murdock!reader who thinks about dex a lil too much pt.2
(og post) DDBA spoilers included!
Your milkshake is good. The waitress behind the diners counter is nice, she even gave you an extra cherry. A man came up to the counter a while ago, berating her over something small and stupid.
You wanted to bang his head against the counter until you could see his brain. You would have if he hadn’t stormed off, you think. You should have.
He was bothering her and spitting insulting words at her like bullets. You could feel it begin to break through her hard skin, hell, it almost broke though yours. Considering the cruel things that run around inside you, you assume that’s a difficult task. You know this is supposed to be a bad thought, wanting to harm a man so much, but it doesn’t feel like it. He was bad so you must be good for wanting to get rid of that. Right?
There’s no sense in dwelling on it. The man is gone and your milkshake is halfway empty. Matt isn’t here to listen to your heartbeat grow louder and faster at the grotesque ideas you let run through your head so you let them continue.
Something is…wrong, maybe; not bad. Not really wrong either, but it tenses your shoulders and freezes you against the counter. Just Different.
There’s a static in your mind that you never realized was there clearing away. Goosebumps rise over your skin, trickling up your arms until the hair on your neck is rising. Something is clicking into place that’s only even been there once. You think of the church. You think of him overtop of you with that wicked smile and your legs on either side of his hip. You think of the sound he made when the blade sliced through his skin.
He’s here. Nothing is wrong because he is finally here next to you and whatever is in you is spreading through the air to reach whatever is in him.
You know it before he sits two seats away and converses with the waitress. You stare straight ahead, unmoving. You feel him turn to look at you, when the nice lady starts making his banana milkshake. His grin makes you shiver, even when you can’t directly see it. You feel him, in everything, when his voice smooths over your name.
“Hi, again.” It’s all he says before turning away from you and thanking the woman while she places the milkshake in front of him. You throat is closed but your mouth has opened just a bit, gasping for air. He’s on the phone. You can’t hear what he’s saying over your own heart beating in your ear but his voice is like silk, and rumbles deep in your chest.
His milkshake is gone in record time. You haven’t touch yours since he walked in and all of the brutal, crawling, disgusting feelings that have spread all over you disappeared. You still stare forward with pitched breath, and knuckles whitened from your tight grip on the edge of the counter.
There’s sirens nearby but it’s New fucking York so you think nothing of it until AVTF is crowding the diner and scared customers cower away from the counter you sit at. You should run; but you’re still stuck. These people want your brother, who knows what they’ll do to you. But Dex is here. Dex is here and he isn’t moving either, except to raise his hands, so it must be okay.
You turn to truly, fully stare at him for the first time when an AVTF officer yells over his other shoulder. He winks at you, straw in his mouth and his hands raised before he turns the other way.
You watch the agents eyes widen at the sight of him. He’s on the ground then, and before you could understand what’s happening the place is chaos incarnate.
You stand from the stool out of instinct, watching Dex throw knifes with precision that doesn’t seem possible. There’s a buzzing in your mind that replaces all of your usual disturbing thoughts. It feels good; really, really good.
Dex turns to you for a split second when he notices you’re doing nothing but standing in the way of direct fire and gaping at him with heavy breath and sultry eyes. He rushes to you and pushes his forehead against yours while he grabs your hips and pulls you up onto the counter. He doesn’t have to tell you what to do, because you could feel it in him, you could see it in his eyes.
Seconds after you dive under the counter next to the waitress bullets are firing and Dex is overtop of you again. The church, your mind flashes back. This time, though, there is no cruel intent on each other. His clothed hand brushes over your face while your fist grabs a hold of the holster strapped over his chest. His hand glides down and pulls you back up with him when the bullets stop. You stand in front of him when he bounces the silverware from the counter. His chest brushed over your back when he walks over in front of you to a man with a dog. You follow after him because the buzzing in your head tells you he needs you to.
Dex pulls his mask back off to lean down and talk to the quivering man while you step over a dead AVTF agent. God, his face is so pretty. You want to trace over the scar on his cheek, thumb lowering until it’s right over his lips. You want to watch him take it in his mouth and look at you with those sharp blue eyes. You want to run your hand through his pretty, soft hair, and tell him how good he makes you feel just by being right here next to you.
“Oh, don’t worry,” He tells the man, grin so audaciously gorgeous. The silverware in his hands is thrown back into another agent. “I’m one of the good guys.”
You believe him. You have to. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be one of the good guys either. And Dex, there’s no way he’s bad, with that pretty face and how he stops all of the bad in you.
He reaches out to you without looking behind himself like he knew you would follow. He did; the buzz in his mind told him so. Your breath hitches again when he pushes your back against his chest and grabs one last knife off of himself. He was keeping it for you, buzzes in the back of your mind when he guides it down your arm and holds your hand in his.
“It’s fucking Bullseye! It’s Bullseye!” The agent screams from the ground and once he’s finished, Dex bends your arm back with his and you let the knife fly from your fingers. You sink farther against his chest while the man groans in agony and you watch the life leave him together.
Look at him, the buzzing tells you. You glance up behind you to find his crinkled crows eyes gleaming. There’s obsession there, maybe, but you know that’s in your eyes too.
“I missed you,” He tells you softly, with an equally as sweet grin. His hand squeezes yours which shakes from the adrenaline of watching all the blood spilt.
“I missed you, too, Dex.” You whisper, out of breath, but more importantly, right where you need to be. You won’t be leaving him now. Matt and all of his righteousness doesn’t matter here, pressed up against Dex and surrounded by all of the cruelness that has wanted to leave your mind for decades.
summary: hell’s kitchen begins to burn, but politics are seldom messier than the relationships between those closest to you.
warnings: secret relationship, murdock!reader, brother!matt, established relationship, sexual themes, violence, blood, your new favorite unstable couple, angst and slight tension, religious themes, language, mild depictions and mentions of ocd, takes place during season two of born again so probably spoilers, not completely cannon compliant, they’re both a little freaky, mentions and implications of sex, themes of suicide, *ummmm dex likes to bite 😇, death, open ending
a/n: this came from a manic episode, severe stress and the fact that my least favorite character of all time became my favorite in the show (so proud of u, dex 😚🫶🏻)
- ummmm also i’m very sorry.
── ⟢ ➴
the city never did sleep, but you had eventually learned to. life long insomnia had been tamed by a conscious that no longer felt guilty. you had traded ‘hopeful thoughts’ for action and ‘prayers for justice’ for repercussion. your brother stayed on one side of the line; you crossed over it.
you never looked back at that line since crossing it. and matt never followed you.
── ⟢ ➴
the espresso was burnt. how you had managed to burn it, you didn’t have time to figure out. you rested your hand on your side with a wince, ducking your head slightly to check for bleeding.
“shit.”
blood soaked through the t-shirt you wore. the t-shirt you had borrowed. the t-shirt that wasn’t yours.
your ribs hurt worse than they had last night and the bag of frozen corn had proved mostly useless in helping with pain, swelling, or bruising. the wrap had come completely undone, likely while verbally sparring with the espresso machine that was entirely too complicated and entirely too opinionated.
footsteps outside the door stopped you in your tracks as you reached for the knife tucked unceremoniously into your knee high socks. it was very likely just your elderly neighbor returning from the grocery store with cat food, but in your experience the most likely odds for you are always the least probable. you flicked open the knife, reasoning that a knife fight in knee socks and an oversized shirt that was rapidly staining with blood was mildly inconvenient.
you paused, feeling the air thin and then swell with anticipation and adrenaline. there was a single knock, four knuckled, then two consecutive taps with a single knuckle.
he was back.
the tension in the air snapped as you rushed for the door, just as it opened. you threw yourself against the familiar, solid chest and closed your eyes against his familiar scent.
“you’re late.”
his only answer was to capture your lips with his own, one hand behind your head, the other coming to rest on your waist, squeezing slightly.
your breath caught— from the greeting and the pain. he stiffened, stepping back despite your desperate attempt to chase after his mouth and prolong the kiss. his eyes shifted from that determined, needy hunger to confusion as he drew his hand from your side and took in the blood between his fingers. his eyes flicked to you dangerously, almost scolding— before softening with concern and worry.
“who was it?”
“they’re dead.”
“lucky for them.”
he backed you slowly to the kitchen, all intensity and heat despite his evident concern and gradually building panic. his eyes stayed fixed on you as he backed you to the kitchen counter and raised his eyebrows expectantly, in a silent demand. you winced as you eased yourself onto the counter, cool tile against your bare thighs making you inhale shakily. there was a flash of something in his eyes before he gaze dropped to the blood soaking your side.
“you’re wearing nothing but my shirt.”
“i missed you.”
“you’re bleeding on my shirt…”
“i’m sorry.”
he eyed you again, eyes narrowing just slightly like he was trying to figure out some puzzle. he tapped your wrists once and you lifted the shirt over your head with a tired sigh.
“i’m fine.”
“you’re still shit at bandaging yourself.”
you eyed him with the faintest smirk, thinking better of chiding him, “that’s usually your job. next time come home in time…”
“i couldn’t have called.”
“i wasn’t worried.”
you closed your eyes as his thumb brushed against your skin– warm and gentle despite everything else whispered and written about him. his knuckles grazed the side of your ribs and you exhaled.
“what happened?”
“bastard stabbed me.”
“why did you let him get that close?”
you eyed him sharply, eyes narrowing slightly in a silent scold. he grinned just slightly, leaning in to meet your lips again, “just a scratch. nothing we can’t handle…”
you kissed him again, arms wrapping around his neck as he leaned in further, thumb holding the fresh bandage in place, bending you back gently until your back hit the wall. you savored the kiss like you always did— like any one would be your last, like you were kissing a man who was starved. your tongue brushed against his bottom lip swiftly and you bit down on it just slightly. he exhaled like it was a growl, eyeing you again like you were prey.
“you made coffee?” he pulled away from you for only a moment, tilting his head slightly to eye the grounds in the garbage. you were fully planning on taking the garbage out before he got home, but your bleeding had gotten in the way. you tugged on his hair to pull his attention back to you and he shifted further against you with a dangerous look.
“i burned it.” you nipped at his bottom lip and glanced up at him through heavy eyelashes, “clearly i need you with me at all hours of the day.”
his thumb still circled your injury, other hand moving stray hairs out of your face. his thumb stroked along your jaw, down your throat and settled at the dog tags around your neck. he lifted them gently from your neck and brushed his thumb over them. he breathed deeply, forehead now resting against your lips as he closed his eyes.
benjamin poindexter.
the man that had made life particularly difficult for a lot of important, powerful people.
the sworn enemy of daredevil— your brother.
benjamin poindexter– the only other constant you had ever had, the only person you ever let get close enough to your heart to stick.
you glanced over your shoulder at the smell of coffee. a pair of arms wrapped around your middle, nose buried against the crook of your neck, “you’re hopeless.”
“i’m not hopeless!” you smacked dex’s arm playfully, glancing up at him with an amused smirk.
“no, you’re hopeless… i don’t think i can ever leave you unattended again.” he had the smallest playful smile on his face, a look only reserved for you, though it was a look you saw almost daily now.
“fine with me… the bed was cold last night. and i can’t work your fancy machine.”
“that won’t be a problem tonight…” dex slid a small mug towards you, still pressed against your back, still grounding himself in your presence.
“how did it go?”
“easy peasy…”
you nodded, scraping breakfast onto the plate. you pushed the eggs around, laid the bacon in straight lines and had been sure to cut the fruit in perfectly symmetrical slices.
dex eyed you with soft affection, placing his mouth against your cheekbone and giving you the gentlest, loving nip.
“no biting this early…”
he smirked just slightly, taking the plates from you and moving for the dining room table without a word. you watched him with a soft expression- it was the same routine every morning. you would cook some version of the same breakfast, dex would make the coffee. you would watch the stove like a hawk, while he buried his face against you, thumbs gently rubbing your hips, breathing you in before the start of his day. he would set the table, always adjusting the bouquet of flowers in the middle of the table, just slightly. silverware was always set the same, glasses of juice or watered filled to be completely equal.
it hadn’t happened like the romance books. there had been no soft romance, no charming comments or exchanged blushes between you. there was a shared heaviness, a mutual search and longing for something else— a tense silence that lead into the morning, just sitting in each other’s presence. planned murders turned to comparing kill counts over coffee. agreeing to work with each other shifted to a familiarity that was terrifying and comfortable, settling into your chest and trickling down your stomach like your favorite tea. you hadn’t hated him. he respected the way you threw him into a wall to avoid getting shot the first time he unofficially ran into you. he respected you even more when you held a gun to his head, unflinching. then again when you saved his life immediately after almost taking it yourself.
“are you going to shoot me, sunshine? suddenly turned miss catholic again? go ahead… we both know i won’t stop you.”
“not him.”
“oh, why not? why not goddamn daredevil? he’s been a pain in our side for—“
“not him, dex.” the gun shook slightly in your hand but you didn’t lower it, pressing it closer to his forehead to stop your trembling.
“you’ve never once stopped me from taking a shot.” his gaze turned to interest, eyeing you with that expression that dared you to do something.
“he’s my brother.”
“ho-ly shit… all my research and files and i didn’t know horns had a goddamn sister.”
he had been shot in that moment of hesitation. he had thought you really did shoot him, which made his twisted brain only think all the more highly of you.
you collapsed onto your couch, unintentionally bringing dex down on top of you. you always thought you were strong, but dragging him several blocks and up three flights of stairs made you realize you weren’t strong enough.
“very forward…” you could hear the smirk on his face, voice rough and weak, words coming out through the blood in his mouth.
“shut up.” you shoved him off of you, letting him fall back against the couch with a sharp inhale of breath.
“why didn’t you leave me?”
“dex, shut up.”
“you would have made it if you had left without me.”
you glanced at the spot a bullet had grazed your side and hissed. you should have left him. you should have let him fall to the ground and run like hell, leaving bullseye behind and never thinking about him or having to see him again.
you had carried him home— half unconscious, his blood soaking your shoulder as he tried to hold himself up.
leave me, he had growled through pain and the effort of trying to help you with his weight even a little.
“don’t be fucking stupid. i’m not leaving you with those assholes.”
“they would have let me die. i would be out of your hair. in prison, at the very least.”
“shut up, dex.”
you yanked him forward by the shoulder, unzipping his suit to get a better look at his shoulder. “they wouldn’t have let you go back to prison. they wouldn’t have let you walk out of there again.”
“and why do you care so much? you just held a gun to my head.” dex cursed as you yanked his suit down his chest until it sat at his waist, “easy, sunshine—“
you glared at him, jaw tight as you put pressure on his wound. blood pooled around your fingers at the pressure and you cursed, “bullet is still in there.”
“i broke my spine, sweetheart. i think i can handle a little bullet.”
you pushed him back again, causing him to curse once more. “when were you going to tell me daredevil is your brother?” you tore at the first aid kit, ripping bandages with your teeth as you kept pressure on him.
“it never came up.”
“you knew we almost killed each other on numerous occasions… we’ve known each other, what? four months now? i wager i’ve been in the news before that. you know exactly who i am and what i’ve done? why let me— fuck, can you be gentle?”
you smirked just slightly as you adjusted yourself against him, straddling his lap with both hands on his shoulder, “i wasn’t going to let someone else kill you.”
dex hissed as you poured disinfectant on his shoulder, hissing and bubbling as it made contact with the bullet hole.
“holy shit, you’re a big baby—“
this actually earned a smile, blood soaking his mouth as he looked up at you with a look that was almost friendly.
“i need to take the bullet out.”
“have you ever done that before?”
“my brother is daredevil. i can patch people up just as easily as i can kill them…”
dex let his head fall back and inhaled sharply, anticipating the pain and discomfort that would inevitably come. he closed his eyes as your wrist brushed against the side of his neck, shifting closer, nearly chest to chest with him as you leaned in.
there was the soft thunk of metal landing in a plastic tray and dex looked up at you, bewildered, “i didn’t feel anything.”
“i told you. easy peasy…” you eyed him with a soft smirk and suddenly the room felt sweltering. dex fought the urge to reach for his throat, suddenly unable to breathe in enough oxygen.
your hands were so gentle against his skin, soft and delicate— touching him as if he was made of glass. touching him like he hadn’t killed dozens of people with a smile on his face, like he hadn’t worked for the worst of the worst, like he hadn’t nearly killed your own flesh and blood numerous times…
he flinched as your thumb scraped gently against his chest, wiping away the blood in a gesture that was entirely too intimate and delicate. you eyed him with a flash of concern, pulling away slightly.
“i’m not used to being touched.”
“apologies, your highness. next time i’ll let you bleed out all over my couch.”
dex shifted, fighting the urge to grab your hips and push you off of him— or maybe pull you closer— “maybe you should… would save you a lot of trouble.”
“i’ve always been attracted to trouble... why should i run from it now?”
dex never really left after that. he slept on your couch like he had always lived there. you had never actually blatantly expressed permission for him to move it. but you also never once told him to leave… he made coffee in the morning without being asked, he washed the dishes and dusted the lights that you never bothered with. he took up space that you hadn’t realized had felt so empty, he filled the lonely silence with something more comfortable and almost welcome. he never did anything without asking, never sat closer than an arm’s length away, and couldn’t quite bring himself to look you in the eye. but he stayed. every night he would join you on the couch, attention half on the tv and half on you as you read your book with the tv just serving as background noise. he learned your habits, he memorized your routine and he always managed to stay out of the way, while being just close enough to reach out and touch. but he never initiated. conversations only carried if you started them, his jokes were only funny if you laughed first and eventually you couldn’t leave the room without him.
there was a quiet insecurity in the way he held himself. there was the confidence of a man who knew he was good at his job but an emptiness and longing for something more important clung to him like a badge. you watched him over the stove, noting the ways he straightened everything when he walked into a room, the way he double checked his surroundings and would always scan the room before eyeing you with a quick reassurance. it grew familiar and domestic and your shitty apartment had almost started to feel like a home. he was always there. quiet and refusing to take up too much of your space, occasionally glancing up at you for a sign he was doing something wrong. he would lean against the counter while you cooked breakfast, and what had once made your hair stand on edge and had you fidgeting to arm yourself, now felt like a comfortable reassurance.
dex hated runny eggs but liked the way you put them on toasted english muffins with butter and salt. he hated pulp in his orange juice and blew bubbles in his chocolate milk when he thought you weren’t paying attention. he always ate all of one fruit at at time and would eye you like he was solving a puzzle when you mixed them all together in one bite. he liked his coffee black, but made you a latte every morning with a different flavor and meticulous foam art. his presence filled every room with a comfort you hadn’t felt in years. you relaxed easier and slept better, knowing he was there, filling the silence and empty apartment with something foreign to you. he would double check doors and windows each night and every time you fell asleep on the couch, you woke up with a blanket over you and dex asleep on the floor. he never asked about moving out and he never once brought up anything changing. he was a constant. filling every room with his presence even in silence, so much so that you couldn’t remember a time without him. and eventually you didn’t want to think about coming home to a place where he wasn’t…
you felt warm fingers against your bare skin as you shifted into consciousness. dex had his hand tucked under his shirt that you slept in, tracing over the bandage job he did.
he watched you sleep often. it should have been creepy, but it never had been to you. it often helped you sleep through the night— knowing he was watching, knowing he was the first to be there when the nightmares or memories arrived. you had grown used to waking up to his eyes already on you. dex shifted slightly when he noticed your breathing change and felt your skin prickle at his touch.
“it looks good.”
he looked down at you with that look you had only ever seen directed at you. eyes soft and bright, reminding you slightly of a puppy begging for a treat. he was shirtless, still half under the covers, warm against you and wearing only boxers. he had slept last night, then. good…
“you didn’t move all night…”
“didn’t you sleep?”
“i did. you were nearly on top of me most of the night… you seemed cold.”
“sorry…”
“wasn’t complaining.”
it was breakfast when you noticed the shift. you knew something was wrong— you always knew something was wrong by the way he wouldn’t meet your eyes.
“what is it?”
in your line of work, you expected the worst case scenario. something to jump out and kill you in every corner, someone to be shooting at you when you stepped out your door.
“i might be going back.”
you lowered your fork, fingers suddenly too numb to hold it, “what? no. you just got out…”
“just for a little while— you’ll be fine without me. keep your head down and—“
“no.”
you stood up and dex flinched.
“i need you to trust me.”
“i’m not losing you again. what if it isn’t prison? what if it’s you dead in the street?”
“i want you to stay close to daredevil. i can’t have you attached to this.”
“dex.” your voice sounded more desperate than you had intended, “you need to talk to me.” your voice shook despite how hard you tried to stay emotionless. you never could with him— he could read you like a book and analyze every page.
“i got a job.”
your eyes darkened as he looked away from you. there was something there. something he didn’t want to say…
“it could set us up… we might even be able to get out of here…”
“who…” it wasn’t a question. you hated the way your voice shook. you hated the way he wouldn’t look you in the eye.
“vanessa fisk wants me to kill someone. and his lawyer…”
your knees gave out and you stumbled forward to grab the table, “no. you’re not killing him… please, you promised you would never—“ your hand tightened around the butter knife and dex’s hand closed around your own, “it’s not murdock.”
your eyes met his and you saw true sorrow reflecting back at you. your breath left you like a vacuum, heart pounding like your chest was being hammered, “who…”
but you knew. you knew by the way he said it and the way he was looking at you.
“foggy nelson.”
“are you staying somewhere safe?” matt gritted his teeth against the pressure you applied none too gently. he had avoided getting shot, though he now had a knife sticking out of his back and between his ribs. he had been stabbed— they hadn’t been thrown: only one person was accurate enough for those to stick so perfectly and he wasn’t here.
“safe enough.”
you pulled the first knife out without warning and matt yelled in pain.
“careful!” foggy and karen watched you from across the room, both torn between looking frantic and pissed off. you sighed, eyeing them with a bored expression, “he’s fine. he shouldn’t go and get stabbed…” your tone was playful, but there was a scolding to it.
“i haven’t seen you in months. you haven’t reached out, i haven’t even heard anything on the news…”
“i’m fine, matt.”
“are you? the only reason i know you’re alive is because of your heartbeat…”
“you track my heartbeat?”
damn him and his caring brother side that would never go away…
“just checking in. you should call more.”
“i’ve been busy.”
matt laughed, an unamused, bitter laugh. he shook his head with a disbelieving smile. you pushed his head away from you, pressing the cloth against the scrape on his jawline.
“there’s another bullseye…”
your fingers stopped the stitches on his side. matt tilted his head slightly, noticing the way your heart beat had jumped and your body had tensed.
“don’t worry. it’s not him. this one’s sloppy. likely someone hired by fisk as a scare tactic.”
you knew it wasn’t him. the real bullseye was in a cell. rotting in riker’s prison. you had fought the urge to visit him. he hadn’t wanted you to see him in orange, handcuffed. you knew you would have done something stupid as soon as you saw how he was treated in there… he should be home. he should be home with you, complaining about the thread count in your sheets and hugging you from behind as you cooked breakfast.
matt snapped his fingers in front of your face and you flinched, breath catching as you scrambled to gather your thoughts. “where did you go?” matt was staring at you now with that look that said he knew something.
“nowhere. i know it’s not the real one. fisk is bold putting someone else in the suit…”
the suit you had taken off with the care and delicacy of defusing a bomb and cleaned blood off with tears in your eyes. the suit that belonged to the man you tag teamed fights with, shared a bed with, made a twisted yet comfortable life with…
matt inclined his head, waiting for you to elaborate.
“when poindexter gets out—“
“he’s not going to get out. he’ll have life in prison. no shot at parole.”
you breathed deeply, closing your eyes, “i’ve heard differently.”
you had heard that in sixteen days and eleven hours, bullseye would break out of prison. and no one would be safe…
matt was watching you now, as if he really could see directly into your soul. he tilted his head once more and you fought the urge to shake him in frustration. you hated when he analyzed you. you hated that he noticed every change in your breath and heartbeat.
“fisk is going to have poindexter killed in prison.”
the balance you held on matt’s shoulders faltered and you stumbled forward. matt’s hands reached out to steady you, feeling the way your heart raced along with hearing it like a battle cry.
you forced yourself to stand. you forced yourself to show no emotion. your hands were shaking— the room was spinning and your stomach constricted like a vacuum seal. you lurched forward and threw up, all decorum and indifference shattered with nine words.
“are you okay?” matt was standing now, crossing over to you and kneeling, despite his injury, despite his pain.
“i’m fine—“ you couldn’t breathe. the room was shrinking and you were falling several feet.
“what the hell is the matter with her?”
that was foggy, you thought—
matt was talking but you couldn’t hear what he said. there was a roaring in your ears, there was a screaming in your head and your fists clenched around nothing, desperate for something to grab onto— desperate for anything to pull you back to reality.
general pop– you made out those two single words.
no.
your fingers clasped around the dog tags around your neck, squeezing your eyes tightly shut against all of it. he was supposed to get out— there had been a plan— he was never supposed to leave isolation—
“i’m assuming you haven’t found your faith again?” matt’s voice pulled you back slowly— his words echoing and distorted.
“what?”
“around your neck. i’m assuming it isn’t a crucifix…”
you forced yourself to swallow the bile building in your throat, eyes closed as you pleaded with yourself to just breathe.
“no…”
“not a sign of faith, then?”
“it’s something like that.”
your compass. your constant…
dex.
“i need your help.”
dex watched you pace the room in complete silence. his eyes followed you back and forth, sitting with his hands clasped neatly in his lap. you noticed the way he fidgeted. his thumb traced the inside of his palm, his pinky finger tapped against his wrist. he hated fights. he went out of his way to avoid them and the thought of the silent treatment put him on edge.
“can you please stop that?”
his voice had an edge, teeth gritted as if hearing nails on a chalkboard. “talk to me… won’t you please—“
you stopped pacing and dex finally took a breath.
“he’ll win. he’ll win that case against you and you’ll get life in prison.”
“i’ll break out.”
you shook your head, jaw set, “we can leave. we can go anywhere we want… we can run—“
“she knows about you.”
you stopped short, breathing in shakily. he was doing it for you. it was never about money or the future… the only thing that drove him was—
“you.” he stood to his feet and you felt yourself falter. “i won’t lose you. i’ll burn the entire fucking world down…” he crossed the living room and put both hands on your shoulders, “i love you.”
“we can run. we can go— we can—“
“if i leave the city, she’ll have a warrant out for you before we cross the state line.”
“i don’t care.”
“the task force has instructions to kill on sight. she doesn’t want you alive.”
“i don’t care!”
dex grabbed you roughly and pulled you against him. you hit him with a force that would have knocked the wind out of him, burying your face against him and clinging onto the collars of his shirt just to hold yourself up.
“this is the only way.”
“no.”
“i’m not going to let a goddamn thing happen to you.”
“no. you can’t do this. you can’t work for her— you can’t have your name in the headlines again and—“
“look at me…”
“i’ll kill her. i’ll kill her myself and—“
“please look at me…”
his voice was so small. he sounded so vulnerable and gentle. you forced yourself to look up at him despite barely being able to stand.
“you have to trust me.”
you shook your head once, “i can’t lose you.”
“you won’t.” he grabbed your jaw and pulled until you were looking up at him. his eyes burned into you, expression torn between intensity and a softness, “you won’t.”
“what if—“
“hey.” his hand didn’t let go of your face so you had no choice but to look at him. he never liked it when you hid your face from him— or tried to hide your emotions from him. he wouldn’t let you…
“please don’t cry. not over me…” you closed your eyes tightly but dex was already there, wiping a tear with his thumb. “i’ve only seen you cry four times.”
you almost smiled at this, eyeing him in amusement.
“one, when you rescued those girls from that trafficking ring.”
you said nothing, biting your lip to keep it from trembling.
“two, when daredevil died.”
he used finger quotes for this and it almost made you smile.
“three.” this time he pulled you closer, tilting his head slightly like he wanted to get a better look at you, “when you held a gun to my head.”
“four…” he eyed you with an expectant, almost scolding glance. he kissed your cheeks to wipe away the tears and exhaled, “you’re not going soft on me, now, are you?”
your answer was a kiss. still gripping his shirt collar, you dragged him down to your height and kissed him like it was final. almost like a punishment— trying to convey frustration and grief and desperation all without words.
“i’m going with you.”
“out of the question.”
“i wasn’t asking.”
you had visited riker’s prison once before. the last circumstances had been for information— this time it was for something much more delicate. kill anyone that got in the way. matt had made you swear not to kill anyone, of course…
you had had your fingers crossed behind your back.
“i’m going to need you to tell me why the hell we are breaking one of the most dangerous people in new york out of prison?”
“a better question is why you agreed to it…” you had that smirk that matt hated. he had always hated it. it always meant trouble and that you thought you were smarter than him.
“i understand that you think he can be a witness. that won’t help us if he kills both of us as soon as he’s out of handcuffs.”
“he won’t.”
matt actually laughed. “i take it you’ve never actually met benjamin poindexter? let me tell you something— he’s clinically insane. a text book psychopath. his brain is wired backwards and he doesn’t understand right from wrong. he has killed people just because it’s fun for him. there is absolutely nothing stopping him from taking us out too…”
you were still smiling, glancing at him like he was the idiot.
“i hate when you do that.”
“you can’t even see me!”
“i can sense it. stop smiling at me like that.”
“do you trust me or not?”
“you almost killed karen on more than one occasion. i don’t know if trust is a word i would ever use to describe your judgement.”
that smirk again, glancing back at him with a soft smile.
“i need your word that you’ll get yourself out of here if he pulls something.”
“i can take care of myself.”
“please do not underestimate bullseye.”
you unholstered the gun, spinning a knife— one matt would recognize if he got a feel of it— between your fingers, “i wouldn’t dream of it…”
the first two guards crumpled like paper. you really hadn’t thought you used that much blunt force— they were apparently just very fragile.
matt grabbed your shoulder roughly and pushed you aside, “goddamn it, i said no killing!”
“they can walk it off…”
“they don’t have a pulse!”
you frowned slightly and clicked your tongue, glancing down at the guards in disappointment. you shrugged once before kicking the slumped bodies aside and digging for their key cards.
“we’ve been ordered to escort poindexter to general population.”
the man behind the computer eyed you speculatively, sizing you up and down and slowly reaching for a call button. you shifted just slightly, feeling matt about to stop you from doing something that he would deem unnecessary.
“do you have your key cards? isolation is restricted access. i’m going to need to see identification or call the top dogs…”
“yes, we do— just a moment–“ matt was cut off by the flick of your wrist as the paper weight on the desk turned into a projectile weapon. there was a sharp intake of breath as the man behind the desk crumpled forward, blood pooling from his nose.
you glanced over to matt and for a moment you thought he was going to fight you. his jaw was tense, staring at you with a look he had only ever given enemies.
“he isn’t dead.”
“how the hell did you do that with the paperweight?”
oh.
“i only know one person who could have made that shot. you threw it from the front and it hit the back of his head… tell me where you learned that.”
you climbed over the desk as matt surged forward to grab your wrist, “who is bullseye to you?”
“we don’t have time for this.”
“why are you so determined to save him? what could he have possibly done to-“
“there’s no time.”
“you tell me right now or i won’t help you.”
“you’ll let him die? lose the witness?”
“he’s far from innocent.”
you glanced up from the computer and snatched the key card from the top drawer, “so are we.”
“he’s done worse things than the two of us combined.”
“isn’t there a scripture about grace? or what about judgement not being ours?”
matt stopped short, eyeing you with a disbelieving expression, “maybe that’s what this is.”
you snorted bitterly and shook your head, “bullshit.”
“what is benjamin poindexter to you?”
you scoffed and dodged matt’s attempt to stop you.
“i’ll leave. i’ll turn around and leave you to fend for yourself.”
you just eyed him, jaw tight, “then no one will be here to stop me from killing everyone in my way.”
he was pale. too pale. his hair was much longer than you had seen and you weren’t sure you hated it… two guards fully armed were leading him down the hallway when your breath caught. he was carrying himself with the same confidence he always did. he knew this was temporary. he knew he would be out soon…
he didn’t know he was being lead to his death like a lamb to slaughter.
“we need a plan. we can’t just follow him into general pop. we need—“
dex was being lead away from you— right in front of you. the moment he noticed you, you knew his demeanor would change. the polite, good behavior act would go out the window and he would know something was wrong. he only needed to turn around.
“change of plans, asshole.”
you spun the knife in your hand once, keeping your eyes straight ahead.
“you’re being moved to general population. fisk’s orders.”
matt was throwing an arm out to stop you but you were already running. dex wasn’t fighting it. he wasn’t fighting the guards, he wasn’t trying to change direction— and you realized with a sadistic comfort that he wanted this. he craved a fight. he wanted to take down as many people that he recognized as possible.
you spun the knife in your hand once more before letting it fly. it landed just over dex’s shoulder, between the two guards who had ducked to the ground. dex turned slowly, smirk already on his face. matt was already moving— trying to stop the bloodbath that you deemed inevitable. the guards scrambled to their feet, guns pointed at you while dex just stood statuesque. he looked deadly. from the outside he looked patient and collected. but you could practically feel the storm roaring inside him. he reminded you of an apex predator. he already knew he had won. the fight just hadn’t started yet…
the first shot fired and matt leapt over you while you dodged. he would worry about the guards. let him keep them alive rather than let you have the satisfaction…
“hello there.”
dex greeted you with soft eyes and a smug smirk. as if it hadn’t been months. as if he knew you would somehow be there…
“i see you couldn’t wait for my plan.”
“they were going to have you killed.”
“it’s touching that you were so worried. did you just miss me that much?”
“what the hell is going on here?”
matt was out of breath and you didn’t point out that it would have been faster and less work to just kill the guards, rather than incapacitate them.
“a family reunion! nice of you to bring your sister.”
you eyed dex with a cautioning glare and he only smiled wider, “it’s a wonder you convinced her to come, she hates everyone.”
your glare intensified but it only seemed to encourage him, judging by the smirk.
“i take it you two know each other?” matt looked tired and sounded sick of dealing with the two of you already.
“something like that…”
“better than you’d probably like...”
matt’s finger twitched against the sticks at his waist, “what then hell does that mean?”
dex only looked at you with a smirk, silently pleading to just let him have a little fun. you shook your head once, jaw tight.
“i appreciate your help, father…”
“i’m not a priest, you asshole...”
“you sure do preach like one… listen, i think that’s where she gets her tendencies for lost causes. don’t you think she should have just given up on—“
“dex, i swear to god, whatever you have on her— i’ll make sure you never leave these walls…”
dex tilted his head, now looking at you like you had grown a second head, “threatening me, now? which one is it, horns? devil or saint? it must be exhausting trying to play both parts…”
“we need to go.” you didn’t need them getting into it now. there was a reason you had never been in the same room as both of them…
there was footsteps in the distance just as an alarm started blaring. matt and dex continued to bicker and you huffed. “as amusing as it is for you to compare sizes, right now you’re both looking microscopic.” dex gave you a look that was truly offended, eyebrow lifted like he was asking if you were positive about that, “we need to get out of here now. unless you want to fight the entire prison guard—“ there was a second alarm and the doors holding prisoners began to slide open.
fuck.
“i have been bored…”
“we are not killing them.”
you rolled your eyes and put your hand out for dex to return the knife you had thrown. you rolled your shoulders and reached behind your back and pulled out a few more various objects. dex eyed them like a dragon hoarding treasure and grinned.
“you brought him weapons? have you entirely lost your mind?”
you clicked your tongue as you watched dex tuck four things between his fingers, wiggling them slightly. he eyed you with the faintest lift of his eyebrow, acknowledging that he knew you were into it.
“overruled, councilor. the jury pleads…..” dex glanced at you, head tilted once again like an attack dog awaiting a command.
“kill them all.”
“no—!“
matt lunged but dex was faster. you barely saw his wrist move, before four of the nearest inmates collapsed, blood streaking the prison walls.
they had been given weapons. this was all planned…
you crashed into matt as a wave of inmates broke through the doors. he was shielding you like it was needed, but dex wasn’t letting anyone within five feet of you.
“easy!” matt hissed as three bodies hit the ground. you used matt’s back as leverage and leapt forward, knife out and aiming for a throat. matt blocked you and you cursed. his wrist was knocked out of the way and you knew if it had been anyone else it would have snapped on contact.
the floor became slick with blood as dex dropped any body that so much as looked at you. matt was knocking them out nearly as fast and when you paused for only a moment to catch your breath you were knocked forward into dex’s chest. he caught you with as equally accurate precision as he did anything— turning his head slightly to hurl a coin through someone’s throat. you didn’t stop to ask where he had gotten it, but as you looked up at him in the moment of chaos the world seemed to return to its normal orbit.
“you two stay right here.” matt shoved you behind him against the wall and you reached out to stop dex from reacting, “do not move. do not let him out of your sight.”
dex watched matt with a murderous gaze, but his eyes flicked to you once and something flashed behind them. “whatever you say, councilor…” you were grabbing dex’s shirt and pulling him into the janitor closet behind you before matt had even rounded the corner.
dex let out a surprised breath, eyes widening slightly before darkening and focusing on you with a new hunger. he was shaking slightly and you weren’t sure if it was from anger, adrenaline or restraint. he was coiled tightly— pent up and close to boiling over. his jaw was tight, glancing over his shoulder in anticipation for the next fight.
“it’s done…” your fingers were in his hair, pulling him back to the present, “you’re getting out of here.”
isolation was the worst thing they could have possibly done to him. the only thing more deadly than dex was his own mind.
“he was going to have me killed.” his voice shook with something deadly.
“you’re going home. i’m taking you home.” your hand was on the back of his neck, feeling the heat that radiated off of him like an inferno. he breathed deeply, almost not quite believing you were really there.
“i didn’t… you…”
“we’re going home.”
you pulled him forward in an embrace that nearly knocked you off your feet. his head rested against your shoulder, breath coming in rapid spurts. he was trying to pull himself back. he was clinging onto you like you were the only thing keeping him from drowning. and you were. you had been the whole time…
the city seemed to hold its breath. you watched dex pull out his bullseye suit, finding your eyes take him in like it was the first time. he stared at it in silence, as if perplexed. it lay on the end of the bed like an omen— a blue flag waving in a war.
“you don’t have to do this…”
“it’s him or you. i kill him, you stay safe.”
“dex.”
“it’s going to be okay…” it was that smile. the tight smile that he did for your reassurance, even if he didn’t believe it himself. the soft voice that held an edge behind it. the way he was looking at you like he was memorizing every inch. it was the monotone tone. like he was memorizing a script. like he was trying to say whatever would make you feel better.
you just shook your head. feeling the weight of the world falling on your shoulders. every kill, every target, hitting you like dropped bricks. the future you had formed in your head. the possibility of not waking up with him next to you in the morning.
you crashed into him like water breaking a dam. his arms were there to lift you against him without a second thought— drawing you closer to him, legs around his waist, hands anywhere you could reach. something in your mind had snapped at the uncertainty in his voice. he wasn’t sure it would be okay. he wasn’t sure he would come back…
his mouth was on your throat, biting down as he squeezed the parts of you he held up. your eyes practically rolled back into your head as heat took over every inch of you and every other thought evaporated and you were possessed by feral and insatiable need. he was even more than usual— feral and completely snapped. clothes flew across the room, you were thrown onto the bed with a force that cracked the frame. you gasped for air as he was once again all over you— not giving you a single second of reprieve. he had never been good at slow and steady— he had never once hurt you or gone too far or taken too much— but he was never gentle. this was something else entirely.
dex became a man deprived— he was starving and desperate and unable to get enough of you. he was moving in ways that had exceeded even the wildest nights— you were already breathless and dizzy and close to falling over the edge.
“dex—“
he shushed you with a nip to your ear, melding his lips to you once again. you gasped, breath stuttering as the headboard matched the rhythm of your heart. you cursed, your head falling forward on his shoulder, vision blurring slightly as you tried to remember when you had even shifted on top of—
you muttered against his skin, breath heavy and shaking. his arms held you close, locking you against him so you couldn’t move even if you wanted to— or could.
“are you okay?”
you hummed pathetically in response, clinging to him limply. you heard a breathy laugh as his fingers traced small circles on your skin.
“are you?” he shifted his leg roughly to jolt you slightly into consciousness.
you breathed in shakily, eyes closing as your face pressed into his hot, slightly sweaty chest. you focused on the beating of his heart. the way his chest rose and fell rapidly, the way his heart rate slowed steadily the longer you stayed pressed against him.
“you should just stay…”
dex breathed deeply, “you have to trust me.”
“please… please don’t.”
“i will come back to you.”
“dex…”
his thumb traced the chain around your neck that held his dog tags. you inhaled and closed your eyes, forehead resting against his. “i made you a promise… that’s why you wear these, right?”
“i love you.”
dex breathed in deeply, breath shaking, as if he still wasn’t used to hearing it. as if he still couldn’t believe it— didn’t deserve it.
“i love you.” you repeated. you reached your arms around his neck, palms flat against the back of his neck. you ran your fingers through his hair and time stretched and neither of you moved. the apartment was too quiet— the world outside frozen in anticipation.
“it’s time…”
your fingers were numb as you zipped his suit. you tugged his mask down to give him one final kiss. his hands found your waist and he took you in with an intense expression that held you to the spot. you pulled away slowly, fingers still in his hair.
you tugged on his hair gently, resting your head against him and placing a kiss on his forehead, “come back to me…”
“i would never break my promise to you.”
you linked your elbows through dex’s as he bent forward and spun you around. your heel connected with someone’s face and you felt a satisfying crack.
“do you think we should get a dog?”
dex grunted as he flipped you over his shoulder. “what?”
“do you think we could be dog people?”
dex paused to look at you, eyes narrowed. you could read his expression even with the mask. you knew he was looking at you like you were insane—
“you want a dog?”
“i don’t know.” you ducked as dex threw a projectile over your head and it sunk into the forehead of the agent behind you. you grunted as a fist nearly connected with your jaw and threw your hand out and snapped the offending wrist.
“i think,” dex flicked a key ring through the man’s skull, “we have enough difficulty keeping ourselves alive.”
“i’ve heard dogs are good for like,” you yanked a man forward by the shirt collar and slammed his head against the concrete wall, “stress relief.”
dex eyed you, that same unseen but well known expression, “so is this. so are other things—“
you eyed him, “you don’t think we’re the type of people to have a dog? a lot of roommates—“
dex stopped short, “roommates?” another knife sunk into someone’s chest, “is that what this is?” you exhaled, blowing a loose strand of hair out of your face, “is it not? i thought labels made you anxious.”
“i like structure.” dex manhandled you completely and threw you over his shoulder so you avoided getting shot. he shot a warning glare to the guilty party and dropped him in a second, “clear guidelines. boundaries.”
you snorted and ducked under his arm, “boundaries. i recall you practically begging me to s—“
“careful.” dex shoved you behind him and threw the empty gun magazine into the officer’s chest, “i wasn’t the one screaming my roommate’s name last night.”
you shot him a glare and shoved him against the wall, “better screaming than begging.”
dex spun so he now had you against the wall, “whatever helps you sleep at night. which appears to be me, by the way-“
the rooftop felt silent. it wasn’t, of course— new york was never quiet. you were perched on your feet, knees hugged to your chest, eyes on the horizon as if wishing daylight would come and wash all of this away. you could see josie’s diner. you had been there too many times to count— with matt, with karen, with foggy. just as yourself. before you had crossed too many lines to ever look back or show your face in public.
“you don’t have to be here.”
dex’s voice in your ear pulled you back to the present. he knelt with a rifle propped on the ledge of an adjacent rooftop. you only noticed him because you knew he was there.
“i’m not leaving you.”
there was a long sigh, irritated but not surprised.
“isn’t there something in the bible about honoring your husband?”
you snorted and let your head fall back against the brick wall of the rooftop exit, “you would have to ask matt. but i’m sure it’s not biblical to leave my husband for dead.”
“debatable… there’s probably something about honor and a man’s duty to protect.”
it felt sick. the way you were talking so lightly and carrying a conversation like it was just dinner at home. but that’s exactly what he was doing—
protecting you.
taking out the variable that put you at risk.
“dex, i—“
a gunshot sounded and the world stopped.
you knew he didn’t miss.
you knew he hadn’t even hesitated to pull the trigger.
you could hear karen’s screams like they were in your own head.
you watched dex sprint across the distant rooftop, holding your breath as he leapt across. it was over. he could go— you both could run—
movement caught your eyes again but the screams of karen paige blurred your vision and made your head roar.
no.
he was supposed to be blocks away.
your heart beat like it was punishing your rib cage. you gasped for air, feeling the wind suddenly knocked out of you. you stumbled forward on your hands and knees, clutching your chest.
the com in your ear blared and turned to static and you cried out, frantically reaching for it.
“-go—“
“dex? he’s here—“
more static and words cut off, making your heart beat all the more.
“dex!”
“get— out of there— without me—“
sirens blared in the background and your vision tunneled. he needed to make it. he needed to rendezvous with you on this roof— there were shouts and the voice that created them was feral. enraged. murderous.
matt had caught up with dex somewhere in the stairwell. there was the unmistakable thunder of footsteps on the stairs— they faltered, there was several grunts then heavier footsteps and slams. you had forced yourself to move, ignoring the nausea in your stomach and breaking through the door to the roof top.
karen’s screaming mixed with the unmistakable sound of a fight and the sound of something being thrown against metal echoed through the stairwell. there was an unmistakable groan of pain followed by several other curses. shouts and curses drowned out the sirens and roaring in your ears and you stumbled down the stairs as two entangled bodies crashed into you.
no.
you fell backwards and rolled down a few steps, barely registering the pain from it as you stood to your feet once again. matt didn’t even hesitate to start beating dex again. he hadn’t even noticed you— he hadn’t even felt you there. he was taken over by complete rage— so lost in it that you recognized the look on his face.
dex’s mask was gone— matt’s was cracked– both were bloody, though dex had gotten the worst of it. you rushed forward but stopped short at the sound of a fist coming into contact with a jaw. and dex was laughing.
he wasn’t fighting back…
he wasn’t defending himself.
his nose gushed blood, his mouth was coated with it. he was practically choking on it as he laughed. and laughed. and finally met your eyes.
there was acceptance there.
dex looked at you and you swore he saw into your soul. he tilted his head slightly, grinning. matt had him by the chest of his suit, pulling him closer, shaking him, hands shaking as he fought to stop himself.
you tried to move. you tried to scream—
dex lifted a hand, eyes no longer on you, “do it. do it you fucking coward. i killed him.”
matt screamed something you couldn’t make out and slammed dex’s back into the concrete wall. the way he inhaled sharply snd exhaled shakily you knew ribs had cracked. but he still laughed. he laughed like he had won. like this was exactly what he wanted.
something in your brain snapped– you watched from outside of your body as matt lifted dex up by the shirt. the world slowed as your feet finally made the decision for you. you reached matt as he was hoisting dex over the edge of the roof. your hands tightened around his shoulders but he was unreachable.
something in him had snapped— his toe was on the line this time. he may actually cross over it—
“no— matt— don’t do this!” you were grabbing at him desperately but he may as well have been a brick wall.
he shoved dex once more so he was leaning completely over the edge, head tilted back in a final laugh. the only thing keeping him from falling was matt’s hold on him— and your pathetic attempt to grad ahold of something was futile.
dex’s eyes landed on you and he was still smiling, complete peace and sanity in his face as he met your eyes.
“i love you.”
matt let go with a feral scream. it was like a battle cry. like the act had physically ripped something from him—
your scream is what snapped him out of it. you were scaling the guardrail already, blindly attempting to go after him— to catch him—
to stop—
arms around your waist lifted you up and dragged you away. you kicked, you screamed, you beat against the hands holding you, you lashed out and flailed, screaming like a feral animal being captured.
but you didn’t see the fall.
you heard it.
the church was silent. it was empty aside from the two people standing before the priest— not yet ordained, he had made sure you understood. it was poetic. you had had too many big moments happen here. you had grown up in this church. you had grown up in its walls, building resentment and your own beliefs until it all bubbled over into the person you were now. the screwed up, consciousless monster.
matt would have laughed himself sick if he saw you right now. then he would strangle you for not telling him… he would have been there. he still would have showed up. disapproving, horrified, betrayed and furious. but he still would have come. had you asked him. had you told him any of it…
“skip to the end.” dex eyed the not yet priest with a sharp gaze and the man paled several shades. he closed the bible and tripped over his own words stuttering and hiccuping nervously.
“vows… i— vows—“
dex shot the priest a glare and he nearly fell down all together. you nudged dex impatiently and he eyed you with an almost guilty expression, “apologies, father.”
“i’m actually not—“
dex shot him another sharp glare and you exhaled slowly.
“right- do you… you take each other…”
“benjamin leonard poindexter,” he always had that smug smirk when you used his full name. he never heard it any other time— you had attached it to good memories. now it only brought the promise of everything he had never had. “i’m yours. for anything this messy, fucked up life we’ve created throws at us.”
dex looked ravenous at your words and you worried he would act on that feral look in his eye. the pastor paled more, stepping back slightly like the presence of both of you was pushing him down into the ground.
dex tugged on your arms like he did to drag you down onto his lap. you breathed out in surprise, letting out a small laugh. he eyed you like you were his next security detail– like only his eyes on you would keep you safe. he used your full name and you nearly collapsed, “— murdock,” he glanced at the priest as if daring him to let any of this leave the room, “you have all of me. something i never even thought i would have for myself… you– you understand parts of me that i don’t even recognize. you embrace the parts of me that should never see the light of day… everything i am is for you— because of you. it’s you and me… even through all our vigilante shit and whatever may come after that… ‘til death do us part, right father?”
he nodded, somehow looking even paler, “yes— that’s…” you suspected this man secretly hoped death came sooner rather than later for both of you. or maybe he really only knew who dex was and had no idea that you had killed just as many people in less messy ways.
“i now… i now pronounce you man and wife…”
dex dragged you against him in a kiss that had no business being in a church.
you had nearly knocked matt out in order to break away from him. he was chasing you— and for a brief, impossible moment, you thought you were next.
“what the hell are you doing here?”
you couldn’t breathe—
“tell me why you were on the roof tonight!”
your side burned like it was on fire and you didn’t know if it was from the stairs or fighting off matt. you nearly kicked him down the stairs to get past him— you had to get outside— you had to see—
“answer me, goddamn it! tonight of all nights!”
you dodged a billy stick but kept running.
“you weren’t here to stop him!”
the world was slowly crushing you— your feet seemed to sink as you ran, waves were crashing over your neck—
“no—“
you stumbled through the ground floor exit and collapsed onto the sidewalk beside what was left of the man you had followed here.
“what is he to you?”
it was his final warning tone. you could sense him standing over you, armed— like he really would use it. tears blurred your vision and you gasped for air as you cradled dex’s head in your lap.
there was so much blood—
blood had never made you sick…
you choked on a sob and matt was grabbing your shoulders.
“no—“ you wouldn’t leave him. not without a fight. you swung your fist but it was a weak punch and you couldn’t see through the tears. matt easily ducked and grabbed your wrist. you felt your body lift slightly and scrambled to cling onto dex—
“what is he to you.”
matt had stopped fighting you but was now holding you like a convict.
“everything!” you spat it like the words were venom– like they had hurt to break out of your chest. your hands shook as they came up covered in blood.
“he…. is everything.. to me.”
matt looked up at the sky and shook his head. his hands were on his head, looking very close to losing it. he muttered several curses and began pacing. you had done it…
whatever relationship was there had shattered.
matt couldn’t even look at you— didn’t look at you. he took a step back and stopped trying to pry you off dex’s body.
“take her away. she’s conspiring with bullseye. she has been wanted for years…”
you were hauled to your feet and your hands were yanked behind your back. you fought it, you fought them, screaming and kicking and trying to drag your way back to him—
“don’t make this worse.”
he had turned you in. he had—
you turned furiously and lunged at matt, who didn’t even flinch. he took a casual step back and looked at you with a disappointment that went deeper than his soul.
and it was matt who knocked you out before you hurt yourself or someone else.
Headcanons for being Matt Murdock’s child (Part 5)
Matt Murdock x child!reader
warnings: guns, blood, death, etc. daredevil!!! oh and obvi DDBA spoilers babe
a/n: LONG AWAITED FIFTH PART BASED ON BORN AGAIN SEASON ONE. also part 4 kind of makes it seem like y/n is a lil immature and possibly younger? ignore that i didn’t know what was in store for them yet LMAO. also ah fuck this got long. and also fuck you (affectionate) i know i swore i’d never do The Thing but i did it. youre fucking welcome. and also. no. part 6 wont come out until DDBA S2 is fully out <3
prompt:
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5
despite a LOT of pushback from your dad, you joined the police academy
oh, to be a fly on the wall during that conversation
“a cop? in this city? of all the things you can do, you want to be a cop?” -matt
“maybe i want to be a cop to clean up this city the right way. you ever think of that?” -you
“oh, so this is to get back at me for daredevil” -matt
“no, dad, this is not about you. i made my choice. deal with it or dont, it’s out of my hands” -you
shit, the police force was not a fan of your father, the defense attorney, either
nor were they a fan of daredevil
you kept your mouth shut on those kinds of subjects, tried to keep work and life separate. something your dad never seemed to be able to do
you survived the blip—lucky for you, matt, foggy, and karen
and you really did try to support nelson, murdock, and page to the best of your ability
“hey, kid. listen—i am proud of you. you stuck to your guns, you made a choice despite how others would feel about it, and you’re already succeeding in your new career. to hell with the rest of them, you’re doing good job” -foggy
karen was quietly supportive as well, helped calm matt down with reason whenever he got nervous about your chosen career
“what if y/n gets hurt? what if they try to do the right thing instead of running for their life?” -matt
“then they’ll have learned from their fearless father” -karen
“i should have been a better role model” -matt
“yeah, too late for that one” -karen, patting him on the shoulder
the other cops on the force gave you hell, but that was expected
you were a native new yorker, nothing phased you
and after some time, matt learned to accept reality and damn, he was starting to understand how he made you feel
you hadn’t lived with matt or foggy in a couple of years, since you were a rookie
now you were about 24, been on the force a few years—a real star, up for detective!!
and you could actually drink at josies!!!
“god, it still feels weird serving you” -josie
“remember when you were giving me shots of coca cola?” -you
“you’re making me feel old!” -josie
josie gave you your first drink, a shot of o’melveny’s by foggy’s insistence
you had a shot of it when you turned 21, graduated the police academy, got hired by the NYPD, and a few odd times when NM&P had a win
and foggy loved to see a smile on your face now that you weren’t weighed down by all that matt put on you
“i wish you could see just how happy y/n looks. they breathe easier, smile wider, no more dark circles around their eyes. it’s good to feel like family again” -foggy
“i can feel it, don’t worry. the breaths, heartbeat, and i hear y/n’s laugh all the time. i wish i could have given them this peace of mind when they were younger” -matt “wish i had peace of mind. haven’t since they joined the NYPD”
speaking of nypd, it was weird being there
especially since midland circle. no protective detail. no scared teenager and metahumans. just another badge on duty
you might have been the youngest detective the NYPD ever had, and you don’t think it would have been without your history. growing up at a law school, around lawyers, in a law firm, with vigilantes. THAT was what made you a strong cop. a strong background. strong spirit.
and the day you were promoted you got another shot of o’melveny’s!!!!!!
“fuck, i hate that shit” -you
“always with the mouth” -matt, patting you on the back
“always with the judgment” -you, raising your glass to his “love you, dad. wouldn’t be here without you”
“what? no love for uncle foggy?” -foggy, heckling
“you know what? come here, i’m gonna destroy you in pool!” -you
matt and karen sat together and talked about you
“i remember when y/n was little and so full of fire” -karen
“and full of it” -matt, quickly being swatted by karen “i’m kidding. i just can’t believe they’re grown up now. fuck, when did my kid grow up?”
“y/n’s always been grown up unfortunately” -karen
“don’t guilt trip me now” -matt
“i’m not trying to, i’m just saying y/n’s always had that head on their shoulders. got it from you, obviously. but i can’t help but be proud of how they turned out. a detective by 24? that’s fucking unheard of. and everyone at the department gives them shit for being a murdock” -karen
“life of the defense attorney—always making enemies” -matt
*you approaching and matt and karen shutting up*
“i kicked foggy’s ass” -you
“knew you would” -matt
not long after this day, you’d be at josie’s again and be attacked by bullseye
and as the only cop on scene, you had to do things by the book
“dispatch this is detective murdock—badge number 0464, need immediate backup and mutiple RA’s for an active shooter at josie’s bar. i repeat, shots fired, several civilians down. hurry. please.” -you on the phone with 911, trying not to lose your shit as foggy lay bleeding on the sidewalk “hang in there uncle foggy. help’s on the way”
you took a few shots at bullseye, but nothing seemed to land as your hands were shaking and karen was screaming next to you
by the time help arrived, you had a bullet in your arm and were covered in foggy’s blood
you only took a week of leave
you could have killed poindexter yourself—but that wasn’t who you were.
foggy’s funeral was one of the worst days of your life because you knew he wasn’t coming back
not like matt, where you always had that sneaking suspicion he’d be back—and you were right
or elektra—who didn’t stay dead the first time
you watched as the casket closed on foggy, you watched as everything you knew fell apart. karen moved away, NMP closed shop, matt opened a new practice, and life moved on.
you spent the night at matt’s whenever it was too hard to bear
and the door was always open
sometimes matt would find you sleeping on the couch when he woke up, make you breakfast like old times
you were still his little kid in his heart. the one who’d beat him in the chest when you were mad at him, call him names, slam doors, beg for him to come home in one piece.
now you were his kid who carried a gun and a badge and was one of the few cops on the force worth trusting
but you still liked waffles
“made your favorite” -matt, gently waking you
“thanks” -you
you looked at old photos of you and foggy, matt, karen, whoever. it just made you feel closer to them
and there was a “family photo” on your desk at the precinct
about a year later, poindexter was sentenced and a weight was lifted off your shoulders as he was put away for life
but other problems arose
specifically, wilson fisk’s candidacy for mayor
“this is insane! there’s no way they’re gonna vote him for mayor. after all he’s done to this city? absolutely not!” -you, spiraling
“my thoughts exactly” -matt, not far behind
it was hard not to focus on the looming threat
and when the election results were revealed, it was safe to say you were on the verge of a complete crash out
“dad, i can’t work for that man! after all he’s done to this city and my family? fuck this!” -you
“i know, i know” -matt, hiding the fact he has met with fisk recently and been threatened about his vigilantism
the issue is fisk knew who you were. and you were NYPD, and he oversaw this department
you were purposely picked for the anti vigilante task force he’d put together
“murdock,” -fisk, almost threateningly “it’s been a long time”
“wait, you know y/n?” -powell
“i know their father. matthew murdock” -fisk
oh that shit did not sit right with the rest of the task force. especially after hector ayala’s case
fisk forced you to quit (not that it wasn’t coming anyway. fisk calling the shots just didn’t sit right)
ohhh you were pissed
“fuck! all my hard work in the force—gone! this stupid vendetta fisk has against vigilantes” -you
“this is my fault, y/n—” -matt
“no! don’t even go there. i don’t want to hear it. that was ten goddamn years ago!” -you
you’d started to feel as helpless as you did ten years ago. it wasn’t pretty
and you took this time to rethink your priorities
speaking of—here matt was just starting to enjoy life. you liked his new girlfriend, heather, matter of fact
a step up from elektra. sorry. who isnt. your dad knew how to pick em
“y/n, im sorry to hear about your departure from the NYPD. do you want to talk about it?” -heather
“i’d rather not. lots to unpack” -you
matt was angry you had to give up your career because of fisk. you were forced out. just because of a vendetta fisk had against him. you were never supposed to get involved
but as matt had started investigating as daredevil again, you began to understand him on a far deeper level than ever before
a helpless defense attorney trying to make a difference, a pariah detective who wants to do the same
something clicked in you that day
something you swore you’d never do, never accept, simply never be
matt was busy investigating muse
that case closed quick, but the problems continued without fail
who killed hector ayala? how do you defeat fisk? when would you be safe? was heather really trustworthy? why was foggy really killed? it never really ended—but no matter what career you or your dad pursued, that was a given
“dad?” -you
“yeah?” -matt
“where did it all go wrong?” -you
matt’s heart sank
“i think you know the answer” -matt
“i don’t think i do anymore” -you, realizing you were more in the dark about daredevil than you thought. yeah, you knew fisk was a problem. and you knew bullseye was a psycho. and elektra set you guys back a few times. and you were exposed to some things too young. you knew all that. you just didn’t know where it began.
“one day i think things will be okay again” -matt, lying
“i know you’re they guy with the heartbeat lie detector, but i can tell you’re lying to me” -you
“we’ll figure it out” -matt
you missed the lighthearted days
life so was foreign these days
it was JUST you and him now
you got the occasional text from karen but it wasnt the same
drinking together was always glum, breakfast brought back bad memories, a dinner at a restaurant made you stare at the empty seat beside you, and when matt put the cowl back on you were back to your conflicted self
until you made your way into matt’s stash and took a cowl of your own
matt’s getup mixed with some of your tactical gear from the PD, mixed with some old boxing gear from when you were younger…there you were. the adult child of a vigilante wearing his own uniform. it always comes around
“this is fucking stupid” -you said, ripping it off and shoving it in a bag
not long after this you were sitting in a hospital room after matt was shot in the chest at fisk’s gala
“you never fucking learn, do you?” -you
“nope” -matt
“smartass” -you
“you learned it from me” -matt, groaning through pain
heather was present, still a bit upset from the scene. kirsten brought her out soon after, giving you more time to drill into your dad.
“you know, i have seen you and foggy get shot more than once. it is genuinely insane to me that you are still jumping in front of bullets. i know i’m an adult now, but i still need you” -you
“i’m a shitty dad, just say it” -matt
“no, you’re not. you were. and then you turned your life around but now we’re headed in the same direction with a whole new set of possibilities. this isn’t daredevil versus kingpin. this is the people versus fisk. pick a side” -you
“i wont stand by and let poindexter murder anyone else” -matt
“which is why we keep losing” -you
you left the hospital to get the suit you’d made “in case of emergency” and soon the power went out. a bold move on fisks part
and as you made your way into your dad’s apartment, there stood frank castle in the flesh
“little y/n? damn, it’s been a minute” -frank
“did we ever actually meet?” -you
“nah, your dad was a hard ass” -frank
“still is” -you
“heard you joined the force” -frank
“yeah. made detective and everything. forced out by fisk. now, im doing my own thing” -you, masking up “you have a gun i can borrow?”
“fuckin’ course i do,” -frank, handing you one of his collection “never thought i’d be giving a murdock a gun, but happy to do it. especially if it pisses off red senior”
matt was home soon after and still a bit beat up, luckily you and frank were there to help
you shot to maim, frank shot to kill. matt was horrified nonetheless
“you put on my mask and hold a gun? what is that? what the fuck is that?” -matt
“this is what tonight has to be” -you “fuck, dad. this is not the time! you think i’m here to drop as many bodies as i can? absolutely not! but if we can stop the people who are dropping innocent bodies, so fucking be it! i became a cop to protect this city from this shitty, broken system and now look! i’m wearing this suit i begged you not to put on for years!”
“you think this is what i want for you?!” -matt
“can you fuckers just stop arguing for a minute, jesus. it’s always something with you two. man, if i had my kids back for a minute, i wouldn’t care what the fuck they were doing. and if my kids decided to make a change for the better, i’d be damn proud—so shut the fuck up and let’s put these fuckers down!” -frank
you soon jumped out of a window due to a BOMB <3
oh when karen saw you in the daredevil suit she cried LMAO
“y/n, you have to be kidding” -karen
“can you guys stop parenting me for five minutes? my city is on fire, i only have one way of stopping it, and you know the nypd is on my ass too? murdocks don’t get a break. you started it, dad” -you
angsty ass
i mean. warranted
frank spent the whole car ride chuckling to himself
like genuinely this was so funny to him it really did come full circle
but it did make him a little sad that he didn’t have a kid to bitch at him or for him to bitch back at
matt was lucky nonetheless
but then again, frank didn’t want his kids following the footsteps of the marines or punisher.
once you guys got back to frank’s bunker, he decided to tap out
you handed his gun back
“keep it, kid. you’ve earned it.” -frank “matter of fact, take this smaller piece, too. tuck it somewhere safe, just in case something happens. you get caught or something. i know those cop bastards will look so hide it good” -he shoved another gun in your hand, some additional rounds too
“i used to be one of those cop bastards” -you, chuckling
“i forgive you. at least you got good aim out of it” -frank
you went with karen and matt to see if you could get to the bottom of foggy’s death, which was eating you alive at this point. you were a cop at that point, you wished you’d have known so you could have protected him. somehow. someway.
the storage locker was cathartic. lots of memories. some closure. especially as the red hook information unveiled itself
“it all came down to this” -you
“it’s not over yet” -matt
“sure feels like it” -you
“hey. hey. forget everything i said, all of it. doesn’t matter. im proud of you. i was proud of you then and im proud of you now. i’m honored you put on the mask with me, no matter how much it freaks me out. no matter how worried i am about you. no matter how much we disagree i will never not be proud of you and happy you are here with me trying to make a difference” -matt, grabbing your face
Her name is Mary Murdock & the thing is that this spiderwoman's canon event wasn't just that she lost someone else, it was also the fact that, in many ways, she lost herself.
She is the daughter of Matt Murdock & in her upper teen years, she was kidnapped & sold into sexual slavery. Her father, of course, eventually found her & saved her life as well as the lives of the other teens, children, & women, but by then, she'd already been… damaged…
Despite everything, Mary had intentionally drawn as much ire from their captors as she could in order to divert as much of their attentions away from the others as she could. She didn't necessarily always succeed, but she tried her hardest. She did everything she could to protect the other victims, but she could only do so much.
She saw... so many horrors there... So many horrible, twisted things that she swore that she heard God's voice comforting her as she slept at night. Keeping the nightmares away. He told her that her dad was coming & God never lies, so she believed Him. And she was filled with a determination to do it all again the next day. Then the next, until finally, her dad came to save them. Not Daredevil, just Matt Murdock.
During her time there, she became as an older, very protective sister to the younger ones there. Even long after getting out & everyone was returned home, she kept in contact with them all. Except for one, he had no family to return to & at her request, Matt adopted the boy, Jude.
He has... the poor boy went through a lot. And his new family helped him to process those thoughts & memories. Though, for a good while he was attached to Mary at the hip.
Since then, Mary was filled with an unbearable rage & vowed to have every last sack of shit abuser & slaver & sexual offender that she could manage, put on death row. Especially the ones who dared to touch children! So, she studied as a prosecutor & had her father teach her self-defense before eventually being bitten by a radioactive spider.
In the face…
The spider's poison took her vision from her much like her father's had been, but gave her spider powers. Including organic spinnerets that produced webbing as strong as steel, proportional strength of a spider, the strongest spider sense out of all the Spiders, & even better senses than Miguel. The last two mixing together to almost become a sonar. She also has venom similar to Miguel, but hers has a different effect.
She's also extremely good at creating traps with her webbing. If you remember that one Spiderman movie where Peter uses his webbing to make a spiderweb & used it like a spider to capture the Lizard; Mary does that a lot too. Especially when she's planning on ambushing criminals. Basically, she senses the vibrations that run along her webs. Her heightened senses allow her to detect even the most minute of movements & judge the weight & force behind what caused the movements. She can even sense things through the webbing to a degree. In a similar way to how cats can sense things through their whiskers.
As a result of her heightened senses, she also has heightened instincts & intuition, allowing her to be able to positively identify natural phenomenon such as weather & other natural disasters, predatorial intent in a similar way to animals, & even supernatural phenomenon to a degree. She can even track using scent, however that's something she needs to practice.
Her father, Matt, had denied allowing her to be a vigilante before, but now, he literally could not stop her. So, he might as well prepare her the best he could. He hated that she'd jumped so easily into this life, having tried so hard to shield her from it, but at the same time, he understood. He trained her in the advanced way of fighting blind, having taught her the basics before, just in case.
She has never been under any delusion that there wasn't some degree of desire for revenge in her motivations. She's honest enough with herself to not allow such lies within her own mind & knows that she is no better than any human & thus she is prone to selfishness at times like anyone is. However, just because it's partially for her own sake doesn't take away from the fact that 75% of her motivation was to rescue those who weren't so lucky as to be saved & to keep as many away from that life as possible. She's also trying to get better about that through emotional growth & God's aid.
Mary became the best prosecutor in the country, not to mention having studied in criminology, criminal psychology, audio Hellstromism, investigative science, & forensics science. Girl threw her back into helping her city in whatever way she could.
While she also deals with a lot of super villains like any spider, her main focus is on the systemic corruption & exploitation of the innocent by the rich. Corrupt corporations, black market dealings, criminal organizations, organ harvesting, human trafficking. She deals with the darkest side of justice.
She also studies engineering & chemistry, but it isn't the sort of thing that she's invested in the way the other Spiders are. It's more a means for her to accomplish her actual goals. Jude is sorta her man in the chair & normally, she has him be her eyes for things like actually seeing blood or finger prints. Like, her sense of smell is strong enough that she can basically smell blood & when someone's touched something, but it's nice to be able to confirm that she's right.
She also has investigative features such as video & audio recording devices, luminal spray, a pressurized spray that acts similar to aluminum power but in spray form, she can press the palm of her suit to a fingerprint & it'll record it to be analyzed by her in-suit computer.
Miguel actually gave her an AI to identify & analyze things visually. This way, she won't have to rely so much on her little brother. His name is Alfie & he's Jude's buddy.
Anyway, even though she's as much of a powerhouse as any Spider, she's actually more stealth-focused as her preferred branch of crime fighting requires a lot of investigation. She's, likewise, mastered the art of going unnoticed. Which means being seen, but it doesn't register. It's all about posture & the energy you give off & whatnot. She's also the most silent Spider anyone knows.
As for her civilian identity, she is called the Ice Queen of the Courts. She has a near perfect record. The only reason she doesn't is when she knows for a fact that the defendant isn't guilty. She also takes such "defeats" with grace, congratulating her opponent's & wishing the defendant well. Yet in her mind, she still has a perfect record. Because the thing that matters most to her is the innocent being given their rightful due & the guilty likewise. As such, to her, she still won.
Because you see, when she knows for a fact that the defendant is guilty, she always wins. And the sentence is always to the fullest. Especially if she turned the bastard in personally. Is always able to prove their guilt to such a degree that not even the most corrupt judge is able to avoid sentencing without some serious side-eye & investigation of them. As a result, she is utterly detested by the corrupt sects of the justice system, which she wears as though it were a badge of honor. (Though, it does tend to result in her civilian identity & her family being targeted. Which she hates.)
She's both proud of & demoralized by how sharply child molester deaths in prison has increased, because on the one hand, it means that there are just so many of them out there, but on the other, she's at least making progress in her extermination efforts.
Because that's what these people are to her; parasites, vermin, pests. Good for nothing but wasting space & resources that could be better used elsewhere.
It's taken a her a long time, but she takes comfort in the words of Romans 8:28. "All things work together for good to them who love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose." As while what happened to her was wicked & evil, she believes that it was allowed to happen so that she could become what she has. A woman who lives her life protecting people & especially children, with as much vigor as she does.
Of course, she never breaks the law. Maybe bends it a bit, but never breaks it. As far as anyone knows that is & if it was ever revealed that she was the Spider of her New York, she'd be able to easily defend her actions under the self-defense, defense of others, & other such laws.
Her influence has also been attributed to why so many corrupt cops & judges have been revealed & imprisoned.
There have, admittedly, been times when she, as Angel Spider, has had to fight such evil individuals, personally, having caught them in the act. (Not often, but it does happen.) And, there have even been instances where she's had to kill them, specifically when protecting others. However, in such situations, she's been able to defend herself as Angel Spider by using the defense of others law as her spearhead.
Interesting thing, even Super Villains don't mess with Mary Murdock because even they see molesters as the scum of the earth. Hell, Sandman openly protected her at one point because of it. Turns out he's an avid despiser of people who hurt kids being a dad & actually can't bring himself to hate Angel Spider due to her own very vocal disgust with child abusers. This results in Mary being determined to help him rehabilitate. (He later becomes a semi-casual hero in her universe & the 2 regularly team up. He dads her a little bit.)
Anyway, her father, despite himself, is exceptionally proud of her. Which is partly why it was so devastating when he was killed & became her canon event.
Mary refuses to take up the Daredevil name, not because she's ashamed of her father, but because she doesn't just want to strike fear into the hearts of criminals, she also wants to instill said criminals' victims with comfort. Similarly, she just does not want kids to associate devils with comfort & goodness. As such, she becomes Angel Spider. At night, her suit becomes almost pitch black, turning her into Night Spider, allowing her to fade into the background of the city at night.
While she has the characteristic, expressive spider-eyes, they're not see through & work mostly like cameras for Jude to see what she's doing & when he's not available, she records everything so he can look through it when he has the chance.
Her name & alias is a reference to cobwebs which are also called Angel Hair & Mary's Yarn.
Plans to name her firstborn son some variation of Timotheus meaning "one who honors God," Timmy for short; after Saint Timothy, who protects children. Ending up with Miguel, she names him Timoteo instead.
For Spider Society, she is a very sobering reminder that there are far darker evils in the world than super villains. Just her presence tends to encourage those around her to begin following her example & trying to deal with those same demons within their own worlds.
Peter B. had been especially struck upon learning her story, he'd tucked Mayday even closer to his chest as his mind replaced the scene with someone so dearly irreplaceable &... he just couldn't ignore it.
He was like a man possessed & begins rooting them out in his own universe whenever he could.
Pete becomes really protective of the youngsters super quick as a result. A little overbearing even.
Black Cat is a dude in Mary's universe & every bit as... Black Cat... Black hair, green eyes. Very teen heartthrob after college. Dude's a complete fuckboy. That's all I'm gonna say. Also extremely bisexual. Or... maybe he's just pretending to be to mess with her? She isn't sure. He's one of the only people she knows who she can't get a good read on.
He certainly flirts with enough men. Then again, maybe he just flirts with everyone regardless of whether he finds them legitimately attractive or not?
He's a mystery & hasn't been her type since she got out of college.
Mary is generally a pretty serious individual, but she can be funny in that she has a dry wit & deadpan humor. Doesn't do much witty banter in battle, but will banter at home whenever.
Enjoys debate & is an advocate of common sense.
She can also be mischievous, but more so in little ways.
Can think circles around most people with PhDs.
A master tactician.
Is actually a Dungeon Master, which she says helps her to be a resourceful & flexible strategist because players are chaos grimlins.
A very quick, on-the-spot thinker as a result.
DMs for Jude & his buddies, who all just think she's the coolest. Also sometimes DMs for the younger Spiders, but she actually prefers to be a player at Spider Society. Her current build is Shinigami Ninja which works like a multiclass of a Phantom Rogue & a Shadow Monk, just without the multiclassing. It's a subclass that she homebrewed herself.
Does a lot of homebrewing as she tends to be very creative.
"She(or he/they)'s fine. She(or he/they)'s just being dramatic." For Daredevil? I'm excited to see something from you for that fandom (i don't remember any works before?)😊 but no pressure, you can choose a fandom if Daredevil is not agreeing with your muses!
Thanks for sending this in! Daredevil is a new one for me—I’ve just started watching so thought it might be fun to try it out! This is a part 2 to the first daredevil request.
“He’s fine. He’s just being dramatic.”
The words were like a reflex, coming out quickly anytime she did something unsavory directed toward Matt—like elbowing him in the stomach or smacking his arm—while out in mixed company. She knew very well that her brother could’ve easily stopped her hitting him if he wanted—he was stronger than her on a good day and today, she was barely standing, weak and leaning on him for support, and beyond that, Matt had sensed the elbow was coming whether from his special abilities or from simple historical evidence of how these things usually went—but he’d let it happen.
He hadn’t stopped her, instead offering a quiet, defeated ‘ow’ when her elbow collided with his side and that alone had her rolling her eyes as the beautiful, young nurse behind the desk looked on in sympathy for her brother—she clearly assumed he was to be the patient and that his companion was potentially abusing him.
“Sir, how can I help you?” she asked, giving the girl beside him a suspicious glance.
Matt waited for his sister to fill the silence and explain her symptoms, but when a few seconds passed and she still didn’t open her mouth, he stepped forward, doing his best to describe her about to burst appendix with less acuity and detail than he actually had access to, but with enough urgency to ensure a speedy triage and treatment.
💠 FIVE LINE FRIDAYS 💠
send me an ask with the first sentence of a fanfic and I’ll write the next five-ish.
the Murdock reader and castle head cannon is my new favourite thing and a fic that I didn’t even know I needed so thank you for that!
“So what’s he like? Does he treat you right?”, Matt asked with a frown on his face as he fiddled with the tie around his neck. You rolled your eyes and continued to adjust the pillows on Matt’s sofa, “Of course he does Matt, you know I wouldn’t stand for an shit”. At this Matt gave out a sarcastic yet friendly chuckle, “Don’t make me bring up John”. “Don’t make me throw this pillow at you”.
Matt was about to retaliate until the sound of boots thudding on the lower levels caught his attention, his head tilted, “I think he’s here”.
Your heart jumped, rushing around you tried to tidy up the already clean apartment, “DON’T JUST STAND THERE MAKE YOURSELF PRESENTABLE”. Your older brother shook his head, slipping on his glasses he found his cane and walked with you to stand near the door.
Taking a relaxing breath, you opened the door, “Hey Frank”, he presented the bouquet of roses, “Hey baby”, he said softly leaning in to kiss your cheek. You moved to the side and let Frank in who immediately stopped in his tracks, “What’s the matter?”, you asked.
“You’ve gotta be shitting me”, Frank lowly growled through gritted teeth, gently clenching his fists at his side. “Frank what’s wrong?”, your face knitted with confusion just as Matt’s smile faded into an immediate frown.
“(Y/N), a word in the kitchen please”.
//felt like writing a spicy bit of drabble about the first awkward meeting <3\
murdock!reader who’s a little too interested in bullseye
(born again spoilers included)
You’re fucked up.
You know it, too. You hope nobody else does. Foggy, he always joked that you’re the stable Murdock, so clearly something you’re doing is working. Or it had been, at least. You’ve always been good at hiding things, the same way Matt is. But you aren’t like Matt.
Your…problems don’t stem from good deeds and sudden blindness, or the death of your father, or all of that Catholic guilt he inherited. You were only ever Catholic for Matt’s sake. For your own, you hope and pray there is no man who can hear your thoughts and decide your fate from them.
Whatever is wrong with you, it has always been there. It was there when you pleaded your father to let you watch his fights, to see the blood on the mat. It was there when you scoffed in Father Lantom’s face and told him God will be sending you to Hell no matter how many good deeds you do. It was there when a Kitchen Irish member pushed a knife to your throat and you smiled at the red dripping from his forehead and the sting of the silver slicing into you, and pushed him back into the wall so hard his skull cracked open. It was there when you sat in the court room during Frank Castles trial, and wondered how much you could get away with.
It was worse when your breath grew heavy for all the wrong reasons at being in the same room as a man taking your brother’s secret identity and actively trying to murder you. You could feel it in him too; different, but pulling you to him all the same. Your pupils dilated together when you stabbed him in the side. His smile widened, sickly, how yours had when you watched that Irishman tumble to the ground.
This thing inside of you, it’s only growing. It’s twisting, and festering, and sits heavy in the pit of your stomach. It’s taken your appetite, and when you look in the mirror, you swear your eyes have grown darker.
You’ve made it this far, though. Even if you stopped going out to Josie’s, because you’re scared the vile part of you will come slipping out with the alcohol, and you dream of the hazel eyes and manic grin that killed your brothers best friend, you’ve made it this far. For Matt’s sake, mostly.
A lot of what you do it for Matt’s sake.
You’d be cruel it is wasn’t for your brother. You’d be a lot worse than you are on the days you let the sadistic mess inside of you tumble out. Matt’s always concerned on those days, when you lash out and your eyes darken and you think of things he would repent for. He’ll ask you what’s wrong, and you don’t answer because lying to Matt is impossible, and if you tell him the sick things making you rot alive he’ll hate you.
Karen was there once, to see the gaping darkness in your core rise up to shadow over your face. You think she might know what you actually are, under everything you do for Matt. She’d been in the church, when you stabbed him. Karen had gasped, scattering out of the way and yelling for you when Bullseye had drawn out your name, and came running towards you.
When you let him push you to the ground with wide eyes, salivating at him on top of you and staring into his matching, blown pupils under the dark mask, and trying not squeeze your thighs around his torso at the hiss that left him when you stuck the knife into his side.
Karen knows something is wrong.
She won’t say anything, though, because Matt can’t see how your expression changes and she can’t prove that there’s evil in your eyes. He could hear your heart pounding, and assumed it was in fear and nothing else. There’s too much going on now, anyways, with the both of them in hiding. It’s let you and the suppurating parasite under your skin slip back under the radar.
You’ve been by yourself a lot, because of that. You sit with nothing but your terrible thoughts circling your mind, day in and out. You can’t tell if it’s getting worse anymore — there’s more of them, of all the bad thoughts, but they aren’t feeling very bad without the conscious you’re supposed to have being reminded to you through Matt.
You lose the time of day easily now, and wander Hell’s Kitchen late into the night and early into the morning. You don’t even know what time it is now, and you don’t really care. You do know, though, that you want a milkshake and that you’re standing in front of a 24/7 diner.
Headcanons for being Matt Murdock’s child (Part 4)
Matt Murdock x child!reader
warnings:
a/n: thank you guys so much for waiting patiently for this!!! (except for that one anon who got an attitude with me for not writing this fast enough for them if you’re reading this, learn some manners) anyways, so glad that i finally finished daredevil, now i just gotta push through the last few defenders shows (and catch up on everything else i’ve missed in the past year. haha. fuck.
prompt:
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5
everything was just so shitty.
you had to hold it together and pretend like your dad was just on a very long work trip
it wasn’t like you didn’t plan for this. i mean, you had a dozen notes in his handwriting ready for any occasion, just in case something unexpected happened
to whom it may concern, i have been hired by a client residing in california for an undisclosed amount of time. i will be leaving my child, y/n murdock, in the care of their godfather, franklin nelson. due to my condition, i have granted mr. nelson legal permission to make decisions on y/n’s behalf if i am ever unable to, including this period in time. if you have any questions, please call. matthew murdock.
you read that page over and over again while foggy shuffled around your dad’s apartment, gathering all of your stuff and anything of your dad’s you’d want to hang onto
“you know, marci is fixing up the guest room to be more…you. i think when you see it you’re gonna love it” -foggy
you were half spaced out trying to wrap your head around everything
and you were still so pissed off
it made foggy feel even more guilty
“i got their father killed. if i didn’t bring him that suit, given him my blessing, he’d still be here to raise his kid” -foggy
“you’re being too hard on yourself, foggy bear. the others made it out, he chose to stay. that’s not on you” -marci
“it doesn’t feel like that. i mean, every time i look at y/n i feel like they blame me” -foggy
“blame you? y/n loves you. you’ve always been there for them and they are well aware of that” -marci
you kind of hated karen for a while
i know it’s harsh, but almost every time you saw her, she wanted to give you hope instead of helping you grieve
“maybe he’s still out there somewhere, sweetie” -karen, attempting an embrace
you just wanted her to ditch your old apartment and let you move on with what you had left
on a more lighthearted note, you’d always been welcome in the nelson family
“y/n! honey, come here! lord, foggy, y/n looks like you’ve been starvin’ them!” -foggy’s mom
“aw, no, uncle foggy’s—” -you
“nonsense, dear. theo! fix your lovely [niece/nephew/nibling] a sandwich!” -momma nelson
“mom—” -foggy
“don’t even start, y/n’s in our kitchen now. the nelson meats kitchen”
you always felt best surrounded by all that love
meanwhile, your father laid in the church you grew up with. and no intention of calling you up
“matthew, your child. where are they?” -sister maggie
“they’re safe, safer than they’ve ever been” -matt
you had your days ever since midland circle’s collapse though
some days you could be okay, just getting by. you knew deep down you’d be losing him soon, and you were well prepared
other days were violent fits of rage and sorrow, punching bags and screaming and crying
and a time or two, you’d do it in front of foggy
“he left me! he left me for her and he didn’t even say goodbye! and i’m supposed to forgive him?! fuck him, he chose to do this to me, he’s a piece of shit and he i’m glad he’s gone!” -you, screaming through sobs in the middle of the night
foggy would grab you so tight and wouldn’t let go until you were calm again
and marci would cry to herself as she listened, not fully able to process all of your emotions
but she tried as best as she could, she just didn’t have the deep bond you and foggy did (but she definitely did everything she could for you)
she’d have lil lunch dates with you, just you two
“foggy tells me you got another 100 on your test? that’s always a good thing, especially in a class as tough as that” -marci
“yeah, foggy’s kind of my cheerleader when it comes to that stuff” -you
“any ideas for the day? i could take you to a salon or a game…maybe an arcade or a movie?” -marci
honestly you couldn’t express to her how much she really helped you get through the day
foggy and theo came up with the idea to hire you at the sandwich shop, that way you had something to keep you busy and foggy felt less pressured to help out there
it did help get your mind off things—until little whispers of a familiar vigilante started popping up
the day foggy found out matt was still alive…he wanted to kill him for you
“you’re back! does karen know? oh, matt, y/n’s gonna be so happy, they—they’ve been so down since it all happened—” -foggy
foggy started to get very frustrated by matt’s explanation
“hold on just a second here, matt. your child—for months on end—has been grieving the loss of their father, wishing they could have him back. i’ve done everything i can to keep that kid afloat, destroyed myself watching them fall apart…and you’re not even gonna consider seeing y/n?” -foggy, beginning to raise his voice and hit the table
“they’re safer without me. just keep them far away from fisk. please.” -matt
foggy didn’t even want to mention it to you. he felt awful keeping secrets from you, but knowing your father was out there and wouldn’t see you? after sacrificing himself for elektra? you’d be a mess
but it didn’t stay secret for long once you and foggy were questioned together by the FBI
you kept cool about it in front of agent nadeem, playing along just right. but once that door closed
“he’s alive?! he’s alive and you just didn’t tell me?! and he met with you, why the hell hasn’t he seen me yet?!” -you, weakly trying to attack foggy as you began to cry, he pulled you in for a hug
“i’m sorry, kid. i’m so sorry. i don’t have a lot of answers right now” -foggy
“where is he? i want to see him” -you
you knew the moment you saw him you’d unleash hell
matt did feel guilty not reuniting with you, you were his only child and you just experienced the same pain he had as a child, but he kept justifying it as “protecting you” much to the sister’s dismay
and plans were hashed not long after, you were left out of them all and put under marci’s care
chinese takeout and a tv show marathon was a great plan until you both picked up your phones, shocked to see an attack going on where your friends and family were supposed to be
you were terrified, but you saw marci terrified, too. you were there for her the same way she always was for you
things blew over, you got out of the house to clear your head
matt went back to the church, still hellbent on ending all this
“matthew…i think you should see y/n. think of all they’ve been through, to see you again would, well, it would be a blessing” -sister maggie
“i have to keep them as far away from this as i can” -matt
“they won’t get too far, being a murdock and all. it’s not just your nature, it’s the name. that name is being thrown around everywhere, maybe you could do the protecting this once” -maggie
“can’t risk it, especially not after this imposter daredevil is on the loose. no morals, no self control, he’s dangerous” -matt
“matthew, what would you do if your father ended up being alive after believing he was gone for so long?” -maggie
that happened to put things into perspective, just the one question
unfortunately he got a bit sidetracked overhearing the prayers of maggie, his mother
but matt couldn’t run or hide from you anymore, couldn’t demand foggy keep you away
so he showed up at foggy’s apartment, knocking on the door gently as he knew you were the only one home
when you looked through the peephole, you saw a battered version of your dad, nothing changes
but you flung that door open so fast and…punched him in the chest a dozen times
“you—piece of shit—motherfucker—how could you?! i hate you! i hate you! selfish asshole!” -you
he let it happen, he thought it’d make you feel better until you wore yourself out
“where the hell were you?” -you, sobbing
“doesn’t matter, i’m here now” -matt
“no, you aren’t. you always have something else come up. always” -you
what an inconvenient time for his phone to ring
you heard the message, you knew he had to be somewhere
that was the first time you felt in the loop in a while, though. hearing the message of where he needed to be. that was all you wanted, was to know what was going on. it was the tiny bit of control you needed
there was nothing glamorous about this life, for sure. the idea of him being out there still made you sick.
fogwell’s gym was the next place you saw him, with agent nadeem and foggy
“really exciting being on fisk’s shitlist, huh?” -you to nadeem, fidgeting with old equipment
“cut it out, y/n” -matt
“what? this isn’t our first time around the block, that’s why we’re hiding here” -you
it’d been a while since you’d been here, you used to hang out cuz “abandoned shit is cool”
you were currently taking your anger and anxiety out on a punching bag, revisiting your old karate lessons from way back when
*while talking testimony with nadeem and foggy* “that is…so distracting. hang on, let me just—” -matt, stopping when his arm was grabbed
“no, they need this. leave it alone” -foggy
matt sighed an nodded, feeling like he was in no place to parent at the moment
karen decided to stand with you and watch
“so…you were right” -you
“you don’t seem too happy about that” -karen
“believe me, wish i could be. but do you recognize him? like, really?” -you
“i…i know. he’s changed. but maybe once this all blows over…i think he’ll go back to himself. be a friend—a dad again” -karen
“sure as hell not to me” -you, scoffing “he’s done picking and choosing when he can be my father. i was always supposed to come first”
karen understood. she knew exactly what you meant and she felt it so deeply, but she wanted for you what she couldn’t have anymore
you hadn’t stopped hitting the punching bag as you talked to her
“can i give it a whirl?” -karen
she got a few good hits in, they were noticed by present company
from there, you stuck with foggy. the least likely of the bunch to get shot!
and court did not go spectacularly either, making you feel just as on edge as before
“y/n, listen, i’m not gonna let anyone hurt you. have they ever gotten to you before? no, and it’s gonna stay that way” -matt, cupping your face in his hands to hold as if it were the last, which it was starting to feel that way for the both of you
“you’re not good at promises. you’re gonna leave again” -you, tears beginning to stream down your face
“no, no. well, yeah, for a little bit. it’s fine, y/n, we’re gonna be fine. i love you, okay?” -matt
foggy took you home and you just shut down again. and although there was a LOT of work to do, marci and foggy always made time for you
“y/n, foggy’s making dinner. you wanna help me make dessert? i’m thinking…cupcakes?” -marci
“do we have the good frosting?” -you
“of course, kiddo, i’d never let us run out” -marci, winking
she got a smile out of you and you rushed to the kitchen with her, which lifted both of their spirits of course
but nothing could be calm forever, bodies dropped every minute and you could only wonder “was that my dad?”
and lord help him, he asked for it every day
especially when, after a few more issues arose, he marched straight into the presidential hotel with faux-daredevil
“you…you keep my secret…keep away from my friends…my kid!” -matt
“heh…your kid. ever think they’re gonna follow in your footsteps? you’ll be long gone, i’ll still be here. with them. maybe they’ll be out for revenge, who knows?” -fisk
“you say anything else, vanessa goes down with you. it’s over, fisk. now swear to me, my kid is safe!” -matt
“i swear…just leave vanessa out of it, i’ll leave y/n out of it” -fisk, surrendering
you were watching the news as it happened, stunned, shocked, in awe. it was better than the last time
“foggy let me drink last time they put fisk away” -you
“jesus, weren’t you like, thirteen?” -marci “i mean, now’s fine, that’s about the age i started partying. what the hell? i’ll get the good stuff out. just a little bit though, dont get your hopes up”
(it was like four “little bits” but you weren’t complaining)
you knew it was coming and you acted surprised anyways
“y/n. i am the shittiest dad in the world” -matt
“well aware” -you, arms crossed after he started the conversation that way
“just another chance. i wanna be your dad, i wanna be there for you, you’re like, the best kid anyone could ask for. foggy’s gotta feel pretty lucky having you around” -matt
“last time i gave you another chance to be in my life, you gave it up for elektra. a second time—third if. you count law school” -you
“she’s gone, out of the picture. died under midland circle” -matt, sort of comically waving her off in front of you like he was over it
“yeah? you survived it. and she came back from the dead. how do i know she isn’t gonna pop up out of nowhere again and ruin our relationship again” -you
“i can’t stress enough how little everything matters compared to you right now. i’ll do anything, y/n. i can’t lose you again” -matt
god, you were angry with every word that came out of this mouth. same old spiel. but then again
“i don’t wanna lose you again” -you
matt grinned at you
“i bet you’re smiling back at me” -matt
“you’re on really thin ice, like paper thin. you better cut it out” -you
“that’s fair, i’ll stop…for now” -matt
you did have to go to father lanthom’s funeral, which was a drag. you may not have asked him for as much forgiveness as your dad, but he was still a pretty big part of your life
“hey, y/n. i know i forgot to mention this…but sister maggie? you know her, she’s around. i just found out she’s your grandmother” -matt
“good one” -you, pretending to laugh. matt didn’t laugh though. “you’re not joking? man, you’re telling me that nun is your mom…and you found out when?”
you all went to nelson’s meats afterwards
“so, you make a mean sandwich, i heard” -matt
“im off the clock” -you “and i don’t serve the blind”
“wow, dark! you know that’s discrimination, right? we could take you to court over that. nelson, murdock and page’s first case?” -foggy
“ok, noted. no more blind jokes…is it sound if i don’t serve vigilantes?” -you
“yeah, it’d hold up better in court. having the right to refuse service to anyone” -matt
“hold on, i still can’t get over the fact y/n just said they hate blind people” -karen, nearly snorting
“did not! i’ve only historically hated two blind people…” -you, being stared at for an answer “stick? right, you know?”
“who?” -karen
“alright, can we get back to mourning with nelson’s meats? i mean, we work hard to bury those sorrows in your stomachs” -foggy
“hey! that can be the new slogan!” -you “and your new law firm’s can be ‘we sue teenagers’”
these happened to be your people. no matter what you all went through, you always ended up back here.
BONUS
“can i meet him? spiderman? pleaaaase?” -you
“how many times have we been over this. i didn’t let you meet jessica and i’m not gonna let you meet peter, do you want me to get disbarred?” -matt
BONUS (PT2)
“you’re coming back to new york, right?” -you, over the phone
“of course i am, i told you i just owed a favor to someone out here, i’ll be home soon” -matt
“foggy says that he will take me back if you bail again, and he doesn’t care if i’m legally an adult either” -you
“well, too bad, he can’t have you” -matt
“please don’t tell me you and the she-hulk lady are quote-unquote, ‘friends’” -you
