Resent and Remember

if you are sending to a multi-muse, remember to specify the muse that the prompts are being sent for . you can add + reverse to swap roles .

👕 Blood seeps through receiver's shirt from a fresh stab wound.

🗡️ Press a bladed weapon into the receiver’s side.

🤕 Peel back the receiver’s bandage to reveal the infected wound underneath.

💉 Inject a painkiller into the receiver’s arm.

🏹 Yank an arrow out of the receiver’s shoulder with a swift pull.

🪢 Wrap a makeshift tourniquet around the receiver’s thigh.

🔥 Cauterize the receiver’s wound with a hot blade.

🩸 Smear the receiver’s blood across their cheek.

🦴 Snap the receiver’s dislocated shoulder back into place.

🪡 Carefully stitch the receiver's wound with steady hands.

🔫 Press the barrel of a gun against the receiver’s fresh bullet wound.

😴 Carry the unconscious receiver somewhere safe after a brutal fight.

🫳 Trace fingers along the receiver’s old scars.

💥 Slam the receiver into the ground hard enough to crack a rib.

🔪 Drag the tip of a knife slowly across the receiver’s forearm.

🩹 Apply pressure to the deep slash on the receiver’s abdomen.

🦵 Kick the receiver while they’re down.

🫦 Wipe blood from the receiver’s split lip with a rough thumb.

🔄 Twist the knife embedded in the receiver’s shoulder.

🧑‍⚕️ Lay the receiver on a operating table under harsh light.

🪏 Dig fingers into the receiver’s wound to retrieve a bullet fragment.

✂️ Clean and cut dried blood from the receiver’s matted hair.

👊 Punch the receiver to give them a black eye.

🧊 Hold ice against the receiver’s swollen face until it numbs.

Strength isn’t how hard you hit. It’s how much of yourself you refuse to lose -- thor odinson in a reimagined story made strictly for the Resident Evil universe by monroe. everything here built from the ground up with the same thor we all know and love. just a little bit darker. #worthystill

{ @garglemyballsack && @bcmbsight } Independent 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘 and 𝐁𝐎𝐌𝐁𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 roleplay blogs from Amazon Prime's 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 and upcoming 𝐕𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠. Divergent. Heavily headcanon and show based. HIGHLY TRIGGERING THEMES. 21+

You never could hold down a girl. It was either a smack needle up your dick or — Having to stand next to you?

GARGLEMYBALLSACK; independent. private. mutuals only. BENJAMIN a.k.a. SOLDIER BOY! from amazon prime's the boys && vought rising. divergent. heavily headcanon and show based. verses in marvel, supernatural, the walking dead, and more! HIGHLY TRIGGERING THEMES. 25+ ONLY! follow at your discrection! g.c.

i missed bennies. it's how we won d-day, you know.  we were wired to the fucking gills.

For   the   first   time   he   can   ever   remember,   Loki   promises   to   still   be   here.   Fuck   that   chokes   him   up   in   the   worst   way   that   he   hides   under   a   cough   and   need   for   water.   Another   promise   to   pay   bills   so   he   won't   have   to.   He   could.   The   military   has   paid   his   hazard   pay,   far   more   than   he   could   ever   use.   All   of   this   is   overwhelming.   His   brother.   The   wires.   The   hospital.   The   unknown.   Thor   moves   to   place   a   hand   on   his   face   but   realizes   he   can't.   There's   more   to   his   injuries   than   he   first   realized.   what   the   hell   happened   out   there?

It was a rush to get Thor the water his sandpaper throat needed. Loki had spent enough time with IVs to know—it wasn't the same as a cold drink. All was well, until his brother tried to raise the injured arm and couldn't.

What happened?

Loki's lips pressed into a thin line. By some mercy, his unit's complete erasure from their plane of existence had been swift. He wouldn't be surprised if the military was still at the scene, combing through the wreckage for remains. How Thor had survived, even he didn't know. Perhaps the universe realized just how terrible a hand his brother had been dealt, and folded out of pity.

"... The helicopter went down. I'm sorry... but, you were the only one who survived."

Should Loki have known that? Any of that? The answer was an almost certain no, but there he was, knowledge in hand. He hadn't suffered the same fate, but Loki remembered lying in a hospital the year before. Ripped open by both a bullet and a blade. His employers paid for his recovery, but did not pay him a visit. No one did. It was one of the nurses who asked, who's Thor? He's not in your contacts, but you keep asking for him. Is there a number we can call? Loki should have provided that number. Should have, and didn't. Disrupting Thor's life just to have a nightmare come true felt so cruel.

The   more   aware   and   awake   he   becomes   the   more   the   ever   present   aches   he   feels.   Yet   his   head   feels   fuzzy.   Must   be   some   massive   pain   killers   being   forced   into   his   veins.   But   what   happened?   The   last   thing   he   remembers   is   the   helicopter   shaking   violently.   The   systems   alerting   to   something   very   wrong.   After   that   it   gets   fairly   fuzzy.   Thor   shifts   and   immediately   feels   the   tug   of   wires   in   him   and   the   feel   of   bandages   wrapped   around   him.

His   brain   is   searching   through   Lost   memories   and   he   cannot   remember   much   of   anything.   It   isn't   the   pain   that   is   plaguing   but   the   absence.   The   blank   space   in   his   mind   where   the   memories   should   be,   the   silence   that   filled   the   room   other   than   the   beeping   of   the   equipment.    Finally,   he   prepares   himself   with   the   harsh   light   and   blinks   a   few   times   trying   to   adjust.    His   first   instinct   is   to   ask   about   the   others.   His   brothers   in   arms,   but   that   thought   is   staunched   when   he   is   met   with   the   sight   of   his   brother.

"I know."

For once, there was no snark, no bite to the words offered to his elder brother. The man who'd tried so hard to keep them some semblance of a family, when Loki was too angry with the world to let him. He never hated Thor, who had most every right to hate him. Loki spent the past several years as unreachable as their parents who died young and drove that spike between them.

Ice blue eyes studied the IVs, the monitors, and the glaze in Thor's. He wasn't ready for any of it—not the circumstances that brought him there, and not what his little brother had been up to. "... You still need to rest. Still refusing to do anything in half-measures, and apparently that includes your injuries." The smile was faint, and it hurt. "Don't, ah—" Loki shook his head, "don't worry about bills, I'm taking care of them." Far from an actual apology, it was a bandaid at best. He'd spent so long being absent from Thor's life, he hadn't known how to come home. If he would even be welcome.

"... You really do need to rest. I swear I will still be here when you wake." Loki wouldn't slink off, not this time. Thor had almost died, and that rattled him to his very foundation. At an integral level Loki had long since believed was absent. Dissolved by his own hands. He was wrong. The helicopter crash ripped him out of the country in less than half an hour., and everything after was a tense blur that landed him in that room. Listening to machines holding his brother together.

the spark in soldier boy's eyes, mischievous and humored, slowly begins snuffing itself out the more he listens to loki answer the very question he asked. old haunts creep into the spiderwebbed encasings he's let weave their way around the darkest corners he'd rather not stare into for too long. lest what is buried and covered inside of them creeps out to swallow him whole. no. those spiders are best left untouched. pretend like they aren't there long enough and you trick yourself, just for a fraction of a minute (and that's all you can hope for) you can believe that they no longer exist. that you've moved on. brushed past.

left them to rot when the faces inside of them would've and did do the same to you.

soldier boy clears his throat--tearing his gaze away from the green eyes pinning him in place. not noticing that he was staring, lips parted and listening with a growing sense of dread that the lies he decorates his face with on a daily basis might be exposed.

what loki says next.. tells him he was right. the bunker.

few steps back are taken and he rips his gaze off. is about to excuse himself. leave. put distance between that pretty mouth that keeps speaking too many truths that he can't stand hearing. a side glance to where the demigod is searching and he pauses. swears that door wasn't there before. what the fuck? mental note to lay off the weed. just a tad.

If nothing else, it was nice to be near someone who understood. Knowing was enough, they didn't need to exhume the ghosts any further than that. It had been playing with fire from the start—Loki knew damn well what he might have done to a creature who read him so casual, yet visceral.

"Sure, it's as good a door as any." Ice blue eyes left Soldier Boy's face and turned to the grimy metal. Emerald light shined through the cracks behind it for a moment before the handle was turned, and it swung open to reveal a room of warm luxury. It looked like a high end tavern, but with enough detail and care to look authentic instead of gimmicky. Leather, wood and stone, and high windows that showed a glittering rocky coast. Loki stepped inside first to show it was safe, and he waited for his savior to enter, closing door behind him. "All I ask is you don't push on the boundaries or break the windows. It is its own dimension, and dimensions do not collapse quietly."

Weapons adorned the wall above the fireplace, daggers of all sorts. With a flash of green, the one Loki had taken off a corpse in the alley appeared mounted beside the others, and inexplicable SB carved into the hilt, as if to mark their meeting. Soldier Boy was free to wander the space while Loki strode behind the bar to scrutinize his collection. Selected one of his darkest and oldest, and if his guest was watching, he'd find a shimmer of green stole over the empty space where the bottle had been, and created an exact replica.

Loki almost reached for one of his preferred Asgardian cups and stopped, grabbing instead two Midgard glasses to offer Soldier Boy at least some form of familiarity. Two drinks were poured, and the bottle was left between them, free to grab. "Sometimes," he pushed one glass toward the soldier and lifted his own, "the best revenge is hedonism. Enjoy indulgence, because we still can." He flashed a smile and drank. An excellent choice, one of his oldest, smoothest, and strongest. "I apologize for reading too much. And for not letting you finish."

AND MY EYES DON’T RECOGNIZE YOU NO MORE. FOR  REASONS UNKNOWN

Castiel | Ind. Canon-divergent | @fallenangelwings

Bernadette | Supernatural OC | @nichtsehen

Fritz | Multifandom medic OC | @nichtschaden

Loki | MCU Canon-divergent | @theprisonerofasgard

Multimuse | SPN, MCU, more | @fracturedlayers