daredevilkink | Daredevil Prompt Post #11

Entry tags:

prompt post

Daredevil Prompt Post #11

THIS POST IS CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS.
HEAD OVER TO PROMPT POST #12.

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.

Mod Post | Discussion/Off-Topic Post | Writing Challenges
AO3 Collection | Searchable Prompts on Delicious | Fills: Completed & WIPs
Previous Rounds: #1 | #2 | #3 | #4 | #5 | #6 | #7 | #8 | #9 | #10
Other Prompt Posts: Marvel Comics | Jessica Jones | Luke Cage

Any prompts related to Luke Cage, even if they focus on Daredevil characters, must go on the Luke Cage Prompt Post until 31st October.

Rules:
General
YKINMKATO. Play nice. Respect others. 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.

Prompts focusing on characters from Jessica Jones should go on the Jessica Jones Prompt Post, but crossovers with Daredevil can go on either post.

Prompts that are exclusively about the comics should go on the Comics Prompt 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 - e.g. prompts from post #2 cannot be reposted until post #4. Please include a link to where it has been previously posted.

Fills
When posting a fill, either add [FILL] (or something similar) to the subject line, or change the subject line to the title of your 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 and vids are all welcome.

Page 130 of 165

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Maybe Matt's scary good at bow hunting. Lol (He may not be able to see a sationary paper target, but he can sense a living one.)

Maybe since "doppelganger" Matt isn't a vigilante, they become friends and actually hang out after work. Karen and Marci see the resemblance and think, well, he certainly has a type... They're also worried for him.

Maybe "doppelganger"/deep cover Matt finds out about Foggy's missing friend who "looks just like him" and is a little weirded out... That is, until he sees a picture of the guy - then he wants to know what the connection is - why they're practically identical.

(so ok i'm imagining this somewhere during s1 after matt tells claire his name n they smooch but before claire is like na abt it,, it doesn't really work w/ canon but shh

also this is less shippy and more angsty but it's there if u squint)

Matt stirred while Claire was spreading jam on her toast, and she watched him carefully. He groaned quietly, resurfacing from the pain free haze the meds created.

It took a few minutes for him to fully come out of it, and he'd maneuvered himself into a sitting position as Claire thoughtfully chewed her breakfast. What he'd said while sleepwalking still hung heavy in her mind, but she'd elected not to mention it unless he did. He hadn't brought up anything about his dad otherwise, and she decided he was allowed to keep it to himself if that's what he wanted.

"Morning sunshine," she called, announcing herself. "How're those ribs?"

Matt huffed a laugh, wincing. "As expected."

"Hm," Claire hummed around a mouthful of toast. She watched him take stock of his injuries, careful as he touched the bandages around his chest and felt the bruises on the left half of his face. His right calf had a laceration about six inches long, diagonally across the muscle, but she had a feeling he didn't need to touch that one to know how bad it was.

He heaved himself off of the couch, and Claire let him. She knew he was going to take off whether she protested or not, so she watched him stand with a heavy sigh.

"Careful of your stitches," she said, almost as an afterthought.

"Yeah." He gingerly made his way to the window and crawled out onto the fire escape, heaving himself over the railing. He fell out of sight, and Claire marveled at his strength. Not just physically - which was something else entirely - but emotionally. She wondered how much she didn't know about him, how much he would never tell her. She went back to her breakfast, not allowing herself to look forward to the next time she'd see him. After all, he only ever showed up half dead. She pushed down the nagging voice at the back of her thoughts - "What are you gonna do when he shows up too badly hurt for you to save? What happens then?"

She took a long, steady breath, and got up to close the window.

filler here i'm glad you liked it!! i'm always a sucker for matt being self destructive >:^)

(i ain't never written porn before jesus take the wheel)

Foggy led Matt out onto the street, pulling him in the direction of their dorm. Matt knew he should thank Foggy, keep his story going, but he didn't have the energy. He felt tired and disappointed in a strange way, so he just let Foggy pull him along in silence. Foggy must have noticed something was off, because when he started talking it had the cadence of an apology.

"I hope it was okay that I, uh, pretend claimed you back there."

Matt snorted, still feeling a little drunk. "Yeah, 'course it was." He forced a smile. "Thanks, man."

"Yeah, no problem." Foggy seemed relieved. "I just," he paused, "I can't stand to see you get hurt, yanno?"

Matt...felt a little warm, which was unexpected. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He wouldn't ruin his and Foggy's friendly dynamic with his neediness. It wasn't fair to Foggy to offer himself like he did to that girl at the party, like he did so many other nights to other strangers. And Foggy didn't want him like that, anyway, so it didn't matter.

Foggy's thumb brushed absent circles in Matt's bicep on the walk home, and Matt found himself relaxing into the touch. He hadn't been paying all that much attention to where they were walking, letting Foggy lead him, and when they reached their dorm he felt a little gypped, wishing they could keep going a little longer, wishing he could feel safe like this for a little longer.

When they'd made their way up the stairs and through the hallway to their dorm, Matt wanted nothing else but to go immediately to sleep. Foggy unlocked the door and he went to his dresser, shrugging out of his sweaty t-shirt and jeans and throwing on sweatpants, not bothering to put on a shirt. Without saying a word, he went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and fell into bed, facing the wall.

He knew Foggy was looking at him, knew he wanted to say something, but wasn't. He let it hang there, the tension of not speaking, until Foggy finally broke it.

"Hey, are you sure you're alright dude?" Foggy asked, clearing his throat.

Matt considered telling him that no, he felt empty and relieved and frustrated all at once, abandonment issues bubbling dangerously close to the surface. Maybe it was the beer or maybe he'd reached his limit on lying to Foggy, but when he spoke he was vaguely surprised he was even saying this much. "I'm... I dunno, honestly."

He sensed Foggy frown, worried. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Matt paused. "Not really," he said honestly. "I wouldn't know where to start. I just--I need validation, I guess, if that makes any sense." He couldn't explain why he was saying it, but the more he talked the easier it was to just let the words fall out. "I keep looking for people who--like that girl, I guess--who make me feel less alone. Never really helps the way I want it to."

Foggy was quiet for a moment, then, "Let me help."

Matt's heart beat faster. "What do you mean?" he asked, already knowing the answer. He concentrated on Foggy--his heartbeat was even, sure. Matt swallowed.

In lieu of a response, Foggy stood, and Matt pushed himself up to sit leaning against his headboard. Foggy crossed the room to stand above Matt, then reached a hand out to tilt Matt's chin up, kissing him softly.

"Let me take care of you," Foggy said quietly against his lips, and Matt swore his heart skipped.

He nodded. "Okay." His mouth was dry as Foggy moved onto the bed to straddle his hips, kissing him more intently. Foggy's hands were in his hair, gripping the back of his neck, sliding over his chest. Matt couldn't help but gasp, Foggy taking the opportunity to slide his tongue into Matt's open mouth.

Soon Matt was panting, Foggy's mouth sliding off of his and onto his neck, sucking a mark over his pulse point.

"Foggy," Matt gasped, uncertain.

"Shh, Matty, you're all mine right now, okay?" And Matt nodded, sucking in a sharp breath as Foggy bit down on the bruise he just made. "You're gonna be real good for me, aren't you?"

"Y-yes," Matt stammered, swearing that he saw stars when Foggy palmed at his dick where it strained against his sweatpants.

"Good boy," Foggy murmured, and Matt shuddered. He felt cornered, crowded against his own mattress, but somehow this was...comforting. He was trapped in the best way. Foggy prodded at Matt's lower lip with two fingers, and Matt took the hint, sucking both of them in down to the knuckle. Foggy groaned, fucking Matt's mouth with his fingers. Matt couldn't help but whine in the back of his throat, feeling the drag of Foggy over his tongue.

Then, abruptly, Foggy pulled them out. He tried to voice his distress at the loss, but found himself letting out a long, broken moan instead when Foggy's spit slick fingers dipped beneath his waistband and closed around his cock.

"Fuck, Foggy," Matt whined, feeling close already. It was all too much, Foggy's hot breath on his neck, then biting down on his collarbone, pushing him back against his headboard and his warm, slick hand in his pants.

Foggy shushed him again, moving his hand faster. He kissed Matt, all teeth and possession, and Matt came shuddering apart under Foggy, a litany of "fuck, please, Foggy, I can't--" coming out of his mouth.

"Come for me Matt," Foggy ordered, his free hand twisted in Matt's hair. And Matt did, crying out as loud as he dared in the quiet of their dorm, clinging to Foggy like a lifeline.

Hours later, when the noises from the courtyard outside woke Matt up, he found himself still tangled in his own bed with Foggy, whose breathing was slow and even, his expression serene as he slept. He twined his fingers with Foggy's, deciding he could sleep a little longer.

Bruce Wayne moves to Gotham (New York) for a while. He starts his vigilante antics there again. The local vigilantes are not pleased with it.

Bruce is especially annoyed by the Daredevil who seems determined to have him arrested when he's friends with the freaking Punisher and apparently exes with some ninja.

Only Matt isn't on him for his vigilante antics. No. Matt wants him arrested because he keeps murdering people.

Gosh, this is so adorable, anon. <3

Awwww <3

YASSSSSSSSS

This Prompt Inspired this fic:

Rag and Bone Sympathy, Part 1: http://archiveofourown.org/chapters/17770477#work_endnotes

Part 1: http://archiveofourown.org/chapters/17770477#work_endnotes

There, did it right this time.

I'm enjoying this! Bring on the boners! :D

Ohhhhhh <33 OP loves you and this! <333 Such a gorgeous, quiet, angsty, and true mood you created here... I love it. Feels so right for them. Thank you for writing this!

*

He’s woken up by the sound of a talking alarm clock--Five-Fifty-Nine, a.m. it says, and someone comes over to shut it off. The bed is oddly familiar in its unfamiliarity, the way it feels, the way it smells. He knows it’s his bed even though he’s never been in it before. It takes him a moment to remember where and when he is.

“Morning,” Other Matt says, as he shuffles around the bedroom, and Matt groans in response. “Sorry, early start.” Once he’s finished dressing, he tosses something at Matt; it’s a phone. Other Matt clears his throat, like he’s slightly embarrassed. “It’s a… a spare. It has Claire’s number, and I had Foggy put mine in last night. In case you need anything.”

“Okay,” he mutters, because he’s honestly a little annoyed he’s still here.

After his present self’s left for the day, Matt uses the opportunity to grab a quick shower and a shave, and after he’s refreshed, he takes some time to feel out his living space a bit more. It’s odd being back here again, knowing it’s his place, knowing it won’t really be his for several more years. It’s spacious and open and he likes it a lot. Of course he does, he picks it out.

He follows the stairs up to the roof, and listens as the city wakes up and starts its day. (Honking car horns, and tires screeching, and “hey, watch where you’re going!” and burning fryer oil from various food carts, and church bells, and morning talk shows, and police radios, and, and, and…)

He plops himself down onto the hard surface of the rooftop, because existing in the wrong time always leaves him feeling unmoored. “Unstuck in time,” he calls it, even though he hasn’t actually read Vonnegut for himself. Sitting down in a loose lotus pose up on his future rooftop while he should be in class working toward that very same future leaves him feeling a bit like he’s a snake eating its own tail; like he’s trapped in a closed loop. But he doesn’t have to stay trapped. Not really. If he wanted to, he could break the loop right now; hop on the subway back the college campus-- it’s not actually all that far from where he’s currently sitting--and be back to where he’s supposed to be. But he’s separated by time, not distance, and while spatial subway lines are of course a real thing, temporal ones definitely are not. Maybe someone should invent that. (Or maybe not. Causality’s fucked up enough as it is.)

He breathes, lets his palms rest loose and open on his knees, and just breathes as he lets the warm morning sun wash over him. He stays there for some indeterminate amount of time, until the spare phone his present-self had loaned him starts ringing. He shakes himself a little until he’s more present in the moment. He’d said either he or Claire has this number, so he’s a little surprised when it’s Foggy voice that greets him on the other end.

“Hey. Just wanted to check in on ya. See how you’re holding up.” On the other end of the line, there are car horns, the hiss of air brakes from a nearby city bus, the crush of people on the crowded street, and Foggy just slightly out of breath from keeping up with it all.

“I’m fine,” Matt says, “if a little bored.” And frustrated. There isn’t anywhere to go, or anything to do, and he’s not sure how much more of this hanging in limbo he’s in store for. The present version of himself mentioned that he sometimes heads over to Fogwell’s after hours to work out his frustrations over a punching bag, and if Matt’s still dangling here, then he might do just that.

“Talk about time travel,” Matt says. “I haven’t been there since I was a kid.”

Foggy makes some kind of unhappy noise. Then he says, “I was kinda hoping I could convince you to come out for drinks tonight. Matt said—I mean, you… from now, in the present—said you would be, so. How ‘bout it. Just you and me.”

Matt presses his lips together in a hard line. He thinks back to a lonely and desperate Foggy, the one that missed Matt so much it made both their hearts ache. He bites back the impulse to apologize; instead, as warmly as possible, he says, “yeah. Sounds good.”

After he’s decided he’d had enough baking in the sun, he heads back downstairs, and ends up puttering around the apartment for a few hours. Makes himself something to eat, fishes out a beer from the fridge, and finds classical music streaming on his laptop. After lunch, he pokes around some more until he comes across… the devil suit, and Matt’s not sure how he feels about it. It’s an oddly disconcerting feeling, like flipping through the pages of his own dark subconscious. He stores the thing in the same trunk that houses all his dad’s old boxing paraphernalia for God’s sake, and that just draws all kinds of uncomfortable parallels between their lives, and Matt never wanted that for himself. And neither did his dad. In fact, carrying the weight of his father’s wish for a better life for his son is the whole reason Matt’s even in school. His gut twists a little, because honestly, he cannot fathom how he gets there from here.

When the phone in his pocket rings, it startles him badly enough that he slams the trunk closed and jerks away from it in guiltily. He shoves it back in the closet underneath all his neatly pressed suits, and he has to take a few deep breaths just to keep the note of anxiety from taking over his voice when he finally answers the phone.

“Hello?” he says, and he’s pretty sure his voice doesn’t give anything away, which is a plus as far as he’s concerned.

“Hey,” Claire says. She sounds casual and relaxed, which helps steady him. He breathes out. “How you holding up.” The question of the day, it seems. She sounds fond, and long-suffering, and he’s grateful there’s a Claire in his life.

“Yeah, well. Wish I could say the same,” she says, keeping that same fond tone to her voice. He thinks about asking her to come out with them tonight, with him and Foggy, but the words stay lodged in his throat. Instead he says, “I hope I get to talk to you again. Before I catch up to you in the present, I mean.”

She hums thoughtfully. “You’d know better than I would.”

“Not always,” he says, laughing a little, because he was born and raised in the state of Out of Context, and any advantages he might have from living a non-linear existence tend to get negated by the disadvantages that come along with it. “I appreciate you checking in on me,” he says after a beat, and there’s an acute sense of loss after she’s told him “anytime,” and, “bye, Matt,” and disconnects the line. And he sits, just holding the phone in his hands for a long moment before shoving back in his pocket.

*

Later that night Matt’s waiting for Foggy outside a dive bar, hiding behind his glasses and gripping his cane. The present version of himself isn’t in need of them; he has other things to worry about, apparently. Gangs, or drugs, or something. Matt wasn’t especially interested in hearing the details.

“Well, well,” Foggy says as he strolls up to where Matt’s standing. “If it isn’t the Kitchen’s own Clark Kent.” He moves like he’s going in for a hug, but he changes tack at the last possible second and claps Matt on the shoulder instead. Matt pointedly raises his eyebrows at Foggy, but doesn’t call him on it.

Instead he says, “I’m Superman now?”

“I’m just saying,” Foggy drawls from out of the side of his mouth. “Have you ever seen Clark Kent and Superman in the same room before? Because I sure haven’t.”

“Can’t say I have,” Matt deadpans, and he grabs Foggy’s elbow as they head inside.

“You’re hilarious.”
“I try.”

Once they’ve settled into the last two available seats at the far end of the bar, Foggy wastes no time in reaching behind the counter and helping himself to a pair of glasses and a bottle of liquor... of some kind.

“You boys just go ahead and make yourselves at home,” a woman from behind the bar grumbles sarcastically.

“Josie loves us.”

“Clearly,” Matt says. He hopes to endear her with his most charming smile, but the only reward he gets for his efforts is a huff of disapproval before she vanishes off somewhere. He smiles wider and relaxes more into his seat.

Then after that, it’s all easy banter between them. Even if they both know there’s a heavy cloud of The Unspoken hanging over them. Mostly, though, it’s a just a matter of mismatched life experiences. Matt desperately wants to talk about That Night and all its numerous implications, but he can’t even begin to broach that topic, because for Foggy, that night hasn’t happened yet. Won’t happen for another year, year and a half, maybe. And as for Foggy, there’s an entire lifetime’s worth of experiences and in-jokes Matt doesn’t yet have context for. So they drink, and laugh, and give each other plenty of shit. Easy. In fact, it’s almost impressive how deftly Foggy dances around any potential landmines, so Matt’s more than willing to play along and laugh at all his bad jokes.

And then Foggy’s phone rings.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency.”

“Foggy?” The woman’s voice on the other end of the line cracks on Foggy’s name, and all his joviality drains away.

“Hey,” Foggy says, reassuringly. “It’s Karen,” Foggy whispers to Matt, then says to the woman, to Karen, “everything okay?”

“No, no, nothing’s wrong, just. Weird.” Matt raises his eyebrows at Foggy as she continues, “I mean, I know it’s late, but I wanted to come in and look over those papers again and--”

“Karen. It’ll all be there in the morning. You really should just--”

“Do not start with me, Franklin.”

“Franklin,” Matt mouths, and Foggy elbows him in the ribs for it. Matt offers him a wide shit-eating grin.

“Anyway. That’s not even why I’m calling. I mean, I thought you and Matt were out, so I didn’t expect anyone else in the office.” She takes a breath and says the rest all in a rush, “but when I came in, Matt slammed his door shut and now he won’t come out, so. And I don’t know what to do.”

Matt throws his head back and tries not to groan.

Foggy breathes out through his nose. “Well, shit,” he says. Matt taps Foggy on the arm to get his attention, and then tugs at his own shirtsleeve. “Yeah,” Foggy quietly agrees, and then says to Karen, “look. I know it might seem odd, but I’ve known Matt a long time, and he… he sometimes has these,” Foggy clears his throat, “episodes, and it can be a little weird if you don’t know about… I mean, it’s nothing bad, but I’ve been through this enough times with him, so I know how to handle it. So let me come in and handle it.” Foggy raises an index finger at him, a ‘wait a minute’ gesture, and Matt’s eyebrows are practically in his hairline.

“Episodes? You mean like depression?” She sounds skeptical but also concerned. Matt grimaces. There’s shuffling on the other end of the line—she’s moving around. A quick knock-knock on something solid and, “Matt? Come on out. Whatever’s going on with you, you know you can talk to me, or. Or you can wait for Foggy—that’s totally fine, but you don’t need to hide, not from me. Please.”

Other Matt’s voice drifts over the line. It’s too muffled for him to make out whatever's being said, and Matt’s face is very hot.

“Karen,” Foggy says. “I’m gonna hang up, okay? I’ll be there in few, but you don’t have to wait for me. I mean, you can if you want to, but you don’t have to. I got this.”

“I’m not going to just leave if he’s in there having some kind of depressive episode, Foggy.”

“I get that, that’s… Okay, hanging up now, okay? See ya in about ten,” and Foggy pockets his phone once the call is disconnected, and Matt rubs his face.

“Foggy to the rescue,” Matt mutters, as Foggy stands and shrugs into his coat.

“We really need to come up with a better plan than ‘deal with it as it happens,’” he says. Foggy fishes his wallet out from his pocket and flags down the bartender. She doesn’t say anything to them, just rings up their bill at the register and slaps the strip of paper down on the counter in front of them. Once they’re settled up, Foggy says, “maybe you’ll do your Houdini trick before we even get there.”

“You’re just assuming I’m going with you.”

“Yeah, I mean. Why not. Two birds and all that.”

“Two people in as many days? I don’t know, Foggy. And besides, I don’t even know her.”

“You haven’t met Karen yet,” Foggy says slowly. Matt can’t really blame him, though. It must take a lot of mental work to keep all the whens and wheres straight. “Before yesterday, you didn’t know Claire,” Foggy points out.

“That’s different. I didn’t have a choice.”

“You have a choice now,” Foggy says. “C’mon. No time like the present.”

“But it’s not the present,” Matt mutters, as he shrugs into his own jacket. He’s pretty sure that came out sounding whinier than he intended, so he says, “why you are so invested in this, anyway.”

“No reason,” Foggy says as he pulls open the door. Matt makes a face at him because Foggy wasn’t being honest just then.

“Fog.”

“No, just. I realized something. But you’re not there yet, so.”

It occurs to him that Foggy may have discovered how to exploit a temporal loophole when it comes to avoiding topics he doesn’t wish to discuss.

Outside, there’s a cool breeze and the air is saturated enough that it’ll probably rain. He holds onto Foggy’s elbow, and as they walk, Foggy fishes out his phone, and then Matt’s voice is instructing the caller to leave a message.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re not home. Ignore this.” Foggy disconnects the call with an annoyed huff. He tries another number, and as it rings he mutters to Matt, “I don’t actually expect him to pick up. Because why would he.”

Matt counts ten, eleven, twelve seconds before Foggy shoves the phone back in his pocket, and Matt has to pat down his hair after a fat raindrop falls on his head. And then another, and another. He tugs at Foggy’s arm and they pick up the pace.

The phone rings in Foggy’s pocket, and Foggy's heartbeat spikes.

The Matt on the other end wastes no time on pleasantries. “I’m only calling you back because you know better than to call this number. I don’t have a lot of time; make it quick.”

“Well, hello to you, too,” Foggy snaps.

“Foggy.”

“Matt.”

“Yeah. I’m hanging up now.”

“Matt. Matt, wait. Just. Do you remember traveling and locking yourself in your office?”

“Shit. That’s today isn’t it.”

“You don’t remember this stuff?”

“No, I do, but,” and Present Matt lowers his voice, “I don’t exactly have a way to keep track of where and when I am. I mean, it’s not like anyone’s keeping a journal or anything.”

“Well, maybe that’s not such a terrible idea. You can make out ink on paper, right?”

“Yeah, if I concentrate—Foggy, we can talk about this if you want, but now is really, really not a good time.”

“I suppose I can’t convince you to come to the office with me, then. Tell Karen while we’re at it?”

“Yeah, I remember. Two birds, one stone. Three birds at that rate, since I’m… you know. But Foggy. I can’t. Anyway. That’s not how it happened. You brought me clothes, and it was fine. It’ll be fine. You can handle it. But I have to go. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” Foggy says, but the line’s already disconnected. “I can’t actually afford to buy a new phone right now,” Foggy says to Matt, faux-casual. “Which is good because then I might be tempted into smashing up my phone until it’s fucking glitter. That’s how frustrated I am with you.”

Matt’s shirt is sticking to his skin now that it’s raining in earnest, his eyebrows are high up on his forehead as he imagines Foggy violently assaulting his cell phone with a baseball bat, and he knows that the cracks in their friendship started forming much sooner than he realized.

(this chapter went over the character limit. whoops.)

“But see, here’s thing,” he continues, “I told myself that it didn’t have to be all bad, because sometimes I still had my friend. See, he comes to visit every once in a while, and then it’s like someone hit a reset button. You know. Before it all went to shit.”

“Wait, so, you’re taking advantage of me? Is that what you’re saying?” Matt stumbles a little as they walk, but he recovers before Foggy notices. Matt presses his lips together, because Foggy’s found a loophole, all right.

“No! Well, Maybe? I don’t know, Matt I just--”

“—whoa,” Matt says, because his legs buckle from under him. Foggy’s quick to catch him, though, and they stumble toward the nearest alley.
“God, you’re burning up,” Foggy mutters, and Matt slips out of his reach and props himself up against a grimy brick wall, and starts disrobing as fast as possible. “What the hell are you doing! You can’t just--”

“The ground’s soaking wet, Foggy.” He hands Foggy his water-logged jacket, and then his shirt, which is still relatively dry. The socks are a loss as he pulls off his shoes, but at least Foggy will have a mostly complete outfit to take with him. Matt gets his pants off before he slips and falls and falls and falls.

*

Vladimir with the orange ring?

filler here i'm glad u enjoyed!!!

Spidey (or other young people) bring out the paternal side of Frank. Complete with overprotectiveness and making them eat a square meal and making lame puns.

Honestly I'm just picturing him swooping down from the trees on animals like they're criminals, since he'd know when they're relaxed and not alert to his presence, and wouldn't have a problem staying downwind of them.

Squeee!! OP here, I had a rough day and finding this cheered me up so much! I totally snorfled out loud at the gift certificate line -- just imagining Foggy following through with it and Matt having to show up to the store in full costume during business hours to (*ahem*) collect his meat. :D

This continues to be the most adorable thing! I love it!

SA

Orange is probably Owlsley.

Also I'd say Matt is definitely green because, although he uses fear against his enemies and he has some anger issues, he uses his will to keep both of those in check, making his power of will the most notable thing about him, IMO.

We've had Matt and Foggy find/ raise Peter to some degree. Let's have Frank get a turn.

Frank finds a little boy with powers. He doesn't mean to but he gets attached. He doesn't know if he can let go.

That's heartwarming. I love Dad!Frank.

Both are good that you suggested!

Probably so! It looks like it can swing either way!!! Green would be suitable for this.

Now who wants to write it? Haha. I want to but I feel like I need to read up more on Geoff John's Gl run to understand it more.

It's so tempting.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 130 of 165

Daredevil Prompt Post #11

Woodland Matt

Re: Shield offers to restore Daredevil's sight if he does a deep cover mission

Re: Fill: Sleepwalking Matt (Matt/Claire 2/2)

Re: Fill: D/s AU: Dom Foggy fake collars sub/switch Matt to protect him (1/?)

Fill: D/s AU: Dom Foggy fake collars sub/switch Matt to protect him (2/?)

Daredevil vs Batman (DCU Version)

Re: [FILL] Touch-Starved 2/?

Re: he's my best friend

Re: Claire forming the defenders aka her harem

Re: Self-Harm Matt, Angsty Matt/Foggy gen or slash

FILL- Rag and Bone Sympathy, Part 1/? Re: Self-Harm Matt, Angsty Matt/Foggy gen or slash

Re: [FILL] Touch-Starved 2/?

Re: Fill: Sleepwalking Matt (Matt/Claire 2/2)

Re: [Fill] Always Crashing in the Same Car 6/?

Re: [Fill] Always Crashing in the Same Car 6b/?

Re: Lantern Corps

Re: Fill: Sleepwalking Matt (Matt/Claire 2/2)

Frank's inner dad-ness

Re: Woodland Matt

Re: [FILL] Touch-Starved 2/?

Re: [FILL] Touch-Starved 2/?

Re: Lantern Corps

Frank finds orphaned Peter

Re: Frank finds orphaned Peter

Re: Lantern Corps