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@rvennt-blog
💀
❤ my url graphic / gifset giveaway: @frankcastle
I’m not the one who dies, kid. I’m the one who does the killing.
.
i love you , man.
(requested by: anon)
i. integrityspecialist 💀 ❪ nicola reid. ❫
there’s an air about her, irritation mostly because the pathway she’d been needing to use was blocked off. no explanation. just a bunch of local plod blocking the way with their crossed arms and squared shoulders. accepting defeat, she attempts to find another way around when the unmistakable sound of gunshots can be heard in the direction of where she’d just come from. shouting follows, civvies in a state of panic and excitement and her vision begins to blur. fight or flight plays no part, take cover an order programmed into her as she sprints into a nearby alley and ducks behind a large dustbin. adrenaline courses through her, hands shaking as she attempts to regain her train of thought, mind racing. ironically, it’s not the gunshots that spooked her, but the chaotic noise that came after. shouting, screaming - she finds it stressful. a trigger for the overwhelming worry that overtakes her. especially when it’s unexpected.
deep breath in, deep breath out, she goes to push herself up and away from the stinking trash when something moves behind her. skittish, she staggers back against the bin, hands instinctively searching for something to grab onto as she tries to see what’s happening. it’s a … body ? they’re moving. making sounds, actually, and at the sight of blood she races over to them - before even getting a look at their face. “ oh god, hey ! can y’ hear me ? are you injured mate ? ” / @rvennt / starter call.
it was expected of course, these situations are more common now. once they saw his face. they knew who he was, what he did, and the possibility of being the people responsible for killing the punisher seemed all too good of an opportunity to pass up. of course, frank was just a trophy for them. and before even a single punch was thrown, or a blow taken. the cockiness of these men animals would prove to be their downfall. he’d tried to reason with them, he hadn’t picked a fight with them.
not yet anyway, there’d been no reason. they weren’t affiliated with those he’d hit, or responsible, that he knew of to receive the punishment he dolled out. it was a quick fight, until the gun was pulled out and of course the pendulum swung into the one attacker remaining’s favour. but frank is a military man, he’s already weighed the possibilities of what could happen, how he could get near him without suffering a fatal wound.
it’s managed, but of course he’s shot in two places. easy to remove, but shit do they sting. they never tell you that when you sign up, never tell you it feels like the wound is caught on fire, like some asshole has decided to pour gasoline into that wound and set it aflame. palm is flattened against abdomen, blinking away the exhaustion crashing over him in waves. heavy, quick footsteps closing in on him bring him out of his haze. frank should know better, hell he does know better, but sometimes just sometimes, especially now, after the family, the future he lost : losing his life doesn’t matter now.
❛ m’fine. jus’ fine. ❜ it’s his stupidity really, his innate stubborn nature of who he is that has him staggering to his feet. problem is, it doesn’t last long, the moment his full weight placed upon his injured leg, the second bullet’s aftermath has taken it’s toll. legs give out from beneath him, palms slam into the concrete. ❛ y’should go. now. ( laboured breaths accompany his words. ) i’m i don’t need any help. ❜
(requested by: @pajamasecrets)
The Punisher characters posters ➼ Frank Castle
Red is for anger, strength, violence, courage and love
i. noheroiine 💀 ❪ jessica jones. ❫
she’s seen it ——— people paint the skull over their doors, on their walls, a symbol for the helpless, a means to protect the little guys from the big bad wolves lurking in the shadows. there’s something allegorical in making the boogieman into a protector, because it’s easier than taking destiny by the throat and doing whatever the fuck they please with it. she knows what that’s like; to be idolised for shit you shouldn’t be idolised for. if she closes her eyes, she can hear bones snap. blood under her fingernails, sticky and copperlike. there is something tragic about trauma: there are neat little boxes in which you must fit, coiled tight and small. but maybe the boxes are cardboard thin and the two of them, they were never meant to be contained.
she heaves a sigh ——— matt would have her head for agreeing, but she understands this need to fix mistakes, to neutralise threats. she’s felt it between her ribs, inside her bones, aching and ever present. sometimes, she thinks of trish, she thinks of the betrayal which tastes poisonous on her tongue. it hurts; it’s supposed to hurt. it’s a wound that’s never going to start healing. she wonders if frank castle will find peace once he extracts his vengeance. “ this buddy of yours, that’s the one who made a shitstorm with the fbi, right ?? no one can live in this fucking city without leaving any kind of fingerprint. i’ll pull some strings, there’s someone who owes me. ” it sounds familiar, the name. she scribbles it on a piece of paper laying about, drumming fingers across the wood. when she speaks, there is a raw quality to her voice, strained, like she’s ripping out her heart and presenting it to him. odd, how it’s easier to speak to shadows than beings of flesh and blood. “ i gotta know, though. did it help ?? killing all those assholes. look i’m ——— i’m not judging. i’m no fucking saint. but . . . did it make any of it easier ?? ”
she is far more silent than he expected, then again, frank knows not to underestimate any person he stands across from. judging someone judging a book by it’s cover isn’t smart. it is not a tactical way of handling a mission, it doesn’t prove a single thing about the person. and jessica she is one of those people. regardless of her superior gifts, her powers, whatever they want to call it. jessica jones is an enigma, one frank isn’t necessarily intent on figuring out. after all she is merely someone he requires help from, and in turn she’ll get paid. that’s the nature of this interaction between the two. he isn’t looking for a friend and he’s damn well sure she isn’t. ❛ yeah, that very buddy. ❜ it is a cut that never heals. his friend. his family. his brother responsible for the pain not only to frank but everyone else that came into his warpath. what billy has done . . . was, is and always will be frank’s biggest regret. the possibilities endless that he could have stopped the massacre that had torn his world apart. frank's gaze is almost forlorn, head plunged forward, in part escaped view, weariness now a typical sight as well as a changeless one. ❛ that shit’s that shit’s on me too, i ain’t innocent. i got enough blood on my hands, enough notches in my belt. but i’ll be damned if he stays out continues to hurt people. it ends here. ❜
and then follows the inevitable inquiry into what he’s done has him pause. of course, he knows to expect it now, after all it is what he’s known for : what has made him the punisher. the hero, the villain, the goddamn monster lurking in the shadows. one that has him pause. tongue slipping past the confines of torn tiers. mouth ajar, almost as if to answer the question but he can't seem to find his words, ' did it make any of it easier? ' the golden question with an answer he's not sure he definitively has. ❛ no. ❜ they ain’t with him, he doesn’t wake up to maria’s smile, tuck his little girl in, play ball with his son. ❛ it doesn’t. makes me feel like yeah i did them justice y’know ? i got the sons of bitches who hurt them, made them suffer, KILLED THEM. but they ain’t here, they ain’t ever gonna be again. ❜ it is but a whisper, knees bouncing up and down. he isn’t comfortable discussing this, it hits a far too close to home. ❛ i wanna be involved, when you do your thing. i’m comin’ with. won’t get in your way, but just if he’s there. i ain’t giving him an option to continue living with this shit he did no more. ❜ finally, eyes meet and hold hers : a promise following, ❛ he’s gonna die. ❜
They’re coming after us both now. That’s where you got lucky.
make me choose: [anonymous asked] frank being soft, or frank being violent.
bury a friend // billie eilish
Jon Bernthal in NYC on February 8, 2019
you call it ‘a heinous violation of legal and ethical rules;’ i call it ‘creative problem-solving’
You need to let me be what I’m meant to be.
