For The Love Of Protection

I smirk like the lusty fangirl I am, as I write this, because the alpha woman in me wouldn't accept anything less than the compassionately broken hearted widower and killing machine that is Frank Castle. While there is a part of me that sees value in every life, even the most antisocial and sociopathic, it's vastly outweighted by the part of me that knows the world is over populated and thus overconsuming-- yet more importantly, that believes The Punisher's brand of justice may very well simply be a cosmic balancing.

Making Frank Castle the gardener of wayward, darkened souls, pruning the dregs of society from the earth, a few blackened branches at a time.

It's those beliefs and his skillsets that make him my prime choice as a personal protector, my bodyguard.

Of course, I can't deny those aren't the only reasons. I find him intoxicatingly sexy even when he's not doing anything remotely seductive. I have to admit I'd enjoy watching him-- he probably wouldn't enjoy my level of voyuerism, but I'd be compelled to observe. Soak him in through every emotional and violent spectrum. Likewise, I'm sure I'd find myself looking for any opportunity to steal a kiss of those lips and distract us both from whatever shitshow I'd hired him into, just for a second.

Even Frank can appreciate having a fantasy land to retreat to when shit gets damagingly ugly. He doesn't talk for the sake of talking, nor beat around the meat of what needs doing, from his perspective. Dedicated. Driven. Precise. Loyal.

What's not to want? He can protect me, any time.

|| another_proser ||