🕷 ⊰ that’s not fair. he’s speechless, but he still refuses to withdraw. if anything, the other only enraged him, so much that he tenses. it’s this again. it’s this misunderstanding that he could never seem to escape from. it’s like high school, and college, and every instance of skepticism in the street. tossing the blade into the air, he immediately webs it to the nearest lamp post before spewing another string of webs at deadpool’s handgun and snatching it. just to get it out of the way. if the man was that desperate for it back, he could get it himself.
but not so fast. another second passes and the vigilante grabs the man by the collar, pinching his fingertips into the cloth of the other’s suit. and then jerking him down enough so they’re at the same eye level. “you coward.” his tone is rash, and he doesn’t even know why he’s so tense over this matter, but he is. he is because it means something to him. because he didn’t ask to become this spider-mutant that serves justice for people– but he’s capable of it, and that’s why he does it. that’s why he’ll never be able to stop. “we all have a choice. sure, some of us may not decide we wanted to have superhuman strength, or start sticking on walls, but we choose how we use what we’re given. no one’s making you kill anybody. that’s what you decided to do. what you chose to do. i don’t care if it’s for money. you can make money doing something else. so don’t you ever– EVER– make the excuse that someone chose your side for you.”
abruptly, he shoves the man away, but there’s a lot more force than he anticipated. yet, he’s unfazed by his strength, too blinded by the anger to care, really. “if i have to hunt you down every day so you can’t kill anybody, then i will. so you might want to start looking for another job.” with that, he disarms the magazine from the handgun before dropping the weapon and drawing a step back. there’s a pause before he leaps up into the air and allows his webbing to carry him away. tomorrow’s gonna be a long day.
Yadda-yadda. How boring. It wasn’t like Deadpool hadn’t heard any of this before-- by now, he had developed a resistance to it. He just didn’t care anymore. Sure, there was the fact that Spider-Man’s words sounded vaguely foreboding, but Seokmin was a reckless man. It came with the whole healing factor thing-- when you were basically an immortal, it was rather difficult to care about such ‘trivial’ things as your body. Spider-Man could hunt him down and fight Deadpool all he wanted. At the end of the day, the mercenary could always drag himself off to some hideout, heal, and be back in action within a few days time. Coupled with the other nuisances the vigilante had to be dealing with, Seokmin figured he’d have plenty of time to himself and his activities. Nothing to worry about there. Watching the other boy swing away, the assassin whistled to himself, before picking up his gun, and gazing up at the sword attached to the lamppost. “That fucker--” He muttered to himself, before hoisting his body up on the pole to reach it.
In the back of his mind, Seokmin was somewhat worried about the other’s words. Spider-Man was clearly very passionate about being on what he deemed to be the right side of things. Deadpool sometimes wished that he was like that too. But it was hard-- not when everything in his life had built up to him being like this. Not when his reputation was already this sullied. Heroes -- people like Spider-Man -- were good people, on the inside and out. Seokmin was not. He was ugly on the inside, just as he was on the outside. No matter how much he wanted it, he would never be on par with someone like Spider-Man. The masked vigilante already thought of Deadpool as nothing but a greedy murderer. And murderers didn’t get to be heroes.
In the blink of an eye, a new day arrived, and Seokmin had already dismissed all the memories of last night from his mind. New day, new you; right? He had already done away with the first three people on his list. Now on to number four-- who happened to be camping out near the famous SNU. How annoying. Too many possible witnesses. Then again, if there were any, Deadpool could just kill them. No biggie. He had already cornered the gang member and was gleefully approaching the man, swords clutched in both hands. “You know what I always say?” He sang, still creeping forward. “The first step to a good assassination is to have fun and be yourself! And I’ll be having fun, alright--”
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