MY BOY IS BACK.

I am praying to all the writing gods that they do Dex justice, not to mention Karen and Frank.

aaaaalso i'm retiring this blog and maybe making a single muse blog for dex.

BLADE From Bethesda & Arkane

​       ▎ It was a strange thing — the mind. It was capable of conjuring things from imagination and by all rights felt real to body it inhabited. Anything the brain perceived was fact for the person and the person alone, no matter what other voices said. Accustomed to screaming, that of his own and from his enemies, he heard the phantom noises whenever his mind even dared to rest. A degree of rest in the shower, and Karen's struggles mingled with the downpour of steaming hot water. Frank had to stop more than six times to really listen, then realize that any signs of struggle were fictions of a battered mind. Like a person suffering with tinnitus, violence plagued his hearing even when it was beyond senses. It wasn't a new occurrence; Frank would often hear and see things after returning home from extended missions.

These things only lasted a couple of days before he settled into the routine of normal . . as close to normal he could get. It never stopped for Frank in the present. There was no home to return to, and there was no end to his mission. He scrubbed himself as though he was prepping for a physical or for his wedding night. The water could have cooked his skin, yet it wouldn't have been hot enough. He was mindful not to use all of Karen's hot water however. He lingered and scrubbed, but also diligently scraped his nails, washing away any traces of violence. He did not know how much time passed when the water was shut off, but it felt all too short.

Even with another ten minutes, Frank figured it would still feel short. With head dropped, Castle remained inside the steam logged shower and focused his breath. Droplets of hot water followed the slopes of battered and chiseled muscle from head to the surface of the tub. Although entirely slick, he swore he could feel every single droplet as it followed the path of flesh. He needed to calm down; he needed to reserve his hyper awareness for when shit would get ugly. It inevitably would; life for Karen and Frank carried that sin.

Curtain was drawn back, and Frank stepped onto the cold tile, only bothering to wrap himself in a towel for the sake of not making a mess of Karen's bathroom. One towel was fastened about his waist, and another hung across his shoulders to catch the excess water from black hair. In front of the mirror, hands gripped the edges of the sink. Another minute of focus passed before he wiped his palm across the cool surface of the mirror to reveal his tired expression. He did look better after the shower however. To helped himself to the toothpaste there, yet without a brush he scrubbed the minty goo across his teeth and tongue with the pad of his finger.

He cleaned his mouth like he had bitten into a man. Everything about Frank was ferocious; he constantly sought to punish himself even in rudimentary tasks. After he rinsed his mouth and was left pleasantly alert with minty freshness, palms met his face to scrub his face. A sorcerer willing life into a battered body. If it it wasn't for Karen, the man would have stole himself to the damp quiet of the bathroom for hours regardless of the temperature change. He dropped into her life again, and it wasn't fair to leave her alone with a storm of thoughts.

Towel moved harshly through hair, and then was left over shoulders to continue gathering water. Frank felt ashamed stepping out with only a towel on like he was crossing a line the two of them had agreed upon. He didn't want to leave her alone however. He stepped out slowly, listened for any signs of stress, then fully emerged barefoot when nothing reached his hearing. For a large man, he padded around rather softly, purposefully, and eyes searched for the blonde's body.

  ❝  Holding up okay, Karen...?  ❞   

continued from here / w @ascnsion (tumblr really wouldn't let me cut the post anymore)

      It was hard not to linger in the presence of Frank Castle, something ever so compelling about him. She didn't miss the little twitch threatening at his mouth after her words had landed on him sharp enough to shut him up momentarily. This was the part that felt easy between the two, she found solace in the way their souls spoke the same language. Even when they argued, didn't agree about factors and pointers, they still somehow understood each other in all of their differences and disagreements. Or the very least they were willing to settle somewhere between agreeing-not-to-agree and an agreement.

     Well, now they were actually agreeing on something. He really did need a shower. While she wasn't about to tell him that he both smelled bad and looked the part, a corner of her mouth twitched upwards at his own observation about him own smell.

     She was blatantly watching him navigating through her apartment, finding just the right way leading to her bathroom. And though she watched his every move, she quite didn't have it in her react when he turned around and bestowed her with his attention once more. Bestowed because every moment with him felt like it could be the last, bestowed because somehow she felt seen when his attention was turned on her.

     His words halted her racing mind, words that she might've not needed if she had been in the right mind; her next move could have been to go close her curtain, likely having her lingering by her windows just to see if anybody was still lurking somewhere out there. Idiotic and dumb, but maybe the words had been to set her straight again.

     Only after Karen could hear the distant sound of her shower running, she began to move again. Moving back towards her small kitchen corner, beginning the process of making coffee with her slightly shaky hands. It was a step by step process, a process she needed to put an unusual amount focus on just to stop her mind from running from the threats outside, to the man showering just down the hallway and to all of the possible out comes of her new situation.

     While attempting to put all her focus upon her process of making their coffees, she couldn't entirely push away the suffocating feeling of dread threatening to succumb her entirely. She couldn't but halt the movement of pouring water inside the coffee maker, almost causing a crack to the glass pot with the way her arm limply fell as she set the pot back on the counter with a sound.

      ' Breathe, blink, focus on the task instead of allowing the dread to settle. Frank is here, he took care of it. Nothing is going to happen right now. Breathe. Blink. Focus. '

     And so she continued, resuming back to her movements. Conscious to the fact he was just a scream away.

Been messing around with “AI” generated art. Unfortunately, it’s not capable of putting Sam Heughan in Gambit’s comic accurate outfit.. yet.

Must be nice for the Murdock fans to be fed regularly.

Meanwhile US Frank and Bullseye fans are starving.

Forgotten

Unwanted

​       ▎ Hesitation was present in both of them, but only his own was readily clear in his mind. It was this trust thing people often spoke about. The only person Benjamin ever placed his place in was with his therapist. No other person, nor an institution, or idea had been worthy enough of placing his trust into; simply the idea of placing trust in something was rather foolish in his mind. Karen appeared pleased with his appearance, but he knew one of his greatest flaws was his inability to read people and judge what was normal.

People were frightened of him, and Karen had hand in the way he was arrested in the church after his altercation with the real daredevil. It was too late to turn back now even if he had second thoughts. Doubts were present, but it was overpowered by the desire to see the night end peaceful with a happy Karen Page. He did not rush the trip in the slightest. Calm and collected, he used the woman's information and the phone which was provided to him ( monitored by his handlers of course ) to find the restaurant and pick up their food. It took longer than he anticipated, and he even considered buying another little gift for Karen.

There would be time for that another day and another. So was the hope. No one recognized him as Benjamin traveled freely, and it spoke great volumes how little either paid attention to the news, or how much news entered and exited the brains of Americans that a vast amount of information was forgotten. The ghost of hesitation returned upon facing the door leading to her apartment. Trust, Dex. Trust. It was a strange thrill; one he did not expect to find. There would be horrid disappointment had Karen betrayed him, but considering how few emotions he actually felt, the threat of betrayal and danger had him . . excited.

Hand hovered over the door knob and then twisted the handle. Unlocked. That was something. Slowly but not too slowly, Benjamin pushed the door open and peered inside with a less than subtle curious glance. No police nor Daredevil nor Frank Castle. A small smile settled onto his lips as he moved inside fully, and then shut and locked the door behind him. Bag stuffed with food containers was placed on the counter. Diligently, he began taking out the containers one by one and placed them side by side on the kitchen counter in order of size.

The madman took the liberty of searching cabinet after cabinet until he found plates, took two large plates out, and spaced them evenly beside the containers of food. Because of his grotesque methodology of killing, people were likely not to peg him as an extremely tidy person; it was the result of therapy and military training. Utensils and napkins would have been retrieved as well, but suddenly it felt intrusive and rude to explore her kitchen without Karen's permission.

  ❝  Actually water is fine. Thank you, Karen. I figured this might be easier and nicer. I was never one to eat out of take-out containers.  ❞   

As he comes closer and closer to her she can’t help the way her heart begins to pound louder and harder inside her chest, and surely he has to see the fear in her eyes. How could he not? She wasn’t like Matt, she wasn’t able to keep her fear deeply contained. She had a killer in her room. A psychopath. A predator.

She watches as his palm comes to the door and then speak his threat. His face and voice are soft but the words- the warning- is venomous and the terror in her mind screams that soon she’ll meet her end, but somehow she manages to offer up a similar smile, or at least she thinks she does. “I won’t,” Karen manages to respond, giving another small smile before she watches the man open the door, feeling her throat tighten at his pause- her fear of his change of mind- a snap. But instead he walks out the door and closes it behind him.

For a moment she’s frozen in fear, in relief. Her hands going back to their trembling and tears start slipping down her cheeks. Finally she manages to choke out a breath as hyperventilation takes over. Quickly the blonde turns, running towards her phone, shaking fingers pulling up Matt’s contact but just before she presses it, she stops.

What would come of this? It took both Matt and Fisk to take Benjamin down the first time, but as far as a combat between Matt and Benjamin? It was a toss up. She couldn’t guarantee herself his safety, even if he was able to come up with a strategy.

Her mind battles the two options and ultimately…it wasn’t worth it. She couldn’t put Matt at risk like this. She wouldn’t be the reason he was hurt tonight. More tears pour down her cheeks as she sets her phone down then numbly begins walking to her bedroom, pulling out a change of lounge clothes then heads into the shower.

In the spray of the shower head, her own tears stop, a feeling of true fear and hopelessness coming over her, but she knew…she knew she had to keep playing the part. She had to get through the night and get to the office and there they could come up with a plan…but tonight she had to be brave.

The shower doesn’t take long and quickly, Karen gets dressed then goes to her closet, pulling out Matt’s gifts and the wrapping paper. Normal. Keep this night normal. She heads out to the living room once more, placing the items on the floor as she begins to wrap the gifts, taking one big breath as she heard the front doorknob turn.

“Hey,” Karen casually greets as she tapes down a side of wrapping paper. “Did you find that place okay? I’ll get the drinks…give me one second. Was the rose alright? Or do you want a beer?”

@dusktrip

the only problem i have with this ship is that there is 50% less hair pulling...

​       ▎   ❝  You know what they say. If I had a nickle for every time . .Plenty of people have threatened to deliver the killing blow or a great deal of harm when the have some bullshit moral compass.  ❞   Hand moved through the air with lax wrist; a sign of boredom. The same old, same old. Didn't she get IT? If he didn't find her even remotely interesting, he would have killed or not even bothered. Lithe and skillful, Bullseye determined when to linger around and when to make a swift exit. An annoyed click of his teeth was produced. Sai was unfastened from the loop at his hip, and the sharpened edge was very carefully used to scratch the middle of his back.

  ❝  I get it. Obviously you've only dealt with CLOWNS before. No, I like my women that can kill. I like a challenge.  ❞   Bullseye thoroughly enjoyed stabbing women who were powerful, almost enough to kill him. He omitted that part; surely she knew the gist of his dark desires already. Whatever expression of interest and amusement which flourished on his expression died like withered leaves in an instant. Why were all the super heroes and vigilantes crawling up his ass when someone dark with abilities brushed him off? Some dude, likely a father figure, must have fucked her up big time.

  ❝  Oh. I get it. Girl power and whatever. Have it your boring fucking way then. Myself, I'm going to hit the town. Heard there was some clown broad that got tortured and butchered by the warehouse district. Was gonna check that out. Y'know, just for the laughs.  ❞   He was no man of desperation. It had always been a one man party, and he was no simp trying to get a little ass on the side. Sai returned to its place at his hip, and he returned up the emergency escape ladder with the intentionto bound from roof top to roof top as one did.

continued from this.

​       ▎   Wings of a butterfly — playing cards moved with a vigor seemingly of their own accord. Back and forth in a way which could have mesmerized or hypnotized, however for the mutant, it was a way to keep his energy at bay as the two discussed the details. Calm and rash thinking had never been his forte, though not to say it was not a quality he was entirely void of.

    ❝  More den enough. Reason why I'm here, mon ami. Don' trust 'em. Le's just say homme saw enough t'know I or we can jump on dis. Seen some pictures and surveillance tapes a' de kids been abused an' transported like cattle. But if you have de contacts t' get a more precise location . . den no complaints will come from me. What more d'you want, mmm? Don' trust me enough?  ❞   It wouldn't be a blow to his ego . . Okay, it would be, but it wouldn't be tremendous. People he was closer to had managed to stomp on his feelings with easier strikes.

continued from HERE

                 NATASHA KNEW ALL TOO WELL THAT CERTAIN types of evil would never be removed from the face of the earth. the war against truly wicked people like those trafficking would continue to be a never ending battle. fighting too many of those battles was always so hard on her, the mental and emotional weight was one she carried for months on end after those types of missions. and yet, she didn’t correct the mutant. she didn’t tell @ascnsion that his plan, although brimming with good intentions, was flawed. it was the right thing to do and although it peaked her curiosity as to why a mutant would be interested in helping, she knew it wasn't her place to ask.

                 ❛ how many of those leads can be confirmed? ❜ they moved through the shadows and out of the empty apartment, down the hall. ❛ i might have some contacts who might know a thing or two. especially for those overseas. ❜ the underworld was vast but it didn’t take very long for word of mouth to spread, for people to start questioning those inquiring about things. protecting her connections would be tricky but not impossible.

i can't get enough of them.

​       ▎     He knew well the way heart and mind strained upon hearing such negativity, but Frank Castle was negative . . . a pessimist when it came to humanity and his own mortality. Karen was a god damn saint, and it was her bleeding heart that tolerated all of the bullshit he spewed and brought to her doorstep. What fucked up things happened in her childhood to make her so passionate about those who did not deserve her kindness? Groggy thoughts are rewired the moment her body moved next to his and as large as he was, he pressed himself tight against the cushions to give her space. Instinctively an arm wrapped around her body even though he knew it was wrong.

  ❝  Sleep.  ❞   He mirrored her command as if it was a spell that would work upon verbalization. Frank tucked his chin down and brought his face against the nape of her neck, curling in and bringing Karen as close as possible. Her warmth and the comfort of her scent did appear to be working miracles. The man felt himself being pulled into the world of sleep, but not before he shifted his face to tenderly rub the tip of her nose against her neck. Karen Page. Lips moved without thought, kissing her neck twice before he actually managed to slip into slumber.

"Maybe that's fair," Karen whispered, silently pleading for the exhaustion to win and take over. He had to sleep, even if it was only for a few hours, there had to be some compromise, some recovery for his drained body. His touch to her hand causes her to pause, cerulean hues flickering down to his rough skin, amazed how such brutal hands could feel so gentle around her own.

His words bring a soft color of rose to her cheeks and suddenly she's aware that, despite whatever they might have felt, their lives could never be normal. But that didn't mean they couldn't feel...even if it was in the privacy of their own mind...and maybe one day closed doors.

When he lets go of her hand, Karen bites her lip, about to speak until he mentions wanting someone to miss him when he was gone. Immediately her chest tightens, because she knows....she knows that he isn't planning an after. This was his life, and this life would ultimately end his. And just the thought was too painful to bear.

So she refuses to acknowledge his words, instead she leans forwards and offers him a gentle kiss to a bruised cheek. "Sleep," she pleads again, fingers now brushing through his hair. "Please....please sleep. I'll stay. I'll do whatever you want....just sleep...."

Lips press together, watching over those ever so stubborn features before she gives a small side then shifts, carefully crawling her way on the couch next to him. It's a tight fit...but it's just enough for her slim frame to curl up next to his. "....Sleep Frank..."

​       ▎       ❝  I like to think highly of everyone. Too highly ; been called an overbearing optimist. There would be no one to send a card to, and they wouldn't do that anyway. Likely would be seen as being culpable for a death. Are we going to chit-chat, or are you going to tell me your real intention?  ❞   Fingers of both hands were flexed out of habit as expression remained solemn. Blue eyes set on her face.

When in Kathmandu, you do drugs on the street. C’mon Steve, buy something from the out-waged peddlers. The undercurrent of your life outside America won’t be a sense of shame that you’d betrayed your family – or worse, yourself. You talk about partisan liberties. Practically---it’s good to be on foreign soil.

‘  Nice to see you think so highly of me. You’re an Avenger. Can’t just pronounce you dead, you know. Anyone else who goes missing in that organization can be replaced. What do they send? Condolence cards?   ‘

@ascnsion

​       ▎       ❝  The wrong foot, knee, ankle, and chin, but as long as you don't go for the death blow, you'll be fine.  ❞   Tension was present in tone of voice. Worn in expression as well, however he made no attempts to use force against her. Not yet.

@ascnsion steve

‘  Did we? Get off on the wrong foot?   ‘

Nevermind that Fury had sent Barton to do a man’s job, now here’s the actual man.

Activity soon . . . he says for the 100th time.

but for real, i'm on work hiatus so I have plenty of time now.

t-shirt that says 'touch starved' and on the back it says 'for violence'

​       ▎ Frank Castle listened with the tranquility of a child hearing a grand story of fiction and fantasy. In no way was Karen's life normal, but it was extremely normal in comparison's to Frank's. She had her excitement, villains lurking in corners, overall the simplicity of her life and the way she spoke of it appealed to him greatly. Tired or no, Frank had a feeling the woman could speak the most vile of things in the same tone of voice, and he would love it all the same. He was too tired to nod along or participate in the conversation. Eyes being open were enough to show her that he was listening. Lids were heavy, dropping further with every second, however the mention of testosterone wakened him. A weak grin moved across his lips, and Frank hummed a mmm in agreeance. He didn't know how normal or strange it was for women not have plentiful female friends. Maria had always found friends fast with neighbors and employees at local grocery stores. Frank, as she put it, had been all the testosterone she could handle. It only made the announcement of Frank Junior's sex all the funnier. She, too, had joked as soon as he started going through his teenage phase, she would send him living in a tree house. So long ago that conversation had been. The happy expression slowly melted away from his face, and he opened his eyes to look at Karen's face.

      ❝  You don't listen to me either, so we can call it even.  ❞   His voice carried the rasp of exhaustion still. Slowly, he bent his arm at the elbow in order to take the woman's hand. It wasn't a strong hold by any means, but it was enough that thumb rubbed against her palm.

      ❝  He's here . . I'm here because you remind me I'm alive and maybe there's things still worth sticking around for.  ❞   Frank could not be the man who took Karen out to lunch when she needed it the most. He could not be the one to accompany her to Target to buy new linens and kitchen supplies. He could not . . do right by her. He released her hand and let his own rest against his chest.

    ❝  Maybe I want someone to miss me for more than a week when I kick the bucket too.  ❞   

There was still so much she didn't know about Frank Castle and the timeline of their friendship? partnership? relationship was nothing but microscopic on the scale of his life. However, that didn't stop her from trying...and clearly it didn't stop him from showing up at her door every now and again.

Carefully the blonde leads Frank to her couch, laying him down and trying to relax him like the wounded soldier he was...the wounded soldier he tried so hard not to be. She's about to retreat, give him as much privacy as one could on a couch in a New York apartment...but his plea stops her.

"....I'll stay," Karen promises, her voice soft before settling down on the floor next to him. "Ellison is making me take the week off. Something about it being mandatory- maybe he just needs a break from me, I don't know." A small smile is given a the thought. "So I met up with Foggy's girlfriend, Marci. We had brunch then did other girly things. Spa, nails- all the things- if you see her you'd understand. She's also got money, lots of it, which is why Foggy no longer lives in the slums of Hell's Kitchen, so she paid for everything...which I tried to decline to be polite, but the truth is my credit card couldn't take what we did. But if she ever wants a burger and beer then I'll cover that. It was nice though...I don't remember the last time I had a girls day. For too long I've been on my own and then Matt and Foggy came into the picture...then Ellison....then you. There is far too much testosterone in my life, don't you think?"

She reaches up then gently tugs the blanket up further over his shoulder. "Then I came back here, cleaned a little bit, then I got a knock on the door and this guy I know came in. He looked like he hadn't slept in years, but he's stubborn, and doesn't like to listen to what I tell him. So, I cooked him some food, and then made him lay on my couch. I still don't really know why he's here...but that's okay....he can sleep here. I want him to sleep here."

​       ▎ Even in his marriage to Maria Castle, there were few times she treated him the way Karen did, if only for the reason Frank put up a stern and strong presence in his wife's presence. It had always been abroad under the service of the United States government when his body and mind required tender moments. Upon returning home, Frank was typically full of vigor, fueled by a reunion with a family, to lay himself weak in front of his wife. Frank consoled Maria. It should have been that way. All the tenderness and gentility had been shot and beaten out of the Punisher, yet it should have still been he who comforted Karen now. Despite whatever twisted notion of antiquated gender roles he held, he could not deny it felt blissful being under her care. Deep down, he knew even someone the likes of him required benevolence, but only when she touched him did he realize strongly how much he craved it. Maria. Frank blinked, and Karen's face suddenly transformed into that of his deceased wife. His murdered wife. The Punisher squeezed his eyes shut and nodded feebly.

      ❝   Just . . stay right here and . . you can tell me about your day. Talk to me about anything. Please.  ❞   

His own voice sounded foreign to him. He had been vulnerable in Karen's presence before, yet this opened up another level of exposure which he had difficult coming to terms with.

A small laugh comes at his question, giving a small shake of her head. "Truth be told, I'm not the best person to ask. Sleep doesn't come the easiest to me either, but I think I have a cousin who drinks them- I can ask her." She gives a smile, trying to bring one of his own to his lips, though his exhaustion is too great.

When his hand retreats from her, Karen frowns lightly, sucking a gentle breath as she watches his sombering figure. When he stands, however, her hand quickly come to him, one on his arm the other on his back. "Frank-" she tries once again, but his next words silence her as she can feel her heart crack.

"...Frank.." Now she takes over, guiding his stumbling feet towards her couch, waiting until they reach it before helping him lower to the cushions. "Just lay back," Karen whispers, guiding him back to lay along the green seat, her hand then coming to softly smooth back his hair. "...I don't think Maria wants you to have any more punishment. I don't think she wants any of that for you...I think what she wants from you right now is to just close your eyes." She reaches for the the throw hanging near his feet then drapes it over him. "Tell you what, I'll give you ten minutes. If you're not out by then then I'll get the liquor out...and we'll treat it the old fashioned way."