[tormentedties]

@tormentedties ; an indie, highly selective multi muse blog featuring Leon S. Kennedy from capcons Resident Evil. Also featuring portrayals from Baldur’s Gate 3, Overwatch, Final Fantasy 7 remake and more! Adored and penned by Dead! [they/them, 25 gmt+1] MINORS AND PERSONALS DNI. The owner of this blog is against the use of AI in creative spaces, DNI interact if those are present in your blog. Icons used in replies made by @unhalloweds

Important links: muse list , rules , muse doc (forever a WIP),

Other links: memes/prompts template credit

Walking a broken path with: @unhalloweds

[vvcsker]

@tormentedties || Rookie Leon

The downstairs room was filled with balloons and banners, welcoming the new recruit to the team of the R.P.D. Leon S. Kennedy, some youthful kid that had high hopes of working in Raccoon City. A new face meant Wesker had to be certain to gather as much intel as possible on them, so they wouldn't butt heads, but also so no newbies would fall prey to suspicion.

Thankfully, the S.T.A.R.S. unit were on a different level, and their work was higher profile than those at the bottom. But any cop shouldn't be entirely underestimated. His teams were filled with those who had expertise in combat, or something he could use, whereas Leon was just a simple kid wanting to do good for the community. Shame that he'd be stuck with all the bullshit jobs they'd give him, like getting coffee mugs filled and paperwork filed away. It was always the way, the newbies getting shit on until they proved themselves.

At least for Umbrella, their competitiveness had been a healthy rivalry of scientific endeavours and wit, not beating on their own chests like common apes.

Either way, Albert had made his way downstairs to show his face for five minutes so everyone could claim he'd at least showed up.

"Captain Albert Wesker," he introduced himself, offering his hand. "I lead the Special Tactics and Rescue Service." In his other hand, he was nursing a black coffee. "Welcome to Raccoon's Police Department. You'll fit right in, and the boys here are... generally behaved."

[tormentedties]

The day that Leon awaited eagerly finally arrived, his assignment to the RPD after graduating top of his class in the Police Academy. Raccoon city felt like a place that he could make a difference, the key goal to be achieved when he originally set out for his career path. Now, he had nothing to lose just the day prior he had broken up with his girlfriend, spending the night in some shoddy motel and drinking his sorrows away.

Going in for his first day with a hangover may not have been the best of looks, although the rookie at least managed to cover it up decently well — at least he assumed, given the lack of commentary. Though everyone seemed to be preoccupied with the warmest welcome that Leon could ever recall receiving. Everything from the banner, down to the consideration of options of preferences when it came to something to drink. Marvin seemed to lead the charge, and Leon felt a bubble of appreciation settle in his chest.

All in all, it angled itself to be a good first day, regardless of the tasks they would have him settle into. He’d already met most of the members of the force, from lieutenants down to the training officer that he would be working closely with. Regardless of the work that they would assign him, Leon’s excitement to jump in persisted.

Footsteps caused the band to snap in their direction, sapphire orbs scanning over the man who had descended from upstairs. The man was taller than him, with an air of authority that curled around his figure, forming a slight bubble of nervousness in the pits of his chest that Leon shoved down. With a sheepish smile, he took the outstretched hand before engaging in a firm handshake. “Leon Kennedy, Sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you — I’ve heard of the S.T.A.R.S, you’ve accomplished some feats.” He spoke, nodding softly. “Thank you. Everyone seems alright from our first introduction.”

[mcflymemes]

send me a 🔥 and i'll tell you one thing my muse finds attractive about yours

[devilshowdy]

and wasn't it gonna be a shock to the doc to find that dangerous ol' outlaw on her own? shameful, really. at least to ashe. she's been hiding this secret for weeks, in light of keeping bounty hunters from hearing how much of a target she'd become. without deadlock, ashe is vulnerable. something she isn't good at being. smile comes at the words, but she reveals a wound she's been holding together just on the lower right side of her torso.

typically she'd handle it herself, though bob had already sent out the distress call to angela. " . . . sorry, kitten. the big guy was worried. it ain't- ain't as bad as it looks." blood stained her shirt, yet those cherry red lips kept tugged upward. she knew it'd be a conversation, the lack of gang in the deadlock gorge. figured maybe get ahead of it. particularly if she was about to go through the exhaustion of stitches. "kinda' surprised y'showed up, was about t'grab the first-aid. you know, i'm pretty skilled in patching folks up." wasn't so easy on herself, and yet tough as nails she knows for a fact she woulda' pulled through.

"ain't got so much backup these days." the faux smile finally fizzling away. "and reckon i won't for some time" for good a pause as her eyes drifted to a spot on the floor. the saloon where she'd made her new house of operations was covered in stray bullet holes and empty whiskey bottles. it looked bad, and truth be told ashe is a embarrassed letting herself be seen this way. "it'd be a helluva favor if you kept it as uh . . . our little secret how empty this place is, might save me a few more scrapes like this one." a quite serious request. ashe wasn't a fan of killing folks. and she sure as hell wasn't a fan of being swarmed by bounty hunters and law alike. and they'd swarm hard and fast the moment they found out.

before mercy could touch the wound ashe would grab her by the wrist and capture her gaze. "i'm gonna need a stern promise on that one, doc."

[tormentedties]

Thin brows creased themselves as she stared at the outlaw, the wound that B.O.B had all but dragged her to come tend to, concern pressed against her features as she set her belongings down and began to rummage through her supplies. Wounds from bullets were ones that she had tended to one too many times; from providing care to Overwatch agents, to civilians caught in crossfires, an old tale she never got used to, especially with those she had a connection with.

Though there was no room for her own feelings on the matter, the worry that crowded over her mind — the first matter of business was ensuring its extraction, thankful that she thought ahead of time to pack antibiotics as an insurance for all the things that could have come up. The nanotech she invented would surely come in handy here, yet even with all the knowledge she possessed the one piece of the puzzle neglected the medic. 

What happened?

The last she heard, Ashe led the Deadlocke gang, a bunch of criminals who were her family. Where had they gone? Why was she alone, with only B.O.B by her side? The scene felt off, as though secrecy lurked within every corner. The information she wanted wouldn’t aid her in her job, but it would soothe the anxiety in her chest, one that she forced down in exchange for her own focus.

“Nonsense. Any gunshot wound is serious — but I’m glad that you’re able to keep up your sense of humour.” She uttered before giving the brief shake of her head. Despite the fact she devoted her life to the treatment of others, ensuring that every person maintained the right to medical care, those she cared for would always have her rushing to their aid. “Is it truly that surprising? And first aid won’t be enough for this, not with the risk of infection, and depending on the bullet type, how deep it’s gone… there’s far too many risks. I’m thankful that the big guy did come and get me.” Her voice rang out softly, a soothing balm for the situation as she knelt beside the blonde. 

With a quiet exhale she laid out all of the supplies, only for digits wrapped around her wrist prying her attention from the descent of the tirade of thoughts. “I promise it stays between us. But, what happened with Deadlocke? Last I was here, you all were filling this place…” now Ashe was alone, bottles around every corner that orbs could locate. Angela knew that her work with Overwatch, as well as the personal artifacts of her research and tasks to aid as many as she could, took up most of her time but had it truly been that long?

Yes.

After giving the firm promise she carefully detached the hand on her wrist, before setting to work. It began with the simple placement of the IV antibiotics, hanging them before rolling the shirt up enough to grant access. With a quiet pull of air from her lungs, she began to get to work, extracting the bullet. It could have been much worse, and by no means were they where the medic would prefer to be for something like this, but that didn’t stop her, numbing the area. Once it had been extracted, she cleaned out the wound before stitching it up, finally applying gauze around her torso after changing from blood soaked gloves to clean ones. 

“I’ll prescribe you a follow up course, but until you finish them it’s advisable you refrain from drinking as it can worsen the side effects. That, and alcohol will delay the healing process. I’ll make you something to eat, in the meantime why don’t you tell me exactly what happened here?”

[diedindulvey]

"I want out, but you can't give that." It's said flippantly; no faith at all. This isn't conditioning; Ethan knows he'll escape eventually. He's just sure that he's gonna have to be the one to figure out how for it to happen. "But you can give me something to do for a while." Also said flippantly.

Life is boring for the most part. Tests. Training. More tests. Sometimes he's made to gather intel- a nice euphemism for eating people and then recording whatever data the Connections want as quickly as possible. They're lucky losing two fingers has only made him drop from an extremely fast typist to a very fast typist. And that he doesn't give much of a shit about typos. Gathering intel is rare, though. Ethan is an unreliable narrator, and that's when they can actually motivate him to behave for the process in the first place. He's not a fan.

Looking at Kháos, part of him is curious if he can infect the other man. See what's in that head. See how long it takes the mold to go through the digestive process. If he can learn anything that'll help him escape.

Ethan runs a hand through his hair and sighs. He doesn't actually want to know. "You're funny, you know? Great quality for a best friend to have. Like right now: go off all you want about me being a lab sample, but at least I'm not peacocking. You look like a freak- like you're about to whip out some runes and a black light on some poor girl in a club. If the club is a shady worldwide organization. Which kinda makes me feel like the girl. You're negging me, aren't you?"

[tormentedties]

God.

Did this man ever know when to shut the fuck up?

The seams of his own irritation began to quietly thrum, a loud plea to burst the longer sound exited his lips. How the Connections continued to deal with the intrusive noise from the other man, Kháos couldn’t piece together. His objective had been relatively simple, a tune he had played too many times to count, and dealing with the blonde had not been on the agenda. “Unlike you, I’m not some plaything. Giving you something to do isn’t on my list of priorities. And for a mutt that wants out, you’re certainly doing little to obtain that desire. Maybe there’s a sick part of yourself that derives enjoyment from your predicament. It explains why you’re bitching so much and dragging your feet.” 

The click of a daggered tongue echoed through the facility, a hand snaking down towards the sheath of his knife as he took quick paced steps forward. He’d wasted too much time with the dead man walking, and the whole exchange had long become tiring. Killing him sounded satisfactory, though with what he knew about the subject it was near impossible. Something to look into at a later date, when things weren’t as jarring as they presented themselves now. Scarred fingers gripped at the man’s shoulders, shoving him back before the tactical knife in his possession came to slice at the flesh, mismatched eyes narrowed as stared at him.

There would always be a deep satisfaction in the harm he could produce on another person, regardless of the state of permanency. “You act as though you have a foot to stand on, when you’re nothing but a lab rat. Prime for every scientist that litters this place to keep on using you as the tool you are. If you wish to compare a mask to the abomination of your existence, that’s your agenda. But don’t act as though I’m the freak when you are nothing but a sample. A toy to be messed with until your use expires. If you truly wish to be aided, make shit interesting or go back to rotting in the filth of your own existence.” 

“Negging you? As if you’re worth the effort.”

[roleplaymmemes]

Dress up my muse by submitting outfits into my inbox and my muse will tell you how they feel about the outfit you chose

[tormentedties]

Okay I’ve gone through my drafts and added some initial thoughts after not touching them for a while. Imma take a nap and then start to get to work

[naughtyandnicerpmemes]

ANONYMOUSLY TELL ME YOUR HONEST OPINION ABOUT ME. I CAN’T REPLY/COMMENT, JUST PUBLISH.

[tormentedties]

Was going to try and get some stuff done tonight but I’ve been hit with a sudden bout of tiredness so I think imma just get my Duolingo done and take a nap — I’d say go to sleep but it’s like 10:12pm and heading to bed this early for me is likely gonna have me awake in a few hours

[unhalloweds]

ᴄᴏɴꜰɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪᴀʟ ᴅᴏᴄᴜᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ. . .

@tormentedties with [23.] desperately grinding on them through layers of clothing. Re2 Leon, Re8 Chris — I mean who said that-

Well, this wasn’t ideal.

The elevator cut itself not thirty seconds into their ascension. He figured, given the building they were in and the people they were tracking down. His company was a rookie from RPD; a few months ago, Chris had ventured to the department with a few members of the BSAA to help train a select number of the staff. Ones that seemed competent, skilled— and who better than the one that was allegedly top of his class coming out of the academy?

Leon Kennedy. The guy with a mouth too fucking snarky and an inexperienced hesitation that would get them both fucking killed if Chris hadn’t been as experienced as he was. Seasoned and professional, up until this point. 

There was nowhere for them to immediately go; the shaft was too high up and even if Chris threw Leon to see where they’d been stuck, there was no telling if they’d be able to reach any doors. The only hope he had right now was the work of his radio device. 

Which— backup was requested and their ETA was not timely by any means. 

From the moment Chris met Leon, he could tell there was something different about him. Not in the typical sense; not physically or anything mundane— there was such a spark in him that reminded Chris of himself. And whether Chris wanted to admit it or not, he wasn’t awful company. In fact, Chris had come to enjoy the stupid quips that forced him to keep his stoicism intact before he’d turn to let a flash of a smile to grace his lips. 

And in turn, Chris wasn’t dense. There was a certain way that Leon looked at him all through their training that he’d have to have been blind to not see. The way Leon had run off after their first spar together was telling enough.

For them to land here, in the elevator together, was merely a snap to the tension. The timing was awful and Chris was smarter than this; the bulk of his thigh was pressed between the divide of Leon’s legs, both arms pinning the man under either arm with effort that could’ve lifted him from the ground if he’d wanted. Warm lips crawled over the elongation of Leon’s throat, idle in their wake as he focused on the strained length pressing into the muscle of his leg, rutting as if a faster movement would help either of their predicaments. 

“We gotta stop,” Chris all but panted against the velveteen flesh, a flare to his nostrils expelling a push of air that was meant to be grounding. “Backup should be here soon and this is the last position we need to be caught in. Not to mention every threat that could find a way in here.” But nothing in him pulled away as he murmured his own concerns, a voice of reason that should’ve had his body contesting the explosion of tension between them. 

[tormentedties]

Meeting Chris had been an experience, that much had been evident to the rookie. Landing in Raccoon City, the last thing he had expected was for the BSSA to arrive at their front door, let alone garnish the opportunity to work closely with them — with Chris — not when (in his opinion) there had been others that were more experienced, more qualified for the role.

Not that Leon was going to turn it down.

It had been the exact thing that he set out to do when he chose his career path; a chance to make a difference, do some good in the world in the same fashion that the cop who had outstretched a hand from a cop had been the reason for his survival. From patrolling the streets to helping an organization against bioterrorism hadn’t been the predicted plan, but Leon found himself eager nonetheless. Another unpredicted measure, however, came in the form of the intrigue towards Chris that had sparked upon their first meeting, or the way that intrigue transformed into attraction. 

Seasoned, skillful, wrapped in the stoicism of a man who’s seen all the horrors of the world and still decided to push forward. The care that he held for his teammates was admirable, and that attraction ran him down unfortunate paths, such as their first time sparring together where the rookie ran off as soon as it was over. Embarrassing, though only mildly in comparison to why. 

The band of tension wasn’t one that he foresaw snapping the way it had in the entrapment of their current predicament, caught between the wall of the elevator whilst rocking his hips against a well-toned thigh all in the desperate search of friction he had been freely offered, short gasps pulling from his chest as sapphire pools lidded over, his head cocking to the side to allow Chris more access to his throat. Nothing about this was smart — he knew that. He knew there were people coming to rescue them from the box that stopped its ascent, but it didn’t stop every greedy search, everything he happily took from the offering. 

Leon forced his eyes open, trailing along the built form against him and set his focus on the strain present in the other’s pants, giving pinned down arms a loose tug in an attempt to free himself so hands could traverse exactly where he wanted them. “Don’t act like that’s what you want, your body is sending a different message.” He breathed out, rolling his hips against him with a muted groan paired with the action. With another pull he set one of his hands free, running down a muscled chest before his fingers grazed over the growing arousal in the agent's pants, watching all too intently as he breathed out.  “Maybe. Or maybe dropping outta that measured control you’ve got on yourself is exactly what you need. You ain’t made no effort to retract yourself.. backup ain’t arriving for a while, we’re stuck here.”

Perhaps it was a selfish decree, though if it hadn’t been for the lack of Chris’ actions to strip themselves away from each other, Leon wouldn’t have taken the stance he did. But the temptation laid itself out bare for him, and his thoughts were placed more with one head than the other. 

[rpmemegraveyard]

The 'yes or no' game.

Send my muse "❓+" alongside harsh hitting questions, scenarios, anything question-related really, but they can only answer with "yes" or "no". Nothing more, nothing less.

[collectionofvoices]

They don’t own you. You are a person. You’ve just got to find your footing. 

“Have you, bloodkin? Found your footing?” Perhaps it is cruel to bring up but Orin has never cared about cruelties. She is making a point – what if she never finds her footing? Her purpose? Where does she go from here? They both know she will never be a normal woman, she is far too twisted and sadistic for that. 

She has agreed to help them, if only out of revenge for herself, but after that? Where will she go? What will she do? Already she craves to make art out of viscera, she craves to spill blood and lick the metallic from her blade. She itches to carve the organs from flesh – she will never be a normal being. 

“Now I wish to see him dead.” What sweet revenge it would be, to tear the lord of Murder from his throne. He is a God, but even Gods can be dethroned, can they not? He deserves to pay for what he has done to her. Perhaps she will die in the process but that is alright with her, she has no real desire to stay alive with no purpose. Maybe her purpose is to die. 

Only time will tell as everything is so fresh and raw. None of them know what is next for her. First things first, she did agree to take down the little tyrant and help rid them of the pesky tadpoles, at the very least.  

“I wish to knock him off his throne and make him suffer. Until I do that, you will have my aid, but careful blood kin, I am not afraid to leave you and your pathetic friends to deal with everything on your own – with the stone in my possession. Should they try to slaughter me, I will no longer be of help to you.” 

[tormentedties]

The question felt akin to a cold blade pressed against a scarred throat, ready to slice at muscle and tendons as his gaze found itself lingering over towards the changeling with a soft hum. Once he had found the footing he told her she would find, though now he’d been thrown face first into the wreckage, stripped apart from the ownership of his soul and the God that created him. His feelings were chaotic, mixed to a degree he knew shouldn’t have existed, and coincided with anger that choked him. 

But despite it all, it was possible. Nym-yraen was living proof of the concept, no matter the waves he travelled down as he attempted to process it all or the empty silence being removed from what he had come to know left him with a twisted sense of unease where there should be relief at the fraying of his foundations. The drow forced air out of his lungs, tilting his head upward and staring at the specks glittering in the sky. 

“I don’t entirely know. I’ve had my soul ripped from my body, I should be lying dead on Father’s altar. Even before that I’ve spent months travelling with not a clue about who I was, this void trying to drown and pull me under… but, pieces introduced themselves. I am more than my Father’s son, the pieces of him that he moulded me from. My footing is questionable at best, what I do know is that he doesn’t get to define me anymore, and it’s a satisfaction that I refuse to give him.” If he was anything, it was a creature of intricate spite. Bhaal may have held him in his clutches for decades of his life, but that was a claim he no longer held. 

So why did he feel as though he lost apart of himself? As if pieces he didn’t want had been torn from him, abandoned? The whole affair left bile crawling up the depth of his throat, a contradicting statement to everything that he believed — felt about the whole affair. 

“You’re not the only one. There is… a lot to be felt about the whole ordeal. About him, the sickly grasp he’s had on us. His death would probably be the most satisfying thing to come out of all of this.” He agreed, as though there wasn’t much to say about the subject. In a sense there wasn’t — nothing that he had it within himself to vocalise at this time. Every feeling towards it remained a complicated mess, throwing him in a state of mourning and relief. Nym-yraen felt nothing about killing people, a piece that stuck that he could only attribute to his time in the Underdark, the lessons that stayed with him. Though it was nice to know they weren’t controlled by a pest tugging at his strings, not in the way it had been before. They were now his choices. Not the bidding of a God that never cared about him, and only saw him as a piece of property to own and conduct as they saw fit. 

Bhaal had fallen once before. And the Gods only knew how he craved to see it again in his lifetime. Perhaps he would. 

A scoff cradled the recesses of his throat, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth at the childish threat. “They won’t try anything, as long as you don’t present yourself as a threat. They’ve had me in their party for months, gone through the motions of decisions they may not entirely agree with on mine. I tried to kill one of them, and yet here we are.” Of course that whole event collided itself with metrics he found no will to want to think about, the person who had been the target of the depravity holding more meaning to the drow than he could ever consider before being thrown head first everything from the tadpoling to now, sat under the stars with a woman he had been all too eager to kill up until the moment the gears had shifted, leaving behind every thought that curled around the edges of a repaired mind. “There will be no need for you to walk. But, if you choose to do so and try to take the stone with you, I will hunt you down to the ends of the realm. That stone was mine before it was yours, there is very little claim that you have to it. I have just gotten to reclaim my life with my own decisions and choices at the forefront, and I refuse to let anyone try to turn me into a husk again.” Words soothed themselves as pointed daggers, every part as sharp as they had been serious. If it came down to it, so be it. His kindness, if you could even call it that, only extended so far. 

“I will make the necessary insurances where I can. But that relies on your willingness as well. Learning to move forward and live for yourself isn’t the easiest, but it is possible. No matter how lost you may feel. I can only help so much, you’ve got to put in the work yourself as well. No matter how much you might think they define you, they don’t. You define yourself.”

[tormentedties]

Knock, Knock, Knock…

❝ I'm not going to hurt you. I just need to see how bad it is. ❞ To Grace @govrnsword

Grace’s eyes lingered towards the man who took tentative steps in her direction, gloved palms splayed flat as though reducing the chance of a perceived threat to her wellbeing, or more so than she already found herself in. Whatever that creature was had embedded long talons into her skin, leaving grotesque claw marks running down the length of her leg at the attempt to force her back into their monstrous grasp.

It had been by her own quick thinking that she managed to get away, ducked in a room with buckets of blood, medical supplies and monitors that were used to show vital signs, jagged exhales pushing past lungs that felt as though they couldn’t reach enough air into them, a mind running a mile a minute with thoughts that scattered themselves against the base of her skull. Grace sat on the ground, back pressed against cabinets as she hastily applied pressure to the wound. Before Leon’s appearance she had been scanning the area for something to help her in her plight, though she guessed Leon couldn’t have had better timing.

“I was um… one of th.. those things grabbed me out there. I.. I managed to get myself free but… well. It wasn’t without issue..” She explained, casting her eyes down toward hands that covered themselves in her own blood. What was she going to do? The obvious answer layered itself in tending to the harm upon her form, but running if she needed to became a task that held more difficulty than she felt comfortable with. Shit. 

[tormentedties]

Working on everything but the bird calls so here’s your regularly scheduled break

[jamsmemes]

(     *     RESIDENT EVIL REQUIEM.

a selection of dialogue prompts from the game resident evil requiem. feel free to change pronouns / details as needed.

‘we found another body.’

‘perhaps it’s time for you to face the past? confront that fear head-on.’

‘i won’t force you to go, but do you think you can do this for me?’

‘there might be answers inside.’

‘why am i even here?’

‘you have been on that thing all day.’

‘we need to keep our voices down.’

‘tell me what’s going on.’

‘now is not the time. stay close.’

‘i’m calling the police!’

‘i’m so sorry. this is all my fault.’

‘i’m the one that brought you here.’

‘we have so much to do.’

‘you’ve got to be shitting me.’

‘don’t do anything stupid.’

‘someone help me!’

‘well, fuck. let’s make this quick.’

‘back to square one.’

‘we’re running out of time.’

‘you gotta stay calm.’

‘where the hell am i?’

‘don’t come any closer!’

‘what the hell was that thing?’

‘i’ll be fine. i hope.’

‘you can’t see, can you?’

‘why are you in there?’

‘who made a mess? why the mess?!’

‘what if i can’t get out?’

‘this might be useful.’

‘so loud… my head… keep it down!’

‘don’t fuck with me.’

‘it’s your fucking fault!’

‘give me a fucking break!’

‘you laughed at me!’

‘well, at least it’s easier to walk around now.’

‘come in. i won’t harm you.’

‘why did you kidnap me?’

‘it took forever to find you.’

‘you’re not like other people, you know. you’re quite… unique.’

‘there’s no escaping your destiny!’

‘did anyone hurt you?’

‘please, i really need your help.’

‘you handle this. i’ll handle… that.’

‘i thought that thing was dead!’

‘you’re an investigator, right? well, investigate.’

‘when was the last time you brushed your teeth?’

‘you are an ignorant fool.’

‘you’re a dead man walking!’

‘sorry, i was a little tied up.’

‘hope i’m not next.’

‘you felt that one, huh?’

‘sorry, but i’m not on the menu.’

‘you’re killing me.’

‘well, hey. at least we’re in it together, right?’

‘oh god, i really don’t wanna go in there.’

‘ugh, it got in my mouth…’

‘hold on tight!’

‘why’s it so loud?’

‘let’s play.’

‘here, i kept this safe for you.’

‘do you maybe… wanna leave with me?’

‘it’s not safe here.’

‘we need to keep moving, okay?’

‘it’s okay, we’re not infected.’

‘you don’t need to worry about me.’

‘are you lying to me?’

‘have you seen the same shit i’ve seen?!’

‘look, we’re out of options here.’

‘how much longer do you think any of us can survive?’

‘we can help each other.’

‘it’s a deal.’

‘found you.’

‘hello, gorgeous.’

‘i can’t stop the bleeding.’

‘hey, hey, look at me. we’re gonna be okay.’

‘i’m sorry. i know it hurts.’

‘i need to keep you safe.’

‘are you listening? i said stop!’

‘you feel lost, but you’re not. you’re exactly where you need to be.’

‘i’ve been waiting for you.’

‘i’ll just go it alone.’

‘we’re in this together. till the end.’

‘i’ve always been good at working in the shadows.’

‘just don’t do anything too risky, yeah?’

‘gonna have to find another way around.’

‘you’re a real pest, you know that?’

‘haven’t you had enough?’

‘looks like someone else was here first.’

‘guess the only way in is through then.’

‘looks like they left in a hurry.’

‘something’s missing.’

‘i’ll have to shoot it down.’

‘so the rumours were true.’

‘don’t be ridiculous.’

‘i thought i had a short fuse.’

‘don’t mind if i do.’

‘some things never change.’

‘watch your back.’

‘this is my lucky day.’

‘do you still think about what happened there?’

‘sorry. this isn’t the time, we need to focus.’

‘this day just keeps getting better and better.’

‘i don’t give up that easy.’

‘i’ve had enough of you!’

‘i know the feeling.’

‘should’ve worn a helmet.’

‘so many attempts. so many failures. such a waste.’

‘it’s past our bedtime.’

‘please just be a bad dream.’

‘what’s done is done. you need to focus on the future.’

‘i had a feeling you’d make an appearance.’

‘sorry, but i don’t have time to spare.’

‘i’m gonna do some digging.’

‘i guess this is my stop.’

‘this is one very deep hole.’

‘just so you know, i’ve killed every plant i ever had.’

‘i’m getting the feeling i’m not wanted around here.’

‘we finally meet.’

‘didn’t realise i had such a big fan. how about an autograph?’

‘worried about me? how sweet.’

‘sneaky bastard.’

‘coming from you, that’s quite the compliment.’

‘time to finally get some answers.’

‘don’t embarrass yourself. you can’t beat me.’

‘you still need me, right?’

‘me? feel like a million bucks.’

‘where does this take us?’

‘your guess is as good as mine.’

‘how long was i out?’

‘i couldn’t make a difference.’

‘i’m coming with you.’

‘i don’t want any more regrets.’

‘whatever it takes, count me in.’

‘if anything happens to me… you promise… you’ll end this.’

‘you think you can give me a boost?’

‘this is it. i did it.’

‘where have i seen this…?’

‘life takes unexpected turns, don’t you think?’

‘looking back, do you feel that the choices you’ve made have contributed to… your present circumstances?’

‘what you sow, you reap. isn’t that the natural order?’

‘what would you like the world to know?’

‘i’m not a young man. i don’t have the energy i once did.’

‘your body can’t take much more.’

‘i’m gonna settle this.’

‘haven’t changed much, have you?’

‘let’s get this over with.’

‘what kind of legacy do you want to leave behind?’

‘humans cannot predict when death will come for them. this is why they have hope.’

‘i was wrong… and i am plagued by guilt.’

‘happiness cannot be achieved at the expense of others.’

‘i think that’s enough for today.’

‘aren’t you beautiful?’

‘is there anything else you’d like to tell me?’

‘i’ve said my piece. i only hope it serves as a requiem for those who have passed.’

‘this is finally my chance to do something.’

‘please wake up. come on, wake up.’

‘i was just resting my eyes.’

‘let me help you.’

‘i don’t know the password.’

‘i can buy you some time.’

‘fulfill your destiny, and all will be forgiven.’

‘at least… i could save you.’

‘please know that you are my hope.’

‘there’s nothing special about me.’

‘do you know how much time and money i wasted on this?’

‘don’t you see the genius?’

‘your ignorance is staggering.’

‘it seems your skills have… diminished.’

‘sacrifices must be made! in the grand scheme of things, a few lives are nothing.’

‘give it up. it’s over.’

‘there’s no way out, is there?’

‘i’m not gonna leave your side.’

‘i guess this is it then.’

‘i feel better than i have in ages.’

‘thank god. i’m glad you’re okay.’

‘you’ll be back in action in no time.’

[unhalloweds]

The bloom of his bluff wasn’t one that he’d intended to slip under the surface; a notion that had been even more foreign to the elf, as the mastery of trickery and deceit were one of his stronger suits. It was what he’d been made to do, even prior to his death. Delivering such an expression doused with more layers of vulnerability only called for him to decorate with some type of his typical flair, charm, even– if he’d go as far to call it that in this moment. Extending his hand forward felt like the cementing of where his wording did land itself, no longer able to retrace his steps– though he knew that to not be true, either.

At least not with the drow, and perhaps that’d been why he’d extended the offer for more time. More company in something where it’d been equally versed. 

The rogue hummed as Nym-yraen resettled himself, a muted click of his tongue echoing itself with a ‘tsk’ between knife-like canines. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself now, dear. Perhaps I’ll take you up on the latter half of your reply sooner than later.” 

He wouldn’t– not when he’d opened the door enough to let someone just barely peak into it. 

“Besides, I wasn’t lying about your bedroll. You could be doing better. We travel through plenty of establishments for you to snatch a pillow or two. At least a blanket.” Astarion shook his head, ashen lips pursing with an expression akin to disapproval. Though, as his companion shuffled himself back into their prior positions, Astarion was quick to reclaim his space and find comfortability in the shared breaths– or lack of, on his behalf. 

Why had he asked him to stay?

It was a question he didn’t want to focus on just yet. He wasn’t entirely dense, just full of deniability. His best was reserved for the simple gain of others, not letting himself slip into the easy ploy of feelings– he barely wanted to even recognize that. What was occurring between them was, at its best, parasitic in nature. This was something that the elf was more than fine with– from the beginning. 

He hadn’t expected a seed of care to root itself somewhere within his cold, malicious core. There was no part of him that wanted it watered to flourish beyond what it’d become already. That didn’t stop the crimson glaze of his sights from trailing over the drow, an open inspection of the man’s features with a pique of curiosity to his own.

“You know, I can almost see the smoke billowing for your ears. Do you always think this much?” The elf posed with a quirk of his lips, “What’s on your mind, darling?” 

At best, it was something to move the attention of his mind from himself and the deconstruction of who he was. Shift the focus, and soon forget everything that he’d been festering over for the short moment that they’d allocated back to their prior domain. 

[tormentedties]

The crawl against his own skin that dictated his own discomfort was something that he assured himself he would never get used to, a persistent pest that made itself loudly known to him from invisible forces. Not from the arrangement that he found himself in, the hand that he absentmindedly cradled in loose affections, or the denial of the bud of care he’d begun to feel and bury deep within himself, but from his own unseen battles. Forbidden tides he refused to spill.

Nym-yraen wasn’t someone who sat idly in a tent with someone without a seed of something for his own gain, nor did he form bonds for the sake of it. But that’s exactly what he had been doing at this moment, and the drow wasn’t dense to it. He simply chose to neglect the line of thought, discard it as something he wasn’t capable of, as if it explained the reason he had given into the request given to him. 

No matter how much he tried to dissect it, he couldn’t peel back to see where the lines had changed. Where his own priority of having someone on his side, no matter the exchange, became something as tedious as a willingness to stay. Everyone proved themselves a tool, something to be used for his own advantage, and thrown away when they exceeded their usefulness. Astarion, in the beginning, had been exactly that. Until he wasn’t. 

Nym-yraen felt the twitch of painted lips upward at the ‘tsk’ from his companion, a glint of amusement settling in his eyes as his gaze turned from the intertwined hands over to the pale man, a playful roll of his duel-toned voids filling the space. “After I was kind enough to stay with you, only to be met with such cruelty.” He mused, mock offense lacing his features as he placed a hand over his own chest before allowing it to drop. Being kicked out so soon after the door had opened itself presented itself as unlikely in his own opinion, though a quiet part of himself found it almost favourable. 

At least then he wouldn’t feel as though he was drowning out of his depth in waves he couldn’t understand. The louder part of himself wanted to invade the space he had been invited into, to stay no matter how confused it left him at his core. 

“Fine, fine. The next establishment we venture into, I’ll be sure to steal some pillows and a blanket. Though I don’t really think much of it.” He shrugged. Rarely did he find the comfort of trancing, the times that he did were often interrupted by the horrors of his own mind, leaving him feeling worse for trying than when his eyes did finally lid over. 

A repetitive cycle that left him raw and exposed, even when no one picked up the signs of his own exhaustion. 

The question had been met with a quiet laugh, almost expected as the crimson gaze met his own. The calculation of observant minds always picked up the pieces neglected by the larger group, every bit impressive as it was irritating in its own right. The laugh replaced itself with a sigh, his free hand coming to thread through carefully styled and straightened locks. “Yes. My mind is never quiet.” He admitted, words that fell all too quiet for his own liking — not that he wasn’t mindful of the volume in which he spoke around the vampire. It had been habitual at this point, though it felt different somehow. As if it removed itself from the facade he put around everyone else, even the man in question. 

What’s on your mind? As if the question wasn’t a loaded one, an attempt to peek into the inner workings of himself. Nym-yraen had no idea where to even begin, filled with far too much wreckage to make a real attempt at unloading the thoughts if he chose to. The drow pushed out air from his lungs, shoulders rising before falling in a muted movement. “Everything and nothing. There is a lot that goes on, placing one thought above another isn’t without its difficulties.”

[tormentedties]

Okay gang I’m going to try and get to inboxes either tomorrow or Tuesday; I’m exhausted tonight so I leave with the one post I have queued up. And to those I owe a response to I promise I’ll get to it