#/i hope REALLY hope to get the daredevil one signed

[its-all-stardust]

Heyy

I’ve always have had a weak spot for sensory deprived matt (like when he looses his hearing). The angst and neediness that may come from it. So maybe for an idea what about a matt x reader…Let’s say the weeks or days that it takes for him to recover and how that affects him and the relationship as he’s not used being the one in need of help and is momentarily no longer Daredevil, as well as all of the complications not hearing may entail.

(Also unrelated but if you could add a cat as a pet just like a little detail it would be fantastic jsjs )

Thanks !

Ask and ye may receive! Sorry this took a month to get out, but I'm bad at prioritizing my hobbies and even worse at editing my fics once I finish writing them (this took like a week and a half to edit because my brain is dumb lasjdfljs)

I really hope you enjoy this fic (and yes I included a cat!!)

And as for the other requests I got, don't worry, they're still handing around. I started writing the next chapter of Sugar and want to finish that up before jumping to the next request!

Masterlist

Matt Murdock/GN!Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Matt refused to let go of you in those first few days. The world didn’t feel right, he said. You made it better, letting him know he was still alive—that you were still alive. He would press his ear to your chest, begging for the sound of your heartbeat.

Matt thought he died after the homemade bomb went off next to his head. Maybe he had finally died in an explosion, no underwater cavern-turned-sewer saving him. Maybe the shrapnel got him. A piece of metal penetrating his suit and making it to his heart or brain.

But no. He was still alive. Everything was just…gone. Or rather, it felt like it was.

He’d experienced it before, the loss of his hearing. This time was different, though. Age or one too many hits to the head, neither of you had figured it out. All you knew was that it had been days, and nothing was as it should have been for Matt.

His hearing wasn’t gone completely, as what happened before, but it was so dulled, to him, it was like he was practically deaf. Touch and smell were still sensitive, but their intensity felt lessened in the face of losing yet another of his senses.

It left the world around him feeling empty.

“I have to go to work, Matty,” you said gently, stroking a hand through his hair.

Matt sighed and held you tighter. He hadn’t even heard your alarm go off. No matter how deeply he slept before, he could always hear the tinny tune of a violin playing through cracking speakers. Now, there was nothing unless he was already on the verge of waking up.

“Can’t you stay?” Matt asked, refusing to remove his weight from your body, still pinning you to the bed.

“It’s been a week,” you explained, regret filling your voice. “I have to go back.”

You stayed with him because he needed you. The bomb—and the fight leading up to the explosion—did enough damage to his body that you wouldn’t have left him alone in the first place. Adding his dulled hearing meant you definitely weren’t going to leave him.

But it had been a week, and Matt’s external injuries were healing well. However, there didn’t seem to be any sign that his hearing would return. As far as you could figure since Matt barely had a basis for comparison—he has had heightened sense for the majority of his life and barely remembers what it was like not being able to hear a heartbeat from across the room—his hearing was like that of a non-enhanced person.

At this point, it could very well be Matt’s new normal.

Both of you agreed that he shouldn’t go to the hospital. Very few things could make Daredevil seek professional treatment, and considering he was still breathing, he wasn’t going anywhere. And if he did go, there would be the trouble of trying to convince a doctor that Matt has hearing loss when he can still hear you speaking at a normal volume across the open spaces of your apartment.

He was also holding out hope that his hearing would return to normal. Temporary hearing loss from loud sounds is well documented. In another week, Matt may very well be back in the suit, counting the number of goons in a warehouse through the walls.

But nothing was certain.

You tried shifting out from under Matt, but he squeezed you and whispered, “Please.”

“You’re not helpless, Matt.” You loved your boyfriend but couldn’t stand letting him mope around the apartment with you for another day, praying something would change. He needed to try. Maybe if you weren’t around, he finally would.

Matt didn’t move for a moment, still lying on top of you. Then, he silently lifted himself off you and rolled over, burying his face in the pillow on his side of the bed.

“Matt?” you called, seeing the tension in his shoulders. You hated seeing him like this.

“Go,” he said, voice flat, almost lifeless. You touched his shoulder, but he flinched at the contact.

You sighed, giving him one last look before climbing out of bed to start getting ready for work.

“I’ll let Foggy and Karen know you know you’re still not feeling well,” you told him just before you left. You had walked back into the bedroom and stood at his side, giving him another chance to speak to you.

Still, he said nothing. In fact, you were sure he was pretending to be asleep.

Regardless, you leaned down and kissed his cheek. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

With that, you left Matt. Alone.

When he was younger, Matt was used to being alone. As he got older, though, it became a thing of the past. Even if one of his friends wasn’t nearby, there would inevitably be some noise that rose above the din, breaking through the unintelligible cacophony of voices and sounds to remind him that there were always people around.

Now, without you in the apartment for the first time since the explosion, it was as if he was the only person left in the world. 

He was almost afraid to leave the bed. What if he tried stepping out of the room and fell into the void? What if this was a special Hell just for him? The fear was irrational, he knew, but he came close to death so many times now a part of him would always wonder if he truly was still alive.

But then he heard something he couldn’t ignore: the very distinct yowl of a very persistent cat. It was the sound she usually made when begging for food.

You must have forgotten to feed her before you left.

Whatever he thought of himself, of you, then, didn’t matter. Beans, the short-haired calico you and Matt adopted a couple of years ago, let out a particularly annoyed screech from the bedroom doorway, and Matt knew she’d be in his face in a moment if he didn’t follow her wishes.

After filling her bowl, he lay on the couch, not having the energy to go back to the bedroom. A few minutes later, after the crunching of the kibble stopped, Matt’s breath got knocked out of him when Beans launched herself onto his stomach.

Afraid of knocking her off, he held still while Beans walked across his body. She took a place on his pillow, wrapped herself around his head, and started purring.

At least the cat wanted to stay with him.

When you came home, you didn’t know what you’d find. Matt hadn’t answered your call at lunch, though you weren’t surprised, not after what you said and how he reacted.

You certainly didn’t expect to see him sitting on the floor, back against the couch, playing with Beans. He held a plastic stick in his hand, making her chase the bundle of feathers attached to it with an elastic string. 

“How are you feeling?” you asked carefully, stopping next to Matt and interrupting playtime. “You didn’t answer the phone earlier.”

Matt let the toy drop, Beans mauling it immediately. “Fine.”

You waited for more. He knew you were waiting. After a moment of nothing but the sound of Beans dragging the toy out of Matt’s hand and across the floor, you gave up and went to the bedroom to change.

During dinner, the air between you and Matt remained tense.

“I’m pretty sure Foggy and Karen are going to break down the door tomorrow if they don’t hear from you,” you said, trying to prompt Matt into some sort of conversation. This past week, he hadn’t wanted you more than an arm’s length away, needing to feel you, hear your voice. Now, he was doing his best not to acknowledge your existence.

“They won’t need to. I’m going back into the office.” There wasn’t any feeling to his words.

“You are?” you asked, surprised. When you last tried having that talk the other day, he shut you down, saying he couldn’t.

“I’m not helpless,” Matt sneered, throwing your words from this morning back at you and making you flinch. He didn’t notice, though, unable to perceive other people as well as he once did.

You said nothing more, and Matt got up from the table, done with dinner and the conversation.

That night, in bed, he stayed on his side.

“Matt,” you called softly. You reached out to touch his back. “What I said this morning—”

“Forget it,” he said, cutting you off. He didn’t want your apology. “Let’s just go to sleep.”

Maybe you should have tried harder to talk to him, to apologize for hurting him, but you didn’t. Instead, you rolled over so the two of you would be back to back and fell asleep.

Try as he might, Matt couldn’t focus. More than once, Karen or Foggy caught him losing himself in the middle distance. Like the past week, Matt was prone to sitting in silence, unmoving, unthinking, waiting for his hearing to return. While a fine thing to do at home, it caused concern and frustration at the office when his partners were trying to get him up to speed on their cases.

Though not usually one to coddle, Foggy asked if Matt was even ready to return to work.

“Maybe you should go home for the day, and we’ll pick this back up tomorrow,” Foggy said after the fourth attempt to regain Matt’s attention.

Matt gritted his teeth. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t have t—” Karen started.

“I can do this,” Matt insisted, not letting her finish.

Nothing more was said on the topic, and Matt was able to keep from falling into the void. He didn’t let himself stop, moving from one task to another almost manically. He didn’t even realize the end of the day arrived until Karen touched his shoulder, urging him to go home.

And then Matt was lost again.

It took him longer than usual to get home that day. Not because he lost his way but because he knew when he finally made it home, the whole day would repeat again.

He’d get up, go to work, come home, and still not be able to hear as he should.

Most importantly, he’d have to forgo being Daredevil.

To Matt, this didn’t feel like a natural end to the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, making it hard to reconcile that that part of his life was over. There was still so much he had to do, so much he would be capable of doing. If he had the full scope of his abilities.

He wasn’t ready for it to end.

“Hey,” you said when Matt finally walked through the door. You’d been waiting for him, had even left work early on the chance he did too so you could be with him. You didn’t call when he didn’t arrive at his usual time. You weren’t sure he would have answered if you had.

Since then, you’ve been nervously awating his return. With how he took your comment the previous day and his brushing off your attempt to apologize, you weren’t sure what he’d be like today.

“How was work?” you asked when he didn’t respond, trying to sound like it was any other day and that his frigidness didn’t bother you.

“Fine,” Matt sighed, giving no sign of elaborating.

“You wanna help with dinner?” you asked tentatively, unable to parse out his mood and not wanting to answer any potential resentment with a negative response.

Matt nodded, subdued, and moved toward the kitchen, not bothering to change.

You wished you knew how to help him.

As it neared two in the morning, something rustled in the other room. 

Living in New York City, having a cat, and being with Matt made you immune to certain sounds at all hours of the night, but this past week, you seem to have gotten used to certain sounds not coming from inside your apartment.

You knew immediately what it was before you even opened your eyes. You thought nothing of it at first and were tempted to nuzzle deeper into your pillow. It took a moment for recent memory to come back to you, reminding you that you shouldn’t be hearing the sounds of Matt’s suit being dragged out of its hiding place.

“What are you doing?” you asked after stepping out of the bedroom and spying Matt in the dim light from the windows pulling his suit from his father’s old trunk. He jumped, dropping his suit and turning to face you. You’d never been able to sneak up on Matt before.

“I need to go,” Matt said, voice stern.

“And what do you think will happen?” You stepped over to him and crossed your arms.

“I’ll be fine.” He’s told you that multiple times, and you didn’t believe him for a second.

“You didn’t even notice I was behind you. Apparently, you didn’t even hear me get out of bed, and that mattress creaks like nobody’s business.”

Matt clenched his jaw, his fists twitching at his side. “I can do this. I know I can. Maybe if I just—”

“Just what?” you interrupted. “If you just got your head knocked around a couple more times, your hearing would come back?” When he didn’t respond, you assumed that was precisely what he intended to do.

Your heart started to race. You worried about Matt as it was when he was in perfect health. You didn’t want to think about what would happen to him if he went out as a regular man.

“Matt, I can’t let you do that,” you said gently.

“You can,” he argued, fist clenched in the top half of his suit that he still held out in front of him.

Stepping forward, you placed your hands on his, subtly trying to loosen his grip.

“It’s too dangerous.” You shook your head. “Maybe in the future, once you’ve had more time to adapt. But right now? It’s just not a good idea.”

Matt was frozen in place. You waited, the seconds ticking by, wanting to see what he would do.

Then the suit slipped from Matt’s fingers, falling in a heap back into the trunk.

If Matt had been cold to you before, the following few days were worse.

He’d managed to wake before you and practically run from the apartment as soon as he realized you were awake. Matt has never done anything to hurt you. Sure, there were small things here and there, as with most couples, but never something like this. Never something so intentional.

Was he trying to hurt you, or was he just trying to protect himself? Did he think he wouldn’t be reminded of everything that’s changed if he stayed away from you?

Either way, you knew you needed to talk, yet some part of you wanted to wait for Matt to come to you. But Matt was as stubborn as you were, and you didn’t want to lose him more than you already had.

“Are you going to talk to me today?” you asked over dinner, letting some of the hurt you’d been feeling slip through.

For the most part, Matt had avoided saying more than a few words to you. At night, you both were careful to stay on your own sides of the bed.

It was like living with a roommate who didn’t particularly care for you.

“There’s not much to say,” Matt said, focusing intently on his food. “Work wasn’t anything special today.”

He had actually made dinner that night, volunteered for it, in fact. You had hoped that meant he would be more willing to talk to you, sort out whatever it was he felt you were the cause of. 

Apparently, you were wrong.

“Do you blame me for what happened to you?” If he wouldn’t bring it up, that meant you had to.

Matt shook his head. “You weren’t even there.”

“So you’re upset because I stopped you from going out the other night,” you concluded.

“No,” Matt said immediately, but the words lacked any sort of feeling.

“Then what? What is it? Because you’re not acting like the Matt I know.”

He was still. Then, quietly, “Because I’m not.”

He’s not that man anymore, and Matt thought, not for the first time, that you didn’t deserve to be with something as disappointing as him.

You had been talking to Karen and Foggy. Matt didn’t need his enhanced hearing to figure that out. He didn’t know what the three of you talked about, but he knew he was the general topic.

His friends tried harder to get him to go out, make plans, but he always declined, coming up with one excuse or another.

It went on like that for another week. Matt tried to make more of an effort with you and Foggy and Karen, but he still wasn’t his usual self. He wasn’t who he was before and didn’t know if he would ever be again.

He didn’t know what to do at all. He was just going through the motions, and because of that, he shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was when you finally said something.

Matt had been sitting at the kitchen table, the paperwork he wasn’t reading as carefully as he should have been spread across it. Truthfully, Beans was making more use of it as a bed than Matt was after he shooed her off his laptop.

When you walked up to him, Beans immediately awoke, releasing a chirp and standing. She hopped from the table to wind herself between your legs. She had always favored you but had been sticking closer to Matt the past couple of weeks as if sensing his distress.

“Do you want me to leave?” you asked without preamble, and Matt froze. Before, he would have sensed the stuttering of your heart, the nervous shaking in your hands. He would have had a warning before you worked up the courage to say something that would be difficult.

This time, though, he was blind-sided.

“What?” was the only thing he could make come out of his mouth.

Matt didn’t want you to leave. Yes, he was a disappointment to you and knew you needed better. But he loved you, and he was still as selfish as ever.

But…if you no longer loved him, if you wanted to leave…

“No, of course not,” he finally said. He licked his lips, a nervous habit. “But…”

“But what?” you asked sharply.

Were your arms crossed? Or your hands on your hips? Were you running a hand over your face in anger? Frustration? Was your chest tight with fear of what he would say? Matt can still figure out some movements, can still feel the shift in the air, but some things, especially when he’s stressed, are lost to him.

“But I won’t stop you...if you want to leave,” he finished quietly.

You didn’t move; didn’t make a sound. Matt strained his ears, focused entirely on you, trying to pick on anything.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you spit. You stepped toward Matt, and Beans skittered away, her claws scratching on the floor.

“I’m not going to make you stay with me. Now now that I…that I’m like this.”

Will you yell? You never have before, but he’s different now. Maybe you are, too.

“Matt.” His name is an exasperated sigh on your lips. Then your hands are on his face, gently cradling it like he was a precious thing. “You’re not a different person, even though you’re acting like it. And I’m not dating you because of what you could hear.”

Matt shakes his head. “I’m not what I once was. I’m not—” He choked on the words. “I’m not Daredevil.”

It was the first time he said it out loud.

“Just because you’re not Daredevil doesn’t mean you can’t help people. You were a lawyer long before you put on that suit. That doesn’t stop just because you put it away.”

That was true. Matt had been Daredevil for so long that sometimes it was hard for him to think beyond it.

Your hands dropped from his face, and Matt threw a hand out, not wanting you to leave him. His hand landed on your waist and twisted into your shirt to keep you close. He had lied when he said he wouldn’t stop you.

“I’ll tell you now, though,” you started. You didn’t move away, but neither did you touch him. “You can’t keep acting like you have been. You can’t keep shutting me out. Can’t keep shutting Karen and Foggy out. You need to start living again.”

Matt went quiet.

“So, what are you going to do?” you asked after a moment.

“You’re not going to leave?” Matt asked, his voice soft and quiet, almost like he didn’t want you to hear.

You sighed, and Matt’s heart seized until he heard the light, teasing tone of your voice.

“Depends on what your answer is.”

Matt pulled you into him so he could wrap his arms around you. You didn’t object and let him hold you.

You were right.

Matt was pushing everyone and everything away again. He had done it before, and it didn’t work out. His friends wouldn’t let him. He should have known better than to think they would let him slip away.

“I’m sorry I…” He wasn’t sure how to put it. “I’m sorry I stopped trying.” Then he corrected himself. “I’m sorry I gave up.”

Your arms settled around his shoulders. “That I wasn’t there for you enough.”

Matt started to shake his head. He had been acting like the world had ended. Like a child withdrawing from the world when it got too scary. Your words were the push he needed.

“I could have done something better,” you said, already knowing he would try to shoulder all the blame. “You’re allowed to tell me I need to do better. Just like I’m allowed to do the same. You don’t have to do it, but I still get to say it.”

Matt gave a small smile, the tugging on his lips an unfamiliar feeling.

This felt…normal.

“We’ll both do better. Deal?” he asked, a lightness returning to him, missing since the night of the explosion.

“Deal,” you answered and kissed him.

[farfromstrange]

Ok so just read one of your thots that ended in. The tag “submissive and breedable” and that instantly got me going on my own thot. So I present a concept to follow that one up

Matt’s been working hard. At work, as daredevil in bed. Hard work all the time working for others. Saving them, advocating for them, always putting himself first. He hates asking for things won’t often times (as you’ve said I agree).

So he’s back at it again instantly trying to please and pleasure you which you would normally love getting to have him dom you and pull every bit of pleasure from your body is amazing. But you know he’s been working too hard. And even if you have to force him you will make him take the love and care he deserves

Cue you pushing him back into a chair as he tries to get up. And climbing on top lining up to the spot. “Your going to listen to me. Tonight I want two things. Your obedience and your cum. Do you hear me.” Grinding your ass down into him nipping at his ear as you whisper. Knowing it may shock him normally you wait for his signal to get in control but you know he needs it. And your more then happy to accept both things from him.

You pull so much pleasure from him pushing him aorund when he tries to do anything but sit back and take your love. Holding him down nipping or grabbing at his hands if they try and work too hard your aggressive with it but you know he loves both pleasure and pain that you give him and he’s a whimpering mess by the end both covered and sticky but you want one more “one more my good boy I know. You got a little more in you. Cum deep in me. One more and I promise you can pleasure me too” thay final promise gets him he’s spent but even so blissed out from it all he wants you.

As he finishes and you roll off him equally tired and proud to take care of him he just rolls over cleaning up as much of his cum off you finally begging so sweetly to taste you that you give in and let him still puling at his hair and praising him as he eats you up.

I’ve written a few now but don’t have a Mat nsfw blog so I may just start signing as 🪷

I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG! You have really been waiting an eternity, so I tried to do your thot justice. I hope I didn't disappoint you. (Also, definitely saving 🪷 for you in case you ever decide to slide some more thots into my inbox!)

Tbf I thought your scenarios couldn’t get much better than the last few, but I was gravely mistaken. I am spiraling over here. The pictures you put in my head, I–

Honestly, I thought there was not much I could add to this because it’s already juicy enough, but I did end up playing around with it a bit. I hope you don’t mind. 

Pairing: Matt Murdock x afab!Reader (otherwise no gendered pronouns)

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: Smut, unprotected p in v, creampie, sub!Matt, praise kink, oral f!receiving, and other sexy stuff mentioned above

Smut under the cut. 18+ MINORS DNI!

The pads of his rough fingers rub slow circles over your swollen clit. Your slick walls clench around nothing, and it’s torture every single time his touch on the sensitive bundle of nerves sends shockwaves through your body.

Matt kisses from your lips to your jaw and down your neck. He has been on you ever since he came home from work. Everyone seems to need him lately, and he doesn’t know how or when to stop. It’s work, it’s the city, and it’s you. He’s so busy, he forgets that he isn’t an invincible machine.

In bed, he has been the most loving partner. That never changes. When he has set his mind on something, he finishes it with the utmost care. His performance isn’t your issue, not at all, it’s the fact his performance is centered solely around you that irks you. He puts your pleasure first every night, not allowing himself to come until he’s buried deep inside of you, and even then he holds back. He fucks you into the mattress until you can’t see straight anymore, but only in the way you want him to. 

Every night, he rips countless orgasms from your body, leaving his mark on your skin and inside of you. Sometimes it feels like he sees it as a chore he needs to finish, setting his own needs aside. But not being able to give him back even an ounce of what he is giving you leaves the pleasure with a bitter aftertaste on your tongue. It makes you feel guilty. He’s doing it because he wants to, but Matt doesn’t know how or where to draw the line sometimes. He thinks he wants to do something even though it’s more of a feeling of obligation rather than an actual desire. He has been hurt so many times, you can’t blame him for being who he is, but it’s frustrating when you want to help him out of whatever hole he fell into this time, and he refuses to take your hand. 

So, you need to push him. You need to slap him awake and prove to him that he matters, too. You would never force him to do anything he doesn’t want to do, but he needs a little push from time to time because if you don’t coax him in the right direction, he will run himself dry.   

Matt never asks for what he needs because he can’t allow himself to come first—both in life and in bed—but that selflessness tends to cause more destruction than it does anyone any good, especially him.

He’s back at it again tonight. 

Matt smelled your arousal thick in the air the second he came home from work, his shoulders tense with the stress he had been bottling up for weeks. The scent knocked him right off his feet, your cunt already wet just from the thought of him—of what you are going to do to him—and he instantly started to spiral. 

The soft welcome home kiss you pressed to his lips quickly turned into something more as desperation began to take over, and he once again made it his mission to make you come before he could even take his clothes off.

Tonight though, you won’t let him get so far, no matter how much he tries. And he always tries hard. If Matt Murdock is anything, it is determined. 

You try to break through the haze of pleasure he pulls you under with every stroke of his fingers. It’s like you’re drowning. You’re not in control, but you need to grab a hold of the reins before your plan washes down the drain.

Your body burns brightly as it holds on to that last sliver of self-control. He reads your body like an open book, your curves the Braille he traces with his fingers, and he knows he is doing something right. Your body always betrays you. Your moans, your wetness, and your stiff nipples that are reaching up toward the ceiling are all clear signs that you are enjoying the way he’s touching you, and that spurs him on.

It’s so tough to resist him when he knows exactly how to play your body like a fucking fiddle. He knows how hard to press down on your clit and how fast to move his fingers to get you exactly where he wants you. To make you soak his fingers with your essence so he can lick it off and taste you.

He wants to make you come. He needs to. And him feeling like he needs to is the very thing that makes you snap out of it, finally. 

You grab his wrist. His movements halt instantly, pulling his head away from your neck. “You alright?” he asks. “Did I hurt you?”

The lust in his eyes stems from a need to please. His cock is straining against his slacks, but his shoulders are so tense, you doubt he is enjoying this. Not like you are, at least. For someone who is barely holding on as it is, that must be so exhausting.

“I’m okay,” you whisper. “But you’re not.”

He stiffens. His unfocused eyes move wildly from one side to the other. He tilts his head, listening to your heartbeat, but there is nothing there but pure honesty. 

You know. You always know.

Matt is about to object—pointlessly, may I add—but you push him off of you instead. You flatten your palms against his sturdy chest, urging him to get up. He doesn’t argue, he simply follows. A fog has settled over his senses to the point you consume him.

The puzzled look on his face is replaced by one of surprise when you push him backward rather forcefully toward the chair in the corner of your shared bedroom. 

You take one of the hands flailing helplessly at his side, placing it on your hip. He needs something to hold onto, something to ground him. With the world on fire, every new situation becomes dangerous territory for him, and you don’t want him to stumble into a free fall of overstimulation down a bottomless pit.

Tonight, you want him to use his heightened senses on nothing but you, and for that, he needs to touch you. He needs to know you’re right there and not going anywhere. Only then can he allow himself to lose control. 

“Sweetheart, what’re you–” Matt stumbles over his words, his chest heaving with every labored breath he inhales. 

You place your index fingers against his swollen lips. “Stop.” Your hot cunt hovers dangerously close above his crotch as you straddle him, and he makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat. “Stop focusing on me and let me help you,” you whisper against him. “Please.”

He tastes you in every corner of his mouth when you kiss him. He can feel you in his soul, calloused fingers digging into your hips in an attempt to find something to hold onto to stop himself from falling. But you’re powerful; you’re a dangerous force to reckon with. He can’t say no because the little voice in his head that isn’t wired to self-sabotage his pleasure is calling for him to let go. To let you take over. To let you consume him, swallow him, and never let him go. Matt wants to tie himself to you with the invisible string that has wrapped around his neck like a noose and stay that way, even if it kills him. 

You force his chin up to level his eyes with yours. He can feel your gaze burning holes through his sensitive skin, the scent of burning flesh filling his nostrils but it’s not real. You’re real, and your hands are real, but him burning… that is not real, even when it feels that way.

Before, when you took control, he was still in charge. Secretly. He gave you the reins but he was still pulling from the other side. Because Matt Murdock does not know how to let himself go. Not usually.

When you rode him, he would keep his hands on your thighs as you bounced on his cock. You didn’t mind it. Tonight though, this is far from what you want to happen.

“Tonight I want two things,” you tell him then, nipping at his ear. “Your obedience and your cum. Can you give me that, baby? Can you be good for me and let me take care of you?”

His cue comes in the form of the faintest nod. 

You spend what feels like an eternity riding him, his thick cock buried between your tight, wet walls. Your lips caress his skin with a featherlight touch. The other hand—the one that isn’t busy feeling him stretch you out as you rub your clit with abandon, not wanting him to lift a single finger—roams his chest. You glide your fingers through the sheen of sweat that is glistening on his beautiful, milky skin. You dig your finger into it, and the moan it elicits from him is so delicious. 

He can’t do anything but sit back and take your love. Your punishment. Everything you are willing to give him. You rock back and forth, lifting your hips every so often until only his tip remains inside. It drives him crazy, every inch of him so sensitive from the sheer agony of feeling you around him.

His pulse quickens. You can feel his heart pounding under your hand, his temple pressed against yours as your sweat mingles with the wetness of your cunt and the cum from all the orgasms you have already pulled from him. 

“Please,” he’s begging you, but he isn’t sure what for. 

Matt clings to you, nails dragging over your bare back, lips chasing to catch your nipple. He feels so useless, unable to give you the pleasure he wants because you are so focused on him. So focused on his cock and giving him what he needs. Making him come over and over again, cleaning around him and milking him dry, but never letting up. You turn the pain of overstimulation into pleasure. The world turns quiet under the beating of your heart in his ears, and the scent of you soaking the hairs in his nose to the point he knows he will take you with him to the grave. 

He whimpers. “Please,” again, he pleads and begs. 

You tangle your fingers in his locks, pulling him closer to kiss him. “I know,” you coo. “Just give me one more. Fill me up one more time and I promise, you can make me come as often as you want.”

“You promise?” he chokes out. The soft baritone of his voice wavers, and you dig your teeth into his bottom lip. Copper explodes on your tongue. He moans.  

“I promise,” you repeat. “Come again f’me, baby. I’ve got you.”

He is so spent, but for you, he would steal the stars. All he wants is you. His balls tighten in response to your words, his body chasing yours and the high that threatens to take him under and drown him. You’re every-fucking-where. His hips jerk, but you keep him weighed down right where he is. He’s so painfully hard and full and needy, even though you have tortured him for hours by now. You move once, twice, and even a third time before the wave crashes in. 

You hold him to you, your own body shaking as he fills you up for what feels like the hundredth time. His breath comes in labored spurts, his cum leaking out of you and staining his sturdy thighs with a cocktail of you both. 

His nails move from your back to your ass, anchoring himself to something, anything, to make it through this. His teeth find their way home on your shoulder, biting down just enough to send a thrill of pain straight to your core, and your walls tighten around his overly sensitive cock. He doesn’t let go of you though. His orgasm drags on for an eternity, and he lets it happen. Oh, you’re so proud of him. He hardly ever lets you take care of him like that, fucking him senseless until he can’t think straight anymore—until the world disappears and it’s just the two of you; no responsibilities just sex. 

“That’s it,” you murmur. “Such a good boy. Did so well f’me. I’m so full. Gonna feel you for days.”

Something snaps in his very tired self at your talk. He rolls you off of him. “You promised,” is all he says. 

You blink up at him, tired and satisfied and covered in cum, but oh so proud of the privilege he granted you, seeing him like this and taking care of him. He doesn’t like to be vulnerable unless it’s with you, and even then he is reluctant. He has always been this way, but it would never make you love him any less. 

With a sigh, you spread your legs. “I promised,” you agree. “And you’ve been such a good, good boy. You deserve it.”

His swollen lips travel over your heated skin like dripping wax. The hairs on your body reach toward the ceiling. You gasp, softly, feeling him inch closer to your core, yet taking his time exploring you. Touching you. He’s a man on a mission again, though this time you do not stop him. 

One brush of his lips against your clit, and your back arches toward him. You pull at his hair, falling victim to the force of his silver tongue. In the end, he owns your body, your pleasure, and your orgasms in a way no one could ever live up to, and he always will. 

He is your world, you are his, and if you didn’t have each other, neither of you would no longer have a reason to breathe. 

Matt Murdock (Smut) Tag List: @shouldbestudying41 @theradioactivespidergwen @cheshirecat484 @1988-fiend @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-girl-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @xnatyx @zomtart

[alexiswritingstuff]

Saved by the unexpected.

Pairing: Frank Castle x teen! reader (Gender Neutral)

Other appearances: Micro, aka David Lieberman. 

Summary: Your run to the grocery store goes sideways on the way back home that leads you to being at the wrong place at the wrong time, and with a fresh gunshot wound. Upon waking up you find yourself somewhere unknown with people you had never seen... Or so you thought.

Warnings: gun fights, murder, gun shot wound, mentions of other injuries like cuts and bruises, implied parent loss. 

Be aware of possible spelling mistakes or sentences that are worded wrong. I read over my writing before posting but stuff still manages to slip under my radar!

A/n: Bro I really am bad at creating titles for fics. Anyway, I watched The Punisher a few months ago, and previously finished DareDevil, and I wasn’t able to stop thinking about a certain Mr. Castle. That man in general already activated my daddy issues and then I watched season 2, and... Yeah, that was a lot, but this is what my brain created! 

Like I say whenever I write for new characters, because this is my first attempt, the way portray them and the characteristics may not be a 100% accurate, so bear with me while I find my footing.

Either way, I hope you enjoy reading! 

It was supposed to be a morning like any other. One that started with a bright sky and chirping birds before slowly melding into the warm afternoon. 

You had just done the weekly shop, collecting everyday items, things that would give the most important nutrients, with basically the same amount in snacks and drinks. 

I mean, what else could they mean by a balanced diet?

The main route you would usually take had been closed off by the time you had finished with the store, the road cracked from something unknown, meaning that you had to take a detour. 

It was one that you had walked through many times before, leading you almost directly towards where your trailer was stationed without having to wind round block after block of apartments. 

So, the decision to choose it was simple. 

You took off down the pathway between two very large buildings that almost looked as if they could reach the sky from your angle.

This part was more commonly known as the run down area. The complexes on either side of you were empty. Most had the windows boarded up, due to the lack of repair, and the walls themselves were stained from a plethora of things. 

Some parts even looked about ready to fully crack and crumble. 

It was a lot harder to get funding for these buildings the further they got from the main street. The only people even coming here were probably residents from some that managed to become apartments. But the rest was pretty much just abandoned property.

You had moved under an overhang section created by the walkway above, connecting the two opposing buildings. It honestly sort of felt like a tunnel due to its width, but definitely not by length as you were quickly welcomed by the next area. 

To the left, behind a wall that separated a descending pathway from the ground levelled with your own feet, was a car park. 

The size of it would give the implication that there was a mass of vehicles coming in and out during the week, easy access for people working in the surrounding buildings. 

Though now, it was always empty.

… Or it was supposed to be. 

In the furthest corner was this very specific looking handful of cars; big and black, almost blocky in structure. A sight that should have been acknowledged as the first sign. Your first warning. 

But not fast enough.

Out of nowhere, there was this echo that felt like it drilled through your ear drums. It was a violent sound, one that rung for almost a full minute through the complex to your left. 

It wasn’t something you really questioned off the bat, somehow. I mean, the building was old. 

It could’ve been a loose panel finally deciding to break free from the ceiling, or a cracked wall weighing in on itself. Maybe even someone trying to fix up the damn building.

In fairness, those assumptions weren’t exactly bad... 

They were just the wrong ones. 

The sounds repeated, and whatever it was reverberated from the broken windows in a way that properly allowed it to be heard in its entirety. It was closer this time, more full. “What the...”

It was a series of bassy pops, collectively almost imitating the blast of fireworks, but within the sounds were these clinks like something was falling on the floor right after. 

And though it was a very muffled detail, that took a moment for your brain to register, it didn’t stop the cogs from making their final turn. 

“Oh, shit.” 

Within the same moment that you had made the decision to practically slide to the side, trying not to completely slam into the wall that you ended up behind, the doors of the building burst open with such force that it echoed.

There was a chorus of yelling, even more shots, and heavy boots that practically skidded against the concrete as they moved. Like you had just stumbled across a damn army.

You were sat on the ground, one leg stretched out from your hurried movements while the other was still bent at the knee, ready to move if necessary. The backpack was still strapped around your shoulders meaning that the further you tried to press against the brick wall, the more certain items began to stab into your back.

Your heart was hammering, chest heaving, as you continuously looked up and down the path you sat on. 

It was the only thing you could see. Everything was happening on the other side of the wall, so pretty much all you could do was just sit and listen for the people that might decide to come your way.

You fought the urge to cry out when bullets skimmed the top of the wall, causing little clumps of rubble and dust to hit the top of your head. “Why me, why me, why me!” you hissed through a whisper, trying to ruffle the stuff out of your hair. 

Hurried shouts were passing back and forth across the huge car park like a game of tennis, though it seemed that due to the other sounds that followed, and the panicked state of your mind, all of them were unintelligible. It sounded like they were coming from everywhere.

The multiple objects in your bag had started to make your spine ache so, at the same time as yet another shot, you leaned forward. Quick enough that the sound of items unsquashing themselves would ring at the same time as the bullet. 

You reached back, making sure that your bag wasn’t going to hit any surface, and then took it off one arm at a time before the bag was finally placed in front of you.

Your fingers immediately unzipped it to begin the search. You wanted some kind of weapon, or if not that then at least some form of protection... But you had in fact just gone shopping. 

I doubt a banana would be useful in a gun fight. 

So, you moved onto the pockets that sat on either side of the bag. A huff of air passed through your lips while your hand shuffled through the left pocket. You felt around, following the lining of stitches for at least something, but the most found was a wrapper from some candy or gum. 

So, it was on to the next. 

This time, to do the same routine, was a bit more difficult as this pocket was where you kept your water bottle. A more careful process as you started to comb through the compartment. 

And then, finally, you felt something.

In that moment it was hard to tell what it was. It felt long enough to at least administer some form of damage, or maybe only threaten someone from a distance, so your stressed mind just chose it. You began pulling your hand out. 

But, despite what you wanted, it wasn’t going to be that easy. 

Right as the item had been tugged vertically, an attempt to make it easier to pull it out, the movement had caused the bone of your wrist to hit into the bottle.

Ordinarily, it was something that you wouldn’t think twice about. You were just trying to get an item out of a pocket, surely you could do that without something bad happening... 

However, half of whatever you were trying to grab had been stuck under the bottle in a way that already had it tilting. And then the impact landed. Your wrist hit near the top of the bottle and that was all it needed. 

It started to tip out of the pocket. 

A sharp breath sucked into your lungs at the feeling, but with no ability to catch it in time, the metal cylinder simply fell to the floor from a very unfortunate height for you. 

In fact, even after the sound echoed in a way that most definitely had already blown your cover, the world seemed to have other plans for you as after yet another bounce and a few more smaller ones, it was starting to roll. 

You leaned to the side as fast as you could, reaching your arm out to its full extent with your hand wide open. But it was like trying to catch a fly, and soon, it just rolled right passed your fingers, moving even faster the more the water sloshed inside of it. 

The only thing you could do was watch in utter horror as the bottle travelled right passed the edge of a wall for the whole world to see. 

And eventually, about halfway through the path, it ran into a rock or a crack in the ground. The bottle bounced about one more time before it finally stalled. Though, at this point it didn’t really matter. 

The shots had placated a bit, the only ones being fired sounding farther away, as murmurs of confusion had dispersed through men on the other side of the wall. 

“What was that?

“Did you hear that?

“Where did that come from?” 

Your eyes squeezed shut, teeth biting into the skin of your bottom lip as your body just purely froze no matter how much your brain was telling you to make a run for it. 

“Okay, okay, all of you keep moving! Spread out more while I check it out. We’re not alone out here!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Okay, sir!”

However many people were on the other side of the wall scattered within the next beat of your heart. More shots and shouts began to ring out with the same loudness, now joined by the heavy smacking of boots as they moved further away...

But a pair of footsteps still remained. 

Now, your heart was purely thumping in your ears. It was by far the most prominent thing you could hear in that moment, though the sound of those harsh shoes kicking up stones without care was an active competitor. 

Especially when they started getting louder. 

Your eyes flicked to the open backpack in front of you, an ache beginning to pulse through your forehead while you stared at the contents. 

There was this sort of desperation, and almost disappointment, that built in your system at the thought of losing the freshly bought items. Though, what was the point in trying to save the food if you wouldn’t be alive to eat it. 

Within the next second, and after a very deep breath, you propped your hands firmly against the path below on either side of your body. You pushed your strength into the unstretched leg until it was folded under you. 

By now you looked like some kind of runner getting ready to do race, and honestly it was pretty much how you felt. The thought was the only thing suppressing the panic active in your chest, so you indulged.

There was this internal count down as you moved your other leg behind, even if there wasn’t that much space to do so. And then the timer went off. 

You were about to push yourself onto your feet. About to get up, adopt a sort of hunched over posture so that no part of your body could peak over the wall, and run like hell.

But again. It wasn’t going to be that easy.

A movement was caught from the corner of your eye. 

You had barely even started carrying out your wanted movements when a man suddenly appeared right round the corner of the wall, slow and intense. 

He was pretty decked out from what your panicked mind could comprehend. There were a multitude of weapons that clung to his belt, and he was in fact holding this massive gun. 

Initially, his focus was on your bottle. The barrel of the gun was pointed directly at the object of confusion, as it didn’t really look like the standard water bottle from afar, his finger hovering over the trigger. Ready to fire at any moment. 

At this point you had resumed this sort of weird crouched position, stuck between wanting to stand up and staying frozen to the ground as if you could just meld into it. 

Either way, it was the kind of stance that didn’t provide a sense of balance. And soon, despite how much the dread utterly pooled at the bottom of your stomach like it did on a rollercoaster, you fell. Right on your ass.

The gun, that you had pretty much only seen in movies or on the news, was pointed right in your direction before you could even blink. 

You attempted to crawl backwards, winding round your backpack, eyes wide and fully open as they trained on the man who in turn had started to follow your movements. And then you stopped, knowing full and well what was coming even if you got to your feet. 

Your breathing was erratic, arms moving stiff and slow as you raised them above your head with your palms open, facing the man who made no implications that he was going to put that gun down. 

“Listen,” You gulped, “I didn’t see anything, I swear-- Look, there. My bag is there-- Take it. Take anything.” 

“Anything you want.” 

It was no use. No matter what way the words tumbled from your mouth, that finger never tried to move away from that trigger. 

You closed your eyes, feeling the way your body heaved with every breath, the way your hands shook. Your ears listened out for the wind, the wildlife that had most definitely moved on from here already, or just something that wasn’t from guns. 

But then a shot rung out. Right in front of you.

It was an indistinctive reaction when your body jolted at the sound as it echoed through the large area and pinged within the windows of the abandoned buildings. You had almost fallen, your arms springing down even if you thought there was no time to protect...

You could still move?

Your eyes snapped open, the ability to take in full breaths yet to come, and you looked down at yourself. You tried to scan across what you could see of your body, that was somehow still alive, and leant on a hand to further support yourself. 

However, just as your brain attempted to register a lack of a gunshot wound, the sound of something hitting the ground stopped your investigation. 

Your head sort of bobbed for a moment, the want to continue your search fierce in your veins, before your gaze finally tore away.

The man before you had tumbled to his knees. His hands were moving around for a few seconds, desperately trying to grab a part of his chest as if in disbelief of what just happened. 

And then another shot fired. 

Like before, your body had jolted in response, still having no idea which gun it was coming from. 

However, when a particular part of you scrunched, the shock in your system decided to completely drain, your pain receptors activated in a way that you weren’t at all ready for. 

It was hard to pin point exactly where the feeling had originated as it spread like a wildfire, but it was intense enough that the arm you were leant against almost buckled within seconds. 

Sharp burning. A sensation that made it feel like you had been bitten by thousands of fire ants over and over again. 

Or, when you finally managed to get yourself to look down again, it was because you had in fact gotten shot. “Oh...”

He got you.

“Oh, shit.”

There was this hurried voice that bounced through the walls. Your head attempted to snap up like it had previously done, but this time it was just unsteady. Almost like it was moving in points.  

By the next blink, that practically didn’t even feel like one, another man had made his way round the corner. He also had a gun raised... but, it seemed different.

His general stance, the way he carried the weapon, the expression on his face even if you could only see half of it. It was clear that he had a lot more experience than the last guy. 

They weren’t from the same group. 

The man lowered himself onto one knee beside the body, head still raised cautiously to make sure to keep full awareness of his surroundings while he searched over any pockets he could see. 

And then he stilled. 

You didn’t have to move, or even make a sound, for this guy to spot you.

Within about a millisecond the man had the gun right back in his hands in a way that had you immediately raising your own despite the pins and needles that ached through your muscles.

The world around you was starting to spin, making it more difficult to pay attention to the mans movements. “Don’t... Don’t kill.” Your lips were heavy, the ability to even part them becoming some kind of workout. 

And then, like someone just flicked a switch, it was like all the strength and power in your body decided to dissipate at once. 

For the second time now, you fell. Though, in this instance, it was your back that collided with ground in a way that had your head smacking into the concrete path right afterwards. 

Every inch of your skin felt hot, yet cold at the same time. You were trying to move, wanting nothing more than to get back up and go home. Just curl up in bed and forget this ever happened.

But the ability to even budge a limb had faded from your brain until you couldn’t even feel if your arms were lifted in the air or not.

So, you just laid there, eyes staring blankly up at the sky while your eyelids acted like they had forgotten their main function. “Hey!” 

And right before you gave into that nagging want for them to close, something blocked whatever view you had left, “Kid? Hey, kid, are you... Oh, no-- Kid, can you hear me?” 

You could feel hands on your arms, and soon, one had pressed onto the wound in a way that urged a gurgling sound from your throat. 

“Kid!”

~~~

It took your brain a significant amount of time to realise that you had awoken when the time eventually came. 

The sensations within your body were either mild or piercingly intense. There was no in between. 

Every muscle in your face was rigid, aching in a way that made the want to move diminish within seconds. You were trying to blink, your eyelids remaining heavy and ignorant no matter how many attempts were made. 

It hurt to breathe. Any movement within your torso would stretch the skin closest to your armpit and immediately sent a crackle of fire spreading through it like a shock of electricity. 

Your muscles flinched, almost spasming, as you slowly reached back, trying to grip onto some part of whatever lay beneath you so that you could push yourself up.

There was no attention aimed at any sound that spilt through your lips and it was only when a harsh pain erupted, engulfing your shoulder, that you had realised how loudly a sort of strained yelp had burst from your throat. 

You fell back onto the pillow, the agony in your body burning so hot that it had you light headed.

If it wasn’t for your current state the sudden echo of quick footsteps would’ve registered a lot faster through your ears, and in your mind. 

There was words passing across the air, some may have been aimed at you for a response, but this was the first time you had fully managed to open your eyes since you had actually woken up.

Your head slowly turned as voices continued to echo, muffled no matter how many times it rung in your ears, until your right cheek met with the pillowcase. Your eyes cast through a metal wall, more so the frame of one, which looked as if it previously had some sort of murky glass within.

The place was massive. 

This dim lightly spread throughout most sections as the source above couldn’t reflect on any surface due to the fact that everything around was either a form of black or a gloomy grey. The lights themselves were also the kind of ones that aimed straight down, meaning that it would only cover what was directly beneath. 

“Hey.”

In the centre of the main area was this sort of ring. There was a walkway that cut through the middle so that people could get from one side to the other, and on either side were desks that followed the rim, a plethora of monitors and electronic devices cluttering the surface. 

Some you hadn’t even seen before.

“Hey, uh, kid?”

Your head snapped back into its previous position in a speed that felt like it shook your brain. You squeezes your eyes shut for a good minute before they opened again. 

And after blinking a few times, your vision came back into focus. 

There was this dude stood to your side. He was tall, slim in width with curled mid length hair and a beard that wasn’t connected to the moustache covering his lip.

“Oh, yeah-- Must be pretty disorienting to wake up in a place like this.” The way he sounded matched almost exactly like you had guessed. It was nice. Not harsh and not too soft. 

He held your gaze in such a way that made it seem as if he could see right through you, even taking a slight step back when he noticed how wide and cautious your eyes were set on him, “It might take some time for you to believe us, but I assure you that we don’t want to harm you. You’re all good... Well, I mean, apart-- apart from your injuries.”

“Generally, you’re good-- Or like... Yeah.” 

Your hand lifted from where it had previously flopped and you reached it to your left shoulder, slow and steady. 

Your fingers travelled lower, gliding across the exposed skin before it reached the edge of tank top arm slot. Your movements halted in the space between the end of your shoulder bone and the beginning of your chest. 

Finally, you realised where the source of pain was coming from.

Somehow, the shot taken at you had landed right above your first rib. And from the uncomfortable feeling, constantly there, from what you were guessing was another bandage on your back. It had gone all the way through. 

The dude that had been previously talking cleared his throat after a moment. He was sort of shifting the weight back and forth from one foot to another, unsure of what to do or say which then ended up with him looking away. 

Your attention landed back on him, your arm happily moving back to lay by your side. Though, your eyebrows then furrowed, realising that the guys eyes had settled on something, and it even looked like he was asking a question.

So, after allowing yourself to give into your curiosity, you followed the direction he was looking in. 

You almost jumped out of your skin.

There, leaning against the thing you could barely call a wall, to your right was a guy stood perfectly still with his arms tight across his chest. 

It was that man from earlier. The one that found you. Saved you?

His eyes were already on your own which left the questioning gaze from the other dude unanswered. At first the muscles in his face were visibly tense, crinkled eyebrows, slightly narrowed gaze, jaw clenched tightly. 

And then you looked at him. 

In an instant it was like everything taking over his features eased. He raised his head a single time before it lowered back to where it was usually held. A greeting. 

“I’ll bet your hungry, huh?”

Your attention snapped back to the other dude once again to find that there was this gentle smile pressing into his lips once your eyes met his. 

The question circled round your mind for a good few seconds before it fully processed. It had you thinking, a silence falling within the little room while the hum of electricity barely caught your ears. 

In all honesty hunger had been the last thing on your mind. To solve the sudden mystery was even more difficult since you couldn’t even remember the last thing that passed through your body, other than a bullet. 

Though, right before you could even try to figure out the wanted response was to be, it seemed like your stomach decided to do it for you as it suddenly rumbled through the quiet. 

It may have not exactly sounded like some kind of missile, but considering the building was very echoey and your lack of answer had created a pause within the people stood in the room, it was louder than any other sound at that moment. You were horrified.

The man with his arms crossed dared to huff a quiet laugh through his nose and before you could even send him a look, or give any sort of reaction for that matter, the other guy took a step back with this expression on his face.

He was practically beaming as he clasped his hands together, “Good answer.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed once again, gaze now following the man as he moved round of what you now realised was a cot underneath you and out through the doorway a moment later.

You were going to attempt to continue watching him, wanting to know where he was walking despite the context clues, but after trying to look through the empty frames in the wall, the figure of the quiet dude blocked your view.

And for the first times since your initial meeting, if you could even call it that, your eyes properly took him in. 

Regardless of the position of his spine from the leaned pose, his posture was sharp. Straight like he had to practice it many times. He was tall too, though a little shorter than the other guy. 

The hair on his head looked like it was just growing out from being shaved, the sides a lot shorter than the top. It looked like a marine cut. 

Admittedly, he could’ve done his hair that way cause he simply wanted to. But you saw him earlier. 

He knew the ins and outs, every little detail, of the gun he held strong in his arms. You saw his stance, one that could more commonly only be from having to do it 24/7. 

And where was the most known place where you had to stand at attention almost every day?

Any item of clothing that covered his body was full black, including the shoes and his belt, which was a drastic contrast to any skin that was exposed. It also meant that you could spot any cut or bruise he had very easily. 

There was a good few on his face. Some had become scabs already, looking like they had been there for some time, while others almost looked fresh. The most noticeable appeared like it followed his cheekbone. 

Your eyes immediately snapped away upon realised that you had been looking at him for so long that he had in fact noticed it. I mean, there wasn’t really anything else to occupy his mind. 

You tried to shift your body against the cot, a mixture of wanting to distract yourself and a test to see how much you could move without it hurting. 

But either way, it was hard to do anything without being able to properly use a side of your body.

So, ultimately, you were stuck. Trapped under a blanket which forced you to lay flat on your back, against something that you wished had the same feeling as your bed, while sounds started to echo from what you were guessing was the kitchen. 

“Hey, kid.”

The voice that hit your ears was a lot gruffer than expected, gravelly enough that it almost sounded like it was hurting his throat. The way the words passed through his lips were clear, but also hushed as if he was trying not to be loud for an unknown benefit. “What were you doing out there, hmm?” 

With his stance, you half expected that whatever he wanted to say was going to come out harsh. That he was going to yell and tell you off for something. But he didn’t. He was... actually concerned?

“It’s a decent walk from the store you went to.” he then added on, and now that seemed to get your attention. 

Your head rolled to the side, narrowed gaze finding him with a newfound cautiousness. 

The man in turn must’ve realised the suspicion his wording caused, so he simply gestured to the side with his head, “I got your bag.”

Sure enough, as you moved your lower against the pillow, it was in fact there. The first familiar thing you had seen all day was sat on the ground beside the guy. It may have had some slight rips, some of the material had even been scuffed enough that it was visible. 

But it was there. Zipped up and everything.

Your favourite backpack.

Despite your distance, the bag looked plump with some of the contents clearly poking against the sides of it. All of the items were still in it. Hell, even the water bottle was back in the same side pocket you always put it in.

“We couldn’t find your name in the system,” the man spoke again, and honestly you had forgotten that he was there regardless of the fact that he stood next to where you eyes were aimed. “Did your parents know where you were?”

You looked at him within seconds of the question catching your ears and that dread from earlier began to pool at the bottom of your stomach all over again. 

I mean, you should’ve expected the question at some point.

It was common for you to forget that other people could look at you and see a child, ask the whole ‘where are you parents’ when you had to buy stuff that apparently didn’t seem normal for a child to get, even if it was just household items. 

You will never forget the time you tried to buy scissors. 

But the question still stung. It would make all of the memories of countless things flood right back until it was fresh in your mind, creating a wave of nostalgia that you hated at this point. 

Your head slowly rolled back to its previous position, your gaze now cast up at the rotting, grey ceiling while a deep breath seeped through your nose. Your body practically deflated when it went back out. 

Like before, you didn’t need to say anything for the guy to understand the situation.

Obviously, from your position, you couldn’t clearly see him as anything more than a blurred blob from the corner of your eye, but he had sort of loosened his crossed arms. Was the look of loss that clear on you?

How could he even notice it that quick?

Your body almost jolted when he cleared his throat and pain shot through your shoulder that had you biting back a grunt.

“Listen, we’re not-- We’re not going to hurt you... all right?” His tone was different this time. Lighter in a way that reduced the grumble of his voice, even if it didn’t sound unpleasant. “You’ve been here for a few days so that the, uh, big guy could fix up your shoulder.”

“That’s all.”

From the feeling of his gaze aimed in your direction, you could tell that he was doing what you had done, except he was more so trying to analyse your movement no matter how miniscule. 

It made you nervous enough that your mind was trying to zone in on the sounds coming from the kitchen, fiddling with the fabric of the blanket. But that just meant that a silence had started to layer. 

“Can you speak?”

Your body stiffened within a matter of seconds. 

At this point there was no reason for you to remain quiet. It was unclear as to why it had even been done in the first place. Was it to conceal your voice? Hide your identity? 

Even then, they had already ready seen your face and might possibly have looked through your backpack. The things they’ve could’ve known about you were unknown.

Maybe it was that thing you were told as a kid that kept you holding your tongue. You know, the whole stranger danger thing? Do not interact with people that you don’t know unless absolutely necessary. 

People seemed to get stuck on specific moments in the past regardless of it directly links to a moment of stress, or trauma, if you remembered correctly what that article said. Maybe that was your thing?

Your contemplative eyes flickered over the ceiling above for another moment before they finally made the decision to move, and so did your head. Once again, it rolled to the side until your right cheek touched the pillow.

You met his eyes. His gaze anything but harsh no matter how long a silence remained.

This guys wasn’t strange. 

I mean, the concept of waking up in some massive building that you didn’t recognise with two other dudes that you had never met before was in fact a little, sure.

But there was no reason given beyond that as to why you should fear either of them. Be scared of them. 

After all the dude talking to you had in fact saved your life.

You sniffed, that same feeling of nervousness making a comeback the longer the eye contact was held. It had you needing to look away for a few seconds before your eyes went right back. You stiffly nodded your head. 

The man straightened his back against the metal, his spine probably tired of the frame digging into it. His gaze sort of narrowed for a moment. Maybe a few questions sprung into his mind? Maybe he was judging you, or needed to sneeze? Who knows.

“You just won’t.” He nodded his head once, the look in his eyes switching to something unreadable as he got the message despite the lack of words, “That’s... No. No, I get it.”

“Well, I’m Frank. Uh,” he began, dragging out the last sound for a little bit as he tried to locate something through the wall behind you, “Dude in the kitchens name is David. I usually call him Lieberman, that’s... It’s his last name-- He’s the big guy I was talking about. Dude who fixed up your arm.”

“I tried to help too, but, uh... Not exactly my field of expertise.” 

You were about to figure out some kind of gesture to make in response so that you wouldn’t leave him hanging again. And had even started to move your arm. 

But then that name cycled through your head once more. 

Frank... Castle. 

Frank Castle.

It seemed that the cogs had made their final turn once again. His face found their link to certain memories in your mind.

Holy shit. 

He was the guy on the news a while back. The dude had been deemed a vigilante as he had been running around and killing bad people-- Well, it was practically only you and a few other people that thought they were the bad guys.

Either way, after that trial thing, the man that was currently stood to the side of you had supposedly died. Killed in an explosion on some kind of boat, if you remembered correctly.

I mean, it could be that you were the one who died and this was just what came after. And honestly if you were still as delirious as you were before it might have been believable, but that pulsing burning in your shoulder said otherwise. 

So, it was true. He really was here in the flesh, and all in one piece. 

Frank Castle was alive. 

Your expression, and maybe how intensely you had been staring at him, must’ve given away your thought pattern as he sort of tilted his head when he noticed the shift in your eyes, “You know me?” This time your gaze remained unfleeting in the line of attention. 

Frank didn’t seem at all worried about the realisation of his identity. In fact the only change in his expression was done to display his curiosity to the new information. 

Sure, worst comes to worst, he has the upper hand at this moment and it would probably be the same at any other. He could do whatever he needs to do to make sure that you wouldn’t blab before you blinked even once. 

But from his worn out state, and the way he interacted with you, it was visible that he wasn’t going to do that. He must’ve been fighting for quite some time before he had stumbled upon you. 

Why the hell was he even there? Out in the open in a place like that?

Who were those other guys?

Regardless of the want to let your mind flow down that rabbit hole, you were fronted with your previous realisation as your eyes actually focused on Frank again.

You were right. Frank  Castle wasn’t the bad guy.

Without paying attention to it, there seemed to be this smile that began to curl at the corners of your mouth. You moved your head began to move back to its your previous position, your eyes wanting to find the discoloured ceiling to zone out on in a way that further made you forget about your pain--

Shoes suddenly scuffed against the hard ground in a way that stilled all over your movements. Your gaze flickered to whatever had joined you in the room as apparently you had missed the approaching footstep.

It was David, the height difference between the two guys now a lot clearer as he had stopped beside the man whose arms were yet to uncross. “Can you hold this for a second?” Until now. 

Frank sort of looked at the man for a moment, eyebrows furrowed again before he complied to the request. And the moment the plate had been taken into his hands, David moved as if on autopilot. “All right,”

He wound round the foot of your cot, taking back the same position he stood in when you woke up, “Gonna need to sit up so you can actually digest this shit.”

He felt a little bad when he saw the look on your face, though he remained still while you prepared yourself, starting to fidget with his hands. He didn’t want to touch you without permission, but it appeared that your eyes were already closed.

You slowly but surely moved the arm of your injured shoulder to sling across your torso, hoping the position would stop it from moving about too much. And then you braced yourself, awaiting whatever sensations were about to come. 

By the time a hand had been placed on your body, your teeth were already gritted. One was placed on your back, a way to properly bring guide you into the needed position, while the other gently cupped the back of your head so that everything would move in unison. 

“Deep breath.”

The pain was immediate. It was such a thing that purely seared up a side of your body. Engulfed everything in its path.

It was impossible to see from your closed eyes, but there was a reaction from the man stood to the side when a slight whine escaped your throat. He had stepped forward, looking as if he was about to reach out if he didn’t have something in one of his hands. 

It was thoughtless. A movement that he had undone the moment he had realised by pressing back against the wall. But it happened nonetheless. 

David was muttering stuff of assurance, many forms of sentences letting lose into the air. You couldn’t hear it. Couldn’t catch onto a singular word. 

All you could think about was the pain. How stupid it was that you made the decision to take that route. How you didn’t run back the way you came after that first shot. Or how you didn’t even end up trying run until it was too late. 

Your legs bent at the knees the more your torso raised, as if trying to protect it of something, which slightly kicked up your blanket and made the heels of your feet dig into the cot below. “There you go, there you go!”

It was like a ripping of a band aid. 

At first, it was the stage of holding onto the edge, trying to hype yourself to get it over and done with. And then it was off. It may give a twinge of pain that lingered more than wanted, but overall the act had been complete.

“Right on, that’s you done.”

And so had yours. 

The biggest breath of relief huffed out of your mouth in a way that had David wanting to lightly pat your back, but it could accidently hurt you. So, instead, he resorted to turning his attention Frank, hurriedly gesturing towards the thing he held.

The man in question seemed to shake his head as if trying stifle his amusement, though he took a step forward to hand over the plate either way.

And then, by the next time you had blinked, it was held out in your direction. You just looked at it for a moment. 

It was a sandwich. One that may have been made with the most simple ingredients, and was probably the exact replica of what you would picture in your head upon hearing the name, but for some reason your whole body yearned for it. 

The plate was in your hands within seconds.

David took a step back, a slight smile reappearing on his lips at the progress. He gestured to the plate you held in the same position and then towards your mouth, seeming like he couldn’t get himself to stand still, “Eat up.”

You were. 

Oh, a thousand percent, you were getting ready to chow down on something, since the last time solid food had been eaten was probably the day you had gotten shot. And even then, you had no clue as to when that was.

However, right as you were about to bring the plate onto your lap, grab onto the sandwich and consume it with the upmost excitement... You paused. Stopped right in your tracks. Eating by yourself felt a little weird.

You looked back at David. 

It took him a moment to realise that your eyes were on him again. But when he did, he sort of rocked on his feet. His eyebrows furrowed as he sent a look towards Frank, “What, um... Is it-- Is it bad, or something?”

There was a mixture of confusion and almost offence tugging at certain features and it had your head shaking immediately.

Within the next minute, it was almost like a game of charades as you attempted to relay the words in your mind. 

The plate remained in the hand it did before. You bent your left arm at the elbow, trying to avoid any movement that would attack the area surrounding your wound, and you gestured. 

The first time you pointed your index finger at him and then at the plate, but he merely blinked. So, you then did it in reverse, directing the line of attention to the plate and then him. 

Frank even seemed confused as he watched with narrowed eyes, apparently unable to deduced the situation himself which still left David with nothing. “Kid, I don’t... I can’t understand what you’re trying to say, are you-- are you allergic to something?” 

“Are you asking me what’s in it? If I made it, what--”

Biting back the biggest sigh of your life, and in the fastest way that you could in that moment, you restored to just holding out the whole plate towards him. Even repeated the previous gesture one final time to make your point. 

“Oh,” David dragged out the sound as he began to nod. Finally, he understood, “Yeah, man, I’m boutta make my own.”

He remained for only a moment more, watching as your plate slowly lowered to your lap so that it wouldn’t drop. And then he started walking again, moving back around the edge of the cot before making his way through the doorway.

Franks eyes were already on your own by the time your head turned in his direction, as if he expected it to happen. 

This time without accompanying the movement with gestures, you simply held out the plated food towards him. Franks head shook instantly, he even waved a hand, “It’s for you, kid. Need to get that strength back.” 

His eyes directed towards the kitchen almost immediately after. He was either counting on David possibly making him one or waiting for him to leave the kitchen so that he could do it himself.

Thing is though, he only gave you a reason as to why you should keep the sandwich held for yourself.

He didn’t say no. 

The plate was brought back to your legs, flat against your thighs, and then you began looking around. Your eyes scanned across any close surface for something that could be used as a cloth, something to wipe your hands with, but there was no luck. 

You resorted to just scrubbing your palms, and more importantly your finger tips, against the cleanest clothing you had under the blanket. And then you grabbed the sandwich. 

Despite what Frank thought was going to happen by the time his attention was once again redirected towards you, when the sandwich was held horizontally in your grasp, instead of bring it to your mouth and taking a bite. You began... pulling at it each side? 

It started to rip.

“What are you doing?” he questioned pretty much immediately, his face and voice both riddle with confusion. And maybe even a little disturbance. But that didn’t stop your movements at all. 

In fact the only time you had stopped was when the entire thing had been torn through the middle, completely halved. However, even after that, you reached for one of the parts. You took it from the plate, stuffing it into the hand of your unmoving arm.

And then you held out the plate all over again to the man with very furrowed eyebrows. 

He just looked at the poorly halved sandwich for a moment, a part of it being more of the contents that the bread, and then his eyes found yours. There was an unreadable expression within them.

When he still didn’t take it, and due to the fact that your arm was starting to get tired, you redid your act of holding it out towards him. 

And this time he couldn’t withhold a response. 

Frank scoffed, shaking his head in the same amusement from earlier while he stared at the plate calling his name, “You’re very persistent, aren’t ya.” 

Despite his point still standing, the consistent want for you to get the nutrients needed to fully recover, it was like he couldn’t say no to you. At least to your face. So. Frank took the plate.

The next few minutes were spent by the two of you choosing the perfect side of the sandwich and then going to town, chowing down on it like it was the first one either of you had ever had. 

And man, that David could sure make a meal, even if it was just slapping ingredients between slices of bread.

“Damn!”

Seemed like someone else agreed with you.

“So, this is what you’ve been doing all this time, huh, Lieberman? Cookin’” Franks words were incredibly muffled despite his constant chewing, but either way the sound still echoed. A laugh soon followed while something poured, “What else would I do, man? Wasn’t just gonna do nothing.”

“Well, you can add cooking to your... I don’t know, list of talents or something.” Every time that man spoke, his head lowered right back down so that he could see the plate, taking another massive bite that you were just waiting for him to start choke on.

“Why did you... Why did you say it like that?” David's voice was more monotonous than usual, either playing fake offence or he was too preoccupied with arranging the order of his sandwich ingredients. 

You took another bite, a piece of lettuce almost falling onto the blanket without you knowing. Frank turned towards the kitchen again, speaking midway through putting a part of the sandwich in his mouth, “Like what?” A plethora of crumbs fell onto the plate in a way that made your nose crinkle.

“Like... Are you lying to me? Lying isn’t very nice, Frank.” 

“Nah, come on, man, I wouldn’t-- I wouldn’t say that If I didn’t mean it, you know that-- You could put these in a-- a--  a sandwich shop--”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, okay,” David practically grumbled at this point, placing down what sounded like a butter knife on the counter before he sniffed, “That at least mean that our little friend likes it too?”

Frank turned to you, placing the little chunk of sandwich he had left onto his plate before he rubbed the fingers that touched it together. 

You swallowed down your bites, the act proving to be a little harder to from the lack of eating solid food, and noted the fact that he was awaiting some form of answer to relay to David. 

Your sandwich was finished by now. It wasn’t a contest but it was almost wild how fast it had been consumed. And now you sat there, wiping your hand against your trousers while attempting to get any food stuck between your teeth. 

And then you cleared your throat, your nose scrunching for a second when the action ended up shaking your chest a little too much, “Y/n.”

Frank had turned his towards the kitchen moments prior. He had parted his lips, even slightly leaned back against the wall to get a proper view of the man awaiting an answer through the empty frames. 

Now his head snapped in your direction, eyebrows raising more than you had even seen, “What was that?”

You may have made the ultimate decision to use your voice in the first place, however, having that gaze of his on you once again caused this overwhelming feeling to surge through your body. 

Your spine had straightened, this time managing to ignore the shock of pain that hit your system, while your eyes widened just a smidge.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

The echo of David's voice had caused you to turn to where he stood in the kitchen, still busied with making another one of his masterpieces. It was something done half out of anxiousness and just wanting to distract yourself.

And then it made you think.

Surrounding you was this big, more empty than full, abandoned building. The only other people there was Frank, a man who was supposed to be dead, and David... who you presumed was also most likely to be the same due to their team up. 

If they were going to kill you, or hurt you, they would have done so already. 

But even then, when you woke up this morning you hadn’t been restrained or anything. There was nothing keeping you there other than the fact that they wanted to treat your wounds. 

A deep breath filtered through your nose as your eyes slowly met with Franks again. 

His expression was practically the same as it was before you had looked away, giving you a patience no one ever had. The gaze he held was warm. Encouraging. 

Thus, you swallowed once again.

“My... name.” Your voice was hoarse from waking up not that long ago, but also from it’s lack of use. There was always this feeling in your throat as if something was stuck in it, and you coughed, the urge to squeeze your eyes shut presenting itself yet again when it shifted your shoulder.

But you composed yourself, sucking in another breath and rubbing your hands against your legs while David was still left with no answer, “It’s Y/n.”

Franks head had already been nodding before you had finished saying your set of words. He pursed his lips, finally swallowing down the bite he had previously taken.

Frank sniffed, turning his head towards the kitchen yet again. Though this time it seemed like he did so to conceal the change of his facial expression more than to get David's attention. “You hear that, Lieberman?”

Regardless of his attempts to hide his reaction, the smile was clear on his lips. Such a one that it had even reached the skin around his eyes as they started to crinkle.

He looked back at you. There was this emotion on his face that remained unchanging. It seemed like a fondness, but at the same time he almost looked... proud?

“Y/n likes it.”

[skyfallslayer]

The Darkness In Me || Story 3: Kingpin & Daredevil

-Kingpin!Matt Murdock x Vigilante!Reader-

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

🖤 Series Summary: You were shocked to find out your childhood friend turned out to be the Kingpin of the underworld, but you had to put those thoughts aside to bring him down. You were Hell’s Kitchen vigilante, its protector. There's no valid reason not to stop him. However, when your hidden feelings for him start to surface once more, how will you be able to even think about bringing him down?

🖤 Story Summary: Your night trying to save a kid takes a dangerous turn. Now fighting to stay alive after a possible life threatening injury, you soon find yourself face-to-face with the man that runs this city’s underworld: The Kingpin. Aka… your childhood friend.

🖤 Date: 12/06/23

🖤 Rating: Mature

🖤 Word Count: 12, 842 (Damn o-0)

🖤 Warning: Blood; Gore; Talks of Child Abuse; Child Death(s); Child Manipulation; Mental Break; Murdering and Allusion to Murder; Non Consensual Touching(?) Looks like it but its not); Seductive Talk; Implied Seductive Manipulation; Slight Karedevil; Implied Frank/Karen: Past Killing of a Love One; Talks of Betrayal; Death of a Love One; Dark!Matt; Yeah, Matt gets a fucking warning in this one (I mean, he ain't the Kingpin for nothing); Russian & Japanese Via Google Translate (not super accurate, I apologize). READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

-Let me know if I missed anything-

🖤 A/N: Oh boy, this was tough but fun to write! Hopefully nothing is too overwhelming for y'all. Alrighty then… we're finally getting to Matt's POV of things, which I honestly think I enjoyed writing more than reader's (*le gasp*). But yeah, here's a bit of the flirty and charming Matt Murdock we all know and love with a dash of darkness. Enjoy!

There’s no fucking way this was real. Was the first thing you thought. Maybe it was the next one. Or the next one, or– Oh, geez. You really didn’t know what to think. 

Here you are thinking the whole time that he’s the same as you; That despite your rough childhoods, you both managed to put the nightmares aside and build the life you guys wanted. You both had your hopes and dreams, you both got the jobs you desired, you both made a friend that had your back. But now…

You don’t know when or where or how this even happened. You don’t know why he’s on this route. You don’t know why you just watched him kill a man for screwing up his ‘responsibility’. You don’t even know what to think of this situation, what to think of…

Him.

Matthew Murdock, Your childhood friend; The person you were starting to feel more for. The person that was none other than–

.

.

.

The King of Darkness himself.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| Four Days Ago || 

The doors slammed simultaneously, the both of you sighing as you laid back in the chair as your partner, Frank, rests his forehead against the steering wheel before lightly tapping it a few times. Your mornings had started off with a call of distress from an elderly man claiming that he had been robbed. Turns out, the poor man just had dementia. So after a talk with his son who stepped out to run an errand, they ended up back her with slight annoyance. 

Frank sighs again, finally bringing his head up. “I know he has health problems, but still… you think your stuff’s gone and you call 911?” 

“Yeah…” You rub your eyes, dark circles dusting them. “This is going to be a long day.”

“Of course it will be.” He starts the car, sitting up straighter. “Breakfast?”

“Please.” Like you could turn that down after not eating anything for a few hours straight.

He pulls away from the curb, driving in the direction of a local diner that he’s mentioned a few times. “So, Y/N… how are you adjusting to the move?” He said at his attempt at small talk (he didn’t speak much if he didn’t need to, you noticed, so I guess you could say this was a good sign).

“Me? I’m actually doing pretty good. I know how Hell’s Kitchen ticks so–” You shrugged. “Except for when some of the places I’ve been to have disappeared, I didn’t really need to adjust to anything.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You’ve been to Hell’s Kitchen before?”

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Oh, shit. I guess I didn’t tell you. I was born here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I lived here till I was eight.”

“Damn. So it’s been awhile.”

“Yep.”

“What made you move away in the first place?” Frank asked, making you pale. But he didn’t seem to notice since his eyes were on the road. “Y/N?”

“Uh, well…” You frown thinking about that day. You sigh, trying not to play with your hands like you were a kid. “My parents passed. Car accident, uh– Truck ran a red light and hit up straight on.”

“Oh, my god.” He begins, and you hold your hand up.

“Before you apologize for asking, don’t. You didn’t know.” 

“Yeah, but still.” He frowns worriedly. “You were… eight? That’s rough.”

“It was, but I had to accept it pretty quickly when I moved to California with my Aunt and Uncle.” You explain, feeling your heart clench at one of the names.

“Quickly?”

“My Aunt wasn’t the nicest woman.”

Frank scoffed, but not at you, but at everything else. “I got to hand it to you, Y/N, you turned out pretty well. To me, your story sounds like the makings of a villain’s origin.”

You chuckled. “So I’m not the only one to have that thought.” You reply, half joking as the car pulled into an open spot.

“I mean it though.” Frank says, turning the engine off. “You’re strong. Stronger than you think. I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost my family like that.” He opens his door. “Alright. Enough depressing shit. Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

You snort. “What? Did you not eat before your shift last night?” 

“You think I know how to cook?” He smirks. “I leave the cooking to someone else.”

“I could see that.” You teased, following him inside.

“Well it’ll be dinner when our shifts are over. We should get burgers.”

“I wish I could. Unfortunately I got dinner plans with friends.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Oh, Y/N!” Foggy shouts as soon as he spots you, standing up and waving you over. “So glad you could make it.”

“Well thanks for the invite.” You said, with a smile, hoping the makeup you put on hid how tired you were (Seriously, why did you talk yourself into being a vigilante and a cop at the same time?).

“Y/N, this is Marci.” He said, gesturing to his lovely wife, who shakes your hand.

“Hello, Marci. It’s finally nice to meet you.” 

“Likewise.” Marci said as you guys took a seat. “I swear, he talks about you more than Matthew does.”

“Hey, she gives me all the juicy details my dear friend leaves out. That’s all.” Foggy defends, making her roll her eyes playfully.

You chuckle. “So, speaking of the devil. Where is he?”

He frowns, almost feeling like it was somehow his fault. “Unfortunately, poor Matty can’t make it tonight.”

“No?” You copy his expression. “How come?”

“Says he’s got something important to do.” He sighs dramatically. “I swear he’s got some weird night time hobby. He’s always disappearing.”

“Sounds like something he would do.” You smirk as the joke rolls off your tongue. “You think he’s a secret mob boss or something?”

“Honestly, I was thinking more like Batman, but wouldn’t be surprised with that either.” Foggy said with a shrug, before picking up his menu. “Now, let’s eat. I’m starving.”

“Never heard that one before.” Marci said, hiding her laugh.

“Hey.”

This was nice. You finally made some acquaintances that you could now call your friends. Although this dinner would be a bit bittersweet without Matt, you couldn’t complain, you were just glad you were here, living the moment.

However…

Deep down…

.

.

.

You still wonder what he’s doing.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Punch. Punch.

.

“Is something going on with you? You know you can always talk to me.” Foggy said, clasping his friendly hand onto his shoulder with a warm smile.

.

Punch. Punch.

.

“I thought you were supposed to help me.” Wilson Fisk said as he stared in disbelief from across the table; his hands were aching to strangle his lawyer as they stayed handcuffed to the metal flat top.

“But I am helping you.” Matt replies, his calm complexion suddenly morphed into something wicked that even made the ex-mob boss shiver in his seat. “The Defense is just doing a better job than me.”

.

Punch. Crack. Punch.

.

“You’ve done a wonderful job, Matthew.” The older woman, who happened to be the leader of assaination group that took him in, Alexandra Reid, smile so proudly at him as she grasps his shoulders. “You… are the most perfect soldier I’ve seen in a long time.” She chuckles. “Go spread chaos, my love.”

.

Punch. Crack. Pain. Whine. Punch.

.

“You fight well, kid.” His old and blind mentor said, making his heart skip with pride until… “But not well enough. You disappointment.”

.

Punch. Pain. Pain. Whine. Pain. Punch.

.

“Is Mama really gone?” Matt croaked as held his father’s hand, laying in bed as his head started to go numb from the medicine. But he didn’t need sight to know what expression his dad was making.

“Yeah, Matty. She is.”

.

Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch. Crack. Punch. Punch.

.

“You really are leaving?” He asked, watching his best friend’s face morph into hurt and sadness.

“Yeah. I am.” You could feel yourself starting to cry. “But I don’t want to.”

He grabs your hand, holding it tight. “Then don’t. I don’t want to lose you. Don’t go.”

“Matty, I don’t have a choice. I have to go.”

.

Matt lets out a low growl as keeps pounding his fists over and over into his ‘sparring’ partner. In the boxing ring he had the man backed into one of the corners, flat on his bottom as blood sprayed everywhere; small bone fragments starting to stick out of his bruised flesh too, But he didn’t care. This was just someone he could easily replace, so he picked up the speed, turning the dial full. Striking over, and over, and over, and over again. And again. And again. And again. And–

“If you don’t stop you’ll cripple him. Or worse.” The blond Karen Page, his advisor, said as she entered the room, making him pause for a second.

“Should I care?” Matt snipped, voice sounding like acid that could melt anything it touches.

Karen’s jaw clenched, but she kept her composure. “You should care, seeing that our number of men is declining. Fast.”

Matt groans and punches the man again, surely KO-ing him this time. “I turn my head away for one second, and my men just disappear in a blink of an fucking eye. They’re all ending up on police departments’ doors so fast, It’s not even safe enough to let them go without some suspicion. Fuck!” He kicks him in the shin, getting a crack. “It’s all because of that fucking asshole in a mask! Do you have any idea where he came from?”

“No, sir. I asked around. Nobody knows. And the reports I… ‘borrowed’ shows that there’s no reports of a mutant, or superpowered individual other than Ghost-Spider in the last ten years or so.”

Matt pauses, thinking. “You think they come from out of state?” 

“It’s a possibility.” Karen quickly notices his silence. “Someone comes to mind, sir?”

“No. I was over stepping.” He sighs, holding out his hand as he’s thrown a towel. “Did the delivery arrive smoothly like I asked?”

“It’s on its way. Should be there soon.”

“Good.” He throws the towel around his neck. “I need a shower, and send someone to bandage him.”

“Shall I tell the driver the penthouse or regular?”

Matt pauses again for another second. “Regular. I need to go to work tomorrow.”

“Very well then. I’ll call him now.” Karen bows his head. “Goodnight, Sir.”

“Likewise.” He says, while exiting the ring and into the locker room, still burning with rage that keeps on growing. 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Stretching out in your new pajamas, you casually let yourself float around your apartment, excitement (or I guess pride) ran through your veins as you read the next article about your alter ego ‘Daredevil’. The local news lately has been flooded with nothing but articles about you. The next one made you grin, some twenty year old blogger was geeking out how fast you were in some reports and sightings.

You chuckle, lips curling in a smirk. “Damn right, I’m fast.” You didn’t have enhanced speed for nothing. Besides that, you were also cursed gifted with levitation, superhuman reflexes and stamina, and lastly, psionics; Something that you can manipulate in many different ways. It wasn’t as glorious as when your mother would do it, but you were trying.

I wonder how Uncle Pietro would have felt if he knew I had his speed. You frown, shaking your head when a gruesome memory crosses your mind.

Gosh. Why am I living so much in the past all of sudden? Why is everything flooding in quickly? You’ve been pretty good about not reliving your past over the years, but now… you can’t seem to get away from it.

I wonder why? You perk up when a knock comes from your door. You rotated slowly and gently landed on your bare feet, trekking across the room.

“Coming!” You call out, fixing your top before opening the door. You were met with a familiar sight, just like when you had moved in you saw the white vase at your feet filled with the same color and number of Roses. Looking around with caution again, you saw no one before picking it up, plucking the note off one of the stems. This time it just had a single word which was–

‘Sorry.’

You furrow your brows. “What the fuck?” Did whoever sent them know that you were down to your last rose? Did this person know that getting these was intriguing to you? Did they know that this was secretly creeping you out as well?

You scoffed out loud.

Hell…

Why the fuck were you hanging onto the roses if they were driving you crazy anyway?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Matt does his best the next day to hide the cuts on his hands, and bruises lingering on his body. Although he’s grown used to the smell of blood staining his flesh, he knows everyone else around him is not (And being a blind man certainly didn’t help his cause). He got dressed like usual, skipping the red suit for his normal, freshly pressed, black one. He slips on his shades, grabbing his cane and briefcase by the door before stepping outside; One of his men standing there just like always. Dressed in what looked like a ‘caretaker’ outfit, he puts on the bubbly personality he was instructed to do.

“Morning, Mr. Murdock.” 

“Morning, Anthony.” 

“Taxi’s here like you requested.” 

“Perfect.” Matt starts walking with his men a quarter step behind. Now since they’re out in public, it’s time to start speaking in code. “Still having dinner with the family later?”

“That’s the plan, but you know Brently and his boys are. They’re probably out adventuring around here, waiting to give me a scare.” His response made Matt mentally smile. 

His bodyguards were in their posts like they should be. “Well, we wouldn’t want that for you.” He plays along, feeling for the door handle before pushing it open to the outside world.

“Oh, and don’t forget, you have a doctor’s appointment tonight. A follow up.”

A meeting. He almost forgot about the meeting he set up weeks prior. “Ah, almost slipped my mind.” Matt admits, opening the taxi door to get in but—

The smell is what threw him off. This scent was completely different than what he was used to.

“Where ya heading to, sir?” The driver spoke, which was another unfamiliar thing. 

He frowns, hiding his worriedness. “Mr. Richards?”

“Mr. Richards’ sick. I’m taking his place today.”

And that makes Matt grow quiet, letting his other senses kick in. Other than the scent, he could hear the steady heartbeat slowly start to spike, the knuckles tightening their hold on the steering wheel, and the smell of ink lingering on the man’s neck. Now he’s realized what’s going on.

Sliding back outside, sensing his bodyguard looking at him with concern. “It’s a shame, Mr. Richards is sick.” Matt said, acting like he was scratching his neck but in reality was a signal. His bodyguard trails his eyes subtly inside, confirming what Matt thought the tattoo was. 

A logo for a rebel gang in the area. A real pain in his side, always gutting for him. I guess he should have seen this coming sooner.

“It is. I hope he feels better.” His bodyguard said, still with a smile. “Will you be taking a stroll instead?”

“I will.” Matt pushes away from the vehicle, heading in the direction he needed to go. “Just make sure you take out the trash for me.”

“Of course. I’ll see you later Mr. Murdock.”

Matt listened as his bodyguard shut the back door before getting in the passenger, and took out his side arm, politely telling him to drive. He wishes he could go back and laugh in his ‘kidnapper’s’ face. He’s been in this business long enough to know who he trusts and who he can gut. Even though it can be tiring…

The monster inside him sometimes enjoys the thrill of it all.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

He sighs when the knob doesn’t turn, and starts fishing around for his keys; His pocket was like a void sometimes. He brushes off your scent and footsteps as being part of his tired mind, so it still surprised him when you suddenly appeared next to him.

“Wow, look who’s late.” You say, with a cheeky look.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” He asked, pausing his actions (guess he should stop brushing the thought of you off).

“Thought I stopped by on my patrol of the neighbourhood. I brought bagels.” You hold the piping hot food up. “And if you’re wondering why the door’s still locked, Foggy had… lots to drink last night.”

He raises an eyebrow. “How hungover is he?”

“Well, not sure on that, but he did call me three times in the middle of the night to talk about the Yankees and how Darth Vader would be great at the sport.”

He chuckles. “Oh. So he’s that drunk.” He finally unlocks and opens the door. “I’ll make coffee.”

You smiled. “Sounds good to me.” 

He started the machine and you walked around again, being nosy as usual. The office still had its characteristics about it, enough to know what side was Matt’s and what side was Foggy.

God, I’ve spent too much time around them. You spotted a stack of papers nearby, printed on it is what looks like an ad and you let your curiosity get the best of you on this one.

“You going to start standing on street corners and pass these out?” You asked, before realizing you didn’t phrase it right. “Sorry. The fliers, I mean?”

He smiles. “I thought that’s what you meant. No, Foggy thought it’d be a good idea to get the word out more.”

“Is business not good or something?” You asked, worriedly. For being in a building like this you thought they had to be doing good. 

“Don’t worry, we are. But we want to branch out more. Marci’s job allows her to travel around New York City, so we’re going to have her put some up whenever she gets the chance.”

“Well that’s good.” You look back at it, admiring the work until something catches your eye. You noticed that each of the men had signed their names on the bottom right above the printed version of it, a nice warm idea to show how ‘cozy’ this place was. But that’s not what was stopping you; There was something… oddly familiar about Matt’s penmanship. 

Where have I–

“Coffee’s ready.” Matt announces, coming out from the kitchenette with two cups.

You smile, subconsciously folding the paper and tucking it away. “Thanks.” You take a sip, the cheap coffee actually tasting pretty good this time around. Then, you noticed something else about him, something more troubling as you jump into action. “You’re bleeding.” 

That catches him off guard. “What?”

“You’re bleeding.” You set your cup down before he could speak and roll up his sleeve. You noticed the deep gash on his forearm, not too big, just deep. You furrow your brows concernedly. “How’d you get this cut?”

Matt keeps his cool, the lie he tells rolls off his tongue with ease. “Curse of a blind man. Can’t see where I’m going.”

“Let me fix you up. Where’s the first aid kit?”

“Y/N, you don’t have to.”

“I want to. Where is it?”

“Y/N–”

“Don’t be a brat, Matty.” You slap him in the shoulder, holding back a laugh. “Where is it?”

Now he seems like he was trying to do the same thing. “Really? You’re bringing that name back?” He asked as you hum and nod. “Well… peaches, it’s under the sink.”

“Pfft.” You slap him again as you pass and mumble, “Can’t believe that name is still haunting me.” You grab the kit and examine his arm again, taking a better look. “Looks deep. I could stitch it up?”

“Nah, don’t bother. It’ll heal.” Matt says, trying to calm the nerves he could hear in your voice.

“But it’s deep. I really should.”

“Y/N, it’ll heal. Trust me. Just bandage it.” 

You comply against your better judgment, and start cleaning it up first. “You got some superpower I don’t know about?” You asked, ironically.

“Hmm, maybe, I don’t know.” He grins. “Wouldn’t little peaches like to know that.”

“Oh, my god. Stop.” You blush a bit. “You’re never going to let that go.”

“What? Like I said the last time, I think it’s adorable.”

“No, it’s not.” You shake your head, all embarrassed as you start applying the bandages. “What would you think if I started calling you ‘Bratty-Matty’ again?”

He chuckles, making your heart flutter. “You already did a few times.”

“In public.”

“Oh, well—”

“See? You’ll hate it.”

“No, not necessarily.”

You pause. “Huh?”

“Well, you know, in today’s environment it’s kind of–” His free hand tugs on your badge around your neck, getting closer. “Kinky.”

“Kinky?” You said, with a flush face and slightly intrigued (completely unaware that he could hear your heart racing with excitement). “I didn’t think little… Catholic Matthew Murdock would be into those things.”

His pulse skipped a beat, feeling your hand gently brush the injured one. “Well, we were just children so… we wouldn’t talk about adult stuff now, would we?”

“Oh, certainly not.” You feel his chest press against yours as he closes the gap. “You… like to talk about that stuff?”

“Only with the people I really admire.”

“Oh, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” His hand creeps up to the back of your neck, gently bracing you. 

You couldn’t help but moan a little from it, drawing a seductive smile from him. “Matty…”

“I kind of want to share that with you.” He whispers, trying to lock his lips to yours and–

Your walkie suddenly crackles, an order coming through.

You blush. “Sorry.” You reply, trying to unclip from your belt as he steps away to give you space.

“It’s okay.” He says, listening to you ask the operator to repeat and you to take it.

You sigh. “Geez, I’m sorry, Matt. I’ve got to go.”

“No, no. It’s okay. You’re still on duty.” 

“Okay. Thanks.” You start to leave, until you feel him get close to you again (and looking flustered once more).

Matt rubs the back of his neck like a nervous tick. ��Hey, uh… would you like to… catch up some more? Just the two of us? Like… over dinner?”

Now it was your turn to be caught off guard. “Dinner?” You asked, making sure you heard that correctly. “Like uh… like a date?”

“I was thinking more of a play-date, maybe?” He replies with a half shrug.

“A play-date, huh?” You raise your eyebrow, grinning. “And where would this play-date partake?”

“Oh, I was thinking maybe that Sicilian place in that hotel off 5th?”

“That’s quite the restaurant. You sure?”

“My treat.”

“Alrighty then, hot shot. I’ll see you seven. I’ll wear something nice.”

“You could wear pajamas and I wouldn’t care.” He listens to you laugh a wave goodbye, standing in the doorframe of his office until he hears you no more. His expression fades away into something more serious now. “Brently.”

The office across the way, which was ‘up for lease’, opened up to one of his bodyguards who was awaiting a task. “You called, Boss?”

“Call Karen and tell her to move the meeting I have tonight to tomorrow.”

Brently’s face stays the same, but his tone shifts to concern. “Sir, would that be wise? I mean, they’ve been waiting weeks to have a word from you. You sure they won’t lash out?”

“They should know enough to not even try that. If not, handle it. Understood?”

“Understood.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Did Castle disappear again?” You asked an officer as you entered the office, noticing that he was not lounging around where his desk was. 

“Probably. I haven’t seen him all morning.”

“Figures.”

Seriously, where does he run off too? You should probably ask him, I mean he trusts you enough to tell you, right? You head into the women’s locker room, heading to the row in the back. You quickly examine to see if your lock has been tampered with before putting your bag inside. It’s kind of sad you had to watch you back here, a place you should feel the safest but you don’t. You lock it back up as you hear the door being opened, sounding like two officers coming inside, chatting.

“-surprised she’s not dead yet.”

“I know, right? I’m still amazed.”

You roll your eyes at the gossip and how they sounded like they were teenagers in high school. “Oh, boy…” You whisper, and start to leave, but–

“I wonder what Lieutenant Y/N did to the Boss for him to spare her so far.”

You froze, breath caught in your throat.

Wait, what? 

“I mean, how long has she been here with us? A month? Two?”

“That sounds about right.”

“I mean, she’s survived a lot longer than we expected. Remember Captain Trevor? He refused to follow the program and guess what? A day and a half later he was dead. Bullet embedded in his skull and they ruled it a suicide, but we all know what it is.”

“Yeah.” A sigh, and the next words were like a knife to your heart. “I feel bad for Castle. A hardened soldier like him still felt guilty about doing it. You could see it in his eyes.”

“Yeah. Poor Trevor too. He was young. Castle probably saw his own son in him.”

“Man, this sucks. How has the Lieutenant been living this long?”

“That’s what I’m saying. There’s got to be something to it.”

“I believe it.”

You continue to listen as they talk about something else before grabbing something out of their lockers and leaving. The whole time you had your hand cupped over your mouth, your face went pale. Frank had told you briefly about his ‘program’ kill but…

You didn’t think it would hit so deep. Now all you could think about now was–

.

.

.

Why were you still alive?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

You wore a cap sleeve red dress for your date, accompanied with black heels and a purse. You kept your makeup kind of light, and decided to style your hair long today with an exception of a clip for looks. Just as you finished putting some perfume on, you were surprised when you found Matt already at your door.

“Matty?” You said, taken back.

“The one and only.” Was his response, hold out his arm for you to take. “Ready to go?”

You knock yourself out of your trance (that of shock and how good he looked tonight) and lock the door. “Yeah, of course.” You take his arm and you both guide each other around down the apartment stairs.

“You smell good, by the way.” 

You blush. “Thanks.” Then you mentally slap yourself. “I just realize you can’t see what I’m wearing.”

“I can feel.” He fingers brush the fabric. “Silk?”

“I got it years ago when my precinct was doing this charity-gala event, and haven’t worn it since. It’s red by the way.”

“Ah. I always liked that color on you. Cherry?”

“Apple.” You answered as you get to the last step when the thought from earlier comes back. “Hey, how did you know where I lived?”

“You told me one time.” Matt replies, masking his panic pretty well (God, how did he forget that?).

“I did?” 

“Yeah.”

“Huh.” Maybe it was all those third shifts you’ve been doing lately. “You must have a better memory than I do, ‘cause I don’t.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The restaurant was… way more fancy than you thought it was going to be. I know Matt said he’d treat you but Jesus H. Christ this place was way above your pay grade. The materials they used and decorations you could see knew they were attached to triple digits, and when a menu doesn’t bother showing you the price for something, you knew you were out of your league.

Now I feel kind of guilty mooching off of him. You thought, knowing he was a lawyer but still. Could he really afford this?

“Here’s some glasses for the wine.” Your server said, gently placing them on the table. You quickly now noticed the the brace on his forearm and out curiosity, you asked,

“Your hand okay?” 

“Oh, this? Yeah I’m fine. Lucky actually. I was getting mugged the other day.” He says, and you suddenly realize why he looked so familiar. 

“That’s awful. Sorry to hear that.” Matt replies, as the waiter shrugs.

“Like I said, I was lucky. Thank god that vigilante was nearby. Saved my ass. Just wished I could have thanked him.” You couldn’t help but smile a little while Matt mumbled something incoherent as he continued tracing his fingers over the braille menu.

What’s up with him? You wondered, before tuning back into what your waiter was saying.

“-So, have we decided what we’re eating tonight?” He asked, and the two of you placed your orders before handing the menus back. “I’ll have that out for you shortly.”

“Still not sold on Daredevil?” You asked, pouring a glass of wine for the both of you. 

He thanks you before answering, “Like I said, I just want the right guy to pay.”

“And you think he’s not doing a good job?”

“Well the media thinks he is. I’m not so sure myself sometimes. But I’ll admit, I admire how persistent he is.”

You pause before tilting your head, confused. “Persistent? What do you mean by that?” You took note how he looked like a deer in a headlight just as your waiter came out with the appetizers. By then the subject was changed, something less ‘intense’ and more lighthearted. And by the time your main courses came the two of you were laughing and enjoying yourself, feeling like you two were kids again. 

“Oh, man. I can’t believe you guys actually did that.” You said, mixing around your carbonara with your fork. “How did you and Foggy not get expelled?”

“Good…” He chuckles. “Good question. We really should have, to be honest.”

You hum, staring at him for a minute before feeling a twinge of guilt. You wanted to ask him something that’s been bugging you for a while, and you were not sure if it was the appropriate time or not. You set your utensil down, nervously. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“It’s… kind of a debbie-downer.”

“You know I’ll answer it, Y/N.” He says, reassuring. “Shoot.”

Backing out crosses your mind, but you managed to encourage yourself to finally ask, “Why did you stop writing letters to me?” And then you saw his expression again, one that you didn’t know how to place. Why was he so surprised you were asking him certain things tonight? 

You watch him set his own fork down, eternally debating with himself as he takes a deep breath.

“Listen… Y/N, I–”

The sound of something shattering caught both of your attentions, followed by hush voices before it got really loud.

“I know he’s in here! I recognized his cars outside! His people!” A man shouted, his thick accent lingering. A worker shouted at him to get back as he entered the dining hall, catching everyone’s eye now.

“What’s going on?” You said, missing the way the brunette clenches his fists (‘Cause unlike you, he knew exactly who this was).

“I know you’re in here! Тащи сюда свою задницу, ублюдок!” (*Get your ass over here, Bastard!)

“What the hell is babbling about?” You asked, recognizing it was Russian, but didn’t understand it. You watched him get pulled away by a few people, still shouting and kicking like a child throwing a fit. “What do you think that was all about?”

Matt’s hands twitched and ached in his lap, unbeknownst to you. “Um… I don’t–” But then his phone rings, this time you could see the bit of annoyance on his features as he pulls it out.

[‘Brently. Brently. Brently.’]

The automatic voice chimed over and over until he picked it up.

“Sorry. Let me take this.” He says, before you have any say. “Hello?” You watch him talk, the annoyance on his face seemed to progress that was starting to rub off on you. “Alright, then.” He hangs up with a sigh.

“Who’s Brently?” You asked, slightly irritated (and you would be more if he knew he was going to lie next).

“Uh, client. Um, he’s in some legal trouble, I, uh… gotta go bail him out.” Matt replies, scooting his chair back.

You blink in surprise. “What?” 

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I gotta take responsibility for this.”

“To bail your client out?” He shakes his head, causing you more confusion. “Doesn’t he have a family? Why did you call you to bail him out?”

“Well, I’m… his lawyer, and he calls me so it falls on me.”

Now that just sounded like a load of bull to you. You frown. “So? Make him wait, or call Foggy then. We’re–”

“Foggy’s out with Marci. Don’t want to bother him.” Matt says, cutting you off.

“And we’re not… out? Together? Like him and his wife?”

“Y/N, I’m really sorry, I’ll make it up to you, but this is important.”

Now that got your blood boiling. “And this is not?” You asked, standing up yourself and walking away with him calling out your name like a broken record.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Matt was really surprised that you let him even open the taxi door for you, but he knew you weren’t looking his way with your arms cross and head down with rage (he honestly couldn’t fucking blame you for acting like this). He then walked around and told the driver your address, and told him to drive safe which he complied.

“You Mr. Richards son?” He asked in a low tone that you couldn’t hear.

“Yes, I am.”

“Is he doing better?”

“A little banged up, but he’s alright. Should be back in a few days, Sir.”

“Good.” Then he made a face that makes anyone’s skin crawl. “You make sure nothing happens to her, or I’ll gut inside out and mail it to your dad as a ‘get well’ gift. Understood?”

The driver pales and nods before driving away. Matt then gets in a black tinted SUV, fuming in his seat as his bodyguard rolls the privacy screen down to talk.

“Page has Mr. Anatoly, Boss.” 

“Where are they heading?” He asked, hands aching again as he bounces his leg to confine his anger inside. 

“Usual spot. Shall I drive you over there?”

“Yes.” A grin. “Please.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Here’s a twenty.” You said, as the taxi pulled up to your apartment. “Just keep the change.”

“Uh, no need, uh… Your date paid for it.” The driver explained, waving it off.

You roll your eyes. “Of course he did.” You mumbled, getting out of the vehicle quickly as he bid you goodnight. Well…

That had to be one of the worst dates you’ve ever been on (and you’ve been on a lot). You threw your purse on the kitchen counter, kicking off your heels somewhere in the dark hall before sliding down to a sitting position against the wall. You get that he had an important client, but did he really have to take priority over him rather than spending a nice evening with you? Or better question… Why did he look like you caught off guard so many times tonight? 

What are you hiding, Matt? And that was a question that was burning like candle light.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Karen was sitting in the back of another SUV listening to how Anatoly, the Russian mob member, went on and on about something (to be frank, she was only half listening).

“You were right to reach out to us, although, since we’re being truthful, a call would have been more appropriate.” Karen explains, feeling slightly sorry about what was going to happen to this man.

“Look, I… I wanted to speak with him in person. Try to put the past behind us.” The Russian said, getting a hum which was right on cue for the vehicle to stop. “Why are we stopping?”

“They say the past is etched in stone, but it isn’t. It’s… smoke trapped in a closed room, swirling, changing. Buffeted by the passing of years and wishful thinking.” Karen starts poetically saying. “But even though our perception of it changes, one thing remains constant. The past can… never be completely erased. It lingers. Like the scent of burning wood. And it’s my job as his advisor to make sure everything just… lingers.”

Anatoly gives her a strange look, which Karen ignored to answer a call.

“Sir?” She said, listening closely. “Yes, passenger side.”

“Was that him?” The Russian asked, hopeful.

“Yes. He’d like to have a word with you.”

Anatoly nods and mumbles something in his native tongue seconds before the door flies wide open. To his shock, an angry Matt Murdock reaches inside and yanks him out, throwing him viciously on the ground. 

“You embarrassed me.” Matt snarls, even with his shades on you knew there was bloodlust in those blind pupils. “You fucking embarassed me infront of her!” And throws a punch.

They both exchange some hits, equally spilling some blood, however, at one point, Anatoly pulls out a knife, swinging it defensively. What thought could do some damage, he ends up seeing the Kingpin’s suit was barely touched by the blade.

Surprising him again, Matt had him pinned against the vehicle, breaking his wrist the weapon was in. “Мне бы хотелось, чтобы ты просто позвонил. Я бы дал тебе пропуск. Но нет…” He hisses, cradling the sides of the Russian’s head (*I wish you had just fucking called. I would have given you a pass. But no…). “Ты только что выкопал себе чертову могилу.” (*You just had dug your own fucking grave.)

He then starts banging his head on the side of the car a few times before tossing him back at the ground. Anatoly desperately tries to crawl to the car, begging Karen to help in Russian, but Matt’s advisor made no movements that she would at all. Instead, Matt drags Anatoly by his hair, laying him between the floor and the door…

Then slams it hard.

And over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

And over again.

As blood bathed the concrete with its glorious red color, Matt never stopped until his enemy’s head was completely taken off. 

Inhaling heavily, body still tense as Karen walks over carefully, offering her Boss her handkerchief.

“Tell Mr. Potter, I’ll need a new suit.” Matt said after a moment, and wiped his face clean.

Karen nods with a hum. “What about this?” She asked, gesturing to the body behind them.

“Keep it. Freeze it. Let his brother worry for a few days, and will pull the cards if we have to.”

“Which cards, if I may ask?” 

“Send it to Vladimir to show who really runs this city, or…”

.

.

.

“We blame it on Daredevil.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Alright, listen up. Last night, a father was driving home with his son until they were surrounded by unidentified men.” Your police chief said as you all were gathered around the office. You knew by how tense he was this was going to be some tough news to swallow. “Those men beat the poor dad and kidnapped the kid. Griffin Banks. Eight years old, he has curly brown hair and brown eyes; about 5 feet tall, 86 pounds, and was last seen wearing his little league uniform. Your jobs are to find him quickly and bring him home safe. Understood? – Great. Off you all go!”

And then all of you scattered like ants, hopefully to get some kind of lead, some kind of evidence of where he was but… 

“This shit’s going nowhere.” Frank complained, after a few hours of tiredly searching. You couldn’t blame him for complaining about this, because you too were feeling the same way.

If only I had heard about this last night when I was on the street. I could have been looking already. You went out as Daredevil last night to clear your head after that disastrous date and didn’t come across any crime or hear anything to spark your interest. You thought that was a good thing, you thought maybe the criminals finally understood that you weren’t leaving, but now you realize that the reason was entirely different. 

Did everyone in the underworld know about this kid? Was this an act of war or treason? You still weren’t a hundred percent sure how everything ran, but you did know that not everyone in the shadows worked or agreed with the Kingpin, so maybe this was a way to get back at him.

But why an innocent kid of all things? 

“Let’s try around the park again.” You said, heading back for the car.

“Again? Y/N we just came from there.” Frank said, as you shake your head.

“Maybe we missed something. I want to check.”

“Y/N. Hey, wait. Y/N–” He grabs you by the shoulder to stop you from entering his car. “Wait. Look, I know you want to catch this guy, I get it, but we can’t keep going back to the same place over and over again, it’s not doing us any good.”

“Yeah, but what if we’re missing something?” You asked, forming a look of desperation in your eyes that means so much more. So much more that he actually understands it.

His face softens. “Y/N, I know that look, you’ve been through this before haven’t you?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, breaking eye contact. “I just want him to be alright. I couldn’t save the last one.” You explain, voice quivering at the end.

“Hey, I get it. We all have a similar case every once and while, and it gets to us. I understand how you feel. However, if you keep running in circles, and getting inside your head, you’re not going to be able to do much. You’re going to make the same mistakes.”

“I know, but–”

“Go take a break. Go clear your head, then come back to the precinct.”

“Frank–”

“There are a hundred or so other officers looking for this kid. You can take a rest.”

“Frank–”

“Please.”

And how could you say ‘no’ when Frank reminded you of your old partner Max here? He was making the same thoughtful, worried expression that made you want to break and asked for a hug. 

You wanted to say ‘no’, to show them both that you could handle it, to show that you’ve grown but… You can’t.

You haven’t grown one bit since then.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Fancy seeing you here.” 

You take your face out of your hands, looking up from your spot in the waiting area. You decided on getting a quick bite before you head back. “Foggy?”

“Thought I get some grub myself.” He said, sitting down next to you, waiting as well. “Rough morning?”

I guess he could tell how messed up you felt. “You could say that.”

“Is it because of that missing kid?”

“Yeah.” You said, as you laid your head against the wall. “Guess word got around quickly.”

“You guys will find him.” He gives you a reassuring look. “I have faith.”

You scoffed. “You have more faith than I do.”

He looks proud of himself while replying, “Hey, It’s what I do best.” 

“What about you?” You cast him a glance. “Did you and Matt sort out that client issue?”

Foggy tilts his head, eyebrows scrunched together. “Issue? What issue?”

“The client issue.” You realize he didn’t know what you were talking about and continue trying to specify. “Matt and I went out last night but he cut it short; Told me he had to leave because of work. An issue with a client.”

“Issue with a client? I don’t recall a current issue with anybody.” Foggy says, honestly, as he scratches his head to think. “Are you sure that’s what he told you?”

“I’m dead serious.” You sit up straighter. “You seriously have no idea what I’m talking about?”

“No, I’m sorry, Y/N. I would know if we had an issue, I mean, we’re partners; Fifty-Fifty, you know? But if he comes into the office later I’ll ask him about it.”

You let his words sink as he excused himself to grab his food. You were… baffled. Completely fucking baffled. Did Matt really lie to you last night? And for what? He didn’t want to be there with you anymore? Did he think you were being nosy? Did he not like you in the way you thought he did? Whatever the reason was, it didn’t matter…

You were going to be pissed off anyway.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Take the bag off.” Matt snarls as he enters the freezer. His bodyguard complied, showing their enemy off for him to ‘see’. “If you’re smart you’ll make this quick. Where’s the kid you took?”

The Russian grinned, his teeth stained red with lips full of blisters. “Like hell I’ll tell you. Not until you agree to meet with Vladimir like you promised!”

“Where’s the kid?” He tried again, patience thinning out already.

“Fuck. Off. 3асранец.” (*Asshole)

Matt hums. “So not smart? Not a shocker.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who backed out at the last minute. I don’t know what was so important last night that you just had to miss it.”

“Well, all of us have lives, you know.”

He laughs. “A leech like you? Have a life? I find that hard to believe.” Another chuckle. “We know you so well that Vladimir had us on standby to take a kid.” And another. “We know you have a little soft spot for them.”

But Matt stays calm, eerily calm that could make anyone’s skin crawl. “Just Vladimir? So did his brother not have any say in that?”

“What?”

“You know, Anatoly paid me a visit last night. He actually interrupted my important event. If your bosses had such a… grand plan, how come one of them came looking for me?”

He scoffed under his breath, mumbling, “Цифры. Анатолий всегда был нетерпеливым.” (*Figures. Anatoly was always the impatient one.)

This makes Matt grinned. “Ah, so you guys have no idea? Do you?”

“Know what?”

“Что я тоже нетерпелив.” Matt says while snapping his fingers (*That I am also impatient). The meat hooks were shifted around until it was a headless body that appeared, but that didn’t shake the Russian too much until someone pulled out the body’s severed head from a box of ice. 

The man paled. “O Боже…” (*Oh God…)

“Понимаете?” Matt asked, the same expression staying (*You see?). “Мне плевать, какой у тебя статус. Ты меня злишь, я убью тебя.” (*I don’t care what status you are. You make me angry, I’ll kill you)

“You really are a monster.” He says, trying to keep it together.

“Yeah, I know. And with no regrets too. Now…” Matt’s face falls. “Where’s the kid?”

“Like I’d ever tell you after what you just did! 3асранец!” He snaps before spatting in his face. (*Asshole!)

Matt stays quiet, and calmly wipes the red spite from his face. “Otomo.” He calls out to the deepest part of the freezer, a person dressed in an all black ninja outfit. “Kare o korose.” (*Kill him). The assassin nods, unsheathing his blade which was enough to get the Russian to wiggle in his restraints and start begging.

“W-Wait! Wait! Wait! What about– No. No–”

“Dispose the body anyway you can.” Matt orders as he turns to leave the cold, until…

“Ты хочешь остановить ��орвиголову, верно?!” (*You want to stop Daredevil right?!)

As soon as those words were spoken, the Kingpin stopped in his tracks. It was only until he turned back around, the Russian started laughing with hysteria and joy.

“I know you do. We all do.” He pants and swallows. “Этот парень... он поможет любому. И я гарантирую, что он захочет спасти ребенка. Пусть все это ускользнет…” (*This guy... he’ll help anyone. And I guarantee he’ll want to save the child. Let this all slide…) He chuckles with a painful smile. “Я-я упущу это, и вместе мы сможем поймать Сорвиголову. Разве это не было бы красиво?” (*I-I let this slide, and together, we could trap Daredevil. Wouldn’t that be beautiful?)

The man prayed that this would work, and his spirits seemed to be lifted when the King of Darkness smiled.

“No one else saw you take him?” Matt asked one of the guards who shook his head. “Huh. You know…” He shifted the weight on his cane. “I like that idea. It is beautiful. Slightly risky, but beautiful.” Then he flickered his blind gaze back to his assassin. “Kare o korose.” (*Kill him)

Then he spun on his heels again and left, the door shutting behind the screams that his sensitive ears could still hear. He maneuvered around the place, listening to his adivisor’s heels click around behind him at the pace he told her to as he finds a sink to clean his soured face.

“So you’re going forward with his suggestion?” Karen asked, hands behind her back, waiting.

“It’s a little far-fetched, but if Daredevil catches wind of the kid, we actually can kill two birds with one stone.” He said, running the very idea over and over in his head. “Any updates?”

“Your phone’s been blowing up. The personal one.”

“Calls?”

“Texts mostly.”

“Who’s it from?” He asked her, as she pulled it out of her pocket and reread it over.

“Foggy.” She replies, watching him stop drying his face.

“Is it important?”

“Might be.”

“Might be?”

“He wants to know what client issue you had last night, and says you should contact Y/N.” She frowns. “Apparently she’s pissed at you for leaving last night.” He mutters something under his breath that she didn’t hear before she decided to take a step forward. “Forgive me if I’m stepping over a line, and I know she’s a long time friend, but she’s also a cop; A cop that hasn’t been linked with your program yet, and has been begging for you to tell her yourself, which I know you won’t.”

“Your point is, Karen? Matt asked, throwing the towel aside.

“What if this works out like you hope, and you reveal to her that you’re the Kingpin, then what? You expect her to be okay with it? Expect her to accept it without a little blackmail on the line?”

A brief pause. “No.”

“Exactly. She’ll try to take your ass to court, better yet she’ll try to shoot you dead. I just don’t want a repeat of last time.”

And the haunting memory flashed before him. He didn’t think it could still hurt so much. “I appreciate your concern, but I’ll figure that out later. But what about you? How’s your task going?”

“Still growing strong like you asked.” Karen said as he cups her jaw with a smile. “He trusts me a lot.”

“Good. Good. I’m glad to hear that.” He says, while slowly tracing her red lips with his thumb. “Even if, and that’s a big if, Castle ever thinks that he’s out of my control, he’s not, not if you’re on him like a thorn in his side. Right?”

“Right.” 

He hums, and lightly ghosts her arm with his fingertips drawing a small sound from her. “Bet you’re imagining me as him. Hmm?” He pulls her head down closer, his lips right next to her ear. “Keep seducing Castle for me, okay? I don’t care if you catch any feelings either, as long as you know he’ll still be between my fingertips, then I’ll let that slide. Understood?”

She makes a sound again, eyes half lid. “Understood.”

“Good.” Then he gently bites the side of her lower lip, kitty licking the bruise before pulling away. “Tell the driver to bring the car around while I make a call.”

With a shaky breath she says, “Yes, sir.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The voicemail still buzzed in the back of your head as you came bursting through your window, barely having the mental strength to lock as you started shedding your DD suit as you walked towards your bathroom.

*Beep*

[ ‘Hey, Y/N. Look, I know you’re upset, and you have every right to be, but please just… Can you just call me back and just listen to what I have to say? Please? I just… I know I messed up. I’m sorry. Please call me back when you get the chance.’ ]

*Beep*

You kicked off the last pair of clothing as you crawled into the shower turning the hot water on, letting it run on your hunched over back with your forehead against the tiles.

These few days have sucked. First your date leaves you high and dry, then you find out he lied, and now you can’t even find a missing kid whether your Daredevil or Detective L/N. It…

It really hurts.

This task… hits… close to home.

You hold back the tears you felt, and hold back the urge to sob as you let your fingers trace the scar on the base of your neck, remembering how it got there. 

.

It was stupid mistake. 

You should have waited for your partner instead of running off on your own. 

You’re an idiot. You’re an idiot. You should have waited. You should have waited. You–

You honestly thought the universe would grant you this. To grant you a chance to catch the man you’ve been hunting for weeks; To catch the man that’s been stealing those kids and doing heinous things with them. You needed to catch him, you begged to catch him but…

No.

No you can’t.

As soon as you spotted him you ran like hell after him, ignoring as your partner Max yelled your name. You had blinders on, you’ll admit, but you don’t want that man to take another kid, to steal yet another kid’s future. No.

Not on your fucking watch. However–

He catches you by surprise, and suddenly your whole world is on its side as you free fall, hitting something sharp and painful on the way down. Now you’re laying on the ground, your spine feeling funny as you feel the pool of blood grow around your head, your ears ringing like they’re dying out.

Damn it. You thought. You really thought you had this one in the bag as you started to fade to black just as your partner’s voice broke out into a scream. A scream that you know was–

.

“Fuck!” You yelled, and swiped off all the bottles off the shelf and let it rattled to the tub floor (you know you probably just woke up your downstairs neighbour but you couldn’t care less). You sigh heavily, holding the sides of your head.

.

.

.

Tonight was going to be a long night for you.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Frank’s fingers glided over his phone for the millionth time this morning. You haven’t arrived at all this morning which was so not like you (Especially since you were so desperate to solve this case). He waited a few minutes before texting again:

[ Forget what precinct you work at or something? Where are you? ]

He just wants something from you, even if you respond with an emoji that he’ll have to decipher.

Come on, Y/N. At least tell me you’re staying home. One of his fears right now was you doing something drastic. After his conversation with you yesterday he decided to look up what was scaring you, and that was the case you took just a few years out of the academy, the same year you became a detective. A criminal that had been taunting you and your partner for months, and when you finally had him, the night ended with you getting a near death injury… and another kid getting killed.

Poor girl. I just wish you didn’t have to get demoted here. You’re too good for this place. His thoughts were interrupted when his phone finally dinged with a message from you.

[ Detective Stubborn: Ate something bad last night. Stomach’s killing me. ]

He sighs with relief, whether that was true or not, he’s just glad to know you’re away from here.

[ Feel better. ]

He just really, really hopes you stay home and clear your mind.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

But of course… why would you?

After planning all day and looking over very little evidence you had you decided to go out as soon as the sun started to set. You had to rough up a couple of street thugs to get some more solid evidence, but eventually it was enough for you to figure out where they took the boy.

The warehouse district.

You floated through one of the skyline landing without a sound, and the rest  of your mission honestly became a bit of a blur. Why? Well… as you rushed around through each warehouse undetected until you actually found the kid, your enemies, when they finally noticed you, didn’t seem very fond of you poking your nose in their business. Now you’re running like hell, a kid in your arms as you tried shielding him from every bullet that came your way. You tried levitating a few times when you found yourself up high and trying to cross a beam or a walkway, but you’ve never actually flown with someone in your arms so you’re out of practice.

Come on, Y/N. Remember bootcamp, Remember your first rescue mission, you know how to carry someone to safety. Which was true, but all those other times weren’t with you being pelted with bullets from an angry mob.

You felt the kid grip your outfit tighter making you say, “It’s okay. It’s okay. Everything will be okay.” You just kept repeating that comfortingly as you made three small crates float and fly to knock the men out of your path. You kicked one of the guys in the head when he tried to get up, sprinting again. If you can just get to the edge of the building, you’ll be home free.

Trekking across a catwalk, you used your abilities to conjure up a quick shield to block before surging the power outwards, knocking the gunmen off his feet and over the railing, plummeting into the overly packed room of wooden crates from overseas (you’re not sure if you really wanted to know what the Russian mafia was importing). You fought a few more guys that dared to intervene, dared you to stop and surrender and be killed.

You could see the finish line, you could feel the boy relaxing your arms as he sees it too; You were finally going to complete the mission that’s been haunting you for so–

You heard something rattle and roll behind you.

You just had enough time to look at what it was before putting a shield up, the tiny thing exploding your whole world.

.

.

.

.

When you came back around, an excruciating pain ran through your body, a pain that was so unbearable that you didn’t want to move. The explosive you managed to shield took out the catwalk you were on and everything close by. You fell all the way down with debris dusting your face, still holding onto the kid before blacking out. Now… you laid on the floor, your head shaking as you urged yourself to look down, finding what was causing the pain.

 A metal bar was sticking out from your abdomen.

You somehow didn’t scream, maybe because you felt like you were going into shock, or maybe you were shouting and haven’t noticed yet.

Oh, god, I’ve– wait… the boy… Trying not to black out when you turn your head to look, and about a foot away was the boy who had bounced off your body during the fall. Your heart would have caught in your throat if he didn’t see his chest moving, but it was.

He’s alive. You sighed with relief, but here comes the tricky part. How are you going to move and save him with this pole in your stomach? You groaned loudly as you tried to move, arm reaching out in the attempt to at least shake him awake, trying to tell him to run if you’re truly stuck.

“Uh, Gr-Griffin… g-get up. W-Wake… up. Please…” You croaked, yet it doesn’t seem like the sleeping boy can hear you… but someone else could.

But as you shifted again, pain shooting out as the metal shifted with you, that’s when you noticed someone coming over in the corner of your eye. One of the Russians had come over, checking if you were still alive which was plain as day now. You watch his eyes go between you and the child for a few seconds before grinning like a maniac. 

Your eyes widened when you saw the gun in his hands. “No.” You whimpered with your fingertips glowing red, right as he shot a bullet into the kid’s head. “No!!!” You couldn’t believe what you had just witnessed. Would this have happened if it didn’t–

Then he pointed the weapon at you, out instinct or adrenaline your abilities shifted the gun towards him, firing his own bullet into his own skull.

His body dropped like it was made of bricks, the gun sliding inches away from him, causing you to nearly throw up in your mouth. I mean, you were a cop after all, so of course you’ve had to shoot a person or two but this was…

Messing with your fucking head.

You could hear shouting in the distance, which was enough for you to kick it high gear again and try to move. First things first was trying to get this damn bar out of your stomach. 

How the fuck– wait– let’s see– You concertrated the best you could as you redirected all the energy you had into yanking it out (doing it quickly probably was the best idea but you didn’t have much time). The bar rattled next to you, a pool of red oozing out as you rolled to your side feeling the blood rise to your throat. You quickly moved to all four, pulling your mask down to cough up the rest of the red. Sweating and heaving, you felt like you had no energy left to move, but you needed to. You could hear them coming.

As you got up to your feet, your knees nearly buckled but yourself forward where you noticed some stairs going up. Ripping and pushing your hood against your wound as you started to climb, hoping you weren’t leaving too much of a blood trail. 

Just as you got to the top you heard the voice grow near, and you managed to slide yourself into a place that no one could see from below. You just needed to stay hidden long enough for them to leave to make your escape (whenever that was). However, you never thought after searching for a few months that you would actually get to see the man they call ‘Kingpin’.

You peaked out watching two very different groups of people arrive. The Russians looked slightly surprised when the Underworld’s Ruler showed up, dressed in the red suit that you’ve heard about on the street. He walked like he owned the place, his black cane with gold trim was like the piece that tied his whole look together. He stopped with his back towards you, with many of his men standing around as, what you tell was, the Russian mob’s leader came face-to-face with Kingpin.

“3асранец. Now you show your face.” The leader, Vladimir snaps (*Asshole). 

“Well, seeing how this is my turf now, I have to show my face.” Kingpin said, making you perk up with confusion.

Why does his voice sound–? But your thought trails off as you watch Vladimir scoffing in disbelief.

“Your turf? You think we just… ‘mess up’ and you take over?”

“Well, I certainly don’t need to see that–” Matt points to the mess the explosion made. “You pretty much destroyed most of your cargo.”

Vladimir frowns, shifting his weight. “I’ll admit, I wish my men didn’t blow up half the warehouse. But I will give him a pass because he was trying to stop our rat.”

He raises an eyebrow. “A rat?”

“Yeah, a rat.” Vladimir smiles a little. “I had a feeling Daredevil would come for the kid. Why wouldn’t you if it makes you feel good?”

Matt clenches the top of his cane, keeping his composure from the neck up. “Daredevil was here?”

“Still here, I think.” The Russian points to the bloody puddle on the floor. “There’s a pipe laying next to a large amount of blood. In my experience, getting impaled you don’t get very far.”

His frown deepens, grip tightening. “And the kid? I smell two bodies with no heartbeats.” Then his whole aura changed into something darker, suffocating. “Tell me, are those your men?”

Vladimir paled, and tried to keep the discomfort off his face. He didn’t want to answer, even he knew staying silent wouldn’t be a good idea. “One of them.”

“One of them?” 

“Why do you care? It could have been Daredevil! She could have pulled the trigger!”

Matt didn’t say anything as he cast his blind gaze at the corpses before saying, “No. His scent is the only one on the gun and its bullets. So the kid’s death is in your hands.” But then he pauses, realizing something. “Wait. She?”

“Yes. My men said they saw Daredevil upclose, says the stature’s too small and not burly enough to be a man.” Vladimir replies, making Matt hum in response. “I guess something good did come out of this after all. We finally have more evidence of what we’re up against.”

And those words were his signature for his own death. 

The room got really cold, and energy felt suffocating. Everyone present began praying that they’ll be spared.

Matt grits his teeth, shaded eyes growing hungrier. “First you embarrassed me, now you insult me? I’m not even sure what to say anymore.” He says, snapping his fingers as his bodyguards shoved Vladimir to his knees, the end of a barrel being pressed in his face. The other Russians tried to make an advance, but they were outnumbered, making them slowly raise their hands over their heads.

“Давай, мужик.” Vladimir said, as Matt made a tsking news (*Come on, Man).

“Don’t ‘come on, man’ me. You brought this upon yourself. I mean–” Matt chuckled dryly, lowly, scary. “All you and your brother had to do was just wait the next day for our meeting. But no, you had to go out and throw a tantrum, you had to go out and kidnap a kid that has no meaning to any of us.”

Vladimir scoffs. “No meaning? It always has some meaning to you. Don’t act like you haven’t kidnapped someone’s kid before.”

“And I’m not. I know what I’ve done. But unlike you, when I kidnap someone there’s meaning to it, a purpose. Like when I… ‘picked up’ our DA’s lovely daughter after soccer practice, and said we were good friends. And like any child, she believed it.” Matt smiled just a little before it faded in an instant. “However… she never ended up like that.” He gestures to the body on the floor. “You get what I mean?”

The Russian growls. “3асранец.” (*Asshole)

“You can keep calling me an asshole all you want, but you know I’m right.” Matt sighs. “I just wish your brother was like you.”

Vladimir’s breath caught in his throat. “What did you do?”

“Nothing that your brother didn’t deserve. He did interrupt a very important date I really care about. I’m honestly surprised he found the restaurant I was in.”

Brother? Interrupted? Restaurant? You thought, wondering why this sounds so familiar. 

“What. Did. You. Do?!” Vladimir shouted, baring his teeth as the King of Darkness lips curled into a mischievous grin.

“Like I said, nothing he didn’t deserve.” Matt snaps his fingers again, this time summoning someone over who was holding up a duffle bag. He reaches inside and pulls the brother’s head out by his hair (You had to hold back from gasping loudly at the sight).

Vladimir nearly broke down on the spot. “Anatoly…”

“I really wished he had just called, I wouldn’t have resorted to such manners.” Another sigh. “I even had to lie to my date that I had to go bail him out.”

And that’s when your whole world collapsed.

No. You thought, shaking your head as everything started to click in place.

No. No. This has to be fake. I have to be sleeping. This can’t– But you can’t deny what was plain as day. You didn’t have to see his face to know it was him. I mean, he had a cane you thought was just for fashion, he had shades on that you thought was just part of his look, but you can’t deny that his voice is the same, you can’t deny that the missing pieces had formed a whole. 

But then his name rolled off your lips as you stared with disbelief.

“Matt…” You whispered, and as soon as you did, his head snapped your way. 

Tensing up and pushing yourself further into the shadows, you slapped your hand over your mouth as your heart pounded in your ears.

There’s no way he heard me… right? However, that couldn’t be a coincidence. There’s no way you just mutter his name and then look your way. It’s too much of a coincidence for it not to be true. But does that mean–

Can Matt… hear anything? Does he have abilities like me? You didn’t know what to think as he went back to his conversation with the Russian mob leader.

His perplexed expression changed back to the grin as he continued to taunt the man before him. “Now do you understand why people don’t cross me?”

“You’re a monster.” Vladimir replies, voice filled with venom. “You’re a fucking monster.” 

“I know.”

“You won’t get away with this. When people hear about what you’ve done, there’s no way the others are going to let this go.” The Russian clenched his fists. “My people, even if I’m gone, they’re not going to put up with this. Same with the Doctors, S.I.L.K., the Chinese, the Japanese–”

“The Japanese?” Matt said with a laugh. “Oh, they work for me.” And he almost laughed again when he saw his prey’s face pale again in shock. “Yeah. You see, they raised me. The Hand taught me everything I know, and helped me rise to this position.”

What does he mean he was raised by the Japanese? You managed to think after slowly coming over your shock. You knew his mother died in the accident that blinded him, and he mentioned his dad pasted as well, and–

Wait…

Matt never told me when his father died. Does that mean he was young enough to be taken in by someone? Someone like… You couldn’t even finish the sentence. You’ve heard bits and pieces about The Hand on the street. You knew they were hardcore, highly skilled and basically an assassination group; People you didn’t want to mess with.

So does that make Matt… an assassin? 

“You really have power in everything.” Vladimir said, head hanging low.

“Pretty much.” Matt said, proudly.

“Then I guess… I’ve got nothing else to do than follow you.” 

“Follow me?” The blind man scoffed. “Oh, Vladimir, you lost your chance at that. You’ve already proven to me that you have no loyalty, that you only think about yourself.”

“Mr. Murdock–”

Matt cut him off by holding his hand up, and staying quiet for just a moment. “I really wanted to like you Vladimir, that hard head of yours I could have used for so many things but…” He sighs and stays silent again. 

.

.

.

And then you watch him plunge his sword into the side of Vladimir’s head.

Your pupils shrunk and you felt all the air get sucked out of you. You–

Matt slowly pulls his weapon out, letting his bodyguards drop the body to the floor. He just stares again, almost like he was basking in what he just did.

Oh, my god… he just… Then you watched him sheath the blade back into his cane and says,

“Kill the rest.” 

And that’s when you knew you had to move. Using all the strength you had left to bolt away as Matt’s men started firing at whoever was left of the Russian mob.

You’re not sure how you’re even going to get home, but fuck…

.

.

.

There’s no way in hell you’re going to stick around here.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

You practically crawled to the bathroom when you got back to the apartment, black spots started dancing as you ripped open the first aid kit. You shake off your top, turning the shower on for a few seconds to remove the excess blood.

.

“Matty… would you still be friends with me if I was a freak?” You asked him as the two of you sat on the fire escape of his apartment. The question has been gnawing at you for quite some time, and you weren’t sure how to express it so.

“A freak?” Matt said, confused. “Why would you ask me that?”

.

The pole didn’t go all the way through, which was good, but damn… that was going to leave a nasty scar when it did heal. You had to bite on a rolled up magazine as you started sewing up the wound, the pain keeping you awake.

.

“Well…” You nervously shifted your weight, looking in his direction. “What if I told you… that my parents are special?”

“Special? In what way?

.

You placed the gauze over the wound, then bandaging it up. You then cursed as you pushed yourself to a stand, running your blood soaked hands under the water, watching it swirl down the drain.

.

“Like… what if they had abilities? Like superheroes?” 

“Like superheroes?” Matt perked up a little. “Do they?”

“It’s just a question.” You shrug and look away. “Would you be okay if I was a freak too?” 

.

Your eyes shifted from the bathroom to your kitchen, remembering something. You flicked off the faucet, wobbly walking towards the very thing that’s been peaking your curiosity for the longest time.

The vase of roses.

With a shaky hand you grabbed the note, opening up to reread the one sentence on the paper.

.

“I wouldn’t mind.” Matt said, with a smile. “I’d think it’d be cool.” 

You blink in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah. You would be like an actual superhero. Like the ones you see in the comic books. I’ll admit though, I’d be kind of jealous if you did.”

“How come?”

.

Now you were back in your room, rummaging around for the outfit you wore to work the other day. You know you still have it, you have to. You needed the chance to compare the two.

.

“Because–” Now it was his turn to shift in his seat. “My best friend has powers and I don’t. Everyone would be in awe with you but with me? Nothing.”

You frown at his words. “Don’t say that. I think it would be nice to have someone different than me.” Then smiles. “Keeps me from not going completely crazy.”

He chuckles. “Well it would be my job to keep you from going nuts. I wouldn’t want you to be the villain of the story.”

You smirk a little at that, scooting closer. “Is that a promise?”

.

Your (Y/E/C) eyes widened with disbelief for the millionth time tonight. In one hand you had the note from the vase, the other? It was the ad from Nelson and Murdock, the ones they were going to pass out, spread the word. 

The one that had their penmanship on the very bottom.

A perfect–

Perfect–

Match.

.

You held out your pinky. “Promise me. Promise me that as long as we’re together, we won’t become villains in this world. Will always be each other’s light.”

He stays quiet for a second, like he’s thinking. Then he raises an eyebrow, saying, “Superpowered or not?”

“Superpowered or not.”

“Okay. Deal.” He interlocks his pinky with yours. “I promise I won’t do anything crazy while you’re here.”

“Thank you, Matty. I’ll hold you to it.”

.

You snagged everything that was off the counter, marching over to the window, ripping it open. Without even looking you just tossed it out, letting it drop and shattered on the dumpster lid below.

You just couldn’t believe it as you sank to your knees.

You just couldn’t believe it.

You just couldn’t believe it.

You just couldn’t believe it.

You just…

.

.

.

.

Couldn’t believe your whole life was in a lie.

(TBC)

-Taglist Is Open-

@utterlynuts @etanordoesbullsh1t @mattmurdocksstarlight @l3xiluve @lunaticgurly @margoo0 @swift-enchanted @athenniene

@up-in-space-reading @itwasthereaminuteago @lazyxsquirrel @yeonalie @scoliobean @kayden666

@nkmblackhyuuga @nk1023 @queenofnigthdarkness

[gxthicwxrm]

Without Him- m. murdock x reader

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader

Word Count: 784 (it's alittle drabble thing)

Warning: Angst, semi happy ending, cursing, cheating, mentions of She-Hulk(show and character)

Enjoy!!

---

You did what?" Your anger is overflowing as your eyes glare a whole into the man in front of you. "Actually, I don't care. J-Just get out of my way." Keys in hand, you swiftly move towards the door of Matt's apartment with tears burning down your face. Quickly, the vigilante intercepts your path, arms reaching out to hold you as he pleads. 

"N-No, please. Let me explain. I-I don't know why I did it. But I promise it will never happen again. You mean the-" 

"Don't. Don't stand here and lie to me, Murdock. We both know this bullshit you're spewing wouldn't hold up in court and it ain't holding up here. Let me leave." With your hands on his chest, you push him back, failing epicly as Matt uses this opportunity to grab your hands, thumbs caressing your knucks in what once was a welcomed sign of affection is now like razors dragging across your skin. 

"Please! Please don't leave. It'll never happen, I swear to God. It was an accident, it didn't mean anything." Matt drops to his knees, begging with your hands in his, still. Unable to look at your lover before you,, your eyes drift to the ceiling as the neon lights slowly paint the room in different colors. You couldn't let yourself fall into this trap. He made his choice, now you have to make yours. But can you make it?

"It meant enough for you to go back to L.A. to fuck her again. At least when she found out about us, she had the decency to tell me about you two, something that you couldn't do." Anger dries your tears with the flame that erupted in you as everything crashes into place around you, making your decision perfectly clear.

"I can change. I love you! I don't care about her. It'll never happen again, just let me prove it to you. Please, give me a second chance, please. I don't want to lose you." Tears stain his owe cheeks as he faces your direction. A smile breaks out across your face as a laugh erupts from your throat, loud and hysterical. Fear settled in Matt's heart as he watched the girl he loved, the girl he fought so hard for, shatter because of him.  

"It's so funny, Matt. You spend so much time trying to save everyone around you. Frank, Claire, Karen. Foggy, Hell's Kitchen. But you couldn't even save your own relationship. You couldn't save us. And it was never Fisk or his little copycat. It was never The Hand or Elektra or any of the other criminals you swore would harm us. It was YOU! The great hero, Daredevil." Shaking your head, you refuse to let the tears welling in your eyes fall. 

"Y/N, I love you. I'm so s-"

"No. I'm tired of your excuses. You don't get to lie about a "work trip" for a case and spend the whole time fucking She-Hulk. You can't even tell me why. What did I do wrong? Why did you have to do this to us? Fuck you! Fuck you!" Sobs crash through your body like a tsunami that leaves you broken and wanting to run. 

"Please-" Matt moved to hold you, but you flinched away, scared if he touched you that you'd fall into him and stay. You can't do that, not after this. Not now.

"We are done. I am leaving. Karen and Foggy will come by to get the rest of my things." Stunned, you dodge him making your way to the door. Before leaving, you look back at him now standing and crying coming toward you but stops when he sees calmness coming from you. 

"I hope you can save yourself, Matt. I really do. For your son's sake." With your one hand on the cool metal of the door knob and the other against your stomach. The last bit of Matthew Murdock was his shocked expression as you shut the door, stepping into the hallway. 

"You told him?" Karen asks as soon as you get into the car. Tears still flowing, you nod. Staring straight ahead she nods before pulling off towards your doctor's office. 

"Well, let's go see how healthy this little booger is." Karen giggles while doing a little wiggle dance. A smile cracks across your face as you watch your best friend be ecstatic to be an Aunt.

Maybe you can do this on your own. Maybe you can be okay without him.

Part Two

[cellophaine]

This is my experience meeting Charlie today at Toronto Fanexpo!

When it was my turn to get an autograph from him, he said hi to me with a big smile on his face and gave me a fist bump!! I was so flustered that I was speechless and I did the first thing that came to my mind, which was freaking out externally by screaming soundlessly into my hand 🥲 he saw that and smiled even more. He asked for my name and then asked me how I was doing today and I said “better now that I get to meet you” and I stuttered a little bit answering him 😭. I went on and said I appreciated his portrayal of Daredevil and I lowkey trailed off a little bit because I was so nervous I forgot what I was going to say but he caught on and said “aww thank you so much love god bless you” 😫. Then he looked down at my copy of Zdarsky’s run and I said “I hope you don’t mind signing a newer run”. And he said he didn’t mind and flipped through my book!!!!! I asked for his opinion on it and he said he liked it! And then he looked over to the pens and said “what colour should I choose? Silver?” I said yes because it would stand out on the cover. Then he asked me if I wanted him to write my name, of course I said yes and he signed my book. He looked at me again and put up his hand so I could high five him and I did it for a little bit until he pulled his hand away and gave my friend who I came with a fist bump 😭 I did the “screaming soundlessly into my hand” thing again because I freaked out again and he told me to enjoy my day at Fanexpo. I thanked him and said “I’ll see you later for the photo op” then continued “I promise I won’t freak out like that again” and then he laughed and said something else. What he said at the end was blurry to me because in my head at that moment there was only one thing and it was I touched his hand 😭😭😭

Later on at the photo op, I walked to him and said hi and he said “hey you didn’t do that thing this time”. HE REMEMBERED Y’ALL HE REMEMBERED 😭😩😫 he pulled me into a side hug for the photo. He was so SOFT and NICE and he smelled GOOD. The flash went off and I was about to move away from him so the people behind me can take their photos. But he held me still and asked them to take the photo again because he wasn’t ready. So we stayed put like that the whole time when the photographer and the person listened to something on their walkie. Then they took the picture again and I said thank you to Charlie and he said thank you with my name and god bless.

This is as many details as my disorganized brain which was overwhelmed by the amount of people at Fanexpo can managed. Charlie really took his time with his fans, made conversations and I could really feel the care he has for his fans 😭

Here is the photo I had with him!

I walked out with two prints because he wanted to retake the photo! When I walked out, a girl scanned the barcode on my photos and told me I was allowed only one. But then she talked to someone else and he said it was okay for me to keep both!

Here are some more photos I took when I was in line. He was so smiley 🥹

[skylarmoon71]

Matt Murdock (Daredevil) - Chapter 4

Since that night he would drop by just to check in.

You couldn’t believe that you’d actually befriended a vigilante. A part of you wanted to tell Matt and Foggy, but the danger it could pose for not just him, but them, made you hesitant. So for the time being you decided that it was best to keep it to yourself. 

This particular night he was seated on the floor, legs folded. 

“Your friends sound like great guys.” 

You nod, chewing on your gummy bears. 

“They are! Foggy is by far the funniest guy you will ever meet in your life. Ever since we met he’s always looked out for me. He even turned down a date with a hot girl to look after me when I was sick last year. If you know Foggy, that’s the ultimate sign of love.” 

He smiles. 

“It sounds like he cares about you.” 

“Mhmm, he’s like a brother to me.” 

He knew he shouldn’t tip the boat, but he couldn’t help but ask. He was curious about your opinion of him. 

“What about your other friend?” 

“Mmm, he’s great too.” 

You fidget with the snack now, looking down at your lap. He can spot the hesitance, so now he’s intrigued by the reason. 

“It seems like there might be more to it than that.” 

You twiddle the treat in your hand. 

“It’s nothing bad it’s just..sometimes he comes in with these bruises. Matt is blind you see, so sometimes he gets hurt, but he won’t ask for help. I know he doesn’t want to be a burden to me or Foggy, but we’re his friends. I want to ask him, offer help but I’m scared that I might upset him and if he got mad and stopped talking to me I’d be miserable.” 

You lower your head, and he nods in understanding. 

“If he’s as great as you say, then he won’t be upset if you’re trying to look out for him. Maybe just talk to him, he sounds like a reasonable person.” 

“You’re right, Matt is nice, if I just talk to him, I’m sure he’ll appreciate it. Thanks Mr. Daredevil. You should really become a therapist, you’re a good listener. Well, I guess given your side job it might be a bit difficult huh?” 

He can’t help but smile. 

“Yeah, it might be.” 

You grin, throwing a gummy bear and he catches it easily. 

“Geez sometimes your reflexes are insane. I would have missed that. Look.” 

You threw one in the air with the intention to catch it in your mouth, but it bounces off your nose and onto the floor. 

“See!!” 

He starts laughing. 

“You just need to focus a little better, watch.” 

He threw his own in the air and with one easy move to the left, it dropped right into his mouth. 

“Easy.” 

He chewed and you just glared at him playfully. 

“You’re like a ninja, I don’t think it counts.”

“It sounds like you’re a sore loser.” 

“Am not!!” 

It was nice, being the one he seemed to confide in. Those nights were great. Just having someone to talk to. The following morning you meet Matt in the library. With Daredevil’s advice in mind, you walked right up to him. 

“Hey Matt.” 

He turned at your call, a smile stretching on his face. 

“Hey.”

You could do it, all you have to do is ask if he needs help. 

“I can do this, I can do this!” 

With the pep talk, you finally get the words out. 

“I-I’m worried about you. You’ve been getting hurt a lot and I just wanted to let you know that if you ever need help, Foggy and I are here for you.” You hoped that you’d gotten your point across without somehow offending him. The easy smile he gave you made your anxieties just wash away. 

“I appreciate it. Since you’re offering, I wanted to check out that sandwich place across the street. Do you mind?” He held out his hand and you nod excitedly. 

“Of course, let’s go!” 

Linking arms, you walked away with him, making a mental reminder to thank Daredevil for his sound advice. Turns out vigilantes were good at more than just kicking criminal butt. 

[1rsoldiersince2012]

Bound by Law (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Words: 4371 (chapter 36)

Summary:

You and Matt met in the courtroom. Now, you may think that Matt was a knight in shining armour and defended you in the name of all United States laws, but that was not the case. Matt was totally destroying your client, and you wanted to tear him into pieces right then and right there, because with Murdock as your rival, your head is on the firm's plate with each case. Did Matt care? No, he only cared about bringing justice, he was a human-machine, driven by the need to bring righteousness no matter the cost. Or was he just that? What happens when you get involved in Fisk's business and Daredevil's lies against your will?

WE ARE COOKING YA'LL

36. Interlude

"This doesn't change anything, Ben."

"Except now we know who your king of diamonds is." Foggy adds to Karen's words and looks at Ben, standing in the the middle of the office.

"You see the news? Everything's changed. Fisk has gotten out in front of being dragged into the spotlight. My editor thinks he's the Second Coming. Hell, the whole city does." Ben pulls out a fresh newspaper, Fisk proudly occupying the whole front page.

"So, we just... We keep digging."

"I've been doing that. Internet went from nothing on Fisk to filled with three-hanky stories about a poor little fat kid from Hell's Kitchen. Abandoned by his father when he was 12. Mother died a year later. Now look at him. Boot straps and a big dream." Ben exhales loudly, rubbing his forehead.

"Somebody knows something. It's just a matter of asking the right people the right questions in the right tone of voice." Foggy says, sure of his words.

"Yeah, that's how you get yourself hurt." Ben raises his eyebrows theatrically.

"That's what I keep telling them." Matt silently slips inside the office upon Ben's last words. "Maybe they'll listen to you."

"Ben Urich, Matt Murdock. Attorney at Why the Hell Bother." Karen introduces the two of them with a hint of annoyance.

"Mr. Murdock." Ben shakes his hand.

"Matt." Matt corrects Ben, hearing your slow steps outside in the corridor.

You return to the office, moments later, noticing a new face in the middle of the room. Extending your arm, you intently look at his face, "I know you from somewhere."

"Ben Urich, New York Bulletin." He takes your hand, eyes shining in a weird way, as if he knew more about you than you did. Taking in your rather disheveled appearance. 

"Y/n." You let go of his hand first, "You were that journalist in courtroom when I had my case televised."

"Yes, and I gotta say, it was a pretty damn good case." He cracks a smile, yet you don't show any signs of appreciation.

"You also wrote about the attack on me at Hogarth, Chao and Benowitz. Could've tried to write at least a believable amout of lies." You say, watching his reaction.

His smile doesn't fall, on the contrary, it only gets bigger, "Well, in my line of work, that's a compliment.

Foggy shakes his head at the interaction and brings back the previous topic, "My partner thinks we should be pursuing this through the legal system."

"A lot safer that way." Ben agrees.

"Well, why don't we all just crawl under the covers, then?" Karen ignites again, and you close your eyes in hopes of keeping your mouth shut this time, already catching up with the talk.

"No, Karen-" Matt begins softly, only to be cut short by Karen.

"Well, I'm sorry, but if Fisk is really behind everything that has happened, then we need to do something."

"If we were the only ones after him, I'd tend to agree." Ben says mysteriously, "Friend of yours came to see me the other night the man in the mask."

"Terrorist cop-killer." Foggy repeats Fisk's previous words, and you can't help but agree with Fisk here. Your heart drops and face becomes even paler than it was since the day started.

"Says he was framed." Ben adds nonchalantly, turning around to catch everyone's expressions. Matt turns his back away from the group.

"I could say I'm Captain America, but it doesn't put wings on my head." Foggy rolls his eyes, only to be shut by Karen.

"What did he want?"

"Same thing we do... expose Fisk. I printed this from a thumb drive he gave me." Ben hands Karen a bunch of papers. She snatches them like a hawk and hurries to sit behind her desk. In the meantime, you lean on the nearby wall, feeling that the dizziness from lack of sleep and not eating normal food is finally catching up with you. 

"Oh, my God!" Karen exclaims and starts flipping through the pages. 

"Told me Fisk was behind the bombings and shooting those cops said he owns half the police that they helped him take down the Russians." Ben continues, looking around the room again, and takes a notice that you're not yourself today. He remembers vividly that day when he sat in the courtroom during your televised case - you were almost glowing and full of life. Now it seemed to him that you were either sick or angry or depressed.

"But I don't understand. If you have all of this, then..." Karen blabbers again, only this time Matt interrupts her. 

"Hearsay. Can't print any of it without corroboration, can you?"

"He could just be throwing smoke. I mean, he just killed Detective Blake." Foggy adds, much to Matt's displease.

"Said Blake's partner Hoffman did it, probably on Fisk's orders. But yeah, it occurred to me." Ben nods.

"You could talk to Hoffman." Matt pouts in thought, and you almost find it amusing in this kind of situation.

"Tried. He's in the wind. Or bottom of the river. Either way."Ben shrugs, now completely helpless. 

"He just shrugged." Foggy says to Matt.

"Wait, what about the Union Allied money? Is there a way that we can tie it directly to Fisk?" Karen rises from her chair. 

"Maybe. According to the Mask, a man named, uh, Leland Owlsley runs the books. But since getting roughed up by him, Owlsley's been surrounded by Fisk's security. Can't get anywhere near him." Ben shakes his head, "Same goes with, uh, James Wesley, the guy you said hired you to defend Healy." 

Upon the mention of Wesley, you feel two sets of eyes staring at you. "What?" You say defensively, "I'm not in contact with him anymore." Crossing your arms, you turn your eyes towards the window, avoiding making eye contact with anyone in the room. Ben raises an eyebrow at Karen, but she only grimaces slightly, not giving any answer to his wordless question. Matt senses something in your voice, perhaps an underlying lie that he can't put a finger on just yet.

"Look, the Mask came to Ben for help. And I don't care how rich Fisk is, nobody can totally erase their past. I mean, somewhere out there, there has to be a piece of paper, a witness... the truth."

"What about Confederated Global? The suit that hired us to defend Healy standing right next to Fisk when he gave his big speech." Foggy looks at you again, only to find you staring with a hard look on your face out the window. 

"I looked into that. According to FCC filings, Confed Global's where Fisk gets most of his reported income."

"All right, let's play this out. If Fisk is connected to Confed Global, that means he's involved in Westmeyer-Holt Contracting, which Westmeyer-Holt is strong-arming tenants out of their rent-controlled apartments." Matt gestures with his hands slightly, pulling back your attention. For whatever crazy reason, he felt sorry that you were put into this position by Wesley now. After your last burst of emotions, Karen felt distrustful towards you, but in Matt's mind that was understandable reaction.

"Um, they were hired by a guy named Armand Tully." Karen quickly adds.

"The slumlord?" Ben makes sure he heard it right.

"Landman and Zack say he's on vacation on an island that no one can pronounce, where they use coconuts as phones." Foggy shrugs, and you wonder if he's still in contact with Marci. Foggy catches your curious look and feels his cheeks burning.

"Another connection in the wind." Ben hangs his head low, earning an apologetic look from Karen.

"Westmeyer-Holt to Confed to Fisk. We pull that thread, see what it unravels." Matt begins circling around the room.

"Still not sure about this mask guy." Foggy says and you agree with him with a hum.

"He didn't hurt Ben and he didn't hurt me. I'll take the Devil of Hell's Kitchen over Fisk any day. Plus, he kicks ass." Karen says, eyes clashing with you. 

"Karen, you know, maybe refrain from these talks in a law office, or someone might think that you're ready to take his place in jail." You smile at her sourly. Karen bites her lip, clearly not satisfied with the way you put her in her place. "He's a vigilante after all." 

Ben nods to himself again. Your frustration was justifiable, he knew what it felt like to lose a well-paid job and start a new chapter of life. Maybe life wasn't treating you right now.

"Well, if he's such a badass, why did he come to Ben? Why not just take Fisk down himself?" Foggy silently agrees with you. 

"Maybe he knows there's some roads you can't come back from." Ben replies mysteriously.

*** 

You look around, noticing the interior of the church. Clinton Church. You've never been here before. Your parents were not too religious to regularly go to church, so it didn't pass on you either. God? You didn't believe in God, because in the end, you saved yourself, not God. He didn't save you, he didn't save anyone. God was just a mythical creation, made up so that in the worst moments, people wouldn't lose their hope. God didn't mean anything to you, because if he was real, if he was righteous, you wouldn't have to deal with all these injustices everyday. If he was real, the world would've been a better place. But it wasn't. Never going to be.

The lights were lit on only at the front, only near the altar, and you catch yourself looking at the cross and Jesus on it. Was he even real? Or was he only a copy of someone else's imagination? Every cross was different, unique, yet everyone imagined the same man crucified, same man hanging his head to the side, same man with a woven crown of thorns, sticking into his forehead like needles. If he was real, in your mind he was stupid. Sacrificing yourself for the sins of the people? They were not worth it, not then and surely not now. Maybe he was real. Maybe he was a saint, but he was also blind. Blind to notice that humanity wasn't ready to understand his sacrifice, blind to think that it still meant something thousands of years later. Blind like Lady Justice. 

Involuntary, you shiver. The air was rather cool inside the church and somehow, not even your coat was keeping you warm. Turning to your right, you glance at Foggy, eyes cast down into his lap, fingers nervously playing with the hem of his coat. Movement in the front catches your attention and you see Father Lantom emerge from the shadows. He looks at all four of you, eyes lingering on a new face here - you. Feeling uneasy under the intense gaze, you bow your head down, almost in shame. You've never liked priests in general, because they looked at you as if they knew who you were under that facade. Father Lantom notices the change in your face and clear his throat. 

You only hear half of the things that he's saying; distracted by the way sunlight falls though the multicoloured windows and Karen's silent sniffling, you felt like an intruder here. Father continued talking about God, the fragility of life and the values of believing. None of this made sense to you, so you distracted your thoughts from the reason that brought all four of you here. Wesley. That bastard really sugar-coated you before throwing you unprepared to the lions. And now he was proudly marching behind Fisk on live television? You felt sick again, the need to throw up returned, yet there was nothing in your stomach the whole day, and the acidic aftertaste returned. 

"Shall we go?" Foggy nudges your arm gently, and you look at him wide-eyed for a good second. 

"Yeah." You whisper, and get up, letting everyone pass through, side lining with Matt. Father Lantom walks behind the two of you, clearly in thought. Matt has mentioned a woman before, he spoke so fondly of her that Lantom was in no doubt that Matt fell in love. He now wondered if that woman was you, or Karen; but Karen's name has been said when Matt talked about the friendships that he made. So it left him with one answer - you.

"Excuse me, but I don't think I've seen you in church before." Father Lantom comes in between you and Matt, and gives a warm smile, almost making you grimace at his comment. You knew it bound to happen, these type of things were always inevitable.

"Um, yeah, no, I'm not really a churchgoer." You shrug slowly, turning your eyes away from his piercing blue ones. 

"Not religious or not enough time?" Father smiles again, so kindly, that you feel the urge to pour your heart out to him. 

There was that feeling again, feeling that he can read you like an open book. "A bit of both." You say at first, then feeling like it's not a good place for lying, add, "mostly the first one."

"Ah. Well, Matthew here has been caught up in his work, he never visits me these days."

"Father..." Matt begins, feeling exposed. Father knows about his little nightly rendezvous, so it shouldn't really surprise him that he doesn't go to church any more.

"Oh, really?" You ask, stealing a glance at Matt, then crack a small smile, "blame me for this one Father, since he employed me, we've been very busy with work. And... I'm not a particularly good influence on him." 

Matt feels his cheeks heating up.

"Really? Well, Matthew, I'll take it to consideration for your next confession. Whenever that may be."

"Yeah." Matt mutters, thankful to finally go out into the fresh air. 

Nearing the small graveyard that was close to the church, you notice the casket next to the grave. Shivers run down your spine, head full of unpleasant memories and images, but you try to calm yourself, blaming it on the wind. All four of you stand at the end of the grave, watching the graveyard worker lower the casket into the ground slowly, accompanied by the final words that Father is saying to Mrs Cardenas, and almost instinctively, your hand finds Matt's by his side, slipping your fingers between his cold ones. The emotions run wild through your head, your blood, but you only close your eyes, focusing on the warmth that you felt when Matt squeezes your hand back. Opening your eyes, you turn to your right briefly, noticing a single tear rolling down Matt's cheek - so different from the sobbing beside you from Foggy and Karen. You glance at your hands tightly pressed together, so almost perfectly fitting, and only now realize just how close he was standing from the beginning. 

Father closes the Bible, and a quick glance at Matt and you, answers his questions. The way you looked at him told a million things, but most importantly, it told Father that Matt's feeling were not one-sided. 

*** 

"I've been such an asshole to her the first time we met." You scoff, hiding your face behind an almost empty whiskey glass. Foggy and Karen share a look, one that you wouldn't be able to decipher, even if you noticed it in the first place. "I guess they really turn you into a robot in HCB."

"Well, I know for a fact that people turn worse in Landman and Zack." Matt replies, drinking as well. If tonight was about drowning sorrows, he was making sure he fulfilled that.

Karen turns her face towards the TV and her eyes widen immediately. Foggy nudges your elbow, making you turn to look at the screen, and the need to throw up returns again. "Hey, Josie, could you turn that up?"

"No, I never had the pleasure of meeting Ms. Cardenas. I only recently took possession of her building." Fisk blabbers on the screen again, and you notice Wesley standing behind him. How the hell did the press find out about Elena so quickly?

"How do you respond to reports that you knew the tenement was unsafe?" A reporter asks, but Fisk doesn't move a single muscle in protest.

"That is accurate." He replies, taking a pause after the sentence. "That's why we offered a substantial sum to Ms. Cardenas and her neighbours. To help them relocate." He looks around at all the press, Wesley scanning the crowd like a hawk. "We should never let good people get swallowed up by this city. I mourn this woman's death."

You loudly scoff to yourself, and the whole table of Nelson and Murdock find themselves internally agreeing with you. 

"Didn't have to happen. It should've..." Fisk's words get interrupted by Foggy's ringing phone. "Her passing is a symptom of a larger disease..." Foggy fishes his phone and leaves the table. "- infecting all of us. Disease of fear..." The TV glitches for a couple of times, only pieces of sentence are heard. "...fear of bombings, fear of cop killings. Fear of a masked psychopath." 

Matt feels his blood boiling in his alcohol-filled veins.

"We shouldn't let people like that take our city from us. We need to stand together. Let them know that they will fail... because we believe we can make a difference." Fisk's words make you wonder if he has learned the speech beforehand and if Wesley wrote it. After all, he was doing all the butt-kissing. " 'Cause they are cowards! Afraid of stepping out of the shadows. Afraid of standing up for people like Mrs. Cardenas."

"Mr. Fisk, how does this affect the upcoming benefit?" Someone behind the camera shouts.

Wesley steps up into the spotlight, "That will be all. Thank you." Hearing his voice again after days of radio silence caused your anger to spike up.  "No more questions."

"What can we do about this psycho..." another man begins, only to be cut short by a commercial break.

"Jesus, he almost sounds like he means it." Karen is the first one to break the silence.

"I think he does." Matt answers shortly.

Karen scoffs, "And he's calling the man in the mask a psycho?" With this one, you agreed. The man in the mask was a psycho to you, and Karen's enthusiasm to constantly talk about how great he is, sometimes made you think that she was madly in love with the vigilante. "I hope they trace what happened to Elena right to his doorstep."

"He'd never expose himself like that. Plus, half the force is probably in his pocket. Well, then, let's pray the Mask gets his hands on him. Knocks his goddamn head off."

"You religious, Karen?" Matt suddenly asks, but the topic doesn't pick up your attention.  

"My parents were. That's probably why I'm not. You?" 

"Catholic." Matt answers shortly. You receive a fresh whiskey glass and down it in one go, relaxing your muscles when it burns your throat. 

"Does it help? With things like this?" 

"Not today." Matt moves his lips slighly, which looks like a half of a grin. "I think I've had enough. Tell Foggy I'll see him in the morning." You pick up Matt's last words and turn to look at him already getting up to leave.

"Wait, I'm going too." You gently stop him by grabbing his wrist and his whole body goes stiff.

"Hey, Matt. If there is a God and if he cares at all about about any of us Fisk will get what he deserves." Karen says to Matt while you pull out a 100 dollar bill and give it to Josie. "You have to believe that."

"I do." He replies, still lingering next to the table while you put on your coat. 

"Tell Foggy..." you begin, sliding your hand on Matt's elbow a little too comfortably for Karen's liking, but she just puts you down for being drunk, "tell him nothing, I'm an independent woman. Lights out!" You say and quickly disappear in the street. 

Matt says nothing. His mind was occupied by other things, until you decided to grab a taxi together, but eventually agreed to swing by his place. Why? Because Matt insisted on ordering a takeout, adding "I don't think you ate proper food today at all" in a fatherly tone.

*** 

Foggy's new case was interesting for about 30 minutes, while you two shared a huge pizza. The whole time you avoided acknowledging the obvious, not talking about Elena or Fisk at all costs. Before Matt introduced beer to the conversation, which got you quite tipsy and relaxed; if you're not counting the alcohol consumed at Josie's.  At first it was light talk, jokes, giggling and laughing, trying to lighten up the sour mood, until you felt your stomach hurt, but then, as usual, the conversation turned to more serious topics.

Matt spins the bootle in his hand lazily, legs stretched out on the coffee table, as the laughter dies, his face becomes serious, maybe even curious and you wait for his question. "So, what was that thing with you and Karen?"

"What thing?"

"The thing... You know... Shouting one."

"Oh, that." You take a long sip of the beer, trying to delay answering for as long as possible. "I just don't like others in my business, that's all."

"Why's that?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Well it's quite a long story... But in short, some guy almost fucked up mine and Pug's internship."

"Don't leave me hanging now." He shoots a shy grin.

"Well, we got lucky with that internship, very lucky actually." You sigh, stretching your legs on Matt's coffee table as well. "And Dave was there too."

"Oof, I hate Dave already." Matt huffs a laugh, "wait, who's Pug?"

"My college best friend. So, anyway, we basically won the lottery with our internship at Latham & Wakins, this is still one of the best law firms in LA, and only very few students get to intern there. Of course, our professor wanted to send as many students as he possibly could to the firm, mainly caring about his own reputation as the best prof in the whole university, but I know that he also wanted us to succeed. So Pug and I, we get internships, we're over the moon, we go out, drink like there's no tomorrow, and then we bump into one guy from our classes." You clear your throat, taking a sip again.

"Dave, right?" Matt asks, with slow movements loosening his tie. 

"Yeah. So he's a total shit-talker, we're absolutely wasted, and somehow he talks us into getting him into Latham & Wakins. Next day, we go to the offices, they walk us around, introduce us to the bosses and blah blah, and this fucker, he befriends our boss. Not only befriends, he sleeps with her." You raise your eyebrows for a dramatic effect.

"No way." Matt lets out a laugh, going to bring more beer, still paying attention to your talk.

"Guess what happened then. He takes all of our cases. Our prof starts getting angry, he calls the firm's boss, I remember this, we were smoking outside his office when he made the call. So, he calls her, he's like 'my two brightest students are interning at your firm, and three weeks later you still haven't given them a case?'. I have no idea what's happening on the other side of the phone, but our prof is just pissed, he smokes two cigarettes during the whole phone call time, and let me tell you, the guy hasn't smoked in 20 years. He says that he fixed it and we can return to Latham & Wakins. We go there the same day, and we still don't get a fucking case. At this point, I'm fuming, I barge right into our boss's office, and there was Dave. Fucking her on her desk."

"No-" Matt gasps, handing you a new bottle and sitting a bit closer on the sofa than before. 

"I wanted to forget that image for years, and I still can't." You shiver dramatically. "They catch me and Pug in the parking lot, beg us to not expose them and promise that we will get all the best new cases. Of course, we agree, holding it against them that we can and will expose their little affair if it's necessary, because she was a married woman. All's good, we get full marks for our internship, we get paid more than we could've imagined, but just as we step out with our internship documents, we call our prof, and expose that bitch."

"She got fired?"

"Not only that, she's suspended from practising law for five years, and Dave was kicked out of university as soon as he returned." 

"That's one hell of a ride." Matt laughs. "Now it kind of makes sense."

"Pug's the only person I trust with my work, he doesn't seek glory at the cost of others."

"What about me?" Matt's lips perk up into a smirk.

"You don't seem like the Dave-type." You smile warmly, noticing the distance between the two of you. "Although, I don't know you long enough to check that out."

"Not long enough? It feels like ages since I beat you in court." 

"Yeah, and now I work for you." You laugh, earning another smile from Matt. 

Matt suddenly changes the topic, "You know what Elena told me one time when you stepped out to smoke?" This immediately gains your attention.

"What?"

"She said that she has never seen someone so in love, but then there were you." His lips twich slightly. "But it sounded way better in Spanish."

"Why did she tell you that?" You smile, slightly furrowing your eyebrows. Being drunk right now was no help at all.

"She wanted me to know that since... you know, I can't really see those things."

"Oh." You sigh, not pulling your eyes away from Matt, "She was a very smart woman."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, she wasn't wrong." You blurt out, covering your mouth with your hand. 

Matt stretches his hand out, his fingers brush against yours, and he gently takes your hand, touching your nails. "What color are they?" He softly asks, scooting closer.

"My nails?" You ask, trying to hide your surprise that he left with his touch. He nods, expectantly. "Red."

"Red like what?"

You furrow your eyebrows momentarily, but then you understand exactly what Matt meant. "Uh, it's dark red, almost like a chilli pepper or... Blood." His touch makes your head dizzy. "Or your glasses. I hate when you wear them." Feeling bold out of the blue, you take off his glasses, "your eyes are very pretty." 

"Can I do something?" Matt asks, turning the talk away from himself once again.

"Depends."

[mattmurdocksscars]

prompt #8 for matt murdock??

Here you go, Nonnie!

Matt slammed his shoulder against the door for the third time before finally stepping back with a frustrated sigh.

“Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…” He said, frustration seeping into his voice.

"Great. Just what I wanted. Trapped in a tiny closet with you." Matt's eyes rolled heavenward and he huffed.

"You say that like I did this on purpose."

"Well if you hadn't dragged me in here in the first place. Why did you even pull me into here?" You snapped.

"I was trying to keep us from being spotted!" He hissed.

"Oh, yeah? And what? Now we're stuck in this stupid, tiny closet until someone stumbles upon us? Better hope it's Jessica or Luke or one of the others. Unless this would all be for naught!" You hissed back.

What you wouldn't admit to Matt is that you hated being in small spaces. And this small space was made all the smaller by Matt's ridiculously large frame. He may have been lean, but he still took up a fair amount of space.

But you didn't have to admit it. Matt could sense it in the way you chewed your lip. He could sense the increase in sweat and the abrupt uptick in your heart rate. He furrowed his brow as he took in all the signs you were giving off and sighed.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't realize this closet would be this small or that the door would lock. What can I do to make it better?" That took you aback. It was no mystery that you and Matt didn't get along. So for him to admit he was wrong and offer to help, it sent butterflies through your stomach and you didn't like that one bit. So you did what you did best.

"What? The Daredevil apologizing and admitting he was wrong? Clearly the world really is ending!"

"Would you just-" Matt cut himself off with a frustrated sigh. He should have known better. Deciding not to entertain your pettiness, he remained silent and you followed his lead.

Except the silence let you think about your current situation and that just made you more and more nervous. By now, Matt could hear your tiny gasps of air and decided he had to do something to calm you down.

"Hey. Look at me. It's okay. I know we're somewhere cramped but we're going to get out of here. I'm gonna ask again, what can I do?" You hesitated, knowing what could help but afraid to ask for it.

"Just... don't laugh okay? I swear, if you laugh-"

"I won't. I promise."

"... can you hold me? It's just, if I can put my head on your chest I can listen to your heartbeat and if I can listen to your heartbeat, it'll be easier to match my breathing to yours." You said quietly. Matt shuffled for a second and you thought he'd tell you no but then he was wrapping his arms around you and guiding your head to his chest. The sound of his steady heartbeat caused your eyes to flutter shut and you worked on matching your breathing to his.

"Better?"

"Better."

The two of you stayed that way for sometime, listening to the going ons of the warehouse. It was clear your friends were making their way through the goons, but that it would be awhile still before anyone stumbled upon you.

"I'll let you know when someone gets close and we can call out to them."

"Sounds good, D."

It was quiet again and then-

"Don't you dare tell anyone about this."

Matt laughed, the sound rumbling under your head.

"Wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart."

[pastafossa]

Wasn't sure if you saw this, but wanted to get your opinion!!

I hadn't seen this yet, noooo I wanted Chris back as Charlie's double, he was perfect and we couldn't have had as many amazing fights without him! 😭

And like... look, on the one hand (based on chats I've had with people in the industry), I'm told how a stunt double is chosen is complicated. Sometimes the producer can just choose one, sure, but sometimes if it's a big project with a big company, they might already have a stunt coordinator, and they often have their own stunt teams that they choose from. So it's possible this is just, 'Dis always uses These Guys and so no, you can't interview cause our current stunt coordinator already has a Shortlist Of Guys.' On top of that, stunt work is specialized so maybe they're looking for another specialty, although I'm hoping this isn't a sign that by 'yeah we're using another guy' they actually mean, 'we're doing way less stunts and good fights so we just need a stunt double who specializes in tiny stunts that segue into CGI'.

On the other hand... Je-sus, Disney, Chris is one of the elements that made the fighting so good. Yes, absolutely Charlie took on more and more stunt fights and did a shit ton of his own fights by S3, but they were also a team, and that team worked really well. There's a reason Netflix!Era DD's fights were raved about (on top of practical effects being favored over CG, but overuse of CG is just a general complaint I have with Hollywood at large and not limited to Disney). It's one of the appealing things about DD, and why practical fights work so well - he's not a character that needs much CGI beyond a few acrobatic things or the batons unless he's on-screen with someone that does (see She-Hulk). Matt's street level, and while his abilities are powerful, the point is he's still human. He's still a squishy mortal with breakable bones down in the dirt with the rest of us. Chris knows that, and he knows what he's doing. I feel like it's a mistake not letting Chris back in.

I'm still hopeful, obviously, and I'll still be watching! I'm an optimist generally and while I don't think the show will be as good as Netflix-era Daredevil... not a lot is imo, and yet I enjoy those shows all the same. So I'm choosing to stay optimistic, even if I'll be sighing over knowing we won't have Chris and Charlie.

[izbelross]

Por la vida que soy libre

A/N: Welcome back my fellow strangers :D Yesterday I had a hell of a ride on this planet called Earth in a big place called Mexico. It. Was. Awesome. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this second chapter, that is actually the third part of this hopefully ten chapter series. Leave a comment, I'm always wanting to read what you think.

Warnings: violence (kinda explicit) / angst / triple pinning / Fratt being Fratt / fluffishness / panic attacks / swearing / bad words, really, really bad words ;) / reader being a lil' piece of shit (do not mind me, just putting my issues here)

Synopsis: everyone is born with a soulmate (a/n: wouldn't that be mental?) Soulmates can hear their thoughts since childhood, some others up until they're older. This connection only becomes stable when soulmates meet, but as it can be nourished to bloom into something solid it can also be stopped. Soulmates come with a free choice, you don't die without them, you can learn to live with the one of your choice, free will no matter what. Although those who chose their destined ones can coincide in one thing: "You could never regret it". But when you are raised like a puppet of violence, your free will in every aspect of your life seems to have never existed. Along with your chance of meeting the ones destined for you.

Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

✨Taglist: @scoliobean @dusstory

Chapter 2

"Solo llorar no es bueno"

"Remember? We were so young back then, no worries, just you and me, me your ignorance that made everything else meaningless. Now look at us, you have gotten older, meanwhile I am here, the same as always, just not for you, baby."

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·

"Frank! Where are you!"

His lungs where burning with every jump and landing he made all around Hell's Kitchen, his eyes trying to focus, to gain a little more time to talk to Castle, hear him again wherever he was. "Frank!" Matt was a man that never really thought things thorough, half his choices were done in an instant, which gave him repercussions with time, losing friendships, losing lovers, losing support. All of those time he always felt the right choice was being made. The only truth was his and his only, no other way, no other options.

But we have already talked about destiny, remember?

After bolting out of the firm, with the nagging feeling on his head coming from Frank's mind, he almost goes mad with the amount of fear that blinded him. Castle was far, far away, and the obvious sound of water was the last sound that he received from the other man.

Daredevil came out then, for it wasn't enough for Matthew Murdock to handle losing someone else he cared for, someone he hasn't even had the chance to-

"Matt" Frank whisper almost making him drop to his knees in the middle of a landing, he had to stop himself to breath once, exhale, breath another time and exhale. His constricted lungs making the air travel up to his fogged mind. "Castle, where the fuck are you? What happened?"

"I got- someone attacked me, got rid of'em, so, it's 'kay."

Matt got up again and started running, Frank's voice only a whispered carried by the wind, but strong enough to tell him where his soulmate was. "I'm coming, stay there." Frank's short growling was his only response.

////////o.o////////

You forgot very soon about the weird lawyer and the strange feeling on your chest right after he bolted out the room, and apparently out of the rest of city. "How long?" You have asked Nelson "We will have to continue without him." He answered, and so, you signed the papers without Murdock and continued with your life like nothing had happened.

There was so much that could be done for the next part, with you searching for Erik and trying to reach contact with Charles without really getting anywhere near Canada, where you had a penalty of dead if ever set foot there again. Yelena had almost disappeared, no one of you knew why or where, but you really hoped she was okay.

Sharon was the only one that still held contact with you, from a biper without register on the internet data and the geolocalization from government trackers.

Seating cross ledge on the open field, your closed eyes moved behind your eyelids. You had been meditating for almost an entire week, four to six hours a day without breaks, it was the first safest option to try to speak with Charles.

So far it was being useless.

Back in your mind though you felt it again, a strange impulse to see, not with your eyes, but with that deep hidden part of you that knew you were needed somewhere. "Castle" you heard a murmur and in your state of catharsis the voice became clearer.

"... metal bender or some shit. On the first and second street, near the dumpster, he made the deal to give me his location."

"You can't go on this condition, we don't know what he's capable of and-"

"Red, I honestly don't give two shits about it! I've been hunting these assholes for a long time and I'm not gonna stop now!"

The loud voices made your skin turn warm, they weren't as near threatening but more a sad plea of help and understanding. A pain that got under every fiver and made your hands twitch, wanting to hold to whoever this was and embrace him forever.

"I know! You think I don't give a fuck about it! I care too! You are my soulmate too! I can feel your pain too! And I-" the sound of a groan came out of this softer voice. "I can't lose you, not like this. I know how much pain it gives you, but you can't keep doing this to yourself. I told you I'll help you hunt them down and that's what I'm doing-"

"Listen-"

"You listen here right now! Me helping you with them doesn't mean I'll just sit there and watch you rip yourself apart o let other do it! Do not ask that of me Castle, you know damn well I wouldn't and if it were you in my place, mhpff-"

The muffled sound of a moan flew to you, a private thing that your ears were witnessing and for some reason, it felt like the reason you were listening was because you had to be in this exact moment. And even more, you should be there, seeing with your eyes, your own ears, feeling their warmth that even only their voices could give you.

It felt like a dream, until like every other you woke up like a punch in your gut, the next words freezing your longing.

"Erik Lensherr is the last one of 'em, Red. I'll end him and then all'll be over."

Your eyes flew open. Concentration lost for a solid minute and even when you closed them again, trying with all your might to reach them, it was futile.

"Shit, shit, SHIT!"

Scrambling to your feet, you ran to the hotel you were staying it, the pressure of a really bad thing climbing to your bones.

/////////o.o/////////

"So now we're hunting a Castle and a Red?" Bucky asked while you waited for said men to appear, you didn't know when they were going to be here, or how much of a threat they were capable of, but the way Castle talked about the mutant told you enough to know he wasn't one. So instead of trying to dig for more info, like Sharon at right suggested, you took all your lest heavy weapons, took Bucky and Sharon, sending Sam as a snipper into one of the buildings and camped in the dumpster. After three days and two nights, Bucky was starting to get on your nerves.

"For the twenty fifth time, Barnes, yes, now shut up, please" Sharon answered. Looking through night-goggles. After a few seconds of silence with Bucky cleaning his weapon, she murmured your name softly. "I see two figures coming," you quickly took your own, focusing on the both silhouettes, one was barely lit by the moonlight, he was all clad in red, Red, and the other was bulkier and taller, Castle. "The red one stopped walking."

You didn't dare speak "Shit, that's Daredevil and The Punisher." Said Sam through the comms.

"You've worked with them before?" Sharon spoke, getting her ammo checked and unlocking her three guns. Bucky nodded, "Once, it was enough to know the man is a psycho and the other is no better." You gulped, you knew the reason why you have heard them, still you didn't acknowledge it, you didn't want to. If they were here for one of the most important people in your life, then it would only bring you pain. "They're close tho, they wanna hide it but, i think it's pretty obvious." He moved his chin, like signalling at them and there they were, moving like a unity, Castle kept his gun pointed slightly down, ready to shoot in a movement, and Daredevil kept a steady a few steps behind.

"They probably know we're here, you should go out." Sharon and you shared a look at Sam suggestion. "Daredevil has super hearing or somethin'"

"He's a mutant?"

"Nah, only an enhanced. That's what they told us at least."

"Let's go then." Murmured your blonde friend. You still didn't dare speak and instead opted to put on your mask and yellow goggles. "Why are you-?" You cut in before she could finish.

"Caution." The metallic voice coming through the vents of your mask would suffice. If the man used a mask, he could be any one, he would naturally detect your voice if you ever had had contact. And you weren't risking your privacy, didn't matter if they were your- your- "Ugh, let's go."

"Gentlemen, good night." Greeted Sharon, while coming two steps in front of Bucky and you, her hands relaxed at her side, close enough to grab at her guns, and you and the Soldier fanned behind her slowly, setting a perimeter to reach them as well.

The Punisher and Daredevil were defensive, muscles waiting at the least threat to set into attack mode. When the Devil talked you immediately recognised his voice. Matthew Murdock.

"Splendid time for a walk it seems." The phrase made for setting the contact with Frank's intel flew over all your heads.

"Not so much, sadly." Answered Bucky and in one blink of an eye The Punisher's guns, each in one hand was pointed towards Sharon and Bucky, a little insulting if you admit it, but it was an obvious reaction, they were the only ones with fire guns, yours were just a little less visible.

In automatic, Sharon and Bucky pointed to them as well and the little red dot from somewhere in the far buildings behind, found home at Castle's head. "You'll probably want to put that down, Castle." You spoke and if he or the Devil were surprised with you saying his name or whatever, they didn't show. "If they are already here," Frank thought, "it's probably obvious they know about our names as well."

"A pretty logic thinking, but that could back fire at us if we give away too much info." Whispered Matt to his soulmate's mind.

You looked at the way they stood there, unmoving, without answering. They are talking to each other. And so you decided to play a little, after all, you were trained by the beat liars in the world: If you want to lie, then you have to believe your own lies, they aren't as much but truths, truths you aren't trying to make believe but truths your are informing.

"What would they think of you if they saw you with him, Red?" You spoke and he turned his head a little, Frank's eyes glancing so fast to his partner that you would have missed it, but Sharon and yourself were pretty focused on every inch of reaction. She knew exactly what you were doing. "I don't think Page and Nelson would be so happy about you running around with a murderer."

Aaaand... there it was. Murdock's body stiffen and Castle's head turned to look at him directly.

"What are you doing here?" A smirk played in your lips, he didn't bite.

"Perhaps you don't care too much because, option one: You don't care about them, their reactions." Bucky didn't move at your side, he was probably hearing Sam's breathing, steady and grounding. "Which I doubt from what I've seen." Sharon's multitasking was perfect, pointing her guns at both men, following the chit chat, listening for threats. "Number two: They already know and don't give a shit because they love you." No reaction. "Number three: they've come with you."

Matt Murdock was an impulsive man, as we already know. So it was no surprise that his other face of the coin, the Devil, sometimes took his place to make things, no, not better. Actually worst. That's why he reacted the most stupid way he did.

Frank barely registered when his other stupid half ran straight towards Sharon, who didn't give two shits and shoot to his leg, leaving him screaming on the floor. Frank shoot her but didn't have in mind that you all had more technology from Tony –blessed Tony Stark wherever he is now– and as soon the bullets touched the invisible shield surrounding you, they flew backwards in every other direction.

Surprised filled Frank and terror soon stroked next, when Bucky shifted and shot him straight to his calf, bullet coming out, just like Sharon's bullet to Daredevil.

"Don't you dare touch him!" Screamed Murdock when you approached Frank. You stoped in your tracks and sent him an annoyed glare. "I'm not stupid, double D, calm your nipples."

You crouched down, away from Frank's trembling form and were met by his eyes trying to kill you. "Why are you here?"

"Tha's non of y'business." He answered, barely containing his pained groans.

"It is my business when someone wants to reach my boss." You said, firm pulse containing the lie. He only stared at you for a second but his gaze snapped towards Matt when he tried to move away from an approaching Bucky.

"I have to apply pressure in that leg. Or you'll bleed out." Bucky got closer to Murdock, with Sharon following behind every move. Still Matt didn't dare to speak and for what you could see, Castle was about to scream some more, this time at the soldier.

Murdock nodded one time and Bucky got into action, cleaning the affected area as fast as possible without doing more damage and applying the drying spry for the wound. "And who are they?" Asked the man in red, pointing to you and Sharon with his chin. Sharon didn't waver in pointing at Daredevil nor Castle, not even when Bucky send her a pointed look.

"We're the ones that will end you if you don't answer our questions, man." Replied Sharon.

"Sorry before hand, blonde." Said Murdock.

"Sorry about what?" Before any of you could say something else, Frank screamed "Cristianismo!" Leaving you all weirded out for a few seconds, until Sam spoke through the comms telling you that there were red dots on your backs.

"Well shit." You whispered.

In front of you, Bucky stood still, and you did the same when the voices of unknown people were heard from speakers all around the place.

For a moment Frank knew they were saved, this wasn't the first time someone had shoot them in what seemed a pretty civilised environment, he never imagined that people that used to be part of the avengers would ever wield a gun against someone, not even someone like them. He looked at you, like an unknown force that dare him to lay his eyes on you once, and then twice.

Your mask and yellow goggles didn't let him known for sure your features, not even your hair was visible, but the way you moved, the way you spoke, that was something that got his eye. However, the moment was lost when the voice he was expecting with such conviction, wasn't exactly the one he hoped to hear.

"Well, well, well... look what the fuck we got here."

Soon more red dots appeared in the heads of Castle and Matt, and yours and your friends. And so, a collective "Shit" was heard, it would have been comical, and if Wade was here for sure he would have laughed.

"When I told you to bring the party, Mr. Castle. This wasn't what I meant." A laugh was heard through the speakers and the "meow" of a cat. "Shh, darling, daddy's working. What was I saying? Ah! Yes, yes... yes..." Bucky and Sharon shared a look. In front of them, the injured men didn't move. "Bring my friends to me. Kill the others. Good bye, little flowers!"

"What!"

"Sam!"

"You fuckheads!"

Before the shots could be heard, Sam let go the eon bomb, stopping any kind of energy to run, so the comms turn off, the guns stopped working and the entire lights stopped working. Like about twenty people got out of seemingly nowhere, annoyed as hell, and Matt was the only one that could take notice of their exact spot.

"They are coming from all around us! You all need to leave!" He screamed at your team.

Bucky shared a short conversation with his soulmate, that soon turned into a rippled scream that told you and Sharon enough about what was going on in that building, away from all of you. "I need to go! I need to...!" He didn't even finished his sentence when you and Sharon started to run alongside him, leaving the men laying on the floor who were soon surrounded by their new "friend" and the hanging feeling on your chest that you did something very, very wrong.

But you ignored it, again, and followed your friends to help Sam.

The lights came back as you all were in the building, climbing the first fly of stairs. Outside of there, you couldn't pick a single sound, your forceful puffs of air while trying to get there on time not letting your ears get anything else but the thrumming of your head or the burning in your lungs.

"Sam!" Bucky threw himself through the door, watching his soulmate fighting five people on his own, without a second thought hi got into action and not even Sharon or you, that got there ten seconds after, were fast enough to help. Poor Sam was left standing there right about to punch another fellow that was grabbed by the neck and thrown across the room, the force cracking his skull on the wall and ending him just as fast.

"Wow." Whispered Sharon and you couldn't do anything else but nod with big doe eyes. So powerful was the love, that the heavy feeling from moments ago started to tug to you, like commanding you to go back outside, to help the men that surely were being drag now into a trap.

You were going mad, probably, you weren't a hundred percent sure, but when you realised the "I need to follow them" phrase came out of your mouth and stumbled through the door running down the stairs and jumping three at a time, you were already helping Castle and Murdock kick the shit out of the ten people left in there.

Both of them saw you running to help. But in very different ways. Frank was there, watching over the shoulder of the man he was literally kicking to death, you sprinting towards another that was pointing directly at Matt and how in one flying kick you broke his spine. The bullet flying in the opposite direction. You turned to look at him and Frank send you a nod, which you reciprocated.

Matthew was another story. He first heard you with clarity, like his ability to identify Frank's footsteps had suddenly expanded towards yours, with only meeting. Although he knew, he wasn't completely sure, but he had the suspicion that he had already heard the compass of your walking. After spotting you around them, he could smell your adrenaline, the sweat that clung to your body and the aroma that told him exactly who you were, and, for his own shame, his foot almost slipped with the revelation.

Like transported for a mili second, he was back on the day you were on his firm with the Soldiers. It was definitely you, and now he knew, he fucking knew for sure, Barnes and Wilson were two assholes that deserved to have a good ass kicking for shooting them both. And you for acting all so incapable of harming someone. Not like he wasn't doing the exact same thing but, you get the point.

"Castle! At your left!" The man followed your warning, dodging a punch with a metal bar that opened his chances to strike at his attacker and left him unconscious.

A couple more minutes after. The fight was over, leaving you three gasping for air and hurting in many places.

The mental fight began between Frank and Matt. Like always, there was the pull that dared them get closer. To get to help each other, care for each of their wounds in the gentle manner and un-judging way a soulmate can. First assessing in mentality, asking themselves if the were damaged beyond scraped, cuts or punches. But when their closed banter was starting, your voice shut them up inmeadiatly, lulling them instead into paying you close attention. Like dogs who are in the middle of being defensive and wanting to trust.

"You two look like shit." They didn't answer and you took that as a good sign. What are you doing down there, Y/N? You ignored Sam's voice through the comms. "I have medical supplies that can help you but first we need to get out of here."

"I assume you have more questions at hand, don't ya' sweetheart?" Frank took a step closer to you, at his side, the other man was a little unsure.

"Y/N?" Looking at Murdock you could only nod, Castle didn't look surprised. "Why? I mean-" he licked his lips, a question hanging heavy between you three. "I can tell you whatever you want to know if, only if you come with me. After all," your eyes settled in Castle's with a heaviness to them that his breath got stuck on his throat. "I have questions of my own, darling." His adan apple bobbed and you knew you had him right where you wanted.

You eyes twinkle with the knowledge that these men here, right there in front of you were probably trying to hunt down the most important man in your life, you were going to do whatever the shit was needed to stop them, even if you had to fight them, kill them and die trying.

But then... then you heard it.

"I don't like this, Red. They just shot us!" You could swear that the big man lips didn't move and you could swear that....

"HOLY SHIT!" You and Matthew flinched at the same time when he screamed, his almost always controlled voice getting louder and louder, both in your heads and in the outside.

"Did you just speak in my head!" Joining to his string of curses he took a step closer to you and even if he kept on murmuring obscenities no one could deny the look of amazement on his irises. "You are- are there, right there- here."

It felt weird. Not like finding something you have been searching for, not quite like it but close enough.

You were your entire everything before this moment. Like there was no other someone that was waiting for you or you were waiting for. The parts of you that were full, didn't suddenly got to make space for two split souls you just encounter, no, no. On the contrary, it's like you expanded, like the world you lived in, your little you suddenly decided that here, tight now, those two men right there were an extension of you.

A void that has never been a void. A void that is still a void ob blackness that is you, a darkness so deep that makes you what you are because it can mold, it can reflect the light that wants come inside it and make it its own and now, now there were two more voids that were, that are, to make you company.

"I can feel your head spiralling." Chuckled Murdock, just not out loud, and it was a different voice, something softer, something like silk that ran through your sensitive fibres, making your last cell purr in pure extasis. "Dear mother of fucking christ." Frank let out a loud laugh with your mumble that made an echo inside of you, waves that slowly formed with the deep sound of one of your soulmates.

"Welcome to the club."

For seconds that got longer and longer you three stood there, not knowing what to do but more so hearing each others rush of thoughts. The "And now what?" "What do we do?" "This is soooo fucked up."

Honestly you couldn't blame them, your own mind made you believe that you were dreaming, like your body was there but you were watching everything from the outside.

"I-" Murdock got interrupted by the sounds of many screeching cars near the place, the reality of the situation came crashing down again in all of you.

This wasn't the most preferably moment to have an encounter. "We have to move" whispered Frank on his head and there you went. The comms going off with the soft bump of someone crashing them and fear started to creep to you. You could hear both of the men in your head, telling you to keep running, even if you were ahead of them and they could barely stand on their not so healed legs.

Still, you didn't let on your speed, jumping over the fence even with the sudden gunshots going off all around you, lights that didn't quite reach any of you but that surely would have had if only you were slower.

You didn't went back to the point of encounter with your team, not daring to bring back more danger than was already ahead of them. Letting your chaser follow you to the deep forest far north of the place. "Cheers for American random forests" you thought. "Not time for joking, kid." Frank's mind answered to you.

You only kept running, to the thickest of the forest.

Looking to Frank getting a car engine started you thought in all the ways he could do the work faster. How he was making it all the more complicated way and how you knew different tactics for that, Castle only spared few quick glances at you, grunting low every now and then.

Matthew was far away, doing his god knows what, but for the newly connection his string of curses to the paperless toilet was pretty clear.

"Got it." The man in black finally got the engine purring steadily, "Hurry up before we leave you here, Red."

Not you nor him dare to glance at each other, he kept his gaze looking through the front glass and you through the copilot window.

You didn't know what you were doing. Going along with them and helping them buy stuff from the pharmacy was like playing to the fucking doll house. Many questions hanged from your mind, they were there and they could read them. Each one of them and yet, they all went ignored. Castle only looked at you in few occasions, not daring to share, not daring to ask.

Murdock just stood into his playful self of pure Daredevil. Joking once in a while and sassing you and Frank with every step you took. But behind all that you could sense that this wasn't new for them. Being defensive. Unattached.

It was a match were even if you happened to be a new player, knew the rules very well and followed them to the letter. After all, Yelena and Natasha and yourself used to be like this. Unapproachable but making believe the world mattered when in reality it was far from it.

And now this two men were like you were years ago. Before meeting and joining the Avengers. Emotionally constipated.

"What the fuck does that even mean?" Castle looked at you through the mirror, a hint of amusement in his tone. "Just speaking my mind, man. Can't even do that?" Snorting he looked away to an approaching Matt.

There was no point in stoping the conversation when Murdock entered the back seat, so you didn't dare not answer when Frank continued talking, "Your sisters?" A lump formed in your throat and he glanced at you briefly, an intensity heavy of understanding, even if it were only few seconds, for your damaged soul it was warm enough to lit a fire your years. "Yes"

That was the only thing you answered. Frank nodded and a quiet pat on your shoulder was given by Matt.

For the next half an hour no more words were exchanged, just images that flew past from them to you and vice versa.

"I thought we lost them!" You wheezed, Murdock hanging for dear life to the edge of a cliff, Frank panting at your side and like you grabbing the terrified hanging man from one arm to pull it towards yourselves.

Far away the crashing sound of the car still echoed all around the hills, a coming explosion throwing black smoke that would take time to evaporate away.

Matt was clutching your and Frank's hand, his eyes blinking, moving one side to another trying to make out your faces in all of the infernal world he was able to see. Your right hand clutched his t-shirt from the back and your forehead rested on his cheek, sending images of the ocean, the sound of the waves, the smell of the refreshing salty weather.

Frank's hand didn't let go of Murdock's but he didn't got close either, preferring to observe you both, a coming and going of soft reassurances and quiet terrified exhales. He had never been this touchy –if you could call that to holding the wrist of someone so hard to almost leave imprints– with anyone, not after Maria and more strange even, with Red. Knowing that you could someone, that the mere chance of it was about to happen a few seconds ago was enough to not let go of his hand and in exchange Matt gripped his even harder.

You could feel his eyes on you, so you took a peak over Matt's shoulder and there, Frank's little smile, without hesitancies, without awkward feelings.

A tenderness washed over you, this men were just as troubled, just as confused even after years of having each other. But you, you had that question still in you, that nagging part that didn't let your open perspective go over all the details, the changes that were already blooming.

You let yourself enjoy, just for a little bit more. A bittersweet memory of Matt's shaking figure and Frank's frantic eyes, the warmth enveloping your bones.

"Why were you searching for Erik Lensherr?"

The travel by car had come to a stop with said car falling of a cliff and exploding at the bottom. There was nothing left of the supplies, you could fantasise that you made it out of the way from the "secret friend" of Castle, the stupid prick of a soulmate that was now hanging from a post, his hands over his head, prickling from lost of blood.

It wasn't surprising that after trying to fight the men that got you against the edge of the mountain you wouldn't be able to over power them. Fighting five each and being to tired to go against the rest of them, almost like twenty more. More and more you try to grab sand in your fist, the more it slips between your fingers until everything went dark.

So here you were now, hanging from a post, the same way as Murdock and Castle, hands over head tied together and aching ribs.

They didn't need to look to deep into your mind to see the memories barely contained of your days with Erik, the good ones and some dark ones that you let slip. It was hard trying to block them out, but you were a fast learner.

Matt took a long breath and sighed tiredly, this wasn't going to end well. "I have very strong suspicions that your beloved Magneto helped in murdering my family." Frank locked eyes with you, a strong feeling behind them, something you knew very, very well.

Revenge.

But you couldn't believe such a thing, maybe a little, Erik after all used to have many enemies, and getting rid of them was a speciality of his but, you were there looking at Frank giving you the bomb of information that some stranger gave him. "How you know this friend of your isn't lying?"

Matt grumbled a little, his tied extremities starting to get itchy. "Probably should talk some other time." Nor you or Castle spared him a glance.

"I trust him, he had some pretty logical reasons." Even with five meters separating you from each other and the barely lit room you could see his eyes setting on stone, getting defensive. Squinting your eyes you didn't dare think about something else but what you were about to ask. "And that's it? You think that because someone know simple things about you that make them trust worth it?"

"They aren't simple things," Frank seethed through greeted teeth "And no one-" he looked at you, Lensherr was someone you cared about, someone you were right now defending, you. He didn't know you, he had never hoped but for life to give him a glimpse, a single second of being with his other soulmate even if it was just a glimpse through a crowd street and no more. Right now tho? He was starting to regret it, mainly because his soulmate was talking back at him in pos of one of the murderers of his family, his children, his wife.

Matt inclined his head, his brain starting to pound with the mental battle, the conclusions so fast running from one mind to another. The mask off his face only made it better for you and Frank to watch the worried barely contained expression, but it's not like any of you two would lose the staring battle.

"Are you defending him?" The words were spitted out his mouth, and it would have made you flinch, the anger behind them and the promise of something that probably would never get fixed. His heart got into a steady rhythm on his chest, like when he was calculating the perfect angle for shooting. You with your vulnerable position just like him and a lot of alone time but not enough time all in the same moment, just closed your mind, he didn't care. "What if I am?"

There it was.

Frank Castle rejoiced a few hours ago, when your connection got stable, when Red and him woke up first than you and he was able to look at your face ridden of that mask and glasses. A gorgeous sight even in the fucking cell they were. His chest wanted to have you close, the longing was there and he knew with a little more time, just like what happened with Red and him, you three would find a peace in your daily lives.

But he had forgotten about Erik Lensherr and the way you had pronounced his name, with a voice that had behind curiosity, caution, even fondness, and then the world was clear from the high of being reunited.

He shook his head, not believing, not wanting to believe, "You're not better than him."

Pain crushed your mind, a feeling not so foreign for you. Many times back in the red room they had tried to cut your connection, prolonging the mental pain and allowing the suffering to clean you from the bond that hadn't bloom at that time. It would have surprised you that he wouldn't dare to break the connection "Castle, stop right now, don't you fucking dare!" Matt revolved against the chains, his body wanting to get closer to his soulmate crying soul, both of you were lashing against each other and he wasn't sure if he agreed with you or him, he just couldn't .

Frank's lost had been –and still was– a wound that wouldn't close, it wasn't bleeding or infected. The pus had been cleaned and patched but the stitches would reopen every now and then, right after the anniversary of their deaths or when they encounter people left that knew about the most minimal detail, no matter how insignificant it was.

Now tho, he could feel again the blood going straight to his head not allowing him to think of anything beyond the rage, the misery and so before any of you could speak the door opened reviling him.

"What is this my eyes see? A hound? A wolf?" He looked at you, the incredulity shining in your eyes. For more than ten years you- you believed that- "A little kitten perhaps?" His white teeth were left in sight when he smiled, a face you recognised so well from the memories, from nightmares.

"(Y/n), look at me, look at me." The man in front of you continued talking, Frank's voice reaching your ears as well, his menacing tone but not quite understanding anything beyond this monster getting near you and the feeling of his cold hands on your face. "Focus on me, sweetheart, please, focus on my voice. I need you to breath." Matt was pleading, your memories going in all directions for him and Castle, the man still talking to him, to them, touching your face like a lover would and you there just unmoving, with the edge in your mind that got their ears with a numb noise, just like years before, when they knew about your existence.

It was maddening, seeing you there so close again, and they were unable to do anything.

Frank's rage went below the surface, his own pain coming back, the guilt of not being capable of helping in the right time. "Do not fucking touch them! I swear I would end your fucking life!"

Matt's hands buckled against the restrains, his wrists going lax and slowly trying on disarticulating his union with the thumb.

"Erik Lensherr!" Screamed Frank at the man in front of them and Matt stoped his movements looking at Frank like he had grown a second hand. "I am talking to you stupid fucker! Look at me!"

The man caressing your trembling form chuckled without no care he looked back at them. "What do you mean Erik Lensherr?" Asked Matt, not knowing the fuck was going on "Frank, that's not Erik Lensherr."

"Look at him! What do you mean-?" A piece of metal wrapped around his throat, or at least, that's what Frank felt, shutting up inmeadiatly and stretching his neck.

"This is a vision" screamed Matt, your head trying to comprehend and trying to even your breath "He's not real!"

"Dear Matty," an old voice that made his blood run cold came out of the man, Matt couldn't distinguish him, the unusual movement around him, the cackling fire not settling but forming a mass of savage oranges and furious reds. "You're still weak, caring too much, hanging onto useless feelings, kid."

"Well shit." You whispered, the spell of a nightmare going right against Murdock and Frank letting you breath and your mind to clean. "What are you?" You asked. Frank looked at you, too stunned to speak with the flow of memories from Red, you were barely resisting the urge to scream at the thing in front of you. "What are you?" You asked.

"Stick is dead, he is dead, he is dead." said Matt like a mantra, repeating it over and over until he could believe it, until the voice of the old man was lost to his ears and he focused instead on your voice, your questions, the fast beatings of Frank's heart. One of his hands was still on the tight grip of the handcuffs, the other aching and gripping hard to his still trapped wrist, he focused on that pain as well, better than the rage he felt for the last man he almost got to consider family and all the complicated relationship he build around them.

"I am simply a friend of yours that offers an answer for your questions." He spoke to Frank this time and again you couldn't believe that he was trusting this... this thing. "You wanted to know something, I happen to know what you seek for, but every knowledge has a price, what would you give me in return?"

"Don't you dare, Punisher, don't you fu-" your throat got caught by an imaginary metal as well, not that you were able to discern between them, for it felt to real.

Castle looked at you, both between the sword and wall and your warnings ringing high on his head, your whispered angry warnings on his mind "What do you want?" Matt's head moved in his direction and the bubbling anger just got deeper in you.

"I want... I want..." The copy of Erik sing sang, prolonging the vocals and getting nearer to Castle. "You'll have to give me something powerful and old, something strong, yes, yes..." taking a knife out his pocket, you and Matt bristled and screamed when he cut the vest covering Frank's chest. He didn't even care, only looking at the image of Erik in front of him, he didn't care when the bullet proof vest fell to the floor, or when the knife cut through his black clothing, showing his chest. "When you find it, when you take it. You'll bring it to me and your debt will be payed."

A heartbeat pass between your eyes boring into Frank's skull, his closed mind to you not letting the very furious words reach him and Matt's pleas for Frank to don't do it, not accept.

But even if he glanced at both of you he didn't dare refuse "Agreed." The monster in front of your eyes smiled at Frank while rapidly cutting an 'x' on his left pectoral, a hissing came out his mouth and suddenly the cuffs on his wrists and ankles weren't there anymore, letting him to fall to the floor clutching his newly mark chest and that monster disappeared between yours and Matt's swearings and worried screams.

Both of you fell hard to the floor, the room around you disappearing, the poles were no where in sight, the place turned into greens, and mountains and the smell of burning gas and you were again at the edge of the cliff, the car far below you and the sound of cars getting far away from you, through the forest road started to ground you.

For two minutes Matt and you were dumbfounded, "Son of a bitch!" You screamed. "It was an illusion" Murdock scrambled on his knees to you and took your face into his hands, it was rough, the movement of his fingers checking the places the monster touched you. Looking at him, you took his hands away from your face and both got up, running to Castle's whining form on the dirt.

His vest was on him, as well as his shirt but still he clutched his chest, sobbing in a terrible burn that was slowly fading.

With desperation he but tear away his vest and pull down the neckline of the black clothe.

You all sat there, flabbergasted racing hearts that didn't stop you from reaching out and roaming your fingers over the scar in form of an 'x', Frank looked at your hand, tracing the lines that should be hurting, following your arm with his eyes and finding your neck he checked from his spot that your neck wasn't hurt.

Then he looked at Matt, that had a hand on his right shoulder, wandering eyes focusing between him and you. "That was- it all..." his voice barely heard with the wind of the small mountain.

"Yeah." Matt answered.

The sound of an alarm startled you, your minds too tired to take precautions just turned at the forest behind your back and Frank's.

There sat like it was normal a smartphone. Left with the distinguishable tone of an alarm.

Matt got up and offered his hand to you, helping you on your feet while Frank ignored you two and walked to the device waiting for him.

Picking it up and turning off the alarm the screen had a text for image, "We have a deal, check notes, check documents."

"You are so fucked, Castle. I swear..." you murmured.

He was too occupied reading the notes with the date of delivering of what he promised and the place. And then documents with the next stop of Erik Lensherr, his weaknesses, his contacts, his past and his friends.

Frank looked at you, then at Matt a few steps ahead, poetically between you, "I'm not gonna stop 'til s'dead," you knew that, of course you knew, not even a few hours ago you met but his entire life wasn't going to change only because he had you or Matt. You looked at the man between you. His body stiff and surprisingly you heard Frank in your mind as well, reading as fast as he could, generally, through the pages and pages, photos.

"I can't let you hurt him."

" I know." He put the phone on his back pocket and walked to his vest on the floor, picking it up.

"I'll help you find him." You said while watching how he strapped it to his chest and how his hands trembled with your words.

Matt had a sense of deja vu, having being in your place a few weeks ago and for the fleeting cloud of uneasiness at Frank's mind, he knew he wasn't the only one.

Frank Castle stood on all his height, arms limp on each side of his body, rigid shoulders but with strangely soft eyes. "When I find him, I'm gonna kill'm"

You took a step forward, Murdock trying to keep a level headed thinking, not focusing on the many possibilities where you trying to save Lensherr leaded to Frank having to hurt you, or worst.

"I know."

[magicalqueennightmare]

Sins & Amends Chapter 4

(Gif by @ banditthewriter)

Billy Russo x Female Reader (60 part story)

This follows pre- the punisher into the storyline of daredevil, punisher season 1 and beyond

This is NOT Canon Billy. This is decent human being Billy left with bad options over worse decisions

This was also posted to A03 under: WaywardGaPeach. That account and this one is the only place you'll see me post this. If you see it on any other platform/account know it's not me.

Chapter Summary: You help Maria through another deployment while writing Billy as well. Once the guys hit stateside there's no denying you and Mr Russo are indeed friends

The first time you sat down to write Billy you found yourself staring at the notebook. What were you going to say? You knew so many letters came off as repetitive and you didn't want to sound like that. Writing Frank was simple enough you covered anything and everything to do with Maria and the kids but what to tell Billy?

After a moment you took a breath then finally put pen to paper. You told him small things like the new med bag your partner Alice had surprised you with for your birthday all the way to how a recent call had pushed you to the extent of your knowledge. After a few minutes you realized you had an entire letter written. You didn't quite know how to sign it so you simply put "Stay safe" at the end then laid it next to your jacket so you wouldn't forget to drop it in the mail come the next morning.

After that first letter you weren't really expecting him to write you back. The most you'd ever even see Maria and the kids get from him was a short thanks for the card or whatever had been sent to him.

It was a little over a month before you got a letter back from him and it was a pleasant surprise. You got it out your mail box and tucked it into the top of your bag before heading to the elevator. Maria and the kids wanted you to come over for dinner but you had enough time to read the letter then shower and change.

You dropped your bag by the door and pulled the letter out then walked into the kitchen while you tore it open. The first line was his usual snark of "Oh sweetheart how can I not be safe" You leaned against the counter and found a smile slipping onto your face the further you read. He of course talked about Frank and told you a few stories of the other men out his unit and even a few of their unclassified missions. He wished you a belated birthday and commended you on doing everything you could during the call. By the end of the letter you were wishing it was longer.

Your smile grew when you saw that at the end of the letter he'd written "I'll try to write more when I can but this is kind of new to me.Thanks for this though. It was a nice change"

You walked over and tucked the letter in with your notebooks and envelopes making a mental note to write him again as soon as you could before heading to grab a quick shower after checking the time.

It didn't take very long before writing Billy became part of your usual routine. You'd get a letter every couple weeks or so and would send him one back within a day of getting his. You started looking forward to checking your mail in hopes of a new letter being in there. It seemed the more you wrote Billy the more he was letting you see into who he really was even more.

You were staying over with Maria and the kids due to a storm coming through and Lisa not being the biggest fan of thunder when Frank managed to Skype them. All of you were squashed onto the love seat huddled around Maria's laptop when Frank's face came into view. You smiled just seeing how happy Maria and the kids were to see him.

He talked to all of you for a while then his attention started darting off screen and you were worried for a moment the call would get cut short until Billy appeared over his shoulder with a broad smile "Uncle Billy!" Lisa and Frank Jr giggled. "Hey squirts, Maria" he greeted and Maria smiled "Hey Billy. Taking care of my husband?" "Oh yes ma'am" he replied with a wink then he looked directly at you so Maria slid the laptop into your lap.

"Hey Y/N" "Hey Billy. How you doing?" even over a fuzzy connection those dark eyes drew you into them and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to remind yourself he was firmly friend zone for soo many reasons. "Can't complain cause even if I did Frankie will probably just throw something at my head anyways" You tried and failed to stifle a laugh. "Well then don't complain around him unless you have your helmet on" "I'll be sure to remember that. Anyways just wanted to say hey Frankie's about to knock me out the chair to get the computer back but take care I'll write again soon"

"She has a account too Bill" Frank cut in so since you were already outed you nodded "Yea want the name?" "Yea sure" after you told him your username and number for Skype he told Maria and the kids bye then let Frank back in the chair so you slid the laptop back to Maria and pulled Frank Jr over into your lap so he could see his dad more clearly.

Frank stayed on for a while longer so when the kids ended up falling asleep before he had to cut the call you carried one at a time to bed so him and Maria could talk longer. After you'd tucked Lisa in you walked back in the living room to find Maria wiping her eyes and sitting the laptop down in the corner to charge.

"Ria? you ok?" you asked softly and she nodded "I just miss him" you held out your arms silently and she walked into them letting you comfort her for a few minutes before she sniffled and said "Ok enough of wallowing kids are in bed, we have wine and movies let's enjoy ourselves before the storm hits good" you were always amazed at her ability to keep moving forward. She was the strongest woman you'd ever known.

You followed her into the kitchen and grabbed two wine glasses out before sitting them on the counter. She grabbed a bottle out the fridge and poured you both a glass then tucked the bottle under her arm and nodded towards the pantry "Grab some snacks I'll get the movie started"

You were watching the woman on screen light something explosive up when Maria said "You know Frank said Billy really does appreciate the letters. He doesn't really have family besides us" you glanced sideways at her and shrugged "He's a pretty good guy and like I told him we're stuck together as long as he's friends with Frank cause I don't know about Billy but I don't plan on going anywhere" she laughed at that then added "I'm glad you two have become friends even if I warned you about his flirting he is really a sweetheart when it comes down to it" a rumble of thunder echoed through the house so you sat your glass down then stood up and said "I'll go check on them" before heading towards Lisa and Frank Jr's bedrooms.

The Skype calls between you and Billy started happening regularly. There were times they'd be just minutes and there were times you'd talk for an hour or longer. Frank would dip in to say hey and to check in on Maria because she'd tell you more how she was handling things then she would him.

The two of you had went from simply being stuck with each other due to your choices of best friends to actually being friends yourself.

You filled your time when you weren't working with either Maria and the kids or hanging out with Curtis, helping him get used to things back stateside.

It seemed like the ten month deployment went by rather fast before you knew it the guys were back and you were once again sitting up the welcome home barbeque. Frank was manning the grill while Maria finished up a few things inside so you were leaned against the side of the house talking with Curtis and his sister Mia who you'd gotten to fly in to surprise him and watching everyone mill around in the background laughing when a random water balloon caught Frank behind the head.

"Curt tell you the plans he has to help vets?" you asked Mia and saw a smile slip onto Curtis's face "It's in the infant steps but yea and Y/N has offered to help however she can" You talked with the two of them for a while before you heard Billy holler "Y/N! HELP ME!" You glanced up from the conversation and laughed when you saw the predicament he was currently in.

Frank Jr was behind him and Lisa appeared to be threatening them both with the water hose. "What did he do Lis?" You hollered and could see the grin playing at her lips she was a mirror of her mom when you were both younger "He said boys are stronger than girls!" "William Russo!" You gasped and he gave a guilty shrug.

About that time Frank walked back into the house then came out with the super soakers he'd gotten the kids and handed you one "go get him" "FRANKIE!" Billy was the one to sound shocked this time but Frank just shrugged "House rules brother. We don't question the strength of these women"

You spent the rest of the day laughing while you and Lisa bombarded Billy even ending up talking Frank Jr and Big Frank into your plans. Unfortunately when Frank came up with an idea that ended with Billy going into the above ground pool he managed to grab you before he went over the side and you both ended up soaking wet and laughing your asses off.

"Remind me again why I'm friends with you Billy?" you asked playfully shoving him while you tried to climb out the pool only for him to laugh and pull you back in replying "You're best friends with my best friend's wife?" "Oh yeah" you agreed before hopping up to shove him down in the water and make a break for it.

Frank pulled you out and laughed when you shook your hair out your face "Alright children go get dried off" You leaned around him and stuck your tongue out at Billy who shook his head with a grin before you headed towards the door where Maria stood with a stack of towels.

"Thanks Ria" you said as you took the offered towel. She nodded back towards where Billy and Frank were making their way across the yard "seems like you two are getting along well enough" you glanced back at the two then smiled at her "Yea he's actually fun to be around most of the time" 

"Hey I heard that!" Billy said mocking hurt at your words before he grabbed the towel from Maria and added "besides I am a delight to be around. Ain't that right Frankie?" Frank looked between you and Billy then shook his head "says more about me and Maria that this is what we chose as our friends" 

"Frank!" "Frankie!" You and Billy exclaimed in unison before Frank grinned "Our lives be boring without the two of you" you glared at Frank playfully for a second before cutting your eyes at Billy "He looks a little too dry to me. What do you think Russo?" 

A smirk slid onto Billy's face as soon as he realized your plan and he nodded "Oh definitely" "Do not!" He warned looking between the two of you. 

"I call the water hose!" You hollered making a run for it and heard Billy "I got the super soaker!" "You're both dead!" Frank hollered and Maria simply said "Y/N show no mercy to either of them!" Then ran inside with a laugh and slammed the door behind her.

Tags: @intothesoul

@weallhaveadestiny

[fakefanofmarvel]

Novacane 2// Matt Murdock X Dark! Reader

CW: THIS IS A DARK FIC. This is part 2. Reminder READER is bat shit crazy and does some really bad things including but not limited to stalking, kidnapping, manipulation, drugging, and blackmail. If that isn't something you are into please keep scrolling. Minors DO NOT INTERACT. Part 1 3

It has been about 2 months since you and Matt officially started dating. You had stopped with your shrine to Matt and was finally seeing him as a person instead of a prize. He wasn't the person you had thought he'd be. He was way more than what you could find in any article about the Devil of Hell's Kitchen or his Linkin page. You didn't plan on telling him that you knew he was Daredevil or how you made it so that you two would meet. It was difficult not mentioning anything about Daredevil when he showed up for date night with a new scar every time. You fully planned on not telling him you knew, until; he crawled into your apartment covered in blood and bruises last night in his daredevil costume before passing out. Luckily the one thing you didn't lie about was wanting to be a doctor. That was before you got kicked out of school for showing signs of being "mentally unstable"

You got his suit off before patching up his wounds and cleaning him up. You made sure his heart rate and everything was fine before basically dragging his large frame into your bed. You stayed up all night watching him making sure he was okay. When he finally came to it was morning. You were tired and so worried you couldn't even be mad at him.

"(Y/N)?" He rolled over with his eyes still closed

"I'm right here, Matty" You reached out your hand to him which he took.

He looked at you with tears in his eyes. You could tell he was about to say something.

"Save it. We'll talk after we get back from the hospital,"

You grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a plain black t-shirt for him to put on. He set up slowly.

"I can't go to the hospital. They'll start asking questions," he protested

"You're a blind guy in Hell's Kitchen. You were mugged, and you tried to fight back but he had a knife. Those cuts are pretty deep and I can't do stitches. You need to go to the ER and make sure you aren't bleeding internally. You're not fighting me on this, Matthew. Get dressed, we're leaving now." You gave him no time to argue with you.

You ordered a cab and waited downstairs until Matt came down. He was walking with a limp but he was walking and that's more than you can say he was doing last night. You weren't upset that he was hurt because you knew his secret but you were upset at how badly he was hurt. You never expected it to be that bad. You stood on the sidewalk with your arms crossed and tears forming in your eyes. Matt tried to put his arm around you to comfort you but you moved away from him.

"Don't. Just don't Matt,"

"Y/N please don't do this." He pleaded "I should have told you but involving you would only put you in danger and I can't live with that,"

"And what would I have done if you died in my doorway last night, Matt? I just got used to you being here I can't lose you now," The tears that were building up in your eyes were now falling down your cheeks

Matt pulled you into a hug but just held onto you while you let your emotions out.

"I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, sweetheart. Don't worry. Okay? Look at me," He lifted your face and whipped your tears. " You're not getting rid of me that easily," he kissed your forehead

"I can't believe it's been 6 months. It feels like we just met yesterday," Karen lifted her glass toast " Happy 6 months guys. I hope you guys are together forever." The 4 of you tapped their glasses together before taking a sip of their drink.

The gang was out celebrating another successful case on the night of you and Matt's 6 month-versary which Karen and Foggy were making a big deal out of for some reason.

"Thank you guys but I'm going to call it a night. I have a flight in the morning." Matt got up to pay his tab.

"Yeah, I have a hot 'date' tonight I should be heading out too," Foggy followed close behind.

"When is he going to realize that we know that a hot date means his hooking up with someone he barely knows," Karen said causing the two of you to laugh.

"At least he won't be alone this weekend," You joked back.

"Aw, this is the first weekend the two of you have been apart in months isn't it?"

You nodded in response

"How about we have a girl's weekend just the 2 of us at your fancy new apartment,"

Karen had slowly become your best friend. Over the last few months the two of you would talk on the phone for hours, and she'd come to watch movies with you and send each random videos on TikTok.

"That sounds fun! I think we should do it. Bring the snacks and ill bring the drinks,"

"Great! Tomorrow at 5 sound good?" Karen asked excitedly

"Yeah. This is my first girl's night ever. I can't wait," The smile on your face is way bigger than before. You didn't have many friends growing up and you finally felt like you had someone.

"I'm fine. Karen will be here in a few minutes. I'm still setting everything up," You talked to Matt on the phone as you set up the living room for your girl's night.

"That's great, babe. I'm happy for you. I'll call later to check on you. I just checked in. Love you," He hung up the phone.

On cue, Karen knocked on the door before walking in. She had been over so often she wasn't considered company anymore.

"Wow, it looks really nice in here," Karen handed you the bag before hugging you.

You had gone a little overboard with decorating and made it look like every sleepover scene you had seen on tv growing up.

"Thanks I wanted it to be memorable. I'll pour us some drinks and pop us some popcorn you can pick a movie," You left Karen in the living room while you walked to the kitchen.

Karen chose a random romcom before getting antsy and started looking around at the pictures you had on the wall and your different decoctions. She smiled at the pictures of you and Matt hanging up. She always thought the two of you were perfect for each other and was happy she had a part in the two of you meeting.

"Hey, can you get the blankets and pillows out of the closet by the door," You shouted from the kitchen?

Karen walked towards the closet before responding to you. After removing the blankets from the top of the grey chest she got curious. She sat everything down on the sofa and walked back to the closet. She unlocked the gold lock before lifting the lid. The hundreds of pictures of Matt sleeping, eating, and out with foggy and so many different articles about Daredevil. She looked over the different details of the pictures and the random coffee mug that was in a bag labeled 'Matt's mug'. She started thinking it was a little weird how obsessed you were with your boyfriend but she didn't think too much about it until she found your diary. It was full of entries about how you had been stalking Matt for months and how you tricked Karen into helping you two meet.

"Oh my gosh, Oh my gosh, oh my gosh," Karen kept repeating over and over to herself as she took her phone out to text Matt.

'Matt, call me it's an emergency.' she sent the message before putting her phone back in her pocket.

She put the diary back and tried to put everything back in the chest before you came back. She closed the chest and tried to get out of the closet. She turned around to be faced with you holding a bottle of wine.

"I was just-" She started nervously

"It's a shame I really liked you, Karen Page," You said before hitting her over the head with the wine bottle knocking her out cold.

Her body went limp on the floor. You checked her pulse to make sure she was still breathing. Luckily she was.

"Damn it!" You shouted angry that you had to get rid of the only friend you ever had.

[wtf-a-psychoanalysis]

The Devil in the Sewers

Most of Matt Murdock's Clients bring a scent back from every where they've been but the sewers of New York was a rare one, usually from plumbers and city workers but he never would have expected it from an aspiring reporter and college student.

"Miss O'Neal, Its a pleasure to finally meet you in person." Matt extended a hand towards the direction of April O'Neal. " So what brings you to Hell's Kitchen?"

"Its about my friend, Casandra Jones, she was recently arrested for trespassing on private property then you were able to bail her out," said April. While talking, she had an eye searching for finer details that could point her to the direction she needed. And above the blind man's eye and near his hairline were two raised scars, as if something could pop out of them at any moment.

April continued, "Casey was a bit 'sussed' out by your immediate attention to her case, she told me to look into you, and I did. Particularly cases such as Karen Page and Frank Castle from your previous firm and there's taking down the Kingpin. Trespassing seems a bit too small for you."

"Its not about Crime or how big the client's name might be Miss O'Neal, its about defending the city of New York." said the lawyer. If his partners had not been absent that day, they would have backed him up. Judging by the light steps behind his office door. It sounds like Miss O'Neal had backup too.

The door opened, barely hissing a creek, as if the one who'd open it knows that ears are as powerful as eyes. But the smell that wafted through the air, damp, mildewy, mixed with various metals and so utterly New York, gave April's friend away as something not entirely human. Her heart rate starts to pick up, the friend was probably disregarding a possible "don't come in" that was said a couple blocks before.

"Who's your friend Miss O'Neal." Matt asked, this prompted her friend to almost saunter a bit closer to him.

"Othello Von Ryan! At your service!" exclaimed. The pride in his words were nothing to hide the fact it was a lie. It amused Matt, letting out a small laugh he continued.

"No really, what is your name?" Matt said, wanting to know more of this now disappointed character.

"Sigh," He sighed, "Donatello Hamato." Nothing in Matt's initial question pressed for his full name, however there was this mutual understanding that some transparency was needed. The whirrs coming from Donatello indicated he started up some sort of machine. The slight beeps and chirps and the soft "Oh" that followed was not a good sign to Murdock. If only he could see the sparkle in the purple clad turtle's rusty brown eyes, he would have been more understanding. Then Matt's hand made its way to sooth a tingling feeling starting to bubble at his temples.

"I apologise for cutting this meeting so short but can we talk about it some other time, I'm getting a really bad headache, I hope you understand." said the lawyer as the pain started to sting the scars on his head.

The young adults nodded to each other "We understand Mr. Murdocks. Feel free to call us at a better time."said April, making their leave out the firm's door. While the sound of the lock clicking into place gave some comfort, the pain hadn't subsided till the lawyer felt the warmth of his own blood dribble down his face.

A pair of maroon horns now rested on his head, like they had the night before and the nights before that. The horns that cursed him when he was blinded by the ooze that one summers day. As if the devil had change Matts DNA to make him more like himself.

To be continued?

Authors Note: We really need more Rise!Daredevil content. Especially involving the sheep dad of the year, Baron Draxum.

[whumpinggrounds]

hi, excuse me, but I've just read your post on overused disability tropes you posted this late February and I thought it'd ask about one part of it- disability superpowers.

now, I don't disagree that superpowers that essentially eliminate the disability of a character aren't exactly great. take Daredevil, for example. in later issues he even gets the ability to discern the color of objects, somehow- which'd give him functionally better vision than my red-green colorblind, near-sighted brother who works as an astronomer! but what about the "opposite" of that idea: powers or abilities that specifically take advantage of certain aspects of a disability to function.

to give an example of what I'm referring to, there's this idea for a character I've been rotating in my mind for fun: there's this guy, I'd say mid-to-late twenties, somewhat hotheaded, lives in what any casual observer in our society would compare to Hell since the heat helps with his chronic pain. Say that, through some space rock falling on the corpse of his long dead ancestor or whatever, he gained the ability to essentially squeeze himself and whatever he's carrying through "cracks", such as the spaces between tiles in a mosaic or the center of the bathroom door from The Shining, and shoot out of another crack not unlike a portal, with one catch: squeezing through a crack pretty much rips apart his everything and builds it back up at the destination (fluids such as stomach acid don't spill out and come right back to where they were beforehand, since this is already a fantastic scenario and the alternative is Not Fun) which as you can imagine is. not exactly comfortable.

say he was still able to use this ability since he'd have higher pain tolerance (and prescription painkillers) compared to an able-bodied person. would that be an iffy concept?

of course, care would be taken to make sure the character part of the character is also good rep. I'd want him to be interesting!

although I should say that I'm able-bodied, and as such i apologize for any details i might've added or failed to add due to this. hope this ask finds you well!

Hi! Sorry I'm getting to you late; took kind of a break from Tumblr and am just getting back.

First thing I'll say is that I do not want to be in the business of telling people what they should or shouldn't write, or what they should or shouldn't read/watch/enjoy. My only goal is to give people tips and more generally, things to think about to help them critically create or consume media.

In terms of superpowers that exist because a person is disabled - I think it's a really cool idea! Disabled people can have abilities that abled people don't; that is a real life thing that does happen. To give one example, simultaneous communication (talking and listening at the same time) is pretty much impossible in spoken language, which is why it doesn't occur in any spoken language that linguists are aware of. In signed languages, this is not true, and information can be both sent and received at the same time. Or real-life Paralympian and double amputee Oscar Pistorius, who was initially prevented from competing in events for nondisabled runners because his prosthetics were thought to give him an unfair advantage. (No one come for me for talking about Pistorius, I'm really only talking about his running ability, not endorsing him as a person.)

As you've described, the trouble with disabled superheroes comes when their superpowers completely cancel out or negate their disability. This renders them both unrealistic representation (not always bad) and excuses writers and creators from having to properly represent the lived experiences of the community they're choosing to tell stories about (pretty bad, in my opinion). So, finally, we approach your question: Is it bad representation to write about a character whose increased pain tolerance, due to chronic pain, allows him to take advantage of a superpower that is extremely painful?

No, I don't think so!

You can stop here :)

I'm going to keep writing though, even though I dragged you through like three unnecessary paragraphs to get to this point.

As someone who has struggled with chronic pain, and knows and loves a lot of people who struggle with chronic pain, I don't think there's anything wrong with the idea. I think the experience of having increased pain tolerance and pain coping mechanisms is actually very realistic for a character with chronic pain! I'm including a few bonus thoughts here, which you can absolutely skip if you don't want to read them, but that might help flesh out the intersection between this character's chronic pain and his power-related pain.

What does each type of pain feel like, and how intense is it? If he's having a bad pain day, is he still able to use his powers? What effect does that much pain have on his mind and body? If he carries others with him, do they feel pain too, and what is their reaction and tolerance to that pain? What kind of coping mechanisms does he use besides having a high pain tolerance, and what does he do when these methods are not effective?

I am linking my own writing about my own chronic pain; feel free to use that as a resource! Or not! Thanks for the question, and happy writing :)

[emmacreatures]

LURING IT OUT

A fun Ter'ran and Lyle one! Small one for today since I'm a little tense about having my drivers exam tomorrow😭 I feel like I can do it but I am just tired and nervous! Hope this one is still to be enjoyed. I love them a lot!

Ter'ran was stuck with the RDA for a while now, loving to mess around with everyone while he was unable to leave and pretty much stuck. As Ka'am worked better along, Ter'ran was the biggest mayhem creator there was.. Which made his whole stay a bit more complex. Things that Ka'am was allowed to do, was absolutely out of question for Ter'ran. Meanwhile now, Ter'ran has the audacity to start and mock one man in particular, noticing the others didnt seem to budge.. But Lyle? He was a perfect victim for Ter'ran to mess with.

It started off as an innocent approach since Lyle responded the most perfect way to Ter'ran's shenanigans, liking to throw them off guard.. But even Ter'ran realized, through all their fights and rather problematic dumb behavior as it was like causing fire, he started to grow fond of the man that fell for his lures all the time. For the whole group of RDA except for Ka'am ans Ter'ran had a meeting in a different room.. Ter'ran just leaned against a wall, visible from the room they had the meeting at.. Just staring with a smirk at Lyle who eventually noticed. His ears flattened as he wanted Ter'ran to mind his own damn business.. But Ter'ran was just getting started. 'What the fuck do you want?!' he managed to say in sign language while also forming his lips in that, possibly what they used in the marine too..

Making Ter'ran arc an eyebrow before just going loose, wanting to throw Lyle so off guard in the meeting. 'your hands would look fantastic on my waist, showing me whose boss' he said in sign language back while forming his lips back, smirking widely before he'd notice Lyle did not expect it to say the least... Throwing him off even worse than the other times Ter'ran lured him out for fights... This was the first time he said something like that, seeing eventually as Lyle was so messed up now, that Quaritch had to call him to pay attention "Hehehehe" Ter'ran just laughed as he went into another room nearby where Ka'am was just looking at a map, doing work for Quaritch, making himself more thwn useful. Seeing the smug face of Ter'ran, he rolled his eyes.. Sighing. "stop luring out these fights Ter'ran. Eventually he will try to actually kill you" Ka'am said for Ter'ran just sat down on a couch, crossing his legs while putting his arms on the edge of the couch. "Oh common. you can see he just perfectly replies to it, exactly the way that makes this whole thing even more perfect. See him struggle.. Besides, I tried something else this time, this was even better" Ter'ran said for Ka'am frowned. "What did you say this time" "I didnt say anything-" Ter'ran felt his ego pop up, smirking as he noticed Ka'am stand up for it was a more threatening energy. "WHAT? I'm speaking the truth. I didnt say a word; I just signed at him" "What. Did. You. Sign" ka'am asked for Ter'ran sighed.

"You're such a bottleneck at times. I just told him how his hands would look good on my waist; show me whose boss. That doesnt hurt anyone does it?" Ter'ran said as Ka'am widened his eyes slightly. "Wh- Why would you say something like that? Do you even want that to actual happen?" Ka'am asked serious, making Ter'ran hum. "Maybe.. I dont know, I felt like spicing things up. He had no clue what was coming for him, I bet he's all flustered now. Either way, I know he'll come for my ass, its gonna be fun" Ter'ran said as his tail was playfully going along, making Ka'am sigh. "Saying things like that while you might not mean them, just to throw people off, is very stupid to do Ter'ran" "Shush.. Its just having fun. I'm stuck here, so might as well see how far I can go" Ter'ran said; having no shame at all as he really was a daredevil... Making Ka'am sit back at the table... Thinking before he'd almost groan of shame for his friend. "Do you even have any good morals at all??" He said, seeing Ter'ran was just laying down on the couch now, being bored as he didnt seem to be bothered at all.

Meanwhile, Lyle who was so off guard, was called twice by Quaritch now, for Lyle swallowed and excused the fact he wasnt paying attention. 'the son of a bitch is ruining my day again'. he thought before he felt a hand kn his shoulder from Fyke. "Whats gotten into you Wainfleet" Fyke asked for Lyle just pulled himself loose from the hand that rested on his shoulder "Shut the hell up." "LYLE. One more word-" "I'm sorry colonel" Lyle excused himself for Quaritch really was unpleasant about it, going back to his speech for Lyle as soonas the meeting was over, left the second it was possible.

Lyle felt like he needed a distraction, going to their gym area to work out his arms and body more.. He loved the avatar body, despite he wasnt used to anything else despite his thoughts said so. It had so much more potential than before, and it had definitely grown in strength and being well defined.. As much as Lyle bragged that he was handsome, he did have a point. Ter'ran was an asshole to keep an eye on where the man went, noticing after the meeting he left to a room he definitely liked to see people work out. It wasnt like anything he knew in his tribe. "Ter'ran, DONT-" Ka'am tried to keep his friend in the room, but again to no avail.. 'lord help me with this one' he whispered in na'vi.. Sighing as he knew whatever he'd do, Ter'ran would just get himself in trouble.. Almost willingly you'd say.

will add more to this later~👁👄👁