cold hearted boy.

abram joseph lee – codename: deimos. a member of elysian, and their interrogator. you know what it's like to be afraid, don't you? you are nothing and no one, and the fear cannot find you here.

[abramxlee]

bartendcrs·:

where?  the founder’s ball when?  the very beginning of the party who?  open to anyone

“wow,” kamilla says, looking at the glass she’d just sipped out of in digust, “you’d think for some rich motherfuckers that they’d be able to afford more than shit like this.” she stares at her glass and contemplates stepping behind the bar herself. how much trouble would that land her in? but she can’t keep drinking this: it’s worse than the garbage she used to serve in barcelona. “but who am i to judge? rich people love lining their pockets, now they can’t even shell out for decent booze.” 

a familiar face, and however sharp she is, that’s familiar too. abram lifted his eyebrows as her voice drifted across him, and he cut his eyes to the glance in her hand that she was so obviously disgusted by. he made a noise, almost a snort, and then glanced towards the glasses dotted across the room, in almost everyone’s hands. “maybe you’re just too picky, nyx,” he said softly, sliding his hands into the pockets of his slacks. the weight of a blade pressed against his side – he’d been patted down at the door but under the three layers he wore and the tape that kept it in place, it didn’t feel any different than the rest of him.

“i’m sure no one would mind better alcohol, but they seem quite happy with what they’ve got now.”

[abramxlee]

sunsctting·:

Lurking around Asphodel and The Warehouse is far different from this, there were crowds to blend into when someone Jason was trying to avoid spotted him and an exit to quickly dart out of whenever he felt uncomfortable enough to leave. But this? Being at Mount Olympus again while the deaths of Harvey and Rafael and the shame of his addictions weighing heavy on his shoulders while being surrounded by things he couldn’t have? It was almost torture. In fact, he was sure that Luli had invited him to simply to rub it in his face. After all, why else would she have done it? He was no longer a part of Olympus, no longer peddling drugs and no use to anyone, and everyone he knew here either had business to attend to or likely hated him.

With a flute of water in hand, he skirted off to the edge of the ballroom, admiring the decorations with bittersweet nostalgia. Glancing into the crowd of important people, he felt almost small… Even invisible, maybe, before he made eye contact with someone he had once known. Everything screamed at him to run away, only a few steps to the exit, but his legs took him straight to who he had seen as though his own body had betrayed him. With his heart nearly bursting from his chest, he gave them a wary smile.

“Hey, did you miss me?”

there was a part of him that wanted a cigarette in between his fingers, that wanted to grab one of the champagne flutes and throw it back – but he wasn’t intent on self-destruction tonight, and he needed to keep his wits about him. so instead he drifted, listening in on conversations, eyes quietly scanning from one side of the crowd to another. you had no idea what you could find out in a place like this until you went for it, but still – his skin was crawling just from being around this many people.

abram lee had long ago learned the art of fake it til you make it, and his smile had been honed into a weapon, so when gazes lingered too long or he felt himself growing far too uncomfortable, he let his lips split into something sharp and excused himself to circulate again.

a heavy breath slipped through his teeth, and abram lifted his eyes just in time to catch the gaze of a face he hadn’t seen in so long – but not one he had forgotten. he’d never forget jason knight, not after the funeral, not after watching him fall apart and feeling so angry it had burned out everything else in him. now, abram knew that it wasn’t really anger he’d felt that day, but jealousy. he had been so jealous that jason could fall apart like that, but he’d only ever admitted it to himself.

abram cocked his head gently to the side as jason approached him, and calling him apollo felt so strange, so instead he let his eyes drift to their feet. “hello, jason,” abram said, eyes carefully lifting back to the other man’s face. abram scrutinized him, taking in the healthy weight in his cheeks, the life behind his eyes. he didn’t look hollowed out anymore. he looked...better.

“you don’t look like death anymore,” abram mused, tilting his head again. “this place can’t be easy on your...sobriety.” a dig, and one that made abram’s mouth twist afterwards – he hadn’t wanted to say something like that. but he wouldn’t apologize, there was no point – “how are you holding up?” fuck.

[artemis51]

[abramxlee]

cerberusfelicia·:

date: september 22nd location: founder’s ball status: closed for @abramxlee

“God it’s been forever since I’ve been to one of these,” Felicia mumbled under her breath, turning her gaze to face Abram. “Do you think I should throw my heel at the chandelier? Turn this into a bad rendition of Phantom?” She smirked sly to herself, eyes taking in the extravagance of it all. She didn’t know Harvey well enough, and she didn’t try to go out of her way to interact with him. But now here she was, at a ball in his honor. “Did you know him well?” She asked him, setting her gaze down on a plaque listing the good he had done for the city. “All that money donated and the MTA is still shitty.”

“if you do decide to go full phantom, let me know so i can get out of the way,” abram said softly, eyes staying away from felicia and on the crowd instead. “i’d rather not dig glass out of my own skin. you know how it is.” he cut his gaze to her finally, blinking once and then looking away again. “i think i’ve been every year since i joined,” abram murmured. “it’s not surprising how many people have blackmail material and tickets to this.”

he let out a quiet breath at felicia’s question, and wondered again why the two of them seemed to drift together – and why she wouldn’t just leave him alone. it had made him uncomfortable at first, but now...

did you know him well? he smelled like a predator, smelled like a threat, left me with a tight throat and cold sweat running down my back – i never looked away from him because i didn’t trust him, and i didn’t want to get eaten alive. i never went near him because i didn’t trust him, and i couldn’t stand the memories.

“i didn’t know him well. wasn’t high enough up the totem pole.”

[abramxlee]

hypnoidize·:

DATE & TIME: september 22nd, 10:30pm LOCATION: founder’s ball  STATUS: closed for @abramxlee

once you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. the big lights, the crystal chandeliers, champagne flutes; taffeta gowns and pressed ties. how eyes look from over wine glasses, how breaths are held and tensions are ever-so high as the night progresses.

how horribly boring. 

usually he gets paid for these things, makes his nights a little more worthwhile. a quick scan of the room has red lips lifting ever-so-slightly, focusing on a tall figure not too far from him. 

at the very least, he deserves to go home with wallets just a smidge thicker, no? he makes his way over to the man, traces soft fingers along the line of shoulders before facing him, smile still ever-sweet, rosebuds blooming. 

“my angel,” he tilts his head slightly, coquettish. “have you perhaps followed up on that client i asked about some time ago? it breaks my heart to know that some think that they can fuck me for free, like some sort of common whore. to think i got down on my knees for them, truly.” 

he stops when he looks at the other closer - collar slightly skewed, hair still windswept - eyes move up to the red smudge just behind ears, boy reaching to wipe the blood away from skin. 

“got a little carried away, sweetheart?” cleo brings the now-stained finger to his mouth, smiles around new splotch that mars his lips. “i do hope that was for me.” 

abram feels uncomfortable in any situation where he doesn’t have all the information, and there’s a slight burning in his chest as he breathes in. the ice is spreading and he can feel the prickles in his fingertips. 

he is a boy made of ice and snow. he can almost imagine the frost escaping with his breath, his lips slowly turning blue, and the image almost entertains him, echoing in the shadowy chasm in his chest where humanity used to rest. he knows that something is happening tonight. it’s the perfect opportunity for it, and things have been happening behind the scenes – but once again, he has strangely been left out, left behind.

left behind again.

the rage is the strongest emotion he still feels, anger making the ice harden inside of him instead of melt away. he’d been promised a bigger cut of the pie with elysian, a chance to finally show his stuff – a fucking seat at the goddamn big kids’ table. and here he was, lost in the crowd, his ‘date’ having melted away the second they’d arrived. he’d used them as a ticket to get in, blackmailing them with the knowledge he had of their affair with their driver – it was that affair that had made them a little late, and his own...business to care for. he hadn’t meant to let it drag on so long, but the fact of the matter was, his rage had burned too bright and he’d taken it out on the only thing he could – the person who’d stiffed hypnos.

he’d gotten the money. he always did. he always followed through. it was his intention to get it back to hypnos by the end of the night, but he knew he’d been found when the other’s familiar voice reached him, fingers stroking just barely against his shoulder and making him bare his teeth for just a second.

abram turned quickly, the ice cracking, stomach rolling, and met cleo’s eyes, his own narrowing. and then cleo is reaching for him again, touching him again, and abram turned his head away sharply, resisting the urge to grab their wrist and twist it away from him as hard as he can. still, something shows on his face, a twitch, the echoes of something. “payment in full has been received, and i can pass that along to you at any point when it won’t cause a stir,” he said, stiffly. he glanced around them at the crowd, brow lifting just slightly as he realized the gazes they drew – everyone was always looking at cleo, weren’t they?

considering, cold, calm – his mask was back in place. “is there anything else i can do for you? anything that doesn’t involve you touching me?”

[abramxlee]

Abram Joseph Lee, better known as Deimos – the lead interrogator and collector for Elysian. A boy made of steel and ice, hollowed out on the inside. There are cracks in his armor and a blade in his hand – and when he smiles, it means you should run.

broken crown. (olympus) for the most part, when you graced the halls of the mount olympus hotel, eyes slid right by you as if you did not even exist. something in that grates at you, but it’s so far down underneath the emptiness that it doesn’t really matter anymore. this person’s eyes stuck on you, though – found something in you to pay attention to, or recognized at least some of your potential. they saw you, and you saw them – and you have not forgotten them. they have a neat little file in your mind, and you’ve tucked any physical information about them into your copy of to kill a mockingbird, hidden in the stacks upon stacks of your books. you may not play for their team anymore, but you will always be open to a deal for new information – and if this person came to you, you wouldn’t hesitate.

something in the way. (olympus or neutral) (could be more than one person and be developed further) a deal gone bad, or someone you have a little bit too much information on – you know that they are not all that they seem to be, and you have been waiting for the right chance to potentially exploit that. you are the knife at their back, and you’ve always been intent on collateral damage. you want to know what they know, and you want to use it. it may not be smart, crossing battle lines like this, but you won’t miss an opportunity to further the cause of elysian – or yourself.

doom days. (elysian) (could be more than one person and be developed further) you’ve never known a home, but asphodel is as familiar as the walls of your apartment, and you guess that familiarity is as close as you’re going to get when it comes to this. they are a face you always see when you step through the doors, as familiar as your own, but you cast your eyes to the ground before you catch their gaze. familiarity breeds contempt. that’s wrong, isn’t it? that’s right, isn’t it? familiarity didn’t breed contempt with ares (rafaelrafaelrafael) and you do not want to break again. avoidance. it’s safest, yes? whatever.

hellfire. (elysian) smile, smile, smile – you’re a nightmare, abram, don’t you know that? they’re afraid of you, even if you’re supposed to be on their side. they don’t trust you, but that’s good on them. you aren’t to be trusted, after all. it’s almost...amusing, to be feared in this way. it tickles at the chasm in your chest, but the feeling is fleeting. rage is the strongest thing you feel, but it’s an echo of everything you’ve lost. what’s so scary, hm? they don’t answer, but you smirk, just a little bit, and resist the urge to claw at your own face.

[abramxlee]

december 23rd, 2017 (11:59 pm)

dead eyes in the mirror and cold hands wrapped around the porcelain of the sink – dark circles under his eyes so deep he could fit all of his belongings in those bags.

a sick smile twisting across his lips, his own fingers clawing at his mouth in a desperate effort to make it go away.

one quiet minute ticking by.

“happy birthday, abram.”

[olympians-hq-deactivated2021022]

DEIMOS

✘. Name: Abram Lee ✘. Age: 26 ✘. Gender/Pronouns: cisgender male, he/him ✘. Affiliation: Elysian ✘. Occupation: Collector/Interrogator ✘. Faceclaim Suggestions: Woo Do-Hwan Aaron Tveit, Dudley O’Shaughnessy, Im Jinah, Jodie Comer, Úrsula Corberó

THE STORY

Count the seconds — three, two, one— and smile, smile, smile. The lowly know you only grant them these three seconds to comply. When you show them your teeth, they understand their choice to defy was the wrong one. You always ensure money owed is paid in full, and you are meticulous in drawing out the details to aide Hades in this war. Olympus never granted you the chance to thrive, and now, should any of them decide to threaten you, the power to display what they’ve lost is finally in your hands. And yes, you have Hades to thank for this. But your gratitude has always been short-lived, and the throne has always called to you. The day will come where Hades makes the wrong choice too. And when that moment arrives, you will bare those fangs and smile, smile, smile.

BIOGRAPHY (CHILD ABUSE TW, RAPE TW, DEATH TW, VIOLENCE TW, BLOOD TW)

Keep reading

[aangs]

“I felt calm, in control, older. Nothing could touch me, and nobody did.”

— Chelsea Hodson, from “Tonight I’m Someone Else: Essays,” publ. c. 2018 (via violentwavesofemotion)

[emmascreamqueens]

“I would not get personal with me sweetheart. I don’t fight fair.”

[keldabes]

if i was an animal, i’d be an eyelash viper. if i was an art medium, i’d be music, played softly from a room away. if i was a color, i’d be silver. if i was a cryptid, i’d be the jersey devil. if i was a drink, i’d be whiskey, straight. if i was an element, i’d be air, clean and clear and true. if i was a flower, i’d be anemone. if i was a genre, i’d be horror. if i was an instrument, i’d be a busted up keyboard. if i was a planet, i’d be mercury. if i was a season, i’d be winter. if i was a type of weather, i’d be the bitterly cold nights with no snow and no air in your lungs.

[rpxmusings]

                                WHEN I CALL MYSELF A SHELL, I MEAN :                                                                 //  a used up bullet casing                                                 //  the aftermath of something lethal                                                                 //  an echo of inflicted evil

[musingmatata]

“You sleep coiled; tightly wound. Hands are fists beneath pillows, clenched above cotton sheets. You are at war, even in your dreams.”

— Rest Achilles, the world will wait | p.d (via p.d vulpe)

[keldabes]

a mostly chronological playlist following a man who uses his smile as a weapon. we start in olympus, fresh off the streets, jagged edges and dead-eyed. we move slowly into a settling, but know that nothing olympus gave him could ever be good enough. the cracks in the foundation, the changes – and the loss. ares’s death, and olympus’s split into elysian. from there, we go towards the modern day, and where the man is now, and what that means for the rest of us.

                   you know what it’s like to be afraid, don’t you?

now playing…

[wordsnquotes]

You wear a mask for so long, you forget who you were beneath it.

Alan Moore, V for Vendetta (via wordsnquotes)

[sundaevintage]

[keldabes]

you know what it’s like to be afraid. you know what it’s like to be terrified. but you left that in the past and you’re stronger for it. you are nothing and no one, and the dread cannot find you here. you learned how to be cold as a child, and you learned how to be a weapon as you grew. your teeth are sharper than theirs and you bare them in a smile.

smile, smile, smile.

you’ve made a home for yourself in the dark, and you do not fear death. you are death, after all.

abram joseph lee. deimos.