#mags drew something

[zvarricopter]

my scary stories were a little different growing up

[xxplastic-cubexx]

we been here before move along now

[yoki-loves-stars]

The Eye Opens.

[kaiserouo]

she knows what her skills are for

[quinn-pop]

this is a joke but it’s also…almost the meaning of something in drafts

[hollowmoon-art]

Last Words

[strixcattus]

Local door about to figure out how to have a stress-induced heart attack; more at 12

I have been wanting to draw Michael's design from my fic since before I started posting it... one week after the last chapter went up isn't so bad

[4me2knowandyou2wonder]

The head canon that I made up and absolutely refuse to let go of is that Tim Stoker is unknowingly an avatar for the stranger. (In my head Tim was marked and then became an avatar around the time Danny was taken.)

Okay, now the head canon. We all know that Tim Stoker is canonically hot. BUT WHY?? And how when everyone has so many different ideas of what attractive is!

Well you see he looks different for EVERYONE! The stranger makes his appearance special for each person <3! He is the most beautiful person you can imagine.

Oh you like cleft chins? Tim’s got one. Have a thing for lithe tall people that remind you of black cats? Broad shouldered golden retriever energy? That SO describes Tim! You like large noses? Small noses? Blue eyes? Brown?

The stranger feeds off the energy of people getting confused by trying to describe Tim. But also through the power of Fear Magic™️ no one ever seems to notice! Not even Tim himself who just thinks he’s hot like everyone else!

That is my head canon! In my head, it IS canon.

Thank you for your time

[puppygirlpencil]

She's so talented! idk why everyone says magpies are troublemakers

[ancientspacepirate]

Here, have a Jane Prentiss sketch which is probably the best thing ive drawn this week.

[lilypadeater]

request!

could you do a Rick grimes smut where it’s sorta forbidden that they be together (age gap)

and reader is very sweet and hyperfeminine while Rick is moody and rugged

then one evening the reader thought she was alone, but then Rick ends up watching and catching her touching herself, then smut ensues 🤭

Darlin’

Rick Grimes x Fem!Reader

Summary- (Request)

Content Information: +18, MDNI, age gap (20 and 40s) Cussing, Smut, masturbating, p in v, unprotected, kissing, flirting, smoking, a lil angst, Unedited

The Georgia sun beat down on Rick's body as he lifted a dead walker into a truck. His body was damp from all the hard work he had been doing, from carrying hay bales to shooting walkers. You had your eyes set on him the moment he stepped foot on the farm. Something about him drew you in, capturing your heart and your mind. Currently, you were watching him load up the bodies of some walkers to burn from the safety of your kitchen window.

You rested your jaw on you hands and twirled the ribbon in your hair, daydreaming about him while he worked outside. Lost in thought, you didn't realize Maggie had entered the kitchen. She let out a sigh of annoyance when she noticed you were leaning out the window and gawking at Rick. Her frustrated voice snapped you out of your trance, "Are you kiddin' me? Again y/n? He's twice your age, get away from the window and stop starin' like a cat in heat."

You'd always try to sneak a peek at him as often as you could, but it was impossible to do without getting caught a few times. Maggie, your older sister, was always the one to detect it. She disapproved of your 'little crush,' but helped you keep it secret. If your father found out, he'd probably shoot Rick, and his group would be guaranteed an eviction.

Turning away from the window, you giggled, "Oh come on, Mags. I was just admiring the hard work he does for the farm. Don't act like you've never ogeled at that Glenn boy."

Maggie rolled her eyes, clearly displeased with your behavior. "Glenn's around my age. Just get your ass back to work, those dishes ain't clean," she huffed and walked out of the kitchen, leaving you alone.

After finishing the dishes, you had to go outside and feed the horses. Dusk was approaching and you were eager to finish all your tasks so you could find Rick. He always seemed irritated or busy, so you tried not to bug him. When you occasionally got the opportunity to talk to him, you always attempted to flirt. You were jittery and nervous around him, so it never came out the way you wanted it to. 'Accidental' hand brushes and small compliments were the furthest you were ever able to get, and you weren't even sure if he caught on.

Rick was helping Hershel fuel up the truck when he saw you head to the stables. His eyes traveled from the ribbon in your hair to the the hem of your short sun dress. You were perfect in his eyes. The sound of your soft voice was sweeter than honey, and the way you'd look at him with your big doe eyes enamored him. He could see how desperate you were for his attention in those pleading eyes, and it turned him on. Sometimes you'd even try and touch his hands, sending a rush of electricity to him. As much as he wanted to give into you, he knew things wouldn't end well for either of you if anyone found out. 'But that's only if anyone found out.'

The horses chowed down on their grains while you cleaned the stables up. Daryl had done most of the dirty work, so you were just organizing things. You were thinking about Rick the whole time, trying to figure out what you'd say to him if you ran into him. Most of the time it was small talk, followed by your unsuccessful flirting.

The stall doors creaked open as you stepped out, finally finished with your chores. It was almost night, so everyone had made their way to the house for dinner. 'Everyone except him,' when you spotted Rick smoking a cigarette on the porch. He seemed to be lost in thought and didn't bother acknowledging you when you approached him.

"Hey," you quietly greet, interrupting his focus.

Rick turned his head to you and grumbled, "Hey" before taking another drag from his cigarette. He took a second glance at you, his eyes lingering at your legs.

"Can I try?" You blurted, curiously looked at the cigarette.

He hesitated for a moment before dropping it to the ground and stepping on it. "Nah, they ain't any good for you," he answered smugly.

Your eyes shifted away from him in embarrassment from the rejection. He peered down at you and lifted your chin so you'd look at him. The sudden contact surprised you and met his mesmerizing blue eyes with your widened ones. His other hand snaked around you and pulled you closer to him.

Your heart was racing as you both hungrily stared into each other eyes. He tilted your head up and pulled your mouth to his in one swift motion. His hand traveled to the back of your neck and it sent shivers through your body. You wrapped your hands around his torso, pushing him against your body. The taste of the bitter tobacco filled your mouth as his tongue slipped through your lips. It made the kiss even more addictive.

After a few more moments of intertwining your tongues, Rick pulled away and held your waist. He breathlessly whispered, "That's what a cigarette tastes like, darlin'." His deep and raspy southern accent caused a pool of a warmth between your legs.

You were still in a spell from the passionate kiss, so you simply giggled in return. But Rick immediately straightened up when he heard the doorknob of the front door turn. Both of you quickly turned your heads to the door and took a step away from each other. Maggie came out and looked startled to see you both on the porch.

"Everyone's wonderin' where you guys are. What're y'all doin' out here?" She asked suspiciously and narrowed her eyes at you.

Your faces were flushed and the rapid breathing made it obvious. You spluttered, "I just finished my chores, and just y'know, we were just chattin'."

Maggie was unconvinced and furrowed her brows in disappointment from your weak attempt at lying. Rick completely ignored her question and pushed passed her to get into the house. She glared at him before stepping outside and closing the door behind her.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, y/n?! He's older than you and he has a kid for Christ's sake! Why the hell is he even after someone half his age?!" She hissed, clearly infuriated with the situation.

You could understand where she was coming from, but the world had gone to shit and none of what she said mattered anymore. Lori and Shane had officially gotten together, so Rick was single. And even though Lori and Shane were primarily caring for Carl, you didn't mind that Rick had a kid, especially because he was a sweet kid.

You were frustrated that Maggie ruined the moment and retorted, "It's not your life Maggie, stop being such a pain in the ass about it!"

She sighed and calmed down a little. "Whatever, y/n. Just don't get your little heart crushed by him. Now come in and your eat dinner, or I'll tell Daddy about Rick." There was a slight playful tone to her voice despite the threat.

You followed Maggie back into the house and ate dinner. Rick didn't glance in your direction even once the entire night, and it really did break your heart. Your family and Rick's group were talking together in the living room, but you decided to head to bed as soon as you finished your cold plate of food.

A part of you wanted to cry because of Rick's distance towards you after the kiss you shared, but the other part of you was still so giddy from it. You laid on your bed, still wearing your white sundress. The image of Rick wrapping his hands around you and kissing you replayed in your head. Wetness pooled between your thighs and you slid you hand under your skirt to alleviate the arousal.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you imagined it was Rick's fingers rubbing your clit. Small whimpers left your lips as you touched yourself and thought about him. A smile crept onto your lips when you remembered the way his husky voice called you "darlin'."

Rick felt awful. He was certain that you regretted the kiss, and he avoided looking at you all night. Seeing you was just another reminder of what he couldn't have, but he had the obligation to apologize for kissing you. Although he was infatuated with you, he would fully understand if you never wanted anything like that to happen again. It was all a mistake.

Rick saw you tip toe upstairs before he could apologize. After about half an hour, he decided to sneak away from the group in the living room to go see you. When he got to your door, he could hear your soft cries and whimpers, and it broke his heart. Rick thought you were crying because of what happened, and it made him even more determined to apologize. He softly knocked on the door, but you had been so lost in your pleasure that you hadn't noticed it.

The door slowly opened and he was dumbfounded to see you two fingers deep in your cunt instead of sobbing. "Fuck, baby, you touchin' yourself?" He asked in disbelief. Your brain was hazy with lust and you continued touching yourself in front of him. Your dress had ridden up from your bent knees, revealing your soaking wet pussy.

"Stay," you whimpered out and looked towards him with half-lidded eyes.

Rick shut the door and walked up to your quivering form on the bed. He felt his cock harden at the sight in front of him. Your eyes were glazed over and your climax washed over you. He watched as your legs squeezed together and you felt cunt clenched around your measly two fingers. Your pants and cries filled the room as you came down from your orgasm.

Turning your head to look at him, you noticed the huge bulge in Rick's pants. You slid your fingers out of yourself and crawled toward the side of the bed he was standing over. You got off the bed and crashed your mouth onto his. Rick's hands desperately grabbed at your waist and moved down to your thighs. Your hands were holding his head in place while you kissed him.

He suddenly lifted you up, eliciting a giggle. Your legs wrapped around his torso as your tongue entered his mouth. He moved toward the bed and laid you down on it, breaking the kiss. You began to unbutton his shirt as he hovered over you, but he gently grabbed you hands and held them in place. His deep, southern voice, mumbled, "Y'sure you wanna do this, darlin'?"

"Yes," You whimpered and wriggled your hands free. The kisses he was placing on your neck and chest tickled you, filling the room with your quiet giggles. Your hands went back to unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his toned and muscular body. He was even hotter than you’d imagined, scars littered his warm skin. You could traced his skin with your gentle touch, earning a quiet groan from him.

He moved away from your neck and lifted the dress over your arms, revealing your bare body. A smug grin formed on his face as he teased, “Such a dirty girl, y’ain’t even wearing anything underneath.” His calloused hands caressed your soft skin, sending chills up your spine. A whimper left yours lips as one of his hand wrapped around your breast and teased your nipple.

Rick’s other hand traveled up your thighs, but didn’t go in between them. He had no intention of giving you what you wanted without torturing you first.

His teasing was driving you crazy, so you moved your hands to his belt and decided to unbuckle it.

He quickly grabbed them again pinned them above your head. Those piecing eyes intensely stared you down at you.

"Beg me," He commanded, his darkness making the heat between your thighs even wetter.

“Please, fuck me already!” You pleaded, squirmed underneath him and grinded for some friction.

His other hand held your hips in place, “Use your words, baby.”

"Please, Rick, I need you inside of me," You whined and resisted his hold. He finally snapped and released you. Your hands immediately flew to his pants and unbuttoned them. He helped to get them off, and his hard cock sprang free.

You stared at it for a moment, trying to figure out how the hell it would fit inside of you. Before you could voice your concern, Rick grabbed your legs and rested them over his shoulders. Your pussy was dripping with arousal from all the teasing, and right now he was lining up his cock to it.

"Your so wet, darlin'. This all for me?" He smirked and slid his cock over your folds, taunting you.

"Fuck, oh god. I don't think it'll even fit," You whimpered.

"I'll be gentle," he replied and entered the tip of it into your desperate cunt. He gave you a few seconds before completely going inside in one thrust. You let out a gasp as his cock stretched you out painfully. Rick's idea of gentle was very different from yours. "Fuck, baby, you feel so good. Y'alright?"

"Mhm," you mewled out when the pain subsided, and pleasure replaced it as he slowly began moving. His thrusts were soft but your eager sounds encouraged him to go harder. He pounded into you mercilessly, and the only thing you could think of was how euphoric it felt.

You were engulfed in bliss as his cock slammed into you. The sound of your whimpers and his occasional groans were accompanied with the sound of skin smacking. Your eyes shut as you began approaching your climax, but he grabbed your face and ordered, "Keep those pretty eyes open for me." His breathless southern drawl was what sent you over the edge. You locked eyes with him as your cunt squeezed around him and erotic cries left your mouth.

Rick fucked you through your orgasm, causing you you dig your nails into the veiny arms holding your hips. He moaned and thrusted into you even harder, getting off on the pain. Your slick covered your inner thighs and most of his groin as you climaxed again from the overstimulation. His thrusts faltered and he slammed into you a few more times before pulling out, shooting ropes of hot cum over your stomach.

After catching his breath, Rick grabbed a some tissues from your nightstand and wiped off the cum on your stomach. He lifted you into his arms and whispered, “Our little secret, right, darlin’?”

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

GOOD LORD I AM A FUCKING CORNBALL

THIS SHIT WAS INSANE TO WRITE, YALL DONT UNDERSTAND. I added Maggie’s hatefulness to spice things up

Keep the requests coming, just like Rick

[zvarricopter]

battling my anxiety spiral by drawing my favoritest guy

[xxplastic-cubexx]

pov: you are charles xavier and you have been invited onto asteroid m

bonus:

[thisisourlovestory]

Safe and Sound

Finnick Odair x reader soulmate AU

Summary: you are a victor from district 4. The Quarter Quell has just been announced. How will you cope with the turn of events coming your way.

Word count- 3.2k

Chapter 4

We were immediately assaulted by the screams and shouts of Capitol citizens as they clamoured for a look at us, as if we were animals in a zoo. The only thing holding them back were peacekeepers. I wanted to ignore them, I wanted nothing to do with them, I wanted to just go somewhere far away and never return. But I couldn't do any of those things. I looked to the side and saw Lysander pointing people out, muttering under his breath if he knew them or not, and if he knew them then I knew they were important, in other words they were the richer members of the Capitol and they would be the ones sponsoring tributes. And Finnick had turned on the charm yet again, giving that blinding smile, waving to the crowd, blowing kisses at women who swooned and almost collapsed at the attention. Even Mags was nodding her head at them, a smile stretched across her face at the attention she was receiving, but her eyes weren't smiling, the smile was for show, to keep up pretences. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again. 

That's when I saw her. A small girl dressed in a bright pink dress that puffed around her, golden hair coiled in ringlets with a matching bow half the size of her head keeping it out of her face. She was so tiny, and almost being crushed in the crowd, I could see panic on her face about to give way to tears. My eyebrows drew together and I glanced at Lysander before striding over to the peacekeepers.

“Excuse me.” I yelled, “I need to get to that girl there,” I pointed at her, “The one in the pink.” Surprisingly they listened and cleared a path for me. I could hear Lysander calling my name but I walked towards the girl and crouched down in front of her. She looked at me and I smiled.

“Hi there. What's your name? Are you okay?” I asked softly. She nodded, sniffling and wiping her nose. 

“I'm Clio.” She answered in a tiny voice.

“There are a lot of people here aren't there Clio.” Nobody was making a sound, too busy watching me. “It can get a bit scary sometimes, especially when you're small like you.” She nodded again. “I'll tell you a little secret Clio.” Her eyes widened a bit and she leaned in. “I'm still scared of this as well sometimes.” I nodded solemnly. “But it's okay to be afraid of things and one day you might just find out that you aren't afraid anymore.” I plucked a flower that had been thrown at us by someone from the concrete floor, a pink carnation- my mind supplied, I snapped the stem and tucked the flower behind her ear. I smiled and she threw herself at me. Surprised, I patted her on the back and pulled away after a few seconds. She smiled back at me and held out a bouquet of flowers, all different colours and shapes, as I took them she tucked a white rose behind my own ear and whispered something.

“I want to be like you when I'm older.” The words hit me somewhere deep inside but I managed a smile and pressed a light kiss to her forehead before I walked back to the others. They all stared at me but I did what I did best and ignored them as people started calling my name much louder than before. My little display of humanity must have done something, made them feel something for once for that to happen. 

Flowers sailed over my head and jewels clattered on the ground as they became even more frantic to catch our attention. I felt Finnick's gaze on my back as I walked just a little in front of them, lifting one hand at a time to wave to the crowd. They went wild. Scrambling over each other to get closer to me, yelling my name louder and louder. One step in front of the other. Petals from flowers crunching underfoot. I smiled slightly as we finally got to the Remake Centre where our stylists would be. Peacekeepers waiting inside separated us and led us off to different rooms in the vast interior. The last thing I heard as the elevator doors shut was Lysander talking to Mags, I only caught the end of his sentence. 

“An angel.”

I stood awkwardly in the elevator, four peacekeepers accompanying me. Four. Did they think I was Cashmere or Enobaria? Because I had never had more than one accompany me at any time. They only give you them if they think you're dangerous, but there was nothing dangerous about me at all. So why? A ding sounded and the doors opened, I was taken to a room and left there alone, simply looking around the room. It was all white, stark bright white, clinical almost and like freshly fallen snow, pristine. I waited for a few minutes, kicking my feet under the table I had decided to sit on, before a small group walked in, chattering away. They gasped immediately upon seeing me. Two women and a man, all with brightly coloured hair. They hurried over to me and introduced themselves. 

“I'm Antonia,” said the one with bright blue hair, “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

“And I’m Priscilla.” The other girl with silvery hair said brightly. I studied them, they looked similar, sisters maybe.

“I'm Quintus.” The man said. “We are your prep team.” They all smiled at me, a gesture supposed to be calming but the looks in their eyes made me nervous, and within moments the girls were stripping me of my clothing and bundled me into a bathtub filled to the brim with steaming hot water that was almost painful to touch. Antonia sprinkled bath salts into it that smelled overwhelmingly of lavender and mint. They scrubbed me with soap until my skin was red and raw but left a weird sparkle to it. My hair was shampooed and conditioned within an inch of its life, not a single tangle could be found once they were done with it. Then, they dragged me out, dried me off with a fluffy towel and wrapped me in a silk robe. They directed me to lie down, then they proceeded to tear out every scrap of hair on my body that they deemed unfit to be there. Warm wax spread across my skin, almost comforting before the pain that followed, then cool gel to stop the sting in one spot as they repeated the process again and again and again until I felt like a plucked chicken. Quintus spread some kind of clay mask on my face and let it sit while the others rubbed scented oils into my skin and sprayed perfume over me. He peeled the mask off and brushed some cream across my skin leaving it smooth and soft. I went to touch my face but he smacked my hand away, scolding me as if I was a child.

“No, no, no. You don't touch, we just got all the dirt out. Don't touch.” I didn't try to touch it again. They cleaned my nails, filed them into an almond shape and painted them a shining pale pink with pearly white tips, then did the same to my toes. They plucked and perfected me as if I were a doll for them to play with. All the while they chatted mindlessly and not a single word they said held any meaning to me. Talking about how exciting the games this year would be, who they thought would win- they assured me after that they definitely believed it could be me, I knew they were only lying to make me feel better. Fortunately for me they completely ignored my mark, perhaps they thought it was simply a tattoo since they were very common in the Capitol. Unfortunately for me they did not shy away from mentioning how attractive they found Finnick. I believe Antonia's exact words were that he could ‘Do whatever he wanted to her as long as the last thing she saw was his face.’ At that point I decided that the best thing would be to not listen so I tuned them out and nodded occasionally so they thought I was paying attention.

When they finished with me I had been primped to, what I assumed was in their eyes, perfection. They sat me down and inspected me, silently for once. Quintus hummed. 

“Good job ladies.” He praised Antonia and Priscilla. Then to me. “Your stylist will be here in a moment. After she's dressed you, we’ll do your hair and makeup.” 

"I thought that you did all that before.” At the confused look on my face as I spoke he elaborated. “She decided to do things a bit differently this year. Something about us being able to make you look better if we did it after because we would know what the dress looked like.” He rolled his eyes. “I don't understand personally but she's the boss.” Then they left. Giving me small waves and whispering to each other. 

I stayed seated, wrapping the robe back around my body tightly, shivering as the cold air touched my legs. The door slammed open and I jumped, my head snapping up to see a woman. She was wearing a long black dress that had shimmering blue detailing on it at the hem and bodice. She smiled at me, her white teeth standing out against her dark skin. 

“Hello Y/N. I'm Megara.” She said as she walked over to me. I could see her more clearly now. The blue on the dress was in a swirling pattern that reminded me of the waves back home, her hair was cut short with a fringe that fell just above her dark eyes that were flecked with green. “First I'd like to say that I admire what you did for her. Annie. It took great courage to volunteer to come back. Second, I am your stylist this year and I have a lot planned. Third, you're going to look incredible.” I blinked, surprised at how blunt she was. 

“I've never seen you before.” I stated and she grinned.

“It's my first year styling for the games. I'm younger than the others but I've learnt a few tricks from my older brother.” I tilted my head questioningly. “You may have heard of him. His name is Cinna.” I tapped my fingers against my skin.

“Katniss Everdeen's stylist.” She nodded and hummed.

“Yes. And this year my mission is to beat him. Well, less of a mission, more that I just want to rub it in his face when my outfits for you are so much better than the ones he's made for the girl on fire.” 

“How are you going to do that?” I asked softly and her grin widened.

“My brother uses fire. So I'm going to use water.” My eyes widened and I sat forward. 

“What do you mean?”

“I'll explain later but for now you need to get changed into these.“She waved a hand in the air dismissively and shoved the bag she was holding into my arms. “Once you’re ready I’ll get the others back in and let them do what they do, then I'll explain what’s going to happen out there.” She shoved the bag she was holding into my arms. I walked over and into the tiny changing room and just before I shut the door she called out over her shoulder. “And I actually want you to wear the bra and pants. Unlike anyone else in this place.” I snorted with laughter and closed the door. Once I was alone, I zipped open the bag and emptied the contents onto a bench. A set of white underwear, a simple white dress and a matching set of heels. I quickly pulled them all on and stared at myself in the mirror on the wall. The dress fell around my body in a sheet of white, it clung to the upper half of my body like a second skin but flared out slightly at my waist and hung loosely to swing around my ankles. The sleeves sat off my shoulder, exposing my neck and collarbone, the sharp bones almost seemed to cut through my skin, the sleeves fell down to my wrists and the fabric formed a sharp point where my middle finger joined to the top of my hand. The shoes were open toed, thin straps crossing my ankles and just above my toes, they were unfortunately heels and incredibly uncomfortable. I walked unsteadily back into the room, arms thrown out to the side to balance myself. The second I stepped in, Megara whirled around and her hands flew to her mouth. 

“Oh. You look perfect. The dress suits you so well, now sit, sit.” She waved me to sit down on a chair in the centre of the room. I sat and the prep team ran back into the room.

I was immediately swept up in a whirlwind of activity. They whipped out brushes, makeup palettes, hair brushes, sponges, pins, elastic bands, curling tongs, straighteners, and… was that a measuring tape? Quintus yanked my arms down to my side as Priscilla opened a huge case. He barked orders at her and she handed him everything he asked for. He painstakingly applied the makeup to my face, muttering things under his breath and twisting my head to inspect his work. Eventually he pulled back and Antonia took over. She brushed my hair viciously, making sure it was as smooth as possible. Then she curled it loosely, letting the curls fall down my back in spirals. She pulled the front part of my hair back and plaited them tightly around the back of my head in a crown. She twisted the loose strands out and let them gently frame my face, featherlight touches of hair against my cheeks. They finally stepped back to admire their work and gestured for me to stand up. I wobbled to my feet and gave a little spin, letting the hem of the dress flare out around me slightly. 

“You are a masterpiece my dear.” Quintus told me. “You look incredible. Nobody will be able to top this.” 

“Don't mess up the hair.” Antonia chimed in from behind him. I looked over my shoulder to see myself in a mirror Megara was holding up. They had given me only the thinnest layer of makeup to conceal my flaws, then added sparkling eyeshadow and dramatic mascara to lengthen my lashes. In effect, it made my eyes look larger and more pleading, more innocent. The dress revealed just over half of my back, cutting down in a soft curve and exposing the thin silvery scars weaving their way along my skin. Practically invisible from a distance which would be fine but close up they seemed to be the only thing you could see. They weren't ugly per se. They weren't as bad as some of the scars other victors had. In fact I quite liked them. They reminded me of home in a way. The way they twisted unpredictably across my skin like waves. Always changing, never staying the same for long. So no, they weren't ugly, at least not to me. To me they were beautiful. They reminded me of all the trials I had suffered, the torture I had undergone a few years ago when President Snow made me an offer. And I had refused. But you can't refuse Snow and expect to get away with it unpunished. 

My hair was perfect, pinned up just right and styled in a way I never would have been able to recreate myself. The sleeves covered up my mark which was good, I wouldn't want to have to explain that to anyone, especially not the man I would be on the chariot with. I twisted my wrists to look at the palms of my hands rather than the white satin, soft against my sharp bones, reddened dents from my fingernails lined them, small bruises from smacking my hands down too hard on corner surfaces and calluses spread across them. Perfect as far as they could see, with the best clothes, flawless makeup . But not really. 

“Now hold still just a moment dear.” Priscilla swooped down on me like a vulture, brandishing baby pink lipstick and gloss. She swiped them onto my lips as quick as a flash, leaving them slightly tinted and glowing. They all turned to look at Megara and when she gave a decisive nod of approval they all filed out of the room, lugging behind their suitcases and bags. No sooner had they left the room, Megara sat me back down and brought out a jewellery box. She reached in and took out a sparkling diamond necklace. I gasped and she clasped it around my neck. 

“So the necklace is really just for a bit of bling. This is the pièce de résistance.” She dipped her hands back into the box and extracted a delicate tiara, thin pieces of silver wrapped around diamonds and pearls. She placed it gently on my hair, tucking the sides of it under the braid to secure it. “Now you look perfect.” She told me, holding up the mirror so I could see myself again. I took in the plains of my face, she was right, I did look the perfect part. She interrupted my thoughts. “I should tell you I have no idea what Finnick will be wearing because his stylist has hated me ever since I refused to go out with her brother. “ She rolled her eyes. “It's a long story that one. But given his appeal to the Capitol I would say it'll be interesting to say the least. In any case, you'll look incredible next to him. Now I should probably tell you what you're going to do when you're in the chariot okay. So listen up because I'm only going to say it once.” I listened intently, a smile blooming on my face as she gestured wildly, animatedly explaining her master plan to me. I asked a few questions which she answered, albeit a little reluctantly. Then she was checking her watch and ushering me out the door and down to where the chariots would be waiting. “We have half an hour until the procession. I know I'm only your stylist but try not to draw too much attention to yourself. Although that may be hard considering this dress. “ I laughed loudly. 

“Don't worry Meg. I'll be fine and it'll all work out. I promise.” I clasped her hand in mine and grinned. “Now I'll make you a bet.” Her eyebrows rose and she leaned in. “I bet you Finnick will be wearing nothing on top and not nearly enough on the bottom.” She eyed me up and down. 

“Okay then, why not. I'll take my chances. Besides,” she smirked,” I'm not so sure you'd necessarily be opposed to that.” Her eyes latched onto my wrist and she gave me a knowing smile as I flushed bright red. “I won't tell. I promise. We can gossip about it later.” She winked and with that was gone, yelling over her shoulder. “See you out there angel.” I smiled at her antics, a smile quickly replaced as peacekeepers escorted me through the doors and into the huge space where all the tributes were gathering. I took a deep breath and prepared myself.

Taglist:

@nekee-lilac02 @hinata7346 @bambikitten @the-lonely-abyss @mxacegrey @m-maxie-ie @not-aya @camatchoum @maw1dk @avoxrising @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @somdreamy @thehairington86 @millzluvrs @val-writesstuff @erindiggory @reader-bookling123 @elisa20beth @maxinehufflepuffprincess @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @mystargirl-interlude @ponkaniee @missunicorn @thatonegayloser616 @purplelavin @user123453226780536 @littleanubis

If you want to be added to the taglist let me know!

[felicitysmoaksx]

NHL Conner reuniting with Sarah, who might have been his childhood "gf" in kindergarten something cute and fluffy or make it angst

Day 3 of the Advent Prompt Challenge! Set loosely during season 1 of Chicago Med and this also falls into my NHL Hockey Star! Connor Rhodes au!

“Reese,” Maggie’s voice floated somewhere above her and Sarah looked up from where she was helping April unpack supplies so they could stock the supply closet. It wasn’t the call of her name that made her look up though, but the confusion in the charge nurse’s voice.

“Yeah Mags, what’s up?”

“There is a man here. Dr. Halstead says he’s the right wringer for the Blackhawks.”

“Okay...” the brunette drew out the word, unsure of why the other woman was telling her this.

“What does that have to do with me Maggie?” Sarah asked as her confusion grew. It wasn’t like she kept up with the sport. Except that Claire’s big brother played the sport professionally.

“He says he’s your husband.”

“What?”

It was Claire’s brother. Sarah saw as she followed behind the charge nurse to where this right-winger was (whatever that was) and there stood Connor Rhodes. Because of course, her best friend's older brother would say something idiotic like he was her husband.

"Hey! There is Mrs. Connor Rhodes now!" He grinned broadly when he saw her walking towards him. All eyes turned to her and she felt a flush of heat running up...everywhere. She was probably as red as a tomato by now.

"I'm not your wife," she muttered glaring at him. But Connor didn't seem fazed. In fact, his grin morphed into one she had only seen a few times. It was soft and his ocean-blue eyes seemed to brighten into stars and those stars seemed to twinkle.

"You doodling Mrs. Sarah Rhodes in your math notebook says otherwise." He teased softly.

"I was ten years old!" The brunette protested, wishing the floor would just open up and swallow her whole. Why shouldn't the rumor mill of Gaffney know about her childhood crush of the man in front of her? But the man in front of her still didn't seem fazed at her words.

"Claire told me she's bringing you to tonight's game." He said holding up a jersey for her to see, "And with it being my first homecoming game back with the Blackhawks-"

Connor had been traded to Boston before Sarah started medical school and had been traded back just before the season started. "-I thought my future wife could wear my jersey."

Sarah took the red jersey with the writing: Rhodes: 15 on the back of it.

"Connor, this looks like the real thing and not just something you get fans. You need this to play."

She glanced up to see Connor rolling his eyes. "Sarah, give me some credit. This is my old jersey. Before I was traded. You know the one you wore the night before I left for Boston..."

A second flush started to creep up her cheeks. Because images of that night had started to flash in her mind.

"And Claire?"

"My sister is wearing my away jersey." Connor reassured the curly-haired brunette, pushing a stray curly behind her ear as he leaned into her personal space to whisper, "Besides, this jersey is no one else's but yours. After all, we did christen it together."

A third flush started to creep up her cheeks.

[petertingle-yipyip]

WORLD CLASS SINNER - FRANK CASTLE

finale - devil is a woman

seven // masterlist // MAG Masterlist

Pairing: frank x livia, billy x livia

Word Count: 8,919

Summary: It’s finally done.

The ride in the ambulance was hectic. Brett was ranting about how what he was doing wasn’t normal for him. He was weaving and gliding through traffic and Frank, the bastard, was as calm as ever.

You sat quietly, running your thumb over the bit of your pin sticking out the cuff. You knew it just needed a little nudge and the cuffs would pop open, but freeing yourself now did no good. You weren’t going to knock out Mahoney while he was going full-speed down a busy highway, so you waited.

“Hey.” Frank nudged your shin with his foot while Brett yelled on a phone call to Dinah. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Just wondering if I can convince Matt to take your case again.” You shrugged and he broke into a grin.

“What about you?”

“I can sweet talk Mahoney into letting me go. You, however, are always a different story.”

“That regret I hear?”

“Never that.” You smiled.

The impact to the ambulance jarred you, causing your rigged cuffs to pop open from the sudden movement you recognized as a car collision. You were thrown into Frank while Brett yelled something about not letting Frank go. He used his free hand to help you back to your feet and you saw Brett’s head whip around to see you free. You shook the cuff off your wrist and offered an apologetic smile. He simply glared at you before turning back to the road. You held a hand to Frank, the other slipping to the gun at the back of your belt.

“Do you got me?” You asked quickly.

“What?”

“Do you got me?” You emphasized and shoved your hand towards him.

“Yeah, yeah, I got you.” He nodded and grabbed your wrist tightly.

You offered a small nod before throwing your weight back into the seam of the ambulance doors, busting them open and balancing precariously on your heels as Frank countered your backwards lean. You lifted your other hand and fired three shots at the window.

The bullets sent spider-web-like cracks through the glass but didn’t penetrate. You quickly realized it was a cop car, meaning bulletproof glass. You sighed and scanned the car quickly. You needed a new target and your first thought was the gas tank, but that was probably under the rear bumper. You aimed your gun again and fired two shots into the back tire.

The car swerved before flailing wildly out of control before you could get a good look at the driver. You were pulling yourself back into the ambulance when the car slammed into the side again, causing your footing to slip and you to fall from Frank’s grasp.

You heard him scream your name as you bounced off the asphalt, the terror he yelled it with was so real you wished it was enough to catch you. For a split second, you wondered if he was thinking of that run for guns when Lieberman crashed into Dinah and you went dragging across the road in a similar fashion.

You closed your eyes as you rolled across the road, feeling the searingly hot road tear through your clothes and leave burning scrapes across your skin as your permanently unstable rib seemed to snap yet again. You’d never wished for that protective long sleeve more.

You climbed to your hands and knees, shaking the vertigo and blinking hard to clear the small rocks from your eyes. The muffled sound of a car horn and skidding tires drew your attention up, which hardly gave you time to get out of the way. You tried to turn away but the front fender knocked into your shoulder.

The collision sent you rolling across the road again and you nearly fell over the now broken edge. You managed to crawl to the ledge and look over. Seeing the ambulance completely tipped, you felt something shatter in your chest.

“Frank!” You cried out and the desperation you said the single syllable of his name with scraped your throat like sandpaper.

Instinctively, you went for the wire from your Bites, but you didn’t have them. You slammed a fist against the ground and tried to calculate the distance to the street below, if you could survive a fall from that height. It was unlikely the landing would be pretty, but how the hell else were you supposed to get to Frank?

You hurried to your feet and reached into the window of the nearest car. They asked quickly if you were okay but you flashed your badge before breaking off their passenger seatbelt. Their eyes went to something behind you but didn’t dare look. You just hoped Matt’s God was looking out for you.

You rigged one end to an exposed piece of rebar and wrapped the other end around your hand before you stepped off, hearing the hollow thud of another car collision. When you ran out of slack, the sudden stop yanked on your shoulder and you felt the deep pop and your arm went limp. You bit your cheek to keep in your cry as you had to cut yourself free and your knees buckled once your feet hit the ground.

You vaguely heard Dinah’s voice from above and you said quiet thanks to her appearance. You staggered across the distance and knocked on the ambulance’s side. You heard heavy thuds on the other side and the relief you were flooded with could’ve swept away New York if it was a real tide. You didn’t care to stop the tears as you hurried, and nearly fell, as you got to the back of the ambulance.

You pried the doors open and reached in to help Frank out. He wrapped one arm around you and you did the same. After a moment, he pulled away and put that hand on the side of your head. He scanned you for injuries but found only the array of small, surface level scrapes. You put a hand to your dislocated shoulder and Frank nodded towards his other arm, which you realized was hanging limply at his side.

“Just had to copy em, huh?” You tried to joke and he gave you a weak smile.

“Shit, I’m just glad you’re alive, Princess.”

He guided you to the side of the ambulance and slammed his arm back into the socket. You braced against it and he forced yours back in the same way, at which you cried out loudly. You looked around and saw the dripping gas, the lapping flames of the engine.

“Brett.” You whispered, putting a hand on Frank’s shoulder as you passed him.

You climbed back into the ambulance and drew your knife. Your footing faltered when you saw Brett’s limp form but you had to keep pushing. You forced yourself deeper into the ambulance and sawed through the seatbelt. Frank was at your side and helped you haul Mahoney out while the man mumbled about locking you both up.

The explosion went off only seconds later.

Then you and Frank parted ways. He was going after David Shultz and you were going home. You kept thinking about the man in the cop car but as you held on to the memory, forced it to replay, you could just make out who it was. The man from Ohio.

You decided to go home, not to hide, but to arm yourself. You were done hiding or running from that man, so you would be prepared to fight. To end it all. Him, Billy, anyone else who dared stand in your path. With the way you were feeling, you thought you might even cut down Matt if he tried to intervene.

You showered away the incident on the bridge, letting the water take away the small bits of gravel still stuck to your skin. It burned the fresh wounds but you let the pain sit there until your skin closed itself. You could’ve sworn you felt your rib shifting under your skin to try and right itself. There was a distinct scraping feeling just below the surface, like something was burrowing between your muscles and your lungs. It was a terrible pain, enough to make you nauseous as tears stung your eyes, but you forced yourself through it. The bones would never fully mend but it would be enough. You’d continue to put yourself back together until that ability failed you, which you knew it inevitably would. It had once, but luckily you had people who cared to bring you back. You may not always have that.

You debated your suit. You packed your staffs, belt, gun, Bites, mask, and shock disks into a bag while you thought. You wanted to wear your suit and feel it all come together, but you couldn’t fully bring yourself to it. This wasn’t something Exodus started. Livia did, and Livia would stay to see the hard work done.

So you wore fitted pants with your vigilante boots, a dark compression shirt, your usual gloves, and your long sleeve. You thought if you should go after them directly, track them by their fear or arrogance, but your mind kept wandering to Amy.

Had she gotten out of the hospital? Did she make it to the trailer? Or had she looked into Matt Murdock and gone to him? To her, he was just a name but you knew she understood what he meant to you, just how much you trusted him. Would she trust him the same?

You were reaching for your door handle when you were slammed by fear. It beat against the inside of your chest like a battering ram against a steel door, reverberating through your ribcage to a point where your breath stuttered. You backed away to your kitchen and spit in your sink. You hit the tap and tried to rinse the taste off your tongue but it wouldn’t leave.

It wasn’t your fear. It was from somewhere distant, from someone familiar. Your first thought was Frank but that man didn’t know fear, only anger. Revenge. It wouldn’t be Billy. You hadn’t felt his emotions in over a year. It couldn’t be Matt. He wasn’t involved in any of it, charged with keeping June out of trouble while you were away. That only left…

Amy.

You hurried to your door and threw it open, sprinting down your hall and down the stairs. You thought about your car but by the time you found your keys, got into your car, started the car, and pulled off, she could’ve been long gone or even dead. So you gripped your bag’s strap and ran.

You ran as fast your legs could take you, shouldering past people in front of you and mumbling apologies. Some threw curses at you, a few pushed back, but no one tried to stop you. 

Night had fallen by the time you got to the trailer. As you were running up the dirt path, Frank pulled in beside you and you nearly ran into the front fender. You squinted through the headlights and saw Frank throwing his hands towards you and complaining. You scoffed and turned back to the trailer. Your eyes caught on the light coming from underneath.

Frank came up beside you and began to lecture you about running in front of moving cars, but he silenced when you reached out for him. You hand closed around the fabric of his sleeve and he reached for your elbow. He gently pulled you forward and you followed him inside.

Frank tended to Curtis, who was lying on the floor in pain, and you hurried to the back room. You checked the bedroom and bathroom, but both were empty. Your own panic began to close your throat but you had to force it down. You could feel Frank on the edge of a breakdown so you cleared your thoughts. You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and used both hands to force your power through the room.

You saw the wisps move like fog, breezing through the small trailer and then fading out. Frank was calmer, though still frazzled, and Curtis was basically the same.

You heard Curtis explain that she ran and you felt some of the tension loosen in your chest. Frank used Curtis’ phone to call Amy but the phone was ringing from outside. Without thinking, you threw yourself through the door, a naive sense of hope flooding your veins. It ran icy when you found her cell abandoned on the ground.

You wanted to scream, but kicked the taillight out of the nearest vehicle instead. Frank went and dragged his hostage out the car and into the RV. You leaned quietly against the sink while Frank did what Frank did.

Your fingers drummed against your crossed arms as your brain flipped through questions like a rolodex.

Where could she be? Where would that man take her? How did he find her? What would you use to kill him? Why didn’t you give her the tracker like you did Lieberman’s daughter? Was she okay?

You dreaded the thought that maybe she was dead. Logic told you she wasn’t. She was leverage, bait even. Ohio Man wouldn’t waste that, not unless he had something better. But truthfully, nothing would be better to get you and Frank in the same place as the possibility of Amy being in danger.

“He’s truly scared of you.” You commented when the silence grew thick. “I can see it.”

“Good.” Frank said flatly.

“Listen, David.” You pushed off and crossed the room, leaning your hip against Frank’s shoulder. “Russians paid for these photos and then someone else found out. Suddenly… Everyone involved gets killed. Now you don’t seem the person to do that…” You looked him up and down and smiled slightly as his fear climbed and the yellow fog rumbled with new fear. “No, you don’t have the stomach for it, but I’m thinking that you know who does.”

Recognition crossed his features, quickly shifting to despair.

“No… No they- They wouldn’t.” He tried quietly but it was clear he was trying to convince himself.

“Who?” You urged, plucking at his restraint. “Tell us who it was and this ends so much sooner.” You coated your voice in fake sympathy. “I know you’re hurting, David. I know you’re scared, but just give us what we need and it can all end.”

“I swear to you I’m not part of this. I would never do this.” The man was near tears. You shoved off and patted Frank’s shoulder before going back across the room. You dropped into a chair near the table and leaned against the wall.

You were tired. You missed your friends. You wanted your kid back. You closed your eyes for a moment when you got a text from Dinah.

- need backup at dumonts. meet me? -

You raised a quiet brow and glanced at Frank. He was so enthralled in whatever he was doing that he didn’t notice. You stepped around Curtis and out the door. You headed to meet Dinah, quick strides but not quite a run. There was an urgency in her text you didn’t miss, but you were still so distracted with wherever Amy was. Your head might be for helping Dinah but your heart wanted to tear through New York till Amy was with you again.

But you knew Frank would get what you both needed. He’d get a location or a name. By the time you got back, he’d have everything ready to go. You had your gun out of your bag and a knife at your back. It wasn’t much, but to back up Dinah against a psychiatrist, it should be enough.

You could hear the fight as you approached the apartment. You loaded a comment about starting the fun without you and kicked the door open. You had less than a minute to learn the layout of the apartment. Rooms to your left, living room and kitchen to your right.

The fight was in the kitchen.

You got inside and saw Krista had Dinah’s head nearing the flame of the kettle. You reached for the kettle and knob simultaneously. Her head snapped up and you smiled in greeting before swinging the kettle at her. She screeched in panic and ducked, dropping her hold on Dinah.

You didn’t make contact but the hot water came out the spout and hit her arm, making her cry out again. From her position on the floor, she lunged for your legs. You sidestepped quickly and dropped to press your knee against her spine. You placed your hand firmly at the back of her head and forced her against the ground.

Dinah scrambled to the next room.

Krista thrashed beneath you and began elbowing the ankle you had on the ground. You rolled your eyes and leaned into the knee on her back to lift and slam your foot down on her hand. You pulled your blade and shifted your foot, only to drive it down and through her hand.

She cried out. You didn’t care.

You looked up to find Dinah and Krista threw the entirety of her weight to the side and you were thrown off. You hit the cabinets hard and she was able to get to her feet. You heard the squelch of her flesh as the knife was removed. Her hands scrambled over the countertop and she came back brandishing a steak knife in her bloodied hand. She looked down at you and the murderous intent was clear, but you didn’t miss the underlying motive. Protection.

It wasn’t hard to figure out that she was trying to protect Billy, and she was clearly willing to do whatever she had to. She wouldn’t stop until you and Dinah were dead. You expected a fight, but Krista had turned it into a death match.

She let out a loud cry and she fell to her knees in front of you before jabbing the knife forward. You caught her wrist and shoved her aside, forcing the knife’s tip into the cabinet door. You slammed your elbow against her jaw repeatedly until you heard the crack of splitting wood which told you she had freed the blade. Your head whipped towards it, which was a mistake, and as she pulled the knife back, the serrated edge skirted your cheek. You cried out and shoved her away.

You got to Dinah quickly, but before you could say anything, Krista slammed into you both. The three of you hit the ground hard and your shoulder smacked the edge of her coffee table.

At least she abandoned the knife.

You looked around and caught Dinah’s eye. She nodded to the window and then looked pointedly at Krista, who was groaning as she climbed to her feet. You nodded and moved to the other end of the couch while Dinah went for the other woman.

They struggled, shoving back and forth and reaching for throats. Dinah finally broke Krista’s hold and kicked at her chest, throwing her into your grip. You smiled as you latched onto her arms. With a small swing, you slammed her face first against the window.

Immediately, her fear was visible. You kept a hand at the back of her head, face squished against the glass, and she squirmed under your hold. With your free hand, you pulled your gun. You shoved off her, hearing a whimper as a response, and aimed. You fired four shots, two on either side.

Krista flinched at the sound and shakily turned to face you. You saw her bloody handprint on the glass before you slammed your shoulder against her chest.

The glass shattered with an echoing sound. Her scream filled any gaps for silence and you watched her limbs flail as she went down. You put your gun away as you did. Her body smacked the concrete hard, with enough force for her to bounce and hit again. The crowd gathered almost immediately.

You backed away from the window and grabbed Dinah’s arms. You spun her and tried to push her to the door but she seemed frozen.

Shock, you realized. Dinah was in shock.

You made a noise to yourself before checking the window. The crowd grew but no lights. No sirens.

You still had time. At least, you thought you did.

Your eyes locked with a hooded figure and the despair slammed you like a punch in the jaw. However, it quickly melted into rage, pure hatred. You backed away in a hurry and grabbed Dinah’s hand.

You yanked her with you, paused only to shove her jacket into her hands and tuck your bloodied knife away. You realized the fire was still on, and while you considered leaving it, you didn’t want to burn the entire building down. You hustled to twist the knob and looked back to Dinah.

There was no more time. You could feel Billy coming down the hall.

“Dinah.” You grabbed both her arms and shook her. “Come back. Come on!” You urged.

He was only a few doors down.

“Billy’s coming.” You shook her again. “I can’t fight him and look out for you.”

No response.

You groaned and quickly looked around, spotting the tip of Dinah’s gun under the table. You scrambled for it quickly and shoved it into her hands. She looked at the gun, then you, then it seemed to sink in what you had said. She nodded vigorously and you breathed out in relief.

It didn’t last long.

Billy slammed through the door, firing blindly and screaming. You dropped to the ground and slid around the corner, brandishing your bloodied knife, while Dinah spun to take cover in a room off to the side. Once he stepped into the living room, you acted.

You kicked out his knee and he buckled. His rage turned on you and you swiped the blade, catching his stomach. and he growled. You caught a glimpse of Dinah coming back into the living room.

You planted a hand on the ground and leaned into it, allowing you enough balance to swing your foot and kick at the slice. Your foot hit hard and he crumpled a little more. You dropped the blade and dove forward, tackling Billy to his back.

You had a comment loaded about a familiar view and different circumstances, but you ignored the opportunity. Instead, you made sure the gun slid away before you started slamming your fist against his face. His head jerked to the side with the impact and you watched the blood splatter out of his mouth and onto Krista’s hardwood floors.

He caught your next punch and twisted your wrist outward, his thumb purposefully digging into the bullet scar. You whined before he yanked down and pulled you off him. You hit your elbow on the ground first and before you knew it, Billy had you pinned. Both his hands closed around your throat and you grasped one of his wrists, fighting to get your other hand behind your back for your gun.

“You had to make it about her.” He said angrily, venom lacing his words as the hatred in them burned against your skin.

“I should’ve-“ You choked out. “Killed you at- At that ap- Apartment.”

The shot firing broke the silence and you flinched slightly. Billy crumpled against you for a moment and you took the chance to throw him off you. You scooted away quickly and freed your gun, quickly firing into his leg before he could get to his feet.

You felt Dinah’s hands under your arms and you let her help you to your feet. Your eyes scanned the area and you couldn’t find your blade. That made your stomach pitch, even briefly considering Billy using it, but you forced the thought away. Just because you didn’t see it didn’t mean Billy had it. Maybe it was just under the furniture.

Immediately after you had the thought, he proved you wrong. Your blade came through the side of your leg, angled down towards your knee, and you fell back to the ground. You scooted yourself away as Billy tackled Dinah to the ground. Every movement of the joint sent a jolt of pain and you bit your lip hard trying to keep your noises down.

You yanked your blade out roughly and used it to slice a strip of the curtain off. You tied it around your wound as tight as you could and gripped your knife’s handle. You leaned on the couch and you came around and found Billy on top of Dinah, both of them gripping the other’s throat. You rocked back a bit and threw yourself against Billy’s side.

He fell away and your instinct was to look at Dinah, just to see if she’s alive, but you couldn’t risk it. Instead, you slid on the side of your leg and got to Billy’s side. His eyes met yours and you turned your head to spit on the floor. Then you looked back and drove your blade into his stomach.

Once, twice, thrice.

He sputtered, blood trickling out his mouth, but you quickly slammed a fist against the side of his head and he fell limp. You dropped to a seat and heaved a sigh. As soon as you stopped moving, your adrenaline died and the pain flared.

Your knee felt on fire. Your cheek stung. Your elbow throbbed. Your throat burned. You leaned against the arm of the couch and gave in to the pain. You whined to yourself as you felt it grow, felt it sit under your skin while your body tried to mend itself. You could feel the edges of the slice on your cheek and the gash on your knee reaching for the other side, the tissues in your throat reforming after the swelling, the bruise on your elbow breaking apart. It was familiar, the pain of healing, but it was too much at the same time. You closed your eyes, only intended for a moment, and you felt yourself fall into unconsciousness.

It wasn’t long until you came to. The pains across your body were dull aches and you could see the lights of police cars on the street. You didn’t know where they were so you had to run. You ignored Dinah laying beside you but you couldn’t ignore the pool of blood. It wasn’t yours, but it had grown far enough to reach your pant leg.

You pushed to your feet and saw Billy was missing. You looked up and cursed God again for taking that victory away from you. Your knife was gone with him and you hoped that if he dared to pull it out, it’d take the last bit of strength he had. You ran a hand down your face and came to sudden realization that there was no mask to hide behind.

Your stomach pitched at the potential danger you were in. Billy Russo gone, Krista Dumont on the sidewalk in a pile of glass, Dinah Madani unconscious at your feet. It was a massacre and you were at the center of it. Your head was ringing, like someone was aggressively shaking a bell in your skull, when you realized it was your implant. Someone calling.

You snuck into the hallway, hearing the officers coming up the stairs. You went the other way down the hall until you found another stairwell. You inched the door open, heard no one, and darted inside. With a new and temporary limp, you made your way down the stairs and to the back alley.

You reached up to call back but no one answered. You shook your head, crept closer to the street to get your bearings, and made your way back to the trailer.

You’d reconvene with Frank, take a few hours to finish recovery, gear up fully, and go after your kid. You still had to find Amy.

You didn’t know how long it took you to get back. With the limp, seemingly having grown worse as you went, and the only moving via alleys, it felt like you took hours to get back. It could’ve been less than one. The moon was still out, that was all you knew.

You came through the door and Curtis stood immediately. He practically ran to your side when he saw you limp, taking on most of your weight until he got you to the closest chair. He examined the healing wound on your knee then promptly went off for a kit to clean and stitch it. You were grateful for it and the stinging of the needle was a welcome distraction from the vaguely familiar man staring at you with a pathetic plea in his eyes.

You looked at Curtis with a raised brow but he simply shook his head. You glanced back at the senator and found it wasn’t necessarily fear anymore. More apologetic, ashamed even. You said nothing.

The silence dragged on for what felt like an eternity until finally the stitches were done. Curtis patted your leg and you smiled in thanks. Quietly, he got up and left, taking Frank’s captive with him.

You rubbed the joint gently and winced as the blossoming bruise protested your touch. You limped to the bathroom and found a long wrap. You worked it around your knee and fastened it tightly, both enjoying and hating the compression it offered. It was a little while longer until Frank came back.

“Where is she?” You managed, though your voice came out raspy.

“He has her. She followed him, called us for help, and he took her.” Frank said.

He was angry and it unfortunately was pointed at you as well. It didn’t take a genius to know that the call you had gotten earlier was Amy. You missed a chance to get her, a chance to end that battle, because you were fighting Billy. All of that and you didn’t even know if Billy was dead. He was also angry at himself, for not being able to keep her. And he was angry at her for getting herself caught. 

“And where the hell were you, huh?” Frank asked and the accusation was hard to miss.

You glared at him slightly, wondering what he thought you were doing that was enough for you to miss Amy’s call and come back with a bloody leg, but you kept your thoughts to yourself. You didn’t have it in you to argue.

“Took a shot at Billy.” You admitted. “Don’t know if it’s done but he left about half his blood on the floor… I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

“Yeah…” Frank sighed, coming over to your side. He dropped a hand to your shoulder and gave a small squeeze. Your head fell against his forearm and you reached up to pat his hand. “You gonna be alright?”

“Always am, Frank.”

Frank stepped away to take a call. He was gone less than a minute but came back with that look you’d come to expect from him. A fight was coming and it was coming fast. You gestured for Frank to give you his hand and he helped you out of the chair.

You made your way to your bag, which you had left on the small kitchen table, and began fitting equipment into place. Your belt clipped easily around your hips and you filled its sheaths with the appropriate weapons. You slung your pack over your shoulders and you decided to leave your mask behind. Your Bites fit securely to your wrists and the blue light from them loosened a knot in your chest.

When you were ready, you and Frank decided to wait outside. He sat on the little step leading into the trailer and you positioned yourself along the junk cars. You were kneeling in the dirt, drawing figures on the ground out of boredom when the car finally pulled up.

Frank and the Man had their exchange with Amy in the middle. When she finally caught your eyes, you saw the shock make her pupils go wide. You held a finger to your lips to keep her quiet and she gave you a small nod.

You crept around the cars until you were behind their exchange. You stood and revealed yourself, flexing your hands to wake your Bites. You heard Frank tell the man - who’s name you finally learned to be John - to point the gun at him because he’d do anything for Amy.

Frank’s eyes met yours for a second but you didn’t need words for his intent.

Not yet.

You recognized that John’s gun was too close to Amy’s head, his finger too close to the trigger. So you waited, tense and ready to fight. To protect Amy and Frank, whatever the cost. You knew Frank wasn’t bulletproof, even if he believed he was, but your shirt at least was. You’d put yourself in front of whatever bullet was intended for them, because they were your family.

You’d do anything for them.

“Where’s your friend?” John asked and your head tilted.

You backed away slowly, though your weapons remained ready. You kept moving until you were able to crouch behind the car.

“Let the girl go.” You called finally. “Come on, John. You just said you have kids. Let her go, I’ll come out, and we’ll settle this.”

You didn’t look up but you felt the relief from Frank and Amy. You smiled to yourself, blinking away the tears of your own relief, before you stood. Your hands were raised and John’s gun found aim at your chest almost immediately. You kept his gaze and he frowned at your outfit. You wondered if he recognized the top, but you also couldn’t remember if that was the one you wore when you fought him last time.

You were pulled from the thought when Amy’s arms wrapped around you. Immediately, you hugged back and allowed yourself to forget John’s presence.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled against you. “I’m sorry, Livia. I tried to call but-“

“Hey.” You stepped back enough to look her in the eyes. “It’s not your fault, okay? Listen, I’m gonna give you an address. You drive straight there and knock on his door. Don’t stop knocking until he answers.”

“But Frank said-“

“I’m not worried about that.” You cut in. “You tell him that I sent you. He’ll look out for you till I come get you, alright?”

“Who is it?” She sniffled.

“You finally get to meet Red.” You smiled slightly and guided her into the car. You leaned across her to put in Matt’s address in the GPS. You scribbled his apartment number on her hand with a pen you found on the center console. “June should be with him. Tell them I’ll see you all soon.”

“Don’t die.” She whined and your heart broke. You were painfully reminded of how young she really was.

“We won’t.”

You shut the door and walked to Frank’ side with your hands raised again. You felt John’s gun following you, but it was the least of your concerns. When you heard the horn, likely part of Frank’s orders, you felt like you could breathe again.

“Where’d you send her?” Frank asked quietly.

“Red.” You replied in the same low tone. “He’ll watch out for her.”

“He still looking out for your mini?”

“Yeah.” You smiled slightly. “She’s in good hands.”

“I know.” He nodded.

Frank and John had a quick exchange about David. Both men took dangerous steps towards each other and your whole body tensed. Once John was close enough, you acted.

You dropped a knee and shot a wire around his ankles. As you yanked his feet out, Frank was there to make sure he hit the ground. Frank pounded away at the man so you ditched the wire and hurried to kick the gun away from John’s reach. However, that didn’t stop John from hurting Frank with an old car part.

You reached behind and pulled both staffs, twisting them together quickly as John collected a new weapon of his own. Frank was regaining his bearings when you stood in front of your shared opponent.

He swung it at your head and just got your staff up in time to block it. You twisted around to force the weapon, what looked like a shovel, to the ground. Your foot slammed on top of it and you jerked the edge of your weapon to hit his jaw. He staggered and you jammed your knee up into his stomach.

His hold on the shovel fell. You kicked out at his chest to force him back against the closest car. Without hesitation, you moved in and pressed your staff against his throat.

You wanted him to die. You watched to watch the light fade from his eyes, to feel him struggle for his last breath. You wanted to kill him for everything he had done to you, to Amy, to Frank.

The thought brought out something long buried, something you didn’t want to fight against. You let that floodgate open, let the rage and pain and anger spill out.

The red haze across your thoughts and your vision served as enough of a distraction for John to use against you. One of his hands grabbed your arm and the other landed on the side of your head. He jerked you to the side and slammed your head against the car’s windshield twice. He kept you pinned, leaning his weight against your skull, and you had to squeeze one eye shut. The glass spidered beneath you and he twisted your head, slicing razor thin lines open across half your face.

Vaguely, you wondered if that was only a small fraction of the pain Frank inflicted on Billy back at the carousel with the mirror.

The pressure suddenly disappeared and you slid down the car. You dropped into the dirt, fresh blood seeping from the thin wounds. You blinked it away but you couldn’t quite tell if it was out of your eye, given the red tint the scene had taken on.

Frank had stepped in while you tried to regain control. You weren’t trying to fight the manic rage in your head or the burning sensation through your muscles. You were willing to use it, but you needed to direct it. You needed focus.

With a flex of your hands, both Bites ignited while you scanned the scene in front of you. The bright blue shifted to red and you could all but feel the electricity in your blood. It was the only thing that seemed to ground you into the present moment. That and the stinging pain down half your face.

John had just thrown Frank to the ground and was reaching for a length of chain. You twisted the long staff apart and threw one piece, ricocheting it off the ground to smack John in the throat. He stumbled away and you ran at him again.

You slipped the other staff into the pack before you shouldered into his side with enough force to head a crack. He hit the ground and rolled a few feet away. You heard the clink of the chain behind you, John coughing and wheezing in front you, while you patted your belt for a quick inventory.

Shock disks. Bites. Staff. Gun.

Your knife had disappeared when Billy did. Your retractable was long since gone. That was a weapon you didn’t think you’d miss.

You slipped two shock disks between your fingers and tightened your hands into fists. John stood unsteadily but still came at you. He landed a few heavy hits to your jaw, knocking you off balance slightly. He grabbed your chin, forced you to look at him as he raised his fist for what he intended to be a finishing blow. You took the opportunity to slam your fist into his stomach.

His entire body tensed with the electricity, gripping tighter to your face. You pried his fingers off with your other hands and shoved him away. Frank was at your side within moments, kicking at John’s head before helping you get some distance.

“You alright?” You asked before moving your jaw around. You felt the familiar throb of pain but it was still in place.

“Yeah.” He mumbled, pretending like he wasn’t covered in blood. Whose blood it was, you couldn’t say. “You?”

“Never better.” You smiled.

Frank threw himself back into the fight before you could. Fighting with Frank was starkly different than fighting with Matt. You and Matt fought in tandem, alternating punches with complimentary styles. You two moved like a pair of dancers or figure skaters, lifelong partners that could anticipate each other’s moves.

You and Frank fight in waves. His ambush would come, then while he took a retreat, you attacked. You two would alternate, creating a never ending barrage of offense. Neither of you stayed down too long because the other one always found a gap to haul the other up. You two fought like the soldiers you were.

It came to be your turn when John tackled Frank to the ground.

You took a short running start to slide on your knees around the fallen man, firing both Bites as you went. He convulsed with the sudden shock as your momentum stopped. Bracing your hands flat against the dirt, you slammed both feet forward to send John to his back.

Your previously discarded staff was close by so you scooped it up, swiped the rotating mechanism, and heard the distinct sound of the blade releasing. You jammed it forward but John managed to avoid the impalement, suffering a gash along his side instead. You shifted to a kneel and slashed upwards, cutting across the fronts of his legs as he tried to stand, then you threw the weapon like a javelin. It buried itself in his shoulder and he cried out.

You got to your feet before searching for Frank. Losing focus was your mistake. John had yanked out and discarded your weapon before he tackled you. His bloodied shoulder slammed your rib cage and the disconnected bones shifted suddenly. You screamed at the pain but John didn’t ease up. He kept pushing until your back hit a car and he could yank you over the hood.

You tried to push yourself up and get some distance, but the sharp pain made you collapse, your back flush on the hood and your head hanging off the other end. John took the opportunity to slam his elbow against the center of your chest, hard enough that you practically flipped over yourself.

Air was knocked out of your lungs. You were dizzy from the pain. Your head hurt. Your leg still hurt, even more now. The bruise was already forming across your sternum. You could barely hear the thunks, thuds, and grunts as Frank and John continued the brawl.

You wanted it over. You were just so damned tired.

You pushed yourself up and forced your feet to move. You limped over, practically dragging the useless leg behind you. Frank had gotten John to his knees by then. You stood behind John, gripping a suspender in either hand. Hard yanks allowed you to cross them over opposite shoulders and you pinned your knee between his shoulder blades while you pulled the strips of material back.

“When you- kill them-“ John choked out. Frank hesitated to listen and you rolled your eyes. “Don’t hurt- my boys.”

Frank looked at you, a silent request for you to wait. You considered it, put yourself in John’s shoes. If it was the other way around and John was going to kill you, you wouldn’t want him to go after your girls. If your last words were asking for June and Amy’s safety, you’d be okay dying.

You let go of the suspenders and John greedily gasped for air. Frank offered you a hand and you limped around to stand beside him.

“I know who you are.” John looked between you both. “You are Death.”

“What if…” Your voice was a rasp so you cleared your throat. “You mentioned your boys. What about their mother?”

“God called her home while I was here.” He confessed, nearing tears.

The red haze broke apart and you blinked at the clarity. You also understood you couldn’t orphan those boys.

“They did that on purpose.” You knelt in front of John. Frank’s hand landed on your shoulder. “They took you from your boys and your wife when they needed you so even if you failed, they had what they wanted. They’ll turn your boys into what they’ve made you. If I can keep my girls from becoming like me, I’d do anything… What if there’s a way to bring you back to your boys and end this?”

“You fight with the Devil in your eyes.” John said calmly. “But you have a good heart.”

“What do you say, John?” Frank asked. “Let’s go get your boys, eh?”

John sniffled then nodded. He looked at you both with tears shining in his eyes.

You knew you made the right choice.

The next morning, your body was stiff as you climbed out of bed. The deep purple bruise took over your chest. The stitched wound at your knee was red and swollen, making bending the joint hard. The white of your eye was red but the thin slices had healed. Your rib was less painful but you could feel it shift with each breath.

When your phone rang with the unknown number, you hesitated to answer it. Curiosity took over.

It was Billy. He confessed he was bleeding out, said he didn’t want to die alone. He didn’t expect you to forgive him. He just wanted company.

Something long since buried made you go to him. You did, however, have enough sense to text Frank to meet you there just in case.

You walked into the building and immediately knew you two were alone. Your gun was a comfortable pressure against your hip as you found the room he was in. You made a point to sit on the floor well out of his reach.

“How the mighty have fallen.” You commented.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come.” He smiled weakly. “It’s good to see you, Livs.”

“Was it worth it?” You asked instead of acknowledging his sentiment. The worst part was that you could feel he actually meant it. “Abandoning the people who cared about you?”

He scoffed slightly, which turned to a cough and more blood spilled out his mouth. “We both know you didn’t- didn’t actually care.”

“I did.” You nodded. You figured it was about time to confess it all, especially if he wasn’t going to live much longer. “Bill, I would’ve… I thought you were going to be the one to bring me back after I lost Matt. I was scared of admitting I loved you because everyone I love gets hurt. I had just lost someone that meant everything to me. I wasn’t going to risk anyone else like that.”

“Do you remember when I said we could get married?” Another small smile.

“Yeah, we were both drunk off our asses.” You chuckled slightly. “You said there was a chapel not too far from Anvil and it’d be fun.”

“You didn’t say no.”

“Because I was trying to decide if it was worth the risk.”

“Livs-“

“Don’t call me that.”

“Livia.” He corrected. “Everything I’ve done to hurt you, I don’t expect you to forgive me.” He spoke with an unexpected genuineness that threw you for a moment. l

A deathbed apology was usually just to clear a guilty conscious in your experience. But Billy said those words knowing you’d be unlikely to forgive him. You felt compelled to hear him out.

“I’m not sorry for what’s happened to you.” You said plainly. “I did love you, Billy Russo, but I mourned that man a long time ago.”

You reached into your pocket and withdrew the watch he had given you. You flipped it over, ran your thumb along his etched initials, then tossed it to him. It landed atop one of many blood stains on his shirt.

“That was one of the last things you gave me.” You explained.

“Why’d you keep it?” He asked, pupils blown wide as he fought to stay. “If you hated me so bad.”

You sighed slightly, your thumb running over the bullet scar. “I guess I used to hope that when I saw you again, you’d look the same. Like you did before everything… I thought I’d see my Billy, not whatever Rawlins made you. But honestly, I’m not even sure what you became.”

Frank came in before Billy could respond. He stood behind you like a guardian taking post. Billy tried to say he was happy Frank was there and apologize, but Frank didn’t let him get the words out. You flinched at the gunshots but said nothing. You felt nothing.

You had already mourned Billy Russo, so seeing his dead body stirred nothing. Just a faint sense of relief at the thought of a threat eliminated.

“You alright?” Frank asked as you two left.

“Yeah.” You nodded slightly.

The night came sooner than you expected and it was time to put an end to the Schultzs’ plans. You didn’t know their son David enough to care about his career or his life falling apart over the pictures. You didn’t even care about the pictures themselves. It was about going after the people who sent someone for you and your family.

So long as they lived, your family’s fate was unknown. You wouldn’t stand for that.

Amy went in first but you refused to let her in alone. You ignored the mask, wanting them to look clearly into the eyes of the woman who’d end them. Frank was beside you while Amy did her talking. You two took post in the next room. angling yourselves for a clear sightline.

When you saw the wife make a move for Amy, you fired your weapon. Your bullet went through her hand and the knife clattered free. Frank’s gunshot came next, blowing a hole through her head.

The husband screamed in terror while you two marched in.

You stood quietly one protective step in front of Amy while Frank made his threats. Amy warned of going to the Bulletin with her evidence. You knew that Karen wouldn’t hesitate to run the story with or without her editor’s approval, and you’d be by her side throughout whatever backlash came from it.

“It’s your choice.” You said flatly, tossing an empty gun to the table. You pulled out a single bullet, examining it thoughtfully as you continued. “You take that gun, put it in your mouth, and blow out the back of your head. Be with your wife.” You looked at the man. Yellow fog surrounded him like a blanket and you smiled. “Or you live. Live with the truth of what you’ve done.”

You carefully placed the bullet on the table before leaving. Amy was right behind you and Frank followed after, a neat line as you left the Schultz estate.

You weren’t even out the driveway when the gun went off.

The last exchange with John was silent, understanding nods before he loaded his sons and left.

The next day, you and Frank were at the bus depot with Amy. She tried to convince Frank to go with her but he refused, saying he didn’t need her on his conscious.

“Does that means he cares?” Amy teased, looking at you with faux shock.

“Even the Grinch’s heart can grow.” You laughed and it got a chuckle out of Frank. “You’re young, Amy. Go have fun, be a kid.”

“I care about you guys, too.” She said genuinely. “I owe you pretty much everything.”

“And you’ll repay me by living your life, okay?” You squeezed her hand.

“Yeah.” She nodded with a forced smile before looking to Frank. “Why did you come after me in the bar that night?”

“The tougher you acted, the more scared you looked.” He shrugged.

“And you?” She focused back on you. “Why’d you stay?”

“You reminded me of someone.” You smiled slightly. “I couldn’t save her, but I could save you…”

You glanced around while Amy and Frank shared a hushed conversation. You caught sight of a familiar figure standing a few benches away. She met your eyes and offered an understanding smile. You nodded and she came closer.

Suddenly, you were pulled into an embrace. One of Amy’s arms was around your neck and the other around Frank. You felt Frank grab onto your arm tightly as Amy was sandwiched between you two. There was a cold chill throughout the embrace and you could hear her sniffles.

“You’ll be okay.” You told her quietly when you pulled away. Gently, you wiped a tear from her cheek.

“She’s lucky to have you.” Amy said sadly. Your brows furrowed and she gave a weak laugh. “June.”

“Take care of yourself.” You smiled sadly.

Frank reached for your hand as Amy went to climb onto the bus. You slid over to sit beside him and a new presence filled your old seat.

“What are you doing here?” You asked her.

“Thought you two would want some company.” June said softly. “Hey, Frank.”

“Hey, Junebug.” He smiled slightly.