ddk_mod (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ddk_mod) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
daredevilkink2017-08-15 08:44 am
ddk_mod) wrote in daredevilkink2017-08-15 08:44 am
Entry tags:
Defenders Prompt Post #1
Fills from all posts: Completed & WIPs
Defenders-only Discussion Post
This post is for prompts involving everyone in Netflix's The Defenders! Crossovers between anyone in the four individual shows should go here. Prompts only including characters from one show should still go on the relevant show prompt post.
Rules:
- General
- YKINMKATO. Play nice. If you don't like something, scroll on.
- All comments must be anon. If you would like to be politely banned to avoid anon-failing, leave a logged-in comment on the mod post or pm the mod account.
- Subject lines should only be changed if you're posting a prompt or a fill (indicators like OP or Author!Anon should go in the body of the comment).
- RPF is allowed. Crossovers, characters from the extended Marvel Universe and comics canon are allowed, but must relate to the 2017 TV show in some way.
- Drop a comment on the mod post if you have any questions or problems.
- Prompts
- All types of prompts are welcome.
- Use the subject line for the main idea of your prompt (pairing or characters, keywords, kink).
- Warnings are nice, but not mandatory. Get DW Blocker if there's anything you really don't want to see.
- Fills
- Put [FILL] or something similar in the subject line when posting a fill.
- Announce your fill on either the Completed Fills Post or the WIP Post.
- Long fills can either be posted over multiple comments, or posted on AO3 and linked back here.
- Multiple fills are always okay.
- Fills can be anything! Fic, art and vids are all welcome.
Frank/Matt accidental bonding
(Anonymous) 2017-09-18 07:45 am (UTC)(link)Frank and Matt are in some way bonded, mentally, A/B/O style, literally physically glued together, or whatever else you can come up with, through circumstances beyond either of their control.
Bonuses
+ Defenders being not okay with it
++Frank doesn't kill during this (if it's temporary) and Matt almost wishes it was permanent
Re: Frank/Matt accidental bonding
(Anonymous) 2017-09-19 02:37 am (UTC)(link)Fill: Suicide is Painless, It brings on many changes (1/?)
Author: StarWindDancer
Pairing: Frank Castle/Matt Murdock, Danny Rand/Colleen Wing, Defenders together!
Warnings: Explicit. Major character deaths ahead.
Quick author's note: I use X said, Y says allot. That's b/c I get confused who is talking when reading fanfic at work on breaks. Sorry, not sorry.
*** **** ***The Beginning*** **** ***
It’s been a long couple of days & Frank was tired. Tired and sore and it’s the anniversary. The last couple of nights have been long. Empty. His feet itch, his hands itch. Unsettled as he prowls the streets and alleys and clubs and warehouses, and all the places creeps hang out.
The night is jagged and sharp, calling to him.
A scream.
Yelling draw him into an alleyway. A woman struggling with a purse snatcher. He’s pulled out a knife to cut the strap of the purse, but she bats it away. More yelling.
“I’d leave the lady alone!” Castle says. It’s his lieutenant voice, the voice used to being obeyed, heeded.
“Fuck off,” another swipe of the knife. The straps are easily sliced, the broken tails harder to hold onto. The purse just slips out of the woman’s hands as the purse snatcher grabs the bulk and runs off.
As he takes aim, a red baton slams against his wrist, spoiling it, the gun flying out of his hand. A body comes out of the darkness from above, taking out the purse snatcher. The punk is on the ground, quickly unconscious. DD picks up the purse trying to hand it to the recently robbed woman. She screams at the devil, throws something at him and runs off.
“That was helpful,” DD tells the air, as the woman runs off into the night, leaving her purse behind. Turning to Castle, he addresses him. “Were you really going to kill the kid over a purse?”
Instead of a proper answer, he just swears at the vigilante while looking for his gun.
DD drops the purse to pull out his burner phone to report the crime. As if he’s dismissing Castle and what he could do. Mind already elsewhere, scanning the city for trouble.
The perp groans, struggling to consciousness. Castle goes to kick the kid in the head when they both spot the gun between them.
Mad scrabble then the purse snatcher gets lucky, he gets the gun and puts a couple slugs into Castle’s vest. It’s not his good one, so the impact hurts, rocks him back. The gun swings DD’s way but the shots go wide as the vigilante does that flip-twist thing he does.
Another second and Castle is on the perp again. Grappling the gun out of his hands and pistol whipping him into unconsciousness. From this distance, he’s not going to miss.
“He’s a purse snatcher. He doesn’t deserve to die for that,” DD yells at him, grabbing on to spoil his aim once again.
“A punk. Nothing but a punk. The only way to keep him down is to put him down!” Castle yells back, trying to re-orient the gun at the prone body.
DD snatches at him.
They grapple with the gun. Their bodies close, their usual dance. DD jerks to gun towards himself.
*BANG*
His finger wasn’t on the trigger. No, it couldn’t be. He wouldn’t fight DD with a finger on the trigger.
Pain of a broken finger tells him otherwise.
Frank looks into DD’s surprised face. He barely has time to reach out and catch the wiry man as he collapses to the ground.
Chest shot. Point blank. Too close to the heart.
“No no no no no,” Frank holds him close. “Stay with me, Alter boy.”
But it’s too late. He knows it. Rips off that stupid mask.
“Stay with me, Red. Stay with me!” Castle yells at DD, at Murdock.
Shallow breaths. Blood warm. Stinging his hands as he presses down. One last, quick shudder. Silence.
Steely blue eyes, sightless, unfocused. They stare at nothing, past and over him. Empty.
The pain inside. Castle hasn’t felt this pain so sharp, so cutting since he last held his family. His children, his wife, gone, bloody in his arms. The new body in his arms is just as heavy, just as bloody. Sharp cooper tang of blood in the air, ripping into his lungs, ripping into every breath he takes.
Empty, empty, gone, gone. Not coming back. Lost forever.
Yelling.
Screaming.
Begging.
He feels raw and open and far too empty for this much pain. Hurt. Sadness.
The gun is in his hand. Again? Still? Slick with blood and viscera. Cordite. Sulfur. Too strong in his nose.
Flashlights trailing on him and the body in his arms.
“Police. Drop the weapon!”
Pain. Pain. Screaming. Too much! Too much!
“Jesus Christ, he’s killed the Devil!”
The darkness rises, fire red swallowing him whole. Screaming. His throat is raw. The gun, the gun is in his hands.
“Freeze! Police! We will shoot!”
Frank doesn’t care if he hears the bullets that kill him. His alter boy, DD is dead. Because of him.
*** **** ***
There is fuzziness. A soft white. Too cool air that seems to pull you out of yourself rather then pressing you down. He feels open and light and not completely there. A shape. A presence. Something over him. His hand shoots upwards, grabbing around a small, fragile neck. It feels too small and full of splinters under his fingers.
“He’s awake, dear god, he’s awake!” someone shouts.
“Get him under,” shouts, fragments of sounds. “Restrain him!” Cussing. Hands on him, fingernails biting into his arm. “Get him down!” Pain. Pressure. Pressing him down, darkness coalescing at the edges of his non-vision. “Stop him!”
Silky sweet voice whispering promises directly into his head. So tired. He needs to sleep.
“This is not part of our agreement…”
Darkness. Again.
*** **** ***
Fill: Suicide is Painless, It brings on many changes (2/?)
(Anonymous) 2019-06-21 09:08 pm (UTC)(link)Well, here's hoping.
*** **** ***
There are noises inside Red’s apartment. Someone is rummaging around, getting into things. Not frantically. Just more bodies in there then he’s expecting. A soft woman’s voice, a reply. Oh, Karen & Foggy. They must have dropped by.
A quick moment to jimmy the absolutely terrible lock. As many enemies as DD has been making lately, it’d probably be a good idea to do an upgrade. Next time Castle drops by, he’ll install a decent lock & a kick-plate. Maybe two. He seems to remember the apartment door is somewhat wonky as well.
He clomps down the stairs, trying to make enough noise for the two friends so they know it’s him. Either those bat ears or maybe that bloodhound nose of his will have alerted DD to his presence already.
His friendly greeting is met with Karen Page pointing her gun at him while Foggy Nelson has his bat ready.
“What’s this? What are you doing?” Castle is confused. It looks like the two friends have torn the apartment apart. Boxes are stacked everywhere. Books, papers, tapes, canned goods, kitchen utensils, blankets, and clothes are sorted in piles on every available surface.
“Like you don’t know,” Page huffs at him. Dismissive as she goes back to sorting kitchen stuff into boxes.
“You’re not welcome here, anymore,” Foggy points the bat at him. “Now get out.”
“Wait, is Red moving?”
“Really, that’s what you’re going with? I know your head is all Crackerjack boxed up there,” Nelson taps his head with the bat. “But surely you haven’t forgotten the other night so quickly.”
“No, I don’t… Where’s Red?”
Laughter. Page slams down the can in her hand. “Dead. DD is dead because of you.” Voice icy.
“You and your damn war. It got him killed,” Foggy said.
What? No, it couldn’t have. He’d remember. But as he searched the rooms, he could see the dust, the disarray. The emptiness of the place. The bedroom cold and echoing and forgotten. The closets open maws of dark emptiness. The bathroom moldy and damp with decay. The main room slowly leaching away into those boxes.
“I don’t remember. Karen, please, can you tell me what happened? I don’t remember. He can’t be gone?” Castle pleads.
“You killed him. Ruled accidental. Otherwise you’d be rotting in a prison cell somewhere. And I’d happily throw away the key,” Foggy says.
“It’s probably ironic then, that you can’t seem to remember killing him. After all that death, after all those murders, the one person who could see the good in you and you go and kill him. Bang, bang, dead,” Karen finishes up for Foggy.
This can’t be happening. Castle’s head is spinning from the shock. He keeps trying to reach for the memory, anything of what could have transpired between the two vigilantes. But there’s nothing there, nothing for him to hold onto.
“My best friend is dead because of you,” Foggy said. He stormed over to one of the arm chairs that was piled high with blankets. He ripped off the blanket to reveal DD sitting there.
Blood and viscera and teeth and wild eyes and burnt flesh and Jesus Christ, is that a zombie?!?
A zombie wearing DD uniform.
It lurches forwards, pulled tight against the bonds holding it in the chair. Teeth snapping ineffectually in the air.
“DD is dead because of you. Because you couldn’t protect him. Because you couldn’t play by the rules,” Karen Page’s voice is savage as she cuts into him. “And we’re left to pick up the pieces once again!”
“Yeah, you’re no use to us. Just another example of humanities worst,” Foggy said.
Karen picked up her handgun again, aiming it right at Castle. The barrel wide and dark. “DD always said no killing. But he meant humans. Not like you. You left your humanity behind a long time ago.”
“Do it, Karen. I think DD wouldn’t mind us putting this filth down,” Foggy said.
The thing in the chair snarled and snapped at him. Castle watched the three friends… two friends? In horror. Expecting to see the muzzle flash at any time.
“No. I don’t think that I will. He who has lived by the sword should not die by the sword,” Karen misquotes. Instead she switches her gun for a switchblade in her purse. With a snick, it opens, she crosses the room to grab the zombie DD by the back of his restraints. “I think it’s time for DD to get some payback of his own.”
Once the ropes holding him are sliced, the rabid zombie DD lurches across the room at him. In his stunned state, he can only brace a forearm against the thing’s chest, holding back those snapping, bloody teeth. Trying to avoid the claws.
“Have fun, buddy,” Foggy says. Him and Karen grabbing their coats & things to leave. “You deserve it.”
The lock engaging sounds abnormally loud over the snarling thing he’s fighting.
*** **** ***
Suicide is Painless, It brings on many changes (3/?)
Author: StarWindDancer
Pairing: Frank Castle/Matt Murdock, Danny Rand/Colleen Wing, Defenders together!
Warnings: Explicit. Major character deaths ahead.
Authors note: now getting to the meat of the story.
There’s frantic banging on the door to Alias Investigations. It wakes her up to another bleary morning.
OK, she’s only 80% sure that it’s before noon. The smell of coffee in the air indicating that Malcolm had stopped by to make some. If it’d been after noon, the smell would already be gone.
And, oh, yeah, there is a still lukewarm cup at her desks edge.
“Come in. It’s open,” Jones says, gulping the tepid liquid before pouring a measure of... well, the bottle was open and it was alcoholic. She didn't rightly care. It was just dredges at this point anyways.
“Ah, yeah, just,” fumbling. Sounds like two people tussling for a moment before some stranger walks in with a very distracted and agitated Matt Murdock. The stranger is practically dragging the blind man behind him.
The guy is kinda large, on the elderly side. Probably was a linebacker in his youth but that was so far back that the guy didn’t look on it as the glory days. Probably spent more time chasing after grandchildren. Probably older grand kids, just hitting puberty. Friendly smile, open face. Abashed posture.
As for Matt Murdock, he looks like shit. His cane is hanging by the wrist strap, tripping both of the men up. His clothes looked rumpled; half done up like he’d dressed in a hurry. Still in sleep pants rather than his usual slacks. Wearing an over large, too warm coat for this time of year. Glasses askew. Gym bag slung over his back. A familiar gym bag. Two different shoes on the wrong feet. Like he’d just grabbed two from the lineup by his front door and tossed them on. Grumbling at something that only he could sense.
She’s across the room, grabbing onto the lawyer before she can really think about it. The elderly man isn’t a threat but something is very wrong here. Murdock clings back, holding her tight enough that if she was normal, it’d hurt & bruise. Still might. The vigilante wasn’t average either.
“I found him wandering in the streets, bumping into things. He kept insisting that he’s fine but I couldn’t just let him just accidentally walk into the street, now could I? Kept talking about saving a castle? And insisting he needed to get here, to Alias Investigations. Is he a friend of yours? Is he, you know,” the elderly man waved a hand at his head. “Ah, never mind. It probably isn’t politically correct to say that anymore. I mean, if he’s having an attack or a disassociation episode? Is that what they’re called?”
“You delivered him. Now get out,” Jones ordered. The abashed elderly man wasn’t useful to this part of the plot. She had to figure out what was up with space-case here. She really didn’t care as he left, slamming the door behind him.
More muttering, half words that she couldn’t make out. Murdock ducked, weaved side to side like he was avoiding something in a fight. His grip on her sweater tight, tearing in his agitation.
Damn, she liked this sweater.
“Snap out of it,” she yelled. She slapped him lightly across the face. Well, light for her.
Murdock jerked in her arms, stilling. His hand coming up to press against the flesh starting to redden from the sting. “OW!”
“Yeah, well, it’s what you deserve for ruining my favorite sweater. Now will you please tell me what’s going on?”
“OK, pain is good. You might have to slap me again in a minute,” Murdock said.
“I can go ahead and do it now,” Jones replied.
“Ah, just let me,” he said, tilting his head to examine the room. “He’s gone.”
She huffed at him; he could totally ask if they were alone. Always making things difficult. “Explain now,” she said.
“Right,” Murdock said. He shuffled away from her, trying to put himself to rights. Running his fingers through his wild hair. Adjusting his glasses. Patting down his front,
“While we’re still young,” Jones said. She’d gone to her desk to pull out a bottle of Rum from a drawer, half full. Not the rumchata in her coffee she’d prefer but wasn’t half bad.
“It’s not something I know how to explain. But I didn’t know what else to do. It’s not something I can handle on my own,” Murdock said. A jerk of his head. Quick shuffle of feet into a defensive posture. “Ah, you may need to slap me here in a minute. It’s getting harder to focus on the here and now.”
She threw a lotion bottle at him.
He missed, his fingers barely skimming the surface as it clattered across the room. What the hell?
“It’s not me, I can’t see the office,” he said.
“Really now,” her tone as dry as the desert. The blind jokes had gotten old after the first week of knowing him.
“No, I mean,” jerk of the head, ducking down. Murdock took a deep calming breath, wringing the top of his cane hard. “I mean… crap. Somebody is torturing Frank Castle. They’re holding him prisoner and I’m seeing what he’s seeing. I think they’re giving him psychotropics to cause nightmares, some type of visions. Except I’m seeing those visions too. Right now, in my head, I’m seeing myself fight with the Punisher on a roof top. We’re getting really, really close to the edge and I’d really like it to stop now.”
“So, you decided to walk here?” Jones asked. This didn’t make sense to her but she could tell that the lawyer wasn’t lying to her.
“Yes, not my best decision,” Murdock says. “But I didn’t know what to do. I need your help. We need to find him, get him out of there before… before whatever happens happens.”
His arms flail out while his feet dance under him. Exactly like he’s trying to catch himself from falling.
“I can’t control it. I’ve tried meditating, focusing in on him and trying to find out what’s going on but I can’t,” he sounds distraught. He’s starting to twitch like he’s reacting to stuff in his head. “Pain like when you slapped me or when I stubbed my toe getting ready, it helps. I can focus on the here & now better. I know it’s day time, but I brought my stuff. If you hit me, hurt me, we can get out there and find him. Please, I can’t...” Murdock throws himself hard to the side, hitting Malcolm’s desk heavily before tumbling to the ground.
Jones rushes over him, trying to assess the damage, keep him from moving before checking to see if he knocked himself senseless.
“Ow,” Murdock says, holding the side he hit the desk with. “Well, that works too. Shit. And I think those ribs had just healed up too.”
“But it should keep you focused while we figure out what to do,” Jones said as she helped him up. It took some fumbling to get him untangled from his stuff. The coat & cane hung by the door; the gym bag of DD’s stuff pushed under the sofa at his feet. He looked pretty pathetic there, with ice over his bruised ribs.
But Jessica Jones was on the case. Luke Cage and Fistboy are called. (He really hates you calling him that. And that’s why I do it. So asking you to stop calling me Devilcakes isn’t going to work. Ooh, I like that one. Hey, I never called you devilcakes? Oh, my bad. Must be someone else.)
Murdock dozes with the light banter between them. Jones’s, the private investigator tapping away at the keys, finding clues that he couldn’t see. (Really. Let’s be done with the blind jokes already. I’ll stop once the Fisting jokes stop being funny. That is never going to happen. I rest my case. )
Re: Suicide is Painless, It brings on many changes (3/?)
(Anonymous) 2019-07-02 09:09 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Suicide is Painless, It brings on many changes (3/?)
(Anonymous) 2019-07-16 10:33 pm (UTC)(link)Fill: Suicide is Painless, It brings on many changes (4/?)
Author: StarWindDancer
Pairing: Frank Castle/Matt Murdock, Danny Rand/Colleen Wing, Defenders together!
Warnings: Explicit. Major character deaths ahead.
Quick author's note: I did not abandon it. Just got restricted on computer usage and time. Will work on formatting & posting to AO3. Thanks for the feedback.
*** **** ***
“What do you do? What do you do?” Spittle from Castle’s mouth flying in his rage as he yelled through their argument again. “You act like this city is a playground. You beat up the bullies with your fists. You throw them in jail, everyone calls you a damn hero! Then a month, a day, a week later they’re back on the streets doing the same damn thing. Hurting people, eating this city alive!”
“But they have hope, Frank, they have hope.” DD pleaded with the man. “It may take a week or a month or even a couple years but they can turn their lives around. They can watch their kids grow up and think ‘I can be a better man.’ And you take that away from them. You take what that person is, what they can be and you burn it to the ground. Killing isn’t the answer, Frank. It never is!”
“Ahg! It’s like talking to a brick wall! I can’t keep doing this, Red. I can’t keep explaining myself to you!” Castle yells back. Pacing the length of the warehouse. The AK in his hands heavy, as if it was trying to drag him down.
“Then why do you explain it, why do you keep dragging me back here? What do I need to see? To understand?” DD asks. He reaches out, trying to still the agitated vigilante.
“You need to know why they,” gesturing to the frozen wall of mobsters. A veritable arcade of Mexican Standoff. “They need to die.”
“No, they don’t. If you think I’m going to just stand by while you kill them. I can’t,” DD says then stands in front of Castle, moving the gun nozzle over his heart, holding it there. “If anyone dies here, I’m going to be the first.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Castle says. The shooting begins.
Its absolute carnage until it isn’t. The ringing in his ears from the ricochet of bullets and guns and casings and dying screams. There is the pain and pressure of his injuries, the sharp tang of different metals in the air. He remembers this, remembers how it was in war. After the firefight. Waiting in the dead silence for a medic, for evac.
Castle watches over the carnage. Watches over the dead bodies. A broken doll left behind to rot in this cesspool. He’d pulled DD’s body into his lap, watching over the broken thing.
Watching in the silence.
Until his eyes are no longer able to watch.
*** **** ***
“I’m coming for you, Frank,” but Murdock’s voice is pleading, soothing. “I just need you to hold on.”
*** **** ***
By the time Cage & Rand get to her place, the pain from his bruised ribs aren’t enough to keep Murdock focused. She’d stuffed him in her bedroom, having it out with her mattress against the wall. He kept banging into stuff, yelling at Castle to stop.
But she had her clues. Online police reports, tweets, facebook posts, and shoddy video placed The Punisher against a biker gang last night.
They had just upgraded themselves from petty thievery, smuggling, and a protection racket to rumors that they were getting into the sex trade. Such things as human trafficking, under-aged porn, and strawberry wives. Alone, any of that would get the gang on either her or the Punisher’s shit list. Altogether, it made it on Castle’s “take care of it now” list. She didn’t begrudge the man his vendetta one little bit. After having been a strawberry wife to Kilgrave, though thru mind manipulation rather than drugs, she had no sympathy with what the biker gang had coming to them.
But it looked like the marine had bit off more than he could chew. The last reports of a 'gun toting maniac with a scull' had him running off from the scene of the crime. Away from the biker’s HQ. And there was no chatter of them having offed the Punisher. If the gang had accomplished that, there would be partying in their street. The body crucified for all to show their might.
Instead, it just seemed that the bike shop & bar was closed for the day. Holed up and licking their wounds.
Well, they were about to get more wounds.
*** **** ***
Frank Castle screamed and screamed. It just wasn’t fair! Holding DD’s broken body, feeling the breath rattle in the vigilante hero’s lungs. He could only hold the man to him in these last moment. Give him only a little bit of comfort before death.
The opening of the crusher far above him, only a speck of the night sky and its anemic NY scene of stars. It was cold at the bottom. Cold and hard and it hurt too much. The death rattle from Red too loud in the silence.
Until there was no more silence.
With a whir and a clicking, the crusher started to compress. It was loud and echoing as the junk around them started to crunch under the weight. It was getting harder to breath down there, curing his body around the wiry, dying man in his arms.
But he could imagine nothing else he could do, nothing else to say. They would die together here, in the dark, in the crushing weight of the world’s trash. Much like they’d done in life. Two Atlases holding their corner of the world.
An angel and a demon, reaching across the void before the darkness takes them all.
*** **** ***
Fill: Suicide is Painless, It brings on many changes (5/?)
Author: StarWindDancer
Pairing: Frank Castle/Matt Murdock, Danny Rand/Colleen Wing, Defenders together!
Warnings: Explicit. Major character deaths ahead.
Quick author's note: I'm working on it, got 85% done and really in need of a beta. My e-mail is starwinddancer at yahoo dot com
*** **** ***
It was easier to convince Rand of what was happening between Murdock and Castle then it was to persuade Cage. Jones wasn’t sure she totally believed him but it was obvious something was going on. As long as she could tag along and punch things, repeatedly, they could mumbo-jumbo their hearts out. Cage seemed to be on more of her side of the fence.
The immortal Iron Fist, however, seemed to have a bit of knowledge on the hokus-pocus that was connecting the two vigilantes. He’d pulled Murdock back into the bedroom, with the DD gym bag, to talk in low whispers. They sat in a meditation pose, Rand wrapped partially around the older man. A glowing hand stroking through messy brown locks.
Too weird for her tastes. So, she’d closed the door, running Cage through what she’d found and what she planned.
The two ninja members of their happy little band emerged much later. When she was contemplating if she wanted to wash the lunch dishes or not. Apparently, her fridge held enough to make a couple sandwiches for them all before heading out. The bottomless pit of Iron would be hungry after that little talk.
DD was in uniform with one of the spare hoodies that Cage kept leaving behind over its glaring red. The hoodie only had two bullet holes in it so it was still good after a wash. Next to him, Iron Fist was dressed in his own hoodie. The yellow buff he used to cover the lower half of his face around his neck, ready to pull up. Luke Cage in his usual hoodie & t-shirt, they made quite the matching set.
"Let's go rescue us an asshole," Jessica says, as she dons her leather jacket and scarf. Unlike the others, she likes looking the part of a BAMF.
*** **** ***
There is death in the sky.
It looks like a long, lazy sunset. All reds and purples. Oranges and blues. Streaks of it reaching to the horizon above their head. Even the sound of it is full of longing and harmonious.
Castle turns from the apocalypse to the man at his side in the end of it all.
His fingers slot around Murdock's head. Cupping lightly so he doesn't block those sensitive ears. The ragged callus on his thumb catching on the delicate ridge as it traces that lovely curve. He presses their foreheads together, his nose filled with the musky scent of the slightly shorter man. Their close bodies, their breath sharing the same space, the same heat between them.
"All that death, all those live, Frank?" Murdock said. His lips whisper quiet, so near Castle's own.
"It doesn't matter. It's done," Castle murmurs back.
"I can hear their prayers," Murdock said. "I can hear them dying."
"Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight. Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay. And you, my father, there on the sad height, curse, bless, me now with your
what comfort he can in the last moments of the world. "Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light."
Their silent ashes drifting through voiceless streets.
*** **** ***
Frank Castle typically didn't leave behind live ones. He is pretty through in his killing. No civilians, no women, no kids as he scorches the earth of those he goes after. So, it was a bit of a surprise to get to the biker bar slash biker garage and find it occupied with bikers rather than morticians & police. Probably because the gang wanted to keep their illegal activities on the down low, the bodies had been stashed away and the remaining bikers were holed up to lick their wounds.
The immortal Iron Fist stood before the garage door, stretching his neck side to side, breathing deep. The calm rolled over him, from his head to his toes. Centered. Ready. The golden glow moving slowly from his center, his chi flowing from his core into his hand as water flows from a faucet into a bowl. His fingers stretched and flexed, ready for the upcoming fight.
One blow, the door splinters into the garage and the fight is on.
“We should be in there,” DD said, a moment later.
“Yeah, and how many fingers am I holding up?” Jones said. Her fist directly in his face with only the middle one showing.
DD gave a cry, jerking back, curling in on himself. His arms covering his torso. Protecting it as he dropped to his knees with a cry.
She kicked him in the leg, then jerked him back up to standing in a piercing grip. “What about now?”
“Er, sorry. Took two to the chest. Castle’s going after the gunman now,” DD said. Uncurling himself then rubbing at his arm where she grabbed him. “They shot Karen.” Sadness in his voice.
“Don’t worry, devilboy. We’re getting close,” Jones said. She grabs an escaping blockhead and tosses him back at the melee in the bar. Damn, it looked like Danny and Cage were having fun. How did she draw the short straw?
Right, because she was the only one who noticed that DD wandered off while they were on their little hike to the bar. While they had veered left on 9th Ave, DD had just out-right turned left and walked along a street that only he could see. A street that didn't exist that was covering up the real street with a different orientation and that real construction site.
He'd gotten himself trapped behind a mesh fence like a funnel fish trap. He couldn't see the fence nor could he "see" the fence with his senses. Instead, he'd just waited there, hanging onto the fence, waiting to be rescued by his friends. If Jones suspected him of crying in frustration, well, that was a secret she was taking to the grave. Murdock was one of the strongest men she'd known, but everyone was allowed their off day.
Instead, Jones had grabbed his hand, leading him out of the trap and back onto the street of oblivious New Yorkers who were too busy with their own shit.
This meant it was her job to baby-sit the haggard vigilante while the chaos dip-$#!+$ had all the fun. Though sit was probably a good option. Jones had to grab and physically put DD by her side like he was an unruly kitten. He even did the hissing thing. It was adorable... at least to someone who was a friend.
Once the fighting wound down, Cage yelled through the door that there was a man that'd like to talk with them. Jones had stormed in first, kicking away bodies to make sure to clear a path for the man following her.
Or who was supposed to be following her.
Jones rolled her eyes at the fool before going back to get him, dragging him into the bar like the unruly kitten he was. (Fucking hell, she liked that the image of him. A surly, feral kitten indeed.) Hissing included.
*** **** ***
Re: Fill: Suicide is Painless, It brings on many changes (5/?)
Fill: Suicide is Painless, It brings on many changes (7/?)
Author: StarWindDancer
Pairing: Frank Castle/Matt Murdock, Danny Rand/Colleen Wing, Defenders together!
Warnings: Explicit. Major character deaths ahead.
If you're looking for part 6, it isn't here yet. I keep getting stuck! I could really use a beta reader. I'm only posting part 7 b/c I'm putting this on the back burner b/c I'm still stuck and it's driving me crazy!! I'm taking a break from this temporarily while I work on another fic. Hopefully it will clear my head. I also have a HUGE section of back story. Random ideas & history to put up. Maybe. And yes, my e-mail is the same as my pen name. Have had it since the 90's. StarWindDancer at yahoo dot com.
*** **** ***
“You can’t kill him, Frank?” DD’s voice is pleading.
Karen struggles against her attacker. The gun pressed to her temple.
“I got this,” Castle’s hand is steady as a rock. He has the shot. He’s just waiting for the dumb ass to focus back on him and DD. He doesn’t want to risk the death throws from the gunman pulling the trigger.
“No, I don’t think you do,” the gunman blows Karen’s brains out. They splatter across the wall, her body thumping to the ground.
Castle’s not sure what happens next but the gunman’s face is a bloody pulp under his hands. The perp is laughing as DD pulls Castle off him.
“I’m going to murder you! I’m going to end you, you son-of-a-bitch!”
“You can’t, please, you can’t,” DD yells in his ear. “Karen wouldn’t want this.”
“The fuck to what Karen would want! She’s dead. She’s gone. I’m going to end you,” Castle points as best he can in DD’s strong grip.
The gunman is laughing, using the wall as leverage to stand again. Karen’s hand canon of a gun in his hand. “Not before I end you,” he shouts.
Instinctively Castle ducks. Throws himself to the side.
**BAMM**BAMM**
In horror, Castle looks back to where he left DD standing. Two holes in his torso gushing blood. Shocked & surprised. The vigilante hero crumples slowly to his knees. Hands out, face tilted up as if he was in prayer at St. Agnes Church.
But there are no prayers answered here.
Just a soft crumple of a body in death.
Castle doesn’t even feel the other bullets as they kill him. He’s got moments before he’s dead. Moments to get at that damned gunman. The neck snapping as it got a 360 view of the hallway.
His own knees crumple under him then. A hand barely catching himself from face-planting into the carpet. He reaches out, his fingertips barely reaching to touch DD’s still ones. Darkness comes but not before he could feel his hand, his fingers lacing with Red’s as if folded in prayer.
Their final prayer.
*** **** ***
“You’re stronger than this.” And how can Murdock’s voice be so full of sadness and pain?
*** **** ***
“This might be a dead end,” Cage is saying.
"I smell blood," DD said.
"Yeah, there is a bit of it around," Jones said, looking at the carnage inside the building. "Wait, can you tell which blood is whose? That's effed up."
"No, I can..." DD head seesawed then jerked to the right. Cage grabbed the smaller man before he could tumble over. He did an arm twirl thing that knocked the strong hero's hand away and led to a palm hand strike to his arm pit. It jolted them both.
"Oops, sorry. Reflex," said the red ninja but there was too much humor in his tone for Cage to take it seriously. "Yeah, I had it for a second. I'm just having trouble concentrating. Focusing. Too much sensory input. I need... to... focus..." DD slowly walks a couple of steps then stops near the open garage door. He reaches out, waving a hand, stops, takes a small step to the left, a small wave, then grabs onto the door frame. "Ok, perceptions off. Watch the distances," he says quietly to himself.
Luke steps up to him and pats the crook of his arm twice, indicating that DD can take it. "Please, just, no hitting. It doesn't hurt, exactly, but I still feel it," Luke says.
"Noted," DD replies. He points ahead of them and a little to the right. Luke goes slowly as DD scents the air, his head tilting, moving as he takes in their surroundings. Cage following the direction the finger is pointing him to. "Stop," with accompanying gesture. He points down an ally way. "Castle doesn't drink beer much, not like these guys. He takes vitamin, iron supplements that he started in the army. It has a fruitier taste, eh, smell to it than most men. He went that way."
"Really! Wow! That's awesome," Danny said, starting down the alley. Jones nearly strains her eye balls rolling them so hard. Luke starts leading DD after them.
"I'm pretty sure you're just messing with Danny at this point." Luke said, voice low. "Can really track him using his blood?"
DD snorts. "No, but it makes a great story. I mean, yeah, I can kind of pick up the smell of his blood, just a whiff of 'Eau de Castle,' but I'm really following the smell of his boot polish. He doesn't use the cheap stuff on his boots like the rest of these guys. Castle uses different body products to see if it'll throw me off, so that's out. But there's also the gun and knife oils he typically uses in this direction. Some at the bar uses the same type, so I'm sniffing that out with a grain of salt. Tracking is harder than normal but I think we're on the right path."
"Hey, I think I found something!" Danny shouts, running back to them with an empty black holster vest and a pair of Tac gloves. Both tacky with blood. "Do they smell fruity?" He asked, thrusting them under DD's nose.
DD jerked back, pushing the items away from him.
"Danny, he's not a dog," Cage said, exasperated.
"That's Franks," DD said, instead, before the two friends could start arguing. He took off one of his gloves before taking the items from Danny. HIs fingers ran over the tac gloves and vest straps, mapping out the objects. His fingers catching on the blood, feeling the thick viscos liquid that hadn't dried yet.
They were well worn but of high quality. Fingerless but they didn't start out that way. The rough edge cut along some of the finger tips, a tiny slit to allow more thumb movement. The reinforced knuckles sanded down just a tad.
Just the way Frank Castle likes them. Even if they didn’t reek of the gun oil the marine favored, Matt could ID them anywhere.
Jones was farther down the ally, kneeling down in the lee of a small concrete staircase. The door to the building nailed shut. But it was the things beside it that she was examining. Or rather things. Abandoned lighters, empty starting fluid can, little tiny zip bags, creepy looking plastic bottles, raw tobacco, cigarette butts & pack, and an empty syringe. "This stuff looks fresh, even the starting fluid can is still cold. I think some junkies were hanging out here last night. What do you say they saw something extra interesting last night?" Jones asked the team as they caught up to her.
But Luke and DD don’t get far before the ninja is jerking Luke back to whisper in his ear.
"Why are there four pedals in a car? And which ones the brake?" DD asks.
"It's the long skinny one, in the middle," Luke answers confused.
"That doesn't help." DD has taken his hands off the tall man and is pantomiming finding something with his hands.
"What's it like? What do you see? Are you able to do anything in these dream things?"
"Well, I can see the sky for one," DD said. "It's been 20 years. I'd kind of forgotten what the blue sky looked like. And green. I think that's the only good that's going to come out of this. I was starting to forget what colors looked like.
*** **** ***
Castle is dragging himself across the floor. He knows that he’s leaving behind a trail of blood but he doesn’t care. He just has to get there. Nothing else matters, he just has to get there.
“Frank! Frank! Please, you gotta help me here, man,” Micro is yelling at him. His terrified screams spurring the marine on.
The Lieberman family was counting on him. The Symtec strapped to their chests mocking him. An unconscious DD tied to another kitchen chair besides them.
Inch by agonizing inch, Castle crawls forwards. They’re all counting on him to save them.
Eventually DD wakes up, the screams from Castle & the Lieberman’s getting into that thick scull of his. He takes in his surroundings, assessing the situation before doing one of those cool front flips. The chair shatters from the impact, freeing the vigilante hero.
Once freed, he rushes over to check on Castle, turning him over in his arms to check the damage. The K-bar he took to the stomach repeatedly has left him open and leaking.
“Frank, what do I do? What do you need?” DD asks of him.
“The bomb. You have to take me to the bombs. I need to disarm them,” Frank tells him. He pulls off that stupid mask so he can look into those stupid blue eyes. They seem to focus on him, look right into Frank and it’s damn creepy. His fingers had left bloody streaks across that pale face. It all seems so obscene to him. “Help me get to my feet,” Castle directs.
Getting to the now frantic family is an agony of wills. If it wasn’t for DD’s strength and pure determination, Castle doubts that they could have made it. They stumble there and the marine has to yell at DD not to poke or prod at the mess of wires.
DD is holding onto him, supporting him as he tries to run through the different wires on the bombs. His brain is fuzzy, can’t seem to figure out which ones are there to confuse him, which ones really do have power running through them. There are too damn many of them. His mind runs through his training, runs through what they taught him. Triggers. Power sources. Wires. Explosives. It’s too much. A puzzle he doesn’t have time to figure out.
But the Liebermen family is counting on him, DD is counting on him. This is what he was trained for, this is what he’s here for.
“I don’t know. I don’t know. This doesn’t make any sense,” Castle said.
“Get it together,” Micro spits at him.
He can’t do it. He just can’t!
“Get out of here, Red. I can’t do it. You need to get out of here, save yourself!” Castle shoved at him, pushing DD away.
But the vigilante hero doesn't let go, doesn’t leave. “I’m here till the end of the line, Frank. I’m not leaving you behind. I’m as tied up in this as they are,” DD said.
Looking down.
DD hadn’t gotten out of the ropes, hadn’t escaped his bindings.
Christ almighty, he was as tied up as the Lieberman’s. Detonating cord wrapped around his torso. A small detonator blinking in time to the one facing him from David’s chest. It was hard to see the orange tubing against the red background of the costume. There wasn’t enough Det cord to cause that big of an explosion. Not like the vests on the Lieberman. But it would turn DD’s rib cage to peanut butter. He’d die from the impact blast.
And it was remotely linked together.
The pattern finally made sense; the extra wires weren’t just for show. The two detonation triggers were linked. If he disarmed one, the other would go off. A hero’s dilemma. To save a few or the one.
“You know what the right choice is here, Frank. You know what to do,” DD said.
With shaking hands, Frank reached out, fingering the white wire. The snips open, ready to clip. Save a family to lose a friend.
A Nokia phone chimed.
“Ah, ah, ah, Castle. Did you really think I’d make it that simple?” A voice that was long buried, damn it, the owner of that voice was most definitely dead, mocked him. “You keep trying to be the good man that you aren't. You’re like that whack-a-mole, just keep popping up where you’re not wanted. But I think I’ve found a bigger hammer.”
* beep ** beep *** BEEP****
Castle grabbed DD to fling them both into the next room. They landed on the floor where he tried to roll them around, get them further away.
**** BEEP ***** BEEP ******
Their legs tangled together in a mockery of a lovers embrace. Faces tucked into the other’s neck in much the same way.
***** BEEP ****** BOOM *******
“Fra...” an abortive scream.
The only sound that Frank hears after that is of the ravenous fire eating away at their flesh and bones.
*** **** ***