#wxr-zxne
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wxr-zxne: @wxr-zxne
While he washed up she buttoned the flannel up, the evening air always cooled so fast. At his reminder she nodded, she figured Rays things would be distributed- maybe his boots would fit Shane. Get something useful from him at least, she darkly mused before the man spoke once more. Blinking she smiled once more, “You’ll love it.” She assured as they started out of the house, snagging one of the horse blankets from the wash room on their way she smiled.
“This way,” she trudged through the mud and the tall brush, the house and the light of others started to fade behind them. She turned only to check Shane was staying close; a slight blush creeping up her cheeks as she thought of how handsome the evening light made him. Perhaps it should have scared her, nothing of Shane scared her- even the parts he swore were no good.
Soon the small grove she preferred to star gaze in was approaching, the crossing branches hid the best view. “Almost there,” she promised before stopping one a few moments later. Laying out the blanket she smiled, the impression from her last trip there was still in the half dried mud. Her safe corner of the world now shared with the very man who saved her. “Here,” she patted the spot beside her letting the man settle she figured he had figured it out.
Shane was careful to keep pace behind her. He didn't want to overtake her and cause her to have to rush as there wasn't much of a path and the mud wasn't exactly pleasant. He tilted his head as a small clearing came into view. He couldn't make out the whole thing with the fading light, but he could tell it was frequented often. He carefully stepped where she did to avoid the worst of the mud and helped her to spread out the blanket.
As she sat, he can't help but to think about how romantic this would have been had the circumstance been different. As it was, he wasn't sure if he was staying so he didn't want to give this young woman any false hope, but at the same time, she was beautiful and he couldn't help but feel drawn to her. He felt protective of her that was for sure, but it was more than that. It was something that stirred in a place that he'd never had happen before.
As she patted the spot beside her, he slowly sank to the blanket beside her. He was careful not to get mud on the blanket. "This your special place?" he asked softly.
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@wxr-zxne {{from here because "legacy" content}}
It doesn't bother her in the least when Frank sometimes watches her like she's a sunrise or some rare flower he's tempted to uproot and replant in his garden. Especially when she knows if he did, he would be gentle. For all the violence and blood his hands have been capable of, Frank has grown weary of it. He's gentled now under the wide skies and welcoming neighbours, a community that appreciates his other talents. He takes great care with her and she can see something inside him glow in those moments. He grumbles at Tank and the dog responds in kind. Kindred spirits, maybe? She slides her feet to the floor and pulls herself out of her chair. Like Tank she's compelled to follow him. "Oooh, scrambled wit' cheese?" Eggs like that and raisin bread toast is one of her favourite things. Easy and quick, too, so that she isn't making any serious demands on Frank. Was all the butter healthy? Not really but it was delicious. Seeing the path his eyes take, she busies herself with making the coffee. It was just another thing that they took in stride. At night, she would prep the pot with freshly ground coffee and water, set the temperature and alarm on it so that the coffee would be piping hot and ready when they finally crawled out of bed while Frank checked the doors, the security cameras and made sure the place was secure. Compromise was important. And apparently, so was narking on her. Tank gives up that she feeds him when no one is looking. Thankfully Frank doesn't seem mad about that. Once the coffee is happily brewing away, Beth slips onto one of the island's bar-stools. Elbows on the surface and chin propped on the backs of her hands, she watches him toil over breakfast, waiting to help with anything he might ask of her. "Off for da next glorious four days, den I got four back-to-back shifts. Sixteen on, eight off, so I'm probably gonna stay at work. If ya don't mind." She braces for what she assumes will be a wince at best, and him not being okay with it at worst. "Uh...I dunno. Is dere anyt'ing you been dyin' to make?"
#wxr-zxne#Hard Choices|Frank Castle#That Perfect Ache|Frank and Beth#Rough Roads|Punisher au#Big Skye Treasure|Montana#ft Tank and Max
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“Why are your eyes so…red?” Karen
Jurassic Memes || -
Maybe it's the fact that it took him a full three minutes to work up the gumption to pull himself off the couch to answer the door, or the fact that he'd smiled with full teeth on display that he almost never does ~a habit in common with his sister~ or...a host of other hazy things he doesn't quite hold onto try as much as he does to think about them. He stands aside to let her in, closing the door behind her, then makes his way back to the couch where he half sits, half collapses under his own weight. "If you're keeping this off the record, I'm gonna have to go with...'because I'm high as fuck right now' or if you prefer....allergies."
Karen knows Riley isn't allergic to anything. The wince when he puts his leg back up on the cushions, a habit because it isn't even the one made of flesh and bone tells her more than he will about the phantom nerve pain.
"I'm...I'm sorry. Shouldn'a said that. But I'm glad to see you. What's up?"
#wxr-zxne#Mind Like A Diamond|Karen Page#Shine Like Jusitice|Karen and Riley#Curious and Grim|Daredevil Verse#Rough Roads|Punisher verse#Brooklyn Stories|New York#The Soldier and the Reporter
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The only reason she was even here was to go and retrieve that waste of skin Flag before he got himself killed. When she landed the helicopter in the wreckage of a city in a country she would never be able to talk about she didn't immediately see him.
And when they were ordered to leave without him there was still no sign of America's favorite son. It made bile rise up in the back of her throat as she was debriefed upon landing and her crew was simply dismissed. Ignoring the order to dismiss she sat in the radio room with the staff under Waller listening for any possible communications.
She was starting to nod off when she heard the faint crackles of a familiar voice coming over the radio. The frantic radio operator called out to him but the line disconnected not long after. Stella rose from her seat and headed for her copter. By the time she got back to the island they would have already pieced together exact coordinates.
@sevenxtenxthriteen
The dust and the smoke was bordering overwhelming, the warmth that was growing across his chest reminded him that he couldn’t stay like that for long. The building had caved, why he wasn’t sure. Deciding it didn’t matter, he slowly pushed some rubble away. It was a miracle he had been left to die where he had been, a gap between two major supports had kept the brunt of the debris off of him. Even allowing in a little light. Wheezing, the soldier slowly crawled his way onto the remains of the building, he couldn’t be sure how long he had simply laid there. Hours? Days?
Enough time passed to allow radios to work again, blockers removed, and a town left to clean up the mess Waller had made. The small hand held was still attached to his hip, though grainy it still picked up on a few channels. Rolling to his side had left him useless until he could get enough feeling in his hand to grip the button, “Mayday,” he panted, releasing the button, uncertain if he had been loud enough.
“Mayday- Flad reques-” the signal cut out briefly forcing him to wait a few more moments, “Mayday- Flag requesting immediate evac.” Again, time is lost. Rick only came to at the sound of another voice calling his name, Colonel Flag. Pressing the button he panted, “Roof top of - crash site. Immd-” the radio gave a final spurt before dying off entirely.
“Fuck me.”
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Which creature are you within the Enchanted Forest?
sw au | smuggler!ben: the scoundrel
Goblin (i snorted LOL)
Despite your humble background, you managed to climb your way to the tippy top of the royal court using your silver tongue and sharp mind. You became close with the corrupt king—his most trusted advisor even. Little did anyone know you were actually working with a rebel group to overthrow the rotten kingdom. But one of your fellow spies blew your cover when they themselves were caught. To avoid being sentenced to death, you took off for the Enchanted Forest. But this was no surrender. You’re clever, scrappy even. Your wit is your weapon, and you use it to cut a path through the forest. For you’re not just intelligent but intuitive, with a strong sense of others and their intentions. You adapt. A chameleon in more ways than one. Yet you never lose sight of who you are or what you want. Just because you break others’ rules doesn’t mean you don’t have a strong moral code of your own. Upon reaching the other side of the forest, you discover your Goblin ancestry and are met with open arms. When you successfully spare yourself from being pickpocketed by their entire lot, the Goblins know you’re one of their own. Together, you form strategies with the Huntsmen and Elves to sneak back into the kingdom, join forces with your rebel friends, and conquer the evil court. In peacetime, you help organize the newly united lands, while honing your plan of attack for game night with your new family.
sw au | dark!ren: renegade knight
Huntsman/Huntswomen (predictable)
Upon the request of the corrupt guard, you’ve been tasked with finding and assassinating the lost heir of the Banished Kingdom who currently seeks refuge within their homeland of the Enchanted Forest. Though a hunter by trade, you have a high regard for all life. You kill humanely and only for survival. Never for sport as some of the court advisors wish you would. You’re peaceful, thoughtful, with a preference to observe. Whether that’s the world around you or the person you love figuring out how to be human again upon waking in the morning. Slow to anger, but quick to draw if necessary. In the past, your partner spoke out against the tyrannical throne and was sentenced to exile in the Enchanted Forest. In vain, you searched for them to no avail. To return to this place is troublesome to say the least. In the woods, you’re vigilant. You think smart and fast--perhaps a tad pessimistically--but your cynicism protects you. Despite the dangers of the forest, you feel at ease here. Focused. So much so that your determination can edge on obsession as you search for the heir and secretly your missing partner. The surety of your loyalty rivals the constancy of death and taxes. Once you reach the forest’s end, you’re reunited with your partner who joined forces with the leaders of the Banished Kingdom. You provide insider knowledge along with the Goblins on the palace and help lead the charge with the Elves and Dwarves to topple the rotten empire. Afterwards, you and your partner dedicate your lives to maintaining the forest with the Giants by preserving and protecting all the flora and fauna that live there. Because you know that no life should be permanent, but that doesn’t mean you can’t protect it.
tagged by:// @irrfahrer <33
tagging:// @ofcatnaps, @ronmanmob, @riiese, @affcgato, @mayxthexforce, @yunharlaquin, @ofcatnaps, @ofthestcrs, @pxis, @errantwish, @wxr-zxne, @desireandduty, @datapadz, @graysistance, @hopegained, @lastxdragon, @corinnebaileyrp, @chromium-siren, @brooklynislandgirl, @smokinmirrors, @talesofshadowandlight, @etoilebleu,, @ncxile, @kyberllcore, @jakkuforce, @sheresists — @madxwonderland, @predestinaticn, @lightsiided, @big-d-little-i-big-n-little-ozzo, @xfjakku and you ~
#DO NOT REBLOG#muse quiz#about the muse#smuggler!verse headcanons#dark!ren headcanons#{had to update my v outdated 'tagging' list; if i got the wrong account lmk}
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closed starter for @wxr-zxne.
Waking up before Enchantress had been different. June could remember mornings as a child, when her consciousness would rocket to the surface of her sleep with the buoyancy and exuberance of youth, excited for another day, excited to be awake. Now she wasn’t so sure. Her ascension into the world of the awake felt like transcending space and time. Her eyes didn’t snap open with that same immediate abandon. Rather, she became aware of her own existence in stages: the smell of pine trees and cotton sheets, the sound of a crow outside the window, her hand buried underneath the pillow.
The bedroom looked different in the morning light, the walls painted with the pattern of thin curtains and tree branches. It took her a moment to recognize it as Rick’s cabin. It was so clear and calm, her mind was so quiet. Was this real? She inhaled sharply and moved to push hair out of her face. It felt real. It felt safe. Real and safe weren’t always the same thing, though.
“Flag?” Her voice was hoarse and soft.
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@wxr-zxne | whoops
Kira had nodded off into her hand, conveniently resting her elbow on the far end of his desk. It was the middle of the day after all, not that one could tell under the fluorescent lights and lack of windows, but her cheap plastic watch she was aloud said it was. A faint red glow began to admit from beneath her eyelashes as she dreamed of being under his desk instead of being babysat. She startled awake as he ran up on her and gripped the desk to avoid falling off her swivel chair. “Do what?--Oh.” Kira immediately notice his trousers and turned to shield her eyes. “You might want to change… Or, am I not allowed to be left unsupervised?”
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When he had returned to the base empty of the person he had expected to return to there was no limit to his destruction. He was inconsolable in his rage--his fury palpable in the air around him as the force snapped lightening hot. Those responsible for caring for Nate thoroughly punished their pleas falling on deaf ears. It didn’t take long for him to figure out the mystery of where Nate had been taken.
It was easy to see why he was a man to be feared. Anyone standing in his way would ultimately be plowed down. The thought was there buried under his anger. The consequential what ifs -- if he was too late, if he couldn’t protect him, if he was already harmed-- Kylo would ensure that whoever thought it smart to steal Nate from him would act as a lesson to anyone else who got any wise ideas. This would be an demonstration to everyone unless they planned on killing Kylo himself that they ought to leave the other male out of their plans.
The destruction around him is insurmountable. He can feel it in his veins, thudding as a reminder how of far he’s come; him and the force seem to be one. The smell of fire, blood, and smoke fill his nostrils as he pushes forward on the unfamiliar ship signaling the storm troopers to spilt with their instructions already clear. No one to be left as Kylo had bit out as soon as the ship in question had come into view. “Nate?” / @wxr-zxne
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*✧.:°░。 closed starter for @wxr-zxne
It wasn’t like her to be so nervous, she had attended Tony’s parties and formal events numerous times before, but this time she couldn’t help it, because this time things were a little different – Rick was also going to be there. They had been spending a lot of time together, on and off missions, and they had grown close, and this would be the first time he’d see all dressed up.
The gown she was wearing Wanda borrowed from Natasha and it was very body hugging, it felt like it was suffocating her, but she was sure it would go away once she would get inside and have a drink or two. Or at least she hoped it would.
“Don’t be scared, let’s go inside,“ she heard Natasha’s calming voice next to her. “I’m sure he’ll love it,” the assassin added in a lower tone. “I hope so,” Wanda chuckled softly. cheeks burning, and went inside with Natasha. The ballroom was easy to find, they just had to follow live music and chatter. Once there, she couldn’t find Rick in the crowd, so she went with the second best option – going for that drink. “Gin and Tonic, please,” she asked the bartender leaning against the counter.
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@wxr-zxne said : 💍 - Rick
As night fell, the vampire woke with a familiar sense of disorientation she hadn’t felt for quite a few years. A momentary sense of anxiety spiked through her chest, but as she registered the wolf’s scent, she eased back into her position nestled in his hold. God, it’s been awhile since she got into fae blood. Bad memories linger on the edge of her conscience but rather than focus on them she turns into Rick’s side with a soft sigh.
Cool touch grazes along his warm skin, enjoying the sensation but as her fingers draw along the crest of his chest, her brows furrow at the ring that comes into view. The vampiress propped herself on her elbow, gently shaking Rick, “Rick?” her voice was soft, laughter lilting her words as she leaned in to gently brush her lips against the shell of his ear, “Wake up, husband.”
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wxr-zxne: @wxr-zxne
Nate made the zipper motion across his lips in a promise to not tell the elder Dixon brother. He wanted to ask why but figured the man had good enough reasons. Taking the packages a wide grin broke over his face, turning more serious when he brought up the kids. “Glad they’re alright,” he added softly knowing it wasn’t his place to say much. Hearing about the woman had the hairs on the back of Nate’s neck standing up. The man never craved violence, nor normally wished ill on others- there was a special place in hell for abusers though.
The question goes unanswered, Nate could tell well enough the man had no interest in actually having it answered. Not then at least. Following Daryl to the other side of the camp he smiled, “Excited to try the jerky,” his stomach growled in response. Blushing a bit he chuckled, “I am not a very good hunter I’ll admit,” looking around them Nate was amazed by the little camp. For the world going to hell as fast as it did they did well for themselves.
As they started to work Nate watched Daryl’s hands like a hawk wanting to cut the meat right, the bette the did the more he’d have for later. “Those kids know you’ll protect them,” he added softly daring to broach the earlier topic. “They trust you, I’m sure that’s exactly what they need.”
Daryl wished that he had the same confidence in himself that Nate seemed to have. He glanced up from where he was slicing his meat with the best thickness for making jerky. He leaned over, rubbing his cheek on his sleeve before he gave a soft snort and shook his head. "Them kids are scared of me because of Merle. Told you he was an asshole. I wasn't kiddin'." He pointed the knife at the other man.
"You'll see yourself when he gets back. Been that way my whole life," he admitted. "You'd think the way we were brought up he'd be nicer to kids at least, but he can sometimes be worse." He supposed he was protecting himself same as he did himself. "But if I seen one of them being hurt or bullied or some shit, I'd say something. Can't stand that shit."
He knew he should stand up for Carol, too, but something always kept his feet glued to his spot when he heard the man spewing hateful words in her direction. He'd never witnessed the abuse firsthand, but it didn't take a genius to know that he was the cause of her bruises and fat lip. "Lived it and won't watch a kid go through it," he mumbled and kept his eyes down as he continued to work on the meat.
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@wxr-zxne
A quick text confirmed Billy was still at the office and not at home, where he should be according to the time. Alina took the situation as evidence to support her argument: he needed a break. The absolute mess of Rawlins, Operation Cerberus, and Frank Castle was finally behind them. She felt, for the first time in a long while, that things felt normal again.
Security let her into the building without an issue, knowing who she was on sight. Alina took the familiar path up to Billy’s office, only pausing once she reached the door. She knocked once before stepping inside.
“Hey,” she greeted with a bright smile. “You do know what time it is, right?” She quirked a brow before coming to a stop before his desk.
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@wxr-zxne {{xx}}
The way she's curled up at his side her arm rested across his chest and she had to shift a little to gaze up at his profile. Wide and quiet eyes continued to remain as soft as the slowing caress of her hand on his skin. Inwardly though she shrinks from the embarrassment of having asked, and she doesn't know why she does. It's so personal a curiosity and even if she had a right, it was not really anything she needed to know. Except maybe she'd heard him and Billy joking around the other day and it takes her a while to think about things like this.
Maybe she wants to know what it feels like. What things happen in his head that puts him in a state of arousal. Is it as satisfying as any other experience or does he hardly notice it? But those things she can't quite get the words out, nor does she really know if it's even something important. But he answers her honestly and she can feel the vibrations of his deep voice echoing in his chest. So she maybe leans into him some more.
"No," she murmurs and lifts her head just enough to shake it before she puts it back down on him. "Nevah. I don'...not back in lil kid time, not now as an adult. I have nevah really had dem feelings before. So mebbe dat's why I'm curious. Like everybody say dey do or can an' sometimes I wonder if its a joke. Like if dey makin' it up."
#wxr-zxne#Hard Choices|Frank Castle#That Perfect Ache|Frank and Beth#Rough Roads|The Punisher Verse#Brooklyn Stories|New York
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@wxr-zxne asked for an open with charon so here we are owo
It’s the scent of clove cigarettes that give away the fact Charon seemed to be at ease, a rarity for the necromancer to say the least. Usually a soul or two demanding their attention, but it seemed peace was on their horizon.
Smoke curled lazily upwards from unmoving hands, the only movement from the otherwise statue-still Charon. Watching, studying with old eyes despite such a young face. Yet there wasn’t a thing about their appearance or their office that seemed out of place, a relic maybe, like a time capsule opened from the past, or a retro movie set-- yet fit perfectly with Charon settled oh so comfortably in an overstuffed chair.
“I can’t say that I was expecting guests today.”
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What Does Your Heart Look Like?
sw au | soft!ren: master of the knights
iced over, out of the sun
Your heart is very lonely, isn’t it? Is your fortress of ice self-made? Are others afraid of you, or are you afraid of them? Are you afraid of hurting them, or of being hurt? Vulnerability and connection can be frightening, but that’s no reason to shy away from their light, to tuck yourself small into corners, to build up frigid walls to keep yourself from feeling. You will heal when you allow yourself to draw closer to the flames and thaw.
tagged by :// @ofcatnaps
tagging :// @ronmanmob, @riiese, @affcgato, @irrfahrer, @yunharlaquin, @ofthestcrs, @pxis, @errantwish, @wxr-zxne, @desireandduty, @datapadz, @brooklynislandgirl, @graysistance, @hopegained, @lastxdragon, @corinnebaileyrp, @chromium-siren, @mayxthexforce, @smokinmirrors, @talesofshadowandlight, @etoilebleu,, @kyberllcore, @jakkuforce, @sheresists, @big-d-little-i-big-n-little-ozzo, @lightsiided, @kyberllcore and you ~
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@wxr-zxne:
Dr. Moone. His head snapped to the right then back to rest, enchantress- the misty black that clouded her face from view became more and more dense. Filling all their lungs while the lights went dead, the absolutely darkness consuming them only for a moment. As fast as it came it was gone, only leaving the witch in her place. “June-” his whine was just as soft as an exhale. The scene always played the same, the witch did an impossible task while her heart beat strongly in its cage. When the smoke returned and the crowd was in awe of the talents, the applause to Waller was the silence of the men in the room, you could hear a pin drop. The look of fear on her face was heartbreaking, the tears weren’t allowed to be seen. Get her out of here- sweat coated every inch of him as the man’s body, chest rising and falling before he rolled to his stomach back muscles flexing. Nightmares were not usually something Rick had dealt with before June, before he was drafted for his own impossible task. Being the only survivor had its costs, the main one being sanity and its only gift being a guilt so heavy it could suck the life out of a man.
Stop her, just stop her- even if it kills me. Rick. His body settled for a moment, stilling while he held his breath. She never looked happy in his memories, she never looked like June in the last few weeks.
Time of death 2:35- each line to the EKG unplugged, the holes in his flannel were all he had from that day, the bar from her bed catching the elbow of his shirt when he knelt there. Even if it kills me- it finally had- the girl in the black bathwater staring at him begging for help was now in the bed before him lifeless. Still warm. Finally the man screamed right into his pillow, about the only thing that ever woke him from the past, “June-” the scream was always guttural. His voice cracking as the breath left his lungs knuckles white gripping the sheets under his head, “June! Please,” a small sob escaped him when his eyes finally opened to a darkened room. His heart was fluttering at a million miles an hour, chest rising and falling at a rate he couldn’t calm, “I’m sorry.”
It was his whimpering that pulled her away from some vast darkness. Enchantress liked to put her back in that cave, the walls lined with skulls that somehow stared at her as she walked past, despite their hollow sockets. Had she come from this direction, or is this where she needed to go? In the dream, June had no idea that it didn’t really matter. The passages would go on forever, with Enchantress building another mile with every step she took. A smarter woman would have just sat in the dirt and waited to wake up, but somehow June never understood. Over and over she wandered, falling into every trap, narrowly escaping every danger.
She had just stumbled into water when she heard Rick’s voice. Part of her was terrified because she couldn’t see, and who knows what sort of piranhas or bacterium might be in the water with her-- but the other part of her knew that his voice was the only thing that mattered. Fuck the piranhas, swim towards that voice. How far did the water go on for? Could she make it back the way she came if she got too tired? Would she drown before she reached him? She wanted to call out to him, but she was afraid her own voice would cancel his out. She had to hear him, had to keep moving toward him.
He was calling out her name, his voice anguished. Just keep going, keep swimming, keep moving toward him. Her name again-- oh god, his heart was breaking. Don’t leave him! Jesus christ, how was she going to find him in all this blackness? She reached into the water, fingers searching blindly for him. He sounded so close now. He had to be here. He had to be. He was right here-- when her hand connected with his arm, the warmth wrenched her into consciousness.
They were in bed together, tangled in sweaty sheets, panting. Her grip on his forearm was too tight, but she couldn’t bring herself to let go of him. She wanted to climb onto him, to cling to his torso like a child, but she knew he was surfacing from his own version of madness.
“I’m here. I’m here, baby, I’ve got you.”
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