#father paul lantom

[a-really-good-lawyer-abandoned]

Hang in there Paul

[igotanidea]

Selflessness : Matt Murdock x fem!reader pt 1

Request: Ages ago (I'm so, so, sorry) @somest1 gave me an idea: in her free time from law school(*) reader does kind of volunteering - helping people in the church under the guidance of Matt's mom. Season 3 where he is healing in the church, so she basically helps him, but doesn't know who he is.

I changed it a bit and decided to divide it into parts (probably up to 3 or 4) but the main idea stays unchanged. Once again, I'm sorry and hope you enjoy it :)

***

„I’ve taken care of the kids in the room 6, sister Maggie. They seem unruly, but to tell the truth all they need is some care and attention.”

“Thank you, Y/N. You are a saint.” Sister Maggie Grace smiled lightly at the girl. Normally, she was far more reserved in her opinions and praises but this girl brought on the softer side of the nun.

“I assure you. I am not. I made a lot of mistakes in my life. Some worse than others.” Said girl looked down, a bit ashamed of her past.

“We all did, Y/N. What is important is that you are trying your best to do good. You help people.”

“I still think like I’m not doing enough….. Like there are so many men and women and kids who are suffering …..”

“You sound awfully like someone else I know…..”

“Really? Who?” that little tone of curiosity In her voice was not a good sign. Y/N was the nicest person even but also the one who wouldn’t take no for an answer. If she wanted to do or know something there was no power in earth, heaven or hell that would prevent her from it. She would charm her way around, getting exactly what she set her mind to.

“Doesn’t matter. But he has the tendency to put himself on the cross and take the pain and suffer from everyone in the name of greater good.”

“Seems like a charming person.” Y/N smirked

“Oh, you poor girl…..” Maggie sighed and shook her head. It was better to just distract her little helper from whatever was going on inside her head and heart “if you are done talking here, off you go. You might have covered for 6, but little Tom has been crying all night again. I have no idea why, but you are like the only person who can get to him, so why don’t you focus on the job?”

“On it, sister Maggie.” Y/N flashed her most beautiful smile and with her sunshine and rainbow attitude left the nun by herself.

“Don’t you think she could be the one to help our guest downstairs, Maggie?” the second Y/N was out of sight father Lantom emerged from the adhering porch.

“No.”

“Maggie.”

“No, Paul. I’m not putting her into this mess. She’s been through enough.”

“And you are wondering who Matt took his stubbornness after.” Lantom muttered, but it was done with his representative sympathy. He was not the one to mock people. “I’m just saying, that perhaps she will help him see the other side of life. Not all the darkness and evil. And bring him back up. She has a natural talent for it, and you know it.”

“If anything it would consume and crash her. Just like it did to Matt. I’m not letting another kid go through something like that.”

“She’s not a kid.” Lantom shrugged but turned serious under the nun’s stern gaze  “Just think about it Maggie, that’s all I’m asking.  She’s been through a lot and nothing broke her, so maybe she’s stronger than you presume.”

“Hm.” Maggie scoffed

“Promise me, you’ll consider it. You know I only want what’s best for both of them.”

“Fine, fine, I promise.” she threw her hands in the air “you are so persistent at times. God have mercy on us all if they were to meet.”

***

Y/N Y/L/N was a perfect kid. Obedient, helpful, cheerful. Great student coming from a good family. An only child, never causing any trouble. Listening to her parents, her teachers, her lecturers. Graduated with honors and getting her MD, even if it came as a surprise to those who knew her. She always gave an impression of a person who would focus rather on some humanistic studies like  literary science or philology.

Her choice however was deeply rooted in her past, in her good family heritage.

You know this saying that every family has its secret. Some of them have more than it seems, and sometimes so called good ones are truly the worst, after you strip them from all the window dressing and hypocrisy.

Y/N had to be good and avoid trouble. Otherwise, any manifestation of disobedience, even the slightest would be met with extensive punishment. Most of the times leaving her with literal bruises, that she had to learn to cover and in tears and sobs that she had to muffle to avoid harsh words and accusation of her being weak and pathetic. Both of her parents were esteemed at work, mum being a CEO and dad a computer programmer and were extremely busy. To say the least, they have little to no time to take care of a kid, more often than not leaving Y/N wondering why the hell did they decide to have one in the first place. Their relationship was based on the how was school, did you do your homework  and what grade did you get from the test questions. And that was only from her mother, her dad never cared enough to even form them. Excusing himself with tiredness and the argument that woman should be taking emotional care of the kid, especially a girl.

All things considered, Y/N was lonely. She did not really have any friends, because how can you form any relationship if you have no good patterns of how it should look like. How can you connect with someone when all you know are quiet evenings filled with work and avoiding another members of the family. What was surprising about her, was that despite all this gloominess and coldness stemming from her closest surrounding she developed this quiet, inner happiness, calmness and peace. When there was problem she was the one to keep straight head and solve it. When someone was in distress she was the one to ease the situation and placate the conflict. But despite that, she was lonely. Always looking for something more, trying to make it better for people who were less privileged then her. And that was how she ended up volunteering at the convent under sister Maggie’s guidance.

She quickly proved herself to be great working with kids, and Maggie warmed up to this optimistic, energetic soul in a way that surprised and delighted father Lantom. It’s been three years of her work there now and she gained sympathy and trust of both.

***

 “Hey there little guy” Y/N entered the room when Tommy was placed. His back was to the door but he turned around as soon as he heard the girl’s voice.

“Hi, miss Y/N.”

“Some little bird told me you had a hard night?”

“I wasn’t sleeping” he rubbed his eyes with fists, looking so small and fragile, Y/N heart was breaking.

“Come here.” she sat on the edge of the bed and opened her arms, in which the boy immediately dived in. This poor little one, abandoned by his mother was in desperate need of warmth and whatever little joy could be given. And Y/N was more than willing to give hugs to him. “Did you have nightmares, again?” he muttered something, hiding face in her sweater “come on, Tommy, I need you to use human language.” She laughed

“It was the clown.” He pulled away, a few tears dripping down his cheeks

“Again? Oh, you poor thing.” Y/N caressed his cheeks rubbing the water away “was it that guy at school again?”

“Yes. He’s making me scared…..”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll settle that matter” she embraced him once again rocking gently from side to side “and in the meantime…..”

“Why is the time mean?”

“Oh, no, it’s not like….. “ the girl could not stop the giggle. Luckily the boy smiled as well, dispelling her worries that he might feel laughed at “ you know what, in fact, we are going to have a really, really nice time. I got a new book if you are interested. No clowns there. How does that sound?“

“Ok.” he mumbled

“Ok? Good. I’m gonna pick it up in just a second…..”

“Can you hug me some more?” the boy asked

“Sure, Tommy. We got time here.”

“Y/N?” Lantom was like a literal ghost, appearing out of shadows, out of nowhere “how’s out little fella doing?”

“I think it’s nothing  a good story and a serious talk with certain guy from room 11 could not fix.”

“Was it Anton again?”

“Mhm. Unfortunately. I’ll talk to him.”

“I think this boy may need some more seriousness than you can treat him with.”

“I can be serious.” She scoffed moving towards Lantom with twinge in her eyes, causing Tom to hold onto her tighter and  whimper.

“That’s good. Because we got one serious matter we need to discuss.”

“We being me and you, father?”

“We being you, me and sister Maggie.”

“Oh. I don’t know if I’m worthy enough.”

“You are the most trustworthy person we know, Y/N.”

“All right then. I’ll meet you after I make sure Tommy is taken care of.”

***

“You want to me to take care of a guy in the basement.” She repeated, both Lantom and Maggie watching her reaction carefully. She showed no emotions and it was hard to guess what was going inside her head. “Is he in need?”

“Yes.”

“All right then.” she shrugged “I’ll help.”

“Just like that? No more questions?”

“Why would I need any? If you trusted him enough to take him in. It’s not like he is the daredevil, right?" she smirked (not realising how shocked her interlocutors were for a moment) "So of course I’ll help. Should I go now?”

“You know the way.” Lantom managed to say, since Maggie couldn't force herself to say a word.

“On it, father.” she smiled, using her typical sentence and walked away.

“I think we made a mistake here, Paul.”

“She’ll be fine. She’s gentle but not naïve and know how to take care of herself.”

“I still think we made a mistake.”

to be continued (part 2 is up)

@pinksirensong

[theetherealbloom]

NOTRE DAME - CH. 2

Chapter 2: Sinners Come And Go

Summary: In the rafters of Clinton Church, a mysterious reader with the power of illusion manipulation silently watches over Matt Murdock, the blind vigilante known as Daredevil. As danger engulfs Hell's Kitchen, their unlikely friendship blossoms into a bond of trust and longing, intertwining their fates in a battle against darkness that tests their resolve. Will their connection illuminate a path to salvation in a city of darkness or lead them deeper into the abyss?

Paring: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Hurt to Comfort, ANGST, friends-to-lovers, Religion, Fluff, Anxiety, PSTD, Nightmares, Catholic Guilt, Amnesia, Violence, Blood, Dark Undertones, Eventual SMUT, Shy Reader, Mentions of Abuse, 

Word Count: 8.3k

A/N: HELLO UH!??!1 YA’LL ARE TOO KIND WHAT T^T You have no idea how nerve-wracking it is to write a Mattew Murdock fic because the perfectionist in me is afraid to get things wrong or things don’t connect or make sense ._. ANYWAYS… ENJOY MY WORD VOMIT.

Song: Mirage by Elina

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dividers @/saradika-graphics

HELL’S KITCHEN, CLINTON CHURCH – DAY

As you step out of the church, the bells ring in the distance, and your thoughts focused on the errands Sister Maggie entrusted to you, you almost miss a step and stumble forward. A startled yelp escapes your lips as you regain your balance, feeling a surge of embarrassment wash over you. At that moment, your eyes dart toward the nearby bench, and your breath catches in your throat.

There he is, Matthew Murdock, sitting with his cane resting against the fence gate. His neatly tailored grey tuxedo and tinted red glasses hint at a man who exudes confidence. Father Paul Lantom joins him on the bench, taking a seat beside him.

Realizing you've stumbled upon an intimate conversation, you instinctively begin to back away, hoping to go unnoticed. But Father Lantom's voice cuts through the air, calling your name, and you wince, feeling caught in the sudden attention. Reluctantly, you stop in your tracks, anxiety pulsing through your veins.

Father Lantom's gaze meets yours, and he motions for you to approach. The mixture of concern and curiosity in his eyes only heightens your unease. Gathering your courage, you cautiously step forward, bracing yourself for this unexpected encounter.

Father Lantom's voice holds a touch of warmth as he addresses Matthew. "I'd like you to formally meet Matthew Murdock, the one you've been asking me about," he says, his words punctuated by a friendly smile. Matthew, ever casual, interjects, "Matt is fine. You've been asking about me?"

Your heart races in your chest as you come face-to-face with the man you've heard whispers about, the enigmatic figure who walks the line between justice and darkness. The knowledge of his secret identity sends a surge of adrenaline through your veins, intensifying the already charged atmosphere. You struggle to find your voice, transfixed by his presence, unable to utter a single word.

Meanwhile, Matt's heightened senses pick up on the rapid thud of your heartbeat, an anomaly amidst the ambient sounds of the city. He furrows his brow, curiosity piqued by the accelerated rhythm that betrays your nervousness. His keen instincts compel him to analyze every detail, searching for answers to the enigma before him. 

Father Lantom, sensing your apprehension, redirects the conversation. "Allow me to introduce you," he says, gesturing towards you. With a gentle push, he prompts you to step closer. The world seems to slow down as you find yourself standing in front of Matthew Murdock, nerves tightening your grip. You spot the wound on the right side of his temple, fresh and red.

Matt's reddish-tinted glasses hint at eyes that he cannot see, yet his unsteady gaze feels piercing and perceptive. His voice carries a hint of curiosity as he speaks to you. "You've been asking about me?" he repeats, his tone inviting.

You muster the courage to respond, but instead, an odd noise escapes your lips—a mixture of surprise, nervousness, and the jumbled thoughts swirling in your mind. Father Lantom, concerned, leans in and asks, "Are you okay?"

You manage a nod, although your emotions remain tangled and your words trapped. It's an overwhelming moment, standing before the enigmatic man who walks a path shrouded in darkness.

"It's nice to meet you," you manage to say, your voice wavering slightly with nervousness. "Uh, I have to go, and you are probably extremely busy, and I have some errands to run. Bye." With those hurried words, you turn to leave, feeling a mix of relief and regret that the encounter was so brief.

Father Lantom watches you as you walk away, his gaze filled with a mixture of concern and curiosity. He calls out to you, reminding you to be safe and not to return late like you did the previous night. The reminder strikes a chord within you, reminding you of the events that had occurred.

You offer a quick wave of acknowledgment to Father Lantom, a silent promise to heed his advice, before hastening your steps and practically running away. As you depart, you can't help but sense Matt's intrigue, his uneven gaze lingering on your retreating form. It's as if he detected something in your reaction, a flicker of recognition or understanding. His curiosity piques, and a hint of suspicion tinges on his thoughts. He wonders what Father Lantom might have said to elicit such a reaction from you.

Unable to ignore his curiosity, Matt turns to Father Lantom and asks, "Who was she?" There's a hint of guardedness in his voice, his instincts as a vigilant protector on high alert.

Father Lantom, ever the wise and compassionate priest, responds calmly. "She's a hardworking young woman who often helps out around the church, community centers, and hospitals," he begins. "She came back late last night after spending time with one of her friends. Completely exhausted when she returned."

Matt listens intently, his senses attuned to every word. He carefully considers Father Lantom's explanation, piecing together the fragments of information. There's something intriguing about you, something that transcends mere chance encounters.

Father Lantom continues, his tone filled with admiration. "She has a strong sense of responsibility and dedication. I've seen her commitment firsthand. She's a remarkable individual." His words hold a note of respect and appreciation for your character, subtly urging Matt to reconsider any suspicions he might harbor.

Matt's response is a thoughtful hum, his mind working through the puzzle that is you. There's a part of him that remains cautious, cautious of the secrets that lurk in the shadows. But beneath that caution lies a growing curiosity, a desire to unravel the enigma that is the young woman who crossed his path.

As the conversation between Father Lantom and Matt continues, you find yourself distanced from their words, lost in your thoughts. The encounter has left an indelible impression, and the significance of this meeting begins to weigh heavily on your mind.

METRO-GENERAL HOSPITAL – AFTERNOON

With the groceries safely delivered to the church, you embark on another journey, a more personal purpose drives this time. Making a swift detour to the nearby flower shop, you carefully select a beautiful bouquet of Bluebells, their vibrant hues capturing the essence of hope and renewal. 

Entering the familiar halls of Metro-General Hospital, you exchange warm greetings with one of the nurses, their friendly smiles brightening the atmosphere. Their words convey the anticipation of someone awaiting your arrival, and they mention Doris, someone who has been eagerly looking forward to seeing you. You respond with a gentle chuckle, a mixture of affection and amusement lacing your voice, "Yes, I'm here to see Doris. I had a few errands to run, but I brought some flowers for her."

As you make your way through the hospital corridors, a comforting warmth envelops your heart, knowing that this small act of kindness will bring joy to someone cherished. With a gentle tap on her door, you hear a soft voice inviting you in. Opening the door, you find her sitting upright in bed, her frail form nestled amidst the sea of white sheets. 

"I was starting to think you had forgotten about me," she teases, a mischievous glimmer in her eyes.

"Forget about you? Never," you reply playfully, a smile spreading across your face. 

"I'm just tryin’ to stick around long enough to see you married," she quips, her voice filled with love and concern. A hearty chuckle escapes your lips as you place the bouquet of Bluebells delicately into the vase beside her bed.

"If you have any suggestions, let me know because damn, the selection pool is tiny," you remark, a hint of playfulness in your voice. Doris raises an eyebrow, her gaze filled with knowing. "I have a feeling you've already met someone," she says with a knowing smile. Your cheeks flush with embarrassment at her sudden accusation.

"What? Me? No," you stammer, attempting to hide the truth behind a feeble denial. Deep down, though, you know there might be a sliver of truth to her intuition. Taking a seat beside her, you feel her soft touch as she gently holds your hands, her touch both tender and reassuring. The rhythmic strokes against your knuckles feel like a soothing melody, as if she's taming a wild creature with her gentle caress. 

"So, how is Ben holding up with the story he's chasing?" you inquire, your attention fully focused on Doris's response.

She rolls her eyes fondly, a mix of admiration and concern evident in her expression. "You know how he can get," she replies with a hint of a smile. You nod, understanding the relentless pursuit of truth that drives Ben.

"Maybe he's chasing the truth," you offer, contemplating the cost it may come with. Doris looks at you, her eyes filled with a motherly worry. "Maybe... I'm just worried that it might cost him something he cannot give back."

You nod once more, acknowledging her concerns. "The world needs more people like Ben," you say, your voice filled with conviction. "To shed light on the truth when no one else will. To have courage."

Doris reaches out and squeezes your hand, her eyes brimming with pride. "And the world needs more people like you too, my dear," she says softly. "People who bring kindness and light wherever they go."

Somewhere between then and now, irony found its place in your vocabulary, intertwining with your thoughts and experiences. Laughter, once a simple expression of joy, now carried the weight of bittersweetness and guilt. Sacrifice, once noble and selfless, became a mask for hidden shame. The haunting echoes of unnecessary deaths clung to you, a nightmarish burden that refused to let go.

In that elusive space between then and now, you grasped the profound truth that every action you took rippled through the world, leaving an indelible impact like the waves on an ocean stirred by a skipping stone. The concept of karma, once abstract, gained substance and became as palpable as the taste of seawater on your lips. It revealed itself as an undeniable force, shaping the intricate tapestry of existence and weaving its threads through your life.

Doris catches the flicker of longing in your eyes, sensing a shift in your mood that she can't quite pinpoint. Just as she's about to comment on it, a gentle knock resonates through the room, drawing your attention to the door. You turn, and there stands Ben, framed in the doorway, his presence both comforting and unexpected.

"Hi, Ben! Doris and I were just discussing your escapades," you greet him with a warm smile, noticing the forms he's holding in his hand.

Ben chuckles, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, really? I hope you were saying good things about me."

Doris joins in with a playful tone. "Well, we were just about to share all your deepest, darkest secrets."

Laughter fills the room as you engage in a lighthearted and witty conversation, exchanging banter and teasing remarks. The connection between the three of you is palpable, a testament to the bond you share.

Eventually, the topic shifts to Ben's work, and you inquire about his latest story. His expression turns slightly rueful as he replies, "Elisson put me on another fluff piece."

​​You can't help but roll your eyes in mock exasperation. "Let me guess, the Subway line? They know how to keep you on your toes, don't they?" Ben lets out a defeated sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly. "You have no idea. It's like they think I can't handle anything more substantial."

You shake your head sympathetically, understanding his frustration. "Well, just remember, even the smallest stories can have an impact. You have a way of uncovering the truth and shedding light on the overlooked."

A small smile tugs at the corner of Ben's lips, gratitude shining in his eyes. "Thanks. I appreciate the reminder. I'll make the most of it." You nod, offering him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "I have no doubt about that. Keep doing what you do best."

As you continue the conversation with Ben and Doris, you suddenly remember an urgent task waiting for you at the courthouse. Your expression shifts, and a touch of concern enters your eyes.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I just realized I have to pick up some important files from the courthouse," you explain, your voice laced with a sense of urgency. "There's a case I've been working on, and the deadline to submit the documentation is approaching. I need to get those files and review them before it's too late."

You glance at Ben, hoping he understands the pressing nature of your responsibility. "I promise I'll catch up with you later. We can continue our conversation then," you assure him, hoping to alleviate any disappointment.

Doris, perceptive as ever, gives you a knowing smile. "Don't worry about us, dear. We understand the importance of your work. Go ahead and take care of what you need to. We'll be here when you're done."

Feeling reassured by their understanding, you bid them a quick goodbye and make your way out of the hospital, your mind already focused on the tasks awaiting you at the courthouse.

NEW YORK STATE SUPREME COURT BUILDING – AFTERNOON

As you arrive at the courthouse to pick up the important files for your case, you find yourself drawn to the sounds of an ongoing hearing. Curiosity sparks within you, and a nagging feeling urges you to step inside the courtroom.

With the files safely in your possession, you discreetly find a seat in the back, hoping to observe the proceedings without drawing too much attention. It's at this moment that you realize the case being presented is none other than the trial of John Healy, and to your surprise, Matt and his partner are the defense attorneys.

With an exasperated sigh, you raise your eyes toward the ceiling, silently questioning God or some higher being in the universe as to why your path continues to intertwine with Matt's. The repeated encounters and the unexplainable pull you feel toward him have started to test your patience.

In your moments of frustration, you can't help but wonder if there's some higher force at play, orchestrating these seemingly chance encounters. It feels as if the universe itself is teasing you, nudging you toward a connection that you're not sure you're ready for.

Your eyes shift from the ceiling, bringing your attention back to the present moment. An intriguing mix of annoyance and curiosity swirls within you as you find yourself once again in close proximity to Matt. The mysterious dance of fate continues to weave its threads, leaving you uncertain about the significance of these encounters.

Your nervousness is palpable. The weight of anticipation settles upon your shoulders, making every beat of your heart resound in your ears. Matt's heightened senses come alive. His heightened hearing tunes into the rhythm of your heartbeat, the subtle scent that lingers around you, and even the nervous energy in the movement of your bouncing leg. It's as if he's attuned to every aspect of your presence, effortlessly picking up on the signals that betray your inner state.

It's as if Matt has unlocked a hidden dimension of perception, attuned to the nuances that others overlook. At this moment, he becomes an observer of your inner world, effortlessly deciphering the signals that betray your emotions. His acute senses offer him glimpses into your state of mind, painting an intricate portrait of your presence.

But for you, this silent exchange remains unknown. Lost in your thoughts, you are oblivious to the fact that your every heartbeat, every scent, and every nervous movement is meticulously captured by his extraordinary perception. Your inner struggles become part of a symphony that plays only for him, a delicate dance of emotions that silently unfolds.

"Mr. Murdock, we're waiting," the judge's voice breaks the silence, his commanding presence urging Matt to refocus his attention on the courtroom. Matt quickly offers his apologies, "Sorry, Your Honor."

Taking a deep breath, Matt sighs, his body shifting slightly as he gathers his thoughts. He speaks with an air of exasperation, his voice smooth as velvet, each word carrying weight. "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, forgive me if I seem distracted. Lately, I've found myself preoccupied with questions of morality, of right and wrong, of good and evil."

There's a pause, as if the room holds its breath, anticipating his next words. Matt's confidence fills the air, his voice resonating with conviction. "Sometimes, the delineation between the two is a sharp line, clearly defined. Sometimes, it's a blur, difficult to discern. And often, it's like pornography. You just know it when you see it."

A ripple of laughter ripples through the courtroom, the tension momentarily lifted by Matt's skillful infusion of humor. Even you, caught up in the gravity of the moment, can't help but let a smile escape your lips.

"A man is dead," Matt continues, his tone shifting to one of solemnity, "I don't mean to make light of that fact. But these questions, these questions… are vital ones… because they tether us to each other… to humanity. Not everyone feels this way. Not everyone sees the sharp line, only the blur.”

His words hang in the air, their weight resonating within the courtroom. "A man is dead," Matt begins, his voice measured and deliberate. He pauses, allowing the gravity of those words to sink in. Licking his lips, he emphasizes the point once more, "A man is dead. And my client, John Healy, took his life. This is not in dispute. It is a matter of record, of fact. And facts have no moral judgment. They merely state what is, not what we think of them, not what we feel. They just are."

As the room listens intently, Matt shifts his stance, "What was in my client's heart when he took Mr. Prohaska's life, whether he is a good man or something else entirely, is irrelevant," he asserts. "These questions of good and evil, as important as they are, have no place in a court of law. Only the facts matter."

Matt gestures towards Healy, making his point clear. "My client claims he acted in self-defense. Mr. Prohaska's associates have refused to make a statement regarding the incident. The only other witness, a frightened young woman, has stated that my client was pleasant and friendly, and that she only saw the struggle with Mr. Prohaska after it had started. Those are the facts. Based on these, and these alone, the prosecution has failed to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that my client was not acting solely in self-defense. And those, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, are the facts."

He takes a few steps away from the jury, gesturing to Healy once more. "My client, based purely on the sanctity of the law which we've all sworn an oath to uphold, must be acquitted of these charges," Matt declares. His voice carries conviction and determination. "Now, beyond these walls," he points upwards, alluding to a higher being, "he may well face a judgment of his own making. But here, in this courtroom, the judgment is yours and yours alone."

Returning to his seat, Matt concludes his closing argument, leaving the jury to contemplate their decision. As you sit there, impressed by his eloquence and the strength of his words, you watch the jury's expressions shift, each member deep in thought. The weight of their responsibility is evident, as they hold the power to determine the fate of John Healy.

As the judge enters the courtroom and takes her seat, signaling for everyone to be seated, a sense of anticipation fills the air. You observe the room, taking note of the individuals present. That's when a tall Caucasian man with glasses and curly hair takes a seat next to you. His neat and tidy appearance suggests a person with a strict schedule and a methodical approach to life. Your attention shifts to Matt, noticing his slight head tilt in your direction, indicating his keen listening to the man's wristwatch.

An envelope is handed to the judge, who proceeds to open and read its contents. "Madam Foreperson, it's my understanding from this note that you have been unable to reach a verdict," she states. The old lady among the jury stands and confirms, "We have not, Your Honor."

Your eyes widen in surprise. The jury is hung, and an Allen Charge is issued. The judge addresses the courtroom, emphasizing the importance of the case and the significant investment of time, effort, money, and emotional strain for both the defense and prosecution. She highlights the potential consequences of a failure to reach a verdict, explaining that the case would remain open and might need to be retried. The judge further emphasizes that another trial would only increase costs without any guarantee of a better or more exhaustive outcome.

Your gaze shifts to Matt, who has removed his glasses, revealing a resigned expression. Your eyebrows furrow in disbelief. They should have won. At that moment, the man sitting next to you leans over and whispers, "One hell of a trial, hm?" You glance at him and nod, acknowledging the intensity and complexity of the situation.

As the courtroom empties and the trial comes to an end, you stand alongside the others, preparing to leave and hoping to avoid any encounters with Matt. The man who had been seated next to you earlier has already departed. Taking a moment to gather yourself, you step out of the courtroom doors, relieved to be away from the tense atmosphere.

Just as you're about to make your way out of the courthouse, a distant voice calls out your name. Turning in its direction, you see a woman approaching with her young daughter, their faces filled with a mix of gratitude and hope. You recognize them as Amanda and Lily, a mother and daughter who had been victims of abuse at the hands of Amanda's ex-husband.

Amanda approaches you, her eyes welling with tears, and asks for a hug. Overwhelmed by the emotions of the day, you embrace her tightly, holding back tears of your own. She expresses her heartfelt thanks, explaining that she had tried to contact you before but was prevented from doing so due to safety concerns. She tells you that her abuser, Mark, is now behind bars, and it's all thanks to your intervention and support.

Feeling humbled, you try to downplay your role, telling Amanda that you were just doing your job. But she insists, her voice filled with conviction, "No, you did so much more than that. You helped us find safety and gave us the courage to fight back. You're our hero."

As Amanda speaks, Lily, her seven-year-old daughter, tugs at your pants, clutching her stuffed animal tightly. You crouch down to her level, and she looks at you with wide, grateful eyes. Holding up her stuffed animal, she says with a shy smile, "This is Mr. Cuddles. He wants to say thank you too. You're our superhero."

Touched by their words, a tear or two slips down your cheeks. You shake your head in disbelief, feeling honored to have played a part in their journey toward healing and safety. "You know," you say, your voice filled with emotion as you tuck a strand of her hair, "Lily's bravery and your strength, were the true superpowers that brought us here today."

Unbeknownst to you, Matt and Foggy have been silently observing the heartfelt interaction from a distance. Foggy's face is adorned with a small smile, finding solace in witnessing the positive impact you've had on the lives of others. Meanwhile, Matt stands nearby, wearing his glasses once again and clutching his cane. His heightened senses detect a familiar presence, prompting a mix of suspicion and intrigue. He ponders the curious coincidence of crossing paths with you once more, wondering what it could mean in the grand scheme of things.

After bidding farewell to the mother and daughter, you embrace them one last time, cherishing the connection you've forged. As you lift your gaze, your heart skips a beat when you spot Matt standing alongside his associate, silently observing your interaction. Sensing a surge of emotions, you swiftly turn on your heels and hasten your steps, eager to put some distance between yourself and the courthouse.

As you navigate the bustling streets of the city, a sense of solace washes over you amid the crowd. You reassure yourself that Matt remains unaware of your true identity and abilities. In his perception, you are simply a volunteer at the church, a passing acquaintance. However, an unsettling tremor of unease creeps into your thoughts, causing your senses to heighten. The nagging feeling of being watched lingers, evoking a shiver down your spine.

Casting a fleeting glance over your shoulder, you quicken your steps in an attempt to shake off the eerie sensation. The bustling crowd provides no answers, leaving you to dismiss the feeling as mere paranoia. Determined to carry on, you refocus your attention straight ahead, your sights set on reaching the church and delving into the paperwork clasped tightly in your hands.

Unbeknownst to you, Matt's curiosity had been piqued by your encounters and his instincts led him to silently trail your steps. Though you had committed no wrongdoing and had demonstrated your dedication to the community, his blind trust in his senses drove him to observe you from a distance. With each measured tap of his cane, creating a familiar rhythm, pedestrians instinctively made way for him as he kept a careful ear on your movements, unable to retract the decision to follow once it had been set in motion.

CLINTON CHURCH – SUNSET

Stepping into the hallowed sanctuary of the church, a sense of tranquility washes over you. The soft glow of candlelight dances on the walls, casting an ethereal ambiance. The faithful, lost in their prayers, offer a gentle backdrop of silence.

With reverence, you navigate through the aisles, careful not to disturb those seeking solace. The weight of the files pressed against your chest serves as a reminder of the important work that lies ahead. Determined, you make your way towards Clinton's church office, a sanctuary within the sanctuary.

Inside the office, the familiar scent of aging books and polished wood greets you, creating an atmosphere of quiet industry. You settle in, placing the files on the desk before you, ready to dive into the tasks that await. But first, you take a moment to offer a silent prayer of your own, seeking guidance and strength to fulfill your responsibilities within the sacred walls of the church.

Lost in your work, the minutes slip away unnoticed. The rhythmic tapping of keys on your laptop fills the room, creating a sense of productivity and focus. It's only when a sudden knock interrupts your concentration that you jolt in surprise, nearly toppling over in your chair. 

Your eyes widen as you take in the sight of Matthew Murdock standing before you. The unexpected encounter catches you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. Matt takes a few steps closer, concern etched on his features, and asks if you're okay.

Blinking rapidly, you find your voice, though it betrays a hint of nervousness as you stand up, "Uh, yes, I'm fine. Just startled. Is there something I can help you with? Are you looking for Father Lantom?"

A charming smile graces Matt's face, causing a flutter in your chest. He responds, his voice smooth and captivating, "Actually, I wanted to speak with you."

Slightly leaning back, skepticism tugs at your brows, "Me? What about?"

Matt's smile remains unwavering, seemingly attuned to the subtle changes in your physiology. His heightened senses pick up on the rapid rise of your breath and the accelerated rhythm of your heart. As he takes in your scent, a mixture of nervousness and natural pheromones, his smile widens further.

"My friend and partner, Foggy, and I happened to overhear your conversation with the mother and her daughter," Matt reveals, his voice resonating with warmth and sincerity. "We were deeply moved by your dedication to helping those in need, people like her."

His words hang in the air, carrying a sense of genuine admiration and shared purpose. Matt's ability to perceive the nuances in your demeanor adds an air of intrigue to his presence. “Both of us, we’d like to offer our legal services in those cases. Pro bono if necessary.”

You find yourself momentarily lost for words, your mind racing as you grasp the card in your hands. You notice the intricate details, including the raised braille text, a thoughtful addition that resonates with you. Your fingers glide over the bumps, feeling the embossed characters as if trying to decipher the tactile message they convey.

A soft smile forms on your lips as you finally look up at Matt, gratitude and a touch of curiosity gleaming in your eyes. "Thank you," you say sincerely, your voice filled with appreciation. "I'll be sure to keep this card safe and reach out if the need arises."

The electric connection you felt when your fingers briefly brushed lingers in the air, leaving an indelible impression on your senses. You tuck the card into your pocket, holding onto the promise it represents.

A FEW DAYS LATER…

ST. AGNES ORPHANAGE – NIGHT

You balanced the phone between your ear and shoulder, deftly maneuvering through the remaining dishes as you washed them. The sound of running water created a soothing backdrop to your conversation with Claire.

"Claire, I'm calling to see if I can come over with the wine tonight, the one I bought last time around?" you asked, your voice filled with anticipation. The children had just finished dinner, and now it was time for some well-deserved relaxation and catching up with your friend.

A warm chuckle resonated through the phone as Claire responded, "Yes, please! Oh, and you definitely owe me an explanation for the whole invisible thing you've got going on." Her playful tone brought a smile to your face, the familiarity of her teasing banter comforting.

Snorting softly, you replied, "It's actually more complicated than that. But sure, I'll be there in a few minutes."

As you hung up the phone, you glanced around the clean kitchen, satisfied with the completed task. Drying your hands on a nearby towel, you turned to see Sister Maggie, the ever-watchful presence in the church, smiling at you.

You rolled your eyes affectionately, knowing she had overheard your conversation. Sister Maggie's caring tone reached your ears as she said, "Be sure to bring some bread and cheese for her."

A genuine smile graced your lips, appreciating Sister Maggie's thoughtfulness. You nodded in agreement. "Of course," you replied, your voice filled with gratitude. "I wouldn't forget." With a sense of warmth and anticipation, you gathered the necessary provisions, ready to share an evening of laughter and friendship with Claire.

TENTH AND 54TH, APARTMENT 412 – EVENING

With the strap of your purse on your shoulder, a bottle of wine held firmly in one hand, while the aroma of freshly baked goods and cheese wafted from the bag in your other hand. Stepping up to Claire's front door, you raised your hand and knocked, the sound echoing in the quiet evening.

As the door swung open, Claire greeted you with a warm smile, her eyes flickering with curiosity. "Hey! Come on in," she said, stepping back to allow you entry into her cozy apartment.

Upon seeing your arrival, concern was etched across her face. Claire's voice held a touch of worry as she asked, "Did you walk here?" She knew all too well the dangers of traversing the city streets alone, especially after dark.

Shaking your head, you reassured her, "God, no. I took a cab." The thought of walking all the way from the church to her place seemed daunting, even for someone as independent as you. With the brief moment of concern dissipating, the two of you entered the inviting space, ready to unwind, share stories, and savor the simple joys of good company and delightful treats.

As the evening unfolded and a couple of glasses of wine were enjoyed with the cat curled up on your lap, happily purring as you stroked the soft black fur. You found yourself sharing more about your unique abilities with Claire. With a mixture of excitement and caution, you explained the essence of your illusion powers, drawing from your personal experiences and knowledge.

"I have these... abilities," you began, your voice tinged with a sense of wonder. "I can create illusions, like visual and auditory tricks that can deceive people's senses. It's as if I can bend reality and make things appear different from what they really are."

Claire's eyes widened with intrigue, her curiosity growing. She leaned closer, eager to learn more. "That's incredible," she exclaimed, her voice filled with fascination. "How did you discover this? Have you learned to control it?"

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, reflecting on your journey of self-discovery. "I had a mentor, but it took time to understand and harness this power," you replied. "Through practice and exploration, I've learned to control and manipulate the illusions to some extent. It's an ongoing process, but I think I’m getting better at it."

Claire nodded, absorbing the information with genuine interest. "That's amazing," she said, a smile playing on her lips. "You have a truly unique gift. I can only imagine the incredible things you can do with it."

You couldn't help but feel a sense of relief and comfort as Claire expressed her acceptance and awe towards your abilities. It was a rare opportunity to share this part of yourself with someone who could understand and appreciate it.

As the scraping and rattling sounds echo through the hallway, a wave of unease washes over you and Claire. Swiftly, Claire retrieves her phone from her purse and cautiously approaches the door, peering through the peephole. After a brief moment, she exhales in relief and lets out a chuckle.

"Just some old lady with a cart full of groceries," Claire reassures, her tension easing. She descends from her tiptoes and shakes her head at the unnecessary alarm. However, unbeknownst to both of you, ominous shadows cast by an unknown figure silently creep closer through the window behind you.

THE CITY OF NEW YORK POLICE DEPARTMENT 3RD PRECINCT – EVENING

"We're doing good here, Foggy," Matt affirms, a sense of contentment evident in his voice as his friend hails a cab for himself. Foggy raises an eyebrow and counters, "Are we?" 

Matt, reaching for his phone in his blazer pocket, reassures him, "Yeah, we're making a difference." Just as he retrieves the device, it starts ringing, interrupting their conversation. Matt quickly answers the call, saying, "Hey, uh, one sec," before turning his attention back to Foggy.

"Foggy, I'll see you tomorrow," Matt states, a hint of mystery in his voice. Foggy, suspecting the reason behind the interruption, quips, "It's a girl, isn't it? You got a new phone just for your girls. My life sucks." He opens the door of the cab, ready to depart. Matt, wearing a knowing smile, bids him farewell, "Get home safe."

Finally, Matt puts the phone to his ear and greets the person on the other end, asking, "Hey, what's up?" Only to be responded with shrieking and yelling from the other end of the line.

As the Russian man held you tightly from behind, you could be heard kicking and screaming. Claire was desperately crawling across the floor, trying to reach the phone, but she was abruptly pulled back by the ankles by the second mobster.

“Claire? Claire, can you hear me?” You heard Matt's voice through the phone. You realized how much danger you and Claire were in. Your powers were about to surge when suddenly you were knocked out with the butt of a gun. You faintly heard Claire screaming your name as the two men carried you away into the night.

Matt hung up and felt his heart race with panic. He had no choice but to run into the street, folding his cane and darting into the nearest alleyway. He tossed his folded-up cane into a nearby trash bin, gaining momentum as he took a hard right and climbed atop a closed dumpster bin, before scaling over railings to get to the apartment where Claire was staying.

As he arrived at the apartment building, Matt's heart pounded in his chest, filled with worry for Claire's safety. He pushed the door open with urgency, causing it to swing violently on its hinges. Exhausted and breathless, he called out Claire's name, his voice filled with desperation.

Utilizing his heightened senses, Matt detected the faint electromagnetic waves emanating from Claire's phone. He swiftly located it and tossed it onto the table, relieved to have found it. However, the weight of his guilt and frustration overwhelmed him.

In a surge of anger, he grabbed a nearby dining chair and with a forceful swing, smashed it through the wall. The sound of splintering wood echoed through the apartment, a physical manifestation of his pent-up emotions. Matt stood there, panting heavily, as he tried to regain his composure amidst the wreckage.

Gradually, Matt's acute senses picked up on your familiar scent and presence within the apartment. The realization struck him—those men had taken you too. The weight of responsibility settled heavily on his shoulders as he questioned whether he was a harbinger of danger to those he cared about.

Taking a moment to center himself, Matt focused his heightened senses on the surroundings, seeking any clues or remnants of what had transpired. The lingering aroma of wine and cheese filled the air, indicating a friendship between you and Claire. The ethereal echoes of your presence, intertwined with Claire's, intensified his concern for your safety.

Moving swiftly, Matt navigated the apartment, guided by his heightened senses. He approached the partially open window and pushed it further, allowing the sounds of Hell's Kitchen to filter in. Leaning against the window ledge, he strained his ears, listening intently to the bustling streets below, hoping to catch any hints or whispers that could lead him closer to finding you.

As Matt focused his acute hearing, he sifted through the cacophony of voices and city sounds, honing in on the distinct Russian accents that caught his attention. Amidst the chaotic symphony, he detected the muffled screams of Claire, resonating with desperation and fear.

His heart sank as he discerned the sound of a car trunk slamming shut, accompanied by the absence of your heartbeat in his aural landscape. Worry surged through him, the possibility of you being severely injured or worse weighing heavily on his mind.

Determined to rescue both you and Claire, Matt swiftly devised a plan, relying on his honed senses and agile abilities. With a resolute expression, he runs out the door, embarking on a relentless pursuit to locate the car and free you from the clutches of your captors.

VELOS TAXI SERVICE – EVENING

You were abruptly awoken by a frigid deluge of water splashed onto your face, bringing you to full consciousness. You find yourself with your hands bounded behind your back, encircled by Russian mobsters, and as you look around, you see Claire slumped against one of the many parked taxis, coughing out blood and clearly battered. A man approaches you and you glare at him fiercely.

"If you cooperate, we won't have to resort to violence against you, nor will we have to keep hurting her," the man said in his thick Russian accent, gesturing with a metal bat toward Claire.

You resisted the urge to activate your powers, knowing that revealing your abilities would jeopardize not only your safety but also the lives of those at Clinton Church and St. Agnes. "What the fuck do you want?" you seethed, your voice filled with defiance. The man leaned closer, gripping your chin tightly. "Tell me his name," he demanded, his tone filled with menace.

You mockingly tilted your head at him, a defiant smirk playing on your lips. "His name? Oh, you mean the guy you're so desperate to find?" you taunted, despite the dire circumstances. "Why don't you try using those brain cells of yours to figure it out? Or are you too busy relying on violence and intimidation?"

The man's grip tightened on your chin, his eyes narrowing with anger. "Don't play games with me," he growled, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. "You think you're clever, but you're just making this harder for yourself and your friend."

You let out a dark chuckle, unyielding in the face of his threats. "Oh, I'm not playing games. I'm just enjoying watching you squirm," you retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "But let me give you a hint, tough guy. You're barking up the wrong tree."

That earns you a strike to your stomach and to the side of your face from a different man. You cough out blood and spit it out on the concrete floor. The man with the bat yells once more, “Give me his name!” To which you say nothing, merely sneeringly staring at him. This fuels his anger and his about to swing the bat to your head a man blocks it before he strikes you while saying to his fellow mobster in Russian, “Sergei… Vladimir told us not to kill her until one of them talks.”

Sergei sighs and says as he walks a few steps away from you, “This gives me no pleasure. It really doesn’t. But I have been given a job to do. So please, answer the questions that I was told to ask.” He then points the metal bat to your chest and raising it to lift your chin, “Or I will begin breaking you, a piece at a time.”

You steal a quick glance at Claire, her eyes brimming with fear and pain, silently begging you to find a solution that won't compromise Matt’s identity. Your body quivers with exhaustion, blood trickling down your head and nose from the merciless beating you endured.

With a feeble chuckle, you manage to utter, "An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and a fracture for a fracture. The one who caused the harm should suffer the same fate. But honestly, that seems a little too fair, don't you think?" The mobsters exchange confused glances, unsure how to respond to your unexpected remark. The tension in the air grows palpable as they hesitate, momentarily thrown off balance by your defiance.

Suddenly, the lights of the taxi service garage shut down, cascading all of you in a blanket of darkness. Sergei begins demanding orders to his other men while Claire begins to laugh, “You want his name?” she says, “Ask him yourself.”

They begin to turn on the headlights of their parked taxi’s, the yellow lights barely give any visibility. Utilizing your abilities discreetly, you create subtle illusions, distorting the mobsters' perceptions. Shadows dance and figures appear in the corners of their vision, distracting them from the real threat.

As Matt moves with astonishing agility and precision, the mobsters swing their weapons blindly, striking nothing but empty air. With each swing and bullet they waste, they grow more frustrated and disoriented, falling prey to the illusions you strategically place in their line of sight.

One mobster, driven by anger and desperation, charges towards Matt, unaware of the trap that awaits him. You project a convincing illusion of a wall directly in the assailant's path, causing him to crash into it with a resounding thud.

Seizing the opportunity, Matt springs into action, his enhanced senses guiding his every move. He swiftly incapacitates one mobster after another, his punches and kicks landing with calculated accuracy. The sound of bones cracking and groans of pain fill the air as the fight intensifies.

In the midst of the chaos, you continue to manipulate the shadows, obscuring your presence and diverting attention away from Matt's relentless onslaught. The mobsters, bewildered by the illusions, struggle to differentiate between reality and deception. With each passing moment, the tide of the battle shifts in Matt's favor. His acrobatic maneuvers and precise strikes leave the mobsters battered and defeated.

As the exhaustion and physical strain reached their peak, you found yourself unable to maintain your balance, even while bound to the chair. Dizziness engulfed your senses, and waves of nausea washed over you relentlessly.

Claire's panicked voice filled the room, desperately calling out your name, but your body refused to respond. Despite your best efforts to stay conscious, the overwhelming fatigue won the battle, and you succumbed to unconsciousness, slumped in the chair, your head hanging forward.

Bound and helpless, you drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep, unaware of the chaos unfolding around you.

CLINTON CHURCH – EARLY MORNING

As you slowly regained consciousness, the sound of muffled voices reached your ears. Fluttering your eyes open, you found yourself greeted by the familiar figures of Sister Maggie and Father Lantom. A mixture of relief and apprehension washed over you as you tried to gather your thoughts.

Anxiety consumed you, and you blurted out, "Does Matt know? Does he know about me?" Your heart raced, fearing that your secret involvement with Matt's nightly activities had been exposed.

Father Lantom, his expression calm and understanding, shook his head gently, as if he had anticipated your concerns. He reassured you, "No, he doesn't know. We brought you here to ensure your safety. Matt dropped you off with us."

A wave of relief washes over you, your tense muscles finally relaxing. You nod, grateful that your secret remains intact. However, a hint of frustration lingers in Sister Maggie's voice as she voices her concerns about your willingness to put your life on the line for someone who remains oblivious to your assistance. She questions the fairness of your sacrifice.

"I don't understand," Sister Maggie says, her tone filled with frustration. "You're risking everything for Matt, and he doesn't even know the extent of your involvement. Is it truly fair to endanger yourself while he remains unaware?"

Taking a deep breath, you gather your resolve. You sense a hidden reason to Sister Maggie's concerns, but your conviction remains unshaken. In your determined voice, you reply, "Sister Maggie, sometimes doing what's right requires taking risks, even if it means staying hidden in the shadows. I believe in the greater cause, in fighting for justice, even if my efforts go unnoticed. Matt is out there every night, putting himself in harm's way for this city. It's only right that I do my part, even if it remains unknown to him. I trust that my support, can make a difference."

Sister Maggie's expression softens, a mix of concern and admiration in her eyes. She nods, realizing the strength of your conviction. "I understand your perspective," she says, her voice tinged with a touch of sadness. "Just promise me that you'll take care of yourself. The path you've chosen is a challenging one."

You meet Sister Maggie's gaze, determination burning in your eyes. "I promise, Sister. I'll do everything I can to stay safe. But I won't stop fighting for what's right."

With a nod of understanding, Sister Maggie gently embraces you, her silent support and belief in your cause reinforcing your determination. You know the road ahead will be treacherous, but your resolve remains unyielding. You are the silent guardian, the hidden ally, fighting for justice from the shadows, even if it means sacrificing recognition and remaining unknown to the one you assist.

END NOTES: 

Whoever invented 7am to 6pm classes with a one hour break being 12pm-1pm… I hope you never have a working charger and that you always get stuck in traffic. And know that I haven’t prayed in a while but I literally started to pray for an asteroid to come and hit me bcs I was completely exhausted today and I wasn’t totally sure if any of this makes sense… yay!

Obviously, Matt isn’t all that stupid. He’s more than likely going to check on you in a few days but like discreetly, not in a way he knows something had happened. Claire eventually has to leave but there’s obv a few things in between to tie up some loose ends.

When I got home I just sat in the shower and stared at the tiles for a good half-hour because yes, I was that tired. 10/10 would recommend.

Tbh, when I started this series I was like, hrm what if I just skip S1, S2, and immediately jump to S3. Yeah… nope.

Okay idk who reads this but yeah, I love you guys. You literally deserve all the good in the universe. <3

[henryfoxcd]

That's not how this works. What exactly are you about to do?

[inprogress-predicament]

Matt: I wish to beg repentance for a sin I am about to commit

Father Paul: For the last time, that’s not how our religion works

[ellicelluella]

Daredevil Photo Recap S03E02: Please

[cha-lii]

Father Lantom was a blessing to us all and deserved better

[ljones41]

"DAREDEVIL" Season Three (2018) Commentary

"DAREDEVIL" SEASON THREE (2018) COMMENTARY The last episode of the Marvel Netflix limited series, "THE DEFENDERS", ended with costume vigilante Matt Murdock aka Daredevil asking his compatriots - Jessica Jones, Luke Cage and Danny Rand aka Iron Fist - to leave the Hand's crumbling headquarters, while he remain behind to convince his former girlfriend Elektra Natchios to leave with him. The Midland Circle building crumbled to the ground. And the limited series' last scene featured a battered Matt waking up in a room with a nun by his side. Season Three of "DAREDEVIL" conveyed Matt's further adventures following the Hand's destruction.

According to (3.01) "Resurrection", the first episode of "DAREDEVIL" Season Three; following Midland Circle's destruction, Matt had washed out of the New York City sewer system and a taxi driver found him. The driver delivered him to Father Paul Lantom, who entrusted Matt's care to a nun named Sister Maggie Grace at the Saint Agnes Orphanage, where Matt was raised. Matt spent a period wallowing in grief over Elektra's death and experiencing a crisis of faith. However, by the middle of "Resurrection", Matt had decided that he would prefer putting his life in danger as Daredevil than resume his civilian life. During this period, his two close friends Franklin "Foggy" Nelson and Karen Page, have no idea of his whereabouts and began to lose hope that he might still be alive. The season's main narrative arc began when imprisoned crime lord Wilson Fisk discovered that his lady love Vanessa Mariana could be charged as an accessory to his crimes. This discovery led Fisk to contact the F.B.I. and volunteer his services to snitch on existing criminal gangs in the New York City area. The F.B.I. Manhattan Office assigned Fisk's case to Special Agent Ray Nadeem and Fisk revealed intelligence on an Albanian crime syndicate. When news of his cooperation with the F.B.I. spread, Fisk's fellow inmates tried to kill him. This led Nadeem to move Fisk from prison to home detention. The attack on Fisk also caught Daredevil's attention after Albanian criminals tried to attack Fisk's convoy. While investigating this case, Karen learned that Matt might still be alive, but Foggy remained skeptical. The attack on Fisk also allowed him to form a relationship with the F.B.I. Special Agent that saved him during the convoy - a sharpshooter named "Dex" Pointdexter. The Fisk/Pointdexter relationship allowed the crime lord to use the Federal agent as a tool to take control of the F.B.I. Manhattan Office. On paper, this narrative seemed sound to me. Well, most of it. I really tried to enjoy Season Three of "DAREDEVIL". But the more I delved into the season, the more I found myself disliking it. By the time I finished Season Three, I found myself speculating that "DAREDEVIL" may have been an overrated series. Mind you, none of the Marvel Netflix shows were perfect. But I really got weary of everyone proclaiming how wonderful "DAREDEVIL" was. The more I thought about the series - and especially Season Three - the more I found it difficult to accept this view. Of the three seasons of "DAREDEVIL", I actually enjoyed Season One. Well, most of it. But I noticed how its pacing dragged in the middle of the season. The one episode that nearly dragged Season One to a halt was the very boring (1.10) "Murdock v. Nelson". Season Two struck me as nothing more than a narrative mess. I do not believe there was any ONE major narrative for Season Two. It seemed to be split between Daredevil's conflict with fellow vigilante Frank Castle aka the Punisher and Matt's relationship with former lover Elektra Natchios and their conflict with the Hand. The season's two narratives barely connected. Only Jon Bernthal and Elodie Yung's performance made that season bearable for me. But Season Three? Nearly everyone praised it to the skies and I thought I was going to find myself watching something wonderful. Boy, was I wrong! Before I had commenced upon Season Three of "DAREDEVIL", I assumed the first episode would reveal who had saved Matt's life following the destruction of the Midland Circle building in "THE DEFENDERS". Instead, (3.01) "Resurrection" revealed that after the building's collapse, Matt's injured body had washed into the New York City's sewer system before he was discovered by a taxi driver. Needless to say, I found this revelation very disappointing and rather hard to swallow. Worse, the episode had merely revealed what happened to Matt through dialogue. "THE DEFENDERS" had failed to visibly convey his escape from Midland Circle. Instead, the limited series' last episode merely ended with Matt waking up inside a room, with a nun by his side. I thought Season Three of "DAREDEVIL" would provide a scene featuring Matt's survival. Instead, showrunner/screenwriter Erik Oleson had merely fallen back upon the old mistake of "show and tell". He had decided to tell and not show. Which is not a good idea in visual media. "Resurrection" also featured a long and dry portrayal of another one of Matt's "crisis of faith" that bored the hell out of me. Matt spent this episode mourning over Elektra (which did not bother me, considering she was my favorite character in the series). But it also featured another one of Matt's struggles to decide whether he wanted to resume his life as a private citizen or as a violent vigilante. By the end of the episode, he chose the latter. And because he had done so, I found myself wondering what his character arc was about throughout the rest of Season Three. Actually, his season long character arc seemed to be more about how his grief over Elektra's death and his decision to fully embrace being the Daredevil had damaged his relationships with close friends Foggy Nelson and Karen Page. And you know what? I had no problem with Matt struggling with Elektra's death. But the conflict over his two friendships? Well, this struck me as old news. Why? Because previous seasons had also explored how Matt's activities as Daredevil threatened to damage his relationships with Foggy and Karen. It felt like a repeat that threatened to get old. What am I saying? It felt old. Period. The centerpiece of "DAREDEVIL" Season Three focused on the resurrection of gangster Wilson Fisk as a threat to New York City. I realized that Fisk is one of Marvel Comics' more iconic villains. And he proved to be a memorable villain during Season One. But I must be frank. The narrative surrounding his character simply failed to impress me. First of all, it took four episodes for Fisk to emerge as a threat again. Four episodes. That is one-third of the season. Second, this story produced some of the strangest and most implausible writing I have encountered within the Marvel Netflix series. Fisk managed to assume control of the F.B.I. Manhattan Office with the help of a psychotic F.B.I. sharpshooter named Benjamin "Dex" Pointdexter, whom he managed to corrupt by appealing to the latter's emotional issues. Fisk could not have achieved this through money, since Season Two had revealed his loss of most of his cash during his time in prison. So . . . one gangster, with the help of one rogue F.B.I. sharpshooter, managed to assume complete control of a F.B.I. field office. All because he had originally volunteered to snitch on other crime families in order to prevent his girlfriend-turned-wife Vanessa Mariana Fisk from serving time in prison. One would think the F.B.I. could have found other sharpshooters within its agency to take out Pointdexter aka Bullseye. But apparently, no one had considered this. What made this situation even more ludicrous was the media's vague portrayal of the F.B.I. as corrupt during this season. I am not claiming that the Federal agency has always been free of corruption. But this so-called corruption in "DAREDEVIL" came about due to threats of violence against the agency's employees and their families. Yet, according to the media, this made the F.B.I. Manhattan's Field Office completely corrupt. Not compromised, but corrupt. I also found Season Three's portrayal of the New York City Police Department equally problematic. Whereas the series tried to push the idea of the F.B.I. being completely corrupt, it portrayed the N.Y.P.D. as the moral center of law enforcement in New York City. The entire police force as a whole had protested against the F.B.I. using Wilson Fisk as an informer on other criminal gangs and organization without knowing the full details of Fisk's deal with the Federal agency. I found this position difficult to belief, let alone accept. Especially since many law enforcement agencies - at the Federal, state and local levels have used criminal informers to acquire intelligence on other criminals. Was this whole scenario set up to portray the N.Y.P.D. as "white knights" of the city? This struck me as a complete reversal of how the city's police was portrayed in Season One of "DAREDEVIL" and during the entire run of "LUKE CAGE". How did the N.Y.P.D. suddenly become imperious to corruption? When? Why? Speaking of the N.Y.P.D., this brings me to one aspect of "DAREDEVIL" that I have always found problematic - namely the series' racism. The local police were not the only ones disturbed by Fisk's deal with the F.B.I. Matt's friend, Franklin "Foggy" Nelson also became upset when he learned about the deal. He became so upset that he decided to run in the city's District Attorney election against the current one, Blake Tower. One of Foggy's steps in his election campaign was recruit the support of the N.Y.P.D. Union. This recruitment played out in (3.04) "Blindsided", in which Foggy held a meeting with the police union. For the cops' support, he not only promised to place Fisk in the deepest prison hole, but also militarize the N.Y.P.D. even further - an act sure to have consequences for oppressed or non-privileged groups. Foggy had pandered to the cops utilizing fear mongering and the entire sequence felt like something from a Nuremberg rally. What I found even more ludicrous is that the only cops that stood up to verbally express support of Foggy were all black. Was this Oleson's way of manipulating television audiences into accepting the idea of a more militarized police force? Foggy's campaign for District Attorney came to nothing for the season ended with him dropping from the race and reforming his partnership with Matt. But Foggy Nelson's meeting with the N.Y.P.D. Union was not the only questionable portrayal of race in "DAREDEVIL" Season Three. The latter also featured a scene in (3.03) "No Good Deed" in which Daredevil ambushed Fisk's attorney, Ben Donovan, inside the latter's car and strangled the latter (as a means of torture) in order to learn the endgame behind Fisk's decision to become a Federal informant. This scene proved to be the second time in which Matt Murdock aka Daredevil had tortured a black man in order to gain information. The first time I saw this happened was in an episode of "THE DEFENDERS" in which Matt had utilized strangulation as a means to torture the Hand's only black member. I felt just as disgusted by this scene with Donovan as I had, while watching "THE DEFENDERS". In fact, Season Three of "DAREDEVIL" featured a good deal of unnecessary violence against other characters, especially non-whites. But one of the worst examples of this situation occurred in "Blindsided". Early in the episode, Karen Page witnessed a group of young black men catcalling some young women on the street. After the latter walked away, Karen approached the men and pulled a gun on them in some effort to scare them from any future incidents of catcalling. This was so fucking dumb . . . and pretty insulting to boot. As a woman, I dislike dealing with catcallers. But having a white woman threaten black men with a gun, whose only crime was catcalling struck me as a useless and insulting act of racism. What in the fuck was Oleson thinking? The showrunner also subjected the series' viewers with (3.10) "Karen", a standalone episode about Karen's past with her family. The episode began with Karen hiding out at a New York City Catholic church after she had revealed to Fisk that she had killed his right-hand man, James Wesley, back in Season One two episodes ago. I thought that this episode would explain how Karen managed to become a newspaper journalist after being a secretary and a legal assistant. It never did. Instead, the improbability of Karen's new profession as a journalist remained intact, since she never went to college or studied journalism. I thought Karen's background would play some role in the season's main narrative. It never did. Eventually, I discovered the reason behind this episode in an interview that Oleson gave. He wanted to flesh out Karen's character and explore her backstory. Nothing more. Nothing less. I do not know how anyone else felt, but I thought this was a fucking waste of my time. The only bright spot in the entire season came from Jay Ali's portrayal of F.B.I. Special Agent Ray Nadeem. Agent Nadeem proved to be the most complex, yet sympathetic character in the entire season. At least for me. Oleson and Ali could have easily allowed Nadeem to be compromised by Fisk through the offer of cash. After all, he began the series as someone struggling with debt following his sister-in-law's operation for cancer. Thankfully, the series did not take the easy way out and allowed Fisk and Pointdexter's threat of violence against his family to compromise him. My only problem with Nadeem was his final fate. I hated it. "DAREDEVIL" has developed a reputation for its action sequences. I can think of one that nearly garnered my respect. I am referring to the sequence that featured Matt's infiltration of a local prison in order to speak with a prisoner with a connection to Fisk. Matt was forced to make his escape, while fighting off inmates and guards under Fisk's control. What began as an exciting action sequence stretched into one that nearly refused to die. It nearly went on . . . forever. I believe I eventually grew bored with it before Matt finally made his escape. And there was the final confrontation between Matt, Fisk and Dex. What can I say? It was a mess? Because I thought it was. After serving as Fisk's murder tool for several episodes, Dex learned from Daredevil in the finale (3.13) "A New Napkin" that his new best friend had been responsible for the murder of Julie Barnes, a waitress who had been his co-worker at a suicide hotline center and whom he found attractive. Dex went to the hotel where Fisk and Vanessa had their wedding in order to kill the crime boss. Matt went there to . . . stop Dex's murder attempt . . . arrest Fisk . . . kill Fisk? I have no idea. But it was one of the worst fight scenes I have ever viewed in a Marvel Cinematic Universe production. I do not know what else to say about "DAREDEVIL" Season Three other than I disliked it. Or that it was my least favorite season within the entire Marvel Netflix franchise. No amount of good acting or good action could save this season for me. Before one believes that I had loved "DAREDEVIL" before its final season . . . I did not. Honestly? Season One was the only one I found admirable, despite its flaws. I realize that it is highly regarded by television critics and fans of the franchise. But for the likes of me, I simply cannot share this opinion. Oh well.

[lixxen]

Saint Bernard (Matt Murdock x Male!Reader)

Saint Bernard - Matt Murdock x Male!Reader

Reader meets Matt in college and has a horrible past. He is genetically mutated and had powers forced upon him.

Song: Saint Bernard by Lincoln.

-----

Hung pictures of patron saints up on my wall 

Y/n stared up to the sky as the rain came pouring down upon Hell’s kitchen. The grey skies reminded him of his childhood, the walls that kept him prisoner. The walls that were covered in pictures of people he did not believe should have been there.

It wasn’t until he finally got to college, meeting Matthew Murdock, that he had believed in the world. Matthew Murdock became his patron saint. His key to freedom.

He had changed his major from religious studies to law, even if it pissed off the Church. Pissed off the Mass.

Matthew showed him a side of the world that he hadn’t known. It was wonderful.

To remind me that I am a fool. 

The Church didn’t approve of Matthew. He may have been Catholic, but he was a sinner. 

There was a rumor about Matthew within the Church; a hushed one that he was never to speak of around Matthew. Lucifer had taken control of a mortal man and seduced one of the Sisters, forcing her to bear one of his children. 

They told him that Matthew was the Devil, just like his father. To cast him aside and to come home.

But he never saw that in Matthew. He was a saint. He had his moments, but Matthew was wonderful. So he stayed by Matthew’s side.

That was until Elektra had shown up.

Tell me where I came from, what I will always be 

Once Elektra showed up, Matthew seemed to stray.

Y/n watched as Elektra came in and enticed him. They both shared common paths; being helped by a man who Y/n had never learned the name of. It made the two come together to create something that Y/n would finally call the Evil One.

The long nights that Y/n stayed up, waiting for Matthew with Foggy in the dorms.

“He always attracts the wrong type.” Foggy had commented. Y/n could barely agree, knowing what he knew.

Elektra was as beautiful as a coral snake. Gorgeous and enticing. One of the most dangerous and venomous.

Elektra looked at Y/n like he was just a child. She loved him like a young brother, but never recognized his strife.

Y/n never showed reciprocation. He couldn’t.

Just a spoiled little kid who went to catholic school. 

When Elektra dropped out of their lives, Matthew lashed out.

He drew away from Y/n and even casted out Foggy for a while. It hurt everyone around him.

Y/n had never understood normal lives, but he tried.

Y/n stood in the mirror many nights, staring at himself. Two doors over was Matthew and Foggy. They couldn’t understand what was in the mirror. No one truly could.

The shining in those eyes that had never experienced anything other than the Church. He knew that those eyes held a dangerous power. He had tried to tell Matthew one time, but it just wouldn’t come out.

When Elektra left, she told Y/n that he wouldn’t ever be anything more than a Catholic child, spoiled by the blessing of a loving life.

Oh how she was wrong.

When I am dead I won't join their ranks,

Y/n stood on top of the school dormitory, staring down at the people as the rain pelted down upon them. His face was blank as he observed them, going on with their lives without noticing him.

His eyes were glowing softly, his hand clenched like there should be something in it. His breathing was slow and shallow, picking up slightly as he stepped forward. One small step and he could fall to the ground, ending everything then and there.

The Church couldn’t control him here, as much as they tried. They couldn’t control life and death as much as they wished. The Mass couldn’t scream to him, ridicule him and thunder out of control. They couldn’t make his ears echo like a bell was hit when placed over his head.

'Cause they are both holy and free.

He had heard the door open behind him, someone joining him on the roof. His eyes dulled and he let his hand relax.

Turning, he saw Matthew standing there. He was wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, arms wrapped around himself. He didn’t have his cane.

“Matthew.” Y/n’s voice was barely a whisper.

He never understood how Matthew could do it all. He had freedom and no external ties.

Y/n was tied to the Church forever. He may have been seen as Holy, but he would never be. Not with what they did to him.

“Come down.” Matthew spoke softly, holding a hand out to Y/n. “Let’s talk.”

Y/n reached a hand out, taking Matthew’s.

Matthew would always be a Saint.

And I'm in Ohio, satanic and chained up

“You cannot see the Devil!” The Father screamed at Y/n, who stood there, not looking him in the eye.

“Yes, Father.” Y/n spoke in hushed tones, afraid to be striked.

“You are an angel. You cannot have him spoil your beauty and holiness. How will God take you then?” The Father grabbed onto Y/n’s face, gripping his jaw. “Look at me, Child!”

“Yes, Father.” Y/n tried his best to not tear up.

Shackles weighed heavily on his wrists, unseen by the world. They were grey and cold. Y/n could feel them even if they weren’t truly there.

Y/n remembers Matthew appearing with Foggy down the stairs at that moment. The Father looked up and let out an undignified noise at the sight of Matthew. He let go of Y/n’s jaw, almost throwing him to the side.

“I will be back Sunday, Child.” The Father looked back to Y/n.

“Yes, Father. Of course.” Y/n nodded, glancing up to The Father before looking to the ground.

Once he was gone, tears raised to his eyes. He will never be freed from the monsters that made him.

And until the end, that's how it'll be.

Y/n looked at his hands as Foggy and Matthew joined his side.

“Is he your real dad?” Foggy asked.

“Does it matter?” Y/n replied, not answering the question.

“Of course it does, Y/n.” Matthew spoke up.

Y/n looked up to Matthew, who was looking in his direction, a frown upon his face.

“In the end, I will never be free of them. Let’s go get food. I’m hungry.” Y/n took a deep breath, ignoring the look that Foggy shot to an unseeing Matthew.

I said make me love myself so that I might love you.

“I love you, Y/n.” Matthew had whispered quietly to Y/n one night.

The two were laying together in Matthew’s bed. Y/n had his eyes closed, but they opened when Matthew spoke.

“I love you too, Matthew.” Y/n whispered back. “But you shouldn’t love me. I don’t deserve your love.”

Y/n that night had disappeared from the bed while Matthew slept.

“Goodbye, Matthew. May we meet and love again in another lifetime.” Y/n had whispered to Matthew.

When Matthew woke up, he panicked.

He rushed to Y/n’s room, pulling out the spare key that they had spoofed. He opened the door to find the room bare.

Don't make me a liar, 'cause I swear to god, 

Y/n watched Matthew throughout his life.

He had ran from his life, only keeping contact with Father Paul Lantom.

It was raining the night that Y/n had shown up to the Cathedral. He walked in, the candles flaring up at his presence. Father Lantom had rushed to meet him halfway down the aisle, where Y/n collapsed. 

When Y/n had woken up, Sister Maggie was standing over him, smiling softly.

“Child, what happened to you?” She asked Y/n, the worry in her eyes betraying her smile. “Who did this to you?”

“The Church.” Y/n whispered, his throat hurting. “They made me into this.”

Y/n was sat up as Sister Maggie patched up his injuries. His arm and wing was bound to his body. They offered to give him a place to say, the basement. Y/n accepted with no hesitance. He thanked them greatly until he was fully healed. He had found out that Sister Maggie was Matthew’s mother on a dark night.

When I said it I thought it was true.

Matthew had appeared multiple times to the church before.

But this time was different.

The night was dark, the wind was howling as Y/n crouched on the top of the church, watching the people go by. He watched as Matthew rushed into the church, bruised and bloody.

Y/n hurried to go down the trap door and into the back of the church. He watched from the side door as Matthew walked up to Father Lantom. He looked like he was on an inch of his life, barely holding on.

It had been months since Y/n had seen Matthew and Matthew had shown up to the cathedral. 

Father Lantom had caught Matthew as he passed out again. Y/n slowly moved out into the aisle to help Father Lantom carry Matthew up to the infirmary.

Matthew had fallen into a small coma, Sister Maggie had told Y/n. So Y/n sat with Matthew. He helped tend to Matthew, hoping he wouldn’t wake up with him there. He let the glow in his eyes appear for the first time in years, just for Matthew. He placed a now warm hand onto Matthew’s. He closed his eyes, a halo appearing over his head. It was barely glowing, but it was there. 

Once his eyes opened, Matthew started to gasp and his body arched up. 

Y/n backed up, turning his head slightly to cry out for Sister Maggie.

The Sisters, who doubled as his nurses, rushed in to calm down Matthew. Sister Maggie ushered Y/n out and told him to hide.

Matthew had woken up.

Saint Calvin told me not to worry about you, 

Matthew had spent months in the basement, getting stronger again.

Once he was better, he started to leave the cathedral for small amounts of time. 

Y/n would sit in the back pew, waiting for Matthew to come back.

“You shouldn’t worry about Matthew.” Father Lantom had told him one day, sitting next to Y/n.

“Father… I feel like I must. Matthew runs around claiming to be a Devil when in fact he is a true Saint.” Y/n looked up to Father Lantom, who sighed.

“Y/n, Matthew has been lost his whole life. From the second that Sister Maggie left, his life was turned upside down.” Father Lantom took Y/n’s hand into his own. “You’ve been just as lost since birth. There’s a reason why the Lord had chosen you two.”

“He visited the outside of my room last night.” Y/n looked back to the front of the church. “I think he knows that something resides in it.”

“I will make sure he doesn’t try to go in.” Father Lantom pats Y/n’s hand.

But he's got his own things to deal with.

Y/n had watched Father Lantom as he dealt with some of the shocks of chaos in the city. They had an influx of people coming into the cathedral to cope, so Y/n had come out of his hiding to help them. Matthew is now visible to Foggy and Karen now, accepting his presence once more with struggle. Y/n had spotted them while getting supplies for the church. He was snapped out of his stupor when they called out his cover name at the restaurant.

They called him Gabriel, after the angel. Y/n found it amusing because of what he was.

Y/n had always kept notice of when Matthew was in the pews, praying or watching the other patrons. Now that Y/n was helping, he had to keep track of where Matthew was inside of the services. He couldn’t get too close to Matthew. He looked different now, but not unrecognisable. 

“Who’s the new helper?” Matthew had asked one of the Sisters during a slower day. Y/n knew he was watching closely that day.

“Gabriel? He came in for medical help one day and he shows up everyday to help us as thanks.” The Sister had smiled at him. She hadn’t known that Y/n lived there, so it wasn’t lying. “He’s a lovely boy. He’s especially close to Sister Maggie and Father Lantom. He talks to them mainly. He was there to help when you woke up. He said he was playing with the children and they wanted to see you at the time.”

Y/n knew that Matthew couldn’t hear his heartbeat. He didn’t need one anymore.

Y/n had glanced at Matthew at the same time that Matthew had turned his head towards Y/n. Y/n turned to Father Lantom and whispered to him.

“Father, I’m going on a walk. Is that alright?” Y/n asked. He needed to breathe. He didn’t like how conscious Matthew was about him.

“It’s late, Young One.” Father Lantom frowned.

“I know. I’ll be back within an hour. I promise.” Y/n tried to give a reassuring smile.

“Alright. I’ll close the doors late so you can come through the front.” Father Lantom had nodded. “Be careful.”

“Like always, Father.” Y/n nodded before walking towards the entrance.

Y/n noticed Matthew get up and walk towards the entrance as he did. Y/n picked up his pace, hoping that once he got outside he could lose Matthew. His footsteps picked up and he got into the cold air, taking a deep breath and looking around. Where to go.

Y/n walked down the street, passing a few buildings. Matthew was now outside and following him.

Y/n went down an alley and climbed up a fire escape, getting to the roof and disappearing from Matthew.

There's really just one thing that we have in common 

Karen had taken refuge in the cathedral. She was being hunted and Hell’s Kitchen was terrified. 

Father Lanton had talked to her and introduced her to the Sisters and Y/n. They looked after her until the service, keeping Karen in the same pew as Y/n for safety.

Y/n watched as the fake Devil had walked into the cathedral. 

Y/n knew automatically who he was there for. It was obvious to everyone.

Everyone had gasped when the Devil had walked down the aisle.

“Karen Page.” The Devil called out. “Where is Karen Page?”

Y/n had glanced from Karen to Father Lantom, who frowned at Y/n and barely shook his head no. He didn’t want Y/n to interfere. The other members had all stood up now, looking mortified.

“Karen?” The Devil called out one more time before he striked one of the members.

They let out a scream and some started to run towards the doors. Y/n watched as they struggled to open the door with no avail. The others cowered in the pews.

“Wait! I’m here!” Karen cried out and ran into the aisle as he struck down another man.

“Karen. It’s nice to see you again.” The Devil grinned.

Y/n got up and darted in front of Karen, stopping a meter in front of her. He tried to create a barrier between them so he couldn’t attack her.

“Don’t come any closer!” Y/n cried out.

“Oh that’s funny-” The Devil had laughed before Matthew had kicked him down.

Y/n grabbed Karen and brought her back up towards Father Lantom and the others, trying to coax her quietly into staying down but to no avail. They watched the two fight for a minute until the Devil seemingly knocked out Matthew.

An uneasiness and anger settled in the bottom of Y/n’s gut and he glanced around quickly.

“Y/n, protect the children and others.” Father Lantom had spoken up and Y/n turned to him.

“Father, we need to get Karen out of here.” Y/n tried. He hadn’t noticed Karen and the Devil staring at one another until Father Lantom pushed Y/n out of the way. He stepped in front of Karen right as the billy club flew at her. It buried itself into his stomach and Y/n suddenly felt numb.

Father Lantom dropped into Karen’s arms as she screamed out.

“Y… Y/n…” Father Lantom spoke quietly.

Neither of us will be missed.

Matthew sprung up with a scream, attacking the Devil suddenly in response.

Y/n dropped to his knees next to Father Lantom, looking over him. The injury was bad. He was losing blood too quickly for Y/n to heal him.

Y/n’s breathing picked up quickly and he felt the energy and anger swirling in his stomach. Karen looked up from Father Lantom to Y/n, gasping as she saw the halo above Y/n’s head and the glowing eyes.

Y/n stood up and shrugged off the jacket on his back, the one that hid his loose wings. The sudden movement caught both the Devil and Matthew’s attention.

Y/n held out a hand, a golden bow seemingly materializing in his hands. The other hand reaches behind him and he pulls a golden arrow out of nowhere. He put the arrow onto the golden string, pulling back and aiming.

Saint Bernard sits at the top of the driveway, 

Y/n let go of the arrow, his halo and arrow brightly as it flew through the air.

It hit the Devil and made him stumble backwards.

Matthew jumped back into the fight, keeping the Devil focused on him instead of Y/n.

Y/n turned back to look at Karen, who had backed up slightly now.

“Get them to the basement, Karen. I’ll help Matthew.” Y/n spoke quietly enough to not alert the civilians but loud enough for Karen to hear.

She nods and starts to move them towards the basement.

Y/n turned back and joined the fight again. He fell into place next to Matthew, who turned his head towards him for a split second.

“Y/n?” Matthew asked in a breathless voice.

“Matthew.” Y/n replied. “Get him down and keep him there.”

Matthew nodded and jumped to try and flip the Devil over. The two looked almost like they were dancing, but Y/n knew better.

Once Matthew had gotten the Devil down, Y/n took a glowing hand and closed his eyes, placing the hand over the Devil’s face.

You always said how you loved dogs.

Y/n focused hard, pouring all of his intent into his hand and the Devil. The Devil went limp and fell still.

Y/n backed up, his body shocked by the energy flood. He turned towards Father Lantom and stumbled over.

“Y/n, what are you doing? What did you do?” Matthew asked as Y/n fell to his knees in front of Father Lantom’s body.

I don't know if I count 

Y/n placed his hand on Father Lantom’s stomach and focused the energy back into Father Lantom.

“Oh Holy Father, my Lord, please bless him.” Y/n whispered and felt the energy leave his body.

Father Lantom shocked back to life and Y/n’s eyesight started to turn black.

But I'm trying my best

Y/n fell backwards as Matthew ran towards him, calling his name.

When I'm howling and barking these songs. 

The Lord had let Jesus bring back a bird, Y/n remembered.

But that was a bird.

--

Matthew sat with Y/n’s body, holding Y/n’s hand as Foggy and Karen sat next to him.

Matthew hadn’t prayed often, but today was one day he did.

“I can’t believe he was here this whole time.” Foggy was still shocked.

“Father Lantom said that after he left college, Y/n had shown up months later all busted up and hurt. Y/n never talked about what happened, but Father said that he spoke of Matt in college and why he had to leave.” Karen filled them in. 

Matthew pressed his hand to Y/n’s face, wishing that they met under different circumstances.

-----

Y/n L/n.

29 years old, one year younger than Matthew Murdock.

Born in a small religious town in Ohio.

The Church is a catholic cult that has control in many major cities. They have a few churches in New York City and Hell’s Kitchen, not including the Cathedral. Their hometown is where Y/n was born.

Their goal is to make the next Christ, so they take children and mothers to create what are considered Angels. Until Y/n, none of the children or mothers had survived. The higher ups in the Church treated him like a creature to control, like Angels could be domesticated. The rest of the Church worshipped him as the second Christ. When he went to college, he managed to break away from the Church and get away.

Y/n was born with wings on his back that turned out to be a beautiful white. He can conceal them in an extra layer of skin on his back. He learned to fly at a young age.

He was tested on in his young years to give him powers that they believed an angel would have. 

He can create a weapon made of light in his hands and use them as real weapons. With intention, he can create small blessings and heal people to a certain degree. A halo will appear over his head and show how powerful he is at the moment. His senses are enhanced and he is slightly more durable. While his power is strong, he is more resistant towards damage. He can go into a state of rest where his mortal functions shut down (heartbeat, body heat). 

His powers are stronger the more healthy he is (how much energy is stored) and the more focused he is. When his emotions take control, his power flares to a dangerous level.

-

LANTOM EXPLANATION:

He basically took all of the energy he needed to bring Lantom back from Poindexter, which in turn killed Poindexter. Y/n passed out from a large use of his power. It was a miracle and a healing in one. His power comes from how much energy he has at the time, so he needed more.

WHAT HAPPENED BETWEEN COLLEGE AND HIM SHOWING UP AT THE CHURCH:

The Church came after him, so he spent two months fighting anyone that had come after him. They also live in Hell’s Kitchen, so he ran into some of Fisk’s (or someone else’s) men. He got jumped and defended himself. He chose Hell’s Kitchen to run to because it was where Matt was from and he knew about Father Lantom and Sister Maggie from Matt. He knew they would help him some.

[titconao3]

Whumptober 31

More Whumptober fic! Thanks to @pixelbypixelfanfic for looking it over, and @whumptober2019 for organizing it.

31. Embrace (AO3)

She can’t bring herself to pick him up.

The baby – Matthew, his name is Matthew – is crying; he’s loud and he’s sad and she can’t pick him up. He wants her, or at least he wants something. He’s hungry, or he’s wet, or… she doesn’t know.

She doesn’t want to know. What if she hurts him? What if she does it wrong? She can’t pick him up; she can't hold him. She could hurt him.

Jack would know; he’s known from the first moment he’s held the baby. He’s a natural, and the baby – Matthew, he has a name, she and Jack chose his name together – loves him. He stops crying as soon as Jack holds him, gurgling and blinking his baby-blue eyes at his dad even when he comes home with a few more bruises on his face. Baby Matthew doesn’t care when his dad is black and blue, but he cares when his mother is near him. He starts squirming, fussing, whining, and soon he’s wailing; he doesn’t like her.

Yes, it’s her; she’s the problem. Maggie’s not doing it right. She’s not right. Something is broken in her, and she’s pretty sure she knows what and why.

The baby is crying, and she can’t pick him up.

 It lasts for… a long time. She can’t really tell how long.

There is the birth, and she doesn’t remember much from that – she thought it would be meaningful, something to remember. Mostly, it’s a blur of people and noise and pain, and then something wet and screaming in her arms, and that’s when she knew. First time she held him, and already he wanted out of his mother's arms. That was a sign, right there: she couldn't be his mother. She was hurting him; she was wrong from the start. She wasn't his mother, really, not in the ways that mattered. She hasn’t been since he came out of her.

“Maggie, why are you sad? Look at him, look at his fingers and his toes and his eyes; he’s just so perfect.” Jack – bless him – was sweet, but he didn’t understand. He still doesn’t. She’s not sure she does, either; it’s just how things are.

Since then, people have come and gone and come again; they’ve tried to get her to eat, to read, to pray, to go out. When they see she won’t feed or change the baby, they do it for her. She won’t, she can’t. No, she could, surely; but she won’t. Just leaving the bed seems like too much, but she’s his mother and it should be easy, instinctive, joyful. It’s not. Something is not right with her.

She’s not really his mother. She can’t be: the baby is crying, and she can’t pick him up.

 Father Lantom comes every day. He says she should pray, ask God for guidance; but she left God when she met Jack, and he’s not going to want her back in the fold. She’s forsaken Him, and she can’t forgive herself.

Jack’s sweet smile, Jack’s awkwardness around her when he wanted to show her respect for the nun she wasn’t quite yet… he was so charming. She wiped his face in the ring, and his cockiness amused her. She took off her white veil before coming back to Fogwell’s the next day, and she never regretted it.

Or, rather, she never did until now. Now, the baby is crying and she can’t pick him up. When Jack comes home and sees she hasn’t moved from the bed, that she hasn’t changed or fed his baby, he just shakes his head and kisses her cheek and takes baby Matthew in his arms; he calms down right away. He wants his father’s embrace, not his mother’s.

Jack feeds the baby, he changes him, he cooks and brings her something she won’t eat. Jack is wonderful; she knows it but she doesn’t feel it. She’s detached, looking from the outside at the man she left the convent for and the baby she remembers she wanted. She can’t feel anything now; she only knows that she’s wrong. That she can’t stay.

 “It wasn’t your fault,” a doctor will tell her much later. He’ll remind her of Jack’s words, of, I know you love him; I know you’re in there. “Your baby was…”

“Not my baby,” she’ll answer. “I gave him up. I walked away.”

“He’s still your child, always will be. You did what you thought best,” and she’ll think of Paul’s We’ll help; you’re welcome back with us for as long as you need. She’ll think of his promises that God and the Church were here for her, for Jack, for baby Matthew.

God and the Church will take her whole and swallow her, but maybe it’s blasphemous to think of it this way. She will choose to pronounce her vows, after all. God and the Church can keep her, if it means her baby’s safe from her.

[a-really-good-lawyer-abandoned]

Charlie Cox and Peter McRobbie as Matt Murdock and Father Paul Lantom

Daredevil S1E03 - “Rabbit in a Snowstorm”

[ao3feed-daredevil]

Troubled Souls

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2ULRab6

by LilyEllison

"A little ritual, a little ancient wisdom, not the worst medicine for a troubled soul." - Father Paul Lantom

Matt and Karen go to church. Post-DDS3.

Words: 1524, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Daredevil (TV)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Matt Murdock, Karen Page

Relationships: Matt Murdock/Karen Page

Additional Tags: Post-Season/Series 03, Roman Catholicism, Grief/Mourning, DaredevilContinued

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2ULRab6

[notbadmagoo]

father lantom's first name is paul !!!

[comicweek]

Before I started this episode, the title gave me a bit of a chuckle because of course Daredevil would have a episode called “Revelations.” The episode begins, dropped two MASSIVE revelations on the audience, and then the credits role! Followed by moments that are not so much revelatory for their shock value, but act as a montage for Ray Nadeem and the audience as we begin to learn just how deep the rabbit hole goes. There are likely better all around episodes in this series, but none pack the sheer melodramatic swagger of “Revelations.”

1. Now That’s How You Begin an Episode

A recurring motif in both my writing on Daredevil season 3 and the show in general has been the series instance to begin episodes with a character, often one of our trio of emotionally damaged dudes, starting their day. Narratively this makes a lot of sense because it tended towards showing a character alone and theoretically honest, their ritual of presentation, or how it is they see themselves. On a more structural level it was a great way to train the audience and queue them into the fact that a new episode has begun, as Netflix as a platform incentives you to skip the union mandated credits blurring the edges of when one episode began and one ended.

Watching “Revelations” that training came full circle as the show lulled us into a false sense of security. Sure it didn’t start with one of our trio beginning their day, it starts a few minutes after “Upstairs/Downstairs” ended, but part of that training wasn’t just about the visual patterns but the temporal ones as well. 60 minute television shows are generally composed of in 5 acts, with the teaser pre-title card/credits sequence being first on the block (but it isn’t technically act .) These teases generally run about 3-5 minutes, most the DCWverse shows go about 6 but they tend to use this sequence as a place to cut to commercial, Daredevil has been like clockwork this season with 4 minutes and some seconds being the length of their tease. “Revelations” disregards this pattern, dropping the credits sequence at 13 minutes 30 seconds of the episode at what is pretty much the climax of act 1. Never has a cut to the credits sequence been so impactful for this show, or how furiously I smashed that “skip intro” button.

They drop the credits nearly 10 minutes after the biggest revelation of the episode: Father Paul Lantom is a pool shark and drinks! I’m pretty sure that’s against his vows somehow, but also, maybe, the least of his sins.

Changing up when the credits appear was a dramatic capper to an overall good opening act, director Jennifer Lynch and omnipresent cinematographer Christopher LaVasseur do an excellent job this episode of not overdoing the visuals even as things get oh so delightfully melodramatic. Televisual storytelling isn’t purely visual camera work, they strike a nice balance between well composed imagery and letting the musical ques and actors carry the load. This comes through as they chose to primarily stay on Jay Ali’s perplexed face as his boss shoots her boss right in front of him, letting the diegetic and non-diegetic audio que audiences in as Agent Ray realizes how deep the water is and how powerful Kingpin is.

2. The Sting of Lying

Matt Murdock has spent most of this season in a egotistical rage at just about everything and justified in none of it. They were the petulant spasms of a lonely person. Now he has something to feel justifiably angry about, the fact that Father Lantom and his Mother aka Sister Maggie never told him about his parentage, and hopefully learn from that experience and grow as a person from it. Because their lies of omission are not so different from him not telling Foggy or Karen about his night time antics … oh who am I kidding he doesn’t really grow all it does it push him into an even darker place as he is absolutely ready to kill Wilson “We Don’t Say His Name” Fisk.

It kinda hurts when someone close and important to you keeps something that major from you for a good while. Superhero shows always have to deal with the nature of the bifurcated identity in tougher ways compared to the comics since the sheer difference in screen time slowly creates a sorting of the cast between who knows and doesn’t, and the various tensions such a division creates. It’s nice to see Dardevil deal with this in reverse, giving Matt a taste of his own medicine.

While the tables are turned on Matt it does allow the series to get at the core reasoning behind such lies, selfish fear. In the case of Matt and Daredevil it was often couched in the fear of reprisals. For Father Lantom and Sister Maggie it was a fear of confusing an already traumatized kid. Both are rooted in a fear of rejection from this new found information, and in all these cases it feels incredibly human to lie in these moments.

3. Montage, Romantic Images and Harsh Realities 4. Maggie was an unfit Mother 5. Talking with Dad

Maybe it’s a mixture of the fact that BingeMode is getting ready to talk about Chapter 35 “King’s Cross” from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and the fact that presenting these moments this way makes throwing psychoanalysis at it infinitely easier, but the decision to have Matt wrestle with his ego through the psychic projection of his friends and enemies has been a great addition to the show. Matt has been pretty much isolated this entire season, bringing these apparitions into play gives Charlie Cox someone to play off of and create moments of interaction without straining too hard. Without the return of John Patrick Hayden as the Devil Jack Murdock, Matt’s return to the spiritual home of his father would not have worked nearly as well, as the character goes through his dark knight of the soul moment.

Jack is framed on his right shoulder, which is supposed to be the Angel side, but Wilson Fisk also appears on his right shoulder. The phantasmic Fisk tends to pace back and forth but favors the left side.

His talk with dear old Dad isn’t the best. It’s brutally honest, he admits that he enjoys beating people up, that the costume acts as a classic Freudian fetish object for him to disavow those baser toxic urges. Drawing back the curtain, however, only sends Matt deeper into the metaphorical Dagobah Cave, as he gives into those baser tendencies and imagines himself brutally murdering the Kingpin. He certainly doesn’t see the Kingpin as human at this point.

“Upstairs/Downstairs” was the boring and limp plot maneuvering as the season entered the final third, “Revelations” was the emotional opposite of that.

Read All of My Thoughts on Daredevil @ MultiversityComics.com

[ao3feed-buckybarnes]

two irish catholics walk into a church

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2XJ4YFb

by fired_fiorella

Father Paul Lantom, parish priest of Clinton, has a bad habit of adopting strays.

Steve Rogers is having an identity crisis, and Matthew Murdock, as always, is blind.

(A dramedy of errors)

Words: 3741, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Daredevil (TV)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Characters: Matt Murdock, Father Lantom (Marvel), Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Clint Barton, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Franklin "Foggy" Nelson

Relationships: Matt Murdock & Steve Rogers, Matt Murdock & Franklin "Foggy" Nelson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

Additional Tags: father lantom becomes an unwilling mental health professional, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Humor, Blind Character, Ableism, Mistaken Identity, i swear dis is a semi-comedy LMAO

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2XJ4YFb

[ao3feed-daredevil]

My Matty

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2MTjdUO

by Scarlet_Avenger (Lady_Lightning)

Matty and Foggy finally get to be what they once were after Fisk gets put away for good. but will Matty be able to let that happen or will he find himself struggling to give himself what he'd never denied himself before?

Words: 2083, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 5 of Littleverse

Fandoms: Daredevil (TV)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Other

Characters: Matthew Murdock, Franklin "Foggy" Nelson, Karen Page, Maggie Murdock, Father Paul Lantom

Relationships: Matt Murdock/Franklin "Foggy" Nelson

Additional Tags: Littleverse

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2MTjdUO