brooklynislandgirl​:

“I would t’ink by now you know I’m not good wi’ orders. Dat I can look a’ ya howevah I like when ya in my hale. But really, wha’ I wanna know is…where ya been? I’ve lost count how long it’s been.” She’s not angry at him, not really. But she’s been living in fear for months with no contact, now that he’s here….it’s like a wound finally being bled. A release of pressure but as it diminishes, the pain can finally be felt.

“One last kine? If ya say it’s not my place t’ worry…den you can leave now an’ forget where I live.”

A snort is all that leaves the man at her initial response. As much as the woman appeared in every way to be a demur quiet girl, Beth had a fire in her no one could extinguish. The world tired more than once. The dynamic often left them head-butting about either of thier choices; this time Frank knew he was in the wrong but it would take a while before he’d admit to it. 

Isolation was Frank’s way of saving the world from the hate, the pain he let flow freely when it had built up too much within him. He didn’t leave bodies anymore now though. It was between the solider and god on what he did in those last few months. 

“Easy,” he finally gets out when she invites his departure, “I’m sorry.” Hand lift in a submissive motion, he was coming in peace and sought to make it up to the tiny woman. 

smol open

“Don’t look at me like that.”

Send "😷" for my muse to faint in public and your muse to come to their rescue. Alternatively send "😲" for my muse to help your muse when they faint.

REAL ONES with JON BERNTHAL (Norman Reedus)

OH GOOD HERE TOO FML LEAVE ME ALONE

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.”

wxr-zxne​:

The small smile made Nate’s chest tighten a moment, butterflies threatening to take flight in his stomach. He could laugh at himself for the reaction to a small gesture; the man was simply being friendly to him. At his question Nate looked around the camp before shaking his head, “Maybe I’ll need some help with that,” he admitted with a small smile. Letting Daryl take the larger package for the family, he ran the smaller ones to others, happy to see some joy on others faces. 

When he finished the other runs he waited by the table for the other, his own little package wrapped up and waiting. Part of him simply wanted to devour it, but jerky would last longer and hold better- just like the other had said. Seeing the other coming back he gave him a wide smile, “Good days work. Everyone seemed very excited,” leaning on the tree he eyed the man. 

“How are the kids?” he wanted to ask how the mother was, but he didn’t want to risk upsetting the other. He’d have a few words with the older man when he could get him in private. 

Daryl was glad that Merle wasn’t there to see the way he was dividing up the meat and giving it away. That was something that he and his asshole brother didn’t agree on. One deer was more than enough to take care of the entire camp, but if Merle had it his way, they’d keep the whole thing and risk some of it spoiling before they could consume it. He would just be careful not to mention that he’d been the one to bag the deer when there was fresh jerky when Merle came back.

He gave a nod. “Just don’t let my brother know ‘bout this deer. He’s not exactly the most generous.” He offered one of the last two packages to the man for a job well done. “He’d rather swallow his own tongue than share with people.” But kids were where Daryl drew the line in the sand.

As Nate asked about the girl, he gave a soft sigh. “She’s good. No marks on her.” If he ever saw marks on that girl anywhere, that man would be put in the ground with a bolt right between his eyes. “The woman though…another split lip and fresh bruises.” He shuddered as his hands balled into tight fists. He just wished he could stand up to him. That he wasn’t such a goddamn chicken.

“Ever feel helpless?” He then snorted, not wanting to get sucked into this kind of talk and grabbed his pack of meat. “C'mon. Let’s get this taken care of so we ain’t waitin’ on it to spoil.”

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 thier 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 weee 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.

wxr-zxne​:

“Thank you,” she offered before moving to sit. With a short prayer and crossing of herself, Anya soon began to eat. The soup was hardy; the summer had provided a good harvest. The boys woke something in Shane, or she figured as much, by the lost look he often got after they interacted. She often wanted to ask him, did he have his own children? She felt like he would have spoken about them, maybe a niece or nephew?

“No I am not- it’s a surprise, that means no spoiling,{” she teased. A small smile forming on her lips, though she had no reason to smile that day she would always find a reason to. As they ate she hummed softly thinking about where they would need to go, the sun was finally setting below the mountain crests. Standing, she rinsed her bowl, leaving Shane to finish his food. Getting the flannel and jacket as promise she returned to the kitchen, “I think this one still fits you,” she hung it on his chair. Sliding the large flannel over her dress she moved to find her boots. There was some mud right before the clearing. 

“Get your chore boots,” she offered with a smile before moving to stand in front of the man, “Ready?”

Shane had figured as much. She seemed to want it to be a surprise so he didn’t press her on the matter. Instead, he enjoyed the quiet noises that were being made upstairs by the boys and by the two fof them eating. His bowl seemed to disappear fast than he would have liked, but he was full enough that he didn’t ask for seconds.

When she placed the shirt on the back of his chair, he gave a quick nod before wiping his mouth and standing to wash his own bowl and spoon and leaving it to dry on the rack. “Only got the one pair,” he reminded her as he looked down at his boots. He then pulled the shirt on over his t-shirt. He wasn’t exactly cold, but it would keep his skin from becoming too chilled in the evening air.

“Guess I’m ready. Be more ready if I knew what we were doin’,” he teased, but he followed her from the house without any protesting.

brooklynislandgirl​:

wxr-zxne​:

@brooklynislandgirl

Frank nudged one of the wrapped gifts closer to the tree, squaring it with another he had haphazardly wrapped earlier. The man wouldn’t claim any prizes for his ability to wrap presents, but they were acceptable. Maria’s had always been perfection, sharp edges and not a square of paper wasted. Max nudged his calf as he wove between the man’s legs, bringing the man back to the moment. The kitten had stumbled it’s way into Frank shop a few weeks earlier. He tried getting rid of it a few times before Beth found Max in his breast pocket as he worked.

Bending down the man scooped up the small kitten waking toward the study he had built Beth a year prior. He’d never admit that he used it almost as much as her, always adding to the collection from the local thrift shops. His coffee was still on the desk steaming, his eyes flicked to the small figure in one of the reading chairs. “He’s priming to knock that star off the tree,” he set the kitten on her lap before grabbing his coffee.

“Give me a few and I’ll start the pancakes,” collapsing into his respective chair he closed his eyes. Letting out a long sigh he soon took a sip off his coffee, “Merry Christmas-“ he snatched the kit me eyeing his lap.

“You filthy animal.”

Sometimes it’s hard to remember the night she found the giant of a man on her rooftop, covered in blood. How much skill and magick it took to put him back together again after all the damage he sustained. How that grew into a grudging friendship which had slowly become something else. Somewhere back in the back of the closet she knows there’s a bag with all the black clothing. With the white skull. With all the things that he’s determined never to be again. Her new year began just a short almost two months ago, on Samhain, and his will begin in a week from now when December bends its knee to January. And with it, another year of relative peace, she hopes, another year he can be the man he’s chosen to become. Frank’s growing soft in his retirement. He’s never anything less than a gentleman unless she specifically asks him not to be, usually with her teeth grazing the shell of his ear, and he’s built up their cabin bit by bit. Everyone in the local towns know he’s Doc Beth’s husband, and they’re always glad to stop and chat, talk about the seasons or maybe the hunting and fishing. It’s as if this place is utterly untouched by any of the stories back in New York. And if she ever needed proof that Frank was the man she always thought he was? It was there as he comes into the study, perhaps one of her favourite rooms, and puts their fierce little feline in her lap. Tank raises his broad head and huffs before returning to his doze by the window, on his own bed. Beth watches all of this over the top edge of her book, and hides her smile behind the beloved pages. She’s a couple seconds too late to stop Max from diving across the space between her lap and Frank’s thigh, sticking his little landing with tiny sharp kitten claws. “First…he’s a cat, however little he is, an’ dat’s jus’ wha’ dey do. I’m jus’ surprise dat none of da ornaments or stockings got demolished. Second, your pancakes are delicious an’ I’ll gladly wait as long as ya like f’ dem. An’ last…ya know cats always like best da person who hates dem da most. So you’re only doin’ dis t’ yaself. Tank pretend Max doesn’t exist…an you see how often dey end up in a cuddle puddle.” She puts the ribbon bookmark in between the pages she’s reading before setting the book on her now vacated lap. Then she glances slyly in his direction. “You mebbe should try a lil harder to like him.”

The doctor's husband, a title Frank never saw himself having, but he’d be a liar if he didn’t say he loved it. Their town had been welcoming to them, grateful to have such a skilled doctor and kind to her painfully quiet husband. He had started to talk more as they ran errands, getting to know the shop keeps and clerks. Even the baristas at the local coffee shops started to remember his order, greeting him by name as he approached the counter. Things were good, really good. The skull always managed to slip into his mind, though. Even if he was retired, Frank always feared he’d be given a reason to put it back on.

Part of him wondered how much of his edge he had lost, as he allowed some of the rage to slip away the Punisher was also fading. Bringing his coffee to his lips again, he savored the taste. He heard Beth speak before the little razors dug into his skin. Swearing under his breath, he scooped the kitten up, pressing him firmly to his chest, “You’re a little shit,” he hissed before kissing the fur ball on the head. As the kitten squirmed, Frank snorted at Beth, “Tank doesn’t care about anything beyond breakfast,” the old dog had lifted his head to look at Frank. He had been through training with Curt to help with the PTSD, mostly now he could just be the family dog. The anxiety episodes had subsided as they settled into the cabin.

“I feed him and scoop his shit. That’s liking him enough,” he offered, lifting the young kitten by the scruff as he batted at Frank. “Go bother her.” Setting the kitten in her lap again, he leaned back to grab his mug, “Should have let him starve.” The man didn’t mean a work of it; he had a soft spot for all animals. They hadn’t been able to keep any with the kids, Lisa was allergic to just about anything with hair and Jr. left Maria too busy to care for a pet too. 

“Hungry?”

sevenxtenxthriteen​:

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.

Rick tried to think of peace; he had done what he was supposed to for the most part. His only regret was Waller; he had wanted to bury the woman six feet deep for everything. Every day June suffered and everyday she hurt the team that he had come to call his family, but it seemed his days had run out. 

When he heard the bird, he frowned, opening his eyes as the shadow was cast over him. The large metal bird was landing not far from him; his bright yellow shirt was stained a dark red from the puncture wound. Trying to sit up, his arms shook violently, barely keeping him steady as he tried to wave down the crew. His arms gave out as they crested the rubble, his eyes fluttered as he struggled to stay awake.

“Shit-” he wheezed resting his head back, “Yall the uber?”

@brooklynislandgirl

Frank nudged one of the wrapped gifts closer to the tree, squaring it with another he had haphazardly wrapped earlier. The man wouldn’t claim any prizes for his ability to wrap presents, but they were acceptable. Maria’s had always been perfection, sharp edges and not a square of paper wasted. Max nudged his calf as he wove between the man’s legs, bringing the man back to the moment. The kitten had stumbled it’s way into Frank shop a few weeks earlier. He tried getting rid of it a few times before Beth found Max in his breast pocket as he worked.

Bending down the man scooped up the small kitten waking toward the study he had built Beth a year prior. He’d never admit that he used it almost as much as her, always adding to the collection from the local thrift shops. His coffee was still on the desk steaming, his eyes flicked to the small figure in one of the reading chairs. “He’s priming to knock that star off the tree,” he set the kitten on her lap before grabbing his coffee.

“Give me a few and I’ll start the pancakes,” collapsing into his respective chair he closed his eyes. Letting out a long sigh he soon took a sip off his coffee, “Merry Christmas-“ he snatched the kit me eyeing his lap.

“You filthy animal.”

Mini-Christmas Drabble Call

Sharp Stick (2022)

ruinsfound​:

June went quiet and very still after his last point, sat now on the edge of the bed. Safe houses didn’t have nice beds. Safe houses had cheap beds that hurt. It wasn’t the thought of never seeing the light of day again that had gotten her– there had even been days where she wondered if that might be best, safest for the world. It was the other thing he said, the part about what would happen if they ever did get Enchantress out. He was right. National security. Waller would kill her. Probably not personally. She’d probably call Rick and have him do it. 

Would he play it cool, hang up the phone, wait for her to look away so she didn’t see it coming? Or would he pull his sidearm and fire before she could react? Would he argue with Waller? Would he refuse the order? 

He was saying something to her, but she’d missed it entirely. “What?” 

Oh. Get dressed. Put on the polyester monkey suit so that they can wind you up and you can do your monkey dance. They could have saved the $20 they spent on the world’s ugliest skirt suit and just sent someone to her townhouse, but no. That would have granted her some vestige of dignity, and she wasn’t allowed that clearly. Put on the shitty suit. Put on the shittier glasses. Play the part of government asset number four hundred and twelve. Let the insane inter-dimensional deity take control of you. Agree not to exist while she hijacks your body to do the government’s bidding. 

“Do you know where she puts me? When she takes over. Have you ever even thought of that?” Dark eyes bore holes in him now. She didn’t look away this time. “It’s hell. She puts me in a tiny little box… in hell.”

Rick knew his point wasn’t fair, the woman deserved a life beyond Enchantress and Waller. She hadn’t asked for this life or the chaos it caused, his teeth ground again as he thought on it. The display would bust Waller’s plan wide open with the full backing of the US Armed Forces, at least until they put together how power hungry the bitch was. At one point he respected it, doing onto those that would do onto you bullshit. But, now having been wrapped in the shit too long he simply wanted any reason to take the woman out. For now, he had to watch the woman he knew he was in love with suffer at the hand of two captures. 

When she spoke he turned to face her, his eyes didn’t leave her face as she described the actual torture he figured she went through. “If I could trade places with you, I’d do it in a heart beat,” the man meant every word of it. Nodding to the door he sighed, “Let’s get this done. I got a few beers and take out waiting,” for us.- he figured the surprise of some time alone would be something to help ease a shitty day. If she didn’t want to join him he’d knock back as many as he could get away with and sleep the horrors off. 

Walking June down the hall to the awaiting vehicle he allowed June in first before climbing into the passenger seat. Rick was gone, it was Colonel or Flag, “Kespry has taken off, following Eagle,” Waller was ahead of them in the small army of cars headed for the base. 

His eyes slid to the rear view a few times to check in with her, to most it would appear like it was for Enchantress. Rick was more worried about June. 

ruinsfound​:

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.”

Rick’s heart beat was in his ears roaring, drowning out much sound for the first few seconds he was conscious . The grip on his arm made him roll to face her. All color had left the man’s face as he stared at her. It was a moment he questioned which image was real- the hospital bed or now, blinking heavily as his brain slowly caught up. Confusion faded into a mixture of sadness and relief. “Hey,” without asking, the man pulled her up to his torso. Long arms encapsulating her, his whole body was shaking as he held her tight against him trying to calm himself. 

Taking a deep breath, he could smell her shampoo and lotion, both provided a deep comfort knowing that she was still there. Alive. “Sorry-” he offered finally after a few moments, pulling back to look at her face, his hand tracing her cheek. “Thought I lost you,” his voice was barely above a whisper as blue eyes bore into her’s. His breath was starting to slow as he stared at her, Dr. June Moone- maybe one day Dr. June Moone-Flag, he hadn’t sold her on it yet. 

“Sorry  I woke you,” he added sheepishly, figuring he ruined one of the few decent nights of sleep she may have been getting. Despite his best efforts the man’s mind was already wondering to what the upcoming day had in store, he had to visit an inmate Waller wanted. Deadshot. A coward who could shoot better than all of his men combined, a waste in his opinion that didn’t matter at all to the woman in charge. 

“What time is it?”

ruinsfound​:

June was already swinging both legs over the edge of the bed by the time he appeared in the doorway. Colonel Rick Flag in sweats and flannel. They weren’t tense or afraid, or waiting on someone else’s command. It was just them out here, and June realized it was probably the first time they had ever been alone together. No one was barking orders or whispering manipulations in their ears. They weren’t worried about what was best for their country– only how best to spend the morning. A small smile crept its way across her face. 

“I do want coffee in bed. I also think I’d like you in bed.” She pulled back the corner of the blanket and patted the sheets with a dramatic flair. More than anything else, she wanted him to smile; she wanted to be sure he didn’t regret their decision, but also she wanted the reassurance that things could be different now. She wanted to know what that could feel like. Could they just lie in bed together late into the morning with no interruptions and no worries, sipping coffee and tracing the shape of each other’s face? Was that a thing that could happen, and no one would die or suffer? 

She held a hand out to him, waiting for him to come towards her. Maybe he didn’t want to spend the morning in bed, and that was okay, too. It had been a long time since she’d been allowed outside after all. Maybe they would spend the day chopping wood and foraging mushrooms, staring out into a sea of trees and talking about the sort of life they wanted to build together. And there was nothing Amanda Waller could do about it. 

Rick was used to the silence in those moments after they saw one another in this place, as if needing to process if it was really there. Were they truly free? As far as he knew, yes. As he leaned on the door frame a ghost of a smile painted his lips, she looked somehow more beautiful in the morning. There was a glow about her. Rick often wondered if this was what she looked like before Enchantress or if her newfound freedom had added to her beauty. Either way he was thankful. 

When the sheet was thrown back and her teasing tone became clear, a wide grin broke over the man’s face, “Oh- is that so?” Pushing off the frame, he took her hand in his own before kneeling between her legs. Lips pressed chaste kisses to each knee before he moved to crawl into the bed beside her, pulling her to his chest he rubbed her back with a content sigh. “Pots got a few more minutes. Make us a cup and grab a book,” he figured they’d just lay there curled up together for a while before he got restless. A short hike or swim at the lake just down the hill would drain the excess energy. 

Hearing his timer going off, the man released her rolling to stand up, stretching the flannel fell open on either side of him. His broad scar covered chest was tanner than when they were on the squad, often his shirt was tossed to the side when he chopped wood or hiked. With no clothing requirements, Rick often wore less than he needed to, “Cream?” he added a little to his with some sugar.

@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.”