#just Marc Being A Mood

Somethin about puppy dog eyes.

okay i’m awake time to write for my silly little phone spiders

how it felt to watch john walker HURL himself in front of bucky to shield him from bullets during their fight against sentry

I hope you heal from that thing you didn’t think was a big deal but slowly impacted your life significantly.

the red means i love you — frank castle

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

warnings: violence! like a lot of violence.. and detailed accounts of said violence, reader goes insane, mentions of murder, trauma, reader is a past widow for the red room, Y/N usage, kidnapping, established relationship, fluff, standard the punisher warnings.

authors note: hii theree! so this one is kind of insane, i may have went just a tad bit overboard, but y’know. thank you anon for this request that this fic is based on! this story is heavily based on the song, ‘the red means i love you’ by madds buckley, so give it a listen if you’d like. much love to you all, i hope you all enjoy this !

masterlist

You panted, your hand pulling the machete out of the last man’s chest. Your vision was still hazy, and you didn’t exactly feel like you were in your body.

But, that’s how you always felt when you killed.

As you gathered your bearings, your eyes began to dart around the room— and you realized how many men you had just taken out.

“Motherfucker,” You groaned as the pain began to set in due to the knife that was currently in your thigh. One of them must of done it when you were distracted, and your adrenaline was far too high for you to register it.

You no longer had that problem, it hurt like a bitch. But, you’ve had worse— a lot worse, and you could handle it. So you did was you were trained to do: push the emotions and pain away get the damn job done.

You had to. For Frank.

You see, he was taken by God knows who. You and Frank had no shortage of enemies, so you weren’t exactly sure who you were even invading, but you didn’t care. You knew they had Frank.

You were getting him back. You didn't care how many lives you had to take, you would do it all without second thought.

One of them had his sawed-off shotgun, they tried to shoot you with it. So you knew he was here. You just didn’t know exactly where.

And you’d go through hell and back to get to him.

So with a sharp inhale, you began to walk over to one of your victims, snatching the shotgun from his cold grip. A new sense of rage washed over you when you held the cold metal in your hands— they tried to take Frank from you.

You couldn’t let that stand.

Anger flooded your bloodstream as you began to stalk over to the hallway in front of you, cocking the shotgun along the way. You looked damn insane—you were covered in blood, a knife sticking out your thigh, your machete in one hand and Frank’s shotgun in the other.

One thing was for sure: you were out for fuckin’ blood.

You kicked open the first door you saw with your good leg, and inside were 3 men. Before they could even get a chance to react, you let the first round of bullets fly at one of them, the man dead instantly.

You narrowed your eyes at the two remaining men, putting the machete in your belt, you cocked the shotgun and aimed directly towards them. “Where the fuck is Frank.”

“I–I don’t know what you’re talking about,” One of the men stuttered out.

You scoffed, shooting that same man in the shin. “You think I’m fuckin’ playin’ around? I said, where the fuck is he?! What did you do with Frank?!” You shouted angrily, cocking the gun once more.

The man cried out, falling to his knees as his partner put his hands up in surrender. “He’s in the building..” He murmured, but you could see the man you shot reaching for the gun that the other had so obviously in the back of his pants.

Rolling your eyes, you shot the man who was still unharmed in the head. “Fuckin’ useless. I’ll find him myself.” You muttered to mainly yourself before grabbing your machete once more and stomping over to the last one.

“No, no, no!” He begged, backing away as far as he could from you. “Killing me won’t do anything. You’ll never get through all of us. You and Castle are as good as dead,” He spat and you only gave a sinister smile in return before you dove the machete into his chest.

After he was dead, you took your machete and wiped it clean of the blood before storing it back in your belt. You walked out the room without another thought as you continued your walk down the hallway, Frank’s shotgun tight in your grasp as you pointed it for precaution.

The next room you walked into contained 5 men, and then 3 after you let your itchy trigger finger take over.

3 guns were pointed at you in a instant, and you smirked in delight. "Drop them now!" He nodded towards your weapons. With a smirk still on your face, you let your machete clattered to the ground, but still kept Frank's shotgun in your hand. If you were going to die, you wanted it to happen with at least something that tied to Frank.

Staring them all down, you tried to wait for one of them to make the first strike— but eventually you got bored.

You hit one of the men over the head with the shotgun as you kicked one of the other one’s knee in. Without thinking, you grabbed the knife that was still painfully lodged in your thigh and pulled it out-- causing a sharp roar of pain to leave your lips. And with a menacing stare, you used that very same knife to slash the third man's throat.

In a flash of motions you turned to the next man and shoved the knife into his throat, causing him to stumble back with fearful eyes before dropping dead.

That left the last one that you practically bitch-slapped with the gun. He stared at you with wide, rage filled eyes before he grabbed you by your neck, throwing you into the table next to you. Your now open wound on your thigh got caught on a nail on the way, only tearing it open further. A cry of pure pain left your lips at the act, but you recovered quickly, turning to the man with a evil glare.

You let out a yell as you tackled him to the floor, letting all of your anger out as you brutally laid punch after punch to his face until he was unrecognizable. You let out another broken cry as you left one last hit to his bloodied face.

Ragged breaths left your lips as came back down to reality, shakily standing up. Your knuckles were bruised and cracked, and you knew it would hurt like a bitch later, but as of now, you really didn't care. It would all be worth it in the end. So, without another thought you grabbed your machete and the shotgun and headed out the room.

There was only one room left. It was at the very end of the hallway, and you silently prayed Frank was in there. At this point, after all the people you had just killed and fought— you were fucking tired, and quite frankly; fed the fuck up.

You cocked the gun with nothing in your brain other than bloodlust and kicked open the door harshly. “Where the fuck is he?!” You bellowed as you stormed in, gun raised. You had tunnel vision, seeing nothing over than the targets before you.

8 or 9 men were scattered around the room, and before you knew it bullets were flying everywhere. With wide eyes you dove down for cover behind a fallen table, and on the way down you were grazed by several bullets. Your hand flew up to the blood you felt trickling down your ribs, a low groan leaving your lips. You fought tears of pain as you pulled yourself together, reminding yourself of the goal: Get to Frank.

“Come out, now!” One of them yelled, and it only fueled your anger further.

“Fine.” You growled, standing up and shooting the first two men in front of you. Standing up, you ran to the side of the wall where their bullets couldn’t hit you. You let out a small laugh to yourself— you had to admit, you kind of missed this.

The chaos of it all.

You were raised in the chaos of this— you were brought up in the Red Room, killing people all around the globe. Yelena Belova, one of your fellow past widows, had broken you out some time ago and you tried to give the life up, but it seemed it was in your DNA.

Who were you to fight that?

You shook the thought away just as quickly as it arrived— you had more pressing issues right now.

You pulled the pistol out of your boot, peaking around the corner and picking off 3 men, leaving now 4.

“You fuckin’ crazy bitch!” One of them roared, running at you with a dagger.

“Fuck off!” You screamed back, blocking his attempted strike by grabbing his wrist and twisting his arm, the man now yelling out in pain. He dropped the dagger that was clutched in his hand, while you caught with your free hand, not hesitating to plunge it into his heart.

“Y/N?!” You heard that familiar voice yell, causing you freeze. His call made a soft smile spread across your features, but at the same time ignited that dedication to get to him now.

You grabbed Frank’s shotgun, cocking it and getting your pistol in your other hand. And with a devilish glare, you turned the corner and proceeded to pick off the rest of the men that remained.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you realized they were all dead. Turning on your heel, you ran to room in the back that was connected to the room you had been in, throwing open the door urgently.

“Frank,” You practically whispered. He was bound a chair by chains, his face bruised and bloodied.

“Holy shit.” He murmured, taking in your current state. You didn’t know what you looked like, but you were sure it was nothing short of horrific. You were covered head to toe in a mixture of your own blood and your victim's, wounds and bruises littering your entire body. "Christ, woman, what the fuck happened out there?" He asked with a worried tone.

You aimed your pistol at his chains. “Don’t move.” You spoke gently, yet firm. He nodded, giving you the okay to take the shot. Once you did, he was up and bringing you into his arms almost immediately.

The weapons in your hands clattered to the ground in an instant as you let yourself melt in his arms. You were exhausted. Due to your search for Frank and also just your pure anxiety in being away from him, you had barely slept in the past couple days. That definitely came back to bite you in the ass, and on top of it all, you were in a lot of pain. The kisses Frank was leaving to the side of your head made you feel a lot better, though.

You pulled back just a bit to cup his jaw, your eyes scanning his injuries. “Are you okay?”

He let out a dry chuckle before turning his hand slightly to leave a kiss to your palm. “Baby, you are in no position to be askin’ me that right now.” His hands came up to cradle to your face, and you nestled your face into his palm. "Are you okay?"

You managed to give him a smile. “I'm better now.” You let out a shaky breath. Now that you had found Frank, the pain really began to set in. You wouldn’t let yourself feel all of the pain until you knew you were safe— and you now knew that Frank had you. “They’re all dead.” You told him. "I killed them all."

“Damn,” He licked his lips, staring down at you. “And here I was thinkin’ no one was comin’ for me.”

“You should know by now I’ll always come for you.” You expressed, leaning up to connect your lips. You didn’t care if you were covered in blood, or that Frank had been tied to a chair for 2 days— you missed him.

You loved him. And you would set the world on fire for him.

Once you two pulled apart, he stared into your eyes. “I fuckin’ love you.”

You giggled softly, gazing up at him lovingly. “I love you, Frank.”

Hi are you writing a part 3 for oaths & songbirds? I really loved it! <33

i was thinking about doing another part, but i just don’t know what i’d write about yet ! but i am glad you loved it anon!! let me know what’d you all like to see in the next part ! <333

Blue-green colors flashin' I would be your only dream

i love you — carl gallagher

pairing: carl gallagher x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of abuse, trauma, arguments, fighting, hints towards past domestic abuse, standard shameless warnings.

masterlist

“I can’t give you want you deserve! I—I’m not fuckin’ enough for you! When will you realize that?!” He screamed in her face, the girl backing away.

“Carl…” She whispered, her hand going to cup his cheek, but he backed away, raising his hand in anger to wipe his face.

Her eyes widened as she flinched away in fear, her hands going to shield her face.

It was silent, as she waited for the punch to land, but it never did. Her hand slowly dropped from her face, her eyes opening, just to find Carl’s tear filled eyes staring back at her.

He didn’t say anything as he slowly wrapped his arms around her, bringing her into his chest.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, the girl burying her face into his neck, the tears now falling as she sobbed.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.” He whispered. “I’m sorry for yelling. I’m sorry for scaring you.”

She only clutched the boy tighter as their previous argument was forgotten, and the only thing that mattered in that moment was eachother.

He kissed her head, rubbing her back as they stood in the kitchen, the street light shining into the room.

She pulled back, her hands going to his face as she looked at him. “I love you.”

His eyes softened, his head dipping down and capturing her lips with his own.

It wasn’t like their normal kisses.

This was filled with all of their emotions. The sadness, the anger, the love. Everything.

When they pulled apart, a small smile crossed Carl’s face.

“I love you, too.”

at least melissa has more self-awareness about her situation than whatever is going on with shauna most days