adiūtor; helper, assistant, deputy [GMT RP blog for Daredevil character James Wesley in which both the mun and muse are 18+. Est. Sept 2018.]
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
Text
I’ve been having a real crisis of confidence over Wesley so even though I’ve been back, I guess I’m not back. I just don’t feel so good over here as I do on my other blog so I’m kind of over there and very active over there instead. I just don’t feel the same love for Wesley atm as I do my other muse so.... I don’t know what’s going to happen to this blog
4 notes
·
View notes
Photo
God murdered all ten of his children in cold blood. Scorched every inch of Job’s land. Lashed at his body till his skin was covered in bloody welts. God rained shit and misery on the life of his most perfect servant and still Job would not curse him. You know what I realised? Job was a pussy.
424 notes
·
View notes
Text
whitegradations:
IT IS OFTEN A PECULIAR NOTION THAT BEAUTY CAN CALM THE BEAST. And yet, Vanessa has never thought of herself as doing so– for Wilson was his own person and grown man, and he could definitely take care of himself, however she did know he had a volatile temper, but this is where his heart came in. People underestimated him, made him to be less because of his appearance and to those she would damn them all to hell, for Wilson was a soul unique onto its own– good and honest.
HIS QUESTION INTRIGUES HER. That was quite a good assumption of the entire situation, she would not describe the men in her life of either of these terms neither. “You remind me of a fox, Wesley,” She answers, truthfully, quite pleased with the growing relationship that she had been granted permission to use his name without the niceties. “Sly, quick and cunning. You don’t let much get to you and orderly and direct. Quite organized and effective, I am brave enough to admit that it a rarity among men.” It takes her a moment to properly think of a term for her lover. “Wilson is like a tiger, regal but languid. Threatening but calm when unprovoked. Can strike as quickly as he can be calmed. A king.” Perhaps she was being quite melodramatic with the comparisons but she asserted that she felt quite pleased with them.
AND WHAT A LOVER WILSON HAD PROVEN HIMSELF TO BE. Kind, quiet, lovely, deadly– there were layers to his complexity that continued to astound her and fascinate her with every passing day. How her heart beat whenever she thought of him. “Hopefully that he would.” Vanessa says as she follows his assertion. “If not, then I can at least try to calm him down, he needs to keep his mind quite cool.”
Wesley didn’t feel that it was just the beauty of Vanessa that would calm Wilson down, although he didn’t doubt that it was what had immediately drawn his boss to her. They were beyond such simple, shallow matters now, however. The woman was more than just beautiful and that was what was necessary to calm Wilson down now. He hoped that she could do a fairly good job of it at least. His temper was less than beautiful and Wesley just hoped that the more unusual beauty she brought with her calm manner would do more to calm him down than anyone could.
A fox was definitely not the worst thing for him to be compared to and he had certainly been called worse than that in his past. He could see her reasoning for her decisions. For her to further say that he was quite rare as a man was more of a delight, however, even though he never considered himself that way. “I think that he is well likened to a tiger in a lot of ways,” he agreed, nodding slightly. He wasn’t usually one to think so abstractly, comparing humans to animals and vice versa. He had even grown out of anthropomorphising animals quickly when he was younger, seeing them as nothing but what they were; deserving of respect in their own right but incomparable to himself and other humans.
“I’m glad, as always, Miss Marianna, that you agree with me. It will only make our, and Mr. Fisk’s life easier if we are on the same page.” With a good amount of luck then Wilson would be calmed by her and he would be able to return to work. He hoped that a powerful return would be more than enough to stop any of the threats from the others. Gao and Nobu could not hope to exclude him from their ranks and still be successful here. They knew it and Wesley certainly believed it too, but in these moments someone else was needed too.
#whitegradations#( vanessa: what he needs )#( queue: already on my way )#( verse: we do not say his name )
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
eliza-fiskk:
The young woman looks up and over at the man in front of her, ‘So much poise. It’s almost scary how clean he is,’ she thinks.
She gingerly takes his hand, smiling softly. “Yes, my father speaks very highly of you. You’ve been his topic of conversation when there’s an awkward silence. That is, until last week or so.”
She quickly, and subconsciously, wraps one foot around her ankle and points. She does this methodically, pointing and flexing.
“So, where do we go now? What do we do? I’m sure Baba has some long, elaborate schedule for me.”
Of course, Fisk would speak about him to her. Pride almost flit across his mind but then he controlled himself, looking back at her and mustering something that would be akin to a smile on someone other than him. Still, he felt that it wasn’t right to reply to that part of the conversation lest he came across as prideful in any way. He wasn’t someone who should feel pride in case he became complacent.
“Well, your father has a lot of things handled as it is. From what he has told me, you will not be helping him make any large decisions or anything of the like.”
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
whitegradations:
A PLEASANT GRIN TO THE CURATOR’S FACADE. Wesley was a marvelous companion, and his continued amiability during the years had been one she had thoroughly appreciated, even with her own person across the world, in a safe keeping. He treated her as very little others did– as ordinary. And while Vanessa did often revel in the attention she gets from on-goers, she does appreciate the simplicity of a friendship. “Would you believe me if I told you I did not remember?” She asks coyly, knowing fully well behind hazel eyes that she was the one to pick it out, and yet had decided to omit this from him, it was rare to get him in such a good mood.
NOTICING THE ACTIONS TAKEN WITH THE PHONE, she smiles, a pleased one, filled with pride. I have your attention now. “Alessandro Marianna was an infamous art dealer in Italy a couple of years back, and of course, he dealt with less than friendly acquaintances.” She answers, taking her own seat across from him and leaning back, a gentle sip of her wine. “I learned everything I know at his side.”
If Wesley was to be considered a marvellous companion, then Vanessa could not have any rivals. Their friendship was something that he would never have assumed prior to this, always so worried that Vanessa would be fleeting and would leave Wilson, and that he, as a trusted friend, would be the one to clear up her path of destruction. She was the type of woman who could easily do that if she so wished. The fact that she hadn’t spoke volumes and although it had taken time, he had welcomed her into the folds of their makeshift ‘family’. “I would believe another woman but I could not believe that you have forgotten who between us has chosen this wine.”
The bespectacled man was a difficult one to hold the attention of. He was always being pulled in opposite directions and the fact that he would give his attention wholeheartedly to Vanessa definitely showed how important he considered her to be. “You learnt well. There are few people who hold high dignity whilst learning such a craft. Most people that we deal with in our business are crude people, willing to stoop to get what they need to be done. You are not like those people.”
#whitegradations#( vanessa: what he needs )#( verse: back to acceptable levels )#( queue: already on my way )
5 notes
·
View notes
Photo
James Wesley. What was it like for you when he disappeared? Really, it’s those first 24 hours that are the worst, aren’t they? When you call and you call and you call and there’s just no answer. It becomes an obsession. The calling. The never ending loop of a ghost’s voice mail in your ear. You worry. You wonder. You swear, “God damn it, if he’s still living I’m gonna kill him myself.” Is that what it was like for you? Did you rage at him? Cause you thought he betrayed you? Because I wonder what would be worse for you. His duplicity or his death?
#this scene still got me like#( karen page: or just the pretty ones? )#( queue: already on my way )#( wilson fisk: he's my friend )
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
whitegradations:
THE WOMAN IS PLEASED WITH THIS ANSWER. She has always been accurately aware of Wilson’s protectiveness over her, and while she is endeared by it, she is also quite unnerved. Would someone actually come for her? She was in no humor to sustain this theory and she opted to trust both Wilson and his right hand man. “Well, I’m sure we could arrange something someday,” She answers nonchalantly. “Now that you have definitely peaked my interest. I take great pride in admitting I seek to have a very distinguished palate.”
THE CITY SEEMS TO BREEZE PAST HER. And there’s a wicked sense of delight in that, she’s never been overly fond of this city, but it had educated her, and help her find the love of her life. She’s more forgiving about this than most. “Will you at least be joining me today for lunch at the Italian place you looked for? I would greatly appreciate the company.”
“Perhaps we could.” He always got the impression that Wilson didn’t particularly like to eat Chinese food. Being in Asia for so long had the opposite effect on his friend to the effect that he had on him. It was, of course, the possibility that Wesley longed for somewhere else other than New York whereas his boss embraced the chaos of this city; this place that he loathed with every fibre of his being.
He did have to eat lunch to be fueled throughout his day, and it would draw attention if Vanessa was eating and he was not. Not to mention that it would be incredibly rude to separate the two of them like that when it had been his duty to look after her for the day. “I will be joining you. It would be detestably rude to not join you considering the circumstances.”
#whitegradations#( vanessa: what he needs )#( queue: already on my way )#( verse: we do not say his name )
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
veritaslies:
The longer Karen had to stand here, exchanging even the most banal of conversation with Wesley, the more she wanted to gouge her own eyes out. (Or perhaps his. Gouging his out would be satisfying…) It troubled her how well he was playing this game with her, how well he was acting as if he did not remember who she was. How could he forget the woman he kidnapped? The woman he nearly killed when he drugged her? How could he forget the woman who put seven bullets into him after he foolishly left a loaded gun in front of her?
(Goddamnit, he had been dead! She had been so damned sure of it, too. She heard the bullets pierce his body and shatter wood as they went through him and the chair, watched the blood bloom across his pristine white shirt, watched as his body slumped in the chair, saw the light leave his eyes! So how the hell was he here, standing before her? Had she been mistaken? Had he been alive, barely so? Oh god, if so…she needed to do some digging. As soon as she left here.)
There was his voice again, so gratingly calm, and Karen forced her attention away from the crowd and back to the man. Karen didn’t need any kind of statement, not really. She wasn’t even supposed to be here, let alone speaking to people (Ellison had forbidden it), but she had to come and see this for herself. She had to see first-hand that it was true, that Fisk was out of jail and into more ‘protective’ custody.
(Because if he was out of jail…soon he would be free. And that spelled disaster for the city.)
“Putting our own opinion in means we’re leaning towards one bias or another. We’re objective reporters, not Fox News with an agenda and an ax to grind.”
God, Ellison was right. She should have stayed away.
“So that’s a no on a statement from you then?”
It was easy to not be performing an act, of course, when you were not acting. Wesley didn’t remember the process of his death. Didn’t remember how he’d been shot seven times, although to him he’d blacked out so quickly that he wouldn’t have remembered it anyway. It was the waking up that he’d remembered. Everyone around him had looked so shocked but no one would ever tell him why they’d looked that way at him. He’d heard that it was a bad wound and he was lucky to recover, but he hadn’t thought that it would be that bad.
“Isn’t it the case that everyone has a bias for or against something. Whether you claim to be objective reporters or not, Miss...” He remembered that she hadn’t actually told him her name and he stilled himself for a few seconds. Why was she so reluctant to be forthcoming with such a small piece of information. What had she done which meant even her name was too dangerous to admit to someone else?
“...Isn’t it the truth that you have a bias?” he said, after a few seconds of a pause. “Your entire paper seems very anti-Wilson Fisk and if his appeal goes through then that could be considered to be a slander upon an innocent, no? Isn’t it correct that within our society, once someone has done their time then they should not be punished anymore?”
“That’s a no on a statement from me. A statement will be issued in due course, whether that is from Mr. Fisk himself, or the FBI.” This was the proper way to handle everything, even though it was typically not what he was used to. It had seemed that much had changed while he’d been recovering from his own injuries, and not all of it was to his liking.
Still, if this is how it was done now, that was how it would be done. He was nothing if not someone who could follow rules accurately, as he knew that Fisk would want him too. It was all part of a grand plan he was sure. Unusually, he was not privy to such information.
#( verse: back to acceptable levels )#( karen page: or just the pretty ones? )#veritaslies#( queue: already on my way )
8 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Deborah Ann Woll attends the premiere of Marvel’s ‘Captain America: Civil War’ at Dolby Theatre on April 12, 2016 in Los Angeles, California.
339 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wesley could do little more than nod. He knew that Vanessa was wanting to get to know him some more but the idea of showing himself to her for on more than just the superficial level that they knew each other on now. It was nice, he supposed, that she wanted to know more about him as Wilson’s friend, rather than just dealing with him as an employee. “I... will check my schedule and see what I can do.”
adiutorwesley:
Vanessa really was overestimating a little in the assumption that he did have his own personal hobbies. From when he was awake until he went to sleep, his mind was almost entirely consumed with attending to the business of his employer. “I would, of course, have to ask Mr Fisk. Often when the two of you are having dinner I am tending to important matters in other ways. Nothing that you or he should be concerned about, of course, but nevertheless important.”
A SMALL O FORMS AROUND HER LIPS, but it’s quickly vanished as soon as Vanessa composes herself. Of course, she should have known, and Vanessa often doesn’t feel silly but in this particular occasion, well, she was just a little. “Of course,” She says, hushed, in a form of an apology. “Well, just know I would be more than glad to have your company with us whenever you can, Mr. Wesley.”
#whitegradations#( vanessa: what he needs )#( verse: we do not say his name )#( queue: already on my way )
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
@eliza-fiskk
It wasn’t that he thought he knew everything about Wilson’s life; he was sure that the truth was quite different but he had thought that Wilson would have told him everything important that was pertinent to their business. Having a daughter, for example, would have been something quite important to know before she’d turned up in New York and now he had to accommodate her. Not that it was especially difficult, this kind of thing was second nature to him.
It would have just been nice to know that there was someone important in Wilson’s life that wasn’t his own mother. There was no way of knowing who and what his daughter would really turn out to be like, and it was even more difficult to ascertain whether she had been influenced by forces that were quite negative to their own views. It would be difficult to trust her wanting to get into their business quickly, even if Wilson trusted her. It was the case, however, that his boss was much more emotionally led than he was. For now, he would be nothing less than civil with his daughter until he was convinced either way.
Having to meet her though, felt a little bit like a chore. He was sure that there were more important things for him to do today whilst his friend was meeting with her. Still, when she arrived, from his point standing around the edges of the room, he greeted her in a polite way, holding his hand out briefly for a handshake.
“Eliza, correct? I’m Wesley, your father’s associate.”
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hi everyone! So I know I disappeared for a while there but I'm hoping to be back tomorrow. It's a very stressful time at the moment for me within university and I hope that I'll be able to get back to posting here soon but I haven't really been in a very Wesley mindset (also my laptop broke). I'll be back! I miss writing Wesley a lot and I miss the people I write with here.
1 note
·
View note
Text
Wesley knew that what they did here would scare a lot of lesser people, whether they were men or women. That wasn’t what was important to him, but the fact that Vanessa had a stronger stomach than most definitely meant that it was easier to see her as his friend’s companion than it would be for him to see most people in that position. It was not that he was jealous, per se. He considered such childish emotions as that to be beneath him, but he did worry that the involvement of this woman would make Fisk weaker if he dared to think about it too long. It seemed highly unlikely most of the time but tonight was very different. For once, Wesley could not calm the other and maybe Vanessa could. She seemed to be the source of the passion he’d been feeling so fervently over the last few weeks.
“And which would you consider us to be? Myself and Mr Fisk? We’re certainly not peacocks but I wouldn’t consider us to be wolves either.” Wilson showed his ferocity from time to time but mostly he was the shy, retiring type. He preferred to be looking at the art in his penthouse rather than dealing with the type of business that could quickly become messy. On the other hand, Wesley never showed to anyone that he had a side that was less than pristine. Not to anyone who could tell anyone else, anyway. And not that he enjoyed such moments. He certainly did not.
Vanessa was truly in the best position to calm him down, and it was only after a few seconds that he realised quite why. He would never hurt her. He could send her in to talk to him without the fear that it would be her blood splashing onto his face like Anatoly’s had. Wilson always made a strong effort to not show his unbridled rage to the women in his life, such as his mother and now the art dealer sat next to him. “I have no doubt that your reason is one he will listen to.” And hopefully, he would stay his rage, not take it out on one very expensive table any further.
“And please, just Wesley is fine,” he said, casting his eyes out of the window as they drove past the ever towering buildings.
adiutorwesley:
Wesley did appreciate how much he and Vanessa were on the same page. They both respected the same man and that extended out to each other, mostly because of their mutual friend. He respected that she was not scared away by the implication of exactly what their business entailed. Of course, he had not said what they did in as many words but she was an astute woman, had seen the Russians when they interrupted her and Wilson. It didn’t take a genius to jump to the correct conclusion.
All of that aside, he saw something beyond the politeness and simplicity of the art dealer opposite him when he looked at Vanessa. She was not as simple as some of those would like her to be, that was for sure, although Wesley couldn’t quite work out yet exactly what it was that he could see. Definitely, she was not afraid of what could happen to her via Fisk’s dangerous position, more she was willing to be part of it.
“Of course, you and I realise that, but some of the people we work with have an exceptional sense of self-grandiosity,” he said, lips pursing in distaste as he talked about that kind of person. They would forever be his opposite since he was all grey suits and an ever-changing presence that few would be able to pin down. “I am sure that in your line of work you’re very aware of the type.”
Maybe that was why she would be able to connect with Wilson right now. She would likely have more experience with the emotions that he was feeling than Wesley did. As far as possible, he didn’t like his emotions to stretch past vague annoyance.
WESLEY WAS A FINE MAN, A GOOD COMPANION TO HER LOVER. A loyalty that shines brighter than any sun, one that puts the ultimate so-called friendships to shame. And she could also see how involved he was in the whole business, how it all seemed to be entangled in a web of lies and deceit, one that could easily scare a lesser woman– but Vanessa was not weak. Her heart sings at the fact that her beloved Wilson could count on a friend as astute and sharp as Wesley, for as much as she loves her dear one, he did tend to favor brashness over cold and calculating. No matter, James Wesley was here to make it all better, more cohesive.
MISS MARIANNA HAS KNOWN ABOUT THIS SIDE OF THE BUSINESS HER WHOLE LIFE. About dangerous men and deadly women, about the way money makes problems go away and how a beautiful and glamorous appearance can even make the most cynical of criminals susceptible to her own enchantments. Vanessa studied at the feet of the best, and the good thing about being a Crime Lord’s daughter overseas is the ability to start anew, fresh, all across the states.
THE WOMAN STUDIES HIS WORDS CAREFULLY, and pride blooms onto her chest when she realizes that Wesley’s distaste for the grandiose is similar to her own, preferring to stick to chic, simple pencil skirt dresses and appropriate business-like attire. “Oh, I have learned very quickly to distinguish wolves from peacocks, Mr. Wesley,” She adds, trying to place some light humor into the situation. “Those types of men never get ahead as much as they’d like. They think a nice, pressed suit and the ability to say its price out-loud is somehow going to open doors when in fact they all end up slammed in their faces.”
HOPEFULLY SHE WILL BE OF USE, the one to pursue Wilson into taking a deep breath and to calm down. “I will try my best to talk him down.” She says, wanting to ease Wilson’s friend’s concerns. “Hopefully he’ll listen to reason. He’s one of the strongest people I know.”
#whitegradations#( vanessa: what he needs )#( queue: already on my way )#( verse: we do not say his name )
14 notes
·
View notes
Photo
8K notes
·
View notes
Text
deathitsclf:
“Madame Gao never had to listen to Nobu, he was her insubordinate,” Elektra said, “And both are dead now. Madame Gao. Nobu. Nobu’s master. The rest of the leaders of the Hand. All that remains now is me. I lead the Hand,” he didn’t need to know what a Black Sky was, maybe it was better to keep some of her cards in her deck. Keep it in that she was now an Immortal Weapon, all she needed to be for the purpose of this meeting was leader of the Hand.
“You and your employer have had certain dealings with us, yes? With Nobu, and Gao and maybe even Alexandria. Those dealings will all now be held with me. Unlike Alexandria, I will not be sending in underlings to represent my interests.”
Wesley was almost impressed, but he didn’t say anything that would betray that. He’d never particularly enjoyed having to talk to Nobu but he knew that his own employer had a lot of respect for Madame Gao. At the very least, he enjoyed her company. She had been exceptionally sharp of tongue and having her around while the Russians had always been very entertaining.
“We have had dealings with Madame Gao and Nobu in the past, indeed, but who is in charge doesn’t matter to us. Our affairs are not dictated by who’s in charge but who is doing the business. As long as the business stays as we expect it to, I’m sure that there won’t be a single problem.”
7 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Wilson Fisk & Vanessa Marianna: domestic
161 notes
·
View notes
Text
whitegradations:
HEADING TOWARDS THE BREAKFAST BAR THEY HAD IN THEIR BEAUTIFUL APARTMENT, Vanessa places two beautiful glasses, as shinning as the ring on her manicured finger. She was Ms. Wilson Fisk now, and as tradition entailed, she was to make his best man feel as comfortable as possible. While wine circles upon both glasses in a beautiful, delicate twirl as she takes both tall glasses and hands one over to her companion.
THE WICKED GRIN THAT MEETS HER GAZE PLEASES VANESSA. Wesley and herself had somehow gotten themselves into a silent agreement to always, wholeheartedly protect Wilson first, no matter the cost. “I’m quite aware of that,” She answers as she slowly and carefully sips on her wine. “But I am more than willing to learn a few new tricks if necessary.” She continues, crossing the room and sitting across from him. “Did I ever tell you about my father? Alessandro Marianna?”
Wesley took the glass with her with a friendly smile and took a sip, savouring the wine with a deep breath and smiled. “This is a delightful wine. Did I choose it or do I have a rival in you?” he said, corners of his mouth turning up in a friendly smile. It was a wine that was very much to his taste. Dry, fruity but quite sweet. To his taste, it was likely a Moscato, something which he would definitely choose for himself. He was quite sure that Vanessa knew that much about him.
It had been his job, of course, to get Vanessa somewhat vetted when he’d first met her, so he’d heard of her father in vague terms but only enough to make sure that she was safe to be getting closer to his boss. “I don’t believe that I’ve ever heard anything from you about him,” he said, sipping again from the glass. He took his phone out of his pocket and put it onto the counter, face down for once.
#whitegradations#( vanessa: what he needs )#( queue: already on my way )#( verse: back to acceptable levels )
5 notes
·
View notes