coprime_writes (
coprime_writes) wrote2025-03-09 11:32 am
Entry tags:
Daredevil (TV): Jellyfish (Matt)
Title: Jellyfish
Author:
coprime
Fandom: Daredevil
Character: Matt Murdock
Rating / Word Count: G / 1,157 words
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Daredevil belongs to Netflix, Marvel, and/or Disney.
Summary: After his accident—but before Stick—it turned out there was a whole other world to experience, a world full of strange things that no one else ever noticed and he didn't have words to describe.
Notes: Part 1 of my Mushishi AU for Daredevil.
Podfic available on AO3 by
42donotpanic
~Jellyfish~
Matt couldn't see anymore, not like most people, but what he didn't see was more than what anyone else did, he thought.
After his accident—but before Stick—it turned out there was a whole other world to experience, a world full of strange things that no one else ever noticed and he didn't have words to describe. At first, in the hospital, everything had been overwhelming and too much. His father's presence had been the only thing that could help calm him, but once they were home, where he knew the layout of their apartment and their neighbors, he started noticing things. Some things, like hearing Mrs. Patel and her soaps two floors down, were things he hadn't noticed before but could place. Some things, like how irritating all the tags on his shirts now were, were things he could fix, carefully wielding a pair of scissors for an afternoon.
And some things he noticed were things that shouldn't be there.
Like the strange something floating above their kitchen table this morning as Matt ate breakfast. It lit up in his awareness. It reminded him of a jellyfish, small and delicate, as it moved with the air currents and its tentacles trailed behind it. He couldn't see it, but he felt it was there. He could hear it, a gentle chime that resonated in his head like the last fading note whenever the bell choir performed at church. He wasn't sure how he knew what it was shaped like, but he knew. The cap of the jellyfish pulsed gently, but that wasn't what was making the sound. It was pretty though, and relaxing. Matt felt some of the tension that had been his constant companion since the accident wash away as he focused on the jellyfish.
Matt pointed towards where he could sense the strange jellyfish and asked, "Dad, what's that?"
"What's what, Matty?" Jack asked, distracted by the dishes he was trying to get washed before they had to leave for the day.
"That." Matt nodded his head towards the center of the table as he took another bite of cereal.
Jack paused.
"I don't see anything there." Jack crossed the tiny kitchen in three strides and sat down in the other chair at the table. "Unless you mean the phone on the wall?"
And his dad sounded so confused that Matt knew he couldn't see what Matt could so clearly sense. Maybe the jellyfish wasn't really there, maybe he was just confused. He'd had a lot of adults tell him he was just confused lately whenever he talked about something he'd overheard.
Matt curled into himself.
He said, "Never mind, I thought I heard something."
"Okay." Jack reached across the table and cupped Matt's face in his hands. The little jellyfish disappeared through the wall, blown away by his father's movement. Jack kissed Matt's forehead, ruffling Matt's hair when he let go. "Finish your cereal, and then it's time to go to your new blind class. Gotta learn how to use that new cane of yours so you don't get lost in Fogwell's again."
Matt laughed, putting the jellyfish out of his mind. If his dad couldn't see whatever it was, then it probably wasn't important.
~
~
Over the months following his accident, as Matt learned about his new reality, he figured some stuff out. Stuff no one told or taught him.
Like, his other senses were better than they should be. That was why he could hear Mrs. Patel and her soaps every morning at breakfast and why no one ever believed him when he said he'd heard the things that he had heard. It wasn't that he was wrong or confused, but he was the only one who could hear and feel and taste and smell the things that he now could. It was overwhelming and confusing. His orientation class kept telling him to listen for all the sound cues he could hear to orient himself, but for him all the sound cues were too much.
He dealt with it as best he could and ignored a lot of the advice from his mobility instructor that didn't help him. He learned to keep quiet about what he heard because he didn't want anyone to think he was confused and take away the independence he'd earned back.
And through it all, he had the strange, new creatures he could sense. Like the jellyfish, but all sorts of different shapes. They tended towards small, like the size of Mr. Hanson's pet gerbil, though sometimes Matt could sense something—or maybe multiple somethings—much larger hovering just at the edge of his range. Sometimes they floated through walls, and sometimes they settled on counters. Each one unique, and Matt the only one who knew they were there.
He liked them. The creatures all had their own chime, and Matt took to concentrating on them when things were too much for him.
It was almost peaceful. Him, his dad, and his new creature friends.
~
~
By the time Stick showed up, things had gotten bad.
The range for things he could hear and smell had expanded. The strange creatures avoided the church where Matt now lived. There was no escape for him, no respite from the chaos he was inundated with every second of every minute all day long. He couldn't sleep, instead passing out from exhaustion only to wake up screaming an hour or two later at best.
The nuns didn't know how to help him, and none of the doctors they took him to could do anything for him. Neither his teachers—either at his regular school or at the training and rehabilitation center he had attended since the accident—nor any of the social workers for his case knew what to do.
But Stick knew what to do. Matt fell into his teaching like it was a lifeline because to him it was. Stick taught him how to harness his senses, how to use that chaotic tangle of everything all the time and focus on what was important. Matt easily tumbled into sleep each night after training with Stick and stayed there until morning came. Matt was eager to learn as much as he could from Stick, and the nuns were pleased he was no longer screaming.
And Stick explained to him what the creatures were. Mushi, he called them. Supernatural beings that were made of life itself, and that only a select, special few could sense. Matt had only seen small, harmless mushi—the kind that tended to congregate in cities where pollution ran thick in the air—but Stick informed him of mushi that were the size of a mountain. According to Stick, mushi could do strange things—powerful things—but he wouldn't explain what that meant until Matt was ready.
And then Stick left, leaving Matt with a hole in his heart and too many questions to which he couldn't get answers.
Author:
Fandom: Daredevil
Character: Matt Murdock
Rating / Word Count: G / 1,157 words
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Daredevil belongs to Netflix, Marvel, and/or Disney.
Summary: After his accident—but before Stick—it turned out there was a whole other world to experience, a world full of strange things that no one else ever noticed and he didn't have words to describe.
Notes: Part 1 of my Mushishi AU for Daredevil.
Podfic available on AO3 by
~Jellyfish~
Matt couldn't see anymore, not like most people, but what he didn't see was more than what anyone else did, he thought.
After his accident—but before Stick—it turned out there was a whole other world to experience, a world full of strange things that no one else ever noticed and he didn't have words to describe. At first, in the hospital, everything had been overwhelming and too much. His father's presence had been the only thing that could help calm him, but once they were home, where he knew the layout of their apartment and their neighbors, he started noticing things. Some things, like hearing Mrs. Patel and her soaps two floors down, were things he hadn't noticed before but could place. Some things, like how irritating all the tags on his shirts now were, were things he could fix, carefully wielding a pair of scissors for an afternoon.
And some things he noticed were things that shouldn't be there.
Like the strange something floating above their kitchen table this morning as Matt ate breakfast. It lit up in his awareness. It reminded him of a jellyfish, small and delicate, as it moved with the air currents and its tentacles trailed behind it. He couldn't see it, but he felt it was there. He could hear it, a gentle chime that resonated in his head like the last fading note whenever the bell choir performed at church. He wasn't sure how he knew what it was shaped like, but he knew. The cap of the jellyfish pulsed gently, but that wasn't what was making the sound. It was pretty though, and relaxing. Matt felt some of the tension that had been his constant companion since the accident wash away as he focused on the jellyfish.
Matt pointed towards where he could sense the strange jellyfish and asked, "Dad, what's that?"
"What's what, Matty?" Jack asked, distracted by the dishes he was trying to get washed before they had to leave for the day.
"That." Matt nodded his head towards the center of the table as he took another bite of cereal.
Jack paused.
"I don't see anything there." Jack crossed the tiny kitchen in three strides and sat down in the other chair at the table. "Unless you mean the phone on the wall?"
And his dad sounded so confused that Matt knew he couldn't see what Matt could so clearly sense. Maybe the jellyfish wasn't really there, maybe he was just confused. He'd had a lot of adults tell him he was just confused lately whenever he talked about something he'd overheard.
Matt curled into himself.
He said, "Never mind, I thought I heard something."
"Okay." Jack reached across the table and cupped Matt's face in his hands. The little jellyfish disappeared through the wall, blown away by his father's movement. Jack kissed Matt's forehead, ruffling Matt's hair when he let go. "Finish your cereal, and then it's time to go to your new blind class. Gotta learn how to use that new cane of yours so you don't get lost in Fogwell's again."
Matt laughed, putting the jellyfish out of his mind. If his dad couldn't see whatever it was, then it probably wasn't important.
Over the months following his accident, as Matt learned about his new reality, he figured some stuff out. Stuff no one told or taught him.
Like, his other senses were better than they should be. That was why he could hear Mrs. Patel and her soaps every morning at breakfast and why no one ever believed him when he said he'd heard the things that he had heard. It wasn't that he was wrong or confused, but he was the only one who could hear and feel and taste and smell the things that he now could. It was overwhelming and confusing. His orientation class kept telling him to listen for all the sound cues he could hear to orient himself, but for him all the sound cues were too much.
He dealt with it as best he could and ignored a lot of the advice from his mobility instructor that didn't help him. He learned to keep quiet about what he heard because he didn't want anyone to think he was confused and take away the independence he'd earned back.
And through it all, he had the strange, new creatures he could sense. Like the jellyfish, but all sorts of different shapes. They tended towards small, like the size of Mr. Hanson's pet gerbil, though sometimes Matt could sense something—or maybe multiple somethings—much larger hovering just at the edge of his range. Sometimes they floated through walls, and sometimes they settled on counters. Each one unique, and Matt the only one who knew they were there.
He liked them. The creatures all had their own chime, and Matt took to concentrating on them when things were too much for him.
It was almost peaceful. Him, his dad, and his new creature friends.
By the time Stick showed up, things had gotten bad.
The range for things he could hear and smell had expanded. The strange creatures avoided the church where Matt now lived. There was no escape for him, no respite from the chaos he was inundated with every second of every minute all day long. He couldn't sleep, instead passing out from exhaustion only to wake up screaming an hour or two later at best.
The nuns didn't know how to help him, and none of the doctors they took him to could do anything for him. Neither his teachers—either at his regular school or at the training and rehabilitation center he had attended since the accident—nor any of the social workers for his case knew what to do.
But Stick knew what to do. Matt fell into his teaching like it was a lifeline because to him it was. Stick taught him how to harness his senses, how to use that chaotic tangle of everything all the time and focus on what was important. Matt easily tumbled into sleep each night after training with Stick and stayed there until morning came. Matt was eager to learn as much as he could from Stick, and the nuns were pleased he was no longer screaming.
And Stick explained to him what the creatures were. Mushi, he called them. Supernatural beings that were made of life itself, and that only a select, special few could sense. Matt had only seen small, harmless mushi—the kind that tended to congregate in cities where pollution ran thick in the air—but Stick informed him of mushi that were the size of a mountain. According to Stick, mushi could do strange things—powerful things—but he wouldn't explain what that meant until Matt was ready.
And then Stick left, leaving Matt with a hole in his heart and too many questions to which he couldn't get answers.
