YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN IN A WORLD YOU'VE GROWN

If you dance with the devil then you haven’t got a clue. For you think you’ll change the ↣ { devil } but the { devil } changes you ↢ Frankie. Twenty-four. Council member of Fall City.

[fighterfrankie]

How Will We Fix Each Other?|| Frasse

[sergeanthart]

A subtle grumble laced with false annoyance escaped him as she climbed into the bed, strands of chestnut hair cascading across his face and the bed shifting with her motion before she finally settled down beside him. He watched her as she lay on her back for a moment, almost letting his eyes fall closed once more, before she was moving again, turning to face him. 

He let out a light breath, shifting his arm beneath the pillow and kneading the fingers of his other hand against closed eyes. “Nothin’ happened,” Jesse answered her in a drawl, nose scrunching as her fingers sifted through his hair before tugging against the strands. “You’re the worst,” he complained, smacking a hand lazily against her forearm before grabbing the blankets and pulling them back up over his shoulders. “Sleeeeep, it’s good for you and shit…” 

Truthfully he knew her worries were more rooted in what could have happened rather than what really did. Luca’s reaction wasn’t one that left a comfortable memory, but in the end nothing had really happened; they had all made it through, safe and sound, and Luca was well on his way to recovering…again. Jesse would check on him again in he morning and all would be well.  At least they still had Luca. 

“Mmmmhmm,” he hummed as her fingers cupped his cheek, eyelids cracking open the slightest bit to look at her with a skeptical glance. “Not too late?” 

[fighterfrankie]

For some reason, Jesse’s bed was so much more comfortable than her own. The way she sunk into it and felt the warmth envelope her, promising a dreamless sleep with no nightmares or memories to haunt her. Or perhaps it was the company that came with it. Like an annoyed old dog dealing with a restless pup, Jesse hemmed and hawed, finally cracking his eye open to give her the attention she demanded. “Not too late,” she confirmed with a grin as she dropped her hand from his cheek in favor of tangling her fingers with his. 

“Although I think you would miss the fuck outta me,” Frankie remarked matter-of-factly, shifting closer to him so that she might enjoy his warmth. At this point she was practically nose-to-nose with him, undaunted by the lack of space between them. This was Jesse, after all. She had grown up with him, he had seen the best and worst parts of her for who knows how many years. If she wasn’t comfortable with him, if she couldn’t bare every single part of herself to him...then what was the point? Her hand grew warm in his, her thumb slowly tracing circles on the rough skin. 

After a pause, the small brunette voiced a question which had been bothering her since the -- memory she had wanted to push back had occurred. Frankie pressed her forehead against his, almost childlike as she peered into his eyes to make sure he was awake. “You’d probably miss me if I died, huh?” She queried, a slight smirk painted on the corner of her lips. “C’mon, these are the questions asked at all those sleepovers that I never had. Or got invited to.” 

The only sleepovers that she ever had were the ones that Luca and Jesse put on themselves. She wasn’t even invited to those ones, but forced her way in through sheer will. Pretty sure she earned the Most Annoying Sibling Award.

[axelmckinnon]

There was very little from the movement and appearance of the other that indicated he shouldn’t shoot them right this second. Their gait was shuffled, lurching, not unlike that of an Infected bumbling along. Blood seemed to coat their flesh, fresh and old, from who knew what. Their own or victims, it wasn’t really clear. But regardless something kept Axel’s finger hovering over the trigger and calling out to the other, poised and ready but not yet firing. 

If there was no response or that familiar moan then he wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet through their brains, but he waited for that confirmation before doing anything. If they somehow did turn out to be a living being they sure looked like they’d need a hand. 

A part of him considered that it could be Xavier or any one of his people - and boy would he have fun getting rid of them…

She stumbled to a stop in response to his words, fingers moving through the air as if attempting to find something to balance herself but coming up with nothing. When the words were finally produced in response to his question they were spoken in a whisper and what he heard he knew couldn’t be true.  It’s Frankie Rose…This used to be my home.

Axel swallowed hard, teeth biting firmly into his lower lip. This had to be some kind of cruel joke. He’d seen her die, watched the blood pour from her flesh. Frankie was dead, so what was this? What kind of game were they playing? His finger tightened on the trigger. “Frankie Rose is dead, I watched her die. You have about five seconds to tell me who you really are or you’ll have a bullet in your brain.” 

[fighterfrankie]

It was probably bad that she had taught herself how to respond to things in anger. There was no careful consideration of words, no hands held up in surrender. Instead she bent over and beat her fist on the ground in frustration, pain, and hurt. She could see his expression from where she remained on the ground, her teeth gritting at the pain in his voice. Pain masked by anger -- a mask that she was all too familiar with. But the sound of the anger in his voice only served to press the knife deeper into her heart because how she had missed that voice. When she had thought about returning she had thought she’d hear nothing but relief and happiness. The anger was the knife of reality cutting deeper into her daydreams. 

“I have about five seconds?” She yelled in her hoarse voice, lifting her head from the ground and as she slowly sat up (it was so fucking difficult because she could barely even raise her head). “Axel fucking McKinnon, this is my home and so fucking help me, if you kill me right when I just made it here I will come back to haunt your ass until you join me six feet fucking under.” 

If that didn’t prove it was her, then perhaps he should shoot her. She would rather die than see him be so incredibly thick as to doubt that she could survive Xavier’s knife. 

And there it was again, that rush of adrenaline that was siphoned off of her steady rage. She scrambled onto her feet, only to fall back down again in a heap as black spots danced before her eyes, tinged with an all-too-familiar red. If Axel wouldn’t believe that it was her, then fine, she would prove it to him even if it meant crawling on her knees. But when her body refused to cooperate with her, her lower half not responding as she practically tried dragging herself onto her feet, she gave a low growl of frustration. 

“Fine -- you know what, if I’m going to die I’d rather you kill me than Xavier. If I’m going to die I’d rather it be in your hands. Just hurry up and do it, you fucking idiot.”

[octaviagifs]

Octavia Blake Alphabet: T is for Touch

[fighterfrankie]

How Will We Fix Each Other?|| Frasse

[sergeanthart]

Luca should never have been there at all. They had foolishly exposed him to alcohol - dangled it right in front of his face, practically dumped it down his throat. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that he’d found Luca hours later drunk off his ass. 

But even worse they had put him right in the middle of a war zone. Sure, not a single one of them had expected what had occurred, but it had directly caused a breakdown. Jesse should’ve made sure he was out of there as soon as the threat had appeared. Then he wouldn’t have gotten his hands on a gun, he wouldn’t have been so affected - and he wouldn’t have raised a weapon on his sister. 

It was a good thing Jesse had been there to stop him from doing something he’d undoubtedly regret. Not to mention…Jesse wasn’t sure what he’d do if something had happened to Frankie. 

He had been asleep when she’d first arrived, but ever since returning from his service he practically slept with one eye open. As soon as the door had cracked open from the frame his eyes had popped open to find her lingering in the doorway. His heart had jumped in his chest with a fear that the visitor at this hour was unfriendly, but finding Frankie there allowed him to settle an instant later. He watched as she stepped into the room and pushed the door closed gently behind her before his eyes slid closed once more lazily. 

The silence of the room made her muffled words sound loud, or loud enough. It took him a moment to respond to her request, brain still languid and heavy with sleep, before he clumsily slid over to make space for her beside him. He looked back up at her with tired eyes before he pulled the covers back, a gesture for her to join him. 

“It’s al’ight,” He murmured in a deep voice, hoarse without having been used for the past several hours. His free hand ruffled fingers through his hair, musing the strands up even more than they’d already been as he waited for her to climb into bed with him.

[fighterfrankie]

Her bright hues lingered on his for a moment, unconsciously holding her breath as she waited for him to respond -- either kick her sorry ass to the curb or scoot over to make more room for her. She ignored the fact that she breathed a little easier and already felt the heaviness of sleep weigh on her limbs when his voice drew her in. That was Jesse, for you. Always putting anything else aside for the people that he cared for, for the people that he loved. Even for those he didn’t love. That was why he had made such a good soldier. 

Clearing her throat, she closed the distance between them and hesitated for a second before slipping into the bed with him. Frankie laid on her back for a couple of seconds before sighing uncomfortably because fuck it, nothing was really satisfying her tonight. Not when the image played itself over and over again, not when she thought about what she should have done instead of what had happened. Glancing over at Jesse, she turned on her side and faced him, biting her lip distractedly.

“Jesse?” She whispered quietly, her eyes scanning his features. “I can’t stop thinkin’ about what the fuck happened today and I need you to distract me so I can shut my fuckin’ eyes for more than thirty seconds.”

Her eyes caught on his hair, on the freshly-woken look that he seemed to be working. Like an impatient child that demanded his attention, she ran her fingers through his hair and tugged on it gently, a light smirk causing the edges of her lips to curl. “Sorry, but you’re not sleeping until I sleep. That’s what happens when you get me as a fuckin’ roommate, love.” 

Slowly her hand dropped from his hair to cup his face, the smile becoming somewhat apologetic. “You have the option to put in a change of roommate request.”

[axelmckinnon]

@fighterfrankiearchives

Time passed with almost no recognition for Axel after that morning. It still ebbed and flowed but Axel just rode it out, let it take him where it pleased. He moved like a robot of sorts, threw himself into his work so that he couldn’t be able to feel anymore; took his shifts at the fence and more, went on the scheduled runs and stepped in on any others that he could. Helped around the city, acted as if everything was okay - but it wasn’t, it wouldn’t be. In the short period of time he had free to himself he couldn’t sleep, and when he did it was tormented with nightmares. 

The pain numbed after a while. Days that melded into weeks that pooled into months blurred by. Eventually the hurt washed away, replaced with nothing but a dull ache in his chest and an emptiness in his heart. He hadn’t known her long but he’d come to know her well, and having Frankie slip through his fingertips was the biggest mistake he’d made yet. She was something special to him. He could’ve done something. He could’ve saved her. 

Or maybe he couldn’t have - but he had deluded himself into thinking it was his fault, his fault that she was dead. Not those who had attacked Fall City and torn it to pieces, not Xavier or any of his men. It was his fault because he couldn’t be there when she needed him most. 

But this was the new reality and it was what he would have to live with from now on. Xavier had disappeared, the attack on Fall City nothing but a distant memory, and they had been forced to move on. 

So he took up his post at the gates just like any other night, pacing back and forth at the post, kicking up dirt with his boot. It had gone like almost any other night so far until a noise had him raising his gun, pointed in the direction of the entryway. His first thought was a clicker or something of that sort; it more than often was just one that had wandered a little too close to their borders, maybe attracted by the noise of the group. But the figure in the distance walked with some authority, clear cognitive thought. Not infected. He squinted, barrel of his weapon trained on the approaching person.

“Identify yourself. Now.” 

[fighterfrankie]

There comes a point where people sometimes just stop living and start surviving. For Frankie, it’s like a switch in her brain where everything is tainted red, red, red. But that also might be because blood had poured down her face and impeded her vision. People always forget that headbutting someone can cause as much pain as it gives -- and unfortunately for Frankie, despite her many years of fighting, was not able to properly headbutt Xavier. It was fucking ridiculous how life seemed to always have a plan to kick her while she’s down. But here she was, once more giving The Universe the bird because, unlike most people thought, she had something to live for. There were others in her life who needed her just as much as she needed them.

She had spent so many days waiting, suffering, waiting, then suffering some more. There was no knowing when it would stop, no knowing when she was able to lift her head and bare her teeth at those who had held her captive. They had mocked her, thrown the concept of death at her feet only to have her to her head with a fuck you spat their way. That small show of will and defiance was what had kept her going for so long -- until she broke and ended up with a pool of bodies and blood at her feet. Xavier and his men had taken so much from her -- from her city and she had been helpless for so long.

Until she wasn’t. 

Frankie stumbled along, her sense of direction the only dependable thing at this point. Her mind kept on playing tricks on her, her fingers reaching out for familiar faces that weren’t there. The sounds of their voices kept her awake at night, begged her to return to a home that might not be there any longer. Yet she continued on, like a revenant of the new world -- as much of an infected mind as the rest of them. But unlike them, it was an act of defiance for those who had tried to break her fucking back, a big fuck you to the world for fucking her in the ass time and time again.

Identify yourself. Now.

Her head lifted as her feet stumbled to a stop, her hand wearily reaching out but finding nothing but air. The brunette woman’s knees gave out as she let out a breath, coming out of her as sure as if she had been punched in the stomach...and she was very familiar with how that felt at this point. “It’s Frankie Rose,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from disuse. “This used to be my home.”

[queenlymusings]

            With every broken bone,                             I swear I LIVED. 

[wnq-writers]

She was wrapped in glittering barbwire and explosives. Each step she took threatened self-destruction.

A.L Nash (via wnq-writers)

*is cute and perfect but also unstable, violent and self-destructive*

[galgadotssss-deactivated2016071]

[inchiavettare]

I walk to the borders on my own                        to fall in the water just like a stone                                  Chilled to the marrow in them bones

                                       {Why do I go here all alone?}

[anissagraces]

gif request meme ✩ @clarkescoven requested the 100 + favorite character “what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.”

[wouldyouliketoseemymask]

[fighterfrankie]

How Will We Fix Each Other?|| Frasse

Every time she closed her eyes, it was as if the images would rewind and play all over again. The image of Luca on the night of the bonfire was robbing her of her sleep. There was no way for her to get a moment of rest when the thought of your own brother killing you loomed in her head every single night. This night was no different from the rest of them, save for the fact that she was done. Done with being tired, done with the nightmares, done with the apocalypse. All she wanted to do was relax for once and s l e e p. It was as if the last time she had gotten a good, restful sleep was back in the clinic with Jesse. As she sat on the edge of the bed, she paused then looked over her shoulder at the wall that separated her room from his.

It only took her a few seconds to make her mind up.

Grabbing the pillow from her bed, she walked over to his room, her feet padding against the floor silently. When she opened the door, she poked her head in, an uncertain frown on her face. What if he didn’t want her there? She was probably bothering him or something. But she was just so damn exhausted of waking up with a pain in her -- a ghost pain. The pain of the possibility that she had nearly died at the hands of her own brother. Slipping into the room, she closed the door behind him, hugging the pillow to her chest.

“Can’t fuckin’ sleep,” she mumbled into the pillow, her voice coming out muffled because of it. “So scoot over...please?”

There was a pause as she fiddled with the hem of her top, her eyes avoiding his so he couldn’t see how red they were. They had always been a dead give away of her lack of sleep and she didn’t want him to worry. “Didn’t mean to wake you I just -- I need you right now.” Her bright hues lingered on his for a moment before returning to the hem of her top. For some reason she felt awkward and wary of him -- as if their previous encounter (argument?) had instilled something between them that she wasn’t aware of. 

[axelmckinnon]

Axel had lost count somewhere around fifty, one hundred dead. Body after body had been dragged, carried, thrown out of the city and deposited in a pile a short distance away. Body after body until his limbs begged for mercy, spiked with piercing pain through torn, overexerted muscles - and still he continued. He continued until the task was complete and the infected burned, a secondary bonfire to go up in flames that night. This one warranted no celebration.

Once it was all said and done Axel stood at the gates with a bottle held in his hand, near emptied as he tipped it to his lips one last time. Their city had gone unprotected tonight because the patrol had failed in their duties. Someone intended to be at the post had not been and they had paid for it. Not dearly as they could have, but dearly enough. They had wasted rounds and rounds of ammo, they had suffered some injuries, and they had lost one of their own. 

If it ever happened again, they were fucked.

He studied the gate another moment longer, finishing off the last of his drink before tossing the bottle against the concrete so that it gave a satisfying shatter, splaying out pieces of glass in every which direction. “Get out of here,” He growled at the one who had approached only moments before, whom he heard but had ignored until now, “I’m not in the mood for a bloody chit chat.”

[fighterfrankie]

She never flinched but for some reason the sound of the glass shattering --

       well, she practically jumped out of her s k i n.

“Calm the fuck down, Axel.” She muttered tiredly, rubbing her face as she allowed her shoulders to sag a bit. There was no bite to her voice and it actually came out as more of a wary warning. For some reason the night seemed more biting, the air even colder than before now that the warmth of the bonfire was forgotten. Even Axel’s usual warmth with her was lost now amidst the chaos of everything that had happened. But she couldn’t blame him -- the night hadn’t been the best for her as well.What with her brother pointing his gun at her and all. 

The longer she stared at the broken bottle the more she realized just how broken they all were. They were sharp glass shards meant to cut, not mend. At least that’s how she thought of herself and her brother. Same bottle, different shards, never meant to be useful just meant to be thrown away. A low sigh escaped her as she ran her fingers through her hair, rubbing her hands along her bare arms to gather warmth. 

Her now dark hues raised from the bottle to linger on his back. “You wanna talk ‘bout it?” Frankie’s voice was soft as she rubbed the sides of her temple with the heel of her hand. But her eyes drifted down again. There was no light smile on her face, no determined gleam in her eye. There was nothing except a blank expression, completely neutral as she waited for the bite in his words to be tempered and the anger in his voice to regress. 

[fractuspuer-archive]

        oɴce a killer,                  ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs a killer.

               my hands are ᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ in blood.                                       and not even your salty tears                                            of ƒσяgινєηєѕѕ and ℓσνє,                                                                       can ωαѕн away                                                                 the ＰＡＩＮ I have   c a u s e d .

[qxross-deactivated20150802]

Quentin was grateful to actually be eating and on a consistent basis. He hated hunger, the way his stomach felt like a hollow pit that shook with every growl. The rations they were given at Fall City weren’t large, but it kept him focused enough between meals. But someone didn’t feel the same way, mumbling a comment under their breath and being repaid with a snappy retort from the woman sitting next to him. “If I were ya’, I’d back down, mate.” Quentin wiggled his brows in the others’ direction. “She might beat your arse and I can’t say I’d help ya’ out." 

[fighterfrankie]

“Kissin’ ass isn’t gonna fuckin’ help you,” she murmured with a slight smile -- nothing more than a little lift of the corner of her lips. “But it certainly does sound fuckin’ cute when comin’ from you.” 

Frankie glanced in the direction from which the comment had come, a curious light gleaming in her eyes. This face was yet another unfamiliar one. They seemed to be piling up more and more, one after another. In one way it was a good thing that there were so many people that were pulling through the middle of the apocalypse. Yet what had they done to pull through? Some survived by pure luck -- others, like her, had fought tooth and nail to get to the sanctuary known as Fall City. 

“If you’re gonna flirt with me like that -- sayin’ I kick ass ‘nd stuff -- you really should give me your name first.”

[elliottxdavies-deactivated20151]

He looked over to match the voice with the face. The view was tremendously improved. Elliott was not a delicate creature. The single most horrifying image that continued to haunt him was that of his mother in a pool of blood and hacked into pieces that wouldn’t fit back together again. It was seared on the backs of his retinas, which caused him to want to keep his eyes open for as many hours of the day as possible. However, a new crop of fresh memories had been fighting for space in his mind recently. Throats ripped open by teeth that didn’t seem so sharp, arms carried at exaggerated and wholly unnatural angles, hollow dark pits where eyes once were. More shit to add to his nightmares. 

And so.. improved view yes but he felt there was an underlying tone to it all that was similar.. in here, out there.. all the same thing. 

He moved, taking up a seat across from the woman and with his back to the fellow he’d been watching. ‘’I’ll take you up on the offer.’’ He had a million questions, may as well launch into them. ‘’So is there actually someone in charge here or just a guy behind a curtain who will ultimately be disappointing and not even worth the hassle of discovering?’’ 

[fighterfrankie]

A slight smirk curled the corner of her mouth as he moved across from her, bright hues analyzing him for a moment before returning to her food. If she thought that the man would prove to be a problem, she would have incapacitated him within a second. That or shoved the seat out from under him before he could sit down. She didn’t recognize him so of course she would be wary. but maybe she didn’t recognize him because he was new. Huh. That thought occurred to her rather late. But it wasn’t her fault that she was struggling trying to get this whole greenhouse shit into business. Finding the materials necessary had been a bitch. Constructing it was an even bigger one. The biggest bitch was the fact that she was trying to do this all h e r s e l f.

Slowly she allowed her gaze to lift to his, a slight frown set upon her lips.

“S’cuse you,” she scoffed with a disbelieving rise of her brow. “I am not a fuckin’ man -- why do you assume s’fuckin’ man in charge? I’ll have you know that there are only two men on the council and it is run by some of the toughest bitches you will ever meet.” Frankie was a tough bitch, Trix, Dahlia, Charlotte. The toughest ones that Fall City had to offer. “People sometimes, I fuckin’ swear.” She muttered to herself as she set down her food. “Got any more questions where you assume the answer?”