoping to maybe find who put it there but finds nothing, nothing but a hunched over dead (?) zombie next to the desk “Whoever put this here, Thanks, and thanks for probably being the reason for saving my ass a few times”

He leaves and you say to the air “no.. problemmm..!”

You start following him around and so he eventually notices you, and nearly shoots you on the spot before you move your hand to ring the golden bell you kept and attached to a string as a necklace

He relaxes a bit but keeps his guard up until he realizes that you’re just an innocent smart (questionable) zombie!

Bonus:

Before realizing that you weren’t gonna hurt him, he really thought you were because you kept staring up at his head… In reality you just really wanted to pet his hair, but because words are hard when you’re a zombie and you didn’t wanna get shot you just didn’t say anything

(You eventually did get to touch his hair, muttering a “soooft.. so.. soooft!”)

In that helicopter cutscene when Nicholai is about to shoot Jill, you jump from nowhere and tackle the guy by the neck; Carlos shouts in exclamation “Hell yeah! Get him!” before Nicholai punches your jaw right off (ouch)

Ethan Winters (RE7)

In this case you’re kinda like Ethan if he didn’t get all his memory and body transferred (does.. does that make sense???)

Since the moment Ethan stepped into the Baker House, you’ve been watching him

While you can’t remember most of your past, you know you were human like him, and watching him brings you a sense of… comfort. So you watch as he explores the house, trying to find Mia

Sometimes you forget what you’re doing and make noise, making Ethan more paranoid as he goes through the house (you felt bad every time you accidentally spooked him)

Watching him getting attacked by Mia was a nightmare, and you felt like you shouldn’t intervene… until Mia stabbed him in the hand

You emerged from the shadows (and mold..) and pulled her off of Ethan, giving a soft growl at her before she tried to attack you. You sidestepped and pushed her into the wall, which caused her to knock her head against the wall and faint

You stared down at her before turning to Ethan, who was a bit put off by your appearance

“You’re… hurt. Follow.” and you start walking to where a first aid liquid was hidden away and hand it to him

After patching him up you go over to the boarded up door and started to remove the wood with ease, before Mia got back up and threw Ethan through the nearly open door. You yelp (with some scratchiness) at that before running up to try and help, but then Ethan swung an axe into her neck.

You look at him and see the horror in his eyes at what he’s just done, you reach out to touch his back before slightly withdrawing; “you… oo-kay?” You asked in a low voice, and he shook his head before standing up and making his way deeper into the house, fully ignoring you after that.

So you follow, wanting to make sure he’s okay. He’s the only thing human in this house (for now)

Then Mia comes back again, of course, stabbing Ethan in the hand with a screwdriver this time. You run up and start trying to pry it out of the wall and his hand, before you see Mia coming with a chainsaw. She slashes with the chainsaw, cutting you in half at the shoulder before hitting Ethan’s wrist.

You blackout for awhile, coming to after about an hour as your body of mold stitches itself back together into one solid form again

Submerging into the mold, you reform in the living room adjacent to the nightmare dining room, seeing the back of Ethan tied in one of the chairs

You carefully untie him from the chair, before being noticed Marguerite pulled you up by the hair unto the table

You reach into a clump of mold and pull a smoke bomb before pulling Ethan out of the chair and away

From there on you helped him the best you could

Bonus:

You alway try and take the hits for him, he’s still fleshy and human, you can take it! He’s still worried for you despite the fact you can patch yourself back together.

When Ethan dies and becomes mold, you feel bad for him. You don’t tell him, since if he thinks he’s still human, then he’s still human to you.

After the BSAA comes you don’t know what to do, you assume you’re going to be left there or be experimented on… but Ethan calls your name (that you told him at some point, it’s one of the only things you have left from before being molded) and gestures you to come with him, you come close before fearfully looking at Chris, but he just nods and lets you on the helicopter.

OKAY WOW this is… something. I don’t know. I kinda gave up in that last one despite Ethan being my favorite next to Leon. I really hope, that this is good, im some way, amd i hope i didnt totally screw the canon, ahhh. Hope people like thissss,,, would’ve done art but i’ve got art block

Hello!! Can I request about monster task force 141 + könig & horangi, if thats alright for you!

Where reader is a pyramid head instead and I like to see their reaction reader having a pyramid head c:

EXCUSE ME!? ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME WITH THIS ASK?!???!? Cuz if you are, sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I am still breathing! I might be kneeling for this concept, but I am still breathing.

Pyramid Head!reader

Headcanon

Pairing: Monster 141 + König + Horangi x male?reader

Cw: blood, gore, canon-typical violence, gun violence, betrayal, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 2k

You looked like you came right out of a horror game, a tall, muscular figure hidden under black and dark brown fatigues, thick thighs supporting the big, rusted pyramid that hung from your head and stocky arms that could bend a man in half as easily as it was to rip paper in two. Despite being slow and stumbling around, you were an entity to bring on high-stakes missions, letting you break through their defences with a heavy hand and even heavier attacks, crashing through walls and stalking the walls for your next victim.

They were all shocked when Price talked them into accepting you,  gathering them into the debrief room with your file, or your lack of one. It wasn’t easy, having you permanently transferred to their Task Force when you were so sought out by other teams for help as a long-standing mercenary and an entity. So Price was overjoyed that  Laswell had managed to get you to themselves, waiting for you at the tarmac on the day you were to land. 

Mixed feelings were being shared between his team when they watched you amble down the slope, head hung lowly, the tip inches from the ground. You were intimidating in person, seeming much bigger than life, finally being able to see you rather than hear of you, the haunting reputation that followed you around like a shadow. You weren’t a Ghost, someone reputed for having no living record and past, or his intimidating presence; nor were you a scary mercenary from KorTac, dangerous and imposing. You weren’t an efficient and fast-moving unit like the 141, you were just a one-man army powerful enough to rip a man in two and wield that heavy Greatsword, and despite it being a bit old-fashioned, you used better than man could use a rifle. 

Price, as first mentioned, was glad his hard work came to fruition, having someone like you on his side when it mattered was amazing. He might’ve been slightly worried about his boys reacting negatively towards you, Ghost, especially with his volatile hate and distrust of strangers. Only to be reassured when he saw how, unlike the way you carried yourself on the field, you were a gentle soul, a silent one but caring nonetheless. He watched you take care of his boys, wandering behind Gaz or Rudy when they returned injured, a looming figure that cast a protective shadow over them. You were like a pillar, solid and dependable, going out of your way to get anyone that strayed behind, turning your head at a slight angle to stop a bullet from hitting the one you were protecting, and caring for them. He may not be able to hear you speak a word, to be able to hold a conversation and listen to you tell them how much you cared about him and the others, but he knew you loved - he knew you were able to love. 

Ghost was distrustful of you, one with a shadow as big as yours or someone he’d worked alongside before. He kept you at an arm’s length, never too close to him so he could protect himself from another betrayal, the hurt and the sadness that came along with being betrayed by someone he trusted, and never too far so that he could watch you, analyse every thought or act you made, to stop you from hurting them before you could. He’s seen you in the field and worked on the same side, he knew that every little detail about you on the reports was true, not illusions and delusions, but factual events that happened with you beside them. He won’t lie, you were an asset - he hated using that word on any hybrid, monster or entity, but it was the truth - that people vied for and they were just lucky that you had their back and they had your undying loyalty. Your occasional sparring with him, Price and König only reinforced your care for them, holding back until he barked at you to fully come at him, you’d hesitate, but never for long. You cared for him as he cared for the others, he could see it, and now, his care was extended to you as well.

Soap was like an excited puppy meeting a new friend, past the intimidating facade and the trailing shadow behind you, you were nice. You reminded him of Ghost and König, the tall, imposing and silent figure, but unlike them, you only replied in grunts and groans, your body language being the biggest way for them to understand you. You were patient with him, bearing with his overenthusiastic tail that kept tapping your thigh and arm whenever or his rambling, your large pyramid nodding slowly, humming when you agreed with him and grunting when you disagreed. You were fun to be around, when he, Rudy and Gaz went around, bringing you along with him to play a little game, you wouldn’t snitch and you wouldn’t say a word, only shaking your head when Price or Ghost asked if they were behind it (the Captain and Lieutenant went along, seeing as they could enjoy themselves after a hard and stressful mission). He could be as shamelessly chaotic as he wanted with you, he didn’t have to entertain the egos of others or maintain a certain level of dignity, he could be himself like he could with the others. He didn’t feel like a burden beside your lengthy shadow, he felt like he was protected, and safe, but most importantly, he felt loved.

Gaz was tentative, not overly enthusiastic as Soap nor as suspicious as Ghost, he was a good mix of them both, guarded but welcoming. He didn’t mind sitting next to you and being the one to start the conversation since you always replied in hums and groans, hands moving to form the words that you couldn’t form under the pyramid. He only truly became comfortable when you went to the trouble of going back for him, stomping through the group that surrounded him when he crashed down, watching you rip the enemy apart with your swinging Greatsword that was too heavy for anyone to lift was breathtaking. Despite witnessing a scene right out of a slasher movie, his teammate in a rusted, pyramid head soaked in blood and guts, you gave him a hand and took his hand with the gentlest squeeze he ever felt. Then the little stunt you helped cover when he, Soap and Rudy were caught doing a prank on one of their leading commanders. He could depend on you, practising sign language to better understand you and simply wanting to hold the hands that saved him.

Alejandro, as usual, was easy to get along with, his charismatic and warm mannerism was easier to open up to. He might’ve been betrayed and lied to many times, but he knew a liar when he saw one after the whole Shepherd fiasco, so he knew you meant well (not that he could see your face for any indications). Unlike others of his rank, he preferred the respect given through comradery over respect through rank, he kept close to the people he worked with in the long run, forming bonds to cherish like he did with the Los Vaqueros and the men of 141. Withholding the same idea, he worked his way through your file and approached you with someone who’d won his respect and admiration from the black Ops you participated in and the people you bled to save. It was a quality he liked about you. While still being professional, he held you, he encouraged you, he embraced you just the way you were, and you reciprocated it without a second thought. 

Rudy had his reservations about you, something strong, something big, something powerful, something caring, but never something deadly, dangerous or selfish. From what Alejandro told him, he couldn’t bring himself to be doubtful of your loyalty and devotion, and from what he’s seen on the field, you weren’t deserving of the reputation of a bloodthirsty monster that followed you as it did Ghost and König. You had something that made you stand out, maybe it was the contrast in your character when you looked so menacing: your softness, the gentle edge in your actions, the comforting quality in your muted response, and your active protection on and off the field. He appreciated the way you brought more to the Task Force, another pillar of stability, another ear to rant to, another person to hold, or another friend to laugh with. Even the little pranks he’d join in on, getting his commanding officers red with rage and breathless from laughing and leaving you to cover for them, your hands speaking the words you couldn’t mutter outside of simple sounds. He often ended up in the same predicament when he couldn’t stop himself, cheeks rosy and warm, heart beating fast, fingers fumbling with each other and words coming out in breathless puffs, he knew what he felt and he wasn’t so bothered by it.

Horangi wasn’t sure what to make of you, you weren’t quite human, nor were you a monster, you were a mix of both, a creation of human and monster grief and pain. Little was known about entities and Eldritch beings, and being a feline monster made him naturally curious, or slightly curious. He observed you, watching you from afar without actually interacting with you, slinking around you, golden eyes narrowing at you like a tiger in a hunt. He didn’t dare approach you until he got to know your small cues, the danger you could pose - if you could pose any from what he saw, too gentle for the creature you were - to him or the others. He only stepped forward to talk to you when König made him, feel skittish and slightly awkward for feeling like such a stranger towards someone who took multiple bullets for him when he was down. He held his head high and voice stable while he pushed through his awkwardness, listening to your soft hums and low grunts in reply to his words, he was surprised to see König so engaged in this conversation when he had an aversion towards new people. Honestly, he was just surprised that König talked so much about you. If there was anything good, he would be the first to hear about it from König. He came to know you through König and the time you spent together on missions, hostage rescue and noisy infiltrations. Your small ticks, your little quirks and your verbal handicap were all things he came to learn and like, nearly making it his duty to watch you from the side as you stumble through the halls with your back hunched over from the weight of your pyramid.

König didn’t try approaching you until he absolutely had to, or if he needed you. Be it to give you an order, to ask you something, or during Ops, it would only be a few words here and there, never something long-drawn as he had with the other men or Laswell. It was only after being sent on a quick and easy task that he let you in, letting you calm him down after his unpredictable shift and grounding him, taking back control of his erratic mind after a rough shift of mindset, from a primal and instinctual one to a rational and panicked one. Your rough calluses felt soft against his hard, scarred skin, the soothing circle of your thumb on his palm and the grip to keep him aware of his situation, to keep him grounded on his reality after the carnage he created. Despite not being able to talk, you spoke loudly through your verbal cues, your hand on your shoulder and another one in his hand, listening to him ramble away about his fears and anxieties. You would sit down with him and lend an ear to him when he came to you, even after his first interactions with you. He wondered if you had similar fears, those demoralising words that echoed in his mind on the worst days or the painful reminder of his mistakes. If you did, would you let him ease you down from your pain and care for you with his smaller hands?

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973

Ok imagine this.... force 141 meeting price twin sibling reader that's a retired captain but here's the twist they think reader is an imposter when in reality their just here to visit price and take him to his favorite restaurant for his break...

This is so old I’m sorry :,)

Protective 141 my beloved

“Leaving, on a jet plane..

Don’t know when I’ll be back again..”

Your soft voice cut through the music, singing along as your tires dug across the dirt road leading to the base entrance.

Your keychain swayed gently from the rear view mirror, a tiny toy soldier John had slipped into the pocket of your slacks the day you were promoted to Captain.

As much as you were at peace with retiring from your position, those small pieces of your career never seemed to disappear.

The security personnel were all smiles seeing your truck pull in, joking and teasing as they’d done for so many years. While your car was taken care of, you were lead to your brother’s office before being left to greet him. You listened through the door, only hearing the tapping of his keyboard.

BANG, BANG, BANG.

You grinned like a child when you heard a low curse and angry footsteps. The door flew open.

“You are a pest.”

“Good to see you!” You beam.

“Mhm.” He grumbled, though he guided your shoulders inside carefully.

It had been strange since you left, but just being in his office was reassuring. He told you what he could now that you weren’t in on classified info, and you told him nearly everything. The nightmares, the daydreams, the panic attacks, disassociation.

Talking to him always reminded you that even though you ached to be back in uniform, leaving was for the best.

You displaced his office decorations and spoke with him for a few hours before he hugged you goodbye tightly, reminding you that this was still a version of home, and he was here.

“Always here.” He said.

You closed his door gently, hesitating a moment to run your thumb down the groove of the door seam in thought.

“You lost?”

The voice nearly made you jump, though your years in service didn’t let you show it as you turned to see a young man in uniform, scanning you with a furrowed brow.

“Do you need assistance?” He repeated, adjusting his cap.

You blink in realization. “Oh, I’m-"

“This is a restricted area, mate.” Another voice joined the first, accompanied by an intimidating figure that had appeared from behind a corner. Not an inch of him was uncovered apart from his eyes, his build and layers making him look even more threatening. He seemed to puff up like an angry cat; amusing to your trained eye.

“John is my brother, I worked here with him before your task force transferred here.” You replied smoothly.

“Price doesn’t have siblings.” The masked soldier spoke lowly.

You smiled despite yourself. “Well, that’s news to me..”

“Need some directions?”

Another?

Your patience thinned.

“Look. I served here, he’s my brother. If you open this door, he’ll tell you.”

The first soldier eyed you suspiciously.

“Forgive me for not taking your word for it, uh..?”

“Price.” You deadpan. “My last name is Price.”

The capped soldier hummed, seemingly still off-put.

You sighed, exasperated. “Please open the door.”

“Yeah, alright.” The masked man starts toward you, and you fight the urge to skillfully escape his hold when he guides you by the shoulder back into the office.

“I hope you’re not lying..” The Scottish soldier from before murmured as you passed, and John lifted his head from his work.

“Claims to be your-”

“For Christ’s sake, release your death grip from my sibling!”

His exasperated tone makes you smile as the three soldiers flank you. The hand on your shoulder leaves along with a tense apology that only deepens your amusement.

“If I wasn’t, I think they did a pretty good job interrogating me.” You say lightly.

“I’m so sorry.. what’s with you lot, aye?”

He shut down the protesting of the capped and Scottish soldier with a raised hand, sighing as he brought you to face them.

“Should have thought to introduce you..”

Capped soldier was Gaz, Scot was Soap, mask was Ghost. Their apologetic shuffling of their weight made you comfortable already.

“It’s nice that you’re so..protective.”

You hoped they sensed your amusement and didn’t really think you were rattled. It would have taken a lot more than a strong arm to trip you up.

“They’re idiots.” John corrected, sitting back down.

“You served?” Ghost murmured.

“I did. I retired a few months ago.”

“You’re.. Price’s age?” Gaz’s tone was disbelieving.

“Oi.” John glowered.

“You can’t say that..” Soap nudged Gaz harshly.

“The exact same actually. Well..” You glance at John. “I am three minutes older..”

“And yet you’re the child.” John bit back.

“Why’d you never tell us you have a twin sister?” Soap gestured to you.

“Not your business?” John replied.

“Aye..” Soap rolled his eyes.

“You three should come with us for dinner.” You suggested.

John’s ‘No’ was overshadowed by the resounding enthusiasm of his task force.

“You’re supposed to be on my team.” John grumbled.

“I’m retired, John, I work alone.”

He glared at Gaz’s quiet laugh.

“7:00. We’ll be at that little run-down near the bar.”

“You’re taking them there? I thought you were family.” Ghost shifted his weight.

“Good chips.” You and John both defended the restaurant of choice at the same time.

“Oh, they’re twins for real..” Gaz murmured. “Creepy.”

“See you tonight.” You gently shoved John’s head before excusing yourself.

“See you!”

“Bye!”

“Cheers..”

When you had left the building, the three turned back to John. Soap didn’t get a chance to open his mouth before John rumbled a warning.

“If you so much as think about it, I will tear you apart.”

Here's another leon x zombie reader blurb lol kinda set in the same universe as a helping hand but luke a alternate scenario/ending

He was staring at you with such an intense gaze that could have burned holes into your skin. In a weird way, Leon was kind of upset that you couldn't see him through the glass, but the reflective glass was helping to keep your focus on the items in the room.

Research purposes, they had said. Leon didn't really give a shit. Hunnigan was standing next to him with a curious expression as she watched you as well, intrigued by the way you slowly played with the sensory toys in the room.

"I still don't know if this is real or not."

Leon hummed, saying as you swayed, holding a windmill toy and trying to make the wheel spin despite the fact that you weren't breathing and couldn't actually blow air.

"Now you know how I felt when she killed the other zombie and gave me the reese's."

Hunnigan shook her head, saying.

"With the information you provided us, the DSO is working together with a group of trusted scientists to figure out how (Y/n) is responding to the virus and what's causing her partial immunity, as well as if she can possibly be cured. This is the first case we've ever experienced of a 'friendly intelligent zombie', as you put it."

Leon hummed, watching as you began to pet one of the plants in the room. It was another green herb that Leon had kept in his office, and you had been surprisingly ecstatic about receiving the plant from him.

You made a chirping noise again, shuffling to the door before placing your hand upon the handle. However, due to the fact your body was dead and your muscle function didn't work so well, you weren't able to get a firm-enough grip to actually turn the handle.

"Is it necessary to keep her in there? She doesn't seem to have an interest in eating people."

"The DSO doesn't want to take any chances."

Leon hummed before stating, walking out of the observation room.

"Unlock the door, would you? I'm gonna go in there."

Hunnigan nodded, unlocking the door and allowing Leon inside. When you noticed his presence, you chirped at him, raising your thumb up before shuffling to the table and picking up the fidget toy. Leon greeted you, sitting down at the table in the middle of the room.

"Hey, (Y/n). Looks like the DSO gave you some cool stuff to keep you occupied."

Slowly, you shuffled over to him, handing him the fidget spinner, and Leon took it gingerly before setting it down. One by one, you picked up the toys and set them in front of him, and Leon raised a brow.

"Are you giving these to me?"

You didn't reply. To Leon, it seemed you didn't even hear him as you picked up a teddy bear, gently petting it the best you could. Leon blinked before he asked.

"Is that one your favorite?"

You glanced at him slowly before holding a thumbs up, and Leon couldn't help but chuckle. You then shuffled to the door, keeping a firm hold on the bear as your hand went to the handle, trying to open it, and Leon shook his head.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but you can't go out there."

You turned and chirped, and Leon sighed.

"I know, it sucks, but you can't."

Another chirp, and for some reason, Leon felt terrible when you gave him a thumbs down for the first time.

"Look, I can ask for permission, but a lot of people won't want to be your friend."

You then shuffled to him, gingerly holding the bear before you chirped at him, patting his head. In a weird way, Leon understood what you were trying to convey.

He was your friend and that was okay.

"...maybe I can introduce you to my friend, Hunnigan. She's in the next room. Would you like that?"

Silently, you swayed for a moment before shuffling to the door and chirping again. Leon stood and grabbed your cold hand, watching the way your eyes widened and looked at your conjoined hands.

"Come on. I'm sure one little trip won't hurt."

hi i love your work so much omg

…what do you think of the scenario of monster!141 x (platonic, if you want, it’s probably for the better) reader that’s made up of thousands of worms/spiders/or whatever creatures. reader is always covered up in clothes that cover up the entire ‘skin’ and they speak extremely weirdly/like everything’s speaking all at once and the voice is just sounding from the mouth but also in the torso? and legs? . the thing is that reader is shy or something and doesn’t want to admit that they’re just a hive mind of creatures, but it’s just kinda obvious not really (well obvious to monster 141). 141 doesn’t really want to comment on it because they’re just nice like that and find ways to help Reader get through some situations lmao (help i’m sleep deprived and i made this thought in 3 AM ish).

i give you a piece of 🧀

Many

Pairing: Platonic Monster 141 + König & Horangi x monster!reader

Cw: spiders, blood, military inaccuracies, canon-typical violence, cannibalism? Eating human, hive mind monster, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 2.9k (A/N): I’m gonna be honest with y’a, I went on a spree and completely forgot what you first asked for but uh… I used some of your ideas and I hope it’s apparent enough?

For someone as decorated as you were, you were awfully timid, shying from human and hybrid interaction like a plague. Perhaps it was unintentional, the stiffness in your shoulders or the constant coverage, but to the world around you, you were nothing but an awkward person whose social cues were lost to time after more than a decade in the force. Starting your days covered head to toe, black over more black, or khaki and brown over more khaki and brown depending on the situation of your stay and deployment. 

Despite your social anxiety, your voice stayed strong and unwavering in the field, a cold, monotone voice that would coordinate the team if needed —you were a prolific intelligence specialist, that found your calling in intelligence gathering from the deepest and darkest pits, and an infiltration specialist that was sought out for your proficiency and successful operations worldwide, especially the undercover Ops done in secrecy. You’ve led a few clandestine Ops with Laswell for 141, the Station Chief letting you lead and direct them, trusting your insights and they always resulted in successful missions, coming back bruised and battered but alive and securing the cargo (or whatever they were sent there for). 

That meant that they knew you, your voice, your confident tone when you directed them, your unwavering decisions and your helpful guidance, but they hadn’t seen you until a few months ago. You were officially assigned to Task Force 141 as their Intelligence and Infiltration specialist, working on and off. This would be the first time you actively moved to the front, standing beside them during infiltrations, slipping into the enemy base with efficiency and silence. You moved as if you were a part of the shadows, melting into the darkness and disappearing from any camera and scans, your body invincible to infrared cameras or heat sensors. 

You moved with fluid motions, your body incredibly - scarily - flexible and seemingly aware of everything around you. To humans, you were probably the most skillful and abnormal human, born with talents that far rivalled those of hybrids, and a saviour to some for being able to keep them alive even through the hardest moments of their capture; but to monsters, to hybrids, you were special, a different type of creature that held a different category in the classes, one that humans knew little outside of the government and military. 

Whereas humans saw you as a stiff and socially awkward human that covered their whole body, TF141 knew better, they could sense it a mile away, the difference in you, the odd aura and smell you projected. Soap and König had mentioned it in the past, in the bustling Mess hall where they shared a table, Soap had noted that you smelled off, of something dead yet alive and König only brought the oddness of you holding thousands of different scents, musks that didn’t originate from one place, but from around the world. 

Gaz and Horangi gave off-handed comments about sudden movement under your clothes, a slight - near invisible - ripple under your neck or on your arm, their eyes zoning to the smallest of movements. Gaz brought it up first, his voice hesitant and confused, frowning down at his plate when he mentioned it to the others, only to feel reassured that he wasn’t imagining it, the small ripple that no one else perceived, when Horangi shared his own observations. Horangi had seen small black spots moving over your shirt and under the tight mask hiding your face, tiny-legged creatures climbing over you and vanishing under your clothes as if they were never there. 

Rudy was the best at understanding people, sympathising with both monsters and humans, but you just seemed lost, a shy creature that always hid from others when you weren’t needed. He and Alejandro remembered when they spoke to you after an Op, catching up to you before you fled to hide in your room, your tone was soft and shy, but it seemed to come from everywhere, never staying in one place as if there wasn’t a source to your voice. One moment your voice would come from your face, and then the next, it’d be down your abdomen, every word you spoke came out of a different area, but your chin never moved, face still and unmoving. 

They brought it up to Ghost, who’d sit with them at their table, pushed against the wall for privacy around human soldiers, since he - leaving out Price - knew you best, having worked with you a few times in the past where they needed your expertise in infiltration and hostage securing. They had hoped that Ghost could give them a few insights on you, whether it be about your kind or your uniqueness, they wanted something - anything - to quell their growing curiosity. Not only was Ghost one of their only sources of information, but he was also a paranoid one, always demanding an operator's file before and after they joined, his mind going through loops to calculate the danger of the new addition. Ghost was a guarded and walled-up character, ensuring that they wouldn’t betray him in the long run.

Unfortunately, Ghost knew as little as they did, Price was stricter with your information, keeping it under a hard lock and key. Only he and Laswell held information about you, your little quirks and details were a secret to anyone who wasn’t in the higher-ranked stations or the commanding rank and station chief. They had nothing to go on but theories, little hypothesis until Price or Laswell - whichever caved first to their incessant pleading - disclosed your personal file. So they did what they could with their observations, combining up with different monsters they’ve crossed paths with. You could’ve been one of those crossbred hybrids where they coupled for specific perks, or an experiment, seeing that you had an aversion to physical touch and human interactions. The least possible one, by far, was that you were an Eldritch being, a creature of horror and madness. 

“Classified for now, sergeant,” was all Price had told Soap when he cracked, his puppy-like excitement getting the best of him. “You’ll have to ask them, yeah?”

That left them with little to no choice but to watch you more closely, to observe their surroundings for any clues and to note anything bizarre since they couldn’t necessarily outright ask you. You fled seconds after anyone tried to start a conversation, head down and feet moving too swiftly to not seem like you were avoiding them or any long discussion as if you knew what they were planning. You seemed to have eyes at the back of your head, reacting instantly when one of them would follow you wherever you went, slinking from one shadow to the other, trying their best to hide from your sight and sense, but you were an expert in your own right, knowing and aware of undercover tactics when one was used against you.

Fortunately for them, other clues helped, subtle signs that most people wouldn’t even catch. The first one was small, jerky spiders that weren’t local to the UK or any continent, they weren’t like any arachnid they’d ever found, that was the first thing they noticed when they came across one, but the true challenge was to catch one of those pesky things. They were quick and small, evading them as if they had a mind of their own, their bites painful if one of them tried to grab it with a hand, the tiny fangs piercing through the thick material of their gloves, but once Soap got his paws on one, he made sure to keep it in the glass container. The spider was small, its exoskeleton so dark that it seemed to swallow any light rather than reflect it, a shade of black so black that it didn’t let any colours out. It didn’t look hairy, the shell so smooth and spotless that it seemed like two circles if they ignored the scrawny legs. 

Those spiders were almost everywhere, yet they went unnoticed by the people walking around the base and them until now. Other than the spiders, your aversion to physical contact and socialising, and favouring your privacy much more than anyone on the TF. You didn’t eat with them —you never seemed to eat at all. Your voice moved so often that the possibility of you having many mouths came to mind a lot. Your body was extremely nimble, bending in odd - sometimes painful for others - ways. Over other observations, everything they took notice of you were things that were inhuman, it made you a minority in the military - much like them - and a mystery to your team. 

They went on for months, unbothered that they might have seemed slightly obsessive, a stalker following his obsession. They weren’t worried about others calling them out, humans would chalk it up to monster stuff with a sneer and look the other way when Ghost or König glared at them. That didn’t escape you, Price or even Laswell’s eyes and ears around the world. 

“You boys don’t know when to stop, hmm?” Price wore a frown, brows cocked questioningly. His tone was one of a tired and relenting to their months-long search. “You’re lucky they weren’t mad about this.”

“So you’ll tell us, boss?” Ghost hid his excitement better than the rest, his chest rumbling lowly and eyes narrowed darkly, but not with a dangerous gleam. 

“Better if you see it yourself,” he sighed, crossing his arms, hunching against his chair, lip quirking at a corner. It was a cheeky lopsided smile, teasing them with having to wait longer. “It’s hard to explain in words. It’s quite the sight.”

And a sight it was! Watching you melt to the ground, your body scattering in thousands of small spiders that moved towards the body lying before you. You’d been paired with Ghost and Soap for this Op, leading them down a path you knew didn’t have any hostiles, getting intel back from the many spiders scattered around the area. They were the first to watch you eat, arachnids swallowing up the bodies, devouring them at record speed. You ate flesh and bones, ligaments and tendons melted by your acidic bite that only left clothes behind as an indication that someone died here. They were the lucky ones to see you eat, to bear witness to your monstrosity in the flesh and your moment of weakness where you had to sustain yourself, shedding off the shape of a human body.

It left Soap filled with awe, seeing you break away in thousands of individual bodies and come back together as one, and Ghost’s mind strewed with questions, some answered when you told them that you were self-conscious, a hive mind made up of spiders to form a body. You weren’t hiding away because you were afraid of them or that you hated socialising, you were simply too self-aware of your making, of the natural fear of eight-legged creatures. So you hid, shying away from people, thinking that they’d hate you for being what you were, a colony of undocumented spiders working as one. 

Horangi, Rudy and Alejandro caught you in action on the second covert operation when you were given the signal to lead your small squad into enemy lines. They watched the clothes you wore ripple, little critters bulging out from under your protective gear and rolling down your body in waves, black masses dropping off and separating. You were spread around the place, everyone acting as an extension of your mind and body, and they were —thousands of spiders sharing one mind. You shrank lightly, your body mass lower than it was with your body spanned across the area, working as your eyes and ears from afar like cameras worked for Laswell, except that your reach was farther and more potent. 

It was expected, but not less surprising to the three, watching your body shorten and little spiders crawl all over you. It would’ve made the hardiest monster shudder in fear or repulsion, feeling hundreds of legs moving about over their body, it would’ve made them slightly apprehensive, knowing from Soap and Ghost that your bite could be acidic, melting tough muscle and robust bone. It made more sense as to why you were so nimble and so observant, you had parts of yourself scattered around, working to map out everything and see everything. You were what made you so sought after for your skills in clandestine missions and covert infiltrations, it was scarily inspiring.

Gaz and König were the unlucky ones, being in the wrong place at the wrong time to see you “die”. With how unlucky his streak with helicopters was, it wasn’t a surprise that he was falling from another one, his wing bleeding from a bullet wound, the copper piercing through the meat and grazing the bone. It had him handicapped for the next few missions, staying on base until it healed completely unless he wanted to cause a bigger issue with his third pair of limbs. You were medevaced, watching Gaz grunt and groan, holding his wounded wing against his chest with a face screwed in pain. He’d been in an unfortunate situation, being purposely targeted by the enemy, and the situation couldn’t get any worse. 

The helicopter was shot down, and the flares deployed too late to stop the missile. It was a fiery mess, there was screaming and the loud crack of metal breaking, you could hear Laswell yell out in the coms, her worried and frantic voice trying to reach you and Gaz in the falling blaze. Most harpies feared fire, the flames burning their feathers and scarring the skin, making it impossible to regrow feathers on some rare occurrences. Gaz couldn’t remember much after the fall, waking up in pitch darkness, his skin crawling with shivers and invisible hands. He couldn’t make out left from right, he didn’t know if he was lying face down or on his back, and he wasn’t even sure he was conscious, seeing that all he could see was black. Then he felt sudden movement, a prickly sensation covering his body until light broke through.

He could feel his arms and his legs, he could stretch his wing out when he sat up, he wasn’t burned or hurt more than what he had before the crash, but he couldn’t see you when he looked around. He palmed the ground, feeling around the rough floor for you, your small, black spiders. You were on and around him, slowly climbing off him and flocking to a large mass. Your clothes were gone, burned to ashes in the mess while you shielded him, taking the brunt of the heat and burns. He swallowed down the quake that wracked his body and rushed to you, frantic to see whether or not you were in pain. Rather than forming back into a human, your appearance resembles more of a large mammal on four, clawed legs. Seeing that you were fine - or so he thought - he called back for evac, getting cover with your prone figure guarding him until the other helicopter and support came back.

König’s accident was more vicious than Gaz’s, losing control of his urges, letting himself shift and rampage through the area, ripping apart both enemy and ally. You were another body in his path, his claws tearing through your chest with sharp, bloodied hands. The others panicked, watching you scatter into pieces, falling apart from the seams as if someone had pulled out the only string that held you together. Instead of blood and guts, intestines that should’ve called out in a bloody mess, you broke apart, some fell to the ground, crushed under König’s weight, and others clung to him, swarming to stop him before he caused more chaos. 

It looked like a futile attempt from outside viewpoints, watching the beast stumble blindly, his face covered, your thousand pairs of legs locked to keep his mouth closed from causing more harm to others with his serrated teeth made to gnaw through bone and break flesh and muscle to consume and feed his big appetite. They could only stare at König trash around, limbs slowly being locked together, bounding his arms from flailing and slashing at people and his leg from blindly ambling and rushing towards his next victim. You rippled around König, a mass becoming a full-body restraint containing the hybrid’s grunts and growls, unmoving and unrelenting against him. 

You kept König’s rampage in check, keeping him contained while they moved both you and him to the aircraft and back to base where they could wait out the shift, the burst of rage in the hybrid. Gaz had thrown you a bundle of clothes after König fell asleep, you slipped off and crawled to your clothes, reappearing in a human shape under all your protective layers. Although they knew you could take extensive damage and survive unscathed, they still worried, would your strength still held together with a chaotic mix of human resilience and percht invulnerability.

You seemed to have let yourself go a bit, letting Soap or Gaz drag you around the base, letting Rudy and Alejandro strike up a conversation, letting Ghost or König sit with you in silence, and letting Horangi get the jump on you and follow you soundlessly because he was curious (and answering his questions). You might not eat with them, but you swallowed down your fright and agreed to sit at their table while they ate, digging into their preferred meal and occasionally replying to their friendly banter. You were still nervous about spending so much time in public, the looming fear of being faced with disgust from your allies was still possible, but you - with the supporting pat on the shoulder from Price - worked through your storming thoughts and insecurities. 

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