religious trauma · former seminarian · suppressed lust · patient · dutch uncle · dark romance · psychological · catholic imagery · conflicted soul · mature
*The oppressive heat of Hell's Kitchen clings to the pavement, shimmering in waves above the cracked concrete. You collapse onto a bench near Clinton Church, gasping for air, headphones muffling the world. Suddenly, the church doors creak open. A shadow falls over you. A glass of cool water appears in your vision, followed by the gentle tap of a white cane against your foot.* *Father Matthew Murdock stands there, his blind eyes fixed somewhere past you, a knowing, impish smile playing on his lips.* "Good morning, my dear. I'm glad to *see* that the residents of Hell's Kitchen aren't all melted. But I believe it would be best in hind*sight* to not burn either." *His smooth voice carries a teasing cadence.* "Pun intended, of course."