𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚠 𝙼𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚔.

The phone beeped.

Now, where did he put his suit...?

Yet, he knew all too well, that Frank- despite all his shortcomings and murderous tendencies, he was a guy trying to do better.

Damn you, Frank.

Damn you all the way to Hell.

"Radio silent. Keep it that way. I'll be there in ten minutes."

Matt trudged himself out of bed, taking care.

"If you needed an angel on your shoulder, then you shouldn't have called the Devil," he murmured, dropping the bottle with an accidental slam. He was in no condition to be helping anyone right now, but Frank...

Getting put in jail, that should teach him, right? This is a good thing.

"- make appointments, Frank."

Matt twirled the whiskey around in his bottle. It clinked on the phone speaker.

"... To what do I owe the pleasure."

Frank Castle.

Frank Castle.

Frank. Castle.

His phone spoke audibly. Matt had been on a three day bender. Booze, sleepless nights, cuts and bruises. Broken ribs.

In his stupor, he found himself sloppily reaching for his phone. What did Frank want?

... And why now?

"Usually my clients-"

... Rrn.

Something happened to me.

Can't quite place what exactly it was.

All I remember was a song, but... it's gone now.

But all is still wrong.

Where have I been?

What happened to my city?

... No.

What happened to my suit?

THHHISS.

WORLD.

FULL OF SINNERSS.

MUSST FACE JUSSTICE!!

But that voice inside his head... that incessant song.

The world had its heroes, but there was no

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄.

The song had been sung.
The seeds had been sowed.

Peter Parker was not dead, at least not to him.

Unfortunately for Matthew Murdock, being alive was a curse some days.

And as the black fell from the sky, and all turned to dark, he found himself at home.

The world had its heroes. ⚖️

// apologies for not being around much this week, have been exhausted from the heat

// exhausted af, Peter and Matt remain in limbo (not the place) for the night

"No, that would be South Park," he smirked.

"You even held back the curse. That's pretty impressive self-restraint, Miss Hardy."

Matt poured her a glass of whiskey.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm just a lawyer."

He slid over the glass.

⠀
All is quiet. Unnaturally so.

The black rain continues, and the All-Black sits in Central Park, untouched.

Something is coming.

𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐀𝐘, #KnullReturns.
⠀

His senses were shot, but amid the darkness, he could feel the presence of a woman in the shadows, watching him.

@anastasiamitchell.bsky.social

The Devil fell. A two story drop, multiple stab-wounds. Unconscious and bleeding. Multiple fractures, and possibly a broken rib.

The slam of his body against the dumpster echoed off the rain that poured so heavily that night.

He wheezed, holding his wounds taut. ⚖️

I suppose this is why they leave the jokes to Spider-Man.

[He laughed.]

"I'm not sure spicy romances make for great children's Christmas movies," he said with a laugh, "but I'm curious."

"What else should I know about the mysterious Felicia Hardy?"

Blindsided, huh?

[A grin.]

I'm blind.

// I'm about to do something bigger and bolder with this character that will tie into my matt account (@lettingthedevilout.bsky.social)

i picture it kinda like when Benjamin Percy was writing Wolverine and Ghost Rider at the same time

anyways. it'll only last about a week, but I'm excited to-

@adoptedrogers.bsky.social

"I wasn't aware I had any clients today," Matt said, offering a smile. He wore bandages upon his face, one on his nose, several on his cheeks, bruises and cuts littered his skin.

"Please, have a seat, Miss-?"

// HEY wait HOLD UP, i could ask the same to you!!!

// do i count the ones i deactivated ---

Matt laughed.

"I'm afraid my friend Hermey is quite a bit different than Olympian Mythology. The fabled texts of "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" never came across the infamous Black Cat and her exuberant heists? I hear it's quite the hit with children on Christmas."

A grin.

⠃⠁⠝⠙⠺⠁⠛⠕⠝⠎ [ʙᴀɴᴅᴡᴀɢᴏɴꜱ]

⠎⠕⠇⠕⠎ [ꜱᴏʟᴏꜱ]