. . .

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑.

[jadejaw]

Visit Original Link

#𝕁𝔸𝔻𝔼𝕁𝔸𝕎 . . . when you get agitated, all that rage & fear & sadness you've kept pent up inside since you were a little kid . . . it all comes flying out, a thousand times magnified. you're like a bomb, and when you go off, buildings catch fire. people die.

a private, highly - selective & mutuals - only writing blog for DR. ROBERT BRUCE BANNER, THE INCREDIBLE HULK. 616 - based. inspiration from gothic horror classics, surrealism, unrealiable narration, etc. written by fox ( she/her , 28 ) since 2017. Do not follow if you are not 21+. trigger heavy, detailed below the cut.

a study in despair so deep, beginning at a child's birth who was called a monster from his first breath, duality of man, guilt, repentance. maybe he is a monster, maybe he's some . . . thing more savage. or maybe he's just the devil after all. maybe he died a long time ago — and this is hell.

01. carrd.

potential triggers and how I will tag them: suicide tw, abuse tw (childhood and any form of), suicidal ideation tw, body horror tw. death & blood will be featured in writing and occasionally in comic panels as well.

[jadejaw]

highly - selective, mutual exclusive bruce banner/the incredible hulk of marvel comics. 616 based. written by fox since 2017 (rebooted Sep 2024).

[jadejaw]

hello gamers, i'm gonna do a mass unfollow/soft block to clean up the blog a little and then rb an old self promo hehe

[whothehellisreadapt-deactivated]

[ STARTER CALL / @jadejaw. ]

HE HASN'T SEEN THE MAN AT HIS DOOR FOR OVER A YEAR, figure unmistakable in the warm light of the hallway ; alpine's fur stands on end, a warning growl in her throat as she retreats further into the apartment. bucky pays her no mind, a light smile softening the corners of expression, ❛ bruce ❜ head gestures towards interior, stepping slightly to the side to allow the other through, ❛ come in. ❜

[jadejaw]

there was always something bittersweet when reuniting with familiar faces in this way. the world had been kinder to them both bruce, for now, wasn't actively being hunted down by the government. the avengers, though not beloved, were reliable. he didn't love what being an avenger brought him, but to have a home for longer than a month, a base, somewhere with consistency . . . it was more than he could ask for. it was bought time, as far as bruce was concerned, but bought time that would allow him to make the trek to see an old friend. he won't look a gift horse in the mouth.

light smile is mirrored as the door is opened. he pulls in his shoulders and moves past bucky, peering down the hall towards the sound of the low growl he heard moments ago. ❝   thank you, bucky.   ❞ tone is amicable, the genuine familiarity in his grin audible, amber eyes rounded in humor as he leans a bit to see if he can find the source of bucky's small body guard. ❝   it's great to see you again and i hear you have a pet ? that is, i hope ?   ❞

[jadejaw]

long long meta on bruce's physiology and how the transformations have affected and continue to affect his body !  how i headcanon the transformations happen, what it looks / sounds / feels like to him, what it would feel like to interact with him after he turns back to banner, etc. additionally some stuff on how his physiology has responded to transformations over the years,   what’s changed in him,   how he reacts in general. this will also include some comic panels so tw for possible gore, blood, death.

general. before the big guy,  bruce was a lot skinnier and frail.  he wasn’t a well built dude,  ate like a bird.  he was thin and some people did not hesitate to point that out,  given he was of pretty average height but underweight.  canon had him listed at 128lbs at 5′9″, which is wild.

so let's talk a little bit about anger first.  in a very baseline kind of way, it’s proven that anger specifically  ( and this isn’t even counting a dude who can rapidly mutate )  causes all sorts of shit,  between responses in your brain  ( heightened breathing / tensing muscles / heart pumping / what have you )  to chemicals released that give you more subconscious responses, the fight in the fight or flight sense.  now,  these are all normal     but bruce’s is ascended over hundreds - fold,   and not only that,  it’s a hell of a lot more common because the guy has anger issues. the hulk is literally a mutation as a direct result of his dissociative identity disorder, and the hulk specifically was a personality that formed from the incredible rage that bruce felt during his childhood / quite literally learned from his father.   it’s extremely heavy stress and strain on his body and it just happens over and over. not only that, the biggest impact beyond the physical is his mental.

immediate transformation bruce. when bruce transforms, it's a very horrible thing to experience and witness. i won't go with some of the graphic visuals that immortal hulk uses, cuz honestly it kind of depends and that point of bruce's journey has a lot to do with how fucked his psyche was. this is an old screenshot i have of how rick explains how it feels to transform into the hulk. his bones pop and expand, they break, his skin rips apart and he basically entirely breaks to form into something new. it's not pleasant, and it generates an absolute fuck ton of heat. hulk's skin is very hot to touch, and the same goes for bruce's skin after a transformation. it won't burn but it's definitely a shock, it feels completely unnatural. he can usually barely walk for a few minutes and barely has his wits about him cuz at that point, it's him coming into consciousness from whatever hulk was doing, save the few times he regains control from hulk on his own / hulk giving him back control for one reason or another. it's effectively going from being unconscious to conscious again for bruce.

bruce's recovery post-transformation ( longer - term ). i’ll start with this:   bruce cannot recover from things like the hulk can. bruce can die ( ex 1. ex 2. ex 3a b c d  ).  he doesn’t heal faster than normal when he’s just bruce.   he heals and recovers from anything as any human would and is susceptible to the same.   injuries, illness, whatever      he especially has vulnerability the longer he is outside of a hulk transformation. the longer he's outside of a transformation, the more time his body has to sort of balance itself out and return to his standard physiology, in a sense.   the scale of this can sort of bend and twist, like if he comes out of a transformation and receives an injury then some of that remaining mutation still pumping through his blood will work some magic, but he's still not gonna heal a broken arm in a snap like the hulk can. a lot of the shit that happens to him goes completely unseen because he gets hurt, he gets pissed,  he hulks out. when he gets hurt after he transforms and the injury doesn't cause him to transform again, he's gonna end up in a hospital like anybody else.

in the very beginning immediately after the gamma bomb,  bruce was himself during the day and transformed whenever the sun went down, and his hulk was grey ( which is joe !! but that's a meta for another day ). given the hulk transformations happened every night,  his body would shred itself.  pumping full of adrenaline,   a million other responses that were way beyond the limits of the human body normally,  his body literally increasing so massively that his metabolism can’t even eat up enough to make up for all the activity and reactions and etc.  so what happens ?  it rips bruce apart,   primarily in regard to his health.   but that’s the thing :   hulk recovers from everything.   he’s in a cycle of his cells mutating to cure whatever ails him while his body is periodically being ravaged again by violent and unusual chemical imbalances. it makes bruce physically sick after a while, he's always absolutely starving, it makes him weaker, he'll sleep for way longer ( sometimes going on days ). these are some of the smaller reactions, too, like typically what would happen to him after a big avengers - level event that they need a hulk for.

also a plotting note: he occasionally reverts back to the day / night cycle changes whenever he has lapses of control, which depend on verses and stories and etc. basically, sometimes he'll be bruce during the day and hulk at night, but it won't really matter in writing or interacting with me unless there's a reason for it plot - wise, so you can assume the standard of he transforms when he's mad. i usually also tend to write him towards more in control.

the most obvious takeaway from this :  he has to eat asstons whenever he transforms a lot and needs to do quite a bit to take care of himself.   he needs to fucking relax.  a few times of him transforming ?  he’s usually good,  he can make up the hulk losses in spending a few days really just taking care of himself.  he honestly just needs time to cooldown from it and get better.  the radiation in his body will slowly react and repair everything else regardless ( because even though bruce can die, usually post - transformation him has a bit of that residual that works to help keep him safe because if he died after every transformation that would be pretty counter intuitive ). if he doesn't want to feel like an absolute dissociating train wreck, he has to take a knee. dissociating is a big key because honestly, the biggest mental part that it takes from him is how it starts to feel like he's physically being peeled away from his body. the more he transforms, the less coherent and cognizant he feels. he feels like he's spectating and his body is just going through the motions and doing what needs to be done. the hulk's psyche is fine, but bruce slowly begins to lose his grasp on reality more and more.

as many transformations as he did whenever he was first turning frequently ?  he was sick,  man.  the only reason he didn’t run himself dry was because of the frequency,  cuz hulk can adapt to anything.  the hulk’s body was adapting to all of the weaknesses it was applying to bruce’s body by the time he transformed again.  he gained more mass,  grew a bit more physically,  more muscle  ( not extreme,  he didn’t bulk up or anything.   he was unhealthy before and became just sort of a neutral healthy tbh ).  his body sorta gradually rebuilt itself accordingly and to a kind of normal standard.  his body grew healthier just by adapting to the drastic changes that were suddenly occurring,   but his mental state was becoming pretty manic from the constant pain,   lapses in memories,  etc.   there was so much going on,  and even though at the end of the day he would be alright,   the strain was immense. just because his body healed itself didn't mean it wasn't a massive toll on it for it to break, expend massive amounts of energy, and then do the same thing just to fix itself.  it worked, but it wasn't supposed to, and a human having to undergo that just gets to experience pain like nothing he's ever felt.

bottom line ! big takeaway: hulk’s physiology was directly beginning to morph banner’s,  and while the changes weren’t drastic,  they’re noticeable to anyone who knew him before.  he’s a bit healthier  ( sometimes,  depends on the period of time really ).  his regular body as bruce generates heat a bit more regularly ( he went from always cold trope to always too hot ).   bruce’s body is different post - hulk than it was before it,   in a surprisingly more stable way,   but the means aren’t very forgiving.

[sweetxsecret]

Avengers #684 Preview - The Immortal Hulk

[edenmemes]

song of achilles rp starters

by madeline miller. i altered some quotes so they fit better  ♡

❝  i saw then how i had changed.  ❞ ❝  name one hero who was happy — you can’t.  ❞ ❝  i feel like i could eat the world raw.  ❞ ❝  you are half my soul, as the poets say.  ❞ ❝  i have no need to forgive you. you cannot offend me.  ❞ ❝  i do not fear ridicule. i never have.  ❞ ❝  you have always trusted so easily; you have had so little in your life to fear or suspect.  ❞ ❝  do you hear me? please, say something.  ❞ ❝  your face is like quicksilver, always racing to something new. you unsettle me.  ❞ ❝  you do not give things up so easily now as you once did.  ❞ ❝  now i know how to make you follow me everywhere.  ❞ ❝  i would know your face in dark or disguise. i would know it even in madness.  ❞ ❝  there is no law that gods must be fair.  ❞ ❝  i have never seen anyone fight the way you do.  ❞ ❝  our dead come for their vengeance regardless of witnesses.  ❞ ❝  the sorrow was so large it threatened to tear through my skin.  ❞ ❝  when you die, all things soft and beautiful and bright would be buried with you.  ❞ ❝  you were always better with words than i.  ❞ ❝  i will never leave you. it will be this, always, for as long as you will let me.  ❞ ❝  you smile, and your face is like the sun.  ❞ ❝  i thought you were — something. you do not — you do not move like a human.  ❞ ❝  do you want to walk up to the woods?  ❞ ❝  you can’t be very wounded if you can stand for so long.  ❞ ❝  there are no bargains between lion and men. i will kill you and eat you raw.  ❞ ❝  we are like gods at the dawning of the world.  ❞ ❝  nothing could eclipse the stain of this dirty, mortal mediocrity.  ❞ ❝  i yearn for the darkness and silence of the underworld, where i can rest.  ❞ ❝  those seconds, half seconds, that the line of our gaze connected, were the only moment in my day that i felt anything at all.  ❞ ❝  you seem utterly unaware of your effect on the people around you.  ❞ ❝  it was almost like fear, in the way it filled me, rising in my chest. it was almost like tears, in how swiftly it came.  ❞ ❝  you are a weapon, a killer. do not forget it.  ❞ ❝  i have heard that men who live by a waterfall cease to hear it — in such a way did i learn to live beside the rushing torrent of my doom.  ❞ ❝  if you have to go, you know i will go with you.  ❞ ❝  there is no one like you.  ❞ ❝  we have given each other wounds, but they are not mortal.  ❞ ❝  and perhaps it is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone.  ❞ ❝  who can be ashamed to lose to such beauty? it is enough to watch you win.  ❞ ❝  do not let what you have gained this day be so easily lost.  ❞ ❝  you have killed them and taken your vengeance. it is enough.  ❞ ❝  no man is worth more than another, wherever he is from.  ❞ ❝  strange that such a small kindness feels like grace.  ❞ ❝  you can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature.  ❞ ❝  i cannot bear to see you grieving.  ❞ ❝  i remember little more than scattered images from my life then.  ❞ ❝  i would recognize you by touch alone, by smell; i would know you blind, by the way your breaths came and your feet struck the earth. i would know you in death, at the end of the world.  ❞ ❝  i see a dozen men here ready to leap on each other’s throats.  ❞ ❝  in my land a bow is marked as the weapon of cowards.  ❞ ❝  you may still make a good person.  ❞ ❝  you don’t bother to threaten me, yet. i should be worth threatening.  ❞ ❝  the memories well up like springwater, faster than i can hold them back.  ❞ ❝  i hoped that you would come.  ❞ ❝  the voices of the dead were said to have the power to make the living mad.  ❞ ❝  i have weathered the anger of gods before.  ❞ ❝  i thought of how many nights i had lain awake in this room, loving you in silence.  ❞ ❝  there is nothing in the world i want more than to know what you had not said.  ❞ ❝  you will never gain fame from your fighting. does this surprise you?  ❞ ❝  my mind is filled with cataclysm and apocalypse: i wish for earthquakes, eruptions, flood. only that seems large enough to hold all of my rage and grief.  ❞ ❝  i will not cry in front of you.  ❞ ❝  listen to me. you go too far in this. i will not be able to protect you.  ❞ ❝  there is no honor in betraying your friends.  ❞ ❝  i’m afraid I have been prompted by a rare stirring of guilt.  ❞ ❝  i promised myself that if i ever saw you again, i would keep my thoughts behind my eyes.  ❞ ❝  i did not want you to see my fear, though normally we kept nothing from each other.  ❞ ❝  gods and mortals never mix happily in our stories.  ❞ ❝  you will be dead soon enough.  ❞ ❝  you are destroying yourself. you will not be loved for this, you will be hated, and cursed.  ❞ ❝  you left yourself today. and now you are returned.  ❞ ❝  you are a better person than i.  ❞ ❝  whatever you do, i shall stand with you, as i always have.  ❞ ❝  you have looked at me a thousand thousand times, but there is something different in this gaze, an intensity i do not know.  ❞ ❝  my life is my reputation. it is all i have.  ❞ ❝  may i give you some advice? if you are truly his friend, you will help him leave this soft heart behind.  ❞ ❝  what are you thinking about?  ❞ ❝  even the boldest of people would whisper a prayer if they brushed against me.  ❞ ❝  the keen edge of my envy was like flint, a spark away from fire.  ❞ ❝  do you think we fight hopeless wars?  ❞ ❝  it is strange, that you would speak against betrayal.  ❞ ❝  if every soldier killed only those who’d personally offended him, we’d have no wars at all.  ❞ ❝  no one has ever tried to take something from me.  ❞ ❝  stay behind me.  ❞ ❝  will you help me put the rest of my armor on?  ❞ ❝  your face is blank and barren, like another language, impenetrable.  ❞ ❝  i am here because i believe that we will win. i am staying until the end.  ❞ ❝  your presence is like a stone in my shoe, impossible to ignore.  ❞ ❝  he is not worthy of you. he never has been.  ❞ ❝  will you tell me who hurt you?  ❞ ❝  it is like a nightmare; i expect, each moment, to wake to relief. but there is no waking.  ❞ ❝  i do not need to prove myself to you. to any of you.  ❞ ❝  you have always thought too much of yourself.  ❞ ❝  some men gain glory after they die, while others fade.  ❞ ❝  even here, behind the darkness of my eyelids, i cannot name the thing i hope for.  ❞ ❝  our joy is so bright we can see nothing else but the other.  ❞ ❝  you have a tender heart. an admirable quality, surely.  ❞ ❝  you are spring, golden and bright. envious death would drink your blood, and grow young again.  ❞ ❝  i will not be the raven on your shoulder all the time, predicting gloom.  ❞ ❝  you look different in sleep, beautiful but cold as moonlight.  ❞ ❝  when there is greed, there is hope.  ❞ ❝  i could have told you more, of the dreams that leave me bleary and bloodshot, the almost-screams that scrape my throat as i swallow them down.  ❞ ❝  you are angry, and not without reason.  ❞ ❝  you feel mislead; you were promised victory.  ❞ ❝  you know, it’s funny; i keep thinking i’ve seen you before.  ❞

[jadejaw]

𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑳 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺 . : 33﹕ sender hovers over receiver’s shoulder as they complete a task . ↪ @nachtsoklein

soft clatter of fingers drum against keys in one of the sitting areas of the mansion, housing the x - men. it feels some days he isn't afforded much silence, let alone the ability to complete unfinished works. it's early, the sun hardly risen, casting beams of amber over the floor of the half - lit room. dr. banner found it necessary to document radiation that affected not only him, but some of the other mutants & circumstances surrounding the x - gene. it wasn't a perfect work, nor his own — more an amalgam of found research collaborated, with added theory & conjecture from himself & other scientific minds.

then, a presence. he feels the cushions behind him dip, the warmth of a body now peering over his shoulder as he types. respectful silence such as not to interrupt, but enough to indicate his presence — bruce maintains his laxed posture. he's always been apprehensive about contact, hovering, that near - physical touch of another as they glance over his work. there were few who were welcome into that circle : stark sometimes, richards. kurt was one of the few exceptions ; bruce didn't know kurt like he'd known many of those he allowed near those walls. perhaps it was the impression he gave. his loyalty. bruce had seen how unconditional he was with affection & trust to his friends. it was . . . genuine. ( maybe a piece of him even envied that. )

moments pass. he finishes the sentence notating what recent contribution he had included to the extensive document. he saves, leaving it open, leaning back & turning his head to the side to peer up at his visitor. ❝   good morning, kurt.   ❞

[jewelstole]

oh the thrill of the chase. this ones special , he's got that look in his eye that he could turn at any moment. covering things up as if they are not blatantly obvious. yes , she has done her research. she is the stalker , the follower in the night that he is so paranoid about. if she wanted him to not know about her presence , she would have made that clear by now. now he's backed into a corner. adorable.

silhouette slinks to a wall nearby , seductively settling with a cross of the arms. " really ? could've fooled me. lucky for you , i'm just the wrong girl to tell you that i know you're little secret. " she winks. " how many more occasions are you going to deny the kind of man you are underneath all those layers .. ? don't worry , i'm not the type to kiss and tell. unless you want me to. " she'll pace , training green eyes on perfectly manicured claws. " i don't expect you to know me .. but i like making deals. let's face it , you're catnip. " she purrs. " besides .. i know your secret now. the world doesn't deserve you. only i do. " she'll throw in a little pout for dramatic effect.

[jadejaw]

his menial effort of ignorance is pierced — it was always worth a try on the off - chance he's afforded the facade. shoulders lax, falling, equal parts relaxing to already have his identity outed & finding no purpose to brace any longer. he's already been found. he'll have to leave regardless ; bruce won't be threatened by her, but he has little choice but to listen to what she has to say. hopefully to avoid a sighting before he can get out of this town.

he simply observes as she sails to the wall with an almost theatrical amount of grace. at least she's committed, cat suit & all. who is he to judge ? he's got at least one alter that talks like a terrible fifties noir movie character.

his hand lowers on the strap of the duffel, less of a defensive grasp, hanging his thumb in the loop near the bottom. he almost snorts at the catnip comment, resisting a smirk, made easier by her declaration that only she deserves him. whatever that meant. her comment does pique his interest, slight furrow of his brow, his lips flattened into an expression of neutrality albeit the gentle curl of the corner of his mouth, lilt of humor, glint of curiosity in his eye. his head tilts lightly, ❝   & what kind of man would you say that is ? usually people who claim to know as much have . . opposite reactions. however, you're right, i don't know you — even so, you don't strike me as the type to be as invested as you sound.    ❞

[jannwrites]

movie ask meme : JACOB'S LADDER (1990) directed by BRUCE JOEL RUBIN.

a selection of lines from the 1990 film jacob's ladder. modified slightly for rp purposes.

don't leave me.

yeah, you and everyone else.

fuck off! mind your own business!

i didn't want to wake you.

it is tomorrow. four a.m. how come you're so late?

why can't you remember their names?

they're biblical. they were prophets.

i don't let anybody call me that.

you're a real heathen, you know that, [name]?

you sold your soul, remember? that's what you told me.

is that the one who died?

sorry. it just took me by surprise. i didn't expect to see him this morning. god, what i wouldn't ...

he was the cutest little guy. like an angel, you know. he had this smile ...

i don't like things that make you cry.

it's amazing, huh [name]? your whole life, right in front of you.

they're gonna get me. they'll tear me to pieces.

i never hurt anybody when i was alive.

i don't understand you philosophers.

she said you were a son of a bitch and she regrets the day she set eyes on you.

i think she still loves you.

my brain is too small an organ to comprehend this chaos.

you know, you look like an angel, [name], an overgrown cherub. anyone ever tell you that?

this city is filled with creatures. everywhere.

they're like demons, [name].

it's the pressure, honey. that's all it is.

those guys tried to kill me tonight. they were aiming right at me.

says here the world's comin' to an end. the battle of heaven and hell they call it.

listen to me. i'm going out of my fucking mind here.

let me look at your hand.

according to this, you're already dead.

you are out of your mind, man. out of your fuckin' mind.

[name], you little devil. you never told me you could dance like that.

i wanna leave. get me out of here.

go to hell! go to hell, goddamn you!

if you go crazy on me you're goin' crazy by yourself. you understand?

there were all these demons and i was on fire.

i thought you said it was a nightmare?

i'm not going anywhere. i'm right here, [name].

come on, go back to sleep. you can still get a couple of hours.

you must have friends in high places, that's all i can say.

it's not worth it. you'll never win.

how many times can you die, huh?

god i hate this area. makes me nervous.

i'm not sure where i can talk anymore.

something's wrong, [name]. i don't know what it is but i can't talk to anybody about it.

you always used to listen, you know?

they've been followin' me. they're comin' outta the walls.

sometimes i think i'm just gonna jump outta my skin.

i don't know who they are, or what they are. but they're gonna get me and i'm scared, [name].

it's like i was coming apart at the seams.

they keep telling me i'm already dead, that they're gonna tear me apart, piece by piece, and throw me into the fire.

it's like they're crawling out of my brain.

he saw these creatures coming out of the woodwork. they were tryin' to get him, he said.

it's not worth goin' over again and again. whatever happened, happened. it's over.

i'm gettin' a headache just listenin' to you.

so tell me. am i still an angel?

this is your home. you're dead.

i'm not dead. i am not dead.

this is not a dream! this is my life.

i was in hell. i've been there. it's horrible. i don't want to die, [name].

you're a regular basket case, you know that?

you know what eckart said? the only thing that burns in hell is the part of you that won't let go of your life; your memories, your attachments. they burn 'em all away.

they're not punishing you. they're freeing your soul.

i'm not here. you haven't seen me.

the truth can kill, my friend.

hey, i'm not the problem. you've got bigger problems than me.

don't fight it. it's your own mind. it's your own fears.

it's hard to believe that the world could be so hellish on day and like heaven the next.

i love you when you're angry.

hello, [name]. i knew you'd come here in the end.

your capacity for self-delusion is remarkable.

you're a real dreamer, you know that? only it's time to wake up.

if you're frightened of dying you'll see devils tearing you apart. if you've made your peace then they're angels freeing you from the world.

[jannwrites]

book meme : WHAT MOVES THE DEAD by T. KINGFISHER.

a selection of lines from the novel what moves the dead. modified slightly for rp purposes.

i'm delighted by obscure passions, no matter how unusual.

it's cold and poor and if you don't die from falling in a hole or starving to death, a wolf eats you.

god, but it was a depressing scene.

i am, for the most part, not an imaginative soul.

he was the gentlest of souls, though he did collect rather odd things.

i swear to you, if i had not heard his voice, i would not have recognized him.

you look like you've been dragged arse-first through hell.

you have grown into an outrageous liar.

in some ways, it's rather refreshing to be treated in the same way as a fungus.

i will tell you, this is a recent dissolution.

i think it might be enough to make anyone ill.

i do not know how to deal with this sort of death, the one that comes slow and inevitable and does not let go.

death that simply comes and settles is not a thing i have any experience with.

i knew most of them would die anyway, but if they died in front of me, it felt worse.

we were friends once. i hope we still are.

i hear things now. everything. my own heartbeat. other people's breathing sounds like thunder.

sometimes i fancy i can hear the worms in the rafters.

but this place has made me afraid.

you don't pull punches in the morning, do you?

what sins could you possibly have?

you know i'm not a superstitious soul but i swear there's something wicked here.

they say mushrooms spring up where the devil walks and where the fairies dance.

perhaps they believe that the fungus is part of them.

it's in god's hands, not mine. perhaps not even his.

are you a witch, then?

don't listen to him. the dead carry lanterns down in the deep.

this place breeds nightmares.

he complains of nightmares. says the walls breathe them out.

i begin to think that this place has killed all of us, in its time.

most of us go to the devil without him having to personally oversee things.

the dead don't walk. you of all people know that.

really, what good would it do? have you not seen enough bodies in your time? maybe it helps other people, but it's just one more face to haunt your dreams.

headache is always preferable to heartache.

perhaps this miserable place has weighed down my spirit and left me vulnerable.

they don't fear ghosts where you come from?

i don't believe the dead actually care about those things.

[name], i have come to think of you as a sensible person, but there is something quite unsavory about all this.

you don't believe in possession, of course.

the dead may walk but i will not walk among them.

this thing, whatever it is, it's what's killing you. devouring you alive.

i've been dead for at least a month.

i could never help anything that killed you.

i know exactly where i would place the match.

[florasentinel-deactivated202501]

starter for : @jadejaw

" i am groot. " < i'm sorry for chewing on your new carpet. big fan , by the way. > he still does not understand why earthers have carpets. better yet , why they are so delicious.

[jadejaw]

❝   . . . right . . . hm . .    ❞ bruce stares down at the chewed corner of the carpet. it's not a small amount that's been eaten, but he's not very pressed about it. he didn't like it much anyway. moving the couch & coffee table to toss it will be annoying, however ; he wonders at this point if it would be easier to just let groot continue. he crosses his arms, a tired sigh through his nose. ❝   it's fine, i suppose that's on me for not having food you might — wait, of the carpet, or me ? ❞

[marveladdicts]

But that’s my secret, Captain. I’m already dead.

Bruce Banner in IMMORTAL HULK #6

[jadejaw]

the biggest mistake that's ever been made with Bruce's characterization (in the movies especially but overall the fandom's continued perception of him bc of it) is that he's a shy and quiet guy who's afraid of attention because it'll make him nervous and he's afraid of transforming and not the comic reason, which is he hates how he's been under a fucking microscope and that his private life has been outted and torn apart by media and now that he's a "hero" people just get to publicly treat him like a criminal and are scared of him and just want to ask him ignorant questions or make shitty assumptions and he's so tired of it AND he doesn't want to be a hero at all he hates being an avenger bc he doesn't believe he's a good person (but he actually is an incredibly kind and good and genuine person and that's why it's so good 😔)

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FOR ORDINARY THINGS THAT FEEL INTIMATE *  inspired by this post. these don't have to be romantic - you can specify romantic or not when you send them. in essence, these are simply intimate, affectionate moments to share with someone you love and care about. adjust as necessary, send 'reverse' for the reversal of the prompt

[ lean ] sender rests their head on receiver's shoulder

[ shop ] sender and receiver go to the grocery store together

[ brush ] sender brushes receiver's hair

[ tie ] sender helps receiver with their tie, either by putting it on or adjusting it

[ necklace ] sender helps receiver with the clasp of their necklace from behind

[ zip up ] sender assists receiver with zipping up a piece of clothing

[ unzip ] sender assists receiver with unzipping a piece of clothing

[ shoelaces ] sender bends down to tie receiver's shoelaces

[ swipe ] sender notices a smudge of something on receiver's face and gently wipes it off

[ braid ] sender braids receiver's hair

[ jacket ] sender takes their jacket off and hangs it on receiver's shoulders

[ puddle ] sender hurries to stop receiver from stepping into a puddle

[ drinks ] sender brings receiver a drink from a bar/their kitchen

[ feed ] sender feeds receiver's pet/s for them

[ cook ] sender and receiver cook a meal together

[ feed ] sender allows receiver to try a bite of their dish, holding their fork out for receiver to taste

[ teach ] sender, an expert at something, takes time to teach receiver how it works and how they can get better at it, too

[ readjust ] sender comes up behind receiver and readjusts their stance (maybe holding a gun, holding a golf club, aiming for something, etc.) to help them

[ makeup ] sender fixes receiver's makeup for them

[ bathroom ] sender and receiver go to a public restroom together and have a normal conversation in between the stalls

[ aloud ] sender reads aloud to receiver

[ refill ] sender refills receiver's glass without asking

[ massage ] sender notices receiver looks tense, steps up behind them, and massages their shoulders

[ listen ] sender listens to receiver explain something they're passionate about

[ silence ] sender and receiver comfortably exist in silence together, both of them working or reading or focusing on something different

[ food ] sender brings food over to receiver's house

[ hum ] sender hums along to a song receiver is singing

[ see ] sender sees something that reminds them of receiver and texts them a picture of it

[ admire ] sender stares at receiver across a room, silently admiring and appreciating them from afar

[ win ] sender lets receiver beat them in a game

[ puzzle ] sender helps receiver solve/put together a puzzle

[ carry ] after receiver falls asleep in an inconvenient place, sender carries them to a bed and tucks them in

[ kneel ] sender finds receiver sick in the bathroom ("tossing their cookies"), and kneels beside them, holding their hair back and cleaning their face

[ clean ] sender helps bathe receiver

[ wash ] sender helps receiver wash their hair

[ patch ] sender carefully patches one of receiver's wounds

[jadejaw]

❛   03  .    a   kiss   after   a   long   time   apart  .    ( not accepting . )        ↪            @stauerk

dr.  banner  wasn't  a  trusted  name.  it  evoked  horror,  destroyer  of  towns,  breaker  of  worlds.  a  mad  doctor's  bones  breaking  &  skin  tearing  to  reveal  a  behemoth  born  from  violence,  murder,  &  hatred.  tony  tries  to  protect  him.  he  faces  questions  &  runs  down  every  argument,  stalwart,  cornering  opposition.

❝       he  destroyed  thousands  of  homes  &  buildings  --             ❞                                               ❝      it  wasn't  his  fault.      ❞

it's  something  bruce  could  never  possibly  repay;  a  feeling  of  unconditional  faith  from  a  man  whom  had  seen  the  very  lowest  of  banner's  life  —  &  despite  who  he  saw,  still  chose  love.  but  so  much  energy  his  other  half  spent  defending  a  man  who  could  become  an  unkillable  juggernaut  leveling  anything  in  its  way.  a  monster.

if  it  weighed  on  tony,  he  didn't  show  it  —     he  wore  it  painfully  well,  but  bruce  had  no  doubt.  constant  reminder  of  a  painful  truth  can  only  be  denied  so  long.  it  was  an  exhausting  cycle  that  bruce  despised,  the  burden  of  bearing  a  curse  which  he  himself  had  tried  to  extinguish.  a  fire  out  of  control,  ceaseless,  you  try  to  snuff  it  out  it  gets  bigger  &  angrier.  tony  hated  when  bruce  made  these  kinds  of  decisions  without  him,  but  he  always  did,  because  tony  would  try  to  stop  him.

so  he  left.  this  time  was  shorter,  months  away.  he  couldn't  remember  exactly  how  long.  he  hadn't  been  far,  fortunately;  avoided  headlines  &  let  whispers  subside.  he  kept  some  contact  with  his  tony,  phone  calls  returned.  occasional  radio  silence.  tony  would  argue  &  bargain  but  he  always  yielded  to  banner's  absence      /     he  had  little  choice.  bruce  always  came  back  to  him.  he  returns  to  the  mansion  on  a  quiet  night  with  moon  &  dampened  stars  reflecting  overhead.  his  journey  to  this  threshold  was  a  blur  of  time,  hands  in  pockets  &  a  deep  breath  of  fresh  air  before  he's  made  it  to  the  door.  nothing  sets  off:  the  system  is  familiar  with  him.  jarvis  greets  him,  lets  him  know  that  tony  isn't  here.  relief,  quickly  tainted  by  suffocating  heartache.

it  pained  him  to  stay  away  for  long;  the  inevitable  tide  the  burden  his  split  nature  wrought,  the  guilt  for  taking  advantage  of  a  man's  obstinate  belief  in  such  a  tortured  soul  .  .  .     it  always  bowed,  eventually.  he's  only  human   (  despite  what  some  may  say  )  —     banner's  greatest  enemy  has  always  been  himself.  eventually  the  profound  guilt  dissolves  into  something  so  desolate  &  lonely;  a  piece  of  him  he  was  never  truly  familiar  with  pleading  for  love,  begging  &  asking  why  he  turns  away  from  this  one  touchstone  he  has.  it  tightens  his  throat  —      (  a  panic  attack   ?  )   drowning  in  an  emotion  foreign  to  his  body,  but  not  in  the  way  he  would  fade  &  awaken  in  a  cold,  damp  field.  his  alone.  bruce's.  a  powerful  emotion.  it  scared  him,  truthfully.

he  swears  to  improve,  but  time  can  only  tell,  &  the  forgiveness  his  counterpart  offers  guides  him,  sometimes,  to  forgive  himself.  he  thinks  about  it  &  he  realizes  how  rigid  &  lifeless  that  is.  clinical,  distant.  an  understatement  to  how  he  feels  for  this  person  unlike  anything  he's  ever  felt.  his  chest  hurt  to  even  think  about  that  man.  adoration  with  every  fiber  of  his  being  &  it  hurt  to  think  of  how  little  he  could  give  back,  how  hard  it  was  to  ever  show  him.  he  deserved  better.  tony  was  .  .  .  the  most  consuming  part  of  bruce's  life,  an  irreplaceable  piece  of  him.  his  will.

a  shower  calms  the  storm  of  his  mind  that  roars  inside  his  skull,  fingers  trembling  under  steaming  water.  he  stops  in  front  of  the  mirror,  hands  clasped  on  either  sides  of  the  sink,  staring  into  the  softly  blurred  shape  of  himself,  glasses  removed.  he'd  lost  weight,  tony  would  comment.  he  looked  like  he'd  hardly  slept  a  day  —  &  that  wasn't  untrue.  he  wanted  to  collapse  right  there  in  that  bathroom,  to  feel  the  cold  tile  against  his  cheekbone.  he  envisioned  the  freedom  of  that  surrender,  muscles  laxed,  his  whole  body  simply  ceasing,  energy  draining.  pool  of  scarlet  rolling  towards  the  drain,  tainting  clear  water.

he  leaves  the  bathroom.  digs  through  tony's  room  with  faint  luminescence  of  the  hall  light,  grabs  clothes  to  sleep  in.  there's  warmth  in  the  familiarity,  soft  scent  of  cologne.  he  glances  to  the  bed,  staring,  urging  away  fragmented  memories.  longing.  he  walks  to  the  living  room,  lies  on  the  couch.  the  sensation  of  what  the  cool  tile  would  feel  like  still  fresh  against  his  cheekbones,  fingertips  numb  —  he  breathes,  clearing  the  haze.  he  lays  down  in  the  open  darkness  of  the  vast,  lavishly  gaudily  decorated  living  room.  sleep  claims  him  in  moments.

tony's  return  is  raucous;  bruce  is  a  light  sleeper.  he  can  hear  the  heavy  footfall  of  impassioned  approach,  mind  blazing,  walking  out  the  shell  of  iron  man  &  into  the  next  innovative  concept.  jarvis  attempts  to  interrupt,  but  finally  manages  to  cut  in  that  tony  has  a  visitor.  he's  quick  to  ask  who  with  bewildered  pause.  it  seems  to  click.  bruce  sits  up  as  he  hears  the  other's  approach,  retrieving  glasses  from  the  coffee  table  to  put  them  on  as  lights  bathe  the  living  room.  tired  eyes  blink  away  sleep,  deafening  silence  between  them  as  they  stare.  bruce  is  first  to  break  his  gaze,  peering  down,  hands  clasping  together.

the  urgency  with  which  he  had  been  moving  earlier  is  restored  as  he  approaches  him,  eyes  locked.  bruce  straightens  a  small  amount  but  doesn't  move;  maybe  he'll  slap  him.  he'd  deserve  that      /      one  of  the  few  advantages  to  being  an  unkillable  rage  monster  was  their  ability  to  let  the  anger  out.  maybe  tony  would  throw  him  out.  throw  on  a  suit  &  provoke  him,  fight  him  then  &  there  to  resolve  his  own  rage.

braced  body  nearly  flinches  as  he's  pushed  back  down  onto  the  couch,  glasses  pulled  from  his  face  &  discarded,  a  knee  dropping  over  him  as  tony  straddles  him,  leveraging  bruce's  body  back  with  his  own.  firm  hand  presses  banner's  shoulder  down  onto  the  couch,  back  falling  against  the  cushions  —   tony  leans  &  kisses  him  deeply.  tony's  hand  cards  through  the  hair  on  the  back  of  bruce's  neck  &  up,  pulling  him  close,  opposite  hand  pressed  to  bruce's  shoulder  as  he  lowers  himself  on  top  of  him.  it  steals  the  breath  from  bruce's  lungs  instantly,  a  shocked  hum  escaping,  debilitated  by  the  way  his  heart  stops  like  he's  been  shot  in  the  chest.  his  spine  shivers,  arches,  pressing  up  into  the  kiss,  jaw  wide  with  need.  emotionless  man  he's  been  taunted  before;  he  can  feel  tears  welling  the  corners  of  his  eyes,  overwhelmed  yet  overjoyed.  fear  overcome  by  not  just  pure  relief  nor  reassurance,  safety.  one  hand  rides  up  the  back  of  tony's  shirt  to  pull  his  waist;  cold  fingertips  want  to  ride  against  the  warmth  of  tony's  skin  but  he  needs  to  hold  onto  him,  curling  the  back  of  tony's  shirt  into  a  white  -  knuckled  fist  &  holding  him  tighter.  opposite  hand  cups  the  side  of  tony's  face,  guiding,  angling  as  they  fit  against  one  another.

desperate  breaths  finally  break  them  apart,  bruce's  temple  grazing  tony's  forehead,  lips  close  as  hot  breath  is  panted  between.  bruce  kisses  his  bottom  lip,  whispering  against  him  with  a  breathless  murmur.    ❝      i'm  sorry  .  .  .       ❞      he  swallows,  staring  up  at  his  other  half,  holding  him,  hand  which  clasps  tony's  cheek  stroking  the  shell  of  his  ear  with  a  gently  shaking  thumb.  he  looks  into  his  eyes,  at  his  lips,  &  tony  responds  again  with  shared  hunger.  bruce  pulls  his  knees  up,  bringing  their  bodies  that  much  closer.

when  they  break  again  it's  to  lay  close,  tony  relinquishing  the  hand  in  bruce's  hair  to  chase  the  hand  grasping  his  shirt  to  loosen,  pushing  fingers  in  lace  together  above  bruce's  head.  pressing  his  face  into  the  crook  of  bruce's  neck,  breathing  into  him,  hand  over  bruce's  shoulder.  he  doesn't  see  what  emotion  tony's  eyes  have  to  tell,  but  he  raises  his  hand  from  the  side  of  tony's  face  to  pinch  the  bridge  of  his  nose,  willing  away  his  own  tears  which  threaten  to  run  down.  a  deep  sigh  rattles  his  chest,  moving  tony  with  it.  their  hands  tighten  together.  neither  breaks  the  silence  for  a  while  —   only  to  move  up,  to  reunite  lips  &  the  slow  slip  of  tongues  together  in  motion  far  less  urgent  &  desperate,  but  with  as  much  closeness  &  need.  they  stay  there  until  the  sun  begins  to  peer  over  the  horizon,  washing  the  room  in  a  deep  orange  gradient.

[jadejaw]

do people do tag dumps anymore