daredevilkink | Prompt Post #5

Entry tags:

prompt post

Prompt Post #5

THIS POST IS CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS.
HEAD OVER TO PROMPT POST #6.

Keep filling prompts on this post! Make sure to link any new fic on the complete or work in progress fills posts so it doesn't get missed.

Please read the current rules before commenting on this post.

Leave a prompt. Fill a prompt. Everyone wins!
Previous Rounds: Prompt Post #1 | Prompt Post #2 | Prompt Post #3 | Prompt Post #4

Mod Post | Discussion/Off-Topic Post | AO3 Collection | Searchable Prompts on Delicious
Fills: Completed & WIPs

Rules:
General
YKINMKATO. Play nice. If you don't like something, scroll on.

All comments must be anon. If you would like to be politely banned to avoid anon-failing, leave a logged-in comment on the mod post or pm the mod account.

Subject lines should only be changed if you're posting a prompt or a fill (indicators like OP or Author!Anon should go in the body of the comment).

RPF is allowed. Crossovers, characters from the extended Marvel Universe and comics canon are allowed, but must relate to the 2015 TV show in some way.

Discussion not related to the prompt should be moved to the discussion/off-topic post.

Drop a comment on the mod post if you have any questions or problems.

Prompts
All types of prompts are welcome.

Use the subject line for the main idea of your prompt (pairing or characters, keywords, kink).

Warnings are nice, but not mandatory. Get DW Blocker if there's anything you really don't want to see.

Reposted prompts are allowed once one round has passed - i.e., prompts from post #2 cannot be reposted until post #4. Please include a link to where it has been previously posted.

Fills
Put [FILL] or something similar in the subject line when posting a fill.

Announce your fill on either the Completed Fills Post or the WIP Post.

Long fills can either be posted over multiple comments, or posted on AO3 and linked back here.

Multiple fills are always okay.

Fills can be anything! Fic, art, vids are all welcome.

If it wasn't written specifically for the prompt, it doesn't count as a fill. You are welcome to provide a link to already existing fic that does fit the prompt, in case the prompter hasn't seen it, but it doesn't count as a fill.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Tony - no powers (stays the same?)
Clint - no powers (stays the same?)
Bruce - adult
Steve - adult
Nat - depends if you're going comics or MCU, but I think she's meant to be unenhanced in MCU. In comic-verse, I think she was in late teens when she joined the Black Widow program
Wanda and Pietro - adult in MCU; probably adolescent/early teen in comics, as is the case for most mutants
Thor - tiny baby

So yeah, Matt would be the second-youngest, and one of the most freaked out.

Shit. Shit. Shit. This is long.
http://archiveofourown.org/works/4530951

You really should, it's very good, but yes it's totally angsty. And it's even worse when you know it actually happened :( the author of the book heard the whole story from Dick.
I certainly hope someone decides to do it because I think it could suit Matt/Foggy really well And I really don't think I could do it justice either

Why can't Killgrave control Matt? Is this a comics continuity thing?

Ooooh noooooooo. Poor DA Nelson

It's a comics thing. In the original oldschool DD, Matt's will is too strong for Killgrave to overcome and Daredevil is the only hero he can't control. There's even a classic quote from Killgrave, something along the lines of "*evil cackle* You're the only one able to resist me, Daredevil, so you deserve to die!" which there's a variation of in this fic.

Of course it doesn't always work and there are moments when Killgrave amps up his power and even Matt is overcome, but the general rule is that Daredevil is immune to Killgrave's powers.

(Sorry that took a couple days, mousies!)

The snacks actually aren't bad—even Matt deigns to eat some without making faces, and Matt can be a fairly picky eater sometimes. It's a reprieve, too. About half the people around the tables look vaguely familiar, and they squint at him like maybe they think he's familiar too, but they didn't interact enough that they care about each other, and Foggy finds that being forgotten is kind of comforting, especially after everything being so weird with Jake.

Matt relaxes a little too, now that people don't keep surprising them being either terrible or much better than expected. “I really don't think I want to go to mine, if it happens,” says Matt, when the third terrible song in a row starts playing and Foggy is starting to wonder if he should go find Meg again, if only because he could use a refresher on a beer.

“Oh no, if we suffer through mine, we suffer through yours, no shirking. I probably won't even need to pity date you, you're a hotter commodity on your own.”

Matt fumbles the appetizer he's trying to eat and then catches it when he shouldn't be able to, which actually tells Foggy a lot more about how rattled he suddenly is. “Pity d—pity? Foggy, what?”

“Oh, hi!” Foggy tells the nearest person who looks familiar, way too enthusiastic, and nearly has a heart attack when the nearest person who looks familiar turns out to be Benny Rosenbaum. He's done something terrible in a past life. It's the only explanation. “Oh, Jesus, hi, sorry, I just saw you were familiar, I probably would have been way cooler about that if I realized it was you.”

Benny laughs and shifts his snacks to one hand so he can shake Foggy's. He looks good, all settled and mature and wedding-ringed. He isn't even going bald. There is no God. “Foggy, it's good to see you! I forgot to ask on Facebook if you were coming, I was hoping you'd show up. You must be pretty busy, with your own practice.”

“Sounds like you're pretty busy at work too,” says Foggy, since it seems pretty safe, and then jumps a little when Matt taps his arm. “Sorry, I'm being rude. Matt, this is Benjamin Rosenbaum.” And there goes his sleeve needing ironing. Matt is just lucky that Foggy is the ironing master. “Benny—sorry, you're probably Ben or Benjamin now. Anyway, this is Matt Murdock, he's my partner.”

“Hey man, great to meet you. And Ben is fine. My wife's around the party somewhere, she's just on the phone with her sister since she has the kid tonight.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” says Matt. He's still juggling an appetizer in one hand and has the other on Foggy's jacket, so he doesn't stick out his hand to shake. Probably for the best. He doesn't look too pleased and Foggy suspects he's going to get a really earnest lecture later about how doing things for his best friend doesn't translate to pity. “Foggy's mentioned you.”

Benny—Ben, Foggy should do better about that—grins at Foggy. “Did you? I'm honored. I think I've seen you mentioned in his posts a time or two. I should have realized he would bring you. How long have you two been together?”

“We got assigned as roommates, first year of law school.” Matt takes a bite of his appetizer.

Ben raises his eyebrows. “That long?”

Foggy shakes his head. “No, took us a while to get used to each other and get our acts together. We only decided to do the big official commitment stuff six months ago or so.” Nelson and Murdock counts as official commitment stuff. Matt's the one who said it was like they were getting married, even if he was joking. It's the closest he can get to not lying.

“Well, congratulations! I've been married a few years now, it's good.”

“Tell me all about it, man.” Listening to Ben's life story is a lot safer than trying to come up with lies on the fly with Matt.

Ben talks a lot about accounting and his wife and the baby, who's apparently four months old now. Foggy makes the appropriate cooing noises over the pictures and describes them all to Matt, since Matt is a sucker for kids. Matt doesn't quite relax, but he doesn't actively scowl or say anything polite that actually means he's looking for excuses to eviscerate anyone.

It's kind of nice. Reassuring, almost. His high school was not filled with monsters and teen movie characters. This is probably how most people's high school reunions go, exchanging mildly boring stories with people they haven't thought much about in years.

It's also really boring, and Foggy feels mildly embarrassed about his teenage self's taste. His teenage self's taste is apparently a lot less dangerous than his current self's, but at least he's never bored around Matt.

“What about you two?” Ben asks, at the tail end of a story about the baby, and Foggy gets abruptly less bored. “Planning to have kids?”

“No,” says Foggy, way too fast, and tries not to wince when Matt flinches and Ben raises his eyebrows. “We both work way too much at this point, and we're going to have to keep doing it until the firm's on its feet. Kids aren't a good plan right now.”

“I'd like to adopt someday,” Matt says, shuffling around in the way that usually means he's embarrassed and probably not lying. Foggy kind of wants to ask if he's planning to give up the Daredevil thing when he has a kid, but that would be way more cruel than he wants to be tonight. “But Foggy is right, we're nowhere near ready for that.”

“Anyway, that got really heavy.” Foggy makes a show of checking his phone. “And we should check in with Meg to make sure murder hasn't been done. It was good to run into you, Ben. I'll look forward to seeing more pictures of the kid on Facebook. Look us up if you're ever in the city.”

“Of course!” Ben shakes his hand again. “I should go find Pat anyway, she probably got cornered by Stephanie or something. Nice to see you, Foggy—and nice to meet you, Matt.”

“It's a pleasure,” says Matt, and he even sounds like he's not totally lying.

Foggy grabs a few more appetizers and drags Matt away from the table, looking for a clear space in the crowd, which seems to have become significantly drunker while they were distracted talking to his high school crush. “Well, that was fun,” he says when Matt has not-very-subtly nudged him in the direction of a free patch of wall, near a potted tree so they can lurk a little.

“He's not attracted to you,” Matt says, and he sounds huffy about it.

If Foggy were not invested in keeping the remaining few sips of his beer safe, he would throw his hands up in exasperation. “You're mad because Jake is attracted to me and you're mad because Benny isn't. Could you at least try to be consistent? For me?”

Matt scowls off into space. “You didn't want Jake to be attracted to you.”

“And I didn't want Benny to be either.” Matt shakes his head, and Foggy sighs. “Listen to me, Matt, am I lying? I don't want Benny to be attracted to me. He has a wife, and I have not had a sex dream about him in like nine years. I had a crush on him in high school. That doesn't mean I have one now. Honestly, it was more awkward than anything else to spend time with him.”

“But—”

“Quit it.” Foggy finishes off his beer, because he needs to take a second to collect himself. “What is up with you, Matty? You were the one who wanted me to come to this thing in the first place, and now you're being weird about it.”

Matt keeps scowling. “You called it pity dating. Before you started talking to him. I told you earlier that it isn't. But if we try to explain each other away, it's going to sound like we're ashamed, and I'm not. So I'm fine being your boyfriend tonight.”

“That's … okay, we will come back to that, because that isn't what I asked. Why are you being so weird about my classmates? I told you it was going to suck.”

“I shouldn't have made you come.”

Great. Good old-fashioned guilt. Foggy knows how to deal with that where Matt is concerned. “Meg made me come, for the record. Meg and my mom. You just offered to come and help.”

“I'm not helping. I'm upsetting you.”

“Hey.” Foggy puts his empty bottle down next to the tree and promises himself that he's going to leave a really great tip for housekeeping when he checks out. “You aren't upsetting me. It's just a really weird night and part of that includes you being weird. And pretending to date me. You didn't get the urge to do that when I saw Marci after we broke up for the first time.”

“*Marci already realized that you're special. They don't.” Matt gestures around at the room at large.

Foggy stares at him for a second, and sometimes he loves Matt so much it's overwhelming. Mostly it's the same way he loves his mother—sure, he loves her all the time, but he doesn't think about it every minute of every day. Sometimes it's a lot tougher to deal with, and these days it's worse because Matt can probably smell fondness or something. “Jesus, Matt. I don't actually care what they think.”

“Yes, you do. You keep talking about winning the reunion.”

“And it's stressing you out that I'm so obviously not.” He puts his hand on Matt's arm. “Just listen to me, okay? I want these people to think I'm cool, yes, because I got talked into coming here and it would suck to come and feel like a loser, but I really don't care about them anymore. I care what you think, what Karen thinks, what my family thinks, and what our clients think. And possibly what Captain America thinks, if you ever bring him home like the proverbial cat with mice. That's about it.”

“I'm not going to bring Captain America home, Foggy,” says Matt, but he sounds a little choked up. “Okay. If you're sure. I just want … you deserve …”

“Yeah, I deserve the revenge fantasy every lonely nerd has about school reunions, but I've got you, and in about ten minutes I'm going to have another beer and we'll see if we can find the inevitable classmate who will be shocked by us both being guys and have some fun.”

“If you're sure,” Matt says, but his face is lightening and when Foggy offers his arm, he takes it.

*

Foggy my sweet bear, yopu are too trusted. You must not trust in this unoverse Matt. Youa re justa mean to an end and i dont want to see you hurt.
Look at teh smug SOAB teasing you about Matt

Matt you are being an idiot. Kiss him already dude

Oh Foggy. Matt knows your game very much
Love the stalker part. He is the kind of guy that needs to knwo what happens and wont be ashamed to go to the extremes.

This isn't the fic that I initially set out to write, but I hope it still works for you, OP. There's a little *handwaving* with regards to Clint's hearing loss (because I refuse to admit that MCU!Clint isn't deaf so there's some of my own headcanons in that part).

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

Tony
“Come back to the Tower with us, relax a little. We won’t even make you take off your suit, although god knows that thing can’t be that comfortable…”

Stark’s words are easy, light-hearted and sarcastic, nothing on the surface to suggest that he isn’t telling the truth. But Matt isn’t paying attention to just what’s on the surface and Tony’s heartbeat spikes when he’s talking. Something in what he’s saying doesn’t add up, something that Stark is thinking about that he’s very carefully not saying.

And Matt thinks he has idea what that is. “I can keep the suit on but that won’t stop you from figuring out who I am, is that what you’re saying?”

“When did I ever say anything about figuring out your secret identity?” Stark scoffs, but his heart is still racing and Matt knows that he wasn’t wrong.

Next to him, Clint sighs. “You can’t use JARVIS to figure out everyone’s secrets without their permission, Tony, you know that.”

“What? Of course I can, why do you think I have an AI to run the Tower in the first place?”

Matt sighs. “Some other time, perhaps,” he says delicately, by which he means he has no plans to ever end up at Avengers Tower but he knows better than to say that directly.

Steve
Matt doesn’t remember how he ended up back in the Tower, because that was definitely not his intention. There was a fight down in Hell’s Kitchen, some weird alien robot tech that luckily drew the attention of some of the Avengers. Matt thinks he got hit in the head with something- would explain the pain in his skull, at very least- but things get a little fuzzy between the Hell’s Kitchen rooftop where he was fighting and ending up in the medical ward of Avengers Tower.

The team is there, some of them getting checked out for injuries of them own, but most just waiting around to hear if their teammates are going to be cleared. It’s Steve who wanders over to where Matt is lying and asks, “How are you holding up, Daredevil?”

Matt shrugs. “I’ve had worse.” A probable concussion in Avengers Tower is still better than bleeding to death on his apartment floor. Not better by much, but still. “Sorry you guys had to get involved.”

“It’s what we do,” Steve says, shifting slightly and- oh. That’s interesting.

Expensive Italian food and the faint smoke from a candle and the even fainter smell of a nice, floral perfume underneath that.

“Well, I just hope your date understands,” Matt says, trying his hardest not to burst out laughing when Steve’s heart skips a beat.

“What was that about a date?” Natasha calls from across the room. “Steve, why didn’t I know about this? Who was she, and how did you meet?”

“How did you know about the date?” Steve asks. He sounds annoyed, and Matt wonders how nervous he should be. “I didn’t tell anyone about that, for this very reason. How did you know?”

Matt shrugs. “Lucky guess,” he says with a smirk. He has no plans on sharing all of his secrets with the Avengers, not yet. Maybe not ever.

“Next time, keep your lucky guesses to yourself,” Steve tells him sternly. “We don’t need you sharing our personal information with other people.”

“It’s downright creepy how he can do that,” Tony mutters from across the room, and Matt has to stifle a grin because he knows he wasn’t supposed to hear that.

“Sure, Cap,” he says instead. “Whatever you say.”

Clint
Matt doesn’t know if Clint’s hearing loss is supposed to be common knowledge or not. His implants are hi-tech, probably the best that Stark could make for him, but if Matt listens closely enough he can still hear the faint noises they make, the ones that Clint himself probably can’t even make out. It’s easy enough to tune out, and after spending so much time around the Avengers Matt honestly hardly even notices it anymore.

He notices when Clint gets knocked down in a fight, though, can’t help but notice because the Avenger goes down hard, out cold from a blow to the side of his head. It’s just the two of them tonight and Matt doesn’t have time to be worried because with Clint out for the count he’s fighting a dozen thugs on his own. It doesn’t take long for Matt to take care of the other guys, incapacitating them all in some way so they won’t be a threat as he kneels down next to Clint and tries to figure out how injured he is.

The first thing he notices isn’t any broken bones or the faint smell of blood from a cut somewhere on his head, but the way his left implant just sounds… off. Matt would put money on it being broken and he can only hope that the other one is working fine because Clint chooses that moment to groan and slowly start to come around.

“What…? Daredevil, what…?” he asks, voice only slightly slurred. He frowns and tries to reach up to touch his left ear, but Matt catches his hand and stops him.

“Don’t,” Matt says. “I don’t know anything about your implants, but I don’t want you rubbing your ear and making things worse.”

“What?” Clint asks. “Daredevil, I can’t-”

“Hear me, I know,” Matt finishes. He sighs and tries to lean over Clint more so the other man can read his lips, hopes that Clint knows how to read lips because he doesn’t know how to sign. “The implant in your left ear got damaged,” he says, a little louder so his one working ear can pick it up. “If something got knocked loose I don’t want it to move and cause more damage.”

Clint’s heartrate skyrockets and Matt thinks it’s just panic at being down an ear until Clint says, “How do you know about the cochlear implants? No one is supposed to know about them.”

“I, uh…” Crap. He doesn’t want to say that he heard them, because he doesn’t think people are supposed to hear them, but he assumed that there was something visible on the outside of Clint’s ear that people would have been able to see. Apparently these were more hi-tech than he thought and that’s not the case.

Clint is sitting up, scrambling for his bow and standing on shaking legs. “You know what, I don’t care,” he bites out. “You tell anyone about this and I’ll put an arrow through you, you hear me?”

Matt wonders if answering with loud and clear would be insensitive in this scenario so instead he asks, “Do you need help getting back to the Tower?”

“No,” Clint says as he starts shuffling down the alley, away from Matt. “You just keep your weird secret-detecting senses away from me.”

Natasha
Matt has never met anyone who lies as much as Natasha does. She lies about everything- where she was when she left the Tower, what she was doing when she was holed up in her room for hours at a time, why she doesn’t want to take part in a team-bonding night. She lies about things that she doesn’t even need to lie about, like the type of tea she’s drinking, as if she wants to prove to herself that she can still get away with it all.

And the annoying part is that she’s good at it. Hardly any of the usual tell-tale signs are there, which just makes Matt focus harder to pick out what her tells actually are. And once he figures them out he can’t stop noticing them every time she tells another lie.

“I was doing yoga in the park,” she says when she returns to the Tower early one morning.

“Liar,” Matt whispers when she walks past him.

“No I’m not hungry, I ate earlier,” she lies later that night.

“Lying again,” Matt murmurs as he reaches past her to grab a plate for himself.

“We’ll let him go, maybe he’ll lead us back to the rest of the gang,” she says, when they’ve finished interrogating a criminal on a rooftop in Hell’s Kitchen.

Matt sighs in disappointment and says, “Seriously? You’re still trying to lie to me?”

“What can I say? Old habits die hard,” Natasha says.

Another lie, and this is seriously starting to get old. “You aren’t going to be able to fool me, you know,” he says casually as he moves to the edge of the building. “So how about you make this easier for both of us and not lie about what you’re going to do with this guy once I leave, okay?”

He jumps over the edge with ease and Natasha calls after him, “At least tell me how you do it! No one should be as good at reading me as you are!”

He smirks, and says nothing. A little puzzle for her to try to figure out.

Thor
Matt doesn’t see the Asgardian member of the Avengers very often, and frankly he’s perfectly okay with that. Thor has a tendency to just be a little… much, sometimes. Natasha once described him as “an overly muscled teddy bear” and Matt doesn’t know if that’s supposed to be a comforting description but it really isn’t. Especially not after Matt sees him fight and instantly decides that he never wants to get on the guy’s bad side.

So it’s just his luck that he runs into Thor when he’s trying to sneak out of Avengers Tower before Natasha tries to corner him and interrogate him about his abilities again. Antagonizing the Avengers was slightly more fun before he accidentally freaked them out and put them on high-alert.

All of them except Thor, apparently, who claps Matt on the back hard enough to leave a bruise and says, “Ah, Daredevil! Come, join me in feasting and drinking!”

“Um, thanks but I was actually just leaving,” Matt says and, because Thor smells like he bathed in a distillery, he can’t help but add, “Besides, it seems like you’ve been doing enough drinking for both of us.”

“Your Midgardian liquors are hardly strong enough to truly get me drunk!”

Matt wonders if Thor always booms like this. “Really? Because you’ve had… what, four? Five different types of alcohol tonight? I think even someone like you would be feeling that in the morning.”

“You have a keen sense of smell, Daredevil!” Thor says with a laugh. His hand is still draped over Matt’s shoulders. Matt wonders if he has any hope of slipping away and decides, probably not. “I do not quite remember everything I have consumed, but they were all delicious.”

Matt quietly sniffs the air, immediately regrets it because Thor has consumed a lot in recent hours, and says, “Coconut rum and triple sec, mixed with orange juice. Whiskey- expensive, too, I’d bet. And some terrible, cheap moscato that I’m surprised Stark had in the Tower at all. An… eclectic taste in alcohol, that’s for sure.”

Thor laughs again. “That does sound correct. But tell me, Daredevil, can you tell what foods I have eaten?”

“A chicken sandwich, lettuce and tomato but no sauces on it. Fish, of some sort- salmon, maybe? With a lemon butter sauce on it. And…” He has to sniff again and his stomach starts to roll. “Sausage, with onions and peppers. A lot of onions.”

Matt absolutely does not want to be anywhere near Thor when his stomach protests against everything he’s put in it, so he needs to end this conversation immediately. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Thor, I’m afraid I really must be going…”

“Of course! My apologies for keeping you!” Thor claps him on the back again. Matt feels like he’s going to be bruised for a week. “You must return soon, and show the others this remarkable ability of yours! I am sure they will be as amused as I!”

Matt really, really doubts that but he smiles weakly and says, “Yeah, sure. I’ll, uh, make sure to do that,” and beats a very hasty retreat.

Bruce
Matt never sees Bruce outside the Tower. He knows that the guy does go on missions with the team, but always ones that are away from other people. The ones in isolated locales, where there are no bystanders that could get hurt. And it takes several weeks of Matt coming to the Tower on a fairly regular basis before he even sees Bruce for longer than a few minutes in passing.

Matt almost expects Dr. Banner to be skittish and shy, considering how little Matt has seen of him up until this point, but he has an easy camaraderie with the rest of the team that is quickly extended to include Matt. He might not be the loudest in the group- few people are when they’re competing with Tony Stark and Thor- but he has a sharp sense of humor, always the first to crack a dry joke or give a witty comeback.

Then the call comes through that the Avengers are needed upstate somewhere and it’s Steve that says, “I don’t think we’ll need you on this one, Bruce. You okay staying behind?”

“Yeah, of course,” Bruce says. His heartrate spikes- a lie. “Let’s try to keep everyone out of the medical wing this time.”

“We’ll do our best,” Steve says, and then the rest of the team is gone.

“You should probably get going yourself,” Bruce says to Matt once everyone else has left. “I’m sure you have work to do down in Hell’s Kitchen, and I have some experiments running down in the lab…”

Matt is reminded of the first time he met Tony Stark, when the man lied so easily that only his heartrate gave him away. But there’s none of Stark’s irreverence in Bruce’s words, only an earnest and desperate need to have Matt believe the lies he’s being fed. And Matt should play along because he may like antagonizing the Avengers, but even he’s not enough of a dick to push and prod when someone sounds as low as Bruce does. But he gets the feeling that no one else on the team has said anything about this, and that doesn’t sit right with him at all.

“I actually don’t have anything to do tonight,” he says. “You sure you don’t want the company?”

“No, I’m- I’m fine.”

Another lie and Matt says, voice as quiet and gentle as he can make it, “You know I can tell when you’re lying, right?”

“I’m not lying,” Bruce says, but his heart is still racing. Matt has to tread carefully if he wants to make sure that he keeps talking to Bruce and not the Hulk.

“Yeah, you are,” Matt says. “If you really don’t want me around, I’ll leave. But if you want the company…” He shrugs. “You don’t have to talk about anything, we can just hang out if you don’t want to be alone.”

Bruce is silent for a long minute and his heart doesn’t slow down. Matt is seriously starting to think that he overstepped here when Bruce finally says, “The others… They’ve never said anything… Do they know, what you know?”

“I don’t even know what I know,” Matt confesses. “Except that you sound dangerously close to a panic attack right now. Are you okay, Banner?”

“My control is fine,” Bruce says.

Matt thinks his heart breaks a little at that, and he hates that only a few minutes earlier he had been wondering about Bruce’s control himself. He hates when people make assumptions about him because of his blindness, and he hates that he did the essentially the same thing with banner.

“That’s not what I asked,” Matt says gently. “Are you okay?”

Another long pause from Bruce. “I don’t know,” he admits, with a slightly strangled laugh. “No one has ever figured out…”

Matt exhales slowly, wondering how he got into this position and also knowing that there’s no way he can back out now. “Yeah, sorry about that,” he says, and he means it. “It’s creepy, I know.”

+1 Everyone Else
“So Cap, when do I get to meet this Daredevil guy?” Sam asks one evening.

“Never,” Steve says firmly. “Absolutely never.”

“Wait, who is Daredevil?” Wanda asks, curious. “You have not mentioned him before, I believe.”

“That’s because we don’t work with him, if we can help it,” Natasha explains as she wanders into the living room and sprawls out on the couch. “I don’t want to know how you found out about him, Sam.”

“Stark was talking about him,” Sam says. “Something about almost missing the human lie detector, whatever that means.”

“You can’t lie around Daredevil, because he always knows when you aren’t telling the truth,” Steve explains. “I think he’s caught all of us in a lie, more than once.”

“And he knows things about you even before you say anything,” Natasha adds. “Like that time he knew you had been on a date.”

“Or when he knew Barton had hearing implants before any of us told him. I thought Clint was going to have a heart attack after that happened,” Steve remembers. “I think Thor was the only one who was amused by it all?”

“What did he do to Thor?” Vision asks, finally joining the conversation.

“Bothered him about everything he ate and drank for the last 48 hours,” Natasha says. “Thor thought it was the best trick he’s ever seen. But you’re wrong, Steve, he was always nice to Bruce. Always knew what he needed before we did, anyway.”

“So why do you not work with him?” Wanda asks. “If he can always tell when people are lying, would that not be helpful to have on missions?”

“Yeah, sure,” Steve agrees. “Until he calls you out in front of the rest of the team on every innocent lie you ever tell…”

“Or tells everyone who the last person you slept with was,” Natasha adds.

“Or shares any number of personal facts that you don’t need everyone to know about.”

“You think you want to be honest with your teammates, but it’s a lot less fun when someone else is exposing all your lies for you,” Natasha explains. “It’s downright creepy, is what it is. You start getting paranoid, wondering what all he can tell about you that he isn’t saying- and why he isn’t saying anything, when he goes and runs his mouth about everything else.”

“So what do we do if we ever run into him?” Sam asks.

“Don’t lie,” Natasha says immediately.

“And don’t invite him back to the Tower,” Steve adds. “He’s an ally, and he’ll always have your back if you need him. But the less time you spend around him, the better. Just trust us on this.”

Oh my goodness! I didn't expect a fill, thank you so much!

I loved this. The scenes with each avenger are great and I loved how they all basically agreed to keep the new Avengers away from him. Poor Matt, he just does what is natural to him but at the same time it's clear he's not ashamed of it, which is awesome. It's part of his abilities....it just creeps the others out.

Thank you for the fill! i loved it. Poor Tony. He's so lost as to how to interact positively with his cousin. i love Foggy's reaction to like an offended cat he's sticking with his course. :)

This was nothing short of brilliance! I love it!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4415804
^ Possibly relevant to your interests?

Oh Matt I love you. Jealous when they are attracted, offended when they are not. <33

Foggy says that the law is there to bring arbitrary order to an otherwise yawning abyss of pointless, frenetic undulations in the dark of space that humans call existence.

"Not laws, specifically. Some laws are really practical and make perfect sense. Nobody wants to spend years arguing over whether a car is parallel parked correctly. Laws save a lot of time. But the concept of Law itself, that it can be called the law--it's there to keep human brains contained within safe confines, so they don't go oozing and spilling out into the great beyond with nothing to hang onto. To trust that anything like an objective law can exist at all, even if we might not have perfected our interpretation of it yet, to think of it as a goal we can strive towards--that keeps humans sane."

"Oh wow, you're such an idealist," Matt says sarcastically, wide grin on his face to take the sting out of his quip. He's only known Foggy for a few months, but he loves it when he gets drunk and goes on dreamy philosophical rants, saying "humans" like he isn't one.

Years later, when they've opened their own law firm and taken on endless clients pro bono, he wants to ask if Foggy remembers what he said about The Law, once.

Sometimes, for no reason that Matt can sense at all, clients' heart rates will pick up when they meet Foggy for the first time. It's not the usual uptick of sexual interest. It's something Matt can't quite put his finger on, and it goes away once they get down to business and start talking.

Sometimes, for no reason that Matt can figure out at all, he gets a creeping sensation on the back of his neck when he's near Foggy, like all the fine hairs are instinctively standing up to try to get away.

Foggy has this way of getting information out of people, sometimes, when the moon is right or the stars align or something. Maybe it's in the way he looks on certain days. Matt can never predict when it'll be one of the good days--as far as he can tell Foggy never does anything different, so maybe it's something visual, subtle. On certain days, Foggy has this way of causing people to babble, just a stream of consciousness pouring out of them like they can't help themselves. They get a lot of confessions this way.

Foggy is also very, very good in court.

Matt tells him this, like he doesn't know, on a night when they're celebrating a decision that went their way. Greasy takeout and cold beers sweating in the New York heat of Foggy's fire-escape-cum-balcony. Matt's hand is on the base of Foggy's neck, his fingers brushing through hair--the narrow balcony is a little rickety and it's his excuse to touch, because he wouldn't want to fall or not know exactly where Foggy is at all times.

Foggy smiles and says thank you, and then he hums thoughtfully and says, "I think it's because I understand how it all works now."

"What, charming the jury?"

"Just...The Law. You know, human laws."

He's doing that thing again that he used to do in college, and it makes Matt want very badly to kiss him, so he does.

Once, just once, after everything, after the whole truth about the man in the red mask had come out, just once does Matt wake up to a strange presence in his bed.

He's in a muffled haze of pain from the painkillers blocking out the fresh breaks and sprains that he will eventually have to face, half asleep and a quarter passed out, woozy and dizzy and wishing for absolution. He reaches out for Foggy because Foggy is the closest thing to a sacrament outside of church.

For just a second, less than that, or maybe for an eternity, longer than an infinite eternity, he finds something incomprehensible instead of his best friend. Too many eyes and too many teeth and too many tentacles where tongues should be. He's falling, there is no gravity and the earth has no centre, and then he's back in his bed again, blind and uncomfortably sore but being lovingly held by Foggy, who shushes him in a voice that he doesn't recognize and tells him to go back to sleep.

Eventually, the papers have to come up with a name for him:

Daredevil.

To differentiate the man in the mask from The Devil of Hell's Kitchen, which is what witnesses call the thing that follows him around.

-end

(I've also put it on AO3 on a sock account here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/4532649 Just in case anyone prefers it on that platform.)

don't ask me how the holograms in this part work. just assume that somehow, with some help from other scientists, Tony managed to figure out how to make solid hologram-style projections.

--

Foggy puts that disastrous first meeting out of his mind, for the most part.

All right, he bitches about it to Karen and Matt first on their next night out as a law firm, but that doesn't count, and afterwards he puts it out of his mind.

Then one day he walks into the office to see--

"Are those holograms?" he asks. Because--Because there's a little phone on the desk, and it's somehow projecting what Foggy is pretty sure is a three-dimensional picture of, of all things, Angry Birds.

Which Matt is--playing.

"Matt," says Foggy, "the hell?"

"Delivery boy came by," Matt explains, fingers feeling out the pigs' tower. And he is feeling it out, somehow, and Foggy figures it's some kind of--solid hologram thing. He's not too sure about that, but he does know that the next time he sees Tony Stark he will kick his ass. "Sales pitch is inside the conference room, Karen's watching it. It sounds tempting."

--

It does.

It really, really does.

Or it would be if Foggy doesn't know what all this is for, and oh, Tony Stark, you shit.

--

Matt does not keep the StarkPhone.

"It was fun," he explains, "but it was bugged."

"Well, it is in beta-testing--"

"No, Foggy," says Matt, with a sigh, "I meant it was bugged. I'm not about to give Stark an easy in to our offices, no matter how advanced the package is."

"Oh, thank god," Foggy says, breathing a sigh of relief. At least Matt still has some sense, and maybe if they send the phone back Tony will get the hint and leave them alone.

--

"Gotta delivery for Mr. Franklin Nelson?" the delivery boy calls, and Foggy looks up just in time to see the guy hauling in a sleek, plastic-wrapped copier, and nearly drops the empanada he'd been enjoying up until now.

"Oh my god," Karen whispers. "Is that a copier?"

"Dunno," says the delivery guy, "I guess? S'more in the corridor outside." He parks the copier by the wall, and sticks his head back out to shout, "Hey, Terry, get the coffeemaker in here!"

Another delivery guy--Terry, presumably, with the dreadlocks--pushes his way inside, carrying the most complicated-looking coffeemaker that Foggy has ever seen.

"Holy shit," says Karen, clapping her hands with unholy glee, and oh, boy, if the sales pitch hadn't taken her in then no doubt the coffeemaker has sold her on this now. "Foggy--Foggy, you need to keep playing hard to get. Maybe we're gonna get an air-conditioner next time!"

haha, I'm so glad you picked up on that, I have a secret headcanon that Foggy is an ASOIAF fan and so bitter over the show. Matt has numbered his rants. for example: rant #354 is what Matt calls the "THEY CUT LADY STONEHEART" rant.

Tony deeply underestimates just how Foggy will not be moved from his position. forklifts are not strong enough. he needs an industrial crane. (by which we mean: he needs to talk with the guy and not bribe him or his friends. Tony, honey, you are such a disaster.)

maybe try actually talking instead of, like. bribery.

aww, you're welcome! Tony, you are such a human disaster.

(I feel like I should warn you that I've never attempted suicide, but I have based parts of this on my own experiences with depression. I also know that comics!Matt occasionally struggles with depression, but for the purposes of this prompt I've ignored any mental health issues that Matt might have. Maybe he's ignoring them for Foggy's sake, maybe he's just not comfortable talking about them, I don't know. If I turn this into a longer thing, I might add that in but as this stands now Matt's mental health isn't discussed. Only Foggy's as per the prompt.)

Foggy never forgets that the scar is there, not really. He sees it when he gets dressed in the morning, feels it when he scratches an itch on his forearm. Sometimes he gets a glimpse of it out of the corner of his eye, the edge it peeking out from where his shirt sleeve has gotten pushed up a little, and he’ll jolt slightly because for the briefest moment he’s actually surprised by the sight of it on his body.

Just a brief moment, though, before he remembers what it is. Why it’s there.

(He will forever be grateful that the worst of his scars, the long lines of parallel white stripes that came before the one on his wrist, are located on his thighs. He sees those less often, thinks about them less often, only really has to worry when he tumbles into bed with a new partner but most of the time by that point they’ve seen the one on his wrist and it’s a non-issue. But only most of the time.)

By the time he gets to law school he’s comfortable wearing t-shirts in public again. He’s still on anti-depressants but this current dose is doing him a world of good, and he still has a therapist back in his old neighborhood that he can call whenever he feels the need to talk to someone about his problems one-on-one. Some days he still struggles with talking to anyone, but he’s getting better about reaching out when he needs help. Some days, he still struggles with finding the motivation to do what should be basic tasks, but those days are getting fewer and further apart as well.

Maybe that’s why he doesn’t think about whether Matt knows about the scar or not. It’s a part of his life, one that people either accept once they realize what it is or they don’t, and the ones who don’t still bother him but it hurts less than it used to. Matt never says anything about it, so whenever Foggy thinks about it (not often, and usually late at night when he’s trying to sleep) he just assumes that Matt is okay with it.

He doesn’t think about how whenever he guides Matt it’s always Matt’s hand on his right arm, not his left. He doesn’t think about how when they touch it’s on the back or the shoulders or the head, or increasingly common hugs where the only thing his scar brushes against is the fabric of Matt’s shirts. He’s so used to people just seeing it that he forgets that it’s impossible for Matt to glance down and know that it’s there.

They’re sitting in class, when it happens. Matt on his left side for once because someone had taken the seat on Foggy’s right today, and Matt reaches out to gently touch his arm to get his attention about something. But his fingers brush against the scar, the raised edge of it that’s faded to white over the years but has never disappeared completely (will probably never disappear completely) and he tenses, fingers tracing along the length of it until Foggy, suddenly uncomfortable, pulls his arm away slightly.

Matt jerks his fingers back like they’ve been burned and sits ramrod-straight for the rest of the lecture, maintaining a careful distance between himself and Foggy.

And Foggy has heard almost every comment imaginable, from the stupid thoughtless ones to the downright nasty ones that are supposed to hurt, but somehow Matt pulling away from him is worse than anything else.

When the lecture ends Foggy wants to just bolt, disappear somewhere on campus where he doesn’t have to face Matt and the judgement that he knows is going to come, but Matt stops him with a gentle hand on his arm.

His left arm. That has to be intentional.

“I’m sorry,” Matt says quietly, as their classmates gather their bags and shuffle out of the lecture hall. “I- I didn’t know that you… I was surprised, that’s all.”

“If you’re going to be a dick about this…” Foggy starts, but he doesn’t finish the sentence because he doesn’t know what he’d do if Matt turned into a judgmental prick over this. He swore to himself years ago that he wouldn’t keep people in his life who couldn’t accept him with all his flaws, but cutting Matt out seems like an impossible task to him.

It ends up being a moot point because Matt says, “I’m not going to be a dick, Foggy,” and very deliberately rests his right hand on Foggy’s left, the tips of his fingers just brushing over the scar and this time he doesn’t flinch at all.

“Aren’t you going to ask me questions about it?” Foggy asks as they make their way back to their dorm. “I mean, most people want to know why I did it.”

Matt shrugs. “I don’t want to pry.”

That’s such a Matt answer to give that Foggy almost wants to laugh. He probably would have, if they had been having any other conversation, but instead he says, “But you are curious.”

“Of course I am,” Matt says. “But if you don’t want to tell me-”

“I don’t,” Foggy says. “Well… I do. But I don’t want… People start treating me differently, sometimes. I thought you knew already and just weren’t saying anything because you didn’t care, and if I tell you and you start treating me differently…”

“I won’t,” Matt says, but Foggy shakes his head.

“You don’t know that,” Foggy says. “I’m on anti-depressants. I have a therapist back home that I see over breaks. Things are okay now, but there are some weeks where I barely eat and sleep too much and don’t have the energy to leave my room and I know how hard it can be to live with someone who’s in that sort of place. Really it’s a minor miracle that you haven’t seen me at that point yet.”

“So you’re managing this,” Matt says easily. “That doesn’t change anything between us, and if you have a bad week that won’t change anything either.”

“Even if it’s more than a week?” Foggy asks cautiously. He hopes he never ends up in that place again, where he loses himself to his depression for months at a time, but it could always happen. If Matt’s going to stick around… If Nelson & Murdock is going to be a thing, he has to know what he’s in for. He has to get past this initial oblivious optimism, but that might be a longer conversation for another day.

“Even then,” Matt says firmly. He pauses and then, more hesitantly, asks, “Are you… hurting yourself? Now, I mean?”

Foggy shakes his head. “That was the most emphatic head shake I’ve ever done,” Foggy says. “I’m not cutting, I haven’t in years.”

“But you did,” Matt says. “In the past.”

“Thought that was implied with the scar running down my forearm,” Foggy says dryly.

Matt flushes slightly with embarrassment. “Sorry. I’ve just never noticed any scars on your arm. Until today, that is.”

“They’re on my thighs,” Foggy explains. “But I thought cutting my forearm would be easier when I…” He doesn’t want to actually say when I tried to kill myself, doesn’t want to explain down the road, not across the street, doesn’t want to try to find the words to explain what it was like seeing the blood pouring out of his vein and hearing his mom scream and still almost being angry at the time that he didn’t succeed.

He clears his throat awkwardly and says, “Anyway, that’s why there’s only the one on my arm. My mom found me before I did the other arm and I got help.” Slowly, painfully, he got help. He dragged his feet, he fought against it for longer than he should have, but he got help.

Foggy braces himself for an inane comment from Matt, a well-meaning “And now you’re better” or “Well, it’s all in the past” or any number of things that he’s heard before.

But Matt, once again, manages to surprise him. “I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me this,” he says sincerely. “If I ever do anything or say anything that I shouldn’t…”

“I’ll let you know,” Foggy finishes for him.

“And you’ll tell me if you need… anything?” Matt adds, more hesitantly. “I mean, you said you had a therapist but if there’s ever anything I can do…”

This is verging too close on uncomfortable territory, on pity and a prelude to Matt treating him like glass, and Foggy quickly says, “Just don’t treat me differently, I mean it, Matt. No matter what happens, don’t treat me differently.”

It’s a stupid request to make, because Foggy knows that he is different. That just because things are good now doesn’t mean they’ll always be good, and when they get bad he’s going to need Matt to help him. To treat him differently, even, because his mental illness will do its best to stop him from functioning like everyone else. And he hates that, but that’s not a weakness in himself. Even if, after all these years, he still struggles to accept that fact as truth.

But Matt doesn’t mention any of that. Matt probably wouldn’t even think of any of that, not like Foggy would. Another difference between them, one that Foggy never thought about before and he hates that he’s thinking about now. “I won’t,” Matt promises him. “This changes nothing, Foggy. I mean that.”

His fingers brush against the scar on Foggy’s arm again, gentle and soft, and Foggy prays that down the road his depression won’t make liars out of them both.

OH MY GOD JUST KISS YOU DORKS

This is such a great fill a!anon, you should give yourself a huge pat on the back for it.

I still love everything about this

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 164 of 186

Prompt Post #5

Re: Matt gets deaged back to when he first gained his powers

FILL: Claire/Sam Wilson, non-explicit preferred

Re: Donde los Ángeles no duermen/ Where the Angels don't sleep MattFoggy

Re: Fill: or remain unsaved

Re: Fill: 2/? Foggy has a run in with an alternative version of Daredevil

Re: Fill: or remain unsaved

FILL What All This Time Was For (6/?)

Re: Fill: 2/? Foggy has a run in with an alternative version of Daredevil

Re: FILL What All This Time Was For (6/?)

Re: [FILL] Beautiful, Dirty, Rich (4/?)

[FILL 1/2]: Daredevil creeps the Avengers out

[FILL 2/2]: Daredevil creeps the Avengers out

Re: [FILL 2/2]: Daredevil creeps the Avengers out

Re: minifill: how to make friends with your long-lost cousin, a guide by anthony stark

Re: [FILL 2/2]: Daredevil creeps the Avengers out

Re: Matt/Frank - Pacific Rim AU

Re: FILL What All This Time Was For (6/?)

(short) Fill: Foggy is a lovecraftian monster

minifill 2: wooing your cousin by wooing his best friends, a guide by anthony stark

Re: minifill: how to make friends with your long-lost cousin, a guide by anthony stark

Re: minifill: how to make friends with your long-lost cousin, a guide by anthony stark

Re: minifill: how to make friends with your long-lost cousin, a guide by anthony stark

FILL: Scars (tw past suicide attempt/self harm)

Re: FILL What All This Time Was For (6/?)

Re: FILL What All This Time Was For (6/?)