Kastle Christmas 2019: watching over someone from afar
Happy holidays Megan @goddamnitkastle, itās me, your Kastle Secret Santa!
The prompt was a fic based on any song in your Kastle playlist, and OF COURSE Taylor Swiftās The Archer came out and smacked me right in the face, especially the lines, āI donāt want thatā (duh), and āHelp me hold onto you.ā
Iād been noodling on how to use The Archer for a fic for a while, and here we go! Hope you enjoy the slow burn, angst, found families and holidays, along with a very large dash of the women of The Punisher ACTUALLY BEING FRIENDS LIKE THEY SHOULD BE.
Title for this fic does not come from The Archer, but instead comes from the quote, āWatching over someone from afar is a kind of love too.ā Which was said by Sailor Pluto in the original Sailor Moon Manga. A little backstory, I was scrolling through my Tumblr when I should have been working on a program I was launching, and stumbled upon the quote while I was thinking about this fic. I realized it was perfect for not just Frank with Karen, but also David with Sarah and the kids, and David tracking Frank while he was being an idiot throughout TPS2 and not actually calling in all the resources he has for help.
But thatās a topic for another time that I am absolutely not bitter about :-D
I also had no idea how this ended up being a 24,000-word behemoth, when I thought this would be at 15k at MOST, but here you go!
Enjoy!
watching over someone from afar (complete)
24,047 words
The moment Karen Page steps foot outside Metro General, she decides to leave everything about her relationship with Frank Castle behind her in that godforsaken building.
So much of her relationship with Frank has been tied to the hospitalāthe incident with Grotto, the beginnings of Nelson & Murdockās work on his case, and now this, I donāt want thatāso thatās where itās going to stay.
Sheās never going back to her first New York apartmentānor did she ever get around to patching the bulletholes in the last one before she moved out. Sheās also never setting foot in the diner where Frank used her as bait, heās sure as shit not likely to drop by her current apartment for a visit, and itās getting too cold to go back to the waterfront.
All in all, it means itās really not all that difficult to leave everything about her history with Frank behind her in Metro General.
Losing herself in the crowd of doctors, nurses, patients and administrators evacuating the hospital courtesy of her diversionāthe least she can do, reallyāKaren squares her shoulders and turns her back to the building, heads in the direction of the offices of Nelson, Murdock & Page.
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.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Qualityā Free Actions
Free to watch ā¢ No registration required ā¢ HD streaming
Tagged by: @goddamnitkastleĀ (Thanks!!! This quarantine time is really something so the distraction of this is very welcome~)
1. Do you ever make your bed?
Oh yeah, itās basically the daily routine. Even with me spending a lot of my time sitting on top of my bed, now. I still have to make it before I do so.Ā
2. Whatās your favorite number?
3. I donāt really know why; I guess in my head 3 is a veryĀ ācompleteā number?
3. Whatās your job?
Welllllll the thing that WAS getting me money was Front of House Management, but, you know. Whatās there to house manage, these days~?
4. If you could go back to school, would you?
Probably not to be honest. Not unless I could get like a free ride to a performing arts school, and even then Iām really not sure.
5. Can you parallel park?
Barely. I avoid it at all costs. XD
6. A job you had that would surprise people
I guess that answer varies dependent upon how a person met me, some people get surprised at my Front of House work and some people get surprised that I had a barista stint and some people get surprised that I spent a summer helping a woman prepare one of her properties for a family who were slated to move into it, whilst living in that property.
7. Do you believe aliens are real?
Absolutely, believing otherwise is the peak of human arrogance. I just donāt have many presumptions that we know what extraterrestrial life even looks like, or that theyād even be interested in the likes of us.
8. Can you drive a manual car?
No, Iāve never had the need or opportunity to learn.Ā
9. Whatās your guilty pleasure?
Pffffffffffff I donāt know; itās honestly pretty hard to pin something on me as a GUILTY pleasure. Like if someone were to come up to me today and be like,Ā āI know you were a MASSIVE Backstreet Boys fan in their heyday and you even wrote fic with a highschool friend of yours!ā Iād just bold-faced be like,Ā āAnd what of it?ā (This is true by the way. XD) So, I donāt know.
Can my guilty pleasure be cheesy poofs? I know that artificial cheese powder is bad, but I love it anyway. XD
Can mint chocochip ice cream be my guilty pleasure??? I donāt knooooow.
10. Tattoos?
No, not yet? I have a lot of grand sweeping ideas for getting inked but a lot of it is dependent on ensuring Iām being regionally and symbolically accurate in design, and the delicate balance of trying to marry two different cultures together. (vaguevaguevague Basically I want to marry precolonial Visayan marks with designs that speak toward French rococo design, which is. A very ambitious wish. Iām also attempting to fit a triskele on my body somewhere as a nod toward Gaul. /vaguevaguevague)
11. Favorite color?
Black, white, gold, and warm colors.
12. Things that people do that piss you off?
BOYYYYY. Self-righteousness to a fault is a big one. Being too proud to listen is another. Caring more about money than a personās well-being is also one, and violating a personās trust and sense of safety. /vague.Ā
13. Any phobias?
The loss of my voice. Literal and metaphorical.
14. Favorite childhood sport?
Volleyball.
15. Do you ever talk to yourself?
Absolutely, it helps me process.
16. What movie do you adore?
I mean, thereās a lot depending on my mood, so. Beauty and the Beast (both the OG Disney and the live action remake). Moana. Hunchback. Lilo and Stitch. Pocahontas (yeah I know I know, but listen Kocoum could get it; if it were me I would have happily married him and thrown myself full force into some mission to make his serious face crack into a smile, IT WAS A THING). Andersen-douwa Ningyo Hime. A Nightmare on Elm Street (and also ANOES 3: Dream Warriors). The Blue Lagoon (I hugely blame Mama for this one - can THIS be a guilty pleasure? XD). What Dreams May Come. Wonder Woman. The AOS Star Trek movies. Moulin Rouge. Moon Child... The Last Samurai (because it introduced me to Sanada-san). Ringu (yes I saw this after TLS). Alita: Battle Angel. Audition. The Underworld films... Iām sure more could come to me but Iāll stop here.
Oh! The Crow. Stigmata. The Queen of the Damned (Can THIS be a guilty pleasure thing I know itās such a WILD departure from the books but like, I canāt help it, Aaliyah is a Goddess and the aesthetics are everything early 2000ā²s babygoth me lived on~) Okay now Iāll stop.
17. Do you like doing puzzles?
I guess it depends on the puzzle, but I feel like that answer loosely translates toĀ āno.ā XD
18. Whatās your favorite kind of music?
Iām honestly all across the board but I lean toward the following usually: hard rock, some metal, and grand-scale instrumentals. There are some notable deviations toward pop and r&b, but. Those first three are home, I suppose?
19. Tea or coffee?
Itās always coffee in the morning, but itās always tea all the rest of the time. Like. I homebrew iced green tea with honey and thatās usually what Iām living on for the rest of my day, after my morning coffee.
20. First thing you remember wanting to be when you grow up?
I basically wanted to be Jem. XD
Tagging: @halorecoil @yacky-jackie @candybunnieholic @lemonedscream @malevolentqueenofspiders @alias-b @anagraves @godofrapture and I donāt know, YOU if you wanna; Iām not your keeper~
Happy holidays @goddamnitkastle š«I hope you like this bit of fluff Iām sending your wayš¤ Done for the christmas exchange at @kastlenetwork , thank you mods!ā¤ļø
2018 kastle fic/art exchange | the loop of these memories by: @goddamnitkastle
āThere was some uh, government building in Fagan Corners. He never really talked about what he did. But it was very 9 to 5 and the benefits were good. He was stern. Old school. Always threatened with wooden spoons and spankings when we misbehaved. Wasnāt one to approve of his son wearing eyelinerā¦ā
āGot it.ā
They sit in silence for a while, he eats and she looks out the window. The headlights of cars flash past, lighting up their booth. Her memories appear with them. The day their last family portrait was taken. The day Kevin failed his driverās test. Her mother sitting at the kitchen table, her eyes vacant as her father yelled at her.
āKevin never passed his driving test.ā
Frank is wiping his hands with a napkin, his platter demolished.
āHeād taken it twice. His anxiety would overwhelm him. He wanted to pass so badly. He wanted to get out of Fagan.ā
Frank looks at her quizzically. She knows what heās going to ask. He (or Micro) mustāve found the police report.
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.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Qualityā Free Actions
Free to watch ā¢ No registration required ā¢ HD streaming
For Ā @goddamnitkastle, for the Hozier Sentence Meme. I hope you like it, sweetheart!
"So tired trying to see from behind the red in my eyes, no better version of me I could pretend to be tonight."Ā
Muah ;-*
It wasnāt as if he had planned this.
He planned a lot. Calculated everything, and when he couldnāt, the bullets made the math for him. It worked. He got turned inside out, over and over, spat teeth and blood and saw through bloody eyes, limped his way down the path of death he swore to walk since the day he stepped back inside his family home and there was no family left, but it worked.
He got his vengeance. He put the ones that killed his babies and his love on the ground. Every last one of them. His plan worked. And when that plan was done, he worked on another. Got addicted to cleaning the filth, it became his mission and his obsession, his duty. It was expected of him. Hero and villain, all wrapped up in a not so neat package.
But he did not plan this. He did not plan for her. For the hurricane of blond hair, blue eyes, long legs, mighty aim and steady grip on her .380. How could he?
And he saw the danger of her. It did not start like that, but he saw it. First, it was the memories, and he smiled because he was remembering his family, she was smiling because she was picturing them and remembering her own childhood.
But then she went to visit him in prison. She had a way to get under his skin and he tried to be mad at her, brush her off, but she said it was important to her and there he was, taking a fucking stand on his own fucking trial - none of which were planned, he was supposed to be dead by now - because it was important to her.
He walked away, after he got her from Schoonover. He saved her, but then he walked away. For a year, he stayed far, but she was vocal, loud, with her printed words and then there he was again, sitting by her on a bench and she was feeding him information and he was listening and looking at her, asking about Murdock, trying to act casual when she brushed it aside and took a big sip from his coffee, not looking at him.
He did not plan on looking at her like that. He did not plan on caring. He did not plan on kissing her while he had blood on his hands, literal blood, that stained her dress and her bathroom tiles.
It got on her cheek as he gripped her jaw and on her hair when he tangled his fingers through it. She held him back without a hint of hesitation, her own fingers smelling of gunpowder.
He did not want that for her. But she hushed and kissed him into oblivion, and when one of her shoulders became bare, he placed his mouth over it, warm skin against his lips while his teeth dragged the strap of her bra out of his way.
Months and months later, God knows how many, Frank doesnāt count anymore, and she kept frustrating his plans. It should have been over a long time ago, she should have found something normal by now. But she always rolled her eyes, dismissed it and sat down to talk business before pulling him in bed with her, kissing him goodnight or licking his skin awake.
And this, sitting in her bathtub, his back resting against her chest, long legs around his hips, his skin and hers slick with scented bath oils, his head resting on her right shoulder as she traced her finger around a fresh set of stitches she had sewn into his skin not ten minutes ago, that was never in the plans.
She was supposed to be married to some nice, boring man, living in the suburbs, safe, sound and decorating a nursery for her first child, and he was supposed to be dead. Every day, Frank was supposed to die and she was supposed to cry for a week and then move on. Every day he didnāt. He survived and went back to her so he could also live, and he would wake up the next morning and plan it all over again, and she would wreck it.
āSoā, she started, soft, running her fingers up his biceps, tracing bruises and cuts delicately, rubbing her essential oils on his skin. āIām going to the Hamptons this Friday.ā
āThat this week?ā he asked, his voice so lazy, he was a fucking lazy cat around her, adjusting his head on her shoulder, closing his eyes when she started running her right hand through his hair.
āYesā, she replied, and her mouth was right there in his ear and she was nipping, whispering, tightening her legs around his waist, running her feet up his thighs underwater. āI want you to come with me.ā
He chuckled.
āI donāt think your friend wants the Punisher house-sitting for her.ā
āShe doesnāt care.ā
The hand that traced around his stitches lowered to his chest, soothing, caressing, doing something he didnāt know, but he knew, he never wanted her to stop, even if he knew she needed to.
āPlus. Thereās two dogs.ā
āWhy you think you can bribe me with dogs, maāam?ā
It was not the first time she had tried.
āBecause I know you like dogs. You can take Max, too, Trish said it was ok.ā
He sighed, too tired and too relaxed to actually try and explain to her why it was a bad idea.
Plus, he was considering.
As much as he liked her apartment - and he liked it, that small, thin walled sanctuary of theirs - a house in a beach somewhere with limited neighbors did sound so good. No wake up calls, no time to get up in the morning, no articles to write and no low life to shoot for a whole week. And it was an actual safe house, security freak that was Trish Walker. Shit, it sounds so good.
āCome on, babyā, she whispered in his ear again, and that was so low, so low, because no one else was ever supposed to call him ābabyā again, but she did, and he liked it, he tried not to and she even asked him once if it was ok, Frank found himself nodding, smiling, leaning in to kiss her. āSheās lending me her beach house, she says I need to relax, and she knows about you.ā
āBecause you told her.ā
āCome on. Sheās a journalist, and my friend, she saw that little gift you left on the back of my neck that timeā - he smiled in spite of himself - āand she gets it. You know Trish, you know sheās good. She has Jessica, she understands.ā
āWeather I trust her or not is not the question here, maāam.ā
āThen just come away with me, please. I donāt want to go alone, thereās no point in that.ā
And then she started moving, hands and feet and body sneaking from under him until she was straddling him inside the tub, water moving, splattering to the floor, her skin was glowing with scented oils, she was so naked on top of him, Frank moved to support his arms on the edges of the tub, looking up at her, enjoying the view and the case she was trying to make.
Why does she want him? Why does she care? Heās the last thing she needs, the last person she should be getting attached to, why does she pull him to her by his slippery shoulders and cradles his face in her hands, runs her fingers through his hair as if heās precious, as precious as she is, like she loved the feel of him against her?
āPlease?ā she tries, just a word, before a kiss, before arms around his neck, before her hips are working on his, before his body is going against the plan again, responding to her, his mouth is opening, heās tasting her tongue and heās gripping the wet porcelain to keep from making it obvious she already won.
Sheās a damn mystery, Karen Page. Why she forgives him, over and over, and helps him wash all the blood away, heāll never know. She deserves so much better, and yet here she is, asking him to go away with her, if only just for a week, because she knows he needs to come back and resume his work, resume his mission, resume whatever it is that he does, and she needs to come back, too, to the filth and the horror, to this city that keeps trying to swallow her up, and she still tries to save, exposing and shedding light, one article at a time, working with or without him, trying to clean up the mud he swims in every day and every night.
Three days later, heās carrying her suitcase down the stairs to the car, sheās walking ahead of him, holding onto Maxās leash, and he sees the gun inside her purse, itās barrel glimmering as they walk under a light.
Maybe thatās why he canāt stick to his plans. She knows him whole, doesnāt expect him to change, adapts to the situation, keeps her gun loaded, her first aid kit stocked and her burner phone charged, just in case all that planning gets blown up.
Driving up to Trishās beach house, he opens the door for her and she pulls him inside by his hand, and he spends a week covering her in lazy kisses and having lazy sex and being lazy while Max runs on the sand until heās too tired to run anymore.
Karen sleeps naked against him every night theyāre there, no clothes between them, no skulls on his chest, just his skin against hers, him, open and honest, just a man, getting warm against the flame that burned inside her and shone the path ahead of him. Ahead of them, as short as it is.
Tagged by: @goddamnitkastle (Thanks, and sorry I responded so late~)
The Mission: Go to this site and make an icon based on yourself.
The glasses are the wrong frame color though this is inspiring me to invest in red frames. Also, the hair color is off seeing as blood red wasnāt an option.
I sadly donāt have these things in my wardrobe but it aligns okay with general cool-weather wear (strappy tops, biggo sweater situations, chokers, dangly earrings). I would like to invest in dramatic starry crowns.
The background is because I am the sun.
Tagging: @halorecoil @yacky-jackie @anagraves @claudia86c @benevolentqueenofstars @lemonedscream @myguiltyghost and anyone else who wants to~
