#Father Lantom

[marvellousgifs]

Matt Murdock in THE DEFENDERS (2017) | 1.01 - The H Word

Uh, bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been... uh, three days since my last confession. I lied to someone. Someone I love. She asked me if I, uh, miss the life. The other life that I led. And I told her I didn't. Acknowledging a lie is often the best path to finding the truth, son. A lie this this one is often a sign of indecision. A sign that your mind and your soul are not yet aligned. Well, I'm trying very hard to ignore my soul. "The Lord sees not as man sees. Man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart." If you could elaborate, Father. Ignoring doesn't change anything, Matthew. God knows your heart. Let him in so he can help. Even if that heart is damaged? Especially if it's damaged. Matthew, I want to talk frankly. Please. This other life you led... is your heart still with it or is your heart with the one who walked through it by your side? Elektra. Yeah. I do miss her. But I know that the things she brought out of me were wrong. From what you've told me about her, I think she'd be happy about how well you're doing. Maybe. Or maybe she'd tell me I'm abandoning that life. And with it, her memory. You're not abandoning Elektra. You don't have it in you. What you're doing, we call that moving on. Purgatory is a place for the dead, Matthew, not the living. There's nothing wrong with letting people go. She'll find her peace. I pray you find yours as well.

[a-really-good-lawyer-abandoned]

Hang in there Paul

[archivedjuice]

marvel's daredevil 1.09 | speak of the devil

[hellscupboards]

Some Daredevil Valentine's Cards Pt 2 (ID in Alt) | part one

[haunt4haunt]

daredevil / angels in america

[1rsoldiersince2012]

Bound by Law (Matt Murdock x reader)

Words: 2584 (chapter 22)

Summary:

You and Matt met in the courtroom. Now, you may think that Matt was a knight in shining armour and defended you in the name of all United States laws, but that was not the case. Matt was totally destroying your client, and you wanted to tear him into pieces right then and right there, because with Murdock as your rival, your head is on the firm's plate with each case. Did Matt care? No, he only cared about bringing justice, he was a human-machine, driven by the need to bring righteousness no matter the cost. Or was he just that? What happens when you get involved in Fisk's business and Daredevil's lies against your will?

UPDATES EVERY other FRIDAY ?

Find my other accounts on ao3 and wattpad!

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1rSoldierSince2012

wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/1rsoldierSince2012

22. In the Blood

While you were lying in bed with a book, trying to distract yourself from what happened earlier, so painfully aware of Robert's presence next door, Matt found himself engaging in another conflict with the Russians. As well as has Wesley.

Although Fisk's business has been going on quite well recently, the Russians became a problem and Wesley's headache yet again. Simply because they were unable to contain the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. Wesley confidently strides into the taxi workshop, looking up and down at the two men in the middle of the garage. "Oof, those look like they hurt." He mutters with no emotions of compassion or mercy. Only sheer disappointment.

"I've had worse." Anatoly answers with a thick Russian accent, making Wesley's ears bleed. Oh, how much he hated working with them, yet he had to admit that the Russians were a cheap brute force, but... They started slipping too much recently.

"I know how much your people delight in extolling the amount of pain they can endure, but maybe next time you could try ducking? Leland's finalized the paperwork. Prohaszka's holdings in Kitchen Cab have been acquired and transferred via third party to Veles Taxi. Your distribution infrastructure just doubled." Wesley spills quickly, maintaining the same relaxed tone the whole time. Tone that was intimidating everyone.

"Tell your employer we are grateful." Anatoly takes the papers from Wesley's hands and slips through some pages.

"Don't think he really cares at the moment. You were light again this week." Wesley looks at the two men in front of him, beat to a pulp, yet still cocky.

"There was a complication." Vladimir intervenes, saving Anatoly's ass from the deadly stare.

"One you assured us you were addressing." Wesley rolls his eyes slightly, crossing his arms.

Vladimir hurries to remind Wesley about his brother, "Do you know what he was asking? This fool who laid hands on my brother?"

Wesley refrains from rolling his eyes again, and just wants to get out of this filthy place as soon as possible, "not my concern."

"It should be. He was asking about your employer, by name." Anatoly steps in the chat again.

"All the more reason to settle this. You sneeze, we all catch a cold. Madame Gao and Mr. Nobu have expressed their disappointment." Wesley simply answers, watching how Anatoly's eyes got bigger upon the mentioning of Gao.

"We have not heard of this." Vladimir breaks the short silence.

"Hmm," Wesley hums throatily, "that's because we've been talking behind your back, about how the Russians can't seem to handle one man running around in a mask. I mean, if he had an iron suit or a magic hammer, maybe that would explain why you keep getting your asses handed to you-"

Vladimir starts walking off before the sentence is finished, with Anatoly following him. "We're done here."

"He's weakened your operation." Wesley drops, pushing his glasses up his nose.

Vladimir turns back on his heel and quickly returns to Wesley, trying to prove who's the man of this place by standing close to Wesley. "You think us weak?"

"This isn't personal, Vladimir. It's business. Distribution of Madame Gao's product has been affected, which in turn is causing delays in other ventures. This is not acceptable. Fortunately for all parties, my employer has agreed to help return you to solid footing."

"How?"

"By aiding you in certain duties deemed vital to the continuation of service-" Wesley smirks a little, while Vladimir turns to leave again.

"He wants to take over."

"We value the services you provide, but clearly," Wesley says louder, laughing under his breath, "you need help providing them. We'll all profit nicely under the new structure."

"How nicely?" Anatoly stops Vladimir with one hand.

The men exchange a row of words in Russian, making Wesley sick from the language again, although he regretted now that working with Russians, he had a language barrier. The feeling of being not superior in the situation was crushing to say the least. Vladimir finally turns to look at Wesley, "tell Mr. Fisk-"

"We don't say his name." Wesley cuts right away, instantly annoyed.

"Tell... Mr. Fisk..." Vladimir says again, this time more confidently, "that if he wants a pound of flesh... he can come here and carve it himself."

Wesley exhales through his nose loudly. "This is an offer, not an order. The choice of how we proceed is yours. Talk it over with your brother. We'll be in touch." Turning on his heel, he leaves the garage, returning to the black SUV, where Fisk was already waiting for him.

Vladimir and Anatoly continue arguing in the garage, finally deciding on sneaking into the hospital to get more information from Semyon.  Meanwhile, Wesley closes the doors and immediately takes off his glasses, rubbing his eyes for a moment. Fisk patiently waits for him to say anything, intently following every movement of the man in front of him. Although he was the same man that he knew, there was something different about Wesley today. Something so small and simple that it was not visible to the eye of the cold-blooded maestro in the black suit.

"Anatoly may be the way in. He seems more amenable to the proposition, or at least not quite as...vitriolic as his brother." He finally says, not putting his glasses on yet. 

"Well, confrontations can be expensive. I'd prefer to handle this quietly. How are we on the timeline?" Fisk asks immediately.

"Within a reasonable margin. Assuming we can settle with the Russians quickly."

"We will. One way or another."

"What about the masked idiot?" Wesley clutches his glasses slightly, knowing that the force he applied might be enough for them to break. The fact that The Devil not only ruined their business, but also hurt you, was enough for him to finally snap and punish that idiot himself.

Fisk sighs slightly, "If the brothers can't handle him, I'll find another solution."

Car stops and Fisk immediately grabs the handle, blocking Wesley's arm from doing the same thing. " You stay with the car, I need to attend this alone." Fisk rasps, and gets out, leaving Wesley alone in the backseat, with some idiot behind the wheel.

Fisk has told him about his plans to ask Vanessa out to dinner. Of course, he was happy for his boss, but a little voice at the back of his head was laughing at him at times. Wesley remembered how cowardly he felt today when he kissed your cheek before leaving. That idiot Robert has spoiled everything. Wesley curses under his breath. He didn't even get a chance to pay the bill. Yet, the fact that he managed to kiss your cheek, to get even a little bit of physical contact was both calming and driving him insane. Of course, this was all a part of a big plan, the important dots on a huge map, but he couldn't stop that fire burning with jealously inside of him. When Robert asked you about sleeping at your place, Wesley felt the urge to take out his gun and just blow his brains out. A small, sudden sound snaps Wesley out of the trance that he was in. Looking down into his lap, he notices how he crushed his glasses, and the sharp pieces sticking into his palm made him bleed, proving that just like every other man, he was indeed vulnerable. With no panic evident on his face, only a slight frown, Wesley takes out a handkerchief from his pocket, calmly picking out the shards and wrapping what was left of his glasses into the soft material. The blood kept slowly oozing, yet James didn't hurry to wipe it. Something about that made the situation both poetic and ridiculous. 

Fisk returns rather quickly, not noticing the bloody hand of his most trusted man, and bragging about how successfully the conversation went. Wesley shoots a small, understanding smile, balling his bleeding palm into a tight fist. 

***  

Russians kept Matt busy. In fact, they kept everyone busy, turning themselves into the city's biggest headache in a matter of weeks. After Claire stitched Matt up last night, he got a burner phone for the sake of her safety, and yet the worst has happened again. The phone call that Claire managed to make before she was dragged out of her flat, made Matt feel the fire was catching up with him, thinking that because of his dumb decisions, an innocent woman might not make it till the dawn of the next morning. 

And while Matt goes on another rescue mission, putting criminals into their places, Foggy finds himself in Marci's bed again. Instead of drowning in a pile of case papers, he was drowning in the sea of white, over-perfumed sheets. Over and over again, he told himself that Marci was no good, and yet, he kept coming back to her like a moth keeps flying towards the flame.

Ironically, Matt was the one who encouraged Foggy to move on, and still, Matt himself kept the record of one-night hookups, up until they had a case against you. There was something so sinful, so strong about you that he, as a devoted Christian, was ready to commit that sin. Right now, there was no time to think about you, especially when he was beating the crap out of those Russians, but later, back in Claire's kitchen, when Matt was stitching her up, he felt the need to do anything to protect you from Wesley. Claire, still recovering from the shock, proved to Matt that the city needs protection, the city need him in that stupid mask, and you... You need him in that stupid mask as well. 

*** 

Matt returned home late. From the sounds of the city, he was guessing that it was around 2 AM. Exactly 10 hours until the court. And 7 hours until he sees you again. 6 hours until he goes to church. And 5 hours of actual sleep. If he will even manage to fall asleep. The stress of running around was catching up with him, Matt felt drained, but the emotions of people he saved, especially Claire were still raw, still getting under his skin and tearing his heart apart. How long will he be able to be sponge that takes in all of the pain and all of the emotions from others? When will Matt be able to not only give himself to others, but actually get something in return? Matt sighs loudly and lays on his back. The sheets felt like a thousand needles stabbing his back, but maybe it was because he felt like he was missing a part of himself, like he was living his whole life incomplete.

With only 5 hours of sleep Matt was dressed in his best suit, making his way towards the church. Father Lantom was sitting outside the church, wrapped up in a long black coat. The shy rays of sun illuminated his face, making him look like a saint. "Haven't seen you here in a while."

Matt feels startled, although he knew that Father always somehow saw him, even in the biggest crowd. "Well, I've been busy." Matt sits down next to him and inhales the cold weather, feeling somewhat relaxed when it fills his lungs.

"I know." Father turns to look at Matt, even more tired than he usually was. "The press loves this new mysterious figure."

"I don't think 'loves' is the word to use here, Father." Matt smiles shyly for a moment, but then his lips turn to thin line on their own.

"Love has many meanings, Matt." Father intently watches Matt for any kind of reaction, any twitch of muscles, yet he receives none. "Care to discuss what's on your heart over a cup of latte?"

"Yeah.. Sure." Matt gives up running away from those offers, not wanting to hurt the old man anymore. 

"Finally someone agreed, I've been wanting to try it since they brought the machine here." Father talks along the way, just to keep the mood of conversation going, before Matt returns to his old, quiet self. "You've got court today or do you go to work dressed like that now?"

The question throws Matt off a little, and he grins again. "Like what?"

"Ellegant." Father watches the cup filling up with steaming liquid.

"I threw on the first thing I touched."

"It was with that nicely folded handkerchief as well?" Father Lantom puts the cup in front of Matt and sits down too. Matt doesn't answer, meaning that the quick banter will be put to rest now. "Anything you'd like to say, Matthew?"

"I'd say that I'm a fool but you already knew that." Matt leans over the cup and inhales the sweet aroma, which is oddly so similar to your perfume that the thought makes him shake his head slightly.

"That goes without saying. Maybe you wanna talk about what happened in that fancy lawyer firm?" Father asks as carefully as possible, feeling the need to somehow crack the man in front of him.

"A friend of mine got hurt. That's it."

"Yet the press is saying that you're the one who hurt her."

"It was an accident, and I was an idiot." 

"Why did you go there?" Father presses, wanting to know the truth from Matt himself.

"Because..." I care. He wanted to let it out, to say those words, but something was just stuck in his throat, preventing him from doing so. "I couldn't let an innocent person get involved in a shady business."

"Did you succeed?"

"If by succeed you mean that she got shot, then no."

Father falls silent, thinking over his next words. The look on Matt's face was unreadable, something new and unusual to Lantom. "Does she know about you? The other you."

"No. No one knows. No one will know."

"And what shady business was she getting into?"

Matt scoffs a little, finally taking the cup into his hands, "her boss tried to fake the evidence. Whole case is a mess." Father opens his mouth for another question, but Matt beats him to the answer, "she started working for us yesterday."

"Oh. Now I see why the fancy costume is on display." Father laughs slightly, but gets serious as soon as he notices Matt's furrowed eyebrows. "You care about her, don't you? Enough to risk your identity getting revealed just to save her from bad decisions?"

Matt takes a sip of the drink, taking his time with the answer. But this silence says enough for Father. 

"Matt, you have to-"

"I care about everyone in this city, Father, and last night I risked a woman's life with the Russians. I can't let anyone close to me because they will end up getting hurt." Matt feels like he's back in Claire's apartment, listening to her heart ramming in her chest violently.

"Can't let anyone close to Matt Murdock or close to the Devil of Hell's Kitchen?"

"If they get close to one, the other becomes a threat."

"If it's really like that, Matthew, you've got a problem in... separating them. Don't let the Devil get the upper hand. Find your anchor, someone to keep you to your true self."

"Here I thought you were gonna bring God into the conversation." Matt scoffs again, finishing the latte.

"I'm afraid that God won't be much of a help, you have to sort it out yourself before it's too late. Open up yourself to others, Matthew, don't take away other people's darkness, thinking that it won't affect you too." Father finishes, from the movements of Matt guessing that he'll be soon leaving.

"Yeah, thanks for the drink, Father." Matt gets up with a slight struggle, which earns him a a reproachful look. 

"Don't get lost, child." Father calls one last time before Matt loudly closes the doors of the church. 

[jaberwockkee]

the priest and the dying soldier in the house of the lord

(i am mentally ill)

[n-m-and-p-avocados-at-law]

Me when I saw the filming pics of Matt on that bench with that guy.

[redhatmeg]

Funny thing happened. This whole post about the unfinished father Mulcahy fanfic made me reread some of the Daredevil fics I wrote with father Lantom in them.

And I also remembered how S3 did him so dirty.

[blackeyewhiterose]

An Unkindness of Ravens

Chapter 4, “Professional Courtesy,” on Ao3

Father Lantom returned with his own latte and sat down at the head of the table, equidistant from Matt and Castle. “I hope nobody objects to me staying for the rest of this conversation,” he said. “I think having a disinterested party here would do you both good.”

Matt turned his head toward the sound of the priest’s voice. “I’m sorry, Father, but how are you okay with this? Nothing you’ve ever taught me said God was disinterested when it comes to sin.”

“God is listening to the sinner, and so will I. What is it you would have me do? Exorcize him?”

[archivedjuice]

marvel's daredevil 1.09 | speak of the devil

[hellscupboards]

Father Lantom owns this t-shirt

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

gosh the i-cant-forgive-yet-i-continue-to-miss-us. CLARK is he okay. oh man father lantom what are you going to do. “he wriggles through” HE WOULD! gosh no, every au when the bomb episode happens,,, aaaaghaghh,,, I didn’t,” says the masked man AAAH he needs a bell. CLARK!! aww a clean break matt nooooo

thank you for this chapter!

father lantom was in soooo much pain last chapter. he knew about matt but couldn't tell maggie or jack without violating his religious oaths and he knew about maggie but he can't tell matt without violating his religious oaths so he's stuck heavily implying that people should talk about how they all know each other but this is the one fucking time that maggie's decided not to introduce herself as jack's wife. he's suffering so deeply.

i love clark. he's a very straightforward and good natured guy and I feel like he just sort of goes for things. he's not afraid of rejection. he's very much a "you miss 100% of the shots you don't take" kind of fella. he's fun.

thank you for reading and for coming to talk to me!

[1rsoldiersince2012]

Bound by Law (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Words: 2163 (chapter 23)

Summary:

You and Matt met in the courtroom. Now, you may think that Matt was a knight in shining armour and defended you in the name of all United States laws, but that was not the case. Matt was totally destroying your client, and you wanted to tear him into pieces right then and right there, because with Murdock as your rival, your head is on the firm's plate with each case. Did Matt care? No, he only cared about bringing justice, he was a human-machine, driven by the need to bring righteousness no matter the cost. Or was he just that? What happens when you get involved in Fisk's business and Daredevil's lies against your will?

UPDATES.... Some time??? (I'm super busy and super stressed)

Find my other accounts on ao3 and wattpad!

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1rSoldierSince2012

wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/1rsoldierSince2012

23. Smoking Day

The streets of Hell's Kitchen were too busy for Tuesday morning, and you were cursing the guy in a white Jeep in front of you non-stop for at least 5 minutes, until a familiar figure on the sidewalk caught your attention. Rolling down the window, you didn't think much before loudly calling the person, "Murdock, is that you?"

Matt turns to the left, startled again, and almost hits somebody's ankles with his walking stick. "Y/n?"

"Get in here before I drive off!" You open the passenger door and wait for Matt to get in, holding the traffic behind yourself now.

"How kind of you this early in the morning." Matt gets comfortable, feeling a little overwhelmed by the smells in your car - the cigarettes, car perfume and your own scent, plus the bag of leftover fries that you threw out this morning. 

"Yeah, this early, what were you doing here? As far as I remember, you live on the other side of the city." You say casually, maintaining your focus on the road and that white Jeep.

"Creep." Matt throws back just as casually, but then puts his seatbelt on, "I was in a church."

"Oh, living up to your nickname, I see." 

Matt remains silent on this remark, although on a different day he would've fired something back at you. "What got you so early?"

"I just wanted to grab something from the store." You lie, tightly gripping the wheel. You just wanted to get out of the flat as soon as possible, not standing the thought of being with Robert in the same room for longer than 5 minutes. Because of him, you left without breakfast or coffee. 

"Did you do it already?" Matt asks, visibly concerned about you lying of such a simple thing.

"No, it's... Not that important now." You pass the Jeep and notice a guy talking on the phone. "Ready for the court?"

"As ready as one could be with no real, jury-convincing evidence." Matt laughs lightly, even though his preparation for today's court was ridiculous. 

"I don't know why, but I just feel that we're gonna win." You say plainly, only later taking notice of how you used 'we' with such an ease.

"You know, I feel it too." Matt says, pushing his glasses up his nose. 

In the corner of your eye, you notice a new cut on his hand, and something upsets you. You don't try to keep the conversation going, focusing on the busy road, until you park almost outside Nelson and Murdock. Matt, understandingly, keeps silent until the roar of the engine finally quiets down. Uncomfortably, you clear your throat, "you want to go to the office?"

Matt unbuckles his seatbelt, and turns towards you, "what time is it?"

"Eight. Too early for Foggy to be here." 

"Yeah, you're right."

You reach for the glove compartment and it slightly bumps into Matt's knee. "Sorry," you mutter, quickly taking out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, trying to close the glove compartment but it falls onto Matt's knee again, causing you to drop your lighter somewhere near his shoes. "Fuck-"

"It's okay, I'll take it." Matt steadies your arm that was already reaching for the lighter, and holds it above his knee, next to the still open glove compartment, tapping around his shoe a couple of times, before finally grabbing the thing. "Here." He reluctantly releases your wrist, handing you the lighter.

"That damn thing never closes from the first time," you quickly close the glove compartment and pull back your arm, feeling your cheeks heat up a little. Matt bites a smirk, raising his eyebrows a little over the top of his shades. "Fancy a smoke, Murdock?"

"I... wouldn't say no." 

"I would've kicked you out if you said no." You grin to yourself, putting a cigarette in your mouth and lighting it up, repeating the last action with Matt. The reflection of the flame on his red glasses felt as if you just had a glimpse of what hell looks like. Matt inhales and then blows out some smoke, slightly opening his doors.

Another moment passes by in silence, and only when you feel the tension leave your muscles, and slightly slump in your seat, you finally say, "you know, I came to the conclusion, just now, that I know absolutely nothing about you."

Matt chuckles slightly, finally taking off his glasses, "I could say the same thing."

"Well, there's nothing fascinating about me, while your story is probably twice as interesting as mine would be."

"Oh, why's that?" Matt can't help but smirk.

"Well, for starters, you lived here your whole life, right? Why? What kept you here?" You steal a look at him, taking notice of his unfocused eyes looking into nowhere.

"My blindness." Matt blows out the smoke, turning his head away, "my dad."

"What about your mom?" You ask carefully, watching how Matt's jaw tightens.

"Never knew her."

"Oh." You fall silent again, looking at the cigarette slowly turning into ashes.

"But there's no need to pity me," he throws as casually as possible, yet the change in him is visible.

"That's why you're going to the church?" You blow the smoke out through your nose, feeling the slight stinging in your nostrils. 

"Kind of. What brought you back here? Life in LA wasn't for you?" Matt quickly asks, not liking the way his interrogation was going. The cigarette between his fingers felt weird, yet somehow familiar.

"LA was honestly too much. But I felt like I was needed here, in this God-forbidden city." You chuckle lowly.

"Hey, it's not that bad, is it?" Matt inhales the smoke again, feeling as if it became easier to be alive.

"Depends on which side of the society you are. But the crime rates are high enough to make one go insane." You look at him again, noticing how the early morning sun has illuminated his face. "My dad's words, not mine."

"Did you tell him," Matt quickly shakes his head, but now it was too late to drop the question, "or anyone else about the attack?"

"No. I don't want to worry him with such nonsense."

"You almost got shot, that's not nonsense, y/n." Matt turns back to face you, with a frown on his face.

"Key word - almost." You huff, suddenly feeling a warm, heavy hand on your forearm. 

"Please, just don't say that nothing happened-"

"Nothing did happen, and just-" you look at his bruised knuckles, and close your eyes for a moment. 

"Y/n, what is it?" Matt hears your heartbeat picking up, and a single tear running down your cheek, unnoticed and unfelt, leaving only a tickling sensation on your skin.

"I-" You remember the night you slept with a grazed arm, sweating, tossing and turning in your sleep, feeling like someone was going to break into your apartment and squeeze the life out of your neck, leaving your limp and lifeless body with the deep shade of blue handprints on your neck for your father to find. "Nothing." You smile instead, pulling your hand to yourself. "Not the time to worry you with my things when Melissa's court is coming up."

Matt bites his tongue, feeling like another opportunity to get you to open up slipped away again. He was about to say something, anything, when Foggy surprised him by opening the passenger doors abruptly.

"Morning, colleagues!" Foggy shouts, scaring the crap not only out of you, but of Matt as well. His next words were followed by a loud gasp, "Matty, you're smoking already?"

"Yeah, she's a bad influence on me." Matt chuckles, not lying a bit. After all, lying was a sin. 

"Come on, we have to finally set things straight," Foggy pulls away from your car and loudly takes a deep breath, "I'd say I can already smell the victory but all I smell is this horrendous lung-destroying stink." 

"Foggy-" Matt begins, getting out of the car and dropping the cigarette butt on the ground, "di-"

"Did you bring coffee?" you say, reading Matt's mind, and a stupid grin appears on his lips again.

"I sure did, now let's go, before I start asking more questions about all of this." Foggy quickly waves his hands around your car and turns to cross the road, leaving you as Matt's guide again.

*** 

"She told me yesterday that she'll be here." Foggy whisper-shouts near the entrance to the court, looking around anxiously.

"Did you call her?" You ask, fidgeting with your phone in the pocket of your coat, trying to ease your mind before you light up another cigarette.

"Of course I did. Many times!" Foggy throws his hands in air in a hectic manner.

"Foggy, just calm down, you're worrying about the wrong things now. Karen is a grown woman, we'll get to her after the court." Matt puts a hand on Foggy's shoulder, feeling how tense he is. 

"Maybe she's just sick, focus on winning the case." You say, looking at the two men in front of you - Foggy, who has been acting like he was sitting on a row of needles since morning, and Matt, unusually quiet, and... Observing. At any chance he got, he was trying to stay close to you, and that made you nervous. 

"Right, right, case now, Karen later." Foggy mumbles under his breath, slipping away from Matt's heavy hand. 

"Mr Murdock, Mr Nelson." Annie appears next to you, and you earn a suspicious look from her.

"Annie, about time we head in." Foggy says, smiling, yet his eyes told that he was scared. 

"You sure you're not going?" Matt asks you one last time, feeling that if you sat next to him, since Karen bailed, he'd feel more confident in winning.

"No, good luck." You pat his shoulder, as a way to control yourself from doing something else. Like kissing him. "I'll be back in the office in case anyone comes for advice." 

"Sure, goodbye." Matt says, savouring your touch, and listens to your heels clicking on the concrete.

"Shall we go?" Annie asks cautiously, eyeing Matt after this bit of conversation.

"Yes, trust us, we're going to win." Foggy guides Annie inside, keeping Matt on track with his elbow as usual.

*** 

Karen was busy trying to convince Urich to expose Union Allied and their lies. She didn't feel guilty about leaving Matt and Foggy, because for her, it was more important to catch her previous workplace in their web of lies. She also didn't feel guilty because you were there in the court. Karen, on any other day would be dropping everything just to go with Matt and Foggy. Well, especially Matt. She couldn't lie to herself and deny that he was an attractive man, full of mysteries and secrets that just waited to be unveiled by her. He was an attractive man and she was attracted to him on so many levels, that if he asked her to marry him, she would say yes without any doubts. 

Yes, that was her problem. Although not the biggest one at the time. Her biggest problem was Union Allied that was eating her brains at night, disturbing her thoughts and not letting her fall asleep easily. The feeling of hope was still alive inside of her, driving her crazy and desperate. 

So desperate that couple of hours later she found herself sitting in the auction, buying an old printer for the biggest price ever, hoping to find something useful for the last time.

*** 

Foggy and Matt returned almost before the work hours were finished, both laughing and nudging each other. "Uh, did something happen?" Foggy asks, still teasingly, but the look on your face said more than words could.

"What? What is it?" Matt frowns, quickly reading the room, although no one, beside you has been here today.

"Good news - I found Karen. Bad news - we're 3 thousand more in debt." You say, taking a look at Karen's computer, where the letter of her today's purchase was sent.

"What? How?" Foggy crosses the room and looks at the screen over your shoulder, quickly reading the letter. "Fax, printer, copier, conference phones? What?" Foggy reads the letter again, not believing his eyes.

"What's happening, y/n?" Matt comes next to the table and leans on it.

"Karen bought them from the auction, the equipment will be soon here." You sigh, leaning back in the chair.

"What was she thinking?" Matt asks in disbelief, feeling how the happiness abandoned him again. 

"And they're used. Half of this crap probably won't even work." You scoff, not even hiding how disappointed you felt. After all, your plan was to buy a new fully-functioning printer next week. Oh well.

"Okay, let's just wait for Karen tomorrow and listen to what she has to say." Foggy pulls away from the computer, leaving you and Matt facing each other. "Can we refuse to take them? Just in case?" He asks, slightly pacing around.

"We can throw them straight with trash, but we still have to pay for it." You answer briskly, feeling the urge to smoke again. 

"Well... Shit." Foggy sighs loudly, slumping into the nearby chair.

"Yeah, indeed." Matt bows his head as well. The previous cheerful mood, all gone in an instant.  

[1988-fiend]

One way or another, someone in that confessional is saying this; like “OMG not this guy again” (even if it’s Matt about himself) 🤣🤣🤣

genuinely cannot express how funny daredevil is. matt defends people for high level felonies and then goes out and commits those same felonies and gets mad at frank for committing a different set of felonies. he goes to church and is like “father i committed a felony. i’m sorry :( i am gonna do it again tho :/” and the priest SHOULD be like “what the fuck. you know that’s a crime right. and your voice isn’t unrecognizable. it’s the middle of the day and this is a small church. matt get back here. matt. matt.” except that doesn’t happen and the priest just asks if he wants coffee. it’s hilarious.

[archivedjuice]

marvel's daredevil — 1.11