Trapped In Here, With You (Sebastian Solace X Reader)

Perspective 🌀

Hey quick note, for context for some of this chapter, read Interlude🌀. Warning for direct mentions of cannibalism and aggressive behaviour. P.S the characters I created for this chapter will be recurring, only if, you guys want them to be. Enjoy!

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With the ever impossible promise of freedom bringing forth dozens of prisoners to the site (and to see what additions await them), you've barely a moment to breathe. Sebastian entrusted the shop to you while he traversed the new layout discovered by Urbanshade, eager to scavenge the new goods for his shop, and to join in on the explosive fun by planting a few surprises for the Expendables.

It feels odd to not regard yourself under that label; Expendable. Replaceable, meaningless, a matter-not, without worth, an asset but not a necessity.

A temporary tool, never meant to return.

How have you never realised how self destructive that language was before? How demeaning and derogative and dispondent. How utterly distasteful and decadent.

"When will Sebastian be back?" A snarky consumable breaks you from your thoughts, sneering at you with a look of mild disgust. As if you weren't palatable for them to look at or regard. "I'm not used to . . . You. What even is your name?"

Filtered annoyance, and the common sense to not stir trouble with someone you predict will die in two doors, restrains you from giving your name. "Sebastian will return when he returns. Have you bought what you needed? If so, I do recommend continuing to the next door. Key card's on the table."

The Expendable glares at you, and grumbles as they turn to snatch the key card and crawl out the vent.

You hear them die to some Anti Personal Land Mines a few doors later, and smile to yourself when you slip out to retrieve the key card, and their loot, for the next customer.

Ah, a group of five! Surely this will be horrendous —

"Oh my gosh, finally! I've been wanting to meet you, hello, hi, my name's Cia, but I'm called Cotton Candy. I've heard about you from a few Expendables who had to be extracted due to emergencies, it's so cool to meet you." An overly excited woman walks up to you, examining your scales and form. She's wearing a pink uniform.

. . . You didn't know they could be customised.

"So you're the new shopkeep? Huh. You're smaller than I thought." A purple clad (male?) walks up to you, next to Cotton. "Would have thought you were the same size as Seb, since you're both shark, or, at least I think you are? I'm Lilac."

They extend a closed fist to you, you fist bump them back.

"You're making friends with the new fish? Really?" Another woman questioned while examining the wares on your tail. She wore the original navy blue uniform. "We're just here to breathe and get what we need, they're not a legend —"

"Holy shit a Wall Dweller chunk!?" Speedy orange pushed blue out of the way. "I've been waiting to get one, thank fuck." Orange had messily chopped hair and fast movements. "You can call me Jave. Short for Javier."

Newly introduced Javier hands you data files hurriedly as he swallows the ghastly chunk.

"It tastes like drywall."

Blue looks mildly horrified at Jave. "Why do you know what drywall tastes like?"

The two prattle about some story about eating drywall by accident as a child when the last member of the group approaches you.