daredevilkink | Daredevil Prompt Post #8

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Daredevil Prompt Post #8

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Heh, to which Opposite would have replied that first off, if he had been trying to take care of the situation, he could have killed them both much faster than iPad with his ridiculous hangups, and second off, if he had been owned by them, they would have adored him. And he speaks Russian, so there's that.

Hahaha, and he tries to convince them that he's just been having a lucid dream (from boredom?) and the overseers decide it was someone slipping him mild hallucinogens (the slaves/employees of auction houses are untrustworthy dicks)

"They're not RIDICULOUS HANGUPS, they're MORAL OBJECTI-why am I even *argueing* with you about this?! You're about as insane as Frank!" (Ipad had a run-in with him, once, from which he returned a little more bloody than usual. Foggy Officially Ordered him to stay home for *three days* after this, and therefore the Punisher does rank very low on the scale of Ipad's favourite people)

"Frank? Which Frank?" Imperious sounds suspicious now, and Ipad pinches the skin over his nose. He is terrified, to his very core, has no idea what will happen when the people working here come back and get him for the auction, oh god, the AUCTION, he can't believe he made such a fuss about Foggy selling him to Stark, this is worse than any nightmare than he ever had, but at least this conversation distracts him a little - he has no idea either whether there's some weird portal somewhere that lets him feel and hear a bit of Imperious and *his* surroundings and he wonders whether anyone else could see it too, or whether they now think he's crazy after all. He tries to keep his whispering low and quiet, at least certain that the other him will be able to pick it up.

"Frank Castle. The 'Punisher'. An insane person who also somehow doesn't see anything wrong with killing anyone he deems guilty of *something*," Matt grates. He did pop in briefly when the wizard guy came, but -

"Wait. The large man? Smells of gun oil and explosives and like he hasn't showered in a *week*?" Imperious sounds breathless, for once interested in something other than Matt fucking up his career as a rich people toy.

"Yeah," Matt replies tiredly. "Why?"

"Oh fuck. I think I just figured out who my new owner is."

And somehow, Matt can't help but laugh.

"This isn't FUNNY!" Imperious hisses. "He's gone now, but he expects me to - he wants me to be a PET for him! Like that damaged version at the other Matt's place! He likes him *more*!"

Matt keeps on laughing, somewhere in between relieved and hysterical. "Fuck, and I thought you were with *my* Foggy. That would've been my worst nightmare."

"*Thank you*," the voice of Imperious sounds like a few degress north of the Arctic circle, and Matt can't help but give a grin that probably looks deranged from the outside. He hopes it scares buyers off.

"I think, Frank likes pets that give paw, play fetch with guns, and can play dead on command," he says, laughing even though this isn't the slightest bit funny, and he has the distinct feeling that if Imperious could, this would be the point where he'd slam the receiver on the phone.

I am CRYING poor baby opposite now he's actually going to try to be like pets he's known to Frank who is going to get steadily more and more unnerved

like you KNOW opposite now grits his teeth and goes to get a gun, barrel in his mouth, to play fetch because he has to please his owners! This is basic stuff!

Matt grits his teeth. "I killed an owner once, for trying to make me into a pet," he hisses at the lawyer version because he's uncoming undone at the seams. "But I suppose I'd make even a better pet than you," he adds, and then moves around on the floor to where he'd been unceremoniously dumped, finds a gun, and picks it up with his mouth by the barrel, to hand the handle to this Frank when he gets back.

(Ahaha, loving this. XD hope i got your opposite's reactions in the last bit I wrote correct, btw...? Always feel free to correct if you feel he d definitely react differently, he is a *very* different character from the ones I ve written before^^;)

×××

"I killed an owner once, for trying to make me into a pet," the other Matt hisses, and through the weird portal, Matt can't quite pick out whether that s a lie or not. He wouldn't be surprised if it isn't, though. Opposite seems to have scarily little problems with killing people.

How did a version of me ever end up like *this*, Matt wonders, but then, as soon as he isn’t actively talking anymore, the smells, and sounds, and atmosphere of mindless fear and cringing submission of the auction house assaults his senses again, and something in his stomach curdles and he thinks he can guess.

Besides, that guy has been sold when he was, like, twelve, if Stick did that to him, Matt remembers. (He had been angry, furious at his own version of the man, but in comparison, only because Stick hadn’t adopted him and prevented him from being sold into slavery at eighteen. He hadn’t been the one to make it worse.) No wonder he’s more twisted, you at least weren’t a child anymore when they chipped you.

He sobers a little at the thought, the half-hysterical laughter subsiding.

“Yeah, uh. Please don’t kill Castle,” Matt mutters. He isn’t quite as far gone as the other version of himself, and he doubts Foggy would appreciate him or his doppelgangers killing anyone.

Foggy. The thought of him hurts, hurts even worse now that he’s stuck here in this hellhole of an auction house, he’ll have to go back to being an actual, 100% slave again, he might be whipped again and – Matt tries to stop himself from panicking, from hyperventilating, because he was owned by people other than Foggy long enough to realize that that never helped. Fortunately, Imperious helps him to distract himself by adding,

"But I suppose I'd make even a better pet than you."

And yeah, it’s easier to focus on a retort for that. “I’ll have you know that when I was a pet for Foggy I was perfect,” Matt grates, because, twisted as it is, he takes some pride in getting things for Foggy right, even if he never knows where the line between the normal feelings of pride at the praise of an equal partner, and the desperate wish for the approval of an owner is. It’s not something he likes to think about, especially with the Avengers currently trying to insinuate he’s a Stockholm Syndrome victim.

They should see *this* guy, the cynical part of his brain points out and Matt shakes his head, trying to focus on what Imperious is now doing instead. And then he almost freezes when he realizes that he apparently has been taken at his word, because the other one is currently crawling around on the floor and picking something up (with his mouth, what the fuck) that sounds and smells suspiciously like a gun.

The first thought of Matt is GUN SAFETY! And the fact that Castle is likely going to have a heart attack when he sees the other version doing this.

Then again, Castle totally deserves a heart attack, and Matt’s fairly sure by now that this other version must have a mind dazzling like a shattered mirror - all brilliant and shining in its fragments, but also, ultimately, broken - yet definitely sharp enough to know how to handle a gun. He very likely has the safety kept on.

So no, Matt might not point out that he meant it as a poor joke. Maybe that is not the finest thing he’s ever done to himself, but Imperious has done nothing but insult him, and maybe Matt feels the tiniest bit miffed.

(And scared. Oh so very scared. But he can’t focus on that)

“That…auction,” he swallows. “How…how is that going to go down?” and then he grits his teeth and asks the question he supposes all slaves in all worlds ever never cease to ask, and the one he had hoped to never have to utter again.

“And what do I have to do to not get whipped?”

(He hopes the other will answer. He hopes that isn’t Frank Castle returning that he senses from the other side of the portal. Most of all he hopes he will ever see Foggy again, or else that he will get a swift death if he doesn’t.)

xxxx

...goddammit, this was supposed to be *short* @.@

(I think you've got a pretty good handle? I mean, Opposite is this hilarious mixture of asshole and utterly twisted out of shape person who believes completely contradictory things.)

Matt tries not to make a sound, splaying his legs backwards and lying down on his forearms, gun's handle dangling, trying to look appealing. Fuck me fuck me fuck me, he chants inside his head, please, I'm better than any pet, I'm better than anyone else, you'll like me more if you just try me out, he thinks as hard as he can, hoping to project it, trying to make his face sultry around the gun barrel.

It's a large gun, a .45, well-maintained, cleaned and oiled recently, and it's making his heart pound with adrenaline, a welcome distraction from the terror of being a pet. He doesn't want to be a pet, it's one of the very few things he's ever asked for, and he doesn't think he can take this master, not at all--he's better fed by a small margin, and larger with both a height and weight advantage, and very, very strong, and has guns and knives and isn't relaxed and stupid around Matt.

But he might be if he fucks Matt, or else realize how much better Matt was than a damaged, disobedient pet, so Matt arches his back more, sticking out his ass, hoping to seduce--

"What the FUCK are you DOING?"

It's a loud bellow, and Matt shifts to kneeling before he can consciously decide it, thank goodness for his trained reflexes. He tries to glance up through his eyelashes--it's hard--but the man immediately wrenches the gun out, almost chipping a tooth in haste, and Matt makes a tiny sound of relief. He's had a gun barrel in his mouth twice before and he really doesn't want one in it again.

"What the fuck was that?" the man says, and since it's apparently his new owner, Matt tries to make his face as pleading as possible.

"Oh my god, use your words, you spoke before," the man--no, his master, get with the situation Matt for fuck's sake--demands, and Matt's overwhelmed with relief. Maybe this master doesn't want a pet? Just an assassin who wouldn't tell anyone?

Well, Matt can be that. He can be most things.

"I only wish to please you, master," he murmurs (not sir, that got a bad reaction earlier), hanging is head. "I'm sorry for displeasing you, please punish me how you see fit," and bends his head to kiss the boots he can sense right in front of him.

After he does that, there's a second of pure silence, his master's heartbeat throbbing angrier and angrier, and then his new master says, almost growling, "Right. I'm going out to find someone to kill for this, and I'll be back with food, but stay here and don't fucking touch any of the other guns, got it?"

"Yes, master," he murmurs. It's an easy order.

"Fuck," his master--Frank, Master Frank--mutters and stomps out, locking the door behind him.

Then once his new master's gone, Matt focuses on the irritating lawyer version's questions.

"Were you never sold in an auction house? No, don't answer, that's obvious, I suppose you were never worth that much.

"Well, they're all the same," he says, and his voice changes a little, accent wandering south to Maryland and staying there. "The cells are warm, and there should be a blanket and a pillow. Try to do yoga and crunches and push-ups, if you can, you need to be in shape.

"When the overseers come, be kneeling at the door--they know about my abilities, they expect me to anticipate them, do not ruin my perfect record," he warns. "And when they come, eat the food quickly but elegantly. Delicate bites, chewing with the mouth shut, visible facial enjoyment. Drink the water and take the pills--"

Lawyer, insolent Matt makes a horrified noise at that, and Matt rolls his eyes and explains, "They're vitamin supplements, not drugs. We're supposed to be pretty and healthy and cheerful-looking, for goodness' sake. It's Amex Agency, so it's very expensive. They've gotten all the footage and statistics they needed from me, so I imagine the auction is very soon.

"When they come, do the auction walk, not the auction crawl. It's the elegant one, the one that projects coy confidence? You must know it. And when you get to the end of the catwalk, do the auction kneel--slow, seductive, with a gentle Mona Lisa smile at the corners of your face. Make sure you're facing the ground all the way. Perhaps blow soft kisses at the crowd? It's a pleaser for sure."

He ignores the upset noises coming from the other Matt, and adds, "And as for being whipped--don't try to escape, don't do anything to disobey the overseers, and don't scream or try to hurt yourself and you won't be punished. And even if you were, I doubt they'd go straight to whip. This auction house is of a much higher caliber than the open markets you're undoubtedly used to. My opening bid is five million dollars, they're not going to risk losing revenue by being sadists."

"Any other questions?"

(here's some scaffolding, I guess? idk even)

Matt breathed out slowly and realized he felt more relaxed than he had in a while. Having a master give him clear orders to follow had that effect. Now he could focus on his counterpart, coach him better so he didn't fuck this up for Matt. The lawyer version was making small involuntary-sounding noises of fear, still.

Matt frowned; maybe the lawyer version was upset because of fear of the unknown? Or maybe—

Matt realized it sharply and reached down to break a toe for not thinking of it before. Of course. The lawyer version had been stolen from his rightful owner, that was why he was upset. Matt wouldn't've liked to be stolen, either, so he modulated his voice, made it softer and comforting.

“It's alright,” he said gently. “I don't think this is permanent. Us in the free Matt's apartment wasn't. You won't be stolen for long, and if your owner is as intelligent as you claim, he'll understand that you didn't mean to be stolen, and probably won't punish you too harshly.” Though perhaps 'Foggy' was one of those owners who had nothing but whipping as a punishment? That was stupid.

“Hey,” he said to the lawyer version. “Let me help you calm down. Let me tell you this funny story,” he coaxed. “Once, one of my owners had this son, who was very stupid and very angry that he was failing his exercise science major in college when I had gotten a 4.0 on my Bachelor's. So the son, at a party my owner was throwing, decided to use me in front of everyone, as if that was a real punishment.

“So he had me strip off and bend over the kitchen table, but he was so drunk on cheap beer—Natty Lite, can you believe it—that he couldn't get it up properly. Of course, he decided to blame me, and instead of having me clench harder or milk his cock like a normal person, he grabbed the cattle prod my owner kept for her pet, and jabbed me in the side—when he was still inside me.”

Matt listens to Castle freak out at the other Matt, and though he *tries* not to be too amused, there is something a little bit funny about it if you're as desperate to forget your circumstances as he is. Castle is as upset as the free Matt at the other's behaviour and leaves soon thereafter and Matt presses his lips together. Why did *he* have to end up in the stupid auction house?! He'd even have taken the *Punisher* as an owner instead of this. (He wouldn't have. He wouldn't ever kill, he tells himself, sound not at all so reassured.)

Now he's also not sure whether Imperious will be angry with him for realizing he'd been set up, or whether he just thinks Matt gave him wrong advice because Matt is stupid (which, honestly, seems to be Imperious' default opinion of *anyone*). But either it's that or the other *really* doesn't want Matt to do anything that he will (hopefully) reap the consequences for, because he proceeds to answer Matt's questions with helpful advice.

Well.

It would be helpful if Matt had any idea what the 'auction crawl' or the 'auction kneel' would be. The only thing he is familiar with is the 'auction lawsuit', which is usually what happens when someone auctioned off something they really shouldn't have been auctioning, *again*, Turk, WHY, and Matt and Foggy need to get them out of it.

"Any other questions?" Imperious asks, and Matt's throat kind of makes a noise like a strangled cat as a response, mostly because he is trying not to throw up (he should do *that* on stage, let's see how they like the Auction Vomit, a voice in his head suggests).

And *then* there is the definite noise of someone twisting the bones in a *toe* on the other side of the portal, and *that* startles Matt back into the present damn quickly.

“It's alright,” the other Matt says, his voice now for some reason sounding gentle. “I don't think this is permanent. Us in the free Matt's apartment wasn't."

Matt tries to breathe through that. Yes. Please. Please let that be true. He wants to say something in return, but then Imperious already continues,

"You won't be stolen for long, and if your owner is as intelligent as you claim, he'll understand that you didn't mean to be stolen, and probably won't punish you too harshly.”

And Matt almost wants to laugh, because OF COURSE Imperious would think THAT is his problem. He almost wishes the pills he's apparently about to get *would* be drugs instead of vitamins.

“Hey,” says the other one at this point. “Let me help you calm down. Let me tell you this funny story.”

Matt thinks he might have made a noise that could be interpreted as consent, because the other one does proceed to tell a story. Matt isn't sure what it says about him that he goes from horrified to a startled giggle at the punchline without meaning to.

"Oh god," he groans, not quite able to suppress a lop-sided grin, despite how wrong this entire situation is. "Don't tell me. Broken dick?"

"Had to be hauled out of me and taken to the E.R.," Imperious says, also sounding greatly amused, like there isn't anything wrong with this story at all, and Matt for a covers his face with his hands, because, *actually*, now he also remembers something -

"You know," he starts, "I actually had something similar happen. Remember how I told you I...'pretend to be a superhero' at night?" he asks dryly, because he doesn't appreciate the wording Imperious used earlier, but continues anyway.

"One night, I was fighting maybe five dealers of some sort of novel street drug on top of a warehouse roof, in the rain. It all went terribly well, until the roof collapsed under us and we all fell down. Unfortunately, before I could get up again, three of them had already grabbed me and immobilized my arms and legs. One was out cold, but the other...well." Matt grimaces."He grabbed this lead pipe."

This isn't his favourite part of the story, *or* the memory, but he likes how it continues. "Well, apparently I wasn't screaming loudly enough from being hit with that thing, so what he did was take out that home-made-tazer thing. Which he used on me. While we were *all* soaking wet and I was being held in direct skin contact by three of his colleagues."

He can feel the grin creep onto his face again at the memory, mostly because after the immediate pain had subsided, there really hadn't been that much to do for him after all any more.

"That, uh, was before I got my latest costume, by the way. Foggy..." he winces. "Foggy didn't think that story was very funny when I told it to him, though. I *think* I managed to talk him out of placing me under house arrest for the weekend, but I was actually officially ordered to look into getting the suit insulated against 'especially shit like *that*, Matt, GOD,' I think was the exact wording." He wonders whether the other Matt will find that story funny - Natasha, Thor and Clint had, when he told it to them, Tony, Bruce and Steve less so - but he (of course) never quite told anyone of the aftermath with Foggy.

"But, uh, yeah, that's also why I'm...I'm not worried about Foggy, uh, *punishing* me for being in another dimension or something. He wouldn't. The worst I ever got was yelled at, and, well, that's...usually enough." Matt grimaces. "I told you, he avoids treating me like a slave as much as possible - which is also, by the way, why I have no idea how to do any of the things you suggested. I haven't knelt more than twice in the last month, never mind at an auction. If what the free Matt's Foggy asked for doesn't work, and it *isn't* Foggy who buys me at this thing, I'm utterly screwed."

xxx

(heeh, I was amused to see the party story make a repeat appearance! XD I found it a bit darkly amusing that this kind of humour - 'I was hurt terribly, but the other guy was hurt *worse* - actually likely *would* be amusing on some level to most Matts, slave or not.^^° Thought I'd give Ipad a tale to match. :p Btw, feel free to make the fills as short as you like, it does make it easier to address all of the hundreds of talking points that occur to me when you write something XD)

(thanks! I love this whole thing, gosh)

Matt laughs quietly at the lawyer-version's story, because owners not knowing how electricity worked was always hilarious. You'd think that they would at least Google it after buying shock collars, but it was not the case.

He sobers at the fact that apparently the lawyer-version doesn't know how to kneel or walk the way he has to, to not fuck this up for him. He tries to remember back when he'd been taught this, the precise phrasings. He was, he thinks, twelve, only about a month after being bought by Winter, when he was taught all the different kneels. There were so very many.

"Alright," he says, determination seeping through. "The walk and the kneel aren't very difficult, you should practice now in the cell, they don't actually care if we move around inside them. The walk is very elegant, but it's meant to project a kind of--well, it's not a murder walk, but it's similar--it's meant to project health, and agility, and balance, and elegance, and obedience, and value at the same time. In a free person it would be a swagger, but you can't actually swagger, it would give them the wrong ideas.

"So the walk is pretty simple, but you have to get it exactly right," and now he sounds anxious. "So straighten your spine, keep your chin parallel to the ground--perpendicular to your neck--except sometimes to lower it and glance coyly through your eyelashes, place your hands behind your head, arms flexed just enough to show, and walk smoothly, like you're on high heels--it makes your ass look better, I know from experience and reactions--and place one foot in front of the other, like you're walking on a tightrope, so your hips swing more than usual.

"The kneel is one of the more slow, seductive kneels. It's the one you do when you want an owner to glance over and have sex with you? For power, or their sake, of course," he says, because even though lawyer-Matt is so untrained (and no wonder he's panicking, he hasn't got the tools or the self-confidence to do this) he's still Matt and therefore understands the true, performative nature of sex.

"It's smooth and delicate and full of hidden power. You place one foot on the cushion--it's either satin or velvet, at this auction house, I'm not sure which--and then you sink down first on one knee, then the other, and lower your face with a gentle little happy smile to the cushion and bury it down, and arch your back, too, they love to see that. Then you hold that while the auction takes place.

"All rich people want a tiger on a leash, and that's what all the motions are meant to project. So the walk isn't too long--you walk from the cell out of the dormitories, into the waiting hallway, and then from there out onto the pier--the catwalk--where the buyers are waiting in the crowd. There's lights, they're very warm, but don't worry, they'll powder you up beforehand so the sweat doesn't show.

"And if you want to, you can blow kisses at the crowd as you walk to them, they love that sort of thing, the myth of adoring, cherishing Persephone. Rich people are, as a whole, very out of touch with reality. Their grip on it is like a loose tooth, all you have to do is push it back and forth just a bit more each time, and even someone like you can make it fall from their mouth."

He thinks over the lawyer's words, and wonders if his universe has a Foggy, if only because an owner who only yells sounds completely fucking terrifying. Sooner or later, every owner resorted to physical violence, because on some deep level they thought it was morally acceptable--which it was, Matt could not afford to think otherwise--and so not finding out what violence they actually reached for made them impossible to predict.

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Daredevil Prompt Post #8

Re: Slave!Matts get swapped into each other's universes

Re: Slave!Matts get swapped into each other's universes

Re: Slave!Matts get swapped into each other's universes

Re: Slave!Matts get swapped into each other's universes

Re: Slave!Matts get swapped into each other's universes

Re: Slave!Matts get swapped into each other's universes

Re: Slave!Matts get swapped into each other's universes

Re: Slave!Matts get swapped into each other's universes

Re: Slave!Matts get swapped into each other's universes