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farfromstrange · 2 years

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Spiders | Matt Murdock

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

Summary: Matt finds a huge spider in the house and he refuses to kill it.

Warnings: arachnophobia, description of a spider’s sounds and body (the way I see them with my arachnophobia), fluff, not proofread, no beta, probably a lot of grammar mistakes my bad

a/n: my body is tingling. I hate this, but it’s also cute. Matt Murdock hates spiders and I stand by that. [the gif seemed fitting, but for both sides]

find my masterlist here!

If there is one thing Matt Murdock hated with his whole heart it had to be spiders. He would never admit it though. His previous girlfriends had been deadly afraid of the small insects and so he had to step up and remove them whenever one came crawling in. He couldn’t kill a spider even though he wanted to because even that went against his moral code somehow.

He could hear their heartbeats and the almost inaudible sounds they made when throwing their webs around the corners of his apartment ceiling. He could hear their tiny steps as they walked around his furniture or over the walls. It was unsettling because even though he could hear them, he couldn’t find them. He couldn’t locate them. They were fast little bastards and mostly tiny at that.

He hated spiders with a passion that was unmatched to anything else he hated. They gave him the ick.

She didn’t have many fears either, but spiders were a big no-go. He could hear her heart jump whenever one appeared on the tv or her phone screen suddenly and she would cringe away, scratching at her skin until the disgusting tingling would disappear. Though whenever one happened to be in the apartment, she pulled out the vacuum and got rid of the animals easily without batting an eyelash. She was disgusted, yes, and her hands shook with the panic that spread through her at the mere thought of the spider attacking her and eating her alive (which was a pathetic thought, according to her, but he understood where she came from). Though whenever one happened to crawl by, she removed it because she knew he hated them.

No one had ever been this considerate, and they had only had one conversation about their dislikes in the past when the topic arose in a rather humorous manner and he dropped his irrational fear of spiders, explaining how he could hear them but never find them and that freaked him out. She had just laughed, keeping her own arachnophobia a light subject, playing it down for him so he wouldn’t get suspicious. Ever since then, she would remove every spider without him asking for it. She found them, always, even if it was a little late sometimes and he had already heard them crawling on the walls. But Matt being Matt, he was too much of a coward to ask her to remove them.

Until the size changed completely and it was no longer a daddy long legs or a tiny spider sitting on the wall but a huge, black one with legs that were seemingly bigger than his and Matt decided he had enough. He couldn’t stand in the kitchen with that thing staring at him, plotting his murder. He didn’t have to see it to know how monstrous it was.

Her reaction was proof of his suspicion. She jumped and screeched audibly when she saw it. Matt had his hands on his hips, sightless eyes directed at the kitchen as he listened to the spider do its thing. It was gross and he kept his distance specifically so it couldn’t jump on him even if it had the ability to do so.

“What the fuck is that?” she choked out. Her heart was beating up to her chest. “Why is it so big? What did it eat? Oh, my God, maybe she ate the neighbor.”

“She?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Spiders are all female to me. Doesn’t matter! That thing is huge.” It started moving at the same time she said that. “Ew, ew, ew, ew! Get it off. Get it away from me. Matt, kill it! I can’t look at it. God! Ew!”

Matt swallowed. He would do it. He would ask her to kill the spider instead because there was no way he was going to catch a thing that big and set it outside, and he didn’t want to listen to the heartbeat die out either. Not at his hands, at least, so he would do it. He would ask her, even though he hated that he had to. "Baby, I love you. You know that I'd do anything for you, but, uh... seven fucks to the no,” he said. “You're gonna have to kill that creepy thing yourself."

She gawked at him, then eventually huffed in absolute defeat. "So brave.”

He believed he could still talk himself out of her being mad at him. She knew about his distaste after all and would do it for him, right? She would conquer her fear for his sake, she had to or else both of them had to burn the house down and move far, far away, to New Zealand maybe.

“Have I told you that I love you? So, so much. You're beautiful, a goddess, I worship the ground you walk on. But sweetheart, love of my life, please go kill that fucking thing before I break out into hives. Please?"

The soft please let her defenses fall. She sighed, already searching for the vacuum. “If she is gone by the time I turn around,” she said, “I am moving out.”

“Right there with you,” he said.

“New Zealand maybe?”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

They were so in sync, he felt proud.

“Honey bees are considered the most dangerous there, you know. We wouldn’t have to worry about monstrous, venomous spiders trying to eat us.”

“I doubt it’s venomous, we’re in New York,” he argued. “But yeah, I get what you’re saying.”

The spider moved again, faster this time as if it could sense that she had gotten the vacuum from the closet, even adding the extension so she could stand as far away as possible.

Would it die in there? What if it crawled back out? Matt’s back itched. He didn’t want to think about that, but the longer he stood there, the bigger his concerns grew. Maybe burning the house down wasn’t such a bad idea after all. They could find a place to stay anywhere and just clean it all out before moving.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered in her general direction, “don’t want to alarm you but it sounds like the thing is fleeing the country.”

“No!” She snapped around with the vacuum in hand. “I will not let that fugitive get away with it.” She turned it on. “Be gone, Satan!”

He listened in awe as she squealed while sucking in the huge spider. She could have sworn she saw hairs on the body and she almost dropped the device. Sighing in relief once the spider was gone, disappeared into the depths of the vacuum, she went to turn it off.

Matt stopped her. “Maybe we should break a glass and then suck in the shards just in case it didn’t die,” he said.

“Matt, her legs were torn apart in there. She’s not gonna crawl back out.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Can you hear a heartbeat?”

“No, but insect heartbeats are faint. Please, let’s just completely demolish it before we put the vacuum back in the closet.”

“Oh, my God. I’m not gonna smash a glass,” she said.

“Then just vacuum the apartment,” he retorted.

She groaned, handing it over to him. “Do it yourself, big boy.”

“What if it comes out though?” He gave her a panicked expression. “What if it comes back out and eats me?”

“She won’t.”

“It might.”

“Matthew.”

“No, I won’t do it. I’d rather ask one of the neighbors to get rid of the entire vacuum than risk it coming back out again.”

She wanted to hit him over the head. He looked adorable like this, but sometimes he could be quite annoying, even after a scare like that. Perhaps he was onto something though. It might have still been alive and even she couldn’t take that chance.

She gave in and took the vacuum back, turning it on and sweeping the apartment, making sure to suck in as much dirt and dust as possible. She even vacuumed the couch and the bedroom. Pressing the head down on the carpet, she waited until she was sure any living thing would have suffocated, and then she finally turned it off.

Matt gave her the go-ahead, allowing her to stash it away. She did.

The pair continued staring at the door for another five minutes, eyebrows furrowed and senses spread out to make sure they weren’t going to be attacked by the monster.

She eventually turned to her boyfriend. “Do we think she’s dead?” she asked.

Matt tilted his head. “Jury’s still out on that one,” he said.

“I want to take a shower.”

“Then go.”

“Not when she can come out of the closet and eat you anytime.”

“I’m pretty sure a lesbian spider would be a new one.”

She needed a moment to register what he just said. Then, she toppled over with the brightest laugh he had heard her utter in a while.

“A LESBIAN SPIDER?!” she wheezed. “What is wrong with you, Matthew? Oh, my God.” Her chest rumbled with laughter once again until her sides started to hurt and she ran out of air.

Matt joined in, more surprised about how he got to that conclusion than anything else. He hadn’t even meant to say it, the words just slipped, but the joke was a good one and he had to note that he made her laugh like that. His mission was to do it more often, even if it were just with jokes about gay spiders, which, as he thought about it, was truly quite ridiculous.

“Yeah, I mean if she’s gonna come out of the closet…” he trailed off.

“Don’t explain the joke,” she said. “You’re gonna ruin it.”

“Sorry.”

“A lesbian spider.” She giggled. “Alright, I’m going to take a shower now.”

His arm shot out. “Wait!”

“Relax, Matthew. If you’re right about lesbianism, she’s not gonna eat you.”

Her footsteps disappeared into the bathroom where a lesbian spider could definitely find her in the shower and eat her, he figured, so he instantly trailed after his girlfriend.

“That doesn’t make me feel better!” he squeaked.

Her laugh rang out. “I know.”

Needless to say that they staked out to watch for any signs of the mysterious spider in the vacuum the entire night, even beyond their shared shower time.

#matt murdock #matt murdock x afab reader #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #no y/n #daredevil fic #matt murdock fluff #spider haters united #no offense peter #matt murdock drabble #matt murdock is afraid of spiders pass it on #daredevil #marvel #human disaster matt murdock

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dyns33 · 1 year

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Flower arrangement

I was missing Murderdock again.

The arrangement was clear.

Well, they had never talked about it, there had been no contract, no rules, but it was quite easy to understand what was going on between Y/N and Murdock.

They had first met on campus, when they were both studying law, and then several times in court, facing each other in front of the judge.

Y/N didn't know Matthew Murdock well. Her colleague Marci had told her to beware of him. The DA Nelson was clearly afraid of his former roommate. The Kingpin was probably not just a simple client.

No doubt she should have been scared, but Y/N didn't care. As a lawyer, she had seen a lot. As a woman, she had seen a lot. Even though she was doing her best to keep her heart from turning to stone, a shell had formed around her and there wasn't much that scared her anymore.

So she was one of the few people who knew there was something weird, if not dangerous, about Murdock, and yet treated him perfectly normally.

In the corridors or in the street, they greeted each other politely. She went to him to talk about the business they had in common. After a long day of work, she asked him if he wanted a coffee to celebrate one of his many victories.

The first few times, he seemed surprised, as if suspicious, waiting to see what she was going to ask for in return for her kindness. Then when it seemed obvious that she had good intentions, he relaxed a bit. Not completely, it was obviously not possible for him, but a bit.

Then he really started to be sympathetic. Very kind. It was quite pleasant, Y/N had to admit that she was not against spending some time with a man as smart and attractive as him. But there was still something creepy in his smiles and his flirtations.

Maybe she wanted more, but she didn't mention it. It was stupid. It was enough.

Until as she was driving home after a long day, she quickly braked on a bend, with Matthew standing in the middle of the road as if he was waiting for her. Taking his time, he went to the passenger door, sat next to her without saying anything, and put on his seatbelt.

"... I'll drop you off at your office ?" she asked as if everything was normal and that a blind man hadn't just acted as if he knew perfectly well that she was going to pass in this street at this moment.

"No. We're going to your place."

"Oh. May I know why ?"

"I'll take you on your kitchen table, in your shower and in your bed."

"... No dinner first ?"

"No dating between us. You've wanted me for months, I find you quite interesting, and we both need it tonight."

"Oh. Okay." Y/N said, not knowing what else to say.

This was the start of the arrangement.

No dating, no kissing, no love. Just two lonely lawyers who sometimes needed someone to relax. Mostly physically. There were also times when Y/N talked about her problems, even though she felt stupid, because she was sure Matt didn't care.

Yet he stayed in bed, listening to her, giving her good advice and gently patting her on the back. It was probably the best thing he could do when it came to social relations.

For his part, Matthew spoke little of himself, even if once, after having drunk a little too much, he told her about his childhood, the Hand, his abilities, Spider woman. Everything. He even cried, before he realized what he was doing, groaned, and left, never talking about it ever again.

Y/N probably should have been scared at that time. For a long time actually. But no. She also never mentioned it again, and Murdock thanked her as he passed under her desk while they were alone in her office.

He was a very good lover. Well, they weren't together, there was no love, but he was a really good lover. Their arrangement was very good. Yes, very good. Until a little spider got involved.

"Mr. Nelson told me you and Murderdock are close."

"Hello Miss Spider woman. Instead of discussing my private life with the DA, you should consider getting a lawyer with all the charges against you."

"No thanks. You know Murderdock is dangerous, right ?"

Yes, she was fully aware of that. Out now.

"But you still love him ?"

Yes. No. It didn't matter.

"We're not together. Not like this."

"Oh." said the young girl, because it was clearly a young girl under this mask, way too young for this. "It's too bad. You don't seem so terrible, you could do better. Or do you already have better ? I know Murderdock is seeing at least three other women."

Y/N really didn't need this information. It was none of her business what Matt was doing in his free time, since they weren't together. And she was ot seeing anyone else by choice. With her job, she didn't have time, and it gave her all the satisfactions of a relationship, without the inconveniences.

Really, everything was going very well between them, since there was nothing between them, except their arrangement.

"Too bad." Spider Woman repeated again. "He seemed to like you, a bit, when I told him about it. I must have been wrong. You deserve better in any case ! A guy who gives you flowers and who is there when things are not going well. Listen to Miley !"

It was a coincidence that Y/N "listened to Miley" as she was driving home.

Accustomed to it, she didn't jump when Murdock got into the car at a red light, continuing to sing until she got to her place, knowing he wouldn't speak until they were in the apartment.

Yet, he growled in the middle of the song, before turning off the radio. Y/N made no comment, deciding to wait several hours before asking him how his day had gone.

Another novelty was that he actually answered her, using more than sound bites or cryptic remarks. Spider woman had been awful, Otomo had been awful, Castle had been awful, everyone had been awful, and he wanted to forget about all that until at least tomorrow morning.

Matthew let her stroke his hair gently, like a big cat. Again, Y/N made no comment to be able to enjoy this moment as long as possible.

Then he added something else that was not part of their contract. He asked her how her day had gone. Normally she would talk about it, but he never asked. It was weird.

But not as weird as the flowers she found on her desk the next day. Red roses. Her colleagues teased her, asking who her secret admirer was, but there was no card.

Red was a fairly obvious card.

Y/N hesitated to call Matt, to ask him why. She didn't remember that anything special had happened the night before, nor that today was a special celebration. When they met in front of the courthouse, she didn't broach the subject. Yet he seemed to expect her to talk about it. Weird.

The day passed quite normally, Y/N losing the case against him, and after offering to take him for his famous victory coffee, he decided that they could go on foot.

And as they walked down the street, Matt took her hand.

"... What are you doing ?"

"Shut up." he muttered, continuing to walk and squeezing her hand.

"I'm just trying to figure out what you're doing. Flowers, now that ? And then what ?"

"You want more flowers ? You want to go dancing ? I wouldn't write your name in the sand, I think that's stupid, and I'm not going to the beach anyway."

"... Murdock, is it because of yesterday's song ?"

"The stupid song. The stupid spider. Your stupid heart that always beats fast when we're together. Shut up now, and take the flowers."

"Matt..."

"Take the flowers." he whispered, like a plea, because he couldn't give her anything else, he couldn't give more, even if he wanted to.

"Okay. Thank you." Y/N said watching their hands. "Do you do this with the others too ?"

"There are no others."

"The spider said that..."

"No coffee. We're going home. There's no other. Neither for you, nor for me." It was not easy to know if he was lying, because Y/N could not hear hearts, and as a lawyer she knew to be wary of a man who for more than an hour made everything possible to make her forget this conversation, and the idea of seeing other men.

It was still difficult to concentrate, because her silly lover ended to be a damn good kisser, totally focused on his goal.

There was also the new visit of Spider woman, who had had some threats and insults from Murderdock for having entered his privacy, but the girl came to tell her, or at least repeated to her, that according to Matt, the others were colleagues or instruments, nothing more.

"I told you, I think he likes you. He winces when I talk about you, he doesn't do that with other people."

"It's good to know."

"He bought you flowers, then ? Nelson said it would work."

Ah. So it was a plan from the start. Well done Team Spider, one point.

"Don't say that to Matt if you don't want our dear DA in trouble."

"I think he already knows. Mr. Nelson is scared."

"Matthew won't do anything to Franklin, he adores him."

"I don't know. He doesn't grimace when I talk about him, he's got a big creepy smile instead."

Y/N saw very well what smile it was. Nelson wasn't going to die, but he was probably going to regret having forced Matt to face his feelings, and moreover to confess them to someone.

She would send flowers to him in the hospital, unless Matthew considered that he was also the only one entitled to flowers.

#Daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murderdock #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fanfic #earth 65

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deniigi · 4 years

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will we be getting anyting spooky for this year? "ain't afraid of no ghost!" fed my halloween loving soul.

hi!!

I’m a little burnt out with writing right now, BUT I do have a piece from the Selkie Verse that’s a little bit ghostly/scary. I can’t remember if I posted it here already or not, but I’ll give it to you (again?)

It’s like 8k so be prepared!

Title: ember ghosts

Summary: Flash forces Peter, Ned, and MJ to go ghost hunting in a local cemetery. Peter decides to add a little pizzazz to this trip in the form of Resident Dead Hero Jack Murdock to get back at Flash. Things, as they are wont, go terribly wrong.

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

Matt’s new coat was white and incredibly heavy; Peter learned that last part upon dragging MJ and Ned over to catch Matt in the act of grooming it.

He barked at them and the volume of the sound locked Peter into place for a minute before he came back to himself and hustled in to go flop down next to Matt and ask him if he needed help first, and then secondly, if his dad was busy.

Matt felt for his chin and then jerked his face close.

“What business do you have with him?” he asked.

Stories about baby seals, obviously.

Matt tossed him away.

“You’re not borrowing my father’s spirit to scare Flash,” he said.

MJ and Ned came over to join the pleading session.

“But Mr. Murdock’s the biggest ghost ever,” Peter lamented.

“He’s a normal sized spirit, not a ghost,” Matt sniffed at him as he gathered up his fur rug from the floor and started picking through it in his lap.

The gesture he used was mesmerizing. He dragged the fur back the wrong way until he found something he didn’t like, then used the last three fingers on his hand to scrape at it until it was vanquished. He pulled his whole hand over the place again and carried on down the stripe he was making until he found another knot or bit of dirt or something to scratch at.

“Can I try?” Ned asked.

Matt’s face jerked his way and he dragged even more of the coat into his lap.

“No touching,” he said.

“I thought Foggy’s coat was the white one?” MJ asked.

Matt gathered his coat even further in offense.

“It will shed,” he said. “It is a new coat.”

“It’s baby fur,” Peter told the others. “Foggy said—”

He got a face full of baby fur and could now confirm that it was soft and fluffy and amazing. He could sleep in this.

“It’s a new coat,” Matt emphasized. “Annoying me will not unlock access to my old man.”

Boo on you, sealman.

“I’m gonna ask your mom then,” Peter declared.

He got yanked down before he was even all the way up.

Matt held his chin again.

“He’s a spirit,” he said. “And a hero. Say it with me.”

“He’s a spirit and a hero,” Peter repeated.

Matt shoved him away.

“If you ask him very nicely, he might be interested in having some time away from the church. But not too long. He can’t be away from Mum for too long, you hear?”

That was permission.

“We hear,” Peter promised. “Should we bring Sister Maggie an offering?”

Matt huffed and stood up. He left his pile of coat behind him and the urge to pet it behind his back was insurmountable. Peter met Ned and MJ’s eyes and bounced his brows. MJ shook her head.

Matt returned from the table and held something out towards the coat. MJ leaned forward and plucked it out of his hand.

“A comb?” she asked.

“Tell her its teeth are too wide,” Matt said. “Go get a bouquet of flowers—no roses, Peter. Go for hyssop if you can find it.”

Copy that.

“Be gone with you.”

“You’re my favorite teammate,” Peter said.

“I said begone,” Matt sniffed.

---

“You think he should have just kept it anyways?” MJ asked on the way to May’s friend Tonya’s place.

Ned took the comb from her and held it up to the sun.

“What do you think it’s made out of?” he asked.

Knowing the selkies? Probably teeth.

The other two stared at Peter.

He shrugged.

“Johnny says selkies are obsessed with guarding their teeth,” he said. “So maybe it’s whale bone or something.”

Ned huffed.

“Maybe it’s turtle shell,” he said.

Maybe.

“Why not roses?” MJ asked Peter.

Oh, well that was easy enough.

“There’s not really a kind of rose that isn’t a curse for Mr. Murdock,” he said. “It’s all friendship this, scorned lover that. And from the sounds of it, he doesn’t like them. Hyssop is a sacrifice flower, so you know. It’s an offering for both him and Sister Maggie.”

MJ tapped at her lip.

“Do you think we should cover our basis with a can of sardines, too?” she asked.

Well, it couldn’t hurt.

---

Tonya, upon learning that the flowers Peter was seeking were to be given to a ‘selkie and her young man’ (in her words) went a little overboard.

She stuffed the hyssop in as an afterthought among a tryptic of sunflowers in a bed of bursting blue cornflowers. She mused on a pink rose or two to top the whole thing off, until Peter informed her that the son of the recipients had warned against it.

She said hollyhock would have to do, and then she gave Peter a basket of herbs for drying back home. She said to leave them outside when he went in to talk to the selkie.

Tonya’s apprentice said nothing the whole time and stared at Peter like he was scum while she snipped the low leaves off the stems of black-eyed susans. Peter resolutely didn’t look at her or her fancy, pale-eyed familiar.

She was a poser, anyways.

“Tell me how it goes,” Tonya hummed, draping herself across the desk and humming. “I wish I could bag a selkie. Imagine it, Missy. Strong handsome man comes up from the banks and—”

“The banks of the Hudson, Ms. Rice?” Missy said scathingly.

Tonya considered this then shrugged.

“He’s shower first,” she said.

Peter and the others said bye.

---

Sister Maggie was suspicious of the flowers. But to be fair, she was suspicious of pretty much everything. She accepted the comb back much more comfortably.

“You want Jackie?” she asked once that was done.

“Yes, ma’am,” Peter said.

“What for?”

A reckoning.

“One of our classmates is a jerk,” MJ said. “He’s forcing everyone in our club to go ghost-hunting with him even though no one wants to. So we thought we’d give him a run for his money, but we didn’t want to like, disturb anyone or raise the dead or whatever.”

Sister Maggie’s eyebrow arched and Peter swore that she was going to start in for a lecture. He braced himself.

It did not come.

“That’s considerate of you,” she said instead. “How long do you need him for?”

“Like, just a few hours? Fourish?” MJ said.

“Let me ask him,” Sister Maggie said. “I think he’ll be interested, he’s been rolling balls back to the wains all day. It’s only fun for the first five times.”

---

Mr. Murdock was a good four inches taller than Matt and around forty or fifty pounds heavier. He looked like he could carry all the babies at St. Agnes’s all at the same time if he wanted to. But, having seen the guy in action (i.e. hopelessly lost in the tunnels of the great seanchaidh), Peter now knew that he was kind of a St. Bernard burdened with a troublesome wife and son.

“Have fun,” Sister Maggie said.

Mr. Murdock huffed at her and said that he ‘shan’t’ and it made her laugh as she closed the door behind them all.

“I’m not a ghost,” he told Peter, ignoring the other two’s shock and awe.

“A spirit,” Peter said. “Yeah, I know. But Flash is a dick and you don’t like bullies, right?”

Mr. Murdock’s jaw worked.

“What kind of bully, now?” he asked.

“He calls us names and talks shit behind our backs and runs into me on purpose in the hall during passing period,” Peter said.

“Easy fix for that,” Matt’s dad said with a hand wave.

“Mr. Murdock, I can’t fight him. I’ll break him in half,” Peter said. “Fighting is only for spiders.”

Mr. Murdock did not understand. That was okay, he and Matt only understood the language of hitting people. It was genetic.

“If you can just like, do the glowy thing right behind him tonight when we go to this crypt, that would be super helpful,” Peter said.

“You glow?” Ned asked Mr. Murdock.

Mr. Murdock was not convinced.

“How will me standing over a guy get him to stop bullying you?” he asked.

That…was maybe a fair point.

“It’ll scare him,” Ned said. “And it’ll be all his fault and everyone will blame him and he’ll feel stupid for having made everyone go along with his dumb idea.”

Mr. Murdock considered him and then looked back to Peter.

“Just go with it,” Peter said. “It’s a teenager thing. It’s how we keep each other humble.”

---

Mr. Murdock didn’t want to wait with them until nightfall. He wanted to be with Matt. That was his second favorite place to be, apparently, after hanging around Sister Maggie, but Peter got the feeling that Matt would talk Mr. Murdock out of some good, honest revenge and into some Catholic guilt if they were stuck together. So he gave him the next best thing.

Foggy was basically a vengeful spirit.

He laughed really hard at the idea of Mr. Murdock going around scaring kids in a cemetery.

“No, no,” he said. “Here, you must—Jack, can you hold things?”

Peter snapped his head back to Mr. Murdock.

“Some,” Mr. Murdock said.

“How much can you lift?” Foggy asked.

Mr. Murdock squinted at him.

“I don’t like the question,” he said.

Foggy abandoned them all to go dig through one of his kitchen drawers. He came back with tiny bottle and held it out to Peter.

“Mix it with some lamp oil,” he said.

Peter took the bottle.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Ask not what you don’t want the answer to,” Foggy said. “Just mixy-mix, boyo. Here, I’ve even got a lantern around here somewhere. Jack, we need to dress you for the part.”

Peter paused and turned to look up at Mr. Murdock’s dark eyes and thick hair.

Dress? Him?

You could dress a spirit?

“Why not?” Foggy said. “You, my dear sir, need a coat and a flatcap.”

Mr. Murdock’s whole expression dropped.

“I’m not playing some ghostly lighthouse man in the middle of New York City,” he said.

“You are,” Foggy said seriously. “For your people, Jack. Think about your people. And fix that accent, I know you’ve got a brogue in you.”

Peter took Mr. Murdock home with him when he and the others split off to reconvene at the cemetery at 8 o’clock. Mr. Murdock rode the train like a champ. It was cramped from the rush hour traffic and Peter entertained himself by watching Mr. Murdock lay his hands tenderly on top of those belonging to douchebags who were plenty tall enough to hold onto the upper bar but who couldn’t be assed to look away from their phones to realize this.

One guy yelped at Mr. Murdock’s touch on his knuckles and ripped his hand off, only to see nothing there. Everyone around him stared at him.

He coughed and reached up for the overhead rail.

Mr. Murdock abandoned him to squeeze through the carriage to the back. He found a pregnant woman standing beside a group of teenagers all listening to music. Peter watched as he inspected the lady’s phone in her hand and then her face. He tapped on the top of the phone so it fell right out of her loose grip, and the woman jumped. The kids all startled at the sound of the phone hitting the ground and two jumped up to pick it up for her. One offered her his seat.

She thanked them and carefully, carefully sat down.

Mr. Murdock watched this with no expression.

Peter swallowed a giggle.

Jonathan ‘Jack’ Murdock. Lighthouse Ghost Impersonator and Subway Manners Enforcer.

---

“Oh, hey there, long time no see,” May said to Mr. Murdock when Peter got home. “You’re going with Pete and the others tonight?”

Mr. Murdock said nothing.

Peter recounted his poltergeist from earlier for him. May thought it was just delightful.

“I told him to take Johnny,” she said. “But you might be even better.”

“They should just fight it out,” Mr. Murdock said.

“Mm. School authorities won’t go for it,” May said. “So I’m afraid we must stoop to witchcraft.”

---

Mr. Murdock didn’t know the full glory of Youtube, so Peter spent the next few hours snacking and showing him clips of old vines. Then, when it was time to go, he turned to google how to use an oil lamp. Mr. Murdock watched him struggle for a good five minutes before reaching over him and showing him how.

“Did you and Matt not have electricity in Ireland?” Peter asked him.

Mr. Murdock huffed.

“No, I just uh. I guess I had an interest in maritime shit since I was a kid.”

Ohhh.

“Is that how you met Sister Maggie?” Peter asked.

Mr. Murdock’s lip quirked up a little.

“No,” he said. “But we got there anyways, didn’t we?”

---

“Do you not like roses?” Peter asked him on the way to the train station.

“They all smell like soap,” Mr. Murdock said as he followed Peter down the steps to the station. He was wearing the hat that Foggy had impressed on him. It was a strange thing; Foggy had marked it with a piece of chalk under the brim before handing it over and it seemed to have made it ghost-apparel. He didn’t have a big scary coat, but he did have a scarf and between that and the hat and the lantern, Mr. Murdock was plenty old-timey lighthouse man.

“Not all of them,” Peter said. “Some smell like lemon.”

“That’s what they want you to think,” Mr. Murdock said over the heads of folks by the train. “S’all soap.”

---

“Did you every hunt for ghosts when you were a kid?” Peter asked when they were approaching the gates of the meeting place. May had given him a bag full of offerings to place on graves when people he was with weren’t looking. Some mandarin oranges and little bouquets of lavender and zinnias with sprigs of baby’s breath. They were pretty. Peter had something like twenty in among the fruit.

“No, the dead never bothered me half as much as the living,” Mr. Murdock said.

That sounded kind of angsty.

“How did you become a hero?” Peter asked.

“Kind of a long, boring story,” Mr. Murdock said. “The short of it, I guess, is that I did a lot of shit for the fae and they appreciated it.”

“Johnny’s starstruck of you,” Peter pointed out. “He thinks you’re like, super cool. He told me you smell really good.”

Mr. Murdock glanced down at him.

“It’s a sign of status for the fae to be attached to a hero,” he said.

Oh???

“Am I a hero? Does Johnny get a boost from being with me?” Peter asked.

Mr. Murdock shrugged.

“You’re both pretty young to be able to know or tell,” he said. “And you’re a witch. So unless you’re a hero-witch, I got nothin’ for you.”

Ah, well. It was worth a shot.

“There’s Ned, that’s our cue. Here, you can take the lantern. I’ll point Flash out to you,” Peter said.

Mr. Murdock took the lantern Peter held out to him without complaint while Peter fumbled through his pockets for a lighter.

He held it out.

“Do you want me to light it or are you okay?” he asked.

“You light it,” Mr. Murdock said. “This is heavy for me in this shape.”

---

Mr. Murdock took the lantern and left Peter to go meet MJ and Ned. The light had vanished by the time Peter looked back.

“I think Mr. Murdock’s a little sad,” he told the others.

“Ghost separation anxiety?” MJ offered.

“Maybe it’s harder for him to be with people who aren’t his family. Maybe he’s tired,” Ned said.

Yeah, maybe.

“Or maybe he’s a softie who doesn’t like scaring people,” MJ said. “But that means that Matt got his nonsense gene from the nun side.”

It wasn’t implausible.

“Hey, are you guys coming?” Abe tossed back at them. He was prepared with two flashlights and a backpack with a bulky mobile charger in his pocket. He’d said that he wasn’t falling for ‘any ghost shit’ that night and no one was making any ‘dumbass mistakes’ on his watch.

Peter thought that Abe might try to punch Mr. Murdock in the gut. He and MJ agreed to separate him from Flash as soon as possible.

---

Flash insisted on leading the charge—of course he did. Peter hung back a ways so that he could set offerings on graves. Ned told kept reminding him that he didn’t have to do it for every single one, and obviously Peter knew that. But some of the graves deserved stones on them and a quick prayer. That was just being polite.

Flash caught him at it and asked him if he was scared. Peter told him to mind his own business.

“We’re here to find ghosts, not feed them,” Flash volleyed back.

Peter pointed at him in a way that he hoped was dramatic enough for Mr. Murdock to catch sight of it from wherever he was.

“If they’re eatin’ these, they aren’t eatin’ me,” he said. He offered Flash an orange. “You want one?”

Ned snickered.

“You’re not funny, Parker,” Flash sighed. His breath clouded around him. “Come on, it’s not too much further.”

---

The ‘crypt’ was actually a mausoleum, as Peter had expected. It was tall and made of stone and Peter could tell immediately that it was of no one of import to the local necromancers.

Even the vultures had declared the folks in this one too boring for their rituals. It was probably a family thing. A bunch of folks who were ordinary but devout. Maybe they had a little money and chose to spend it in death.

Everyone had their own thing.

Peter had oranges and flowers, for example. He snuck around the corner to set one onto the ground by the stone.

His breath puffed out around it and misted away and Peter paused before standing up out of his stoop. He could feel a breeze on his cheeks. He looked up and around.

“Mr. Murdock?” he breathed.

Nothing.

No lantern light.

“You’re not my ghost,” Peter whispered. “I’m just leavin’ a snack, okay?”

The breeze seemed to vanish.

Cool.

“Don’t mind my spirit friend. He’s big and kinda glowy, but he’s not one of you,” Peter said.

“Peter?”

He glanced over his shoulder.

“I’ve gotta go,” he said. “But this other idiot is gonna try to climb onto your grave. Sorry about him. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of it.”

The leaves at his feet blew up and scattered around the orange.

“No problem.” Peter said. “Bye now.”

He hurried back to the others.

---

The main problem was that none of them knew how roman numerals worked and, surrounded by ghosts, looking it up on the internet was kind of challenging.

MJ and Ned gave Peter pointed looks when he came back to join them.

They knew Peter could read roman numerals. He was assigned the task of keeping his mouth shut without anyone having to tell him.

“Maybe they don’t want to be read,” Felicia said.

“Correct,” Abe agreed. “No reading. I can’t read. None of us can read. This is a blessing of ignorance, given to us by the Lord.”

Flash stared at them.

“X is ten,” he deadpanned.

“Damnit, Flash,” Abe said.

“What’s L?” Flash said. “And M?”

“Code,” Ned chimed in.

He got flat eyebrows all around.

“We live in the twenty-first century,” Flash told the stone. “Just use normal numbers like everyone else.”

The wind kicked up a bit in offense.

“Alright, well, now what?” Abe said. “Not a single ghost so far. Only a creepy stone in a creepy yard with a creepy—oh shit. Turn off the light.”

Say what now?

“Keeper,” Abe snapped over his shoulder, pointing away from them towards a floating light. “Turn ‘em off or we’ll get kicked out.”

Oh.

The lantern.

Peter joined the others in turning off their lights and hiding on the other side of the mausoleum.

“You’d have thought it would be too late for working,” Felicia whispered.

“It’s a graveyard,” MJ whispered back. “The time you need the most coverage is night.”

“Are they still there?” Abe asked.

Flash peeked out from around the stone.

“No,” he said.

Peter untensed his shoulders and stepped out.

“What if it’s not a keeper?” he asked. “What if it’s a—”

“Huh-uh. No,” Abe snapped. “We’re not asking stupid questions tonight, remember, Parker? I specifically said this not 10 minutes ago. No stupid questions.”

Abe had seen a few horror movies, it would seem.

“Alright, alright. No stupid questions,” Peter said. “It’s just—that doesn’t look like a flashlight to me.”

Ned made a show of looking around.

“It’s gone, it doesn’t look like anything to anyone,” he said.

“This is exciting,” Felicia anxiety-giggled.

“It’s not,” MJ sighed. “Well, we’re already here. Might as well keep going.”

The others all turned towards her.

“Wait, you mean, go further?” Flash asked.

MJ shrugged.

“We’re only like, part of the way in,” she said.

Peter surveyed the space beyond their current alley of monuments. The light from the two floodlights at the gated entrance was already weak. Further out, there wouldn’t be light until they hit the war memorial way, way in the back.

That was a plenty big enough stretch.

“Guys? Did it get foggy?” Felicia asked.

Peter shivered.

He had about ten oranges left and an equal number of flower packets.

Welp.

“Let’s go,” he said. “Before it rolls in thicker.”

---

The grass seemed to get wetter and wetter with every yard and Peter had started to see things out of the corners of his eyes. Shadows. Little flickers of light.

He felt MJ’s fingers sink into his jacket sleeve as he watched an extra set of legs follow behind them in the jerky shadows jostled around by the flashlights.

Abe froze twice, each time to take a deep steady breath and to remind himself that he was not asking stupid questions.

Flash laughed at him, but the sound was strained and a little hysterical. Felicia had grabbed ahold of one of each of their arms up ahead. Ned touched Peter’s shoulder.

“Where is he?” he whispered.

Peter shrugged.

“He’s lantern man,” he said. “We’ll see him.”

“In the mist?”

Mmmm. Okay maybe they should have brought Johnny after all.

---

They were halfway to the war memorial when the lights above it suddenly went out. MJ’s fingers dug deep into Peter’s sleeve. Ned gasped.

“Dude,” Flash’s voice said in the dark. “That’s not cool. Don’t do that.”

“Don’t you talk to it,” Abe snapped. “Don’t you dare talk to it. Just walk. Don’t ask questions. Just walk.”

Peter felt wind against his cheeks. He shivered.

Mr. Murdock wouldn’t fuck with the lights, would he? Was he that strong?

Peter thought he was supposed to be a spirit, not a ghost. And he’d seemed kind of tired earlier. Surely he hadn’t fallen asleep or something, right?

There was a loud rustle to the right of their group and Peter jumped, which made MJ jump, which made Felicia yelp.

The rustle carried on. It was punctuated with a horrible, wet-sounding slap all of the sudden.

“Wh—what was that?” Flash asked.

Another slap rang out, then another. Followed by the sound of something dropping into leaves. Something…heavy.

“Nice try, slugger,” Mr. Murdock growled.

Actually growled. Like an angry tiger or something.

Peter shivered hard.

This guy hadn’t been scared at all. He’d been preparing himself.

To fight.

Fuck.

Abort mission. Abort, abort, abort.

“We need to leave,” Peter said sharply.

“Agreed,” MJ said.

“Yep,” Ned said.

“You speak my language finally,” Abe said. “About-face and—”

“Don’t move,” Mr. Murdock said dangerously.

Peter felt his body turn to ice.

“Who’s there?” Flash asked.

“They’re mine,” Mr. Murdock rumbled. “Hands off, ya fuckin’ lowlife. Yeah, get back to your hole. Go on.”

Oh, okay.

Fun times with the undead. Peter should have brought holy water.

“Wh—who’s there?” Flash asked again in a cracking voice.

The sound of metal clanking met them and then an orange flash crackled into sight. And there was Mr. Murdock. Six foot two and missing his hat. He looked huge and solid and his shoulders glowed ever so slightly.

Flash and Felicia and Abe gasped.

“Y’all better be moving along,” Mr. Murdock said, meeting Peter’s eyes seriously.

“Are—are you a ghost?” Felicia whispered.

Mr. Murdock flicked his eyes down at her and they didn’t reflect the light from the lantern.

“Folks call me ‘Jack,’” he said, holding out the lantern. “Or they used to. Nowadays, the little ones call me ‘John.’ This is a ritual grounds tonight, kids. Bad night for a hunt for the living. Go on, I’ll see you out. Take this; your lights won’t work.”

MJ took out her flashlight and it clicked as she turned it on and then off.

“What kind of ritual?” Peter asked.

Mr. Murdock’s lips thinned.

“Go,” he said.

Peter’s chest expanded.

“Where are they?” he asked.

Mr. Murdock shook his head.

“Go,” he said again. “This isn’t for you, little witch.”

Peter heard the others’ shape intakes of air, but he held firm.

“You’re a spirit,” he said. “You can’t stop them.”

Mr. Murdock sighed and his shoulders fell slowly.

“I’m not just a spirit,” he said. “I’m a hero. I’ll see you out. Tell my son the name of this place. He’ll come in the morning.”

Wh—

No, wait.

“Don’t go,” Peter said.

But he was already gone. Felicia was left holding the lantern.

---

They ran-slipped-fell all the way back the way they’d come. This time, Peter held his breath at the sound of too many feet hitting the wet pockets of mud around them. He heard Felicia sobbing and the lantern clanking dangerously ahead of them.

The floodlights at the entrance had gone out.

They had to carefully climb the fence and pass off the lantern one at a time until they were on the other said, panting.

Peter realized belatedly that he’d dropped the bag of grave offerings.

He dipped his head and clenched his fists.

He’d have to go back for it in the morning.

“You’re a witch,” Flash suddenly snapped at him.

“Lay off,” MJ said immediately.

“You’re a witch and you brought that—that guy with us?” Flash asked.

“It was supposed to be a joke,” Peter said.

“A joke?” Abe said. “You—Peter, witches aren’t real. Ghosts aren’t real. Who was that?”

“No, you, a witch, thought it would be funny to bring some kind of spirit with us to a graveyard?” Flash demanded.

Peter huffed.

“Hey, you were a dick about this first,” Ned said. “The ghost dude is harmless.”

“Harmless?” Flash said. “Harmless? Yeah, fuckin’ streetfighter ghost is harmless.”

“He’s not a ghost,” Abe said, “He’s an actor. Peter that’s not cool, man. That’s not cool.”

“He’s not an actor,” Felicia said quietly.

The rest of them turned to see her holding the still-burning lantern. She was staring into it.

“His hands were so cold,” she whispered.

Abe executed a full-body shiver.

“Well, now what?” he asked. “We’ve trespassed, found a ghost, and nearly got ritualed to death. What else do we need to do to learn that this was a bad idea all along?”

Peter looked up at the gate.

“Dark magic,” he said.

MJ and Ned turned towards him.

“Peter, you’re not going back in there,” Ned said.

“I took charge of the spirit,” Peter said, setting his jaw. “I’m not going back on my word to a selkie.” He jerked back. “I need my familiar,” he said. “You guys can go.”

“Your…familiar?” Abe said slowly. “Peter. Peter, you are not a witch.”

“He’s not a familiar like others are, maybe, but he’s mine,” Peter said. “And he’ll know how to help the spirit.”

Ned and MJ exchanged glances.

“Okay?” Ned said. “Well, where is he?”

---

Johnny answered his phone and said he’d been 20 minutes. They were the longest 20 minutes of Peter’s life and were spent primarily being interrogated by Abe, Flash, and Felicia.

They were understandably upset by the set-up, and then understandably upset by the fact that they were, in fact, living in ignorance of a whole multi-dimensional plane.

Abe demanded to know if genies were real, and Peter could only say that they probably were.

“Just so I’m clear here,” Flash said. “You went and borrowed your local seal-person’s husband for a jump-scare for us and now we are waiting on a fire demon to help us rescue the seal-person’s undead husband from some evil witches trying to raise the dead?”

Peter chewed a few fingers.

“That’s the gist of it, yeah,” he said.

“PARKER.”

“PETER. OH MY GOD.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Abe sobbed.

“I was appeasing the spirits,” Peter snapped at them. “Why do you think I brought all those oranges? Do I look like I’m vitamin C deficient?”

“You’re a witch,” Felicia said. “You’re a witch. That’s insane. How do you—”

“I’m not a witch,” Peter sighed. “I’m—I’m a—I’m almost a witch.”

“Clearly,” Abe said.

“Hey, leave him alone,” Ned jumped in. “It’s no one’s fault this happened. We all thought we were walking into a totally different situation.”

“Yeah, except Mr. Ghost Man,” Flash said. “He knew what was up. Why didn’t you listen to him? Or, I dunno, read the undead-people signs?”

“Because he’s not my family spirit,” Peter snapped at him. “And he’s not a ghost. He’s a spirit, and not like a spirit, even. He’s a—it’s hard to explain. I don’t even know what he is. He’s just different. He’s like an inbetween kind of—”

“He’s a hero.”

They all looked up to see Johnny standing there in blue with a black knitted scarf wrapped triple around his neck. His eyes flashed orange and red and gold. The ground swayed around him, light up by his internal lantern.

Everyone around Peter recoiled.

“What does that mean, Johnny?” Peter asked quietly. “I don’t understand.”

“It means that the spirits of the sea granted him another life in exchange for the protection he offered their people during his human one,” Johnny said. “You should know by now, Peter; the fae work in exchanges.”

“He already made his deal,” Peter said. “I don’t understand.”

“His deal as a human was fulfilled. His soul is safe with his selkie, only she can shepherd it. It will go to the Otherworld, where he will stay in comfort. But he’s chosen to stay here--as a hero. In this world. And as long as he is here and not in the Otherworld, his purpose is to protect humans and fae, to protect them from each other if he must, as he stands now with a foot on both sides of the line.”

Peter felt his breath coming slowly again.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

“Because,” Johnny said with a sudden smile. “Your soul is already mine—we share a heart remember? I don’t need you getting stupid ideas—imagine if you decided to become a hero, then died and decided to stick around these parts instead of letting me take you to the Otherworld. You’d drive yourself mad, Peter. You’d never sleep ever again.”

Peter blinked.

“You lied to me?” he asked.

“I’m a fire demon,” Johnny said. “We listen to truths. We don’t have to tell them.”

Wow.

“Know that I’m really upset with you right now,” Peter said.

Johnny bobbed his head.

“But you’re more upset about the hero,” he said. “No need for that. He didn’t become a hero by dumb luck, and anyways, look at his kid. He’ll be fine; he’s the original material. A little dark magic isn’t gonna tear him up. He’s probably just gonna—”

There was a flash like miniature lightening through the bars of the gate.

“I take it back,” Johnny said. “Whoopsy-daisy. Come on, now, heart-boy. Up and over.”

---

Peter landed on the other side of the gate right into mud that hadn’t been there a moment earlier.

“What’s going on?” he asked as Johnny hopped down with him.

“Big, wet,” Johnny said. “Dark, dark magic. Gross. Sticky. Here, we need more light.”

Little embers glittered in the throw of fire that expanded Johnny’s lantern lights. It brightened the space substantially and when Peter looked down, the ground was dry.

“Dude,” Flash said. “You know what? I’m convinced.”

“Johnny Storm is a fire demon,” Abe wept into his hands.

“Stay here,” Peter told Ned and MJ, we’ll be—”

“BACK. BACK. BACK.”

Johnny slammed Peter against the fence and let out a hiss that sounded like water hitting a scalding piece of metal. Peter’s heart throbbed. Johnny slowly released the pressure on him and made a clicking noise.

“I think,” he said after a moment. “That perhaps I am not a big enough fire.”

Dude, what?

Johnny turned to him.

“Sorry,” he said sadly. “More and more are waking up every second. They’re heavy.”

Dude, what?

“I’m really sorry,” Johnny said. “But uh. I think I need to, uh—”

“Need to what, Johnny?” MJ demanded on the other side of the fence.

Johnny looked like he was going to cry.

---

“JONATHAN STORM.”

Scary, scary, scary, scary, scary.

“Sue,” Johnny pleaded. “Not here. Not now. There’s hero in the—”

“Oh, I see him,” Sue Storm said, looming. “He’s doing just fine. He’ll hold on for long enough for me to—”

“It’s my fault,” Peter blurted out. “I called him here.”

Sue Storm’s blue eyes seemed to blaze in the dark.

“Don’t blame him,” Johnny said. “I’ll take it. He’s my human. I’ll take it.”

“This is dark magic,” Sue said. “None of you should be here. This earth will turn sodden under the spell of these monsters. The hero will return it to balance. You two, in the meantime, are no heroes. Not even halves of one.”

Peter felt his face burning.

“He’s the selkie’s, Sue,” Johnny said quietly. “He’s not long a hero. Please help him?”

Sue Storm chewed her tongue, gazing holes into Johnny’s face. Johnny looked away first.

“Which selkie?” she demanded.

“Her name is Margaret,” Peter said.

Sue’s face jerked his way. Her eyes widened and she turned back out towards the cemetery.

“Oh,” she said softly. “That selkie. She’s more like us.”

Peter frowned.

“I don’t—” he started.

“She honors the earth and its fae even though she’s sea folk,” she said. She sighed heavily. “Alright, fine. I’ll help. But for the hero, not either of you, you hear? Johnny, you’ll need to make things right with the selkie. She’ll be furious. She’s been nothing but kind to our people. We can’t repay her like this.”

“Will do,” Johnny said.

“Stay here,” Sue said. “All of you. The curse has got into you. We’ll break it all at once.”

Oh shit.

MJ and Ned turned slowly towards Peter.

“Curse?” Ned asked.

Peter groaned.

---

“It’s a friendship circle,” Johnny bubbled as Peter shoved him, once again, into the sigil he was trying to draw in the dirt at the cemetery entrance.

“I’m gonna salt you in and I will not regret it,” Peter threatened him.

“Johnny, come sit,” Ned said, patting the place between him and Felicia.

“Never,” Johnny hissed at him. “My heart is right—”

Peter left him to finish the circle. Johnny hurried to keep up with him.

Flash watched after him with furrowed eyebrows and a fist pressed to his mouth.

“This is not how this night was supposed to go,” he said.

“We didn’t even ask any stupid questions,” Abe sighed.

“What’s she doing out there?” Felicia asked.

Peter shoved Johnny’s flailing body towards her and finally finished the circle. He’d never made one this big. He started in on the protective signs around the interior.

“She’s a boggart!” Johnny chirped. “She’s boggart-ing!”

Peter felt the pause of the others more than he heard it.

“What does that mean?” Felicia asked.

“Oh. She’s a faerie of darkness,” Johnny said. “So she’s probably winding her way through all the posers and chasing them back to their hovels so that she can go chase the witches away from the hero and let him rest for a bit. She’ll guide him back if he’ll let her—which he might not. You never know with heroes. He might not want her smell on him.”

Peter had the feeling that Mr. Murdock was made of more sense than pride.

“How long will that take?” Abe asked.

Johnny made happy crackling sounds.

“Who knows! Depends on the witches,” he said. “Depends on how many people she needs to terrify. Boggarts get power through fear. The more spirits she scares, the faster she’ll be.”

Peter moved Ned’s backpack out of the way and carried on.

There was a lull.

“Peter, what are you doing?” Felicia asked.

“Protection circle,” MJ said for him.

“Oh.”

There was another silence.

“Where did you learn that?” Abe asked.

“His aunt’s a full witch. She does business in herbs, potions, and materials for their part of Forest hills,” Ned said.

“Oh.”

Flash and Abe scooted forward to let Peter in behind him. They watched him.

“That’s pretty cool, actually,” Felicia said. “Thanks for that.”

A mumbled thanks went around the whole group. Peter finished the final marks and stepped carefully over them into the circle.

“It’s nothing,” he sighed, flopping down and dragging Johnny away from Ned. “I should have known better. I think the ghosts were trying to warn me from the start. I should have listened better.”

More awkward silence.

“Well, it sounds like the fighting’s calmed down,” MJ said. “Mr. Murdock should be okay.”

Yeah.

“Wait,” Abe said. “Isn’t that your boss, MJ?”

Welp.

“Ghost man is my boss’s dad,” MJ sighed.

“Oh my god,” Felicia giggled. “You guys roped your boss’s dad into a practical joke?”

“He didn’t even want to scare you guys,” Peter groaned. “Man, I gotta learn how to read spirits. Johnny, how do I read spirits?”

“No idea. Spirits don’t like me. I’m too bright and obnoxious,” Johnny said.

“I’m un-bonding us,” Peter said. “You have nothing but bad advice and secrets.”

Johnny made kissy noises at him then scrambled up straight.

“Sue’s got the hero,” he said. “She’s arguing with him. Ahahaha.”

Peter cleared his throat. Johnny startled.

“Right, sorry,” he said. “She’s uh. Trying to convince him to come with her, but he’s refusing to look at her. Smart guy, you know that? Name a boggart and they’ll go off on you. He doesn’t want to chance it. Sue’s telling him that she’ll do the invisible thing so he doesn’t see her and he’s not into it, guys.”

Peter took it back. Maybe Mr. Murdock had too much sense for his own good.

“Can you talk to him?” Felicia asked.

“Who? Hero-man? Nah. I can just feel Sue’s frustration,” Johnny said. “Sibling bond, forever. You know?”

No, Johnny. No one knew. The only people with siblings in the circle were MJ and Abe.

“You’re so annoying,” MJ said.

“Aw, I like you too,” Johnny tittered.

Peter yanked him back and prayed that Mr. Murdock would give into the inevitable soon.

---

“Look? See? No trouble. Not even a little trouble. Did I lie to you?”

Peter snapped awake and shook himself. He blinked into the dark until the shapes of bodies appeared before him as the other woke up too. They all turned around to see the dark outline of Sue standing on the other side of the fence.

Mr. Murdock’s tall shape was there too.

They looked…uh.

Kinda scuffed up, actually, hair-wise and scratches and bruises--the whole thing.

“Lord, she’s still talking to me,” Mr. Murdock said, facing away from Sue, now that Peter could see better.

“God is smart enough to see through you talking to him to talk to me,” She pointed out.

“Lord, you are so unknowable,” Mr. Murdock said pointedly.

“You know, for a fae hero, you’re sure religious.”

“Please see me through this period of suffering,” Mr. Murdock carried on. “And safely away from this hostile body and place.”

Johnny leapt up.

“You found him!” he cheered.

“Yes, of course I did,” Sue said. “He was fine, by the way. Meat-head here has anvils for hands.”

“I keep hearing voices, Lord,” Mr. Murdock said miserably. “Whatever sin it is I’ve committed, I’m willing to repent. But you’ve gotta help me out, man; the priest is convinced I’m a demon in his confession box.”

“Move,” Sue told Johnny. “Come one, Hero-man. We’re going through a fence. I dunno if you’ll fit with all those muscles.”

They all watched as Sue got a handful of the back of Mr. Murdock’s shirt and dragged him through the largest part of the gate uncomfortably.

“You did it!” she cheered. “Successful hero. Another quest fulfilled. Look at all these living children. And you even picked up a rock! That’s good for a young guy like—”

“I’m going back to the church and I’m never leaving,” Mr. Murdock finally told her directly.

“Oh,” Sue said. “You’re a church hero. That’s new.”

“I’m done. No more seals. No more mountains. No more lakes. No more cemeteries,” Mr. Murdock said, shaking himself and dragging his hands through his hair to smooth it out.

“Oh, wow, you’ve really been through it, huh?” Sue asked his back as he left them all in place.

“No more superpowers either,” Mr. Murdock said over his shoulder at her. He moved on ahead purposefully.

“I want him,” Sue told Johnny forcefully.

“He’s taken,” Johnny reminded her.

“He’s sturdy is what he is,” Sue said.

“Reed is sturdy,” Johnny pointed out.

Sue contemplated this.

“But he’s not fae,” she said.

Johnny rolled his eyes.

“Sue, we can throw your boyfriend into a graveyard of dark magic and let him fight his way home,” he said. “That’s something we can do. We can even time him.”

Sue drummed fingers across her face and slowly wrapped an arm around Johnny’s shoulders until his cheek was smushed up against hers against his will.

“You are so smart, little brother, sometimes I forget how smart you are,” she said.

She threw him away and straightened herself out.

“We’re hours from dawn,” she said. “We’re going home. Baby witch, you and my brother will apologize to the selkie tomorrow. I don’t think the hero wants to stay with you until then. I’m 90% sure, actually, the hero is already catching a train without you. The rest of you--”

She rounded on all of them.

“Do not play with ghosts, witches, spirits or any receptacle of them, do I make myself clear?”

Peter shrunk under her finger.

“Yes, ma’am,” they all mumbled.

She sniffed.

“Good,” she said. “Now we all need to go talk to baby’s witch’s mom. You have one hell of a curse hanging over you.”

---

May was not pleased.

May doused them all in six different herb waters and made them eat something foul that tasted like charcoal and rubbing alcohol.

Then they had to get sprayed off with the hose in the backyard until all the cemetery mud came off and only then did May send everyone home.

---

“Hey Peter?”

Peter looked up from his grinding in the doorframe the next morning—it as far as he was allowed at the present moment—and jumped at the whole group from the night before staring down at him.

He scrambled up.

“Uh, hi,” he said.

“Did you say sorry to the selkie yet?” Felicia asked him.

He almost wanted to shush her and check for passersby. May swore at something in the kitchen behind him. He edged forward and closed the door as far as he could without closing it all the way.

“No, not yet. What are you all doing here?” he asked.

He got a wave of eyebrows all around.

“We wanted to go with you and to say thanks. To the hero guy. You know. For uh, saving us from certain and horrible death,” Abe said.

Oh.

“Let me, uh--give me just a second,” Peter said.

---

Matt was at his apartment and he opened the door at the third knock. He heard MJ clear her throat and started cackling immediately.

“Don’t be a dick,” MJ said. “Let us say thank you.”

Matt remained inarticulate.

“Oh my god,” he finally choked. “Do you know—I haven’t—He hasn’t been this mad since I ate fries off the street—hold oh. Oh my god.”

Ew, man. That’s disgusting.

“Pops, come on out,” Matt coaxed, wiping tears from his eyes and skirting fingers across his kitchen counter until he got to cupboard under the sink. “They just wanna say sorry, Dad. It’s okay. There’s no secret second quest.”

Mr. Murdock refused to exit his newfound home.

Matt snickered so hard his shoulders shook. He stood up and found his counter to lean his elbows against.

“No harm, no foul to us,” he said amiably. “Mum’s been trying to keep a straight face in Mass. He came here for sympathy that I’m afraid I don’t have.”

Man. It was a wonder that Mr. Murdock stuck around at all.

Peter puffed himself up anyways.

“Mr. Murdock,” he said. “I know you can hear me. And I wanted to say that I’m sorry for roping you into the whole thing yesterday, but I’m also super glad you were there. ‘Cause we would’ve been screwed otherwise. So thank you.”

“Yeah, thank you,” Felicia said. “You’re really nice, and I’m glad you were there, too.”

The others added their thanks to the pile and Matt grinned in the direction of the cupboard.

“Come onnn,” he drawled. “I can feel you giving in, in there.”

Nothing.

Matt muffled a round of giggles in his sleeve.

“He accepts your thanks,” he said. “He’s just allergic to sunlight and gratitude.”

The cupboard door rattled violently. Matt shoved a foot against it.

“Mum isn’t mad either, she thinks it’s healthy for him to do quests without her,” he said. “So you’re all good with the three of us.”

Peter wasn’t positive that they were actually. But okay, sure?

“I guess we’ll leave you guys to uh, brood? Baseball? Whatever it is you do together?” He said.

Matt hummed and nodded and waved them out. Peter shut the door behind them.

“That was easy,” Flash said.

“Man, I hope my dad just dies the once,” Abe said.

“My dad isn’t cool enough to fight zombies in a graveyard,” Felicia said.

MJ considered this.

“My mom could do it,” she said.

Ned snorted. Peter swallowed a laugh.

---

“So,” Flash said as they passed by the church that Mr. Murdock usually called home. “I know it was all kind of an actual nightmare, but like. I dunno.”

Peter stopped.

“You want more fae bullshit?” he asked in shock.

Flash rubbed at the back of his neck and even Abe and Felicia refused to make eye contact. Ned and MJ stared at them, then Peter in shock.

“It’s just really cool,” Flash admitted. “Like, there’s all this stuff that I thought was fake. But it’s all happening here, all at once—you know. Heroes and zombies and fire demons and witches.”

“This isn’t a tv show,” Peter said. “You know that right? Like, we don’t always win? Yeah, there are heroes and witches, but there’s also really bad magic. Dangerous fae. There are turf wars and tricksters and everything you do is a deal and you always owe someone something. It’s not always fun.”

“Okay, but isn’t it better to know?” Flash asked.

Peter closed his lips.

He didn’t have an argument for that.

“I’m not teaching you,” he sniffed. “I’m already apprenticed. If you want a mentor, it can’t be me—and you can’t have my demon.”

“But he’s Johnny Storm,” Abe blurted out. “Johnny. Storm. Peter, how did you even swing that? And why does he listen to you.”

“He doesn’t,” MJ butted in.

“He does,” Peter corrected.

“He really doesn’t,” Ned said. “Peter’s an amateur witch at best who bound himself to a fire demon with impulse control issues.”

Wow. Betrayed by his own family.

“I’m leaving, I’m grounded, you guy go get a grimoire or something and learn your magic bullshit yourselves,” he said.

“Aww, come on.”

“They were just joking, Peter.”

“Come backkkkk.”

Mr. Murdock had the right idea. Peter had a cupboard to find.

------

Hope this hits the spot, boo!! And Happy Halloween, y’all!

#fic #ficlet #selkie verse #witch peter witch peter witch peter

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momentofmemory · 5 years

Text

fictober - day twenty

Prompt #20: “You could talk about it, you know.”

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe - Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Netflix Marvel (Daredevil)

Warnings: Religious Imagery

Characters: Peter Parker & Matt Murdock, Quentin Beck (mentioned)

Words: 2177

Author’s Note: set immediately post the spider-man: far from home mid credits scene (so, spoilers). this is a stand alone, but assumes peter & matt have met before and so could live in the same universe as my day 16 fill.

>>Heartbeats on Pier 81

Peter’s face is broadcasted over all of New York, and losing his secret must feel a lot like dying to his mind because Peter sees his life flash before his eyes. Unlike death—and he would know—it’s not the past that he sees, but all the futures he’d hoped for disappearing.

He doesn’t remember much of what happens next. MJ tells him to run, so he does; Happy texts him that May is safe, so she is; a man throws a rotten tomato at his face, so he swings higher. He keeps swinging, as fast and as high as he can, until he leaves Queens and its familiarity behind. He doesn’t stop until he reaches the edge of Hell’s Kitchen, and only then because when he drops onto Pier 81 he runs out of buildings to leap on.

Peter walks all the way to the end, anyway, then hops over the chain rope fence that separates the walking area from the edge. With nowhere further to go, Peter slumps down and lets his legs trail over the side, greyish water snapping at his feet.

The pier’s not in the shape it once was, thanks to the Blip. The wood creaks ominously under the force of the river’s tides, chains hang limply on the deck instead of around cargo or attached to moored boats, and warehouse-sized shipping containers sit in various stages of rust and disrepair. The important feature in Peter’s mind, however, is that there’s no one around.

He hasn’t had a chance to install Karen in his new suit yet, so it’s quiet as he checks his phone and discovers seventy-three missed calls, one of which is from the New York Times, and a notification informing him that #SpideyParker is trending on Twitter.

Peter looks out over the Hudson and drops his phone into his lap without unlocking it. After a moment, he pulls his mask off and breathes in the unique smell of algae, salt, and diesel oil that only a river running through New York can create.

The tide is high, so the river is flowing out to the north. In a couple of hours the tide will lower and start flowing south, and then a few hours after that, back to the north again. The Hudson’s weird like that: consistent only in that you know it will change.

Peter’s always identified with it in that respect.

He’s not sure how long he stares at the water, thinking about everything and nothing, but it’s still not quite dusk when a lithe shadow drops down behind him. His Peter Tingle doesn’t so much as fizzle, so he doesn’t bother turning around or reaching for his mask.

Not that the last part matters anymore.

It’s probably not healthy, but after Mysterio he’s started relying on sight less and less, so he knows who his visitor is from the sound alone.

“I didn’t know it was legal for Daredevil to be out in the daytime,” he says, the crinkle of leather in Matt’s costume instantly recognizable. “There goes the internet conspiracy that you’re actually a vampire.”

Daredevil hums noncommittally, then lowers himself to the ground beside Peter.

“Spider-Man’s in Hell’s Kitchen, so it seems like a lot of theories are being broken today.” He drops one leg over the edge, bending the other in front of him and resting his elbow against it. “Thought I’d join in on the fun.”

“If you’re looking for fun, you could definitely do better.”

“True, but I’m guessing you can’t.” Matt hesitates. “If you want, I thought you could… Talk. About it.”

Peter leans his head back against a wooden post and closes his eyes. “You know?”

“I’m blind, not deaf.”

It’s stupid, because he knows the news is everywhere by now, but hearing it from another super hero makes it feel so impossibly real.

Matt shifts beside him. “Even if I were both, though, Foggy contacted me the second the broadcast went live. He’s pretty determined we’re going to be your legal team.”

Peter huffs out a laugh, running his hands through his hair. “Isn’t that a conflict of interest?”

“His best friend’s a lawyer that spends his nights bloodying his fists on criminals’ faces. I think our firm crossed that line long before you came along.” Matt tilts his head, probably listening to something seven blocks away or something, then carefully takes off his own mask. “But legally speaking, no. None of us have any reason to oppose your case. If anything, you could argue I have a vested interest.”

“Oh.” Peter bites his lip. “Even after…”

He trails off, looking at Matt’s face. He’s seen it before, of course, during the many times he dragged Ned down to the firm to get help with civics homework, but there’s something different about seeing him fully suited up without mask.

It feels honest, somehow—like all of him is on display, but in a good way.

Peter’s own exposure doesn’t feel so good.

He doesn’t know if Matt can tell he’s been staring, but the other man clears his throat. “After what, Peter?”

There are so many things Peter could say about what he means by after. The all-consuming terror he feels for the safety of his family and friends, now that his identity is exposed. How he’d thought he finally had his life back together, only for it to be ripped away so completely and utterly he no longer knows whether he can even go home anymore. The way people looked at him with naked fear or unbridled anger, and how he’s so afraid he’ll never be their Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man ever again. That he never asked for it, but he technically really does have access to a billion dollar surveillance network, and it’s probably super illegal and wildly unethical.

But it’s Daredevil he’s talking to, not May or Ned or Happy or even Tony, so he says the one thing that’s been eating away at him for days: the one thing only another vigilante could understand.

“I killed him.”

The words feel disgusting sliding out of his mouth, like his throat and lungs are coated in tar instead of air.

“I didn’t mean to,” he adds, suddenly desperate to let Matt know he didn’t, he didn’t, “but the drones were firing everywhere and I had to stop them, and I—I wasn’t paying attention to where the blasts were going as long as they weren’t hitting me.”

He chokes off, unable to continue. He’s terrified to look at Matt’s face now, afraid of the horror he’ll see.

But Matt just turns the Daredevil mask over in his hands, fingers running almost reverently across the seams. “I think it would be helpful if you started over from the beginning.”

It feels like sucking mud out of his chest at first, but slowly Peter reveals everything that had happened in Europe: Nick Fury showing up in his hotel room, the glasses and Stark’s legacy, the mind screw he’d gone through in Berlin. The train, the fight in London, the fake story Mysterio had created—the one he’d told to Peter, and then the one he’d told to Times Square. Quentin Beck’s body lying on the bridge, pupils constricted and lungs frozen and heart silent.

“…I can’t even bring myself be sad that he’s gone,” Peter finishes, staring into the lens of the mask in his hands so he doesn’t have to look at Matt. “I just feel guilty it had to be me.”

Daredevil doesn’t say anything at first, and Peter thinks he might drown in shame.

Finally, the other man clears his throat.

“As a lawyer,” Matt says, placing his mask on the pier between them, “I can say unquestionably that what you’re describing would be considered self-defense in a court of law. Any jury worth its salt would clear you of charges in under an hour.”

Peter swallows. “And as a fellow vigilante?”

Matt turns his head towards the river, tongue darting out briefly as if to taste it. “Did I ever tell you about the time I threw myself into the Hudson?”

Peter blinks at the apparent non sequitur. “You went in there willingly?”

Matt snorts. “Not exactly. It was early in my career, before I even had a suit. It was the first time I took on Fisk.”

Peter stills—Matt didn’t usually like talking about anything to do with the ex-mob boss.

“I was… angry. Stupid,” Matt says. “Fisk killed someone I cared about, but I wasn’t really interested in justice. I just wanted something to punch. So I tore through a bunch of his men until I found one that knew something; got directions to a pier where he might be at. Pier 81.”

Peter starts in surprise, and suddenly the abandoned shipping containers he’d passed seemed to have a lot more weight to them.

“It was a trap, of course.” Matt’s fingers ghost across his lower abdomen, so lightly Peter thinks he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

“And that’s when you jumped in the river?”

“No.” A sigh, and Matt’s hand drifts back down to the wooden slats. “No, that’s when I killed Nobu.”

Peter—Peter doesn’t understand.

Everyone in the New York super hero circle knows that Daredevil doesn’t kill, and Spider-Man more than most. It’s the one thing Matt’s warned him about constantly; always telling him to be wary of his strength and his temper, of the immense importance of giving someone a second chance, and that no matter how evil a person may seem, there’s still a spark of hope in there that he has no right to stamp out.

It’s one of the reasons Peter looks up to Matt so much, despite his brutality, because it’s a mindset none of the other vigilantes or even Avengers share.

“No—no who?” he says, voice strangled.

“Nobu. Nobu Yoshioka.” Matt ran his teeth over his lower lip. “He was a member of Murakami’s faction of the Hand. He also had a kyoketsu-shoge that he was very good at using. …I should probably be dead because of it.”

Peter pales, thinking of all the scars he’d seen on Matt’s torso in the past. He doesn’t like where this is going. “…Why aren’t you?”

“It was a lot like what happened with you and Mysterio, actually.” Peter flinches and looks down at his hands, red in the light of the sunset. “We were fighting; well, at that point I was mostly just trying to survive. I deflected one of his blades without paying attention to where it would ricochet, and it shattered a lamp above him. The sparks caught his robes on fire.”

A shudder runs through Peter, equal parts sympathy and horror. “You couldn’t have known.”

“No, I couldn’t have,” Matt agrees. “I also found out later that he came back to life, making it a moot point.”

Peter’s stomach attempts to turn itself inside out at the thought of having to face Mysterio again, but Matt seems to notice his discomfort.

“Don’t worry. My priest says I can’t recommend that method as a standard way of finding absolution.”

Peter offers him a shaky laugh, and Matt continues.

“I didn’t murder Nobu by any legal definition that night,” he says, “but I went into the situation with a lot of hate, and with the intention of killing someone else. I think that made me more of a murderer than any physical action I could’ve taken.”

He turns towards Peter, his eyes staring vacantly just over Peter’s shoulder. “I don’t think that’s a sin you’re carrying.”

Peter bites his lip, wanting to believe him but unsure how. “But I didn’t try to save him.”

“Clinton Church has confession hours right about now if you’re seeking penance.” There’s a smirk in Matt’s voice, and Peter can’t help but roll his eyes at the man’s persistence. “But if not…”

Peter looks up expectantly.

“If not, then I would ask you this: why don’t you want to kill?”

“Because that’s not my call.” Peter doesn’t have to think about it. “And because I think there’s always the possibility of redemption, for anyone.”

“Anyone, huh?” Matt tilts his head, then smiles. “Your heartbeat is steady.”

Peter frowns, then his mouth widens into an oh.

Anyone means him, too.

Peter pulls his legs up and rests his head on his knees. “Is using your human lie detector skills to make a point really all that ethical?”

“Foggy’s not here to stop me, so yes.” Matt picks his mask up. “But I don’t need it to prove your heart’s in the right place.”

Peter stares at him, expression suddenly so fishlike he’d blend right in with the Hudson.

Then he rapidly yanks his own mask over his face to hide the blush creeping up his neck. He coughs and blinks as the eye lenses readjust to the fading light. “Is that uh, is that your advice as a lawyer or as a vigilante?”

Matt laughs and shakes his head, sliding his mask into place. He stands and offers Peter his hand.

“It’s as a friend.”

#fictober19 #peter parker fic #daredevil fic #mcu fanfic #ffh spoilers #peter parker #matt murdock #tw: religious themes #both matt and peter have really specific opinions on killing #so this was fun to explore #memsfic

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daresplaining · 5 years

Note

Could you maybe make a post with some of the most inspiring Daredevil pages? Stuff like him overcoming the Purple Man making him more depressed and hopeless in Waid's run, or the "I am Daredevil, and I am not Afraid." page from Soule's run. Those kind of pages always help me when I'm feeling down, it would be cool to see more in that vein.

I love this request, and yes, I can definitely do that! I draw a lot of inspiration from Daredevil too (and superhero comics in general; that’s one of the purposes of the genre, in my experience), and refusing to give up when everything is falling apart is one of Matt’s trademark moves. Here are a few of my favorite moments– and I’m including the ones you mentioned, since I love them and want to make sure other people have seen them too.

[ID: The Kingpin is brutally beating up Matt, who is in civvies. Matt falls on his back, his face bloody.]

Matt: “Never give up– never–”

Let’s start with a classic:

[ID: Daredevil is fighting Namor. He tries electrocuting him, but the blast knocks him to the ground. As Namor walks away, Daredevil reaches out and grabs his ankle before passing out.]

Namor: “This is madness!! Does your own life mean nothing to you!?? Have you no sense of fear??”

Matt: “Sure! But I seem to have carelessly misplaced it somewhere! Now, just stand there for a second, fella– I want to try something!”

Caption: “Taking one last desperate gamble, Daredevil joins the two live wires, hoping to stagger his super-human foe! […] But, once again, the power of the Sub-Mariner is greater than any could suppose, and it is he who recovers first– while the Man Without Fear, despite his insulated gloves– lies weak, and dazed, and helpless…! Yet, how can one measure the limitless courage of a fellow human? Although on the brink of unconsciousness– although racked with pain and fatigue– still the sightless crusader reaches out–!”

Matt: “Come back! You– you mustn’t fight the others–! They’re innocent– mustn’t be harmed– mustn’t–!”

Namor: “[…] I have fought the Fantastic Four, the Avengers, and other super-powered humans, but none has been more courageous than he, the most vulnerable of all! And out of respect to the courage of Daredevil, I shall not injure any humans! I shall fly above the waiting armed forces– and return to the sea where I am supreme!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #7 by Stan Lee and Wally Wood

The issue that introduced the red Daredevil costume also crafted one of the first memorable depictions of Matt’s boundless resilience. Namor the Sub-Mariner comes ashore to sue the human race, and hires Nelson and Murdock to represent him. When the situation goes awry, Namor becomes violent, and Matt tries to subdue him. While he gets thoroughly thrashed in this fight, Matt’s persistence impresses Namor enough to make him leave the human race alone (for now). That image of a nearly-unconscious Daredevil clinging to Namor’s ankle is fairly iconic, with– I feel– good reason.

[ID: The Hulk backhands Daredevil a good distance, where he crashes into some trash cans. He is injured and bleeding, but he struggles back to his feet as the Hulk stands over him, deciding whether or not to finish him off.]

Hulk: “NO! Banner made the Hulk a monster and Hulk will find him, even if it takes forever!”

Matt: “Hulk… *koff*… you won’t find Banner… *koff*… this way. You can’t… *koff*… find Banner this way. The police… the authorities.. I-I want to help them understand… *koff*… and… *koff* … I want to help you. …But you’ll have to trust me.”

Daredevil vol. 1 #163 by Roger McKenzie, Frank Miller, and Glynis Wein

This is, thematically, a very similar situation to the first scene. The Hulk goes on a rampage and Matt tries to stop him. Just as in the Namor situation, Matt loses this fight– he is nearly beaten to death, and is confined to a hospital bed for quite a while afterward– but his courage breaks through the Hulk’s rage enough to calm him down. This is a recurring theme in their friendship. Matt first meets Bruce Banner when he is hired to represent the Hulk in court, and from the beginning, Matt has been vocal in his support of Bruce and sympathy for the Hulk. Despite the danger, Matt never hesitates to put himself within smashing distance of the Hulk for the sake of helping him.

[ID: A taxi is resting at the bottom of a river with its hood bashed in. Matt Murdock is unconscious in the front seat. We see a close-up of his eyes as they open in a defiant glare. The next few panels show the Kingpin standing at a window looking out, and photos of the cab after it has been pulled out of the river.]

Caption: “Unconscious but living, Murdock is placed in a stolen checker cab… The cab is driven off Pier 41 into the East River. Its safety belt and doors are corroded shut by a chemical process that is identical to rust. Murdock is drenched in whiskey. A bottle, open, is laid in his lap. The owner of the cab is beaten to death by Murdock’s stolen billy club. Days pass into weeks. Still Murdock is never far from the crimelord’s thoughts. He imagines one last, terrible moment of realization… of Murdock thrashing wildly, desperately, hatefully… screaming soundlessly into the poisoned water… The Kingpin shudders at the thought, in pleasure… The world seems flooded with sunlight. Daily business becomes a joyous, childlike game. He has disgraced, destroyed and murdered the only good man he has ever known. This is his triumph of the spirit.

“At last the cab is discovered. There is blood, and bloody evidence of a struggle. There is a shattered windshield… a safety belt, severed by the windshield’s glass and what must have been a hideous effort of will. There is no corpse.”

Daredevil vol. 1 #228 by Frank Miller, David Mazzucchelli, and R. Lewis

This is, of course, from the famous “Born Again” arc, and I had a hard time choosing a scene, since the whole story is essentially a seven-issue-long depiction of Matt being knocked down and then standing back up. (I highly recommend reading it if anyone hasn’t, and I also summarized it here. I also cheated by including another scene at the beginning of this post…). However, the scene above is a turning point and possibly my favorite moment in the whole story. At this point Matt has lost it all: his friends, his career, his reputation, his money, and his home. In a fit of desperate, delirious anger, he attacks the Kingpin, who beats him unconscious and then– in the scene above– tries to kill him once and for all. The above issue starts with Matt curled up on a bed in a hotel room, unable to force himself to even move. He seems thoroughly beaten, and the Kingpin assumes the same, which is why he decides to stop toying with his victim and just finish the job. But in spite of all of this, Matt freaking Murdock refuses to die, and he somehow finds the strength to physically fight his way out of this seemingly unsurvivable situation. The fact that we don’t see him do it– that we only get the Kingpin’s reaction and that panel of Matt’s defiant glare after regaining consciousness– makes this act of resilience all the more powerful.

[ID: Daredevil is fighting the Vulture (the Spider-Man villain). Daredevil pins him to the ground and starts punching him in the face.]

Matt: “A while ago, you said I secretly wanted to die. You were wrong. Cowards want to die. I’m no coward. I’m proving it– to you and to myself– by beating you… you– and everything you represent… the death and decay that eat away at a man until he surrenders… the horror that pulls you down into the pit! Well, I’m not the surrendering kind, mister! Got that? I never give up!”

Daredevil vol. 1 #225 by Denny O’Neil, David Mazzucchelli, and Ken Feduniewicz

Matt is not at all a suicidal person (I’ve seen some fans claim otherwise, but he really isn’t), and this scene comes from a rare issue that covers that topic. It takes place shortly after Heather Glenn’s suicide, and it explores how the spectre of her death haunts Matt and Foggy’s lives afterward. In this story, the concept of death is represented by the Vulture, who Matt discovers trying to rob Heather’s grave. Later, he appears at the offices of Nelson and Murdock, which have just gone bankrupt. Upset by this loss, Foggy wanders up to the roof and contemplates his life, at which point he encounters the Vulture. Matt, fearing that Foggy might kill himself, goes up after him in costume and tries to fight the Vulture off. For a moment, during the fight, Matt contemplates whether he actually wants to lose, before returning to his senses and defeating both the Vulture and his own dark thoughts.

[ID: Daredevil is fighting a huge crowd of grotesque-looking demons while carrying a lit torch. He holds up the torch and the demons scatter.]

Matt: “My whole life, endless fighting. What a fate. I wonder, could I change that fate? No matter how many I kill, they keep on coming.”

Mephisto: “Ha ha ha ha ha! I love it! That’s it, you big hero. Keep fighting. Fight till you drop that torch.”

Matt: “What if… what if I just stopped? If I just stopped fighting. If you stop fighting, isn’t the fight over? Yes. Yes, yes, yes. They can’t touch me. Okay, Mephisto. I’m coming for you. You made a mistake. You believe your evil breaks a man. Sometimes it does. But when it doesn’t break a man– it makes him even stronger.”

Daredevil vol. 1 #281 by Ann Nocenti, John Romita Jr., and Christie Scheele

This is from Matt’s literal trip to Hell in Nocenti’s run (Hell is a cosmic setting in the Marvel universe, and Mephisto is a recurring antagonist, so this isn’t quite as bizarre as it sounds…). While trapped in a seemingly endless wasteland and attacked by hoards of demons, Matt musters enough free will and spirit (as represented by the fire he’s carrying) to not only survive, but to actually challenge Mephisto. It’s great.

[ID: Matt is crouched on the side of a building at night, in the rain. He is wearing the Daredevil suit but has taken the mask off. He puts his hand to his face in emotional anguish.]

Matt: “I’ve got to pull myself together. My world is falling apart and I am helping it every single step of the way. I have to focus. Focus. Foggy is right. My entire life– everything is up for grabs. Everything I’ve built– everything I am– can be taken away from me. Have to center my energies. Have to think. Focus. Center and focus. Center and focus. Don’t listen to their camera motors and their cell phones. Don’t listen to them. The phone calls. All I hear is my name over and over: Murdock. Murdock, Murdock. That name is not theirs to say. It’s not theirs! It’s mine. They’re stealing it from me. No! Stop it. Center and focus. Center and focus. Center and–”

Mugging victim (off-panel): Noooo!”

Matt: “Focus.”

Daredevil vol. 2 #35 by Brian Michael Bendis, Alex Maleev, and Matt Hollingsworth

I love this little moment from Bendis’s run. It’s small and subdued, but highly moving in the context of what Matt is dealing with in this story. His identity has been made public, there are crowds of reporters camped outside his home, his entire life is at risk of falling apart, but he takes this second to pause, think, and regain some sense of control.

[ID: Matt stands up and prepares to fight. He is armed with two tonfa, and is wearing black clothes reminiscent of his Man Without Fear costume, but without a mask. His head is bandaged.]

Matt: “You think you can… turn me into a blubbering wreck… by preying on my fears… but I’ve already faced them– and come out the other side! You understand me, Calavera? I know what I am… who I am… and I am not afraid!”

Daredevil: Reborn #4 by Andy Diggle, Davide Gianfelice, and Matt Hollingsworth

The Reborn mini-series follows Matt’s attempt at emotional recovery in the aftermath of “Shadowland”. Having quite literally lost his identity and had his spirit broken by getting possessed by a demon, he goes out west and, through helping right some wrongs in a small town in New Mexico, he reaffirms his sense of self.

[ID: A stormy winter night. Ferry pilots (Sid and Ronnie, off-panel) are waiting for Daredevil to resurface from the river. As their ferry moves away, Daredevil hauls himself out of the freezing water and onto a dock.]

Sid: “It’s been a while, Ronnie– think he’s still down there?”

Ronnie: “Sid– you a moron? Where else would he be?”

Sid: “Beats me. Just askin’. It’s too bad– looks like he went back down there for nothin’. ‘Cept maybe to die.”

Ronnie: “Well, I’m not givin’ up just yet.”

Sid: “No? Why not?”

Ronnie: “’Cause I don’t think he would.”

Daredevil: Dark Nights #2 by Lee Weeks and Lee Loughridge

The first Dark Nights story is a celebration of Matt’s willpower, as he travels through a blizzard to deliver a heart transplant to a dying little girl. I particularly love this scene, in which Matt dives into the river to rescue the heart and the pilots transporting it from their crashed helicopter, and despite the cold and his exhaustion, he powers through and survives the experience.

[ID: Daredevil is bleeding and horribly injured, and crouched in the mud under a bridge. The Purple Man is standing above him, about to hit him with a plank of wood.]

Purple Man: “Shouldn’t you be angry? Shouldn’t you put up a struggle?”

Matt (caption): “But that’s how far down the pit I’ve fallen. I can’t even respond to his orders.

Purple Man: “Come on. This is too easy. Don’t rob me of a victory I’ve waited years for.”

Matt (caption): “All I can do is sink into the blackness. I can’t feel pain. I can’t move because I have nothing to push against. Nothing.”

Purple Man: “Show me some fear.”

[ID: Daredevil kicks the Purple Man, then falls back to his knees. ]

Matt (caption): “That. That, I know how to fight. Get up. You have momentum now. Don’t lose it. Don’t let the shadows pull you back in. Inertia is the enemy. Do something. Move. Move, Matthew.”

Daredevil vol. 4 #10 by Mark Waid, Chris Samnee, and Matt Wilson

I’m glad you mentioned this scene because it’s one of my favorites too, as is this story arc as a whole. Waid’s depiction of depression is visceral and heartrending because it’s something he himself suffers from, and that realism makes Matt’s struggle to move forward and fight against his despair all the more impactful.

As an extension of the above moment, Matt’s decision to talk with Kirsten at the end of the issue (which I discussed at length here) is also breathtaking.

[ID: A black page with a red heart monitor readout at the bottom. It flatlines, then spikes once.]

Matt (caption): “I cannot see the light. So I will be the light. I am Daredevil. And I am not afraid.”

Daredevil vol. 5 #612 by Charles Soule and Phil Noto

And this moment– there’s nothing more badass than Matt literally willing himself back to life! “I am Daredevil. And I am not afraid” is a refrain that is repeated throughout Soule’s run, which is a neat way of tying his run together and emphasizing Matt’s relentless determination.

[ID: Matt is alone in a gym, struggling to walk between two parallel bars. He falls, then, with a huge effort, pulls himself back up.]

Jack (off-panel): “Fear’s of no use to us, Matt. We have to live with it, but it’s not for anything. But pain? What’s pain for, Matt? What’s pain for?”

Matt: “Pain keeps us going.”

Man Without Fear vol. 2 #5 by Jed MacKay, Danilo Beyruth, and Andres Mossa

The new Man Without Fear was another great recovery story, and gave us this really great moment when Matt, after suffering through the physical and emotional destruction of being hit by a truck, finally regains his fighting spirit.

I also wanted to include a few scenes of other people being inspired by Matt’s courage and resilience, because there are some great ones. Here’s one of my favorites, from Waid’s run:

[ID: Foggy is sitting in a circle with a group of fellow cancer patients. They are all wearing Daredevil shirts.]

Foggy: “Ah, excellent. You all dressed for the occasion. I’ll be straight up with you folks. I have a friend. He’s probably the bravest man I’ve ever met. And no matter how much I beg him to teach me to be like him… in the whole time I’ve known him, I’ve learned only one thing about fearlessness: it’s contagious.”

Daredevil vol. 3 #31 by Mark Waid, Chris Samnee, and Javier Rodriguez

I love this aspect of Foggy’s cancer plotline– the fact that Foggy uses Matt as a source of inspiration for facing his own fear. These two have always been emotional anchors for each other, providing moral support and guidance in difficult times, and that’s part of what makes their friendship so powerful. Here, Foggy is largely on his own. Matt can’t punch cancer, and Foggy doesn’t even tell him about the symptoms at first. But from the very beginning, Foggy latches onto Matt’s fearlessness as a way of fending off his own terror about the diagnosis. As I said at the beginning of the post, part of the purpose of superhero stories is to serve as inspiration for their readers to be kind and courageous in their own lives, and it’s wonderful when characters within those stories are impacted in that same way by the superheroes around them. To take this concept one meta step further, Foggy’s cancer story– the whole thing, including his drawing strength from his best friend– is in itself a hero story for readers who may be going through similar experiences.

[ID: Flashback panels colored in black and white with hints of red. Matt (in civvies) is attacked by a group of ninjas on a city street. He fights them while Foggy runs and hides around a corner.]

Foggy (caption): “When you were around, it was different. The fear wasn’t so real. I was still freaked whenever anything happened… my nerves were a car wreck… but even as I was sweating bullets, I somehow knew I was safe. Because of you.”

Daredevil vol. 2 #88 by Ed Brubaker, Michael Lark, David Aja, and Frank D’Armata

…And another great Foggy and Matt scene, this one from “The Secret Life of Foggy Nelson”, one of my favorite issues of Brubaker’s run. Foggy has been separated from Matt against his will, and in his isolation and fear, he reflects on their friendship and draws strength from Matt’s example.

[ID: Luke Cage is sitting comfortably in a chair, legs crossed, directly addressing the reader.]

Luke: “Daredevil. I know him pretty well, actually. Well, as well as he lets anyone know him. End of the day, without question, he’s one of the best. Ever. I’m not going to get into who he is and how he became who he became. And I know there are a lot of people who think they know all there is to know about Daredevil and all of his secrets. But I can tell you from personal experience that the information that’s out there about him is pretty much crap. Let’s just leave it at that. All you need to know about Daredevil is that this man has sacrificed everything to try to make this city safer. He has lost more and suffered more for his dedication to you than, well, anybody I know. And I know some people who’ve suffered and lost. He ain’t the strongest of us, and he ain’t the flashiest… but Daredevil cannot be brought down. It cannot happen.”

New Avengers vol. 2 #16 by Brian Michael Bendis, Mike Deodato, and Rain Beredo

And last but not least, here an excerpt from a great speech Luke Cage gives after Matt joins the Avengers. Even other superheroes– all of whom tend toward superhuman resilience– are impressed by Matt.

#Daredevil #Matt Murdock #Asks #Commentary #Adventures in Continuity

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