The Seven Deadly
Matthew Murdock x y/n
Summary: This man is unwell but eventually finds peace (sorta).
TW: violence and religious trauma
______________________________________________________________
Matthew hadn’t seen the stream of light since the day of penance.
In fact, it was the last thing he saw. The radiance of God blessed him one last time as his sight dipped into the depths of the abyss for eternity. With this, he felt a different light spark in his chest, one coated with sin. This abomination grew with each breath he drew.
Matthew felt alone; hell, he was alone. No gift came without a price, and he paid it due with each passing day. These hardships tore him further from the one above, and so came the deadly seven from down below.
If only God watched as the world fell to pieces, then who better to fix his mess than the Devil of Hell’s kitchen. With each victory, pride walked all over Matthew. God believed him to be poor in faith, so why use his given alms under the Father’s name?
“Father, You hate pride, so deliver me from it.”
With the immoral doors swung open, six more sins pranced their way into Matthew’s life. Greed fed his need for justice, excusing the wrath inflicted upon others. The guilt gnawing at his rib cage, desperate to sink its teeth into his heart, was kept at bay courtesy of gluttony. This desire drove him to the bars each night, drinking away any doubts or thoughts of being a deist. His covetous gaze was empty in sight but full of lust as the voices of flirtatious women tried to lure him away. Yet, it was envy that kept him isolated as he was certain their tales of success and blessings were not a tactic to get him in bed but God’s way of lessening Matthews’ excellence. These pent-up feelings led to his lack of time and sloth attitude when it came to attending mass. There was no need if all was to be repelled by his lack of love.
Yet, that was then, and this is now.
The morning light streamed into Matthew’s bedroom, never stirring him but she who lay beside him.
Her being, her soul, one too pure to stand trial next to his own tainted, damaged soul. It was she who found him bleeding and on his knees after his fall from grace. The guilt had finally chewed through his bone, reaching and devouring the sins from his body, but in its wake, it left a gaping cavity in his chest.
At first, Matthew attempted to atone for his mistakes the catholic way. He began attending mass once more, often facing his wrongdoings in confession. When that no longer suffices for his needs, Matthew turned to the seven heavenly virtues.
As time passed, Matthew dedicated himself to such holy principles. He truly tried to set a righteous path, but each attempt left the echo of his grandmother’s voice in his head.
“Be careful of the Murdock boys. They got the Devil in them.”
So he never atoned for past sins, but sin no more he did. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen was not to be worshiped or even recognized, for that matter. All he wanted was to go unnoticed, fighting for all that God created in his name.
First, he would need to seek forgiveness for the pain he would inevitably inflict.
Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name;
Matthew, hands wrapped with rope and clothes deeper than darkness, perched on a roof. He listened to the city below, the solemn sounds of Hell’s kitchen.
Thy kingdom come; thy will be done; on earth as it is in heaven.
A cry for help and a pleading prayer was all the Devil needed. It was he who was to save God’s nascency.
Give us this day our daily bread.
Bone crunched beneath his very own, shifting and rubbing until the tension in his chest released. Blood spilled, running down smooth skin, rich and thick with life.
And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.
Teeth seized with force, the root stringing with gum and blood as it fell to the asphalt. Pulp seeped from the abomination’s mouth, coating the bastard’s hands. He felt the sticky warmth run down his forearms and smiled.
And lead us not into temptation;
Now, all that stood was a whimpering girl clutching a rosary to her chest. He heard the beads slide over her fingers as she muttered the prayer over and over.
He had instilled a deep sense of fear in whoever was praying in his presence.
But deliver us from evil.
For it was the Devil’s job to do so.
Amen.
But when the red suit slipped off, so did the title. Instead, Matthew was a simple lawyer with the dying urge for justice.
That’s how they met.
Their meeting had no dramatics but a coffee stain in a mundane cafe. She bumped into the blind lawyer, dumping the remains of her coffee all over the front of his white button-up.
She apologized repeatedly, Matt hearing the sincerity in her heart’s rhythm, and offered to pay for his drink. He declined, but she insisted until they stood side by side in line to order.
From that moment, Matthew found himself wandering to the same cafe around the time of their first meeting in hopes of running into her, and he did. This continued for ages, both acting as if running into each other was a coincidence.
Then, one day, it became more, and now Matthew sleeps more soundly than ever.
Y/N watched as his chest rose, and she couldn’t help but feel serene bliss with each breath he drew.
Devil or not, he was hers. All of him.
“It’s rude to stare at a blind man.”
The sudden presence of his voice startled her into reality, finally seeing his open eyes staring into the distance.
She was sure he had been awake much longer than he let on. She could just imagine him, eyes still closed, listening to her change in the breath that came from the thought of him.
Warmth rose to her cheeks at just the thought of this. Even after all these years, she still felt embarrassed when Matthew saw right through her, reading her emotions without even uttering a word.
She groaned, moving her elbow that previously propped up her body above his, and fell into the bed sheets, hiding her face.
This was a position of embarrassment, but to Matthew, it quickly became a place of worship. Y/N’s head bowed, neck craned into the velvet silk of his sheets. She was a concrete angel patiently waiting for his penance, unaware of the evil acts he would commit under her name if her stone were to split.
This moment, her presence, somehow buried his catholic guilt in places not even he could find.
The Bible says many things about love, and he used to believe undying adoration would cure him of his sins, yet a single verse came to Matthew’s mind.
“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres” (1 Corinthians 13:4–7 NIV).
And with the disappearance of his moral culpability came the Devil’s judgment.
Love is sacrifice, and he would willingly sacrifice all deemed just under the lord’s eyes for her.
Amen.

















