revenantiisms-blog

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You’re alone because you’re unique.

She doesn’t know how to   r e a c t   to that; She doesn’t   w a n t   to be unique. It’s an irony that she’d spent the majority of her life wanting to be special------wanting to be the best-----and now she just wants to be normal.Liv shoves the remainder of her noodles into her mouth and sets her bowl aside so that,   h o p e f u l l y   the little meatballs in her ramen   w o n ‘ t   beimmediately obvious as neural tissue. Ravi is usually the only one who comesdown here------she hadn’t been   p r e p a r e d   for this (it’s stupid, and she’ssmart enough that she   n e e d s   to be careful, but he’d taken her by surprise, and so it takes her a few moments to regroup). The lie comes easily;more easily than the truth, at any rate. Because there is no way to explain herlow heartbeat or the fact that she 100% has human brains stuck in her teeth.“No...I have a skin condition...”

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NBC Hannibal Sentence Meme

Tell me your design. Tell me who you are.

I feel like I’m fading.

I have no taste for animal cruelty. That’s why I employ an ethical butcher.

I’ve given my life to death.

Must I denounce myself as a monster while you still refuse to see the one growing inside you?

You have intelligence, gut, a good eye. So how is it you that you wind up where you ended up?

Neither of us are really free.

If there’s problem, you need to tell me. Is there a problem?

Nothing here is vegetarian. Bon appetit.

Must I denounce myself as a monster while you still refuse to see the one growing inside you?

I feel like I’ve dragged you into my world.

So, how was my funeral?

You’re alone because you’re unique.

You tried to kill me. It’s hard not to take that personally.

Would it feel good to kill me now?

You’re not my friend. The light from friendship won’t reach us for a million years. That’s how far away from friendship we are.

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(I will get home at around 5:30/6:00 today and I might spend some time on @fragiilisms bc I want to make a starter for one of my fave nerds so hot me up there)

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She can't handle that kind of kindness. It's been only a few weeks (a month? Three?) since the boat party that ruined her life, and ever since she woke up inside of a body bag her life has been empty. No fiance, no career, no friends or family (not really; how could she tell them?). No taste buds, no purpose. If there's a silver lining, she can't find it. She has no idea where to begin looking. "No. I. Thanks anyway." She sets down her basket of bronzer and got sauce and abandons her place in line, because what's the point? She's already dead.

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She doesn’t   h e s i t a t e   to place her fingers over his; he’s going too fast, he’s turned at an angle, and she’ almost   c e r t a i n   that he’ll break a finger at the rate he’s going. She curls her fingers around his, and   g e n t l y    takes the cloth from him------he’s no good to himself when he’s falling apart. “Slow down. Breathe. Say it slower.” L o o k    a t    m e ,   p l e a s e . She tells him, although   m a y b e   that’s the wrong thing to say, because if she can’t see his face the repetition is   p o i n t l e s s .   She isn’t great at discerning temperature anymore. Both of them live in a state of partial numb, but she makes an   a t t e m p t   to at least switch the sink over to warm water. “How? What happened?”

☠—-   He throws a hasty apology over his shoulder. He’s worrying, scrubbing blood off            his hands. Rome left the guy in the alley he jumped out of. Didn’t even think. Just            ran as soon as the high wore off. He could spend all day convincing himself there’s            nothing he could have done to stop himself. After all, the guy had jumped Rome, and            when the adrenaline gets going, there’s nothing he can do but wait it out.

❝ I fucked up, Liv. ❞ His signs are wavering as he speaks, and he takes the rag from her,    squeezes it so hard his knuckles should be paler than they already are ( he has no    blood flowing through his veins ).

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It doesn’t look   g o o d ;    he seems woozy and he’s got no balance to speak of, and that’s a lot of blood. Slight silver lining; he probably isn’t going to ask any more inconvenient   q u e s t i o n s   about her injury, if only because with the hit he took, he’s liable to pass out at some point. Actually, that’s not good. Not at all. Now she’s e x t r e m e l y   worried. Liv places her palms on his cheeks and tips his head back to take a look in his eyes------one blown pupil.   F U C K . She’s going to have to get him to a hospital; he’s got a fucking   c o n c u s s i o n . The kind of concussion that could very well end in a coma and   d e a t h   if left untreated. She’d   w a n t e d  to be a heart surgeon, and ironically she’d never really   e n j o y e d   her various units on neurology, but this looks fucking   b a d . “Okay. It looks like you’ve got a concussion. A bad one.” There are   l a c e r a t i o n s   on his scalp, which explains all the   b l o o d . She’s more worried about the damage to his brain; he’ll need   s t i t c h e s , but head wounds always bleed a lot------for now she needs to get him up and m o v i n g   unless she wants to be dealing with a cadaver. “Okay. Up you come. We need to get you upstairs. Do you have a phone? We need to get you to a hospital where they can take a look at your head. You need to stay awake. Concentrate on my voice.”

“What?” Is all he can say, staggering closer before he finally takes a knee and holds that damn blood back with his hand— it’s starting to get in his eyes, stinging and making all this trying to figure out what’s happening unnecessarily hard. Danny doesn’t need this, and he doesn’t need her to look at him, not after she… did whatever that was earlier. But he doesn’t wave her away. Let this strange woman come in close and look, and he’ll do some looking of his own. There’s no significant amount of blood spotting that jacket, and yet he can see the rip where the glass speared her. It should have ripped through anything in its path, and she should be dying, and she’s miraculously fine. Suspicious doesn’t even began to cover it. “Where is it…?” he mutters, head bowed forward for her to check him out. He’ll be able to feel her chi when they touch again, and he can read her— find out exactly what kind of boogey man he’s fallen onto, to a certain extent. At least he’ll know if he’s hallucinating or not.

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@vinylchanges

"I can’t see your face...” She reminds him, because he’s   p a s s e d   her and reading lips is an inefficient art at   b e s t .   She’s a little thrown------he’s usually very good about   r e m e m b e r i n g   that she’s all but   c o m p l e t e l y   deaf now. It’s too much blood to be his------they don’t bleed that much and the smell is too   i n t o x i c a t i n g .   She moves to a drawer and pulls out a washcloth; he’s gotten   b l o o d   all over her sink, and his   h a n d s are shaking and she can’t think of any other way to help.

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“ FORGIVE ME FATHER— “           “ FOR WHAT I AM ABOUT TO DO. “

      ind. matt murdock rp

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reblog if it's okay to IM you

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Is that what she looks like when she’s having a vision?

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peyton charles + season 1 outfits

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“It’s just you two.”

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It’s a real world outdoor treasure hunting game. Strangers leave caches, post the GPS coordinates, and then people like us go out and find them.

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I’m sorry, Liv, but I don’t believe you. I can’t!

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