Tori

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See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna
the-shining-river
the-shining-river

Hey, so here’s a thought.

In the end of DD S2, Karen told Frank he’s dead to her if he kills Schoonover, and then he did, and they didn’t talk until he came to her looking for help with Micro. Because she doesn’t like him killing people, even if they’re bad guys.

In her apartment, she agrees to help him after he nods that his “business” is finished. He gets a hug, and Karen is ready to be friends again.

At the river, she gives him info about Micro against her better judgement, because she doesn’t want to get the guy killed, but at least Frank promises that Micro has nothing to fear from him if he’s not dirty and not dangerous.

When they meet by the bridge again, Karen might be suspecting his involvement in Wolf’s death, but at least he tells her how he saved Madani and — when she specifically asks — he soothes her concerns, tells her Micro is alive.

When she gets all emotional is when she realises Frank is preparing for war again, he is going to kill again. It kind of mirrors the moment at Schoonover’s cabin — Karen knows what he’s gonna do and asks him not to. But this time, Frank asks what the alternative is, tries to explain his rationale, his fears, how this shit needs to be stopped in general, and the bad guys need to be punished, and he needs to be 100% sure this shit never spreads to Karen.

So what if that smooch and the ‘Please’ is not only about Karen not touching anything Kandahar-related, but — not turning her back on him when the killing starts again?

ninzied
ninzied

tagged by: @152glasslippers approximately 37 years ago to find hold, look, smile, free in my wips. thanks pal ♡

hold (a kastle after fic)

It’s actually the shortest time he’s spent in a hospital. There’s no red tape or guard at the door, and when Karen arrives, there are no handcuffs holding him back as he reaches for her. They end up releasing him with a splint on his wrist, and a perfunctory “Have a nice day, Mr. and Mrs. Castiglione” as they’re walking out together.

Karen’s quiet as she drives, but she squeezes him back when he takes hold of her hand, gently touching his jaw when he brings her palm up to his mouth.

It’s not until they’re home, and he sees their dinner untouched on the table, the broken stem of a wine glass on the counter where Karen must have been standing when she took the EMT’s call, that Frank realizes. How truly terrified she must have been that something had actually happened to him.

look (finding frank - a fic by foggy nelson)

The day after Frank Castle escapes from the hospital – again – Karen calls out sick from work.

And Foggy would bet his life savings that that is not a coincidence.

There’s no mention of Karen’s involvement in the papers or on the morning news. But Foggy’s not stupid, and the look on Matt’s face tells him he’s definitely not wrong about this.

smile (coffeeshop au)

“Karen,” comes that gravelly voice, as she’s perusing the glass case of pastries. “Small latte for Karen.”

He’s leaning his hands against the counter, grinning crookedly at her as she approaches. “Good morning.”

“Not until I get my coffee, it isn’t.” Karen returns his smile, feeling her mood lighten considerably.

He winces, looking sympathetic. “That kind of day already, huh?”

“Pretty much,” Karen affirms. “The kind that started at four in the morning when my roommate came home and almost set the place on fire.” She decides not to mention the blood—which there’d been more of than usual—or the broken window that she still needs to call the super about, or the fact that this was already the third time that week.

She and Matt are going to have a talk about this.

free (notting hill au)

He doesn’t see her in time, and she lets out a gasp as their bodies are colliding together. Frank’s coffee is spilling all over a familiar black coat, and the white blouse she has on underneath.

“Fuck,” says Frank. The light is hitting just right, and he can see through those sunglasses into her eyes as he looks up at her face. But he doesn’t have time to admire her features from this up close, because he’s just gotten coffee all over the rest of her.

“Fuck,” he utters again. “I’m – fuck.”

“You said that already,” she notes wryly, removing her sunglasses to get a better look at the damage. She reaches into her handbag, pulling out a handful of napkins. She gives him a few, and he realizes then that the coffee’s all over him too, already soaking into his flannel.

“Thanks,” he says. “And – sorry about this.”

“I would’ve taken you more for a black coffee kind of guy,” she remarks, almost offhanded, as she pats herself down. He can’t get a read on her face anymore, but there’s a hint of a smile in her tone as she adds, “Goes with the whole hipster vibe.”

“That’s funny,” says Frank, very gravely. “Ma’am, if I’ve offended you that badly—”

“It’s Karen,” she says, and yes, she is definitely smiling now. “Please. Call me Karen.”

“Okay. Karen.” Frank feels a smile of his own start to form, and he rubs the back of his head, ducking his gaze for a moment. “If you, um. Need something to change into, my place is just a few blocks away. Or if you want to wait at the shop, I can bring something to you. Our bathroom’s on the smaller side, but Curt’s got one – the, uh, the coffee guy you go to every morning. We served together, so he and I go way back. Shit, he’ll probably throw in a latte for free, white rose art and all. For your trouble, you know, for having to deal with me all day.”

Frank’s rambling, and he knows it.

Karen tilts her head at him. “White roses, huh.”

“He – yeah.” Frank swallows. Shit. He might as well give her Curt’s number while he’s at it. How did he get so off track? Is he really this out of practice?

As if she’s read his mind, Karen raises an eyebrow and says, a little teasingly, “You must spill coffee on all of the girls.”

tagging: @carry-the-sky @heidiamalia @redbelles @heartonfirewrites @edourado @garglyswoof @darlingshane @onebatch2batch @the-restless-brook @myletternevercame @zushigirl to find break, dark, fall, regret

blackeyewhiterose

An Unkindness of Ravens

blackeyewhiterose

Chapter 3, “Retired Murder Van,” on Ao3

“I, uh…could you look into someone for me? Just, y’know, a background check?”

With just the slightest hesitation, David reached up and pulled a freestanding computer onto his lap. “Name?”

“Matthew Murdock. He was my attorney when I went on trial.” David was already typing, but Frank continued, “It’s probably gonna say he’s dead, but maybe there’s records from the last few days, ‘cause I know he’s alive. You need any other personal details?”

“Nope, I got him,” David said briskly. “Yeah, okay, a year after he represented you in court he was reported missing and then…this was around the time that…” All of a sudden, David’s eyes widened and he blurted out, “Holy shit, is he Daredevil?!”

kanerallels

Anonymous asked:

How do you feel about Kastle with:

“I’ve never been good at emotions, or telling people how I feel. Except maybe anger, I’m good at that.”

kanerallels answered:

I feel VERY intrigued by it!! I hope you like what I came up with:

“I’ve never been good at emotions, or telling people how I feel. Except maybe anger, I’m good at that.”

Karen felt a pang run through her at the matter of fact tone Frank used. “That’s not true,” she said quietly. “You’re more than just your anger, Frank.”

He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Still looking for an after for me, huh?”

“Always.” The words slipped out, burning with honesty and fear and a fierce refusal to let go. Because Karen wasn’t going to just sit by and watch him fall to his own anger again. Not if she could help it.

The fire in her voice seemed to light up Frank’s eyes, just for a moment, as he studied her. “You’re safer if you don’t. If you stay away.”

“That’s never stopped me before.”

zushigirl
zushigirl

Tagged by the phenomenal @ninzied to find break, dark, fall, and regret…Here’s the first one and - boy - has this tag game been fun! May turn one of these wips into a full fledged fic. Let me know what you think!

image

Break (Bookstore AU)

The quiet.

The shift in energy hits Karen the moment she enters the bookstore. All the chatter of Hell’s Kitchen – the hum of voices, the roar if traffic, the pings and digs of cell phones – seem to fade away. Almost as if she’s been transported to another world.

Like Alice stepping through the looking glass.

She makes her way down the stairs, eyes tracing the rows of wooden shelves filled with tattered paperbacks. Foggy called Castle’s Used Books dreary, but she loves it instantly. Rows upon rows of faded paperbacks. The smell of paper. The focused energy. The place reminds her of the old bookstore across from the Student Union at Georgetown.

Making it to the bottom step, Karen grins. The sign by the unmanned checkout desk is the real reason Foggy poopoos this place.

Silence your cell phone or get the hell out.

The infamous sign.

Foggy told her about it.

“I was minding my own business. Just waiting for Marci to find some Daniel Steel novel. I pull out my phone to check my email for like one second. One second. The minute my phone pings, the owner was on me. He appeared out of nowhere, towering over me. Scowling. Eyes glinting like some psycho murder. Told me to try reading something other than Instagram reel on my phone.”

Karen chuckles to herself. Poor Foggy. He doesn’t know how to disconnect.

Glancing up, she studies the chalkboard signs at the beginning of each aisle. Poetry. That’s the section she’s been tasked to find. Specifically, The Hollow Men by T. S. Elliot. Ellison’s birthday gift from the staff. The newspaper editorial is a huge fan of the poet’s work, and this is the one piece not stuffed in the massive bookshelf behind his desk.

This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang, but with a whimper.

Karen remembers reading the poem in college. It’s a little dark for her tastes, but if the man who plays gatekeeper to her name being published in the next edition loves it…

It takes fifteen minutes of wandering through the store, but Karen finally finds the poetry section by the back wall. Of course, T.S. Eliot is located all the way at the very top of corner of it all. She glanced warily at the step stool sitting at the very end of the aisle. It’s not quite tall enough for her to reach her target and the heels she’s wearing won’t make things any easier.

Sighing, Karen grabs the stool and leans up against the bookshelf. She climbs on top, standing on her tip toes, craning her neck to scan the titles.

Hollow Men, Hollow Men, come on Hollow M –

“Ma’am?” A gravelly voice – the first she’s heard since entering the store - echoes behind her.

“Shit!”

In an instant, Karen’s wobbling on the stool. Then she’s teetering on the edge. Then –

Someone’s holding her steady. A firm hand on her forearm.

“Hey. Hey. Be careful now.”

Karen looks down…to find a pair of coffee-colored eyes staring up at her. Suddenly she knows who this is…and Foggy was wrong.

Frank Castle doesn’t have eyes like a psycho murder. His eyes are…Karen can’t put her finger on it, but there’s a story in those eyes. A story so compelling she can’t break her gaze.

garglyswoof
garglyswoof

tagged by @carry-the-sky at some point, and recently by @evilbunnyking and @ejunkiet for wip idk some particular day, here is a snippet that i just reread of a kastle fic still kinda chilling and waiting for my head to be back in the right spot.

She knows Ben’s death is hers to own, despite Foggy’s furious arguments to the contrary. When she’d admitted it to him over a bottle of Josie’s best and another bar’s worst, his objections had been manipulative in that sneakily charming way of his. “If Ben’s your fault, then Mrs. Cardenas is mine!” She would understand in the moment, fierce denial and love blooming in her heart, until those mornings when the weak light of dawn found her sleepless and trapped in her own head. It’s different, she thinks, Ben's different, and flips up her laptop to schedule another training session.

That’s how she fights it, over and over. Because guilt is a weight that can’t be carried, merely dragged along behind. She takes classes in aikido, judo, karate, changing up the sessions, taking notes and finding the moves that suit her best, that ease into muscle memory. She studies texts, some from the library - Nietsche and Sun Tzu, an old Marine’s handbook she picked up at an estate sale, info from seedy internet sites she funnels through multiple VPNs. Techniques of coercion, of battle, of the psychology of man. All devoured in those early morning hours like she’s studying under a deadline.

tagging @not-a-regular-mom bc she needs to get her 100k fic out into the world, ok?

starkholme
starkholme

I don't know if I'm not using the right tags or if there isn't any story like this but... Does anyone knows any Kastle fics with Pacific Rim setting?

Because just imagine the angst of Frank having to learn how to have/be a partner again, Karen just being afraid of her darkest memories appearing and everyone's shock when they found out Frank & Karen are actually drift compatibles

It would fit them SO MUCH

the-shining-river
the-shining-river: “““Can you trust that? After everything they’ve done to you, everything you’ve been through—can you… can you trust me?” Frank looked up at her again, and it felt like that moment in the elevator when he’d stepped away from her,...
the-shining-river

“Can you trust that? After everything they’ve done to you, everything you’ve been through—can you… can you trust me?”

Frank looked up at her again, and it felt like that moment in the elevator when he’d stepped away from her, just moments before he’d pulled himself up into the shaft. There was something soft in his eyes again, almost a smile in the line of his lips.

“Yeah. Yeah, you might be the only person I trust, ma'am.”

He’d left soon after, the heavy material of his jacket, the warm skin scent of his neck and his clean-shaven cheek, the vague smell of gun oil burned into her memory as she’d hugged him goodbye.

She’d known she might never see Frank Castle again.

She had still hoped she would.

Hell’s Garden on AO3, a Kastle WIP, currently at 9k words and chugging along somewhat steadily!