US IS ME @bonsoiir-blog - Tumblr Blog

tyrell hate in the tyrell tags

#out of office. care to have lunch?#tyrell wellick #get the fuck out

Request from elephantandthedove: “Just a request, but could you please do a gifset of Tyrell and Sharon on the roof (before he strangles her)? I love watching his body language.”

#images.#gif.#profile.#sharon.

laaurens

#images.#profile.

bertinelli

i want you to be where you belong, here with me.

#images.#profile.#alderson

seasonalb1tch

I WANT NO ONE T O E S C A P E

#images.#profile.#INSPIRATION: bateman.#yes i have that tag

drlectah

I want you to be where you belong Here with me.

happy birthday, bro!

#images.#gif.#profile.#alderson.#otp: now it's you and me.

“You look wonderful.”

#open.#independent rp #indie rp #mr robot rp #open rp

juniipers

command: pixi3s. / tyrell

bonsoiir-blog

vigilanteiihacker:

Not that simple, Elliot’s mind argued back. If it were, then maybe his life wouldn’t be such a terrible and chaotic mess. His heart was still hammering away within him. His chest always felt like an empty cavity, and when his heart rate increased, it’d make things echo until the sound was reverberating in his ears. He spent another moment focusing on his breathing, trying to steady the pace. Tyrell kept talking. Elliot couldn’t make sense of most of it. So he wasn’t here to kill him? Or he was, and it was a game of cat and mouse now? Tom and Jerry.

He was playing into Tyrell’s hands. He realized that; but he was aware that right now he was the one at a disadvantage. Technically, he was ‘suffering’ from a psychotic episode. He wasn’t in control of his reality. He hardly knew what was real and what wasn’t. Tyrell had caught him by surprise as soon as Darlene took Flipper out. And so far, he hadn’t done anything to sway the balance of the power in the room. He needed to.

Elliot rocked back onto his heels while he inhaled, swaying his body. He tried to loosen his rigidness. If Tyrell wanted something from him, he needed to use that. He watched the man stalk through his space. He wanted to cringe at the invasion of his privacy. Beads of sweat broke out on his brow. He and Tyrell were different. Elliot didn’t hunt down feelings. He probably couldn’t even if he tried. So replicating a sensation of power… Or control… What the fuck is he talking about – Reapply it? What is he saying I do? “Take off the gloves,” Elliot rushed out the words, thinking as fast as he could. The gloves were a sterile barrier between Tyrell and the world around him. Elliot’s world. If it actually did come down to his death, it’d be harder to trace the evidence back to the criminal. Elliot needed to break that barrier. “Then I might show you.”

He turned on his heel, watched Elliot, and smiled lightly. It was the first demand he’d made. It brought the kind of semblance of a minor turn in this relationship. (Which is what he considered this: not business. A relationship. There were unimportant people he did business with. This was a game changer.)

Not that Elliot had any control in this exchange, but Tyrell never was one for the entirely submissive. He liked a little bartering. So he hooked his thumb under his gloves and peeled them off, like shedding a second skin. A vague metaphor of a rattlesnake came to his mind, but flitted away quickly.

“Please acquiesce for me,” he asked kindly, and finished his routine circling of Elliot’s apartment. He’d scanned all the memorabilia--one single photograph of his family lying on a bookshelf. All the personal trinkets--a beta fish, sadly floating in its aquatic cubicle. He motioned in front of him. Elliot’s tension was about as visible and palpable as fog. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. This was becoming natural more than anything. Tyrell half-guessed this was simply what he looked like all the time. “And lead the way.”

#vigilanteiihacker #[q-tip voice] with a lil bit of uh uh an' a lil bit of uh uh

september17th1986:

Studying the man before him, Elliot was confused by him. There were so many things that he couldn’t pinpoint, his emotions seemed to range. Swallowing hard he gave a soft nod of his head, how could he forget meeting him. It was short, but intense. He didn’t know what to make of Tyrell, he hacked him--he knew who he was. But he was still a mystery to Elliot. “W-What do you want from me?”

What do I want from you? I want your control, your capability, your lack of position, your anonymity. (I want you, too, but he holds his tongue on that, tucking it between his teeth for a moment as he surveys him.)

He likes Elliot. There’s something almost familiar about him. Looking at him his heart race lessens. It thumps into a natural rhythm once more. He’s almost like a depressant. Or perhaps Tyrell simply cherishes the power he holds over him.

#september17th1986