Multimuse featuring muses from Resident Evil and WTTG 2. Mun and Muses are 18+
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Me? Making an WTTG 2 blog even though the fandom is dead? It’s more likely than you think.
@albinismuncovered
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New Muse Test!
Like for Clint Edwards, an investigative reporter, reblog for Adam, a mysterious helper on the deep web!
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Very ooc, but I'm back on my bullshit in the Welcome to the Game fandom and looking for anyone to roleplay something in that universe with. Bonus points if Clint is involved.
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@ask-hws-kingsland
Albert Wesker held his side as he tore through the forest. His heart was in his throat and his lungs were at his feet. He gasped and wheezed for air as he ran. Even with the virus in his blood, he'd been running for 3 hours straight.
He finally stopped, leaning against a tree and taking a breather.
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Wesker dances beautifully. He follows Chris with absolute ease, simple as breathing. He squeezes Chris' hands and he finds that it's a little too easy to smile.
When Chris whispers in his ear, he swallows heavily before he speaks, as if to get down the crack in his voice that had a chance of showing should he not have committed to the action to destroy it.
"Then don't."
He takes the opportunity to lean down and kiss Chris. Slow and sweet.
Only this was somehow different.
It shouldn't, but it does. Somehow....it feels...genuine. Chris, against him. His hyper sensitivity rears it's head, making him feel....things.
He's getting hard.
Wesker jerked away from Chris as if he'd been burned. Eyes wide, hands running through his hair. It's not that obvious, god he hopes not at least, but it's still enough to make him run like hell.
He needs to get away from Chris.
shadessupreme:
“Indeed it was. I can remember it as if it were yesterday. It was the best day of my life. Marrying you after so, so long.” He leaned up and kissed him nice and slow, pressing his lips tenderly for a nice minute.
He huffed at Chris’ remark about embarrassing him. He had to force himself to not make a snide remark.
“Oh, darling. You could never embarrass me. Not maliciously. In fact, I find your actions cute, even if it’s embarrassing.” And he gave another sweet kiss to him.
“Of course you can, sweet pea. It’d be my pleasure. Shall we dance, then?”
He took his hands and stepped with him. He smiled at him, lovingly. Even made himself blush for accuracy.
An old, old part of him swoons at the warmth that colours Wesker’s face– at how pretty he is, with his high cheek bones and his pleasant smile. It’s not enough to throw Chris off-rhythm, and they move in time with the music that the orchestra plays, but it is enough for him to take in a short breath.
If his lips still tingle from those slow, affectionate kisses, Chris does his best not to show it. But in the most fucked up, humiliating way, the facsimile of being loved somehow lingers in his mind far more than all the times he’d sucked on Wesker’s tongue.
He lifts their joined hands, their fingertips brushing as he guides Wesker in a turn, and when they’re back in position, there’s a couple nearby that tells Chris he ought to make an effort again.
But then he leans in, murmuring quietly into Wesker’s ear that, “I can’t stop thinking about kissing you.”
And he realises it doesn’t take much effort at all.
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Chris' touch is revitalizing. He leans into it, eyes shining despite the immense pain. It helps him, in a way. Despite the world spinning, Chris grounds him.
"I- I'm sorry." He mumbled. He felt weak. He was weak. He was Albert Wesker, but here he is, pitiful and quivering. Awful. He should be better, push past the pain.
And then Chris is picking him up and everything was forgotten.
His hold is so secure, so gentle and yet firm at the same. It gives him hope, quiets the vice in his head telling him he's worthless.
There are no shades to obscure the gratitude in his red and blue eyes as he stares up at Chris.
"I- Yeah."
It comes out as a mumble before Wesker is resting his head against Chris' shoulder. It's a struggle to keep his eyes open. Truthfully, he only manages because he doesn't want to worry Chris.
shadessupreme:
“Chris- oh God, Chris-”
He blinked furiously. He was dehydrated, enough so that he could barely cry, only have his eyes water as they burned, bloodshot.
He swallowed dryly, despite how much it hurt. He’s shaking as he leans into the other’s touch, closing his eyes with a soft, relieved sigh.
“I- I didn’t think- I thought I was-” he stammered out. He shook even harder.
“I’m sorry.”
He reached out for Chris, trying to pull himself upright even as his arms shook from the action. Attempting to stand on his mutilated feet garnered a cry as he staggered, falling onto his back. They’d really done a number on them. Smashed the bones in his feet to shards, two misshapen, multi colored lumps.
“Shit! Shit, shit, shit! Fuck!” He tried to curl his toes, but couldn’t, not with all of them.
Chris’ eyes widen in alarm as Wesker tries to move, his hands coming to hold him steady as he guides him back down onto the floor. “Whoa, captain, you shouldn’t be getting up!” That attempt to stand had been messy at least, and the way that Wesker swears– so different from the calm and collected man that Chris worked with, so very obviously in pain– has his stomach twisting with guilt at not coming here sooner.
“It’s okay,” Chris says, one hand coming to touch Wesker’s face as he guides him to tilt his head up towards him. “Look at me. You’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna take you home.
“But you can’t walk like that.” It isn’t judgement as much as it is a state of fact. “Right? So just… let me take care of you, captain.” He offers a smile, and hopefully the worry in his eyes doesn’t show as clearly as he feels it. “I got you.”
With that, Chris’ arms come beneath him, lifting Wesker up in a bridal carry that has his head tucked against his shoulder. Any other time, any other place, and maybe this would be embarrassing, but for the moment all Chris can think is that he has to make sure his captain’s somewhere safe.
“Okay?” he asks, tilting his head down to meet Wesker’s gaze. “Let’s get you out of here, yeah?”
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Wesker looked from Krauser's face to his arm. Oh. That was odd. It appeared fully healed. How strange.
"May I?" He asked quietly, reaching out to gently take Jack's hand. The motion is not lost on Wesker for how sensual it was. But that wasn't it.
"Think nothing of it. I'm fine. I'm more concerned about you. Are you alright? You didn't inject yourself with our prototype of Uroboros, did you? We're still working on it."
shadessupreme:
Wesker couldn’t sleep.
He sighed quietly, running a hand over his face, through his impeccable hair. A few strands came with it. He sighed as he flicked them away. Stress. It made him lose hairs when he was feeling particularly overwhelmed.
So, here he was, walking without a particular destination in mind. His hands going back to his pockets to slip inside. It wasn’t like he needed the warmth, what with his fingerless gloves, but it was a sort of comforting mechanism.
His fingers felt around in the inside of his black trenchcoat. Slipping over the knife that was always there in one, and the firearm in the other.
He caught sight of one of his new employees. Jack, Jack Krauser. Only something was off. His arm. It looked like he was holding it.
Concern filled Wesker, and curiousity. Had Jack gotten injured? He went to the bathroom Jack ducked into, knocking on the door.
“Krauser?”
“Boss?…” Krauser blinked, looking back at his tall employer, letting out a soft noise. “I’m… Not sure what’s going on, tonight…” he admitted. His arm was healed… Completely. Not a mark of the old scar…
“Hmmm… My scar is gone…” he remarked, looking back at Wesker. “Completely… Just…” He sounded insane. His whole reason for faking his death, for wandering to find Wesker, and it was healed.
“I’m sorry if I woke you, sir… I think I’m just… Having a bit of a hard night..”
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Albert chuckled. He took a sip of his tea first before forcing himself to take just a little bit of the cookies. He had a massive sweet tooth. So high it was actually kind of insane.
"You're honestly closer than you'd think to the truth. I was mauled by an....animal of sorts. Multiple animals in fact, to be accurate."
He paused.
"I'm a...police officer of sorts. Got called out due to a case of wild animals."
@elizabeth-reid-rp-blog
To say Albert Wesker had a lot on his mind would have been an understatement.
Having just come back to life and escaped the manor before it exploded, Wesker had been on the run for a while. Now, he was tired, hungry and relatively sure he was in shock from what happened.
So, he went to most places people go to when they’re having trouble.
Entering the bar, Wesker looked like, and smelled like death. Still in his blood stained STARS uniform, he made his way for the bartender. He took his time, refusing to shamble even though it definitely would have been easier for him.
“One scotch.”
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“Why the hell are you people talking about pumpkin fucking?”
“It’s not even October yet.”
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Krauser had been working late all night last night, to the point of exhaustion. Finally, finally he had pulled through and finished what he was working on, before collapsing, sighing as he curled up into his hard bed.
It was just a constant struggle against his own insecurities... If he was good enough... Of course, he knew he never would be... Not with his mangled arm. He would never even be of use to Wesker, his newest employer. He sighed to himself, muttering under his breath. "I wish my arm wasn't so fucked... Maybe I would be good for something again..."
The pain he usually felt, the dull throb in his bicep suddenly disappeared, blinking softly as he noticed the instant relief. Strange... Carefully, he felt along his arm in the dark. No scar, no hole... No nothing... "What the fuck?..." he muttered, getting up out of his bed and heading to the bathroom down the hall, rushing to the mirror. There was... Nothing. No mark, no anything. He blinked, eyes wide. "How the hell..."
@ex-socom
Wesker couldn’t sleep.
He sighed quietly, running a hand over his face, through his impeccable hair. A few strands came with it. He sighed as he flicked them away. Stress. It made him lose hairs when he was feeling particularly overwhelmed.
So, here he was, walking without a particular destination in mind. His hands going back to his pockets to slip inside. It wasn’t like he needed the warmth, what with his fingerless gloves, but it was a sort of comforting mechanism.
His fingers felt around in the inside of his black trenchcoat. Slipping over the knife that was always there in one, and the firearm in the other.
He caught sight of one of his new employees. Jack, Jack Krauser. Only something was off. His arm. It looked like he was holding it.
Concern filled Wesker, and curiousity. Had Jack gotten injured? He went to the bathroom Jack ducked into, knocking on the door.
“Krauser?”
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“It’s quite alright. It’s not that imperative to my survival. It’s merely- mmm. It’s fine. I promise.”
Albert laughed gently with her. “Tea is much better than alcohol, I suppose. Yes, I would absolutely love a tea, thank you.”
He moved to take a seat.
@elizabeth-reid-rp-blog
To say Albert Wesker had a lot on his mind would have been an understatement.
Having just come back to life and escaped the manor before it exploded, Wesker had been on the run for a while. Now, he was tired, hungry and relatively sure he was in shock from what happened.
So, he went to most places people go to when they’re having trouble.
Entering the bar, Wesker looked like, and smelled like death. Still in his blood stained STARS uniform, he made his way for the bartender. He took his time, refusing to shamble even though it definitely would have been easier for him.
“One scotch.”
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Albert came out. He'd abandoned his bullet proof vest. All that remained was his standard issue trousers and shirt. 3 great big gashes were torn in his shirt, revealing hints of a decently built chest beyond it.
He looked down at his chest, grimacing a little at the ragged clothes. Fuck. He didn't usually use foul language, but he considered this an appropriate time.
He entered the room where his host was.
"Thank you for the shower."
@elizabeth-reid-rp-blog
To say Albert Wesker had a lot on his mind would have been an understatement.
Having just come back to life and escaped the manor before it exploded, Wesker had been on the run for a while. Now, he was tired, hungry and relatively sure he was in shock from what happened.
So, he went to most places people go to when they’re having trouble.
Entering the bar, Wesker looked like, and smelled like death. Still in his blood stained STARS uniform, he made his way for the bartender. He took his time, refusing to shamble even though it definitely would have been easier for him.
“One scotch.”
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Albert's cheeks gently reddened at the other's laugh. It was sweet. Very sweet. She was sweet. He'd have to ensure her survival somehow.
"Thank you." He said quietly just before the other closed the bathroom door. He found himself smiling as he moved to shower.
He didn't take that long in it. Around 7 minutes. Just enough to be sure he was clean.
Turning off the shower, Albert hesitated before putting his torn clothes back on. It was all he had. He couldn't very well go in only a towel, could he?
@elizabeth-reid-rp-blog
To say Albert Wesker had a lot on his mind would have been an understatement.
Having just come back to life and escaped the manor before it exploded, Wesker had been on the run for a while. Now, he was tired, hungry and relatively sure he was in shock from what happened.
So, he went to most places people go to when they’re having trouble.
Entering the bar, Wesker looked like, and smelled like death. Still in his blood stained STARS uniform, he made his way for the bartender. He took his time, refusing to shamble even though it definitely would have been easier for him.
“One scotch.”
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Albert looked up when the other called from the hallway. He stood, but hesitated.
He wasn’t very aware of the etiquette in showering in a stranger’s home. They’d been kind, yes, but he’d heard of the movie Psycho. True, he’d never really seen it, but that was besides the point.
Deciding he didn’t really have much to lose, given the virus would likely keep him alive through any more attacks, Albert cleared his throat first.
“I would very much like one, if you’re alright with it, of course.” He remarked, before walking down to follow her voice.
@elizabeth-reid-rp-blog
To say Albert Wesker had a lot on his mind would have been an understatement.
Having just come back to life and escaped the manor before it exploded, Wesker had been on the run for a while. Now, he was tired, hungry and relatively sure he was in shock from what happened.
So, he went to most places people go to when they’re having trouble.
Entering the bar, Wesker looked like, and smelled like death. Still in his blood stained STARS uniform, he made his way for the bartender. He took his time, refusing to shamble even though it definitely would have been easier for him.
“One scotch.”
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ENEMIES TO LOVERS, LOVERS TO ENEMIES AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN
“ you really expect me to believe a word you’re saying. now? after everything you’ve done. ”
“ do you really think i’m humble enough to ask for your help if i wasn’t truly fucking desperate? ”
“ you’re either really desperate to be coming to me, or you think i’m a lot stupider than i am. ”
“ face it, i know you better than anyone else. ”
“ somehow, out of everyone. even my own damn friends, you know me more. ”
“ i’ve seen parts of you no one else will ever understand. i see who you are. what you are. and i think you should stop making yourself smaller to make the world comfortable. ”
“ we’re nothing alike. i’ll never be like you. ”
“ why are you asking me for help? ”
“ you’re the only person who isn’t going to treat me with kid gloves right now. ”
“ you’re the only person who i know will let me do what i need to do without trying to talk me out of it. ”
“ i don’t understand what happened to us…why didn’t you trust me? ”
“ i’ve been in your shadow long enough. this isn’t about you. it’s about me, for once. ”
“ i’m not a project for you to finish. i’m not here to be part of your little savior complex. so stop trying to save me. ”
“ why didn’t you kill me? when you had the chance? ”
“ if you were going to kill me, you would have done it already. so, what do you want from me? ”
“ i think this is the first we’ve had a full conversation that didn’t involve you insulting me. ”
“ you’ve never held back from telling me the truth before. that’s what i’m counting on now. ”
“ i don’t hate you. i pity you. ”
“ i don’t hate you. i admire you. i always have. ”
“ i’d rather you hate me than be apathetic. hate means you still care. ”
“ please— just let me help you. ”
“ i don’t think you’re a monster. not really. i just think that’s what you tell yourself to feel strong. ”
“ i know you don’t believe me, but i’m trying to help. and i could actually do what i need to if you’d stop questioning me. ”
“ i’ve always been able to tell when you’re lying. ”
“ well actually, i came here to fight. but it looks like you’ve had a shit enough day it kinda feels like i’d be kicking a puppy. ”
“ no— please don’t cry. i’m…not good with the crying. ”
“ if we’re about to talk about feelings i’m out. ”
“ we could have had a future, you know. i wanted to do this with you. but you ruined it. ”
“ why are you really here? ”
“ i remember giving you this scar. you were so goddamn stubborn. ”
“ i love you. but that doesn’t change anything. ”
“ i don’t think you’re evil. i think you’re just lost. and alone. and you don’t know anything else. ”
“ it’s too late for me. ”
“ it’s not to late. i don’t believe that. ”
“ i’m just here to make sure you don’t get yourself killed. ”
“ i’m just not ready to tell the others about us. they won’t understand. ”
“ you’re the only one who has ever really understood me. ”
PROMPTS:
♡ for one muse to kiss the other with a knife to their throat
☁ for a fight to turn into a kiss and/or sex
❧ for our muses to be forced to take shelter together
❦ for our muses to be forced to share a bed
♥ for one muse to unexpectedly save the other’s life
☂ for one muse to spare the other’s life
✘ for one muse to get hurt protecting the other
✔ for one muse to catch the other in a vulnerable moment and have sympathy
☼ for one muse to see the other hurt and get angry
ϟ for one muse to take revenge on someone for hurting the other
✐ for one muse to do something hard/morally grey so the other doesn’t have to
☾ for one muse to open up about their motivations to the other
✄ our muses having angry sex
¶ our muses having desperate, passionate sex
❀ for one muse to confess their feelings to the other
► for one muse to injure the other and immediately regret it
▼ for one muse to heal the other after being the one to injure them
◄ for one muse treat the others injury caused by a third party
💀 for one muse to hold the other while they die
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"Thank you, sir. I know it's a nuisance, but it's necessary."
The comment about showering with his wives twisted Wesker's stomach. God, how did it come to him working for such an egotistical jag off? He was above this man. So much better than what he had.
He still smiles though. He may not fear Negan, but he does still value his life, funnily enough.
"That's very good, sir. Very...thoughtful of you."
God, he feels dirty kissing up to this sack of poorly handled daddy issues.
“Now i know most people listen to what i gotta say but i dont know how much they will listen when i start bitching about their hygiene.” He wasnt sure if people would bother to listen to that rambling from him but the doctor was probably right, even if Negan didnt want him to be.
“Alright fuck it. I’ll pass the word along. No promises anyone will fuckin’ do it but ill do my best to scare them straight.” He rubbed his face with a sigh, making a mental note he needed to shave soon.
“Anything else? Mandatory showers? Though i save water by showering with my wives.” He mused with a smirk, obviously proud of himself for the comment.
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"No!"
His voice was strangled. An almost desperate sounding cry as he tried to reach out to the stranger to slap his phone away.
"No hospital! I- I can't afford it!"
That was a lie, of course. Albert wasn't really lacking in money due to his immoral dealings. Still, it was the fastest excuse he could come up with to why he might not want an ambulance.
He fell onto the road, and felt something crack inside. Shit. That's a rib.
He struggled upright, holding on to his car for stability.
@shadessupreme cont. from here
Ethan furrowed his brow incredulously as he heard the stranger’s response. “What?” he all but shouted in response. “What the hell do you mean no hospital?”
He hurried towards the other, setting a light hand on his shoulder. There was only a slight bit of pressure in his touch, trying to silently discourage him from getting out of the car. “Look, man, I don’t think getting out is the right call. You look really hurt. Getting out might make something worse.”
With a frustrated sigh, he looks at his phone and then at the man.
“Look, I’m going to call an ambulance to get you just checked out. You don’t have to go to the hospital if you don’t want to, but you just need to know you’re okay. Alright?”
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