#Chalk Boys hcs | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crystallinestars · 5 months

Text

How They React to Your Death

My HCs about how I think the Genshin boys would react to your death. I wanted to write Kaeya too, but ran out of steam.

This month has been terrible to me, so I was in the mood for angst. I don't know how well these turned out, but they were fun to think about.

Characters: Alhaitham, Childe, Heizou, Kaveh, Lyney, Neuvillette, Venti, Wanderer/Scaramouche, and Wriothesley

WARNING:

Reader has death descriptions. Some are more graphic than others, but I don't get into the nitty gritty details.

Spoilers for the backstories of all the mentioned boys.

MAJOR SPOILERS for Act V of the Fontaine Archon quest in Neuvillette's part.

Childe's part contains mention of suicidal thoughts.

Kaveh's and Venti's parts contain alcoholism

🎧 Alhaitham

Despite Alhaitham’s considerable wealth, no amount of money could cure your Eleazar sickness. His money could only buy treatment that prolonged your life a little bit, but ultimately your many years of battling the illness ended when he got news from the doctors that you had passed away in your sleep.

Alhaitham had accepted the news fairly quickly. He knew your death was inevitable, could see you slowly wasting away each time he visited you in the hospital over the past few months. So it was no surprise to him when the day finally came. The other patients and staff thought it strange how Alhaitham had no visible reaction to the news, but some chalked it up to shock when in truth the Scribe was simply accepting of that fact. There was no use denying something that already happened.

When Alhaitham came home that day, the house felt silent and empty. It reminded him of how the house felt when his grandmother passed away when he was younger. The sensations were similar. However, he did not cry over your death. Instead, he carried on his life as normal, or as close to it as he could now that you were no longer a part of what he considered ‘normal’.

At first glance, people thought that Haitham was unaffected by your death. Nothing about him changed. Not his mannerisms, his quality of work, or his expression. He remained the same reserved, stoic Scribe who had no time for trivial nonsense or extra work. He also never talked about you to others aside from confirming their question if you were truly gone. Alhaitham was like a well-oiled machine that worked efficiently like clockwork, keeping up the same even rhythm.

What they don’t see is how he comes home with the expectation of hearing your voice greet him upon entering, only to be faced with a defeating silence that makes his heart sink. They don’t know that Alhaitham wakes up throughout the night, expecting to find you snuggled up next to him in bed the way you used to before your sickness got worse, and you had to be hospitalized. However, you weren’t there no matter how many times he looked towards your side of the bed, and the Scribe could only sigh and try to fall back asleep while ignoring his aching heart.

No one sees how Alhaitham gets too lost in his books in the mornings and accidentally makes two cups of coffee instead of one due to force of habit. Or how, for once, he finds the silence of his house bothersome without your voice and the sounds of your activities resounding within the walls, and it’s enough to distract him from reading. He could be found reading at the House of Daena and Puspa Café more often from then on.

During his afternoon naps, Alhaitham sneaks back home and cradles your favorite blanket to mimic the sensation of holding your soft body in his arms the way he used to when you joined him for naps. He listens to recordings of you talking with him just so he can hear your voice again. He was glad he made the decision to record your voice at the hospital before you became too weak to speak. It gave him the chance to hear you one more time even if the sound of your voice made his chest hurt so much that he occasionally had to stop the recording to collect himself.

Nobody sees how Alhaitham finally picks up the fiction books you recommended him because they were your favorite. He prefers non-fiction, but these books are the last things he has left through which he could connect to your mind and way of thinking. He reads them all cover-to-cover even if he finds the story lacking or the writing not to his taste. He will learn to treasure each and every word because you once did.

What someone might see, as Kaveh did when he moved in with the Scribe, is a bookshelf filled with a few journals, a thick book with an emerald cover, and an assortment of fiction books that exist nowhere else in the house. Alhaitham never talks about these books unless asked, but their well-worn covers are a sign of frequent use, and sure enough, one can catch him reading a rare fiction book during one specific month each year.

🐋 Childe

You went missing after going out to collect some firewood in the woods near Childe’s home. A search party was arranged to find you with Childe in the lead, and he was also the first one to find your remains. Your body had been torn apart, blood and innards splattered across the snow, no doubt the work of some rifthounds. Usually, Childe would relish in such a gory sight, but not this time. Not when it’s your blood and flesh painted in the snow.

The sight leaves him numb. He’s numb when the search party comes to retrieve you, numb when he sees your parents weeping over your gruesome death, and numb when he takes on the duty of exterminating every rifthound he finds around Morepesok.

He wants to cry too, to grieve for you the way he needs, but refrains. He doesn’t want to appear weak and unreliable when his younger siblings mourn and cry over your death. You were like family to them, and your death broke their little hearts to pieces. Childe didn’t want to burden his siblings further by breaking down in front of them. He needed to remain a reliable older brother who could support them through this tough time, even when his own heart bled and he cried in his sleep when he dreamed about you.

Childe’s underlings noted that the Eleventh Harbinger became colder and more irritable after your passing. Any mention of your name would garner the speaker a harsh glare, and if Childe assumed what said person said about you was disrespectful, he didn’t hesitate to start a fight and beat the other person within an inch of their life. He became violent and unhinged, much like how he used to be when he returned from the Abyss as a fourteen-year-old boy.

Childe knew his behavior was irrational, and it pained him to see even his own family fear him due to his violent actions. He felt restless. Spending time at home among your belongings summoned feelings of longing and sadness, but even so, he couldn’t bear to throw anything away. He lived among the ghosts of your existence, however, it drove him mad with grief.

Childe needed an outlet for his emotions, so he took to fighting monsters and other strong opponents. He became even more reckless in battle. If before, the Harbinger sought out strong enemies to test his mettle against them and grow stronger as a result, now he sought out an opponent that would be worthy of taking his life.

Childe didn’t want to abandon his family. He loved them dearly and wanted to see his siblings grow up to be happy and successful people, but life without you felt so hollow. A part of him wanted to return to his family, but the sense of his family feeling incomplete never left him. You were just as much of a family to him as his siblings and parents were. He had plans to start his own family with you. But now… now, a part of him yearns to reunite with you in the afterlife. He promised he would stay by your side no matter what, and Ajax is not one to break his promises.

🔍 Heizou

Heizou was one of the first to hear about your stabbing that occurred in an Inazuman alleyway late that evening. You were rushed to a doctor to have your wound treated, but the robber who attacked you hit a vital area. Your blood loss was colossal, and it wasn’t long after arriving at the doctor’s that you succumbed to your injury.

To Heizou, the news brought on a sense of deja vu. He’s already lost a friend to crime in the past, and now he lost you to crime, too. The knowledge made him furious and heartbroken. He was angry at the robber for stabbing you just so he could steal some money that you didn’t want to part with, and he was angry at himself for failing to prevent this. After his friend passed away, Heizou swore to nip crime in the bud by discouraging criminals from committing crimes with the threat that he would find and capture them no matter what without fail. But what good did his resolve do if you still died because of an armed robber?

The heartache and guilt he felt ate away at him as the memory of your ashen face during your last few moments haunted him. He lost you. Never again would he get to spend time with you and make you laugh, kiss and hug you, or tell you he loved you.

His anger drove him to capture the murderer in record time, but hearing the criminal’s subsequent sentence for theft and murder didn’t comfort the detective. No amount of jail time would ever atone for the loss of your life.

After that day, Heizou lost his playful demeanor, becoming somber and reserved. He threw himself into his work, feeling pressured to capture as many criminals as he could in as little time as possible. However, his grief and exhaustion caused his mind to dull and make mistakes while investigating clues. It got to the point where Kujou Sara had to forcibly send him on vacation so he could take a break and properly process your death.

Despite his protests, Heizou knew he wasn’t much use in his current state, so he took this free time to visit your family and mourn together with them. He apologized for not doing a better job of protecting you, fully expecting your parents to lay blame on him for not protecting their child. To his surprise, your parents didn’t blame him at all. They even thanked him for catching the murderer and helping them to feel a little more at peace. Heizou’s interaction with your family helped him feel a tiny bit less guilty about your death.

The experience left him feeling a little less broken, so in the following days he sorted through your belongings in your shared home. He packed away some items to return to your parents, some things he put in storage, and others he gave away that he remembered you wanting to get rid of. A few of your items he kept for himself, one of which was a scarf you mentioned you bought because it was the same shade of green as his eyes which reminded you of him.

Heizou wore your scarf as a keepsake and good luck charm and would hardly be seen without it when he finally came back to work. What once served as your reminder of him, now served as his reminder of you, the person he loved with his whole being. But with the memories of you came the reminder of how you died. Though the memory was painful, it helped Heizou work up the will to keep pursuing his goal of eradicating crime. Even when the case was extremely tough with conflicting clues, your scarf would remind him to not give up, to not let another incident like yours happen again, and Heizou would persevere. He would continue to persevere no matter how long it took because he didn’t want innocent lives like yours to be snatched away so cruelly. Maybe one day, he will see you in the afterlife and proudly tell you all about how he achieved his dream. Until then, he will work hard to be worthy of the title of Inazuma’s best detective.

🍷 Kaveh

Kaveh had a lot of work to do. He was saddled with creating drafts for another large project while also trying to work on the commission for constructing a library in Aaru village for the children. Wanting to help alleviate his burden, you offered to take the finished drafts over to Aaru village yourself so he could focus on finishing up work for his other project. Kaveh tried to object, saying you really didn’t need to trouble yourself on his behalf, but you insisted, expressing your desire to help him finish his work sooner so the two of you could spend more time together again. After some deliberation, he let you go to the village by yourself, confident that you could make the trip since you accompanied him there several times before.

A few days later, Kaveh received news that you had died on your return trip from the desert. When he heard the cause of your death, his stomach roiled. You perished in quicksand just like his father. You died doing something for his sake, just like his father did.

Whatever future plans he was building together with you, whatever progress you made in helping him slowly heal from his trauma, it all came crashing down around him. Your death reopened old wounds Kaveh was only starting to heal from, as well as left new scars that tormented him every waking moment.

The first few weeks, Kaveh couldn’t stand to be in your shared home. It was full of memories of you, and each and every one of your belongings would stab at his heart like a blade. Moreover, the house felt so silent without you around. It reminded him of when his mother left for Fontaine, leaving him alone in a house too big for only him to live in. Now, he was reliving that moment all over again, but it was worse this time because, unlike his mother, he would never see you again.

Kaveh also couldn’t stand to look inside his sketchbooks. The pages were covered in various sketches of you, and looking at them only made the anguish and guilt grow in him tenfold. He blamed himself for your death, attributing it to being his fault just like he attributes his father’s death as his fault too. No matter what anyone says to console him, he will never stop believing it’s all his fault.

Fueled by guilt and self-loathing, Kaveh spent several weeks visiting Lambad’s tavern practically every day. One could even say he lived there since the architect seldom went home. He used what little money he had to buy alcohol, especially of the stronger kind. He wanted to numb the pain in his heart and to pretend that you weren’t really gone from this world. The alcohol helped to muddle his mind until his intoxicated brain conjured happy memories of you together, and Kaveh would mumble your name in a drunken haze. Other times it didn’t help, and Alhaitham, Cyno, or Tighnari could often find a drunk Kaveh quietly crying while slumped over a table and trying their best to drag him home while listening to his drunken babble of self-loathing and regret.

It will take a long time for Kaveh to feel okay again, and even then, he will never be the same optimistic and cheerful person he used to be. You were his muse, the one who made him feel like maybe he was deserving of love after all. But with you gone, he lost his creative spark. His designs no longer held the same extravagant and artistic flair they used to. Now, they’re more tame by comparison. With your passing, you took with you the little bit of joy he felt towards the world, and it seemed more bleak than it used to be when he was with you.

Kaveh refused to seek out love after your death. He’s lost too many people he held dear and has been left alone over and over again. The pain of being left behind and of feeling like he will only bring misfortune to those he cares about, made him seal off his heart. He doesn’t want to let people close to him like that again, and neither does he want to replace you. You were, and still are, very special to him.

Despite numerous years going by after your passing, Kaveh never forgot you, and he didn’t want your memory to be forgotten either. He built an art school and dedicated it to you in honor of being the one who inspired him so much in his creative endeavors. He hopes that your name will live on and continue to inspire future generations of artists long after he is gone from the world.

🎩 Lyney Having grown up in the House of the Hearth with Lyney and Lynette, the twins were practically like family to you. Though admittedly, Lyney and you developed romantic ties rather than familial ones the more you got to know each other. It was no surprise to anyone when the two of you became a couple, and Lynette even encouraged it.

Being a member of the Fatui, you were often sent out on dangerous missions to infiltrate enemy territory and report your findings back to Arlecchino. You were good at your job and had major successfully completed missions under your belt, but even the best slip up sometimes. After infiltrating enemy headquarters, you regularly reported your findings back to the House, however, one day the correspondence stopped. You went completely silent. The thought of you being caught immediately crossed Lyney’s mind, but he was hopeful that as an experienced agent, you would manage to find a way out somehow. You always have in the past, and after having worked together with you during joint missions, he saw first-hand how capable you were. To pass the time, he focused on polishing a magic trick he wanted to show you upon your return.

Days go by, and just as the magician is about to lose his patience and run off to try and find you, news about your body washing up on a riverbank reaches his ears. The heartbreak Lyney experiences upon hearing the news is indescribable. He felt lost, disoriented, and anguished. A part of him refused to believe the facts, but after witnessing the gruesome sight of your corpse, he had no choice but to face reality.

You were dead.

Lyney wondered at length about the cause of your death, and while his own guesses made his stomach knot, the autopsy report he read a few days later made him livid. Numerous torture and abuse marks were found on your body. It seemed that the enemy had captured and tortured you, hoping to force you to spill some of the Fatui’s secrets. Judging by the severity of the most recent wounds, you must have kept quiet because more brutal torture methods were used on you until the enemy figured out they wouldn’t get anything out of you, and disposed of you. Lyney knew how loyal you were to your family. You would never betray them even at the cost of your own life, but in that moment, he really wished you would have treasured your life more. Maybe then you could have survived. Maybe then he would have had the chance to hold you in his arms and tell you he missed you while you were gone. Maybe he would have had an opportunity to show off the magic trick he created specifically for your eyes only. But now, he’ll continue to miss you until the day death comes for him too. Lyney’s initial reaction upon hearing of your torture is overwhelming fury. Lynette had to hold him back from recklessly running off to take revenge against the enemy. It took a lot of reasoning on her part, but eventually, her brother calmed down.

Once his bout of anger passed, Lyney broke down. Lynette didn’t hide her own tears as she held her brother in her arms while he cried. The siblings both missed you dearly and mourned your loss, but Lyney took your death especially hard. He felt broken. One of his most precious people was taken from him in such a cruel manner, and the mere thought of how you must have spent your last few waking hours made him feel horrible.

He was anguished and angry, and the potent concoction of negative emotions weighed down on his heart and mind. Gone was his cheerful smile and outgoing attitude, replaced with a cold and somber frown. His calculative side took center stage. Though his initial burst of outrage passed, he wouldn’t give up on his desire for revenge until the act had been carried out. Aside from the twins, Arlecchino also refused to take your death lying down. You were her precious child, someone she put in a lot of love and effort to raise, and this transgression angered her as much as it angered Lyney. Together with Arlecchino, Lyney and Lynette infiltrate enemy headquarters and make every person a part of that organization pay. The magician ensures that the perpetrators experience the same pain you went through during your torture, and by the time they’re done, not a soul is left alive.

Even after exacting revenge, Lyney barely feels a smidge better. Though your captors have been neutralized and won’t hurt anyone the way they hurt you ever again, it doesn’t satisfy Lyney. At the end of the day, all he wants is to have you back in his life. He consoles himself with pieces of your clothing. Your clothes smelled like you, and Lyney hugged one of your items every night, breathing in your scent and soaking the material with his tears as he quietly cried. It takes a long time for Lyney to get himself together and act like himself again. Though he could easily put on a fake smile for his audience, his heart still aches inside. He misses you no matter how many months go by, and Lynette has her hands full comforting him when he breaks down at night and cries about how much he wants to see you. Lyney would have had an easier time accepting your death if you had passed away more peacefully, but knowing you were tortured to death will forever haunt him.

Once he feels more like himself, Lyney incorporates the magic trick he originally wanted to show you upon your return into his magic shows. He only performs it during special occasions so it would leave a great spectacle upon his audience. It was once made to awe you, but now it awes his audience, and a part of him feels some semblance of catharsis in knowing he could inspire others to feel the same joy you made him feel using just this trick. At times like these, Lyney feels as if a part of you was still there with him, enjoying the show he secretly dedicates in your honor.

⚖️ Neuvillette

You were visiting your friend Navia in Poisson, when the Primordial Sea flooded the area and caused a great catastrophe that took the lives of many of its residents. Neuvillette was aware you were in Poisson when the disaster struck, and he tried to get there as quickly as he could to check on you. He would have arrived there immediately were it not for the pressing matters he had to settle prior. He hoped the Traveler and Paimon would find you and keep you safe since they knew you were the Iudex’s beloved.

When he finally made it to Poisson, to his morbid surprise, he found neither you nor Navia, but some Fatui members helping to mitigate the damage. When he asked about your whereabouts, he was told that nobody had seen you. Immediately, his thoughts ventured to the worst scenario, but he refused to believe in his fears until he could get confirmation. He held out hope that you were alright, and went in pursuit of Navia and the Traveler, hoping that maybe you were with them, or they knew what happened to you.

It wasn’t until he was saving Navia from getting dissolved in the Primordial Sea water, did he catch a glimpse of your face. You were trying to protect Navia from certain death, along with Silver and Meluse. At the time he was too anxious about saving Navia to fully register the implication, but an unsettling thought sprang in his mind that maybe you really were— No, he didn’t want to accept it.

When Navia regained consciousness, Neuvillette asked her about your whereabouts. Her answer pierced through him like an ice-cold lance. With tears in her eyes, Navia recounted how you were helping Silver and Meluse rescue the residents of Poisson when the Primordial Sea flooded in, and how she saw your body dissolve in the water along with her loyal subordinates with her own eyes. The news settled in Neuvillette’s stomach like a boulder, causing it to sink and make him feel nauseous. Dread filled him, but he could only muster a quiet “I see…” and stare off into the distance. He felt crushing sadness, but he wasn’t given time to properly process his emotions and your death until he managed to make it out of the ruins.

That evening, Fontaine was hit by a torrential downpour that lasted several days. The rain fell in heavy sheets, flooding the streets and urging most of the citizens to seek shelter in their homes. Only the Chief Justice had the gall to stand outside and let the rain seep and soak through his clothes.

Neuvillette let the water droplets cascade down his face, imitating the tears he wished to shed as the realization that he would never see you again settled in. It was strange. Though he was on land, each waking moment he was pursued by a constant feeling of drowning. His chest felt heavy as if burdened by a great weight that made each breath he took feel like a herculean task.

Neuvillette felt a lot of emotions he couldn’t find the words for. He was frustrated and angry that innocent civilians had died in the flood because nothing was done to prevent it. So many people died. You died. If nothing else, he wanted to get justice for your and the others’ deaths.

However, Furina refused to provide answers to his questions despite his probing and insistence that now was not the time to keep secrets that could potentially help prevent an even greater catastrophe. That was when he turned to seeking aid from his companions, in the hopes that Fontaine could still be saved. Neuvillette lost and gained many things in those few days. The citizens of Fontaine were freed of their curse, and Neuvillette had obtained a position of complete authority, however, it all came at the cost of the lives of innocent civilians, Focalors’s life, Furina’s mental state, and… your life. Those were great prices to pay, and Neuvillette mourned each and every sacrifice.

Now that he had some time to himself to process his feelings, Neuvillette recognized that what he felt was grief and longing. He wanted to see you at least one more time, to feel you in his arms again. To have you taken from him so suddenly was too painful. He never got to tell you one last ‘I love you’, and he could only hope that his words reach you wherever your consciousness might be now. Fontaine will see frequent rainfall in the coming months. It won’t be easy for Neuvillette to get over your death, and some part of him will always ache and yearn to see you again. But one thing he can do is strengthen his resolve to make Fontaine into a nation that both you and Focalors would be proud of. A nation where tragedies like these will never happen again.

🍃 Venti

Venti liked to climb up on high places like his statue in front of the Favonius church, the rooftop of the Cat’s Tail, or the great tree at Windrise. Today, you found him high up in the tree, absentmindedly strumming a new tune on his lyre. Wanting to surprise the bard, you tried your best to climb the tree as quietly as you could, but right as you were about to pop up and surprise him, the branch you were on snapped, and with a heart-stopping shriek, you plummeted down to the ground.

Your scream alerted Venti. He felt your presence before you even started climbing the tree, but he failed to foresee the danger until it was too late. He didn’t react fast enough to summon a gust of wind to safely lower you down. The sickening crunch of your skull hitting the ground made his stomach roil, and for a brief moment he felt as if the blood in his veins turned to ice. He felt frozen in place.

Snapping out of his momentary stupor, Venti rushed to your side to check on you, but the enormous pool of blood blooming around your lifeless body made him throw up.

Not again. He lost someone he loved once more. The painful emotions of losing you triggered a cascade of memories of seeing the broken body of that one boy he called a friend thousands of years ago. The same boy whose face he now wore as a way of honoring his memory and giving him an opportunity to live out his dreams of freedom through Venti.

Venti felt that same feeling of heavy emptiness once again as he cradled your lifeless body in his arms, your blood smearing the white sleeves of his shirt. One of the bard’s hands cradled your still-warm cheek, and he wept. To have you taken away so easily through such a small accident… it was too much.

Venti didn’t attend your funeral. He couldn’t bear to. However, he forced himself to watch from a distance as your loved ones gathered around your grave. He fully empathized with their grief.

In the following days, one could often find Venti at a tavern. He started with Angel’s Share, but after consecutive days of heavy drinking and drunken ramblings about how remorseful he felt and how you deserved better, Diluc put a stop to Venti’s visits. The Anemo Archon wasn’t getting any better from drinking himself into a stupor until he could barely hold himself upright. It was heartbreaking to see.

Even after being banned from the Angel’s Share, Venti would visit other taverns in the city and rinse and repeat. He so badly wanted to numb the pain in his heart and forget the awful memory of your lifeless body. Only after several bans did Venti finally stop coming to the city altogether. He disappeared for a while, and nobody was able to find him. Only after many weeks did the bard suddenly pop up in the town square with his lyre in hand.

During his absence, Venti wrote a few songs as a way to cope with his grief, and after a while, finally felt well enough to play them. As a bard, he was well-known in Mondstadt for playing cheerful and beautiful tunes, but this time his melodies were melancholic, even sad. They listened to him sing about a love he can no longer say ‘I love you’ to anymore, someone he can no longer forge new memories with and can only carry on in his heart as a memory. The music he played captured the attention of every member of the audience and touched their hearts so deeply that they, too, could feel the sorrow the bard was trying to convey through his melodies. His pain became their pain, too. The heartache was so profound, so raw and crippling, that many people couldn’t hold back from crying.

Venti wasn’t playing the songs to earn money or share his sadness with others. He was playing them for you. He hoped that his feelings would reach you wherever you were and that your memory wouldn’t fade away even if he remained the last person alive who knew of your existence. His songs will keep your memory alive in the hearts of the Mondstadt citizens, never to be forgotten.

☂️ Wanderer

You have been fighting chronic sickness for months, but despite the treatments, each week you seemed to get worse and worse. Neither the doctors of Sumeru nor even Nahida herself could figure out a cure for your condition. You were bedridden with barely any strength to move. Wanderer took responsibility for nursing you back to health by helping you get to places you needed, cooking all your meals and feeding you, as well as getting your medicine and administering it.

Despite his efforts, you could tell you wouldn’t last long. While you still had the strength to talk, you apologized to him for being forced to part from him.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed, with a frown pulling at his lips. “Rather than talk about such nonsense, use that energy to get better instead.”

He didn’t want to face the facts, to accept the reality that you could disappear from his life. But then came a day where you no longer opened your eyes when he called your name, nor stirred when he tried to shake you awake. Your body was cold and stiff and so unlike what he was used to seeing you as. The life you possessed was gone in all senses of the word.

Something in Wanderer snapped that day. Falling to his knees, he let out a guttural scream that tore at his vocal cords. He unleashed a wail that carried all the anguish and misery he’d been keeping bottled up inside for hundreds of years. He’s lost so many people he cared for in the past. Each time he met someone he grew attached to, fate would always tear them away from him, and you were no exception.

He cried bitter tears in the privacy of your shared home, cursing Fate for doing this to him over and over again. He was angry and heartbroken. Though he lacked a real heart, the sensation in his chest felt like something inside him broke into a million tiny fragments. As if sharp needles pierced through his non-existent heart and caused him to scream until he lost his voice.

He wanted revenge, but how can one get vengeance against Fate itself?

You were gone, so cruelly torn away from his side despite his best efforts to keep you alive. You were the little ray of light that never gave up on him no matter how cold he was towards you or how much he pushed you away, and helped him heal little by little. You accepted him in his entirety and wormed your way into his non-existent heart, so how dare Fate mock him like this? Wanderer truly felt as if Fate was purposely torturing him by taking away all those whom he held dear.

Helpless and anguished, Wanderer reverted to the days when he used to be Scaramouche, the sixth of the Fatui Harbingers who was infamous for his callousness and mercilessness. His roiling emotions spurred him to repeat these spiteful acts against anyone who got in his way. It was the only way he knew of how to vent these overwhelming emotions that made him feel like he was choking on his grief.

It took Nahida’s interference to calm him down and get through to him that you wouldn’t want him to be like this. The Wanderer you fell in love with wasn’t such a hateful person driven by negative emotions, and though he was loathe to admit it, the God of Wisdom was right.

Having quelled the initial burst of wounded anger, Wanderer would think more clearly about what he should do from now on. He could keep all your items, photographs, and letters, but they would never replace you, only help preserve some of the memories attached to them, which a puppet like him had no need for. He won’t forget even the smallest thing about you, not as long as he’s alive.

Wanderer becomes a regular visitor of your grave, taking care of it so your name won’t be erased from the gravestone by time too quickly. He would frequently bring your favorite foods and flowers and place them in front of your grave, before taking a seat next to it and staring off into the distance without saying a word. He did this mostly at night so he could stargaze, just like how you both used to when you were alive.

Even centuries later, when everyone who knew you took their memories of you to their graves, Wanderer will remain to watch over your final resting place, unwavering in his devotion.

🐺 Wriothesley

You accompanied Wriothesley on another one of his swims out in the open waters surrounding the Fortress. Since you weren’t a vision holder, you had to wear a diving suit to breathe, unlike your beloved Duke. You’ve had these private little swim dates a few times before, so your guard was down when you swam through some jagged areas of the Fortress’s scaffolding. The shoulder of your diving suit caught on a sharp edge of metal and tore a hole in it. The tear was fairly large, and you panicked when you felt water rush inside your suit. Wriothesley was quick to freeze the hole and pull you up to the surface to get the suit off of you, but by the time he did, it was too late. You had inhaled too much water and were unresponsive. Wriothesley tried to keep his anxiety at bay and utilized all the CPR knowledge he learned from Sigewinne to try and save your life. He breathed air into your lungs and did chest compressions with enough force to hear your ribs crack, but even after 30 agonizing minutes of trying, you wouldn’t wake up.

Wriothesley had no choice but to accept the fact you died. Wriothesley doesn’t cry for you. He’s no stranger to death. His exposure to it in his younger years made him all too aware of how easy it is to die, and that death came for all without exception. As a result, he was able to accept your death a little easier than most, but it doesn’t mean he made peace with it. The staff and inmates at the Fortress all said Wriothesley looked the same as usual even after your death. He kept up his laidback yet intimidating demeanor and busied himself with the variety of work someone in his position was required to take care of. Only Sigewinne could tell that Wriothesley was not alright despite all the strained smiles he gave everyone. The bags under his eyes grew more prominent by the day, a clear indicator he wasn’t sleeping well. She saw how he threw himself into his work, barely taking any time to rest properly, as if wanting to keep his mind busy from the horrible memory of seeing your corpse. Though he tried to mask it, in truth, your death affected Wriothesley deeply. He had frequent nightmares about watching you drown and being unable to save you, and they would keep him up at night. He usually awoke in a cold sweat, his heart pounding from intense panic and dread until his mind cleared, only to be replaced with a stone-cold reality that made the feelings of guilt come rushing back. Out of habit, he turns to your side of the bed to seek comfort in your presence but seeing it cold and empty served as yet another harsh reminder that you were gone. Wriothesley can’t sleep after his nightmares, so he opts to work out or fuss over his gauntlets to distract himself from his feelings. It takes all his self-control to keep a lid on his emotions and not become the angry, irritable mess he knows he will be if he’s not careful.

When he makes tea, Wriothesley accidentally makes two cups out of habit. One for you and one for him. Even weeks after your passing, it was still a difficult habit to break. For the first while, Wriothesley would even stop drinking your favorite tea blend because it reminded him of you. Rather than enjoy the flavor, all he tastes is bile in his throat. The flavor of your favorite tea makes him nauseous because it makes him think about how you will never taste this again or have another tea date in his office.

There was one occasion when he tried to drink your tea shortly after your death. He thought maybe the flavor would remind him of the happy times he shared with you, but all it resulted in was a broken teacup from the force of his grip, and Sigewinne fussing over his cuts and burns. He didn’t drink your favorite blend for a long time after that, only being able to find enjoyment in it again many years later when the startlingly clear memory of your death didn’t hurt him as much. Wriothesley felt lonely without you. You were the friend and confidant he told his deepest and darkest secrets about his past, the comfort he sought after a difficult day, and the soothing presence that made him feel accepted for who he was without all the embellished titles. But after your passing, the Fortress of Meropide seemed cold and gloomy, as if devoid of the warmth it once had that made him call it home. It was as if your death snuffed out the little ray of warm sunshine he felt when spending time with you.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #heizou x reader #shikanoin heizou x reader #heizou shikanoin x reader #kaveh x reader #lyney x reader #neuvillette x reader #venti x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wriothesley x reader #For some reason Lyney's part is the longest

3K notes · View notes

ghouljams · 6 months

Note

You’ve made allusions to an android AU, may I venture a hc?

König (my beloved) is the most likely out of all of the guys to just. Literally not have a face. This boy was built exclusively for heavy combat - he’s probably got five cameras for eyes on a composite ceramic face. There is no synthskin. Briareos from APPLESEED vibes.

OK Android au is a Ghost au because that's my husband. I love the idea of König as a heavy duty mech. Let's run through what my thoughts on the au are and then never speak of it again

So Ghost as an android. Military grade, top of the line. I mean literally irreplaceable, no one knows how they made him, where he came from, or how he's able to think and do the things he does. It's almost unbelievable. You, the 141's mechanic, don't believe it. You've fixed up plenty of androids, you'd rerouted circuit boards and rewritten enough code to know that Ghost should not be doing the things he's doing. You think he's thinking. He shouldn't be thinking. Not the way he seems to be, at least.

Androids think, to a certain degree, but artificial intelligence is... well it's not exactly real. It's pattern recognition and computers running simulations. It's math. Complicated math, but still math. Ghost isn't doing math, he's making decisions. The 141 lets him out, free range, in the field and trusts him to think and act within the parameters- Fuck do they even set parameters for him?

He comes to see you the same way the men go to see the doctor. Reluctantly. Another thing he shouldn't be doing, that he's hiding from the rest of the unit, feeling. That's what first tipped you off that he was thinking, the way he lingered in your doorway when other androids would be marched in by their COs. Ghost stood in the door to your workshop and hesitated, like he didn't want to see you, or was hoping you wouldn't be in. When you'd made eye contact with his cameras, the red glow behind sculpted bone, he'd marched right in and sat down in front of your work bench.

"Need some maintenance," He's said, the transmitters for his voice box warm and rumbling behind the slight static. You'd never heard false vocal cords like that.

He's a wonder of mechanics. His back plate is dented, the synth-skin charred and bullet ridden, and when you take too long poking around trying to figure out how to get it off he reaches back and presses a button at the top of his spine. The black composite plates lining his spine -what a human would call a spine- release with a hiss and the back plates on either side pop up with a quiet click. You could spend hours looking at the motors running his muscles, like cogs in a clock. They spin silently, just on the edge of warm when you touch them, expanding his synthetic muscles almost like he's breathing. A cooling system you assume, or exhaust exchange. You grab a few tools from your bench and tug your safety goggles on to get started.

It's strange, you feel like a proper doctor working on him. Ghost sits like a rock for you, but he's sitting, he's active. You glance at his face like you'll catch him flinching away from the laser you drag against powder burns, or think he'll roll his shoulder to test the fit when you tighten one of the millions of tiny screws. You'll have to come up with something new to use on the tight coils of synthetic muscle he has. You've never seen anything like it, you'll need something custom if he comes in with anything bigger than a bullet wound. He's patient as you reshape his back plate, banging the dent out and soldering a patch over the hole.

"You'll need a new one of these," You tell him. He makes a noise almost like a hum, you chalk it up to motors whirring. Strange when they'd been so quiet before.

"Battle scars," He jokes, and you freeze, "That's what Soap calls them." He covers, but- He made a joke. He's covering, it's a good cover, but- He made a joke. Androids don't make jokes, they approximate jokes.

You're still thinking about it when he leaves. You're a good mechanic, a great one, but you can't explain Ghost away as subroutines and ai. You stare down at your diagnostic report, your repair report. You hesitate and mark "functioning optimally" before jotting down the repairs you made. It's probably nothing. No reason to snitch on the 141's prized android just because you're a little spooked.

446 notes · View notes

thegnomelord · 6 months

Note

sof and cute hcs of eldritch reader trying to learn how to people (and maybe some raunchy ones about learning how human "mating" works) hhhhnnnngggh

Imagine Learning To Be Human

CW: SFW and NSFW First TF141 with SFW, then NSFW headcannons, sexting, masturbation, sex toys, morning after (no sex), sexual nudity, nonsexual nudity, implied poly141. GN reader, 500-900 words for each blurb, so somewhere around 5.5k words. Imma be quiet for the next week or so as I prepare for an exam so I'm feeding ya'll :Dd

Imagine SOAP— It's safe to say you're not the best with expressing what you think, especially not in this hollowed out corpse a tiny fraction of your consciousness inhabits. The more you try, the less human your attempts come out, only remembering that humans don't bend that way or don't do something after you've done it. You find yourself gravitating to Soap because he is the opposite of you, so open and responsive like an open book.

Imagine; observing Soap as he tries to piece together the fragments of a bomb, muttering curses under his breath as if the object had just called football 'soccer'. He's so concentrated he forgets the rest of the world exists, oblivious to you sitting across from him. But that's not a problem as it gives you a chance to watch and try to mimic what his face does; the slight hint of teeth as he nibbles on his lip, the furrow of his brows, the tenseness of his jaw pulling on his throat muscles…

You try to mimic every emotion he goes through as he tries and fails and succeeds and fails again to fit the pieces together like a jigsaw, but the hardest one to do is that smile of his. For some reason you just can't get it right, lips pulling back too far, teeth too much on display and brows too furrowed so you end up looking like an old savage.

Then as if to spite you, Soap looks up at you and immediately snorts. "What're yea doin' there Bonnie?" He coughingly laughs as your facial features return to your statue like state.

"Trying to look like you." You huff; at least you can do that correctly.

"Oh, look strapping don't I?" He snorts, doing what Ghost calls 'fishing for compliments' (though you're unsure how one can fish for abstract ideas).

"No more than the rest." You shrug and see him roll his eyes, though the corners of his lips are still quirked up, a hint of teeth on display and vestiges of dimples framing his mouth. "How do I do that?" You ask and motion to his face.

"Do what? Smile?" You snorts, already beckoning you over like you're a dog. "It's easy."

You lean across the table, tilting your head to indicate confusion but leaving your face a blank canvas. It takes all of your presence of mind not to give an earth shattering purr when his hands cup your jaw, distant stars quivering as his blunt nails scratch at your throat for a blissful second.

"Here," His thumbs settle at both corners of your lips, putting gentle pressure until he pushes the flesh back and up in a way that's natural to the skin suit but not you. "There yea go." He grins and pulls his thumbs away after a few moments, grinning when you hold the expression.

"Now yea're as dashing as me." He chuckles and you two must look like utter buffoons just grinning at one another; you wouldn't have it any other way.

Imagine GAZ — You're not exactly alive, technically you're the antithesis to life and existence, so to you, simple rules like eating or sleeping are no more than chalk guidelines after a rainstorm. Gaz doesn't subscribe to this idea, he's always trying to get you to indulge in these human comforts and you always allow him, even if it does include eating more things in a week than most of your kin have consumed in a millennia, if that.

Imagine; wandering the halls on a lazy Sunday morning, no drills to run or missions to prep for, and being drawn to the communal kitchen by the sound of boiling water and banding pans. You find Gaz cooking breakfast for the boys; he's the only one who can cook (according to him) seeing as Price seasons his food with hope, Ghost burns everything into coal and Soap's not allowed into the kitchen after he'd tried to make tea in the microwave (which Gaz had later asked you to exorcise).

"Mornin'." Kyle yawns and smiles at you, dressed in shorts and one of your 'lost' shirts. You do your best to replicate his expression. "Help me, yeah?" He asks and nods his head at what he's cooking.

Your expression falls back to neutral. "You'll need to show me how." You admit as you get next to him.

"Not a problem," He chuckles as he shifts behind you, pressing his chest flush with your back with his hands hovering over yours. You feel his warmth when he rests his head on your shoulder, his hands firm and steady as he shows you how to chop tomatoes and sausages, how to hold the knife correctly and pulling your fingers back when the blade draws too close to the flesh, talking you through it until you can do it on your own.

After that he leaves you to your task as he almost dances around the kitchen, stirring a pot here then putting the kettle on there and so many more little things while you remain where you are because you, by nature, are slow; to adapt, to age, to change.

But you do it for him.

"Those look great." He grins when you're done and then herds you in front of the cooking pans, and you're a little apprehensive about the bubbling oil when he dumps what you'd cut up into the pan. But his warmth is at your back again, steady hands guiding you on how to cook the food without burning your skin and leaving you to it when you catch on.

Then you feel a tug on your shirt, his presence once again next to you, but this time he's holding a piece of sausage on the end of a fork, a hand beneath it so it doesn't drop, "Hey, taste this for me."

You contemplate arguing you can't actually taste food the same way he does, but he gives you a look that has you letting him feed you. Though it tastes no different from everything else, from his hand it may as well be sweeter than ambrosia.

"Tastes good." The way he brightens up at your words makes the food only taste sweeter.

Imagine GHOST —You and him are similar in some ways, you both prefer to stick to what you know, who you know. It's harder for you to contain what you are inside your flesh body when there is so much life around you that every additional heartbeat pulls at the edge of your cold existence. So you stick to close to the people who's warmth has grown so familiar it's indistinguishable from the burning starts making up your real body.

Imagine; attending a celebration held by both TF141 and Los Vaqueros after a mission gone well, loud music and lewd lyrics blaring in your ears as men drink like teenagers at their first frat party. You're in a more secluded part of the bar next to Ghost, both of you nursing drinks while you watch the rest act like fools.

You're a little confused when you see Gaz and Soap move in a strange way, grinding against one another and pressed so close you'd think they're trying to mate, their hands roaming the other's body so roughly you're surprised no pieces of clothing come flying your way.

"Got a free show for my drink." Ghost chuckles next to you.

"What are they doing?" You finally ask when you can't contain your curiosity.

"Dancing." He answers and swallows the last inch of booze in his cup, setting it down on the bar. "For fun." He adds, already expecting the line of questioning, as if that's supposed to make you understand.

"They just look like they're trying to mate." You point out, receiving a long sigh in return.

"How 'bout I just show you." Before you can say anything he nicks the cup of untouched alcohol in your hand and swallows it all down in one go, putting the empty cup next to his before grabbing you by the arm and pulling you outside through the back entrance. You go along with him, but you're confused when you catch Soap's eyes and he wolf whistles at the two of you.

The world outside is calmer than the busy bar, the air much colder; closer to what you are. You turn to him once he lets you go, tilting your head and furrowing your brow to convey confusion. "So…what do I do?"

"Just follow my lead." A gravely chuckle escapes Simon as he closes the distance between you two, his rough hands settling on your waist as he begins to slowly rock both of your bodies along with the music, though his movements are more contained than what you'd seen, a steady push and pull compelling you to follow him.

"Why is this different than what Soap and Gaz were doing?" You ask, clutching his shoulders in return, your forehead almost resting on his chest as you look at your feet so you don't step on his toes.

You feel his chest vibrate as he chuckles, "They set a low bar." He rumbles and his hand moves to your jaw, tilting your head up so you two lock eyes, the intensity in his brown irises drowning out the sounds of the bar. "Eyes on me."

You nod. Your eyes stay firmly on him as you sway together to a tune he hums, finding a common ground in the way your cold and his heat mixes together. Above you millions of your eyes peer down at him, for as vast as you are, for this moment your attention is on him.

Imagine PRICE — He can tell how tired you are, not physically but mentally; having to communicate and understand people without the use of a mental link, when even the most complex ideas can be conveyed easily, was starting to fray the edges of your control over your human body. He decided to do something about it.

Imagine; Price taking you and the boys fishing to a remote cabin next to a lake. Knowing you don't sleep he pulls you out by the lake at the ass crack of dawn, having you watch as he sits down on the dock, his pants pulled up to his knees so he can dip his feet in the water while he sets up the fishing rods.

"What are we doing?" You ask but follow his example and sit next to him, the cool water of the lake similar enough to the cold abyss your true body resides to calm your nerves, though you're unsure of what to do when he gives you the fishing rod.

"Fishing." He says as he shows you how to cast out the line. "You look like you need it."

You don't argue with him and just try focusing on fishing, letting him teach you how to watch the line to see when something takes the bait and when to reel it in. You’re unsuccessful your first few attempts, and you have half the mind to just jump in and wrangle the fish in the lake with liquid abyss, but he stops you.

"Catching isn't the point." He says as he smokes his cigar while he takes an old boot off your hook. "It's about relaxing, the fish are just a bonus."

You let out a low sound that vibrates the water, but you settle next to him and cast out the line again. You don’t know how long you sit there next to him, your sides touching with the fishing rod sitting loosely in your hands. After some time you manage to yank out your first fish, and you certainly don't gloat when you pull a few more fish out of the lake while he only pulls out seaweed, but the look of pride in his eyes makes it even better.

Any prospects of catching any more fish are dashed when Gaz and Soap wake up and take running jumps into the lake, scaring all the fish with their splashing. "Like school boys." Price remarks as Ghost comes up to you both, offering beers as he sits down on your other side.

"Summer vacation, captain." Ghost says and slips into the water, and you realize this is calming; in the way you haven't felt before, doing something familiar like watching Soap and Gaz trying to dunk each other in the water but feeling like you’re right there with them, laughing alongside them when Ghost scares the shit out of them by lunging out of the water.

“See sweetheart? ‘S not hard.” Price hums, adjusting his hat though his shoulders are already reddened from sunburns. He offers you his cigar and you accept it, breathing in the nicotine and smoke despite not having lungs or a circulatory system to be affected by it, before you give it back. “Taking it easy is good for you.”

You nod your head, content to sit next to him until something tugs on the line of your forgotten fishing rod and you scramble to reel it in. You give a small grunt as whatever is on the hook struggles, "Yank on it." Price tells you and you do, nearly toppling on your back when you finally win the tug of war. You blink as you look at what you've caught.

A Speedo.

"Well would you look at that." Price chuckles.

Judging by the way Johnny's suddenly bare assed and throwing obscenities in Gaelic your way, you assume that it's his.

“Caught a big one there.” Ghost notes, not yet laughing but his shoulders shake with silent laughter as he slaps Soap's cheeks (of his rear).

He yelps, confident enough to be naked in front of all of you, but not shameless enough to where his cheeks (on his face) don't redden from the way Gaz cackles and wheezes with laughter so loudly he nearly drowns. You give Johnny back his trunks before he can drown Gaz but, maybe you should fish any more.

NSFW:

Imagine SOAP— If anyone ever asks Soap why he would ever send a dick pick to an ancient god, he'll blame anything and everything; on being stood up, on loving himself a little less, on mixing up the numbers, in being black out drunk…

Imagine; him being stone cold sober when the thought invades his mind and he spends the next hour trying to take a good picture: in front of the mirror, on the bed, no clothes, some clothes, the list of positions goes on. He doesn't want to come across like he's compensating by just holding his dick in his hand like some cunt; as silly as it is, he wants the picture to actually tempt you, to make you feel something, though the question of if you even can doesn't cross his mind. He ends up with a picture of him on the bed, the tip of his hard cock peeking out from beneath the band of his boxers.

He won’t admit he holds his breath when he sends the suggestive picture to you alongside a ;) , watching the text bubble appear and disappear multiple times before you just leave him on seen. He deflates and has half the mind to delete the picture and chuck his phone to the other end of his bed but he’s stopped when he gets a message from Price.

‘My office. Now.’

Turns out you were with Price when you saw that photo and without a second thought had shown him it and asked what it meant. Granted Price had seen more than just his dick, but he was less than happy about Johnny sending you unsolicited dick pics.

You quiz Soap for nearly an hour, stone faced and unbothered while he gets redder with every question (what can you send, what not to send, how much to send, etc.) and he gets the impression that's how his ma' felt when she gave him and his sisters 'the talk'. “So, yeah.” He clears his throat, whole face feeling hot. “Don’t do it ‘lest yea’r asked or yea like ‘em.”

Thankfully Price finally lets you go when you’re satisfied with his answers and Soap can’t scamper fast enough out of his office with his whole face in flames.

He deletes the photo soon after but you've already burned it into your memory where it will outlast the stars, and the idea to reciprocate festers in your ageless mind like rot until you find yourself in front of your mirror after a shower. You play with the phone for a long time, snapping a few blurry close up shots of your face while you attempt to change it from the front to the back facing camera.

It takes even longer to figure out what to send as Soap wasn't that clear with his answers. Your siblings give you pointers, and first you attempt to take a picture of your most private part — bones snap as your rib cage splits open into a maw, vines full of eyes wrapping around your ribs like ivy as tendrils of darkness unwind just enough for the anti-light of your very essence sucks up all the light in the room — but the mirror cracks and your phone just shuts off with a pitiful whimper.

After fixing the mirror you end up doing what you do best; you mimic one of the statues you'd seen the Greeks make, the towel wrapped just along the V where your thighs connect to your pelvis, exposed from the waist up with your skin still wet. Your body isn't as demure as the muses that sculptor had used, but you hope Soap will appreciate it as you snap a few more photos and send them to Johnny with the same ;) he'd sent you.

Soap nearly chokes on his spit when he gets the photo, all the blood in his brain flooding south as his eyes rake over every exposed inch of skin, every curve and every dip in the muscles making him drool and cock harden and he's racing to your room before you even have the time to turn your phone off.

Imagine GAZ — For all of your pitfalls and misunderstandings he likes the little hints of inhumanity in your speech, in your mannerisms, in knowing you could be anywhere and anytime but you choose to be next to him. He couldn't imagine himself being enamored with an ant, yet you hang on his every word like he's revealing secrets you don't know, making him feel special; he feels so bad when his thoughts of you stop being innocent.

Imagine; He tries to keep things respectful, but his imagination runs wild when you do the simplest things. Bend down to tie your shoe? He's checking out your arse from the corner of his eyes. Stand behind him? He's suppressing a shiver just imagining your body draped over his in post-coital bliss. Check his skin for injuries? Gaz has to bite his lip to keep from begging you to touch all of him, to explore his body. Work out? Kyle's lucky if he doesn't start drooling imagining going over and licking the sweat off your skin, of feeling your muscles tense beneath his tongue while you continue to work out with him between your legs.

When he can't think of you without popping a boner he ends up having to compromise before the shame eats him whole. He goes on a random porn site; he usually prefers just using his imagination but when his mind keeps circling back to you he has no other option, and his conscience gnaws on him when he ends up finding a porn star with similar features to yours. It's not wrong if he's wanking off to a different person, right?

Heat's already burning in his stomach when he slouches in his chair, his back to his room and one earbud in his ear. Shame continues to eat at him when he's both delighted and disheartened by the fact the porn star sounds nothing like you, that his bones don't shiver like they do when you talk.

He keeps the volume low and instead focuses on rubbing and squeezing his cock the way the porn star does to a second actor, and he can't help imagining what you'd sound like; high pitched and whiny? Husky and low? Completely silent or animalistic? The idea of pulling sounds of pleasure out of your throat has him leaking. His head lolls back and he moans as he squeezes the base of his cock, his eyes open just enough to blur the fine details on the porn star's face so you two become indistinguishable.

His heart stops when you burst through his door, a random question leaving your lips before your ears pick up the moans and slick sounds coming from his direction. You're next to him in an instant, looming over his chair and caging him in with your eyes stuck to the screen. "What are you watching?"

"Get out!" He yelps and tries to push you away but it's like trying to move a mountain.

"Why does that human look like my vessel?" You persist, "And why are you watching humans mating when you told me it's wrong?" You tilt your head, luckily not seeing his hand on his hard cock, the porn reflecting in the blacks of your eyes.

“It’s on the net it’s different! People upload it for others' pleasure and-” He sputters and cuts himself off when he registers your words, freezing in place and that accidentally gets him to squeeze the head of his cock.

Your pupils widen like a cat’s when you hear the little moan escape his chest, your head automatically dropping down to see where his other hand is. "Oh,” is what comes out of your mouth when you see his hard weeping cock. “Can I?” You ask, making an odd motion with your head.

He thinks you're asking to leave and nods. "Yeah-" Gaz wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole, his cheeks burning red like he's a lobster in a pot. “-can you pl-please leave-”

He wheezes when your cold hand suddenly wraps around his cock, your hold firm and just at the edge of pain but still making him throb. A few more eyes spread across your skin to see him while you watch the video still playing on his computer, giving his cock a small pump and shaking the stars with your purr when he moans.

"What are-" He neck nearly snaps to look at you, a shiver raking his body and another moan escaping him as you squeeze the head of his cock, your skin like ice yet it makes him burn with arousal.

"Watch." You order and turn his head with your free hand so his eyes are back on the screen. You don't know why he's watching a fake 'you' mate when he could just ask you, but you know one thing; the person on the screen is competition, and by the way you roughly stroke his cock until he's whining and leaking like a tap, Gaz can tell— you don't like competition.

Imagine PRICE — He never imagined he'd need to have 'the talk' with a god; sure, you may understand how sex works, but you're hopeless in understanding the nuances of it all. If someone doesn't directly say 'let's fuck' you assume any touches from them, even groping, is just them being friendly. It makes his blood boil, seeing you be taken advantage of like that.

Imagine; You're in the bar with the boys and Price is a couple of drinks in when he sees being felt up by a stranger and you're oblivious to his advances. A green eyed monster nips at Price's heels and he doesn't notice when he puts himself next to you, 'accidentally' shoving the other guy back with just his bulk. His presence, his demeanor, and the few harsh words spoken in a clipped tone has the other guy scampering off.

He doesn't remember much after that, only the way you'd looked at him — with the intensity of a ravenous void, like he was a bright star you wanted to devour.

What wakes him isn't his clock, but the rays of sunlight gently streaming through the curtains. He groans as he registers the awful ache behind his eyes before he even has a chance to open them. He feels his bed shift and his eyes snap open automatically, he nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees you laying on your side as you stare at him.

"Jesus!" He jumps up, nearly topples over from the sudden vertigo but your steady hand on his shoulder keeps him upright, making him realize he's nude.

"He's not here." You shrug and as you sit up his sheets pool around your waist, making him realize you're naked from the waist up, though he doesn't want to think if you're naked naked. His fists clench when his eyes roam over your exposed body against his will, settling on the various hickeys decorating your shoulders and neck.

His heart sinks. "What…what happened last night?" He asks and doesn't want to know the answer, his stomach churns with shame.

"Oh, uh, you got drunk, I got you home, you started kissing and biting me." You say, tracing the numerous hickeys and indents of his teeth across your human form like they're medals. "Then you pulled me into your bed and wouldn't let me go. Then you passed out." You say as if nothing's wrong, and even if no sex happened it's little consolidation to the fact he took advantage of you.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” He asks as he takes a shaky breath, shoulders hunched up around his ears and eyes downcast, bile burning in his stomach.

"Why would I?" You tilt your head and shift positions to face him fully, the sheets falling away to reveal you are naked naked. "I may not understand you fully, but I would have stopped you if you did something I didn't want."

Price hates himself for how he can't tear his eyes away from your body. "But you let me." He insists and tries to get you to see reason, to be as angry and disgusted with him as he is with himself.

“Yes.” You are growing annoyed as well, silently cursing the frailty of the human mind; things would be easier to explain if you could just use mental communication… “You are less than insects to my kin.” You sigh and move to straddle him before he can get away, pinning him under you. “You are a sun to me.”

Even calling him a sun doesn’t do him justice; suns die out like firecrackers when your immeasurable body passes over them, when you devour them, him, you want to keep, to protect, to wrap in your cold abyss until he’s warm and safe.

He sucks in a breath, the gears in his head turning as he tries to understand. “What?-”

“Can I touch you?” You ask, your hands respectfully on your thighs as if you’re not pinning him in place with your weight. There’s a dark intelligence in your eyes, the same ravenous void staring at him behind the black of your eyes. You are not a child, you are a god.

"Why?" He sucks in a sharp breath as he breathes in your smell, the scent of dying stars and burn ozone tickling his lungs. "You don't have to." He says weakly, because what would anyone, god or not, want with him?

"You left marks on me, I want to do the same." The way you say it makes him think of godhood; not the bleak madness you are, but the type humanity romanticizes. Your lips part as if you're thinking of marking him, bits of oblivion staring back at him from the darkness of your throat when he looks too closely at your mouth.

He submits so fast. "C'mere then," He pulls you close by your head, kissing you like he's trying to steal your ichor, his body burning hot when your hands grip him tight enough to leave moon shaped bruises in his skin — the first of many you intend to give him, until you've marked him as yours and yours alone.

Imagine GHOST — Ghost prefers to show you rather than spend hours trying to explain things to you, he's more stricter with you when you try to do things you're told not to, both for your and everyone's safety. You never do quite learn.

Imagine; Ghost recently confiscated your phone when you tried to see what humans thought about you, or what they imagined you and your kin to be, on a website called 'Rule34'. Ghost had snatched the phone out of your hands before you could even click the link. After a week he gave you the go ahead to take it back, but got called to run a drill so just said to go find it.

Now, you've been told not to go rooting around other people's belongings, but while searching for your phone you'd fallen back into your old habit and snooped around until you found a small box in the bottom of his dresser. Thinking nothing of it you opened it and found…something. A lot of somethings; handcuffs, rope, weird egg shaped thing, a weird tube with a hole in it that squished like a stress toy but had a cunt molded at one end, but what drew your attention — was the dismembered black cock in the middle of the box.

You and all of your kin scratched your collective heads over the thing you now held in your hand, you'd been under the impression humans didn't carry around body parts anymore so you were stumped why Ghost had a dismembered dick and balls in his dresser. Besides the pitch black color and flat base it looked so realistic and the way it flopped when you turned it in your hand made you feel the same way humans did when seeing you.

So you got up and wen to ask Ghost about it, the thing held out in your hand when you found him with the rest of the boys. "Ghost, why do you a have body part in your closet?"

Your question made them all turn to look at you, Ghost made a strange sound like a strangled dog while Gaz and Soap fell over laughing and Price shielded his eyes with the rim of his hat.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell.” He snarls and before you know it he’s stomping over to you and dragging you by the front of your clothes, “What I tell you about snooping?”

“I couldn’t find my phone,” You try to argue but don’t struggle and just let him drag you somewhere like you're a kitten until you find yourself in his room with the door firmly locked behind him.

"Right." His tone makes it sound like he doesn't believe you, his rough hand pushes you down on his bed and he yanks the thing from your hold. “You want to know what this is for?” He asks and holds the the cock with the head pointed at you like a knife.

You nod your head and try to rise up but he pushes you back down, you're not even sure where he gets the handcuffs from but there's cold steel around your wrists before you can notice it. It's his order to "Sit and watch." that actually keeps you down, and you see the corners of his eyes shift to denote a smirk. "Do what you're good at."

You don't blink as you watch him disrobe until he's only wearing his mask, and your surprise is obvious when he sticks the thing on the floor and it stays up right. "This," He growls and sinks to his knees on the floor, a towel under him, "Is a fuckin' dildo." He reaches over and takes a small tube, squirting viscous liquid on his fingers. "You don't ever take it out of my room. Got it."

He leaves no room to argue and you rapidly nod your head. You find yourself breathless as you watch him reach behind himself and you don’t even notice how a bit of your oblivion leaks from your pores and spreads across the ground like spiderwebs, eyes blooming in the small pools all around him so you can see the way he roughly pushes a finger into himself, your hands clenching as his rim flutters around his large fingers.

"What is it for?" You find your voice, the sound ringing like the inside of a dead star the longer you watch him roughly stretch himself, pushing two then three fingers into his ass.

"Fun," He chuckles and feels so powerful when your eyes have all but turned black with hunger you've yet to notice. "It's a toy, for adults." He pulls his fingers out and squirts more liquid on the dildo, before sinking down on the toy in one fluid move that leaves him hissing at the stretch, his rim fluttering around the thick base.

Something about the way the toy is of a similar color to your real body has you wriggling beneath your human skin, the air vibrating as you groan and try to reach out to him, wanting to cover him in your body and have all of him feel all of you.

"No." Just one word has you sitting back on the bed like a dog, a pitiful sound rumbling across the void as you can do nothing but watch. "This is what you get for snooping." He's so smug with the way he has such control over you without even touching you, his thick thighs tensing as he slowly bounces on the dildo, "Now watch. Maybe if you're good I'll let you touch me."

You'll do whatever he says so long as you get to feel him.

772 notes · View notes

mitsuristoleme · 4 months

Note

I just saw your requests are open so I might as well jump in BECAUSE SKDNDNSN ok buttttt what about sukuna + his tummy having a mind of its own BEFORE you were their wife, like, you know nothing about this man but everytime you come in sigh you hear the most direct cat calling you've come across only to see a man with an expression of "God kill me now" so you don't know what's happening but it makes you really curious so you just... Provoke him? Like, use revealing clothing, put on an expensive perfume, etc. AAAH I Just love that hc of his stomach mouth having a mind of its own istg aaaa

a/n: ok so im gonna write this in a modern au because lets be real heian era Sukuna did NOT care about dating/courting

formatted into a bullet point headcannon post because im having way too much fun with this and nothing is connected in a cohesive form (pls forgive me for that but my brain is going ham with this concept)

cw: gn!reader, cursing, sexual content, bestie!gojo, Sukuna’s tummy mouth is a menace but wbk

imagine you’re a teacher at jujutsu high and a special grade sorcerer (because i enjoy feeling strong and this is a little self indulgent) (yall can choose if you want to be gojo’s classmate or nanami’s it doesn’t really impact anything)

Sukuna gets reincarnated without a vessel (dont ask me how it just happens ok) and to everyone’s surprise, he volunteers to be an instructor at jujutsu high

he says its to “make these pathetic kids somewhat decent sorcerers so they dont ruin the name of jujutsu”

for whatever reason, the higher ups assign him a spot among the teachers at the school

imagine your shock when this 1000 year old 7 foot tall motherfucker shows in the middle of your class to introduce himself as the new teacher

you’d heard about his whole situation but you didn’t expect him to show up in the middle of a lesson

you attempt to shoo him away but he doesn’t even move (i mean what did you expect really?) and you’re forced to end class early

weirdly enough he keeps a hand clamped over his stomach the entire exchange?? you chalk it down to a stomach ache or something (that night you do wonder if curses, or er, the king of curses, even get physical pains)

ok so before i get into the whole thing lemme just-

in my head, the tummy mouth has the humour of a middle school boy and the self control of the dog from ‘absolutely anything’

so yk. its a mess.

you see him the next day in the staff room

hes wearing a starched white shirt (it accommodates all his four arms and you question how he got one made in a single day) and a pair of fitted slacks, looking WAY too good for a curse

you realise you’ve been staring through the glass window if the staff room and finally enter

only to be greeted by a LOUD wolf whistle followed by a “OOOOH HEY HOT THANG” in the deepest, raspiest, most demonic ass voice you’ve ever heard

sukuna looks like he wants to kill himself.

he gets up and leaves the room immediately

you hear the a faint “NO GO BACK AND FLIRT WITH THEM YOU WIMP ASS HOE” in the same demonic voice as he stalks away

and you’re standing there

wondering what the actual fuck just happened

did you just experience harassment in your workplace?? but his mouth never even moved???

Gojo enters the staff room right after Sukuna vanishes and you IMMEDIATELY fill him in on whatever happened in hopes that he would have any explanation

hes confused, curious and amused all the same time

this doesnt mean hes of any help though

no, the piece if shit just laughs at you and goes off to terrorise the first years take class

before leaving he very unhelpfully reminds you that you have to share classes with Sukuna today

you enter the classroom a couple minutes before the students (you literally have 4 students and one of them is a panda god knows what the point of 2 teachers for such a small class is) and find Sukuna already in the room, leaning back on the chair, his legs resting on the table, eyes closed

once again

looking WAY too fine

just as you internally celebrate that nothing weird happened THE SAME OLD DEMONIC VOICE booms a “DAMN BABY YOU LOOK FINE, CMON LEMME TAKE YA HOME”

“wha- I- Eh??? I’m sorry what the fuhck?!?” you sputter, eyes wide

Sukuna has leaped up from his chair, a mixture of embarrassment and murderous rage on his face

he hisses a “shut the fuck up” in the vague direction of his abdomen before turning to you and apologising

“i am so sorry,” he says sheepishly “i owe you an explanation at the very least after two incidents”

“OI DONT APOLOGISE ASK THEM OUT THEY’RE HOT AND I KNOW YOU THINK SO TOO”

“I WILL LITERALLY FUCKING SEW YOU SHUT IF YOU DONT STAY FUCKING QUIET”

and once again. you’re standing there. shook.

Sukuna turns to you again with an expression that clearly says ‘Gods please strike me down right now’ and asks if you know about him having multiple body parts

you’ve heard of the legends and stories: four eyes, four arms and mouths he can will to appear wherever he wants, so you nod

“Well it just so happens that the mouth on my stomach is sentient, and extremely vulgar. Although i’m sure you noticed the latter.”

his voice is a wonderful contrast to that of his tummy mouth

deep, melodic and smooth

he just got even more attractive.

fuck.

you realise you haven’t given him a response and nod dumbly muttering out a quick “uh-huh”

thankfully the students enter at that moment saving you from any awkwardness

what you have recently come to identify as Sukuna’s tummy mouth stays blissfully quiet throughout the class and shockingly enough the silence on the belly front continues throughout the day as you discuss lesson plans with your ridiculously hot coworker

that night as you’re getting ready for bed, you remember the exchange between Sukuna and his appendage (specifically the part about Sukuna thinking you’re hot) and a mischievous idea forms in your brain (hey gojo satoru’s influence was bound to kick in at some point)

the next day you leave the top few buttons of your work shirt undone and put on some of the pheromone perfume you got as a gag gift in an (what you presume to be potentially successful) effort to rile Sukuna up (lets be real you think hes pretty damn hot too)

clap yourself on the back for that one bestie because the second you enter the staff room, Sukuna’s eyes nearly bulge out of his skull and the tummy mouth starts BARKING

and drooling apparently (how do you know? well maybe because the front of sukuna’s pristine white dress shirt is now sopping wet)

“WIFE THEM UP I SWEAR TO-“

the sound of a coffee cup shattering interrupts whatever was gonna come after that

you’re met with Nanami’s incredibly unimpressed gaze

without saying anything he leaves the room, muttering, “its too early for whatever the fuck this is”

well.

that happened.

yall get together eventually

gojo tells you “i knew you wanted to fuck him”

before you can come up with any sort of response, your boyfriend’s stomach pipes in with a “OH HE DEFINITELY WANTED TO FUCK THEM”

this is your life now.

good luck.

a/n: HI IM HERE TOO THIS TIME!! i left the ‘getting together part kinda up to interpretation because im shit at writing the ‘getting together’ arcs but we’re gonna pretend like it was because i want you to be able to go wild with whatever you want

please dont copy or repost my work without my permission

comments and reblogs are appreciated

check out my masterlist

dividers by @/vanillekiss

189 notes · View notes

rustytrident · 1 year

Text

i think the hc that occupies my brain the most is the "demonic nature is kinda like human world animals' instincts" so here is the breakdown no one asked for: why i believe demons are much less scary after you actually get to know them!

so, in case it hasn't been evident in my three posts and some lint i have about obey me on here (sarcasm) i am obsessed with the idea that even the most powerful of demons aren't able to resist their demonic urges. like their brain kind of blacks out?? and they do whatever tf either demon brain or sin brain (or both) tells them to do.

lucifer checks himself out on every. single. reflective. surface. fixing his collar, combing his hair, straightening his sleeves – he absolutely hates when he realises he does it but demon brain goes "oohhh!!! it's me im here!!" and sin brain goes "ihavetolookmybestatalltimespleasetellmeilookgood". every time he catches himself with his hand midway through his hair he sighs and tries to go on with his day (one time satan and belphie pranked him by putting mirrors everywhere) (they didn't know lucifer has memorised the layout of the hol and can walk anywhere with his eyes closed).

mammon is that one kid that touches anything shiny and sparkly. you could be wearing highlighter and just feel a poke on your cheek. turn around. it's your demon boy. his pupils are dilated. finger still on your face. half a toof fang sticking out of his mouth. fucking elated. glittery shiny sparkly holographic things are his demon brain cocomelon. sin brain just hoards any and all glittery shiny sparkly holographic things he can find. whenever he's upset he watches those slime or chalk asmr videos but they have to be the ones where the creators use a whole bag of glitter (or! or! the ones where people flick brushes full of glitter above their cameras in slow motion yknow the ones).

leviathan has to be quirky different not like other girls. he has to be the one with the most marine knowledge in the family, the one with the most ruri knowledge in the family – you get the point. i believe he has a touch of the demon tism so if you think you know anything about his special interests no you don't. he was actually there when it happened so joke's on you. yes he did witness the creation of the first amoeba now move. he's also that younger sibling that sees you get praise for doing something and does the exact same thing to get praise too. sin brain goes "if they get that then i have to have it". you see him wearing your clothes sometimes and when you think back you remember you got a compliment on it about a week ago (week agoo 🕺💃) and like yeah. makes sense (pls tell him he's pretty pls).

satan has chewy toys and wears a retainer pretty frequently because that wrath may be chronic but them teeth won't stay there for long if he keeps baring them!! he buys new ones once a month because he absolutely tears through them and everyone is just used to him popping in his acrylic retainer every time lucifer comes in the room. he isn't even half ashamed of his toys because trust me it's not a cute sight. this man is one of the most imposing beings you have ever encountered creating holes with his teeth in places you believe there weren't any before through what you're guessing used to be something green and made of rubber, but you aren't too sure. you ask him what's wrong and he just stares at you blankly and goes "nothing? why would anything be?". it's just a casual case of both demon and sin brain going "AUURGHHHDHS *chomp*". absolutely feral unicorn man with the straightest teeth you've ever seen.

asmodeus is in the same predicament as lucifer when it comes to checking himself out but instead he embraces the moment. and checks other people out too, as long as what they're wearing catches his attention. he's a very touchy demon so you can find him absentmindedly having his hands on you without even realising he does it: twirling a strand of your hair, playing with your fingers, tracing your jawline. it's just that demon brain goes "ohoho!! my humnan look at my humin go!!" and can't not touch you after that. he also bites. you think it would be mammon or beel but nope it's asmo!! you're just too pretty and he wants to feel close to you!! don't bring it up though he gets embarrassed. you know that meme where person a says "i wonder what i taste like" and person b says "i can help with that" and a imagines a kiss and b imagines biting person a? yeah, inside asmo are two wolves.

beelzebub is the randomest fucking demon in that household idc. he's always so quiet and you never know what he's thinking until one day he brings home a human world ostrich like it's nothing and gives it a "tour of its new home"??? absolutely insane. he also buzzes randomly?? like you'll be hanging out in the common room and all of a sudden you hear "bbzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz" only for another brother to go "beel. i can't concentrate on my book. please refrain from buzzing inside the house"??? hello??? i think he's got a passion for cleaning too (thousands of years of food and blood stains, crumbs and mould have taught him a couple things) so he is always ready to assist in cleaning his brother's rooms and won't stop until they look brand new. his most demon brain moment is when he lifts things. doesn't matter what or how heavy it is, if he sees something new around him he has to give it a little lift. same thing with the people he's fond of. you have been grabbed by the armpits one too many times to have an impromptu simba moment for three seconds, only for beel to just go on with his day, no explanation. what a demon *sighs dreamily*.

belphegor is the most like his familiars (or at least his habits are most prominent). you see the demon chewing and chewing and chewing like one bite of food and if you dare look at him weird he gives you the cow stare (pls tell me you know what im talking about). you see him in full demon form running headfirst into a wall with his horns (#satan_and_belphie_bonding_activity) and if you dare look at him weird he gives you the cow stare. kinda like his twin, he does random moo or hffphhhmp noises according to his mood without realising ("no belphegor, you can not destroy every wall in this house with your horns" "moOOO"). demon brain goes brrrr with some human world grass and some sunshine. like he absolutely loves being in that mediterranean countryside, twirling some grass between his fingers, eating it, living his life. best brother to go on a picnic with hands down.

fucking dorks *heart eyes*

#obey me #obey me shall we date #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader #sing me a song // the song of our glory

1K notes · View notes

bcolfanfic · 17 days

Note

If you have any,,, id love to hear more hcs about the intervention

*cracks knuckles* some background first (that is over-riding my wedding headcanons a lil re: the first time they see bucky post attempt- ah c'est la vie). also these were, shocking no one atp a collab effort with @swifty-fox

it comes up to begin with bc a handful of the guys decide to go hang out and muck about in nyc. ken, curt and rosie are already in the area, and croz, brady, demraco and the buckys also fly in. yayyy!!! boy time!!!

except not *yay* in that bucky's drinking has been getting. bad.

he tries hard to mask it, takes up chewing gum every second of the day to mask the smell on his breath but he's not perfect. drinks in the shower before they go out for the day with the guys, and he's off but the guys mostly chalk it up to bucky's typical buckyisms. gale maybe knows he probably isn't sober, but he's stressed and hurting and for the sake of having fun with their friends just tries to pretend he doesn't know. esp when he's not being sloppy, just a little off.

then croz walks in on bucky doing shooters (these, if you're unfaimialr) in a bathroom he had them all stop at. tries to be gentle about it- tell him he doesn't need those, if he's thirsty they can stop and get some water. but bucky snaps at him that to not talk to him like one of his kids and things escalate. they get into it and poor brady who volunteered to go see why they were taking so long in the bathroom is the one who has to break them up just like he did in bagram. war flashbacks. literally.

croz doesnt want to make much more of a scene about it so he doesnt walk out blasting what happened, but he does text gale about it. and at this point it's obvious to everyone that bucky isn't sober and i just </3. when bucky leans into gale and says he doesn't feel good gale kinda jumps at the opportunity to go back to their hotel. wants to take care of his bucky, but is also hurting and honestly a little embarassed.

then a lot of things happen that i think i'm gonna save to write in a fic but. including not limited to gale realizing bucky is hiding alochol in diff bottles when bucky asks him to grab a water from the mini fridge and is like uhhh no no not that one, not that one. and gale breaking his own heart having to help him drink when theyre back home because he almost went into full blown withdrawal trying to just up and quit cold turkey to save face.

to your actual question about the intervention, it's mostly curt's idea- that he shares on the phone when the bucks are back in wyoming. and gale is pretty much certain it's a horrible idea but he doesn't know what else to even try so he agrees. all the guys that were on the nyc trip fly out, and gale gets bucky out of the house for the morning (curt knows where their spare key is) so that the other guys can at least. get in the house without bucky physically stopping them.

but bucky knows something is up when they pull back in the driveway. sees all the cars and *knows* what this is and just looks at gale like he's committed the ultimate betrayal </3

it's a pretty rough start. curt starts talking all "should we go dig that bullet out of the wall or d'you wanna stop pretending your healing journey is over" and when bucky understandably kinda freaks at that he makes him tell the other guys what he's talking about. poor thing doesn't want to. tells curt's that not fucking fair he's such a narc, a bad friend but curt is like no. this is eating you up inside. you need to say it out loud. they're your friends. they love you. *i* love you.

ends up telling them, and that crack in the armor is enough that he's at least not snapping at all of them/letting them talk.

but it gets rough again when it's ultimatum time. croz’s is not letting him around his kids- not because he thinks bucky would *ever* hurt them, but bucky is just. a liability in a lot of ways with this and the whole point of ultimatums is that they are. tough to hear. they have to be. or they don't work.

demarco's is that if bucky genuinely refuses to get help then gale is getting on a plane with him (whether gale thinks he'd actually be able to go through with that or not he agreed to let demarco say it). and that's when bucky snaps again. talking so hard he's spitting about oh i don't even get to go back to wisconsin? just gonna leave me in wyoming to die, huh?

and gale bursts into tears </3 which is what really makes bucky break because gale *never* cries. but now he's sobbing because god bucky's trying so hard but he's still not better and he's hurting the people he loves. he's hurting them a lot.

bucky on his knees crawls to kneel in front of him and take his face in his hands "i'm sorry im sorry please don't cry, leave if you want just don't cry baby

and gale's crying telling he just wants him to listen to him and to their friends whydoy only care now cause ‘m crying- look at /them/, it’s not fair.

bucky wants to barf when he listens, turns around and looks at their friends and seems them looking back at them like *that*. but some part of him, the part that is desperate to get better feels really damn lucky to be so loved by them that they even showed up. that they want him to get better.

#tw alchoholism #young vets au #buck x bucky

52 notes · View notes

sinon36 · 22 days

Text

Ghost x undercover!reader (HC) Part VI

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

Warnings: torture, violence, gore, mistakes.

- the sixth time you meet it’s after a lot of frenzied searches

- the missions have been slow a while now; you mostly act as a handler for TF141, alongside Laswell; the boys got used to your calm voice in their earpieces, guiding and directing them through buildings and underground bases; your “hacking” skills come in handy when Laswell gets caught up with something else

- they always come home in time for you to get supper together; it’s a nice way of living; so different from the loneliness you felt before; now you have a small family to call your own; the banter between you and the sergeants feels the air; you throw jokes to one another; Price quietly chuckles at his younger subalterns; Ghost on the other hand stays silent most of the time;

- you always sit next to him, in the mess hall, in briefing rooms, in helis, or cars; it’s something he’s not sure yet how to interpret; yes, the two of you got along just fine; you have the same dark humour that makes the other soldiers in the base shiver when they hear you laugh at your jokes; you can sit in comfortable silence for hours; you don’t pry into each other’s lives, which he’s thankful; you hadn’t even asked him his name, and you already know one another for more than two years; he won’t admit but he doesn’t like the way his heart feels when you laugh at one of Soap’s jokes, or discuss with Gaz one of the new books you’ve bought, or even when Price comes close to you, peaking over your shoulder and talking quietly with you about the files you’ve got in front of you;

- Ghost does not allow the thought, that he might be jealous on his comrades’ interactions with you, take roots inside his mind; he can’t; you’re just doing your job and you just happen to enjoy the 141’s company, in the most platonic way; he knows that your bond is far superior to that of the other’s; you saved his life, saw his face, and he in turned saved yours; that must add up to something;

- yet he feels that something’s wrong with him; Price pointed out that ever since you joined TF141 he seems quieter, and less present; he’s becoming more and more his namesake; he denies that, and argues that he’s just tired, now that he’s getting older; Price calls out his shite; the captain is older than him, and he’s far more active than him;

- but the captain can’t do more than that, a friendly conversation; yours and Ghost’s relationship is extremely professional; he rarely sees the two of you interact in the common room, or anywhere else for that matter, that’s not the battle field or the briefing room; you also work incredibly well; you two and Soap had made quite the trio when it comes to field work; he affectionately calls you the Unholy Trinity of Task Force 141; trails of body are left in your wake and almost all missions go well without the tinniest hitch; the men joke around that surely you are some kind of witch that made a deal with the devil to have success; you laugh and chalk it all up to skill, hard work, and a shite ton of sheer luck;

- though you keep reminding them that your luck will run out one day, they ignore you, joking that you’ll have to tolerate them until you retire; you’re not as optimistic; you’re the realist of the whole team; you know the risks are ten times bigger than theirs

- most of the times you go in alone, unarmed, no back up, no communication; you only have yourself to rely on; and you know that when the fatigue catches up with you, you’ll slip up, make a mistake, that’ll get you killed or worse

- and then the worst you feared happens; you go MIA during a simple infiltration; the boys find no trace to indicate where you’d been taken to or by whom; Laswell can’t find any sign of you, no matter how hard she tries, or how far she’s stretching her informant network; nothing; denial turns to angry searches, busting down doors and torturing anyone they come across; that turns to desperation, they start looking into the most unrelated events they find, hoping that maybe, just maybe, they get a glimpse of your name, or an alias, or something, no matter how small; and that turns to silence, they stop bringing you up, start avoiding your name or anything that might point out you’re not there; after Laswell mentions you in one of their briefings, that the time to change your status to KIA is due, Ghost smashes the chair you used to sit in

- it’s one of the most violent reactions he’s had outside the battlefield since you’d disappeared, and Price starts to worry that his lieutenant will do something stupid if they don’t find out what happened to you; he threatens Laswell to not touch that file of yours; ‘Not yet, Kate. Not yet.’ He says in a sadder and calmer voice

- acceptance never came; the thought that maybe you’re not even alive, buried somewhere unmarked, or body burned beyond recognition is a thought they’d long banished; wherever they went they kept their eyes peeled for you; their hope of finding you never wavers

- and then their prayers are answered; they get something; it’s not much; a 3-second clip; it’s blurred, to few pixels to really make out any details; and the camera seems to be moved violently, barely catching the hunched posture of a person tied to a chair; Laswell got it form one of her contacts; it’s from a half destroyed hard drive they recovered from heli the dropped out of the sky

- it’s not much; actually, is far too little to go on with; the video doesn’t show a face, nor reveals any names; the background so dark they can’t make out anything; But they agree it’s you; from the size of your body, to your complexion to the colour of your hair, now longer and falling over your face; it’s been months since they last saw you but they know it’s you

- ‘Proof of life’ Price concludes; ‘But fur who?’ Soap voices the question they all thought of that; ‘It don’t matter’ Ghost points out, voice gruffer than ever; ‘Where is more important.’ Gaz specifies

- they get to work; they comb the crash site, having received the location from Laswell; at first they don’t find anything; but Ghost’s keen eyes find it; it’s a small piece of silvery metal, wedged in the dirt; it’s only half, but he can make out the letters clearly; cyrillic letter; he grunts; ‘Price…’ he shouts to get everyone’s attention; when they come closer he shows it to them; ‘Russians’ they conclude

- the hunt begins; Nik is there to smuggle the Brits over the Russian borders and to provide them with an extraction vehicle, in his case an old rusty Russian helicopter, that can barely fly under the radar, it flinches and grunts at every gust of wind, but it’s as covert as can be; they don’t bear any insignia visible on their black camo uniforms; their faces tucked under black balaclavas; even their guns are Russian, some AK-47 Nik provided them with no striations on the barrels; they even agreed to keep their mouths shut, letting the captain converse with anyone that they might encounter; no one can no that a team of Brits put their feet on Russian soil

- they carefully went over all the details just like you got them used to when you did infiltrations; they are as prepared as ever; the plan is simple; take out the guards that make their rounds through the facility and take their place; that will give them sufficient time to look for you and find a way out to get you out; “if” they find you; the information came through Laswell and it was already a couple weeks old; chances are you’ve been moved;

- they search everywhere; you’re not there; time for plan B: infiltrate their data base; Price gets his hand on a computer and plugs the USB containing the backdoor virus; it takes some time to install, then to reboot the whole system; Laswell gives the green light that they’re in; they get out of there leaving no trace that they ever were inside

- the next two weeks are gruesome; Ghost spends most of his time destroying the punching bags in the gym; he barely eats and barely sleeps; he starts hearing your voice in the night when he climbs the ladder to the roof, perched up like an owl, having a smoke away from everyone; he hears a soft whisper, or a small chuckle; he’s going crazy, he thinks; crazy with worry for you;

- it’s been years since Simon felt worry for someone; when his family was killed, he vowed to never get close to another soul again; but then you had to save him; you didn’t even know him; risked your life for a stranger that cannot repay you for that act of kindness

- but he can; he can make sure you’re safe on missions; that’s why he’d always stalk your figure through the scope; that’s why he’d have you with him and Soap every time you’d split up; so he can keep his eyes on that pretty face of yours; that’s why he’d threaten the other marines on base with the court martial when he’d hear lewd comments about you being their whore and so much worse; he’d be wringing their necks if Price didn’t keep such a close eyes on his actions

- he misses you, and your presence, and your sweet perfume, and your voice, and your eyes that would look straight into his when he told you a joke, smirk matching his own; he missed the way you’d drink your tea together in the morning, in silence broken only by soft sighs and the sound of the sofa under your weights; if he got up before you he’d make sure to boil enough water for two mugs and he’d put the tea in the moment he could hear your footsteps heading to the common room; he was so accustomed to you that he could make out your footsteps even in the busiest corridors; lighter than most, almost quiet but quick, lively; he misses that too

- the way you’d make your away towards him and with a nod take the seat next to his, softly brushing his shoulder with yours in an unspoken acknowledgement… I’m here, next to you… your simple touch made his skin boil underneath his clothes and yearn for more; he’d take advantage of situations out in the field; he’d grab you and help you climb over obstacles, he’d give you a head anytime he felt you needed it; and you’d never refuse his help;

- he’ll be dammed if he doesn’t find you; just like you found him when you first met

- two weeks pass by slower when you’re almost always awake, Simon knew that already; but he’s the first to get on the tarmac when Price gives the order for heading out; Laswell managed to pinpoint your location; one of the Russian commanders moved you to an off the record, but not really cause ‘Russians are shit at keeping a low profile.’ Laswell adds, compound where they’d keep foreign prisoners for interrogations; the American woman sends them out to get you out and wipe any witness that has seen your face

- exactly what Simon wanted; the green light to do what he’s best at: mauling his enemies;

- the compound they keep you in is underground, ventilation system outdated, like pretty much any piece of technology they keep; they record the interrogation on an old Sony camera; you doubt it can register your mumbled responses, not that you’d say anything useful; you’d match every question with a curse in a clear American accent; you don’t want to give them anything that might be traced back to your British boys;

- they can’t get anything out of you; not your name, not whom do you work for, or where you’re from, what you were looking for when you infiltrated their operation, etc.; they were met with an unsurmountable resistance; no matter how many times they’d beat you, drown you, burn you, cut you, electrocute you, or humiliate you; they took away most of your clothes, leaving you in your underwear and what little remained from your tank top, enough to cover only your upper torso; you were cold, hungry and in pain; you had been in this condition for months; but you wouldn’t give up

- in the academy they taught you that the longer you lasted the more chances of being found; that thought has crossed your mind more than once; but you don’t allow yourself to hope; that would only weigh you down the more time passes; no, you look for ways to free yourself and learn the personnel’s schedule; and you wait for the best opportunity

- that window of opportunity is near; for a week now you worked on pulling out the nail in the chair that holds the chair’s handle together; you managed to pull out the nail and twist your wrist to try and scratch at the rope; the motion is uncomfortable and painful, the skin of your wrist is cut open by the rope that soaks up your blood; you’ve been at it for hours, trying to cut yourself loose; and you finally manage; surprise overtakes you as the rope unravels and your hand is free; the limb aches with exertion as you shake it to get the flow of circulation to get back to normal

- then you lean forward and grab at the knife left there from the previous session, still wet with your blood; freeing yourself is more strenuous than you would have imagined; as you bend down to free your ankles you almost pass out from the sudden rush of blood to your head; you lost of it, enough to hinder you in your escape; but you push through

- when you stand up you grab the chair for support and move in slow motion afraid you’ll pass out; you have a plan in mind already; get dresses in the coat left on the hanger by the door, and lay in wait for the interrogator to come back for another round; now that your body is filled with adrenaline times moves slower, but it doesn’t take long for the door handle to start to move; you wait for the tall and skinny man to enter; if he were a little leaner you wouldn’t have had a chance; but this failed physician that took to torture won’t even know what hit him; you stab him in the neck with a somewhat quick strike;

- he dies drowning in his own blood; you manage to drag his corpse under the table, leaving the pool of blood untouched; maybe they’ll think that you finally bled out and someone took your corpse to the morgue to be burned; you don’t care as you grab the handgun off his waist; the same one he’d threaten you with when you wouldn’t answer;

- judging by the thick clothes your assailant wears you know outside is cold; so you do what they told you at the academy; you undress the corpse an take his pants an shoes; they’re huge on you but you can’t complain; you shiver at the warmth still trapped in the wool fibres;

- you make your way outside checking for any guards; you found none, as expected; you heard the Russian complain that is too cold and stuffy down here that nobody but him frequents the lower levels; some people don’t know to shut up and you are glad to exploit that; with his gun, knife and car keys in hand you make your way through the dark corridors; you follow the boot prints left on the filthy floors;

- the only guards you encounter are the ones stationed by the door that leads to the stairs; you make quick work of them; one shot for each of their heads; you almost fall down on your ass as the gun kicks back in recoil; you take a moment to lean on the wall taking a few calming breaths

- your ascend is slow, laboured breaths escaping your gaping mouth; you strain your eyes and try to decipher the word on the walls marking the level and the facility; you’re looking for the parking lot; you find it after climbing to the second to last level; Russians really don’t know how to keep a facility secure; as you climb the emergency stairs there is no one to stop you; they underestimated your ability to escape this hell hole; their mistake

- as you reach the parking lot you look for the physician’s car; it’s a rusty red Lada; it’ll do just fine; as you get in the passenger side you start hearing gunshots; it’s faint; maybe you imagined it; but no, it’s there; you don’t wait to find out what’s happening, as you turn the key in the ignition you pull out of the spot and quickly drive towards the exit; whatever firefight broke out in there, pulled away every guard from their stationary position; for a moment you think about TF 141, but you quickly dismiss it

- you make your way out, a little dizzy from the spiral ascension; once out of there you notice that there’s forest around, and some snow; you hit gravel and as you look back you notice the exit; the only indication that there is something men made here; you doubt that tunnel can be spotted from a drone; the trees block the line of sight; that confirms your suspicions

- the gun fire must be coming from another escapee, not as lucky as you; you drive down the dirt road following every twist and turn hoping you won’t see any other cars; you check the glove compartment; now that the adrenaline rush is over your body aches like never before; you search for some pain meds but you only find a wallet with some cash in it; Russian rubbles, enough to keep the car going for a while; maybe you’ll find a gas station; it’s risky but you are I dire need of food and water; that might give you enough strength to push forward

- the 141 moves quickly taking care of the two sentinels at the mouth of the tunnel; two well placed shots and they’re down; Gaz and Soap move the bodies in a bush and hide their car in the tree line; hopefully nobody will come looking for this two in the next crucial minutes; they comb through the facility dropping anyone they encounter; their pistols bear silencers masking the loud sounds; they move deeper and deeper, but soon the alarm is sounded and a full fight ensues; the guards are no match for the 141; they drop like flies; but the fight costs them precious minutes;

- Ghost breaks away from the rest of his teammates; he knows they got it; he needs to hurry to find you; he needs to make sure you are still breathing, and that your pretty eyes still hold fire in them; he gets to lowest level where the holding cells are; he checks behind every grate and every door until a he gets to what seems to be the place they torture the prisoners

- he notices how filthy and cold it is; but what makes his blood freeze is the chair and the large pool of fresh blood; no…, he’s too late; he came to late; a wave of blinding fury surges and like a tsunami Ghost thrashes the room; he stops only when he discovers the body of a tall Russian man behind the desk; his throat slit; pants and boots missing; atta girl he can’t help the smirk taking over his face under the balaclava; you were capable, he knew that, but you still manage to surprise him; he gets out trying to radio in the discovery to the rest of his teammates

- the radio crackles with static, concrete walls too thick for the signal to penetrate; he’s made his decision; he’s going after you even though he knows Price will kick his ass later; you need him; probably not as much as he needs you; he chases the droplets of blood you left on the ground as you walked towards the emergency staircase; at the door, two more casualties; no, you didn’t need him; you had it handled

- in the parking lot he finds a military truck with the key in the ignition; he follows you as quickly as the car gets on the dirt road

- you drive for what feels like hours; your mind is struggling, eyes out of focus and body feeling heavier with every minute; you don’t know why or when the car starts to shake and tilt, you feel yourself flying out of the seat; everything goes black

- Ghost’s eyes scan the road in front of him through the thick snowfall; he almost misses the red car that swerved of the road and now rests on the side in a ditch, snow piles on top almost making it disappear; he gets out of the truck and approaches the car pistol pointed at it; he wipes away the snow that covers the window on the driver’s side; inside he can make out a body that’s laying on its side face obscured by the thick collar of the jacket; he pulls the door open carefully and nudges the body to see if they’re conscious or not; when there’s no movement he peels the collar from their face

- Simon thinks he is no longer able to panic; he survived through his father’s and brother’s abuse; then he joined the military where they taught him to surpass any fears and to control himself; then the Mexican cartel who buried him alive; that experience showed him what terror looks like; only to return home and find all the people that he held dear massacred; Ghost is the result of so many horrifying events; he is the cautionary tale of what prolonged survival in a malignant environment looks like

- the level of fear matches that of when he found the body of Beth hugging Josep’s smaller one; he acts without thinking, grabbing your limp and cold body and pulling you out of the wreckage; your head is bleeding from where you hit it on the window; lips are blue and your skin cold to the touch; he checks for a pulse; he can’t tell if he feels yours or his own; his hands are trembling with rage and powerlessness; he grabs for the radio’ telling Price he’d found you but you need medical assistance immediately; there’s no answer on the other side; just static

- he hoists you up and takes you to the stolen truck placing you in the front seat; he climbs in the driver’s seat letting you down slowly over the seat head resting on his lap; he puts the heat on high trying to make you warm again; he checks for your breathing and he’s thrilled to find that small puffs of air come from your open mouth

- he starts driving, he doesn’t know where; he neds a safe house to treat your wounds and to keep you safe; the snow is falling heavy, making impossible to see where he’s driving; then he sees it; to the side he can make out a building in the tree line

- the abandoned cottage is nothing more than a ruin; but it has four walls and a roof and he’s glad to see a small fireplace, dry wood abandoned next to it; he puts you down on what he can only assume is what remained of a thick rug long forgotten by its previous owners; he works quickly and efficiently, in mere minutes a fire burns casting a warm glow in the barren room

- he moves to work on you; he peels the jacket off only to find that you are nearly naked under the stolen clothes; he gets angrier at the Russians wishing he could bring them back only to subject them to the same kind of torture they did you and some more; he quickly checks for deeper cuts or signs of infection; but he can’t find none; they must’ve given you antibiotics to keep you alive as much as possible;

- he cleans the cuts with the antiseptic wet wipes his med kit contains; then he dresses the wounds with gauze; your thin body looks like a mummy from the amount gauze; he addresses your head next wiping the blood of and bandaging your forehead; he sighs in relief when your lips and skin slowly turn pink from the warmth; you lay in between his legs as he sits on the floor, your head laying on his thigh

- he tries contacting 141 again, but to no avail; looks like he’ll have to hold out here tonight; he’ll stay awake to protect you until you wake up

- it’s morning when you stir, he watches your face intently from above you; your eyelids groggily open eyes trying to focus; as you lay eyes on brown ones, hidden behind a black balaclava you start to panic; you weakly push at his hands and chest, mumbling and trying to get away from him; he doesn’t relent though; his grip is firm on you and in a commanding voice he orders you to sit still; hearing your name does the trick; you didn’t tell those fuckers your name; and his embrace is not restraining more like protecting; you think hard and try to remember eyes flickering over the balaclava; ‘Ghost…’ you croak when your vocal chords decide to vibrate; ‘Gho…’ you repeat even more brokenly; he shushes you and reassures you that yes, he’s here and no, he won’t go anywhere; not without you; that puts your mind at ease and you close your eyes again

-when you wake up again is noon; he feeds you some water through cracked and dry lips and he gives you a dose of morphine to help with the pain; that sends you back to sleep

- the third time you wake, you are being carried by strong arms; the sound of blades cutting air becomes louder and louder; Ghost walks backwards shielding you from the snow that’s being picked up by the gusts of wind;

- he climbs the heli; Nik greets Ghost, as Soap and Gaz pull him and you inside; the ride is silent, no one says anything; the Russian pilot takes you to a better equipped safehouse

- you wake up to someone entering the room; you’re in a warm comfortable bed, IV connected to your wrist fluid being pumped in your veins; you open your eyes to a dark-haired man bringing in a tray of food; you panic again when you hear him greet you, voice laced with a deep Russian accent; he sees the look on your face and he slowly puts the tray on the table; ‘Don’t vorry, I’m Nick. A friend ov 141. I von’t hurt yu, agent’; he tells you it’s nice to finally put a face to the name, and that you are prettier than Gaz told him; you watch him in silence, regarding him with apprehension; when he stops talking, you look to the door and ask for Ghost

- he chuckles knowingly and then informs you that “your boy” is being ripped a new one by the captain just outside, and he leaves you to tell Price that your awake; you don’t have time to correct him cause he already out the door; Price walks in soon after, you’re glad to see him; ‘Ah, there you are’ he smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes; he asks you how you’re feeling; numb thanks to the morphine; he wants to know what happened

- it was a trap; they were waiting for you, Russians; they wanted to know who you were and who did you work for; you told them nothing; he knows; he asks you about your time in the facility; you don’t quite remember much, just the torture and the questions; he tells you that you did good, and that you need to rest now;

- Gaz and Soap stop by to talk to you a bit; you tell them you’ll be fine; and then you ask for Ghost; they rub their necks a little ashamed; you asked them what happened; Ghost got scolded for going AWOL in search for you; Price even threatened him with the court martial; you huff; and swing the blanket off; you sit at the ledge of the bed; you’re glad to find you’ve been clothed in a pair of slacks and a long sleeve shirt; you grab the IV needle and pull hard on it; then you stand grabbing the table for support

- the two sergeants move forward to catch you if you fall; you wave them away and move towards the door; you search the living room for any signs of Ghost; instead, Price and Nik talk about something at the dinner table; when Price sees you up and about, despite him telling you to rest, he mutters a ‘Bloody stubborn they are’ and points toward the kitchen; you thank him; you can hear Nik commenting something about you and Ghost deserving each other; but you keep walking, slowly, one hand on the wall for balance

- Ghost stands by the window, his back turned to you; he ignores your poor attempt at greeting him; without thinking you cross the distance and hug his waist burying your nose in his hoodie; he tenses

- ‘I’m probably high right now,’ you nuzzle your face in his back inhaling his scent: soap, cigarettes and something you can’t quite tell; ‘thank you, for coming after me’; you let go of him turning to go back to rest; he grabs your upper arm and gently turns you; he watches you closely, you can feel his breath on your face, and smell the cigarette on his lips; his balaclava is pushed up his nose; he stares into your eyes as he speaks ‘Tell me to stop’ his eyes shift to your lips

- ‘Please don’t’; he kisses you, deeply and for a long time; you pull away for air ‘Ghost, I…’ ‘No,’ he cuts you off; ‘Simon, my name is Simon’ you smile lost in his pretty brown eyes; ‘Simon Riley’ and he surprises you taking his balaclava off; you stare at him, trying to memorize every scar and blemish; he’s handsome, in a rugged way; blonde hair, pale skin, and brown eye; you kiss him again.

Previous part here.

#cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley fanfic #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you

41 notes · View notes

kenny-the-ken · 1 year

Text

Y O U + M E

Part 1

Soooo!!! Last nights South Park was everything I wanted but didn't know I needed!!! Kenny with his hood I mean,,, I am deceased. I'm having some serious writer's block, so please feel free to send me requests, HCs too!! I wanna get to know you all, and thanks for all the love on my previous fics. I normally hate my writing so knowing you guys like it is amazing!! This fic contains string language, angst, toxic thinking, obsession and sexual themes. ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP!! If you guys like this fic I can write more parts!! Loosely based on the Netflix show YOU!!!

Kenny hasn't been with another girl since the last time, and that was not something he wanted to repeat. That was until his eye was caught by you, and he couldn't tear his eyes away.

You were new here, family just moved to town and you had transferred to South Park High, and he was determined to know more about you.

It's not an obsession, he isn't obsessed, is he? So far he knew your name was y/n, you had moved here from the UK, so quite a far away from home, you were shy, trying your best to fit in, you were alternative in how you dressed, Kenny has already touched himself thinking about you, and he swore it was the best wank he'd ever had! It was clear to him that you were thirsty for that kind of attention, blushing as other boys talked and flirted with you, and his blood boiled, you would be his, who the fuck did these other guys think they were? How dare they even look at you in that way!

Although he didn't blame them, those short skirts, tight tops with too much cleavage and today was the day that Kenny's resolve broke, he could no longer watch from the sidelines, you were wearing the shortest shorts he'd ever seen with knee high socks and a lace bralette, no bra! God he was going insane. You had a flannel shirt tied loosely around your waist and Doc Martin boots on, and god you had tattoos! He swore you were so angelic looking it was sinful, and he knew he had to talk to you, before someone else could shoot their shot. You would be his. He was damned sure of it.

One problem though, how to approach you without creeping you out? You didn't know him, but he knew you, you were both meant for each other, you just didn't know it yet, but how to catch your attention. He'd have to think, and fast.

That was before his perverse thoughts were interrupted by the harsh ringing of the bell.

"Fuck." He muttered under his breath, slamming his locker in annoyance before making his way to English class, plopping down on his seat, lost in his own thoughts as the rest of the class filtered into the room.

He was once again distracted from his thoughts about you by the scent of your perfume, his head rising as you both met each others gaze, you smiled at him, as he gave you a gapped tooth smile back.

Trust the teacher to ruin his shot!

"Quiet class! I have a lot planned for todays lesson so let's cut to the chase, I have paired you all up for group work, you will be working in pairs! This is an analysis of the prose we have been reading, and I expect a presentation and a written essay that both of you must present to the class next week."

She turned her back, writing on the chalk board who was paired together, and Kenny swore his heart skipped a beat when he noticed he was paired with you. He's never wanted to fist bump the air so much in all his life, but he didn't want you to notice him geeking out over you.

"Please sit next to your partner and get started straight away!" You teacher said to the class, and you moved your seat beside Kenny's, you both sharing a desk.

"Hey, I'm y/n, I'm new here from the UK so sorry if some of what I say doesn't make sense, our slang is hard to forget." You laughed, and Kenny nodded.

"Most people can't understand me either." He mumbled, his hood up. Let her see your face, idiot! His brain almost screamed at him as he unzipped his coat, taking his hood down, and it didn't go unnoticed by his friends. They knew he was hot on your tail, and what Kenny wants, he gets.

Your mouth was wide as you studied your partners face, a blush on your cheeks. He was hot, his fluffy blonde hair sitting messily atop his head, his pale skin and subtle freckles and that adorable little gappy smile. Fuck! You'd only moved a week ago and already you were crushing on someone.

"I'm Kenny. We can meet at the park after school and work on our project if you're up for up it?" He offered, you would definitely be turned off if you seen how his family were and what his home was like, and he was not losing you because of his parents and their usual neglectful bullshit.

"Or you could swing by my house? I'll get us coffee and order some pizza?" You offered, twiddling your pen between your thumb and forefinger, trying to avoid direct eye contact out of fear of blushing in front of him.

"That sounds a million times better, thanks." Kenny replied, a small smile on his face, he took this opportunity to sneak a quick look at your cleavage, and he swore he could make out the shape of your hard nipples through your bralette, and were those piercings?! Fuck, what were you doing to him? Don't get hard, Jesus Christ don't get hard!

"Can I have your number? So I can send you my address?" You asked, offering him your phone to punch his number into.

And he gladly accepted, typing his number on to your phone, and while you were distracted talking to Wendy he quickly installed a tracking app on your phone, just so he could know where you were at all times, to keep you safe of course.

"There you go." Kenny replied, holding your phone out to you as you took it from him, smiling at him.

"So... tell me a little about you, Kenny?" His eyebrow quirked at your sudden question. Were you wanting to find out more about him because you were partnered with him and just being friendly? Or did you ask because you were interested in getting to know him, because he wanted to know everything there was to know about you.

"I'm eighteen, I've lived in South Park for my whole life, and I've always been known of the poorest kid of the school, thanks to Eric over there." He said, nodding his head in the direction we're the older boy sat, you could hear him laughing at his own jokes, he seemed like an ass.

"I have a brother and a younger sister, Kevin and Karen. Just a warning though, people here love to gossip, so if anyone is bothering you, let me know." Kenny said kindly, his eyes not tearing from you once, it was as if you two were the only people in the room, god how was he going to control himself when he was in your bedroom, just you two.

"So tell me a little about yourself, y/n." Kenny inquired, and he was genuinely interested, soul mates needed to know all there was about each other, and he was determined to know you, he just hoped that you'd let him.

"Um... I'm eighteen too, I'm an only child, live with my mother, but she has some... problems, y'know?" You said, and Kenny knew exactly what you meant, his parents were the crème de la crème of drug and alcohol addicts, so he knew fine and well what she meant. Maybe they moved here for a new start.

"You smoke?" He asked curiously.

"Yeah, you smoke weed?" You asked back, a small smirk on your face.

"Fuck yeah, I've dabbled with a lot of drugs, I mean, I've been exposed to them all my life." Kenny said, his eyes staring at his table, then back to you.

"I'll buy pizza and get us coffees if you bring the weed, deal?" You asked, putting your hand out to the blonde boy in front of you.

"Deal!" Kenny said, a smirk on his own face as the bell rang for the end of class.

You began packing up your things off your table and into your bag and as you bent down to grab your pen that had fallen on the floor, Kenny thought his eyes had popped fully out of his head. He stared at your ass and your thick thighs and my god how he wanted his head between them.

When you stood back up you finished packing and turned to see Kenny was waiting on you.

"If you wanna grab lunch together you can come with with me?" He asked, a small smile on his face, and boy did he hope that you said yes.

"That sounds lovely. Thanks, Kenny." You replied, throwing your back pack over your shoulder and beginning to walk out of the classroom with Kenny.

You could feel the eyes of other girls burning into the back of you as you both walked down the corridor, chatting together and making jokes as you both erupted into laughter.

Even though he was fully fixated on what you were talking about, Kenny was dazed, he was deep in thought, and it was all about you. About how your shirts hugged that perfectly round ass, how sensitive your nipples would be, what piercings would adorn them, did you have any tattoos that he couldn't see? His mind swirled.

As you both entered the cafeteria, he smiled and waved at his friends, before leading you over to introduce you.

"Guys, this is y/n m, she's new here. Y/n this is Eric, Kyle, Stan, Jimmy, Craig and Tweek." He said, pointing to each individual as he said their names, and you smiled.

"Hey guys, hopefully we can all be friends." You said, taking a seat between Kenny and Kyle.

"Kenny, how did you manage to get this pretty girl to befriend you?" Stan blurred outright, his cheeks going red as he averted both of your gazes.

"Um, we got partnered up together in English and it looks like we have a lot in common, and Kenny seems really nice." You said as the rest of the group nodded as if in sync.

"That makes sense." Kyle said to no one in particular and Kenny was in his own world again. You thought he was nice? He was making a good start, now he had to get you to fall in love with him, and he was pretty sure he knew how.

The rest of the day was pretty much standard procedure as far as Kenny was concerned, you had texted him, telling him to come over at 7pm.

So he had some free time on his hands. And he knew exactly what to do with it.

#kenny mccormick #kenny mccormick smut #kenny mccormick x reader #kenny south park #eric cartman #stan marsh #kyle south park #kyle brovlofski #stan south park #south park

224 notes · View notes

chalk-boy · 1 year

Text

BIRTHDAY HCS

How'd they plan your birthday party!

A/N:It's my birthday!(May 5th)

Characters:The Astral express crew

Warnings:None

Their role

March would be in charge of decorations and cake

Dan Heng would be in charge of keeping you off the Express

Pom Pom would be in charge of the organization of the party and food

Welt and Hemiko would be in charge of wrapping gifts

Gifts

March would either get you a Stuffed animal or matching bracelets(Or both)

Dan heng would probably get you a book or just money

Welt would write you a card and probably give you some clothes(Grandparent move)

Hemiko money, just money

Pom Pom literally anything you want

Together they would create a scrapbook full of pictures(Took by March ofc) and have a page devoted to each person where they wrote little notes/thanks for joining the family

Other

March wouldn't be aloud to see you until the party(She can't keep a secret)

Pom Pom would make sure to have all your favorite foods

You and Dan heng had a picnic or went to a library

#Chalk boy hcs #chalk boy #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #dan heng x reader #march 7th x reader #welt x reader #himiko x reader #birthday #birthday post #ᓚᘏᗢRed lily's writing #TheDragonzStash

167 notes · View notes

glyhpsrfvckincol · 1 year

Note

If requests are open can I request Hunter x reader hcs in which his S/O is really sensitive to loud and sudden noises but also likes quieter calming noises (heartbeats, purring, wind/water, etc)

Thanks if you do! ^^

Sensitivity || Hunter Noceda

Synopsis - Hunter Noceda helping his sensitive hearing s/o.

Warnings - Mention of screaming. Mention of Mommy kink. Teasing.

Request are opened; headcanons only

↳ He understands to a certain degree. He doesn’t like people suddenly yelling.

↳ Hunter didn’t know that it was more than yelling that set you off though.

↳ He learned this when he dropped a pot in Camila’s kitchen. T_T

↳ He felt so bad.

↳ Just held you and apologised a few million times. Very quietly.

↳ Also, someone talking suddenly, specifically someone he didn’t know was there scares the wood bones out of him.

↳ Hunter gets flustered easily. Trust me, this is helpful.

↳ This makes his heart rate go faster.

↳ Just rest your head on his chest. He’ll become flushed, which would immediately increase his heart rate, slightly amplifying its sound and becoming even more calming.

↳ Will just fly you over the ocean on Flapjack. The sound of the water and the blowing wind. No talking, unless you instigate it first .

↳ Hunter also finds peace in these moments. Just you, him and FlapJack, who eventually becomes Waffles :(

↳ I just made myself sad, I’m so sorry😭

↳ In the human realm, he def would ask amity to burrow Ghost so you could hear her purrs. She agrees to this under one condition.

↳ She gets to tease Hunter. It only lasts 20 minutes because she gets bored.

↳ Hunter really hopes bird Chirps is a sound you like and that doesn’t overstimulate you.

↳ If rain is a good sound, he’ll just sit outside or by the window with you while you do whatever.

↳ Hunter will cover you’re ears while you sleep if you’re an incredibly light sleeper.

↳ Does anyone else hate the sounds of certain words? My friend speaks Cantonese and a particular sound bothers me. I don’t know why 😭

↳ And nails being dragged down chalk boards!

↳ Hunter will ask people to be quiet if there’s too much noise.

↳ “Luz, whatever game you’re playing, I KNOW for a fact it doesn’t need this much noise. Shut up!”

↳ Sassy siblings.

↳ If you like his voice {Lets be honest, who doesn’t?}, he’ll read you Cosmic Frontiers.

↳ With the book, The Good Witch Azura, he’d prefer Amity reading to you as Luz is very loud. Maybe he might read it to you.

↳ Listening to him learn Spanish I believe would be so calming. Like damn bro, it’s pronounced Mami, not mommy-

↳ Firm believer Hunter has a mommy kink.

↳ If time is set before Kings Tide, Hunter would tease you occasionally. Fucking hypocrite-

↳ But I digress, Hunter will always try to help you with your sensitive ears, just give the boy a bit of a direction.

#the owl house #toh #hunter noceda x reader #hunter noceda #hunter wittebane #hunter wittebane x reader #toh hunter #the owl house x reader #toh hunter x reader #toh x reader #toh wad #toh ftf #toh ttt #toh watching and dreaming #toh for the future #toh thanks to them #toh mama camila

282 notes · View notes

lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 2 years

Note

Can I have Yandere Silver hc?

You don’t see it coming no one does

He’s like that airheaded friend that occasionally says something really motivated

Otherwise he’s chillin’ out

And that's what you expect

Your sleepy friend that is dutiful when he needs to be

But in truth he’s an obsessed boy who doesn’t have a good reign on his emotions

He’s the type to say suspicious things about his general attraction to you

Having lived with fae that don’t exactly work on aligning their mating customs with the rest of the world

The first time Ace and Deuce shout at him for ‘complimenting’ you he’s going to refer to his father

Who is just chalk-full of….great advice

“So what exactly did you say?”

“I said that in those clothes they looked especially breedable, today.”

“Wow, so sweet! But let's rephrase that and maybe don’t share it with their friends.”

“Why?”

“Silver, I’m sure you know how the enemy isn’t going to give you a head start? Same applies here, the competition isn’t going to cheer you on.”

“Oh, okay.”

He’ll try and be as normal about it as possible

But every now and again he’ll slip because your just so–

“-irresistible.”

“What?”

“Oh nothing. Just that the bunny you're holding is...irresistible.”

“I know right it's so cool how all these cuties hang around you!”

“You’re the only cutie I want around, though.”

“What?!”

“Nothing.”

He finds the activity he gets to easily keep you to himself is sleeping

Using you as an impromptu pillow during his naps keeps you pinned in one spot

And him able to monitor any interactions

“(Y/n) can I rest my head on your lap?”

“I don’t know Silvy, I don’t want my legs to be asleep when I try to go to class…”

“But being so close to you makes me the most comfortable…”

“Ugh fine, go ahead just stop looking at me with those droopy sad eyes .”

#yandere x reader #yanderexrea #yandere x you #yanderes #yandere #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland silver #silver #silver vanrouge #yandere silver x reader #yandere silver #yandere silver headcannons #papa lilia

459 notes · View notes

fangsforiris · 20 days

Note

Hi! Could you do some general crush headcanons for Shu? He's my absolute favourite character and I love how you write him! ❤️❤️❤️

₊˚ ‿︵‿୨୧·♡·୨୧‿︵‿ ˚₊

Shū Sakamaki Crush HC's

₊˚ ‿︵‿୨୧·♡·୨୧‿︵‿ ˚₊

Thank you, Anon. He's also one of my favourites, so this was fun to write!!

Word Count: 1192 Included Topics: General, Physical, & Emotional/Personality.

₊˚ ‿︵‿୨୧·♡·୨୧‿︵‿ ˚₊

General Crush HC's:

💛 Right off the bat, Shū wouldn’t want to believe it.

💛 Let alone accept that he’d ever have a crush.

💛 He’s not a little boy anymore. He’s grown up, he’s an adult. There’s no reason for him to be feeling this sort of attachment again.

💛 It’s something he’d chalk up to his mind playing tricks on him again.

💛 Not to mention, that this was juvenile. Shū isn’t like Ayato or Subaru. He doesn’t have time to be messing around with these types of feelings.

💛 However, considering he’s the oldest, and has had the most experience with this feeling, he’d know the signs straight away.

💛 Especially when it's concerning his quick changes. Or anything involving him at all.

💛 From the way he became more proactive, to caring a bit more in the way he came across to others (or more specifically… you.), and the way he had the urge of being something.

💛 It doesn’t look like it, but when Shū was younger he definitely was more of a ‘fangirl’ crush-haver. But in secret of course.

💛 He’d be our current day ‘delulu is the solulu’ girls/boys. The ones who’d find it refreshing and fun to be in love.

💛 Looks are very deceiving with this one when he’s in love.

💛 He’d over analyze every single interaction, and would hope for the best.

💛 (His over analyzing mode: on.)

💛 Despite his overly nonchalant demeanor, when he was younger he was much more alive. (It was to the point where you’d assume, even from other vampires, that he was a human.)

💛 But in the current day, it’d be the small things. He was still modest with his crushes, shockingly.

💛 That’d be the one thing his younger self and current self shared.

💛 They valued the small things. Attention to detail.

💛 Like if you remembered the band he liked, but let slip out in conversation, or noticed his change in hair product, along with the way he’d use slight makeup to accentuate his eyes, he’d adore you.

💛 When people pay attention to the smaller things that seem mundane, the things that make sense to complete a person, just like he tends to do in others,

💛 (which is the reason why he tends to get the full picture of how people are right in 5-10 minutes tops,)

💛 it secretly drives him mad. Mad with love if you get what I mean.

💛 But he’d resent this feeling. He hates it.

💛 After what happened with Edgar (Yūma)... he hasn’t yet recovered completely.

💛 If it’s serious, he’ll loathe himself and do anything and everything to get rid of that funny feeling in his chest.

💛 The one that makes him lose his breath, almost like the way he did when Edgar’s village was set aflame. Not a soul to be found.

💛 Everything seemingly goes back to Edgar with this one.

💛 It’s the subconscious fear that anything he ever shows slight interest in, would immediately be ripped away.

💛 Especially those he cares for.

₊˚ ‿︵‿୨୧·♡·୨୧‿︵‿ ˚₊

Physical Crush HC's:

💛 Realistically this would last around 2 weeks. Maybe even less.

💛 Shū’s more of the type of person to admire someone’s looks from afar. Almost like a beautiful painting of sorts.

💛 He’d get over it quickly. He is constantly surrounded by women and men alike who want his attention and practically throw themselves at him.

💛 So he’d at least by that time, find others who are attractive, even more so than the last.

💛 The one thing to differentiate from a simple acknowledgement of ‘they’re attractive’ and a settlement of ‘stuck in your head for a bit’ for Shū is the way they carry themselves. Consistently.

💛 If he were to cross their paths in the halls or in a class frequently, it’d be that one determining factor that would allow him to determine if they’re worthy prey or something to admire.

💛 It varies, but Shū can appreciate all types of beauty.

💛 The same way he can in music, he knows that everyone follows their own tune.

💛 Each individual is molded to fit their tune, their melody.

💛 So even if someone isn’t as conventionally attractive, it’s the small gestures or aura they give off.

💛 He can shockingly find even a small thing to like about people, even if he isn’t as favourable to them.

💛 Part of it is from his training to become heir.

💛 When dealing with so many people, you learn that even if they aren’t the greatest, some do have a hidden asset which makes them valuable in a sense.

₊˚ ‿︵‿୨୧·♡·୨୧‿︵‿ ˚₊

Emotional/Personality Crush HC’s:

💛 Now this… this would last quite a bit.

💛 When Shū falls, he falls hard.

💛 Much to his dismay, it’s one of his biggest weaknesses when falling in love.

💛 He has double sided feelings, however.

💛 A) To adore and cherish them, whilst ensuring he devotes himself and treats them right, despite his flaws. It’d go to the point where he’d have motivation to change for the better.

💛 B) Shut himself in and avoid them at all costs. All in the name of letting these stupid feelings go away, due to his fear of ruining everything just like he did with Edgar.

💛 He can’t have it on his conscience to be the reason for another innocent life being lost. All due to his stupidity and naivety.

💛 You bet that he’d overanalyze everything.

💛 His younger self would make a guest star appearance.

💛 If it’s really bad, you’d even see him talking to Reiji about it.

💛 That would be when Shū’d be caught off guard, lowering his walls to let Reiji in and talk about what it was that made him fall deeply in love.

💛 Queue Reiji’s annoyance.

💛 At first, he’d wonder if he should ruin another thing. But once he sees Shū’s proactivity and want to change and step up.

💛 Get this man a stool and clipboard. Because they’ll be here all night, and then some.

💛 He’d get sick and tired of listening to Shū ramble on, though.

💛 Like imagine the text messages, snaps, insta dm’s, and talking in person. (Assuming they’d use those social medias.)

💛 Reiji would wonder if this was a good idea. But part of him would be happy to have the old Shū back. Even if it’s because of someone other than him.

💛 (Semi-canon that he also wants Shū’s approval and validation. And once valued what Shū thought/wanted of him. Especially as his elder.)

💛 Reiji would have bittersweet feelings.

💛 But would be fine with it nonetheless.

💛 And if Shū had doubts or inclinations of wanting to put up all his walls again, Reiji would (shockingly) play good brother and reassure him that it’d be okay.

💛 This is assuming that Reiji likes you. Or thinks you’re a good influence on Shū and the family name (mainly Shū but he wouldn’t want to admit that he cared about Shū, or was, to a degree, over-protective of him.)

₊˚ ‿︵‿୨୧·♡·୨୧‿︵‿ ˚₊

#ask reply #diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers headcanons #dl hcs #shuu sakamaki #mentioned reiji sakamaki

28 notes · View notes

multifandomenjoyerr · 2 months

Text

🥛Flip!Mob headcanons

🥛a/n | honestly because why not. He's so Flip coded to me so have some Flip hcs of my favorite boy:D

🥛 cws | bugs (ants mention)

Prns — he/him

Role — Flip!big brother cg, baby and older kid regressor

Age — little: 4-9

Verb status — verbal

🧮 Cg hcs

🥛: definition of a teddy bear. Basically, a very sweet and ideal cg if you're more on the low energized side.

🥛: speaking of low energized littles, he works amazing with littles who do little/nothing when they're little. Since he's a little low-energized himself; he'll know how to work with you if you are. If not, that's okay too! He flexes very well when he's in caregiver space

🥛: bored? He'll suggest some things to do! Of course he suggests things that requires not alot of spoon energy (unless ofc you're more active then he will suggest that instead) but things like napping, watching movies/shows/cartoons or coloring is always on his top suggestions list. If you ask, he'll take you to the park and let you loose to do what your hearts content. (Of course he still watches over you to make sure you don't get hurt)

🥛: at the park: if he's involved and not just sitting on the benches he'll suggest the swing! If you wanted to he will push you on the swing. If you're a bug lover little, he'll watch anthills with you

🥛: kinda basic on petnames but will call you things like kiddo and bud. But he's open to suggestions as well. He also prefers if you call him things like big brother, baba, bubby, etc etc..

🥛: if you two were in public he'll always hold your hand if necessary. He doesn't want his little one to wander off out of his sight afterall.

🥛: loves to build pillow forts with you. In the end you both could sleep in it if you wanted to

🥛: works surprisingly well for nonverbal / semi verb littles. Since he's more observant with body language: he'd understand what you need and want

🥛: constantly visits the library if you ever wanted him to rent out your favorite movie to watch (or a few, sometimes he gets a couple movies for you)

🩹 Little hcs

🥛: just a sleepy boy. He always needs a nap.

🥛: not much changes from how he is when big. Low energized and overall quiet baby who prefers to be alone most of the time.

🥛: doesn't have a caregiver, nor does he think he needs/want one. He is perfectly capable of taking care of himself no matter his little age. Though he welcomes occasional babysitters and/or playmates.

🥛: doesn't have much gear but he owns a black bat themed sippy cup. Ofc his favorite little drink is milk and varieties (bc why not)

🥛: he mostly sleeps when little. Literally 80% of his schedule is napping. He can nap for hours and hours and wake up even more tired by the end of it. If he's not asleep at home he's outside collecting bugs or coloring during his spare time

🥛: honestly if he had a playdate with pet regressors he'd get along with puppy regressors 100%. Also kitty regressors if they're as energetic as he is

🥛: doesn't really like being babied but it mostly depends on the time of day. At night he encourages you to baby him but if it's during morning or in the noon he'll disprove of it

🥛: the only petname he likes to be called is: kid. Otherwise you can just call him by his nickname. he doesn't mind.

🥛: eats everything in sight so it's recommended you keep things that he shouldn't put in his mouth away from him. Specifically chalk, grass and any type of glue

#sfw agere #agerespace #fandom agere #agere blog #sfw blog #agere headcanons #mob psycho agere #mob psycho 100 agere #mp100 agere

20 notes · View notes

oursidae · 3 months

Text

IF YOU INSIST

takes your hands. come on this journey with me. for reference i consider kiryu to be exclusively gay but i feel like a lot of this except one bit also applies when reading him through a bisexual lens also <3 come listen to me talk about the way kiryu touches himself and how it changes throughout his life <3

i think when he was in his 20s he was a hedonist, far less so than nishiki but still, basically a frat boy, a horny 20 yr old. i dont imagine him having any actual sex partners during this time, in fact i think he's a virgin well into his middle age at Least. so he jacked off a lot. usually into his fist. i can see him making a fleshlight with 2 wet sponges and a cup. sometimes he got brave and touched his ass but felt so ashamed of it the days after he would be jumpy around nishiki and any other yakuza. (real yakuza cant like men...camera zooms in on kashiwagi) tldr hes so closeted and has so much internal homophobia it leeches into how he pleasures himself and knowing he might like sex in "unorthodox" ways is frightening in ways he doesnt super understand. ofc over the events of 0 he has bigger things to worry about but 0 is when i think kiryu's attraction to men comes to the forefront, through tachibana. (and also pocket circuit fighter.)

then, he goes to jail for 10 years. i think this period severely stunts him, because we know kiryu loves to just compartmentalize and shove all of the scary feelings down so he can just keep ignoring them, and being an invisible inmate makes that so much easier. any self pleasure he does during and immediately after this time is quick, utilitarian. dry and chafing just getting it over with, you know? any emotion attached to the act is a distant staticky buzz in the back of his mind.

of course im a kazumaji truther so during yakuza 1/kiwami, majima introduces to him a new level of sexual frustration that leads to him exploring pain and masochism by himself. majima doesnt *give* him this fetish, so much as he just opened the locked door to it. he digs his fingers into the cuts and bruises majima leaves on him and turns the shower water up until its scalding because if he didnt do this in the shower he'd pass out after with dried cum on himself. i think his feelings toward majima during this time are frightening spaghetti to him - something im sure irritates majima to no end, majima in my mind is far more assured of himself and who he is and his own sexuality and attraction to other men - and i dont think that kiryu does much in the way of exploration around this time aside from the odd burst of confidence (we were robbed by the banana bar substory.) he might try to touch his ass again here and there but theres still that twist of shame that he cant quite shake. i dont know when exactly i hc him entering a relationship with majima, if at All (i love the angst), but if he is having sex with majima at this time i think that relationship kicks his Growth into overdrive and he overcomes those hurdles a lot easier.

shame, i think, holds kiryu back a lot, because if he is this way, he isnt what is expected of him. if that makes sense. kiryu is supposed to shoulder it all alone and keep the tojo clan from sinking and there isnt room in that power fantasy for taking it up the ass and finding comfort in another mans arms, because this series is rife with toxic masculinity and commentary on it here and there.

on theme with burying his feelings and how peoples expectations of him affect him, kiryu in 2/kiwami 2 is DEEPLY SUICIDAL. like the whole game. if you havent noticed. kiwami 2 is one of my least favorite games of the series so this may color my judgment here a little. i think both kiryu and kaoru were experiencing comphet as their relationship progressed, especially the weird makeout next to her brothers corpse. you do weird things under stress, adrenaline, and trauma, and thats what i chalk this part of the game up to. i dont see him engaging in much, if any, self loving around this time period because of his severe depression, ptsd, and deep desire to end it all. if he does its in the "i might as well" way, or just to make time pass. he might even engage in it in a compulsory way, because he knows he'll feel a little better by the end bc orgasming does that, but its literally just for that purpose, not to Feel Good in a sexual way. just to hurry up and crank one out in the shower so he can get it together enough to get haruka to school.

kiryu has growing to do when he starts raising children and does his best to let go of any predjudices he has, but i think he still struggles with his own attraction to men. he never ever would teach his kids anything but to be kind, even if they find something odd. but he cant afford that kindness to himself. when i was in elementary school, i came home one day and told my mom "today i learned from my friend that gay is when boys like boys and that lesbian is when girls like girls :)" and then...that was that. she was like. "ah. okay... who said that to you? i see. did he say anything else about it?" and she didnt really push me to one conclusion about those facts. thats kind of how i see kiryu navigating some of these conversations. he'd steer them toward the kind option, if they needed it, but sometimes "yeah thats right. gay men are men who like men. lesbians are women who like women." is all you need, the confirmation that its real, and the neutrality that means yeah its fine.

and i think haruka is the most perceptive of kiryu bc of how they have grown together so like She Knows. if anyone puts the pieces together besides majima itd have to be her. and i think the conversation they one day (probably not around 3-era, unsure where i'd place this) have kind of also touches on harukas own bisexuality bc nothing abt what she did w that one girl she was friends with in 5 was hetero. 2 me. i wish I could be more coherent about this scene in my head, but i feel like its a conversation where a lot remains unsaid but is innately understood. they dance around the topic because saying it outright teeters on too much, but they know what theyre talking about. the love between them is unconditional.

anyway he doesnt have much time to masturbate when running the orphanage, but because he's busy with chores and taking care of a bunch of kids who he loves. plus thin walls. but hes gentler with himself when he does. maybe he starts foraying into men strictly in pornography, he's got magazines under the futon or looks up crusty jpegs on his phone or something. he lets go of some of the shame because he's found somewhere else where it feels right for him to be. he is so happy in okinawa it drives me crazy.

skipping over 4 bc he's still in okinawa for the majority of that game until saejima and company wash up on his beach and then he has to go back to kamurocho, during the events of 5 he is NOT touching himself. he hates himself so much in that game. he hardly showers. he lives with a woman and covers up her naked body when she strips in front of him. his boss is pointing out how gay everyone at his job thinks he is but insisting its okay but being clocked like that is a super specific punch to the gut that he wasnt really prepared for and really flusters him. for the most part i dont think his dick exists to him. he's sitting to pee. he hasnt gotten it up in months.

i blocked 6 from my memory for the most part except how kiryu in a baseball uniform makes my dick hard. haruka and yuta i think r bi4bis my girl deserves it.

post 6, he is not Kiryu Kazuma anymore, and despite the pain that comes from forced separation from his family, being a different person is so freeing. he gets to explore things. he gets to let his shoulders drop and relax for the first time since 2005. im playing thru gaiden right now and already dont remember all of the daidoji restrictions on him but by now he's pretty much fully realized himself and embraced his sexuality. he lets himself have his fantasies. he's become a bit of a hedonist like he was in his 20s with far more easy access to gay porn and sex toys. i know my man has a butt plug in his gay ass!!! i love bottom kiryu. have i ever said how much i love bottom kiryu. i think he has nights where he puts on a porn video and treats himself. i think he has some drinks and a cigarette and fingers himself and plays with his balls and teases himself until his orgasm sneaks up on him. and then he takes a shower and goes to sleep in his underwear. is he completely healthy? absolutely not. his self sacrificial streak and need to bear all of the pain by himself is why he's here. he still has unaddressed severe trauma and depression. but he can fingerfuck himself and watch gay porn without his stomach churning over the fact that he actually wants this, so progress is progress.

i need to stress. i started thinking about all this. because i put kiryu in this outfit

and thought about him putting on dark plum colored lipstick and looking at himself in the mirror and smudging it a little and getting so hard that he gets lightheaded and immediately needing to jack off about it. i would say im going to write that fic but i know i wont.

#yakuza #kiryu kazuma #kazuma kiryu #character analysis #my post #this is so incoherent. i copypasted a lot of it from when i was infodumpijg at my bf about kiryu wanking

19 notes · View notes