foreverdreaming-oyasumi
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Pink Carnation
[Spoilers for Boothill's backstory]
sypnosis: Boothill spending a nice sunny evening with his family
pairings: Boothill x fem!reader
tags: established relationship, pre-cyborg Boothill, Boothill snd his adoptive daughter, reader is referred to 'mama' by them, fluff and angst
A/N: why is everyone's lives destroyed by the IPC
"Nono, place this finger here, and 'yer other one here..." Boothill placed his daughter's fingers on the strings, and laughed with her as she failed to hold them in place again. He sat on a patch of grass with her on his lap underneath an old tree that has been growing on the farm for many, many years.
As his daughter tried again to play the strings, he remembered why this place- underneath this tree- was so meaningful to him. He met you here, a few years ago. A warm breeze went through his bangs, and an actual nice sound emerged from the guitar, a sound his daughter made. Much better than the last few times, he thought.
Her eyes were filled with light as she turned her little head to him, a wide grin as she raised her arms in joy, "dada! dada!" he laughed loud, raising his daughter high by the arms, the sunlight reflecting her wide smile. "That's some talent 'yer have! Don't become better than me though, 'yer hear?" she squealed in his arms as he engulfed her in his arms. His favourite sound- his daughter's joy.
"Seems like you two are having fun." your voice made Boothill perk his head up, smiling leisurely once he saw you. A low-bun, a white tunic and an orange apron wrapped around your waist- no matter what you wore or how you made your hair, no matter how healthy or how sick you were, you were always perfect in his eyes.
"Would 'yer look at that, pumpkin, mama's here." Boothill poked his daughter's cheek and she squealed again before clumsily trying to get out of his grasp. "mama!" she gasped, and Boothill showed some mercy, letting her go to walk to you.
Her little shuffle was adorable, you thought to yourself, which was to be known, since she just learned to walk. You crouched down to her height level, "hey- you're doing good! Come to mama!" and you spread your arms wide and she was even more determined to reach you. "Mama!" she repeated, but once she was almost in your arms, Boothill suddenly picked her up, placing her on his shoulders.
"ah, 'yer were so close! T'is a shame." she squeaked before laughing again, warming your heart. You giggled softly as you rose up back to your feet, with your lover now in front of you. "You're not very nice, she almost had it" you joked and he simply laughed again, "She learns better this way- I was taught like this." he said, before crouching down a tiny bit to kiss you on the cheek.
"Fine, fine, but don't do it too often. She might feel discouraged." you berated him and he nodded, but it seems like his attention was on the little girl. You shook your head to yourself but were still smiling as you swiftly took Boothill's hat from his head and placed it on your own, giving him a quick wink, to which he smiled. You just loved the two of them so much.
"So, has mama made us some dinner? Would be quite disappointed if she didn't, 'yer agree, pumpkin?" Boothill nudged his daughter softly with his head and she nodded her head profusely. "Dinner!" you could hear her stomach rumbling and nodded yourself. "It's finished! That's the reason I came to get you. Pork chops with Scalloped Potatoes- sound tasty enough?"
"Well, if I ain't dreaming. Another wonderful dish of 'yer mama, you agree?" your daughter clapped her hands in joy and was urging Boothill to go faster, her hunger really couldn't be stopped.
"Oh- wait, the guitar! Walk up ahead, I'll get it." you patted him on the shoulder before running up to the tree again and picking up the guitar your daughter had played with. Once you turned your back again, you saw the two of them standing still in the middle of the farm.
"What 'yer saying, pumpkin? Think mama can catch us with your guitar?" your daughter raised her arms, repeating "yes, yes!" and you sighed to yourself knowing another game of tag would happen. It was almost a daily occurrence, one of you was holding your daughter while the other one chased. Once the game ended, it was truthfully time for dinner.
You laughed as you ran up to them with the guitar in hand while holding the cowboy hat and keeping it in place on your head. Before you touched Boothill, he swiftly moved a hair away, and ran away from you with your daughter bouncing on his shoulders. "You know I always lose!" you shouted, running up behind them. "C'mon sweetie- help mama catch papa!"
"hey! 'yer ain't cheating!" Boothill shouted back as he continued to run from you. He was playing- you knew that. If he wanted to, Boothill could run as fast as he could and you'd be out of breath shortly after. "It's not cheating, dear! It's called cooperation!"
The three of you laughed as you ran to the ranch, the sun setting and the delicious smell of dinner lingering in the air.
-
Terror, anxiety, loneliness, darkness, rage- these feelings didn't dissipate with his physical body, but remained within the mechanical shell in a different manner- and they were even heavier than before.
He heard the call of the dead, smelled the scent of something being charred, the whirl of machinery buzzed around his ears, and the new blue blood flew towards his thirsty heart... Some cruel memories resurfaced as the unforgettable hatred turned into a weak light in the darkness.
he could never forget the sea of flames... the sight of the land scorched in black... and the loss of his loved ones.
The ones he called his family.
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thank you doraemon <333
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googling ‘jobs for autistic people’ and realising that everyone still thinks autistic people are either sheldon cooper or really tall toddlers
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something something nickel for every voiceline he found a similarity with another guy....
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nuvy. nuvy have you heard of the boothill leaks.
YES i did *salutes*
boothill story leaks under cut;
girl dad girl dad
soooo what about boothill falling in love with a single parent with a daughter hmm hmm
like god if he doesn’t just accidently run into the kid and she squeals over him because “hey!! cool robot man!!” and you chase her down and apologise.
he freezes, because your daughter looks so much like his did.
same hair colour, same eye colour, same energy that he could barely keep up with, just learning to walk on two feet properly and string together words to form simple sentences.
it absolutely destroys him. in the worst and best way possible. especially since your daughter practically develops an admiration for him on the spot, begs to be carried, and you’re confused because “sweetie, you shouldn’t be talking to strangers.”
like like.,,,, example……..
Something small and warm wraps around his hand and Boothill glances up quickly from his lap.
There was a little girl searching for his fingers, barely three years old by the looks of it. Pretty tresses of black hair flowing in the wind near the shoreline, sniffling and barely standing on short wobbly legs.
“I need help,” she hiccups, and Boothill melts on the spot. So small and helpless, like a baby bird away from its mother’s nest. “I can’t find my–”
And of course, he stands up, dusts off his pants, and offers her his hand. He guides her away from the beach back towards the market where crowds of people swarm the stalls.
It’s nighttime, cold, and definitely no place for a little girl to be by herself.
“What’s your parents look like, princess?”
He busies himself searching for any targets that would make sense given the girl’s prattling of your appearance down to the colour of your shoes—“White. Like mine.” Hers light up purple with each step she takes—too many faces, too many people.
He stands to give up when he hears somebody frantically running around like a lunatic to every single store, asking if they’ve seen a little girl with light up sneakers wandering about.
“Calm down. I’m sure she’s around here somewhere,” he heard one of the assistants try.
Another shopkeeper offers a pitiful frown and shakes their head.
Boothill nudges the girl, squeezing her small hand in his, careful of his strength around fragile bones. “Is that them?”
She quickly wipes the tears from her face. She then nods and takes off into a sprint to lunge at you, still sobbing when she wraps her arms around your leg.
You sigh in relief and scoop her up into your arms.
Boothill then has an entire conundrum in the middle of the market square. For one, your daughter is waving him over with a smile on her face. Two, you looked like you were about two seconds away from passing out in shock. Your clothes are askew, hair a mess, face flushed and yet simultaneously drained of blood.
He steps closer anyway, though hesitantly. He can’t say no to the little thing whose grin has now grown double the size of her face.
“This is the man that helped me,” she explained softly to you, pointing at him with a small finger.
You scanned him over.
For a moment, he thought you were going to turn around and book it in the other direction. A random ‘robot man’ in the centre of the town square was probably the least most inviting thing he could’ve been. Not to mention he had been sitting at the docks for so long staring out into the water he knew his hair had been tossed wildly from the wind.
Not that you appeared anymore put together.
Instead, you grab his face with a free hand and kiss him on the cheek.
“Thank you,” you whispered hoarsely.
He almost damn near blue screens. The words ‘anything for you’ fight to come forth out of his throat.
Instead, he lets out a garbled noise before he clears his throat. “Of course. Couldn’t let the little princess run too far.” He teased your daughter with a tap to her nose.
She grabs his finger and presses the pads of her own across the metal rivets and joints like she’s studying them curiously.
Your daughter stared up at you with giant puppy eyes, still holding his hand. “Can we keep him?”
It was your turn to make a weird noise, spluttering with your face heating up. “You can’t keep people.”
All the while, Boothill was staring at you as you chastised her with hot cheeks.
No spouse by the looks of it—nor had the little princess mentioned somebody else. He knew kids liked to ramble on about their parents.
Well, his daughter did. Something cold and metallic turned in his stomach. She used to think her dad was a hero.
He wondered if she still would.
No ring on your finger. Adoration was such a gentle expression on your face, and the way you held her so firmly, yet so delicately, said it all.
Oh, if he wasn’t completely head over heels from the very beginning.
the angst potential. The angst potential. Theeee angst potential. i’m gritting my teeth.
i’m going insan e
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Memories Resurfacing - BootHill x GN! Reader
★ Notes: In light of BootHills lore coming out. I wrote this quick thing for him hehe, I love him but I also love angst...so-
☆ Characters Included: BootHill
★ Genre/Trope: Angst + Hurt/No Comfort
☆ Warnings: Major Character Death (The Readers)
★ Extra: Not proofread, legit just wrote this as soon as I got my laptop (might fix some mistakes later) // Written with an established relationship in mind but if u can see it as platonic feel free too! // Written Pre-BootHill release so he may be OOC
Thinking about...
How fast BootHill is running, he doesn't know where he's going. He doesn't exactly know where he is, he isn't as familiar to this place as others he has ventured to. But mark his words, he will find someone, someone that can help you.
Thinking about...
How worried he is, how desperate he is. You're in his arms, clinging onto him for dear life, because it is YOUR life on the line. You're slowly bleeding out and he doesn't know what to do. He just knows he has to take you somewhere, anymore. To anyone who can save you.
Thinking about...
How his movements become even faster, how his words of reassurance that
"You'll be fine, sweetheart"
Turn into
"H-hey now, c-come on. D-don't...please, I'll find someone soon I-I swear"
As your arms slowly lose power in them and become nearly limp as you lose the energy to continue holding on.
Thinking about...
How he's absolutely yelling at you to keep your eyes open. How he just needs to run just a bit longer, that someone will come. But the cloth that he used to wrap around your wound is making no effort to continue holding the blood in
Thinking about...
How defeated he is when he realaises he won't make it in time. How he begins crying as he holds you in his arms, sobbing. Your hand caressing his face no longer being able to soothe him as he knows it's the last time he'll ever feel your hands on his face.
Thinking about...
Dying in BootHills arms, he holds onto you as if you're a porcelain doll and one wrong move means he'll lose your forever.
.
.
.
But he can't, he still holds onto the small glimmer of hope that someone will find you two and help him, that they'll be able to save you and you two can continue being happy.
Thinking about...
How BootHills finale words to you before your eternal slumber is
"Please don't leave me too"
WEEEEE ANGST FOR MY FAV CYBORG
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*Takes Boothill and Aventurine by the hands, and then makes them hold hands* Listen to me carefully, you both have to kill Oswoldo Schneider
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currently suffering pre-period cramps so have this (pre?)period hc with boothill 😔✌️ lets suffer together
Thinking about Boothill who would take you to bed bridal style and offer you massage (he's horrible at it and massages your shoulders instead of lower back), and then tell you funny stories he's come across or "funny" jokes (they aren't funny, but so bad they make you laugh 😭), so you pay less attention to your pain.
Thinking about Boothill who starts beef with someone that took your favorite menstrual products inside the store and THEN with the store employee AND THEN with the store manager. Probably chokes somebody at some point, takes the products and goes to checkout like nothing happened.
Thinking about Boothill who would whine and moan along with you when you feel fussy. He holds you tightly against his chest, wearing a thick, colorful robe - and when you whine into him and hide your face in his neck, he throws his head back and playfully whines louder, only to gently kiss you on the forehead and rub your back reassuringly when you groan at his "response."
Listen. Boothill can relieve your pain in many ways, also in that way, if you're up for it. He's not scared of blood, and.. I mean, he can detach himself to clean it thoroughly.
But if it's too painful - Roger that! Boothill can run you a bath, robe you, prepare your products, and also probably run with a speed of sound for your favorite snacks when you're relaxing in the water.
"Check this out, cutie!" Boothill shouts, kicking the door open, "got ya favorite cookies and chocolate!" He rustles the bags happily, smirking at you, "actually, I managed to get the last ones just for ya, beautiful." (He took the last pack of cookies from a child in the sweets aisle and left them crying 😭 it's starting to become a habit..)
Talking too much? No worries, Boothill will stop bothering you for a while and let you rest against him, cuddling you and giving you kisses. He'll play with your hair when you two watch a movie together. He'll comfort you if you feel moody, and can warm your tummy up with his hands - he didn't just get that fancy warming module for nothing!
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hellooo, may I request some platonic boothill hcs with a teen!reader?
cybernetic guardian
synopsis - boothill with a teen reader
includes - boothill - platonic
warnings - gn!teen!reader, fluff, slight angst, slight crack, wc - 409
taglist - @teddirika, @frankiesteinn, @little-miss-chaoss
↪the biggest question that occured when you were first seen with boothill was 'who in this galaxy thought allowing the cyborg cowboy to look after a teenager was a good idea?'
↪it didn't really matter what the answer was because while it may seem like a disaster waiting to happen, you two knew different. while it was true that boothill probably wasn't the greatest influence on you, that didn't really matter in your eyes especially because you two got on like a house on fire.
↪boothill may be a bit reckless for himself but that didn't mean he'd encourage you to do the same to the extent as him. he'd protect you at all costs as his body could be rebuilt over and over again, yours was still human and he wanted you to keep that.
↪although that didn't mean he couldn't still hand you a spare gun and teach you how to defend yourself - or really any weapon of your choosing, he didn't mind. if you were going to get by on your own you would need atleast some basics in defence and boothill would ensure you can survive.
↪and as much as people think boothill is a bad influence on you, they never really consider the fact that you were an even worse influence. sometimes you enjoy egging on the cowboy to show off a bit when on a mission as you always know he'd comply.
↪sometimes boothill grants you a ruffle on the head if you do something good, he almost feels like a proud parent - maybe to the point were he considers granting you medals similar to the ones on his clothes.
↪while boothill want's you to be more careful than he was, he also wants you to live your live to the absolute fullest. so if you don't mind there might be a couple wanted posters of you and boothill together.
↪that also means that there is no limit to what boothill would do for you, he practically see's you as a younger sibling and so if you want/want to do something then he will not stop until you have done or got it. you want to go all the way across the galaxy? pack your bags and get ready to go.
↪he wants to be able to guide you and help you make your way in the galaxy, no matter what you ended up doing he'd support you.
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played the depersonalization demo today! cool game, lots of potential. recommend checking it out, it's on discount for 7 more hours and releases in 2 months
now for the brainrot: i feel like playing horror games or watching horror movies with boothill would end in your device being absolutely riddled with bullets. he just wanted to protect you :( on account of the financial damages you don't do horror activities anymore - 💫
I put a little spin on it 🥴
Boothill is the man.
A cyborg that is a living machine, swallowing bullets like it’s nothing - and spitting them out to petrify anyone who dares to lay a hand on you.
He’s going to protect you from many things - including some measles that appear on your screen.
It’s absolutely not the fact that he’s a little scared of the horror games. Hey, it’s not his fault there’s silence for a while, and then an ugly face jumpscares him! It’s also not his fault he spits outs bullets when he’s taken off guard! And it’s not his fault his pistols are usually loaded and he shoots before thinking—
Ahem, maybe the last one is actually his fault.
Either way, he really does want to protect you! That’s why he clings to you the entire movie, obviously… obviously not because there’s that weird suspense in the air currently… and you know, your arm is just so lonely, boothill thought it might appreciate some cuddling. So he holds onto it with his entire body.
Later on, when he gets a little desensitized to horror movies, he only reacts to loud jumpscares - that unfortunately end up swallowing bullets right in the face, regardless.
And your TV, too…
But the thought counts, right? Right?
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