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daredevilkink2017-08-15 08:44 am
ddk_mod) wrote in daredevilkink2017-08-15 08:44 am
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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.
fill. role reversal au: elektra as a defender, matt as an assassin (2/2)
(Anonymous) 2017-10-24 04:43 pm (UTC)(link)“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” she says.
Luke glances at Elektra, whose hand’s snuck back into her bag. “I’d like to keep it that way,” he says.
“A wise decision,” says Alexandra, stepping away as if satisfied. She turns to the rest of them and says, “I can see you’ve formed a bond here. I promise you it won’t last.”
She’s very smug. It’s annoying.
“The more connections you have, the easier it will be to break you.”
Seriously, it’s getting annoying. Luke glances reflexively away from her, searching for Jessica, before he remembers—she left. It aches, surprisingly, to remember that, even if he knows it’s probably for the best. This isn’t her fight, after all. She’ll be safer far away from it.
—now Alexandra’s moved on to trying to tempt Elektra and Danny, placing her hands on their shoulders like an indulgent grandmother. “There are alternatives,” she says, kindly, “and we can work together. I might even let them go free.”
“Kid,” says Stick, warningly, “you walk with her, I’ll take you down myself.”
“Shut up, Stick,” says Elektra. To Alexandra, she says, “After what you did? You’re lucky I haven’t run you through with a fork.”
Danny glances, briefly, at Luke. What do I do?
Luke shakes his head. Say no.
Danny takes Alexandra’s hand off, frosty but polite. Elektra smacks it off her shoulder, glaring at the woman in undisguised hatred.
Alexandra sighs.
“They’re just like you, old man,” she says, sadly. “The only language they know is violence.” She snaps her fingers, and the front door all but explodes as if the table Jessica shoved in front of it was never there.
The man with the swords steps into view. Luke steps closer to Danny, whose fist starts glowing as he settles into a fighting stance.
Elektra snaps, whips her sai out and swings at Alexandra. The woman ducks, disarms Elektra with a quick and terrifying efficiency.
“Now, now, my child,” she says, scolding, “I just wanted to talk.”
“Too fucking late,” Elektra spits, and she slams her heel down on Alexandra’s foot. It’s the first time Luke’s seen the woman in white caught off her guard, and she stumbles back with a quiet curse in a language he doesn’t know.
“Plan not going well?” says Stick. Luke could swear he sounds amused, the old bastard.
“Hound,” says Alexandra, eyes flicking towards the man in red and black. He tilts his head in her direction, but his eyes don’t seem to track her. “Go on. Serve life itself.”
The man twirls the swords in his hands, almost like he’s showing off. Then he steps forward, and Luke tenses, ready to step in front and take the brunt of the blows if needed. Between the four of them, he knows he’s the only one who can stand up to a sharp weapon like a sword.
Then something skids, and a moment later an SUV crashes through the window and into the man, knocking him out of the way. The man groans, disoriented.
Jessica steps through the broken glass, and stands beside Luke.
“Anyone missed me?” she says.
fill. role reversal au: elektra as a defender, matt as an assassin (1/2)
(Anonymous) 2017-12-08 02:53 am (UTC)(link)Listen.
He’s. Moved on, sort of. At least he’s made it to the stage where Train doesn’t make him burst into tears, where he doesn’t find himself at a bar late at night trying to drown the grief in alcohol, where he’s coping in a healthy manner with grief and blame and anger.
He’s not—visiting so much, anymore. He used to visit Matt’s grave every day or so, like if he’d drop by often enough Matt would get the hint and drop out of wherever the hell he was hiding, say hi like he’d never died. Like Matt would just pop up at his own grave and apologize, for keeping him waiting.
He never did because. Well. Dead.
He doesn’t visit so much as he used to. He’s cut it down to every few weeks, and it doesn’t quite feel so dreamlike anymore, standing over his best friend’s grave. See? Acceptance.
If he still feels his heart crack whenever Kirsten plays her old Train album in the office, then that’s no one’s business but his own.
Speaking of Kirsten—
“Hey, Nelson,” she says, as Foggy steps into the office, standing up from the desk, “were you ever going to tell me you knew Elektra Natchios?”
Foggy blinks at her. Elektra’s here? As Elektra? “Uh, yeah,” he says, thinking fast, “it just never came up. Why?”
“Well, she’s in your office,” says Kirsten, “and if you ask me she’s looking a little desperate.” She huffs out a breath. “I offered to help her out, but she said she wanted you, god only knows why.” She frowns, says, “She also said something weird?”
A lead weight drops into Foggy’s stomach. “How weird?” he asks, hanging up his coat.
“Super weird,” says Kirsten. “What was it she said? Something about a hand with a long reach.”
Foggy breathes out, turns to Kirsten. She’s young, fresh from law school, itching to prove herself and also incidentally pay off her student loans. He’d been her, just two years ago. If Kirsten McDuffie, fresh-faced lawyer with something to prove, goes up against the Hand, she’s not going to make it to next year.
He says, “Take the day off, Kirsten.”
She blinks at him. “What?” she asks. “Nelson, what are you talking about?”
“Just—take the day off,” Foggy says, grabbing her by the shoulders. She jumps, surprised, eyes wide in shock. “Please, Kirsten.”
Kirsten takes his hands off, gentle, and says, “What’s going on? Come on, talk to me.”
He wishes he could. He really does. But telling Kirsten exactly what the nature of Elektra’s case is means telling her about Elektra being the new Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, means telling her about Matt’s secret, and he can’t do that. Not yet.
He swallows, and says, “I just—whatever Elektra’s brought, it’s bad. Real bad.” He doesn’t look at Matt’s old office, stripped now of everything Matt had moved into it. It’s Kirsten’s now, and he’s only just stopped seeing double whenever he walks in. “I can’t tell you more than that.”
“I think I can handle myself,” Kirsten says, so goddamn certain of herself that for a second Foggy thinks of Karen, with mace on her keychain.
“I know you can,” says Foggy. “But trust me, this is way above your pay grade.”
“You barely pay me at all,” says Kirsten.
“I’ll give you a raise,” says Foggy.
“Can you even afford one?”
“Just take the day off, McDuffie,” says Foggy. “Go and—be with your mom. She still needs you.”
Kirsten deflates, then, shakes her head. “You can’t just up and play that card when you want me out of trouble,” she says, but she picks her bag up, starts putting her files and her things inside.
“I let you pull the late ‘cause I was visiting my dead best friend card when you want me to do things for you,” Foggy shoots back.
“Fair,” Kirsten concedes. “But you’ll call if you need me, right?”
Foggy swallows. “Yeah, of course,” he says, and the lie tastes bitter on his tongue.
--
To be honest, he hadn’t expected Elektra to take up the mantle of protector of Hell’s Kitchen, after Matt’s death.
He had expected her to take the first flight out of New York after the funeral, though, so it had been a shock when she first landed on his fire escape. She moved lightly on her feet, a product of the same training Matt went through, but on this one occasion she’d hit the metal grating with a loud, dull thud.
“What the hell,” Foggy had said, fresh from having almost been mugged. He hadn’t seen his savior well, then, but they’d wielded a pair of swords—
She’d wielded a pair of swords, apparently, because Elektra had calmly tugged her mask down and said, “Now, is that any way to greet someone who’s saved you from getting shot in an alleyway?”
That hadn’t been an auspicious reunion.
He likes to think things have improved between them, sort of, in the time since Elektra’s settled into her role. Less screaming than there was at the start, for starters. Less awkward blubbering.
He opens the door to his office and blinks at her, dressed in a red shirt and dark pants. There are dark circles under her eyes, like she hasn’t slept, and a bruise on her cheek.
Her knuckles are split, just cleaned up.
She says, “Hello, Franklin.”
“Foggy,” says Foggy. “What’s up? I’m assuming it’s something serious, seeing as you took the time to talk to Kirsten and wait here for me instead of your usual surprise, I’ve been stalking you routine.”
“You have to admit, it’s quicker on both of us that way,” says Elektra, which, well, she may be right but still. “She’s very competent, by the way. I like her.”
“You’re an asshole,” Foggy informs her, checking outside his door and noting that Kirsten’s gone—her bag is nowhere to be found, and her door is locked. “Maybe it’s quicker for you, but this way means I get less heart attacks.”
“This way also means more awkward explanations to your new partner,” Elektra points out. “And you sent her away, don’t think I didn’t notice that.”
“Because you never meet up with me like this,” says Foggy, moving to the window, looking nervously around. “You went to all this trouble when you could’ve just dropped onto my fire escape as per usual. That means something’s wrong.”
“Observant,” says Elektra, and Foggy could swear she sounds almost impressed. “Very well, then: the Hand is back.”
Foggy turns, and says, voice admirably steady, “The—The Hand?”
“Yes,” she says.
“The evil ninja clan that—”
That killed Matt. He can’t finish.
Elektra nods.
Foggy slumps into his chair and says, “I thought they were gone for good.”
“They never left,” says Elektra. “They slunk away into the shadows and waited for the right time to reemerge. It’s what they do.”
“So what are you going to do?” he asks her.
“I’m going to destroy the Hand, root and stem,” she says, and the conviction in her voice is worrying. It reminds him of Matt, the solid conviction in his voice when he said the city needs me in that mask. “That’s the only way to ensure they can’t hurt anyone else in this city again. Or anyone else at all.”
“That’s not your responsibility,” Foggy says, pushing away thoughts of Matt, what if what if what if. “This Hand group—if we can dig up a paper trail—”
“You can’t use legal channels to bring them down,” says Elektra. “They’ll weasel out of it, every time.” She stands up, and says, “Anyway, I didn’t come here to debate my methods with you. I came here to tell you to get out of the office and haul your overworked ass to the police precinct.”
Foggy says, “What?”
“It’s the safest place to be for now,” says Elektra, smiling at him humorlessly. “You’ll be of great interest to the Hand, and if they try to abduct you, I’d rather make it difficult for them. Hence, the precinct.”
“I have a deposition today,” says Foggy.
“Certainly you could go,” says Elektra, with a shrug, “but they could abduct you from your all-important deposition, easily. After all, they abducted Page once.”
And, damn it, she’s right. Foggy curses under his breath. “Fine,” he says, standing up and pulling out his drawers, packing files and folders into his bag. “Fine.” He pauses, then looks up at her and her humorless smile. “Why are you doing this?” he asks. “We barely knew each other. We didn’t even like each other that much.”
The smile fades, and Elektra breathes out, hands reaching up to grip her forearms. “He would’ve wanted to protect you,” she says, and he doesn’t have to ask who she’s talking about. They both know it’s Matt, his ghost hanging over the both of them, always.
Matt’s first priority would’ve been getting him and Karen out of the line of fire.
Even if it meant pushing them out himself.
“You talked to Karen already?” Foggy says, because dwelling on Matt right now is not going to do him and his caseload any favors.
“I’m going to drop by the Bulletin after this,” Elektra says. “Why, do you want me to tell her anything?”
“Just to check up on the joint before she gets to the precinct,” says Foggy. “Besides that, nothing.” He hesitates, and says, “Be careful, Elektra.”
Elektra blinks at him, and for perhaps the first time since she saved his life in a dark and damp alleyway, smiles genuinely at him. “I always am,” she says.
--
Karen calls him a few minutes after he makes it to the station, and says, “You’re going to want to see this.”
“Is it a death threat?” says Foggy. “Because once you’ve seen one you’ve seen pretty much all of them.”
“No,” says Karen, and—she sounds like she’s been crying, a little. “No, Foggy, this is—this is good news. Sort of. But I can’t—I can’t tell you about it over the phone. Can you come by the office?”
Foggy frowns at his phone for a moment, but says, “Well, sure. I’ll tell them I forgot a few files that I really need.” He shifts his grip a little, presses his phone against his ear with his shoulder as he hoists his bag back up onto his other shoulder. “Can you at least give me a hint as to what I’ll find when I get there?”
Karen says, “I—I’m not sure how to describe it. But when you do get here,” she takes a deep breath, then breathes out, “please, remember: it’s real and you’re not dreaming.”
--
Karen opens the door a fraction when he gets there, and says, “Don’t shout.”
“Why would I shout?” says Foggy. “Karen, come on, end the suspense here. What did you find?” He pauses, then says, “Please tell me it’s not Kirsten’s secret stash of romance novels.”
“It is definitely not that,” says Karen, “and I already know where that is.” She breathes out and says, “No, this is—I think it’s best if you see for yourself. I’m not sure I believe it myself either.”
“I would,” says Foggy, “if you let me see.”
“Who’s there?” someone calls from the couch. Someone who sounds—weirdly like Matt. But that can’t be.
Karen steps aside, opens the door wider to let Foggy in.
When he steps inside, there’s a ghost in red and black sitting on the couch.
“What,” says Foggy, stunned, “the fuck.”
Matt Murdock—dead Matt Murdock—cocks his head in Foggy’s direction, draws his black cloak tighter around himself. And it’s a cloak, with an actual hood, and underneath Foggy can see something red, he isn’t sure what.
—there’s a sword leaning against the couch. There are daggers on the desk.
“What the fuck,” says Foggy, again.
“You’re her friend?” says Matt, and it sinks into Foggy’s thick skull just then that he’s not-watching him with the wariness of someone who’s not sure who to trust.
“How are you not dead?” says Foggy, remaining admirably calm despite the fact that his dead best friend, who he mourned, is sitting on his couch not-staring at him like he doesn’t recognize him. “How?”
“Long story,” says Matt.
“Then make it short!”
“Don’t,” says Karen. “Foggy, I know you want answers—”
“I buried him!” says Foggy.
Matt flinches away, and says, “I—knew you?”
“Yes!” says Foggy, whipping around to him. “You know me! We were roommates in college, you were my partner, you were my best friend, you’re dead.” His voice breaks, on the last phrase.
Matt tilts his head up, eyes fixing on a point near Foggy’s face. “I was,” he says. “The Hand brought me back.”
fill. role reversal au: elektra as a defender, matt as an assassin (2/2)
(Anonymous) 2017-12-08 02:55 am (UTC)(link)“I’m not sure they even have hearts,” says Matt, and that—that startles a laugh out of him, and Karen as well. “No, they wanted the Black Sky. They got me, instead—they wanted to lure her in, I think. Using me.”
“Black what?” says Foggy.
“Her?” says Karen.
Matt just cocks his head to the side. “She didn’t tell you?” he asks, which, no shit, no one ever tells Foggy anything. “The woman with the sai. The Black Sky.”
“Elektra?” says Karen. “No, she didn’t tell either of us.”
“It’s nothing new,” says Foggy.
Matt’s brow wrinkles up, his face scrunching up like he’s just smelled something bad. “She probably wanted to keep you both safe,” he reasons. “And here I am, dragging you further in.”
“We are here by choice,” Karen stresses.
“You called me out here without telling me what I was going to find,” Foggy points out. “Also, why did you call me out here, anyway? I mean, I’m glad that for once someone’s keeping me in the loop, but, uh. What am I supposed to do here?”
Karen jabs a finger into Foggy’s chest and says, “You’re going to be his lawyer.”
“What,” says Foggy.
“What,” says Matt, at the same time.
“He’s a witness,” says Karen.
“You can’t possibly think you can take down an ancient organization with its claws in everything using the legal system,” says Matt, bleakly. “They’ll find a way out. They always do.”
“An ancient organization like that knows how to delegate, though,” says Karen. “Maybe we can’t take them down completely. Fine. But we can destabilize their powerbase somehow by taking down key figures, screw up their operations—”
“—with information from a witness on the inside,” Foggy completes. He can see the logic that Karen’s working with, and he could almost approve. Almost. “Matt?” he says.
Matt huffs out a breath. “That’s doable,” he says, curling up on the couch and drawing the cloak tighter around him. Like this, he looks less like a ghost and more like the Matt that Foggy had known. Had buried. “Risky, though. I don’t know, I didn’t—I don’t want to drag you either of you even further into this. I can’t have either of you become targets because of me.”
And there’s the Matt Murdock Foggy knows, hating even the idea of dragging his loved ones into his mess.
“We’re not doing this because we’re dragged into this,” he says. “We’re doing this because, damn it, Matt, we’re friends.”
Present tense.
Matt stares up at him, sheer shock written across his face. Or—well, he stares at Foggy’s cheek, anyway, but the utter surprise on his face breaks Foggy’s heart, more than a little bit. This shouldn’t be a surprise. This should be a given.
“You don’t have to go back,” he says.
Karen kneels down, takes Matt’s hand in hers, the hope in her eyes laid bare for Foggy to see. “We’ll find some way to keep you safe,” she says. “Somehow. Somehow.”
Matt tugs his hand out of hers, his face doing that—that thing, where it scrunches up like he’s overwhelmed and might actually cry. Foggy’s not really sure, his vision’s kind of swimming from the tears right now too.
“I don’t,” Matt starts, then he shakes his head. “I can’t leave. You don’t know the Hand, not like I do. Right now, the safest thing to do is play along with whatever they want—I break away now, they’ll go after you and everyone you love, and everyone they love.”
“They’ve done that,” starts Karen.
“They’ll do more than that,” says Matt. “I want to help, you want me out of the Hand, and the Black Sky seems to want the Hand gone.” He sighs. “Right now, I have more information about the Hand than I frankly know what to do with. I might as well unload somewhere, and you can get it to her and her friends.”
“What about you?” says Foggy.
“There’s stuff I don’t know yet that I plan to find out,” says Matt, eyes darting away and flicking downward. “The easiest way of getting that information would be staying in the Hand—they don’t have any reason to suspect I want to break from them, for now.” He smiles, and it’s a touch sardonic and a little dangerous, like the Matt Foggy buried. “They were thorough.”
Foggy’s not a violent man.
But if he had the chance to punch the Hand right in the face, especially if it was anyone responsible for doing this to Matt—he thinks he might just do it.
“So, okay, you’re going to leak info to us and we’re going to tell Elektra,” he says, instead. “I get that right?”
“Yeah,” says Matt, relaxing.
“Can’t you tell her yourself?”
“She’d try to kill me first,” says Matt.
“What,” says Foggy. “But she loved you! I mean, you two crazy kids used to ditch me all the time in college!”
“What,” says Karen. “You know what, that explains so much. Except the part where Elektra wants you dead.”
Matt cocks his head, and says, “Because I’m part of the Hand,” like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And she’s made it clear she thinks that I’m not—who I was.”
Man, these two crazy kids are fucked up as all hell.
“Not was,” says Karen, with conviction. “Are.”
“Was,” says Matt, simply. “The man you buried, the man I used to be—would he have done the things I’ve done?”
“What things?” Foggy asks, dreading the answer.
Matt tells them.
--
“We have to help him,” says Karen, quietly, after Matt’s fallen back to sleep. It hadn’t been an easy thing to convince him to rest for a little while longer, after everything he’d told them, but somehow they’d managed it. Foggy’s been watching the windows ever since, terrified somehow that some ninja might crash through the windows, or kick their way in through the walls, or—
He hasn’t had the best few hours so far.
“And we will,” he says, peeking through the blinds. “We’ll get him out of there, but—he’s right. Goddammit, he’s right about where he can best help us.”
“We can’t just let him go back to them,” says Karen. “There’s a risk they’ll know.”
“It’s not a risk I want to take, either,” says Foggy, looking back at Matt, sleeping on the sofa. He looks so vulnerable and small, curled up into a ball. He looks like the man Foggy knew back in college, before everything, before Daredevil and the Hand and Matt dying. “But even if we tried to get him to stay here and be safe, how long do you think it’ll be until he does it anyway?”
Karen breathes out, shakes her head. “Dammit,” she murmurs. The answer hangs in the air between them: not long at all. “So what next? What do we do?”
“We go back to the precinct,” says Foggy. “Knight’s probably wondering where we’ve gone. And then we give Elektra the info Matt gave us. Hopefully she won’t think it’s unreliable and go after Matt, but just in case—”
“Witness protection,” says Karen, sardonic.
Foggy nods, then looks back out the window again, trying not to jump at every shifting shadow he spies.
He glances at Karen again, sees her crossing the room to kneel down and brush Matt’s hair back from his face. He makes a soft little noise.
It sounds like Elektra’s name.
Re: fill. role reversal au: elektra as a defender, matt as an assassin (2/2)
(Anonymous) 2021-12-26 03:52 pm (UTC)(link)I would love to continue this because I absolutely adore this prompt but I’m not all that good of a writer