#Does it say smth about me that i prefer him while he's covered in blood??? Probably | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dracowars · 3 years

Note

was gud :) i LOVED your last request, and i can’t believe it was your 1 one - you’re definitely talented!! but i was wondering if you could write smth where y/n has a bruise on her face, bc harry and her had a big fight over draco.. she then tells him (cause he her bf), and draco goes completely crazy, and fights w/ harry in the bathrooms (yk movie typa style) - y/n then thinks that it’s all her fault, after he’s completely bruised and hurt -maybe like a cute fluffy ending? i love what you do xx

guardian | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x gryffindor!reader

word count: 5,0k

summary: where y/n stands up for draco

a/n: thank you for requesting! this got longer than i intended lmao and i changed the plot of the movie a little to fit this one shot! hope you enjoy it <3

warnings: angst, mentions of blood, swearing, also harry is pretty nasty here

universe: harry potter

It is a cold, snowy and wintry day at Hogwarts, snowflakes slowly floating out of the greyish clouds above the already in a thick layer of snow covered castle. Christmas is just around the corner and everyone is looking forward to the Christmas holidays and to being able to calm down from the stressful exam periods for a few weeks with their loved ones. You can't wait any longer either, because this year will be something very special.

This year you invited your boyfriend Draco to spend the festive holiday season with you and your family so that you can finally introduce him to them - not that they don't know already who Draco Lucius Malfoy is. Even if you are a Gryffindor and your family has very different views and values than Draco's, they are still accepting him and ready to welcome him with open, warm arms. Unlike your best friends Harry, Ron and Hermione.

Given that you were sent to Gryffindor in your first year at Hogwarts, it was only a matter of time before you befriend the three of them. In fact, you first were friends with the Harry Potter himself before he introduced you to Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley and he is still one of your best friends until this point in time. However, when you got together with Draco Malfoy, the archenemy of the Golden Trio, they could no longer understand the world. How could someone like you be with someone like him?

Actually, you can't really explain it yourself, but at some point in your fourth year - probably when he asked you to go to the Yule Ball with him - one thing led to another and you found yourself madly in love with the platinum haired boy. Of course you can understand your best friends' view on your boyfriend, they have every reason to not like him, but it still does not give them the right to complain about your relationship over and over again. Instead of helping you with affairs of your and Draco's relationship, they often prefer to ignore you or give the popular answer: 'break up with him then'.

But because they are your closest friends, you (have to) tolerate their behavior, even if it has already caused you numerous sleepless nights. And Draco knows that. He knows how much the friendship with them can hurt you at times, and although he is not really fond of them either, he never once advised you to end your friendship. He is always trying to help you because deep inside he blames himself for making you feel so excluded from them. Because he is your boyfriend.

Several times he has already wondered whether he should break up with you just for the sake of you getting included into their friendship again. But he remained a little selfish and also was not strong enough to do it. He loves you too much.

Today, Harry and Ron made nasty remarks about Draco again right next to you in Potions, without taking into consideration that you were there. Only Hermione didn't get into their conversation and talked to you about the lesson. You don't know if she did it on purpose to distract you, but it luckily worked anyway.

Even so, you are smart enough to know that they talked about it until the end of the class. They talk about him all the time, it seems to have been their number one topic of conversation since the incident.

The incident when you went to the Three Broomsticks together several weeks ago to drink butterbeer and just enjoy yourselves, when you had to watch the poor girl Katie Bell, a Gryffindor from your year, pass out in front of you on the way back to Hogwarts. You helped her immediately and she was taken to the St. Mungo hospital. McGonagall later told you that it was a cursed necklace that was responsible for the accident.

And then it all started.

Harry and Ron were quick to blame Draco for the incident with Katie Bell, even though they had no sufficent proof at all. They were convinced that Draco must have had something to do with it, just because he is Draco Malfoy. And in fact, Draco actually acted strange lately, even towards you, but you would never assume that he would do something so cruel. Their accusions have grown so outrageous that you even had to distance yourself from your once best friends.

Still, you never told Draco about it. You know he would blew up in anger if he knew and since he is acting differently at the moment anyway, you don't want to make him feel even worse. That is why you kept it to yourself until now, to protect him.

After a while, you got closer with, mainly, Hermione again, but the constant reminders of what happened did not stop. Nevertheless you try your best to endure it and that is exactly why you are currently sitting at the Gryffindor table in the festively decorated Great Hall, listening to Harry and Ron's conversation, that, for once, is not about your boyfriend or what he might have done.

At least not until Katie Bell, happy and healthy, suddenly enters the Great Hall again after her absence.

"Harry, over there! Katie Bell is back", Ron whispers and Harry turns around to look for her. Immediately, you lower your fork, that still has food attached to it, and swallow down the lump in your throat, waiting for them to make their next move. To say you have a very bad feeling about this situation is an understatement. "Guys. Let her be, she just arrived-"

"I will go up to her and ask what happened. She will surely confirm that Malfoy gave her the cursed necklace", Harry explains, rudly ignoring your comment while already standing up. Before he leaves, Harry gives you a look that says something in the lines of 'i'll prove to you who you got involved with'.

With tension and anger slowly building up inside of you, because he just won't let it go, you can only watch Harry go away and confront Katie. From her gestures you absoultely can't tell what she is telling your 'best friend', you can only hope that she tells the truth and that it wasn't Draco.

Speaking of which, right in this moment Draco enters the Great Hall and unintentionally walks straight towards Harry, who has just finished his conversation with the victim and doesn't even come back to your table but directly walks in Draco's direction. Draco, realizing that something is wrong, turns around and leaves the hall as quickly as he entered it.

With a jolt you get up from the table, accidentally throwing down your fork to the ground, and run out of the Great Hall, following them. You don't know what Katie told Harry, but it can't be something good considering the look that you saw on Harry's face.

"Harry!", you loudly yell at him when you finally catch up to him in a long, empty hallway with no sign of Draco anywhere. You stop Harry from going further by grabbing his shoulder and pulling him back. "Stop chasing him, please. Draco has nothing to do with this", you try to convince him, even though you don't even know what Katie told him, and thoughts, thoughts that should not be there and not even exist, creep into your mind slowly but surely. Thoughts that Draco might actually have something to do with it after all.

"Why are you still protecting him, Y/N?! He cursed Katie Bell, maybe even wanted to kill her and you still don't want me to follow him just because you are so blind of love that you don't even notice the monster that he is?", Harry angrily spats out, pointing his wand at you, which he had already drawn out of his pocket while he was running before. Feeling uncomfortable with a wand so close to your face, you furiously slap it away with your hand.

"Don't you dare to ever talk about him like that again", you threaten Harry, grinding your teeth and clenching your fist in an attempt to not do something any second that you would probably regret. "He is and always will be a ruthless Malfoy, Y/N. So stop playing dumb. We both know that he did it", Harry responds, accompanied by a disappointed shake of his head.

"Do you have any evidence?", you ask, expectantly cocking your eyebrow at him. You don't really want to know if he does because if he really does, it will surely break your heart into pieces. "What evidence does it still need for you to finally understand?", Harry huffs out annoyed. "There is no point in discussing with you anyway. I just want to talk to your boyfriend, so if you would excuse me now."

Without waiting for your answer, he continues to run through the corridor quickly, but the anger in your veins has now become so great that you follow him instantly and, this time more roughly, grab him by the wrist, bringing him to a halt. When he removes his hand from your grip angrily, he accidentally hits you directly in the face, which is why you stumble back a few steps.

Shocked, you cover your face with your hands, trying to hold back the tears in your eyes that form from the stinging pain. Not only do you seem shocked, but Harry himself too. Slowly you remove your trembling hands, only to discover a thick red substance on it. Your stomach makes a flip at the sight. Harry hit you with so much force that your nose is bleeding.

"Y-Y/N. I didn't mean to-", he stumbles over his words, trying to make up for what he did only seconds ago. But maybe this was the one action that you needed to realize what kind of a 'best friend' you have.

Or had.

"You didn't mean to?!", you scoff, trying your best to stop the blood from flooding out of your nostrils. "So this was not what you wanted to do for a long time, huh? Did you not even realize how much you and your antics hurt me already? You always think you know everything better and act like the hero everyone has been waiting for when you should really think about whether you are the actual monster here, Potter."

And with these hurtful words you turn around on your heel and go look out for Draco by yourself, not caring what Harry has to say. Most of all, you wish to never have to exchange a word with him in your life ever again.

Still angry, you stomp through the lonely corridors on your own, hoping to find your boyfriend soon, especially before Harry does. On your way you notice that the blood is already dripping to the ground and thus you are trailing a trail of blood drops behind you. You are just about to wipe the blood off with the back of your hand when you suddenly hear crying echoing through the empty hallway. Without hesitation, you run in the direction of the suppressed sobs that are getting louder and louder the closer you get until you eventually stop in front of the boys bathroom.

You wipe your face with your hand once and crack open the door a tiny bit to be able to get a glimpse inside the room. The bathroom is quite dark and cold and your gaze directly falls onto a figure leaning against one of the sinks, sobbing bitterly. His entire body is shaking from crying, your heart breaking at the sight, and you can see the knuckles on his fragile hands turn white as his grip tightens on the edge of the sink.

"Draco?", you whisper as quietly as possible to not scare him, your voice only inches away from breaking at the sight you are seeing in front of you. He always portrays himself as strong and proud when in reality he is breaking inside. His head snaps up instantly, looking at you standing behind him through the dirty mirror, defintely not expecting you here.

Draco turns around to face you, his shoulders hanging low as he so badly trys to stifle his sobs, not wanting to show him his weak side. Only now you notice the deep dark circles under his beautiful eyes - which have also lost their shimmer - and how emaciated his face is, how thin his entire body has become. Trying not to cry yourself because of the horrible sight, you slowly walk towards him, picking up his sweater he threw on the floor. As soon as you stand in front of him, you carefully take one of his trembling hands in yours, neither of you saying a word.

Your hand gently strokes up his arm until you reach his shoulder and you then place your hand on his neck. You look deep into his eyes, which suddenly seem so helpless and anxious. "I haven't seen you in days.. You look terrible, Draco", you softly pout at him, brushing a tear from his cheek.

"It wasn't me, Y/N. No matter what they say, it really was not me", Draco whimpers silently, taking your hand that previously was on his neck in his, pressing it against his chest, right at the place where his fast pounding heart beats against his skin. His sad eyes, filled with so much pain, seek eye contact with you, his face taking a desperate posture, scared about what will happen. Scared that you will not believe him. "I have been doing a lot of very very bad things lately, but I really did not do anything to that girl. You have to believe me, Y/N! I would never-"

"I believe you, Draco", you interupt him with a reassuring smile, glad that he opend up to you even if it was just a tiny bit, and move a little closer to him, gaze focused on your intertwined hands. "I will always believe you, baby. It hurts me to see you like this."

"You were not supposed to ever see me like this", Draco confesses, lowering his head in defeat. You gently place your hand on his jawline and and lead his face to look at you. "Don't say something like that. We all are allowed to sometimes let down our guard, even a Draco Malfoy is allowed to do so. You can't always be strong. And even if you are hiding something from me, I know that you have a plausible reason for it. Because I trust you, Draco. With my life", you explain, smoothly placing a kiss on his tear stained cheek.

Despite your statement that was supposed to soothe his tense posture, worry, that you can easily identify, creeps into his pale face. Contrary to what you expect - that he is still worried about you not believing him -however, this concern applies to you. "You're bleeding, Y/N!", Draco realizes, frightened, and his cold hands cup your face immediately, examining your face in the most precise way.

Since you have totally forgotten about both your nosebleed and the half-dried blood on your hands, your breath hitches as his thumb lightly brushes your nose. Draco's previously white long-sleeved shirt has blood stains all over it now, as does his sweater that you are still holding in one of your hands. "What happened?", Draco asks with concern in his broken voice as you wipe away the blood with the back of your hand one more time.

While you are looking for a suitable answer and the right words, Draco gets you a towel to prevent the blood from running down your chin. Carefully, he dabs it over the lower part of your face while you convulsively grimace. "When.. when you ran out of the Great Hall after seeing Harry and Katie Bell talk, Harry followed you straight away, but I couldn't let him hurt you or do anything to you, so I went after him. I wanted to stop him and, well, he hit me right in the face with his hand", you describe what happend and Draco's expression that was still worried a few seconds ago suddenly turns into one of pure anger.

"He did what?", he spits out, clenching his fists. "Draco, please. I don't think he did it on purpose, but it finally showed me what kind of friends I have. Don't worry, it is not as bad as it looks like", you give him a loving smile, but even that does not seem to calm him down at all. "Not as bad as it looks?! He hit you bloody, Y/N! He is pathetic if he thinks that he will get away with it that easily. No, not with me. I'm going to find this bastard now and teach him a lesson, once and for all", Draco rages, his jaw clenched as he passes you and goes to the door.

You quickly grab his arm and prevent him from leaving when suddenly said person steps through the door to the bathroom. Draco's muscles tense under your grip. "You!", he yells at Harry immediately, jumping towards him but being held back by you. "You hexed her, didn't you? Why did you curse Katie Bell, Malfoy? What the hell are you up to again?", Harry confronts him, his brows furrowed.

"What did you do to my girlfriend, Potter?! Who do you think you are?", Draco immediately counters and tightly grabs Harry by the collar with his free hand. "I swear to Merlin, I will kill you."

Everything happens so quickly that you don't even realize it at first. Harry throws himself on Draco, who has broken out of your grip, hitting im with his fist directly in the face several times before Draco gains the upper hand and manages to kick Harry off of him, who slams on the floor with a cry. "Stop it you two! Do you want to kill yourselves?!", you step in, but Draco quickly gets up and pushes you to the side.

"Get out of here, Y/N. Now!", he orders, but you don't even think of leaving the two of them alone here. When Harry has straightend up again as well, they both have their wand in their hand, ready to fight. "Now it is time to show what the Chosen One is capable of", Draco provokes and shortly afterwards a red spell is already shooting in his direction. Draco skilfully evades the Expelliarmus spell and uses his own on Harry, also missing his target by a few inches.

"You have no chance against me, Malfoy", Harry mentions before attacking again, this time using Expulso. Draco dodges the spell which then hits the mirrors right between you and him, shattering them into a thousand pieces, the explosion throwing you to the ground. The floor of the room fills with water because the sinks were also damaged and Draco hastily pulls you out of the puddle. "Stay behind me", he quietly tells you, shooting at Harry who takes cover behind the toilet cabin.

For a moment, you do not hear any sound from his direction anymore. Draco's and your quick breath and the running water echo around the cold room. You cling more onto his arm, seeking protection, as you hear Harry's steps in the water. Draco immediately pulls you behind him, finding cover. Carefully, he looks around the corner, only to see Harry at the other end.

In the meantime you have also taken out your wand and listen closely to be able to locate Harry's exact position. Draco kneels down on the wet floor and looks under the cubicles, discovers Harry's feet on the other side and shoots Expulso at him. One of the toilets and cabins breaks under the impact of the spell and more water comes flooding onto the ground.

Draco and you quietly take a step forward to face Harry, but as soon as you do, a curse that you have never heard before flies into your direction. Draco stands in front of you to protect you and gets hit by the spell, stumbling back a few steps before falling to the floor with a splash. A loud scream escapes your throat and you manage to disarm Harry with Expelliarmus.

Whimpering, Draco lies on the floor covered in blood, the water around him turning a dark red color. With a cry you fall on your knees and crawl over to his trembling figure, carefully placing his head on your lap and holding his face in your hands. His body twitches at the pain emanating from the wounds that appear as if they have been slashed with a sword, and his lips quiver, emitting suffering noises.

"No, no, no, no! Look at me, baby. It will be alright, okay? We will fix it", you sob, caressing his cheek with your thumb as tears stream down your face. A shadow covers you as Harry slowly walks towards you. "What did you do? What kind of curse was that, Harry?! Undo it. Now!", you yell at him, your crying only getting worse. Shock and regret are written on his face, his gaze switching to Draco, who is suffering terribly. "Sectumsempra", Harry says in not more than a whisper. He himself does not know what he has done and shakes his head in disbelief, suddenly turning away from you and then he just runs out of the flodded bathroom.

"Come back, you coward! You can't just leave me here!", you shout after him, without succes. He is already gone.

While still holding Draco in your arms, you quickly look around for your wand, which lays in the water a few meters away from you. You carefully stretch in its direction and get hold of it. "Episkey", you whisper repeatedly, trying to stop Draco's bleeding, but to no avail. "HELP! Please, I need help. Someone has to help me", you yell as loud as you can, hopefully drawing someone's attention to you. Draco's breathing becomes faster and more irregular by every second that passes, his body trembling under your touch.

"Hold on, Draco. I will fix this, just stay with me, okay?", you assure him, but slowly lose hope yourself since all of the healing spells you have ever learned are unsuccessful. "I am so sorry..", you cry out, your forehead gently touching his. Now, all you can hear are your sobs and Draco's painful whimpers.

And footsteps.

"What happened here?", Professor Snape suddenly appears in the room, his eyes growing wide at the sight of the young and badly hurt Malfoy in your arms. "P-Potter.. He-", you try to explain but Snape shoves you to the side ungently, taking a closer look at Draco's injuries. He takes out his wand right away and runs the tip over Draco's wounded torso.

"Vulnera Salentur", Snape speaks to himself and you watch the puddle of blood that had formed around Draco's almost lifeless body disappear, as do the blood stains on his white shirt. Except those made of your blood.

His breathing regulates itself again and not waiting one more second, Professor Snape picks him up and directly heads to the door. You quickly follow him without saying a word, just sobbing to yourself all the way to the hospital wing. However, before you can go inside, you are stopped by Madam Pomfrey and can only watch Snape laying down Draco on one of the hospital beds before the door closes in front of you.

Heavily crying you lean against the wall with your back next to the door and let yourself sink to the floor, your knees drawn to your body and your forehead on top of them. Your small figure permeated by your bitter sobs, you don't even notice when the door opens after a few minutes and Snape stands in front of you. "Ms. Y/L/N", he clears his throat, your head shooting up in shock while tears run down your cheeks like waterfalls.

"Will he be okay?", you poud, wiping some of your tears away while standing up. "We assume. He needs a lot of rest", he explains and you nod in approval, sinking down your head. "I won't even bother to ask what happened. But you may want to get treated as well", he adds, pointing to the dried blood that is smeared over your face and hands. "Thank you, Professor, but I would rather stay here and wait", you answer in a sad voice.

"Then why out here?", Snape asks reproachfully, cocking an eyebrow. Confusion written all over your face you stare at him, not understand at all what he is pointing at, and he just crosses his arms with a sigh. "I told Madam Pomfrey about you and your relationship to Mr. Malfoy. She allows you to stay with him as long as you stay quiet", he explains. "O-Of course! I will not make any noise", you assure him and with a nod he leads you into the hospital wing.

Draco is lying on a white hospital bed with closed eyes, the blanket pulled up to his chin, only his head peeking out from underneath. Madam Pomfrey eyes you suspiciously, but still points to a chair next to the bed which you are supposed to sit on. You sit close to the bed and look at Draco with sad eyes, your tears still finding their way over your already damped cheeks. There are bluish purple spots on his face, the result of Harry's punches, and his lip has been treated where it was split open.

"He should regain consciousness soon. I have never treated a student who was under the Sectumsempra curse before. Let us hope for the best", says Madam Pomfrey as she clears some medical bottles from a small table next to you. "You are lucky that Professor Snape was there."

"Thank you, Professor. For everything", you sniff and give him the best warm smile you can manage right now. Snape seems quite surprised at your words, but then nods before leaving the room. Madam Pomfrey also leaves you and Draco alone for now.

The longer you look at Draco and his current condition, the worse the guilt builds up inside of you. You gently touch his forehead with your tembling hand and brush a platinum blonde strand from his face. "It's all my fault", you cry and search for his hand under the covers, which you then carefully take into yours. "I'm so sorry, Draco."

Dejected and overwhelmed by guilt, you drop your head and cry relentlessly, your sobs giving the empty room a sorrowful atmosphere. Suddenly, you feel pressure on your hand and look up. Draco's eyelids twitching lightly before his eyes slowly flutter open, his gaze meeting yours. "Hey, darling. What's wrong?", he asks in a hoarse voice, worry spreading over his features.

"You are awake!", you say, even more tears running down your cheeks. "I was so scared, Draco", you sob and he puts his hand on your cheek with a soft smile on his lips. "Look, I'm fine now, Y/N. You don't need to worry anymore", he tries to cheer you up even though you both perfectly know that he is not fine yet.

"If it hadn't been for me, none of this would have happened. And then I couldn't even help you and there was blood everywhere, your blood, and-", you ramble but his index finger on your trembling lips stops you from doing so. "There is no way that it is your fault, sweetheart. If anyone is to blame, it is Potter", he denies your statement. "B-But you could have die-"

"Stop it, Y/N! If anything, you saved my life. And I would do the same for you. I would go through this pain over and over again if it means that I can protect you", he states and you fall into his arms, his eyes now full of tears as well because in his eyes it looks like you have suffered a lot more than him. All the blood that is still covering your soaked clothes, your hands and your face, shows him that you are in a just as bad of a condition as he is.

"Don't cry because of me. I'm not worth your precious tears, sweetheart", he claims while giving you a tired smile. "I should have never trusted Harry. I didn't know that you could be so wrong about a person", you apologize again. "I can't believe I was so stupid!"

Draco, sensing your building up feelings of guilt, tries to sit up a bit but abruptly stops in his movement, hissing in pain. Alarmed, you get up and gently push him back into the mattress. "Does it still hurt? Should I let Madam Pomfrey know?", you ask worriedly and smooth the covers over his so fragile looking body. In your mind already on the way to Madam Pomfrey, Draco only shakes his head in disapproval. "No, I'm fine. Just a little bit sore, that's all", he genuinely smiles at you, grabbing your hand to pull you closer to him.

Your faces only inches away now you stare into his grey eyes while they roam over your face. "How is your nose?", he asks and his fingers, which found their way to your cheek earlier, lightly brush over the bridge of your nose. His questions makes you huff out and you move away, your cheeks turning in a slightly tint of red. "That is not important right now, Draco. You getting well again is much more important than my nose", you roll your eyes because he is still not paying attention to his own condition that is much worse than yours.

"Not for me", his stubborn self answers, pouding like a child. And before you know it he pulls you back and connects your lips in a loving and cheering kiss. A soft kiss to thank each other for being the other's guardian.

676 notes · View notes

jackoshadows · 3 years

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What are your thoughts on Jon-Bran-Tyrion & their relationship in TWoW & ADoS?

I have read that in GRRM original-idea [?] Jon was to rival Tyrion [because of their love over Arya] as well as Bran for the sake of Northern Power [& Arya apparently too, but not in the same sense??]

[No idea what Bran & Tyrion's relationship was suppose to/could look like, don't think GRRM has mention smth]

That being said, I can get behind Tyrion vs Jon, alright. But Jon vs Bran? How is that suppose to look like/work?

Even if we ignore that they think of each other fondly & miss each other, and that I don't see a reason why this would change all of a sudden... Or that Jon will likely gain the support of the North in TWoW, since he rather fit the "perfect image of an Lord", since he is a able-bodied, traditional [swords-] man, grown & proven as Leader/Lord Commander, has the same education as Robb did, is the eldest Son of Eddard, etc....

[Although I guess Lords like Manderly could prefer Rickon, so they can grap power as his custodian/regents? And the whole being-dead-but-not-anymore-&-what-about-the-oaths thing could be a little tricky & stuff😅] while Bran will likely remain longer behind the Wall, won't be able to rally allies & bannermen [Althouse I have read the speculation of Bran, The Blizzard and The Battle of Ice, my main concern is again the pacing:where Bran's plot seems on overdrive, while Jon's & all those around & in Winterfell are on hold in order for Bran to come back. It's the same problem for me with all those "speculations" about Dany & arriving way to early in Westeros] ...

But the thing that makes it so unbelievable for me is: the fricking age gap?! Put aside their feelings for each other, who is more likely to gain poltical support & all of that, Bran will be like 11 & Jon 18-19? Like... a rivalry between a elementary school student & a high school graduate? 😂🙊

I think for certain that there will be some kind of conflict between Jon and Tyrion. Them shaking hands on the Wall and calling each other friends is foreshadowing a friends to enemies arc, IMO.

As for Jon and Bran, it's hard to see this happening, but I am not ruling out the possibility - meaning that I won't be surprised if it happens. As you mentioned, a Jon/Bran rivalry/bitter estrangement was one of the major parts of the story in the original outline.

By the end of A Game of Thrones,------------------------------------- ---------------------------------g--------------- onto the iron throne with a bit----------------premature death, Bran sits free.--Yet his seat is hardly a comfortable one. In the North, Jon Snow is his bitter enemy. Beyond the narrow sea, Daenerys Stormborn prepares her invasion and on the far side of the Wall, the others are watching with cold dead eyes and gathering their strength.

Can this still happen? I think so. I have always said that GRRM likes his themes of dysfunctional families, conflict among family members and the human heart in conflict with itself and again, I don't see why the Starks should be the exception.

But I think it is a mistake to generalize about “the Westerlings,” just as it would be to generalize about “the Lannisters.” Members of the same family have very different characters, desires, and ways of looking at the world… and there are secrets within families as well.

GRRM SSM, May 01, 2001

The reason Sansa even exists as a character in the first place is because he wanted family conflict among the Starks.

Arya was one of the first characters created. Sansa came about as a total opposite b/c too many of the Stark family members were getting along and families aren’t like that.

Why would Jon and Bran have a rivalry? That I cannot speculate on, yet. We still have a lot of story to cover. But in the next book, my speculation is that both Jon and Bran would have changed a lot.

Bran is the current Lord of Winterfell/Heir to the North/Robb's Heir and King in the North. Robb's decree legitimizing Jon Stark could be a possible issue between them.

GRRM has said that death and resurrection changes a person and Jon is going to be spending time in a wolf. A resurrected Jon Snow coming back more wolfish and more hungry. Remember this?

He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me. It was a hunger inside him, sharp as a dragonglass blade. A hunger … he could feel it. It was food he needed, prey, a red deer that stank of fear or a great elk proud and defiant. He needed to kill and fill his belly with fresh meat and hot dark blood. His mouth began to water with the thought. - Jon, ASoS

GRRM ties in his desire for Winterfell to a deep hunger that then connects to Ghost - his hunger for Winterfell intermingling with Ghost's hunger...

Remember the kings in the North of yore, like Ice Eyes. I doubt Jon Stark is going to hold back much. He's going to be doing some really messed up stuff.

Meanwhile, Bran's heavily involved in the magical stuff beyond the wall. Has connections to Bloodraven, the Children of the forest, can influence timelines (Hodor), unearth past truths and will be one of the most powerful greenseers. Blood sacrifice and human sacrifice is a big part of the dark magic of the north. Maybe they fight over how to defeat the Others? I think Bran's connection to the children of the forest is how they win again this time around - and his relationship with Jon suffers because of that?

Bran ends up King on the Iron Throne and Jon Snow ends up in the lands beyond the wall - just the opposite of what we would expect for these two characters considering where they are now and what we know of them (R+L=J) etc. How does this happen?

Anyways, according to GRRM, TWoW is a very dark book and if there is a Jon-Bran rivalry, we may see the seeds of it being planted in this book.

There are a lot of dark chapters right now in the book that I’m writing,” he said during a Q&A at the Guadalajara International Book Fair, according to Entertainment Weekly. “It is called The Winds of Winter, and I’ve been telling you for 20 years that winter was coming. Winter is the time when things die, and cold and ice and darkness fill the world, so this is not going to be the happy feel-good that people may be hoping for. Some of the characters [are] in very dark places.”

This is why I find all the Dark!Dany stuff slightly hilarious. Is Dany going to do things that go against the Geneva conventions (lol) in the next book? Yeah, I think so. She is going to come back from her sojourn at Vaes Dothrak and be like I have had it with these effing slavers and go all Aegon the Conqueror on them (About time I say, she should have done it a while ago). But I am pretty damn sure most of our characters are going to become darker in the next book. Tyrion is already on a downward spiral, Jon will surely go on a rampage against the Boltons, Bran most probably eating Jojen paste over there and learning dark magic, getting taught by Bloodraven, Sansa participating in the slow poisoning of her little cousin in the Vale and have you read Arya's Mercy chapter? That stuff is dark.

As for the rest, I think we should ignore the age gap like GRRM is planning on doing ( GRRM sees his young people as adults anyway - "Arya has the experiences of a 40 year old, If a 12 year old has to conquer the world then so be it" etc.) and I do think he will include some time gaps in the next two books allowing for travel etc. I am pretty sure Arya will end the books at 14.

Bran, Dany and Arya's plots have to be in overdrive in the next book out of necessity. Bran has to advance a lot in his plot, be used to build up the Others as a big threat, give us more info about the Children, Bloodraven, what is actually happening, Hodor etc. - there's just so much stuff here that GRRM has to write. Same with Dany. Dany has to wind up in Meereen, land in Westeros and start her campaign. Same with Arya. I think that's why they will get the most chapters, and time in the next book.

#Jon Snow #Bran Stark #TWoW speculation #ADoS speculation #asoiaf

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mattyfm · 4 years

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new york’s very own matthew oliver was spotted on broadway street in converse . your resemblance to luke hemmings is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your twenty-fourth birthday bash . while living in nyc , you’ve been labeled as being temperamental , but also benevolent . i guess being a gemini explains that . 3 things that would paint a better picture of you would be bubbly laughter, the smell of fresh coffee, & long drives to watch the sunset . ( cis male & he/him ) + ( monique , 20 , she/her , pst . )

my name is monique i’m both the baddest and saddest bitch you’ll ever meet and i have NEVER written a concise intro in my life, so be prepared for a lot of jumping around, incomplete thoughts, and information you didn’t ask for. without further ado let me introduce you to my angel boy matthew oliver.

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐬

full name. samuel matthew oliver.

nicknames. sam, sammy, matt, & matty (preferred name and most commonly refereed to as).

age. twenty-four.

date of birth. june 17th.

occupation. actor. (i might give him another job eventually but don’t hold me to that)

sexual / romantic orientation. bisexual & biromantic.

birthplace. asbury park, new jersey.

zodiac. gemini.

spoken languages. english.

𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲

samuel mattew oliver was born to two extremely loving parents jeremy and elizabeth marie oliver, arguably one of the most influential celebrity couples known to man, at least that’s what it felt like growing up in the household, everyone was talking about the oliver’s and when they weren’t...well that never happened

as a middle child, preceded by his older brother mason, and succeeded by his younger sister cassandra, naturally he was born with a crave for validation, anything that separated him for his siblings

but naturally in his need to be different he found his closest allies, more so mason than cassie, but eventually she grew on him, and was most certainly not forced upon the dynamic duo of brother by their parents, but believe me he grew to adore her!

childhood was seemingly normal minus the bombarding questions from nosy students who wanted to know what it was like to have celebrity parents or be rich or live in a house with more bedrooms than necessary

unlike his siblings however matty reveled in the attention way more than he let on, it was nice to be noticed for something, even if it wasn’t quite what he’d been hoping to be noticed for

but by no means was he stupid! he wouldn’t allow anyone to take advantage of him and had an unusual talent for knowing when people only wanted to use his friendship as some sort of gain for himself, and extended this talent to his sister cass, because boy oh boy did she need it

their dad who i forgot to mention was a professor at juiliard, his alma matter, caused a constant bouncing back and forth between their coastal home in new jersey and their urban townhouse in new york

both places felt like home to the trio! they made so many good memories, however matty was extremely preferential to the coast, and to this day maintains a beach boy vibe, swears everything is just better by the beach

going back to his upbringing for a minute high school rolled around for him and mason and he just became even more extremely protective of cassie, he went through things extremely unknown to his family

on the outside he was the model person and student, honor roll, a long glowing list of extracurriculars including sports, even holding down a normal job like everyone else at his high school, and not a single blemish in his criminal record, the squeaky clean olivers remained squeaky cleans

HOWEVER there was some shady stuff going on behind the scenes my guy, nothing too terrible, just the usual teenager with loving parents who raise a troubled teen, not because of any past trauma but a need to feel seen

DRUGS & ALCOHOL TW got into a lot of fight but always told them they had to fight after school, he got into drugs, nothing too hardcore, just weed (is that a weed i’m calling the police vibes).....at first.....but that’s a different story so moving on! he of course drank with his buddies at high school parties, honestly just vibing my guys, just straight vibes always

secret!!!!

CAR ACCIDENT TW & ALCOHOL TW & DEATH TW one day he’s vibing, it’s the summer they’re celebrating another school year complete, and by the end of the night nearly black out drunk at this point, he knows he can’t go home so he decides to get a ride home with a buddy he worked with, tell his parents that said buddy took him home after work, they worked on homework and fell asleep. and honestly had he had a little less to drink, he would’ve realized that his friend was just as drunk as he was, but they drove anyways. this lead to a drunken car accident, that ended in the death of a pedestrian. thankfully his friend’s dad was a lawyer, and they covered that shit up immediately.

after this whole ordeal choose an accelerated course of study to pursue his acting career, finally something people would talk about that would be solely his, like not really, but let him have his moment alright, he was desperate

lowkey feels guilty about being a hypocrite towards cassie because he’s telling her not to do any of the thing

ADDICTION TW he almost kicked his habit but getting back into acting and the guilt of having blood on his hands, was too much for matty, and he developed a drug / alcohol dependency, which he recognized was extremely harmful! he went to rehab! and has been very vocal about his struggle with addiction ever since

had an on set romance with a costar that crashed and burned, quite publicly, and was just not good for his mental health one bit! def didn’t help with his constantly teetering sobriety but he managed to get through it with the help of his family and his friends

acting wise he’s starred in a bunch of movies but his baby is the netflix show that he’s been working on, i would like to think it’s kind of a sitcom esque show mixed with the same comedic timing of the office, parks n rec, those kinda self-aware humor vibes

ADDICTION TW he plays one of the main character, and his dipped his toes into directing and writing a couple of episodes, the show truly gives me one day at a time vibes, just brings light to mental health, addiction, important issues you don’t normally see portrayed on tv, and he def plays schneider, the bumbling rich boy who does and says what he’s told, struggles with addiction, has a super childish nature, and just a hint of self-awareness but just a hint as a little treat

this is so ooc but i’m realizing he’s quite literally schneider from one day at a time

MENTAL HEALTH TW & ANXIETY TW has receded from that cool kid persona he once held back in what i refer to as his ‘glory days’ and is now extremely vulnerable to everything and everyone, will literally cry if you even look at him the wrong way. struggles with really bad anxiety, among other mental health issues (which is why his netflix show and he advocate so heavily for mental health!) but is quite literally one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet, softness runs in the oliver family ig.

IS LITERALLY SO CHILDISH....where was once extremely mature for his age....he now copes with his trauma by just acting like a toddler, literally mixes chocolate milk IN HIS MOUTH like a heathen, but that still doesn’t stop him from being fiercely protective of cassie, and will fight anyone for her

currently vibing! filming, being his best(?) self, and making trips to the nj coast

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲

positive traits. accommodating, adaptable, affable, affectionate, agreeable, altruistic, amiable, attentive, caring, cheerful, communicative, compassionate, considerate, courteous, creative, dependable, easy-going, empathetic, exuberant, friendly, fun-loving, generous, gentle, genuine, gregarious, helpful, honest, humane, humble, joyful, kind, lively, loyal, loving, optimistic, outgoing, passionate, playful, reliable, resilient, romantic, sincere, sociable, tender, trustworthy, thoughtful, understanding, and warm-hearted.

negative traits. anxious, amenable, avoidant, awkward, critical, defensive, disorganized, dogmatic, (over)emotional, evasive, foolish, forgetful, forgiving, gullible, headstrong, hopeless, idealistic, impatient, impulsive, irrational, messy, moody, oblivious, (over)protective, sensitive, shy, thoughtless, and weak-willed.

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

here’s some basic plot ideas but we can always brainstorm smth! friends, frenemies, enemies, friends to lovers, childhood friends, ex best friend, costars, unrequited crush, bad influence, exes, one night stand, roommates! i have

#wealthyhq:intro #alcohol tw #drugs tw #mental health tw #anxiety tw #car accident tw #death tw #addiction tw #i hope lia still loves me after this #i might cry a little bit #please love me <3 #I AM NEEDY AND SO IS HE

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itsaudreyhornebitch · 6 years

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Total Knock Out

*cheers excitedly* I'm so happy you're taking prompts! I had this idea for an AU where: Frank’s a famous boxer and Karen the sports reporter gets to interview him on live tv after his win and no one knows that they’re dating until he kisses her right before walking off for a shower (or smth) :') ♥♥

@frank-kastle

Karen looked wildly out of place—she was well aware of this fact. In truth, she’d gotten quite used to it; to sticking out like a sore thumb in a sea of inebriated, sweaty men, all yelling and jumping and carrying on like teenagers. With her pencil skirt and patent leather heels, she seemed like she belonged in a board room, not shoving past sloppy, drunk frat boys on her way to the locker room at Barclays.

In her early years working as a sports reporter for CBS NY, she had tried to blend in with the crowds: baseball cap, jersey, sneakers, jeans. She’d done the beer-in-the-hand, locker room talk, eating hot wings, ‘just one of the guys’ bit (as most female sports reporters do when they are just beginning), mostly in the hopes of gaining a little bit of respect. Of being treated like an equal, by fellow reporters and athletes alike. But she’d quickly learned that it didn’t matter how she dressed—or how competent she had proven herself to be, time and again—because as long as she had a pair of tits, respect was really out of reach. Despite her near-encyclopedic knowledge of sports history and statistics (baseball, basketball, football, boxing—you name it), she was still a woman. A tall, attractive, blonde woman; and that, apparently, outweighed every other fact about her. She was, she’d realized about a year into the job, no more than the “hot chick from CBS with the killer legs” (a direct quote from one of the players for the Mets who hadn’t realized his mic had been on).

So eventually she’d said “fuck it”—fuck all of it. Trying to dress the way she thought she should; trying to play the part of the “cool girl”; trying to appeal to the lowest common denominator, who wouldn’t even show her basic human decency. She was a professional—one who was fucking great at her job—so she was going to dress like one. Silk blouses, red lipstick, and an elegant updo. And fuck anyone who tried to demean or devalue her talents.

“Woah, woah, woah. Watch the equipment there, sport.” Foggy Nelson, who had been Karen’s camera man for the past five years, bumped into her side as he tried to avoid a man stumbling around with Frank Castle’s face on his t-shirt. “Fucking hate this part, walking through the crowds. It’s like nobody respects an expensive Hasselblad around here.” He cradled his camera close to his chest, protectively.

“Who could’ve possibly guessed that boxing fans weren’t all secretly AV equipment enthusiasts?” Karen threw over her shoulder sardonically, side-stepping a puddle of what looked suspiciously like vomit. She swatted at a hand that tried to grope her ass in passing, biting down bitter words.

“All I’m saying is that boxing matches are the worst. The crowds are always rowdier. And way drunker.” Foggy shook his head, trailing Karen in the path she was cutting through the mass of bodies. “Why couldn’t you cover something nice and mild? Like golf? Or badminton? I love badminton!”

“Because there’s no glory in being mild, Foggy.” Karen navigated them to a quiet hallway off to the side of the main lobby, slipping behind a door marked “Employees Only.” Foggy hesitated for a moment before following her—Karen always knew the back ways and secret passages in every arena and stadium they visited, though he had never asked how. Part of him liked to imagine that she spent her evenings poring over blueprints like a bank robber planning a heist. “You know the saying, Fog,” she ducked under a velvet rope clearly meant to keep people out, “no guts; no glory.”

“Yeah, but why does the guts part have to be so fucking literal?” Foggy grumbled. He hated boxing—hated it. The blood and the bruises and the teeth flying. It was all a little much for him. He preferred the quiet sports, like tennis and baseball, where the chances of someone spitting blood on the camera lens were far less likely.

Karen, on the other hand, lived for it. Had grown up watching boxing matches with her father and her brother; even took classes at the gym. So every time there was a big WBA event in need of coverage, Karen was the first to volunteer, dragging Foggy along for the ride.

And tonight’s match…well it was one for the record books.

Frank “The Punisher” Castle in a comeback match against Matt “The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen” Murdock. As soon as the event had been announced, pay-per-view numbers had shot through the roof. Tickets to the live show were selling for the thousands; people who didn’t care about boxing were amped for the match. Even Foggy had been less reluctant about taking on the assignment than he had been with boxing matches in the past. It was that big of a deal.

Five years ago, Frank Castle had been the name on everyone’s tongues—a pure powerhouse of a boxer who could take a hit like nobody’s business. Classic slugger—unpredictable in the ring—lacking finesse, sure, but overwhelming in his ability to apply constant pressure to his opponent; unrelenting in the offense and impenetrable defensively. He’d seemingly come out of nowhere (though some sources claimed he’d worked his way through the underground circuit, which could never be conclusively proven), and brawled his way to the WBA’s number one spot, pound-for-pound. It was a meteoric rise, which Karen had followed obsessively.

Until three years ago, when he’d been injured in a shoot-out in Vinegar Hill. The story that had circulated for months after his injury was as follows: Frank, walking home from the gym one night, sees a young boy being mugged by a group of gang bangers. Having a touch of big-fucking-hero complex, he decides to intervene. Manages to take out three of the assailants before another crew of gang bangers shows up—the boy being mugged apparently one of their own. Guns are drawn—shots are fired—Castle ends up in the hospital with a bullet in the brain and three in the torso.

Three years in recovery—three long fucking years of physical therapy and re-training his body and itching to get back in the ring—all because he had decided to play vigilante. There were rumors that he would never fight again; that his body was beyond repair. But Frank ignored them all and set his sights on the impossible. Someone told him to stay down, and you could guarantee he wouldn’t listen. So he worked hard—and smart, with the help of his trainer, Curtis Hoyle—for three years, knowing that the world hadn’t seen the last of The Punisher. Not by a long shot.

In the meantime, with Castle out of commission, there had been a power vacuum in the world of NYC boxing. A number one spot in the WBA sitting empty, waiting for a new challenger to claim. Enter Matthew Murdock: an out-boxer with enough dexterity and agility to more than make up for his lack of pure voltage. His ascent to power had been much slower than Castle’s—he didn’t have the raw brawn that had made The Punisher so devastating in the ring. But he did have technique. A style of fast-paced, defensive fighting that was damn near impossible to copy. And soon enough, he had claimed the number one spot in the WBA, a new kind of champion.

Until tonight, when a returning Castle had gone 10 vicious rounds with Murdock, defeating him at the 40 minute mark with a brutal TKO, the likes of which the boxing world had never seen before. Murdock had been carried out on a stretcher.

It was the fight of the decade, and Karen was eager to get her interview with Castle, for more reasons than one.

They took several sharp turns, down one deserted hallway after the other, before suddenly emerging at the entrance to the locker room marked “Frank Castle,” which was being guarded by a brawny man in a tight, black t-shirt that read “Arena Security.”

Karen flashed her press badge as she approached the door.

“Sorry ma’am,” the guard shook his head. “No press for another half hour, at least. Castle’s recovering.”

“Oh, uh—” Karen flipped over her badge so that her name, in large, bold letters, was visible. “I’m Karen Page.”

“Oh!” The guard made a surprised little noise, and stepped to the side. “Sorry, Miss Page. I didn’t know it was you.”

“Quite alright,” Karen shook her head, reaching for the door knob. “Thank you.”

Foggy hoisted his camera on his shoulder and shook his head. It was another one of Karen’s little secrets—how she was mysteriously able to weasel her way to early access with some of the athletes. Frank Castle, especially. Every time they’d worked together to cover one of his matches—in the early days, before his injury—Karen found a way to get them into the locker room while other reporters waited behind in the press line. But he wasn’t going to question it—his job was just to point and shoot.

Frank looked up from his place on the bench as the door to the locker room opened; he squinted hard in an attempt to see through his left eye—the one not completely swollen shut. It had been about ten minutes since he’d stepped out of the rink, bloodied and victorious, which meant that it was still too early for press. For endless interviews and answering asinine questions, all while dreaming of a hot shower and a cold ice pack.

“Good showing out there, Castle.”

Frank grinned (in spite of his badly split lip) as soon as he heard her voice—Miss Karen Page, his favorite reporter from CBS NY. He managed to focus his good eye enough to get a look at her, pristine and lovely in her high heels and pressed blouse. Golden hair falling out of a sophisticated twist. Damn, but she looked like a dream.

“Well hello there, Miss Page.” He smirked, leaning back against the lockers, his head making a soft thudding sound as it hit metal. “First one on the scene, as always.”

“You know me,” Karen shrugged with a grin. “Gotta get first blood.”

“Well,” Frank spread his arms wide (and Karen couldn’t help the way her eyes darted to all those sweaty, glorious muscles on display), “plenty of blood to go around.”

“I can see that. You gonna get a medic in here for that eye? Looks like you broke the socket.” Karen took a step forward, raising her hand as though to reach out and touch his face. Thinking better of it, she let her arm fall to her side.

“You know me,” Frank mimicked Karen’s statement. “I’ll just rub some dirt on it.”

Foggy cleared his throat from the doorway, eyes flitting between the two with amusement. Frank Castle was notoriously difficult to interview; laconic, dismissive, and grumpy—getting him to answer a question with more than one sentence was like pulling fucking teeth. With everyone else but Karen, that is. As soon as she strolled onto the scene, all of the sudden Frank was a fucking professional, giving multiple-sentence answers and smiling at the camera like he was goddamn Regis Philbin. Foggy had seen enough painful, awkward footage of Frank shutting down interviewers to know that the way he acted with Karen was far outside the norm. And part of it was clearly due to Karen’s skill—that woman could get a Cistercian monk to talk—but part of it was due to the obvious affection Castle had for her. An affection that—again—it wasn’t really Foggy’s place to question.

“Oh, you remember Foggy?” Karen pointed at the disgruntled camera man, wearing his uniform of baggy, khaki cargo shorts and graphic t-shirt (this one had an image of Princess Leia doing the Rosie the Riveter pose, with the words “We Can Do It” over her head).

“Hey.” Frank grunted, bobbing his head in recognition.

“We’ve only got a minute before we go live, Kare. How do you want me to set this thing up?” Foggy removed the cover from his camera lens, squinting through the eye piece.

“Uh…” Karen glanced around, hands on her hips. “We can get it in front of Frank’s name on the locker. That okay? It’ll be a short interview—just a few questions—so you won’t have to stand for too long.” She looked at Frank, head tilted to the side.

“You can put me anywhere you want me, ma’am.” Frank suppressed a grin at the blush that began to creep its way up Karen’s neck.

“Uhm yes.” Karen cleared her throat, gesturing for Frank to stand. “How about right here?” She moved into position, smoothing a hand down her skirt.

Frank rose with a deep groan, feeling his body protest at the movement. Karen’s eyes immediately shaded with concern.

“You sure you’re okay? We can postpone for a bit if you need an ice pack or something.” This time she did reach out to touch him, putting a steadying hand on his arm as he sidled up next to her.

“Nah, I’m good.” He let his gaze dart down to her pale, delicate fingers on his skin, and felt the heat of it blaze a trail down his spine.

“Okay. But you pass out during this interview and I’ll never forgive you. It’s live, so we can’t edit it out.” Her voice was stern.

“Would make for great T.V. though.”

“True.” Karen pretended to consider for a moment. “Never mind. If you do pass out, give us a little warning so Foggy can get it all on tape.”

Frank snorted, then groaned again when his split lip began to throb.

“Sorry, sorry.” Karen hid a chuckle. “Won’t make you laugh again. I promise.”

“Okay, okay.” Foggy cut into the conversation, having finished setting up his equipment. He reached into his bag and tossed a microphone Karen’s way. She just barely managed to catch it. “Karen, turn that ear piece on.” She reached up to flick on the audio feed in her ear. “We’re rolling in 5, 4 , 3…” he trailed off, mouthing the last few numbers. Karen raised the microphone to her lips.

“Good evening, New York. I’m Karen Page for CBS NY, here in the locker room at Barclay Center with Frank Castle, also known as The Punisher, just minutes after his unbelievable victory over Matthew Murdock.” She shot a grin his way. “So tell me, Frank, how does it feel to be back in the ring after such a long recovery period?”

“Well, Karen.” Frank put a little something on her name—something that felt like affection. “Feels real good. Like coming home.” He shifted on his feet deliberately until his arm was brushing against hers. She raised a subtle eyebrow at the move.

“You certainly looked at home in the ring.” Karen turned her body toward him just a touch more, and Frank bit back a smirk. “Were you at all nervous about going up against Murdock’s singular brand of defense? Facing such an unfamiliar out-boxer with your style of slugging must have been a challenge.”

“Nah—wasn’t nervous.” Frank shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. It was a move that made his muscles bulge, and he counted it a victory that Karen’s eyes darted quickly—almost imperceptibly—to his pecs. “Curtis had been training me like the devil leading up to the fight, so I was really prepared for anything Murdock could throw at me.”

“Speaking of Curtis Hoyle,” Karen tucked an escaped strand of hair behind her ear, and Frank’s eyes tracked the move. He was a sucker for all that blonde hair. “I heard that he was instrumental in helping to speed along your recovery, after the unfortunate incident three years ago.”

“Yeah, definitely.” Frank bobbed his head in a nod. “Curtis kept me thinking about the future—focused on recovery. Worked with my physical therapist to create a training schedule. Brought me tapes of matches to study. A lot of Murdock’s matches, actually.”

“I’m sure it was difficult being bedridden while Murdock climbed the rankings. Do you think the idea of facing off against him kept you fighting to heal?”

“For sure.” Frank dropped his arms again, letting the right one lightly skim down Karen’s side as he did so. Her delicate shiver was glorious. “Thought a lot about getting to reclaim my title while I was training. Also thought a lot about all the people I missed seeing while I was out of commission—the fans, my favorite reporters,” the quirk of his lips was entirely too charming, “my fellow boxers. Focused on them and it made recovery a lot easier.”

“Well, we certainly are glad to have you back in the ring.” Karen’s eyes flicked to Foggy, who was giving her the 30 second signal. Time to wrap up the interview. “We’re going to let you hit the showers, now. Thanks for taking the time to talk with us at CBS NY.”

Frank couldn’t help it—he really couldn’t help it. Karen looked so damn gorgeous in her work clothes, with that serious expression on her face and her lips painted red for the camera. And he’d had enough of light teasing; of brushing against her like that was all he was allowed to do. He knew he wasn’t supposed to do it—that they were keeping their relationship under wraps for just a little bit longer—but he was helpless. When she turned those big, blue eyes on him—damn it—he really was a fool.

“Sure thing.” Frank smirked. “I’ll see you at home, sweetheart.” He ducked his head quickly, before Karen could react, and captured her lips with his own. She made a surprised squeak, hands flying up to press against his bare chest, before melting into the kiss ever so slightly.

“What the fuck?” Foggy’s whisper echoed in the quiet locker room.

Frank released Karen’s lips with a smack, winking at her devilishly before turning to head for the showers.

“I—uh—” Karen stuttered, turning to the camera with wide, dazed eyes. “I’m Karen Page and this is CBS NY sports.”

Foggy gave her the signal that they were off air, and they stared at each other for a long time. Speechless. Foggy looking bemused and Karen looking shell-shocked. The sound of the shower turning on in the background shook her from her brief catatonia.

“Uh…I can explain. We—he—uh,” She fumbled for words, but was cut off by Foggy.

“Oh my GOD, Karen Page! You are seeing The Punisher!” He laughed, slapping his thigh in joy. “Good on you!”

“Yeah, I…” Karen grinned. “Good on me.”

#kastle #karen page #frank castle #the punisher #request

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