someonesassassin

[someonesassassin]

The Punisher (2001-2003) #27

“Elektra has been doing the Punisher’s job-killing street scum before Frank Castle has the chance to do it. But why?” 

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[someonesassassin]

[someonesassassin]

there are worse members of the team to be paired with for a mission like this, at least johnny is pliable. she plays the reaction of each of their team members in her head, and the subsequent bloodbath to follow each pitiful performance. when elektra feels the weight of his arms around her body, the welcomed partner in her dance, she takes the moment to scan their surroundings. the suspicious enemy thrown by what appears to be a couple casually in love.

her hand cups his cheek, fingers effortless through his hair as if this is something practiced between them. she is not an actress, not a dancer, not a lover -- any memory of what she might have been or what-ifs too fleeting to linger on -- but she is very good at her job. "yes," she responds, although it is a soft sigh, it is an uncharacteristically placed smile, for anyone watching to buy, to eat, to question their initial instincts. her hair becomes a curtain as her head tilts her face towards him, "we need an out."

@someonesassassin asked:

[ PRETEND ]

Johnny blushed in surprise when Elektra planted herself right on his lap. She was a master assassin, so she was a lot better at this spy/undercover stuff than he was. Ross picked them for this mission, and he deferred to Elektra...she was the boss and Johnny was more than happy to follow her lead.

She wanted him to play along, to protect their cover? He'd do so gladly. The biker smirked, arms looping around her waist, both playing the part of two very affectionate lovebirds. Johnny, to his part, was enjoying the attention (pretend or not). Elektra was easy to work with...he'd take a mission with her any day over the rest of the Thunderbolts.

"Think they're buying it?" he murmured softly, his lips close to her ear for only her to hear.

[someonesassassin]

the-fearless-devil​:

The past is the past and he could not change what had already been written ⎯ but the future isn’t set in stone. Perhaps, the difference between them was optimism. Navie? Possibly. However, if he could let the past rest, then just maybe they might have a future, despite their drastic differences in professionally and personally.

Matthew, a believer, believed in forgiveness but always had an issue forgetting. Tonight he wanted to forget.

“I won’t…Come here.” He kissed her.

-

he is the indent in an old mattress of someone eager to climb back into bed at the end of the day; the familiar routine of trailing to the coffee pot in the morning to come awake, come alive.  in his hold, with his mouth against hers, elektra often feels as though she is waking for the first time, come back to life in a more honest way that coming back to life truly is.  it is the shape of his mouth, the slice of his jaw against her palms, beneath her fingertips; the press of his body that indent which fits her very shape.

succumbing to matthew is an inevitability, a homecoming.  everything changes, and even if he may change, he is still constant.

[someonesassassin]

Daredevil & Elektra by Matías Bergara.

[someonesassassin]

i was able to get access to this blog again, does that mean i have to spend money i don't have and read a shit ton of comics ??

[someonesassassin]

"it isn’t pride which brought them here.  it is cowardice,” she says, keeping her eyes focused ahead.  it is dark, shadowy, and decidedly not up to code, but elektra is sure they have both been in worse places; this feels all too standard.  “we will find something.”

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Deadpool ducked underneath a busted pipe, he did that half-jog-half-walk thing people do when they need to cross a busy street or catch up to a friend on the sidewalk.  “These guys don’t keep their abandoned bases up to code, do they? You really think we’re gonna find the information in here?”

[someonesassassin]

I see nothing of my mother in my face. She died the day I was born. She has never been anything more than photographs hanging on a wall. But my father’s face is carved into my memory. I see him everywhere I look. Except in the mirror. Instead, I see only reflections that belong to someone else.

[someonesassassin]

the-fearless-devil​:

His strongly stoic face couldn’t resist the half-baked smile creeping at the corner of his mouth.“ Catholicism will do that to you.” Stepping further from the shadows, the horned vigilante is face-to-face with his ex lover. He is reluctant at first, but his courage permits him to lean in and engulf his nose in her neck, stealing a whiff of her delicious scent.

“That nice to know,” he remarked huskily, nearly intoxicated by her scent.“ I don’t want to fight you anymore.” He much rather kiss her.

-

he makes it seem so easy to linger in the shapes of someone else she might have been were they not who they are so intrinsically to their cores.  she had been a lover once, and with his face pressed to her neck, the memory of it ghosts its way through her bones on an inspired dance of longing to the tune of what-ifs.  there is a moment where she might let herself lose what makes her as she is -- the grief, regret, the hardened life of she who is an assassin; not a woman, not a lover, though when his voice is low in his throat like that, she thinks how easy it would be to let it slide...

“don’t,” she says, tilting her head a bit so that she can look up at him.  their morality lay in different places, their stances in opposition are inevitable, but how easy it is to say,  “i do not want that either.”

[someonesassassin]

propertyofseagate​:

Cage had to wonder if this what is what like to be surrounded by a hornet’s nest. Such a sight behold was the assassin yet such catastrophic potential should one get too close. It had been such a time ago since Cage felt the physical threat of bodily harm.

“Nah, I ain’t,” he concedes.“ You a big girl and you can fend for yo'self. But that don’t mean I ain’t up for bustin’ fools who put they hands where it don’t belong. I’m doing this because I want to. Now how ‘bout you get some rest and we go investigate when the storm calms, yeah?” He suggested.

-

he is unshakable, and yet elektra does not expect less.  though she works better alone, she is not so foolish as to not understand the merit to cage’s help, and so she concedes.  its a small nod of consent, but acknowledgement all the same.  “i know where to find them,” she says, as she goes to take a seat on the nearest space to do so, drawing one knee up, hands clasped about her shin.  “they will continue their search for me before they return there.  our best option is to go at night.”

[someonesassassin]

Bill Sienkiewicz,Elektra.

[someonesassassin]

propertyofseagate​:

Cage, a mercenary in his past time, had a profound understanding of the business and how it operates. Though he prided himself to only accept ethical jobs, he was often both the hunter and the hunted. Mr. Hero-For-Hire. He understood all too well what she was going through.

Cage was silent during her testimony, back turned prepping her a cup of tea as the angry skies roared with thunder and heavy rains. It only seemed fitting.“ Here. Medicine.” He joked handing her the cup of tea.

“I ain’t surprised them punks failed to get the job done,” bringing the cup to his lips and sipping a few drops.“ You a straight nightmare to your opposition. Look…it’s clear as an elephant’s ass you don’t need no damn help but I’m comin’ with you to let these cats know what’s up.”

-

elekra looks at the offered cup, no reason to suspect it is anything but what he offers ( though she has not survived so long without being otherwise suspicious ).  she takes it and cradles the warmth between her hands; the sensation is welcomed.  

taking a sip from the tea, it does ease her some.  the adrenaline from a fight, however the outcome, even once the pain settles into bones, is still something to recover from.  the warmth of the tea helps; soothes, though she is still somewhat restless.  elektra does not revel in the compliments, she is more than aware of what she is.  “you aren’t responsible for me,” she tells him, “and i will not be responsible for you.”

[someonesassassin]

the-fearless-devil​:

All too often there’s an unforgiven scent lurking from the dark broken alleyways whilst the devil is in pursuit of his prey. The smell of panic, the sound of fearful lungs gasping for air, hearts burning, racing at a hundred miles per second. Tonight none of those emotions were in effect.

The vigilante knows her, knows she is privy to the fact he lurks nearby and uses the shadows as his ally. Stealthy as the gentle breeze over the Hudson, the fearless one steps to the light revealing first his face and then he is before her in all his glory.

“Olive oil.” His tone is neutral, but how he feels in the interior is anything but.“ Should I be?" 

-

“you have always carried burdens that were not yours to bare,” she says, knowing partly that her own troubles had had their fair share of weight upon matthew’s shoulders.  they are entwined in ways beyond what others suggests as fate, as destiny, and yet the pains that come from stepping too close are the same as walking willingly into the flames of a a fire.  sometime one must burn to know they’re still alive.  “i’m not here to give you more.”

not this time.  or, perhaps, not purposely.

[someonesassassin]

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their’s is a dance all too familiar that comes with it an ache.  silent footsteps in darkened shadows -- alleyways and rooftops and spaces in the in-between of all things -- less innocent than children on the school yard playing tag, but apt enough.  there are perhaps two people beyond herself she would recognize at the smallest give, and he is, without question, one of them.

but all dances must slow, all songs fade into a nothingness, which leaves only breathing to fill the silence.  she knows that he knows she is there.  shadows aren’t a cloak of fear, it just makes things simpler.  “you seem troubled, matthew.”

[someonesassassin]

[someonesassassin]

propertyofseagate​:

Though frustration began to manifest in the pit of his gut, Cage remained calm. He would to rock his fists against the punks who committed these violent acts against her but she wouldn’t give an inch to go on.

“Look, I get your warrior pride and all that other honor bullshit but if them jokers who took you for a ride come back- I think it’ll be a bit courteous to at least let the dude you’re staying with know what he’s up against, don’t ya’ think?”

-

warrior pride ??  perhaps there is some, in the slightest sense, but moreso elektra does not believe this needs to be bigger than what it is.  the attempt on her life will come again -- as it always does -- but she supposes this time is slightly different.

“there is a bounty on my head,” she says.  “it is a fool’s errand, but fools long to try their hand at anything that might recognize their name.  i could not tell you the names of the men who have tried, only that they have failed, and that i don’t plan to let this linger.”

[someonesassassin]

𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 & 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒

                                                     𝐀𝐍 𝐈𝐍𝐉𝐔��𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄                                       

“You’re dripping blood on the carpet.” “When I said scars are kinda sexy, I didn’t mean you should get one right away…” “Press that against the wound, I’m going to get the med kit.” “It’s bleeding quite badly.” “Oh God, what happened to you?!” “You’re covered in blood! Is it yours?” “Your head looks pretty bad. I’m sure it’ll need stitches.” “It’s going to hurt for a moment, but I’ll need to clean the wound.” “I’m so sorry this happened to you. But you’re safe now.” “That’s a pretty nasty bruise. Want some ice?” “Does it still hurt?” “I don’t think a band aid is gonna fix this…” “Whoa, hey, stay with me! You’re as white as a ghost. Don’t pass out.” “Damn, that must hurt. I’m sure there are some painkillers around here.” “You have to be seen by a doctor. This isn’t going to heal on its own.” “It looks broken. Can you move it at all?” “Here, lean on me. I’ll support you.” “I’m not going to leave you behind. If need be, I’ll carry you.” “I’m going to pick you up now, okay? Just hold on to me.” “Everything is going to be okay. Just hang in there.”

“I don’t feel so good.” “It’s seeping through the bandages.” “My head is throbbing. I think I have a concussion.” “I can barely breathe, it hurts so bad!” “It looks worse than it is. I’m sure it’ll be gone in a couple of days…” “You should see the other one.” “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t want your pity.” “It was my fault, really. I wasn’t paying attention and got hit in the face.” “Getting stabbed wasn’t really on my bucket list.” “I don’t think I can walk.” “Leave me behind, please. I’m just going to slow you down.” “Am I going to die?” “I can’t stop the bleeding.” “I think the bruise matches my eye color.” “Don’t touch it, please! It hurts.” “I don’t want to go to a hospital. I hate doctors!”