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#netflix daredevil
theautomattic · 16 hours
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Matt Murdock in the black suit:
Me: FLATLINING 😵‍💫
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Matt Murdock in the black suit unmasked:
Me: DEAD 😵
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riverthebooknerd · 3 days
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i feel like all the mcu fans who haven't watched the daredevil show seem to think that he's just. a fucking mentally stable dude? a badass vigilante who is definitely not fucked up in the head? and i cannot stress how incorrect that is /aff
you. yes, you, the mcu fanfic writer who thinks that matthew micheal murdock has his shit together. i am grabbing you by the shoulders. you see that smile of his? that cocky little lawyer smirk that says, "i am so put together and sexy and my life is great"?
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this one? it's a fucking lie (minus the sexy part)
underneath that suit he has 12 fractured ribs 7 punctured lungs 18 ruptured spleens, he's mentally straining under the weight of his enormous catholic guilt, he's ghosting 15 nurses who genuinely just don't want him to fucking die, he's in love with his best friend, he has 9 court cases the next day, he hasn't slept in 378 hours, he's running on 26 solid cups of coffee and cheap chinese takeout, he's hallucinating his dead dad, and he's probably debating murder and/or sewerslide.
this man may be an absolute slut, manboss manwhore murdock if you will, but do NOT mistake him for someone with his shit together. please, for the love of god. if he has his shit together in the new daredevil show coming out this year, i will genuinely be shocked.
this post has been brought to you by Dear God, Give My Favorite Blorbo His Fucking Horrors
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narcatsisst · 3 days
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something that i think is really funny about matt murdock is how obvious it is that he's daredevil, but since he's blind, no one suspects him. if he wasn't blind everyone would know by now. it's right in your face. even karen has her suspicions about matt but foggy claims matt is an alcoholic or something and karen goes along with it, because what else would it be? the blind attorney she works with is also the devil of hell's kitchen? that's bogus.
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theimpalatales · 1 day
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samnotsammy12 · 4 months
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this comment on a daredevil edit is taking me out
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blissful-thinker · 1 year
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Matt Murdock’s little :[ frown has Kermit face scrunch energy, don’t change my mind about this
Bonus pictures with same energy:
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[ID in alt text]
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muttmurdock · 3 months
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gleafer · 2 months
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Oh my LORT, I love Charlie Cox as Matt Murdock.
I was never a Daredevil fan because he was too stiff-upper lipped like Batman. UNTIL, Charlie Cox came around and he ATE.
The self-destructive JOY that would grace his face right before he dove head first into a mob beat down sent me to Nerd Girl heaven!
This is my comfort food.
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saberlight1 · 3 months
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pretty boy — matt murdock
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pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader.
warnings: language, fluff, established relationship, standard daredevil warnings.
authors note: hiii! since rewatching daredevil, my matt and frank obsession has been back up n running (not that i’m complaining). and this is based on this request, thank you anon <3. i love this little fluffy fic, i hope you enjoy this!
masterlist
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You watched the snowflakes fall with a calm smile on your face. You had always adored this time of year, especially when it snowed. It was just something about how the never ending buzzing of Hell’s Kitchen would just stop for a moment— just peace and quiet. It never failed to calm your nerves, whatever worries that were on your mind washing away with the snow hitting the ground.
You were sat on your boyfriend’s couch wrapped up in a blanket with a book in your hand, soaking in the tranquility that this type of weather brought you. Matt’s apartment was always one of your favorite places— it was always so quiet and the big, open windows granted you a sight to Hell’s Kitchen. Even with the bright build-board right outside, you still loved it. Most of all, you loved it because it was his. Everything in the apartment reminded you of Matt, thats why you spent as much time as possible here.
“Sweetheart?” Matt’s call broke you from your thoughts, and your heart swelled at his voice. You stood up immediately, walking over to where he was kicking off his shoes and jacket by the door.
“Hi, baby,” You smiled, your hands coming up to rest on his shoulders as his hands wrapped around your waist, drawing you closer.
“Hi,” He whispered as you took off his sunglasses. The second the lenses were off his eyes, the man brought his lips to yours.
Your smile only grew against his lips as you dug one of your hands into his hair— the man before you only growing more greedy against your lips.
You pulled back for air, a teasing look on your features. Matt may not have sight, but he could always tell when that look crossed your face. “Someone missed me, huh?” You cheekily teased.
His cold hands dove under the material of your— his shirt, causing a yelp to leave your lips as you attempted to get away from him.
He smiled brightly at you. “Of course I missed you,” His cold hands only traveled further up your back, and you knew the sneaky fucker could probably hear the goosebumps rising on your skin.
“Stop!” You giggled, trying to fight your way out of his arms, but you knew it was fruitless.
“Okay, okay,” He chuckled, relenting his cold hands from your warm skin. “‘m sorry, you’re just warm and it was fuckin’ freezing out there.”
You playfully rolled your eyes, your hands grabbing his own from your hips and wrapping them within your own in an attempt to warm them up. “I told you that this morning. Just because you’re the big, bad Daredevil doesn’t mean you don’t get cold, my love.” You joked, interlacing your fingers and leading him to your shared room.
He rolled his own eyes with a smile at your remark, you never failed to tease him for his vigilante ways— even when he came to you half dead and you had to patch him up, you still found a way to crack a joke to see his smile.
“Here,” You turned to him with a hoodie and sweatpants in your hands. “Get out of that suit so we can cuddle on the couch.” You left a kiss on his lips before turning on your heel and walking towards the kitchen.
Matt shook his head with a laugh, but did as he was told regardless. Once he was settled, he made his way towards where you were in the kitchen. You smiled softly when you felt his chest against your back and his arms slither around your waist. You leaned your head back onto his shoulder as he left small kisses along your neck.
“Hot chocolate, huh?” He murmured against your neck.
You rolled your eyes playfully at his use of his senses. “Yep, might help you warm up, Frozone.” You joked.
“I know you did not just compare me to that dude from Incredibles.” He scoffed, feigning offensiveness.
You giggled. “How do you even know that?”
“Honey, my ears still work.” He pinched your hip lightly. “When that movie came out all the kids at the orphanage loved it. Had to hear it at least three times a day,”
You grimaced at the thought. “That must’ve been torture, havin’ to constantly hear the plot of that movie.”
“It was.” He agreed.
“Don’t tell me you hate that movie, though.” You looked at him from over your shoulder, holding up a finger. “‘Cause that was my favorite Disney movie for a while..”
He started tickling you immediately, a loud squeal leaving your lips. “Oh, my girl has a basic taste in Disney movies?” He teased with a smile, talking slightly loud over your laughter. “Who would’ve thought?”
“Matthew!” You wheezed out, thrashing in his grip. He finally relented as you laid against him while you attempted to catch your breath. “Didn’t know you were so passionate about my taste..”
“Well, I gotta let you know if it’s a basic one.” He shrugged, a smirk on his lips.
“If it’s so basic, then how’d I pick you?” You bit back with raised brows.
A breathy chuckle escaped him, before he paused to lick his lips. “Fair play, honey.”
You only smiled in return, turning back to pour the pair of you a mug of hot chocolate. Matt let his eyes flutter shut behind you, resting his head in the crook of your neck as he relaxed to the sounds of just simply: you.
You smiled when you noticed what he was doing, one of your hands coming up to scratch his scalp. “It’s ready,” You softly said.
He pulled away from you to grab his mug. “Thank you, baby.” He left a kiss to the side of your head before wrapping an arm around your waist and leading you to the couch.
He placed both of your cups on the coffee table before lying down and dragging you into his chest, yet another yelp leaving your lips.
Your chin rested on his chest as you looked at him with questioning eyes.
“What?” He laughed. “I told you I missed you,”
You only smiled, leaning up slightly to bring your lips together. His hand immediately shot up to cup your jaw, the man also leaning up to deepen it. You’d never get tired of the way his lips chased yours, and how passionately he kissed you every time.
You pulled back for air, but not before leaving a couple small pecks to his lips.
“I love you.” He whispered.
“I love you, Matt.” You whispered back, leaving one last kiss to his lips before digging your head into the crook of his neck— the hot chocolate being long forgotten.
But in all honesty, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were perfectly fine just as you were, wrapped up in your lover’s arms during a snowstorm.
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chasing-the-storm · 3 months
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Men who cover women with themselves in times of danger are priceless Daredevil Season 2
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unredact3d · 25 days
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this leak goes hard
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theautomattic · 15 days
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Still the most insanely beautiful set of pictures, Matt Murdock in pain is one of the prettiest a man has ever looked on TV
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petertingle-yipyip · 17 days
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DONT BE A FOOL - MATT MURDOCK
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Pairing: matt x wife!reader
Word Count: 2, 156
Summary: After a very tense argument about a misused name, your apologetic husband ends up getting looped in by your students.
//follow-up to three empty words but can probably be read on its own//
The next morning, you refused to dilly dally your morning routine. Your shower was quick, your hair and makeup remained simple. Even your outfit was more or less the first thing you grabbed from your closet. You gathered all of your papers - which you hadn’t gotten around to grading the night before - and your laptop before Matt’s alarm had even gone off.
You skipped making breakfast, deciding to stop at a coffee shop on the way to work instead, and hustled out the door. You ignored the still sleeping figure of Elektra on your couch even though your brain wanted to soak her with cold water and kick her out. You did slam the door on your way out but that was just to satisfy your own anger.
You walked into your classroom and let out a loud sigh as you dropped into your deskchair. You were thankful to be out of the house, in your own space for the time being. As you began grading the papers and piling them according to the hours, your mind wandered back to the night before. You wondered if Elektra would be out of your apartment when you got back. You wondered if Matt would tell Foggy and Karen that you two got into a fight last night. You then found yourself wondering if Matt was actually going to go to work that morning.
You realized you were staring blankly at the student’s worksheet in front of you so you shook the thoughts and focused on the daunting stacks before you.
Most of the hours were business as usual. Your normal rowdy students were a bit extra, but that might’ve been due to your already grated nerves more than their own behaviors. It wasn’t until the hour before lunch that you found some of your students more huddled and secretive than usual.
“What are you doing in the corner?” You called, peaking over your computer at the small group. “There’s, what, five minutes till the bell?”
“Mrs. Murdock, what’s your husband’s name?” One of the girls, Liv, asked with an innocent expression. The same one she gave you when she explained her lacking assignments.
“Matthew.” You titled down your screen to see them better. “Why?”
“What does he do again?”
“Lawyer. Why?”
“Is he handsome?” Another girl, Nicole, asked with wiggling eyebrows.
You had to refrain from rolling your eyes at your middle schoolers.
“Yes, very.” You smiled slightly. “I wouldn’t have married him if he wasn’t.”
“And if he’s a lawyer, he’s gotta be smart, right?”
“Again, very. He went to Columbia.”
“So like… Is he why you’re so sad today?” Blake, the only boy in the group, chimed in with a nonchalant shrug.
“Guys.” You frowned slightly. “I’m not sure what you’re doing, but I’m not sad. Me and Mr. Murdock are fine. We’re happily married. And you should be worried about your own relationship drama, not mine.”
“So you admit there’s drama?” Nicole countered quickly.
“Between Blake and Emmy? Yes.” You nodded and Emmy’s jaw dropped while her friends poked her teasingly. “Between me and Mr. Murdock, no.”
“Mhmm.. So why is the photo face down?”
“What?”
“The photo by your computer.” She came across the room and lifted the frame near your laptop that was in fact, face down. “You told us on the first day that this was one your favorite photos and you have it on it’s face… There’s drama, Mrs. Murdock.”
“You’re very observant, Nicole. Thank you.” You said flatly as you took the frame from her hands and set it in it’s rightful position. “I must’ve knocked it over when I was trying to find you and Liv’s missing portfolio project.” “You can’t deflect, Mrs. M.” Liv added from across the room. “It’s all over your face.”
“Y’know what.” You announced, standing from your desk. “The bell rings in less than two minutes. You guys can all go to lunch early.”
A chorus of questions arose while you heard the door being pushed open.
“They can’t write you all up.” You shrugged and dropped back in your chair while the meddling group made their way into the hall.
The girls continued to whisper to themselves and glanced back at you, to which you shooed them away. When you were finally alone in your classroom, you let out a heavy sigh and rubbed a hand over your eyes.
Usually, you adored having open communication with your students because that meant they trusted you. But at the same time, that meant they felt entitled to know your life story whether you like it or not. The bell echoed in your ears so you spun your chair to the small fridge under your desk that held your lunch.
You clicked play on a playlist from your laptop and began eating your lunch, typing away to enter in grades. You knew you should just do nothing, scroll mindlessly on your social medias instead or maybe even call Foggy to ensure Matt made it to work, but the busy work for your eyes, head, and hands felt better. Plus, you weren’t exactly sure what you would’ve said that could’ve gotten your question answered without being a dead giveaway. So you kept working instead.
“MRS. MURDOCK!” Liv nearly yelled as she burst through your door, maybe halfway through the lunch hour. “OHMYGODYOULLNEVERBELIEVE-”
“Liv!” You said in shock, nearly dropping your water bottle. “What is going on? Is everything okay?”
“Look at this!” She hurried across and showed you her phone screen. Oddly enough, it was a photo of the back of a man exiting a taxi. What stood out to you was the white cane in his hand.
“It’s a guy getting out a cab.” You tried to reason, gently pushing her phone away. “That’s what you ran in here to tell me?”
“But he’s blind!”
“So it seems.”
“Don’t you know what this means?” She insisted with a small stomp.
You simply shrugged and raised your brows.
“It’s Mr. Murdock! He came to apologize!”
“Liv, I appreciate your concern for my marriage but we’re fine, okay? It’s not like he and I are heading towards a divorce. We’re just in a bit of an argument. It’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure? Because I’ve never seen you so…” She gestured vaguely to you.
“Yes, I’m sure. Now go back to your lunch, please. I have to finish these.”
“But-”
“No.”
“Mrs. M, just-”
“Liv, boundaries, please.”
“Just listen!”
“No.” You said firmly. “Go back to your lunch.”
She huffed slightly but retreated to the door. As she was heading out, she nearly ran into one of the monitors.
“Sorry to intrude, Y/N.” The monitor said as she popped her head in. “I have a visitor for you.”
“Another one of my kids being a problem?” You sighed and wheeled yourself a bit further from your desk. “Send ‘em in. They can sit in the corner till next class.”
“Actually, I think you’ll be glad to see this one.” She smiled knowingly and reached for something outside the doorframe.
Before you could voice another question, she ushered Matt through the door. He said his usual thanks for being guided and the monitor gave you an approving nod and thumbs up. She mouthed a very not subtle ‘He’s very handsome’. You smiled awkwardly in agreement but once the door closed, you rolled your eyes and went back to your gradebook.
“Could’ve called.” You said simply.
“I didn’t think you would answer.” Matt replied honestly.
“Probably wouldn’t have… Shouldn’t you be at work?”
“I couldn’t focus.”
You heard the clicks of him folding his cane as he wandered around your classroom. You peaked up to watch him manueaver the desks with such ease that for a split second, you forgot he was blind. You watched him run his fingers along the bulletin board you had on one wall, leading into the standards and other required signage you had up.
“Did she leave?” You asked and returned to your prior task. You knew if you watched him for too long, he’d know and he’d show you that stupid lopsided smirk that he did.
“She was still pretty weak when I left.” He said and there was a slight sadness in his voice. Though if someone asked if it was for Elektra or your argument, you wouldn’t have been able to say. “But I did ask Stick to find somewhere else to take her to recover if she can’t leave on her own by the time someone gets home.”
“Chivalrous.” You made a face behind your computer screen. “You didn’t have to come all the way here to tell me that.”
He sighed slightly and you mumbled a short complaint to yourself before scooting away from your desk and spinning in your chair to face him, just as he appeared at your side. You folded your hands over your stomach and leaned back in your chair, giving an exaggerated sigh and nod for him to talk.
“Y/N, last night, I said something I shouldn’t have.” He began carefully, as if he was following a carefully rehearsed speech. For all you knew, he had rehearsed it with Foggy that morning before he showed up. “I let Stick push me and I just said the first thing that came to mind.”
“But she shouldn’t be the first thing, right?” You said softly with a small shrug. “Stick shouldn’t be able to push you into saying that, whether you meant it or not.”
“You’re right.” He admitted and your brows went up slightly. “I shouldn’t have said that. You are the only woman that I want to be with. I married you, without any hesitation. I never had second thoughts or second thoughts or anything. You, Y/N Murdock, have my heart.”
You nodded slowly but said nothing as you stood. You crossed your arms and looked up at him, him offering a hopeful expression in return. You broke into a small smile and nudged him with your shoulder before moving past him. He followed you almost instantly and you took him to the wall on the other side of your desk near the window.
“The kids started calling this the Sweetheart’s Spotlight.” You said quietly with a small smile. “They keep a polaroid camera in one of the cubbies and every Friday, they rearrange the couples in order of their favorites… They made me put a photo of us on here, too.”
“Where do we rank?” He smiled slightly.
“We’ve been number one since it started.” You laughed. “They tell me that you’re the best by default since I’m their favorite teacher.”
“Lucky me.”
“You know I’m still upset, right?” You said carefully when the air was too light between you two.
“I know.” He nodded. “I can hear it in your voice.”
“But I also don’t want to hold onto this fight. So here’s an idea. Elektra’s out of the apartment today. You two finish whatever crusade you’re on. You make sure you don’t get yourself killed. She leaves New York and it’s all put to bed.”
“Consider it done.” He nodded. “And I know better than to get myself killed. I’ve got it too good to die.”
“Yeah because then I’m a widow and there’s not much life insurance to cash in on.” You joked as the lunch bell rang.
“I should get going.” He nodded before gently taking your hand. “I love you. So much.”
“I love you too.” You said softly as your students started filing in.
“OHMYGOD.” One of your students yelled and you closed your eyes tightly, quietly groaning in embarrassment. “IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS?”
“Yes, Luna.” You said, feeling the blush across your cheeks. “This is Mr. Murdock and he’s leaving.”
You pulled Matt towards the door as he laughed. Your kids yelled questions that you tried to ignore until Matt stopped, pulling you to stop with him.
“It’s career week!” One of the boys yelled. More so a demand.
“I’m aware, Jack.” You nodded. “What does that have to do with this?”
“He’s not here to talk to us about lawyers?” The boy’s head cocked as he asked his question.
“That’s exactly why I’m here.” Matt grinned and you groaned again. “Let’s give Mrs. Murdock a break, right?”
“You’re so dead.” You threatened quietly with a laugh before heading back to your chair. 
“Okay, kids.” You announced. “He’s blind and can’t write. I’m not getting up. Take your own notes and keep your questions relevant to his career, okay?”
“Yes, Mrs. Murdock.” They all answered.
“All yours, Mr. Murdock.” You gestured before returning to grading and the personal questions started flying.
“How did you guys meet?!”
“What’s her favorite color?!”
“Did you see the wall?!” “He can’t see!”
“Are they always this rowdy?” He asked you with a slight laugh.
“You’re new and exciting.” You shrugged. “Take it as a compliment.”
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yarrystyleeza · 3 months
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New favorite genre of pictures: Charlie Cox and his SFX shots
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The last one sends me to places.
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goldenlikedayl1ght · 5 months
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born to die - m. murdock
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a/n: IM NOT DEAD i am very busy with finals but this has been rattling around the old noggin for a while now. i took a lot of inspiration from @ellephlox 's fic strawberry rhubarb which i 100% reccomend bc its better than most fics including this one! hope you enjoy! as always reblogs and comments are always appreciated! <3 warnings: oh boy. torture (cutting, burning) some sexually suggestive talk (nothing happens but it's not consensual) readers dad abused her, nightmares, lots of major character death (but not permeant) ANGST!!! but with a happy ending! kidnapping, medical stuff, cursing, and if i missed anything, let me know! word count: 4.8k summary: as matt murdock's wife, your life is rather full of surprises. getting kidnapped by wilson fisk takes the cake as the worst one. pairing: matt murdock x wife!reader now playing: born to die - lana del rey "choose your last words, this is the last time/'cause you and i, we were born to die"
You would think after patching him up too many times to count, five years without him, and countless sleepless nights worrying if he was alive, you would think you’d be used to Matt Murdock and his world of surprises.
And then you get kidnapped, so maybe you’re not so immune to surprises.
It’s really such a shame too, because you’re storming out of the apartment, too angry to take notice of your surroundings.
Silly, foolish, ditzy you.
Because it isn’t like Matt hasn’t told you time and time again that you need to be careful, especially when you go out alone at night. But he’s so angry that he doesn’t even think about the potential dangers of Hell’s Kitchen at three a.m. when Daredevil has been tucked away for the night and Matt Murdock comes back out to play.
He’s been taking more and more patrols because with Fisk being out of prison he can’t help but be constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.
How silly he was to think that maybe he could have it all—A successful law firm, good friends and a loving wife.
Silly, foolish, ditzy Matt.
But after a week of nonstop patrols, you’re both fed up and tired, and above all, you’re yearning for each other. Neither of you allow yourselves to be totally happy all the time. It would just make everything too easy.
So, after yelling at each other over, what? Patrols? Cases? Burnt dinners? You’re freezing on the streets, and you get about five blocks before you stop and rub your eyes.
This is dumb, you rationalize. Of course, you’re both stressed out and tired, but you’ve gotten through rougher times before, and you both made an oath. To each other, in front of his God, to love each other no matter what.
You realize you left your wedding ring on the table, the ghost of the metal around your finger haunting you. You were dumb for leaving and Matt was dumb for telling you to go. You’re made for each other.
You turn around to go back to your shared apartment, and then, someone grabs you from behind. Your first instinct is to yell for your husband, but you don’t get the chance to before you’re knocked out, by what you can only guess to be a gun or maybe a large fist.
• • •
You wake up in this dingy room, the lighting not suitable for much of anything except to make you afraid. The set up is almost comical and in a fucked up away, stereotypical for a kidnapping. You’re tied up to a chair, and the lights shine only bright enough so you can see shadows and rats scurrying along.
The air is this weird musk of salt and earth, and you realize you’re near the docks, and that’s about all you know about your current location.
Your head is still pounding from whatever it was you were hit with, but you can see another chair a few feet from you and a wooden table with various weapons laying on it. You don’t feel good about this one. Also on the table is an old school record player. You have no idea what the intention is with it.
You try to keep your cool, knowing that wherever you wander, your husband will not be very far off. That whatever is happening, he will be coming to find you no matter how upset he is for whatever it was you were fighting about earlier.
And then, out of the shadows, there he is. 
But he’s too big to be Matt, and he has a man standing next to him.
Frank, maybe?
And then you realize who this man is.
He’s Wilson Fisk, the kingpin who has done nothing but torture and kill people, shoving it in Matt’s face for years. Matt only met you after Fisk was put back in prison, and you know at some point in the five-year blip without Matt, he had escaped prison.
So, this is the first time you’ve had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Fisk. When he meets your eye, you do nothing but stare.
“Good evening, Mrs. Murdock. It’s a shame we must meet under these circumstances.” He tells you, taking a seat in front of you. His henchman stands behind the chair.
“It’s regretful to say the least.” You tell him, not intending to make any more of an enemy out of him than Matt already has, not right now.
“I wanted to congratulate you on your wedding. I remember my own, it was a rather special day.”
You know that was the day Matt took him down. The night that he, Karen and Foggy took him down.
“I’ve heard stories. It seemed like a lovely day.”
“You’re a much more gracious guest than your counterpart.”
“Well, I’m sure people say similar things about you and yours.”
He seems to consider this for a moment before nodding.
“You’re probably right about that, Mrs. Murdock. I wanted to tell you I’m terribly sorry these are the circumstances in which we are finally introduced. But it seems Mr. Murdock has been interested in finding out more about my endeavors. And you see, we simply cannot have that. I made a promise not to hurt Miss Page or Mr. Nelson but it seems you were not included in that deal.” Of course not, it had been a long time before you showed up. “So, you’re how we’re going to send Mr. Murdock a message.”
Huh.
So, this is how you die.
Well, you might as well go out with a bang.
“You see, Mrs. Murdock, When I was a boy—”
“I’m going to stop you, Mr. Fisk, because your sob story is rather dull. I know who you are. You were beaten by your father, just like I was. The difference is that I don’t use that as an excuse to murder my way to the top of the food chain. And you can torture me, assault me, whatever you feel you need to do. But if you think for a second that I’ll forget who’s coming to stop you, you are sorely mistaken. And if you think he’ll ever stop trying to find me, you do not know my husband very well.”
Fisk stares at you for a while, his gaze hardening into a glare.
“You’re right. You do know who I am. Because we’re rather similar.” He stands up and nods to the man nearby. “If Murdock can hear her far from here, make sure he hears her screaming.”
Then Wilson Fisk walks away, and you are left with the sickening gaze of a man who has no good intentions.
 The man goes to the record player and starts to play a song you recognize quickly as “Fly Me To The Moon” by Frank Sinatra. As he does this, he speaks,
“Hello, Mrs. Murdock. I’m John.” You stay quiet, and he just enjoys the song.
He picks up a knife from the table and goes to you, this grin on his face that makes you sick.
But you remember a trick from not only your childhood, but also from Frank who told you the key to remaining strong under torture—Distraction.
You stare straight ahead, trying not to mind as the man runs the knife over your skin. You think about Matt. You imagine him in his wedding suit, the smile he had on as you approached him down that aisle. You think about when he asked you to marry him, and—
A sharp pain slashes down your arm, cutting open the shirt you’re wearing. You yell in pain, before moving in to try and take deep breaths.
You can do this. Matt will be here soon.
You continue to breathe through the anxiety and the pain, trying not to think too hard about when John hums along to Sinatra’s voice, guiding his knife around your skin. Another cut finds itself on your shoulder.
This goes on for a while, with the classic song looping over and over again. John never seems to tire of it, no matter how badly you will for it to end. As the song ends in one particularly good loop, John hits your face hard, and your nose starts bleeding.
You try to think of Matt’s voice. You don’t listen to John’s torments, knowing it will only egg him on further. You just want him to burn at that point.
By the end of… Countless Frank Sinatra serenades, you have cuts littered around your body, dry blood on your face from your nose and tears running down your face. When he’s eventually done, two men cut you out from the chair and drag you along to a smaller, darker room. You are left in there with a small meal, and you just huddle against a corner, nearest a barred window out of your reach.
And then, you begin to speak for the first time since you saw Fisk.
“Matt,” You whisper, “I’m by the docks.” You tell him, not sure if he can even hear you. “Please, I’m sorry for everything, please just come find me..” You mumble, too tired and aching to try and do more.
• • •
The next day, or what you presume to be the next day since you have no way to tell how much time has passed, you’re woken up by a loud banging on the door of your.. cell..?
The same two men enter and drag you back to the room, where John waits for you.
“How are you feeling today, Mrs. Murdock?” He asks.
You glare.
“Fuck you.”
He laughs and shakes his head.
“What happened to the polite young woman Mr. Fisk and I met yesterday?”
You’re filled with unprecedented anger.
“I said, Fuck you!”
He wastes no time, grabbing a lighter off the table and starting the record player again. Once more, Frank Sinatra’s voice fills the room, and you’re pretty sure once you’re done with John, and then Fisk, you’ll bring Sinatra back from the dead just to kill him again.
You’ve never really been a violent person, but you suspect that it lives in the worst parts of you, just as it did with your own father. You’re much better at keeping it all at bay. Besides, it does you no good to be violent while you have Matt. He’s plenty angry for the both of you.
Oh, Matt..
This is how time passes for you. While John tortures you, burning you or carving into your skin, you think about how great it will be to choke the life out of the singer… And you think about Matt. When you’re in your dark little room, you talk to him. Even if he can’t hear you, you must hope that he’s looking for you.
• • •
Days pass. How long have you been here?
One night, you have the following dream:
It starts out as a memory. A memory of you and Matt. You’re lying in bed with him, and the sunlight is hitting his face just right. You love this memory, it’s one you recall often. He just has this angelic look to him.
Yeah, most people who encounter him, especially at night, meet the devil. But occasionally, you get glimpses of the angel you know he is. He’s sleeping, and you think in this state, he is the most relaxed you’ll ever see him.
Then, before your eyes, the dream shifts and you’re in this black void, on the ground.
Foggy, Karen, Frank, and Matt stand around you. You run to Matt but hit a clear shield keeping him from you. You bang on the glass, well, maybe it’s glass, you don’t know. You try to scream, but your voice never reaches your ears. You begin to look around, looking for a way out.
An eerie version of ‘Fly Me To The Moon’ plays as you glance over to Foggy and watch in horror as his body begins to turn to ash, just like Matt and Karen did when they were blipped. You scream, banging against the shield, but your screams are silent.
You glance back and see the same thing happening to Frank. No, no, no! It was never supposed to happen this way! Frank and Foggy, they lived! They got their time! They don’t die like this!
And then Karen starts too. You start sobbing, not wanting her to go. You had missed her so much, and you only just got her back. But soon enough, she’s gone too, and you’re left in front of your husband.
His hand comes up to rest on the forcefield and he frowns softly.
He says your name gently, and then adds, “You know it couldn’t last forever, right?”
And then just as quickly as before, he is gone again. You remain there in that void, sobbing and screaming though no noise reaches you. This can’t be it! You just got him back, you needed him! You couldn’t take being alone for another five years… Or more…
The dream transforms and you’re in this grand ballroom. People are dancing elegantly and you’re in this.. obnoxious ball gown. But across the room, you can see Matt. He’s dressed in an all-black suit, with a red masquerade mask covering his face. The mask has little red devil horns on it.
Now, the orchestra plays their rendition of Sinatra’s romantic classic. And you step towards Matt, attempting to make your way towards him, only to be met with a masked man, beginning to twirl you around.
You jump from man to man, until eventually, you’re dancing with a man in an all-white suit, a man you quickly recognize as Fisk. No matter how hard you try to escape his grasp, he holds on tighter. The two of you stop dancing now, amid the crowd of moving bodies.
Fisk grabs your chin and tilts it in Matt’s direction, just in time for you to see him bowing to another woman, kissing the back of her hand. Your eyes widen and you think, this can’t be real.
“When I kill you,” Fisk says, “He’ll move on. You’re easily replaceable, Mrs. Murdock.”
And then, in an instant, the woman with Matt pulls out a dagger and plunges it deeply into his abdomen. It’s then that the other dancers, besides you, Fisk, Matt, and this mystery woman, disappear. Matt turns to you and falls to his knees, clutching his stomach.
He tries to crawl to you, blood seeping onto his hands and the beautiful ballroom floor. He yells your name, and the woman stabs him again from behind, and you watch as your husband dies. You hear him screaming, hear him yelling your name. But Wilson Fisk keeps you in place. You can do nothing but watch as Matt Murdock meets his end again, unable to save him. You start to scream, thrashing against Fisk, ready to claw your way to Matt.
You wake up screaming, the nightmare haunting you. A guard bangs on your door, yelling at you to keep it down.
It was just a nightmare, you tell yourself. Maybe Matt heard your screams.
Maybe he’s already dead.
You force yourself not to listen to the voice in your head that says that.
• • •
One day, Fisk visits again, only this time, He’s covered in blood. That damn song is still playing.
You just stare. They have long since stopped tying you up, recognizing that you no longer have the energy to try and fight back.  He has this sick grin on his face.
“Good evening, Mrs. Murdock.” You say nothing. “Have you been enjoying your stay with us?”
You glare.
“I hope Matt kills you when he gets here, because it will be a lot less painful for you if he does it instead of me.”
Mr. Fisk just laughs at this and tosses something at your feet. You get down off the chair to see what it is.
Your face goes pale with realization. You pick it up and slip it on your thumb, with it being too big for your other fingers. Matt’s wedding ring. You know it’s his, it has your name engraved in braille on the inside. How did he get this?
As if reading your mind, Fisk speaks again. “I took it off his body after I killed him.”
Your head shoots up to him. What did he say?
“No.” You deny. “Fuck off, I don’t—I don’t believe you.”
“Your husband is dead, Mrs. Murdock. I killed him with my bare hands because he was stupid enough to come after you. Your friends will mourn you and Matt Murdock for a while, and the city will come to the realization that Daredevil did nothing but harm. I win, Mrs. Murdock.”
You feel tears start to fill your eyes, and you realize, no. He hasn’t won because you’re still alive.
Maybe not for long, but you are.
You gather the rest of your energy and leap up, lunging at the large man covered in the man you love’s blood. And there’s a part of you that gets it. Okay, universe, you win. Most people don’t get a second chance like the two of you did. And now he’s dead, and soon you will be too. You can at least try to kill Fisk.
But you barely get a scratch in, yelling and screaming obscenities at him, as John grabs your arms from behind pulling you away. Fisk laughs and shakes his head again.
“It’s been lovely knowing you, Mrs. Murdock. I’m sorry you’ll have to die, you had so much potential. John, when you’re done doing whatever you’d like to her, kill her.” You hear him say it, but you’re blinded by rage, by grief.
John laughs behind you and forces you back into the chair, tying you back up once more. He looks at you, enraged and grief stricken, and just shakes his head.
“You and I are going to have a lot of fun.”
He leaves for a few minutes, and you realize this is the first time you’ve been left alone in this room. You tug at the knots and realize that while John is a gifted torturer, he’s not much of a knot tier.
So you manage to wiggle out of the rope, approaching the table in front of you. You don’t have much time. Okay, maybe you won’t be able to kill Fisk, but John will do. You take a golf club off the table in front of you and turn to the record player.
You begin to smash the thing in, angrily cursing at it as Frank Sinatra’s voice fades off into nothing. When the song ends, the lights turn off. And then, red flood lights turn on in their place.
A back up generator. Lovely. You think that your smashing of the record player couldn’t possibly make the whole building’s power go off, but you don’t really care at that moment.
You’re tired. You won’t make it far, but you need to try. You grasp the club and open the door, being greeted with a man you don’t recognize. You smack him in the face with the club hard enough for him to fall to the ground.
The red lighting adds an eerie tone to the hallways as you creep around, concussing various henchmen that Fisk has working for him. You don’t mean to kill these ones, only John.
But you’re running out of stamina, peeking around corners. And that’s when you see him. John is just standing there like he knows you’re there.
“Come out to play, Mrs. Murdock?” He calls, approaching the corner where you are waiting on the other side.
You focus on his footsteps, taking a swing around the corner when you know he’s close enough. You hear a sharp crack! As he falls, and you can’t see the blood in this lighting. Good. You begin to hit his head in, sobs mixing with yelling. You hate him. You want him to die before you’re killed.
But you don’t get the pleasure, because a pair of arms are pulling you off him, and you begin yelling.
“No!” You yelp. “No, Fuck you! Let go of me! Stop!” You think it’s another one of his goons, and you just want to be able to finish the job before you die. The figure forces you to drop the club. “Please, stop, don’t hurt me—”
But he’s saying your name and turning you around to see him. You know that voice.
“Sweetheart, hey, it’s just me—” He pants, his hands going to your cheeks. “It’s me, It’s just me. I’ve got you.”
And you can’t believe your eyes.
“Matt..?” You whimper, not able to believe it. “No, you’re dead, this has to be—”
And then, Matt does something he wouldn’t do for anyone who wasn’t his wife. He pulls off his helmet so you can see his face. Oh.
“I’m right here. I’ve got you.” He says softly, his thumb gently rubbing against your skin.
That’s when you start to sob, falling against him, no energy left to carry yourself. His arms wrap around you, and you say it again.
“He told me you were dead..”
“I know.. I’m sorry, I don’t know how he got my ring but we’ve gotta get you out of here.” He tells you.
You’re so tired. You’re slumping against him as you try to walk, the warmth radiating off his body just drawing you to sleep.
The last thing you hear before you fall asleep is Matt’s voice, begging you to stay awake.
• • •
You see flashes. Your parents, your dad. Nightmares of Fisk killing Karen, Foggy, Frank, and worst of all, Matt. You see John’s sickening grin on the body of spiders, and you’re chased by his cruel laughter.
But the dreams are filmier compared to what’s happening around you. You know Claire shows up at some point, and you’re thankful to her. Karen sits next to you sometimes, petting your hair, or sometimes it’s Foggy, talking your ear off.
You have fever dreams of Frank in full military gear, tormenting you.
“Not so tough now, huh, girl?” He teases. “You really thought you’d kill the big bad wolf? Solve all your boyfriend’s problems?”  
You say to him, “Husband, He’s my husband.”
• • •
Even in your dreams, where you were slashed and burned aches, and you long for the pain to end.
You wake up only once throughout these dreams, and it’s when Karen is playing music to try and calm you from your insistent nightmares.
Only one song snaps you out of it, and you hear it clear as day.
‘Fly me to the moon,” Sinatra sings, “Let me play among the stars,’
He only gets through a few more lines before you’re sitting up on the couch, screaming.
“No! Stop, please!” You cry, and in an instant, Matt’s arms are around you. “Matt, please, don’t let him hurt me, please! Please don’t die, don’t let him keep hurting me!” You beg, in a hazed, frenzied state.
“I’ve got you, No one’s going to hurt you..”
Karen turns off the music somewhere deep in the apartment.
“No..” You begin to grow tired in his arms again. “Matty, please.. You can’t die, please..” You whimper out, continuing to mumble out pleads as you fall back into your weird dream state.
• • •
You really wake up two days later. Matt’s hand is clasped over yours, and he’s just.. Sitting on the floor next to the couch, praying into your clasped hands.
Praying for what, you don’t know.
Your body aches. But something in you tells you you’re safe.
“Matt…?” You whisper gently, and his head shoots up.
“Hey..” He says softly, one hand leaving yours, coming up to brush your hair out of your face. “There she is..”
“You’re alive..”
He seems a little concerned you still had some doubts about this.
“I am. Fisk lied to you.. He never even touched me.” You nod.
“Did I kill him? The man you found me..”
“No. He’s just in a coma, I checked. He’ll be brought to justice.”
“I only wanted him dead when I thought you were too..” Because really, you would have nothing if Matt wasn’t there. Nothing to live for. When he was blipped away, you had the hardest time readjusting to life. Now you know if he died again, you’d probably go off the rails.
No love story is saved more than once. You used up all your luck. Now it will be doomed if he’s ever killed again.
“I know.” He said gently.
“How long have I been out? How long was I in there?”
“A week, and then you were out for four days here. They got you good, baby..” He says gently. “I’m sorry I didn’t find you earlier.”
You frown softly.
“You did find me though. That’s all that really matters anymore.” You know you’ll be nursing scars for a long time. Physical or not.
“Still..” He said gently, and he brings your hand up to kiss it gently. “And I’m sorry I told you to leave that night. I was just upset, but this past week and half.. I feel like I’ve been going crazy without you. No matter how mad at you I am, I never want to spend another night without holding you. Knowing that you could have been…” His voice breaks, and he just sighs, taking a moment to lean his head on your hand. “I love you, so much.” He kisses your palm again.
How are you so tired again? All you’ve done is talk to him, but it feels like you just ran a marathon.
“I love you. It’s why I married you. Because you and I, we were always meant to be with each other. No matter what.”
He smiles weakly and reaches over to the coffee table to grab something. He slips it on your finger and for the first time in over a week, your wedding ring is back where it belongs. You see Matt is wearing his. Your Matt. Your husband. The only one you were ever meant to be with.
“Did Claire patch me up? I remember her being here..” He nods softly.
“Yeah, we.. we really owe her one. She was a huge help..”
“Karen and Foggy were here… And Frank?”
“No, no, Frank’s still in Illinois, I think?” You nod softly. “You were mumbling to him, though. I heard you… you were telling him you had a husband.”
You would laugh if it didn’t hurt.
“He called you my boyfriend. I had to correct him.” You grin.
“That’s my girl.” He hums. Matt gently lifts you so you can sit up and drink some water. Then, he climbs onto the couch and brings you close. His arms wrap around your freshly wounded skin and you have a rare moment of gratefulness for his blindness.
You sit in silence for a while.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks gently.
You think about it all. The torture, the cuts, burns, the small room. Fisk’s laughter, John’s grin. But something sticks out to you.
“Fisk said I was just like him.”
“What?”
“We.. We grew up similar, Matt, I mean.. What if he’s right? What if the only thing separating him and I is one bad move?”
Your husband frowns and shakes his head.
“Sweetheart, you are the.. the most amazing person I’ve ever met. You’re the complete antithesis of Wilson Fisk. Yeah, you grew up like him, but you’re living proof that you don’t have to go down the path he did just because of his background. You and I both know that there will never be a world where you end up like him. Especially not with me.”
You find comfort with his words. Not only did you make every choice not to be like Fisk, but you must’ve also made all the right decisions if in the end, you ended up with Matt. Oh, it won’t be easy, you know that for sure. You’ll never be able to listen to Frank Sinatra, and your upcoming nights are filled with nightmares and hauntings.
But one day you’ll be okay. One day You’ll be able to sit in the silence without thinking about it. One day you’ll get the image of dead Matt out of your head. You’ve spent many nights wondering about who will go first, you or him.
And then you realize the best-case scenario is that the two of you die at the same time, never living another moment without each other.
How would there ever be a world where you and your husband weren’t with each other, even just for a moment?
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vixenicks · 3 months
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i walk in covered in blood hey guys
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