daredevilkink | Daredevil Prompt Post #10

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Daredevil Prompt Post #10

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The décor changed daily. It would be fascinating if it wasn’t so damned creepy. Hales watches as Fisk takes his time, moving photos on the wall, considering which one speaks to him more. He can spend hours fixing it to some invisible plan in his head until he is happy with the layout – until the next and newest image takes precedence and he is no longer pleased.

It’s unsettling. And being stuck on guard duty with New York’s imprisoned Kingpin does not need any extra fuckery. A few weeks ago Fisk had been nothing, a nobody, despite all the rumours about his exploits. And then overnight Fisk had become top dog, his ascent marked by a not so small pile of corpses.

The guard passes him an envelope and Hales feels dirty for handling it, of being part of this burgeoning obsession.

He’d heard the stories. How the pretty boy blind lawyer had been picked up, shaken and beaten against the table by Fisk in full view of the guard and Fisk’s own lawyer. That kind of leeway was not normal by any standards and it solidified Wilson Fisk’s status for once and for all. By all accounts the blind guy had stumbled out of the cell, refusing any assistance, probably hoping he’d seen the last of the sonofabitch.

Well, vain hope.

Fisk’s cell was plastered in pictures of Matt Murdock. There wasn’t an inch of white space left. There were pictures of Murdock in a business suit, lean and tall and handsome, pictures of him looking rumpled and dressed in sweats and jogging pants. A few more of him in his underwear, his body displayed and oddly vulnerable for all its obvious strength. Maybe it was the lack of focus in his eyes. Those ones weren’t so clear but it looked like pretty boy Murdock had been in some battles in his time. In all of them he was bruised or his lip was cut but in all of them he looked exhausted. More recently he was caught looking suspiciously at the lens, maybe aware of the darkness crowding in around him even if he couldn’t see it.

Wilson Fisk stood before Hales now. His gaze fixed on the envelope in his hands. He almost jumped and shakily he handed the package to Fisk. He didn’t want to watch but he couldn’t tear his eyes away as the large man carefully took it to his desk, his entire concentration fixed as he unsealed the package and reverently took out the latest addition to his collection. He almost lovingly placed the images on his table face up for him to study. He stood there for some minutes, not moving an inch until he took a step back.

And then it started again. Fisk considered the wallpapered images and with the care of someone dealing in high art he moving ones that were no longer in favour.

Pictures were overlapping each other. The few images of the tall brunette woman that had been on the wall had long ago been discarded or covered up. Only Matt Murdock remained.

Hales shuddered. The poor bastard.

There was one picture that did not fit. It was of a well-dressed and overweight man with longish hair. Fisk picked it up, scrawling something on it before he placed it into an envelope.

He passed it to Hales.

“Make sure this gets to Matt Murdock.”

holy moly this is so creepy i love it. especially that it's from an outsider perspective. poor matt though, i can imagine he'll come right to fisk after getting that picture, and it's not going to be a fun meeting. not for him at least...

Thank you. All of the mini-fill was in the awesome prompt (thank you, whoever you are).

You prortayed how Fisk is like to other people teh perfect way.
The creepyness of his demeanor. How he acts. Everything. Yo u put it ehre in your fic.

That final line with Fisk sending Foggy's picture to Matt. WOAO.

Oh my gosh this is amazing. Pure creepiness! Imagine Matt having to bite the bullet and ask someone what the picture is of when he gets it in a mystery envelope in the mail and having to try and downplay the dawning horror when it gets described to him so nobody is suspicious...

Or imagine it's Foggy because they're tentatively making up and Foggy goes "why are you being sent creepy street photos of me, Matt?"

Imagine him having to explain his boneheaded move in visiting Fisk in prison and making threats ahhhh

In my notes I figured they'd pay for a courier to stand by while Matt opens the package. Or maybe send one of Fisk's henchmen to deliver it...

Glad you liked it.

Ooh this idea is much better, it would probably feel even more threatening that way because it's proof positive that Fisk can send more than items from his prison cell, he can still send people to do his bidding too

[Please ignore the other update if see it and read this one instead. Also, thank you for the feedback - I am glad there are a couple of people reading and enjoying]

**

It was only later in the limo that Matt felt overwhelmed.

Donovan was droning on explaining the minutiae of his new life and he couldn’t focus on the words. He tried but they kept fading out. What he could hear was Guilfoyle. He curled up in his seat, wrapping his hands around his ears as he desperately tried to block out the screams that he could hear. Part of it was memory and some it was the ongoing agony of the Father that he could now unerringly pick out in the multitude of voices in the city.

The screams were overlapping, both past and present until his world consisted only of the agonised sobs of the man who had hurt him as a child and was now being tortured himself.

Donovan waited several minutes for the panic attack to pass. When the young man seemed to come back to himself, Donovan passed him a bottle of water and watched as he chugged it down. He mumbled something about the ‘screams stopping’ but it was not a matter he wanted to dwell on. Instead he went straight to business.

“Are you feeling better, Mr. Murdock?”

Matt nodded, still looking a bit too pale. Nonetheless, Donovan passed him the thick document in his case.

“This is your contract with Mr. Fisk. In braille of course, as per his instructions. He is a very considerate man taking your needs into account. I suggest you read it tonight and sign it tomorrow.”

Matt shook his head and Donovan mentally prepared himself to encourage him to accept his fate. Except the young man surprised him. “Give me a pen. I’ll sign it now.”

“I think you should take your time to make yourself familiar with the terms-”

“-I have a lifetime to do that. I’ll read over it later. It doesn’t really matter when I sign, does it?”

Donovan watched as Matt shakily found the place for his signature and signed. He felt a twinge of sympathy for the young man which he quickly tamped down.

“From this point going forward there are consequences to all your actions, Mr. Murdock. I strongly urge you to remember that. The welfare of your friends depends on it. As to any immediate concerns I can assure you Mr. Fisk has thought ahead. You will have a live in helper in your new uptown apartment – please think of him as your assistant. He will see to all your needs.”

And also act as a conveniently placed spy, Matt knew.

“Your possessions have been crated and will arrive tomorrow morning. You will of course meet with a new tailor as Mr. Fisk has asked that your clothing be … updated.

“From next week you will be starting a new position at Ludlow & Atlas, I’m sure you’ve heard of them. Do not worry – they have been thoroughly audited and are totally above board and your role will be completely reputable. Mr. Fisk feels you have an aptitude for the law and that it would be a shame to deny you a career. However, Mr. Fisk will personally oversee and approve all cases that you take.”

Matt nodded, barely able to swallow. He had nothing left.

“You are scheduled to meet with a doctor tomorrow. You will fitted with a sub-dermal tracker that must never be removed or deactivated. If for any reason you go off radar you will not be asked for a reason. There will be no acceptable cause. None. What will follow could be judged as severe repercussions but you have the power to prevent it getting that far. Do you understand what I am saying?”

“Yes.” Matt realised how faint his voice was but he could not muster any energy.

“Good, in which case I will proceed. In addition you will be shadowed at all times, by a discreet set of bodyguards. As will your friends, for their safety of course, until you can prove your loyalty to Mr. Fisk. Again, and this is key, you must not slip their surveillance for any reason. Not for a second, Mr. Murdock. There will be no acceptable cause.

“You will be given a personal trainer – no more dropping into Fogwell’s at night and alone, though Mr. Fisk did want me to make a point to commend your loyalty. Your apartment has a training room and a pool which I think you will find more than adequate. You will also have a personal physician, tailor and cook.”

Donovan leaned back and smiled as the driver pulled up. “Oh, we’re here. I’ll escort you upstairs and introduce you to the staff.” He looked at Matt’s stricken face.

“All in all, this is not a burden. If you allow yourself to adapt, you will benefit greatly.

“Welcome to your new life, Mr. Murdock.”

Re: [MINI FILL] - Fisk/Matt, start of obsession PART 9

(Anonymous) - 2016-05-14 19:29 (UTC) - Expand

Re: [MINI FILL] - Fisk/Matt, start of obsession PART 9

(Anonymous) - 2016-05-14 20:21 (UTC) - Expand

Re: [MINI FILL] - Fisk/Matt, start of obsession PART 9

(Anonymous) - 2016-05-18 16:53 (UTC) - Expand

Re: [MINI FILL] - Fisk/Matt, start of obsession PART 9

(Anonymous) - 2016-05-18 17:41 (UTC) - Expand

Oh my God, this is so, so, so good. Fisk is terrifying.

OP -

Ooooooohmygod !! o_o

!!!
!!!!!

*flailing* This was so perfect! And creepy!!! Ahhhhhhhh!!!!! Thank you!

Ah, thank you. I am seriously considering continuing this.

Re: [MINI FILL] - Fisk/Matt, start of obsession

(Anonymous) - 2016-03-21 20:00 (UTC) - Expand

From the moment the madman woke up Murdock by violently thumping on his apartment door Matt was expecting a beating.

A month after that awful meeting and it looked like Fisk might be delivering on his promise early. He didn’t know his name but the man was definitely one of Fisk’s bodyguards and Daredevil might even have hit him hard a time or two. Well, one thing was certain: Matt Murdock was going to start the day with a beat down.

Instead, the man spoke respectfully. “Mr. Murdock, I hope didn’t wake you. My employer wanted me to deliver something to you. Personally.” He gently passed an envelope in to Matt’s hand. He took and opened it cautiously, not letting his fingers betray his nervousness. Whatever this was it couldn’t be good.

The expected braille failed to materialise. Instead, it was a glossy document, slick beneath his fingers. A photograph. “Fisk seems to have forgotten I am blind. If you would be so kind to tell me what I am supposed to be looking at?”

Whatever the answer was it would be nothing good, Matthew knew that much already. What the deliverer said confirmed it. Sheer terror laced through his heart and for the briefest of seconds he staggered.

Foggy.

There was something on the photograph. His fingers quickly scanned over until he found indents. Just six words scrawled in pen; ‘Looking forward to our time together’.

“He’s expecting you tonight at 7pm. We’ll have a car waiting so you can… make your appointment with Mr Fisk.” Matt nodded. Foggy. What choice did he have?

“Oh, and,” he snapped his fingers and another man hurried to his side and handed over a garment bag to Matt. “Mr. Fisk would appreciate it if you dressed appropriately for the occasion.” He smirked. “And I would strongly suggest you shave.”

Matt slammed the door. It was only when he was sure they had left the building that he let himself slump against the door to the floor.

Fisk terrified him. The sheer size and power of the man had always rattled him and the casualness in which he would put his hands on him – both as Daredevil and just Matt Murdock - was truly unsettling.

**

Matt braced himself during the drive to meet Fisk, willing his legs to stop the tremor threatening to get more and more visible. Deep breaths, Murdock, deep breaths. He could do this for Foggy. Matt had no doubt in his mind that Fisk had planned something monstrous for him. He wasn’t even sure he would be allowed to leave the prison in one piece - or alive.

Matt wished he could hate the tuxedo Fisk had supplied but everything, the soft contouring material and the exquisite tailoring were perfect even if he felt imprisoned. It fabric was beautiful, soft, the sensation so perfect and comforting against his skin it felt completely at odds with what he was feeling. That it was a tuxedo at all was another matter. It made little sense for Fisk to send it to him.

It had occurred to him that this may be his last day on earth. The thought had led him to toying the idea of contacting Foggy and Karen but the way things were between them it had seemed better not to. During their last few exchanges his friends had been reluctant to see or talk to him and Matt had felt desperately lost, his heart heavy and a solid breaking weight, wanting their friendship but not knowing how to bridge the gap. They wouldn’t listen to him then and now … Well, anything he had to say now would only worry them, and worse maybe even endanger them.

Donovan had a note of pity in his voice when he greeted him, getting the non-disclosure quickly out of the way and briskly leading him to meet Fisk. A childish part of Matt wanted to push the older man away but he needed to be calm as possible before seeing Fisk. He couldn’t afford to piss him off any more than he already had. Lives were at stake here.

His senses had been alert as always but now they went into overdrive. He could sense Fisk was very close by.

OP -

*hand flapping* !!! Oh my god, this continues to be so CREEPY! He made him wear a TUX, ahhh!

Poor Matt.

(I'm assuming door thug was to report back as to the exact moment Matt reacted to the threat to Foggy. Testing whether he's really blind, hmm?)

Plot twist.

Foggy was invited too. he too got an invite with DD'S pic instead.

I lvoe this A.A
you are ruining me!

Oh my god I love this!!!!

VERY interesting. Tension is so palpable. Looking forward to see where this goes.

This is so interesting I'm so excited for the next part!

A tuxedoed Matt Murdock made something of a very pretty picture. It was no surprise to Fisk’s lawyer that the young man’s appearance caused something of a disturbance in the prison or that he was greeted by a series of catcalls and obscene invitations. Murdock had blushed, clearly humiliated and Donovan had politely ignored the cries and offered his support. He could feel Murdock tense as he held on to his arm, and by the time they entered Fisk’s cell the young man’s nerves had gotten the better of him and he was leaning heavily, almost curling up into him.

In spite of his nerves it didn’t detract from how brave he thought the younger man was. There were days, and he was Fisk’s lawyer and on his side for goddamn sake, that he felt the same way when confronting his client. If Fisk had hurt and threatened him the way he had Murdock then there was no way in hell he would ever face him willingly again. In a startling moment of clarity it occurred to him it did not matter what your relationship was to Fisk – the only safety to be had was in distance and he himself was treading a dangerous path. There was no way to tell how Wilson might react to something – and no tell either if he was about to erupt into a murderous rage. Sooner or later he might screw up. Fisk was a totally new creature to Donovan and all the more worrying for it. Beneath his seemingly calm exterior Donovan would not have been surprised to hear there was true madness raging.

At the door Murdock stiffened, as if aware of Fisk’s presence and that the large man’s beady little eyes were steadily trained on him. He took a deep breath, his shivers subsiding and made a conscious effort to untangle himself from Donovan, who reached out to take his cane. Without it Murdock looked even more fragile and a part of him felt something akin to shame. He quickly stamped down on it.

Objectively speaking, Donovan thought, it was a startling tableau. The large cell literally papered in what must be by now thousands of candid images of Murdock in various poses, and the lawyer himself standing in the midst of all that madness totally oblivious to his own image repeated again and again over the walls. There was not one square inch left uncovered. The table had been pushed aside and set for what looked like a rather intimate dinner. And, slap bang in the middle of it all, that large mountain of a man, Wilson Fisk. Even though he was set further back in the room he towered over the slender figure of Murdock.

Fisk, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth was greedily devouring the sight of Matt Murdock. Donovan shuddered, reminded of a childhood bully who only looked truly happy when he was torturing some small animal. Fisk still hadn’t looked away from Matt, seemingly lost for a moment. When he finally spoke his lawyer jumped.

“Thank you, Donovan. I’ll send for you when I am ready.” Fisk’s laser like focus had not shifted once throughout the dismissal; he was still staring at Matt Murdock.

--

Matt had no time for Donovan. He was the exact kind of lawyer he despised; slick, duplicitous and without scruples, but when he left the room he felt his loss keenly.

Deep breath, Murdock. Focus.

They were alone in the cell. The wing had been abandoned and the nearest men were out of sight if not earshot, stationed at the security doors several metres away. Fisk moved and was standing in front of him now and Matt braced himself for a hit. It didn’t come.

The cell was large. Obviously all pretence at Fisk not running this prison had been dropped. His room (definitely not a cell) was comfortably furnished and there was a table set for dinner in the corner. There was… something odd with the walls. It looked like hundreds and hundreds of documents of various sizes had been fixed to the walls. Matt had no idea what they were but their haphazard arrangement played havoc with his senses.

Fisk stepped closer and Matt, startled, took a step backwards until he forced himself to still. He was a Murdock, he could do this. “Mr. Fisk. You wanted to talk?”