NexyHexy



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    “Mayday mayday mayday, this is Ship 268454, CCS Clara, does anyone copy?”

     

     

     

     

     

     

    After an accident that he isn’t even sure how occurred, Junior Crewmember Tommy Innit is stuck out in the dead zone of space with a dead crew and on a damaged ship. No nearby inhabited planets. No nearby stations. Nothing.

    He’s billions of kilometers away from any hope of rescue, and has to figure out a way to safety. Not only that, for the first time in his life, he’s completely alone.

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    06 May 2024

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    "Oh, yeah," Tommy says, pulling another tupperware out of his backpack. He locks eyes with Wilbur, ocean blue meeting chocolate brown. "Dad told me to give some to you, too, since he made so much extra."

    Wilbur raises an eyebrow. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Techno sit up straighter. "Never known a therapist to give their clients food." When Tommy pouts, he shrugs. "But, hey, I'm not going to pass up on free lunch. What did he make?"

    "Meat," Tommy says simply, he and Techno both watching as Wilbur stabs a piece of sausage onto his fork and raises it to his mouth.

    ---

    Wilbur Soot was born with the ability to put himself into the mind of any criminal, from a pickpocket to a serial killer. It's this gift (or curse) that's made him the best criminal profiler the FBI's ever had. When he decides to start working on the case of the infamous serial killer "Angel of Death," though, things take a turn for the worse, and Wilbur starts to get lost in his own delusions.

    Luckily, he manages to find refuge in the arms of his eccentric therapist and his two sons, a rich family with a fondness for extravagant dinner parties and delicious meat dishes.

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    18 Feb 2024

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    Tommy has killed 36 people.

    The weapon in Tommy’s hands does not shake. It is steady, almost impossibly so, and Tommy will not miss his target. This is a fact that he knows. He knows the sun will rise, he knows the tide will leave, he knows he will hit his shot; Tommy is incapable of missing. He is perfect. It's his job to be perfect, and without this job, Tommy is nothing, so his hands are steady. He remembers the names of all 36 people. Not because he feels remorse or guilt, in all honesty, Tommy doesn't think he can feel. He remembers because no one else will. No one but him.

    James Richard. This is a name Tommy will never forget, because, at the very least, he can remember him. At the very least he can remember his name.

    He pulls the trigger.

    37. Tommy has killed 37 people.

    Or

    Tommy is a trained mercenary who hasn't heard anything other than Dream's voice for the past seventeen years of his life.

    Wilbur is worried.

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    06 Feb 2024

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    Dream, Tommy decided, was a dickhead— and Tommy didn't listen to dickheads anymore. Not after Wilbur and his promises of grandeur, not after Schlatt and his stupid fucking decree, and especially not after Technoblade and his egotistical stories.

    So instead of jumping off his tower and watching his brains go splat on the ground by Logstedshire, Tommy let himself fall into the water.

    Or,
    Tommy runs away during exile and finds a place and people to help him heal. Set over a span of four years.

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    24 Jan 2024

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  5. Public Bookmark *

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    “Bullshit. That’s the dumbest thing you could do.”

    “And why would that be?”

    Too many responses to count flashed through Tommy’s mind. This man was going to kill him, there was no denying that. No denying that Tommy had been stupid. That mantra had gotten him through the night, sure, but it wasn’t true, and now he was going to die.

    In the forest, he didn't know what was coming to kill him. Now, though, he knew it would be this man, with his soft cloak and softer eyes, Tommy wasn’t so afraid.

    Might as well encourage him to make it quick.

    “Because I know where you live, you rebel fuck,” he spat. “I know exactly where we are.”
    ///
    Or, the SBI coven adopts a foul-mouthed child soldier with trust issues.

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    19 Jan 2024

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