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ind. matt murdock of marvel's Daredevil. selective.

[ironriots]

I guess I should be ashamed / But I forget to be vain / I did the best I could I guess / But everything just bleeds

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[courtingcatholicism]

View from the pew at midnight (ish) Mass.

“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”

[aitormento-deactivated20220208]

Roberto Ferri

[edritchtwink]

You know i dont get homoerotically pinned to the wall nearly enough

[hellsainted]

                                        ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ғᴏʀ ʜᴇᴀᴠᴇɴ,                          ғᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ ɪɴ ᴍᴇ

＊ ind. matt murdock of marvel’s D A R E D E V I L . netflix based with earth-616 comic influences.

[hellsainted]

warandpunishment‌:

So the wound was more serious than he thought, indeed. Not that he cared much since Murdock was around, trying to act like a nurse. Any help was welcome when he was in that state, anyway. The man seemed alarmed enough, which made Frank ponder the reaction. He wanted to point out again he was fine – he had much worse and survived, so Murdock didn’t have to worry about a simple cut. However, whatever the man had in mind, Frank didn’t aim to change it.

He obeyed Murdock, leaning back against the pillows, grunting a bit. His heart was beating fast, the pain was getting into his nerves. Now that he remembered the cut, it would be hard to forget about it again. Sweat slid down his body, he wondered if the man could smell it – it was probably an unpleasant moment to him. Frank sighed, trying to relax as his ‘nurse’ left him to get the rest of the medical tools to treat him. He held the gauze against his wound as he was told, staring at the ceiling while he tried to take his mind away from pain.

It didn’t take long for Murdock to return with the tools, and his eyes watched the man curiously. Murdock had always been a person who genuinely cared for others, even his enemies. Frank wouldn’t be surprised to see him treating an opponent – like he was doing with him – so it was somehow admirable. Murdock didn’t need to know Frank admired that aspect of his, though. To him, criminals still deserved to be punished.

His eyes followed Murdock’s, taking advantage that he couldn’t stare back. He had his painkillers, then tried to relax again, this time when the man was cleaning his wound. It was hurting like hell. He couldn’t hide that from Murdock, even if he wanted to. A grunt, then a hiss, his whole body trembled at the touch of the gauze against his cut. “Fuck!” He snarled, closing both hands into fists. Damn it, it was that bad.

Murdock mentioned the possible guardian angel Frank had around, protecting him. A chuckle escaped from his painful throat. “I don’t think I have a guardian angel.” It was probably the Devil who kept an eye on him. Frank knew he was far from being a saint, and he did nothing to change that. “God probably hates me. And I hate him back.”

  “GOD DOESN’T HATE YOU.” he disagreed, with the far-seeing serenity only the faithful seem to possess, briefly pausing the methodical loops of his careful stitching to ensure his words stuck; he supposed frank perhaps thought god had failed him, and he didn’t blame him for thinking that. he wasn’t the first man to have his faith and trust in god broken by horrific circumstances, cursing the heavens for abandoning them in terrestrial hell. he’d been there himself: it was a very dark place. “he’s given you a guardian devil, after all.” he paired the bad joke with a sheepish sort of smile, clean fingers gently pushing the tattered seams of the wound together where the old nylon had previously ruptured; all the while he touched him with kindness, the kind of delicate grace he suspected a war-hardened man like frank didn’t often come across, but deserved nonetheless.  though he could feel the keen scrutiny of frank’s eyes on him, his focus was trained on the ex-soldier’s pained reactions - he needed something much stronger than those painkillers, something he regrettably couldn’t provide; but whatever preternatural force kept frank’s martyred body going beyond any reasonable explanation, matthew was sure would help him get through the night, and with a little luck, infection-free. he found himself wondering if frank had actually died on many occasions, and god just kept bringing him back to fulfil the purge of gomorrah time after time. “almost done.” murmured reassurance as he worked on tying up the last stitch neatly, his tone laced with an almost apologetic note. “you know ... meditation could help you manage the pain.” he deadpanned, waiting a beat for a reaction, then added; “but I also have some liquor somewhere if you prefer that kind of distraction. either way, I am not discharging you for a while so get comfortable.” admittedly he got a playfully wicked thrill from bossing an ex-soldier around, especially when frank was actually operating in an obedient mindset. he found that he didn’t mind him so much then, that grating attitude curbed into a little window for some dialogue and maybe, just maybe, some level of understanding.  

[hellsainted]

"Stop squirming, I'm trying to help."

/ some old meme where matt is being trash - no longer accepting 

 DIFFICULT TO TELL FRIEND FROM FOE these days, when his concentration seems to fade in and out at random, and the fortuitous samaritan currently trying to steady the thrashing animal he’s reduced to is no exception; like the morning star falling from the firmament of god’s divine glory and into the consequences of his hubris, the devil of hell’s kitchen has inexorably plunged into the humble dirt of his mortal domain, horned cowl long discarded in an attempt to find purpose anew and sharpened, to be a better man - with mixed results.senses spike and plummet in waves as his head spins like a tumble dryer, and it is only when he finally, barely manages to hone them that he picks up a sharp, thick accent and the faint, acrid scent of lingering smoke under the overwhelming copper of his own blood. though he can’t be entirely sure in that dazed state of raging adrenaline and confusion he attempts to take those signals at face value, and a raspy cry is forced out of gnashing teeth. “–j-john?” please let it be him. there is no sweeter melody at that moment than that unmistakable scouse inflection.

@laughingmagi

[gullahch1ld]

If you ever saw me naked, you’re welcome.

[hellsainted]

"What are you doing tonight? Besides me?"

/ some old saucy meme - always accepting !!

 THE PROVOCATION DOESN’T FAIL to quicken his heartbeat, however insincere it might be;  no matter the circumstances, dancing with elektra once more has him skating on the edge of the abyss, and he labours under the brief illusion that he’s never felt more alive or ignited with such renewed purpose, even as he’s traded his devil suit and cowl for loose sweats and a plain blindfold. they are urban demons draped in vermilion, wrestling atop one of many peaks of the cement jungle until, inevitably, the legendary erinys pins down the hapless, spellbound mortal beneath the deathly instrument that is her body. her warm weight is pleasant, as is the proximity of her scent. his breath comes out in wisps that evanesce into the night-time chill, and his limbs relax to welcome their conveniently slotted positioning as he dares to take a gamble with his lowered guard, right in the middle of their training despite the tension he still feels coiling in her, like a predator poised to sprint; he knows elektra to be as unforgiving a mentor as stick was,  and yet far superior in understanding, playfulness and even kindness.  so he offers a signature smirk, the kind that makes hearts flutter, and pours a tentative measure of forgotten huskiness in his tone; “I was going to work on regaining my focus, but it sounds like you have something else in mind … and if memory serves, that barely leaves time for much else.”

[unspiritedaway]

[hellsainted]

terrifiesthem‌:

there’s a grunt in response to murdock’s failed attempt of a joke. yeah. some fuckin’ profession they had. if that was the case, they were on completely opposite branches of the same shitty company. perhaps frank was the last one to criticize anyone on their recklessness — but he would easily argue that there was a strong purpose behind his own self-destruction. at least that had been his own point of view. and this point of view only sees hornhead and his carelessness as just that. carelessness. making a mistake he could have easily avoided. but if he wanted to get killed, maybe the person who shot him should have been a better aim.

as many differences as they have … red is … necessary. brings those to justice. it just-so happens that those brought to justice slipped through the cracks. and that’s where he came in. as much as he stopped him, as much as he annoyed him, he didn’t truly deserve to die. he’s good at what he does: beating the shit outta the people who deserve it. and like hell frank would ever complain about that. but he was still so goddamn stupid. unnecessarily messy this time around. if he kept this up, maybe then frank would have his complaints. if it caused innocents to be hurt — that’s where the line would be drawn.

there’s a light huff. barely shadows. ❛ they so easy to spot, why am i here tendin’ to your goddamn head? ❜ great. barely shadows, so easy to notice, and yet this mistake was made. that makes him feel a lot better. he withdraws back, placing the rag aside. they’d have to staple the wound. he then looks in the med kit to see if there was at least a staple of some kind. if not, he hopes the lawyer in murdock has one laying around here somewhere.

the question makes him stop … briefly. as if he was to ask himself why he was doing this, too. there’s a strained silence before he continues to look. ❛ … professional courtesy. ❜ he’d reply back, using the other’s jab against him.

 THEY’RE POLAR OPPOSITES with a common goal; most of the time matthew feels he couldn’t be further from the ex-soldier turned mass murdering vigilante - and then he’s left to wonder why he feels a strange affinity with him, like heartbeats in unison. maybe it’s that same ridiculous instinct of sacrifice and self ruination. and maybe it’s that unspoken driver that has him chase the light buried within frank at every turn, believing in his humanity and trusting that he can still reach it - frank is the holy grail of his earthly mission, to get through to who he believes to be a good man doing the wrong things and shredding his own soul for a good cause, the same cause championed by the devil of hell’s kitchen. do what they can and must to clean up the streets, save lives. if matthew is the martyr, then frank is the crusader. he suspects it’s that inherent goodness in frank that has him looking after him as if he were one of his own, a fellow soldier in the holy war against the city’s crimelords. a small victory for the patron saint of lost causes. frank wades through mild unease the question provoked like the weathered soldier he is, with staunch determination and stoicism .  matt can’t help but admire the cool, loud composure of his war drum heart - one he could pinpoint anywhere, so memorable it has become in the grim fire of his dusky world. he rewards the well-aimed dig with one a lopsided curve that dimples his stubbly cheek, breaking through the agony that has him clench his jaw. “your professional concern is ... noted.”  but the pulsing heat in his temple serves as a sharp reminder of his current helplessness and frank’s poking around his den, and he quietly hisses before delivering the belated instruction; “... there is a med kit in the cabinet under the sink.” fully and recently restocked by yet another one of his guardian angels. 

[hellsainted]

corruptedspider‌:

THERE WAS A SUDDEN DOUBT IN PETER’S MIND about the truth of the matter. there was doubt that anything would ever change between them. try as he might, they couldn’t have more than this. hiding away in the night; keeping from prying eyes and those who’d wish them harm. it was a harsh reality, but he wanted more. by the gods he wanted everything. to have matt to himself, to no longer have to hide, and to be who he truly was. 

this went beyond a simple want, but rather it was a necessity of sorts; to no longer have to hold back for what he wanted. to be something better. to become something more. there was many concerns, but he wanted matt - not just by his side, but to be his. maybe nothing would come of it, but it was all parker wanted. to have someone like this… even if it wouldn’t truthfully last. “then take care of me,” he replies, voice a bit lower than necessary, “protect me. don’t worry about the rest of them. forget about the city, the kitchen, and everything else. they don’t matter right now. the only one that does needs protection.” a pause. “i need protection of the highest degree. inside and…outside of our suits. can you do that for me? will you protect me, matty? no matter what i do or how far i fall? will you be my loyal devil?”

HORNED HEAD FALLS INTO A NOD, and then another one, nodding assent to every request made by this crepuscular spider weaving clever webs around him he can’t escape from; such is the crown of thorns around his bleeding heart. the city will always matter, but peter, his peter, once pillar of the church of the vigilantes, asks for protection and saint matthew can not deny him, not when there is a chance he can restore him to his former path of light. this misguided creature is everything his heart yearns to love and carry to salvation, and his loyalty is and will always be to the cause of the penitent, the needy, the sinners.  “you know I will. but you must help me help you.” he concedes softly, guided by that temptingly beseeched loyalty and steeling himself to deliver the one request he has in turn; “you want to end these games, and let me take care of you? then let go of the mask ... of the suit. just be peter.” leave hell to the devil, and learn to be human again. “I can’t protect you like this. not ... in the way you want me to.”

[g-alatee]

𝑨𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍𝒐 𝒊𝒏𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒊 

⏤𝐑𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨 𝐅𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢 ❪ 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟓⚊𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟗 ❫

[darthvaders]

[tchaikovskaya]

religious views: aesthetically catholic 

[avocadefense-a]

“if you’re about to ask if i’m embarrassed, the answer is no. i have no shame.” had he just been caught singing at the top of his lungs? yes. was he singing to lizzo? yes. “it’s a good song. sue me.” ha.

open starter!

[hellsainted]

“YOU REALLY THINK I still believe you to have shame, fog?” he tutted fondly, tipping his head in faux inquiry in his best friend’s direction; not that he thought there was anything shameful about him singing to liberating lyrics to his heart’s content - that didn’t even make it on the list of things matt was picky about.  “if I am to sue my partner, I’m gonna save it for a really special occasion.”

[f4gf0rfr33g4yb4ll5n0h035-deacti]