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honeyandbloodpoetry · 1 year

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Transman Jack Krauser x Transmasculine Reader

I usually write far more detailed things than this, but I'm currently in the ER and thought this would be a fun thing to brainstorm. I hope y'all enjoy. This is my poetry/writing blog but you can find more of my content on @toadwarts and @boipussybiohazard I definitely plan to write more of this along with Krauser dating hcs!

First Meeting

• Krauser comes back to consciousness after being stabbed by Leon. He is injured and not particularly able to move, but Albert Wesker has been keeping an eye on him. Agents are sent to retrieve his body and are shocked when Krauser is in fact alive, if barely.

• Wesker dedicates time and resources to healing Krauser, with the written contract that Krauser will now become one of his agents. Krauser is a BOW now, and Wesker has enabled it so that he may mutate at will. The Plagas could not be removed without killing Krauser, but it could be modified. When not mutated, Krauser's arm and face are still disabled--leading to difficulty with facial expressions and motor impairment.

• Krauser knows how to do one thing well, and that's following orders. Him guiding Leon to finish him off was the first decision he had made completely on his own and it failed. He is empty, a shell of a person, and has nothing to live for. He does work for Wesker and he does it well.

• Krauser has to forcibly de-mutate after a heavy skirmish. Going in and out of mutating is incredibly painful, but it was neccessary this time. He is badly hurt and finds you cutting through some allies to get home--he demands medical items, food, water. He is extremely intimidating. You look at him and his arm bleeding profusely while dangled at his side, and think of your own disabilities. You struggle with walking and have an exceptionally weak constitution. You understand the pain in his eyes that he tries to hide behind a biting tone, though you have no idea who these mysterious man in military fatigues is. You speak to him softly and get him some first aid. His cruel manner of speaking goes silent, but he is cold. He mutters something about being too far away from his rendezvous point.

• You offer him to take it easy in your apartment. He is incredulous. You suspect there is more to him than meets the eye. You tell him gently that you lost your parents to an operation by Umbrella...looking at the sudden widening of his eyes, you realize your hunch was right. You let him know that you tend to keep your head down and just work your 9-5, so he should be safe at your studio apartment. He reluctantly agrees and walks with you, insisting on carrying the groceries you had had in his uninjured arm. You get a feeling he is showing off his machismo, but for who? It's clearly hurting him. You fret, though you get the feeling that if you showed him pity you'd likely get some knuckles to the face.

• You go to give him the bed, but he refuses. Not in a chivalrous sort of way, but instead claims that he isn't soft and he'll do just fine with a sleeping bag. He keeps muttering how he shouldn't even be here. How he has no idea of what to do with civilians like you. Too normal and complacent, people like you are. He seems lost. You smile and start making something simple for you both to eat. You figure a big guy like him eats a lot.

• He's an army guy, obviously, so you want to try and find something familiar. All American. As he tends more to his arm, you fry up some hot dogs and warm the buns. You grab each of you a beer from the fridge. You bring it to him and he blinks. Doesn't say thank you, just starts to eat. The way he scarfs it down is more than enough for you. He asks for seconds, then thirds.

• "Who are you?" You ask.

• "Not important." He says. He takes his time with the beer. Looks like this guy is a locked chest, and you won't be getting anything from him soon. After he's fed and you give him some of your pain medication, you crawl into bed. You wonder if you're safe--he's an older man with bloodstains on his clothes and has hardly said more than a few sentences. He doesn't exactly scream safe... After all, he IS taking advantage of you, isn't he? Or at least he tried, before you led him right to your home like a lost puppy.

• Still. You remember what happened to your parents, and the flash of recognition in his eyes when you mentioned Umbrella. Umbrella is why you had been disabled and silenced...why your parents were dead. Maybe they had hurt him too. Maybe the world itself had. He looked like a guy carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, hiding it behind snarky remarks and a deep scowl.

• You didn't believe in fate, but when you fell asleep with him sitting straight up and staring at the wall, you felt like this was something meant to be. You wanted to help him, but you also knew...that was his choice. Not yours.

Getting to Know Each Other

• Krauser stays with you for a few days. All he says is that he cannot reach his contact. He is abrasive and mostly silent. His eyes are empty and he stares out into space often.

• Over the next three days, you slowly get him to open up. You ask him what his favorite movies are, and he flatly says he doesn't watch movies. Board games? No. Books? No. Video games? No. Hobbies? Nu-uh. You are shocked. Irritated by you, he finally tells you he hasn't bothered with anything like that since he was a child--he was too busy with his military career.

• You invite him to watch a movie with you. It's some military flick, not something you're particularly interested in. He is reluctant, but sits on the couch. He clearly doesn't know what to do when out of action.

• You watch the movie together and have to take frequent pauses for him to make some sort of commentary or get up and pace restlessly. A two hour long movie turns into four hours. You don't mind, because he's finally talking, and he's finally passionate about something. He has a sneer that most would find nasty, but you think is cute. You're receptive to his infodumps and understanding of his needing to pause, and he notices this.

• You watch more movies with him--he loves Highlander and Braveheart, movies like that. You show him sci-fi and fantasty, move on to some comedies. The Princess Bride actually makes him laugh. The two of you start talking more. He isn't sweet, but he's a great verbal sparring partner, especially when he's passionate about something.

• He shows you one of his knives and the tricks he can do with it. He seems to glow from the way you're impressed, but just acts like he deserves it. He tells you about his favorite knife, one he...gave away to a friend. You don't ask questions.

• One day, he is just gone. It was only five days, but it felt like forever, and you wanted to get to know him more. It felt like this mysterious stranger had left an imprint on your life forever.

• Three months pass. Nothing. You grieve that you never learned his name.

• You come home from work one day, struggling with your cane. Your back and leg are killing you. You almost scream when your front door swings open as you approach, and your Mysterious Stranger is standing there. He grins at you, seemingly pleased to have given you a fright, then has the decency to look sheepish. He says he remembered the spare key. He tells you that he needed a place to stay again. You're incredulous, but let it slip. Not without bitching at him for eating your food and leaving without a word. He bites right back, your home feels more alive again.

• This cycle continues. He finally tells you his name. Jack Theodore Krauser. You love it. You spend a lot of time inside, showing him different kinds of media, but slowly get him to venture outside. He almost seems agoraphobic when it comes to anything other than a battlefield or room with four walls, and it's a long process. He's not used to eating things much more than MREs and chicken breasts and veggies. You get him to try new things, to venture out to the park, to find some new clothes at the mall. Specifically at the big and tall store.

• You two have fun together. You become good friends, and still you don't know a lot about each other. It doesn't matter.

• He gets the mail one day. He's a nosy bastard and opens it...it's your testosterone subscription. You see him holding it and nearly have a panic attack! You have no idea how this army guy is going to react to the fact that you've been hiding something so big and--

• Krauser stares at the prescription for a moment, lips pursed. He shrugs and tugs up his shirt. Barely there, extremely faded, are keyhole top surgery scars. You would have to know what you're looking for to see them, especially with all the muscle he's built.

• You both kind of stand there in shock, before he tells you about his experiences as a gay trans man in the American military. How much he had to hide, the papers he had to forge... It was a hard life. He finally tells you about Operation Javier. His face is stone cold, but his hands tremble. The military discovered he was transgender then. Between that, the failure and his disability, it got him discharged.

• You put a hand to his. He's so much bigger than you, different than you, and yet...there is a thread that ties you together. Many threads. He looks at you, his glassy blue eyes hiding any trace of emotion.

• And then he leans down and kisses you. He is a sloppy, wet kisser, and you can tell he doesn't have much experience, though his passion is like a brightly lit flame.

• You make out with him and curl up in bed together, the first time he has ever deigned to touch your sheets. He tells you about Las Plagas. He tells you what he is. What he has done.

• You smile at him. You let him know that you would love him no matter what.

• He says nothing.

• He is gone in the morning.

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