lethalsubjects

[lethalsubjects]

on the cards today.... frank down right refusing to fight captain america bc of how much respect he has for him ik this blog is mainly punisher max based but i think it still stands.... bc i said so. and i jst wanna talk abt it bc i love frank

BUT!!

frank isn't ever one to back down from a fight. its rare he ever thinks he cant win, and even if the odds are stacked against him he'll fight tooth and nail until he does win (at some point i'll go into the whole 'he's chosen by death' thing bc im obsessed w it but not now).

no matter what, steve rogers is one of the only people he will always refuse to fight. who he wont even lift a finger against.

for one, because he knows no matter how battered he gets, steve won't kill him - which is one of the reasons frank respects him.

but steve rogers stands for everything frank had once believed. frank WAS steve at one point, when he first joined the military.

but cap is everything frank knows he can never be. everything he'd once wanted to be, before he fell into the hellish depths of his debilitating craving for combat. frank joined the military because he shared similar ideals with cap - he was a man with an innate sense of justice and patriotism. but the things he did, and started to enjoy doing, soon changed him to a man who simply lived for the fight. who lived for war. who came to view a warzone as more of a home than the one he shared with his wife and kids. he was trained to be a predator, and a predator he became.

frank himself has likened what he does to that of a serial killer - referring to himself a 'glorified' serial killer that kills only to satiate his bloodlust, and not to make any actual difference in the world. any change that comes from his killing just so happens to be a byproduct of his chosen demographic to slaughter. yes, he does care for women and children and those affected by thing such as human trafficking -

- but he'll be the first to admit they arent the sole reason he does what he does. again, helping them just a 'happy' byproduct of him choosing to kill the worst of the worst people. if he hadn't gotten so enamoured and obsessed with killing he would not be doing what he's doing.

and it's what makes steve a far better man than him. he does what he does because he CARES for people. he doesn't kill, he doesn't maim, he doesn't take pleasure in killing. not like frank does. because frank craves it. he needs it like he needs air.

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he's so fucking huge it's not even funny no wonder people are terrified of him what is this man feeding himself

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frank; steadily losing feeling in his body, hours away from dying

me, giggling; he looks so silly. goofy guy. little man.

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FRANK CASTLE

the way he plans everything down to a T. but anything can change, or anything can happen that could cause max to leave earlier than he's meant to. frank has a perfectly clear shot of him at that point which, despite his careful planning, he is no doubt aware that in the hour window he has it could change. but he won't turn away someone, especially not a little girl, who needs his help. even with how terribly awful max is and how hard - though not impossible - it would be for him to get him on the cruise rather than right there, right now. the way innocents always take prevalence over targets.

even though he's keeping a careful watch on max, he's still attentive to her. making sure she doesnt know he's in any kind of rush - he isnt rushing and disregarding her while trying to find her old man. and he isnt trying to pawn her off onto some stranger to take care of, which as well jst shows how confident he is in his abilities and his planning. he knows people. he knows bad people and how they act. how strict they are when it comes their plans - because they think it saves them. they think frank castle - the punisher - cant get them if they just plan. but he can and he will.

the way he cant help but see lisa in becky. his sweet little blonde lisa, who's life he unknowingly traded to get the war he's always wanted. the war he's been fighting since the picnic in the park. hell, even before that. the flashes of lisa's bloodstained face, the gore that was her intestines spewing from the gaping hole in her stomach. he doesnt have to buy the doll (even tho be doesnt actually buy it) but he does because he's a fucking SOFTIE!!!!

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he's so silly <3

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nothing you do will ever comvince me that you're truly heartless, mister frank castle!! the way after this, despite his own injuries from the explosion, he proceeds to call over a medic and then instruct him on what to do to keep this man - this random stranger he's never met before - alive. regardless of whether or not he could get caught or recognised by any of the medics, firefighters or slowly trickling in cops. because innocent people r a weakness of his :(

the way he's so willing to stick his hand in this guys gaping chest cavity to PLUG HIS ARTERY WITH HIS OWN THUMB!! the way it isnt even the first time he's done it with no hesitation :(

he doesn't even help him survive because he's a potential witness. the bomb was planted hours before. whether he died or not, no information he'd have would be pertinent to any investigation. not frank's, not the cops. whether he lived or died would have no outcome.

no matter what he says, frank helped from the goodness - or what little scraps remain - of his heart.

[lethalsubjects]

the five widows arc will never not make me sad about frank. yes, his whole thing is less about fighting crime and more about fighting his own personal war. he kills the truly bad criminals because they deserve it, but his intention isn't to stop crime.

he knows that there will always be someone there to take the place of whatever mafia boss or drug cartel leader he kills. he doesn't care about systemic issues that cause crime, or doing anything to fix it. he's fighting his own one man war. without a war there is nothing for him. he is nothing without something to fight. something to kill. he's antsy as he waits for the next replacement to show up with fresh canon fodder in the form of blindly loyal followers.

but he DOES care, deep down, even though he'll never admit it. the way he talks about jenny after the five widows incident ""goodbye, i thought. you strange, sad creature. if i could, i'd kill every single one of them. i'd wipe them out. and you'd never have had to exist at all."" he can only imagine what she went through to cause her to go to the lengths she did to get back at them all - telling her story was only a glimpse into the hell she must of endured.

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BOLO

appeal to his one vulnerability - protecting the innocent.

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THE BEGINNING OF THE END!

captain frank castle never considered himself to be, what people would consider, 'insane'. despite the countless tours of sheer horror he'd endured, or the hundreds of lives that had been taken by his ferocity.

'i can give it to you, frank--'

at least... not the type of insane that would have him hearing voices. the stereotypical type of being crazy; batshit. cuckoo. loony. whatever the doctors called it these days.

'--there'll be a price. but nothing is free.'

the feeling of an eyeball bursting beneath the unrelenting pressure of his thumb is nothing to him. the shovel simultaneously tearing its way through skull and grey matter even less so.

'say no and you're one more k.i.a on a hill that no one cared about to start with.'

it's him, but it isn't. they're his thoughts, in his head, but they're not. it sounds like him, but it doesn't. it thinks like him, so it must be him. the strength he fights with, the brutality with which he tears through enemy after enemy?

'say yes--'

the sheer determination is him. the ability to fight against hundreds of enemy combatants with unwavering will, regardless of odds, is undoubtedly captain frank castle. that's what his men would say.

yet his lack of exhaustion and the ability to fight through the four bullet holes seeping hot, sticky blood through his vest? that's not him. he was good, but surely not that good.

'--and i'll give you what you've wanted all these years.'

another swing of the shovel, another mandible dislodged and flying across the corpse littered battlefield from the sheer force of impact.

what he's always wanted.....

""a happy family.""

it isn't his first thought, like it should be. it isn't his dearly beloved pregnant wife and his sweet four year old daughter that flash in front of his eyes.

'but you have to say it--'

it's war.

it's the horror he's face to face with right now.

its the adrenaline.

it's the fight.

it's the thrill he gets from being the ultimate predator.

it's the overwhelming stench of gunpowder, metal and smouldering corpses that make his lips curl with every heaving breath that filled his lungs with a familiar, suffocating ache.

it's the deafening blasts of f4 fighter bombers dropping hundreds, if not thousands, of pounds of napalm on the battleground.

on his battleground.

'say it--'

it's the burning adrenaline that lights his every nerve on fire at the height of the battle, when every kill is the difference between life and death.

it's the wet blood that trails down his cheeks. that soaks into his clothes in a way that made it feel as though he'd just swam laps. the acrid stench of hot iron overriding his every sense.

maybe before the war it would of been his answer. when he was just a boy: all bright eyed and bushy tailed. when his old man took him to church and taught him the word of the lord. when he went to fight for honour and his country, and not for the thrill of being the predator he'd been trained to become.

top of the food chain.

'say it--'

another low, animalistic growl as his heart thunders in his chest, the agonising burn of bullets lodged into his flesh comparable to that of a paper cut to the beast that was captain frank castle.

'a war that lasts forever. a war that never ends.'

a battle cry roars from the depths of his chest. from the belly of the insatiable beast. a ferocious sound that's more monster than it is human.

'but you have to say the word, frank-'

teeth grounding together, the voice was all frank could hear over the billowing flames that surrounded him. the screams of agony and thundering of bombs was nothing but background noise as his gaze flickered to the wave of combatants still barreling towards him.

spit flying through his grit teeth, exhilaration swelled in his chest as his grip tightened around the shovel that had come to replace the broken m16 at his feet.

there was no more time to deliberate. it was now or never. either he died on this god forsaken battlefield or he didn't.

with more conviction than he'd ever had before, the singular word uttered in that moment would change the trajectory of his life forever.

"yes."