SAVIOR / OPPRESSOR !

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐞𝐥𝐭𝐲.   independent,  mutuals only,   plot oriented writing blog for wilson fisk of netlflix’s daredevil.  est. 2015,  21+ only.  written by mikel.  standard etiquette applies.  read below for blog specific rules.  

him turning back towards the same mirror only minutes later with vanessa by his side and seeing himself in that full white suit looking as pure as the driven snow after telling her, “the self deception of a vain man—that the only reason why i love you is because of the way i see my reflection in your eyes. that thought... it fills me with dread.”

           her gaze never wavers as she listens, fingertips drumming against the outer edge of the desk she’s propped herself against, her head occasionally nodding, the width of her smile in flux  —  but she provides no further insight as to what she may be thinking. at length, she straightens, crossing to the other side, hand alighting on the back of her chair with a soft smile cast in his direction, gesturing toward the seat adjacent to him.

             ❛    please, feel free to have a seat.    ❜    & she waits for his compliance before she does so herself, perching at the edge of plush leather as she folds her hands atop wooden surface, blue gaze settled on his features with due respect    —   while theirs is a distant acquaintance, she’s familiar enough with him to understand the profitability of lending this hand in exchange for reciprocity in the future : the mathematics total themselves.     ❛    i am familiar with the figures,  yes .  .  .  & those you’ve affected with your   —   attention,  are difficult to miss. you’ve done well for your city. i admire that tenacity  .  .  .  i’m sure you know the CWI is in the process of expanding our mission overseas, but we haven’t forgotten the necessity of brightening the future at home. a company is only as clean as the ideals which inspired it    .   .  .      of course, you must also know i have a bit of experience in drafting legislation similar to what you seem to be suggesting .  .  .     ❜      head inclines, smile gaining a distinctly joking quality as she names the obvious  —  he wouldn’t be here otherwise. and that’s not to touch the fact that she has the ear the majority whip.        ❛    it would be an honor even to consult with you on your efforts, wilson. we can always make time for positive change.   ❜

though  he  wouldn't  bow  his  head  ,    wilson's  eyes  danced  across  the  floor  in  untraceable  patterns  while  it  had  been  his  turn  to  speak  ,    only  glancing  upwards  to  meet  her  gaze  out  of  one  part   courtesy   and  one  part  the  earnest  desire  to  inflict  the  intent  of  his  words  and  the  gravity  behind  them  .    he  only  realized  that  his  fingers  had  drifted  towards  his  cufflinks  when  he  let  his  hands   relax  at  his  sides  .    though  he  is  not  gifted  at  reading  people  from  surface  alone  ,    when  he  was  finished   he  took  to  watching  for  responses  through  the  language  of  her  expression  and  movements  .

wilson  does  a  subtle  double  take     towards  the  seat  he'd  been  offered  before  he  took  it  ,    tinkering  with  the  lapels  of  his  jacket  while  he  settled  into  place  across  from  her  .     outside  ,    james  wesley  stole  a  glance  through  the  glass  wall  of  the  office  before  he  looked  down  and  smiled  at  his  phone  .    if  wilson  allowed  his  mind  to  wander  elsewhere  ,    he   too  might  have  noticed  the  implicit  weight  of  a  step  in  the  right  direction  .   

The older man speaks of truth and integrity, and the contrast between that and the depiction of him portrayed by the media becomes clearer than ever. The cold, villainous manipulator he’s read about could never be aligned with such concepts, and yet Fisk offers them up so firmly, almost reverently that it gives Bayor a moment’s pause. He’s long since learned that the world is far too stubborn to be neatly tucked into categories of black and white. That shit is in technicolor, and there’s a near endless cornucopia of shades to be reflected in every individual that’s shuffling along the easel’s surface.

Bayor’s always been good at reading people, at finding what mess of hues cling to them, but even so, Fisk seems to be a tough nut to crack. He’s pretty certain that that’s very much on purpose; a man like Wilson Fisk probably can’t afford to be wearing his heart on his sleeve at all times. Politics and high end business are no places for a bleeding heart, nor is the criminal underworld if those things are to be believed, and yet there’s still this air of sincerity that Bayor can’t help but to focus on. Hell, the guy was honest enough to say he’s never even read the blog beyond the fact that it is a blog. Beyond the sincerity, there’s a hint of…desperation to the delivery of the request despite the dignified and controlled air that the older man maintains in the ask. It ingratiates Bayor and makes him thinks that this is something that he genuinely wants to be a part of.

It’s true; he’s really no kind of journalist to any real degree, he just takes pretty pictures and says things are cool. Even so he’s willing to give it a shot, and the terms are more than fair: He can write what he sees as he sees it as long as he doesn’t post any of it prematurely. Even when you’re willing to put the truth out there, it makes sense that one might want to see what someone’s about to say or write about them before it becomes available for public consumption and scrutiny. After a brief pause, he gives a nod and holds out his hand for a shake to seal the deal.

“You got it, dude. Nothing goes out there without you takin’ a look at it first. I think this is gonna be fun, or as fun as something like this could be anyway. But I want you to be open with me. If we’re gonna do this, then I need to, like, do it right. I want people to know you, that behind all the rumors, and the lies, and the accusations, and even the very real and terrible things you’ve done, there’s gotta be a guy there. A guy that wants to do better and be seen as better, but I can’t show that to anyone if you’re not upfront with me, right? So I agree to this, and to your terms, but if you shake my hand right now you’re signing up for real and open honesty. Can you do that?”

❝   of course.   ❞    fisk  answers  with  haste  ,   as  hesitancy  does  not  favor  his  circumstance  ,    and  what  would  strike  as  an  error  of  his  long  established  ,    pensive  behavior  is  smothered  by  his  distinguishable   sureness .    however  ,    neither  men  are  yet  indebted  to  one  another's  principles  ,  for  fisk  does  not  shake  ocampo's  hand  as  soon  as  it's  offered  to  him  ,    his  own  having  been  placed  on  the  table  but  his  palms  remaining  flat  upon  the  surface  with  his  thumbs  hovering  as  far  back  as  they  could  without  fully  encompassing  a  state  that  is  unnatural  .    or  at  least  ,    unnatural  to  fisk  himself  ,    as  any  outside  consciousness  of  his  own  peculiarity  rarely  touches  him  ,   even  though  he  is  not  entirely  blind  to  it  .   he's  not  yet  looked  at  ocampo  again  ,    attention  still  trained  on  the  city  beyond  the  glass  ,    the  silhouette  of  neglected  architecture .    the  mirage  that  no  longer  chains  him  with  intangible  conflict  ,   ambition  having   filled  the  shoes  of  his  dread  and  intending  to  travel  upon  a  much  greater  path  ,    as  is  his  prerogative  .   ocampo  is  a  small   but  hopefully  serviceable  facet  of  fisk's  intent             and  wilson  fisk  has  suffered  the  ramifications  of  his  own  negligence  enough  to  refuse  any  further  nearsightedness  that  may  obstruct  the  transcendence  of  his  former  self .    so  when  the  other  man's  silence  and  later  proposal  becomes  an  after  the  fact  subject  of  fisk's  own  reflection  ,    his  vacant  eyes  fall  ,    the  light  that  deflects  itself  from  the  city's  skyline  oscillating  with  his  thoughts  over  his  outermost  display  of  wistfulness  .

there's  a  story   deep  inside  the  ink  of  the  bible  ,     and  time  seems  to  shift  in  the  favor  of  fisk's  musings  .     he  wonders  what  ocampo  would  do  with  the  undiluted  truth  if  he  were  to  give  it  to  him  .   if  the  other  man's  conscience  has  evolved  enough  to  embrace  it  .    if  he  would  be  blinded  by  the  shape  that  fisk's  own  convictions  had  taken  ,     but  in  the  same  breath  consoled  inside  the  shadow  it  cast  ,    be  it  made  of  doubt  ,    or  the  freedom  of  living  in  darkness  .    unseen  but  unchained  from  the  quixotic  cast  of  probity  .    fisk  has  by  no  means  ever  considered  himself  christ  like  in  that  regard ,    but  all  the  same  ,   the  thought  draws  a  twitch  to  the  side  of  his  mouth  that  ocampo  cannot  see  .     he  looks  to  ocampo  now  ,   focused   more   in  the  vague  direction  of  his  face  rather  than  looking  him  directly  in  the  eye   while  he  waves  a  hand  as  if  to  usher  the  younger  man's  patience  ,    or  maybe  turn  a  page  .

❝   i'm           soon   to   be   exonerated  ,    by   the  federal  government  .   ❞     his  thumbs  fall  upon  the  table  with  a   sound  of  finality  .     ❝    the  fbi  has ...     finally ,    been  drawn  to  the  conclusion  of  my  innocence  ,    and  while  i'm  not  at  liberty  to  discuss  the  matter  with  the  press  at  this  stage  ,    i  promise  you  the  earliest  exclusive  ,   for   your  ....     your   blog .    but   what  i  want  from  you  ,    mister  ocampo  ,    is  actually  ...   much  more    complex  ,   than  that  .    i  worry  that  my  false  conviction   might   translate  to  the  public  as   a  ...    an  institutional  failure  ,    on   the   side  of   the   federal   government  .    and  that  the  ...    injustice  ,    will  incite  outrage  .      ❞    his   eyes   flicker  back  down  to  the  table  between  them  .

      *   @adiutorwesley  i am by no means the wesley expert here but i do need to do a bit of background on this to fully project my headcanon, lol: the thing that interests me about him is that he’s not… really meant to be an evil character? he may be arrogant, and he may be willing to look the other way when more gruesome methods become the only option he has left, but he’s first and foremost a civilized, nearly diplomatic man that’s just doing his job, and standing by his friend. so i don’t think that wesley had any kind of criminal background prior to working for fisk, because that’s not really his niche. 

i’ve got this headcanon that wesley probably worked somewhere in the political sphere as a consultant or something of that nature on the campaigns and administrations of people that were involved with fisk either legitimately or illegitimately prior to working directly for fisk himself. wesley has a strategic mind that is trained upon public and internal relations, like handling the media and also representing fisk to their criminal syndicate in season one. he’s quick to consider and act upon the interests of fisk’s vision and fisk himself at every angle. it would make sense, him working in politics or just public relations in some capacity. 

but the thing is that wesley isn’t necessarily, like           a visionary?  it probably would’ve been the structure and the game of politics that interested him more than the idea of being an instrument of change. i don’t think that wesley would’ve cared all that much about the power to be gained through politics, either. he’s just an incredibly intelligent man with very good strategic abilities to him and that would’ve been an obvious way for him to utilize them. and fisk has a very good eye for talent and how to put it to some use that suits him, as we witnessed in both season two with frank castle and season three with benjamin poindexter. so if we were to consider the idea that wesley was working as a consultant or representative to a politician that fisk was doing direct business with, it would’ve been nearly impossible for wesley’s exceptionalism to go unnoticed, and fisk would have most certainly saw the value of a person like wesley in his line of work. 

as i said before,  i don’t think that wesley would’ve really been in the game for the nobility of being a public servant of some kind anymore than he was working for fisk just for the satisfaction of breaking the law and doing terrible things. he’s just doing a job, which he likes to do because he’s good at it, since wesley seems to really thrive off of being useful and is very bitter when he’s not allowed to be. so i don’t think that it would’ve taken much convincing from fisk to bring wesley into something as elaborate as a criminal underworld, since he seems to be fairly indifferent about his work so long as he’s doing it, but fisk is nothing if not convincing anyways lol. i headcanon that wesley had been working for fisk for about seven years since the start of daredevil season one. i think i read that number in a fic and it just stuck with me. also, i love the idea of fisk hiring wesley literally right before he moves his projects overseas to asia and asking him to become fluent in all the common tongues by the time that they set up shop there… peep wesley doing a duolingo crash course on a twenty hour flight to hong kong.