REVENANT

here's the deal, ouroboros — bite down, or let go.

[revunant]

               𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯. 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵.

𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑. 𝐄𝐒𝐓. 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟎. // ​𝙆𝙃𝙀𝙉𝙐𝙈 𝙇𝙄𝙎'𝙀𝙆𝙏; the spinewalker. 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝘀𝗺'𝘀 𝘃𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗹. 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤. // 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊. 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨.

𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 & 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 ○○○ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆 ○○○ 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

Visit Original Link

[twinsfawn]

how to move through life like a real human being and not a reanimated corpse

[feralratbitesu]

[bleedinghearth]

It's that fish smell that has him really curious, snuffling and snorfling at the delicious, oily, rich scent that lingers in his skin and hair, tongue flicking over and over in a "peanut butter face" that a lot of animals have when trying to discern a new or exciting scent.

"You smell a li'l bit different."

[revunant]

The nose sniffing Jesper is far too large — a few stray strands of hair flick about with every frenzied inhale and exhale, the flicking of his tongue occasionally hitting his chest. All Jesper does is raise an eyebrow, confident that he won't become a meal without first giving express permission.

“Good different, or bad different? I don't stink, do I?”

[revunant]

❰❰ HANDS ❱❱

𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. (accepting) ❰❰ HANDS ❱❱ sender’s fingers graze the receiver’s fingers.

The touch doesn't last long at all, but he notices. His eye flits to where V's hand now rests, and he cracks a genuine smile, if a small one. It's rare that he shows any kind of sentiment that doesn't come from a place of need. Is he growing attached?

It's dark. Getting darker. Neither of them are hindered by it; the way Jesper's hands continue to move, deft and practiced, he could probably do this with his eyes closed. But why would he want to? If this isn't worth seeing, he's not sure what is. To his mind, this is a sunrise, a wedding, a home-cooked meal. He never gets tired of it.

The look on his face is almost fond.

“You have no idea of the thoughts I have about you, Sunflower,” he murmurs, making idle, one-sided conversation over their supine form. The knife in his hand feels less like a tool and more like an extension of his arm; like everything he does with it is second nature. And he's gentle, about as gentle as a man can be when wrist-deep in someone else's thoracic cavity. “Though I'm sure you'd like to hear them.”

That tender, impulsive gesture isn't repeated, but the evidence of it persists. The little rounds of crimson on their fingertips, the pale streak left on his skin, that residual electric feeling. Jesper does them one better, banking on the fact that they're still aware enough to appreciate it — he lifts that same hand to his lips, speaking against their knuckles, using one hooked, bloody index finger to aim their face towards his.

“Stop being cute, now, hm? You're only going to make this more difficult.”

[marichive]

An Extremely Self-Indulgent Meme

Physical prompts based around some of my favorite tropes / physical actions in threads. Send this   + reverse   to change which muse does which action.

tw for implied violence in some

❰❰ PIN ❱❱ sender pins receiver during a fight/training

❰❰ HURT ❱❱ sender is hurt protecting receiver

❰❰ CARRY ❱❱ sender carries receiver bridal style

❰❰ LIFT ❱❱ sender carries receiver over their shoulder

❰❰ MEDIC ❱❱ sender bandages receiver’s wounds

❰❰ SUPPORT ❱❱ sender comforts receiver after a loss / traumatic event

❰❰ THREAT ❱❱ sender holds a weapon up to receiver as a threat

❰❰ SAVE ❱❱ sender saves receiver’s life

❰❰ CRY ❱❱ sender cries in front of receiver

❰❰ DANCE ❱❱ sender invites receiver to slow dance

❰❰ HAND KISS ❱❱ sender kisses receiver on the hand or wrist

❰❰ CHEEK KISS ❱❱ sender kisses receiver on the cheek

❰❰ HEAD KISS ❱❱ sender kisses receiver on the forehead

❰❰ EMBRACE ❱❱ sender embraces receiver

❰❰ HANDS ❱❱ sender’s fingers graze the receiver’s fingers

❰❰ CUDDLE ❱❱ our muses cuddle

❰❰ BED ❱❱ our muses share a bed

❰❰ BRUSH ❱❱ sender plays with / brushes receiver’s hair

❰❰ GAZE ❱❱ our muses make extended eye contact

❰❰ ALMOST ❱❱ our muses almost kiss but don’t or are interrupted before they do

❰❰ ARGUE ❱❱ sender ends an argument with receiver with a kiss

❰❰ ARM ❱❱ sender puts their arm around receiver

❰❰ PULL ❱❱ sender pulls receiver close to them

❰❰ BACK ❱❱ sender touches receiver on the back

❰❰ SHOULDER ❱❱ sender touches receiver on the shoulder

❰❰ LEAN ❱❱ sender leans against receiver

❰❰ CARESS ❱❱ sender caresses the receiver’s cheek

❰❰ HAIR ❱❱ sender pushes receiver’s hair away from their face

❰❰ TILT ❱❱ sender tilts the receiver’s chin with their hand

❰❰ CHIN ❱❱ sender tilts the receiver’s chin with their weapon

❰❰ LEG ❱❱ sender’s leg touches the receiver’s leg under the table

❰❰ FOOD ❱❱ sender feeds the receiver

❰❰ WALL ❱❱ sender pushes the receiver against a wall

❰❰ FREE ❱❱ sender frees the receiver from restraints

❰❰ TACKLE ❱❱ sender hugs the receiver so hard they almost fall over / do fall over

❰❰ DYING ❱❱ sender finds the receiver near death

❰❰ PANIC ❱❱ sender comforts the receiver as they have a panic attack or get overstimulated

[revunant]

dynamic: loving, devoted, mutually assured destruction…guns aimed at each others heads, ready to pull the trigger when they step out of line…but only bc they want u to do it, and you know theyd do the same for you, and you know it needs to be done…

[segamascott]

[revunant]

@bleedinghearth | 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝.

“Haven’t you sniffed me enough by now? Surely I smell no different than I did yesterday.” Besides his clothes, and interacting with the world in a new way with every new day, he does smell subtly different than he did yesterday. It’s differing levels of radiation, most likely, but also the fact that he had salmon for breakfast this morning.

[revunant]

His tummy hurts. He needs dinner of boiled chicken and rice. Please please please please

[seven-oh-four]

i saw someone licking their wound and felt really bad for them - that must taste awful! so i decided to do them a favor and add some salt in there

[seven-oh-four]

(pointing at the gash across your chest) are you gonna eat that or can i have it

[revunant]

[ palm ] sender places a hand on receiver in receiver’s hand to stop them from doing something

Totally-not-daughter silently trying to stop Jesper from doing something

From @cliippedwiings OR @mementomoriia (when she was tiny sized)

𝐧𝐨𝐧-𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 (accepting)

He's not dressed for the weather. That must be all she sees as she pitter-pats up to the open front door, her hand in his before she can even come to a complete stop — she must assume he's simply being unwise, simply exercising poor survival sense. No coat, no gloves, nothing even covering his ears or neck, by the gods, what is he thinking? It's cold enough out there to quickly kill someone who copes well with low temperatures, were they this ill-prepared. It would kill him twice as quickly.

But his survival sense is excellent. He's not sleep walking, he's not obeying some cruel and unusual dare; he's not even drunk. Anyone other than a child would be able to pry some deeper meaning from the position he's put himself in, and from the way he freezes when she grabs him, like he's being held in the jaws of some enormous beast.

God. Fuck. Fuck, shit, fuck. This was the one thing he needed to not happen.

He doesn't look at her, can't bring himself to. He looks at the sky (what of it is visible through the fuzz of falling snow), black as coal. And when he performs his voice, it's too perfect, free of the usual hoarseness, the occasional break or waver or hitch. “What are you doing down here?” he asks the blizzard. “Shouldn't you be in bed?”

[irreparableinnocence]

I love characters with tunnel vision. False dichotomies. The sunk cost fallacy. Characters who are convinced of their utmost rationality and can even lay out their entire philosophy in logical, impersonal terms and convince others even though the whole of their actions, rationalised to hell and back though they may be, are spurred on by something entirely emotional (and this doesn't stop them from being right on the money about some things). Characters who are at once the most and least self-aware people ever. Characters who know the ins and outs of their psyche like a map they've memorised but can barely tell when they're experiencing a feeling.

[aromanticduck]

Character who is apparently an 'open book', but it turns out that a lot of the writing is incomprehensible or outright illegible, there are pages missing or in the wrong order, different parts of the text contradict each other, and 'reading' this person leaves you more confused than you would be if they revealed absolutely nothing.

[mcflymemes]

"I CANNOT SHOW ANY WEAKNESS" PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue for those who think they need to be tough at all times to get through a difficult situation, adjust as necessary

i don't have time for games, [name].

you can't stop me.

these people are counting on me to save them.

every second i wait, every moment i take for myself, is another life lost.

i'm not willing to put anyone else's life on the line.

i have to be tougher than this.

you taught me to be strong.

i'm not giving up.

there's no time to waste.

you stay behind. i'm leaving.

that's not a risk i'm willing to take.

there's no time to sit and chat. i have to keep going.

i'm not tired.

i was just resting my eyes.

you're imagining things.

i'm perfectly fine continuing on.

we have to pick up the pace.

they're counting on me to fix this.

there are so many lives at stake.

we can't slow down.

don't ask me to take a break.

i wasn't crying.

i can't let them see me falter.

there's no time for breaks.

i don't need sleep. i need answers.

i'm not wasting another second on this.

we have to figure out a way around it.

get up. we're going.

we're finding another way through.

if i have to break the door down, i will.

so many people are counting on me.

i can't afford to fail.

i can't let them see me quit.

there's no room for failure.

too many lives are at stake for me to just sit here and do nothing.

they need a hero.

i'm not sitting around and waiting for someone to save me.

i don't have time for this.

i can do this on my own.

get out of my way. let me try.

move out of my way.

you're not going to stop me.

do you realize how many people are relying on me?

sometimes i think of the faces of those who died because i wasn't fast enough.

i'm not sticking around to find out.

let go of me. i'm leaving.

there has to be some way to stop them.

i haven't quit yet.

"giving up" isn't in my vocabulary.

i don't need you to look at it. i'll be fine.

it's just a flesh wound. it'll heal.

you can't make me stay here.

they put me in charge.

i can't afford to let anyone down.

i'm not strong enough.

[jessiesjaded]

Ship dynamics are always like Sunshine and Sunshine protector~ Cinnamon roll and their grumpy one 🤗 Well what about 2 cunts. They're both cunts and that's the dynamic. cunt4cunt.

[revunant]

"What did you expect? Me to stand there and do nothing?" - Spades!

𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 (accepting)

It's late night, edging into morning - but from inside this ascetic, small-windowed box of an apartment, you'd barely be able to tell. The blinds are down, the bulbs are either absent, or blown, and the only source of light comes from a reading lamp on the makeshift workbench. An empty bottle of liquor is on the windowsill, its younger brother stood next to it, still three-quarters full.

“Yes! Maybe! I don't know!” How was he supposed to? Maybe, if it was someone he'd managed to get a good read on, he'd be able to predict their every action, but Spades? Fuck knows. Jesper hasn't been here long enough to figure out why so much time and so many resources were wasted on saving him, let alone the rest of it.

They both each have fistfuls of twisted metal, pieces of what used to be a half-built auxiliary spine. It had been destined for the scrap pile before they'd pulled it into portions, because Jesper has spent the last five or so minutes beating it against a wall — if you asked him, he'd say it had been destined for the scrap pile before even that. The rest of it is scattered across the ground; in the dim light, it's some poor animal's ribcage fished from a peat bog, exposed wiring curled around it like dead ferns. A gnarled edge has drawn a shallow cut across the back of Jesper's hand.

He'd been too impatient to give the physio a chance, too proud to outsource the work to someone else. Those decisions had been set in stone the moment he'd made them, and now he has to fix himself. But he's rushing the work, and he knows it. This is his second failed attempt. He’s got no choice but to try a third.

“Just...give me that.” He reaches wearily for the scrap in Spades' hand, skull feeling too tight for his brain. Too sober, too fast, too soon. “Why are you even here?”