thxgrxmrexpxr

INDIE. SEL. Depiction of H.U.N.K from Resident Evil

[thxgrxmrexpxr]

ɪɴᴅɪᴇ. ꜱᴇʟ. ᴅᴇᴘɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ʜᴜɴᴋ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʀᴇꜱɪᴅᴇɴᴛ ᴇᴠɪʟ - ᴘᴇɴɴᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴘɪɢᴇᴏɴ

| ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ | ʀᴜʟᴇꜱ | ᴄᴀʀʀᴅ| ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛ | ʜ.ᴜ.ɴ.ᴋ'ꜱ ʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜ ʜᴄ | ɴꜱꜰᴡ ꜱɪᴅᴇʙʟᴏɢ

A Study In: Four is Death | Survivors Guilt | Loss of oneself | Violence begets more violence | Unresolved grief | Existing is not living | Villainous Valour | A mask without a face | Veneration of the dead | The Grim Reapers Sidekick | Negating Your Own Sacrifice | Unresolved Trauma

AU's/Verses below cut

This Insatiable Hunger [Infected au]

Bite The Hand That Fed You [Fallout au]

A Legacy of blood [Knight au]

[kafkicoddities]

𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 & 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝, extended.

Send the following to:

🛁 - Take a bath with my muse 🚿 - Take a shower with my muse 🩸 - Wash blood off my muse / have my muse wash blood off yours (specify) 🫧 - Ask my muse to scrub your muse’s back 🧽 - Ask my muse to wash a body part (specify) 🧼 - Get soap in your muse’s eyes 😭 - Get caught crying in the shower / Catch my muse crying in the shower (specify) 💦 - Dump water on my muse’s head 🏞️ - Bathe in nature with my muse 🔫 - Spray my muse with a water gun 💧 - Hose my muse down outside

[thxgrxmrexpxr]

patch .   help  my  muse  patch  up  a  wound .

"I'm not a medic."

The statement is honest at the very least. Though he offers very little in the way of details or a proper explanation beyond that. The longer he works on the wound, the more evident the point becomes: he is virtually useless at healing. Bare and far below the admirable standards that have had his peers within Umbrella's ranks decorated or praised.

The Duke is either tolerable enough to accept any help, or at least he simply does not mind the risks. H.U.N.K cannot truly tell which it is, though he narrows his eyes and focuses on the long cut that has ripped through his sleeve. A claw mark in his best guess. That or a piece of glass or shrapnel he'd fallen against.

"There are worse things in life than a scar."

[thxgrxmrexpxr]

❛   night terrors .   hold  my  muse  after  they  wake  up  from  a  nightmare .

Has he ever stayed the night before? Not at her place. At least, not in a way that actually resulted in him falling asleep before. Elena had invited him over plenty of times. Enough that he knows the layout of her home just as readily as his own apartment, and can now travel through it in the dead of night without ever hitting a wall or knocking into anything.

Still, he's not known for deep rest. It's so rare that when he wakes that night, his chest tightens with an initial jolt of shock before the memory of exactly where he is comes flooding back.

Something draws his attention. Repetitive, breathy noises in the next room over. Strained gasps that he recognizes precisely for what they are.

Without a word, H.U.N.K slides out of the bed and drifts across the room. He follows the sound as if it is a beacon, locating her alone in the living room, clearly trying to be as quiet as possible.

There are many things he knows that trouble her thoughts. Many more he has not asked nor had the privilege of being openly told. He does not feel the need to press her right now. To force answers and weed the garden of her mind in its darkest hours. His calloused fingers reach and find some way to wrap around her shoulder without pressing too hard. He traces down her back, drawing lazy circles as he sits quietly on the couch right beside her.

"You do not have to leave the room, you know." He eventually says. "What was troubling you enough to make you leave?"

[thxgrxmrexpxr]

❛  stab .   stab  Leon with a  hidden knife.

"You never learn."

The sound is so subtle: a mere click that could be mistaken for any number of background noises had it not been followed by the wet sensation of the blade digging, puncturing through the other man's sleeve.

It is difficult, at first, to guess whether the damage is serious or not. H.U.N.K no longer truly knows what constitutes either anymore. All he knows is that he sees blood and instinctively digs the concealed blade that has emerged from right below his wrist, stabbing it into Leon's upper arm.

Had he not warned him, though? He'd said to stay away. He rarely gives one at all, and yet already knows this will not be enough to soothe the viciousness of his own actions. When he draws the blade back, he notices that the tip is red now with the DSO agent's blood.

"Or maybe you just prefer pain..."

[ohisms]

𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃  &  𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄    (a  series  of  nonverbal  prompts .    ‘ my ’ muse  belongs  to  the  one who  posted  the  meme  -  send   “ + REVERSE ”   to  reverse  the  prompts .)

→     𝐈 .    GENERAL

❛   hush .   raise  a  finger  in  a  gesture  to  silence  my  muse . ❛   sit .  gesture  for  my  muse  to  sit  down . ❛   door .   hold  a  door  open  for  my  muse . ❛   tap .   tap  my  muse  on  the  shoulder  to  garner  their  attention . ❛   hunger .   give  my  muse  something  to  eat  /  drink . ❛   cook .   present  my  muse  with  home - cooked  food . ❛   brush .   work  a  brush  /  comb  through  my  muse’s  hair . ❛   read .   silently  read  a  book  alongside  my  muse . ❛   hand .   hold  out  a  hand  for  my  muse  to  take . ❛   dressed .   help  my  muse  put  on  an  article  of  clothing . ❛   note .   give  my  muse  a  note  saying :   [ content ] . ❛   amplify .   turn  up  the  music  in  the  car .

→     𝐈𝐈 .    ANGST

❛   patch .   help  my  muse  patch  up  a  wound . ❛   night terrors .   hold  my  muse  after  they  wake  up  from  a  nightmare . ❛   company .   silently  sit  with  my  muse  to  comfort  them. ❛   hospital .   my  muse  is  told  that  yours  is  in  the  hospital . ❛   revelation .   show  my  muse  evidence  of  a  lie  they  told . ❛   indulge .   find  my  muse  drinking  to  cope . ❛   downfall .   find  my  muse  collapsed  on  the  ground . ❛   console .   comfort  my  muse  as  they  cry . ❛   nurse .   give  my  muse  company  in  the  hospital .

→     𝐈𝐈𝐈 .    AFFECTIONATE

❛   wink .   wink  at  my  muse . ❛   wrap .   wrap  an  arm  around  my  muse’s  [ shoulders  /  waist ] . ❛   caress .   gently  caress  my  muse’s  face . ❛   tousle .   mess  playfully  with  my  muse’s  hair . ❛   chest .   place  your  head  on  my  muse’s  chest .   ❛   comb .   comb  fingers  through  my  muse’s  hair . ❛   grasp .   run  to  my  muse  &  jump  into  their  arms . ❛   lean .   lean  on  my  muse’s  shoulder . ❛   tender .   kiss  my  muse  on  the  [ forehead  /  cheek  /  nose ] . ❛   abrupt .   kiss  my  muse  out  of  the  blue . ❛   chaste .   chastely  kiss  my  muse . ❛   good morning .   kiss  my  muse  the  morning  after . ❛   volumes .   gaze  at  my  muse  in  a  way  that  silently  says  ‘i love you’ .

→    𝐈𝐕 .    VIOLENT

❛   strike .   [ slap / punch ]  my muse in the face . ❛   gun .   wield  a  gun  at  my  muse . ❛   twist .   twist  my  muse’s  arm  behind  their  back . ❛   throttle .   aggressively  wrap  your  hands  around  my  muse’s  throat . ❛   parch .   burn  my  muse  with  a  hot  object . ❛   take down .   forcefully  bring  my  muse  to  the  ground . ❛   gouge .   wield  a  sharp  object  at  my  muse . ❛  shunt .   shove  my  muse  backwards . ❛  stickup .   yell  at  my  muse  to  put  their  hands  in  the  air. ❛  shoot .   [ fatally  /  non-fatally ]   shoot  my  muse . ❛  stab .   stab  my  muse with a  [ knife / other object ].

[umbrella-scientist]

Caresa let out a small whimper and stood up, tears streaming down her face as she held her hands up. This was it, she was sure of it. Staring into those soulless, opaque lenses reminded her of a doll's eyes. Her eyes ran down his form to the automatic he carried. Was it an automatic? She had always been distracted when Brad talked about different kinds of guns.

Caresa didn't know what to do. But she had to say something to her executioner.

"I am just a research assistant. I'll cooperate if need be." she spoke hoarsely, the lump in her throat seemingly becoming larger by the minute.

She kept her hands clearly where he could see them, not knowing what else to do. It was all in God's hands now.

@thxgrxmrexpxr

[thxgrxmrexpxr]

He doesn't offer much in the way of a reaction. Not surprise, not anger: just a quiet ambivalence. "Research assistant of Birkin's, I presume?" The report that had been dropped unceremoniously on his desk only a day before had indicated there might be a few present during their arrival. "A research assistant, one of how many?"

He knows there are at least a handful. Unfortunate lackeys who would either get stuck in the crossfire or abandon the lab outright if they hadn't already. He makes a gesture with one hand, motioning for her to come forward, away from the spot she'd been hiding.

He can hear the sounds of scuffling in some of the nearby rooms. Glass breaking, office supplies being toppled over or possibly flung like a makeshift weapon. Ever so slightly, he tilts his head as if listening intently to the chaos. So far, not a single bullet has been used by his team. A generous act, though he suspects that the researchers do not share this sentiment.

"My orders are to collect Doctor William Birkin and the G Virus sample." Which, of course, meant that everyone else was a secondary priority. Not that he is prepared to speak it outloud and risk some sort of panicked response from her. "I'm not interested in shedding wasted blood all across this lab in the meantime. Cooperate, and you'll be fine."

[thxgrxmrexpxr]

Literally shaking the RE fans on TikTok and twitter while begging them to actually look into what the symptoms and signs of PTSD are instead of presuming that H.U.N.K doesn’t have it because he doesn’t have the same symptoms as some of the other cast.

[tearfulangel]

sorry for being weird, the loneliness and the need for a deeper, more meaningful human connection is eating me alive

[fablesuntold]

Continued from HERE. @thxgrxmrexpxr

“Bummer. And here I thought that mask of yours had a built in polygraph. Guess I was wrong.” A click of his tongue followed the sarcastic statement, Leon’s voice unwavering with its usual monotone. He didn’t know who the hell this guy was, nor did he have any real desire to make friends and braid each other’s hair. Not while he still had a mission to complete.

Finally lowering his weapon now that his new companion had shouldered his own, Leon’s eyes remained warily fixed on the male. “Leon Kennedy. I’m with the DSO, but I’m guessing you already knew that. Seemed like you’d been expecting me.” If the way he’d literally ambushed him was anything to go by, anyway. “And you are? I didn’t catch your name before you started acting like a ray of sunshine.”

[thxgrxmrexpxr]

"No, sorry. I haven't had the chance to upgrade it just yet. How unfortunate for you." Content, or at least as close as someone of his demeanour can hope to reach, he folds his arms across his chest. A nod does not follow the other man's introduction, though his breath seems to momentarily fall silent, as if he ceases all function just for a moment while he focuses on Leon.

"I never fully expect anyone on your side, but they have a tendency to come skittering in at random. It's a bit like minding cockroaches." He tilts his head ever so slightly. The question of a name is a rather uncommon thing these days. Most don't even bother. The simple fact that he has ties to The Connections has made him an obstacle in most ways.

"My name is not important." He replies. Deliberately ignoring the cheeky quip that was no doubt aimed to anger him in some way. "I suspect i need no explanation about my ties at this point. You have wriggled through this mess like a worm through dirt after all." There is a slight pause. A contemplation before he shakes his head. "I was once called "The Grim Reaper," but that was many years ago. If you simply must call me something, most call me that." A lie, of course, but he gets the feeling that this one won't allow his real callsign to pass by without a comment.

[alpharedfield]

They were in a kind of limbo where there was still tension between them that was not entirely sexual, but didn't allow them to be entirely relaxed in each other's company. They were sussing each other out. Leon had no ulterior motives; he wasn't a particularly complicated man and had simple wants and needs. He'd always been a man of action, not words, and he had the feeling Grim wasn't too different in that regard.

After he'd fastened his belt, Leon occupied the bench once more to put on his leather boots and lace them up. "I... won't deny that. But I can tone it down," he replied softly, throwing a brief glance over at the other man. Sleeping with someone had the effect of making him a little more open with the person, less serious. He was capable of doing casual though and did not expect anything of Grim.

Neither of them had thrown any chips in—he wasn't really a betting man. So he nodded when Grim agreed to join him at the safehouse and it served as an expression of departure as well before he gathered his EDC items then left.

He would first stop at a liquor store and grab whiskey and beer as well as wine for cooking. Food from the market nearby was gathered into two bags to throw together a meal of chicken cacciatore. Hearty, rich and a comfort meal since childhood... Essentially an Italian chicken stew. If his guest didn't like it, there was other meats and vegetables for him to make something to his liking.

Leon figured a hot meal could lift anyone's mood. At least a little. He was having his first glass of whiskey on the rocks as he began food preparation. Music played from the speaker on his phone that he nodded along to, co-mingling with the sound of chopping and the sizzle of heating oil.

[thxgrxmrexpxr]

He's surprised by how subtly the other man agrees with him. The softness of Leon's tone is not at all what he'd prepared to hear, and it renders him silent for the remainder of his time drying off and redressing.

Logistically, he ought to stay as far away as humanly possible. There is, after all, a practical purpose for his keeping most of the world at arm's length. One that has ensured his survival thus far and is part of what he contributes towards just how well he seems to manage in missions.

Once away from Leon, he finds himself aimless. Wandering outside while the cool air freezes his clothes and makes the surface of his skin turn numb over time. There is an unnatural sensation to it all. "I am not meant to be a person." Still, his feet carry him towards his destination. Step by wretched step until he finally accepts that whether the sensible recess of his mind likes it or not, he's going. He credits simple curiosity for winning, and ultimately for causing him to defy his own impulses.

When he reaches the front door, he does not knock. But pushes it open and simply allows himself inside. The door behind him sounds a warning click as it shuts, and he absentmindedly extends a hand on impulse to lock it before retreating towards the kitchen area.

The smells are pleasant but wholly unfamiliar. They're not like a cafeteria or a canteen. The closest he can compare it to in memory is the layered scents that often stream from the restaurants he walks past on his way back to his apartment some nights.

"Wasn't aware you were going to eat first." He moves into view without any sudden movement. Deliberately slow as he moves himself to watch what Leon is doing without being in the way. "I can leave for awhile, if you need more time."

[umbrellamedic]

"Der Fortschritt machte sie faul."

Her hands are steady in dressing the team leader of only to distract herself from what she wants to do: cut him back down and redo treatment. She doubts HUNK would be any more appreciative than the doctors she's so judgemental of. At least she doesn't have to fight with him over rendering assistance; the only good bit of this scene she's stumbled upon.

Truthfully, Bertha had been looking for someone else and got distracted by this. She grunts and steps back when the work is done. "If it heals like this the scars will be beautifully brutal, but it is." She hums and makes a gesture, not expecting to be understood. "They are used to their miracle spray encouraging healing. Or means they do not have to pay so much attention to the rest of their work. If you opt out of the spray during their work, they may not be so practiced with proper work anymore."

Her head tilts, looking the man over with something close to curiosity. "The risk is that they may decide to test new miracle treatments while doing sloppy work, but I do not think they would sacrifice a useful soldier. Do you have the name of who treated you?"

[thxgrxmrexpxr]

"Everything that happens to me leaves a scar. I'm well past the point of trying to spare my skin or youth."

Meat, that is what he is. Or so often it is how he compares himself. A bloodied mass of flesh and gristle coating bones. He's doubtful at this point that Umbrella would care if a mission cost him a limb. So long as they crammed the pieces of him back together in time for their next task, all would be well.

The sudden and rather abrupt shift in her tone elicits something very close to a chuckle from him. So, she is angry about careless work. A true dedicated professional, although she was motivated by reasons that would have led some to call her a ghoul and a butcher.

"I would rather not have you jabbing my personal physicians with a needle in some attempt to motivate them into maintaining their craft." He shrugs. Leaning back ever so slightly, as if vaguely trying to recall all of their names now. "If I believed that my reputation alone would be enough to motivate Umbrella into keeping me alive I'd be a fool, and dead in no time." A cold sensation creeps along the edges of his words for just a moment. "Do not ever trick yourself into believing you will be important enough to be preserved: the answer will only disappoint you. Soilders are not priceless paintings. It doesn't matter if they take a bit of the brunt."

[calmbf]

I wanna dm you 👀

don't im hotter as a concept

[thxgrxmrexpxr]

This is probably a silly question, but what would HUNK's reaction be to someone who doesn't know or mistook his epithet as him being really handsome under the mask and not human unit never killed?

By default he is pretty much accepting of the fact that his callsign is going to result in a lot of cheeky comments so I can’t honestly see him getting all that annoyed or upset of someone straight up thought that it stood for “handsome under mask”. He’d probably just let them get whatever giggles they had out of the way and just not acknowledge it.

If someone were to push and/or sincerely asked him if it was true, they aren’t going to get more than a sigh.

I will say that H.U.N.K in some instances where he is in peak anger or having an extremely bad time emotionally does tend to lean terribly into the idea that he is the opposite. In general he honestly does not think he is all that attractive. But he has described himself as being “monstrous” in order to cause negative assumptions about his appearance and deter others.

It kind of circles back to a point I made months ago about how H.U.N.K can, in fact, be an effortless liar and can manipulate others to some degree.

He absolutely will downplay himself in order to remove focus from himself knowing he has the advantage of not being someone that will be minded: if the assumption is that under the mask there is “nothing special” then you’re not really going to pay him any mind when he unmasks and blends into your group. You’re likely to assume that’s somebody else.

[biocrafthero]

ANATOMY (2016)

[thxgrxmrexpxr]

H.U.N.K has essentially had a crush on every single doctor he’s ever had as an adult. And I do mean all of them.

He has a tendency to equate the necessary closeness medical professionals are required to have with him to provide care with intimacy. His mind tends to equate being given medical attention with gentleness (hence why if you’ll notice he tends to be shockingly okay with being wounded) and that does tend to cross wires in his mind and cause him to develop faster or stronger affection towards them than what is appropriate or necessarily logical.

Usually (fortunately for them thank fucking god) he knows better than to act upon those feelings but it doesn’t stop him from experiencing them.

There is some unsuspecting, pasty looking middle aged man with a Honda civic and a moustache who worked in Umbrellas med bay and has no idea how far he flew towards the sun just by treating H.U.N.K with basic courtesy.

[thxgrxmrexpxr]

🔥 “i’d like to think i know the answer, but you have a creative way with words sometimes, and i enjoy reminders.”

Send “🔥?” and my muse will admit whether they find your muse attractive or not.

"Saying that I find you attractive feels insultingly simplified, but...yea.

You wear the face of a woman that would probably have ended up in a painting or described inside an epic if you had been born about 500 years ago."