#ascnsion

[chernayavidua]

continued from here / @ascnsion

                 BIRTHDAY'S HAD NOT BEEN CUSTOMARY when she'd been growing up. they'd either been treated as any other day or had been marked by a small gift with no explanation attached. a book here, a pair of ballet shoes there. later in life, well into one of her many lives, it became a necklace here and an art piece there. capitalist country that america was, gifts with less and less sentimental value had been gifted to her. however, natasha realized, years later as friends and lovers had been outlived, that it wasn't the material things that mattered as much as creating memories. small meaningful gestures mattered more than some item gift wrapped in colorful paper.

                 ❛ you know me . ❜ the grin remains and only fades as she sets her purse on the table. unzipping it she digs around a bit for the lighter she carries, glancing at steve for a brief moment. ❛ you can't cut it unless you make a wish. ❜

[supcrfriends]

@ascnsion​​

It wasn’t so much the hours, but the minutes that passed so slowly while Barry sat in his cell. He stared at the carving of his father’s name on the wall, eyes fixed on the marks as he counted them over and over again. He’d made his own on the wall as, well as a tribute or something akin to that. . . Nimble fingers clasped his hands together as he sat back against the wall. Somehow his friends and family would get him out of this. They had to! Barry wasn’t sure exactly how that was going to happen but it was going to happen. He’d already ran Big Sir out of here, so he was just facing the music alone now. . . Iris was the only one that had actually come to see him during his time in here, so when he was informed that he had a visitor he jumped up from his bed and practically ran to the room. He didn’t run, though, since that was frowned upon. “Harry?” The look of confusion was pretty apparent on his face as he stepped up and picked up the receiver with a shaky hand. “I’m surprised to see you here.” He began. “Is Iris okay?” While that was the first thought in his head, he WAS happy to see Harry. “What’s going on? I know you’re not here just for a fun visit. Did something happen?” Am I getting out?                                           One could only hope!  He should be out there with his friends, saving the city instead of sitting here behind these bars that actually couldn’t hold him back. Waking up every morning he hoped that it was just some stupid dream, that DeVoe wasn’t really a psychotic villain. . . Reality was just much more disturbing than any dream that his brain could come up with. 

[notmyfatherssins]

Just a post to let people know that I promise I am slowly getting around to asks! College has gotten crazy (which I guess I should have expected with a Masters course), but I’m hoping that I should be able to get back to things soon. If I’ve tagged you in this, it means I  have ask(s) for you in my inbox that I am still planning to get to. As always, I appreciate everyone who sticks with me.

@apphrodite - Four items in askbox.

@rubiesintherough - Four items in askboxs.

@ascnsion - Two items in askbox.

@savagecuhnt - One item in askbox.

@garnishedarrogance - Two items in askbox.

[fferal-archive]

@ascnsion sent a meme: [ BLADE ] with bullseye.

Honestly, he should count Lester as generous right now. That serrated knife is just as likely to end up skewering his neck in half than it is just pressing hard at his fuzzy Adam's apple, as it is right now.

He's so fucking fast.

But he brushes off the hurt pride of getting caught, and leans back into Lester's body, neck bending back to croon, saccharine sweet.

"Gonna do away with me like one of your whores, Hawkeye? I know you know only one way to make a woman scream."

[fallencomrade]

𝙸𝙽𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙶  𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙾𝙽    ↦    ꭼꮇꮻꭲꮖꮻɴꭺꮮꮮꭹ ꮖɴꭲꭼɴꮪꭼ ꮲꭱꮻꮇꮲꭲꮪ. ( ACCEPTING ! ) 𝚂𝙾𝚄𝚁𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚈𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙼 : @ascnsion​​​​ 𝙵𝚄𝙻𝙻  𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙲𝚁𝙸𝙿𝚃   //    ❛  THEY’RE NOT WORTH SAVING.  ( F. CASTLE )

     𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋, 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄.   his  hands  were  shaped  to  DESTROY  ;;  preservation  certainly  is  not  the  weapon’s  forte  and  based  on  their  brief  collaboration,  he  does  not  believe  it  is  a  strong  suit  of  the  mercenary’s  either.      together,  they  are  the  thing  of   NIGHTMARES,      neither  flinching  at  the  trail  of  carnage  or  the  piles  of  bodies  left  behind  in  their  shadows.  the  facility  was  under  attack   ;;   anyone  who  did  not  serve  hydra  was  to  be  removed.  eliminate  the  enemy,  it  did  not  get  any  simpler  than  that.  

     𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐄.      before  him,  a  metal  door  jammed  shut  by  that  of  a  fallen  concrete  pillar.  there  is  a  small  window  pane  that  allows  him  to  see  into  the  room.  it  had  been  the  sound  of  their  screaming  that  first  caught  his  attention.        their  faces  -  unfamiliar  yet  familiar  -  causing  him  to  pause  in  his  step.         smoke  billows  from  the  cracks,  carrying  with  it  the  cries  of  those  trapped  inside.     a  scientist  pounds  her  fist  against  the  glass,  screaming,  crying  as  flames  lick  at  her  back.   the  building  trembles  once  again,  the  ceiling  threatening  to  buckle.              despite  the  chaos  all  around,  the  mercenary’s  words  do  find  their  way  to  his  ears.     the  soldier  however  does  not  react  to  them,  at  least  not  outwardly.  in  fact,  since  coming  to  a  stop,  he  has  not  moved  at  all.  

    beneath  the  hardened  surface  though,  those  words  resonate ...                                                                      they’re  not  worth  saving ...      

     ❛  help  me !    the  door  won’t  open !  ❜  the  scientist  screams,  choking  on  fear  and  smoke.  the  concrete  has  created  a  barrier,  trapping  the  bodies  of  those  inside  the  room.  there  are  others  behind  her  -  doctors,  fellow  scientists,  suits,  strike  members  -  all  HYDRA.  he  has  the  strength.  he  can  easily  blast  through  the  blockage.  instead,  the  soldier  stands   -  still  and  silent  -   staring  into  the  panicked  eyes  of  the  woman  begging  for  his  help.  the  words  twist  inside  his  mind,  taking  their  own  shape  and  form,  evolving.        they’re  not  worth  saving.    leave    them.         

     CHOICE  -   what  a  disastrous  dilemma.  proven  detrimental  to  a  mind  such  as  his.  he  stumbles,  struggles,  hesitates.            on  the  outside,  he  appears  in  tact,  silent  and  steady    -    but  on  the  inside,    his  mind  threatens  to  collapse  in  on  itself.      he  finds  himself  paralyzed.     he  knows  what  he  should  do,   what  programming  dictates.   that  much  is  clear,        but  the  man’s  simple  words  brought  with  them  an  idea  the  soldier  would  have  never  considered  had  it  not  been  planted  there  by  someone  else.    now,  there  is  something  else  wriggling  inside  his  mind ...         a  VIRUS  threatening  the  code  embedded  into  his  brain ...   WANT.    he  knows  what  he  should  do,  but  what  does  he  want  to  do ... ?    WANT  ?    a  weapon  does  not  want.   a  weapon  does  not  choose ...  he  wants...  he  wants.  he  wants.    they’re  not  worth  saving.  leave them.  let  them  die.  

     he  blinks,  swallows  and  exhales.  the  mask  fits  tight  around  his  face,  hiding  the  bottom  half  of  his  expression.  the  female  slams  her  palm  against  the  glass  again  and  screams  something  else,  but  her  words  go  unregistered.        his  mind  is  far  too  full  at  the  moment.    eyes  lose  focus  for  a  moment,  dipping  down  -  open  but  not  seeing  the  world  around  him.   they’re  not  worth  saving.   the  scars  may  have  healed,   but  he  can  still  feel  the  burn  of  restraints  around  his  wrist,  his  ankles,  his  neck   ;;   can  feel  their  tools   -  knives,  scalpels,  saws  -   drilling  into  his  flesh.     leave  them.     remembers  the  electricity,  the  ice,  the  heat  pouring  through  him.  let  them  die.  needles  plunged  deep  into  his  veins.  hands,  everywhere.       let  them  die.     he  wants.     they  deserve  it.    

     his  eyes  dim.  it  is  barely  anything  more  significant  than  a  flicker,  a  whisper  of  sadness  hiding  beneath.  eventually  he  turns  his  head  and  glances  at  the  other  man  with  those  empty,  vacant  eyes  tinged  with  horror,  pain,  and  sadness,  as  if  to  say  -  YOU ARE RIGHT.    —  but  a  weapon  does  not  speak.   a  weapon  does  not  choose.

     ❛  soldier,  open  the  fucking  door !  ❜    a  man  has  pushed  his  way  forward,  passed  the  frail  scientist  -  and  his  voice  breaks  through  everything  else,     words  sharpened  into  that  of  a  COMMAND.   a  higher  up  maybe,  someone  with  knowledge  on  proper  handling  of  the  asset.  it  works.  while  his  expression  remains  devoid  of  any  emotions,  his  body  is  automatic.   metal  arm  slams  into  the  concrete  pillar   -   once,  twice,  three  times   -   again,  until  the  concrete  cracks  and  crumbles  away,   freeing  the  door.    the  people  inside  spill  out  into  the  hallway,  coughing  and  gagging  -  running  for  the  exits.  no  one  bothers  to  help  the  female  scientist  who  has  fallen  to  the  ground,  limp  and  unconscious.       

                 they’re  not  worth  saving.                     no.                   a  weapon  does  not  choose.                   a  weapon  does  not  want.                   when  they  fashioned  him,  they  relieved  him  of  such  burdens.

[secondhandmckie]

❛ i don't need a spaceship to show you an 'out of this world' experience. ❜ / noh-varr

Pick-Up Lines

The laugh bubbles out of her--she's surprised and delighted at the unprompted pick-up, but even more that this particular attempt would have likely worked. If Noh had wandered up to her at a bar, said that exact line, Molly would've likely continued the conversation, even if only to poke fun at the line itself. Luckily, Noh wasn't serious, and he wasn't attempting to pull her, so it was all in good fun. Right?

"Hey, that one's pretty good!" She clapped him on the shoulder, still giggling to herself. What could she say? She loved a bad joke. Though part of her wondered if he understood just why it was so funny to her.

"How's this one?" Molly adopted her best impression of a flirtatious expression. "Baby, the lack of gravity ain't the only thing that'll sweep you off your feet."

[perfectdcath]

@ascnsion said ❝ small world, isn’t it? it’s a small world. ❞ stranger things sentence starters

She's got blood on her lips, and it tastes of metal and salt; Elektra wipes her mouth, and then wipes her blade, wetting the red material of her outfit. His presence is half forgotten until he speaks, and she looks over to him, only a little judgement in her eyes as she glances at the gun - useful though they may be, people too often became reliant on them.

"Painfully small," couldn't so much as stab a man through the neck without the tip of her sai coming out the other side and poking some old acquaintance she'd rather not see. And he's no exception.

"Whatever business you have here, it's done," Elektra says, not a modicum of asking in her tone. "This is my job, I don't want you getting in the way," she's already pissed he'd blown out the brains of her lead, she had questions she wanted answered, and he was of little use to her as a cooling body on the floor.

[shinebrightsweetdove]

starter for ascnsion

—✹ SYLVIA found herself yet again in the universe of Marvel--or at least some subset. Since it had been fractured, anything was really possible. So far, she avoided being detected by anyone who wanted to have another member to a hero team-up. Instead, she kept her abilities on the side until she knew when she was needed--she did have her Dove suit and weapons ready when it would come to it. 

Dressed simple but feminine, Sylvia found herself closing the back of her delivery truck when she heard something nearby. Instead of jumping or grabbing for pepper spray, she opened her delivery truck and got one of her ready made meals and a bottle of water. Good deeds never slept anyways. 

Sylvia took a step around the corner, her pink sneaker accidentally dipping into a puddle. She looked down only to notice her shoe didn’t step in water. It was blood. Her large green eyes snapped upwards to find a man bleeding out. She ran over to the stranger, food and water still in hand until she could bend down next to him. 

“Not your typical Saturday, bud?” she asked, her tone soft as she set down the food items. “Okay, just stay still, I can help you.” 

[sevenbulletsavior]

👀 with dex.

SELECTIVELY ACCEPTING! 

Send 👀 for my muse to compliment yours

“Benjamin.” Her voice was even, calm, the glass of wine in hand swirling absently as she looked out over the cityscape. The chaos of a New Year ringing in brought out some of the best and worst people to the city, but Karen felt that her presence would not be necessary for once and thus her time was spent in the quiet of her home. She looked to the well-dressed man, smile easy, soft, almost adoring as she looked at him. “I don’t think I mention often enough just how lucky I am to have you by my side. Without you, without your skills, I would simply be another one of the mindless droves living my life here without purpose.”

[goreverine-archive1]

@ascnsion sent a meme: 💭 / for Remy and Bullseye

( remy ) 💭 I can’t fucking believe Laura started hanging out with him again. What, all this effort I put in to ‘repairing my character’ and ‘not being cruel to people’ and she still would rather hang out with him than her own brother? Honestly. I can steal shit and wear purple, too.

( lester ) 💭 Oh, yeah. I know that look on his face; forget about the meeting. Come on, you bald fuck. If you’re planning to off this bitch, I want in.

[gloriousxdarkness]

She's a ten, but she only has [eyes] for the devil of hell's kitchen.

{ She's a Ten, but... } — @ascnsion

      Few would call love a flaw, and at first it doesn’t feel like one... but then it does. A major one. An area where she’s so compromised it takes putting a steel cage around it and pretending it doesn’t exist to be the hard-boiled torpedo she needs to be. Nothing tastes more like weakness than Matt, and Elektra loathes that about herself. Resents him, like that’s fair. 

     “From a man who wears zeroes on his forehead.” A calm, if terse, response. A few quicker rebuttals were killed before they left her throat as to not give his twisted mind any ideas about fixating on her eyes. “You come as advertised to the world every day, Lester.” Triple loser.

[supcrfriends]

@ascnsion​​ asked: You’re wrong. You think you’re right. And that makes you dangerous. / Harry

His lips formed a thin line as he stared at Harry for a moment. "So, what do you think I should do then? I don't hear you offering any solutions." Barry shook his head and laughed almost bitterly. "I am the only one that's trying to do anything here. Cisco and Caitlin are too wrapped up in trying to get Killer Frost back and Iris is helping Joe. That pretty much leaves you and I and I don't hear you giving any constructive criticism, it's always negative. Frankly, I think the way that you're approaching the situation is wrong, but you think you're so much smarter than I am so of course you're not going to admit that you're wrong even if you are."   He finally took a breath after a long winded response. "So, just go ahead and get out whatever you think I'm doing wrong and we'll just get that out of the way before we go any further." 

[lost-and-hound]

@ascnsion​

Being a private investigator in the city of New York means Fiona sees her fair share of strange and bizarre. Especially with her abilities. And while she tries to steer clear of trouble -- not taking on clients that are obviously bad news, only sticking to what her job entails, not sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong -- sometimes trouble finds her anyway. Most of the time, that means not picking up her work phone when certain numbers call or keeping a baseball bat by the door. But this time... this time involves the FBI.

Her stomach is in knots the whole walk over to the Midtown police station, her lower lip nearly raw from her chewing at it ever since she’d gotten the call to come in to answer questions. Apparently one of her former clients was the most recent in a slew of abductions. She of course remembers the woman; not much younger than her, pretty and kind and completely broken up about her cheating boyfriend. It was never easy to show the photographs in those cases. Fiona had assured her she was better off on her own.

At first, she’s met by an officer. But then he leads her further into the precinct to a solitary room and she tries her best not to feel like a caged animal, even as her shoulders twitch when the door opens and a young man she assumes to be an agent steps in. 

[fferal-archive]

❛ How about I treat you to some of the freshest sushi around? Raw and amazingly juicy. By the way, [sushi] is what I call my dick. ❜ / Deep

There's a real second of confusion, here, where Daken's brow is furrowed as he stares at the too-famous Deep.

This is really a terrible ethnicity-based pick-up line, right? What does he even mean by 'juicy'? Does he know that comparing dicks to food objects doesn't work? It just sounds mealy and unappetizing. Does he want me to bite his dick? He does, doesn't he? I'm thinking about it. Is that my reputation, now?

"Shhh. Shhhhhh." Daken's hand reaches out, index finger coming to rest on the Deep's lips. "Yeah, yeah, sure. I'm game, but I have a huge fetish for not talking while taking dick. It's non-negotiable."

[secondhandmckie]

❛ Okay. I think I've got this. I've been researching this, and, no, you can't laugh at that. Are you a block of cheese because I have the urge to eat you.. at all hours of the night. How was that? ❜ / Noh-Varr

The Gift of a Pick-Up Line

She can't help it--Molly laughs, and hard. It isn't as though the line is particularly clever or too funny, and the delivery left much to be desired. It just felt like...the way he said the words, so earnestly. It was obvious that he hadn't been exaggerating the research into pick-up lines, and he was doing his best to understand the cadence. He was speaking a new language, and she couldn't help but find it...charming, if that was the best word.

"I've never been so thrilled to be compared to cheese before." She teased, a hand over her belly as it ached from laughter. "I guess in that way, the line worked. I don't think it's ready for the bars just yet, mind you, but congratulations! You're one step closer to pulling. Ah, bringing somebody home. If you want."

[atimebombarcarchive]

SEND ME ♥ AND I’LL WRITE SOME POSITIVITY FOR YOU. Bonus: you can add an URL to your ask message if you want me to write positivity for someone else! MEME

Anonymous asked: ♥ @ascnsion​

SO here I am scrolling your blog and wow. How do people follow so many different comics? My brain can barely keep up with the media we get on film and tv half the time. It’s literally amazing how you can write so many different iterations of the same characters because they all are SO different. ALSO I just started the boys and I love the Deep so much (I know he’s a dick I don’t care) so like seeing someone write him is absolutely fantastic because I feel like everyone I see hates him. Maybe that’s because we’re supposed to? No idea. I haven’t gotten very far. BUT beyond WHO you write and how you keep up with characters, JUST your writing alone is fantastic. Just reading a few of your ask replies and threads is enough to show me that you genuinely have a flair for writing but, more than that, that you really seem to LOVE writing and that shows in your character development and sentence structures. It’s really, really beautiful.