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bitesbullet · 6 months

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&. 𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

( a mix of angst, fluff, and plot focused dialogue prompts in the form of questions. feel free to change how you seem fit. )

❛ what are you listening to? ❜

❛ can’t sleep? ❜

❛ how did you get this scar? ❜

❛ are you sure this is a good idea? ❜

❛ do you mind if i sleep here tonight? ❜

❛ what are you doing out here by yourself? ❜

❛ are you wearing my shirt? ❜

❛ don’t you know what you mean to me? ❜

❛ will i see you again? ❜

❛ are you comfortable? ❜

❛ are you trying to get us in trouble? ❜

❛ do you enjoy playing with people’s hearts? ❜

❛ don’t we deserve to be happy? ❜

❛ why can’t i come with you? ❜

❛ are you here to kill me? ❜

❛ you think i’m jealous? ❜

❛ do you want to share this? ❜

❛ is that blood? is it yours? ❜

❛ how do you know my name? ❜

❛ you’re an asshole, you know that? ❜

❛ like what you see? ❜

❛ was that your first kiss? ❜

❛ are you happy here with me? ❜

❛ sorry, did you want to be alone? ❜

❛ do you want my jacket? ❜

❛ how are you still alive? ❜

❛ you’re beautiful, you know that? ❜

❛ what are you so afraid of? ❜

❛ today isn’t your day, is it? ❜

❛ how does it feel to be in love? ❜

❛ you’ve been crying, what’s wrong? ❜

❛ do you remember when we first met? ❜

❛ isn’t this amazing? ❜

❛ did you miss me? ❜

❛ alright, who am i beating up? ❜

❛ that was a close call, wasn’t it? ❜

❛ am i worth so little to you? ❜

❛ how is it you’re never scared? ❜

❛ do you ever think about the future? ❜

❛ can you look at me? please? ❜

❛ you got me flowers? ❜

❛ well, how do i look? ❜

❛ what aren’t you telling me? ❜

❛ how about a kiss before i go? ❜

❛ you don’t know who i am, do you? ❜

❛ may i have this dance? ❜

❛ who’s going to stop us, huh? ❜

❛ wait, you’re leaving already? ❜

❛ it’s my fault, isn’t it? ❜

❛ have you ever lost someone? ❜

❛ do you think i’m a good person? ❜

❛ what are you thinking about? ❜

❛ is it really you? ❜

❛ what if i hurt you? ❜

❛ if you won’t take care of yourself, then who will? ❜

❛ have you come to laugh at me? ❜

❛ will you still look at me like you do now? ❜

#ː ⠀⠀ — where’s everyone going? bingo?#sentence starters #specify muse & relation please ! <3

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bitesbullet · 6 months

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Stiffness in the other’s stance faded the more trusting the words from the bystander seemed to be. One second , then another before the weight of the gun weighed heavy in the rookie’s hand, urging his arms to lower to his sides. Under different circumstances, Leon is left to wonder if his first day would be similar. Perhaps a tremble in his step, a crack in his voice in attempts to remain stern and carry out the authoritative composure. Nervous first day shivers, not scared shitless for his life and the other’s at stake. Shoulders slacked with a deep exhale following after, as well as an apologetic look. Firearm safely secured into the barely worn out holster that clung too loose around his waist to be considered experienced, and a ( still ) shaky hand held out to formally greet Loki .

“Leon Kennedy. Sorry about . . . all that , precautions and all . You’re one of few I’ve run into that aren’t — undead?” A pause, what the hell does he even call these things? Is he supposed to report this? Addressed to whom, from where? Is he even technically a cop? A future problem, Leon has a city to save. “ I'm not too sure what’s going on. I just got here— not long before you did I assume .” Yet enough to see Claire safe one more time, then see Bragh be turned to a mere flesh vessel. Dead after dead stacked atop another, groans and the rotting smell of iron practically contaminated every room. Glass shards and broken wooden coverings made it difficult to sneak past any creature that cried out in hunger or in pain . . . “I can help, I know most of my way around . We might want to get out of here though . ”

bitesbullet

The rookie had never seen anything like it. The grounds layered in blood, glass and the ones that managed to stay dead– but not for long. Imagine if he had made it on time for his first day, or managed to move into the city on the day he was originally supposed to show– it was a thought that seemed to be engraved into his brain. The question of what if? He could’ve saved them– any of them. This? Shouldn’t be real, hell, he must’ve been dreaming and suffering the consequences of blacking out drunk the night before his first day of work. However, no matter how many pinches he gave himself, he wasn’t getting out of this never ending nightmare.

Leon ran, ran through the flooded streets and pulled past greedy hands while the droplets of rain slid down his face. It was loud, groaning and car sirens were enough to be distracting to any confused bystander, one like himself. How long had this been happening? The whole city had gone to ruins, and no one was talking about it. Was it overnight? Though Leon continued his suspicions, more questions arose than went answered. The most prominent one being, what the hell happened? A question he was determined to answer by the end of the night, and he wasn’t the only one. Getting past the back door of the police station was only a small challenge of what was to come. Leon would have to fight his way through the back door despite aggressive hands and parted mouths waiting to consume him whole, tears and stains made their way at the fresh uniform he felt right by putting on just minutes ago. “This is not how I imagined breaking these in.”

Putting a bullet through what would’ve been his co-workers brains’ was never on the ‘Leon’s First Day To Do List’, but neither were the events that unfolded right before his eyes. He stared at the name tag of the limp body in front of him, gun slowly lowered to his side. Branagh. Lieutenant Marvin Branagh, the one who contacted Leon to stay away just a week before, the one who would’ve shown him the ropes, was dead. He shut his eyes, in a silent apology. “I’ll stop this Lieutenant, I promise.”

Within the uniform, Leon swore an oath, to himself and any survivors within the city, that he was going to save whoever was left from the undead’s clutches and find whoever was responsible, then give them hell. A deep breath, then his instincts took over. His gun raised to the direction of footsteps, then a voice. Leon took a second to process, letting his eyes sweep over the new alive presence. No bite marks, no blood and he looked a bit too clean; it raised his suspicions. No way is he going down without a fight. “Don’t come any closer. Identify yourself.”

This reaction did not come as a surprise. In fact, any other response would have been alarming. With his arms still raised, Loki paused several feet away, maintaining enough distance so as to not alarm the young man. And how young he was. First week? First month? How had he managed to remain unscathed? No matter, the resolve in those hands aiming the gun said it all: this rookie had seen more than enough death to last him a lifetime. A quick glance beside the man—there, a body, a bullet hole clean through the head. The unmistakable glint of an RPD badge on the chest, smeared with crimson blood. A pang shot through Loki’s chest.

“Name’s Loki,” he began, gaze returning to the young man. “Weird shit’s been happening to my people,” careful word choice there, “and the questions have led me here.”

Open honesty was the least he could offer. While the entire truth was carefully concealed, this was out of a respect for time and not out of malice: Gods knew that if Loki started rambling nonsense about sentient birds it would lead either to his demise or a volley of questions he didn’t have time to answer. In all other regards, however, he aimed to be truthful.

“Only just got here. Snuck around until I found a back entrance. I just wanna know what the fuck is going on and how it can be stopped.” Silence. Brief. The rain pattered on the windows above. Normally a solace, a relaxing rhythm, now only white noise to conceal the terror occurring outdoors. Washing away the blood, the tears, the remnants of humanity. “I don’t mean you any harm.“

#kingoftheravens #⠀ུ┊DSO’S FINEST .ᐟ #sorry i took so long </3

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bitesbullet · 2 years

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Plotted || @flashbngs

Two fingers pressed against the rough asphalt of the road. A street, previously devoid of even a singular passing car, now a deluge of empty vehicles: windows smashed in, metal crudely folded where cars collided, doors left wide open in a panic, and even some burning endlessly despite the ceaseless pattering rain. Here, the storm was overwhelmingly loud. Not because it fell so heavily—it was a drizzle, nothing more—but because it was the only consistent sound in a setting usually bustling with noise.

Upon withdrawing his fingers, the pads were slicked with blood and rain. Questions and some semblance of answers had led Loki here, the Arklay mountains, in search of more. Frankly, when Loki had agreed to investigate the oddities that were befalling some of his corvids, what he had anticipated was a bustling city, not a disaster. Not this brutal display of chaos, a scene from a post-apocalyptic film. How an entire city could fall, crumbling, into such disarray was beyond him. “Don’t venture in here yet,” he said, seemingly to no one at all. The air, maybe. The endless darkness of the sky shrouded by dark clouds and smoke. In reality, he had on an earpiece hidden by the unruly waves of his hair. He stood, studying the borders of the road with suspicion. “I don’t know what the fuck we’re walking into.” Whatever had occurred here, Loki had been too little too late to stop it. Whether he was too late to seek answers was another matter entirely. With care, he picked his way to the Raccoon City Police Department. A dark figure sneaking his way past looming buildings, emptied; through shadowy alleyways; skirting around human figures feasting on the dead. A side entrance to RPD gave him entry (via force, anyway). There, the empty halls, that persisting silence, overhead lights flickering. The entire police force wiped clean? The gravity of this situation was far greater than initially anticipated. Loki, at least, was not so stupid as to call attention to himself: there was no calling out of “hello”, no loud noises, nothing that would draw unwarranted attention to himself. It was easier said than done to navigate the never ending hallways of RPD. Perhaps in another universe, he would have paused to admire the architecture, the grand statues, the vaulted ceilings, their windows slicked with rain. Instead, the usual grandeur of the indoors had been crudely redecorated. Pools of blood turned into smears of abstract lines. The whole place reeked of death and decay, authenticated by the smattering of bodies he carefully stepped over. Most were shot, some were devoured, and in one hallway a cop swung by a homemade noose. Loki’s persistence in searching the building became less of a hopeful rescue venture and more of an investigation. Survivors seemed slim, if not impossible, but perhaps he could still find answers. That was until, finally, in the sweeping entrance hall of RPD, a human figure could be seen. The movements were certain, the stance assured, not the turbulent swaying of a zombie. A survivor in this mess? Unharmed? He looked young. A rookie, if Loki had to guess. “Hey, kid,” Loki spoke softly, both hands raised in mock surrender to show he meant no harm. A quick visual sweep of their surroundings only further bolstered what had been witnessed in the winding hallways: more death, more blood, death’s icy grip. “What the hell is going on?”

#⠀ུ┊DSO’S FINEST .ᐟ #kingoftheravens #a pleasure writing with ya always vicious :)

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