#I am legitimately tweaking out here I have so much fucking shit to do and my laptop is NOT loading it.

[lord-ofthe-frogs]

Fuck fuck fuckity fucking fuck fuck fuuuuuuuckkkkkkkkkkkk. Fuck. Bro. Fuck.

[the-blackest-spider]

Sooo uuuuuh... Rufus's reaction was a bit harsh don't you think? I mean you were joking right?

I’m actually gonna take this one, not my muse.

To start, I’m sure this is a legitimate question and not anything else, and it’s appreciated! As is all the interest in my stuff, it makes my day really. Thank you. Because usually I don’t get much attention like this in my ask box and while that’s not why I’m here, it’s still nice to get it all the same, so please keep asking questions and reading the stuff I have the privilege to write with the amazing people who have deemed me worthy of their time!

Now to answer. No. Rufus’s reaction was not harsh or overacting or anything else but exactly what it should have been. How he should of reacted because that’s how he felt and feels. I want that and I appreciate the fact said Rufus’s mun didn’t hold back or down play or anything like that their muse’s reaction. And even if he had reacted differently, it still would’ve been just as perfect.

Was Natasha joking? Yes and no. Like I have stated somewhere on the mass of info on her blog, she’s a button pusher. She’s going to say and do things sometimes to get reactions and sometimes those reactions are going to not be good for her at all, as they should be. Like we all are capable of, Natasha sometimes opens her mouth and inserts foot because as calculated as she is and all the things that’s been done to her, she is still, in fact human. Everyone has moments when they don’t think before they speak and she is not exempt from that.

And for the record, she might bristle a little when Rufus is all ‘I own you’, but she doesn’t mind it, until of course she finds out the truth at least in this verse we’re currently discussing.

Also, she is damn lucky really that he’s allowed her dalliances with Sephiroth prior to everything going south. Because yes, Rufus DOES own her, after all his company created her, even if at the time it was under his Father’s thumb. And up until Nibelhiem, he owns Sephiroth too. So in a variety of ways, what’s going to go down, has been a long time coming.

Rufus Shinra is pissed and tired and I am here for it, even though he’s going to shoot my muse within an inch of her life and she’s luckily that���s all he’s going to do.

And essentially, Natasha is betraying her family. She’s acting irrational, as she should finding out the truth, just as Sephiroth did. And of course that is not going to be sunshine and roses and the way my muse is the fact she likes to do something and come to find out it was for a specific reason other, I’m pretty sure this was a way to grab attention so she could get what’s coming over with, because she knows it’s not going to go unnoticed that she let Sephiroth go free, she’s not naive. In fact at some point I was going to go and message Rufus’s mun anyways and bring it to their attention because she shouldn’t get away with it.

And is this going to make others angry and disappointed in her? Yes. THEY SHOULD BE. The Turks are a FAMILY and Rufus is a part of it and they already lost so damn many in the aftermath of Before Crisis, and then everything with the new Avalanche, freaking Plate Fall and in this verse Reno straight up dying, but being brought back from death by the will of the Whispers… and now Tseng barely alive and Natasha lets the person responsible go? Yeah, she fucked up even though again, her reaction to everything Sephiroth showed her was justified. She could’ve reacted differently, but she didn’t and she was absolutely aware of what she was doing. She made a choice and now she has to live with and almost die for the consequences of her actions.

Now, before you ask, does this mean this verse isn’t going to be fun times and antics anymore? No. I don’t play timeline fixed, which means fun things can still happen prior to all of the shit hitting the fan. And from here, after Natasha does get her ass handed to her by Rufus, who knows what will happen. Clearly, obviously she cannot be a Turk anymore, she doesn’t expect that nor do I, it doesn’t make sense. But given we’re playing with canon situations and tweaking them as we want (because that’s how rp works yo) there may come a time in the future when she will still be there for Rufus and the Turks even though they rightly don’t trust her anymore and even possibly hate her. Family is still family sometimes even when you’re estranged.

But anyhow I look forward to where this all goes and I really, really appreciate everyone I get blessed to write with. BUT I do gotta give a special shoutout to folks in this verse, because it’s so damn awesome and perfect and y’all are amazing for putting up with the crazy of it and thank you for giving me both fun and feels/pain and everything I enjoy. ♥

[readbythestarlight]

c2e88

Taliesin is so confused by this ad lol

Where is Laura?

The groans xD

Laura's?? Not here?? I mean I'm glad she's at the game awards but THIS IS SUCH A BIG WEEK STORY WISE

Boy we've just started and I'm already ready to die

[[MORE]]

I only just caught it just now but are the CA saying they recovered the beacon that was stolen? Aka the one the M9 returned to Xhorhas already? Or a different one?

The Bright Queen gave them a house and the best the empire can do is a cozy inn? Lame.

(I was always more pro-Dynasty than Empire but it's pretty much set now.)

Didn't even pay for their dinner?? Rude.

Cad: "I've had to learn new words for what happens to me now."

The Dynasty: "We cannot afford to 100% trust you but you have done us a great service so here is a house and a symbol to show you have the favor of our Queen."

The Empire: "You did us a great service but also fuck you here's a hotel and no meal and also if you don't do this thing for us we'll charge you as traitors even though only two of you are actually from the Empire."

lol the hotel workers are funny tho

Empire people? Cool. Empire rules? Fucking suck.

Nat20 for free stuff xD

F: "who's the grossest?"

Cad: "I was swallowed."

Y: "I haven't had a shower in months."

F: "oh! God! What!?"

Cad: "You've won first place."

Y: "Oh, no, I wasn't trying to like..."

J: "IM GOING FIRST!"

I'm worried about Caleb

Snuggling his cat and thinking over his trauma </3

Laura just left the awards show omg

Also the way that Travis looked at her like heart eyes and Laura being like "hey baby ;)"

She looks hot by the way

Yasha paying Fjord back from MONTHS ago is sweeeeet

The book? What's the book? I don't remember?

"Is there a chair...?"

"There is."

"Kill it with fire!"

Oh boy here we go

"And I think we need to work with him...?" I don't like that and I don't think you do he's a liar and a manipulator and a piece of shit

But I understand his point because they are in the worst potion right now

Cad: "if he even looks at you sideways we will not leave enough of him to be found."

Goddamn Caduceus. I love him so much.

Cad: "Well, what I mean was we will do all we can to keep you safe. Is... what I meant."

They're being very serious about this and I'm so glad

Well okay they WERE being serious...

Lol Beau with this teenager is so funny and adorable

I'm glad they're not all sleeping alone

Jester is all sad that Beau doesn't want to double up :(

The B/J/Y shippers just went wild lol

F to C: "if you want to finish this personally... let me know." Thank you Fjord

My old Widofjord shipping heart is happy

Omg Cad handing over the symbol of the Wildmom and telling Fjord he's doing well on his own IM HAVING A LOT OF FEELINGS TONIGHT Y'ALL

Oh boy Yasha dream

I'm emotional

Like crying

Sure this guy does something neat with doors but doES HE FLOAT??

I miss Essek

The only mage with a tower I trust is Yussah and it is NOT this guy

Of course Trent is the one who confirmed it had been found

It's definitely trapped somehow

I don't like that they have to go somewhere that Trent decides

WHISPERS

he's a shifty fucker right we all know he is

Double whispers

Lol meeting in the Happy Fun Ball

I was gonna say the Forge

Jester wants to have it at Traveler con xD

Jester is weirding him out and I love it

God sure have this very serious possibly war ending meeting on The Ball Eater sure

They're disasters

I can't decide how I feel about him and I want to hear the results of the whispers

Oh no I'm worried about Yasha

Okay... so he's helping hide Yasha that's good, but is he also gonna hold that over them?

I hope Trent looks at Caleb sideways so the M9 can cut him into pieces

I feel like this guy is meant to be the Empire version of Essek but he's got nothing on Hot Boi

In a dense forest under a bunch of trees and a tower in the middle of nowhere

Oh fuck the sanitorium oh god oh fuck someone immediately check on Caleb

Trent did that on purpose

Hey Cad remember when you said y'all were gonna tear Trent apart if he tried to hurt Caleb? It's time to start ripping.

I haaaaaate this

I'm still trying to decide if Caleb legitimately snapped or if something was done to him

I want to crawl through my screen and strangle Trent myself

Someone please stay between Caleb and Trent at all times

So... nobody in the empire questions why Trent Ick-athon has a laboratory in a sanitorium huh. Like that doesn't ring any bells?

Also fuck it's Edowulf

Astrid's gonna come in to try and throw Caleb off isnt she

Liar liar pants on fire every word out of your mouth is a lie you vile don't of a biiiitch

WHISPERSSSS

he's a liar liar liar

Or he's telling half the truth

So the tripod... prevents it from working?

God he's such a condescending fuck I hate him

I haaaaate him and I hate that he's playing it so cool and calm because that makes Caleb seem like the unreasonable one which is brilliant of him but it just makes me loathe him even more

Oh god Caleb please roll well

Fuck fuck fuck I hate him fuck someone GET BETWEEN THEM

I feel gross and I'm not even in the room with Trent ugh

This tense standoff between Caleb and Trent is physically fucking me up my skin is crawling

Also Nott touched it and nothing happened

Eowulf is one of Trent's "favorite" and and he's looking at Caleb like a creep

Even if I don't trust him I appreciate Ludinus stepping in to cut the tension

Beau trying to trip him upppppp I love her

Alright time to get them out of there Ludinus

Shut the fuck up Trent you state away from both Caleb AND Yasha

C: "Wulf. It's good to see you again."

Eowulf: "it's good to see you too. It's been some time. You look good."

I haaaaaaaaate that they're all being so calm and semi-friendly because again it makes Trent and his ilk look like the reasonable ones

Ludinus: "I can always deal with Trent after the fact."

Y: "Let us know when you do that. We would like to help." Damn fucking straight

Essek scrys because he's worried about them and he pops in just in time to hear Jester insulting his teleporting Lol

I get the feeling Matt is tweaking the time of Traveler Con a bit because he doesn't want Jester to feel pressured to interrupt important things

Is the Wildmom illegal in the Empire?

Ha Fjord impressed Ludinus nice

L: "it's... entirely off-putting how disarmingly charming you are. I don't know how to handle it." That is the funniest thing anyone has ever said about Jester

J: "are you alright Caleb?"

C: "I don't know."

Y: "I don't like him at all."

Everyone else: "same/oh god no."

Okay Wildmom is illegal time to hide your shiny thing

Cad: "I have never seen another person walk so daintily around the truth."

See every time Caleb talks about how Trent gave "private lessons" my skin crawls it just draws too many parallels to creepy creepy shit

Yasha is gonna be good for Caleb here, they both understand what it's like to be used and controlled and manipulated

So like Trent was THERE and if he saw that Caleb knew about the beacons then he's gonna know that somehow they were involved with the beacon disappearing

Oh she's creepy

Cad gonna buy the femur flute lol

The pranksters gonna get that glue oh lord

Yasha gets a bone harp and she and Caduceus start the most unnerving band ever and I for one am THRILLED

Don't they still need to fetch something for the three kobolds in a trench coat? Let alone for Pumat and now this woman lol

Pride silk.... oh dear it's gonna be mutant bugs

Called it

Three silk worms good luck bringing those back

Matt's like WOOO fight tournament hell yeah!

Y'all should go take downtime in Xhorhas in the Xhorhaus and talk to Essek about all this

....I just really miss Essek guys please

Liam O'Brian you will NOT let Caleb sneak off on his own to go see Astrid you CANNOT ajslajkssksk

This episode didn't go as painfully/badly as it could have but it still stressed me out a lot and I'm still worried about Caleb and Trent Ick-athon can choke and if Caleb really goes go off on his own I will scream like baby PLEASE

God now we have to wait a whole week IS IT THURSDAY YET

[ur-mom-kayn]

Loyalty Chapter 3: Revelation

Kayn Pov

When Kayn woke up, he felt the same way he did two years ago. His whole body was fucked up. However, he found himself again in a soft and comfortable bed. But not being. Looking closely, he recognized the room in which he was. It was clearly Master Zed's room. But what was he doing here? As far as he could, the young acolyte turned his head to the right, where Zed's desk was. Just as he already thought, a man sat with his back turned to him in a chair. Seemed like he was writing something. The light in the room was very dimmed so Kayn could venture to guess. Nevertheless, he could swear that the man wore short, white hair. Was that really his master? Without a mask?

As he continued to turn to him, a violent pain ran through his whole body. "Nghh!" He said unintentionally. "Kayn? Are you awake?" The boy had no doubt. The voice usually sounded rougher and more echoing through the mask, but it was definitely Zed. "Master, why am I in your room?" Kayn could feel the bandages all over again. Was he his savior? So he hoped.

Zed got up from his chair and started to turn to Kayn. He quickly turned his head away and closed his eyes. Somehow he did not feel right to face his Master. "Kayn, why are you turning away?" He could feel his Master approaching him and sitting down on the edge of the bed. "You do not have a mask on." Kayn could hear a slight snort from his master. "If that's your only problem, I'm glad." "Sorry Master, but I do not deserve it."

"No Kayn. I'm the one who did not deserve you." For a moment he had to swallow hard. He understood nothing. Where the sudden change of mood. What did his Master want to do? "I do not understand ..." "Then let me explain it to you,  Kayn. I ordered the torture. I wanted to test your loyalty. And frankly, I have never felt so shitty. Such a good student like you does not deserve a master like me. "

"M-master?" Kayn's voice trembled. It was a shock. He would never have thought that the man he so trusted could do such a terrible thing to him. Everything just a test? "How? H-how did I give you a reason to distrust me? I have always been loyal to you. I have always executed every command. So please tell me the reason." Kayn had to really pull himself together. He did not want to show weakness. Neither sad nor angry. He could not explain it to himself, but he still trusted him.

"It was not something you did wrong, it was me. You are very similar to me. That's all. " "That's all? That's one reason to torture your beloved student?!" For a moment Kayn could not control himself. In all honor, but does his master still have all the cups in the cupboard? "Well, that's not all. I'll tell you. A few years ago, I killed my master so I could steal the chest. I was worried that you would do the same. That's why the whole shit. I'm sorry Kayn. I have failed. I just wanted to let you know that you have my fullest confidence now. "

"And what if I'm craving revenge now?" "You do not. I understood that now too. Please forgive me Kayn." Master Zed was right. He was not angry or resentful. Not to him. Even if he wanted to, his hatred stopped at Zed. He adored him too much. And somehow he could understand him. Kayn was the evil in person. So why should not he deceive his master? Very easily. Because he loved him. Since the first day. Zed had something that fascinated him. No matter what it was, he would always be faithful to him.

"Kayn? Could you please say something again?" The boy only realized after he had regained his voice that he was quite absorbed in thought. "If you still trust me and want to stay true to me, then please look me in the face." Suddenly Kayn's heart beat a few bars higher. He could not believe it. His Master asked him to face him? He really insisted? For a moment the boy quarreled with himself. For one, he was afraid of what to expect, but for another, his master considered it as a vote of confidence.

Somewhat pained, he turned back to the other side and opened his eyes. He had to blink a few times until he got a sharp picture. On the bedside table some candles were lit, so he had good visibility. His gaze shifted from Zed's thigh to his upper body and a little further into his face. As he had guessed, his master wore short, snow-white hair. He had an amazingly beautiful face. Something scarred, but that did not break his leg. The most visible was one vertical on the lip and left eye and one horizontal on the bridge of the nose.

But that was not the most noticeable thing about his face. Kayn just could not resist a grin. "What is it?", His master asked almost annoyed. "Oh, nothing. You look just fucking young." "Really? What better do you not think? You're really killing me, boy." My boy. That almost sounded wrong without a mask. "Well, as a dad I can not look at you anymore. All at most as a big brother. How old are you?" "I'm just 22 years old. The Order exists not that long. What did you expect? "

So 22 was already fucking young. Amazing that he was so strong. Somehow, Kayn was even more impressed with his master than before. "So with the mask, I thought about the mid 30th. Without, I could even give you the 19 years. But seriously, Master, who were the two of them and why did they even enjoy it?" Zed's gaze became more serious again and he jammed aside. It was the first time he could really see his feelings. And it killed Kayn. He did not want to see that sadness in his fire-red eyes.

"Hm ... the pigs really enjoyed it? I'll have a serious talk with them. So I told them that you knew the hiding place and they should get it out of you. They really have no idea. This made it very close to a real scenario. However, I have forbidden them to rape or mutilate you. That would go too far. Therefore only punches and light cuts. I know, not exactly encouraging or even a justification. I'm so sorry. I should have really trusted you. I wish I could turn back time. "

As good as he could, Kayn tried to sit up so he could hug his Master. It hurt like hell, but he did not care. Zed just should not be too worried about guilt. "All right, master. Let's just take it as a ritual of reception and hook it all together, okay?" Zed returned his hug and stroked his tied hair. At last a nurse checked that it was impossible to sleep node-free for a certain length of hair.

Kayn enjoyed this closeness to his master. Then he noticed for the first time how incredibly good his counterpart smelled. He almost did not want to let him go. This moment between them could last forever. "Kayn, why are you so good to me? How did I earn it?" "Quite simply. You gave me a home. A reason to live. And above all, strength. I do not need more. Until recently, you've always treated me well. I always get a hot meal and enough to drink. I have enough friends here and I'm generally very happy. And most importantly, although I'm one of your best men, you've never sent me to war or on a mission. You renounce my talent. That is really impressive."

At the last set, Zed had to laugh diabolically. As he always did when he cracked a joke in his eyes again. Unfortunately, Kayn said it dead serious. He really counted himself among the best. However, it did not bother him when Zed made fun of him again. The main thing he was not sad anymore. Well, the man behind the iron mask was just a human with feelings. Maybe that's why he was hiding. Or he felt too beautiful for this world. Kayn's thoughts darted in the wrong direction again.

After Zed calmed down, he broke away from the embrace and helped Kayn lie down again. He covered him up again and got up. "Hey master. If I rest here in your bed, where do you sleep then?" That was a most legitimate question. "Oh, we can find a solution. The bed is big enough for 3 people. Let's just tweak two." "How? You and me on a bed? Would not it be better if you carried me into my room?" "No." Zed's voice sounded very serious. As if he had said something wrong. "I want to take care of you personally. No other acolyte, only me. I owe you a lot and I hope you accept my services as a nurse. "

A dream came true for the boy. His master really wanted to take care of him personally. Did that also mean that he had doctored him and ... "Master? Did you braid my hair?" Even in the faint light, Kayn could see that his master was blushing a bit. "I realized that it's not that easy. Sry, if it's crap." Kayn felt his way along the pigtail, realizing it was not a masterpiece. In the end, no matter. Alone the thought counted. The young Akolyth hoped for this event, a future friendship between master and student. Although they were still far away, Kayn was only 12, but maybe when he turns 18.

Even though his master was currently losing his role, he did not lose his authority over the boy. He liked the nice Zed anyway, rather than the strict teacher who constantly ignored him. He enjoyed the attention. Since the few scratches and stains did not matter. As long as Zed would not treat him shitty again as soon as he gets well again, the torture was forgiven and forgotten.

Zed Pov

One hour later, his young pupil finally fell asleep. Zed did some cautioning paperwork before closing time. Unfortunately, he did not do much, because his mind was on Kayn. He was deeply impressed by him. After all the shit he still held to him. Somehow he had hoped that the boy would chat. But no. The idiot did not tell the lie any further. As a precaution, Zed had put a dummy under his bed, but even he did not try to steal it. The only way to test his loyalty was by trying to squeeze the secret out of him. A fatal mistake, since Kayn is silent like a stone. Respectively his attacker provoked and insulted.

Actually, it was not planned for Kayn to escape. He wanted to inform him about the situation the same evening. But he was not there. Instead, he found a broken chair and a fresh trail of blood. Not far from the track, he found Kayn fainting on the floor. Immediately he took him on the quickest way to his room and looked after him as best he could. He did not want anyone to hear about this scenario. That's why Kayn had to stay in his room. Zed was not a doctor, but luckily Shen had taught him first aid. That fool insisted that he could at least get the basics.

Fortunately, he was able to retrieve this repressed knowledge. Kayn actually deserved real medical help, but as he said, no one should get wind of torture. He explained to the two idiots who took the job that everything was just fake. Kayn was innocent. His knowledge was falsified anyway. When the two learned the truth, they got a pang of conscience. Zed begged them to shut up and best keep away from Kayn. Should he recognize their voices, there could be serious consequences. The two would not stand a chance against Kayn even in a handicap match. And knowing his devilish side, Zed believed he would punish them with death. But maybe he was wrong again in Kayn. He really had to stop comparing him to himself. After all, he was far more funnier than Zed. The reasons he was loyal are a joke to Zed. The boy had really low expectations. In addition, he was allowed to take Kayn anyway only with 16 years according to ionic law. But of course, he should calmly believe that he renounces his talent out of love and care.

Zed put down his pen and went to his dresser. He quickly dressed in more comfortable clothes and went to bed to Kayn. The boy was so sweet moved slightly to the side so that he was no longer in the middle. Amazingly,  for Zed, it was not an overcoming to show him his face. He was ashamed of his scars. It was a sign of weakness to him, but the boy could only look for one thing, his age. He would never have expected his reaction like that. Kayn seemed happy and relieved. According to the motto: My master is not an ugly old man.

That he deleted him from the father list was okay for Zed. Then he was his big brother now. With 10 years difference much more realistic. Nevertheless, Zed could not help but behave like a guardian. Even if he was obedient, he still needed a lot of education. But all with his time. In the next few days, he can still be his cool brother. With this intent, Zed cuddled up behind him and took his arms before falling asleep.

[hencethebravery]

This is my first time writing any of these characters, so please bear with me. Batten down the hatches, etc. etc. This takes place after The Defenders but before the new Punisher series. Basically a Karen Page character study with some Kastle because I love their dumb butts. Warning for swears and canon-typical violence.

+ There's something about women and vengeance. Some unknown, yet to be written variable that will never see the light of day. Maybe there’s even a list of women on a document somewhere; each one followed by another name with no substance in between. She’s not sure she’ll ever publish it—it’d have to be an op-ed or something. It’s not really newsworthy, but it does feel relevant somehow.

“How is it that you require a dick to acceptably lose your damn mind?”

Josie’s is always packed when it rains, full of patrons in untenable living situations not made for those weeks in fall when it never fucking ends. It’s been uncomfortably damp for about 3 straight days and she’s already ruined some of her nicer shoes.

“Unfortunately,” Trish answers sagely, gulping down a substantial amount of bourbon, “a dick is required for most things.”

There’s a vengeance narrative running through this city that Karen can’t quite get a line on. These men running around in armor waging war for all of these “legitimate” reasons and she’s just sitting here with this fire burning a goddamn hole in her chest.

Jessica drops a pitcher in the middle of the table and grins. “Hey now, I’ve lost it plenty.”

“And it’s not the ‘dicks’ so much as it is the patriarchal bullshit.”

“That’s right,” Jessica answers with a nod to Claire, “no two dicks are alike.”

Karen mumbles against the lip of her shot glass, the smell of the tequila tickling the fine hairs of her nose. Can already taste it at the back of her throat. There’s lots of laughter and jokes about cocks and how nice Rogers’ butt looks in those pants and somewhere around 3 AM she turns in for the night. Or out. Roaming the dark, wet streets of Hell’s Kitchen trying to put the fire out. 

He quells and kindles the flame in her belly in a really unsettling way. It’s hard to explain to anybody, so she doesn’t really try to—just stares at her laptop and all those names and thinks about vengeance.

And who is she trying to fool anyway?

“It’s not like I’m even gonna write the damn thing.”

He’s half-asleep, the tip of his nose so close to the surface of his coffee she’s afraid he might burn himself.

“Hey,” she says again, tugging lightly at his shoulder, “you planning on drinking that?”

He grunts and sips at it, the captivating spectrum of blues and purples shuffling around on the planes of his face. It’s like he can’t help but look like spilled gasoline all over blacktop. There’s also this vague left behind-ness of sweat and pus and in the end it just looks like oil swirling around in dirty rain water.

She goes for an ice pack in the freezer; started to buy those soft, fabric-covered packs because she kept noticing that small flinch underneath his eye whenever she had used the hard ones against his warm, swollen face.

“Well?” she asks again, hoping he’s perked up a bit in the last 30 seconds, “No comment?”

“You wanna write about justice.”

“Vengeance.”

“Same thing, ain’t it?”

She’s not quite sure it’s the same thing, but she’s been struggling to articulate why. Frank Castle would absolutely say that vengeance and justice are one in the same, and maybe they are a little bit, but there’s something a little more satisfying in executing vengeance isn’t there? And it’s not just the way the word sounds in your mouth as the “v” passes between your teeth and over your lips.

“I don’t know,” she says slowly, considering the answer. “I used to think so.”

“But you don’t anymore.”

“I don’t think so,” sick to death of not actually knowing anything, and just thinking that she does, “no.” Nodding, a charming definitiveness to the bounce of her hair. “No, not anymore.”

Sometimes she imagines James Wesley in handcuffs and it’s not nearly as satisfying as the memory of his chest riddled with bullet holes. She never told Matt, and Foggy has no idea. Trish doesn’t know, or Jessica, or Claire. But he knows. The Punisher knows.

“I guess I’d just like to know if I make the cut,” she inquires one evening over cheap as hell vodka straight from a plastic jug.

“You’re fucked up, Page,” he answers on a grin, casually sliding a glass of water across the table. “Also no, your ass never gonna make it.”

“I wish you’d be a bit more consistent sometimes.”

“Yeah, well,” sniffing, grunting, “wishes are a funny thing.”

She wants to ask a question but she’s afraid of the answer. Wants to know what would happen if she were to admit it—that there was an absolute righteousness to it. A vengeful quality to the way her finger wrapped around the trigger, absolutely certain of her decision to squeeze. Would he be so forgiving then?

“I got no answer for you, ma’am. If only this shit were simpler, right?”

Apparently too drunk to know she’s asked a question instead of simply thinking it, slightly mortified but also frustrated at this vague, lacking answer that won’t cure her writer’s block or make her feel any better about this unnerving heat in her bloodstream.

At some point he must’ve walked her to bed, tucked her in. She wakes up early the next morning still wearing her tights and skirt, top slightly askew but that’s only because she sleeps like she’s been in a fight. When she looks to her right there’s some water and aspirin on the nightstand. If only this shit were simpler.

There’s a story in the wind about sexual assault statistics in city prisons and she gets blown into a bit of hot water over it. She says “a bit,” when really it’s kind of monsoon levels of hot water and she’s been dreaming of buying a boat or something. Like middle aged men who fantasize about divorcing their wives but they up and buy a freaking boat instead.

She’s managed to cut herself loose this time, all on her own. No Matt or Frank waiting in the wings to set her free. It’s a lucky thing, she could easily slip through the door into that side alley. Run up the street, find a cop. But ya know what else is easy? Slamming a crowbar against the back of this asshole’s head. Which is where the whole vengeance v. justice conundrum comes into play.

Pictures him in handcuffs—sees him in a courtroom, in a jumpsuit, rotting away in a jail cell. Feels the weight of the crowbar in her hands, the way the scrapes against her palms start to stretch and bleed all over it and it’s way more satisfying than the handcuffs and the television reporters. Because he’s run his slimy hands over her chest and through her hair; because he’s admitted to her the heinous shit he’s done to all those women and he doesn’t deserve justice. She wonders if maybe justice is a privilege before she brings it down in a shot against his knees.

She doesn’t kill him, so that rends the entire vengeance and women piece moot.

“Why?” he asks politely, or about as politely as Frank can, taking cartons of Chinese food out of a plastic bag. “What’s changed?”

“Did you bring me Chinese food?” Ignoring the question in favor of admiring The Punisher in all his delivery boy glory, taking down plates and cups and silverware with a disturbingly intimate knowledge of her kitchen cabinets.

“If you don’t take those meds with food, shit won’t end well for you,” he grunts, placing a steaming plate of noodles in front of her. “Eat.”

“Wouldn’t you have preferred I killed him?”

“Maiming works too.”

She snorts, manages to curl a few noodles around her chopsticks. What does the violence got to do with it? This vengeance narrative she’s writing in her head. How does an angry woman define herself in the company of such fine, fine violence?

“Nah, I don’t think it’s about that.”

“Oh, all of a sudden you have an opinion?”

There’s a lot of people out there, a general consensus, even, that Frank Castle isn’t the cleverest of the vigilante set. That he’s all muscle and hardware; that he’s effective, but he isn’t particularly bright. Watching him move his rice and veggies across his plate, the gears in his head turning—the way his voice lowers an octave or two whenever he’s in the same room as her. Doesn’t matter what anyone thinks; there’s a carefulness to the guy, a deliberateness of movement and thought that anyone with half a brain could perceive as intelligence. Hell, he’s out smarted the cops more than enough times.

“Doesn’t need to be about the killin’,” he starts slowly, dropping his chopsticks against his plate, “not for you anyway.”

“He’ll be back, won’t he? Guys like him.”

“Probably,” he answers shortly, “there’s always gonna be guys like him.”

The mere thought of it is exhausting, knowing that no matter what she does, no matter how many knees she shatters or triggers she pulls, there’s always gonna be guys like that.

“Guys like me.”

“Frank—”

“No,” he interrupts, an ironic, painful smirk on his face. “Ain’t nothing to admitting the truth in things.”

It’s about power.

Turns out, it doesn’t really matter whether you’re the one who’s decided that the clock’s run out. It’s the adoption of the thing; the very fact of her decision that pulls the thread through the eye of the vengeance needle. She doesn’t write the article—convinced the whole thing still needs tweaking and she’s not there just yet.

“You planning on getting kidnapped a few more times first?”

“Fucking, ha.”

Figuring out your place in this city is a tricky thing. Surrounded on all sides by people far more powerful than you’ll ever be. It’s hard to really know your strength in a contest like that, everyday being perceived as the weaker thing in that equation. Bat to the knees or bat to the head, there’s still a bat. Her thin, delicate fingers wrapped around the end.

“Just make sure you’re the one who’s holdin’ it.”

[moonshoesweasley-blog]

Dirty Talk, a Romione oneshot

Summary: Hermione lets slip a curse word.  Ron likes it and asks for more.

Rating: M/NC-17

Word count: 2.5k

Available on FFnet here

Please let me know what you think! Thank you for reading!

With her curly hair piled atop her head and her tongue between her teeth, Hermione Granger was the picture of concentration. She was sat at the desk in the sitting room of her small flat, parchments and open books scattered all around her. Rain pattering on the windows and a quill scratching across paper were the only sounds in the room. She was working diligently on her latest proposal; a small amendment to an outdated law that, if accepted, would help provide legal protection to non-human magical creatures. It would be a huge break in her career and legitimize everything she felt like she'd been fighting for since her S.P.E.W. days.

Needless to say, she was a little bit tightly wound.

She was so deep in concentration that she didn't hear the sound of the fireplace lighting. She didn't even look up when the emerald flames disappeared and a tall, red-headed visitor stepped out.  Ron Weasley took in the state of the room, then the state of his girlfriend, and shook his head.  She was more stressed out than he'd ever seen her (and he'd helped her study for her NEWTs).

"Hey, 'Mione," he said softly. "Fancy a dinner break?"

It was at the sound of his voice that Hermione looked up.  "Oh, Ron! Is it dinner time already?"

As if on cue, his stomach growled loudly. He patted it sheepishly and grinned. "Sounds like it, huh?"

Hermione looked at the work spread across her desk. "I've got too much going on here to be hungry. Can you find something in the kitchen?" A frown crossed Ron's face, and Hermione felt slightly guilty. "I'm sorry, I really am. I just am so close to finishing this! It's the language that makes it tricky; it has to be worded in such a specific way that they can't find a reason to deny it. I've got to close all the loopholes." She smiled at him, hoping that a smile was enough to soothe any hurt he might feel.

Thankfully, it seemed to work. Ron agreed to fend for himself and disappeared into the kitchen. A few minutes later, a plate bearing a sandwich and crisps floated to the only clean spot on her desk.  She turned around to offer her thanks and saw him settling in on the sofa behind her. He likely has some studying to do for his Auror examinations, Hermione thought. She settled in for a night of companionable silence and hard work.

It didn't take long before Ron abandoned his studies and instead perused the latest issue of Quidditch Today. Hermione, on the other hand, kept her head buried in her work. It was tedious and stressful, and several times she thought she might scream. She did a lot of grinding her palms into her eye sockets and tapping the point of her quill against a spare bit of parchment (good thing she'd put a self-healing charm on it ages ago). It was when she reached a rather frustrating section (refuting the ridiculous claim that non-human magical creatures didn't deserve a trial due to them being unable to understand charges laid against them) that she finally boiled over.

"This is....the way these creatures have been treated, Ron! It's ridiculous. It's absurd.  It's...it's fucking shit, is what it is!" Ron's eyebrows immediately shot into the vicinity of his hairline in shock; he didn't think he'd ever heard her curse. He recovered quickly, though, and moved to stand behind her.  His large hands landed on her shoulders and set to work massaging out the kinks. She relaxed almost immediately and groaned as his thumbs kneaded at the back of her neck.

"'Mione.  Take a break, why don't you? Come sit with me and let me work these knots out." She nodded and let him lead her to the sofa. He sat down with his back resting against one arm and drew Hermione to sit between his legs. She leaned forward and let him massage her back and shoulders and let the tension roll away. After a few moments his hands stilled and she felt him press a kiss to the side of her head. "Feel better? I can keep going."

Hermione shook her head. "No, thank you.  That was wonderful, Ron." She lay against him, her back to his chest, and let him wrap his arms around her. "Sorry for my outburst. I just...I just want this so much. I get worried that I'll do all this work and it'll get rejected. Again. I couldn't take it if it did."

Ron kissed the side of her head again. "You can. And it might. You and I both know how bureaucrats are. And if that happens, you know I'll help you however I can.  You'll get there, I know it.  You're Hermione Granger.  That's what you do."

She smiled softly. "Thanks, Ron."

"That's what I'm here for. Why don't you call it a night as far a work, hm?" Hermione nodded, knowing that he had the right idea. "Good.  Then we can finally talk about those naughty words you let slip earlier."

Hermione groaned and covered her face with her hands.  She could feel Ron's chest reverberate with laughter behind her. She felt a blush crawl up her neck and make its way to her face. "I was just so angry," she offered by way of explanation.

"It was completely justified, I think.  You know I love a good curse word."

"Still. I'm sort of mortified."

"What? No! Don't be.  To be honest with you, I rather liked it."

Hermione craned her neck to look at him. He waggled his eyebrows at her, a move that generally indicated lechery. She giggled. "Liked it? You'd like me to have a mouth like you, then?"

"Well, no. I don't think I could handle that. But I liked hearing you say the word 'fucking.' I wish you'd say it more."

She scoffed. "The situations I find myself in hardly call for it, Ronald."

His moved his hands to the hem of her t-shirt and she felt his long fingers curl underneath it. She closed her eyes at the sensation of his knuckles barely brushing against the skin of her stomach. Her breathing quickened and she felt the blush from earlier start to creep back up her neck (although for a different reason).

"I can think of a few situations where language like that would be more than called for." His lips were at her ear and she shivered as his breath made contact with her skin. Without much in the way of warning his hands pushed underneath her shirt and cupped her breasts. "Naughty naughty, Hermione. If I had known you didn't have anything on underneath your shirt, I would have done this sooner."  

"Hush, Ron." She wanted to focus on the delicious feeling of his hands on her skin. His voice in his ear on top of that was almost too much.

"I won't. I like to talk, and I think you like to hear me. Is that right, 'Mione?" His thumbs grazed across her nipples. She moaned, but couldn't muster up a response. He chuckled lowly; it started in his chest and ended next to her ear and sent a bolt of lightning to directly between her legs. Ron's lips found her earlobe and he drew it into his mouth, biting gently. Hermione moaned again. "I thought so. I'd like to hear you talk, too. Tell me what you want me to do, Hermione."

It was a certainty that she was going to melt into a puddle, right there on the sofa. Ron was right, she loved listening to the steady stream of words (most of them filthy) that came pouring out of his mouth every time they were intimate. She could never bring herself to say some of the things he said, though...could she?

The absence of Ron's hands on her breasts snapped her back to reality. He settled them against her stomach and she immediately missed the contact. She turned back to look at him and saw a devilish smile on his face.  He leaned forward and kissed her; his tongue slid between her lips and tasted the moan that escaped from the back of her throat. He broke the kiss before she was ready and she felt the smile that crept back to his face. "Come on, 'Mione.  Tell me what you want me to do to you. You can be as dirty as you like, even." He kissed her again, softly, and she felt his hands squeeze her abdomen.

"Ron..."

"Yes, that's me. What can I do for you?"

Hermione felt the blush start to creep up her neck again. She barely mustered up the courage to whisper: "Touch me."

"Ooh, gladly.  Where?"

Hermione groaned in frustration. She needed to be touched, needed his hands on her again. She put her hands on his and pushed them up towards her breasts. "Here.  Where you were before."

He humored her and she felt his large hands cover her breasts again. He squeezed gently and she hummed with pleasure. "You'll have to do better than that if you want any more than this, love," he whispered in her ear. His lips found the spot where her jaw met her neck and pressed a soft kiss there. Kisses there always seemed to drive her crazy. Sure enough, she gasped sharply and arched towards him. The swell of her breasts filled his hands and he playfully tweaked a nipple. "You like that, then? How else can I be of service?"

"Ron, please," Hermione whimpered.

"Please what?"

"Keep touching me. Don't stop."

"Just here, then? Or elsewhere?"

Hermione fidgeted and ground her bottom against him. She needed him to touch her there; to feel his fingers against her and inside her and teasing her most sensitive spot. "Ron...down there, please!" She was practically begging and knew that he was loving it. His hands drifted to the elastic waistband of her shorts and she felt his long fingers slide underneath. Her hips bucked towards his touch and his fingers made contact over the cotton of her underwear.  It was almost too much. "Yes, please, there, Ron, please," she panted.

"Where? I'm sorry, I don't quite understand." His hand cupped her sex and she felt his palm press towards her throbbing center. Hermione heard his breath shudder in her ear as she ground against him, desperate for his touch. She was so turned on that she'd soaked through her panties and she knew he was becoming just as unraveled as she was. That was, until, he whispered in her ear: "Fuck, 'Mione, you're so wet. Is that for me?"

Hermione reached down and practically ripped her shorts and underwear off. She was beyond caring, or being embarrassed, or thinking about anything other than how much she needed him to stop teasing and touch her already. She stretched an arm behind her to pull his mouth towards hers, and they met in a fierce kiss. It was greedy and sloppy and full of want and need and now. When they broke, both gasping for air, she kept her lips near his and practically panted: "I want your fingers inside me, Ron."

Ron groaned and immediately grabbed her by the waist and hauled her up so that her bottom was pressed firmly against his erection. She rested one arm against the back of the sofa and the other snaked behind Ron's head. One of his hands went to between her legs; two long fingers sliding against her slickness before finally finally dipping inside her. She bucked towards him and her head fell back in pleasure.

He nipped at her neck as his fingers pumped in and out of her. She fully abandonded any remaining reservations and writhed atop him, moans and pants and "yesyesyesyes" escaping her mouth.

"Yes, baby, do you like that?" His voice in her ear sent shivers down her spine. "Tell me to keep going, Hermione, tell me what you want," he growled.

"Yes, Ron, keep going. It feels so good, you feel so good," she panted.

"You feel good, you feel so fucking good, Hermione, I love that you get so wet for me-"

"I love that you get so hard for me," she answered, punctuating her words by grinding against him.

"Bloody fucking hell," he ground out, pushing back against her.

"Ron, keep going, I'm so-I'm so close." Hermione's hips were snapping towards Ron's hand as quickly as his fingers were pounding into her. One of her own small hands had pushed her shirt up so that her breasts were exposed and she was furiously tweaking one pert nipple.  The other hand, without her realizing it, had joined Ron's and her fingers were furiously working at her clit.

Ron, however, realized it. "Fuck me that's the sexiest thing I've ever seen, baby, yes, touch yourself and help me make you come, 'Mione." He kept up a steady stream of encouragement as she inched closer and closer, and then-

"Ron, Ron, yes, I'm-" her entire body tensed as her orgasm rollicked through her.  She trembled and then slumped against him, panting.

It was a few seconds before she realized that there was movement behind her.  When she felt Ron's hands working at his fly, she lifted her hips and arched an eyebrow at how quickly he was able to kick his trousers and underwear off. She readjusted so that she was facing him and positioned herself so that his hard length slid against her wetness. She felt warm and heavy and satisfied and completely uninhibited, which gave her the courage to look him in the eyes and say:

"Fuck me, Ron."

He slid into her immediately and didn't bother with any pretense of going slowly.  That was fine; she didn't want slow. She leaned forward, gripped the arm of the sofa with both hands, and pushed back against his thrusts. Her mouth was against his ear and she began telling him exactly what she wanted.

"Yes, Ron-harder, fuck me harder, you feel so good, you'll make me come again, I want you to make me come, Ron, make me come for you, fuck yes, yesyesyesyesyes Ron, yes-"

He exploded inside of her with a roar and she fell over the edge with him, shaking and trembling and mumbling against his skin; making sure he knew how good he made her feel and how he'd given her everything she'd asked for.

They lay there for a few moments, catching their breath. Hermione slowly came to the realization that she'd been absolutely filthy, and embarrassment stole over her.  She buried her head into Ron's neck.

Ron laughed, knowing exactly what was going through her mind.  He pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "'Mione, I can't tell you how amazing that was. You are amazing."

She turned to look at him, her head resting on his shoulder. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

She kissed him, slowly and lazily and comfortably. When they broke, she had a mischievous glimmer in her eyes. "Well, you were pretty bloody amazing, too."

Ron gasped and looked slightly offended.  "Hermione! Mind your language!"

[dimtheselights]

I haven’t made a whiny post about my life in a while.

1. A recurring problem I have with the people in my friend group is that they make a lot of gay jokes - none pointed at me, but usually toward this one guy in the group who isn’t actually gay. And I know they’re joking and that they completely support LGBT+ rights and all that but it just still really bugs me whenever they do it. I’m not offended, per say, but it makes me uncomfortable. Plus, I’ve already been kind of sensitive about gay jokes lately because earlier in the week I was talking to a girl who TA’s the same class as me (but that I’m not particularly fond of), and she made some really shitty homophobic comments??? And she wasn’t joking. So I called her out on it, but most people at school (including her) don’t know that I’m not straight and so I don’t think they realize that it’s actually important to me? And I actually was offended by what she said but I ended up just letting it slide because even after calling her out she still didn’t seem to understand what I meant. And so hearing more gay jokes later in the week just pissed me off and upset me even more, even though I knew the other people didn’t mean to be offensive. 

2. To elaborate on this girl though, I! don’t! like! her! Every time we have to proctor an exam together she assumes that I’m going to drive her home without asking me first??? Like even though I don’t like her, she doesn’t live far and I wouldn’t mind doing it but she doesn’t even ask me. She just assumes that I’ll drive her home. The last time she assumed I would drive her home, when we were walking to my car, she started talking about politics and how she preferred Trump over Hillary because she didn’t like Hillary’s foreign policy. And then she goes on to say that you shouldn’t judge people based on who they voted her and I’m like bitch!!! Hell yes I’m going to judge people for who they voted for because obviously that means different things are important to them or they have wildly contrasting views compared to me and they obviously don’t value the same things that I do! They don’t value the things that are important to me!!! And all the time in the office she uses this baby voice that’s super annoying and she gets all up in my personal space and is super into hugs and touching and shit and that just makes me so so uncomfortable. I don’t wanna be touched by shitty people that I don’t even like or really consider to be my friends. 

3. Speaking of uncomfortable touching, there’s also a guy that I don’t like that tries to touch me whenever he’s drunk. So that’s just great!!!! He’s in my lab so I can’t just NOT hang out with him since we’re in the same friend group automatically then and go to all the same parties (seriously, there’s not a lot of grad students in my department; there’s like two “friend groups” total for the whole department, no exaggeration). But it’s so uncomfortable when he tries to touch me or when he says inappropriate things. And I’m not the only girl he does this with too. I’ve heard from multiple girls that he’s a total creep when he’s drunk and they’re definitely not wrong. This is the same guy that told me I wasn’t working hard enough on my thesis, and he told me that another girl in our lab said that she would be mad if I got a better grade than her on a particular assignment because she didn’t think I’d worked as hard on it and spent as much time on it as she had. Like I guess she has a right to say that but this guy didn’t need to tell me that she’d said it??   

4. That guy is also roommates with this girl that just always seems to know what to say to make me feel bad about myself when we’re drinking together? The girl doesn’t go to school with us but she’s dating someone that just graduated last year, but she goes to a different college near here. Like she doesn’t try to make me feel bad on purpose and I actually do like her overall. But she’s just so blunt and I’ve been so sensitive and irritable lately that it just ends up offending me or making me feel even more embarrassed than I already do.

5. WHICH IS ANOTHER ISSUE. I keep embarrassing myself at parties and I actually hate myself and wouldn’t mind disappearing off the face of the planet or dying a painful death because then at least I wouldn’t have to face these people and I would probably be happier if I were dead honestly.

6. I totally embarrassed myself on Friday (one instance out of several that have occurred in the past few weeks - I got drunk at a party a few weeks ago and of course creeper dude was the one to hold my hair in the bathroom) and I actually feel kind of bad for multiple reasons. One because I totally fucked up a game. Two because there were these three girls that came that don’t usually come to this kind of stuff (they’re kind of in friend group #2) and I found out they were coming when they got there and apparently I made an ugly face and now people know that I don’t like them. I’d been trying so so so hard to not let anyone know that I reaaaaally don’t like them so now I’m afraid someone will tell them because it’s not like they’re bad people - their personalities just annoy me and I don’t want to spend an extended period of time with them (one of them is TA-and-homophobic-comment girl). And it all put me in a bad mood and it probably would’ve been better if I just hadn’t gone. I was already pissed off before going too because my roommate wanted to order food beforehand so we were later getting there than I’d wanted. And then the combination of all of that, plus all of the shit from the previous 5 points (the stupid people I dislike plus a plethora of gay jokes), just pissed me off to the point where someone actually texted me, while I was still there and in the same room as them, to discretely ask me if I was okay. HOW EMBARRASSING. 

7. And lastly, the final issue I wish to complain about, is my roommate. Same one who made us late. He’s been coming to me for advice for this problem he’s been having and he’ll usually talk to me about it for like 1-3 hours PER DAY. And every day it’s the same exact shit and I feel like I give him the same exact advice, tweaked juuuust slightly depending on the sparse new details he gives me. It’s worse because I don’t even feel like it should be a real issue still. But I feel like at this point I can’t even tell him how I really feel about the situation (aka that it should be over by now) because he’s so invested and emotionally fragile with this shit that I feel like I can’t be completely honest about it. Like what I tell him is still honest advice obviously, I’m not lying to him, but I have to hold back. And it’s such a hopeless situation too. Like goddamn I don’t know how this is still such an issue and why he’s still so committed to it. I can’t NOT listen to him about it though because he said he can only talk to two people about it, me being one of them, so I’d feel bad about it if I told him I didn’t want to listen anymore when I know this is a legitimate issue in his eyes. That would make me a terrible friend and he’d probably feel like I was abandoning him in his time of need or something. It’s so draining though. When I go home I just want to shut myself in my room and unwind by myself, have some fucking me time, but then it’s like an obligation that I have to talk to him every day. I dread coming home because I know he’s going to take up time that I want to spend alone. For my research I spend a lot of time in my adviser’s office and my roommate comes and visits me there too!!!! Just let me be alone! When I’m in there I want to work on my shit and listen to music/have netflix playing in the background. I don’t want to stop what I’m doing just because he feels the need to talk to me. 

8. Not a new point in and of itself, but because the previous point was getting a bit too long: I don’t want to compare my roommate’s behavior to total creep and girl who doesn’t think I should do better than her (who are also roommates - their third roommate is blunt drunk girl), but I’m starting to see the resemblance. Girl who thinks she should do better than me apparently hates how total creeper wants to constantly hang out and talk and do things together, and we always prided ourselves on not having that kind of relationship and not annoying each other to death, but now with how much he’s been bothering me both at school and at home I’m starting to see the resemblance. 

And...I think that’s it? 

tl;dr - I am an embarrassing mess who hates everyone I go to school with and interact with on a daily basis.