is your blood 𝑎𝑢𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑐 ?

𝑖 𝑎𝑚 𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒏 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑎 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑— 𝐑𝐀𝐖 & 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑

[thruteeth]

₁. rules.   ₂. roster.   ₃. prompts.   ₄. playlists.   ₅. aesthetic.

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎    [ ... ]    a  video game  based  multi - muse centered  heavily  on  personal  interpretations,  focused  on  world  building  and  relationship  formation.    selective  and  mutually  exclusive,  fed  by   𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑠   ( 36  she / they / he  est. )   and  ruled  by  none.    this  blog  contains  varying  degrees  of  mature  content,  discretion  is  advised  as  triggers  are  rarely  tagged.    minimal  rules  and  simplified  muse  list  below  the  cut.

heavily affiliated with : riphalos , dspndncy

♡   mun is deeds , 36 , est , all pronouns. ♡   this is an extremely selective , mutually exclusive roleplay blog. ♡   chronically bad at non - plot related conversations. ♡   i do not follow for follow. ♡   i maintain the right of refusal. ♡   most often in drafts , rarely stalk the dash. ♡   anti - purity culture. ♡   minimal formatting , occasional icons. ♡   i practice frequent and liberal softblocking. ♡ very ship positive. ♡ heavily oc inclusive. ♡   dupe friendly with minor reservations for friends and multis. ♡   attachment to those who indulge me often. ♡   here for low - stress writing above all else.

current roster , subject to change at a moment's notice. characters are listed alphabetically with no implications towards interest. each have a personal url for tag tracking and blacklisting if necessary. last updated may 3rd 2026.

▹ BORDERLANDS ↪ angel the siren , #ctrlcore ↪ timothy lawrence , #debtskin ↪ troy calypso , #leechedya ▹ DAYS GONE ↪ deacon st. john , #mongrelsmade ▹ FINAL FANTASY ↪ cloud strife , #becleaved ↪ lightning farron , #bltzkrieg ↪ reno sinclair , #tothrills ▹ RESIDENT EVIL ↪ albert wesker , #contamirot ↪ carlos oliveira , #spentshell ↪ emily ashcroft , #offeredlamb ↪ joe baker , #bayoubound ↪ hunk , #rottenend ↪ leon kennedy , #grimcycle ↪ rain ocampo , #brokeeven ↪ victor gideon , #rotilian ▹ ORIGINAL CHARACTERS ↪ dr. marzia vani , #enviscera dossier.

[thruteeth]

the universe knew i would be too powerful if i had good health and ample energy.

[thruteeth]

y'all ain't allowed to judge me. i'm about to come into a lot of free time so i'm gonna indulge some more characters who tend to whisper in the ear. some will be permanent stays, others may just be for my summer break. point is, i have so much muse and i am excited to write the second life takes its boot off my throat long enough to sink into my ~voice. i'll be adding these nerds to the formal muse list at some point but let it be known if you wish to touch anyone, i am here to... yanno, be annoying and offer the goods to whatever degree you seek them. ;*

BALDUR'S GATE

damaen - durge, paladin (oathbreaker), drow, lolth-sworn, baahl's chosen l'rhea baltmado - tav, druid, tiefling, follower of lathander, pink coded briar elsewere - misc, bard, human, follower of none, flute girl minthara baenre - noble, paladin (vengeance), drow, lolth-sworn, true soul

FINAL FANTASY

snow villiers - ffxiii/xiii-2 oerba dia vanille - ffxiii squall leonheart - ffviii kadaj - ff advent children rude - ffvii/r leslie kyle - ffviir

KINGDOM HEARTS

demyx / myde - no. 9 axel / lea - no. 8 ( v v canon divergent )

LEGEND OF ZELDA

link - ocarina of time & majora's mask centric

RESIDENT EVIL

rosemary winters - re8 village / shadows of rose manuela hidalgo - re: the darkside chronicles

[thruteeth]

me, holding up my durge son proudly. :))) we ate people today folks. xo our father is very proud of us. may or may not have indulged in nefarious activities. ;*

[riphalos]

@thruteeth asked: 18﹕ sender comes to receiver after being injured . / cloud ➤ tifa

his boots drag over squeaking floorboards and tifa hears the stagger in his steps before she sees what leaks red through gloved fingers. he needn't say a word, needn't even make eye contact for her to rush forward. because she knows cloud — knows he'd hide the wound if he didn't want her help, knows he'd turn to mask the severity and slouch away somewhere hidden if he'd hoped to avoid her often-offered aid. so of course she's here ( always, always ) and only sighs quietly as she gingerly reaches to regard the wound herself, brow knit with the worry bunched up tight for him ( always, always ).

"oh, cloud." she's solid and strong, can easily guide him into a chair so she can kneel beside him. the cut's deep, but nothing she can't patch up. "c'mon, sit still. stay still," she urges gently, but with an undertone of firmness she folds emphasis into with a purposeful glance into pale eyes. a glance that softens, that cups his with tenderness to accompany the hand she rests across his own. both to offer reassurance and to begin helping him peel aside his palm alongside the dragging fabric of his shirt. "what happened?"

[thruteeth]

he's not sure which dirties up the place worse ; the mud on his boots or the blood leaked between his fingers. neither seem to bother tifa and though he's not surprised, there's an undertow that whispers he'll need to make it up to her. adds it to an ever-growing list that will never find an end so long as he repeats the same mistakes over and over and over again. walking into a mirage. listening to voices that aren't there. this time, the fall was short, just a few stories. but next time ? he'd lie, if asked, and say there'd not be a next time.

" wasn't paying attention, " dull, listless, his voice is distant and the stool up under him whines where he doesn't. moves as she instructs, back to bare what met the business end of twisted rebar and a shack's rusted roof top. it'll heal, quick, too, probably. turn itself into a reminder that heights deserved better than his wandering mind and careless pursuits. no matter how tall they towered or how hot the flames in their wake could seem. illusion or memory, it's tucked away beneath his tongue and a frown. " ..i don't know. "

exhaustion tugs his shoulders forward, leans his crown into one of hers for a second to catch breaths that aren't coming quite as steady as he needs them. a side effect of forgetting his limitations, maybe, but she'd recognize his idling for what it is. in the absence of words, cloud confesses he's tired. spent. he's a barrel what's bottom has been scraped clean and the only blame to be had is his alone.

" i just need a minute. " one minute and a whole lifetime on top of it.

[riphalos]

@thruteeth asked: 52﹕ sender takes a [ punch / stab / bullet ] meant for receiver . / albert ➤ chris

it happens fast, too fast — a blur in the last-minute catch of peripherals swung with the sudden turn of his head. he hears it more than he sees it, too. a low grunt, the shuffling of a struggle, the startled gasp of a stranger's voice bunched, gargled, in a damaged throat desperate to gulp down air. chris even stumbles back, shoved by the hard invasion of a body inserting itself between him and whatever ambush had been meant to split flesh. the same flesh that spikes alive with adrenaline, with surprise of his own as he realizes what's happened.

the assailant has been dealt with in the sliver of a second, it seems; sprawled back on the concrete in this unfinished construction site of a hideout. but that's not as important as what had pushed between chris and the knife carving for redfield's blood. wesker had moved between them in the blink of an instant, must have snapped the attacker's neck or crunched his windpipe with a jab so deadly precise. either way, chris is grateful ( if flustered, if embarrassed that he'd needed the assist enough for such personal interference ) and exhales a low whistle of praise as he reaches for his captain's shoulder, squeezes his appreciation and means to prompt him to turn so he can look him in the face. "shit, cap. nice catch. can't believe i didn't even—"

that's when he sees it, the knife still sunk into albert's side. he'd begun to wonder where the weapon had skidded away to and sees now it had found paydirt after all. wesker hadn't just interfered for efficiency's sake and chris blinks stunned with the discovery, the realization. "—the fuck?"

he looks to dark shades that never show much, puts a hand over the knife's hilt and knows enough, at least, not to pull. he only swallows thickly, cups the entry site and lets red leak between thick fingers as he shakes his head. he knows he'll be scolded, doesn't dread the upcoming snap sharp between wesker's teeth. it will be well-deserved and chris only attempts to help sit him down atop a pile of pallets. doesn't matter how tough and enduring the man is, how cold and curt and callous. chris can't make light of the act, nor his own failure to prevent it. "why'd you…? shit, wesker. shouldn't have done that, why did you do that?"

[thruteeth]

simple missions are rarely simple. one day, he'll question himself why he prefers it that way. savors the kick of adrenaline when a plan need pivot and his timeframe gets cut in half. quartered if they're unlucky. out from under the glare of bright lights, his hands are steady on the grip of his pistol. another corridor scanned meant they could move on. leave the pit of this warehouse and another den of drug mules carting off the property of what stretches broad over the whole of the city. umbrella had a certain vested interest in this going according to plan. and he.. albert had interests of his own.

three feet from a hatch door, he sees the glint that redfield doesn't. weighs the worth of intervention against the long-term payout of an experiment that's still many, many months away. beneath that, even, however, is something untouched and deliberately reburied. its part in his decision is for his eyes only, the initial sting of impatient steel all the motivation he needs to forget fascination and opt, instead, for the fluid lean of strong arms and a torque that severs a scream from wide lips. he doesn't see their face, both darkness and balaclava keep them a mystery he isn't moving to unearth. allows the body ( all that remains ) slump slowly beside unimpressed boots that further nudge for distance. space to decide his next move.

only.. chris does that for him. hurries to cup a steady pressure at either side of a deceptively long blade while his hands choose their own targets. the left ; his holster, gun seated and safe. the right ; a thick wrist, squeezed but not jerked away.

" hn, " his grunt isn't damning, though it rises from somewhere deep. pushes itself against a pulse he feels quickening under the pads of bare fingers. a sidekick for his concern, blatant and loud, doing their placement, there, in the belly of enemy territory, no favors. " quiet, " through teeth, it's a quiver he hadn't expected. the waver that pulls his subordinate from the doorway, back nearer the stock they'd marked already. someplace his shoulders can lean into while the damage is assessed and all that panic in hazel eyes garners the momentum to dull his reprimand. blunt it into another measured exhale. another glance whether blood runs slick between their hands. why did he do it ?

" your death would make for too much paperwork. " truth, while unconventional, will distract him. help frame this hiccup in better light while the gauze is frisked from his hip pouch. " you're getting sloppy. "

[riphalos]

@thruteeth asked: sender is caught snooping in receiver’s things . / reno ➤ rufus

the news blares nonstop, an incessant boom of fear mongering and ass-kissing rufus has witnessed since boyhood. but rather than bloom his gaze wide, wondering, worried, there is only the dimmed dullness of disappointment within the pale eyes that scrutinize the screen. another failed assassination attempt on his father's life, another reason for heidegger to bulk up security and leave less to hope for within each morning's emails sitting far too smug within his inbox.

the turks, though. the turks hadn't risked what truly matters — what is shinra's future, what is shinra's only way forward out of inevitable decay. rufus had almost resisted the order, though. had insisted he deal personally with any assailant waiting to spring a second strike all the way here in junon. it would've been a farce, after all. any attempt at his own life would have only had the president asking if his VP had put the problem down himself and scoffed at either answer.

the king does not dirty his hands with what lesser men and hunting dogs are meant for.

stand strong, be a man. letting your battles be fought for you is a coward's move!

the old man's voice swinging either way pulls his son's lips into a sneer, even when it sits imagined in his own head. and shames him for letting reno take him by the shoulder, tell him he's got orders and they gotta ditch his office for his penthouse. fine, he'd huffed.

now that's where he stands, finally rolling his eyes and turning away from the news footage of the sniper's poor shot and the president's head getting ducked down by his military escort. the circus bores him, has him shucking off his long white coat to throw over the sofa. he wants a drink, also needs to clock where reno's decided to lurk. there's movement in the living room, where a lanky shape cuts distinct against so much expensive marble.

it helps that darkstar barks, snitching on the culprit as he looms over a scattering of photos on the table. "find anything good?" though a bad mood sinks his tone low, there's amusement lilting the edges enough. he's teasing, if only just. "perhaps i should inform tseng we've a spy in our midst."

[thruteeth]

something something, tighten his circle. the ins and outs of the orders are second-hand and he's quick to wave them off as they situate. he knew how to do his job. he knew when to bow his head and bite his tongue, albeit something done without the illusion that he enjoyed it. that's what rufus preferred. had said so from the start. he liked his turks with their teeth bare and their grins sharp. liked how they knew the hierarchy of the company in mind.. liked how they disregarded the expected and differed to him instead. even now. when when his own head was between crosshairs. again. like always.

the penthouse is one more pitstop in his opinion. it's warm lighting and fancy flasks half-emptied their expensive liquors he's been offered a time or two but never indulged in. always with the tests. always with the want to know where his professionalism began and end. would've humored the question on its own, but there's an entertaining facet that can only come from paced words and his own amused explitives.

so when rufus wanders ? he seeks his distractions elsewhere.

lured by the sprawl of frames.. the half-tucked albums coated in dust, lacking any sentimentality in a hardly creased spine. could've put a bullseye on it and been less obvious. reno's fingers are thin and deft. they're quick on the draw and tap a rhythmless beat atop aged photographs, all different hues of sun soaked. they'd sat out, once. on a mantle, probably. some make-believe attempt at normalcy that the shinra name couldn't function alongside. the old man ? still old. more hair, perhaps, but he's thick in the middle, a cigar between his lips and the sour expression of a man who'd rather be anywhere else.

the woman though.. he's not met her. could gauge some relation in those pretty blue eyes that mirror the boy held close to her breast. that.. now that's different.

" maybe, " good was arguable. there's nothing good about a child with red cheeks and the obvious signs of a tantrum. tucked into a tiny suit, reno's snickering as he flips ahead. " go ahead and give him a reason, i'm sure he's dying to chew my ass. " make up for a handful of missions that might have seen fulfillment, though he'd been sure to leave several dents on several cars in the process. man had to make his own fun when work dragged on. " lookin' for a tub pic i can run off with for the press, obviously. bare-assed baby smack dab on the front page. " reno wasn't looking for anything. that's what made finding it so much sweeter.

" you done watching the suits parade around like this shit ain't happening almost every day ? " one of them, the shooter'd get lucky, as would they.

[riphalos]

@thruteeth asked: sender lifts receiver's chin , invoking eye contact . / leon ➤ ada

what is ada if not sharpness and ice, the serrated edge of a blade that will shred even when it's pulled free from the stab wound? she knows this, embraces this, lives this; breathes this completely cool and composed, unbothered by the mess always spattered so much scarlet truth in the aftermath. and yet… leon kennedy keeps coming back. keeps finding her in the dark crags of this ugly world, keeps softening tired looks that should stay steeled for the inevitable cold front and the mauling bite and the twist of that goddamn knife.

but here he is, all the same. here he is when she tries to show him in so much ghosting and silence that maybe, just maybe, he should reconsider when she leaves him an invitation to finally find her.

it had been that card in his pocket, that smallest slip of something soft in such a frigid agenda. one she hadn't hidden when they'd last parted ways and she'd offered him that spot on a chopper he'd waved off. a mistake, then, to have also gifted him this dangerous sliver of a chance. a mistake… that she still humors now that they're both here in the hotel suite. and she hasn't said a word, has kept her face turned aside and her gaze averted. but leon, predictable and foolish leon, still approaches. still caresses her chin within roughened fingertips, coaxes it upward. instinct puts her gaze in his before she can help it and there it stays, stern in the low light of early evening and gleaming more with relief than anything akin to the sardonic amusement that sits more at home in their sly darkness. "…idiot. you shouldn't have come."

[thruteeth]

there had never been an alternative. never had an urge to fly back home and pretend there wasn't this bottomless cleft grown wide in his belly. that chasm she'd filled in the dark, quiet interlude between bouts of gunfire and shouting. ada posed her invitation like a threat. a warning. told him how and where to find her when this was all said and done and, now that he has, she's as evasive as ever. haughty gaze turning elsewhere.. arms folded, then not. she's standoffish and he knows better than to step into space occupied and uninviting.

but..

" yeah, probably not, " it rattles earnest. conjoins with the brush of his thumb and a pensive exhale that sinks his shoulders and begins the slow, ambling curl of a half-hearted smile. " but i've always been a slow learner. " and the shallow morose that pulls the sly edge off her features is enough incentive to convince him he'd made the right call. there's no space left. nothing but a breath held for her sake and the first nudge from his brow to hers is glancing. just contact. just reassurance. she's coiled tight, spring-loaded and always ready to make her exit. maybe his want, then, is greedy. maybe leon's lips, chaste in their landing, have no right to deprive her of that escape. maybe he'd have cared more if he weren't such an idiot.

" should teach me how to listen better. " he's deaf, now. honed in on his own pulse, beating frantic against his eardrum. he's blind, now. tunnel vision that can only find her. " have a commanding officer who'd be pretty thankful if you could figure it out. "

[thruteeth]

Q. " are you willing to bet on it ? "

for a dance with so many steps, cloud has yet to move. he's taken root, there, a fair distance away, hand on hilt, but not ready to draw. it's a distraction. he runs the interference so that others can dodge the brunt of a closing maw. slip between shinra's massive teeth.. they're outside the range of anything world shattering, but bullets travel far and he's more equipped to absorb them. more equipped to face the curve of that smirk and neither blanche nor rise to its baiting.

" i don't bet. " simple to snuff out whatever air of amusement @riphalos hoped to find in his steady frown or the slow approach of an otherwise silent march. not because he'd been called. if rufus wanted to play, his dog was steady at his heel already. no, there's motivation for a short climb and the stunted gulf he's drained till miniscule, " —prefer sure things. "

and he is sure. so much so that his raised chin is likened to a crooked finger. a dare. meet him half-way and see how much conviction sits steady. even under the shadow of flanking guards, the match is closer to even than skewed. " is your plan to talk me into submission ? " lump another headache atop the one that pulls pale brows tight and couldn't fashion itself a collar on its own. " let's just get this over with. "

[thruteeth]

Q. " do you really think that's helpful right now ? "

helpful has nothing to do with it. fingers moving a practice run across bloodied keys before the code he'd memorized two hours prior is tapped in in place of a password. the screen flickers, blips out, then unspools umbrella's logo with all the fanfare of some great reveal. cute. two folders over, it's the data he'd been sent for, one right click escorting all that corruption onto a disk he'd frisked from his breast pocket without looking. it'll take a minute ( or several ) and, for knowing that, she'd chipped off a fraction of his already divided attention.

" keep going if you want, " muffled by his mask as it is, there's an undertow that can't be hidden. almost a chuckle. almost. happenstance and close calls had made her a decent enough companion, but theirs wasn't a shared goal and incidental camaraderie didn't equate to much once he'd shaken the circumstantial nature from it.

30% and counting, hunks gaze keeps that small, swelling bar in his peripherals while the lab around them, disheveled and ichor smeared, is taken in. poor bastards hadn't stood a chance. caught off-guard, their charges likely the ones that staggered on the opposing side of thick but quivering glass. " they're slow, you can run around them. " his hip against the corner of the desk, further evidence that @joyousdefunct was on her own if she was feeling lucky, " ..if you're in such a hurry. "

[jamsmemes]

(     *     DOOM: ANNIHILATION.    

a selection of dialogue prompts taken from the movie doom: annihilation. feel free to change pronouns / details as needed.

❛ you’ve gotta be kidding me. ❜

❛ don’t be jealous. ❜

❛ you got a lucky pair of undies? what makes them lucky? ❜

❛ wouldn’t you love to find out? ❜

❛ you look good. ❜

❛ this is sort of a promotion for me. ❜

❛ we are violating the laws of physics. ❜

❛ is all this information gonna be on the test? ❜

❛ so, what’s the danger? ❜

❛ you fucked up. ❜

❛ do i make myself clear? ❜

❛ come on, move your ass. ❜

❛ in order to fight the enemy, you gotta stop fighting yourself. ❜

❛ i’m the one who should be nervous, not you. ❜

❛ i wanna be with you, i wanna come home. ❜

❛ it’s good to see you. ❜

❛ what’s the problem? ❜

❛ we have an urgent developing situation. ❜

❛ i thought you’ve never been here before. ❜

❛ what the fuck is that? ❜

❛ ugh. not this again. ❜

❛ they are gonna rue the day they fuck with me. ❜

❛ you got your toy, i got mine. ❜

❛ something’s wrong? ❜

❛ it’s like a tomb. ❜

❛ who the fuck designed this place? ❜

❛ if you’re about to say what i think you’re gonna say, i’m gonna shoot you in the face. ❜

❛ where are we going? ❜

❛ where the fuck is everybody? ❜

❛ found a body. he’s one of ours. ❜

❛ how can i help you? ❜

❛ through wrath will come justice. ❜

❛ no escape this time. ❜

❛ this doesn’t make any sense. ❜

❛ we’ve got to be close. let’s keep looking. ❜

❛ i thought i saw something. ❜

❛ identify yourself. ❜

❛ show me your hands! ❜

❛ what the fuck is that? ❜

❛ we’re safe now. you’re gonna be just fine. ❜

❛ what’s going on? ❜

❛ are you fucking crazy? ❜

❛ that’s what i’m trying to tell you. ❜

❛ we have a situation. ❜

❛ we need to get out of here! ❜

❛ we need to find the others. ❜

❛ fuck this, i’m too young to die! ❜

❛ get back here! ❜

❛ let’s go. come on. i got you. ❜

❛ are they gone? ❜

❛ i’m not playing anymore! ❜

❛ nice shooting. ❜

❛ i deserved that. ❜

❛ there’s something you’re not telling us. ❜

❛ i fucking knew it! ❜

❛ you’re alive! thank god! you’re here. ❜

❛ will you please try again? ❜

❛ well, i can’t just sit here. ❜

❛ i’m sorry, but i can’t let you leave. ❜

❛ what do you mean, you can’t let me leave? ❜

❛ no one’s allowed to leave. ❜

❛ you will reveal whatever i damn well ask you to reveal. ❜

❛ if the human race wants to live on, it has to find a new home. ❜

❛ it doesn’t take a fucking genius to figure it out. ❜

❛ don’t be ridiculous. ❜

❛ this was just a setback. ❜

❛ did you just call what happened today a setback? ❜

❛ this is not your decision. ❜

❛ i will not allow it! ❜

❛ faith costs nothing. ❜

❛ any chance i can get something to drink? ❜

❛ can you open the door? ❜

❛ what are you looking for? maybe i can be of assistance. ❜

❛ get out of the way! ❜

❛ stay with me. ❜

❛ you said you couldn’t remember. ❜

❛ we’re stuck here. ❜

❛ i didn’t ask for your life story. ❜

❛ thanks, but no thanks. ❜

❛ when we don’t report back, they’ll send a rescue party. ❜

❛ if we’re gonna die, i would rather go down fighting. ❜

❛ i might not be a scientist, but i’m not an idiot. ❜

❛ that’s not exactly how it happened. ❜

❛ i’m sure you’ve got your side of the story. ❜

❛ we all make mistakes. i certainly do. ❜

❛ i never said that. ❜

❛ i remember everything. ❜

❛ you have your orders. i have mine. ❜

❛ this place is enormous. ❜

❛ let’s go get this son of a bitch. ❜

❛ what are they gonna do, sue me? ❜

❛ i ignored the order, thinking i knew best, thinking i could be a hero. ❜

❛ you’ve overcome so much in your life, you can overcome this. ❜

❛ i’ve never heard you curse before. ❜

❛ someone found a shiny new toy. ❜

❛ what i thought was punishment turned out to be my salvation. ❜

❛ you can’t kill what’s already dead. ❜

❛ humans. is there anything more pathetic? ❜

❛ have faith that in your darkest moment you won’t be alone. ❜

❛ where am i? ❜

❛ i just wanna check your condition. ❜

❛ i’m fine. i could use a drink. ❜

❛ how, may i ask, did you end up here? ❜

❛ you need to shut this down. ❜

❛ did you hear what i fucking said? ❜

❛ what are you doing? ❜

❛ we are gonna look after you. ❜

[thruteeth]

Q. " do you believe people can change ? "

paperwork was never his gig. one sheet blends in with a second blends in with a third and the stack is as good as kindling in the line of frustrated eyes that lost focus after the second paragraph. tseng's punishment. the bottom of a repeatedly clicked tongue and one too many off-handed remarks that let him know the water he waded in wasn't boiling, but it'd lost its tepid comfort a while ago. toes had been stepped on. bosses were curling their lips. not his, but someone else's bosses. shareholders with pockets too deep to know what they'd been fondling the last few conversations had been reno's final nerve.

better he save his irritation for a stapler and company that hadn't looked overly impressed by his grumbling. @riphalos never looked over impressed by anything, though. not his sharp tongue nor his quick wit. they may have skirted a line of easily scrutinized unprofessionalism, but here, now ? he played the part of peon amicably.

" change what ? " agitation is an uninvited guest and the gold of a back molar bites the fringe of worse to stall a want to dig deeper. see how much shit he'd get buried under over the course of a single day. were rufus anyone else, he'd have bet it'd reach his neck before noon. but he isn't anyone else. he's a steady, frigid stare and even the heat of pent resentment won't thaw what's laid out with casual conversation. " depends whose asking. " thumb to tongue, an old habit that makes flipping through lackluster reports easier, " most people won't change shit. " and, afterthought meets addendum, " —sir. "

[thruteeth]

"being so far behind that your craterous, collapsing brain can't choose any one post to start on" an autobiography

[thruteeth]

what if — hear me out — what if.... i put my old threads out of sight out of mind... and focused solely on NEW and SHINY threads that will undoubtedly invoke greater stimulation ? will i be stoned or quartered if i focus on my inbox and whatever heinous material i implant in the inboxes of others until such a time where i find the gumption to address my obscene number of drafts ? imma do this.

THATS NOT TO SAY IM DROPPING OLD THREADS !!! i just need to suck some gas into the engine before i try and speed on the freeway.

also if yall want a meme or twelve... js js, you could, yanno, fondle this bad boy and i'll get nice and invasive while addressing my own inbox and pretending there isn't the weight of a small nation living in my drafts.

[riphalos]

she knows the stakes will be raised as soon as she sets her challenge within the knuckles that graze his ribs. knows she can't take back the wordless promise within her teeth ( i will be more, i will prove myself, you will eat your words ) as soon as a hard, merciless grip closes around her wrist. she hadn't made the lunge forward thinking it would be easy, thinking it could be simple. those things don't exist in the same room as albert wesker. not even in the same building, where he so effortlessly seems to keep his team on their toes with a tip of the chin, a scoff of his breath. so the ruthless ease with which he drags her into that hold isn't wholly unexpected; tightens itself the manifestation of his expectation locking hard like a python's coils thick, brutal, crushing around her neck.

jill jolts only at first, tense with the instinctual urge to thrash, escape, flee. but she knows that only makes muscles clench harder, encourages jaws heavier where they've trapped their catch. army training isn't the only thing that reminds her of how men expect the game be played and wesker is not like most men, or any at all she's ever known. so her heart pounds and her blood drums loud in her ears. though fear, doubt, and stress are hardly to blame for the heightened beat or the heat that's pooling again in her gut; her senses awake and alert and wired so damn alive in a rush she feels tingling between the shoulder blades pressed into the hard shape of him behind her.

the 'whys' are not worth her attention right now. she has a job to do, a self to salvage, a point to prove. and an ego to topple where it would be better suited disheveled upon the floor beneath her, scuffed and panting.

but her frustration is still palpable and steeled within the hard line of her jaw, the gritted line of teeth she bares briefly. because he's still so calm there, still such a level voice and now it washes hot against the shell of her ear. raises gooseflesh up the side of her captive neck, prickles a clawed touch feather-light to the nape. smug bastard.

jill tests his grip, jerking just enough to find where best to use his weight against him. and to give the impression that she aims to thrash and kick and squirm when instead she wills her lungs to slow, her head to keep thoughts precise like he himself has often reminded. much as his closeness threatens more of that distraction alive and hungry the further this unfolds and stokes a fire she should've stamped out weeks ago.

his voice sinks through her skin, settles down deep past it and coaxes that heat needling and gnawing into her insides. also taunts her, tests her like the vibrations from his chest firm and flush behind her as the sound resonates through her own ribs like a growl. one that unspools her own for a moment; some low sound more instinctual than anything strained from effort huffed in frustration. because now he does have all of her attention. now it is just him — rock solid, unmoving and unyielding and unimpressed — and her, whose hand latches to one of his thighs where her nails dig in and drag.

slowly, just slowly, that hard touch pulls up the length of that strong slope of leg almost sensual, ghosting intimate. and her head, wrenched back as it is, rocks further just once as though to boldly offer more throat to the squeeze of his bicep, but more so to hiss words to him through her teeth in the huff of a labored growl. "ever think… you're right where i want you?"

her hand squeezes at his thigh before dropping, the other reaching back to actually swipe for his shades just before he guides their roll. a hard fling is meant to send them flying before she gives a firm, bucking thrust with her pelvis — an abrupt push of her lower center of gravity meant to jostle his higher one, to try and use her grounded advantage against him to budge open even the smallest sliver of space in his hold for her to slip free. which she's ready for, prepared to twist to the side out from under the crook of his arm as she fights to bow her head down in spite of his heavy clutch to try and maneuver any tiny shift of weight, of power, of torque she can manipulate against him in the sharp seconds of action she's trying to finesse as fast as she can. is determined, one way or another, to throw him onto the mat to stake a pounced claim atop whenever the chance opens. if she can't use this moment efficiently, he'll just clamp down harder and that'll be that.

her brow furrows, her body moves lithesome, sleek, with stern purpose. because jill has to prove herself, has to make this count. otherwise, she shouldn't be here. and… she wants to be here.

here, right here, not just in this building or in this squad. here with him, the one who never pulls his punches where so many else do and leave her wanting.

[thruteeth]

between the initial grab and this newest cinch, there've been ample opportunities to end this. some are simple. just, even. the twist of his hips to plant her face down on the mat. sink his fingers further into the crook of his arm.. squeeze until she stops quivering. he considers it with the careful calm of a man unpressed for time. this isn't his point to prove. albert will walk out of this room with the same stride he walked into it with. his chin will remain high, his gaze an intrinsically appraising one, veiled and cold. he'll put distance between himself and the precinct, a wayward mission more due for his focus than the scraps someone, eventually, would scrape from the mat.

under that, however, is something more. primal in the exhale fanning her nape. jill's pulse, thrumming against his forearm, it pleads in wordless struggle, bleating for an end that could be dredged from the bottom of him. pulled forward with the muck and the brine of it all.. his cheekbone nestled near the base of her skull ; she'd fight it, but he could find the torque. he could twist until that savory pop! told him he'd done well. a limp body, still warm, rolled into whichever corner suited her. there'd be uproar. an investigation. there would be fallout and too many lines drawn for one man to tiptoe between. for all the option that it may be, he's turned away from it, quick as it rose.

" no, " pointed and quiet, her jostling rocks the both of them, the hand on his thigh failing to go unnoticed as it seeks refuge high and deep. digs for a pressure point he turns away from desperate fingertips and allows the momentum to veer in her favor. fun as it'd be to truly test her, there was ample justification in keeping her around. intact. on his side.

jill's want is to roll them one way, thrusted hips insisting the left and, for her trouble, he gives her the right. relents so as to revolve as far as an outstretched arm allows. not so much to boast freedom, but enough to say she's on the verge of it. would taste fresh air in desperate gulps while he, on his back, grins at the ceiling and gauges his want to return. see if that satisfaction can maintain itself under the tutelage of damning hands still in control of a wrist that, so thin, could be snapped with the right momentum.

to her credit, the angle is odd. not ideal. a swipe for his glasses might have skewed them briefly, but gravity and a nod ( jerked with necessity ) reseats them.

" impressive. " albert isn't panting, each inhale as stable as its predecessors, " a strange place to want me at, however. "

distance works to jill's advantage, but his is an appeal that bathes in the shadow of her oversight. where half-gloved fingers are counting a heartbeat that dances an erratic rhythm and the first in a pair of tugs shortens the space between them. even with shoulder blades firmly squared over pads, his strength supplants hers. all the reminder needed of those braggadocios colleagues she strives so hard to impress. he is her surrogate. he is the amalgam and the obstacle. the obelisk she plants her heels and attempts to budge with grit and frustration alone. but for each inch gained, her captain snatches back two. three. takes advantage of his composure to pivot, his stance righted to rooted knees and the arm still pulled is an easy target.

a chance to breathe may seem useful, but he was bred for purposes like this. scraped soles, long legs, someone less learned wouldn't be capable without causing unnecessary damage. they'd twist wrong. they would fall victim to an overzealous aptitude and the sudden armbar he traps her in would be disastrous.

instead, it teases fondness. an almost delicate transition, his thumb taps a casual beat to mimic the pulse sat below. crook of an elbow.. curve of a bicep. for each punch pulled, so too are hers. tact and training, there came a point where survival needed to learn its worth. utilize the weapons all were born with. blunt nails wouldn't suffice, but the teeth gnashed ? what he feels grinding under the pressure of a jaw so tense ? jill would get free when she accepted that not all skills need be tactical. not every technique was in a handbook.

" what are you thinking, right now. " was she in this room still ? how far did valentine's mind wander, left to the quiet grunts of a match decided hours ago.. before she'd descended that long, narrow staircase. before he'd accepted her request. albert's tucked her hand behind the slope of his shoulder, braced his own, conjoined, at the crux of her capitellum and humeroulnar joint for an over-extension that swears worse for his mercy's limitations.

" are you afraid to lose ? " defeat, for most, was a set-back, perhaps, but nothing so obtuse they'd not recover. they'd shake it off. let several missions patch up their pride. but her.. " the more you fight it, the worse it will be. "

[riphalos]

slit-narrow pupils trace the crowd below, lingering on faces even from this distance. even when they all blur together within the cacophony of memories that can crush them all the same. but faces have always been masks he's had to dissect to discern. either that or accept and ignore — the more common practice when smiles mean nothing kind, when adoration glosses a dull, hollow shine in the eyes that watch and watch and watch and watch. the bluster below will be stamped quiet, like it always is, but he lingers all the same at that jut of ledge. lingers and observes, but not solely upon the crowd no matter the rising heat swarming between building bodies.

unrest had shifted enough within the air, tilted his head just a sliver toward the partner they've assigned him. suggested, more like, but he'd allowed it. she's a vague curiosity that has proven herself enough to draw his recognition, slight though it is. there is something in the scene she has glimpsed before, known firsthand. not uncommon when riots have been pushing back more frequent, spurred hot beneath the pressure of war's tight tension, but… this seems personal. even the distance she's put between them speaks where she does not.

"perhaps." languid and unhurried, sephiroth turns only enough to regard her within a stare always cutting itself stern, sharp through the space it carves into like masamune's ruthless steel. even when there is a curiosity born genuine in the way it considers her face, the mako flushed pale in her eyes.

"you've lived this before." a weight leans here in a question that falls blunt like a statement, subtle and brief before he continues. the slight cant of his head shimmers a shine down so much silver. "does it bother you?"

[thruteeth]

for better or worse, she doesn't get far. can't run from a question and the observation that fuels it. the struck match that sears at already tucked edges, attempting to fold further. hide themselves out of sight. lightning is thirteen again, her sister far from her side, and the shred of gunfire does little to alter a carefully narrowed gaze. without context he can't pry further. good. there'd never been anything at the bottom of that corpse pile to begin with.

" should it ? " a whole lifetime ago. be it the weight of the sword on her hip or, perhaps, the otherness of her company, this all feels.. trivial. a tower of what-if's and shoddy memories she can't be sure are accurate. " there's nothing special about what happened then, and there's nothing special about what's happening down there. " off where she's nodded, a mother has gathered her children and hurried them from the crowd.. there's a drunkard stoking the fire, his shouts stretching upwards for an echo she doesn't bother focusing in on. " you act like you've never seen it before. "

he's of a breed who moves when he chooses. not because she's nodded towards their heading. not because some distant sycophant had wooed him off his pedestal long enough to do their dirty work. so his idling turns into hers. his perch approached. his view shared by steadier eyes than before and a thin-lipped expression that offers little. lightning recognizes more than one of them. time hasn't been kind. when had it ever ? " no one ever learns from their mistakes. "

not even you ?

fingers tease the hilt of her sword, playing for want to draw it, bright eyes at a corner that seat sephiroth comfortably in peripherals, " does it bother you ? "

no. nothing ever bothered him. aloof or merely disenchanted, the people down there, toiling in poverty, scraping together what both is and isn't a life — she imagined he saw it like a flea circus. curious, but inconsequential. he'll forget about it come nightfall and, in the morning, if they yet lived, he, like herself, would be none the wiser. solace enough to take in that, at least. " if they see you, things may get complicated. come on. " there were no white knights coming to save anyone today.

[thruteeth]

Q. " what do you make of this ? "

it's a trick question. he asks, she idles, and the topic grows more stale by the second. hers isn't an opinion he seeks because his own is lacking. she's met the shine of feline eyes and turned away with the mild disregard of someone too tired to play the game. can shrug free of his expectations unlike most.. not rise to the needling of a man with too much and not enough to do. " looks like it's below your pay grade. "

it looked like the start of a riot that wouldn't end well for civilians clustered together, arguing with armed guards and itchy trigger fingers. " missions further north. " away from this sector and the memories that say she should have a steeper regard than she does. her, a tag along, lightning is four paces out from the ledge he looms over before she's stopped to glance back. trace the cut of broad shoulders.. pale hair whipped with all the fanfare of the long, sweeping duster beneath it. @riphalos is amused. a cat watching the mice skitter in the other room, unaware that something so much larger than themselves is waiting to see an outcome already predetermined.

" what does it matter ? " maybe she knows. maybe she'd stared overlong at a familiar crown of hair.. wore recognition on her shell and allowed a predator to catch a whiff. this isn't her home, but a transplant can still harbor roots. it can toy with attachment and suffer the chains that comes with that. " they either fall in line or they don't. " the latter is what hangs in the air. a swaying noose to fit a dozen necks. some day, their hands would help fit it... but today isn't that day.

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FOR SILENT ACTIONS THAT SAY A LOT *  i wrote these with the implication that the sender doesn't say a word before they perform the action. adjust as necessary, send 'reverse' for the reversal of the prompt

[ tug ] sender tugs receiver behind them during a tense moment

[ pull ] sender pulls receiver out of harm's way at the last second

[ tuck ] sender stares at receiver and quietly reaches up, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind receiver's ear

[ yank ] sender yanks receiver closer to them, ending up in semi-suggestive close proximity

[ steady ] sender grabs receiver's arm to steady them before they fall over

[ walk ] sender moves around receiver and walks closest to the street as they travel down the sidewalk, keeping receiver away from any potential danger in the roadway

[ untied ] sender drops to their knee and starts tying receiver's shoe for them

[ spoon ] sender lifts a spoon towards receiver's mouth, encouraging them to eat

[ trace ] sender traces receiver's lips with their thumb

[ pin ] sender pins receiver to a tucked-away spot in the shadows to avoid being caught

[ neck ] without a word, sender dips down to receiver's throat and kisses them soundly

[ handheld ] sender slips a hand behind their back and grabs receiver's fingers as they stand behind them

[ carry ] without asking, sender takes receiver's heavy bags from them and carries them

[ lock ] sender and receiver lock eyes across the room

[ drink ] sender brings receiver a drink and holds it to their lips, insisting they take a drink

[ reload ] sender reloads receiver's gun for them in the middle of a fight

[ shelter ] sender uses their body to shelter receiver from an explosion or attack

[ carry ] sender picks up receiver and carries them off the battlefield and into a safe spot before running back to the fight

[ toss ] from a secret hiding spot only receiver and sender can see as they avoid an enemy, sender silently gestures to receiver to toss them (their gun, something valuable, etc.)

[ stairs ] sender offers out a hand to help receiver ascend or descend a staircase

[ cover ] sender covers receiver's eyes so they don't witness something gruesome

[ fix ] sender comes up to receiver and fixes their collar and/or tie

[ shake ] to convince receiver not to do something, sender hastily shakes their head from a distance

[ watch ] from a distance, sender taps on their watch to show receiver they're running out of time

[ i'll go ] sender gently pushes receiver back, taking charge and insisting they will handle the dangerous task

[ reach ] through a locked gate, sender reaches for receiver's hand

[ ship ] as receiver's ship takes off from the planet, sender waves to them from the ground and watches them leave

[ protect ] after someone threatens receiver, sender rushes over and gets right in their face to protect them

[ punch ] after someone attacks receiver, sender rushes over and punches them in retaliation

[ nip ] sender playfully nips at receiver's neck

[ knuckles ] sender kisses receiver's knuckles in a polite gesture

[ squeeze ] sender gives receiver's butt a playful squeeze from behind

[ danger ] as an all-powerful receiver is about to lose control of their powers and cause massive damage, sender finds their eyes and tries to talk them down

[ goodbye ] without saying a word, sender approaches receiver and kisses them goodbye

[ wipe ] sender wipes a tear from receiver's face

[ location ] without saying anything and giving away the surprise, sender takes receiver to a secret spot

[ hold back ] sender has to hold back receiver from attacking someone

[ game ] sender lets receiver win a game they're playing

[ shower ] sender joins receiver in the shower they're taking