“You…” the figure says, his voice rounding into a snarl. “Why did it have to be you?”
I’m no one, you want to say but don’t.
You understand it may be a stupid thing to do, like challenging a wild animal, but you stare back at him. Defiance, contempt, something obvious and raw in your refusal to indulge just how terrified you really are. There’s something in the way he returns the look that, even filtered through the mask, makes you feel as if you’re descending a staircase choked by total, overwhelming darkness.
“No answer?” Reaper’s voice changes as he speaks, becoming pointlessly calm and even more dangerous because of it. Mellow, contained. “You think I’m going to hurt you?”
You’re allowed time to consider this before he impossibly sinks into the floor—a demonstration, perhaps—solidifying behind you, returning from formless smoke. You sense his head tilt forward with fascination as a shiver rips through your tense body. He breathes in. Or, it sounds like he does. A long drawn-out, ragged inhale, filling his senses with your scent.
“I won’t. I’m just,” small pause, voice darkening, “curious…”
Emptied of air, you hold still as if any sudden movements would make him spring; wind his talons around you, prove he was lying. You whisper: “How can I trust you?”
It’s not too vague!! I decided to narrow it down myself to HCs for Blackwatch Genji. There are also theseposts
Sometimes, Genji doesn’t like you touching his cybernetic parts, because it’s a reminder of what he is now
He’ll jerk away from your hand in annoyance
Sometimes, he likes that you explore his body because you think he’s cool and it strokes his ego
His red eyes follow you closely
Other times, he clings to you like his life depends on it, because he needs comfort now
“Genji, I can hardly breathe!” you say, laughing
Genji growls with that tinny quality to his voice, refusing to let go. It’s cute
There are times when ignoring him makes him appear next to you, silently begging for attention
You weren’t actually ignoring him, he just hadn’t been in physical contact with you for a while and it’s a little distressing for him
Hold his hand for a bit and then he’s good again for the next while
This all happens in secret
It’s bad enough that people stare when he’s walking around alone
Genji doesn’t want anyone looking at him while he’s being open and vulnerable with you
It makes him feel helpless and exposed
Genji prefers to hold you with his human arm if he’s not holding you with both arms
He assumes you’d be uncomfortable with his other arm, and frankly, he didn’t ask if it’s true
Genji is the kind of stressed and tired that if you gave him loving and gentle touches just right and for long enough, that he’d fall asleep on, or next to, you
The first time Genji takes his mouth guard off around you, he wants you to make a bit of a fuss over how good-looking you find him
But not too much of a fuss
Kiss his cheeks a bunch, and he’ll cry tears of joy, because he’d forgotten what it’s like to be touched there
a/n: sure here you go. did some good ol cyborg genji, because that’s what i’m in the mood for writing rn. under the cut since the answers are kind of nsfw-ish.
I had been thinking about this for a while and I wanted to put a twist on whumptober where I purposefully reverse the prompt to make it fluffy instead of angsty. Since October is very, very busy for me, I had no confidence that I could do it. But then dickbutt brought this up and I decided to do this. So, if you see dickbutt posting angst, you can be sure that I’ll have fluff not far behind.
A screech and clatter rings out in the kitchen. Then followed by another. And another. And another. And another.
Then a loud groan and a loud ‘clack’ with a sharp screech following right after.
You hold your fork in your fist, carefully positioning it above your target, and then you strike.
Clack. Scree–
The cherry tomato rolls safely away from the prongs, right through a puddle of olive oil, showing off the slippery sheen and essentuating the cherry red of its skin.
You grash your teeth. You’re a grown adult picking a fight with a cherry tomato. It’s only by sheer pride of not wanting to be outdone by a tiny, inaminate hunk of fruit–or is tomato a vegetable–that prevents you from just picking up your plate and sliding everything into your mouth–Genji is sitting next to you, after all.
While he makes no comment about your one-sided fight, you know he’s watching, judging. You’ll show him.
Once more, you poise your fork, ready to stab the living crap out of this when it gets snatched off your plate.
“Here.”
Genji picks up the damnable tomato with his chopsticks, betraying the effort you’ve been putting in for the past few minutes, other hand held under the treat to keep it from escaping. You stare at the tomato. Teamwork really does make the dream work. If you think about it, you could imagine the tomato pleading for it’s life, begging for forgiveness.
If you grin a little evilly, Genji says nothing.
“Thanks!”
You immediately close your mouth around it and the chopsticks, biting the tomato with a little more viciousness, savoring the burst of juices and flavor.
Sweet, sweet victory.
Though, from the corner of your eyes, you could see Genji smiling softly, looking a little happier, as though also relishing in your victory.
For some reasons, the burst of sweetness upon your tongue is nothing compared to the sweet, warm feeling that gushes from your heart. You don’t post der on what that feeling is when Genji picks up another tomato, just as easily as the previous one, and offers it to you.
With summer fading, Hanamura sinks into autumn and though it is late in the evening, the streets are alive for Tsukimi. Genji walks with you, one sweatered arm around your shoulder. “You should see this place in the spring,” he says, almost wistful, as you marvel at the way the season has touched everything.
Music dissolves into the distant sounds of the crowd as you begin to wander, following his lead, pulled towards Shimada Castle’s gates, stopping when they’re within reach. He lets his gaze crawl over the carved dragons before taking a deep inhale as if to speak but there’s nothing needs to be said. You sense apprehension to say too little or too much, his attention turns inward, trance-like.
Finally: “I need a minute, if that’s okay.”
These moon-viewings used to be a family event.
The night is young and clear. Branches quake, leaves rustle like feathers. Wind carries the scent of fire, chestnuts, taro, persimmons, incense. You kissed Genji earlier, tasted the sweetness of dango on him. These things linger.
“Can you feel this?” Looking over your shoulder, you admire his profile; distinct curve of the bridge of his nose, skin washed in pale gold. He laughs a little to himself so you clarify, I mean, can you feel the light of the moon?
“Yes, I can.” He pauses, the explanation slips away as he searches for it. You are patient as he summons the words. “There is so much here… in the sky, in the air.” Reminders of life. Of Death. Reminders of things he knows intimately—things he wants to forget, but can’t.
It was hard coming home.
You move closer to his side, he is privately thankful for how you lean into him. There is a sad smile etched into the corners of his eyes that you can identify with the smallest of glances. He knows you see it.
Genji clasps one of your hands, guides it to his chest, over his heart. His voice is low and soft, despite the heavy pounding. “What about this? Can you feel how much it means to me that you’re here tonight?”
hhhhhh uhhh i’m Really Behind in life so. Let’s hope I can catch up.
Warnings: Oh there’s Quite a Lot of Blood Related Stuff. And I
guess some memory related fuckery/derealization if that’s a thing that might
trigger you.
Genji comes back to awareness in pieces, then in a sudden, jarring
lurch – his dragon frantic inside of him, the chaos of battle around
him, his blade heavy, caught.
In the span of minutes – in seconds –
Genji’s world becomes a nightmare.
You adopted the two cat hybrids as brothers. The staff at the shelter hesitated at that but agreed with you when you made the decision.
Genji took an instant liking to your home, excited to be adopted. The only issue he had was trying to climb everything to find all the good hiding spots and perches. He also required regular trips to the prosthetics professionals who specialized in cybernetics. He was a special needs boy.
His brother, Hanzo, preferred to lounge in your lap and watch Genji warily. He wasted no time asking to be groomed, or he groomed himself when you weren’t around. He was polite when he asked for grooming tools, but it was clear he was also going to require a fair amount of time and attention.
A week later, another issue cropped up. You saw why the shelter staff hesitated.
Hanzo was grooming himself, as usual, and putting his hair into a man bun. It had to be just so. Sleek. No stray hairs sticking out. Genji attempted to help by using his rough tongue, perfecting for slicking down hair, to help groom his brother. Hanzo pushed him away and hissed. Genji brushed it off and came to headbutt you as a request for laptime. He was heavy, with all his metal parts, but you let him settle there, nonetheless.
Genji kept trying to groom Hanzo. To cuddle him. To even just lay near his brother and purr. Hanzo got up and left to another room in the house each time.
You were wracking your brain, trying to figure out a solution for this, for these two hybrids you didn’t know very well. Then their behaviour changed.
They hid more often. You thought, well cats just hide, so perhaps they’ll come out. Then they didn’t sleep with you on the bed. Normally, they slept on either side of you. Occasionally elsewhere; it was really up to them. Their absence had begun to worry you when you a yowl woke you in the middle of the night.
You got up immediately to check on your kitties, to make sure it wasn’t them. Sadly, you found Genji curled up in a ray of moonlight, trembling. You knelt down next to him.
“Hey, Baby?” you asked gently, touching his side to get him to roll over and show you his belly. If his body was causing him pain, you wanted to know.
He curled tighter, whimpering. A low growl sounded from elsewhere in the room.
“Hanzo?” you asked, lifting your head to look around.
He didn’t answer, so you turned your attention back to Genji. After some coaxing, he uncurled to reveal what he’d been protecting.
He had, in his fist, his fully erect cock. His stroked it tentatively, his visor turned away from you, refusing to meet your eyes.
Ahh.
You closed your hand around his cool, cybernetic fingers, urging him to stroke harder. His grabbed your wrist.
“You don’t have to,” he said.
You took your hand away for now.
You found Hanzo elsewhere, also hunched over a large tent in his pants, his needy cock beneath. He seethed, stubbornly refusing to touch it.
You tried to talk him down.
“Hey. Hanzo. You’re in a rut.”
He nodded. Okay, you were getting somewhere.
“You need to take care of it, don’t you?”
He shook his head furiously, shut his eyes, and pressed his face into the carpet. You sat down on the floor some distance between them, trying to figure out again what you were supposed to do. They were refusing your help, and you hoped it wasn’t because they thought you were going to take them back to the shelter just for getting their ruts at the same time. You had a pair of prideful boys on your hands.
A loud sob shook Hanzo’s body. His tail flailed unhappily behind him.
“Okay, here’s what I’m going to do,” you announced to them. “I’m going back to bed. I’m going to be naked and willing. If you want help taking care of your problem, come join me.”
You only had to wait a few minutes before your boys showed up to climb into bed.
They started out rutting against each thigh, sorely needing that first orgasm to clear their minds and get some relief. They started round two by fussing over who got to enter you first.
“Behave,” you warned. “or you both can get out.”
You were stuffed with, and covered in, their cum before the night was over. You left them in the bed the next morning, the two of them snuggled up to sleep in.
So this was a commission request!! This was a challenge for sure, as it was for 200 words and angst/fluff! But I feel like I nailed it!! The requester wished to remain anonymous! If you see this, please, let me know what you think!! ^-^ AND THANK YOU!!
Word Count:: 232 Words (Close enough)
Age had treated him well. His hair greyed only slightly,
above his temples, and had left faint lines around his eyes. You would
recognize him anywhere. Your heart stuttered at the sight of him, struggled to
make you run but your feet were planted to the ground. What could you say?
There had been enough words spoken in the silence of an empty altar.
Hanzo saw you and felt eighteen again, and he remembered how
it felt to know that you would wear the Shimada name beside him. But the day
came and he just…
Fled.
How cowardly.
So you both stared, stock still, across the busy market
square, unsure of what the other would do.
You turned to leave.
He pushed through the people, blocked the path of a cart as
he grabbed at the fabric of your retreating back.
Your heart skipped. In his other hand was a flower – petal missing
– made of glass on a hair comb. You stared at him. From around his neck he
pulled a delicate chair with a lone petal hanging from the end. A complete set.
“I am sorry,” he whispered. “I was afraid.”
You took the comb with warming fingers as your heart beat
faster. “As was I.”
He smiled. The petal gleamed against his chest, tinkling
against the metal clasp of his bag as his heart raced in his chest.
demialwrites 