Jul 19
Rare Banshee fanart
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Rare Banshee fanart
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BANSHEE — S04E07.
PERSON OF INTEREST — S02E01.
Clay Burton (Banshee) Fan Video - Amish Paradise
Everything I did, I did for you
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" 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚕𝚒𝚚𝚞𝚘𝚛 𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙪𝙥 𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙚 "
“sheriff lucas hood” of cinemax’s banshee investigated by emily independent, private, selective - 18+ - triggering content
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Xoxo ❤️✨
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Sugar Bates : You know you hid up on that mountain because you felt the need to atone for something. And for all we know, you'd still be there if Brock hadn't come and pulled you down. We are cons. We're made to believe that you pay for your sins by getting locked up. But maybe the way to redemption isn't hiding on the mountain. Maybe it's about choosing another road down here with the rest of us.
Lucas Hood : Maybe.
Sugar Bates : The past has kept you locked up long enough. Today there's really only one question left to ask yourself. What are you going to do now?
My taste in men these last three months are starting to concern me. Like each month they're getting more and more... I don't even know what you would call it. Anyways yeah. Berlin... yeah look I dont condone his actions I just think the actor is hot and adorable okay. Dont judge me and my taste in men.
So I did actually start that Banshee/Punisher AU after all *shakes head at self* So far, it’s set post s4 of Banshee, which seemed logical at first but now I get to write why *certain characters * are back in that “godforsaken hellhole”.
For @favrielle who wanted to read it (its just a sample of what I have done) and @spockpandasaurus who used the name “Jigsaw” to refer to Billy’s shattered memories instead of his face
Also, @dreamwritesimagines !
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Upstate Pennsylvania was goddamn cold, he realized with sudden clarity as he leaped from the bus into town. It wasn't the damp chill of New York in the winter, with the smell of the streets and river mixing into the general fug, or the fierce, wild, mountain winters they'd had in Afghanistan. Winter in bumchuck Pennsylvania ("Banshee", the sign had said, and the name sounded good to him) was just cold. It made the stitches under the gauze taped to his face still itch. He was glad the ones on his forehead had gone numb shortly after leaving the warmth of the bus.
Billy Russo hunched his shoulders in the old military surplus parka he'd gotten from the shelter before hopping the bus, pulled his scarf up to cover the bandages over his jaw, and shook his hair where it tumbled from his beanie to hide what it could of the rest of the gauze. Hitching his duffel back over his shoulder, he started trudging down the sidewalk, back to where they'd passed a diner on the way into town. The stitches in his gut were starting to ache again.
Before
It was two weeks after Thanksgiving that he'd finally woken up. Just over three weeks since he'd been in a coma, they'd explained to him. "Do you remember anything that happened?" they'd asked, "you were in a fight, do you remember how you got here?" It was all a big blur, though, but the pain wasn't. They'd kept him pretty doped up the first few days, and from what he'd understood, aside from the broken arm and deep puncture wound to the gut which they said he was lucky hadn't done more damage than it had, he'd been shot in one cheek and the rest of his face had been more or less shredded in the fight. Most of the damage had been to the right side, according to the doctors, but there were more deep gashes near his left ear they were concerned about. They'd talked a lot at him, then they'd gone. There was an armed guard outside the door and no one would meet his eye or even smile and dammit if he could only remember what'd happened, what he'd done, it might make sense why he had the gnawing sense he'd screwed up beyond anything he'd done before.