heart's a stubborn muscle

I REACH DEEP DOWN WITHIN BUT THE PATHWAYS TWIST AND TURN, THERE'S NO LIGHT ANYMORE & NOTHING LEFT TO BURN tracking #rustedshut open to indie and oc rp

[rusted-shut-blog]

HEYAAA i'm going on a medium-length break from rping! i'm going to finish up anything else i owe in the next week or so, and then be pretty much afk at least until late july. irl obligations such as gamedev work and college are eating up my time pretty fast. i'll still be ghosting around the dash so message me here if you need to get in touch!

[rusted-shut-blog]

✿ //wifeswap au i dare ya

8: first kiss

He rubs fervently at his wrists, his knuckles, glancing around the room. Picks a little at the small knot of scar tissue that’s cropped up in the crook of his elbow since he started splicing more regularly. It’s not a nervous habit anymore so much as it’s just become…habit. Ferdinand’s been to see the doctor often enough that the more anxious tics have become less of an issue.

As he watches Ashford put away the notebook he’d been documenting symptom progression in, he speaks up. “I wanted to…say something. I know you can’t do much psych-wise since I can’t…pay for appointments, but.”

He glances away out the window, still scratching his hands a little idly. “Honestly, you probably get this a lot but, ah. It’s very reassuring to have someone I can discuss these…things,” - here, Ferdinand waves his hands and gestures in the general direction of himself, - “…that are, that are going on with me. I’m pretty certain anyone else I know would think I was goddamn crazy. Probably I am anyway, now.”

The taller man doesn’t say anything, and in the corner of his eye Ferdinand is acutely aware of the doctor gazing at him, probably trying to pinpoint if he’s done talking. A warm flush of embarrassment creeps up his spine.

“Shit, sorry. I’m rambling.” Slowly and deliberately, he turns his head back to Ashford, maintaining eye contact. Breathes in slow, chews his lips for a minute, tries to steel himself.

“What I mean is, ah. Thank you. For everything you’ve done.” And then without further ado Ferdinand tilts his head and leans up to gingerly press his mouth against the doctor’s.

[larmoyante]

We can never be gods, after all—but we can become something less than human with frightening ease.

N.K. Jemisin, The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms (via larmoyante)

[rusted-shut-blog]

✿

7: firm kiss

In retrospect, it was not a good idea to assume Kaden’s posturing was just that. The man had an uncomfortably flirty manner about him, yes, but for the most part he’d kept his hands to himself. Every now and then, though, there was a transgression, an arm slung around his shoulders that lingered too long, a pat on the face. Ferdinand had to restrain himself from recoiling. Owen Kaden’s reputation preceded him, and he knew that walking on eggshells around the other splicer was the closest thing to a safe course of action.

Even if it meant gingerly brushing Owen’s hands away from his own, a gentle rebuke when what he wanted more was to snatch a tumbler off the counter and smash Kaden’s fingers then and there for touching him like this.

All this taken into consideration, when Kaden, leaning a little too close (as always) and speaking a little too low (as always), abruptly reached forward and clasped both hands behind Ferdinand’s neck, pulling his him forward over the table and bringing their mouths together, it still caught him off guard. Instinctively, he tried to wrench his head away, but the other splicer’s grip was vise-like and it accomplished little more than clicking teeth together.

Ferdinand tasted blood on the other splicer’s tongue and couldn’t determine if it was from whatever Kaden had been drinking, or from the bitten lip he’d just earned himself. It wasn’t clear which he’d have preferred, distracted as he was by his nerves roiling and skin crawling at being manhandled this way.

He planted both hands on Owen’s shoulders and shoved back hard, breaking away and stumbling back from him into a standing position. He rubbed hard at his mouth, spitting out the taste of alcohol and the still-unsourced blood.

“You do something like that again,” Ferdinand mumbled, not making eye contact in some attempt to seem less hostile, “…and you’re gonna lose teeth.”

[scarletxspider-deactivated20131]

send me a ✿ and i’ll generate a number.

[rusted-shut-blog]

1: aggressive kiss

2: all over kiss

3: back kiss

4: cheek kiss

5: eyelid kiss

6: fingers kiss

7: firm kiss

8: first kiss

9: forehead kiss

10: french kiss

11: gentle kiss

12: ghost kiss

13: hand kiss

14: jawline kiss

15: last kiss

16: neck kiss

17: rain kiss

18: stomach kiss

19: underwater kiss

20: upside down kiss

[angryannabel-blog]

ferdinand w/ number 17 pls and ty

[notmusa]

Visit Original Link

[darkskyhell]

[reversaltechnician-blog-blog]

// fsquared, #3

cant believe u have me out here drawin my own ships

[leiadanverswho]

[rusted-shut-blog]

I want the k

2. face stab

It’s been a long time, he muses, since anyone’s mouth has matched what he heard. Words have never lined up easily with their meanings, though, but that was more chalked up to keeping deceitful company. In the literal sense of the phrase, what it means is that when Faolan pins down the boy and promptly freezes him to the floor, encasing his shaking arms in ice to the elbows, Ferdinand watches with amusement as the Atlas rebel's mouth gapes and pupils dilate soundlessly. It’s become apparent that ruptured eardrums make for a strange experience of the world sometimes.

When he presses a hand to the side of the kid’s face curiously, it’s cold - not even like touching a person, he’s only marginally warmer than the air around them. The splicer kneels down behind him, craning his head over as he investigates the boy upside-down (who appears to be continuing to scream.) He hums, loudly and tonelessly to himself - he can’t hear the tune, only feel the vibrations. Still, he likes to think it does something to drown out the voices. There’s a fuzzy familiarity to what he remembers of Rise, Rapture, Rise, even if it’s not entirely audible.

Really, it’s hardly like he’s even dealing with a person here. It’s more like picking open a chilly little corpse, albeit one that’s still making a valiant attempt to thrash away. Faolan’s doing a decent job of restraining him, though. So, when he pries open that mouth a little further, jams a knife through the side of his face and widens the scream a considerable few inches like he’s doing exploratory surgery, there’s no little twinge of guilt. Nobody chattering away speaks up against him. Holding the boy's head down to keep steady and sawing open the other side of the small mechanic’s jaw, Ferdinand is perfectly content.

[rusted-shut-blog]

Wrong Number (Tag: Sonja)

[rusted-shut-blog]

Read More

[cct-archive]

Read More

[rusted-shut-blog]

Hearing this, Ferdinand visibly deflates for a moment. Then, just as abruptly, he straightens up again, shoulders rising and mouth pressing into a tight line. Frustrated, he grumbles, “You’re...not Singh? Shit.” He makes some vague gesture in her direction with his free hand and leers forward a little, venom in his voice replacing the bitterness of failure snatched from the jaws of victory. “Not spliced, though. If you’re not a doctor, the fuck’re you doing around here?” 

[pawsmenu]

Visit Original Link

[rusted-shut-blog]

(( did i send you one yet because i desire the K ))

12. drowning

Isaiah Hall never knows when to slow down.

When he comes out of the gloom, eyes glazed and mouth slick with ADAM and blood, Ferdinand barely realizes he’s there before Hall reels back and punches him square in the throat. Somehow, he never expected Hall to get this spliced - always, there had been the idea he’d find the Ryanist face down in some derelict bar, gutted by a Bouncer, cut neatly into strips by some other cracked-out splicer, but not this way. Not with electricity visibly pulsing in the arteries in his neck, the skin warping off his hands in swaths where lightning has flown one too many times.

Isaiah Hall is tall and brawny, the kind of power to his build that makes a good bodyguard.

Muscle, however, does not protect his elbow from splintering when Ferdinand writhes out from underneath him - narrowly avoiding a punch that would have shattered his collarbone - and kicks down hard, the joint giving way to a mess of pulped flesh and blood under his shoe.

Isaiah Hall has never seemed to remember that he’s vulnerable.

When he tries to electrocute Ferdinand, his torn hands wrapped around the splicer’s throat, the smell of ozone is so overpowering they both taste it like blood. Squinting against the heat and light, electricity surging harmlessly over his skin, Ferdinand grabs at his wrists, letting the lightning find its source again. Hall’s pupils dilate and he tries to jerk away, but it’s too late and Ferdinand feels the muscles under his skin twitching and dancing under the influence of a thousand volts.

Isaiah Hall, somehow, seems to think he cannot be destroyed.

The corpse rolls away when he lets go, froth at the corners of his mouth and eyes. Sweating and trembling, Ferdinand kicks the cadaver away, the bony joints of his hands almost locked in place where his fingers knotted in Hall’s hair. There’s watery blood smeared across Hall’s face, still dripping from his ears, his nose.

Isaiah Hall, for all his conceit and power and reach, dies alone in the water.

[bitch-po-zhisni]

[rusted-shut-blog]

Wrong Number (Tag: Sonja)

[rusted-shut-blog]

Read More

[cct-archive]

Read More

[rusted-shut-blog]

Excitement runs up his spine when she turns upon hearing her name called. Success after all, then. Ferdinand’s sorely tempted to approach her faster now, but catches himself, slows his step and paces forward in a more leisurely manner. No reason to rush now that he’s properly got her attention now, anyway.

“Doctor Vera Singh. That’s you, right?” the splicer answers, rolling the syllables and speaking her name with the slow, clear enunciation one might use speaking to a child. There wasn’t so much distance between them now, but his voice and footsteps still echo a little. Getting a better look at the doctor, he registers two things - Singh doesn’t have a plasmid (an activated one, anyway) and she seems to be unarmed. The tenseness in his shoulders and back uncoils some, and Ferdinand plants his feet a little more firmly.

[rusted-shut-blog]

go ahead, give in - mix for houdiniowen {listen}

brutality - black box recorder rev 22:20 (dry martini mix) - puscifer black black heart - david usher dangerous animals - arctic monkeys new fang - them crooked vultures smooth sailing - queens of the stone age love - abney park i want it all / we will rock you (feat. armageddon) - queen