[lustedeaths]

⁎⁺˳ 𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 / 𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐒:: a semi-selective multimuse independent roleplay blog narrated by elle ( she/her, twenty-one plus, aest ). low activity. 

rules • muses • wanted plots • wanted opposites • wanted pairings • wanted dynamics

[writtentragedies]

Even though he knew her well-- Right now it was hard to read the emotions on her face. The tears in her eyes threatening to fall... Were those tears of joy upon seeing him again? ( Seeing him alive ) Or perhaps sadness? Anger? All of those options combined? Leon simply did not know, his own confused feelings making it hard for him to make sense of anything, to fully understand anything at the moment.

Oh but the way she reached out only to pull her hand back seconds later-- Ouch. Alright, he guessed she wasn't very happy then. And most likely had a lot of questions too... Which he was afraid he wouldn't be able to answer, for her own safety, it was best if she stayed in the dark about what really happened in Raccoon City.

"Yeah, well, Raccoon City and most people who lived there are... Gone, that's true. But some of us managed to escape. I was one of the lucky ones, I guess." Was he truly? Yes, he had no doubts that actually escaping hell on earth was much better than becoming a bloodthirsty zombie but... What kind of life was he going to lead from now on? What plans did the government have for him? He wasn't quite certain if he could be considered a lucky guy just yet.

"I'm sorry for showing up like this, it's just that..." He thought about reaching his hand out, decided against it and just curled his hands into fists at his sides as he sighed. A sigh that carried so much pain and exhaustion. "I didn't know where else to go. I don't have anybody else to go to."

[lustedeaths]

If she cared for him any less, she might have accepted the ambiguity of his explanation, simply stepped aside and hurried him along for their long sought reunion. No questions asked, just blissful ignorance upon his return. But Freya did care, immensely, that her very reality shattered and restructured itself around his absence. With no word from Leon following the incident, she had no choice but to assume that he rested among the ruins of the ravaged city; certain that if he survived, he’d have made it known to her. She had never felt more foolish to be wrong. 

“All this time…and you didn’t think to tell me?” The betrayal of it burned hot in her chest, flaring with every shaky, uneven breath. “You had to know what that would do to me.” The evidence had certainly been there for him to see; the gauntness of her cheeks, the exhaustion behind her glassy eyes. Even the way she carried herself spoke of grief that weighed her down to her bones. "And after all, that's all you have to say? That you got lucky?"

Still, no matter her hurt, there was no turning him away. Whatever he survived, whatever the aftermath, she could see enough that it had shifted something in him. All the more reason for her to stand firm in refusing some half-baked truth. He confided in her once upon a time, trusted her enough to let help bear the weight of his burdens. What happened to change that so drastically?

Come his apology, Freya crumpled. She responded with an immediate, firm shake of her head. “I don’t need you to be sorry, Leon—not for that. The door's always been open for you.” The very words sworn throughout the span of their relationship, unchanged even in the most extreme of circumstances. “But I’m asking you not to step through it unless you can be honest with me. I've mourned you far too much to be left in the dark."

[ofbookshelves]

@lustedeath asked "If I was you, I'd run from me."

"well you're not me and i'm not running. what are you hiding from me? why won't you just let me in?"

[lustedeaths]

"Why do the details matter?" Drew countered, tone sharper than intended that even he recoiled. At the very least, he was quick to look apologetic, shoulders slumping and expression softening in a way that revealed the utter exhaustion that lay beneath; a dog with its tail between its legs. Still, he refused to let up, less edged but firm as ever as he dared speak again, "You've seen enough to know you're safer at a distance. We've been foolish to ignore that, and I refuse to anymore. It's for the best you do the same."

[dcgtown]

Andie kisses him back in a way that has Gus certain that he’s dreaming.  It’s everything he’s ever desired but always felt just out of reach.  He melted into the embrace as her forehead rests against his.  Suddenly just sharing the same breath was enough, and despite all of Andie’s fears as they stayed just like this he believed they were right where they were supposed to be.  Gus wasn’t sure if he believed in fate, but whatever this was between the felt and awful lot like it.  

A laugh escapes his lips at her words.  “Oh is that right?”  He smirks before kissing her again, certain he wouldn’t ever get tired of this.  “Well if that’s the case should we stay here just like this until lunch?”  He teases.  

[lustedeaths]

It's a give and take of kisses Andie is unwilling to withdraw from, lips seeming to move on their own as they continued to chase after his over and over again. By then she'd long surpassed mere indulgence, toeing the line of greed—greed that wasn't hers alone, if his words were anything to go by.

"Augustus," Andie gasps, a scandalised noise followed by a half-hearted shove that did nothing to create distance between them, "I didn't take you to be such a glutton."

Pot calling the kettle black, really.

She's grinning up at him then, the same mischievous look that had them stumbling back to her apartment in a frenzy in the first place. "I suppose we do have a lot of time to make up for..." Hands everywhere but to herself, daring to touch what she denied herself of having for far too long. "And you've been so good, so patient for me," voice dropping to a whisper as she mouths against where his pulse frantically beats, "Was it worth it?"

[ancgnorisis]

The grip on her gun didn’t ease at all, not even if she was not aiming it at him anymore, she could see the way he studied her, taking a step back, both ready to flee if it was needed and uncomfortable by the way he seemed to be looking for something. She was not used to this, someone caring enough for her to bother to find out where she had disappeared to.

She could lie to herself and say she had not missed Drew, probably the one person that crossed her mind every night she spent tossing and turning around in the inflatable bed she had bought. Living a life like theirs not many relationships were ever built, or at least they didn’t last long. Anyone could betray for the right amount of cash. That she had learned the wrong way.

Her breathing stops when he speaks, that there’s no one as good as him to send after her, she knows he is the right man to carry out the job, her eyes search over his body rapidly, he’s not armed. Her shoulders relax, even if the panic does not leave her eyes. “Does anyone else know you came looking for me?” She asks finally locking the safety back on her gun. It takes her a few seconds before she reaches for him, arms wrapping around his neck.

[lustedeaths]

Though much afraid himself, Drew dismissed any need to brace for her rejection. He could only expect to receive the trust he gave himself, after all. And despite the impossible odds they faced, Drew trusted Natalia as he always had—violently, without doubt.

Trust that paid itself off as she moved to close the distance between them, pulling him in by the invisible string that kept them tethered. The very same one that guided him to her in the first place, Drew liked to believe. From there it was all muscle memory; arms encircling her waist with a grounding squeeze, frame folding in on her as if he alone could shield her from the dangers that lay ahead.

"Not yet. But they will soon enough," he murmured in warning, lips staying pressed to the crown of her head. "I'll do everything I can to keep them off of you." Arms tightened once more in silent reassurance, words nothing short of a vow. One he would spill blood to see through. "Just...don't go running off without telling me again."

[writtentragedies]

This was a bad idea-- Actually scratch that. It was a terrible one. Now more than ever, he should keep his distance. He was about to start working for the government (he'd be a special agent, they'd said-- but why did he feel more like a dog on a leash than anything else?), he didn't have much of a choice in that matter. He'd had to accept that 'offer' in order to keep both himself and Sherry safe. Oh Sherry-- She was the priority, of course and he really hoped those agents would keep their word and protect her. If they ended up using her for some sort of twisted experiment... No, he couldn't think about that now or he would completely crumble.

& Leon couldn't lose his composure-- couldn't turn into a mess of tears and raging emotions when he was standing at her doorstep. Freya's doorstep. He knew he shouldn't be here, he should turn around and walk away but now that Sherry had been taken away, he felt completely lost. And his heart began to yearn for home... His home wasn't a place though. It was a person.

It was Freya.

(But would she be happy to see him? Would she want to exchange any words with him after she'd been the one to put an end to their relationship? He was fucking nervous. )

After much contemplation, he knocked on the door-- there were so many things he'd like to say, so many apologies to make but as the door opened, the only word that left Leon's mouth was a weak:

"... Hi."

Plotted starter for @lustedeath

[lustedeaths]

The knock upon the door was so soft, it was barely perceptible. Or perhaps she hoped for its absence—hoped to be left alone.

These days, Freya didn't make for very good company; never fully present, unreceptive to people's attempts to provide comfort or support. It was useless, after all. Her grief was one none could understand, and she didn't have it in her to explain. Not when she could barely make sense of it herself.

Still, she could make the distinction between withdrawal and outright dismissal, and the latter was simply not something she could stomach, even at her very worst. So with lazy, fatigued steps, Freya moved towards the entrance of her home, bracing herself for the strain of entertaining another.

Nothing in the world could have prepared her for who awaited her on the other side of the door.

At first, Freya could do nothing but stare. As if she'd resigned herself to the idea that, sooner or later, she would lose her mind enough to conjure his illusion. She would have taken anything, even false or fleeting, to quell the perpetual ache in her chest.

But this was different. This was no image born from memory. If it had been, his eyes would still be the vibrant blue that held an ocean's depth of hope and optimism. He would have held himself steady, with that quiet confidence that had even her believing she could accomplish anything. He would have worn that soft, boyish grin that had her heart aflutter no matter the circumstance. The person that stood in front of her lacked every fundamental aspect of what she remembered her Leon to be, but he was real.

"Leon?" name choked out painfully, vision blurring with tears unshed. Freya reached out instinctively, though just as quickly drew her hand away, stumbling backward as if the very touch of him would burn. It was written all over her face—relief, confusion, hurt, anger. Above all, pure and utmost love that neither time nor distance could have erased. Not even the possibility of death. She didn't know how to reconcile any of it.

Beside herself, Freya laughed, a noise of disbelief and delusion soon breaking into a wretched sob that threatened to rip her open. What was real, anymore? "I don't understand—I thought—they said on the news-" breathless, nonsensical ramblings of an overwhelmed mind pleading for some explanation; something to hold onto as the world turned on its axis.

[lustedeaths]

Andie was eerily calm given the circumstance; posture relaxed, head held high even as the too-tight metal around her wrists threatened to cut off her circulation. She didn't take well to being restrained, having had enough experience with it to last her ten lifetimes. But she'd been wise enough to know that her waning composure was her only saving grace.

So she breathed through it. Slow and subtle, to not signal the bastards outside that she knew were somehow watching; the sting of metal digging into her skin grounding. She eased into the silence designed to unnerve her, listening with practiced focus. From footfall to a mere twist of a doorknob, Andie made note of it all, using scraps of information to make sense of her surroundings.

Soon enough, she became privy to the routine. Two soldiers on either side of the entrance rotating every hour, another three patrolling the surrounding corridors. None dared to open the door, secured only by the fact that the room had no vents, windows, or otherwise for her to slither her way out of.

Just as Andie was beginning to suspect that their only objective was to let her rot right where they left her, the door opened to reveal a familiar face.

Jill.

Fellow prisoner. Sometimes ally, other times rival. Her anchor in the roughest of seas. The very hand that dragged her out of Hell.

Yet, her presence only came with a looming sense of danger. Andie could school her expression however she wanted, but her clenched jaw teased at something underneath.

"What is this? An emotional manipulation tactic?" She almost laughed at the thought. "Did they think you could come in here to tug at my heartstrings?" Now that, she did manage a scoff for. Whatever nestled between her ribs lay cold and dead. "Spare yourself the effort." / @writtentragedies

[dcgtown]

"Fuck, fuck," Gus curses under his breath as he stubs his toe. So much for trying to quietly sneak out into the kitchen. His eyes move to her sleeping frame in the dark and all but holds his breath as she begins to stir awake. It's only when she turns on the bedside lamp that he feels like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Don't be stupid," he says with a sleepy smirk, crossing the room to place a quick kiss to her lips just because he could. In that moment he hopes to stop any doubts or fears creeping up on Andie dead in their tracks. "I'm hungry and I'm still learning to navigate your room in the dark. Sue me," he chuckles.

"Do you want breakfast or what?"

[lustedeaths]

Before she can even think of one of her trademark quips to return, Gus' lips are on hers and her brain is short circuiting at the casualness of his demeanour; domestic and affectionate in a way she's never known. She doesn't know what to do with it—doesn't know how to hold a good thing in her marred hands.

Still, somewhere between her explosive confession and finally giving into the thinly veiled sexual tension that hung over their friendship, Andie determined herself to try. It's the very least she owes him, given the patience he's lended her time and time again.

This time, it's Andie moving in to close the distance between them, lips finding Gus' again in a much more firm and decisive manner. The way she kisses him is utterly indulgent. Unhurried, as if they have all the time in the world. She doesn't stop until she's sure he's in a daze, and even then, she stays in his proximity.

Her forehead falls against his with a breathy laugh, fingers combing affectionately through his mess of hair. "You're sweet. But I'm afraid all you have to find in my kitchen are a concerning amount of knives." And several other weapons. But he didn't need to know that. "Breakfast isn't a real meal, anyway."

[ancgnorisis]

Natalia was not expecting visitors, and she was definitely not expecting anyone to find her. When the security cameras she had set up picked up someone managing to break in she picked up her gun aiming to find them, without making a noise she found herself standing behind them, she pulled the safety off, pressing the muzzle to the back of the man’s neck. 

She recognized that voice immediately, it sent shivers down her spine, confused whether it was relief or concern. What was he doing there? How had he found her. Natalia let out a frustrated grunt before she eased the safety back on and dropped her gun to the side. “How did you find me Drew?” She asked in a rather annoyed tone. “Why did you come here?” Part of her wondered if he had been sent to look for her or if he was here on his own and she was determined to find out. 

[lustedeaths]

Threat of the firearm now gone, Drew shifted on his feet, a mindful forewarning of his movement before he turned to fully face her. There was no helping nor hiding his wandering eyes, searching for any sign of injury or hurt, no matter how minor. Only once he was satisfied to find none did he finally meet her gaze, warm and steady despite their current standing. Though, judging by her tone of voice, the sentiment had certainly not been returned.

He chuckled despite himself, a short breath of a noise but sincere all the same. "You didn't make it easy, I can tell you that much." But he could only joke so much, the latter question at hand snapping him back to the reality of the situation.

"You know why I came here," Drew relented, honest and straightforward as they had always been with one another. Especially when the truth was unpleasant. "The second you left you put a target on your back. Who better to send?" A moment of pause before he added much more quietly, "Though...I'd like to think you also know that I'm here as friend, not foe." At least, he'd hoped so. They'd certainly been through enough together to breed some semblance of trust.

[lustedeaths]

The click of the gun at the base of his skill had Drew halting mid-stride, hands raising slowly in unequivocal surrender. Perhaps he should have forewarned her of his arrival, or at the very least been more forward with his presence instead of slinking around in the shadows like a looming threat, but Natalia had already proven once before to be a flight risk. He couldn't chance her retreating before he could even get to her.

Despite the impasse, the tension of Drew's shoulders only eased with her proximity. Still, the sting of her sudden disappearance from his life remained. But that wasn't something he would freely admit. Instead, he offered a dry jest, "Is this how you greet all your old buddies, or am I just special?" / @ancgnorisis

[lostinruin]

                                  open  to  :  all                         verse  :  post  apocalyptic  scene :  maris  confronts  your  muse  about  being  rude  to  fellow  member  of  their  group.

“ life  is  hard  enough  as  it  is,  you  don't  have  to  be  a  dick  about  it. ” 

[lustedeaths]

In another version of reality, her words would have tugged at something in him. Drew had never sought to be unkind. He was softer, once. More forgiving. Pieces of himself from his past life that he relinquished once it came time to ensure others' survival. Matters of niceties now only seemed arbitrary.

“What your friend did back there was stupid and reckless," Drew asserted, frustration barely contained by clenched fists and gritted teeth. "He put himself and the entire group in danger. If I have to be a dick to make sure that he doesn't pull a stunt like that again, then so be it."

[lustedeaths]

If not for his heavy feet stumbling around like a newborn baby deer, the loud thud that concluded his uncoordinated movements certainly roused Andie from her sleep. Unaccustomed to the vulnerability of sharing her space, she bristled instinctively, poised to engage with a potential threat before she had even reached the state of full consciousness.

Only upon illuminating the room to reveal Gus—hair dishevelled and boxers inside out—did the tension in Andie's body ease, shoulders loosening along with her hold of the sheets against her bare form. She breathed a noise between a sigh and a laugh, begrudgingly endeared at the ridiculous sight.

"Don't tell me you put in all that effort to get me in bed just to sneak out," words spoken like jest. Though, not even she could disregard the underlying uncertainty in her tone. It wasn't as if she could blame him, had that been the case. / @dcgtown

[carnivalheart]

open to: anyone!   muse: louise ‘lou’ lévesque, twenty-six, she/her. cybersecurity engineer, grey-hat hacker and vigilante. secretly a technopath.   plot: your muse got injured, can’t go to a hospital and asked louise for help by showing up at her doorstep in the middle of the night.  possible connections: someone she occasionally works with as a vigilante, ride or die (platonic highly encouraged, give her a best friend), rivals who saved each other more than once, just an acquaintance who needs help, whatever fits. 

“jesus, how is that a scratch?” louise is already back with her first-aid kit. she promptly points to the nearest chair so she can better assess the damage. “sit down. you’re gonna bleed all over my floor.”

[lustedeaths]

"I've had worse," Andie scoffs in an attempt to maintain her usual air of nonchalance, though the hiss she lets out as she sags into the seat does her no favours; nor the sticky crimson spilling over the trembling hand clutching at her injured side. Still, she manages a laugh, tight as it is. "Yeah, well. Apologies for the inconvenience. I'll try to bleed a little less next time."

[dcgtown]

Gus immediatly bites his tongue when Andie tells him to shut up without that usual bite in her tone. He knows he already said too much, but he couldn't hold the fact in any more. It was taking up so much space in his mind it didn't feel like there was room for anything else. It was just Andie. His eyes find hers, his gaze warm despite their previous blistering back and forth. "Prove me wrong then," he practically begs, voice far softer than sounded recognizable.

[lustedeaths]

Andie wants to scream and shout, to resort back to arguing until he had no choice but to relent and walk away once and for all; away from her remarkable talent for destruction. Though, the more selfish part of her dared to yearn otherwise, unable to bare the distance between them any longer. It was the latter she yielded to as she took hesitant steps forward, stopping only once her lowly hung head could rest against his. "I don't know how to," she utters with a shaky breath, eyes unable to meet his fully. "I'm scared," she admits, quieter now. "I ruin every good thing in my life and I'm terrified of doing the same to you."

[dcgtown]

TJ's eyes follow the man as he walks away, making sure he doesn't do anything stupid like double back to try and get Nina's attention again. The tension carried in her shoulders eases as he leaves the room entirely, and her focus is again back on the woman next to her. "I never said I wasn't gonna drink it," TJ smirks as sips from her glass. "I just said it was happening off the record." Her eyes scan the room, the sea of people already more than enough to feel chaotic. "Just let me know when you're ready," she nods. It wasn't TJ's job to keep her schedule, they could take as long as she needed.

[lustedeaths]

Nina snorts, eyes rolling in a manner far more affectionate than when directed at any other. "When has anything we've ever done been on the record?" she retorts, voice low enough that only she could hear. It was perhaps the very thing that solidified their connection; the sense of agency and excitement her company brought. Her playfulness falters at the reminder of their whereabouts, more aware than ever of the chatter around them. There was once a time she was unfazed by it all, but nowadays, even a singular pair of eyes on her felt too invasive. "Would it make me a coward to admit that I don't think I'll ever feel ready?"

[psterboyz]

atticus couldn't help but scoff at her words, his gaze averting from hers before he looked back. " oh, i'm the one that comes running? " he asked, his voice almost a taunt before he crossed his arms over his chest. " last i remembered, you were the one callin' me sayin' you needed me. if anybody is ruinin' anything around here, it sure as shit isn't me, nina. give me a fuckin' break. "

[lustedeaths]

"God forbid a woman wants to let off some steam!" Nina retorted, opposing his stance with a wild gesture of her hands. She was never one to be so defensive, an expert in nonchalance even in the most trying of times. Though, evidently, Atticus was the exception. "You know, you sure have a lot to say for someone who doesn't even have the balls to say what he actually wants."

[dcgtown]

closed starter for @idledwritings

"You can tell me anything you know that."

[lustedeaths]

Her already faint smile falters at his words, heartstrings tugging painfully. Every part of her yearns to reach for his outstretched hand—steady and willing as it had always been—but it was not in her nature. Freya knew only to suppress and endure; to set aside her own burdens and shoulder the weight of others. Not even the greatest tragedy of her life could change that. "I appreciate the concern, really. But I'm fine," spoken as if read from a script, unoriginal as it may have been. "Keeping busy."