#daredevil season 3 is everything

[connecting-the-stars]

But In the End, We Stay the Same

Matt, Fisk, and Frank:

Spoilers for DDBA ep 4

Matt walking through an entirely different apartment. Fisk refusing to dawn his white suit. And Frank? Frank is setup in a filthy, half-haphazardly thrown together base of operations that is a striking mirror to the first base we see him in from Netflix Daredevil season 2.

Character introductions really set the tone for where their arcs may take them. Very interesting how they have painted each of these characters this season.

Of course, I am not blind to the criticism and where the cracks show from the creative overhaul, but I already viewed the show coming in as… well different. A “new era” both due to the gap in time since we’ve seen these wonderful characters, in real life and in universe, and due to Disney’s influence. I’m not one to focus a lot on time/age but the era when DD season one premiered was a year after Captain America: Winter soldier. This was years before Endgame and the Global Pandemic, the impact of such events are felt in the fictional universe and real world. I am a true believer in rewatch value from my multiple rewatches of Netflix’s Daredevil, but I also acknowledge that there will be elements lost, left in that era of film making and studio management. The colors and the certain level of grim are noticeably absent, when you see characters fall through several floors and they cough up dust/debris. The certain spark found in much of the dialogue of season 1 really is incredibly difficult to replicate.

Despite the places where “season 4” falls short, I can absolutely appreciate the dedication of the actors and actresses, returning and new. While I am comforted and reassured by Karen’s confirmed involvement in season 2, I appreciate Kristin’s and Cherry’s performances as they bar Matt into this new… stage of his life. Of being a full time lawyer and keeping his fists mostly unstained. Fisk’s new environment is half hilarious and half ominous as ever. Watching him stumble through politics and its niceties, and his uneasy speeches are relatively unexplored in Netflix’s series, forced into throne he has to keep his best face on for, rather than crushing skulls. Compared to his handful of appearances in the public being executed in precise manner that always had an end goal, for example, provoking Matt after the murder of Ms. Cardenas. Furthermore, with Vanessa’s distance and unfamiliar distrust. I am eagerly looking forward to Fisk’s manipulation in his mayorship as well as Vanessa’s standing in her business with her ever loving husband. The side characters playing off Fisk, have been given parts that challenge Fisk into different ways, which is much appreciated as he navigates being a truly public political figure.

Matt standing dead eyed in front of his window, right after the reshoot with Foggy’s death. Man, knew something was different. Like are you not crashing out and living out of a basement rn because….? I know that he only received medical attention after the finale of Defenders because he was in a Coma, how is the King of Guilt, Self Destructive Murdock not crawling out of dumpsters again? (Crit: where is queen of sass Sister Maggie?)

But it is fascinating watching this Matt Murdock listen to a nice record player and cook his own meals and walk like he isn’t living in the Bad Ending timeline. The quiet despair washing over him every time he reaches for Foggy’s prayer card. My dread as I realize he takes a piece of Foggy with him everywhere. The idea that Matt has lost faith in Daredevil, this utter stab to the heart proof that he Failed as daredevil, that he was not enough to save his best friend. Every which way you look at Matt and Foggy’s relationship, they are each other’s person. College, first internship, first official business. Matt of course sees this as his fault, that guilt clinging to him like a bad cold. Eats him (in the words of Castle), tears him up to the point he refuses to allow himself to enter a church. The sermon mention a person’s worthiness. Point blank. The fact that he no longer lives in Hell’s Kitchen is major flag of Distress (avoiding Sister Maggie who could talk at least some sense, some kindness to him, the absence of the church he visited so often in the Netflix show). Thus, refusing consolation of faith, of worthiness to be daredevil, Matt clutches twice as hard as ever to the Judicial system. To the part of his life and faith he shared with Foggy, where they promised each other they would do good. The abrupt introduction of Cherry and Kristin apparently filling said places of Karen and Foggy by Matt’s side is jarring as much as it is telling. While Kristin is a comic book character brought into this series, the knowledge of her and connection built with her so far is minimal, when set besides how much of Karen’s development we saw in season 1 of Netflix series. Similar to Cherry’s role being a mix of Ben Uriah and “Foggy” in essence. (I say very lightly. No one will compare to our Foggy.) Cherry’s reminders to Matt of the reality of the system and praising his efforts of being a Good Lawyer, mirroring in a way to Foggy’s constant mission to ground Matt when his head is in his ass. Heather also being pulled from the comics is quite interesting as I had no thoughts of who would be Matt’s love interest, though her being wedged between Vanessa, Fisk, and possibly Muse is not a good sign for her. New apartment, new firm, new co-workers but he cannot outrun grief. It will catch him.

(I know the lack of Karen is mostly due to the overhaul, but the fact that he does not have her to rely on currently also pushes this unresolved/unaddressed grief. The one person who also endured losing Foggy)

The time-skip is certianly something I’m intrigued by. Where it plays in the current story, and the pieces of Matt and Karen’s grief that are unexplored. Wonder if it had been inserted due to the creative overhaul?

Fisk and Matt’s parallel stories this session have been done quite well. While there was a particular balance the Netflix series formed for telling both their stories, I find giving more time to Fisk’s arc strengthens how well these characters are as narrative foils of each other. Fisk arriving this season through a slow flip of the camera, setting the city on its head and picking through a meager breakfast and his tense reunion with Vanessa, while Matt ghosts around his apartment before reaching for Foggy’s prayer card to leave. Both characters are damaged, pieces of themselves lost. While I have not watched Echo, the psychological damage done to Fisk appears to have followed him into Born Again. His confidence seemed to be shaken and his lack of support from Vanessa further pushes him towards stress. Matt facing Bullseye without Karen beforehand, the brief strained conversation with Karen afterwards. While Kristin does tell the audience that Matt needs someone in his life, that he needs a win, it is clearly seen how destitute he is when Fisk announces his mayoral campaign and he sits idle as his food burns behind him. Both Fisk and Matt turning to different ways to get by, to proceed to their goals, by refusing their “darker halves.”

This refusal to indulge in a part of who they are will double the pressure, suffocating until they can no longer stand it. Matt faced with the consequences of revealing Hector’s vigilante identity and the injustice of his murder, of being forced to face the grief and righteous anger of his niece. “No one will do anything about it!” As well as his extremely emotionally intense encounter with Frank. Fisk squaring away first steps of many in political action and faced against the failure of Daniel, then pecking through yet another modest meal. That is until episode 4’s reveal. Indulging in that carb heavy and seasoning rich meal for a king, paired swimmingly with a tortured soul’s pleas. That power, that desire for absolute authority, never truly left Fisk. Most likely never will. Then Matt scaling the roof’s ladder to his pristine collection of cowls, hand already reaching for his billy club. Their darker halves never left them, refused and placated for a time, but never not in the corner waiting for them.

Frank. Haha. Frank is great, let him take a few verbal swings at the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen and he can work out more than his therapist girlfriend. Matt really is not coping, not processing. Cannot tell most people in his life everything, why he feels so responsible for the death of Foggy, for failing him. Best keep his name out of his mouth, because it’s not about him, right? Frank sitting in this grief of losing people who meant Everything to him, and recognizing that pain and stifled rage in Matt. When he retaliates, apologies and curses falling immediately afterwards, Frank does not accept it. Knows that his Darker Half is apart of him, is apart of his grief and pain. Being Daredevil, that righteousness and ruthlessness fueled him. Losing his dad to the criminal underground that got away unscathed, that injustice and lack of closure. Acting as that immovable object to villains unstoppable force. If it’s him or these innocent people behind him? Matt’s stepping to the plate everytime. Even when he attempted, he prioritized saving the victims. Frank is taking out people he deems worthy of the death penalty, Frank is “by any means necessary.” Frank’s grief, the Punisher is a part of him, of course he is going to see Matt’s grief as part of Daredevil. “You lose him. Didn’t you red? You hear him don’t you?”

Frank started out as a corpse on mission for vengeance. He got the people who took his family. He spends his efforts to end the threats permanently. Startling similar to how we first met him.

Matt and Fisk have denied themselves from fully indulging, allowing themselves to lean into their Darker Halves. However, after the events of episode 4, that is clearly going to change. I hope it does in the most explosive way possible.

All of this started from listening to Mother Mother’s - Try to Change

[starkholme]

Oh but the amazing multi-talented tall blonde with a dead brother also has my heart

[smollkittykat]

When i tell you i think about this EVERY GODDAMM DAY

Daredevil: Born Again S1.E8 "Isle of Joy"

[marvel-spidey]

Safe and Sound

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3.2k

Summary: After a difficult night on patrol, Matt comes back home feeling like he can't do it alone. Luckily, you're there to remind him that he doesn't have to. Inspired by the song "Safe and Sound", by Taylor Swift. You can listen to it here.

Warnings: Mentions of a mild panic attack. Besides that, just a lot of comfort <3

A/n: I've been rewatching Daredevil season 2 and this fic was created out of the pure and irrational urge that I have to protect and comfort this man at all costs. Also, this is my first time writing for Matt. Enjoy! - - - -

New York City felt different that night. Noisier. Louder. Matt sensed it the moment he went outside the rooftop exit of his apartment. Sirens wailed in the distance, coming from every direction, their urgency bleeding into the restless city. Screams, footsteps quickly pounding against the pavement. The sounds echoed off the buildings, rattling through the streets like a warning, setting him on edge before he even reached the ground.

He knew the city would need him that night. Nights like these reminded him why he did what he did, why he had to leave you behind, even though it crushed him every time. He knew you always waited up for him, no matter how many times he begged you not to. He knew you couldn’t sleep until he came back, because you worried, not just if he’d return in one piece, but if he’d return at all.

He hated the nights he came back hurt, knowing how scared you got at the sight of his bloody suit or the open cuts on his skin. He could always hear the trembling in your hands when you stitched him up, even though you tried so hard to hide it behind a reassuring smile. But he was so proud of you. You were getting good at this. And more than anything, he was grateful. Grateful that you were there every night, waiting for him. Grateful that, no matter how brutal the city was, he had a home to return to.

He went out that night, already anxious to return. To your touch, to your scent, to your voice, the few things that always brought him back when everything became too overwhelming.

You watched him disappear through the little upstairs window, whispering a silent prayer to whatever God was listening to bring him back safe. You did it every night.

Pulling your blanket up to your neck, you adjusted yourself on the couch and put on an episode of Friends, hoping it would distract you from the worry. It usually worked. When you started to doze off, you got up to make yourself a cup of tea, a way to keep your body moving before sleep fully took over. Some nights, it was exhausting trying to stay awake. But you did it anyway. Because you wanted Matt to know that when he came home, there was someone to clean his bruises, to stitch his cuts, to help him out of the suit when his body was too sore to do it himself.

After two cups of chamomile tea, countless Candy Crush matches and several Friends episodes, you were startled by the sound of heavy footsteps coming from the upstairs area of the apartment. You let out a quiet sigh, relieved that at least he was back. You shifted your body into a sitting position, ready to examine his every movement and assess how bad the damage was tonight. 

You watched Matt come down the stairs in silence, his red suit reflecting the purple glow of the obnoxious billboard outside. You waited for the usual “I’m back, sweetheart” he always said to you, but tonight, there was nothing. Only the sound of his boots against the floor. You noticed that his head hung slightly low, shoulders tense, plump lips pressed into a firm line. Even with his helmet on, you could still see it, the tension in his face, the weight he carried.

Something was wrong.

He muttered a low “I’m back, you can go to sleep”, offering you a forced smile before crossing the living room and heading straight to the bathroom. He usually showered right after patrol, but tonight, your gut told you to follow him.

You slowly got up from the couch and made your way to the bathroom, bracing yourself for whatever you might have to deal with. You just hoped he wasn’t seriously injured and trying to play it off like it was nothing, because that wouldn’t be the first time.

Standing in the doorway, you quietly observed Matt in the dark bathroom. Only a faint neon light seeping through the small window. He stood at the sink, both arms braced against the counter, head hanging low. His breaths were deeper than usual, like he was trying to calm himself down. He was still in full gear, the red uniform clinging to his tired body. 

“Matt”, you said softly, careful not to startle him. “Is everything alright, honey?”

He took a slow, deep breath, exhaling through his mouth before answering.

"Yes, sweetie," he replied, offering you another half-smile. "I'm okay. I'm just…" he paused, gripping the sink harder. "The city was so loud tonight. So many people needed help, and I- I couldn’t get to everyone. I couldn’t-"

You sensed his anxiety and immediately stepped into the bathroom, placing a gentle hand on the exposed part of his face, in an attempt to ground him. You had seen this before. He was overwhelmed and overstimulated, both by his heightened senses and his emotions.

"Hey, how about we take that suit off?" you suggested, gently guiding his face toward yours. "You'll be more comfortable." Slowly, you lifted the helmet from his head, feeling the heat of his skin, his body still in panic mode.

His hair was a mess, and you smiled, hoping to lighten the mood. Leaning in, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, the faint scratch of his stubble against your lips.

"There we go," you whispered as you pulled away. "Much better, isn’t it?"

He closed his eyes and took a breath again, unconsciously relaxing under your touch.

You helped him out of his boots and unzipped the rest of the suit until he was left in just his black boxers. Tossing the uniform onto the bathroom floor, you noticed his breathing was still heavier than usual.

You took the opportunity and scanned his body, looking for any possible injuries. “Are you hurt?” you calmly asked him, worried if there was something you were not seeing.

"Not tonight," he replied, lifting his right hand to gently cup your face. You realized he didn’t want to talk, not right now. He just needed to feel you, feel your warmth and your skin, something real to ground himself.

You kissed the palm of his hand gently, trying to give him the physical comfort he needed right now. You took his other hand and placed it on your heart,  knowing he was probably already focusing on its rhythm anyways. He always told you he liked listening to your heartbeat, that the steady sound calmed him like nothing else.

“It’s okay, Matt. You’re here, you’re home” you murmured, hoping to help his body understand that whatever had happened out there was over now. His palm was warm against your chest, and you placed your hand over his. You watched as he closed his eyes again, trying to shut out the noise, both outside and inside his head.

"Is my heart beating fast or slow?" you asked, using the familiar tactic of simple questions to help pull him away from his anxiety.

“Slow”, he answered, with his usually velvety voice.

"Can you feel how warm my skin is?"

"Warm... and soft. As usual," he said, his large hand grazing your collarbone before trailing up to your neck. His sweet comment made you smile.

You took a small step closer, lifting your hand to trace the shape of his nose. With your index finger, you touched his forehead, then slowly ran it down the bridge of his nose until you reached the tip. You always did this when he couldn’t sleep, or when you just wanted him to feel relaxed. Now, you hoped the familiar gesture would help him relax enough to talk. As much as he seemed a little calmer, you still needed to know, what had happened tonight? What had left him so overwhelmed?

"Do you feel better?" you asked softly, still tracing his nose before slipping your arms around his neck.

"A little, yes. Thank you, sweetheart," he murmured, his hands settling gently on your waist.

"Did something happen tonight? You don’t have to go into details, but you know I can’t help but worry about you out there."

You recalled what he had said moments ago, how the city had been especially loud, with too many cries for help at once, and how he hadn’t been able to answer them all. You could already guess he was drowning in guilt, as usual, but you needed to make sure there wasn’t something more.

He directed his gaze somewhere close to your chin, taking a few moments before answering, trying to gather his thoughts into something that would make at least a little sense to you.

You placed a gentle hand on the nape of his neck, fingers threading through his soft hair, a silent reassurance that you were here, listening to whatever he had to say.

"The city was so loud tonight, (Y/n). It always is, but tonight... It was too much. Sirens, gunshots, screams, everywhere. Women screaming, children screaming, all at once. Every time I tried to focus on one direction, there was another cry for help pulling me somewhere else”

You felt his heart starting to race again, and you put one of your hands on his chest, trying to remind him that he didn’t need to continue.

"There was a woman getting beat up by her husband while her little boy watched, begging his father to stop," he continued, his voice heavy. Even as you noticed his hazel eyes glossing over with unshed tears, you knew he needed to let it all out. For once.

Tears began to slip down his face, and you reached up to wipe one away with your fingers. It broke your heart to see him like this.

"At the same time, there was a girl being dragged into an alley because... because some lowlife decided her bag and her body were his to take." His voice wavered, frustration and sorrow mixing in his expression as more tears fell.

You cried with him, heartbroken by all this weight he carried alone.

"How am I supposed to make a choice like that?" he asked, his voice cracking, though it felt more like he was questioning God than you. His face was soaked with tears.

"How am I supposed to choose who gets help and who doesn’t? Who lives and who dies? I’m just one man! I can’t decide that. I can’t."

"Matt," you interrupted softly, cupping his face between your hands. "Matt, listen to me." You wiped his tears away with your fingertips, though your own vision was blurred by your own.

"Yes, you’re just one man. A man that has the kindest, most selfless heart I have ever known. You risk your life for people you don’t even know, do you hear me?"

His body shook with silent sobs, his head hanging low as he finally let all of his guilt and sorrow spill out. It hurt to see him like this, but you knew it was necessary.

"Listen to me," you urged again, tilting his face up to meet yours. "You’re not out there to make impossible choices, you’re out there to do what you can. It is your purpose, and you already give more than your best. All these scars on your body? They’re proof of that, Matt."

This time, it was Matt who wiped your tears, his silent way of thanking you for saying what he so desperately needed to hear.

"I’m here every night stitching you up, disinfecting your wounds, icing your bruises. So if anyone can say that what you do is more than enough, it’s me, okay? Please don’t take this burden on alone, it's too much for anyone to carry."

Matt pulled you into the tightest hug, burying his face in your hair as if he could physically hold onto your words and make them real. You held him close, rubbing slow circles on his back until his breathing steadied and his tears finally slowed.

“It’s over now, okay? This night is over and you did the best you could.” You made sure to remind him, while smoothing his messy hair to the side. “I know, but.. even here, even now, I can still hear the city. It doesn’t stop.” His voice was low, exhausted.

You took one of his hands in yours, pressing a soft kiss to his bruised knuckles. "So what do you need from me, Matt?" you asked gently. "Tell me."

He was quiet for a moment, his free hand reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His touch lingered for a second longer than usual.

“Will you sing to me?” he questioned shyly, facing you with the most loving look on his eyes. The request surprised you, but more than anything, you felt honored that he trusted you enough to ask for this. 

"You know I love your voice," he added, while holding your chin. He was trying to make you feel less self-conscious, which he knew was how you felt every time he asked you to sing more around him.  

You let out a small, fond sigh, while taking him by the hand. "Oh, what I wouldn’t do for you, Murdock… Come here."

You led him to your shared bed, climbing in first and urging Matt to follow. Noticing the exhaustion on his face, you felt reassured that bringing him to bed had been the right choice. You hoped to soothe him enough for sleep to finally take over.

“Come here,” you called softly, patting the spot beside you. You sat upright, your back resting against the pillows at the head of the bed.

Without hesitation, he lay down next to you, instinctively resting his head against your chest.

He inhaled deeply, taking advantage of the position to drown himself in your scent. He rested his arms around your waist and back, feeling the silky touch of your summer pajama set. You always made sure to wear clothes that were gentle on his senses.

“You comfortable?” you asked, making sure the position was good for both of you. You could already feel the weight of his muscles relaxing against you.

He only answered with a groan, indicating that he was so comfortable he didn’t even want to speak. Words felt unnecessary, just being there, feeling your warmth and steady heartbeat, was enough.

“What song should I sing?”

“Anything. I just want to hear your voice.”

You searched your mind for a song that could show him everything you felt, but could rarely say it to him. A melody that could show him how your heart ached in your chest every time he stumbled through that door battered and burdened, or every time he blamed himself because he wasn’t fast enough to save someone who needed his help. You wanted him to know that if you could, you would shield him from it all, the same way he so desperately tried to shield this city. He was always the protector, always the one worrying, always the one putting himself between the world and its darkness. You wanted to do the same for him, to take even a fraction of his pain, to be his refuge the same way he was for you and for so many other people throughout Hell’s Kitchen.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. Your fingers absentmindedly ran through Matt’s hair, feeling the soft strands beneath your touch. You knew he was waiting, waiting for your voice, for the comfort he had asked for but rarely allowed himself to receive.

So you sang.

I remember tears streaming down your face When I said I'll never let you go When all those shadows almost killed your light

Your voice was soft, a whisper against the noise of the city outside.

I remember you said don’t leave me here alone But all that’s dead and gone and passed tonight

You lowered your head, pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead, a silent reassurance, a vow without words. His arms tightened ever so slightly around you, as if grounding himself in the warmth of your presence.

Then, softly, you continued into the chorus.

Just close your eyes, the sun is going down You’ll be alright, no one can hurt you now Come morning light You and I’ll be safe and sound

Your fingers traced soothing patterns along his back, feeling the slow rise and fall of his breath. His grip on you loosened just a little, the tension in his muscles melting away with every note that left your lips. You felt Matt’s lips press against your collarbone in a quiet, wordless thank you.

Don’t you dare look out your window Darling, everything’s on fire The war outside our door keeps raging on

You continued, raising your hand to caress the stubble on his face, tracing every line of his features. It wasn’t often that you got to admire him like this, without the bruises and blood demanding your attention. Just him, safe in your arms.

Your thumb brushed over his cheekbone, down to his jaw, committing every inch of him to memory. The way his eyelashes fluttered slightly at your touch, the way his lips parted just the slightest as he melted further into you.

For now, he wasn’t Daredevil. He wasn’t a hero burdened with impossible choices. He was just Matt, your Matt. And you would hold him for as long as he needed.

Hold on to this lullaby Even when the music’s gone Gone

The steady rhythm of your fingers through his hair guided him away from the chaos of the city.

Just close your eyes, the sun is going down You’ll be alright, no one can hurt you now

At this point you realized he was starting to drift off to sleep. You adjusted the blankets around the two of you, making sure his exposed back was covered. You felt the rise and fall of his chest begin to slow, the tension in his shoulders finally melting away beneath your touch. His arms remained around you, looser now, more trusting, like his body had finally surrendered to rest.

Your fingers found their way back to his hair, lazily brushing through the dark strands as your song faded into silence. Outside, the city murmured like it always did. Distant sirens, cars, honks, but in your shared little world, everything was still.

“You still with me?” you whispered, not expecting an answer.

No answer. Just his breath, calm and deep. He was finally asleep. You looked down at his peaceful features and smiled with a tenderness that welled up from the deepest parts of your chest.

“I’ve got you, Matt. Always.” you leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, like sealing a promise with your lips.

You then rested your head back against the pillows, your arms still wrapped around him. His warmth and his scent lingered in the air around you, grounding you just as you had grounded him. Outside, the familiar sounds of Hell’s Kitchen filtered through the windows. You hated it for all the ways it hurt him. You loved it for all the ways it had led him to you.

With his steady breath against your skin, the weight of him safe in your arms, you finally let yourself close your eyes.

For now, he was here. For now, he was safe. And that was enough.

.

Thanks for reading! Feedback and comments are always welcome! ❤️

[saturn-sends-hugs]

see the thing about daredevil is that matt’s relationship with foggy is such an essential part of his character as a whole that it just feels empty without him. you NEED foggy the silly ray of sunshine as a contrast to matt’s constant brooding! he’s “the beating heart of daredevil” after all!!

in born again, we’re missing that. some characters fill in temporarily, like kirsten or… no ok it’s just kirsten and she BARELY gets enough screen time as is. Karen and Frank are great companions for him, but none of them fill in the space left by foggy and no one can. we don’t have that consistent anchor for matt that’s so important. matt has no more “angel on his shoulder” so to speak like foggy was for him.

and yeah, that’s the point of the season. without foggy, matt is lost, makes sense. but that problem is NEVER RESOLVED. matt has lost the closest thing to family that he had and we only ever saw him avoiding his grief, and there’s so many ways they could’ve resolved that plot point that the fact they didn’t is a little sad to me.

if foggy was revealed to be alive, this would obviously fix the problem. matt would have his anchor and even if everything wasn’t instantly fixed, that part of the plot would’ve been wrapped up.

but even if foggy wasn’t still alive, there could’ve been a better resolution for this. matt could’ve finally broken down and grieved for him, recognizing just how lost he is now. karen could’ve helped him and it would’ve felt SO much more impactful if everything wasn’t better, if he didn’t feel strong enough to fight for the city like he needs to, but if he decided to try anyway for foggy. some sort of tribute to his best friend would be the perfect motivation for him to put in the effort.

and what if things just got worse instead? what if, after having lost his best friend and rebuilt his life only to feel like it’s all fake, he just kept spiraling? what if he completely stopped caring, pushed everyone away again, and went to get revenge on vanessa alone? it would be a bit of a repeat of season 3, sure, but it still makes sense and follows through on the sort of impact foggy’s death should have.

idk, i think i’m just a little sad that they’re trying to make a whole show about daredevil while leaving out one of the most crucial pieces. even if he was to stay dead, the effects of that should have a way bigger impact than what we’ve been shown, especially in the finale if matt’s problems were supposedly “all about him”.

[kdheaven]

3x11 | 3x13 for @darcyofmine

id under the cut

In a series of gifs from Daredevil Season 3, Episode 11, Karen Page speaks to Matt Murdock in the crypt of Clinton Church, telling him, "Killing anyone, even Fisk... it will change everything that you feel about yourself." In a parallel series of gifs from Episode 13, Matt fights Wilson Fisk in his penthouse and ultimately decides against killing him, declaring, "You don't get to destroy who I am."

[thebctman]

I'm actually a fan of all the choices they for Daredevil: Born Again. Has it been heartbreaking? Yes, but it makes sense thematically and it casts a presence on Matt's entire story. Yes, I'm talking about Foggy's death. There is something so tragic over the fact that Foggy spent years trying to convince Matt to give up the mask and his death was finally the thing to do it.

His final line to Matt being "maybe I didn't want to give you an excuse" is so perfectly in character that it HURTS.

And to everyone saying that Karen running away to San Francisco is out of character, I absolutely disagree. In fact, I say it's PERFECTLY in character. Karen did the same thing when her brother died. In the face of her grief, she ran away. Karen has already lost a brother and she has lost one more in this moment.

To all the people saying that Matt moving out of Hell's Kitchen and running to the skylines of Manhattan is out of character.

I once again say it's IN character.

Matthew Murdock is a man who shuts people and emotions out in the face of his grief.

Literally just look at season 3 if anyone needs a refresher. Foggy was the one to pull him out of it and he can't do that anymore. Matt cuts people out, and it makes perfect sense that he would not go back to the place that is a waking reminder of his best friend. Hell's Kitchen took his father, his innocence and now finally his best friend, of course he's going to shut it out.

I hate to say it, but Matthew Murdock is a tragic figure. He struggles with morality and he sadly does not get a happy ending.

The tragedy of his story is that he can glimpses of happiness, but he always gives it up because he feels like has a moral responsibility to help, even if it ruins his life.

Finally, I will say this. Karen is coming back in season 1 for multiple episodes. Rumor is that she’s back for the last 3 episodes. Foggy is also coming back in season 2, it's already confirmed alongside Karen.

To provide context, the show lifts Foggy's death from a comic run.

The kicker?

Foggy doesn't actually die. He goes under witness protection program so l'm kinda hoping that happens.

Leaks are kinda mixed on what's real since they reshot everything besides White Tiger since the actor sadly passed away in 2023. So I'm kind of hoping that he's back but who knows. And even if he’s still gone, I’ll still think it’s a good decision.

[lydiamarsin]

Also, I’ll take Kastle however we can get it. But the love triangle is so tired. It just makes no sense at this point.

Daredevil season 2 showed why Karen and Matt aren’t compatible. It also posed the idea that she has far more in common with Frank. We then saw in season 3 that Karen and Matt work better as friends.

Meanwhile, Karen and Frank’s connection strengthened throughout The Punisher show. There was no question how deep their feelings for each other had become. In season 2 she was willing to abandon everything for Frank.

So why are we backtracking again? Matt has several other love interests that we could continue to explore instead.

[carbonfiction]

Hello 🥰🥰

Popping in to say, I love your writing 💜

I’m very new to falling in love with Frank Castle, seeing him introduced in Daredevil season two and I’m just swooning.

Thinking about him coming home, all banged up, but that’s nothing new. Your first aid kit has gotten pretty extensive. And he likes how soft your hands are, cleaning cuts, applying butterfly bandages. Jokes that maybe you should “kiss it better”, rolling your eyes and telling him that he’s barely stopped bleeding, but he doesn’t care, pulling you into his lap and telling you that you’re his favorite kinda medicine…and man is so handssyyyy

Hi hello welcome!! Thank you so much, im so so glad you enjoy my stuff! <3

Honestly the swooning of him in Daredevil is so real bc our man is looking fiiiiiine- shabby and sad in that uniquely frank way, but visually.. So goddamn beautiful anyway. Truly missed seeing him so much.

But you are SO right! He absolutely is softening the blow of him coming home hurt by trying to joke or get touchy. Hands grabbing at your waist beneath your clothes or drifting until his thumbs sit beneath your bra. Even while often bleeding from somewhere and bruised black n blue.

Yet it never ever stops you from letting him tug you close; even when you grumble at him for it.

Because Its those moments that Frank holds you like your the one bleeding. Standing between his legs or sat perched pretty on his lap.

He’s hurt sure, its visible and Jesus Christ Frank is it real, but it doesn’t phase him anymore- not after everything. You however? He sees the wall you try to build, the breath you take to steel yourself at the sight of him so banged up. Sometimes even limping through the door.

You love him regardless of those nights, how could you not? but he can always see what it causes you, see the hurt you feel for him. Its never pitty exactly, more that same pain from a bloodied bullet wound or a knifes gash that etches on your face. eyebrows cutely pinched and lips softly pouted as you insist on helping patch up.

Frank even watches the way you flinch for him, Visibily a little woozy as you hold the needle and thread for stitches in between trembling fingers. Forehead creased and nose scrunched just slightly, while he just watches, silent. The sharp pull and tug of fresh stitches hurting you more than him.

Yet the care of how you're taking it always shows in the way coos at you, grunted whispers of praise and guidance serving as a distraction to occasional sniffles.

“Atta girl, doin good.”

“Needs another stich, you see that spot right there? Good girl”

“best damn doc around, you know that sweetheart? Fixin me up real good”

"think a kiss would solve that one? No? You sure bout that doc? Heard kisses are the best medicine for that kinda thing.."

“big breaths yeah? Almost done. Proud of you”

"Who needs a hospital when you are this good? Givin em a run for their money sweetheart; ever thought of switchin career paths?"

And after? When blood has poured down the drain and his wounds are cleaned; skin stitched and holes packed? he hold you, like it was all inflicted on your body instead of his.

Large frame always pressed agasint yours in some way. Legs tangled or hands held. Once bloodied and most definetly bruised, but warm, safe. Home for another night, even if those pills he's began to hide helps dull the throb that extra bit.

But you dont have to know about those, no.. Not when hes got the best medicine around in you.

[to-thelakes]

sleepy

pairing; matt murdock x fem!reader

summary; re-adjusting to anti-depressants was never an easy task but you have your vigilante boyfriend to help.

warnings; fluff, just pure fluff, reader is on anti-depressants and very very sleepy, also a cheese lover

notes; this one-shot is definitely at least a few months old, i think i wrote it when i originally switched my dosage so it's a little chaotic. i feel like there's a lack of fics talking or discussing antidepressants so i like filling in the gap to comfort anyone who was suffering the sleepiness and shitty feelings like i was those first few months. also this is my first matty one-shot i'm releasing so please enjoy <3

masterlist

You were so tired. The first two weeks of antidepressants, you were told, would be the worst but it hadn’t prepared you for just how exhausted you felt. You had spent most of the first three days, curled up in bed and sleeping the day away. By the fourth day, your snack supplies had already begun to dwindle which is the opposite of what you needed right now.

And by the fifth day, you had to venture out to the store. And that had killed you off. You had gotten back, grabbed a bag of chips and curled up on the couch. Within a few hours you were asleep and you stayed like that for another four hours. The TV had suddenly seemed to get astronomically loud and it woke you from your slumber.

So, with a little huff, you rolled off the couch and began to make something proper to eat for dinner. But you felt exhausted. It clung to your mind, hovering over you as you tried to make cheesy pasta. Everything felt impossible and slow and it was frustrating but it was made better when you heard the familiar tap-tap-tap on the fire escape window. 

A grin spread across your face as you left your pasta to heat up the cheese, pulling the window open as Matt Murdock climbed through. He was still in his Daredevil costume and you thought he looked rather silly but he already knew that’s what you thought of his costume. He liked hearing you tease him.

But rather than saying anything, you just wrapped your arms around his torso and hugged him. Your eyes fell closed as you snuggled into him making him chuckle softly.

“It’s nice to see you too, darling,” He greeted softly. All you had the energy to do was hum in vague acknowledgement. His arms wrapped around your shoulders for a moment before he softly reminded you about the food on the stove. So, you reluctantly pulled back and went over to the pan. You split the pasta into two bowls and turned around just as Matt pulled his helmet off. He placed it down on the counter before cautiously walking over to you.

“I’m sleepy,” You mumbled softly as you passed him the bowl. He took a hold of it, searching for the fork before he began to eat it. You had added a little bit of seasoning, salt, pepper, garlic powder in hopes of giving it a little more flavour. But you knew within the first bite and from the look on Matt’s face that you had gone overboard with the garlic. A huff escaped your lips and you placed the bowl on the side, “I’m going back to bed,” You declared, giving up for the day. Matt chuckled, listening to your footsteps as you walked across the apartment to your bed.

The air moved around you as you face-planted and he couldn’t help another chuckle as he turned around. His gaze landed somewhere near you but you weren’t even paying attention. Sleep was desperate to crawl up your spine and take you in but Matt was here now and you wanted to see him for a bit.

He managed to place the bowl on your side before he navigated his way carefully through your apartment. He could smell a bowl of hummus on the floor somewhere, you had a habit of leaving random crockery on the floor so he was being careful before he reached your bed. He crawled onto it before he sat cross-legged across from you.

“How long have you slept today?” He asked curiously. You mumbled in vague response but he didn’t catch a single word of it. He reached out towards you and gently pushed your head back so that you would tilt your head to the side, “What was that?” He had a teasing lilt to his tone and it made you want to smack him.

“A while but I’m sleepy,” You muttered. Matt knew that you were on new medication. You had tried to hide it from him a few days ago but he could smell your body going haywire. It was the same with everyone he had known who switched medication. Body’s went haywire while they adjusted before eventually settling back into routine.

That’s all this was but he still found your sleepy-grumpiness adorable. Matt held his hand out towards you and you reluctantly dragged yourself so you could curl into his lap. His fingers began to run through your hair but the strands were getting caught on his gloves. You let out disgruntled noises before he decided to take his gloves off. Then his fingertips began to massage your scalp and you hummed happily.

“You feeling better?” He asked. You ‘mhm’d in response and he could tell that you were going to fall asleep in his lap, “I need to change, darling. Need you to get out of my lap.” There was an amused lilt to his voice and another disgruntled noise fell from your lips. You moved out of his lap before dropping onto the top of the bed. Matt always found your mood while sleepy to be not all that dissimilar to a cat. You hated being disturbed when you were curled up and comfortable and when you were, you gave the offender the evils.

You assumed Matt didn’t know that you did that but he could sense it. He had always been able to feel your gaze boring into him.

“In the usual place?” He asked. You let out another hum of agreement before you burrito’d in your covers, snuggling your face into the pillow. He changed silently, listening to your heartbeat and breathing to see if you had fallen asleep. But it seemed you weren’t falling into it quite yet. Once he had changed, he walked over to the bed and lay on top of the mattress.

And that was when you unburritoed yourself and crawled on top of Matt. You practically curled up on his chest, burritoing both of you with the covers as you snuggle into his neck. Matt’s arms wrapped around your back.

“Much better,” You mumbled under your breath. He chuckled softly at your words and you let your eyes close. Your breathe evened out relatively quickly, “Much better.” You snuggled up to him, peppering kisses across his neck before you nuzzled there. Matt grinned and pressed a kiss against your hairline.

“Glad I could be of service,” He teased. You grumbled against his chest but he merely continued to grin, kissing your hairline again before he let his eyes fall closed.

[pastafossa]

Hi Pasta! This might be kind of a weird ask but I need your help as my favorite writer and daredevil authority. I have to write a paper analyzing the ethical and moral frameworks of an organization or piece of media and of course I chose Matt Murdock. I was thinking of doing two main sections, lawyer Matt and devil Matt. I was wondering if you had any scenes or points I could make? I’m not a very good writer (this is an engineering major requirement haha) and I know you’re well versed on this subject. Any thoughts would be greatly appreciated! (I also want to connect it to todays current government issues but I’m a wee bit scared to)

FRIEND THIS ASK GOT ME LIKE

Thank you SO SO MUCH and also YOU CHOSE SO FUCKING WELL. Quite frankly I wish DD was out when I was taking my ethics class in college, my prof loved when we used pop culture scenes to illustrate key points in ethical debates, and I've thought more than once about the way I'd have come crashing in through his door holding a foam-covered stack of pages ranting about the ethical implications of Daredevil.

IN OTHER WORDS, I HAVE THOUGHTS THAT MIGHT HELP.

Firstly, you're right: Lawyer Matt and Daredevil both occupy different ethical spaces, which is wild since they're both in the same person. Those two sides are often in opposition, which obviously makes for lovely conflict since Matt's constantly struggling with finding a middle ground.

Interestingly though, a lot of what he does comes down to the same reasoning. Just with two different ways he does it.

For Lawyer!Matt, I'd argue important scenes illustrating his ethical and moral framework would be:

His entire closing statement in 'Rabbit in a Snowstorm' (Season 1 Ep 3 off the top of my head) is an excellent display of how he views the law, why he does what he does in the courtroom: "These questions of good and evil, as important as they are, have no place in a court of law. Only the facts matter. "

Season 2, episode 6 when he's convincing Foggy why they should take Frank's case to prevent Frank from getting the death penalty: "He's a person, Foggy. Like you, like me."

Season 1 ep 10, Nelson v. Murdock is rife with stuff for both Lawyer!Matt's ethics and Daredevil's, but for this one, it's worth considering how he convinces Foggy to leave Landman and Zack: "Is this what you want? To be a part of that? Protecting corporations from people that need help?"

I'd also bring up the examples in S1 and S2 where there's a ton of people who can't pay with money, and so pay with food instead. This is spread across multiple episodes, but it's a telling sign of how Matt truly does believe all should be represented, regardless of ability to pay. It's him helping his community.

For Daredevil's ethics, the three most massive, most telling scenes I'd argue are:

His argument with Frank on the rooftop, Season 2, episode 3. I love this scene so much I have it bookmarked. It is my favorite ethical argument scene ever. They're having an ethical argument that's thousands of years old. Why doesn't he kill? "What about hope?"

Another from Nelson v Murdock, where he talks about the little girl. I have this one bookmarked too, because it's another fucking amazing example of why Matt's ethics are what they are as Daredevil. He believes in the law. He does. And he believes we should be working to fix the system. But the law at present is not enough. "The law couldn't help that little girl... but I could." (SA warning for anyone who hasn't seen it)

Above episode also has the exchange between Foggy, "That isn't fair, Matt," and Matt's reply, "We don't live in a world that's fair. We live in this one. And I'm doing everything I can to make it a better place."

I'd can't remember it off the top of my head but the episode where Matt is examining Frank on the witness stand and sort of takes a sideways tangent into what this city needs. He calls out the corruption of the police, and why the city needs people who will act. He's VERY clearly talking about himself here and not just Frank.

And a tie in for both: his speech at Lantom's funeral about doing what he can for those around him.

I do think if you want to tie it into current events, you can easily do so! The corruption of the cops (S1), the writers drew inspo from a Certain Person in S3 for Fisk (iirc he even says he'll "Make Hell's Kitchen Great Again") including how he leveraged the feds for his own power, the failure of the system with Frank Castle in S2, hell, DDBA swung hard for it again with Leroy Bradford (he says something like "They're willing to spend five times more to lock me up than they are to feed me") and the entire corrupt cop plotline coming back around. The show's always been viscerally real even with the presence of enhanced abilities. Matt lives in a world very much like this one, and with a lot of the same issues. His struggle, in many ways, is ours, I wouldn't be too afraid to acknowledge that even if it's just in general terms since so much of ethics in fiction (and in Daredevil especially) is about seeing what it's trying to tell us about our own world. <3

[chvoswxtch]

I still haven’t emotionally processed episode four and I probably never will but if you’re interested in my chaotic ramblings pls step into my office below

first of all frank waited ten fucking years to get his lick back he is the pettiest bitch alive and I am here for it 

he said bitch I didn’t forget when you said “boo hoo who’d you lose” reverse uno altar boy 

“how bout old foggy, he get life?”

FRANCIS DAVID CASTIGLIONE HOW DARE YOU 

also the fucking hand clapping while saying I don’t have time for your candy ass hero shit he’s so fucking sassy pls 

the juxtaposition between wanting to cream seeing our boys back together onscreen but also wanting to scream bc that whole interaction was so raw and brutal and wrecked me and not in the slutty way like I wanted

I wanna talk about how matt either knew where frank was this entire time or he knows frank’s heartbeat and scent and tracked him there which is stupid romantic 

I don’t wanna talk about how frank didn’t even raise his hands to defend himself and would’ve let matt keep hitting him 

I don’t want to talk about matt’s whole monologue about foggy bc I will never emotionally recover from that

I do want to talk about how 3 different people kept emphasizing to matt that the system is broken and does not work that was definitely not a coincidence 

I do want to talk about matt being a slut and flirting to reduce a prison sentence 

also the end?? adam screaming “let me out” while matt is on the roof with his billy club after trying to not let the devil out for 4 episodes??? the fucking parallels my GOD

each fucking episode just keeps getting better and better 

honorable mention fisk nearly crashing out having to sit though 2 choir performances had me HOLLERING

I also want to do a lil check in since we only have five episodes left of this half of this season-

I have seen a lot of people say this matt feels ��out of character” and I think that’s the point. it’s supposed to be uncomfortable. there’s a lot of underlying tension in this season, it feels like something is building and we’re all waiting for the eruption. this is not the matt we saw in the original series. we will probably never get that matt back. this is season 3 matt but like times ten. he said he would rather die as the devil than live as matt murdock and he definitely “died” the night foggy was killed, in his daredevil suit on that roof. he also pushed dex off the roof, and although dex didn’t die so it wasn’t murder, matt still attempted to kill him, which still counts as crossing a line in his own head

matt is not living, he’s existing. he is a hollow shell of who he used to be. he lost everything that made him who he was

foggy, his best friend and moral compass. karen, his other best friend and voice of reason. he lost the two people who were essentially the only family he had left in the world. he lost his home, he told fisk he doesn’t go back to hell’s kitchen and doesn’t live there anymore. he lost his faith, he’s not going to church anymore. and he lost daredevil, his outlet to let his darker half out that made him feel like he was making a difference. this man is lost

the term “born again” is usually used to describe a religious transformation. I don’t think calling the show born again was just about matt returning as daredevil. I think it’s us seeing matt at his absolute lowest, hitting rock bottom, losing every sense of who he is, and then watching him rise from the ashes

I truly thought hector being murdered was gonna make matt lose his shit but now I’m very curious what’s going to make him actually snap and put the suit back on. I think the main reason he's fighting it so hard is to honor foggy's memory. foggy's last words to him were "I didn't want to give you a reason". foggy always wanted matt to put his faith in the system and do things the "right" way and matt is trying to do that but he's clearly struggling, because he has no faith in anything anymore

I have a lot of ideas about what I think is going to happen this season but I’d love to hear what y’all think so feel free to ramble with me or just scream or cry we can do that too

[urautismdiagnosis-wistie]

Kwazii And Tweak Dynamic Headcanons

<rough sketch sorry lol>

@traumatizedartist

They are ✨SIBLINGS✨ to me-

EDIT: I forgot to mention that I'm 1000% sure neither one remembers to do their laundry all the time so they totally steal eachothers clothes 😭

The big sister of thr octopod and our tiny daredevil gremlin?!!

cmon yall remember the earlier seasons though 🥺 hed crash a gup or sneak out in the middle of the night drive the gup b (and she always woke up whenever he left she has that rabbit hearing)- she has the Big Sister Authority, she just let's you use the gups 😔🙏 u better be grateful kwazii

Him KNOWING he'd be in so much trouble when he snuck out to *try* to teach shellington to drive-

(They canoncially ended up both crashing after shellington imitated kwazii CRASHING and then shellie was like "owh no! We should call tweak :o"

and kwazii immeditaly yelled out NO-i I i mean we can do it ourselves! Its fine! <:] no need to tell tweak matie"

Not to mention he looks up to her and calls her a genius???

Tweak loves this little guy and his antics though 😭 she loves to see him happy but she's really the type to either encourage the mischief (like girl we all know u did not need to make flying fish mode really ans truly u did that for the silly cat) or be the one yo get him into trouble 😭

He def doesn't crash the gups like before, but I feel like at a certain point she absolutely made him help her. I headcanon that he actually started helping her alot more with repairs and etc as time went on, hes not some engineering genius but he can help

They're also both so proud of eachother and trust eachother so deeply, esp in The Ring Of Fire where they both had to escape the flooded (and on fire???) Underwater base that tweak used for big gup repairs and upkeep

Tweak loves old classic games and kwazii never really had too much exposure to popular media, unless u count his comics lol, I feel like autism meets adhd with them yk? U can't convince me that tweak wouldn't have introduced him to sonic the hedgehog and that he wouldn't have LOVED it

They have banter and inside jokes and they know eachothers habits and needs yk?

They look out for eachother, whether its trying to prevent the other (kwazii cough cough) from getting into trouble or being the one willing to risk their own safety to make sure the other is ok 🥺

Also for my own au kwazii did spend a considerable amount of his teen years alone, meanwhile tweak just has the autism where u do not know how to "live normally and properly take care of urself"

They both have atrocious sleep schedules me thinks, with kwaziis adhd making him be up at random hours and tweak falling deep into the rabbit hole (pun INTENDED)of engineering and working

I think he helps remind her to take care of herself without any judgement you know

Tweak is the type of person to not judge anyone either and just hear you out i think and kwazii seems like the type who would go waddle in a seamp for hours to dig out the necklace you lost just so u could be happy

So yes they love eachother and they mean the world to me 🥺

Kwazii is just so excited about everything this woman does lol, and she's like oh God this guy really is somethin and I think thats great

Shes just like sure hun to him yapping for 3 + hours about his idea to add fcking canons or some sht to the gups as she's welding stuff together

Also I think kwazii would be a decent mechanic for the gups after all the years of practice with tweaks supervision and teaching i mean he has whole mini pirate ship replicas in jars for crying out loud, as long as he can keep his brain engaged i think he has the ability to do precision work and repairs, esp since he did sail on his own by himself for years anyways

Woods pretty different from metal but tweak is patient with him, even if her "oh u fcked up" glare (and the weight of its consequences) could absolutely smite you on the spot

I might be forgetting some stuff but yall see the vision right, but lmk yalls headcanons n all that lol

ALSO ANY CULTURAL HEADCANONS I HAVE ABOUT TWEAK IS OBJECTIVELY CORRECT CUZ IM FROM THERE TOO ( I'm joking lol people can have different opinions duh, but fr i just i feel connected to her in my soul 🥺)

(Like girlie kwaziis room is better than yours, why the fck don't u have a dresser but instead just a whole *ss kitchen table? Not bed frame, no decent lighting, repair parts on your floor its a mess- like i feel you tweak I've been there, but bbg its been years and im sure the other crew members have talked to u about this, atp its a CHOICE and honestly continueing to live like that is real)

[slowsonic69]

Leave My Body

Chapter 1

Benjamin Poindexter x fem!oc

Summary: His words collapsing Alex's walls as easily as a blow could collapse a house of cards. It had felt right. Authors note's: Story is happening during the five years between season 3 of Daredevil and Daredevil: Born Again. I don't what this is, but the lack of Dex fic made me write it. I am in no way an experienced writer, so bare with me. I hope everything is coherent and if you notice any grammar mistakes, please tell me and I'll fix it. English is not my first language. Maybe I'll write more about those two maybe not...enjoy!!

Word count: 2.7k

———————————————————————

The most horrifying aspect of life for Alex Hazel was change. Change in seasons, in people, in time. Everything seemed to move toward someplace or another, in a hurry for something different — something better.

Alex preferred stagnation, using the same trustworthy tools she had been given at a young age. The same vanilla scented softener her older sister used to wash her clothes with. The same gun her father taught her how to kill with.

With change came complication, unknown factors accumulating into an uncomfortable feeling that settled heavily in her chest. So heavy that she had to focus on her breathing while watching Benjamin Poindexter make omelets in her kitchen — with the wrong pan.

“You like ’em scrambled or flat?” His back was turned to her. His muscles shifted underneath the tight-fitting black t-shirt he had stolen, as he shook the eggs in the cast-iron pan instead of the non-stick one.

With no answer, he turned, an eyebrow raised, unsure if she was still there.

“I don’t like eggs,” Alex finally responded, her hands tightening into fists. He noticed and smiled, turning back to the chaos he was unleashing in her kitchen.

“Of course.” A chuckle resonated deep in his throat, mocking her in her own kitchen. Wearing her t-shirt and sweatpants, using the wrong fucking pan. She had to look away, to let it go. He was here only for a few days, and then he’d be gone.

She’d never have to deal with him again after finally repaying this favor — they’d be even and strangers once more.

With all the strength she could muster, Alex moved her legs toward the sofa, sitting herself down with a rigid spine. Her hands awkwardly placed on her lap. She didn’t know what to do with herself, not when someone else was here. A long-forgotten skill of sharing spaces. The last time had been when she still lived at home with her siblings and father. Since then, she was alone — for the better.

Seemingly trying to torture her, he came to join her at the sofa, a plate in hand and cutlery. He sat with a flop, a lot more comfortable than she felt. From an outsider's point of view, he seemed more at home than she was. It irrationally irritated her.

Placing his plate on the living room table, he picked up the remote and put on whatever channel she had last been watching: Cartoon Network. He eyed her for a moment, the same mocking smirk on his lips.

“Watching kid’s shows?”

Her fingers twitched to grab her AutoMag III hidden underneath the couch and put a bullet between his two eyes. But she didn’t — for some unknown reason.

“It’s entertaining,” she answered instead, her gaze laser-focused on the screen in front of her. Not absorbing anything of the show. Benjamin Poindexter hummed in a taunting way but didn’t change the channel. He preferred to lean forward and start eating his omelet instead, one big bite at a time. Some pieces fell from his chewing mouth back into the plate.

Alex felt her face contort from disgust — She might watch kid’s shows, but he ate like one.

“How long will you be staying?” The question slipped out of her, in desperate search for a possible release from him.

He shrugged, taking another bite. Her left eye twitched. “That’s not an answer.”

Swallowing after barely chewing his food, he placed his fork and knife crisscross on the now-empty plate. Finishing his omelet in record time —Did he even taste it?

“Already growing tired of me, Hazel?” He leaned his elbows on his knees, his head tilted, as if this was a genuine concern of his. She knew better.

“I ask for inventory’s sake,” Alex reasoned, wishing it were socially acceptable to just say ‘yes’ to such a question. Then again, she shouldn’t care about what was socially acceptable with a man like Poindexter. He surely didn’t.

For a moment, he just looked at her in a silence only filled with whatever show was playing in the background. His black pits searching hers, perhaps for a weakness, or maybe a hidden weapon stashed behind her eyeballs. A show of strength, most likely. Alex had never found the hitman intimidating — or anyone.

She had no reason to. He was like every person she had ever met. Annoyingly human with badly hidden insecurities. He was flesh and blood, something she could pierce and hit until it was black and blue and dead.

“A week or two. Depends.” An answer, less vague but still unspecific. Every fiber in her body wanted to ask for more, to know the whole ordeal of his stay here. She restrained herself, deciding it was better to know as little as possible to avoid getting involved altogether.

With a nod, she stood, escaping to her bedroom.

“Oh! Before you go.” She stopped mid-walk, slightly turning.

“Next time you order groceries on your phone, can you add a pack of beers?”

A pause. “I’ll consider it.”

Without waiting for an answer, she retreated to her bedroom, sat in the corner of her bed, wiping the tiredness from her face with her hands. Finally alone, Alex was left with one last question echoing through her mind.

How did he know she ordered her groceries

--------------------------------------------------------

Poindexter was strange, but ultimately not such a bad roommate. He cleaned up after himself, cooked his own meals, and most importantly — left her alone. Most nights, when Alex came back from her office job, the apartment was empty, as if no one else had ever lived there but her. It was only hours later, in the early mornings, that she would hear the keys jingle in the door lock — then a loud thud on the couch.

Leaving for work, she sometimes inspected his unconscious body from afar. Checking if he had any open wounds bleeding into her couch, if he was really asleep or simply resting his eyes. She even kept quiet while making her breakfast, glancing over every so often to see if he stirred at any noise. If he did hear anything, he didn’t seem to mind — too tired to care, perhaps.

And after each morning, watching him snore softly, more questions kept popping up in her head about his whereabouts — questions she would never ask, even if it ate her alive. She couldn’t. She had left that life behind, and tipping one foot back into it would be enough to make her topple forward in full force. Alex had to accept the mystery, for her own sake.

She contented herself with imagined scenarios, ones she built from the few clues he left behind. An open newspaper on the kitchen island—a picture of a New York lawyer winning a case, a red bullseye scribbled over his head. His next target? Although throughout Poindexter’s stay, no news ever came of the lawyer’s death. Strange.

There was also the collection of knives drying on a towel in the bathroom, ranging in size and thickness. Some duller than others, telling her he preferred the thinner ones. They must pierce skin easier—he preferred quick deaths, then.

Mud-stuck shoes were neatly placed in the hallway closet. A H-S Precision sniper rifle rested upright next to them, a model well known among federal agencies. An ex-fed? His stiff mannerisms pushed her more toward a military angle. Perhaps he had been both.

She couldn’t build a coherent story for him, and it made her brain itch and stretch, frustrated by her own imposed rule of not looking him up.

It was a good exercise in self-control—one she planned to succeed in. He wouldn’t destroy what she had worked so hard to build.

So days went on, the both of them almost never crossing path. Even when they did, not much was said. Only the few things he needed her to order from the groceries. Beer, mac & cheese, premade meals ect…

Whatever asked the least of effort to make but gave enough fuel to go through a day —practical stuff. It became a routine, one she could follow. One she could accept for the time being.

Until she came home after two weeks of living together. He was sitting at the kitchen island, a cold beer in hand. She froze for a second, not expecting him at this hour.

The thought of greeting passed through her like a shiver. An urge to ask about his day, if he enjoyed the beer she had bought for him. If he was as lonely as she was. Alex shook her head, silently scolding herself —they weren’t even real roommates.

He ignored her too, facing the kitchen his back to her. Lost in his own a daze it seemed. Did he even know she was there?

“Welcome back.”

Of course he knew she was there. “Hello.” She settled on as she put her coat and shoes away in the hallway closet. A stinging sensation crawling up her spine —she realized she was nervous. How stupid. How pathetic.

"Good day at work?" he asked, sipping from his beer and finally turning his whole body to face her, a curious look in his eyes. He made it seem so simple, these questions — as if they were nothing, a leaf in the wind.

"I didn’t take you for someone who participates in small talk," she said, placing her bag on the island and unloading her empty lunch box and reusable water bottle.

"What can I say? I’m full of surprises." He smiled, his full upper row of teeth on display, leaning toward her. She could smell the beer on him — and something else. An odor she had noticed in her bathroom towels and the cushions of her couch.

Leather, with a hint of gunpowder and soap. A scent that had crawled its way into her home. She had been alarmed when she first detected it — it was different, it wasn’t hers. She had washed the cushions and towels, using more detergent and softener than needed. But it stuck, and it only amplified every time he reused them. So she gave up.

Then — without even realizing it — she grew used to it. To him.

His smile suddenly became unbearable to look at.

“It was fine. Work was fine.”

It felt unnatural to answer, to even consider how her day had gone. Alex didn’t think about such futile things. Days were days; how she felt about them didn’t matter. It wouldn’t change the fact that she had to go back to work the next day.

"Susie didn’t give you any trouble today?"

Her movements halted, her eyebrows creasing together. She figured.

"How long have you been following me?"

He chuckled. "Well, I had to know what kind of person I was dealing with."

She had been too focused on how she acted and spoke, questioning every action with tedious care — not even spending a second to look further than her own nose. Her father would be disgusted by her carelessness.

Alex managed to stare him down then, not out of anger or fear; she simply looked at him. Observing him, catching up to the fact that he had observed her first.

Crooked dirty-blonde hair, gray strands growing from his sideburns. A square jaw meeting in the middle at a cleft chin, covered with light stubble. A straight nose, and two brown eyes beside it, heavy eye bags holding them tightly.

He was handsome —she concluded with a frustrated sigh.

“And?” She asked, taking her empty lunch box and bottle to the kitchen sink.

He finished his beer with one last sip before answering. “I was disappointed to find out about your change of career.”

Washing the metal box, her back now to him, she shrugged. There was not much to say. Not much she wanted to tell him. Or anyone. It was a choice she had made on her own, so, she would handle it alone.

“You know you can’t run away from it forever right?”

Alex placed the metal lunch box on the dish drying rack, turning her attention to the water bottle. She could feel the wall between them building inside her — brick by brick. He could spy on her, mock her, steal her clothes, use the wrong kitchen utensils — but she wouldn’t allow him to give her advice. As if he knew her. As if they were friends.

Finishing up, she passed him with hastened steps. "I’m tired. I’m going to bed."

A small gasp escaped her as he shot forward, his finger wrapping around her arm painfully. "You can’t throw away what you have like it’s nothing. I’ve never seen anyone fight like you, kill like you."

The couch was only 6 feet away. Beneath it, the AutoMag III was still waiting to be used. She could reach it in time, before he could even throw the first object at her.

His hold tightened as if hearing her thoughts.

“That night... when we first met." A low wavering whisper, only for her to hear. Stepping closer the smell of cheap beer followed him. Overfilling her senses once more, but Alex stayed put nonetheless. Focusing forward, waiting with a squeezing heart on whatever he was about to say.

"When we fought side by side, it was effortless. It felt..." . She could grab her gun now, easily. Yet she didn’t, instead her face turned on its own. Meeting glistening brown eyes with apprehension.

“It felt right. Didn’t it?"

Did it?

They were both cornered, she remembers — strangers accidentally caught in the same problem at the same time. Alex knew then she couldn’t take them all on by herself; there were a dozen broad, strong men ready for the kill. She had to use Poindexter to survive.

And when they fought, she did what she did best — imitated his movements: a precise swing of the wrist, balanced feet, and a right hook here and there. In that large, desolate storage unit, just for one fight, they were one. She complemented his close encounters by moving to the back, throwing whatever she had in hand — hitting their knees, their hands — pushing forward only when his knives started flying through the air, piercing them between the eyes each time.

In the end, they were the last ones standing. At least Alex tried to keep herself upright. Although, with two bullets in her stomach and another in her left knee, it slowly became harder to do so. That’s where the favor came from. Poindexter took her in, treated her wounds, and helped her survive another day.

“It was out of survival,” Alex rationalized, pulling her arm out of his grasp. He let her. “Nothing more.”

In a blur, she reached her room, locked the door, and sat back down on the same spot at the end of her bed. Immediately grabbing her own arm, clutching it as tightly as Poindexter had, closing her eyes firmly, savoring the feeling just a little longer. Her chest tightened, her breath jagged and uneven, almost painful. His words collapsing her walls as easily as a blow could collapse a house of cards. It all fell down upon her — what she refused to recognise.

It had felt right.

When they fought together, when he tended her wounds in complete silence afterward, when he had grabbed her arm just then—his glistening brown eyes swallowing her whole. Begging her to admit it too.

Her hand left her arm as she startled at the harsh sound of the front door closing. He left as she had left him. Her breathing worsened. Goddamn it, Alex. She didn’t even know him. They had barely talked. He had been here for only two weeks.

And yet, in the last five years, he had been the only one who had ever touched her outside of a fight. Who had talked to her like a human being. The closest thing she ever had to a friend.

[souliebird]

[[soulie's masterlist]]

small intro: I am Soulie. 30+ NB they/them writer. I like comics , horror, and fashion. Tumblr is my happy place.

Daredevil:

and then I met you [matt murdock x reader]

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s while Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

Season one:

ch: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |

11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 |16 | 17 | 18 | 19 |

20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25

Season two:

ch: 26 | 27 | 28 | 29

30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35

Current tags:

coffee maker [matt murdrock x reader]

the coffee maker breaks

punish the wicked [matt murdock x reader]

the devil wants out

get low [matt murdock x ofc]

matt gets off early and he's not the only one

addict [matt murdock x reader]

your life revolves around matt. his doesn't revolve around you

Punisher

sugar skulls and altars [frank castle x ofc]

she makes him feel like Frank Castle

Kin (AMC)

last call for sinners [michael kinsella x reader]

The weight of the world feels like it is on Michael's shoulders and you are there to make sure he doesn't crumble under it

Batman

the man and then nothingness [tim drake]

He doesn’t want to be Nothing.

He runs and runs and runs and he doesn’t even know where he is going. Not until there is gravel under his feet and he’s flying past pristine hedges.

Wayne Manor is in front of him and Tim forces his legs to move Faster.

He knows he shouldn’t . He knows he shouldn’t - but between Nothing and Batman, Batman will probably win

---

Or: Tim Drake is 10 years old and really, really, needs an adult.

the multiverse series [tim drake x jason todd]

Jason Todd is traveling through the Multiverse and gets stuck in a world where he never died. He seeks out Tim Drake for help but this Tim is not what he expects at all.

A series of ficlets I wrote on Tumblr starting in 2015.

Random

winterwitch dog [bucky barnes x wanda maximoff]

some houses [ original work]

[jackofsometrade]

every single gay interaction between Wilson Fisk and James Wesley in season 1 of Daredevil

not enough people talk about how obviously in love these two are, so i rewatched the entire first season and took extensive notes regarding their homosexuality <3

episode 4:

Wesley’s eye literally twitching when Vladimir says Fisk’s name

Wesley taking his glasses off to speak to Fisk

“If the brothers can’t handle him, I’ll find another solution” *Wesley giggling*

the WAY Fisk stops Wesley from getting out of the car before meeting Vanessa

*whispering* “thank you, Wesley.” and then that little nod???

Wesley getting the blood of Wilson’s enemies on his face 🥰🥰🥰

Wesley handing Fisk his handkerchief to clean the blood off his face, not even thinking to clean the blood off his own face first

episode 5:

“He practically kissed me when we came to terms. He have a girl—or a boy—who he could be celebrating with?” (James Wesley, gay icon, appreciating the Russian queers)

Wesley framed so he’s always off Fisk’s shoulder and almost never out of the picture

Wesley calming Fisk’s nerves about the police killing the Russians

Wesley giving Fisk the name of his favorite wine and smiling when Fisk thanks him, but his smile dropping immediately when Fisk gets out of the car for his date (he wants to drink that wine with Fisk so fucking bad 😪)

Fisk tells Vanessa that Wesley picked the wine

“Wesley is more than my assistant… he’s my friend.” 🤨🤨🤨 (certainly not how I would have presented that information)

“Vlady did offer a cool mil to give up your boy.” (YOUR boy???? why is he Wesley’s???)

episode 6:

Wesley taking his glasses off AGAIN to speak to Fisk

“Problems are just opportunities that haven’t presented themselves.” and then Wesley’s little giggle? i’m gonna need the story behind that little line because Fisk has definitely used it on him before

the way the only time Fisk looks Wesley dead in the eye is when he’s most desperate?

I also just wanna point out that there are always three cars for safety purposes (much like they separate the president and first lady and vice president in vehicle processions to prevent all of them dying) but Fisk and Wesley ALWAYS ride in the same car. which one of them is protecting the other? how can either of them be sure that, if they’re attacked, they’ll both be okay? why does Fisk insist on having Wesley in the same car as him?

episode 7:

where tf are the gay people at ⁉️

Stick, i hate u so much

episode 8:

Wesley editing everything Nobu says to avoid offending Fisk

Wesley clenching his jaw when Fisk apologizes to Nobu and then glaring at Nobu for the rest of the conversation

AGAIN!!! Wesley takes his glasses off the second he’s alone with Fisk and relaxing against the table (only letting his guard down and relaxing around him)

Fisk allowing Wesley to disagree and argue and genuinely taking his opinion into account

“I just… I don’t like the way he speaks to you that’s all.” (and then Fisk steps closer to him)

Fisk hangs up on Vanessa to talk to Wesley (i know it’s a business call but we all know Fisk hates to be interrupted when it comes to her yet he allows Wesley to)

why tf is Wesley posing behind Hoffman while Fisk talks to him 🤨

Wesley just likes to watch Fisk work 🤞

Fisk stands up when Wesley walks in a room like he’s a beautiful lady

I’m really curious about the conversation that led to Wesley translating for Fisk despite knowing Fisk can understand Gao

Wesley’s annoyance at not being useful anymore when Gao makes Fisk speak Mandarin he’s so silly

Gao tells Wesley to leave but he doesn’t move a muscle until Fisk tells him it’s okay

Wesley comes running SO quick when Fisk flips the table and hesitates to leave Fisk alone

“I didn’t call you.” “No, I just thought you might need something.”

“If I needed something, I would have asked.” “I don’t think that’s always true, sir.”

AND THEN VANESSA WALKS IN????

and Wesley looks between Vanessa and Fisk and lets Vanessa send him away???? like he is willing to do literally anything, at the expense of his happiness and pride in his ability to fix things for Fisk, to make sure Wilson is happy and taken care of i’m SICK

“He’s worried about you.” Vanessa read their tea

Wesley being on TV w Fisk. very married. very domestic

episode 9:

gay little ipad

Fisk moving to stand behind Wesley when Nobu approaches and Wesley (all 45 pounds of him) automatically guards him with his body

Wesley watches Fisk’s face while Nobu talks to guess what Fisk wants done

“Possessed of determination and unusual talents.” (while looking dead at Wesley like what was that)

“Emotion can turn the most circumspect of men careless.” (let’s go ahead and think about what exactly leads to Wesley’s death)

episode 10:

this episode makes me actually violent but i’m gonna sit thru it anyway

Wesley doing up Wilson’s bow tie even tho we all know he can do it himself

looking up at Wilson while tying it 🙄🙄

bullying Leland so bad Wilson basically yanks on his leash and asks him to leave 🙏

it’s the WAY Wesley watches Fisk while he gives his speech and the fact that they chose to show him last and not Vanessa

Fisk looking back at Wesley after Leland says “it’s taken care of” and Wesley nodding reassuringly

when people start collapsing Fisk moves straight for Wesley and Vanessa and he speaks to Wesley FIRST

episode 11:

Wesley speaking for Fisk when they enter the hospital

placing a hand on Fisk’s back to talk to him and let him know the doctor is on his way

Wesley getting super defensive when Leland insinuates Fisk can’t run things anymore

Wesley turning and just staring at Fisk after learning the other people poisoned died

“She’ll make it. Because she has to.” (he wants Fisk to be happy soooo bad it’s humiliating)

also his ability to maintain the hierarchy and run the business when Wilson isn’t able to??? that’s his WIFE bro i love him

Wesley comes in with one coffee in his hand, offers it to Fisk, and then just drinks it himself. what’s the goal??? were you gonna share???

once again, Wesley going out of his way to reassure Wilson that everything is going to be okay

“Until we know for certain, I suspect everyone.” (Wesley determined to get Fisk his revenge and essentially telling Fisk he can only trust him.)

“This wasn’t your fault.” (that reassurance that he’s so good at)

“I doubt she would want that.” (Wesley saying this in response to Fisk deciding to send Vanessa away. he is 100% speaking for himself and not for her. he is putting himself in Vanessa’s shoes every chance he gets (see: wine in episode 5), and he knows he would never leave Wilson’s side)

“We seldom get everything we want…not in this world.” “But… some of us deserve to.” (i am pulling my hair out)

Fisk making Wesley handle the funds himself because he also knows he can only trust Wesley

JESUS CHRSIT Fisk looks at Wesley for the first time in the convo and goes “I…” and then LOOKS HIM UP AND DOWN before just thanking him

Wesley’s face during that pause, so obviously expecting Wilson to say what he wants to hear

the smile and nod when he gets thanked and then his FACE when Wilson walks away from him to see the doctor

the way he just watches Wilson, only relaxing when Wilson relaxes, sighing to himself as he accepts that Vanessa is the one who will make Fisk happy. not him.

Wesley hangs up the phone immediately to check on Wilson when he comes out of Vanessa’s room

i am going to go ahead and point out that Wesley is the only person Wilson ever introduced to his mother 😪 and she is actually able to remember who he is which implies he’s been around her multiple times

in lieu of bothering Wilson with his mother’s situation, he decides to just kill someone for him which we have NEVER seen him do and it’s never even implied to be something he’s done before

also leaving behind any security at the hospital to make sure Wilson is safe when he’s about to risk his life improving Wilson’s situation

“Growing to love something is just simply forgetting what you dislike about it.” (hello???)

“I’m not here because I want to be. I’m here because I’m needed.” (oh my god we get it)

“He loves this city.” (and Wesley loves him)

Fisk immediately asking where Wesley is when he leaves Vanessa’s room

Wesley’s downfall being his instinct to immediately answer Fisk’s call 😕

(go karen go!!)

(no wesley no!!)

rip James literally not a single person will ever fill your shoes

Fisk becoming immediately concerned that Wesley doesn’t pick up the phone

episode 12:

Karen did absolutely nothing wrong i just wish it wasn’t Wesley

Fisk’s FACE when Francis says “they’ve located him”

not being able to approach the body

“Look what they did to him.”

“And you let him leave? Alone?”

Francis’ explanation for no one leaving with Wilson just simply not being good enough for Wilson

Wilson beats the shit out of Francis just out of anger that no one was there for Wesley when he needed it

Wilson sitting next to Wesley and looking at him longer than he ever looked at him while he was alive

holding Wesley’s hand on his lap and stroking his hand and staring at his hand

STROKING WESLEY’S HAIR (genuinely the most gentle we’ve ever seen him with anyone)

KISSING HIM????????????????

somehow knowing exactly where on his person Wesley keeps his phone

letting Wesley’s hand rest on his lap while he checks the phone

“Have you thought anymore about my… friend. Wesley?” (where’s the pause coming from my guy?)

“James! Such a handsome boy.” (and Wilson smiling and nodding at the description????????)

Wilson deciding to continue to trust Francis because Wesley trusted him and “that’s all that matters.”

rip james i miss u so bad 💔💔