True heroes push kids down elevator shafts.

Daredevil #209 August 1984 David Mazzucchelli, Danny Bulanadi, and Arthur Byron Cover

@thexdevilsxsecretary

(via unspoken——words)

Character solidifying!

                                                                                 if you can’t stand the heat,                                                                                    stay out of hell’s kitchen.

This time, the two of them had a real chance. Things would be difficult, yes, but Frank’s words were still ringing in her ear. It was supposed to be messy, it was supposed to be difficult. And she would hold on to it. Would use both hands, just like he had told her. She was still struggling to fully process the fact that Matt, her Matt, was also the Devil of Hells Kitchen, but at least he was honest with her now. That was all she’d ever wanted, his honesty.

Her grin brightened when she heard him laugh. Her entire body responded to seeing him like that, smiling… happy. And she reached out to take the flowers from him. They were colorful, they smelled nice and they were undeniably really pretty- well, except for the fact that they were, indeed, crushed. Flowers, fragile little things. Maybe this was some strange symbol, a sign or something  but Karen still let her fingertips wander over the petals and smiled to herself.

„No! Oh god no they are really beautiful Matt I- I like them.“ 

Some water, some good care and maybe they would actually survive. Her gaze flickered up to his face again and she furrowed her brows. Was he nervous? 


She licked her lips slowly, trying to seem at least a little confident but her hands were so sweaty and she had a million things to say and at the same time, was absolutely at loss of words. You love him. Again, Frank’s words were in her head. Yeah, she did. She would maybe deny it if anybody asked her, but she did. Had before she knew who he was and still did now.


„Are you ready?“ A question not only directed at him. „You know, Matt… we could… we could have a glass of wine here. Before we go. I mean I- would you… we could do that.“

Matt knew she was probably just being polite but he didn’t question it, a soft smile finding his lips as she took them from him, their hands brushing slightly. Despite their somewhat wilted state, the flowers had made her laugh and that was all he cared about, the sound so soothing to him, shining through any residual doubts lingering in his mind. “Well, I’m glad you like them.”

He could tell she was nervous, could hear it in her voice, the way her fingers danced over the crushed petals, even more so than the last time they’d gone on a date. And he wanted to tell her that there was no need to be nervous, that nothing had changed, that he was still just Matt. But they both knew that wasn’t true. Everything had changed and there were still so many unanswered question troubling him. Could they trust each other after all they’d been through? What if she got hurt because of him? What if he got caught by the police and they found out she knew?

What if she decided she didn’t want him after all?

Just the idea of it made something sour settle in his chest, left a bad taste in his mouth and he pushed the thoughts aside, forcing himself to focus on the here and now. Those were questions for another time.

The suggestion took him by surprise, although it was not an unwelcome one, eyebrows raising slightly. He’d made plans, but nothing that couldn’t be rearranged and he was determined that tonight was going to be about her, whatever she wanted. And he was hardly opposed to the idea so he nodded, reaching out to place a warm hand on her arm, no hesitation in his answer.

“Sure, that sounds great.”

“I’m kind of insulted you think I can’t make a difference between fine and not fine - because you, sweetie, you’re so not fine. Know how I know? The mask might be nice nice, but I can see you pulling a face now. And also, the blood is a dead giveaway” Darcy huffed, not at all amused. Always the same with those fighting types. Never admitting it, never accepting help. She wasn’t having any of that.

She unwrapped the thin scarf from her neck, holding it out to him. “Here, take it, I don’t think you want to get any more dirt in the wound” Darcy told him, and she wouldn’t accept no as an answer. “Should I call anyone? Can I take you anywhere?” she was pretty sure the answer was going to be no for sure this time, but she was not going to leave him alone. “We’re not too far from my place” she added after another moment.

Under different circumstances, Matt would have laughed at her zero tolerance, take-no-prisoners attitude. It reminded him of Claire, and he briefly wondered why it was always the people who saw right through his crap that seemed to find him half-dead in alleyways in the middle of the night. Maybe it was a sign.

After some struggling, he managed to pull himself upright, slumping back against the wall with a low groan. The pain was starting to subside a little, enough for him to focus on what the stranger was saying as he heard the slight brush of material against skin. He grunted out some semblance of thanks as he accepted the item, hands trembling only slightly as he pressed it against the cut in his side, grimacing. “I can stitch it—“ His head tipped back against the brickwork, still too hot despite the chill of the wind.

It was too risky to go back to her place; the last thing he wanted was to get strangers caught up in his mess and put them in the firing line. But despite that, the truth was he did need her help. He wasn’t going to get very far by himself with this wound, not when there was blood still seeping through the cotton of her scarf. “It wouldn’t be safe. For you.”

“Then what do you do every night, Matt? What is it you are doing? Putting on a costume beating up bad guys. Is that justice? Or simply your idea of it? Are you not putting yourself above the low each and every night? Isn’t that like playing God? Acting superior to the system?” She knew she wasn’t being fair here. Especially considering that she always believed what Daredevil did was good- that he kept the people in the city safe as good as he could. She was mad because she knew he was right, the nightmares that kept haunting her were proof enough that she believed what she’d done was wrong.

Her heart was beating so fast it felt like it would jump straight out of her ribcage at any given moment. Her hands were trembling and her cheeks were a burning red. “Not with his… well excuse me, Matt, that while I was being drugged and dragged out to an old warehouse, my insticts didn’t exactly go for ‘wait for the damn police to solve this’. There was a gun. My life was being threatened. And I took it. Okay? I am not wearing some bullshit bulletproof suit, I can’t do martial arts- It was me and him and a gun. So what would you have done, huh? In my position, what would you have done?”

“It’s different.” The words hurt more than he expected them too, an uncomfortable sense of self-doubt crawling beneath his skin. If Karen didn’t believe in what he was doing, didn’t believe in Daredevil, then what was the point of it all? “I do what I do to put people behind bars. The law doesn’t always get it right and sometimes someone else needs to step in. But it’s not the same. I don’t kill people.”

This time it was Matt’s turn to throw his hands up in frustration, head shaking slightly as she spoke. Part of him knew she was right, that in reality it had been her only option. But he couldn’t reconcile that with the thought that what she’d done was wrong, couldn’t bring himself to make peace with the idea that sometimes murder was the only option. If he allowed himself to believe that, then everything he believed in, everything he stood for, was wrong. “I don’t know, Karen. But maybe if you’d just listened to me and Foggy for once, you wouldn’t have had to make that choice in the first place. How many times have I told you not to go digging? Not to get involved in things that you didn’t need to? This is why. It’s not a game. People get hurt.”

                @dxvilofhellskitchen​

     “ —-hey, I hate to do this, or ask since I shouldn’t have too—but I think he CHEATED you of change, do you mind if I—I count that back for you? I was trying to listen, I don’t know if you gave him a fifty or forty–my own eyes might’ve tricked me but, it doesn’t look right—they’ve done it to me before. ” her intentions are pure, nothing more or less—she knows how SLEAZY some cashiers can be to a guy with  bit of a vision problem. she’d feel like an ASS if she didn’t say anything.

The question took Matt by surprise. Most people wouldn’t have said anything, would have just pretended not to notice so as to avoid making trouble for themselves. Being short changed was hardly a big deal, right? And in reality, it probably wasn’t. But Matt appreciated the gesture; it was rare to find that type of kindness nowadays, and he gave a thankful smile. “Oh—sure! Thank you.” He hesitated for a second before holding out the hand still clutching onto the change. “That’s very kind of you.”

aseaofquotes: