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Lucifer never paid any mind to humanity – their wants and ambitions were all minor, insignificant details. His original plans of the apocalypse hadn’t gone as originally intended, though he merely denounced that detail as a small setback, unwilling to allow anyone – especially the Winchesters, to get in his way again. It was all a matter of patience, something he gathered over spending so long in the cage.

“I agree with the needing to die part, but rebuilding seems a tad pointless in my opinion,” Lucifer mentioned after a moment. “You humans seem to think the same. Believing you can make a difference, all the while not knowing how soon the end of everything will come – the fact that it almost happened several times now.”

“There is, however, a possibility that I’ll help you get rid if this Daredevil character.” It was one life – an easy kill if he was so willing to do the man a favor. “But of course, I don’t usually do anything without a bit of self-interest. What could you offer me in return for such a service?” He didn’t prefer going out of his way, but perhaps he could benefit from an exchange.

Was the other man for real? What if this was all just a scam, a prank set up by one of Fisks many enemies. The devil didn’t exist, Wilson had always been the devil at least when it came to his business rivals in the mob. No one was above him and everyone feared and respected him, yet this man for some reason didn’t? The kingpin could always sense fear and discomfort in others when in his presence, but with this man, he felt nothing. He was puzzled. “Several times? You mean the end of the world? But if what you say is true then why not help me or do even more? Whatever I want, whatever you want? This city, this world is just like an old nightclub. The buffet sandwiches have long since gone stale and the drink is pigswill, but the music’s still playing for now, so why not dance and enjoy whats left, while we still can?”

The kingpin’s mood lifted slightly as the other man spoke of possibly helping him get rid of Daredevil. “vamos a divertirnos!” Wilson remarked in spanish. He was an intelligent man, he spoke several languages, a secret he kept hidden from the other mobsters, enabling him to listen into private conversations. A valuable tool, but one he knew only the devil himself could know about him. “Quid vis?” He then replied in latin, considering what he would be willing to give the man or creature before him in return. “You don’t seem the type of individual who takes much pleasure in material things?”

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@leathervice​

         ❝   the  only  business  i’d  be  doin  is  controllin  both  areas,   sir.   this  idn’t                                   some  kind  of  trade  off.  my  rules,  my  way.   ❞

“What rules would they be? I’m curious, I deeply respect your conviction and status, your achievements are clear to see, but perhaps you are being overly confident? I’m not cruel for cruelties sake. I would hate for there to be any unnecessary bloodshed between our people. I’m certain we could reach an agreement to our mutual benefit, wouldn’t you agree?”

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@settledmyscores

Frank let the waves of anger roll over him, his hand twitching ever so slightly, the only physical tell that the other man’s words had affected him in any way. More than anything he wanted to ask him what he knew of cruelty, what he knew of the pain that could cut you so much deeper than a knife and leave you twice as empty. He probably thought he knew Frank because he knew what had happened to his family. If that were true, than half of New York knew Frank Castle better than he knew himself. Good thing that was a load of bullshit.

“No. You’re wrong, Fisk.” He looked up and met the man’s gaze with a piercing look of his own. “It’s not the world that’s cruel, but the people that live in it. People like you.”

The kingpin was a master manipulator when it came to bending others to his will, but something about Frank Castle was different, he was of a stronger mindset than the usual criminals Fisk did dealings with. “People like me?” Wilson raised a curious eyebrow, slightly puzzled by the other mans remark. The mob boss had never viewed himself as evil, he only did what he felt was necessary for what he hoped to achieve in his life. But then again, did the devil know he was in fact the devil?

“People like me? People like you. People like my father before me. Perhaps we are all merely what this world deserves. You had your family taken from you. My father beat me and my mother until the day I finally killed him. Cruelty is just human nature I suppose. But I can assure you, I am not cruel for cruelties sake, I am not my father Mr. Castle, can you say the same?”

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@headprick

  “JEEESUS, that’s fucking badass, remind me not to ever fucking piss you the fuck off.”  negan laughs, throat rumbling from the sound.  a wicked grin spreads across his handsome face, eyes delaying his delight at the information.  he’s just found himself another reliable killer !  now that was fucking PLEASANT AS PUNCH. he can’t contain his sadistic glee at the mere thought of it all, “i simply can’t decide what to do with you, you can work for me, or you can get to know lucille real well, she’s real fucking thirsty lately.”

The former Kingpin was rather surprised. He had just killed one of Negan’s own men, yet he hadn’t been shot yet. He glanced down at the corpse on the floor, badly beaten and covered in blood, his head smashed in. Wilson hadn’t meant to do it, he had been upset and his emotions in the heat of the moment had gotten the better of him. Now he merely looked down in shame like a dog that had unintentionally disobeyed its owner. Fisk felt no remorse for killing the man, only the sad regret of being caught in the act. Deep down he was like Negan, just another monster. “I apologize. He insulted my mother. She was a good woman. I shall make this up to you, however you wish me too, I am in your debt.”

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@unholyhost

“You’ve gotta be kidding”

“Someone’s mocking me, its not acceptable. I’m the Kingpin. I demand respect! I own this city and that was my sandwich! When I find out who did it, i will rip them limb from limb.”

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“Reminds of one of Vanessa’s modern art sculptures. Do you like italian food Mr. Murdock? All this evading police capture, makes me hungry.”

“Honestly, I think the car looks better after we crashed it.”

meme

“How is that even possible?”

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@xiburncoldx

Such a casual greeting – most wouldn’t be so bold. “And you think I care about your petty little ambition because?” The question came after a heavy breath parted his lips, the mere human’s presence an automatic irritation. 

       Under most circumstances, Lucifer would have already reduced him to ashes. Rather, he took a few paced steps in a circular fashion, fingers brushing over his chin. 

       “I mean, the very fact that you came to me asking for assistance shows much about your character. Doing anything for creatures like you – seems rather pointless given well, who I am.” A light hum quietly sounded. “Alright. Let’s just say, I’ll humor you. What kind of ‘helping hand’ do you have in mind?”

Wilson had never been a religious man. He had no belief in god or the devil, so perhaps he was just hallucinating. The mob boss was both a monster and a child in many ways, smart and ambitious yet compulsive, he had done some awful things throughout his life, whatever it took to achieve his aims. So regardless of whether this was real or not, he would give it a shot anyway, why not?

“Sorry, there was no one else I could ask for such a favor. I’m a man with few friends and my time is running out. I have a vision, I want to rebuild this city, help it reach its full potential, its been my one goal my whole life, but now I feel it slipping away. But this place is rotten, crumbling and fading. It needs to die before it can be reborn.”

The kingpin gave a heavy frustrated sigh as he watched the other being, wondering about his thoughts, whether he could help him. "I just want to carve something beautiful out of its ugliness, set free its potential. But this man, Daredevil, he gets in my way at every turn, destroys all my efforts. I just need him gone. I need him gone for good."

[iamwilsonfisk-blog]

Reblog if your muse has ever committed a serious crime.

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@rcdscarf

Turning his head to glance in the direction of the speaker, Corvus spotted the other man standing in the shadows–he must’ve been out longer than he thought, unless the phrase was meant to throw him off. Not that it matter, he could get himself out of this situation soon enough, it was just a matter of getting the information he needed.

Yondu always did mention his curiousity would get the best of him.

“Hm, morning already?” He tugged on the chains, testing their strength before focusing his attention back on the newcomer. “So why the warm welcome?” He quipped, clearly amused about the whole thing despite being chained up to the nines. “You coming to check on me or are we gonna have a nice little chat?”

The kingpin finally emerged from the shadows, the large man pulled up a chair beside the captive and sat down, idly stroking the cuff links on the sleeves of his black suit. He had no knowledge of who this man was, only that the other had been in the wrong place at the right time and overheard some things that he shouldn’t have.

The old mobster raised an eyebrow, somewhat surprised at how calm the man was, considering his situation was so dire.

“You like to talk, but so do I. It just feels like the honorable thing to do, even with my enemies. You possess great courage, I deeply respect that. I just wished to speak with you, so you would understand, this is nothing personal. I am not cruel for cruelties sake, I just do what must be done.”

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↪     💀    »    terrifiesthem    «

frank raises a BROW at the younger man’s explanation. that does explain why he’d take on the last name. it was a good tactic, overall, and he supposes the fact the fisk name will be carried on by a DETECTIVE – out of all things – is a bit of irony. there wasn’t really a DOUBT in his mind that richard wouldn’t end up like fisk himself. he never assumes any child of someone threatening like that will grow up in their father’s footsteps. he’d been proven wrong with HENRY. henry, the son of jigsaw, some teenager he thought would be no different than his old man. yet … he WAS. it didn’t help that jigsaw abused him and his mother – but it gained frank more … perspective. not like he would have done anything about it, anyways.

he remembers meeting richard LONG ago. he didn’t take care of him then – only because he was just a child. he knew there was potential for GOOD things. and he’s glad he was RIGHT. but now frank watches as the other man looks through the files. they must be his. there’s a huff as he GLANCES away, grumbling.. ❛ listen, kid, just ‘cause we met each other ONCE before don’t mean you get to start advisin’ me what not to do. i know you think the law works and it does – but criminals still LAUGH at it. there are still places the cops can’t reach – that YOU can’t reach. and that’s where i come in. ❜

“I’m not advising. I’m telling you, it’s my job, I didn’t say I believed you would listen, You’ve been doing this too long. I would just prefer not to see an old Marine, a war hero living out his final days in prison, that’s all. ” The young detective frowned, observing the old vigilante across the table with those same eery dark, intelligent eyes, identical to his father’s, yet softer. Richard didn’t possess that same icy and uncaring gaze that Wilson had always held. As evil as the Kingpin had been in many ways, he had never physically abused his wife or his son as his own father had done to him. Richard was the man that Wilson would have been without the torment of his inner demons he had struggled with.

“You were going to kill him, weren’t you? That day at my mothers house?” The detective asked out of blue, folding his arms, leaning back in his chair. “After Wilson died, my mother never remarried. I don’t think she ever got over him, right up until she died from a stroke two years ago. She talked about you sometimes, wondering what became of you, how you were.” Richard began rooting through the files on the table again, finally picking out what appeared to be a newspaper article with pictures of missing children, placing it down before Castle. “This article was written by a Miss Karen Page ten years ago when she worked for the New York Bulletin. I managed to track her down. She now goes by the title Mrs. Karen Nelson. She now resides in Vermont with her husband and two teenage kids, Lisa and Matthew. I paid them a visit, nice family, but Mrs. Nelson couldn’t provide me with any new information about this old case I’m looking into, I believe we have a serial killer on the loose. Perhaps you could help?”

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@ruthlessnegan

“I’m so sorry Mr. Fisk. Please forgive me. Have mercy....please...”

The old kingpin was silent and stoic. His expression betrayed no emotion as he listened to the young man, down on both knee’s before him, terrified and begging for his life. For forgiveness. But the kingpin had none to give. The man was a traitor and there was only one punishment for treason within the mob. Death. Even after the apocalypse some rules didn’t change.

“Natale, you were like a son to me.....Shame...”

Those were the only words Fisk could utter as he suddenly reached down, roughly grabbing the man, lifting him up and began repeatedly punching him as the rest of his men looked on. After a barrage of violent hits, Natale was left barely conscious, his face blood soaked as Fisk then dragged him like a rag doll towards his large vehicle parked just outside the gates of the Saviors Sanctuary and opened a backseat door. He then shoved down and positioned the badly beaten man’s head against the frame and began brutally smashing the door against his neck.

When the man’s head finally detached from his body, Fisk picked it up by the hair, knowing full well that the noisy commotion would have alerted all those inside the old factory of his groups presence there. The kingpin’s face was splattered with fresh blood as he turned to look over at a man with a bat who was now stood at the gate. He raised the dead man’s head in his hand, displaying his face to the other.

“You know this man? He was working for both your people and mine, at the same time, I believe. Would you care to explain this rat’s actions?”

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“The Sanctuary...” Fisk murmured, his eyes roaming around the inside of the large building, a former factory of some kind. “I’m from NYC, or what’s left of it. Entire suburbs, wiped out. At least, those of us in the mob were somewhat better prepared than most, we take care of our own.”

“The cities are crawling with the biter’s now. It got too dangerous, so I made the decision to leave. Gathered up my men and our families and took off, headed for the Bahamas. I have a place there.” Several men stood behind Fisk, their heads and eyes lowered in respect like submissive wolves, unwavering in their loyalty to the Kingpin. “So now you know what sort of people we are, would you prefer us to leave?”

an   ASTOUNDING   lean  back   and   gleaming   smile   coated   with   clarity.   it  was   time   to   ROAR  &  BOAST   while   looking   DOWNRIGHT   GOOD   LOOKING   of   course.  

        ❝   PLACE  ??  this  ain’t  just  some  ‘ place ‘…  this  is  my  man  is  THE  SANCTUARY  !!  yes  sir  !!        clean  clothes,  fresh  food,  and  best  of  all  ━━  safety  !! yep…  because  ’ protection ‘  is  important.   ❞

       @iamwilsonfisk​​ 

[iamwilsonfisk-blog]

DAREDEVIL WEEK | Day 2: Favorite Relationship - Wilson Fisk/Vanessa Marianna

It won’t be the end, Vanessa; it’s just an inconvenience. Nothing can ever keep us apart.

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“Formally, yes. I suppose you’re the one in charge of this....place...? I didn’t realize anyone else resided here. Myself and my group are just passing through...”

@iamwilsonfisk  /  starter  call 

       ❝   ━━  KINGPIN  ??  that’s  y’re  name  ??   ❞

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( fisk. )

                        Well – this was a series of unexpected events. Frank was more than prepared to put an end to the Kingpin. He’d done his homework and managed to track Wilson Fisk to his private home. But clearly, Frank hadn’t done enough research. Had he done so, he would have known that Wilson was now married to a woman bearing his child. ( He would have learned of a date in which the wife wasn’t at home – making the KILL an easier job to do. )

      Vanessa. She seems rather sweet. It’s almost a shame that Frank plans on leaving her as a widow in due time. He hesitates at first but reluctantly gives in, taking her hand as he gave a gentle shake and a believable grin that he had forced. ❝ It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma'am. I’m Frank. – An old friend of your husband’s. ❞ This was a lie, of course. But she didn’t need to know that. ❝ I can’t thank you enough for allowing me to join you two. ❞

      Fisk’s defensive behavior amuses him. Frank’s never seen the man act this way. Jackpot. He found the one thing in Fisk’s life that would turn his world upside if he ever lost it. It doesn’t even come to a surprise that a woman held this much power over the Kingpin.

      He follows behind, smirks at that death glare given by Fisk. The Kingpin should know better. Frank’s not one to go around harming women or children. Vanessa happened to fall under both. And there wa sno way in hell he’d try anything while she was around. – Best case scenario? Frank would have a delicious meal and learn a thing or two about Fisk to use against him later.

The kingpin was overly protective towards Vanessa as he led her into the dining room, pulling out a chair at the table like an overly tentative butler. This side of Fisk was something he only ever displayed in private, preferring to keep his work and family life as separate as possible. Whilst his wife sat down, Wilson turned, heading over towards the kitchen area, passing by Castle on the way, muttering under his breath. “Well, take a seat....friend.....”

Heading over to a central counter top, Fisk took out some glasses from a cupboard and began looking through a selection of fine wine’s. The room was large and luxurious, a golden chandelier hung from the ceiling and the white walls were decorated with a variety of modern art paintings. In one corner a television was turned on creating some background noise.

An antique couch was positioned before the screen where an elderly woman who appeared to be in her mid-eighties was sat watching a black and white movie. Hearing the group enter the room, she looked around, finally speaking up in a croaky tone of voice. “Wilson, did you finish your homework? I told you before, you couldn’t have your friends over until your homework was done...”  She randomly blurted out, speaking as though her son was still a young child.

Vanessa smiled as she looked across the table at Frank. “Oh, that’s just Marlene, Wilson’s mother, he brought her over from the care home to stay with us for a few days.” Fisk’s wife leaned forwards slightly to whisper to Castle. “Alzheimers disease. She doesn’t know what day it is half the time anymore.” Wilson returned to the table, placing down a glass of red wine beside Frank and some water for his wife, calling over to the old lady. “It’s all been taken care off mother, no need to be concerned.”