#prisoner616

[gatecoeur]

making it canon now that Arrie hugs Frank to say goodbye every time.

Every.

Single.

Time.

[murdcck]

@prisoner616 ​ cont.

        MATT REALLY SHOULDN’T BE CONDEMNING SOMEONE FOR BEING JUST AS STUBBORN AS HE WAS. Frank Castle was a freight train refusing to cease for anyone. The thing about Murdocks — we always get back up. Maybe they did have more in common than Matt is willing to admit. “ Fuck you, Frank, ” he snaps back, grinds his teeth so hard his head begins to ache. “ You won’t be good to anyone if you keep going like this. ”  

[noblegassd]

( @prisoner616 )( cont’d from here )

Max’s and Pumpkin’s heads together were big enough to take up Malik’s entire midsection, but the teen would never dare to complain about it. Not even when he was forced to lie on the floor just to accommodate for the two of them.

“Fuck yeah dude, that’s what I’m sayin. Like, Obélix is SUPER good at judging people ; he didn’t like one of my exes. All I’m sayin’ is that The White House should totally have a designated dog to sniff out who’s a shitty president. Kinda like that groundhog for groundhog day that figures out if winter’s longer or shorter.” 

[gatecoeur]

⊕ but add prisoner616 into the mix too.

{ @sevenbulletsavior & @prisoner616 }{ send me a ⊕ for an aesthetic graphic for our muses. }

[gatecoeur]

frank and arrie’s first conversation

“You better start explainin’ yourself.”

A long moment of silence entered the room before the all-too familiar click of a hammer rang out.

“Well!?”

“Stop, please! You... You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Oh yeah? Try me, kid.”

Arrie’s legs were shaking from having to stand still for too long. She knew he couldn’t see the blood that was starting to drip down her injured leg. Her breath was shaking as she tried to find the right words to say. This wasn’t how she imagined she was going to die.

“I’m... I’m a shapeshifter.”

“Bullshi-”

“I’ll prove it! Turn on the lights. You had a dog that was shot in the leg, didn’t you?”

The Punisher wordlessly stomped over to a light switch, the gun still level with her head. God, it was so hard to stand. He looked Arrie up and down, eyes widening as he saw the bloody pant leg. 

“What the-” Arrie refused to lower her hands as Frank looked around to try and find the dog in question. When he didn’t, he made his way back to her, the barrel now just within her periphery. “What the fuck is going on here? You spyin on me?”

“What?! No, why would I-?!”

“I’d pick your next words real carefully, kid,” he growled, the barrel pressed against her skull.

“Look, I’m a mutant, okay?! I was attacking a mutant trafficking ring, and I got shot while I was getting away. I got tired, so I passed out behind that dumpster where you found me. I was expecting for animal control to find me, not the fucking Punisher!”

Another moment of silence. Arrie felt herself still shaking, but her legs had gone numb at this point. She really was going to die at the hands of The Punisher, and all out of one big fucking misunderstanding. What a way to go. 8 months on the fucking run, and THIS was how she dies. 

“Look, if you’re going to kill me, just do it already. No one in this fucking city cares if I’m gone anyways.”

It’s another moment before Frank growled to himself and put the gun away. Arrie felt overwhelmed with so much relief that she nearly fell, but caught the island countertop before she could.

“Does that mean I can go now?”

“With your leg still lookin like that? Fuck no. Get on the couch.”

“But-”

“Kid, just get on the fuckin couch. You’re gonna tell me who you are, what you know about that traffickin ring, and in exchange, I’ll patch you up and take ‘em out, okay?”

[gatecoeur]

Praise

{ @missmxrcy​ }{ send a word and i will write a drabble or headcanon based on it }

“You’re still too tense.”

Arrie sighed out loudly in frustration, putting the safety on before turning her back on her still untouched target to look at Frank. She wasn’t frustrated with him though, no. Arrie was frustrated with herself. 

Years and years of martial arts training had taught her to relax, but as soon as a gun was in her hands, everything changed. She hated guns. Frank knew that, but Frank also insisted she learn, because of what happened last time. And he was right - without her powers, she was just a human.

“Don’t let it get to you. Safety off, try again.”

With another sharp sigh, Arrie rolled her shoulders and got back into position, the safety clicking off as her arms were held straight forward. She didn’t glance over at Frank - just waited for him to give some pointers before she could shoot.

“Knees bent, kid, just like you’re fighting. Sights to eyes, not eyes to sights. Don’t bunch up your shoulders. And remember, exhale on the shot. You got all the time in the world right now - just breathe and aim for center mass.”

Just breathe. You can do that. You were taught how to breathe since you were 7. Breathe in... Breathe out. FOCUS.

For a few seconds, nothing happened. Arrie allowed herself to reconnect with her body - to feel the life in her lungs flow through her veins, feeding each limb with energy. Frank didn’t even move a muscle, as if he was taking the shot with her. Breathe out...

The bullet flew and made a familiar clink of metal hitting metal, right where her eyes had directed it. Arrie stared at the tiny dent for a while as the gun came down and the safety clicked on again, shocked that she had managed to do it.

“Told you you could do it,” Frank complimented with a grin. “And right through the heart too. Were you aimin’ for that?”

Arrie quietly nodded, mirroring his smile, though hers was a bit more sheepish.

“Good. Keep it up. We just gotta make sure you can keep it consistent, and then we can start drills.”

[gatecoeur]

Now I want to know how Arrie met Frank Castle.

{ holy fucc it’s a wild anon }{ hahaha GET READY KIDS, IT’S LORE TIME }

Alright, gonna answer this ooc cuz I can, but TL;DR, Arrie met Frank Castle because the man’s got a soft spot for dogs.

So, to elaborate, Arrie started vigilante-ing in NYC almost immediately after she moved to Queens. Any time she caught wind of a mutant trafficking ring, or an underground genome project, or one of the anti-mutant groups trying to weasel their way into somewhere they shouldn’t be, she was on it. Being only one person though, and not really knowing anyone outside of her minimal clientele at the time, she couldn’t always shut such operations down - only hack away at them, piece by piece.

Well, one operation she kept being a pain in the ass to was a mutant trafficking ring that used the city’s piers as their main means of trade. They were smart enough to keep moving around though, and Arrie couldn’t figure out where their HQ was.

One of her many raids lead her to Pier 97 in the Hell’s Kitchen area, but during her own escape, Arrie had taken a bullet - her right hind leg to be specific, as she was in the form of a German Shepherd when it happened. She didn’t even realize it until she tried to shapeshift back into her human form, after putting quite the distance between her and the piers. The adrenaline had been blocking out all the pain up until that point.

It was rainy, she was limping due to a bullet in her leg, and was too far from home to attempt to fix herself up. Having been in similar situations before though, Arrie decided to curl up behind a dumpster and try to preserve some strength, banking on either animal control or someone else finding her soon enough. 

Enter Frank Castle. Arrie didn’t know how much time had passed since she laid down, or even where Frank came from. In fact, she had no clue who he was, other than that he was a man with another dog who had a bit of blood on his hands when he decided to save her. He took her to his apartment and patched her up with a surprising expertise. Arrie should’ve left as soon as she could. She knew she should’ve, but curiosity had gotten the better of her, especially when the guy had an almost permanent scent of dried blood and gun powder.

It didn’t take too long for her to figure it out. The police radio. The practically nocturnal sleep cycle that rarely kept him home. The almost obsessive checking of the news... The final nail in the coffin though was the one day Frank’s coat, which was usually kept closed whenever he got home, revealed a bulletproof vest with white paint that dripped down the chest.

The Punisher. FUCK. Arrie had been lying in THE PUNISHER’S APARTMENT for the past few days. What was she going to do? He’d KILL her if he found out the truth. She was still limping a bit, but she had to leave NOW. 

So Arrie waited. She waited until Frank had been in bed for at least an hour to make her escape, but shapeshifting was hard while she was still injured, and it’s not like she had any other choice - She couldn’t unlock the front door as a dog. 

And Arrie thought she was being quiet. There was NO WAY an unconscious man could’ve heard the soft hisses of pain, but Frank Castle was a light sleeper, and Arrie was barely halfway to the door when she heard him get up. Her hands slowly raised - she didn’t see the gun, but she knew it would be there. Arrie remembered that conversation like it was yesterday.

[gatecoeur]

{ @prisoner616 }{ cont’d from here }

The air was already thick with the stink of gasoline, it wouldn’t take much to set the place alight, just the lighter in Frank’s hand.

It sparks three times before the wick catches, Frank holding the small flame between them, almost handing it to Arrie. “not this time, Firebug.” He tosses it into the pool of accelerant, the blue flames spreading the second the lighter hit the fumes, fire licking around the edges of the door and further beyond within seconds.

“it’s gonna be like the fourth of July over here in a minute, time to go.”

Arrie got visibly giddy over throwing the lighter before Frank ruined that for her. She pouted and crossed her arms like an upset kid. Whether or not it was for the comedic effect though was really hard to tell, in all honesty.

“You’re the fucking worst sometimes,” she complained as she watched the floor turn blue with flames.

She lingered for a bit longer than she probably should have, barely registering what Frank said due to her saltiness. Not that it was that much of a worry though ; she could easily make herself fire-proof.

“I’d race you to the van, but I think we both know who’d win,” she teased.