Devil

idk how often I’ll be around this week due to aforementioned irl stuff but it should be over by the weekend.

          Akin to an animal curious of an outsider’s intentions and actions, Wade’s head tilted ever so slightly to the right, cocked to a small angle with masked eyes ( whites only; the blue hidden away and shadowed by what some thought terrifying and others an omen for death ) staring directly into the mystery man’s own. He did his homework, always did. It was what made him a true threat to even the most powerful men alive. Hell, if the X-Dorks had called upon him, he knew he wouldn’t a single problem with elimination Apocalypse without any outside influences. 

          Maybe he was just boasting his own pride again, though.

so are we going with him? do we truly have a choice? pff, what’ll happen if we don’t? we would be shot, likely without hesitation for it to be a fatal wound, and moved before we could voice a single objection so when we wake up, we kill everyone. problem solved and if we wake in SHIELD headquarters? those fuckers owe us one

          Silent to the boxes and their astute observations ( particularly Yellow’s, no offense to White ), the mercenary continued to pinpoint each flaw with the situation, each moment he would have to either kill or injure his possible captor past normal capabilities, but ultimately he retreated for what felt like an hour in his mind to assess the matter at hand: attend with this gun-wielding man to wherever he was to be carted to, or murder him and risk the worst of the backlashes. In truth, it was mere seconds, perhaps a minute if one pushed it. 

          And after that minute, his head tilted back to its comfortable position and turned to follow the man’s orders in silence. All the while, the voices chattered and his mind worked much like a hamster wheel without the rodent.

so we’re joinin’ him? what a gyp! on the contrary, we are choosing the most viable option english? imbecile. this is the safest route to proceed with we suck when we’re right

                                        “Hey, MR. GUN, ya’ gonna tell me                                         EXACTLY where we’re goin’? Don’t                                         like bein’ OUTTA THE LOOP.”

John was acutely aware of the merc’s habit of...what was it, thinking? Thinking to himself. It was like he blocked everything and everyone else out, though John wasn’t sure of exactly what Wade Wilson thought. He only knew that it was something he did after the weeks of watching him prior to that moment. It was an uncomfortably intimate knowledge that he honestly wished he didn’t notice, because it could mean his ‘captive’ (really, if Wilson wanted to, he could kill John with his hands alone and abscond) was plotting (all the ways to murder him; John didn’t want to be murdered on this insane fucking job).

He was startled a bit out of his own reverie by Wilson’s voice, cocking a brow slightly. “It’s Mister Wick, Mister Wilson, and I told you,” John said as they approached his ‘69 Mustang, “--someone wants you incarcerated. Not by the police, obviously.” Like a gentleman, John opened the passenger side door for Wade, ushering him in (or at least trying to usher him in) before heading to the driver’s side of the vehicle. A cigarette was procured from the glove compartment, shoved unceremoniously between his chapped lips and lit with a cheap zippo.

“I’m only delivering you to my client. I also suppose I might be asked to keep watch, but that wasn’t in the deal. Not yet, at least,” he explained, leaning his head back against the seat like he simply wanted to sleep right then and there. John inhaled deeply, breathing smoke from his nose away from Wade out of consideration. “Thankfully it’s not another fu...” John breathed deeply. “Another warehouse. Mister Tarasov’s house is rather comfortable.

‘Then the world is colder than even I suspected.’ Came Alex’s thought in response to John’s first comments. He kept quiet though, merely watching the other man trying to puzzle him out. 

He was relieved when John climbed back over the rail and stood, once more, safely above the river. He had been acutely aware that at any moment John could tip slightly forward and just… let go. It had put him on edge. Now with that possibility made much less likely, Alex was able to relax a bit more. He fished his own packet of cigarettes and lighter out of his pocket. 

Alex nodded at the question. “I was a priest. I left Church not that long ago, but the instincts are still stuck. Priests try to run towards a person in pain rather than away from them… or at least that’s what I was always taught. But I left recently enough… not sure what you’d call me either.” Alex’s mind provided several labels: Other, Sin-Eater, Cursed. “I guess we have that in common…” 

He still couldn’t quite place what was so off about the other man. There was definitely something different about him, but Alex couldn’t place what it was. It was at that point that Alex noticed the other pedestrian giving them both a wide berth as they walked past, glances dodging, refusing to alight on John’s face or person. Alex frowned, wondering. 

With a nod of his head towards the city, John began slowly walking away, urging Alex to follow so they could continue to chat. “Come on. That spot has seen enough sorrow in its lifetime. Might want to let it rest for a while,” he said offhandedly, sucking on the filter of his cigarette and letting out another slightly-too-dark plume of smoke from between his lips.

“Sorry we met under...odd circumstances, Alex. People only usually pay attention to me when I’m on a job, or when they become too wary. It’s...better that way, I think. You,” John said, jabbing a finger in the ex-priest’s direction, “--you’re different. I don’t think it’s because you used to be a priest, either. I’ve had many men of faith ignore me all the same, or at least try to ignore me.”

She nodded. “I believe that’s what the general public calls it, yes. For me, its simply another source of food.” The vampire slowed down, coming to a halt. She could hear their steps were no longer hitting solid ground and could hear the trickling of a small fountain. The bottom of her cane slid forward, brushing the stone of the bridge. She leaned against it and tilted her head.

A slightly embarrassed chuckle lilted from her. “I would say she was the…spark that helped propel me forward.” The blind woman said. “I’d been wanting to do that since our second meeting.” She paused. “Mm, no, dear. Same perfume as always.” She smirked up at him.  “But I’m glad you like it.” 

John hummed quietly, thinking about the logistics of energy feedings. He didn’t think he could do it; he felt certain energies, sure, but being around people just seemed to slightly drain him. The thought was brief, however, and John focused all of his attention on the Mistress, letting a faint smile touch his lips.

Otherwise, gotta sleep so I be alert for my bio test tomorrow and lots and lots of grocery shopping!! And then late at night, muh drafts and starters.

She sits down, her long skirt bunching up around her knees, and she can’t help but feel a little shy.  It’s been years since she’s been so close to someone and it’s the first time she’s been so close to John.  They’ve always been an arm’s length apart.  Close enough touch, yet they never did.

She’s always known that John is tall, but sitting on his lap makes her realize just how small she is compared to him.  It’s almost comical.  If she wasn’t so caught up in the moment, she’d make a joke about it.

Mari listens to his words.  They weave their way into her rib cage, twisting around her heart, and part of her hurts for him, because he thinks that he doesn’t deserve kindness.  Oh, if he could see what she sees in him.  If only he could realize the kindness that’s buried inside of him, too.

Her free hand moves to rest on his collarbone.  Fingertips brush over the glowing lights beneath his shirt as he presses the kiss to the corner of her mouth.  “You deserve kindness,” she murmurs.  “You have been kind to me, too.”

Like John, she changes, though her attributes are more subtle.  Blue eyes turn darker, more soulful, the eyes of a creature who has loved and lost and loved again. 

The hand on his cheek brushes over the faint scar like line on his jaw.  “I was lonely. Before you.”  There are so many other things she wants to say, but she can’t find the words in any of the languages she knows. 

She’s both elated and terrified.  She swears that her hands are trembling.  A shaky breath escapes her and she leans close to kiss the scar on his jaw.  She finally finds the words she was looking for.

“Eg elski teg.”

I love you.

John’s jaw tenses slightly under Mari’s touch, because that’s the part of him that makes him a monster, makes people afraid. But she trusts him and that’s important. She isn’t afraid, even though he could hurt her so easily in this moment, open his jaws wide, make her bleed. The mer’s slowly beating heart feels like it’s being squeezed out of his chest at the simple, utter trust and gentleness the woman on his lap his giving him.

He lets his eyes slip shut at the kiss, hands finally moving to caress over Mari’s shoulders and eventually settling on her hips. John just...holds her there closely, inhaling the selkie’s warm scent that’s always tangled with the sea breeze. “It always ends. Don’t want it to,” he mutters, sorrow lacing through his voice. Every time he’s gotten involved, every time he’s let himself open up to someone else, they either leave or...

Or otherwise get hurt. And he’s never there to stop it, or he can never do enough to stop it.

When he finally opens his eyes again, John looks at Mari, tracing her features until he memorises them all. He doesn’t answer her in her other language because he doesn’t know it, but something about the way it’s said digs in and takes root deeply.

“My job is dangerous,” John says like maybe she’ll reconsider and figure out it’s not such a great thing being involved with the guy known as the literal Boogeyman in his line of work. He hasn’t told her all the details, but the day he came into the lighthouse with clothes covered in blood and a loaded gun, he figures she must know at least something is up.

edit: THAT INCLUDES STARTERS I OWE. Which I will write this weekend. I have those written down and didn’t forget about em. :)