Tyrell Wellick - Tumblr Posts - Page 3

Unfortunately, we’re all human. Except me, of course.

Alt. Verse: Headcanon

I’ve been thinking about the alternative universe Tyrell Wellick and our verse Elliot Alderson. Here is a sweet fluff drabble about Tyrelliot:

I like to think that Tyrell Wellick regularly sees a therapist and is medically diagnosed with bipolar disorder. He has a script for zoloft and takes it every morning. He knows he has manic bipolar disorder and that’s okay, there’s nothing wrong it. It’s something he works with.

And Elliot and him have moved into a two bedroom apartment together that little over 1,000 square ft in New York.

They’re two soft quiet men who enjoy cuddling in bed and are working on their mental health together. They’re mutually supportive about each other going to therapy and see their separate mental health professionals on Tuesdays after work.

They leave work, go to therapy, and then take the subway home. They’re both mentally exhausted after it and so they make an easy comforting meal to soothe themselves. They snuggle, Elliot wraps his arms around Tyrell’s waste as he cooks some chicken in a pan. Tyrell blushes, tells him how much he cares for him and how important he is.

Elliot says, “You’re a blessing to me, I’m so lucky to have such an incredible person like you.” And they kiss.

Afterwards they snuggle in bed and pop on a movie. Tyrell might read a book while Elliot is all snuggled up under the covers. Probably wiggle over to rest his head on Tyrell’s shoulder. They’d talk quietly about their day and their therapy appointments. About their life. 

Eventually they’d get sleepy and click off the TV. Elliot would make some tea before bedtime and give Tyrell a cup. They’d drink herbal.

Elliot would crack a joke in bed and they’d both laugh. Elliot would make a funny face and mess with him. Even tickle. It would end in smooches and smiles, quietly settling down before they both snooze off.

Note:

- Their second bedroom is converted over into an office/reading room. Elliot prefers to have his work space in their bedroom for privacy. Tyrell works in the dual-use room and is a book worm. Wellick enjoys running and yoga. While he’s working out in the morning, Elliot takes Flipper for a walk around town. By the time they’re back, Tyrell is finishing up in the shower. He feeds Flipper for him and starts on their morning breakfast. He’s a pretty good cook.

I've been thinking about Tyrell visiting the Allsafe offices in S1... just imagine if he had asked Elliot out to lunch or something :)

Spring mornings, skipping work to chat, and teasing banter? My kind of afternoon Alex.

*****

Safety had been Tyrell’s first priority at Evil Corp. As their Senior Vice President of Technology, it was imperative that their data remained tightly locked.

After the Colby incident, it was imperative that he helped the company save face. They couldn’t put on a weak front amidst the controversy- instead, confidence. The rest of the board was far too old and had better use as speaking bobbleheads in front of a camera. They had built the company to what it was but they were dinosaurs of a bygone era. Wellick was far more suited for the position and he knew it.

He patted down his tie, slicking out of the elevator, and strolled into Allsafe. He had a meeting with Gideon Goddard to talk about their next steps in securing Evil Corp’s data. 

__

It was a short meeting. It could have been held through a video chat, but with something as important as this- he chose otherwise. And, anyway, it wasn’t his true reason for coming here. 

“Elliot-” He smiled with a formal nod, almost beaming as he stopped by the tech’s desk.

He turned from his work slowly, reluctant to stop crunching numbers and writing his next line of code. He had been assigned to Tyrell’s case.

“Good morning sir,” His eyes flicked up, pen in hand.

He reached out and they shook hands, “Please, you don’t have to be so formal with me. Call me Tyrell,”

“Mmm,” He nodded, looking him over. “You came for a meeting with Gideon, right? To talk about the temperature control in Steel Mountain and our suggestion to regulate it by adding an analog component. In the case of an outside attack, it would involve someone physically collecting each protected key before making any changes. They would need to know the location of the designated space before potentially jacking up the heat in your data room and accentually frying them to shit. It would be unrecoverable.”

“Yes, well, that’s why I wanted to talk to you. I wanted your opinion on the matter- off the record. Are you hungry?”

He glanced at his desktop, mulling it over. “Are you buying?”

“Of course,”

Elliot saved his data before powering down. Grabbing his jacket and slipping it on. “Alright, I’m ready.”

___

[Music playing at the restaurant]

The two took Tyrell’s car. His bodyguard drove them to lunch, a French restaurant. A place where you could sit outside under a large pergola with blooming vines wrapped around Earth. Small wire tables with freshly made lattes, a plate of macrons, and flowers in an elegant glass vase. 

It took Elliot by surprise, but he didn’t mind. The place was beautiful and extravagant in an understated way. It felt at peace at its own existence, windchimes glittering in the breeze.

“I thought since it was such a beautiful day, you would like this. I like coming here for their pastries, they’re divine,” He smiled, pouring a cup of refreshing cucumber water for them both.

Elliot shifted in his seat, unzipping his hoodie in the Spring weather. Even popped a button at his color, fixing his hair. “It’s nice, it’s really quite beautiful,” He pulled his teacup to his lips, drinking the smooth hot liquid.

The two made their orders and chatted about work. It was easy to flow like this. Elliot felt confident about coding and security measures, easy technical conversation for his skill. He was brilliant and he knew it. He felt it.

“So... enough shop talk, what does a guy like you do for fun?”

“Umm..” He set down his tea, rubbing his forehead with a wicked smirk, “For fun? Shit...” His tongue slicked across his lips, “Taking my dog Flipper for a walk. She prefers going to the park.”

“Mmm.”

“There’s also movies, I’m a big movie buff. I grew up on Star Trek and Back to the Future- I’ve probably seen that one a million times,” He nodded. “There’s a long tradition of my sister and I watching The Careful Massacre of the Bourgeoisie every Halloween. We didn’t do it for a couple of years, but I really enjoy that,” He chuckled, smiling, as he thought back. “It’s special, ya know?”

“That’s tender,” Slowly, his heart was melting. Watching Elliot relax and exhale his stuffy work persona was heartwarming. There was more to him than meets the eye.

“Do you mind if I smoke?”

“Care to share?”

He reached into his coat pocket and thumbed for the squares. He fitted one between Tyrell’s lips- chalking it up to the sweet tea and romantic atmosphere. “Come here,” He spoke in a low tone, flicking the lighter between them. They softly leaned forward, catching the ends of their cigarettes together under the heat of the warm flame. The ends danced, grazing each other under the intimacy of the light and shared body heat. There’s always a reason to linger... Eyes catching the other, blue eyes glinting together.

Tyrell flushed beat red, snatching the end from his lips and playing with it between his fingers. He sat back, exhaling a long drag, eyes sharp and witty, “You’re a tease, Alderson.”

He snapped the lighter shut. 

Those lips parted, teeth holding his in place. “Oh, what do you mean sir?” Coyly.

“What businessman takes his lackey out for lunch, probing for personal information on an afternoon like this?” He gestured to the sky, “I know what you’re doing,” A stream flowed from his painted lips.

“Ah,” He flicked his stick, “I thought I was being subtle.”

“Nothing you do is subtle,” He played with his end, watching the other. “I like it.”

Tyrobot fluff taking place after the scene in 3x09 (I think??) when Tyrell realizes he's being used?

Pryce had left after he dropped the news about Tyrell's ‘promotion’. He was to be the new CTO of Evil Corp, a choice forced by his captor, Whiterose. Defying her wishes meant losing his son.

The only thing he had left.

*****

Tyrell had his fist full in the bottle, gulping down another hot slick round of vodka to drown his head. He fucking wanted to throw this shit away, this world, and himself. He had scraped and climbed for nothing. At least, not in the end. He pittied himself, bitting back his acrid stomach and let the tears from his eyes.

In his waking eyes, he was but a glimmer of his dreams. A thing he once felt was so attainable- within this grasp- now faded. Lapping and washing away as it beat back to sea. Stranded.

“Hey, stop that-” Robot pried the bottle from his fingertips, slicking on the cap in a quick motion. “That’s enough of that, it’ll mess with your head,” He resigned himself to a soft tone, sounding worn and kind.

“-That’s exactly what I want,” Tyrell hicked over the table, curled up towards himself as he flowed. Fingers covered his face, burying himself in darkness. “I don’t want to remember any of this-” He sniffed.

His hand rubbed soothing circular motions into Wellick’s back, letting it pour. “That’s okay,” He watched him, his heart sinking at the sight. “But it’ll make you feel worse, okay? And you don’t want that,” He scooted closer, ending the space between them. He gently grasped Tyrell’s wrist, guiding a hand from his face. “Come here baby~” He coed.

The two slipped together, holding one another as Tyrell cried into Robot’s arms. He shook, bellowing into Robot’s chest as he cried, feeling the weight of his life bare down on him. 

The taste was bittersweet and falsely true. Wellick has achieved his dreams at the cost of his wife, the threat against his son, and now- his pride. He no longer had the sense of control he so desperately carved out for himself. I way to teether himself down to Earth, to give himself a sense of purpose. It had all evaporated. He was but a doll on strings, trapped and bleeding before his maker as she watched him crumble.

His hand balled up Robot’s jacket, legs hooked around his wide frame. His shoulder became deeply wet. He sniffled as he wiped tears. “I hate this,” He croaked, feeling himself being pulled tighter against the chest of the other.

“I know, I do too,” Robot bent, kissing his cheek. “We’ll get through this, we always do.”

“How?” His head picked up, desperately looking into his eyes. “How?!”

“We’ll make a plan, we’ll figure out how to fix this.”

“I either accept or my son and I die- there isn’t another answer.”

“There always is,” He thumbed a tear from under his eye, caressing his soft cheek. “I promise, Tyrell. We’ll find a way.”

He took a deep breath, muttering soft words in Danish as he cleaned his face. A constant battle.

 He would need time to put himself together, to recover. But he trusted the words of his love. “She’s going down,” He spat.

“We’re taking her down, together.”

What Elliot was really thinking when he first met Tyrell…

A headcannon where if Tyrell is alive...he tells V*ra to fuck off and stay away from Elliot.

Warning: Depictions of violence. 

Setting: This is taking place in an abandoned warehouse. Where Vera deals out of.

******

Tyrell cocked the gun against his head, driving into Vera’s skull.

“C’mon man, there’s no reason for that,” He purred, arms opened and chest puffed out. “We both love ‘em, can’t we friends?”

Wellick’s lips curled, his swooped falling forward and dusting his forehead. “Don’t you dare put your filthy hands on him!” He took a shot at his knee, sending Vera doubled over on the ground.

That wicked smile remained, half baiting him to fucking drive it into him. “I think you misunderstand. I love Elliot! Just like you! I want us to be partners, ya know? Two kings of this fine New York institution” He laughed, “What? Do you want in on the deal too? I bet he told you about it. He knocked me out good that night. At that hot ‘n sexy therapist's place.” He whistled, peering up at him, starring down the glock. “She was really somethin’, ya know? They don’t make many like her, with her soft ‘n luscious ski-”

Tyrell sunked a boot into his chest, sending him flying and doubling over, wheezing. He splattered hot liquid on the cement. “Wha-What was that for? You hate women or somethin’?”

He cracked into him again, ignoring the bite of his foot. He should have worn his steel-toed boots today. 

Duty calls~

“No, you piece of shit,” He stepped over to him, crouching down to look the scum fucker in the face. “I hate you,” He hoicked up a noogy and spat, sending it splattered in Vera’s eyelids.

He pawed for Wellick’s shirt, yanking him forward. It sent the two into a furry of fists. They rolled across the ground, lobbing punches into each other as they struggled for battle. Wellick’s gun clambered across the concrete as they rolled. Vera had height and strength on him, but Wellick had the edge. His quickness. He sent sharp jabs to his face, disorienting Vera’s brain. He clamped his hand around his throat, throwing his weight forward, and forcibly pinned him down. He was unleashed.

“Don’t you EVER touch Elliot or so help-me-god I WILL come back and finish the job!” He screeched, veins pooped and furiously red. The other fished, soar gasping breathes released from his throat. Gutteral gasps. Vera’s feet fought beneath him, hands clawing at his wrapped fingers.

Vera snapped and sunk digits into his eye, making him recoil. He released- stopping his hands to his face as he screamed.

Vera wheezed, crawling for the gun in a desperate attempt to get away. His hand outstretched, pawing-

His body snapped back, a fist digging into his shirt and yanking him backward in a snap movement. Through hazy sight, Tyrell connected a fast fist with the back of his skull. A guttural, desperate sound bellowed from his lips. Vera collapsed, foggy. His assailant slipped his fingers together as he bludgeoned his face. Hammering down on his face in long, hard rail to his face. His blue gloves became warm with blood, smashing Vera’s fine nose into a flattened pump. He wailed on him, waiting until his body eased, giving into his slaughter.

His mouth bubbled blood, body releasing a quiet, painful primal moan.

Wellick pausing, breathing hard as he loomed over the body, taking in his damage. He was close, close enough if the ER took him. 

His hack doctor would save him. He was a wanted man by many.

“Accept this as a warning. You won’t touch him, you won’t contact him. You’ll be a ghost to his memories,” He rose and sunk another kick into his side. Vera hurled, releasing the contents of his stomach.

He smacked off his surgical gloves, running a hand through his hair as he breathed. Blood pumping.

“There won’t be a second time.”

He strolled off, slamming the door behind him.

Mr Robot memes for @trans-tyrell-wellick part (54/?)

here are two pics of my latest eight pages comics from my F Corp-AU. you can find the next pages on my IG acc - https://www.instagram.com/p/CMvVTDpBqwi/ (please pay attention on the trigger warnings!)  i’m interested in analyzing the dark, sad and unpleasant moments of the show,  which, as I’ve noticed, are not the most favorite things to think about here on tumblr. So I decided not to post the full version here, sorry.  (as always - thanks @mschimotoma for translation!)

Okay I’m a whore for coffee shop AUs can I have Elliot as a barista and Tyrell goes to his coffee shop every morning/as frequently as you want for his coffee ? Cos getting his coffee while Mr S is in the car waiting is the only thing he does by himself all day ? Also can you give Tyrell a Bluetooth earpiece thingy so he sounds like an asshole :) Bonus for a lil Swedish <3

I decided to make this alt. Verse Tyrell and our verse Elliot. It’s a nice change-up from our regularly scheduled program. I think it’s a little different than what you were expecting, but I hope you enjoy it~~

And, we have a sweet softie Tyrell! Who’s as much as an awkward geek as Elliot. 

~~~

Skipping away from work was one of his favorite reprieves. Amongst the long structured days, it felt good to leave the office to get a bit of fresh air.

There was a queer coffee shop a few blocks from the office. Inside, the walls were littered with books stacked high. Shelves arranged by a range of genres to the heart’s content. He especially enjoyed their window display. As it was packed with hanging mini pride flags on the string. Zines carefully picked and put out for display. Queer stories about queer love and trans rights advocacy, representing people of all breaths of life.

For him, it was the addition of plants. Who doesn’t love walking into a mini tropical forest?

Psycho killers. Psycho killers down. They’re the exception.

His favorite genre was the fantasy/adventure section with the caveat of gay romance. It swooped up his heart, amidst the dragon figure and sword clashing, a little bit of love wrapped it all up for him. Bonus points for vivid descriptions! 

Beating back the woes of evil~

They had all his goods!

 He fixed his glasses to his nose as he stepped out of his old outback Subaru. Locking it closed.

He was a regular at the shop. Every few days he would stop by to collect a snack, peruse the line of books when he was looking for something new. It felt good to be seen and happy in such a wonderful place.

***

He stepped up the counter, scanning the chalkboard. “I’ll have a matcha latte with soy milk...and a tossed chicken salad.”

“Will there be anything else?” Elliot asked, thumbing it into the system. 

“And ahh…” His eyes moved to a corner of the menu. “A slice of your bacon and spinach quiche. With a macron.”

“Which flavor?”

His eyes flicked down, taking in the employee before him. His curls black curls tossed to the side, slightly wild and free from his short shaved sides. They framed his delicious lips and striking cheekbones. He could cut ice with that jawline.

And, there was a wonderful little pride flag pinned to the corner of his apron.

He’s new!

 “Chocolate…” He said softly, eyes gleaming in a smile as they rested on him. 

He hadn’t noticed him before. Usually, there was a helm of queer fems running the front. Though, there was that one busboy... 

Alright, this isn’t the time to gush! He’s just a random barista!

“That’ll be 24.89,” The ticket clicked out and he slid him over the paper after he paid. He plucked him a pen that bobbled, unicorn head jiggling as Tyrell signed. Their fingers brushed when he slid back the bill. “Did you just start here? I haven’t seen you before.”

“About a week ago… What’s your name?”

“Hm?”

“For the order?”

“Oh-” He blushed, “Tyrell.” Elliot slicked the name across the cup.

“Do you like it here?”

“It’s alright,” He mumbled, reaching into the case for a slice of quiche. “The people are nice.” Another guest stepped up the board, searching for their order. “It’ll be a few minutes for your food. I’ll bring it over, okay?”

He gave a quick nod and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “Of course,” and crossed the room. He settled into a nook under the hanging baskets in front of the window. It was his favorite spot to be. He would read his naughty books in private, quietly flustered in the best of ways. 

It took some time but eventually, the order came. Elliot slicked a hand through his hair before bringing it over. “Here you are,” He said, setting down the plates. “Do need anything else…?”

Tyrell startled, head shooting out of one of his dirty romance novels. Face flustered, feeling caught red-handed. “Huh? Oh, no, it’s fine!” He gestured, lips still moving. “But…”

Elliot’s eyebrows raised.

Shit! “Um,” He blubbered, trying to find the words to speak. “What’s your name?”

He blinked, holding his gaze. Softening. “It’s Elliot.”

“Elliot! Elliot, that’s nice…” His mind drifted, swaying with the words of his book. “Would… would you like to get coffee sometime? Not like this, not now, but some other time?”

Now, it was the other one’s turn to blush, cracking a smile in surprise. “Yeah, I’d be open to that.”

  A phone blared, buzzing in Wellick’s back pocket. Mr. S blowing him up about something annoying urgent. “Ah- I’m so sorry,” He fished it frantically out of his pocket, blaring in his hand. “I need to get this, I’ll come over when I’m done. Okay?”

Something drummed in Elliot. Maybe it was the light or the sound of his soft voice. But those soft blue eyes, they got him. “I get off in 10, let’s talk then.”

“Min here, [My lord]” He whispered, breathless.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing! Don’t worry about it!”

“From Tyrell’s perspective, he really does love this person. He feels that he gives him the fulfilment that he’s always been looking for in his life.”

— Sam Esmail

here are two pics of my latest eight pages comics from my F Corp-AU. you can find the next pages on my IG acc - https://www.instagram.com/p/CMvVTDpBqwi/ (please pay attention on the trigger warnings!)  i’m interested in analyzing the dark, sad and unpleasant moments of the show,  which, as I’ve noticed, are not the most favorite things to think about here on tumblr. So I decided not to post the full version here, sorry.  (as always - thanks @mschimotoma for translation!)

just wanted to record my sketching process, so made this little art. pls don’t blame me for stealing t-shirt designs xD

one of my old comics for @mschimotoma‘s reverse!AU (also thanks for the translation). yeah in this AU Tyrell is running F-society with Dom

special delivery - two perfectly soft boys just for you~

MR. ROBOT ⌬ 1x01 eps1.0_hellofriend.mov

City sidewalks, busy sidewalks Dressed in holiday style In the air there’s a feeling of Christmas Children laughing, people passing Meeting smile after smile And on every street corner you hear… Silver bells

windmills at sunset - what view could be better?..

Sweet Memories of the Mind

I wanted to expand on the recent Coffee Shop AU prompt I got. So, here it is:

Sweet Memories of the Mind

Warnings: None

Audience: General, M/M

Summary: This is a Coffee Shop AU for the show Mr. Robot. This is a version with reality verse Elliot Alderson (Mastermind) and alternative verse Tyrell Wellick. In S4, we get to see how each character wishes themselves to be. Their true selves, without the chaos and trauma of the real world. I wanted to write a fic that showed the softer side of both characters and what their lives might be.

This was born out of a writing prompt from a Tumblr user: imslimshadey. I wanted to re-write the fic and extend it. So, here we are! And I hope you enjoy this tenderness and heart.

Note: This is complete fluff! It’s really sweet and more developed than my previous version. I hope everyone enjoys it!