sniper mask x masked male reader
tw: gore, mentions of child abuse, mentions of suicide
//This is my first fic and it sucks really bad you guys//
After waking up in an unfamiliar world, (y/n) has been tasked with killing humans and defective angels...
tw: mentions of suicide, gore, violence, and foul language.
bold: writing
'single quotation': thoughts
slanted/italics: memories.
underlined: underlined sentences are basically commands and thoughts of those who's thoughts are still completely controlled by the mask.
single quotation dialogue is basically belongs to a person who isn't a mask or has gained a bit of freedom from the command and can retain their own thoughts..
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~" 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘺 "~
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3rd pov:
Butcher mask had been staying by Baker mask for a weeks now. Even though it had only been a short period of time, they already felt as if they had known each other for a lifetime. Or at least Baker mask felt that way. Ever since she had that memory when they first officially met, bits and pieces have been coming back to her, slowly but surely.
A tap on her shoulder pulled her out of her daze. They were in their usual meet-up building that was just rope bridge away from the hideout.
'what's wrong?' was written on the paper that had been held up to her face.
"Oh, it's nothing, really. Say, do you think I'll ever get a boyfriend in this world? No one seems to be interested in mask wearing girls. Maybe it's the tacky apron that puts them off?" She finished, steering the conversation and lifting her apron to examine the red, sewn letters.
Over these past few days, she'd started to notice a change in him. At first, it was just small things, like how he started to imitate a few gestures she often did to express an emotion, or lack thereof. But recently, she'd started to observe new expressions that seemed to chip through.
Hesitation. It was only a second-long delay, but even after pushing someone to the edge of despair, Butcher mask seemed conflicted.
Remorse. Something was definitely off.
How was he able to show so much emotion when his mask was still perfectly intact?
She was only able to regain a fraction of her conscience after she cracked her mask in a fight.
She clicked her tongue and brought an uncovered hand up to her chin in deep analysis, deciding it'd be best to put these thoughts aside.
He titled his head in confusion and flipped a page of his notepad. 'I don't understand.'
