» and finally, the birthing of the 𝐢𝐥𝐥-𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭; the prodigal son. no prison can keep him.
𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥’𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐧.
Joined September 2018
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» she never would've understood you; t̲̲h̲̲e̲̲ ̲̲r̲̲e̲̲a̲̲l̲̲ ̲̲y̲̲o̲̲u̲. and society won't either.
it punishes people like you— 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙪𝙨.
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WILSON FISK.
marvel roleplay. based on the daredevil series. mature content. rt?
> was willing to carry out every single oh so gruesome threat.
“I sense such ferocious hatred in you. It’s nothing like before when we first met. That feeling keeps you awake at night, doesn’t it?
You came here because you wanted to convince yourself that killing me >
> the blind attorney, though still keeping his distance.
“You’re so mistaken, Matthew,” the man in the white suit continued, “you once beat me — but at what cost? Now I’m after you and your friends. And I will 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 stop.” He meant it. Wilson Fisk meant every word, >
“Did you 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 think it would be that easy? That I would just let you go?” Wilson said with dry laugh, drawing himself up to his full height as soon as Matthew walked towards the locked door that would lead him outside. And while speaking, he made a few steps towards >
“I didn’t regret killing my father. I didn’t regret killing Ben Urich or letting Frank Caste wreak havoc on this city.
I’ll never regret anything, Matthew.
You know that.
You know me.
I’ll never change...
And the only way to beat me is... KILLING me.”
> back by his side. Still, he noticed that Vanessa was emotionally distant with him. Something was bothering her. He knew it when looking into her eyes.
“I’m with you but can see loneliness in your eyes,” he said softly.
“You know you can always talk to me about anything, >
The lawsuit had been dropped. He had the entire FBI twisted around his finger while also letting the citizens of Hell’s Kitchen believe that Daredevil was their true enemy. And most importantly: Vanessa was back.
Wilson had done all of it just to see her again, to have her >
> Wilson began, nodding towards the men behind Agent Poindexter. Once the artwork was its rightful place, he admired its beauty and absorbed its calm.
“She died quickly, I assume?” Fisk had spotted the splatters of BLOOD on the frame rather quickly.
His eyes widened upon seeing the precious painting again. The last time he’d seen it he forced himself to accept that he would never see it again. This gift didn’t make undone what’d happened, but it was definitely an apology he would accept.
“Let them hang up the painting,” >
> Franklin Percy Nelson. I’ll even burn down that church you’re seeking shelter in — yes, I know.
And once I decide that I’m finally done with you, I’ll end your miserable life the same way I ended that Russian’s.”
> him.” Wilson paused for just a moment, glaring at Murdock. A snarl was on his face.
“I’ll make you experience all of it again; the pain, despair, hopelessness, loneliness and guilt. I’ll take everyone you have left away from you, everything you hold dear. Karen Page and >
> much did it hurt when your father died? Did you cry yourself to sleep for months? Prayed to God so he’d make the pain stop? His death tore your heart apart, didn’t it? And you must’ve felt so alone. A blind child with no mother or father, no perspective... no one who loves >
> trying to word his response so Matthew would understand it. He watched the lawyer with such wild rage visible in his shadowed eyes. Every word that had left Murdock’s mouth was right. Of course he had done it for her.
Even monsters need someone at their side.
“Tell me — how >
Wilson gritted his teeth against the demand of his lungs to burst while listening to the other man’s words. And he clenched one of his fists so tightly under the table that his knuckles turned white.
Don’t...
Don’t you 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 dare uttering her name.
Fisk remained silent, >
> he? Well, his attempt might be successful. For that painting means indeed so much to him.
“Go on then,“ was all Fisk said in response before drawing himself up to his full height, hands clasped behind his back after buttoning his white west up.