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. 𖦹˙— his sexuality

I don't think 035 has such a clear and linear preference when it comes to partner gender. I'd say he's a huge fan of women in all their forms (from the truly feminine to the more tomboyish ones), but that doesn't mean he doesn't find certain men incredibly attractive. I'd say he might be bisexual with a strong preference for women. He's not the type to label himself, though.

. 𖦹˙— vanilla or not?

From my perspective, I think he definitely falls into the BDSM world, without a doubt. Given that he's a sadist, I assume he wouldn't appreciate vanilla sex very much: it's too sappy in the truest sense of the word, too human, perhaps even too healthy for him. 035 seeks control, submission, and the loss of consciousness simply because he's there; softer sex would suggest equality between the partners, which, however, clashes with his mentality. He could (keyword: could), however, give you a break from the usual intense sex, but I think it's unlikely to be a choice driven by actual desire, but more of a sort of manipulation to please you.

. 𖦹˙— his role

Regardless of the appearance, height, or physical size of the guest he's possessing, 035 will always be a Dominant Top. There's a 1% chance he'll become a Submissive Top if you beg like God intended; 035 isn't charitable, but he'll still enjoy seeing how far you're willing to go to get what you want from him. Again, there's a very slim chance he'll agree, and even if he sees you on your knees begging, he might just chuckle mockingly, look at you with pity, and remind you who you're dealing with.

. 𖦹˙— what kind of partner does he prefer?

Since I see him as a Dominant Top, I think a Submissive Bottom or a Submissive Switch would be a good fit. Since we're talking about pain, though not extreme, I think 035 would need a partner who is definitely into pain, and in some cases manipulation and control. They don't need to be completely compatible; monotony bores our Black Lord.

. 𖦹˙— how sadistic is he?

When it's not about sex, he's generally very sadistic. He may prefer mental torture (given his temporary state of containment and the fact that he doesn't always have a guest) to physical torture, but he certainly has no problem using his strength, when he can, for his own ends. When it comes to bed, he may become a little more "kind," but only because you don't notice the manipulation he's exerting on you. He'll ruin you with a sweet yet harsh attitude, knowing you enjoy being treated this way. He'll be accommodating and make you believe for a second that he loves you (he might be, but he won't admit it so easily), making you believe he's not so mean after all. When he's annoyed, angry, or worse, this "kindness" will fade very quickly. Sure, he'll make sure you come and all, but he'll be much crueler, especially if you're the one who upset him so much. He's very unpredictable so he might talk to you or stay completely silent while he watches you cry with pleasure because deep down he knows he feels so damn good.

. 𖦹˙— acarophilia

I think 035 finds it incredibly attractive (and arousing) to be scratched by you during sex. Not only because it somehow stimulates him afterward, but also because he's amused by the fact that a little thing like you can leave such trivial marks on the body he's possessing.

. 𖦹˙— agoraphilia

The fact that he's being contained, held prisoner by the Foundation's scientists creates a strong sense of disobedience in him, both to the rules and the place itself. As soon as he has a host (because trust me, he'll always find one somehow), he won't think twice about claiming you as his during a containment breach, perhaps in the office of a doctor he particularly dislikes just because he can. The adrenaline rush of being caught excites him beyond belief, but I doubt he'd do it in a place where he'd know for sure he'd be caught. He's the only one who can see you like that, and if you don't deserve it, he has no reason to publicly humiliate you.

. 𖦹˙— brat taming

As I've said before, 035 absolutely hates monotony. While he loves submission, that doesn't mean he can't also love putting you in your place. Coming across someone stupid and brave enough to tease him, purposely annoy him, or simply talk back to him really wakes him up. Emphasizing his role in the social pyramid is very important; he's a prisoner now, but he's fully capable of being in control of the situation—in fact, he is most of the time. He's always one step ahead, and the fact that you act like a brat even after you've already gotten to know him… you're practically begging him to show you who's really in charge.

. 𖦹˙— bondage

Mental bondage with him would be CRAZY. Generally speaking, I'd say only when he's really, really annoyed would punish you by actually preventing you from moving, perhaps pinning your wrists so you can't touch him, not even lightly. The rest of the time, he simply gives you orders that you can follow or not. He makes it seem like you have a choice, but depending on your reaction, he won't be satisfied and will find a way to be mean.

. 𖦹˙— breath play

I think he'd love to choke you, or at least deprive you of a small amount of air. He wouldn't say he hates humans because they're so much fun, after all. He's a predator, he's danger disguised as a theatrical mask. How can you give him so much access in such an important area of your body? He could easily strangle you or snap your neck with one hand, and yet here you are, looking at him with those beautiful little eyes shining with tears, begging for more.

. 𖦹˙— collaring

Dude, let's be honest, if he were still in the Alagadda palace, he'd definitely have a collection of collars for you to wear. It's a sign of submission and he doesn't necessarily see it as a purely sexual object. I think 035 is a staunch atheist, so he's not really a marriage guy: the collar would therefore become a sign of your fidelity to him.

. 𖦹˙— dacryphilia

The great Black Lord of Alagadda loves to see you cry, not only because he's the one who triggers this reaction in you, but also because he feels glorified. Crying is a moment people usually tend to hide, precisely because it's so intimate that it makes us vulnerable. He's curious. Not only does he seek devotion from you, but he wants to discover every little corner of your personality. He loves intensity because it's what weak humans like you need to break the cynical composure that characterizes you. When your facade breaks and your eyes light up with excessive pleasure and hot tears begin to roll down your face, he swears he could have come right away if it weren't for the fact that he's not human at all and, compared to you, can and does maintain that mask.

. 𖦹˙— dirty talking

Generally, he's a guy who talks a lot during sex. He'll occasionally chuckle here and there, but that's only because you've done something funny or adorable in his eyes, for the rest of the time he is very serious and careful to capture every expression with his formidable photographic memory. If I may venture a guess, he's the king of dirty talk. He knows the effect his velvety voice and charismatic tone have on you and will abuse it, especially when you're not with him. He also takes advantage of his powers to make you hear his voice in your head, no matter where you are.

. 𖦹˙— pet names

It's not a kink, but I HAD to include this. He's a huge fan of pet names, both during sex (though he'll more often degrade you or tease you in a sappy way) and during normal moments of your relationship (assuming meeting your partner in a holding cell is considered normal). He uses them primarily himself, but he won't back down if you start calling him with an affectionate nickname. He'll laugh about it, though. I see him as someone who ABUSES the nickname 'dollface’, but he'll also use 'pretty’, 'sweetheart’ and ‘my little comedian’ when he's feeling funny.

. 𖦹˙— roleplaying

035 remains, ultimately, a lover of theater, reading, poetry and performances. I can see him creating roleplays, even quite risqué ones (e.g. cnc, somnophilia), but obviously with your consent. He loves when you call him 'sir' or, better yet, 'my lord' in these moments, it reminds him of the good times in Alagadda and, again, emphasizes the roles difference between you and him. If he had the opportunity, he'd love to perform a romantic play with you as the lead, perhaps even going a bit beyond the simple play iykwim.

All you wanted was some kind of excuse to keep from killing yourself.

Of course it was a very drastic, dramatic, and desperate choice and reflection, but you had come to the conclusion that it could be the only thing that could save you from this desperate and corrupt life.

Now you were a Class-D, you had left your pathetic life of hardship behind, you had come to think that maybe this was what you were meant to do.

The water, warm but bordering on cold, ran over your head, then trickled down your neck and down the rest of your body as you curled up against the corner of the shared shower wall. The liquid didn't help you feel any less dirty; it was as if it were dirty itself. In the background of your thoughts was the loud chatter of your "colleagues," a tasteless way of saying it when you could all be lumped together like a pack of animals just waiting to be slaughtered by some strange predator.

Maybe this was more brutal.

You seem to be the only one who understands this simple concept; desperation was now all you'd known for a few years. Christ, you wondered how you'd managed to endure for so long without thinking about it first, perhaps because you were hoping for change, as if it could be positive in the shithole you were now in: the SCP Foundation.

Your nails, chipped and damaged by hard labor and the little care you had, dug into the tender flesh of your biceps, your teeth gritted as you tried not to have another attack right here and now. The Foundation was no place for the weak, and not even among Class-D, most of them were delinquents, murderers, and good-for-nothings who had believed in their luck a little too much until the sheet of ice they had been walking so boldly had finally crumbled under the weight of their mistakes.

You shouldn't have been there, fuck. You didn't belong there, you were like a white fly who had unfortunately fallen into a pool of tar and had become like all the scum around you.

A chuckle escapes your throat as the relief of water is denied you by some asshole from the "special" Class-D, the ones whose job it was to observe and monitor the other groups. Apparently, a ten-minute shower was far too much.

With the calmness only seen in those who know they'll have to die sooner rather than later, you queue to leave, head down to look at the shower tiles and, if you had the chance, at the heels of the person in front.

You didn't belong in that shithole.

It had been bad luck, yours. A series of unfortunate events that had led you to... well, this. When you were a normal citizen, you'd had a few minor problems here and there, you'd physically hurt a few people for reasons you hated to remember, but nothing that put you on the same level as these subhumans. You'd tried everything to escape this immense darkness that was your pathetic existence and redeem yourself. You'd never truly believed in God, but now that you'd seen what lay within the Foundation, you gave the Holy Creator the certainty of doubt. Even the little crucifix you'd worn so condescendingly had been ripped away from you.

You couldn't see them any other way. Not that they were to blame, but just being compared to them made bile rise in your throat. It burned. You wanted to kill everyone in this damned hellish facility, human and otherwise, yet you were a too small fish in what seemed like the jaws of a gigantic marine predator.

As you dressed, the fabric sticking to your clammy skin and your hair dripping like a broken faucet, you thought back to the sacred act. According to the protocol everyone seemed to follow religiously, you were supposed to report certain... options, so to speak, but you already knew that wouldn't help.

The psychologists in charge of monitoring the Class-Ds' mental health didn't give a damn, to be brutally blunt and honest. You were an easy target for any experiments on you, but the rule was that, in the end, when one Class-D died, another was born, a bit like popes, but the latter are remembered and elevated to sainthood. You could only hope that the worms would thank and venerate your carcass in their own way, devouring you with tender devotion.

On the best of days, you saw yourself as a Savior, good enough to not only descend to the level of Sinners but even lower, being sacrificed so that others could be safe from the anomalies.

You regain consciousness only when you hear the methodical sound of the cell doors opening, creaking sadly, welcoming you in their own way. The antiseptic smell that lingered in the closed room was nauseating; they must have been late in cleaning your room: bad luck or a sign that you just had to give in to your suicidal desires? You take a step forward and the room closes with a dull thud.

Your eyelids are heavy, and what you really want is to throw yourself serenely into the arms of the hard mattress that made up your bed, along with a creaking, rusty metal frame and an equally uncomfortable pillow. You huff and puff as you drag yourself along, ungratefully dissatisfied that you were still alive: suicide seemed so pathetic, but perhaps it truly was the only way; a purification, Death, from your desperate despair, Life.

Automatically, you kneel before the cold, uncomfortable bed, resting your elbows on it and intertwining your fingers in an innocent, hopeful gesture. You pray, over and over again, knowing full well that God won't save you today either; perhaps he was too busy helping wealthy entrepreneurs who were about to make their fortunes.

What a fucking irony of fucking fate.

You take a deep breath, the taste of your own blood hitting your taste buds and your tongue retracts. Rather than experience your own depressing taste, your brain would have made you choke on your own tongue. You bring your fingers to your lower lip. How long had you been biting it? Well, certainly long enough to cut the skin and let the fresh, colorful liquid out.

You only recover when suddenly your fingers disappear from your sight, darkness falls in the room, and a voice in the hallway outside yells for you to go to bed or something.

Limply, and in total darkness, you lie down in bed, curling up so you can hug and comfort yourself. Within seconds, your eyes close completely, allowing you to fall into a dark dream world.

-

You wake up only to the sudden, annoying sound of the siren: "All Security Personnel are requested to implement Primary Security Measures following the containment breach of anomalies. This is not a drill. Any Class-D found outside their cell will be targeted on sight: do not resist."

Was this perhaps God's benevolence? Had he perhaps listened to you? Or was it just a trap of the Devil?

The red light flickered against your four walls, which you'd hated since day one. You wouldn't have minded dying here and now... but did those damned MTF agents deserve to kill you? Maybe not, probably not, absolutely not. You wouldn't let those devils touch you, but maybe you could find a way to kill yourself right now.

As if someone was actually listening to you, which made you a little uncomfortable at first, with a clang of metal, the door to your cell burst open, and from your position sitting on the bed, you could begin to glimpse the corridor lit up, like your cell, in red. The light was more constant there; it wouldn't have seemed so scary if it weren't for the sight of a Class-D lying dead in front of the entrance. Pitiful.

The wheels were turning in your mind: you were fairly certain that the doors were designed to remain hermetically sealed during containment breaches, primarily to prevent leaks and that there was more damage than necessary. Therefore, something must have happened to Site-19's control panel, giving you the green light to do whatever you wanted. For a moment, you forgot where you were, but then again, that would be your end. Until now, you had only postponed the inevitable fate that would soothe your despair.

You didn't even realize you were crying.

And laughing.

At the same time.

A hysterical attack explained all your thoughts, your tears and your laughter but it was as if the weight that was making you sink deeper and deeper was slowly lightening, making room for salvation.

Your legs were moving before you knew it; it was like living in an extremely lucid and real dream. Now you were in the corridor, the screams and gunshots echoing through the terrifyingly huge Site-19, but they were distant, as if you'd just been given a free pass to do anything.

You already knew what the Class-D cell area looked like: nothing special, really. You turned your head to the right and, as you already knew, there was nothing special, just a pointless dead end that would have led to death if you were chased. Well, you wanted to die, so it wasn't really unfortunate from your unstable perspective. Then you turned your head to the left, and after a few meters, you saw the corridor bifurcating into more than one path. If you thought about it carefully, you could compare the Site to an anthill: at the center was the hub of everything, the anomalies, while all the other "roots" led to fairly useless, yet crucial, places, like the cells where those condemned to death slept at night.

You began walking, spurred on by the sudden, profound silence. If the containment breach was ending, you had to hurry and do what you had to do; you wouldn't have had another good chance like this one. To be honest, you didn't even know exactly where to go, much less what to do.

As soon as you arrive at the three crossroads you immediately notice that only one door was open, the others required a keycard which, however, you clearly didn't have.

So you decided to take the only clear path. You just had to hope you found something that would help you end it... or maybe even a way out. You were pretty sure that escape wasn't impossible, especially when chaos had set in at the Site.

-

You'd never felt anything like it in years. Your heart pounded with adrenaline as a splashing sound and gurgling sounds echoed through the hallway, while your eyes gazed at what seemed like an angel of death.

Indeed he was.

You'd walked for a good ten minutes, passing melted corpses and strangely corroded walls. You'd never been in this area before, but it couldn't be normal— an SCP, perhaps? Probably. You weren't really afraid of encountering one; you were sure that your determination, fueled by your desperate desire for suicide, would be more than enough to help you escape any anomaly.

You expected anything but to see that macabre splendor.

A Class-D pathetically pushed himself against the wall, trying to get away from the creature, a hand to his throat, which seemed to have suddenly rotted and melted, slowly becoming sticky tar that slid across healthy skin and sizzled, reeking of pestilence, death and burning.

And then he, the angel in his most terrifying yet ethereal form. His skin was black, probably rotten, yet as he moved, you could see, even from your slightly distant spot in the corridor, his muscles flexing beneath the dead layers. He wore what appeared to be a uniform, brutally ruined by time, a very old military one, perhaps from the early twentieth century. The jacket, however, was open, revealing to your eyes and the victim's a sickly, dark body, clearly not human. The creature was bald, with a plastered smile that stretched from ear to ear, pearly teeth that stood out uncomfortably to the observer. And the eyes…

God, his eyes: completely black, sunken, beautiful in the most morbid way. Only two small, disturbing white lights, were observing everything around him, focused primarily on the victim before him. He was hungry, you could see it.

You swallow hard as you feel an uncomfortably hot heat rising to your cheeks, you almost felt like you could cry: he had been sent by God for you, you would have put your hand in the fire and ignored the pain that would have been released by the fresh burn, you really believed it.

Your angel, the only one who could have gently taken your life, rotting your mortal body to leave you free to live your blissful life in Heaven.

Your eyes shone as if you'd just witnessed a miracle: his entire arm slowly extended to the head, which was bobbing in supplication. The man's screams were loud enough to annoy you, but you were too engrossed in the scene to realize that your hands were now resting on your ears. Your pupils dilated, the dead hand pressed against the skin of the man's face and... sank, the fingers pushing against the victim's closed eyes, and even then the organic material molded, as if it were butter. You watched in ecstasy; suddenly, the ground beneath the sufferer had become like mud, black and sticky. Soon, the man was gone and the floor was back to normal, as if nothing had ever happened, no evidence or trace. You hadn't seen Class-D actually die, his screams had stopped abruptly when he sank, yet you knew he was in a better place now.

“Wow…” you muttered out loud, unconsciously. Perhaps you had done it on purpose because, finally, the rotten man's attention was now focused on you: his bald head had slowly turned in your direction, his white pupils focused on your body, his smile, if that were possible, had decidedly widened at the sight of a new victim faithful. He took a step forward, then another, at what seemed to be his pace: slow, predatory, dangerous.

For a few seconds you stood still: was he coming to you, or were you genuinely going crazy? Was it finally your turn?

A nervous chuckle floated through the air as your arms fell limply to your side. You'd also taken two steps forward, and in response, the man stopped. He tilted his head, his pupils of light shrinking, as if considering a possible reason why you'd actually wanted to get close to him, not having just seen another Class-D brutally untied by him. He almost flinched, though it was barely perceptible to the naked eye, as you took a third, fourth, and fifth step.

He snorted. Now he stood still, unsure whether to give up for someone more fun to hunt. "Do you have a death wish, human?" His voice had come out hoarse and more hoarse than he'd intended. He never spoke to anyone in this prison of his, he had no reason to when everyone seemed too stupid, but at least they were tasty.

“Yes!” you exclaimed, your voice brimming with pure joy and ecstasy. He hadn’t even expected this. “You… you’re an angel, right? I’ve heard of you in the Bible, you carry out God’s judgment, right? Oh my goodness, and I’m even talking to you, such an honor. I left my cell because I was allowed to come and meet you, now it all makes more sense! I’ve been thinking about killing myself for a while, and then this.” I gestured, pointing around to see the breach in the containment. “God brought me to you, my time has finally come. I don’t deserve to stay here with these criminal scum, but I also don’t deserve to go back to the shit that was my life before: my only salvation is you, do you understand?”

Scp-106 didn't know what to say: your pointless rant was a mixture of pure nonsense, suicidal desires and a sick faith. Calling him an angel? Nonsense, the closest he was to being a demon from Hell, and you were here babbling about how he was going to save you? You had truly reached the limit of dignity. "Pft, that's the most pathetically funny thing anyone's ever said to me. Not even the doctors who work here are that funny, and they say and ask a lot of bullshit..." He chuckles, his rows of pearly white teeth lengthening to make his smile wider. "I'm anything but a salvation, for the mentally stable, that is."

You shake your head violently as you move again, this time clasping your hands together and placing them against your chest. “No, no! I can’t be wrong! You are the right one, the only one, apart from me and God, who can save me from this life of despair and pain. I beg you, touch me with your hands imbued with the power and strength God has given you, no matter the pain I'll feel!” You were so blinded by the will to complete your life that you didn’t even realize you’d started crying. Joy, pain, desperation and faith mixed inside you, creating a confusing mess you couldn’t name.

The man, the angel, the exterminator looked at you again, silently. He cocked his head to the side as he looked you up and down, flattered but with the morbid manner you'd find in a sinner. "Aren't you the sweetest?" He asked in a teasing tone as he opened his arms, as if to welcome you into a hug. "Then why don't you come get your prize, kiddo?" His smile, perhaps even his teeth, stretched upward as those white pupils waited, hungry, for your reaction.

You wouldn't have needed to be told twice. With a leap of your legs, your eyes shining and occasionally blurring your vision, you leaped forward, very awkward if anyone outside had observed the scene. You threw yourself, desperate but with a heart full of hope, toward what seemed like the golden gates of Heaven. When your skin, your clothes, your face came into contact with the corroded and corrosive flesh... nothing happened. No pain, no dark, sticky mud, no smell of burning flesh unless it came from the man.

“I hate cheeky little pets.” That was the last thing I heard before everything went dark.

-

When you woke up, you didn't remember much. You didn't even know where you were, but you certainly weren't in the white clouds of Heaven. The basement where you found yourself was pitch black. You gasped like a fish out of water as you turned in every direction, observing the moldy walls, with cracks here and there, and in the worst cases, even holes. There seemed to be some pipes, too, but they too were damaged and the color of rust.

It wasn't what you expected.

It definitely wasn't.

You wanted to get up from the floor to get a better look at the strange surroundings. From your position, you could see that there were corridors and corridors outside your room. Where the hell were you? You didn't remember ever leaving the Foundation. Could it be some sort of dimension? Or maybe it was Hell. You shook your head as the thought gave you the strength to react and get up. You hadn't expected to feel no pain; in fact, your body felt intact. Were you even dead?

The blood in your veins had been frozen ever since you regained consciousness. You'd made a huge, fucking mistake. You'd thrown yourself into the arms of a monster, mistaking him for a damned angel, and now you were paying the consequences. You just wanted to go home, or at least to the Foundation. A shiver ran down your spine, making your whole body tremble. This wasn't okay. You had a horrible feeling you couldn't shake. You were at the mercy of an anomaly, and who knows what he would do to you: this wasn't your goal; you would only suffer more.

-

You'd begun running desperately through what seemed like room after room, all the same, except for the mounds of what looked like corpses now reduced to a disgusting rot. After the fifth mound of brown flesh, you'd vomited your gastric juices, you'd leaned against a wall, and it had almost collapsed under your weight. Your throat burned terribly, dry and ravaged by the acid you'd just vomited, your eyes were red from so much crying as you wandered desperately through that labyrinth, you didn't even know what you were looking for. Was there even a way out?

Eventually, you'd stop running, first moving to a fast march, and finally to a slow walk. You'd considered that you didn't know when you'd be able to get out, or if you ever would, yet saving your energy for the moment seemed like the brightest and most intelligent idea you could have. Not that you could do anything else. You kept looking around, hoping to find someone alive; even a few dying people would have been fine. You just didn't want to be alone in this parallel world, especially when there was a monster roaming around and you had the constant feeling of being watched.

Many times you'd whirled around; you thought you felt someone touch the top of your head, yet each time, behind you, waving sadly, there were only corridors, rooms, and rubble.

You finally gave in and sat down in a random room, specifically chosen for its lack of corpses, to rest. Staying still wasn't the best option, but did you have any other choice? Slowly, your eyelids drooped, and your tired brain, guided by the pain in your muscles, decided it was best to sleep.

-

SCP-106 had never been so amused during a containment breach before. He'd encountered countless victims, stupid humans who, at such moments, resembled wild beasts rather than sentient, intelligent beings. Containment was optional for him. The Old Man was a predator, a hunter. If he'd been let loose, he'd be at the top of the food chain, especially since he doubted anyone would want to eat him: they'd be melted and corroded before they'd even sunk their teeth into his rotten flesh.

Speaking of teeth, he'd made a pretty big hoard of them. Pulling teeth was probably his favorite hobby; the screams were like classical music, sweet and majestic.

Torturing his victims was perhaps the best part of the hunt. He had even more power as the poor, life-giving body writhed beneath him, curling up, leaking that salty liquid from his eyes, and begging him. The prayers made him laugh heartily as he tried to calm the poor creature down in a mocking tone.

Speaking of prayers... SCP-106 didn't believe in God. How could he when he could be compared to one? His strength far surpassed the human mind, his essence had no logical explanation, and he certainly wasn't merciful. All of this made him comparable to a hunting deity, something dangerous yet strangely attractive. He had never considered this question before; he saw his imprisonment as a break from hunting season, and then, when hunger returned, he too would reappear in the lives and deaths of everyone at the Foundation.

And then, there you were. Like a grain of sand in the palm of his hand. Yet you were a grain unlike any other: you had run into his arms, begging him to kill you, and oh sweet memory, your luscious expression of dismay when you realized he wouldn't kill you was a delicious memory in his mind. So he had brought you into his kingdom, he had decided he would play a little, but it would have been too easy to immediately give you the pain you sought, right?

Now he watched you, hidden among the endless rubble of his Pocket Dimension. Everything you unknowingly gave him, from the tiny sounds of dismay to the jolts you felt when you sensed that something or someone was actually following you, were truly a blessing. Eventually, you'd collapsed, naively thinking you were safe. Now in The Old Man's mind, there was only one thought, one plan: to keep you with him forever, or at least until your body buckled under the force of dehydration, constant fasting, lack of sun, and, of course, just his disgusting presence, both physical and mental. He had decided he wouldn't corrode you like the others; he would do it in another way, to take away that spark of life he'd seen when you looked at him.

He hated that moment deeply, he didn't comprehend that expression, no one had ever looked at him like that, you shouldn't have been happy, instead you should have started to despair and cry, run away from him and his touch, not go towards him and hug him.

Now that you were sound asleep, still and unaware, he could finally come out into the open. As usual, he slowly emerged from one of the room's undamaged walls and, as soon as he was finished, he approached you. He knelt, his white pupils dilating and narrowing as he observed you closely. To be honest, he'd never bothered to do so with any of the victims who had come before you, but still, he cared only to a certain extent, and yet you were such a pretty little thing compared to him. Your cheeks rosy from the effort, your chest rising and falling steadily, the heat rising from your skin... everything about you screamed Life. He looked at his hands, cold, bony, and smelly from putrefaction; he was the antithesis of you.

He stood up straight, never taking his eyes off you in the process. He would continue playing and taking advantage of this special opportunity.

-

When you regained consciousness, you didn't know how much time had passed. You slowly opened your eyes, lulled no longer by the cold, hard wall of the room where you'd fallen asleep but by the softness of blankets, pillows and a bed. You blinked and sat up. You hadn't slept so well in years. You looked around and almost couldn't believe it: this was your childhood bedroom, the one that had once been your safe place, but which had slowly drifted further and further away with the inevitable passage of time. You almost fell out of bed when you tried to get out because of the tangle of blankets that had formed around your legs. You couldn't believe it. Had it all been a dream, a childhood nightmare? No, it wasn't possible because your body was in its adulthood, yet everything seemed so perfectly in place. You rushed to a window, it opened, and you could feel the spring breeze entering the room, gently lashing your face. The sun warmed your skin, and you could smell a nostalgic scent you couldn't quite identify, but it screamed 'home’.

“How strange, I expected to find something worse in your mind, I guess you just wanted to die on a whim, after all.”

And just as it had been created, the perfect image of your bedroom shattered into a thousand pieces: a bit like when you accidentally dropped a beautiful snowflake ball as a child, now all that remained on the floor was sharp shards and a decidedly less beautiful swamp. You turned, your smile gone, to look at the all-black man who surely stood out in your colorful, childish bedroom like a sore thumb.

“Oh come on, don't look at me like that. I was trying to be nice, wasn't I?” The mocking, superior tone accompanied him like a melody— a siren one, actually —that indicated the real danger he posed. “As nice as someone giving a photo of a recently deceased pet to its owner.” You hissed, holding on as tightly as you could to the windowpane. He hummed happily at your comparison. “How long have I been here?” You asked, hoping for a direct, not vague, answer.

The man snorted as he remained completely still, his gaze never faltering. “Do you want to know how much time has passed here or in the other dimension?” You didn’t answer, knowing full well he knew what you wanted to know. “Troublesome kid, huh? Well, what’s the fun in telling you? It’s not like you’re leaving anytime soon anyway.” He muttered with that cheeky smile you wanted to punch away. His bald head tilted to the side as he looked into your eyes. “Oh, are you angry now? Definitely more suited to you than devotion: do you still think I’m your dear angel?”

You stiffened. He noticed. In response, you turned away from him so he wouldn't notice your face, flushed with embarrassment. How could you have made such a trivial mistake? Both during your first meeting and after your first awakening, you had everything wrong! He was anything but an angel: he clearly had to be a God! How embarrassing to mistake him for his emissary. Sure, you were angry because he hadn't given you what you wanted, but... if you had to guess, your bedroom was more like Heaven than you cared to admit. He was pardoning you by giving you what you lacked most: a safe place.

Your eyes wandered to the beautiful landscape outside the window: he was giving you Heaven, how could he be evil?

A baritone laugh broke the awkward silence that had settled in the room. “I know what you’re thinking, and it’s damn pathetic, but also, you know, hilarious. Do you really see me as a God? Don’t you think you’re exaggerating now? Do you think a God could treat such an innocent little creature like you so cruelly?” His voice grew closer as he continued his rapid-fire, stinging questions. He wanted to make you understand that you were wrong, that you should see everything differently, yet you couldn’t, not even with the best of your mind. You couldn’t think otherwise; it was as if a blindfold had been placed over your eyes, distorting the harsh reality you didn’t want to face. “Tell me, precious, do you find it difficult to understand my nature? Your little human brain can’t strain much longer, can it?” He was practically breathing down your neck, and you swallowed hard, embarrassment making you confused and weak; in his eyes, you were nothing more than a curiosity. “Uh, just as I thought— how about I kill you now? I’d make your desperate dream come true and free you from this desperate farce you call 'reality.'”

His words hung dangerously in the air. Your eyes, which had unknowingly become moist, rested on the wonderful nature He had created for you. As if to console you in an unprofessional manner, the man had placed his hand on your neck, perhaps to emphasize his honeytrap, and perhaps also to feel the constant pulse of blood pumping through your body beneath his dead palm.

And as the minutes passed, you realized that, well, you didn't really want to die: not when you had before your eyes and in your hands everything you'd been searching for since you'd ended up working for the Foundation. You needed this.

“What if I don't accept?” You said with a trembling voice, very afraid of the consequences because you wanted to stay here. “What if I want to stay here forever?” you asked immediately after, turning to face him, his smile not faltering even an inch.

“Do you want to stay here? Forever?” The creature replied, and in that moment you realized you didn't even know his name. “Who am I to stop you from staying? Not that you have much of a choice anyway, my dear: if you haven't noticed, there's no door.” He said as his black-and-white eyes shifted to the spot where, if you were ever going to win this little game, there would have to be an exit to your own little paradise. His thumb, as if it were natural and normal, began dragging along the thin, fragile skin of your neck.

You nodded silently, and immediately a slip of the tongue made you stiffen. “Use your words, dear.” His tone was stern, uncompromising, and now you realized how dry your throat was. “Y-Yes, I want to stay here: please let me stay!” you begged, your hands unconsciously clutching the worn fabric of his old uniform. “T-This is what I crave: no other place would do. I want you to be my salvation… even if your nature isn’t.” You stated, this time with more conviction as your face flushed because you wanted more: you were the only one who saw him for what he was, a God. You wanted to be the only devotee he ever needed. The exception.

“Aw, aren’t you sooo good? So hungry to please your God, aren’t you?” And SCP-106 found himself, for the first time, absolutely persuaded by these words. He didn’t know how long this, you, would last, but he was pretty sure he could get far more enjoyment out of it than just a pathetic chase. “I will grant your wish and many more, my dear, if you'll deserve them.” He whispered, his words like a melody if it weren’t for his distorted voice, but you didn’t seem to care. Without him even realizing it, he was wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you closer.

“I can do it.” You murmured softly, confident, your eyes never leaving his gaze for a second. Emotions swirled inside you. For years, you had hoped God was there for you, and now, finally, you had everything you needed.

“Oh I’m very sure of that, little thing.”

If you were to have a relationship with SCP-096, also known as Shy Guy, I think you would most likely be a nurse, and one of the few who aren't scared to death of the said creature.

You would be sent to check on his wounds very often, especially after experiments on the 'monster'.

Of course, you were always afraid when they sent you to his pure steel containment cell, who wouldn't be, and yet somehow you understood and respected his decision to keep his privacy (also because otherwise you would have passed away).

Honestly, everyone had already understood that that 2.38 meter tall being didn't need medical assistance, yet you continued to insist because the sorrow he was causing you was just too much.

You understood that 096 was dangerous, God only knows how many men he had and would have killed, yet he seemed misunderstood, as if he needed… a friend.

Maybe you were sympathizing with him a little too much.

You deeply hated the cruelty that hung like poisonous spores in the air of the Foundation.

Everyone, without exception, was cruel.

You understood that security measures always had to be in place for all staff’s safety, but every time you heard Dr. ███, the guards and even the Class Ds talking about SCP-096… it was as if they were talking about a fool: in your studies, you had seen proof that everyone could understand, and even without speaking, SCP-096 could communicate, he just hadn't had the chance to learn.

So, armed only with your proposal and a lot of courage, you went to Dr. ███ to begin a learning journey for SCP-096.

Within minutes you were out of the office with a signature to start the project.

The first few times it had been quite embarrassing: you blindfolded and sat on the cold floor of the cell while Shy Guy actually seemed not to understand what you were saying to him and, in fact, you felt like he was watching you, you just weren't sure from where.

You had started leaving sheets of paper with wax crayons to allow SCP-096 to come into contact with something other than human bodies or stuff that needed to be destroyed in order to get to the aforementioned SCP-096-1.

The first few times you had encountered resounding failures: the sheets were completely immaculate, he hadn't even touched them by mistake, the same with the wax crayons.

The months passed, but you didn't give up.

Depending on the day, SCP-096 wouldn't even look at you, sometimes he would, but he wouldn't make a sound; you'd decided to start using paper too, with courage and your heart was beating wildly; you'd lifted your blindfold just to see what you were creating: you had decided to start with the alphabet.

Dr. ███ was good-naturedly teasing you, he was very skeptical about everything you were doing but he was anything but giving up experimenting on that bizarre creature, after all he was the one who had determined that Shy Guy was not sentient and did not possess higher brain functions.

The next time your paper was gone, as well as the red wax crayon, you had noticed it because you had tried not to wear the blindfold, maintaining contact with the floor: this time you had perceived SCP 096 a little agitated but not showing signs of aggression.

You kept explaining the basics of grammar or drawing objects with their names underneath.

Finally, after after meetings of hard work and patience, Shy Guy had finally taken for himself not only the sheets with the alphabet, but also the ones with the grammar and the drawings, unfortunately you were not in the cell at that time but when you returned to the containment, in your usual corner, you had immediately noticed the lack of the colored sheets.

You giggled heartily as your heart raced with excitement: you were making it.

After a year, considering that you had only allowed a few visits a month, which slowed down the process, you had noticed how SCP-096 was paying more attention to you, scribbling on the papers at the same time, always keeping distance from your spot, yet you had no idea what he wrote since he never let you see them.

At some point it occurred to you that perhaps the real problem was that 096 was deaf.

After all, he had never tried, not even once, to say anything, and from his behavior, it seemed like he was imitating rather than understanding your words.

You had thus begun an approach mixed with drawing and sign language.

Incredibly, it worked: first you wrote down the alphabet with the appropriate symbols and left it for a while, then you tried to ask him a question to which he responded with gestures that you saw because, yes, you tried to raise your head just enough to see his hands.

It had been fascinating to be able to see down from his stomach, considering that going any higher would have been risky.

SCP-096, then, had calmed down considerably and now spent most of his time drawing.

You also found that it was easier for him to learn the alphabet and generally write something sensible with the sign language, thus confirming your theory.

The real change came when he actually got close to you.

You almost couldn't believe it: you were sitting cross-legged on the floor and suddenly you feel him moving, it seems towards you and your theory is immediately confirmed when his weathered feet enter your view, he kneels down and silently passes you a sheet of paper with a drawing.

Two smiling, red-lined stickmen, one taller with reddish smudges on his hands and around his mouth, and the other much shorter, holding sticky notes and a pencil; 'You' and 'Me' were written at the top of the sheet in shaky but legible handwriting.

You had never been so excited, not even when you witnessed the birth of children during your old jobs.

From that moment on, something changed between the two of you: SCP-096, when you visited, always sat next to you with his back against the wall so as to protect you from him so that you couldn't accidentally see his face, drawing you pictures that he gave you or even asking you questions about everything you told him, sometimes you spoke through sign language, other times writing messages.

If you had to describe how you felt… well, maybe you would have said you were falling in love, but it was something extremely pure, immaculate, as if it were your first crush.

In his own way, Shy Guy made you understand that he had his own logic of thought, he made himself known even if he never had much to say and yet the time spent with him was like gold, extremely precious.

You understood, however, that 096 probably didn't even know what love was, you had no idea if he even knew what feelings were, and so you explained them to him as best you could.

A second change occurred especially when he started giving you more targeted gifts, it was as if he wanted to show off his artistic skills: flowers, hearts and chocolates were the best subjects.

You, of course, kept everything.

You weren't sure if he was just discovering what courtship was and wanted to try it out with innocent gestures without any hidden meanings, or if there was something there, but ultimately it didn't really matter.

The months of the second year passed with these meetings of yours, by now Dr. ███ wasn't making fun of you anymore, he simply let you do it, knowing that it was for the best: he certainly wouldn't have wanted to see Shy Guy's reaction if your insignificant little project were interrupted; after all, he was still a terrifying and very strong being.

096, for his part, always seemed happy to ask you questions about your life outside of work, even your romantic life, but it didn't seem strange to you, after all, everything was new to him.

You denied it, though.

Your job was always very demanding and dangerous, and getting involved with someone would have been mean to a partner.

Incredibly, one day everything changed, the atmosphere inside the cell was the same, he was calm, perhaps a little more still than usual: he had started observing you again.

Now that you had some means of communication between you two, you asked him if there was a problem; he remained still for a while and then reached out with his big hands to move you.

Now you were sitting perplexedly between his long legs with your back to him, your face burning terribly.

096 then moved his hands in front of you and said: “Is this okay?”

You nodded, too embarrassed and excited to do anything, and he understood.

From that moment on you sat like this at every meeting.

Another year had passed between drawings and chats between the two of you, you hadn't even noticed that January had arrived.

You took advantage of the holidays to explain what Christmas, Halloween, Valentine's Day, Easter, etc…

He was definitely fascinated.

When he confessed, it was completely unexpected.

You were there, almost at the end of the meeting, drawing, and he took out a piece of paper he'd been hiding all hour: it was still a drawing of the two of you, still done with stick figures, but this time you were holding hands and there were little hearts between you two.

Immediately after he put his hand in front of you: the long fingers were bent so as to show the 'I love you' sign.

In complete silence you had made the same sign next to his hand.

You think you became a couple from that moment on.

Your relationship remains a secret, however, you didn't want them to take away the only joy of your job, something you'd worked on for two years.

Unfortunately, given 096's physically cumbersome nature, it was impossible for you to see each other outside the cell. During containment breaches, you tried to stay safe and not leave the infirmary; you didn't want to go looking for him, you knew he would stay alive, but the truth was that you didn't want to see him angry and covered in blood, his body reeking of corpses and rotting innards.

You probably had idealized him in your mind: SCP-096 was the one you met every time you went to his cell, not the one who sent you a new corpse every now and then; he was the one who gave you cute drawings, not the one whose angry screams made the walls of the Site where you work tremble.

You didn't think about what would happen if you had to look at his face, by now you knew his boundaries and you were fine with that, he was more than a monstrous being locked in a reinforced steel containment cell.

Pray to god that Dr. ███ wouldn't want to find out, somehow Shy Guy loved you… but would he be able to quell his anger at you for looking at his face?

Even if it was in the shadows, your time together didn't change and instead became deeper with long hugs and, if you were very tired, you happened to fall asleep in his long, cold arms.

Anyone else would have been on edge just being in the same room as 096, yet for you it was so comforting: perhaps because you were the only one who had understood and helped him.

You were so proud of yourself and him that the fear had completely disappeared, leaving your heart ready to beat for him, tracing his scars in the quietest, 'dead' moments of your hours together and letting yourself be lulled by his shy but ever-present presence in the cold cell.

Being Trenderman's assistant had its perks. In fashion, he was a famous designer whose image was shrouded in mystery, yet he was incredibly popular among human fashionistas, the buyers of his textile designs. In fact, his pieces were requested left and right by every clothing agency. They never gave him any peace, and, to be honest, it was a truly stressful job. Luckily for him, however, there was you: his dear assistant, sweet and willing to work even the wee hours to deliver those patterns on time or close a deal with some big company, thus allowing him to remain anonymous.

Being Trenderman's assistant had, besides the very hard work, also some advantages, and one of these was that of saving oneself, at least a little, from the summer heat.

Unlike his three brothers, Trenderman lived on the edge of the woods. He'd chosen that spot because it wasn't too far from the city, but not too close either. In conclusion, your hiring had been a godsend, truly; now he no longer feared reckless kids breaking into what they considered to be the abandoned house on the edge of the woods. Moreover, he'd been able to arrange the house as he saw fit without it seeming strange to the people passing by, who would surely have noticed any differences.

Precisely because the little house was on the edge of the forest, the city heat never affected its walls. Quite the opposite, as there was always a pleasant breeze coming from within the forest. Furthermore, the foliage of the tall trees shaded the house but let in rays of sunlight that allowed the flowers in the flowerbeds to grow and obtain the energy essential for their life cycle.

Life for you was carefree, especially in the summer. Right after the new summer clothes were delivered, there was a dead calm, almost boring: you'd answer a few emails, sign for fabric deliveries for your boss, and spend your time admiring the various high fashion magazines that were delivered free to your door. Trenderman, for his part, was a hardworking boss, always on the move and never still. You knew he was a "magical" creature, but it was truly admirable how hard he worked. The only methodical break he took was for his tea, which you eagerly attended every time, even if you remained at a professional distance.

He was your boss, and you truly admired him, and you wondered if your relationship could ever become something more, something beyond the mere boss-employee relationship. Yet you noticed how Trenderman tended to be kind but never overly so, cordial as one would be with a longtime acquaintance, and you felt a little sorry for him. Regardless of getting closer to him, you were curious to know what had driven him to enter the fashion industry.

This was a thought driven primarily by loneliness. Too busy with work, your entertainment consisted of sleeping or reading, and you went out too little to connect with other people or even to look for a boyfriend/girlfriend. In fact, now that you'd met Trenderman, you'd raised your standards a bit: he truly was a gentleman!

But you weren't entirely alone. During certain parts of the month, some... special visitors, so to speak, would arrive. The first time, you'd been scared to death; after all, you'd opened the door and found yourself faced with an extremely pale girl, with thick, raven-black hair tied back, blue eyes sparkling with madness, and— most distinctively —a scar that resembled a Cheshire smile. You'd soon discover the girl's name was Nina, she was a resident of Slenderman's mansion, and she was truly a ball of energy. You'd subsequently discovered that Trenderman also occasionally made clothes for the residents, especially during periods when going into town was too dangerous. Nina had explained to you that, in reality, very few residents used this 'service'; they only did so in extreme cases, for example, when their clothes were so shabby they couldn't be worn anymore.

“You know, Trenderman is truly a treasure! He makes my clothes and asks for nothing in return!” Nina had explained to you. As soon as you heard this, you couldn't hide a slight jealousy. Trenderman had never proposed something like that to you… but there was no reason why he would make such a proposal. After all, he already paid you handsomely for all the basic necessities you needed, including clothes. You quickly shook off these negative emotions, however.

As time passed, you and Nina became great friends, even exchanging phone numbers! You felt less alone now, and even the smiling girl was thrilled to have another friend, someone to chat with about anything and everything.

. . . . . ◟੭

With a click of the mouse, you shut down your work computer. You take a deep breath as you stretch, your light cotton T-shirt lifting as you did so, pushing the sliding chair away from the rigid desk you'd forgotten for a few months. You grab the phone you'd placed on the wooden surface and quickly activate a video call. The recipient? Well, Nina, of course.

She didn't take long to answer; after all, she had the habit of keeping her phone on most of the time so she could respond to messages and calls as quickly as possible. Nina was a real sweetheart.

“Heya twinn! How are you?” Her voice is as bright as ever, and you look down at the screen as you wave at her from the camera. “I just officially finished sending the last few emails.” You state proudly as you begin to head towards the kitchen to make yourself a cold herbal tea. You hear a squeal of joy from Nina; you could have sworn you saw her jumping out of the corner of your eye, but you were too focused on walking down the stairs to really notice. You shake your head, chuckling to yourself.

Nina certainly knew how to amaze you. Always and everywhere. She exuded energy from every pore of her body. You could understand why she might not have so many friends; being with someone like her was objectively tiring: always on the move, seeking adrenaline in everything she did, even the smallest thing.

As you passed through the living room, you noticed Trenderman sitting in his beige velvet armchair, elegant as usual, reading what looked like a book, but you were too far away to see what it was about. You noticed his head move, almost imperceptibly, toward you, and you smiled, waving with your free hand. In response, he tilted his face forward, offering a small but friendly wave.

“Speaking of breaks… did you know Big Boss decided to give us a break from work?! Like… that’s crazy, right?!” Nina exclaims into her phone. You hum and whistle in surprise: “He did?” you ask in a surprised tone as you pull a bottle of cold water from the fridge to soothe the pain of your parched throat. You slam the fridge door shut with your hips as you move around the room, gathering all the supplies you need.

“HE DID!” And in that moment, you were extremely grateful not to have your phone pressed to your poor earlobe. Nina starts rambling about how happy she was, even telling you about the other residents' reactions, while you had grabbed a glass, some ice, and the herbal tea you would soon be enjoying. “Do you already know where y'all go?” You ask as you watch the water turn a pale pink. “Probably the beach… and, oh God, I can't wait to show off my swimsuits! I got a beautiful fuchsia one with a white skull print!” You listen to your friend ramble once again and, inadvertently, find yourself wandering. “Huh… it would be nice to go to the beach—”

You're immediately interrupted by another shriek, this time directed at you. "I just had the most fucking brilliant idea!" Nina shouts, and you look down at the screen to see her face glued to the camera and snort a laugh. "I'm listening." You urge her to continue as you reach for your glass. The brew has now been long enough, and with determination, you take the first sip. The sweetness thaws your taste buds while the cool water soothes your parched throat.

"The plan is for YOU, my dear, to come with us to the beach. Trenderman is such a cutie patootie, of course he'll accept!" You remain still for a moment, the drink freezing your lips, making them almost numb. The idea hadn't even crossed your mind, probably because you didn't want to leave your boss alone...

“Babe, are you still with me? Don't leave me hanging!” Nina brings you back to reality once again. “Well… that doesn't sound like a bad idea…” You think out loud and hear your raven-haired friend laughing in the background. “Of course it isn't: it's my idea after all!” You hum to agree with her as you move the phone closer to your face and ask if there's any other information you need to know. “Hmm, we're leaving in a week, so you have plenty of time to get ready. I'll give you more information about the trip later.” You nod, thanking her for the invitation.

You two spent another good hour chatting about this and that, from work to the latest parties Nina had attended. In fact, the girl really enjoyed going to clubs, taking advantage of the drunken crowd and the flickering, dim lights that hid her Cheshire grin scar from their dazzling gazes. Reluctantly, however, at a certain point Nina said goodbye, leaving you in the silence of the empty kitchen with the promise that you would immediately let her know of your presence at the beach holiday.

Now, however, you had a clear and precise goal in front of you: to prepare for the journey… except that you still had to ask permission.

This was downright scary.

Not because he was Trenderman— he actually had a very calm aura, he knew how to put you at ease, but… the truth was that you didn't want to be a burden to him. Sure, the holidays had begun for both of you, but you still felt compelled to keep an eye on the house he was paying for.

You timidly and cautiously peeked around the kitchen door to see if your boss was still there. Indeed, as you suspected, he hadn't moved an inch, clearly absorbed in his reading. You watched him intently, hoping he'd notice you and that you wouldn't have to disturb him by calling his attention to you.

Fortunately, your prayers are being answered.

“If you want my permission, you have it: you can go to the beach with Nina and the others, just be careful.” You swallow as you blush with a slight childish shyness: you were an honest adult worker, you shouldn't have been afraid to ask for a well-deserved vacation!

“Are you sure it’s okay?” You ask, muttering as you walk and lean against the wooden doorframe of the kitchen entrance. “I’m not sure I have a bathing suit anyway—” You muse aloud as you tear your gaze away from the slim figure sitting on the velvet armchair; that split second is enough for him, because after a few seconds you feel a large hand rubbing the top of your head, slow and gentle.

“Pft— do I need to remind you who I am and what my job is? If you’ll allow me, I’ll start making you one tomorrow that suits your tastes.”

Your heart was pounding. It was a request, or rather, a very simple offer, driven solely by kindness; there was no need to make a fuss about it... and yet here you were, blushing like a middle school student.

. . . . . ◟੭

In the end, you reluctantly agreed. You could have easily gone and bought one, but Trenderman had convinced you, telling you that he was bored anyway and doing something with his hands would certainly help distract him.

You'd flipped through summer magazines until your head hurt, and finally, you'd fallen asleep on your bed surrounded by brochures, magazines and fashion show photos.

When you woke up, it was morning, yet you were snug under the covers, all your magazines neatly stacked on your bedside table. You huffed, knowing full well who had done all this. Honestly, you felt too pampered for an adult, but it was damn nice.

You sink into the pillow and rub your face to chase away the remnants of sleep that were making your eyelids droop. You were ready in no time: after a quick shower, you'd put on a simple summer tracksuit to keep the heat from getting the better of your mood and your sweating. Calmly and slowly, you made your way down the stairs to the kitchen to grab something to eat; your stomach was rumbling with hunger.

As soon as you get to the room, you start grabbing some sandwich bread to make yourself a nice ham and cheese toastie. Maybe you could have even had an orange juice to quench your thirst.

Yes, that really sounded like a delightful idea.

Driven by hunger, you begin to pull the necessary items from the shelves: a knife, some sandwich bread, a glass and a plate. Then you approach the fridge and only then notice a yellow post-it note that reads: 'Good morning, as soon as you're done with breakfast, I'll wait for you in the lab :)', you smile at the message and decide you'd keep the note, folding it in half and quickly stuffing it into your sweatpants pockets, determined to slip it into your diary as soon as you have the opportunity. Once that's done, you go back to making your toast, this time more quickly so as not to keep Trenderman waiting.

Soon you were tucking into your savory breakfast; the toast was perfect, and the contrast with the acidity of the juice was truly a blessing for your hungry stomach. You were surely full now and could face the day with full energy.

That is, until you were walking up the stairs to meet Trenderman and a sudden realization hit you: he should have measured you. You almost threw up and wasted the delicious toast you'd just eaten. You gripped the metal railing as a feeling of dizziness hit you: why were you so nervous? It was just your boss... at a decidedly unusual proximity. Sure, you liked him, but not enough to call yourself 'in love', just nervous in that annoying way that made your stomach tighten.

With sweaty hands and a pounding head, you finally struggle to reach the door that essentially separates you from the source of your nervousness. In hindsight, it wasn't even his fault; you were the one who was exaggerating a trivial matter. Finally, you convince yourself and open the door: "Trenderman, are you still here?"

Your voice was shaky, like you were about to throw up after a hangover too heavy to handle: you sounded like an idiot.

“Oh, dear, are you here yet? You could have taken your time, we have all the time in the world.” He says calmly to your right. You turn to see him intently checking the shelf list. To your surprise, he was using his white tentacles to check the insides of the boxes. Unfortunately, he didn't use them often, so seeing them was truly a blessing. “I found some quality fabrics; sometimes I forget that the fabrics they send us are increasingly shoddy.” He mutters regretfully as he reattaches the list folder to the nail in the wall. Instead, two of his tentacles efficiently carry two boxes, placing them in a neat tower on a dusty, forgotten chair.

“True, it’s hard to find sellers these days who aren’t just thinking about mass production: luckily we still have our supplies… by the way, sooner or later you’ll have to tell me how you managed to buy all this fabric.” You reply as you approach the chair to open the box at the top so you can see the contents. An explosion of colors and patterns almost blinds you, and you smile at the simple beauty of that material. “Well said.” Trenderman murmurs as he approaches the chair to admire the fabric with you.

“Beautiful, isn't it? I knew you'd like my choices, my dear, but we'll think about which of these beauties to use later: I need to take your measurements.” Here's the fateful moment you'd been dreading since before you even entered the room. You could have sworn you were about to faint, or worse.

Yet here you were, being led by his white tendrils toward the pedestal. The touch of the tentacles, even over your shirt, burned terribly, tingling even from your nervousness. Immediately afterward, as the appendices, soon followed by others, moved you to make the job easier, curling around your limbs to move you, you felt as if ants were crawling across your skin.

“Are you nervous?” Trenderman asks as he watches you meticulously, guiding the tentacles to pick up the measuring tape and begin. “You’re extremely stiff.” He points out, and you could only hope the ground would open and swallow you up right here and now.

“No, just… just thinking.” Of course, a way to escape to your room and hide from the whole world, and especially from him. A throaty, almost dark laugh brings you back to reality, and, flustered, you look up to observe him. “Maybe I’ve never told you this, but you know I can read minds, right?” Silence falls, both in the room and in your mind, or so you thought, because you hear Trenderman laughing clearly again.

“You… you can do what?!” You exclaim, absolutely stunned and embarrassed by the whole thing, wishing you HADN'T discovered this fact about him. “Yeah, I usually avoid using it for, you know, privacy. You’re really good, and I’m sure I don’t need to bring things out of you against your will.” You raise an eyebrow as you look at him skeptically: “And how exactly is it different from now?” you mutter, somewhat annoyed by his out-of-character behavior. “Well, you were clearly thinking about something and I was just curious, my apologies.” He gives a small bow with his heas, and you could swear he was smiling, even with the lack of facial features. It wasn’t a sincere apology, and who knows what he had read in your mind, but you decide to let it go anyway for the sake of your sanity.

Silence falls again and this time you both decide to keep it.

Not for long, though.

“Are there other things you… can do?” You ask as the pale tentacles unfurl the tape measure to surround your hips with the utmost delicacy and precision. “Suddenly curious about my nature?” He responds, with another question, without even giving you the pleasure of knowing. “Are you avoiding the subject?” You ask, muttering, not afraid of sounding insolent: after all, Trenderman had entered your mind, it had become your right to know clearly who you were dealing with. “Not really, mia/o cara/o, but I wonder why you’ve never asked questions before: I’m clearly not human.” You’re quite surprised when you hear that 'mia/o cara/o', what language was it? Italian, perhaps?

“Very good, it is actually Italian.” He hums as you notice the tendrils have disappeared; he was probably done taking your measurements. “You’re still reading my mind…” You point out as you jump down from the ledge you were on. “That’s true too: I’ll try to do it… less often.” He teases you as he turns away so he can write the exact measurements on a post-it. “And why are you doing that now?” You notice him shrug as his back is turned to you, and you feel the angry nervousness building inside you.

You would be lying if you said you didn't enjoy the attention.

“So you speak Italian?” You ask him as you go to sit at your desk to decide which swimsuit style you liked best. “Yes, actually. I went to Milan a long time ago: as you well know, it's the world's leading fashion city. I thought it wouldn't hurt to learn a little of the local language, although I've never had the chance to use it.”

You smile as you look up from the magazine to watch him grab the supplies he needs to start creating your swimsuit.

. . . . . ◟੭

The day passed incredibly quickly: lots of breaks, chatter while the work was being done, and by the end of the day, you'd only jotted down the sketch, without even looking at the fabrics. Yet it had been a productive day: contrary to your expectations, Trenderman was truly talkative; it was actually pleasant to talk to him. You'd discovered that, in addition to Italian, he knew a little bit of French since he had visited the Parisian capital, he still much preferred to throw in a few Italian terms here and there.

He had started calling you 'mia cara' much more often, which, he had told you, meant 'my dear' in English.

And, in all of this, only one day had passed. Perhaps, you hoped, these days would allow the two of you to grow closer and… you didn't hope for anything else, but if anything were to happen, you wouldn't back down.

You fall asleep with a smile on your lips and with your mind you send a blessing to Nina who had made all this possible with her warm invitation.

. . . . . ◟੭

A week spent in the pure enjoyment of frivolous yet profound conversation, much to your dismay, was passing far too quickly. The swimsuit was already finished, and the memory of trying it on was still fresh in your mind. His compliments and sweet words seemed nonsensical, increasingly thrown into phrases referring to you. The same thing had happened with physical contact: one of his big hand on your lower back when he had to pass you, the gentle way he sometimes brushed strands of hair away from your face, or how he lifted you, with his tentacles, to help you reach the highest shelves, even though you could have done it just as easily on your own.

You wondered if it was just that he had become more confident or if there was something else going on.

He certainly hadn't stopped reading your mind, and the playful, heart-pounding teasing had increased.

Now you were waiting for the bus that would pick you up to go to the beach. The road wasn't busy, and Trenderman took advantage of the situation to stay outside with you. "Are you sure you want me to go? I can stay with you..." You offered again, more for yourself than for him: you didn't want to leave because the fear that things would change once your return was huge. "Come on, tesoro, don't be scared, I'll still be here when you come back." He tries to perk you up, promising something you hoped, deep down, wouldn't be cancelled because of your sudden vacation. You hummed, watching the heat rising from the concrete road.

“It's been a really nice week…” You mutter as you turn your head, now looking at Trenderman with a slight intensity. “I had a lot of fun too. I've been waiting for an opportunity like this.” Your cheeks heat up, and you were pretty sure it wasn't from the heat.

What did he mean by that? Was he waiting for a chance to talk to you? But you'd known each other for a long time, maybe he was just really shy? Oh my God, maybe YOU seemed unwilling to have a conversation with him!

A sudden blare of horns brings you both back to reality, and you immediately hear Nina's shrill voice calling you from the bus window. You turn to look at the street and a dusty, graffiti-covered public transport pulls up in front of your house. Nina immediately jumps out and runs to open the luggage door before helping you with yours.

"You'll see, we're going to have sooooo much fun!" she exclaims, chirping joyfully. In no time, you'd finished loading everything. You turn one last time to look at Trenderman, who waves at you, also tilting his head to the side, as if to fake a smile. You smile back at him as the driver's gruff voice tells you to get on board, and reluctantly, you climb onto the vehicle. A crowd of people, mostly men, stare at you, noting your features, clearly not monstrous and... banal. With your head down, you make your way to the seat Nina had saved for you and take a seat by the window.

As Nina strikes up a conversation, you can't help but glance toward the house, and to your delightful surprise, he's still there. Unfortunately, the bus starts moving, and soon the building and your boss are mere specs in the distance. You sigh, resting your forehead against the window as a sappy smile grows on your lips, your heart throbbing with hope that he'll miss you.

“Hey? Babe? Earth calling Y/N?” You shake your head as you’re pulled from your thoughts and turn to look at your friend. “Hmm? Tell me.” You smile at her as you put your feet up on the footrest, Nina looking at you with her big blue eyes. “TELL ME? Honeyy, something clearly happened between you and Trenderman!” She exclaims as she grabs your hands to pull you closer. “W-Well, we’ve gotten really close over the week, but—” You’re stopped by a sharp, ear-splitting sound and you smile, admitting your defeat. Now you knew for sure that you had no escape and that, on this trip, you would have to tell her everything.

And yet you couldn't be happier to do it.

HER PHYSICAL APPEARENCE

It's difficult to understand Kate's physical build;

She wears baggy clothes and, only on missions, her mask;

I see Kate having a mesomorph body: she is strong and athletic;

She is 165 cm tall (5'5'' feet);

Her skin is very pale but not nearly as cadaverous as Toby's;

Her hair is black and straight, slightly dirty, going slightly past her shoulders;

Her eyes change depending on whether she is wearing the mask or not;

If she doesn't wear it, which is very common when she is in the mansion, Kate's eyes will be a deep blue;

That beautiful, deep blue is always accompanied by deep purple circles under her eyes;

Kate practically never sleeps: during the day, she's herself, but at night, The Chaser takes over;

Being at the top of the hierarchy, she can't afford to rest, basically, her body is kept going solely by food and lots of coffee;

Her body would clearly have collapsed by now if it weren't for Slenderman;

If she wears the mask, her eyes will have completely black sclera and white iris;

This peculiarity of her eyes comes from the abilities that Slenderman "gave" her when he forced her to become his proxy;

Thanks to these particular eyes she can see in the dark but is also very sensitive to light.

Her clothes are most of the time dirty with blood, grass, earth and mud;

Her mask, on the other hand, is mainly very damaged but it's also dirty with soot and only wears it when The Chaser takes control of her body;

HER AGE

Kate doesn't remember how old she is or how much time has passed since she became a proxy for Slenderman;

After all, she doesn't even remember how she became one;

However, her body remains young, given Slenderman's powers, and she looks like a 24 year old woman;

She probably has many more, maybe 30;

It's crucial that Kate doesn't remember Lauren;

Slenderman has erased all her memories;

Kate has long since stopped searching for the truth about her past;

HER PRONOUNS + HER SEXUALITY

Kate uses female pronouns while her alter ego, 'The Chaser', doesn't use any at all;

To me, Kate thinks she's asexual and aromantic;

She knows well that her purpose is to serve Slenderman and she knows well how dangerous she is when The Chaser takes over;

She feels like she killed someone important to her a long time ago...

...but she much prefers to hide this feeling in the depths of her heart;

Furthermore, if she's honest, in the state she's in, she's not attracted to anyone;

The only people she remembers are the other proxies and the residents;

And she finds them absolutely disgusting;

Also, just the thought of being loved and loving gives her goosebumps;

The feeling disappears when Kate realizes that she could probably never feel love towards anyone and no one could ever love a person like her;

Obviously The Chaser is also asexual and aromantic, it could never feel attraction to anyone since it was created only for the purpose of killing;

But as I said, Kate's "examples" are the residents and the proxies, that doesn't mean she can't feel some romantic feelings and sexual attraction if she meets someone more human;

It would be very complicated, however, given that The Chaser would still be present;

HER PERSONALITY

Kate, since she has basically lost control of her life, has become apathetic;

The few times she is in the mansion her face is stoic;

She has become an empty shell against her will and cannot stop this process of internal deterioration that has already begun for many years;

She may still feel sympathy towards someone but she simply doesn't find anyone worthy of note;

After all, the people Kate meets are simply characterized by different ways of killing and appearance;

If she really wanted to find a friend it would probably be someone a little nicer;

But how could she ever find one in a sick place like the Slenderman's mansion?

Furthermore, she doesn't speak much, Kate doesn't know why but she always has a weak voice and when she tries to communicate her voice is hoarse;

The reason for this phenomenon is quickly explained;

The blame lies mainly with The Chaser, her alter ego doesn't speak and appears mainly during killing missions and since it basically resembles an animal, it emits growls and animalistic noises to scare and incite the victim to run away;

The Chaser has no need to communicate with other proxies and residents, so it is merely a hunting animal that uses Kate's body and mind as a vessel, as a result it doesn't really have a personality;

The only thing that clearly sets it apart from Kate is its violent nature;

In fact Kate can and is, most of the time, calm and reasonable, especially because she doesn't see the point in instigating or continuing a fight;

HER RELATIONSHIPS WITH THE RESIDENT OF THE MANSION

Kate doesn't really consider herself a friend or close to anyone in the mansion;

After all, her duty is to give orders to Masky, Hoodie and Toby, and possibly other proxies;

Behind this, there are people that Kate tolerate more than others;

As... if she think about it, she doesn't remember their names very well;

However, she knows very well that many residents don't like her;

In first place are definitely Masky and Jeff;

Kate referred to Jeff as "the burnt guy with that permanent and creepy smile";

She doesn't even do it on purpose not to remember their names, after all she has only had contact with Toby, Masky, Hoodie, Cody, Rouge, Wilson, The X and The Observer;

We already know why Masky hates her, and as for Jeff, the reasons are very similar;

Jeff, in general, is a big hater of all people who are not himself, moreover Kate has, in fact, more power than him and is much stronger and this is just a plus for being included in the black list of Jeff;

Furthermore, Kate, being the proxy with the highest position in the hierarchical pyramid, can hack Jeff's entrance to the mansion;

This would be very inconvenient for Jeff as he, quite often, uses the comfort of the mansion to hide from the police;

THINGS SHE LIKES

Forest: since she has to check the 8 Pages, she spends quite a bit of time walking around the woods and checking that everything is in its place.

Her cabin: like all proxies, she owns a small cabin, not too far from the mansion, which she uses when she doesn't have to stay close to Slenderman or when she's not on a mission. Kate is the only proxy who, although she has a room in the mansion, does not use it and instead prefers the comfort of her small cabin. It's rare for Kate to be out of missions, but it can happen, especially during the day.

The dark: although her normal eyes are not that sensitive to light, the sun is still a nuisance, as she is used to the darkness of the mines she was in before Slenderman created the mansion.

The cold: I think her body temperature is a little off, she perceives the summer heat excessively and her body feels good in lower temperatures: this is always due to the long stay in the coal mines.

THINGS SHE HATES

The mansion: I think Kate much preferred it when it was just her, the proxies and the boss. Everything was simpler and more relaxed. Now that the mansion had become home to other psychopaths, ghosts and demons, it's all a confusing and chaotic coming and going.

The Chaser: she feels like The Chaser hasn't always been in her life but she still remembers all the people her alter ego killed and doesn't like it at all. It's raw and animalistic, it makes her feel uncomfortable under her skin that she just wants to rip it away, but can't. She hates the fact that the same hands with which she handles everyday objects such as papers, pens, food, were previously used to kill someone. There was a time when she wanted to kill herself, but what was the point when Slenderman could bring her back to life and punish her?

Her role as a proxy: she doesn't really understand how Masky wants to be in her place. I mean, Masky knows very well what it means to be a proxy like her, why would he want to suffer more and work harder? He probably doesn't and simply wants to not be bossed around by anyone other than Slenderman, Kate can understand this idea, but not totally.

Summer/The heat: Kate becomes completely inactive when her temperature gets even slightly warmer than normal. It's like her brain is going into overload. She feels weak and helpless and she hates it, although she greatly regrets the position she is in, she can't help but feel powerful and strong, and it feels good.

Slenderman: It's his fault, right? She hasn't always worked for him, has she? She feels it's so wrong to side with that pale, faceless creature...

› FIRST MEETING

YOUR POV:

Being a doctor of the SCP Foundation, your job included working closely with anomalies, where possible.

But you're also an incredibly good doctor, then you find yourself working in multiple areas of the Foundation.

When some doctors are injured or directly killed by SCP 049, you are immediately turned over to it, after all all the SCPs you have worked with have been very cooperative after meeting you.

When you are given the SCP 049 file you are immediately interested about him, on a scientific level.

Observe his physical characteristics, his verbal and non-verbal behaviors.

You wonder if the previous doctors were total incompetents, it seems so easy to maintain a good relationship with him.

After a while you start working in the field and, being intelligent enough, you decide to approach the Plague Doctor with serenity and professionalism, without belittling his work in any way.

He was initially very suspicious, for some reason unknown to you, but he still answered your questions fluently and sincerely, hopefully.

In some cases he even tried to break the barrier of professionalism that separated you from him and, in moments of awkward silence during your interviews, he would ask questions about your life outside of work.

Of course you gently declined to answer.

But it was strange, something like this had never happened to any of the previous doctors before...

At the end of the interview you were very satisfied, certainly those questions he asked you were suspicious, but you would have talked about them with one of your superiors to find out how you should behave.

After speaking with some of your superiors you come to the conclusion that, at least for the moment, you could continue not to answer SCP 049's question.

In the following days you continue to study your "patient" a lot.

You are slightly intrigued by this "Pestilence" and would like to know more about it.

However, from what you notice from the recordings with your former colleagues, even SCP 049 doesn't know precisely what this Pestilence is.

You are slightly disappointed.

As per protocol, for a couple of weeks, unless requested by the SCP, there are no sessions.

However, you are informed about what happens in the containment cell.

It's brought back to you that SCP 049 was very restless, more aggressive towards personnel and corpses granted to him by the Foundation.

HIS POV:

On the other hand, what could SCP 049 says about you?

Since he had been warned that a new doctor would take him on as their "patient", he was initially bored.

All the previous doctors were sub-par and definitely infected with the Pestilence, you couldn't be any different, right?

But when he sees you for the first time he is surprised and intrigued at the same time...

You were definitely infected but... it was as if the Pestilence was... attenuated and weaker than the other people who worked in the Foundation.

He was excited, for the first time he had someone different at his fingertips and he wouldn't let the opportunity slip away.

Obviously he had to hide his emotion at meeting you... but he couldn't hold his tongue and, in some cases, he ended up asking you questions about your private life.

It's not that he was interested in your life outside of the SCP Foundation but there was no harm in assuming that the Disease could develop according to a specific pattern of things like: food, routines, etc...

At the end of the interview he was slightly annoyed.

Obviously he knew that you had to maintain a certain confidentiality towards yourself but you could have at least answered one question!

In the following days he really can't concentrate on his work.

All he can think about is you.

Unfortunately not in a good way.

He practically trembles every time he imagines your body's possible reactions to his injections.

However, his work does not remain entirely blocked by his thoughts.

He attacks the Class Ds and the animal corpses that are delivered to him with great violence.

He's so distracted that he can barely create those sort of "zombies".

He ends up getting internally angry with you.

› WHAT HAPPENS AFTER THAT?

YOUR POV:

There were only a few days left and you would finally see SCP 049 again.

It seemed like an eternity had passed and the guards continued to report less than good news.

You really couldn't figure out what was wrong... it was mentally taxing and exhausting, everything SCP 049 required was provided but he continued to be aggressive and in some cases, he even attacked guards.

You had already been called out several times by the director, he was pissed, he was losing Class D visibly but you certainly couldn't do much about it.

Finally those few days pass and, as soon as you arrive to the Foundation, you immediately rush to request a meeting with SCP 049, obviously it is granted to you immediately.

But... something doesn't seem right...

As soon as he sees you his behavior remains calm exactly like the first time you met but you could sense that it was just a facade.

As you ask him questions about the incidents of the previous weeks you desperately search for something in his behavior that hints at his true emotions but without much success.

You felt a much stronger feeling of uneasiness than the time before, you felt that there was coldness in his tone and you could clearly see his eyes observing you with extreme attention.

"So... I have been told that some incidents quite unpleasant have occurred, both for the Foundation and for you, is that correct?"

You begin, carefully calibrating your words so as not to annoy him.

Silence falls in the room, a minute passes, then two and in the end you decide to resume the discussion to get to the point, however you are stopped by his sharp voice that abruptly breaks the silence...

HIS POV:

Time for SCP 049 had passed extremely slowly.

Like, he couldn't wait to see you (and get his hands on you).

But as soon as he saw you already sitting in your chair in the meeting room he couldn't help but have mixed feelings.

You certainly were affected by the Pestilence, you were neither different nor special from the other sickly corpses and doctors he had used before.

He looks at you coldly as you prepare everything on the metal table.

It was incredible how he didn't want to cure you, after all the Pestilence, as he had discovered the first time, was inside you but lesser than all other beings.

He knew full well that he would kill you if he even tried to touch you.

Was it worth wasting someone so rare to make such a trivial mistake?

It would ruin his ego so much that he couldn't stand it.

When you asked him the question he knew it was coming, his nervousness and aggression from the previous days had been really hard, even for him.

Even lavender, the method used to calm him, no longer worked well.

Making it 100% a time bomb ready to explode.

However he wanted to give you an explanation, after all a doctor had to be honest with his patient first, right?

Before you could pick up the discussion again, he decided to answer you.

"My dear Doctor, I want to be honest with you since you have shown me that you know how to listen and reason with adequate intelligence... I find you very interesting, on a scientific level obviously."

He weighs the words he speaks carefully too, slowly resting his elbows on the metal table and crossing his fingers together, his cold eyes never leaving your figure.

"You know well about the Pestilence that I have been trying to heal for God knows how long, as you may well think you are infected with it too but it is as if the Sickness in you is somehow weaker."

He continues to explain while observing your every reaction, what he was about to propose to you he had never done with anyone...

You should have been grateful that he was giving you a chance to work closely with him.

"Going straight to the point, I wanted to make you a proposal: I would like to give you some medical examinations, for a period of time that we will establish if you accept, and ask you some questions about your lifestyle, obviously in my containment cell, which is also my laboratory."

He holds back a giggle when he sees you widen your eyes and hold your breath.

"Obviously I won't treat you like any other patient because I clearly see that you are not like everyone else, so I won't give you any operations or injections. After all, I need you alive and I wouldn't get any benefit from trying to cure you."

Having said this he gets up, without ever taking his gaze away from yours, the sound of the door opening behind him momentarily breaks the silence. l

"That said, I'll leave you to your thoughts, Doctor. I anxiously await your definitive answer."

He feels your gaze boring into his back as he walks through the door back to his holding cell.

Maybe it was risky to make such a bold request but SCP 049 knew he had the upper hand.

After all, if they ever tried to take his new little patient away from him, it wouldn't take him long to break out and go get her for himself.

› WHAT IS YOUR FINAL ANSWER?

YOUR POV:

Damn, that request had left you confused and disarmed.

But the fact that the top levels of the Foundation had given consent to this absurd thing had left you even more frustrated.

Of course SCP 049 intrigued you quite a bit and you would have liked to see him at work more closely... but as his "patient"? Hell no, you wouldn't have done that.

...

Yet here you are walking towards his containment cell.

The response from the top levels had arrived very quickly, precisely the day after the meeting with the famous Plague Doctor.

Given the reason for your visit to SCP 049, you dressed like any ordinary citizen, except for the identification tag that allowed you to access the Foundation.

Before entering the containment cell, the guards inform you that SCP 049 had already been informed of your visit and that he had already cleaned his laboratory, also clearing it of some corpses.

You didn't know if you should feel honored or not.

When the doors finally open to allow you to enter the cell, you can't help but feel a shiver down your spine.

› DEVELOPMENT OF FEELINGS

YOUR POV:

Hell, you had to admit, SCP 049, for a literal monster with no feelings (or so you thought), was extremely nice.

Sometimes he even made some jokes!

Even though you knew absolutely nothing about his past you were, somehow, attracted to him.

The embarrassing thing was that you had spent relatively little time actually with him.

Since he remained an SCP you couldn't spend too long chatting with him, even though SCP 049 swore on his name that he wouldn't do anything to hurt you.

The frustrating thing is that, as a Foundation doctor, you couldn't possibly have feelings for an SCP.

The Foundation's rules were clear: no romantic or carnal relationships, except for possible exceptions, between an SCP and a doctor.

You were really hoping that SCP 049 wouldn't notice your stares to watch him when he was closer or feels your heart rate increase.

HIS POV:

Of course he had noticed.

And he found it very cute.

He knew very well what you risked in having romantic feelings for each other.

To tell the truth, he didn't even know when he started having these feelings.

It all started when he started asking you simple questions about your routine...

And then he wanted to know EVERYTHING about you and what you did with your life outside of the Foundation.

He was slightly anxious about this feelings stuff.

I mean, he had thought about it and had even thought about kidnapping you and keeping you forever in his cell until your human nature had run its course and, even in that case, he would have guarded your corpse with morbid affection.

But he had quickly discarded the idea, after all you were still his Doctor.

He really admired you, you were professional like few others and he bet that you had worked hard to get a position in the Foundation.

He didn't want to take this victory away from your life.

If you were Class-D he wouldn't have taken any time to keep you locked up with him, but that wasn't the case.

Unfortunately you were actually his favorite Doctor.

He wouldn't lose you that easily.

› THE CONFESSION

HIS POV:

It all happens very quickly, SCP 049, as soon as he has the chance, confesses his feelings.

And he does it in a very... eccentric way, so to speak.

He does this while an SCP containment breach is in progress.

Obviously the first thing he does is go and look for you, just in a few minutes you should have met him for a normal interview, in this case him as a "patient" and you in the role of Doctor of the Foundation.

And when he sees you, damn, he couldn't be happier.

Seeing you use him as a real shield and entrusting your life to him increased his ego enormously.

Maybe he would start escaping more often now that he had a real reason to do so.

Red lights flashed outside a random Class D cell you found unlocked, you entered without hesitation as the guards began running down the corridor to try to contain the SCPs who were quickly escaping from their containment cells. Unfortunately, some SCP had already possibly passed through the cell, most likely 173 given that a dead body was lying with his broken neck in plain sight on the floor.

Unfortunately the door, given the short circuit that had occurred in the Foundation, could not be closed so you were stuck there. You try to hide in a corner, hoping that your body will be hidden by the walls if any SCP were to pass in the corridor.

The sound of the siren was so deafening that it made you even more anxious than before.

Although you had been working for the Foundation for a few years, containment breaches rarely occurred and, on the rare and unfortunate occasions they happened, you always found yourself in safe areas. But now? There was no way you could survive an SCP attack, well, except maybe with 049, but to the others you were totally defenseless as no weapons were issued to the Foundation Doctors.

You jump silently when you hear footsteps: slow, calculating and unhurried, as if someone was looking for something, or worse, someone.

You curl up into a ball, pushing your back as hard as you can against the wall, as if hoping it would suck you in, hiding you from whatever being was out in the hallway. Your heartbeat thunders louder and louder in your ears as your limbs start to go numb, you hide your face, resting your forehead on your knees hoping that the rule 'if you don't see it, it doesn't see you' still applies.

You realize that you have closed your eyes only when a hand rests on your head and you open them, looking with fear at the black color of your jeans. The touch didn't seem aggressive but it certainly couldn't be a guard.

"Now, now, my dear Doctor, don't be so scared, this feeling doesn't suit you when you have me on your side." The voice was soft and, at first glance, extremely false, but you would have recognized it among a thousand. You snap your head up and breathe a sigh of relief when you see SCP 049 looking at you amusedly. "You scared me, 049..." You murmur as you grab his hand that he held out to help you up. You are amazed at how quickly and effortlessly the SCP gets you to your feet, although you shouldn't be too surprised, after all he wasn't human.

"Oh my dear, I'm absolutely sorry about that, I swear that wasn't my intention..." You can clearly hear the falseness in his voice, his eyes narrowing on your figure, amusement swirling in them like a storm. "But now that I'm here I can protect you and... well, talk to you about a certain thing that we couldn't have talked about if we were being monitored." You raise an eyebrow as you look at him, he brings his arms behind his back. "I think you're not like everyone else and I'm not talking from a medical point of view." Your eyes widen but you decide to stay silent anyway, not wanting to interrupt him, but you couldn't stop your heart from beating faster. "At first I was curious: I wanted to cut you open, break your delicate human skin, see your blood flow, analyze every. single. little. cell of your body..." SCP 049 begins to narrate as he starts to walk around the small containment cell, his eyes, however, never leave you. "But after thinking carefully, I realized that it wouldn't be... optimal for my research." He sighs, as if he hasn't actually put the idea completely out of his mind. "Long story short, you have become my favorite human, be grateful for that." He finishes, stopping his walk right in front of you, perhaps slightly closer than before. "I don't want to know how you feel about me, I don't care, just know that, unfortunately, I can't just kidnap you and keep you in my lab but... if it ever becomes necessary you better remember that I won't hesitate to do so." His tone becomes increasingly colder and more menacing as he goes on, concluding, in the end, with an actual threat.

He doesn't say anything after that and you don't feel the strength to say anything, after a while your legs give out and you find yourself sitting on the cold floor. SCP 049 positions himself in front of the cell entrance, like a guard dog that protects the owner, until the end of the containment breach where he is subsequently escorted to his laboratory.

Obviously greeting you with a sweetness that was too clingy to make you feel comfortable.

FIRST MEETINGS

Splendorman had been invited by Trenderman to a party with some fashion designer friends of his brother;

And that's where he met you;

At the beginning of the party he was a little agitated, the only company he usually receives is from children or his brothers;

He also knows nothing about fashion;

Most likely Splendor will try to talk mainly with Trender;

Trender figures it out pretty quickly though, and, seeing that you're the most easygoing person at the party, he decides to introduce you to his brother;

At first Splendor is a little confused... you're only talking about yourself;

However, he is too kind to interrupt you and will therefore listen to your entire speech;

At the end of the party he will, involuntarily, know everything about you;

He will then talk to Trender to ask him about you;

Trender informs his brother that you are very chill but, somehow, a self-centered person;

But he doesn't inform Splendor that you also have a sassy personality;

Of course Splendor will find out for himself!

However, after the party, he doesn't see you for a long time since he doesn't frequent the fashion field;

One day he goes to visit Trender and finds you chatting about something related to fashion;

Trender invites him to sit and join their tea break;

And could Splenderman ever refuse?

Obviously not so, internally disconsolate, he sits next to you on the sofa;

The situation comes to a head when you realize that Splendorman isn't listening to your words at all;

You will have a lingering frown on your face;

And the two brothers notice it;

However Trenderman has to leave you and his brother alone as he has to go make tea again;

And the situation degenerates;

Given your egocentric and sassy personality, you begin to accuse Splendorman of not paying attention to your words;

He tries to explain that he was listening but simply didn't know how to respond since fashion isn't his thing;

The situation is resolved with Trenderman helping his brother to explain;

The "tea break" ends awkwardly;

DEVELOPMENT OF FEELINGS

Trenderman absolutely wants to make you reconcile;

So he will try to invite you two to the events he organises;

Being the proud person that you are, you will not apologize first;

Splendorman will speak to you privately and apologize;

(even if it's not his fault);

You start going out together, initially as friends, and, speaking not only about fashion, you get along very well;

Splendorman finally begins to believe that you are easygoing;

He also thinks you're very pretty, you dress very well and always very elegant;

When Splendor starts to perceive romantic feeling, he doesn't pay much attention to it;

You're very sweet but not his type, right???

When the realization hits him he's a little bit embarrased: he hasn't had a crush in a long time after all;

Splendor will start giving you more and more gifts (he used to give them to you also before but now it happens more often);

He will also shower you with more cute and sweet compliments;

You can understand that something is wrong bc he blushes very often even at the slightest contact;

But it's not really bad to see him get all shy, right?

THE CONFESSION

I'm pretty sure he'll confess first;

Splendor can't keep all that stress inside himself + he doesn't want you to continue to see him only as a friend;

He prepares everything, leaves nothing imperfect;

After all, he already has a plan in mind for how things will go and Splendor's just waiting for you to arrive at his house;

He wants everything to be romantic and perfect, like in romantic films or fairy tales;

He's just a little nervous, after all you're a little late (about 5 minutes but time seems to pass more slowly);

Emotion overtakes him when he hears the doorbell ring and Splendor literally throws himself on the door handle to open it...

... but we are not in a romantic film here.

The door opens with a click and Splendor, all breathless and panting from both anxiety and emotion, looks at you with dreamy eyes. However, the sparkle doesn't last long and is replaced by his worried "eyes" and a forced smile.

Why are you so serious?

Your eyes aren't as relaxed as usual and there's an annoyed frown on your lips. His arm instinctively moves towards you and his hand is about to touch your shoulder but, at a certain point, Splendor stops.

Did you just take a step back?

Splendor quickly moves and waves his hand at you to come in, now he's just like you: very stiff and he doesn't even want to. He watches you as you quickly reach the couch, however you sit in an unusual place and further away from his seat. Splendor sighs internally, not wanting to upset you too much, and silently closes the door, to speed things up he teleports to his seat on the couch. His gaze darkens when he sees you jump as he appears in front of you.

Were you afraid of him?

Splendor coughs and clears his throat. "I called you here to tell you something very important, my dear...". He wants to continue but stops when he sees you shaking and crying. He's really lost, and while he's good at comforting people, he doesn't really know how to act around you. After all, he had never seen you cry. The minutes pass uninterrupted, the silence of the living room is broken by your curses and sobs. "...do you want to talk about it?" Splendor tries to lighten the air that is too thick with unhappiness and tension. "I know what you want to talk about..." your voice is low and entremely shaky than usual and, at your words, Splendor panics.

Do you know everything? How? Trender told you something?

"Oh... really?" Splendor swallows his saliva with difficulty, his throat has become dry and sore in less than a second. He watches you while you painfully nod your head "T-There's no need for your explanation, Splendor... I understand that my p-personality is absolutely unbearable and, d-definitely, annoying... I had already noticed for a long time your efforts to push me away but... w-well, I always thought it was just my impression, I-I didn't want to believe it since i've always liked you... b-but now..." your voice is broken by a particulary loud sob and, after it, you are permanently silent.

Splendor doesn't really know what to do. Should he hug you? Kiss you? The desire to prove that everything you said was wrong is very strong but, rationally, he decides to take his time to explain the situation to you. "Oh my darling, you couldn't be more wrong..." quickly his usual and iconic smile reappears, a tentacle slowly approaches you and rests under your chin, then it gently raises your head in his direction. "I love you... that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I was afraid of rejection but now that I know how you feel I think it will be easier to confess, isn't it?" Splendor chuckles lightly, very amused by the misunderstanding that had arisen a few minutes ago.

After these words no one speaks anymore, you start crying again, against your will, but this time for other reasons and Splendor knows it well.

You spend most of the day cuddling on the couch and you both decide not to discuss the "feelings" issue for now. After all the emotions before you both need a break.

AFTER THE CONFESSION

You start spending more and more time together;

Splendorman is already thinking of living together but doesn't want to force you to do something you don't want;

Even though you don't live together yet, you spend a lot of nights at his house;

You mostly spend time together while he creates some gifts for the kids and you design some new accessories and clothes;

Speaking of drawings: one day he peeks into your notebook and sees all the beautiful sketches:

From then on, he start giving yourself anything related to drawing;

YOUR RELATIONSHIP

Your relationship is, in general, very stable;

Splendor learned how to deal with your sassy personality and you did the same with him;

That said, when you two argue, Splendor tries to resolve the situation as quickly as possible;

He knows you won't apologize anytime soon or at all;

One time you apologized to him two months after the fight, Splendor thought it was very cute that you were still thinking about it;

He knows that you care about your relationship, you just have a little difficulty apologizing, but Splendorman takes on this task very willingly;

You two don't really think too much about the future, Splendor only thinks about living together;

As far as future children are concerned, it is still an unknown;

Starting a family is challenging and you both have a lot of work to do during the days, so at the moment you don't even think about it;

Although Splendor is very proud to have you as his boyfriend/girlfriend, is reluctant to let you meet Offender and Slender, so expect to see them few times or not at all;

Having said that, he is very happy that you are on good terms with Trender;

You are the person he cares about most in the world and the same goes for you;

Also you are very cute together ^^

HIS PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Toby looks really young compared to his actual age;

Toby has an ectomorphic body, which means his metabolism is very high and it's difficult for him to gain muscle mass;

With constant exercise, however, it's not impossible: although he remains slim, he definitely has some muscle;

After all, this damned guy throws axes and decapitates heads;

However, I think his weakest point is running;

Listen to me now: his CIPA doesn't make him sweat, and this can raise his body temperature, causing him to faint;

However I see Toby as a fast runner, he gets to his victims pretty quickly before overheating;

He is 177 cm tall (which is equivalent, more or less, to 5,5 ft, I hope I did the conversion correctly, forgive my European ass);

His skin is very pale and, in appearance, Toby seems almost sickly and weak;

His skin contrasts with his dark hair, his dark eyes and with the large wound near his mouth;

His hair are slightly longer than when he was a teenager but continues to have a very dark totality;

He doesn't really take care of his hair, so they're very tangled most of the time, but they would be slighttly wavy;

He used to use his muzzle a lot more often to keep from scratching his fingers;

However, since he started smoking, he's more likely to light up a cigarette than to bite his nails when under stress;

He still uses his muzzle when he's on missions, yk to make himself look more scary and shit;

He used to always hide the wound on his cheek, but now he's gotten over it and never hides it;

When he goes on missions in the city, he covers it with a large Band-Aid;

HIS AGE

As previously mentioned, Toby seems young, he looks around 19 years old;

However our man is 23!!!

Yes, surprise, he's not a 17 year old teenager;

Precisely because he is getting older he has many resentments, after all he didn't enjoy his life as a student and adolescent at all nor his life as a child (given his abusive father);

For this reason he is very jealous of the kids and teens he meets during undercover missions;

(the voices tell him to kill everyone who has a good life but Toby knows it's wrong since it's not anyone else's fault that he had a horrible life);

(but still, Toby remains a violent and aggressive man, so as not to listen to the voices and not to actually kill everyone on sight, to prevent this, he will bite his nails until they bleed. Promptly Masky will hit him on the back of Toby's head telling him to stop giving in the eye);

HIS PRONOUNS (+ THE VOICES)

Toby uses male pronouns, however for the voices he uses they/them;

In fact, it happened that he spoke about the voices to some proxy or to a resident of the mansion;

I see Toby as pansexual;

Having never had the chance to fall in love with anyone during his life as a "normal" person, Toby is not attracted to any particular gender;

I don't think he's very interested in having a relationship, he's not looking for one or expecting it, but if it were to happen, he wouldn't mind at all;

In my hcs his relationship with Clockwork didn't really happened;

One of Toby's problems is that he become very attached to girls who are extremely protective of him and physically strong;

Precisely because they aren't weak and can defend themselves, Toby loses the instinct to protect them, an instinct he has with a weak partner;

He'll lose all romantic feelings;

I think this happens mostly with women since in his childhood the only positive figures were his mother and Lyra;

At that time he felt he HAD to protect them, however, when he couldn't, he fell into depression;

I'm not saying our sweet boy here is toxic or something, he's not looking for someone to depend on him, Toby simply needs to feel useful and wanted;

it's the only way he knows;

HIS PERSONALITY

His personality is difficult to define;

Given his Personality Disorder, even Toby no longer knows who the real Toby is;

However, he doesn't care much, he lives in a place (the mansion) where it's better not to show his true self, except to trusted people;

He remains a nervous guy around other men;

It is simply an instinct that he has;

He goes from being aggressive and troublesome to docile and not dangerous at all;

When he is docile, however, he may suddenly break down and become angry;

Even in these moments he NEVER raises his voice;

Sure he could hurt someone physically but never raise his voice;

He is the type who looks at you with cold and impassive eyes or with crazy eyes and without any kind of sanity, all this in silence;

Which is even worse than someone raising their voice because you don't know how far you've gone;

It rarely happens that Toby gets angry with someone in the mansion;

But when it happens the proxies must intervene immediately since it is forbidden to injure/kill visitors of the mansion;

HIS RELATIONSHIPS WITH THE RESIDENTS OF THE MANSION

Toby doesn't really have a social personality, as we've already seen;

He had a hard time getting used to the constant coming and going of murderers, ghosts and demons inside the mansion;

At first he avoided EVERYONE;

When he has become accustomed to all those new people he will continue not to talk to them;

Toby made friends anyway;

Well, to be honest, the only one he hates the least is probably EJ;

EJ is calm and is one of the few who can read Toby without really trying (unlike Masky and Hoodie, who had to learn over time);

A truly neutral relationship (in a good way) is his relationship with Ben;

Ben is a fairly reserved guy, he stays in his room-office and when he comes out it's only to stock his mini-fridge with energy drinks;

Sometimes they send each other random memes without ever actually starting a conversation;

(Ben is Toby's weed dealer, he gives him discounts when the meme Toby sent him made him chuckle for a good quarter of an hour, it doesn't happen often but the prices are still affordable so yeah);

Another neutral acquaintance (in a bad way this time) is Nina;

Truly, the girl is incredibly sweet, but she's too energetic for Toby;

He doesn't want to do it, but sometimes he tends to put up with her VERY poorly;

Instead, he hates Jeff;

Besides drinking, Jeff is probably everything Toby hates: loud, arrogant and a total asshole;

(Toby can be a total asshole, too, but he justifies himself by what he's been through; clearly, that doesn't apply to others);

Furthermore, Jeff, when he's drunk, doesn't stay in his room but wanders around the mansion looking for someone to take the piss out of;

We can understand that Toby still doesn't like alcohol and heavy drinkers;

He avoids Kagekao and Liu/Sully, however he tolerates them more than Jeff since they don't drink until they get drunk;

THINGS HE LIKES

To be alone: given his personality it's obvious that, even if he has some friends, he much prefers to spend time with himself, most of the time listening to music;

Stargazing: observing the stars calms him, seeing the many white lights in the ink black sky gives him serenity. He doesn't mind doing it in company, sometimes he invites Ben to the roof and together they smoke weed in silence;

Smoking: in general, I see Toby as a smoker (cigarettes and weed), tobacco helps him manage/reduce his tics. Weed worsens Tourette's symptoms, so he smokes VERY little and is kept under medical supervision by EJ, who, more or less, "prescribes" it to him;

Listen to music: banal but understandable. Toby never had much free time in his childhood to have hobbies but I think he would have liked to play the electric guitar or bass. Unfortunately, he would not have been able to play either instrument given his frequent tics, especially under pressure. He listens mostly to songs with electric guitar solos;

Long walks: Toby walks in the woods alone a lot for the same reason he stargazes. He enjoys observing nature around him so much! He can also collect small treasures such as stones, leaves, flowers and much more;

Piercings: one little hcs I have for Toby is the presence of piercings! I think he likes them a lot because he feels valued with them, Toby is a little bit insecure about his appearance but with piercings he looks very cool! Furthermore, since he felt no pain, he pierced himself a few times, failing miserably. EJ learned how to do it, so as to monitor possible infections. Toby now has two very cool 12mm earlobe expanders, a helix (which it definitely fought to heal) in his right ear and a piercing in the upper lobe of his left ear;

THINGS HE HATES

Alcohol: as I have said a thousand times Toby has a sort of PTSD towards alcohol. He hates the smell, its effects, its taste and the people who drink A LOT of it;

Cars: when the car accident happened Toby got that big wound and lost Lyra. This was a lot for him in just one day. Furthermore, after his father's missing presence at the hospital even after hearing about the accident, it made Toby realize how little that man cared about them;

Bullies: he OBVIOUSLY hates bullies. He knows what it feels like to be bullied, especially he hates people who say "bring bullying back please". (he is the only one allowed to joke about these things);

Toxic People: he hates these kinds of people with all his heart. Why does one person have to ruin another just for his own entertainment? what is the meaning of this? (I don't think Toby realizes that, through his 'job', he actually ruins people's lives. As already mentioned, the voices muffle his sensible and human thoughts);

Loud noises: I think Toby prefers silence to noise. He doesn't really know what silence is. Most of the time, although there are no outside noises, Toby only hears the voices that keep whispering things to him, sometimes giggling and other times even screaming, consequently noises outside of the voices worsen his headaches;

RELATIONSHIP HCS

If you managed to have a relationship with Toby: my sincerest congratulations!

Toby is a guy with big trust issues;

As soon as you arrive at the mansion he will most likely be suspicious of you;

Don't be too mean to him for this, it's the voices in his head that make him doubt about everything;

But when do you enter in a relationship with him? Oh, dear God...

He'll absolutely be the sweetest guy (if he's not yandere/if he doesn't have a fit of rage);

He will bring you small gifts such as: flowers, stones that he finds particularly cute or even deer antlers, why not?

All things he finds during missions/walks;

I can't get it out of my head that he will take you to look at the stars on the roof of the mansion and, I confirm that he will;

There is a possibility that, when he realizes that he is losing control, he warns you;

Not that you wouldn't have noticed, I mean, his tics and stuttering will begin to increase;

But it's so nice that he does this;

If Toby isn't yandere I don't imagine him as a toxic person;

If he REALLY cares about you, he'll only forget your birthday, but our boy here has a lot to think about;

But please, remind him of your birthday!

He will gladly give you a gift although late, he'll find the time for sure!!

FIRST KISS HCS

At first, it will be difficult for the two of you to have physical contact such as cuddle sessions;

Especially because Toby will be nervous;

Given his particularly difficult past both at school and at home, he has never had a romantic relationship with anyone;

So he is totally inexperienced;

(please don't laugh at him);

Precisely because he doesn't have any kind of experience, he will be very stiff the first few times you see him and run to hug him;

His tics will increase slightly;

As time passes, he notices that your pats, hugs, and kisses on his forehead/nose/head calm him down enough;

And he gets quite curious about how your lips would feel on his;

But Toby wouldn't admit it!

He doesn't want to ruin his first and very good relationship because he becomes impatient;

He also cares a lot about you;

But, when does the first kiss happen?

I'm pretty sure you'll start the kiss, Toby wouldn't know where to start or how to approach you;

He'll be absolutely red in the face, he didn't expect it at all and it was magnificent;

Toby will remain quite rigid even at that moment and, to give he his space, you'll probably decide to take a step back from him;

He watches you for a few seconds before dragging you into a bear-hug and kissing you again;

Then the cuddles begin;

Most likely, a few days after this event, he would ask you to kiss him again and/or if he can kiss you;

He'll ask you to teach him how to kiss for sure, and he's actually a quick learner ^^

The stars shone in the dark blue sky, sending Toby calm and serenity. It had been a difficult day and he was very happy to rest and do the thing he liked the most with his favorite person next to him. You.

He was so focused on stargazing that Toby didn't even notice that your focus was on his face.

You smile at the sight of his chocolate eyes lit up by the light of the stars. You and Toby had been a couple for a year and a half and it had been the best choice of your life, really. You loved everything about him: the way he hugged you, listened to you with a lot of attention, his little gifts from the forest for you, everything. However, you didn't think you were doing enough: Toby deserved the best and all the love he could get.

You knew about his past and the traumas and insecurities it had created for him. So you knew what the next step was for your relationship.

"Toby..." his name comes out beautifully from your lips and the boy can't help but look at you. His eyes light up when he sees your face: beautiful, smiling and brighter than all the stars in the sky. His heart melts. He's about to say a few words when his melted heart loses a beat. Your lips on his stop all thoughts. You're so close to him that the only scent he can smell is your own.

But before he knew it, you had already distanced yourself from him. Did he really forget to kiss you back? Fuck-

You were just going to ask him if he was okay but his long, thin but still strong arms pull you into a really big hug. Your head is pushed against his chest and you can clearly feel his heart speeding increase.

"I'm-I'm sorry... I-I've never kissed s-someone be-before..." his breathing increases slightly, you can feel it from his frequent exhales and inhales. "Shhhh... it's all right, you know it's not your fault, Toby." You tried to comfort him, you didn't want this to be a time to remind him of his social shortcomings. It seems to work and you lift your face from Toby's chest to meet his eyes.

A shy smile appears on his lips before bringing them closer to yours. This time he starts the kiss, and it's the best thing in the world. Giggles start pouring out of both your throat and his as you two continue to kiss, and Toby can't help but think about how lucky he is to have you by his side.

PROXIES RANKINGS

We can officially declare Slenderman as a "collector of humans";

He has LITERALLY tons of proxies under his control and some of them don't even know they are!

But let's start from the beginning, shall we?

The main proxies and those who are sent on missions/are assigned important tasks are: Masky, Hoodie, Toby, Wilson, Kate, Cody, Rouge, The X and The Observer;

Some of them are of slightly higher rank than others, precisely for this reason, some of them are not sent on undercover missions;

(for example: the presence of The Observer is very often required in the mansion, so he practically never goes out, not that he feels like it anyway);

The lowest rank is that of the Perpetually Sleepers;

These proxies are either normal people who don't know they're proxies (and who don't even know Slenderman exists) or they're actually living bodies in a state of perpetual sleep;

Of course, they stay alive thanks to Slenderman's will;

The Perpetually Sleepers have no purpose, and they are not commissioned to do any quests;

They have a future purpose, which is to act as a sidekick during the war between Slenderman and Zalgo;

The category slightly above the Perpetually Sleepers is the one of the Marked;

The Marked are those who have the Slenderman symbol on any area of the body, it cannot be erased in any way;

(the symbol comes with a deep black color, if it is engraved through knives or other sharp objects it is not considered "valid" since it was not inflicted by Slenderman);

They, too, are people who are totally unaware of their role, however, thanks to the symbol, Slenderman can communicate through their bodies;

Slenderman, however, is reluctant to use the Marked to commit murder, as they possess neither skills nor masks to hide their identity;

Through the Marked, Slenderman can wander through crowds of ordinary people inconspicuously;

It's rare that he does this because he already has proxies that have this task, but in some cases it can happen;

The third rank is made up of the Sentinels and the Hunters;

Sentinels are also Hunters;

These proxies are very lonely and never reside in the mansion;

They don't even have interactions with the other proxies apart from the Chosen (we'll talk about them later);

The Sentinels/Hunters are tasked with scouring the various areas under Slenderman's control, so we're mainly talking about woods;

They kill on sight any intruders (mainly journalists) who try to find information about the mansion and Slenderman;

They are the proxies that have the most abilities among all in: physical strength, endurance, speed and healing speed;

These proxies have no contact with humans, so they aren't sent on undercover missions;

The penultimate rank of the proxies is the one made up of the Faithful;

The Faithful are the proxies quite close to Slenderman;

Not the closest but still a good rank;

They are entrusted with missions involving humans, therefore undercover;

The victims can be mostly journalists who know they should not enter the forest;

The Faithful also take care of the roles of the creeps in the mansion;

For those who choose to stay at Slenderman's residence they must make small fees in return;

The Faithful, in some cases, can drive future proxies crazy, under, of course, Slenderman's request;

They also have enough skills since in some cases they have to chase and kill, in some cases, the victims that are difficult to manage;

They are very competitive with Hunters/Sentinels;

In some cases, some of them compete for victims and do some sort of an hunting competition;

The last and most important rank is that of the Chosen;

They are the ones in whom Slenderman places all (more or less) his trust;

They are also the first proxies;

The Chosen are tasked with being at Slenderman's disposal at all times;

They can: bring requests made by lower-ranking proxies to Slenderman, propose new proxies, punish other proxies, and, in Slenderman's absence, command them;

If they deem it necessary, they can rank up other proxies, however, this never happens;

The Chosen take responsibility for any mistakes that other proxies make during missions;

It is possible for them to accompany the Faithful on mission if necessary;

[Honestly, the higher ranks of the proxies (the Chosen and the Faithful) are not coveted 'cause of the closer proximity to Slenderman that would lead to a lot of damage both mental and physical]

SMALL HCS FOR EACH PROXY!!

- Masky/Tim Wright

Masky is part of the rank made up with the Faithful;

He was appointed proxy when all the happenings in Marble Hornest were completed;

However, he was found much later by Slenderman;

Maybe five or six month;

Now he remembers nothing of the events that took place before the meeting with Slenderman;

When he arrived at the mansion he was entrusted to Hoodie/Brian who had already completed much of the proxy training;

When he first saw that guy he had strange vibrations, as if he had to remember him;

However, he didn't mull it over much;

(they became friends pretty quickly and, in the end, they became roommates);

(Masky doesn't remember pushing off the railing and killing Hoodie, nor does Tim);

Tim and Masky are the few ones who are allowed to refer to Hoodie as Brian;

Since Masky started working for Slenderman, Tim has increasingly begun to disappear and stop manifesting himself as a "dominant" personality;

However, he is still present and Masky himself, when he is not on a mission, still uses the name 'Tim' even if it is not him;

- Hoodie/Brian Thomas

Hoodie/Brian is also part of the Faithful;

Although he died, he arrived at the mansion long before Masky;

Slenderman "saved" him and somehow brought him back to life;

And most incredibly, Brian is not a zombie! Somehow Slenderman must have found his soul (?);

Not even the Chosen know this information;

After almost finishing the training for proxies, he met Masky;

He also had strange feelings towards him, but much stronger;

At first Hoodie was suspicious of him, but the more he tried to remember, the more headaches and nosebleeds increased;

In the end, he finds Masky's unnatural wickedness and lack of mercy amusing, and they end up becoming almost friends;

Just like Masky, Hoodie also goes by his real name when he's not on a mission;

The only difference is that Hoodie is not a second personality but Brian himself;

- Ticci Toby/Tobias Erin Rogers

Given his insensitivity to pain (CIPA) he was placed in the rank of the Faithful;

He is very unstable and it is very risky to take him on undercover missions;

However, Masky and Hoodie have learned how to deal with him;

(Masky still makes dismissive jokes against him and his illnesses);

He arrived in the mansion when he was about 18 years old;

He only did half of the proxy training due to health reasons;

Due to Tourette's syndrome he needs a lot of rest, however, he is very productive during missions;

- Wilson the Basher

Wilson the Basher is classified as a Sentinel and Hunter;

He could be in the rank of the Faithful, however the need to be close to Rouge led him to be in a lower rank;

He's still very good at what he does and helps Rouge a lot;

Rouge and Wilson are the only Sentinel and Hunter proxies that form a duo;

They do a great job as a team!

He never really did proxy training since he had a very good baseball player base;

However, he continues to train with Rouge;

(if you hadn't figured it out, Wilson is really interested in Rouge, however they're not a couple);

- Rouge/Heather Marshall

She is also classified as a Sentinel and Hunter;

This girl has superhuman intelligence and insane abilities;

Precisely because she is able to imitate the sounds of wild animals Rouge has been placed in close contact with the woods;

Living in nature for quite a long period allowed her to have training, albeit an unofficial one;

She had a long period of depression both as a normal person and after becoming a proxy;

Since she met Wilson, the situation has improved;

Being in the company of someone has benefited her sanity;

She has not yet noticed Wilson's interest in her, however Rouge is momentarily not interested in a relationship;

After losing a baby (with a miscarriage) and her boyfriend in a car accident, she wants to take her mind off these thoughts;

Sometimes, when there are meetings with ALL proxies, she is often referred to as the Boss' Dog, as in some cases she behaves like a dog;

Punctually, Wilson comes to her defense;

- Liam Williams/Cody/X-Virus

Cody, or X-Virus, is in the group of the Faithful;

Slenderman watched him work with viruses and took the opportunity to make him a proxy;

He used Toby for this;

Toby, knowing that Cody was quite a condescending boy, especially in difficult situations, took the opportunity to order him to follow him;

Cody obeyed since he was in a difficult situation (he had just killed a man);

His personality has strengthened but he still remains quite clumsy and distracted;

That's why he doesn't go on any kind of mission;

He prefers to stay in his laboratory in the mansion to do experiments and/or research requested by the Boss;

He is physically strong (as his weapon has short-range) and he's also very fast;

The laboratory is named after him since he is the only one who works there (sometimes he doesn't even return to his room to sleep);

Sometimes he is ordered by Slenderman to make antidotes for viruses that even Cody doesn't know about;

- The X/Dimitri

The X, or less commonly Dimitri, is part of the Hunter and Sentinel;

He wasn't placed in the Faithful because he doesn't work well in a team and prefers to be alone;

Dimitri is the only proxy who owes his life to Slenderman and, for this reason, he works for him;

After all, the faceless man saved him from bullies, didn't he?

Dimitri is devoted to Slenderman so he has no effect of the Slender Sickness;

His personality is unstable because he can't control his anger;

He is intelligent and wise, however, when he gets caught up by emotions, he is very impulsive;

He also has panic attacks and asthma attacks;

The X works completely alone, rarely has contact with the other proxies;

When he has free time (almost never) he works on a technological device that will allow him to speak;

Dimitri is really tired of always listening;

He's still very good with technology and hacking and sometimes he stalks some people he finds interesting on social media;

Slenderman allows him to do so because he knows he is a faithful man;

- The Chaser/Kate Milens-Hayes

Kate is a Chosen;

She was one of the first proxies;

Usually the Chosen can also be those who have had contact with The Pages;

In this case Kate had the misfortune to find herself in this ugly affair;

However, she considers herself guilty anyway because she chose this life over death;

She has become accustomed to this life;

Kate, in addition to having the permissions that all Chosen have, must also keep an eye on The Pages;

She must kill those who agree (unknowingly) to play the Game by grabbing The First Page;

In the event that the person wins, Kate will not be punished as that person will become a new proxy (usually they will enter the category of the Chosen, but this varies according to the Slenderman's final judgment);

(Kate has often quarrelled with Masky 'cause he hates all the Chosen);

- The Observer/Kevin Haas

The Observer is the exception to all rules;

He is still one of the Chosen, but has never had any contact with Slenderman;

One morning he woke up and became interested in Slenderman and his business;

Although The Observer is in the Chosen, he still has more permissions than Kate and can give orders to her as well;

Actually, if he wanted to, he could very well be a new Lesser Power (I'll post about it if you want) given his abilities;

The Observer can: manipulate space and time, possess people, has vast superhuman powers, virokinesis, day-night cycle control, teleportation and many other abilities/powers;

Let's say he became a Slenderman proxy for fun;

He is very sadistic and loves to see any human being suffer, however he is quite "lazy" and doesn't leave his room much;

He prefers to use technology (technopathy is also among his skills/powers);

The Observer annoys proxies very often (Masky especially because he has a short fuse) to make them angry;

He knows very well that, in case any of them attack him, he could just report them to Slenderman;

Of course he wouldn't do it since he could just blackmail them in his favor but they don't need to know this ;)