( charlie cox. 35. cis male. he/him. ) are you a VIGILANTE? something tells me that muay thai ropes, red sunglasses, wrinkled suits make you who you are, MATT MURDOCK. with the powers of SUPER SENSES, AGILITY, AND RADAR SENSE you’re sure to have an altruistic, stubborn personality — and you definitely belong to UNAFFILIATED. were you listening to GET RIGHT by ARCADE FIRE on your way to the subway? it suits you. we can’t wait to see what you do next! ( s. 23. they/them. cst )
intro under the cut!! [ @reshieldedintro ]
character name: matthew michael murdock
age: thirty-five
faceclaim: charlie cox
voiceclaim: charlie cox
skill set: super sense, super agility, radar sense, mixed martial arts, stealth, marksmanship
affiliations: none
family: none
zodiac: capricorn
wiki link: general wiki, mcu wiki, comics wiki
**note: matt is based mainly on the daredevil netflix show!**
was your character “blipped” out? if so, what did they return to and how is it affecting them? if not, who important to them was blipped out, and what has it felt like after those five years have passed? ( if your character is a dc muse: what were they doing when they passed through the portal? )
matt wasn’t blipped out. he wished he had been. he wished he had been blipped out and he had blissfully escaped the five years of torture that was his life post blip. he couldn’t sleep anymore—he kept replaying the sound in his head, the sound of a million voices crying out at once, the sound of mothers sobbing over their lost children. the deafening silence of millions of heartbeats stopping at once.
where are they living? are they living with anyone?
matt is living in hell’s kitchen, in the same loft he’s been living in for years now. it’s just as dingy as it’s always been, though that’s mostly because he hasn’t been able to bring himself to take care of it the way he used to over the past few years.
why is your character affiliated with who they’re affiliated with?
he, frankly, doesn’t trust any of the institutions who claim to protect new york. they think they can just waltz into his city and claim that they know best? they don’t know the people here. they don’t know the way the city movies, the way it breathes. some people need to stay out of it all and make sure they’re really looking out for the city’s best interest.
who are their major friends, allies, and foes?
friends/allies: foggy nelson, karen page, peter parker, luke cage, jessica jones, wade wilson, maya lopez
foes: wilson fisk, bullseye, kilgrave, the hand, typhoid mary
it’s...complicated: frank castle, elektra natchios
whose hands do they believe the country should be in?
matt honestly thinks civilians should be in charge. people like him—heroes, vigilantes, superpowered individuals—aren’t equipped for leadership simply because of genetic abnormalities that make them stronger or faster. and, frankly, he thinks that the so-called underdogs deserve a little more credit.
what’s their current mental state at? their physical state?
matt was much more deeply affected by the blip than he would ever admit. he doesn’t sleep most nights (as if he was getting much sleep before the blip anyway) and he’s been drinking far too often. he goes to confession most days, if only because he feels tremendous guilt over the fact that he couldn’t stop the devastating effects of the blip.
physically, he is definitely suffering from the effects of sleep deprivation, as usual, and, being a glutton for punishment, his body has a general scarred-over quality that makes it difficult for him to be conducting his nightly vigilantism at the same clip he used to. honestly though, he just takes a couple of aspirin and grits his teeth through it.
“you shouldn’t be,” scott says, wanting to apologize again. it was his fault that he fell in the first place, it wasn’t fair to the other man all because he decided to do the dumb thing in the first place going the opposite direction. “here,” he grabs the cain and picking up anything else that fell. and waiting for him to be fully standing up so he could hand it back over to the man. “since the uh, the blip happened i’ve… been a bit discombobulated.”
///
“well, that’s above my pay grade,” matt replied, standing up somewhat unsteadily—he really was working hard to sell it—before dusting himself off. he paused, cocking his head to the side as if listening intently, then turned to face him. “i’m assuming you have my cane. or, i’m in deep shit.” his breath caught slightly in his throat at the mention of the blip, but he played it off as best he could and pushed forward. “yeah, i think we all are,” he said, somewhat mournfully.
still feeling torn between wanting to keep the other man close, or throwing a punch instead, for the time he stayed with the former. for all of frank’s anger and confusion at the radio silence that had been between the two of them ever since he’d been brought back, there was an understanding there as well. trauma tended to form in people differently, and for what he knew about matt, this was the way that the other tended to handle these sorts of matters. fair enough, given frank was likely to do the same and may have been worse had things began to grow even further between them.
but that was the problem here, wasn’t it?? matt had had five years between that moment while frank only had weeks. relief flooded through frank once the arms were wrapping around him in return – finally feeling as though he could fully melt into the embrace, give himself over to it if only for a few seconds. breathing shakily, fingers clutched tighter at the fabric of daredevil’s suit, feeling as though he was nearing that area of wanting to push matt away or have those feelings bubble over and keep them close.
“least you can admit it,” comes the gruff response, fingers pressing tighter, almost desperate to keep matt close lest he slip away. not that it would be the first nor the last time something like that would ever happen. their relationship had always been rather chaotic, ever since the very beginning.
he feels almost like a lost solider without direction – floating away, needing to be grounded lest he completely disappear all over again. maybe that was why frank felt that desperation kicking in, that need to keep matt close. he’d disappeared once before, why couldn’t it happen again??
“wasn’t too sure if you were going to run when you realized it was me, or you were gonna actually stay ‘round and wait. glad to know it was the latter even if i’m still tempted to throw a punch.” frank wants to do more. half tempted to turn his head, let lips brush against what skin he could see, but he stopped himself. there were too many unknowns here.
“you okay??”
matt liked to act tough. it was part of his whole schtick, being unflappable in court and being steady as a friend and never, ever giving in to fear when he was daredevil. it was hard for him to admit that he had spent the past five years suffering more than he had ever suffered before. in fact, he didn’t admit it to anyone, as much as that might have actually helped him. being so finely tuned to the currents of the city had ended up being a disaster for him when it came to the snap; he practically heard the city break in half.
being around frank was just a reminder of that, of the pain he had felt for years following the snap. matt wished that it was as simple as everything being undone to make everything better, but while it had been just a short amount of time for those who had disappeared, it felt like a lifetime for the people who were left behind. he still didn’t quite trust the feeling of frank’s fingers digging into his shoulder blades. he was afraid that frank might turn to dust right then and there, that he would wake up and this beautiful fever dream of balance being righted in the world would just disappear.
he huffed out a half-hearted laugh. “i almost did.” matt dropped his hands from frank’s back. he took a step back. the proximity was getting to be too much. he didn’t know what he was going to do with himself if he stayed in that embrace any longer. even then, with the few feet of distance between them, he felt like crying. he swallowed hard, trying not to think about all the millions of things he wanted to say to frank, the scenarios he ran through his head every night in the hopes of staving off the pain.
you okay? it was a complicated question on the best days. this was not the best day. he doubled over slightly as if he was punched, his hands pressed against his knees. “that’s kind of a loaded question.”
matt brought his arms up to wrap around his own shoulders, turning away from frank. it was something his therapist had told him about—the therapist he had only seen for two sessions in the immediate aftermath of the blip and had ultimately given up on, not because he didn’t help but because matt couldn’t bring himself to open up any further. still, the self-soothing wasn’t a bad idea most of the time, and the gentle pressure around his shoulders kept him from hyperventilating. he took some deep breaths, wishing desperately that the city air was fresher than it actually was, that he might actually feel the sharp, cool bite of the outside rather than the smog that felt like smoking a cigarette every time he took a breath.
he dropped his hands to his hips, trying to convince frank that he was fine, to just leave him, but he doubled over again, hands on his knees once more to keep them from buckling under him. “this...” he swallowed. “this is a lot.” he was fairly certain he was going to puke. he clenched his jaw, willing it not to happen.
“That we do.” Dinah nodded as she looked down to her drink. She didn’t have the easiest start in life but who did? It was what she did now that mattered and the universe messing with her and everyone else was not going to change that. “I get that.” She glanced over to him. “I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that it doesn’t define you.” She flashed a smile as she spoke.
Matt shrugged. “People always say shit like that.” He took a swig of his drink. “It doesn’t really mean much. I mean, it does define me, right? And it always will. But it’s not the only part of me. That definition isn’t the only thing that matters.” Matt had long since learned to live with—and even appreciate—his disability, but that didn’t mean that the trauma of the disabling accident just went away. It would always be there, right next to losing his father and now the snap.
earth never felt like home to them. even with the knowledge of unearthly beings inhabiting the planet , clea couldn’t bring herself to successfully assimilate into earth. but even so clea felt that with her magical abilities she owed earth something. the mage is spending the majority of her afternoon assuming life as a tourist. she found herself outside the busy courthouse becoming fascinated with it’s old architecture. in spite of her opinions about earth and humans , she couldn’t disguise her admiration for their craftsmanship.
clea’s moment is interrupted with someone she assumed worked at the courthouse. his attire and generally disheveled attutide was enough of a clue. their nose scrunched at his string of obscenities. clea stretched his neck towards him. ❛❛ oh you poor thing. ❜❜ her voice doesn’t seem to have an inkling of remorse or care. she’s rather peeved but decided to indulge in what was the cause of her disturbance. ❛❛ is everything okay ? ❜❜
matt cocked his head to the side. he was bristling already, and certainly wasn’t interested in anyone making his already shitty day worse. he wasn’t trying to be an asshole—he rarely was—but he usually ended up being one anyway. it was probably a mix of a strict catholic upbringing, having a boxer with a severe case of sailor’s mouth for a father, and having the level patience that most new yorkers had—very low. he pressed his lips together, dropping his hands to his hips when he spoke.
“listen, i don’t really care what you do with yourself, but i’d really prefer it if you backed up at least ten feet. better yet, you could just start walking down the street.” he grumbled, turning away from where he had heard her voice. “calling me poor thing like i even asked for her opinion,” he muttered to himself. he needed coffee. maybe some advil. probably both.
he also lets out a slight laugh , “ oh , that’s a whole different thing . i mean , was it a joke ? were there jokey vibes ? were there vibes in general ? “ ned inquires , curiosity already taking over . “ vibes , as in , bow - chicka - bow - wow vibes , that is . “
matt paused for a moment, his head cocked to the side as he considered the evening. “i mean. i’m not one to kiss and tell. but it certainly went the way that i was hoping it might.” his lips curved into a crooked smirk. “i should probably warn her not to try it on all blind guys, though. not all of them are as good at pool as i am.”
dinah chuckled as he mentioned working terrible jobs. “beats living on the streets, right?” she mused a little, looking over to him. as he pulled down his glasses to reveal the scared eyes, his eyes unresponsive to the movement or the lights. dinah straightened her back up. “oh, I’m sorry.” she said with a small frown. as he mentioned the scars, dinah shook her head. “we all got scars. don’t always have to be physical so don’t worry about it.” she said with half a smile. “i’ve seen way worse.”
“we all have to do what we have to do to get by.” matt had certainly done his fair share of stupid shit throughout his twenties to try and make sure he could keep making ends meet, and what truly made matt sad about it was the fact that most everyone in new york was struggling like that. he hoped things would change for the better, but he felt helpless in the face of the rapid changes for the worse the city constantly seemed to be going under. “yeah, well, i’d rather not have anyone’s pity. it’s easier to avoid when i’m wearing the glasses.”
IT’S DONNA’S SECOND CHANCE at life and it’s still taking some time to get used to . sometimes she finds herself not fully there . nights are haunted by vague memories of fighting someone , something . it wasn’t a dream but it also didn’t feel like it happened . their gaze shifts from the viewfinder of her camera to the person behind them . “ you doing okay ? need water ? ibuprofen –– or …? ”
“okay is relative.” he paused. “i don’t need ibuprofen or anything. maybe a time machine so i can go back and not be such a fuck-up.” matt shook his head, hoping that the tension headache blooming behind his forehead would go away before it got worse, but he had the feeling he was going to have a terrible migraine later. he really needed to start getting more sleep. and drinking more water. and just generally taking better care of himself.
“i have to say, mr. drake, this is going to be a difficult case,” matt said. he wasn’t used to having witnesses who were quite as sharp as tim was, so it was a bit odd trying to do this sort of pre-deposition briefing when the person across the table knew almost as much about the law as he did. it should have made matt’s life easier, but frankly, between his ego needing him to be the smartest person in the room and the habit that made it so that he was unaccustomed to anything different, he was annoyed. “i’m going to be there with you to make sure opposing counsel doesn’t ask anything out of line. wait a moment before answering anything—don’t speak too quickly or too late. give myself and mr. nelson—” matt checked his watch. “if he ever gets here,” he grumbled. “—a chance to object or ask for clarification before you do.”
matt found the sound of neon comforting, in a way. it reminded him of late nights in hell’s kitchen, where the only sounds would be that of the buzzing of neon lights and the night workers blearily making their way home. it reminded matt of home, something he needed to remember he cared about—these days, it was difficult to find the reason to continue on as daredevil, and the only thing that kept him going was the constant reminder that this city, the people who lived in his neighborhood, they needed him. no one else cared about a little neighborhood in manhattan. matt was the only one.
he was standing beside the neon, trying and failing to drown out all the background noise, when he heard a couple of people at the opposite end of the bar whispering about tony stark being there. matt knew he had to at least say hello. it wasn’t every day you got to talk to a bona fide billionaire, after all. he walked up to the bar. “two beers, josie,” he said, and she bit back with a snarky bottom shelf, murdock? he laughed. “as if i could afford anything else.” he at first didn’t say anything to the man next to him. he didn’t want to spook anyone—he’d save the mysterious blind man tricks for later.
matt usually couldn’t make morning mass—he already had a hard enough time getting out of bed in the morning as is without the added pressure of needing to make things right with god that week—so he usually found himself at the much quieter, more sparsely populated evening prayers. he liked it that way. too many people in the church meant it was too loud for him, that he couldn’t think, and sometimes, he needed to just sit in the pews and focus on one voice.
when he came out of church that night, his mind turning over and over with what the new priest—no father lantom, but good enough he supposed—had been saying, he became suddenly aware of a heartbeat with which he was keenly familiar. “well, at least you waited until after mass this time,” matt said, unfolding his cane and tapping his way down the steps in front of the church until he was standing in front of jess.
valentina allegra de fontaine [ @valdefontaine ] sent 🎁 [ for your muse to give mine a gift; a random bag of candy ]
matt furrowed his brow as he felt the weight of the bag of candy in his hand. he paused for a moment, about to say something about how he didn’t eat candy when his stomach rumbled. when was the last time he ate a meal? his brows shot up slightly. “this is...exactly what i needed,” he said, opening the bag and plucking out a hard candy. “i don’t think i ate breakfast today.” nor did he eat dinner the night before. matt needed to be better about that—with the number of calories he burned as daredevil, he was going to waste away into nothing if he wasn’t careful.
coming back after five years to a world that had changed and moved on without you would be difficult for just about anyone to stomach. knowing that those years had passed, yet it feeling like you were gone for no time at all made the sting even worse. avoiding thinking about it for too long was the best coping mechanism that frank could muster right now. that and resuming his punisher duties, taking his mind off of the trauma from the blip and putting into scum bags and assholes that deserved to be erased from the face of the earth.
if it meant avoiding feelings that had blossomed over time, and remembering that moment on a rooftop a lifetime ago that only felt like weeks for frank, well, it was for the best. if he allowed himself to linger on those thoughts or feelings, it might drive him completely mad at this point. better to try and forget, better to just realize matt was clearly avoiding him ever since he’d been brought back after five long years. some things were better left untouched.
so why had frank bothered to climb up to this rooftop after he had caught a glimpse of the devil of hell’s kitchen?? why did his breath catch silently ( but not to matt – never to matt ) at the sight of the man he should hate with a fiery passion. who could say when that shift from loathing had flipped – when frank had stopped wanting to give him a good beating to something else entirely. they still butted heads, of course, but something had changed at some point between them. something dangerous, perhaps.
“hey, red.”
those are the first words the punisher has uttered to daredevil since he had been brought back from the bring of a death he hadn’t been aware of at the time. he wants to say something smart, maybe a few words here or there to really push matt and bring that tension to a rise so they could release it in the only way they knew how. but all he did was walk closer, closing that distance between them on the roof, arms wrapping around the man.
“you’re a god damn asshole, you know that, right??”
that voice.
it had the same effect on matt that it did five years ago—filling him with a mixture of excitement and dread. it wasn’t the punisher voice, no...it was slightly different. for those who didn’t know frank well, it wasn’t easy to spot the different, but at this point, matt knew frank too well, he knew that voice by heart. and he knew when he was the punisher, and when he was just...frank.
and that was the version of frank matt liked best. the times when he would let his guard down, even just barely, and show some of what he hid behind iron defenses. matt could feel the nervous energy radiating from him, practically taste his anger in the air, and matt knew it was deserved. he knew that he had been an asshole, like he always was, and he had left frank with the same unopened cans of worms and the same unresolved feelings that matt had been trying so desperately to forget about.
when frank approached him, he tensed, ready to get into a fist fight—it certainly wouldn’t be their first—but then frank wrapped his arms around him. matt stood there, stiff, unsure of what to do and unable to decide whether to break out of the hold or to sink deeper into it. he wanted the latter. he was leaning towards the former. unable to do either, he just stood there for a moment. he took a deep breath. he had missed the smell that frank carried with him—gun oil and burnt gunpowder, sweat soaking into his shirt under the kevlar, the plasticky outer covering of his body armor, the tanned, dried leather of his jacket.
matt swallowed thickly. he finally brought his arms up to press his palms against frank’s back, taking in another deep breath as he moved in just a little closer, pressing his nose against frank’s shoulder so he could inhale that scent one more time. he thought he would never smell it again.
“i know i am.”
he did care for frank, as much as he was capable of caring for anyone. which was never enough.
getting back to the real world was - well, not easy. nothing could prepare you for something like disappearing from the face of the earth for five years and being able to return, only realizing that the two minutes that you felt was actually half of a decade. sue was also not the only person that it had happened to, the entire world also living through their own version of the blip all on their own time. for someone to relied so heavily on her brain to give her answers, realizing that she couldn’t help everyone was affecting her more than anyone could probably know.
sue had a plan: go back to the apartment, crack open a notebook and start studying some other version of what could have happened. that was the plan until a couple of four letter words interrupted her concentration, head turning to see who it came from. eyes focused on a man in a suit, hand squeezing at his forehead. probably a lawyer, right? it would make sense, seeing as she had set herself up right beside the courthouse. “excuse me,” her voice was soft, apologetic almost. fingers wrapped at his shoulder, giving it a small reassuring squeeze that matched the tone of her voice. “are you okay? i couldn’t help but hear, you know, your four letter words. i have tylenol.”
matt couldn’t help the smile that pulled up at the corners of his lips, however briefly, at the sound of someone calling swears four-letter words. matt, despite being raised strictly catholic, had never shied away from cuss words. being the son of a boxer did that to you, gave you a dirty dictionary; jack murdock was infamous for the strings of curses he would let out when he went down, which was often. he was even more infamous for the strings of curses his opponents would let out when jack made his comeback in the final round. as a result, matt knew how to swear like a sailor.
he huffed out a laugh, a rare sound from him these days, and shook his head. “i haven’t heard anyone call them four letter words since i was in catholic school,” he said. he flinched lightly at the touch on his shoulder—even though he could tell it was coming, the average blind person wouldn’t be able to, and he had to sell the part, after all. “i’m fine. just—” he sighed, dropping both his hands to his hips. “i messed up. big time.” he took a deep breath. “i always tell other people it’s okay to make mistakes, but when it comes to me, everything has to be damn perfect.”
eddie was back to doing freelance journalism, a couple of gigs here and there but mostly he worked on stuff that he was passionate about, which, for him, wasn’t much. but it helped pay the rent and venom kept quiet on the days that he really needed to focus but it seemed that him and the city were restless today. he had been there at the courthouse and watch the lawyer head out the door and trailed him. he had stopped when he stopped, noticing the way that he rubbed his forehead before grabbing something from his backpack.
“i have advil and some caffeine pills if it helps?” he had tucked the notebook and pen back in the backpack, he didn’t think he’d be getting much out of the man given the bit of a stumble of words he had in there.
matt cocked his head to the side. he recognized the voice, vaguely, though he couldn’t quite remember where he had heard it and what their relationship could ostensibly be. he had to be careful. matt’s paranoia had reached something of a tipping point over the past few years, and now, matt’s circle of trust extended to very, very few people, people he knew by their heartbeat alone. he took a slight step back, tilting his head the other way as he considered the offer. caffeine wasn’t a half-bad idea, though matt preferred to ingest his through the shitty, burnt-tasting coffee back at the office.
“i generally don’t take pills from strangers,” he said, a smirk lifting at the corner of his lips as he tried to make sure his heart rate and general demeanor didn’t give away the adrenaline that pumped through his veins. he felt like putting his fist through a wall.
daisy johnson [ @dsyjohnsns ] requested a starter!!
the oldest friends matt had were from college. specifically, he had one friend he had actually held onto—foggy—while the rest had all fallen away over the years. he was never all that good at making and keeping friends, seeing as he was prone to keeping secrets and flaking at the last second. few understood the responsibility he bore, and those were the people who stuck around, because they understood. there was some lesson in there about the value of telling the truth, but the life matt lived was far too dangerous to be able to live honestly all the time.
then, there was daisy. she was the only friend matt had from his childhood. she was the first friend he had made after his father died, and he felt displaced from everyone else he might have considered close when he was a kid. she had caught on quickly that there was something different about matt, that there was more to him under the surface, and she was also one of the few people who knew his identity. her affiliation with shield made him wary of that, but he knew; she would never betray him.
matt drummed his fingers lightly against the cup of coffee on the table in front of him, rain pouring off the awning and down onto the sidewalk next to him, just close enough to spray the bottom of his pants with mucky rainwater. he made a mental note to take this particular suit to the dry cleaners as soon as possible. “you’re late,” he said, as he heard her walk up. “your coffee’s probably cold.”
dinah swirled the drink around her glass for a moment, seemingly in deep thought over everything really. after all, this wasn’t the world she knew. not really anyway but she did as she always did. got by. as she heard the comment about her voice, she let out a dry chuckle. that was one way to put it. “well, can’t say being a lounge singer was what i wanted to be but it pays the bills.” she mused as she looked over. “little dark for sunglasses isn’t it?” she teased a little.
matt shrugged. “whatever pays the bills, pays the bills. you would not believe the terrible jobs i worked to pay for school.” matt took a swig of his drink and let out a dry laugh. “i wouldn’t know,” he said, tugging his glasses down with one hand to reveal his unresponsive pupils and the faded, but still visible, scar tissue around his eyes from the chemical burns he sustained as a child. he pushed his glasses back up. “most people find the scars unnerving. i try not to show them off.”
