*  𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦

it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel.

[darkenmity]

# 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐦𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲  ╲  AN   EXPLORATION OF   …    forbidden passions , chains of power    ,    pride’s destructive descent , sacrifice without absolution , power's ruthless dance , & honor’s shattered reflection .    ╲    a dependent    blog    affiliated    with   revengeofthesinnershq   ,   endured     by  nova

CASSIUS KINGSLEY. thirty-three . don for pentavita. lucien laviscount. / biography.

GIDEON VOSS. forty-two. lead cyber-crimes detective. henry cavill. / biography.

STEPHAN RYAN. thirty-two. head assassin for nocturne. vic mensa. / biography.

BLAIR DAVENPORT. twenty-seven. cyberware specialist for the assembly. daniella taylor. / biography come soon.

[ofmoonlightx]

This was certainly a side of Gideon that Leon hadn't seen. More so because he was composed. Much like Leon, they only ever showed emotion when it came to the importance of their work and the people they care about. That was something they both had in common. However, reacting with anger, letting emotions get the best of him, would cloud his judgment. Though the emotion Gideon displayed was reflected in Leon.

Leon didn’t rise to match Gideon’s anger. His gaze was steady, the quiet weight of his expression carrying more than words. “Hera doesn’t belong in a cell, and we both know it. She’s the one person who’s kept this department standing when everything else fell apart. If the Veil thinks they can drag her name through the mud and make us swallow it, they don’t know her—and they sure as hell don’t know us." Us, meaning P.A.C.E., they want to paint her as their scapegoat; they surely messed with the wrong people.

He hadn't tapped into the person he was before PACE. Before he had settled down as a detective. The operations of his past pushed him to do things that could not be named. Looks like he would have to revisit that part of himself. The person who had accepted him had seen his potential, the chaos that came with him. She had welcomed it, told him his skill was beneficiary, not something to be ashamed of. Hera was the backbone, the foundation, and he would bring hell on earth to anyone who would try to destroy it. Destroy what she had built.

“We know where the truth stands, Gideon—and it isn’t with their lies. I trust her.” His gaze held firm on Gideon’s, calm but unyielding, loyalty written clear in the weight of it. Leon had always moved in step with Hera; if she stood, he prepared, if she acted, he’d have the plan. They were reflective. If she even thought it, he was already moving. After a beat, he exhaled, tone softening just enough as he pushed himself up. “I’ve got strong tea if that’s more your speed.” He made for the kitchen, the simple act grounding the tension between them.

"I'll follow the trail." That was his specialty, being hidden, blending in, and he had a few people he could use that owed him. Gideon could run the diagnostic aspects, but people often spoke when pressured. Leon’s expression stayed even, though a trace of worry cut through the calm. "I will track their evidence Gideon. I was an Undercover Operative for a reason." he didn't know how much Gideon knew of his file, or if that was something also hidden under wraps. "I’ve got a lab tech in evidence control—quiet, but sharp enough to catch when the chain of custody doesn’t line up. There’s a badge admin at City Hall who still owes me; if someone’s been rewriting access logs, he’ll see it. And if that fails, I’ve got a courier who runs evidence drops—drivers notice details reports conveniently leave out. If the Veil tampered with the trail, one of them picked it up.” There is always a system with these type of jobs. Leon was going to trace it.

In that they were in agreement, they trusted their own. P.A.C.E and no one else. Leon nodded his head when Gideon wanted to run this past their organization. "We're going to clean house, they just don't know how well we really work." he gave a small smile. A very rare one, when push comes to shove, they would fight this fight. "Someone is bound to slip."

"You don't frame someone unless it's for your own gain. Keep your friends close but enemies closer. What have we learned about victims? more than the majority know their attacker. She was getting close." Who else is close to the department? Who would give her permission to investigate? What he did know was that she was getting close to a rival gang. She had mentioned Nocturne. He couldn't rule out the Mayor's department or politics either. "Why does anyone commit a crime, for their benefit and to simply watch chaos unfold."

He didn't want to think about a trial, but if that had to happen, he knew a damn good lawyer who would fight on her behalf. "We're going to protect her name, Gideon. She has faith in us, and she's much stronger than both of us combined."

[darkenmity]

gideon  stayed  standing  even  as  leon  moved  toward  the  kitchen,  his  hands  braced  on  the  back  of  a  chair  like  he  needed  the  anchor.  his  face  was  drawn  tight,  eyes  shadowed  from  too  many  nights  running  down  leads  that  always  ended  in  walls.  there  was  a  rawness  to  him  now,  not  loud,  but  carried  in  every  word.

“she  doesn’t  belong  in  a  cell.  she  doesn’t  belong  in  headlines  either.”  his  voice  was  low,  rough,  but  steady.  “the  veil  picked  the  wrong  person  to  throw  under  their  weight.  hera’s  the  one  holding  the  line  when  half  this  city’s  too  scared  or  too  bought  off  to  try.  she  built  something  out  of  nothing—kept  it  alive  when  the  rest  of  us  were  already  burned  down  to  ash.”  his  jaw  clenched,  his  hand  dragging  once  across  the  stubble  of  his  jaw  as  though  it  could  wipe  away  the  gnawing  churn  in  his  chest.

he  shifted  finally,  lowering  into  a  chair  but  restless,  fingers  tapping  slow  against  the  table.  “i’ve  been  her  eyes  for  years,  leon.  if  there  was  a  storm  coming  down  on  her,  i  should’ve  seen  it  first.  that’s  the  part  i  can’t  shake.”  his  voice  tightened  there,  the  honesty  cut  raw.  “feels  like  i  failed  her.  feels  like  they  got  a  step  ahead  because  i  was  too  damn  focused  on  chasing  the  wrong  trail.”

he  exhaled  hard,  the  sound  rough  through  his  nose.  “you’re  right—framing  someone  isn’t  random.  it’s  targeted.  it’s  leverage.    they  want  to  crack  the  foundation.  break  her,  they  break  p.a.c.e.  the  veil  doesn’t  have  to  outgun  us  if  they  can  blind  us.  they  knew  exactly  how  this  would  play.  the  public  eats  it  up.  mayor  gets  his  scapegoat,  the  commissioner  waves  a  press  release,  and  suddenly  the  city  thinks  the  rot’s  been  cut  out.  meanwhile  the  real  bastard’s  still  breathing.”

he  leaned  forward,  elbows  braced  on  his  knees,  eyes  fixed  on  leon  like  the  words  themselves  were  a  vow.  “ it can't be a coincidence they picked hera, its the perfect distraction but from what?” that was the question the one gnawing at him since the new broke. he had a suspension during the beach party. but why did it feel like figuring out the real murder only played into the veil's hand. they would get hera out of this he knew they would. but they needed to find the veil. or the cycle would continue.

he  went  quiet  for  a  beat,  the  weight  of  his  thoughts  pressing  heavy  into  the  silence.  when  he  spoke  again,  his  voice  was  softer,  not  weaker,  but  threaded  with  something  rarer—earnestness.  “you’re  right,  too.  she’s  stronger  than  both  of  us  put  together.  but  strength  only  gets  you  so  far  when  the  whole  city’s  primed  to  believe  the  lie.  if  it  comes  to  trial…”  he  shook  his  head,  eyes  flicking  away  as  if  the  thought  alone  cut  deeper  than  he  cared  to  admit.  “we’ll  fight  it.  every  angle.  i  don’t  care  if  it  means  dragging  every  crooked  politician  and  half  the  mayor’s  office  into  the  light.  we  don’t  stop  until  she’s  clear. we don't stop till we find this veil and bring him to the light.”

his  gaze  came  back  to  leon,  hard,  steady,  but  with  something  burning  beneath  it.  “she  put  her  faith  in  us.  we  don’t  get  to  let  that  go.  if  that  means  going  to  war  with  the  veil  and  the  city  council  in  the  same  breath then  so  be  it.  i’ll  burn  the  whole  rotten  system  to  the  ground  before  i  watch  them  take  her  apart.” the  silence  after  carried  more  weight  than  his  words,  but  his  eyes  told  the  rest.  he  wasn’t  just  speaking  as  a  detective  or  as  a  member  of  p.a.c.e.—this  was  personal.  it  always  had  been.  

[wasdaring]

she  didn't  want  to  admit  just  how  much  he  meant  to  her.  saying  it  out  loud  made  it  real,  and  reality  was  a  terrifying  thing  to  be  faced  with.  one  wrong  move,  one  untrustworthy  set  of  ears  overhearing  it  ...  they  could  be  doomed.  and  natalie  recognized  that.  still,  she  didn't  want  to  let  go  of  him.  walking  away  from  stephan  wasn't  an  option  for  her.  he  was  the  only  person  for  her.  the  man  knew  her  inside  and  out,  understood  her  on  a  level  that  nobody  else  ever  would.

protesting  would  be  a  moot  point,  the  woman  realized  that.  yet,  the  thought  of  him  meeting  an  untimely  demise  or  suffering  at  the  hands  of  someone  else  made  her  chest  ache.  the  brunette  didn't  think  she'd  survive  that  type  of  anguish  a  second  time.  she  clung  to  him,  fingers  grasping  the  fabric  of  his  shirt  tightly,  refusing  to  let  go.  she  didn't  want  to  hear  him  talk  like  that,  didn't  want  to  envision  a  reality  in  which  similar  events  wound  up  occurring.  “  i  won't  ever  forgive  myself  if  something  happens  to  you.  ”

“  that's  not  what  i  want,  ”  she  protested,  swallowing  thickly.  the  most  unsettling  thing  was  the  fact  that  she  knew  he  was  being  truthful.  she  couldn't  help  but  wonder  how  little  he  valued  his  own  life  if  he  was  so  willing  to  lay  it  down  for  her.  she  held  stephan's  gaze,  lips  parting  slightly  to  argue,  but  she  stopped  herself.  there  was  no  use  in  trying.  it  was  abundantly  clear  to  her  that  he'd  already  made  up  his  mind.  “  you're  so  stubborn,  ”  she  murmured.

their  lives  were  chaotic,  their  worlds  full  of  danger.  it  wasn't  lost  on  her  that  there  was  a  very  real  possibility  of  them  meeting  a  fate  similar  to  levi,  or  to  anyone  else  that  they'd  lost.  still,  natalie  tried  to  not  think  that  way.  she  didn't  operate  by  constantly  dooming.  “  don't  say  shit  like  that  to  me.  ”

i  love  you.  the  confession  was  so  simple  for  some,  but  not  for  her.  life  would  never  be  sunshine  and  rainbows  for  them,  it  would  always  have  an  element  of  danger  to  it.  she  doubted  they'd  ever  be  truly  safe.  she  kissed  him  back,  one  hand  releasing  its  hold  on  his  shirt  to  settle  against  the  nape  of  the  man's  neck.  when  he  pulled  away  she  sighed  softly.  “  i  never  stopped,  either.  ”  the  admission  left  her  lips  without  a  second  thought.  “  'course  i'm  yours,  ”  she  readily  agreed.  and,  truly,  she  was.  nobody  else  could  fill  the  space  in  her  heart  reserved  for  him.

when  he  kissed  her,  she  could  almost  deceive  herself  into  believing  that  no  time  had  passed  between  them.  almost.  her  grasp  remained  firm  as  she  allowed  herself  to  deepen  the  kiss,  her  silent  way  of  showing  him  just  how  much  she  needed  him.

[darkenmity]

the  laugh  came  rough,  half-choked  on  the  weight  in  his  chest,  more  breath  than  sound.  his  hand  stayed  braced  against  her  back,  fingers  digging  in  like  he  was  anchoring  himself  to  her,  like  if  he  let  go  she’d  slip  through  his  grip  and  he’d  lose  her  all  over  again.

“you  think  i  don’t  know  i’m  stubborn?”  he  rasped,  mouth  curling  into  something  sharp  but  his  eyes  softening  at  the  edges.  “that  shit’s  in  my  bones.  i’d  rather  break  than  bend,  and  you  damn  well  know  it.  so  don’t  waste  breath  tellin’  me  not  to  stand  in  front  of  you,  even  if  we  end  up  across  a  fight  one  day—hell,  even  if  you’re  the  one  swingin’  at  me—i’ll  still  find  a  way  to  keep  you  safe.  can’t  turn  it  off.  not  with  you.”

he  tilted  his  forehead  against  hers  again,  the  press  heavier  this  time,  his  jaw  flexing  like  the  words  were  being  dragged  out  raw.  “you  don’t  get  it.  i  already  lost  you  once.  that  broke  me  in  ways  prison  never  could.  so,  yeah—i’ll  take  the  hit,  the  bullet,  the  blade.  i  don’t  care  if  it’s  the  veil,  pentavita,  or  the  whole  goddamn  city  gunnin’  for  us.  they  can  try.  but  i’m  not  lettin’  ‘em  write  the  ending  for  us.”

the  protest  on  her  lips  made  him  huff,  a  crooked  grin  flashing  quick  before  fading  under  the  heat  between  them.  “  you’re  the  one  who  makes  me.  you  got  me  sayin’  shit  i  swore  i’d  never  let  slip  again.  and  i  don’t  regret  a  word.  you  love  me?”  his  thumb  brushed  the  hollow  of  her  throat,  slow,  reverent.  “then  you  already  know—i  never  stopped.  not  a  day.  not  a  breath.  you’ve  been  under  my  skin  since  the  start.  nothin’  could  scrape  you  out.”

desire  crept  in  like  fire  licking  up  dry  timber,  unstoppable  once  it  caught.  he  caught  her  mouth  with  his  again,  deeper  this  time,  pulling  her  flush  to  him  until  the  ache  of  years  apart  blurred  into  nothing  but  the  heat  of  her  lips.  every  kiss  tasted  like  a  vow,  like  he  was  sealing  promises  straight  into  her  skin.

his  arm  slid  under  her  knees,  sweeping  her  up  in  one  motion  and  placing  her  in  his  lap,  strength  effortless  but  the  hold  careful,  protective.  “mine,”  he  growled  against  her  mouth,  but  the  word  came  rough  with  need,  not  possession.  he  carried  her  like  nothing  else  in  the  world  mattered.  just  her  heartbeat  against  his,  her  breath  mingling  with  his  own.

he  kissed  her  again,  slower  now,  softer,  mouth  lingering  like  he  was  memorizing  the  shape  of  her.  when  he  finally  broke  away,  his  eyes  burned  with  that  same  fierce  devotion  that  had  never  left  him.  “tonight,”  he  said,  voice  low,  chest  heaving,  “it’s  just  us.  no  fights.  no  fear.  just  you  and  me,  nat.  that’s  all  i  want.  that’s  all  i’ve  ever  wanted.”  and  with  her  in  his  arms,  lips  brushing  hers  like  a  prayer  he’d  never  learned  to  say  out  loud,  every  worry  dissolved  into  the  dark,  leaving  nothing  but  the  fire  they  carried  for  each  other.  

[wasdaring]

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 ; @darkenmity pre - discussed starter.

she  wasn't  the  type  to  forget  a  face,  even  if  she'd  gone  years  without  seeing  said  face.  they  went  to  school  together.  their  parents  ran  in  similar  circles.  holly  approached  her  slowly,  kind  smile  spread  across  her  features.  they  might  not  have  been  extremely  close  or  anything,  but  no  bad  blood  existed  between  them,  either.  they'd  simply  lost  touch,  and  there  was  nothing  wrong  with  that.  it  happened,  she  was  well  aware  of  that.

“  blair,  hi,  ”  she  greeted  the  other.  “  i  haven't  seen  you  in  a  long  time.  ”  the  announcement  wasn't  necessary,  but  it  slipped  out  before  she  could  stop  it.  she  wouldn't  ask  how  the  other  was  doing,  though,  considering  she'd  heard  about  what  happened  to  her  brother.  it  felt  like  the  question  would  be  foolish  to  ask.  “  what  have  you  been  up  to  ?  ”  it  felt  like  a  more  safe  question  to  ask  than  the  one  most  people  went  for,  even  when  they  knew  the  answer.

[darkenmity]

blair’s  eyes  flicked  up,  recognition  sharp  and  immediate.  she  tilted  her  head  slightly,  a  ghost  of  a  smile  tugging  at  her  mouth,  the  kind  that  carried  both  familiarity  and  a  touch  of  irony.

❝  holly.  wow.  either  the  city  finally  shrank,  or  we  just  got  sloppy  at  avoiding  each  other.  ❞ she  shifted  her  weight,  arms  crossing  loosely  over  her  chest,  expression  dry  but  not  unkind.

❝  long  time  is  an  understatement.  what  have  i  been  up  to?  same  thing  as  everyone  else  —  pretending  adulthood  isn’t  just  one  long  group  project  where  half  the  team  doesn’t  show  up.  ❞ a  pause,  her  gaze  softening  a  fraction,  enough  to  thread  a  little  warmth  into  her  deadpan.

❝  but  really  —  i’ve  been  working,  keeping  myself  entertained.  you  know  me.  always  had  a  talent  for  staying  busy.  what  about  you?  still  making  it  look  easy?  ❞  

[midncghtxrain]

"if i wasn't this hungry, i'm sure this wouldn't be entertaining." she pointed out, a small smile forming on her lips as she picked up a slice of her pizza. with not getting much time to have a lunch break at work, she was hungry. normally she would have gone home instead, and cooked something there. but not tonight. not when she had gotten off work not long ago. "you would actually hack into the delivery system?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

[darkenmity]

❝  hack  it?  sure.  but  why  waste  the  effort  when  i  can  just  watch  you  stress-eat  like  it’s  performance  art?  ❞  she  leaned  back  in  her  chair,  tilting  her  head  as  though  she  were  running  mental  code  just  for  the  fun  of  it.

❝  besides,  it’s  not  about  the  pizza.  it’s  about  watching  some  poor  delivery  guy  try  to  explain  how  your  dinner  teleported  from  the  oven  to  the  wrong  address.  that  kind  of  chaos?  worth  more  than  the  pizza  itself.  ❞ her  eyes  flicked  to  the  slice  in  the  other’s  hand,  voice  dropping  into  an  almost  conspiratorial  deadpan.  ❝  don’t  worry,  though.  i’ll  let  you  keep  your  little  carb  fortress  in  peace.  consider  it  my  good  deed  of  the  day.  ❞  

[reveriixs]

“Excuse you, I could totally be a plant mom. I just choose not to, because killing succulents is bad for my brand.” Her lips curled into that signature feline grin, one that was equal parts charming and unapologetically smug.

She twirled the peony she’d picked up, holding it aloft like a prize. “Besides, tell me you don’t feel at least ten percent prettier just standing in here. The lighting alone does half the work. Forget growing my own—too much dirt under the nails. I’ll take overpriced beauty in a vase, thank you very much.”

Her eyes flicked over, dark and playful, as she gave Blair a once-over. “And please, coffee over bourbon? That’s a crime. Bourbon is character development. Coffee just keeps you awake to suffer through it.” She stepped closer, lowering her voice like she was sharing a scandal. “Though, given how bitter you already are, maybe coffee’s the safer bet. Don’t want to imagine you with whiskey in your system.”

A beat, then her grin sharpened as she nudged Blair’s arm with her elbow. “So, you judging me, or you actually here to buy something? ‘Cause if I’m going down the ‘basic flower bitch’ route, I'm not going alone. We’re picking out hydrangeas for your kitchen—non-negotiable.”

[darkenmity]

blair’s  laugh  was  more  air  than  sound,  a  quiet  exhale  that  still  managed  to  drip  with  irony.  she  eyed  the  peony  like  it  had  personally  offended  her.

❝  poor  decision-making  with  good  eyeliner  is  definitely  more  your  brand  than  gardening,  ames  ❞

her  gaze  skimmed  the  shop,  landing  on  the  hydrangeas  with  surgical  disinterest. ❝  guess  that  makes  me  eighty  percent  immune  to  whatever  spell  these  things  are  supposed  to  cast.  dirt  under  the  nails  builds  character—same  as  bourbon,  apparently.  but  me?  i  like  being  awake  for  my  suffering.  makes  it  efficient.  ❞  the  nudge  earned  amelie  a  sideways  glance,  equal  parts  flat  and  fond.

❝  fine—get  the  hydrangeas.  but  when  they  die,  their  funeral’s  on  you  ‘cause  if  i’m  going  down  as  a  basic  flower  bitch,  you’re  getting  the  blame.  ❞

a  pause,  her  lips  tugging  just  enough  to  betray  the  smile  she  tried  not  to  wear.  ❝  coffee  after  this.  i’ll  even  let  you  order  your  tragic  bourbon  just  to  keep  the  brand  alive.  ❞

[burningxheaven]

Kinny: Okay good. I'll let him know. I'd really like it iof you two can get on the same page Kinny: Yeah, yeah, you are right. I want him to ask me. Either way my answer is yes Kinny: wouldn't it be so fun to plan a wedding? Kinny: I should start it Kinny: just stuff about dad and him back in the past. Shit dad did to him and all that Kinny: did you know? its okay if you did. ik you try to keep dad's shit from me

[darkenmity]

steffy: we'll see how it goes, the most i can promise is that i try steffy: of course im right i know you. you seem sure about him so guess talking is on my list of things to do where he's concerned. steffy: fun for who? fun for you sure . for me that is debatable . steffy: i didn't know what dad did but it didn't surprise me. fucker is a piece of work. steffy: we won't have to worry about him fucking with anyone else so don't worry about Kins

[burningxheaven]

Killian knew things, things others didn't, especially with the upcoming fate of Gideon. He wasn't going to disclose what he knew. Kelly pulled the chair out from across from him, letting the feet scrape against the tile floor, slowly. He spun the chair around and sat in it backwards. The tone of the man's voice was ocy, as if he was trynna display power and gritt, but Kelly saw through every man. "Are there any updates in Levi's case?" He was out with it, not wanting to dangle around the truth. "Are you guys even trying?"

[darkenmity]

the  question  was  one  he’d  heard  too  many  times  to  bother  counting.  after  a  while  it  all  turned  into  background  noise—like  a  gnat  buzzing  too  close  to  your  ear.  annoying  until  you  swatted  it  dead.

“what’s  been  reported  is  what’s  been  reported,”  he  said,  cool,  steady,  eyes  lifting  to  meet  the  younger  man’s.  “any  updates  come  from  the  mayor  and  the  commissioner.  that’s  the  system—red  tape,  no  real  answers till there are some .”

silence  held  a  moment,  his  gaze  fixed,  weighing  the  kid  before  him.  then  he  shook  his  head  once,  slow.  he  knew  the  words  would  land  on  deaf  ears  anyway.

“best  thing  you  and  any  of  your  people  can  do  is  keep  your  noses  out  of  it.”  his  tone  didn’t  rise,  but  the  warning  was  there,  quiet  as  a  loaded  gun.  “though  i  know  that’s  a  tall  order  in  this  city.”  

[wasdaring]

coffee  had  become  a  staple  of  sorts  for  him.  he  didn't  think  it  did  all  that  much,  he  liked  the  taste  of  it  after  he  made  it  iced  and  added  some  flavoring  to  it.  it  was  a  routine,  and  jack  didn't  mind  having  one  of  those.  he  worked  out,  showered,  grabbed  coffee  then  began  his  day.  that  was  how  he  did  things.  he  looked  over  his  shoulder,  never  ran  with  both  earbuds  in  and  remained  vigilant  of  his  surroundings.  his  routine  was  a  reminder  that  he  was  still  fine,  that  he  got  to  spend  another  day  doing  what  he  wanted  to  do.  he  hadn't  meant  to  disrupt  the  other,  he  was  just  minding  his  own  business,  coffee  cup  in  hand  as  he  debated  whether  or  not  he  wanted  to  stay  and  drink  it,  or  take  it  to  go.  clearly,  his  internal  war  with  himself  had  gotten  the  attention  of  the  man,  even  if  that  had  not  been  the  goal.  he  nodded  slightly,  acknowledging  the  man's  words.  “  morning,  ”  he  greeted,  his  tone  even.  he  hadn't  gone  in  there  looking  for  small  talk,  but  he  wasn't  entirely  rude.  “  you  enjoying  your  coffee  ?  ”  what  the  fuck  kind  of  question  was  that  ?  he  had  no  idea.

[darkenmity]

he  could  see  the  man  wrestling  with  something—didn’t  need  to  pry  to  know  the  signs.  the  tension  around  the  mouth,  the  way  silence  stretched  too  long.  gideon  figured  it  probably  looked  the  same  on  him  most  days.  that  searching  for  words  when  small  talk  wasn’t  on  the  agenda.

that  was  why  people  like  defne  weren’t  the  worst  company.  small  talk  came  easy  to  her  kind;  all  he  had  to  do  was  grunt,  drop  a  line  or  two,  and  the  silence  felt  filled.

“i’ve  had  better,”  he  said  finally,  voice  low,  honest,  unvarnished.  he  lifted  the  cup,  took  another  sip,  let  the  bitterness  settle.  “then  again,  i’ve  had  worse.”

the  pause  that  followed  stretched,  quiet  hanging  in  the  air  until  he  broke  it,  eyes  slipping  back  down  to  his  phone,  thumb  skimming  the  screen  out  of  habit  more  than  need.  “place  is  out  of  the  way.  figured  i  could  take  a  breather  before  heading  to  the  precinct.”

he  let  that  hang  a  moment,  then  tossed  the  man  something  more,  voice  steady  but  carrying  that  dry  edge.  “friend  of  mine  put  me  on  to  it.  the  scones  are  worth  the  trip.”  

[nighttvpes]

"oh don't even get me started," she huffed, fluttering her fingers with their cherry-red polish through the air between them. "if i got into all that, we'd still be standing here when the lunch rush hits tomorrow." laughter bubbled up before she could stop it — part nerves, part genuine amusement at herself. honestly, what was she doing bringing up her love life with a coworker? there had to be an HR training video somewhere that very clearly advised against this exact scenario. but here she was. too caffeinated, too overwhelmed, and truthfully, too tired to care.

“never thought about it?” she echoed, half-shocked, half-teasing. “astrology rules my life. i check my horoscope the way most people check the news.” defne barely seemed to notice the nyc chaos. this was her element...talking too much, walking too fast, fully invested in a subject most people politely rolled their eyes at. “right off the bat? you’re giving earth sign energy,” she declared, eyes moving over him like she was reading something written on his forehead. “grounded, practical. but also, there’s something going on under the surface. maybe you’re an air sign in disguise. or water.” she glanced at him sideways, already knowing he probably didn’t believe in any of it. didn’t matter. she liked guessing. liked seeing what people did when they were seen in weird, soft ways. “i’d just need your birthday,” she added casually, one brow lifting. “unless that’s, like, classified information.”

his silence after i’m here — that hit different. her steps faltered, barely, like her body registered it before her brain did. she didn’t expect him to hold her gaze like that. didn’t expect the weight of it. most people just nodded and moved on. he didn’t. “surprises aren’t always good,” she echoed lightly, almost to herself. “but…yeah. some of them are worth it. hopefully we can get a few good surprises in this city.”

they reached the edge of the sidewalk. she already liked the look of the place. it wasn’t fancy, not cold or curated. just warm. lived-in. the kind of place that didn’t try too hard. “hm. maybe i will,” she said, glancing over at him, her grin tugging back into place. “after i judge the food. obviously.”

[darkenmity]

“probably  something  to  speak  on  another  time.  i’ve  only  got  an  hour  for  lunch,”  he  said,  the  joke  dry  on  his  tongue.  the  truth  under  it  was  sharper—his  so-called  romantic  life  had  been  left  behind  a  long  time  ago.  he  knew  too  many  cops  who  tried  to  juggle  it,  second  or  third  marriages  hanging  by  threads.  a  handful  made  it  work,  but  gideon  had  learned  the  hard  way—an  estranged  wife,  a  daughter  he  barely  saw—that  the  job  always  found  a  way  to  win.  less  messy  that  way.  you  knew  the  stakes.  but  the  cost…  he  carried  that  weight  every  day  in  his  bones,  in  the  quiet  moments  no  one  saw.

he  cleared  his  throat,  leaning  back  just  enough,  watchful  eyes  fixed  on  her  as  she  gave  him  a  reading.  the  corner  of  his  mouth  edged  toward  something  close  to  amusement. “i  don’t  know  shit  about  horoscopes.  i  hardly  remember  my  own  birthday,”  he  said,  the  rough  timbre  softened  with  that  dry  light  he  rarely  let  slip.  “safe  to  say  giving  you  my  birthday  means  you’ll  file  me  under  classified  information—birth,  temperament,  and  whatever  the  hell  else  you  dig  up.”  a  beat  of  mock  challenge,  his  gaze  steady  on  hers.  “march  seventeenth,  ’83.”

he  didn’t  believe  in  stars  or  signs.  always  sounded  like  snake  oil  for  people  who  wanted  excuses  for  the  choices  they’d  already  made.  but  still,  he  was  curious  enough  to  see  if  her  reading  would  hit  anything  close  to  the  mark.  people  always  looked  for  answers—through  god,  through  science,  through  the  sky.  always  trying  to  make  sense  of  the  why.

“i’d  like  to  think  we  will,”  he  said  after  a  pause,  quieter  now,  voice  carrying  a  steadiness  meant  to  convince  himself  as  much  as  her.  “it  can’t  always  be  like  this.  change  comes.  hopefully  for  the  better.”  his  eyes  flicked  to  the  street,  jaw  set.  “problem  is,  change  doesn’t  arrive  clean.  it  drags  the  worst  of  the  storm  with  it  first.”

he  thought  about  instinct,  about  the  way  animals  knew  before  the  sky  broke  open.  they  felt  danger  coming  and  ran.  humans—humans  walked  straight  into  it,  like  proving  themselves  against  the  fire  was  worth  the  scars.  he’d  never  understood  that,  not  really.

at  the  door  of  his  favorite  mom-and-pop  joint,  he  stepped  ahead  and  held  it  open,  a  rare  smile  breaking  through  the  grit.  “just  keep  your  judgments  down.  ms.  cherlyn’s  protective  of  this  place,”  he  said  with  a  chuckle,  nodding  toward  the  small  café  alive  with  spice  and  warmth.  “but  i’ve  got  a  feeling  you’ll  like  it.  read  it  in  my  crystal  ball.”  his  grin  tilted  wry  as  he  gestured  her  in.  “after  you,  ms.  aydin.”  

[ofmoonlightx]

While he didn't let people show up at his home, the second the news hit regarding Hera. He wasn't at all surprised to hear Gideon knocking on his front door. He opened it, watching Gideon pass through like the calm before the storm. Leon's own emotions reflected in the expression Gideon gave.

"As far as I know, protective custody," he had to talk through a chain of people to gather that intel. He didn't trust anyone but P.A.C.E. He was going to dig through his organization connections to help her.

“The mayor’s playing to the crowd, Gideon." he wasn't even sure if the Mayor was being played as well here. "Hera’s an easy fit for the story they want. Doesn’t make it true. Whoever put this together knew exactly what buttons to press. We dig quietly, follow the seams, and let the lie unravel itself. That’s how we make it stop.”

Jaw tightening, he didn't like this, and he sure as hell was pissed. Hera was getting close to the truth, and they decided to put tape over her mouth. When Gideon mentioned surveillance tape and the fake video. "You'd find digital fingerprints, her badge access, emails, things that would show she was nowhere near the crime scene." if they were to look at badge access, emails, and find it too clean, or falsified entries, that would indicate tampering.

"I did speak with her before, she told me she doesn't have a solid alibi, her fiancé was out of town. She was at home at the time of the murder," he looked over at Gideon. "She wants us to start with checking her cell phone ping to track her location."

[darkenmity]

gideon  sank  into  leon’s  space  like  he  carried  the  storm  with  him,  shoulders  broad  and  tight,  the  air  bending  around  the  weight  of  his  unrest.  his  jaw  ground  against  the  silence  between  them  until  his  voice  broke  through,  rough-edged,  scraped  raw.

“we’re  not  talking  about  some  easy  story  the  city  can  swallow.  we’re  talking  about  justice.  and  it’s  gone  missing.”  his  hand  dragged  across  his  mouth,  thumb  pressing  hard  against  the  scar  of  old  habits.  “if  they’re  setting  her  up  as  a  scapegoat—”  he  cut  himself  short,  teeth  clenching.  the  thought  of  it  burned  in  his  gut.

he  moved  the  way  a  caged  thing  did,  pacing  the  room  in  slow,  clipped  strides,  every  step  heavy  with  the  truth  he  couldn’t  shake.  hera  wasn’t  just  another  name  in  his  case  files.  she  was  the  one  he’d  stood  beside,  night  after  night,  when  the  city  seemed  too  damn  loud  to  breathe.  he’d  poured  her  whiskey  when  she  asked,  listened  when  she  spoke  about  what  could’ve  been,  what  should’ve  been.  he’d  given  up  drinking  since,  traded  the  bottle  for  bitter  teas  and  water,  but  the  ritual  had  stayed:  her  voice,  his  silence,  the  unspoken  pact  that  he’d  keep  watch  when  she  couldn’t.

“she  bends  the  law,  sure.  but  break  it?  for  her  own  gain?”  his  head  shook  once,  sharp,  final.  “never.  not  her.”  his  eyes  flicked  up  to  leon,  dark  and  rimmed  with  fatigue.  “hell,  if  i  hadn’t  sworn  off  the  bottle,  i’d  already  have  a  glass  in  my  hand.”

the  tablet  came  out  with  a  scrape  across  the  table,  his  fingers  moving  like  muscle  memory.  “i’ve  got  a  contact  in  the  cia.  not  stationed  here,  but  close  enough.  sent  me  some  demons—lines  of  code  their  analysts  use  to  trace  tampering.  i  can  run  it  through,  have  results  by  tomorrow.”  the  words  were  steady,  but  his  eyes  betrayed  him,  restless,  chasing  shadows  even  leon  couldn’t  see.

still,  the  hollow  in  his  chest  didn’t  ease.  “it  won’t  be  enough.  even  with  evidence  in  our  hands,  it  won’t  be  enough.  not  against  the  story  they’ve  built.”  he  stilled  then,  breath  tightening,  the  protector  in  him  fighting  the  detective.  hera  was  p.a.c.e.—his  partner,  his  responsibility.  more  than  that,  she  was  his  eyes  on  the  dark  corners,  and  he  hers.  and  now  she  was  the  one  in  the  crosshairs. “we  need  that  autopsy  report  again.”  his  voice  dropped,  quieter  but  sharper,  like  glass  under  pressure.  “something’s  off.  too  neat.  i’d  rather  run  it  through  our  setup  than  trust  the  precinct  to  hand  us  scraps.  p.a.c.e.  was  built  to  clean  house.  time  to  prove  it.”

he  looked  back  to  leon,  frustration  etched  into  every  line  of  his  face.  “why  her,  leon?  why  frame  the  one  person  actually  trying  to  make  this  place  better?  veil  never  cared  about  making  examples  out  of  people  like  her  before.  they  went  for  gangs,  syndicates,  rot.  now  it’s  hera.  doesn’t  fit  their  damn  playbook.”  his  fists  clenched,  knuckles  blanching.  “feels  like  a  personal  strike.  like  they  want  to  blind  us  before  we  can  see  what’s  really  coming.”

his  gaze  dropped  for  a  moment,  almost  softer,  the  truth  breaking  through  the  anger.  “if  this  goes  to  trial…  if  they  drag  her  name  through  the  mud…  i  don’t  know  if  she  walks  out  the  same.  i  don’t  know  if  the  city  will  ever  let  her.”

[darkenmity]

𝙸𝙽𝚃. 𝙻𝙴𝙾𝙽’𝚂 𝙷𝙾𝚄𝚂𝙴, 𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙴 𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 status, closed — @darlingrevenge

the  news  hadn’t  even  cooled  on  the  broadcast  before  gideon  was  at  leon’s  door,  knuckles  sharp  against  the  wood.  he  didn’t  wait  for  a  greeting—just  stepped  through  the  second  it  opened,  shoes  kicked  off  in  the  entryway,  the  storm  written  plain  across  his  face.

“do  we  know  where  they’re  keeping  her?”  the  words  were  low,  rough,  pushed  out  like  they  burned  in  his  chest.  he  moved  deeper  into  the  room,  jaw  locked  tight,  muscles  strung  taut  as  wire.

“fucking  idiots,”  he  muttered,  more  to  himself  than  leon.  “first  thing  any  cop-hating,  law-breaking  son  of  a  bitch  is  gonna  want  is  her  head  on  a  stick.  and  the  mayor—”  his  voice  edged  with  a  bitter  laugh,  sharp  and  joyless,  “—the  mayor  really  thinks  she  had  a  hand  in  levi’s  death?”

he  turned,  eyes  dark,  restless.  “all  they’ve  got  is  a  video.  no  face  to  run  through  recognition,  nothing  solid.  stinks  of  something  fouler.  veil’s  fingerprints  all  over  it.”  he  was  rambling  and  it  was  rare  for  him.  gideon  was  a  sharp  thinker,  worked  in  codes  and  tech.  but  this  news  has  him  outside  of  himself.  his  pacing  slowed,  gaze  cutting  to  leon.  “they  have  to  be  holding  more  than  that—something  worse.  otherwise  it  doesn’t  make  sense.”  a  pause,  the  weight  of  it  heavy  in  the  air.  “we  need  to  get  to  her.  you  spoken  to  her?  is  she  answering  your  calls?”

[nghtxmare]

cassius looked the part of the leader, the one lesser men feared. he always seemed to want to make a statement when he walked into a room. declan? he always looked unbothered, as if the woes of others didn't matter to him--which they didn't. he didn't care about whispers or assumptions. he didn't wait for them either. his father taught him as much. but he wasn't the one behind the wheel, so all he could do was sit and wait. and fume. "I'm not sure they know the difference. or care. we move too fast, we're careless. we move too slow and we're weak. it's a lose/lose situation."

he finished his drink in one swift motion, placing the glass back on the table before he turned to the other. "you know how I feel. I want to see blood running down the streets. I'm not talking about just who murdered him. I'm talking everyone they know, everyone they may have passed by on the street." patience wasn't declan's strength. it made him restless and that in turn made him want to go bigger and better. "I like the way that sounds. but I'm not sure how much longer we can wait."

he turned his back to the window, staring at his friend instead. "what's your plan? how are we moving?" arms crossed over his chest in a somewhat relaxed stance.

[darkenmity]

cassius  didn’t  flinch  at  declan’s  hunger  for  blood—he  expected  it.  hell,  he  respected  it.  but  his  reply  came  measured,  voice  low  and  deliberate,  cutting  through  the  space  with  the  weight  of  a  blade  being  unsheathed.

“you’re  right.  move  too  slow,  we  look  weak.  move  too  fast,  we  bleed  out  on  someone  else’s  terms.  that’s  the  game  they  want  us  playing.”  he  reached  into  his  coat,  pulled  out  a  small  baggy,  the  transparent  strip  inside  catching  the  light  as  he  set  it  on  the  table  between  them.  his  stare  never  wavered.  “this  came  with  the  message.  along  with  money,  along  with  an  invitation  soaked  in  blood.  the  veil  thinks  they’re  pulling  strings.  what  they  don’t  realize  is  i’ve  been  listening  long  enough  to  hear  when  a  hand  shakes.”

cassius  leaned  forward,  bracing  his  weight  on  his  palms  against  the  desk’s  edge.  “levi’s  death  wasn’t  random.  it  wasn’t  just  an  execution.  it  was  a  move  meant  to  make  us  reckless,  meant  to  send  us  into  the  streets  screaming  for  vengeance.  they  want  us  to  show  our  hand  before  we  know  who’s  really  at  the  table.”  his  tone  darkened,  a  steady  burn  of  fury  restrained  into  precision.  “and  i’ll  be  damned  if  i  play  their  game  blind.”

he  straightened,  smoothing  his  cuffs,  every  motion  deliberate,  calm—dominance  dressed  in  control.  “that’s  why  i’ve  got  archer  working  in  the  shadows.  quiet  threads,  the  kind  that  unravel  the  whole  tapestry  if  you  pull  them  right.  meanwhile,  i  keep  the  circle  tight.  people  get  the  basics,  just  enough  to  move  how  i  need  them  to.  that  way,  if  the  veil  decides  to  play  extortioner  again,  i’ll  know  exactly  who  leaked  the  ink  before  it  stains.”

cassius’  eyes  locked  on  declan,  sharp,  steady.  “now,  you.  you  want  in  deeper?  then  you  take  a  seat  inside  the  circle.  you  get  the  whole  picture,  the  real  plans—not  the  scraps.  but  that  means  you  don’t  fly  off  half-cocked.  no  ghost  hunts.  no  fire  just  for  fire’s  sake.  because  if  you  start  swinging  before  i  say,  you’ll  give  the  veil  exactly  what  they  want.  and  i  won’t  let  even  you  fuck  that  up.”

he  let  the  silence  sit,  heavy,  unyielding,  before  his  voice  dropped  again,  quiet  but  laced  with  steel.  “we’ll  give  the  city  its  blood,  declan.  streets  will  run  with  it  when  i  decide  the  time.  but  when  we  strike,  it’s  not  chaos—it’s  a  coronation.  pentavita  doesn’t  just  answer.  we  set  the  terms.  we  write  the  rules.  and  the  veil  learns  they  aren’t  gods.”

cassius’  mouth  curved,  humorless  but  sharp,  the  faintest  ghost  of  a  smirk.  “so  the  question  is—do  you  want  to  be  in  the  circle,  or  do  you  want  the  basics?  because  i  don’t  have  the  patience  to  watch  you  pace  and  fume  while  i’m  laying  bricks  for  an  earthquake.”  

[echosnoir]

Vincent was heading to Kingsley Realty the moment he heard a location, not giving it a second thought, pushing down harder on the gas pedal when Cassius’ invitation—more a command than a request—came through. The engine growled as he swerved through traffic, his focus razor-sharp, every nerve wired to get to Kingsley Realty. His knuckles tuned white from the grip he had on the wheel, it only tightened the longer the silence stretched. He had never been more relieved than when he heard Cassius speak again, letting out a breath that he hadn't even realized he was holding.

Vincent: "I hear you, boss. I'll be there shortly."

Ten minutes later, he was pulled up to the location indicated. Vinny took a second before setting out of the car. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and let himself relax for a moment. It was hard to not go in guns a blazing, but he was trying to prove to Cassius that he wasn't just a hothead, even if he definitely wanted to rush in there and ask what he could do. Instead, he pulls his phone, and a smoke, out as he steps out of the car to inform Cassius he had arrived.

Vincent: i'm here, boss.

[darkenmity]

Cassius: Roof. Don’t keep me waiting.

the  city  was  thick  with  its  usual  noise,  but  the  rooftop  felt  cut  off,  quieter,  like  cassius  had  carved  out  his  own  piece  of  the  skyline  to  breathe  in.  he  stood  near  the  edge,  coat  collar  turned  up  against  the  night  breeze,  one  hand  wrapped  around  a  glass  he  hadn’t  touched.  no  desk.  no  barrier.  just  him  and  the  sprawl  of  harlem  beneath  his  feet.

when  the  door  creaked  open  behind  him,  cassius  didn’t  bother  turning.  his  voice  carried  low  and  deliberate,  every  syllable  weighted.

“i  need  you  to  do  something  for  me.”  no  greeting,  no  small  talk—straight  to  the  marrow.  “the  commissioner’s  in  hiding.  maybe  protective  services,  maybe  just  smart  enough  to  crawl  under  a  rock.  either  way,  i  want  eyes  on  her.  and  when  i  say  eyes,  i  mean  they  don’t  leave.  she  so  much  as  sneezes,  i  want  to  hear  about  it  before  the  tissue  hits  the  floor.”

finally,  he  glanced  over  his  shoulder,  gaze  sharp,  unreadable  against  the  glow  of  the  city  lights.  “this  isn’t  noise  i  can  put  in  everyone’s  ear.  not  yet.  the  fewer  that  know,  the  tighter  the  circle  stays.  that  means  you,  vincent.  you  say  you’re  ready  to  prove  yourself—then  prove  it.  quiet.  no  mistakes.  no  trails  back  to  us.”

he  turned  back  to  the  skyline,  the  glass  in  his  hand  catching  the  light.  “the  veil  thinks  they  can  herd  us  into  chaos.  i’d  rather  stir  the  pot  without  showing  my  hand.  keeping  the  commissioner  alive  puts  me  in  control  of  the  board.  and  control’s  the  only  thing  standing  between  pentavita  and  a  grave.”

cassius  took  a  slow  breath,  letting  the  night  fill  the  silence  before  driving  it  home.  “so  you’ll  shadow  her.  you’ll  learn  her  patterns,  her  shadows,  her  guards.  and  when  the  time  comes,  you’ll  bring  me  what  i  need.  you'll  bring  me  her.”

[wasdaring]

“  doesn't  matter  what  i  think  ...  or  what  you  think  ”  nat  stated,  head  shaking.  “  i'm  going  to  worry  about  you,  stephan.  ”  he  was  gone  for  seven  years,  locked  up.  she  couldn't  begin  to  fathom  the  possibilities  of  what  that  could  do  to  a  person's  mind.  the  words  he  was  saying  were  audible  to  her,  but  she  didn't  want  to  listen  to  him.  she  didn't  care  how  much  he  attempted  to  reassure  her,  nothing  was  going  to  make  her  stop  worrying.  she  knew  she  shouldn't  have  cared,  that  she  shouldn't  have  even  been  in  his  home.  her  loyalty  lied  with  the  pentavita,  but  she  couldn't  dismiss  the  part  of  herself  that  loved  him,  that  yearned  for  him  and  the  life  they  could've  had  that  was  stripped  away  from  them  due  the  actions  of  a  selfish  father.  “  don't  say  things  like  that,  ”  she  argued,  brows  knitting  in  concern.  “  don't  put  that  shit  out  there  in  the  universe.  ”

“  of  course  i'm  scared  of  losing  you.  i  already  lost  you  once,  stephan.  i  don't  want  to  do  it  again.  i  can't  ...  i  can't  go  through  that  a  second  time.  ”  the  first  time,  she  didn't  even  have  answers.  this  time  ?  they  shared  a  common  enemy,  someone  capable  of  taking  either  one  of  them  out  at  any  moment.  he  was  stubborn,  much  like  herself.  she  didn't  doubt  that  it  would  eventually  land  the  both  of  them  into  trouble.  “  you  think  either  of  us  can  stop  the  veil  from  a  shot  we  don't  know  is  comin'  ?  ”

for  nearly  all  of  her  life,  she'd  taken  care  of  herself.  her  parents  raised  her  to  be  a  warrior,  someone  who  didn't  crack  under  pressure.  she  was  resilient,  never  allowed  herself  to  lean  on  another  for  comfort.  stephan  was  the  closest  she'd  ever  come  to  doing  it,  and  he  was  making  it  exceptionally  difficult  to  want  to  continue  using  the  methods  she'd  practiced  for  over  a  decade.  “  i  wont  ask  you  to  do  that  for  me,  ”  she  stated,  voice  cracking  slightly.  she  knew  she  didn't  need  to  ask,  that  the  man  would  delegate  the  role  to  himself  without  request.  still,  she  was  giving  him  an  out,  a  chance  to  reconsider.

the  admission  slipped  out,  she  just  couldn't  stop  it.  too  overwhelmed  with  emotions,  too  hung  up  on  him.  the  one  and  only  man  she'd  ever  felt  anything  genuine  for.  a  shaky  breath  expelled  past  crimson  brims  as  he  tugged  her  closer,  palm  pressing  flatly  against  his  chest.  “  i  mean  it,  ”  the  brunette  insisted  without  hesitation.  nobody  could  ever  truly  compete  with  him,  not  by  any  stretch  of  the  imagination. there  was  a  part  of  her  that  knew  that  she  would  never  not  be  his.  there  wasn't  anyone  else  out  there  for  her.  he  was  the  one  who  understood  her,  who'd  gotten  her  through  some  of  the  worst  days  of  her  life.  “  i  love  you.  ” of the worst days of her life. “ i love you. ”

[darkenmity]

his  chest  tightened  like  her  words  had  wrapped  a  fist  around  his  ribs  and  squeezed.  for  a  second,  the  usual  sharpness  in  him  dulled,  replaced  by  something  raw,  something  he  didn’t  bother  trying  to  hide.  his  thumb  still  traced  slow  against  her  jaw,  rough  palm  holding  her  steady  like  if  he  let  go,  she’d  vanish  all  over  again.

his  forehead  pressed  harder  to  hers,  his  breath  mingling  with  hers,  rough  and  steady  like  the  beat  of  war  drums.  “you  don’t  want  me  to  take  every  hit?  too  fucking  bad.  that’s  already  written.  if  the  veil  sends  something  i  don’t  see  comin’,  then  it’s  gonna  find  me  in  front  of  you,  not  the  other  way  around.  that’s  the  only  way  i  know  how  to  do  this.  only  way  i  know  how  to  love  you.”

he  drew  back  just  enough  to  meet  her  eyes,  and  the  fire  there  wasn’t  anger—it  was  devotion,  brutal  and  unyielding.  “i  don’t  need  you  to  ask  me  to  do  it.  i  don’t  need  your  permission  to  bleed  for  you.  that’s  mine  to  give.  always  has  been.”  his  hand  slid  from  her  jaw  down  to  the  curve  of  her  neck,  holding  her  there,  grounding  himself  in  the  reality  of  her  skin,  her  pulse  beating  against  his  calloused  fingers.

a  rough  laugh,  broken  and  aching,  slipped  out  of  him.  “you’re  right.  i  can’t  stop  a  bullet  i  don’t  see.  but  i’ll  be  damned  if  i  ever  stop  standing  between  you  and  the  barrel.  if  i  burn  out,  it’ll  be  with  you  in  my  arms,  not  with  you  wonderin’  if  i  made  it.”

her  confession  tore  through  him—*i  love  you.*  his  jaw  clenched,  like  the  words  were  both  salvation  and  torment.  for  seven  years  he’d  buried  it,  smothered  it  under  rage  and  regret,  but  it  came  back  alive  now,  stronger  than  it  had  ever  been.  he  leaned  closer,  his  lips  brushing  hers  once,  testing,  then  pressing  in  with  the  kind  of  desperation  that  came  from  years  lost  and  a  thousand  nights  replayed  in  the  dark.

when  he  finally  pulled  back,  breath  hot  against  her  mouth,  his  hand  still  cradling  her  neck,  his  voice  was  nothing  but  gravel  and  truth.  “i  never  stopped,  nat.  not  for  a  goddamn  second.  and  i  don’t  care  what  the  veil  throws  at  us,  or  if  you  push  me  ‘til  i  bleed—i’m  not  lettin’  go.  you’re  mine.  always  were.  always  will  be.”

he  kissed  her  again,  slower  this  time,  softer,  like  it  wasn’t  a  fight  but  a  vow.  like  he  was  stitching  the  years  back  together  with  every  brush  of  his  mouth  against  hers.

[nighttvpes]

when he said he might admit she put him on edge, alma gave him a look that landed somewhere between a smirk and a squint. like: really? you’re full of shit. but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. because she knew it was true. stephan wasn’t the flattering type. didn’t waste breath trying to charm people. if something slipped past his teeth, it meant he meant it. and it wasn’t exactly news to her. making people uneasy had always been alma’s default setting. even as a kid, with skinned knees and knotted hair, crouched in the dirt, watching ants devour bloated roadkill. poking at it with a stick like she was conducting a science experiment.

“thanks.” the word felt strange in her mouth. alma wasn’t raised on pleases and thank yous. and the older she got, the more she realized how useless all that shit really was. people didn’t mean half the things they said anyway. still, she said it. “i’ll take the compliment. just once,” she added, her tone dry, the ghost of a smirk pulling at her lips. “long as you don’t get used to me bein’ gracious.”

then silence. but not the empty kind. her eyes met his, steady and still. the look she gave him wasn’t loud or sentimental. just a flicker, small, warm, and unmissable if you knew what to look for. it said i see you. it said you’re not alone. it said you ever need me, i’m already there. and she knew he’d catch it. knew he always did.

she looked back out at the city with him, the neon making the skyline bleed...sharp reds, sickly greens, the kind of glow that made everything feel just a little more doomed. her voice dropped. “as for zev…” she sucked in a breath through her teeth, slow and sharp, then shook her head like she was trying to flick something off. “he wasn’t exactly sunshine and fuckin’ roses the last time i saw him. had me sittin’ there wonderin’ if that’s what it feels like to get disciplined by a father.” a short, humorless laugh slipped out. “not that i’d know.”

“anyway. i was supposed to find that girl. the one with the blog.” alma let the silence hang for a second, then added, blunt as a bat: “what kind of dumb bitch puts mob secrets online?” she said it with a mixture of disbelief and secondhand embarrassment. “seems like a fuckin’ mess. wouldn’t trust her to give up anything clean.” she shrugged, loose and careless. like it wasn’t her problem anymore. “still looked,” she said simply. “but she was under pentavita protection. full cloak-and-dagger shit. and i don’t know what zev thinks i’m supposed to do with that. i’m not trained in covert ops. i’m the bitch you call when you want someone’s fingernails removed with pliers.” her mouth twitched, almost smiling. “jesus h. christ. i mean, if he's callin' a meeting? we're fucked.”

[darkenmity]

stephan  barked  out  a  low  laugh,  rough  and  sharp  enough  to  scrape  the  alley  walls.  he  dragged  a  hand  down  his  jaw,  the  crooked  grin  carved  there  like  he’d  been  waiting  for  her  brand  of  honesty  all  damn  night.

“yeah,  sounds  about  right.  zev’s  never  been  the  sunshine  type.  man  walks  in  a  room  and  it  feels  like  the  temperature  drops  ten  degrees.  father  figure,  my  ass.  more  like  the  old  bastard  sittin’  at  the  head  of  the  table  just  to  remind  you  you’ll  never  measure  up.”  his  teeth  clicked  together  as  he  scoffed,  a  flash  of  heat  in  his  stare.  “and  if  he’s  callin’  a  meeting?  you’re  right—we’re  already  fucked.  only  question  is  how  deep.”

he  pushed  off  the  railing,  boots  grinding  against  the  concrete,  the  weight  in  his  frame  coiled  tight  like  he  was  halfway  to  pacing.  “that  girl  with  the  blog?  christ.  some  people  got  death  wishes  wired  into  their  dna.  mob  secrets  online—might  as  well  tattoo  a  bullseye  on  your  forehead  and  hand  out  the  ammunition.  pentavita  protection  just  makes  it  messier.  kingsley’s  people  never  play  straight,  and  if  she’s  under  their  wing,  she’s  either  useful  to  them  or  already  a  corpse  dressed  up  in  perfume.  either  way,  we  ain’t  getting  anything  clean  outta  her.”

his  eyes  cut  back  to  alma,  steady,  burning,  the  kind  of  look  that  never  wavered  when  it  landed  on  someone  he  respected.  “but  you—pliers  and  all—you’re  the  exact  kind  of  bastard  they’ll  lean  on  when  clean  ain’t  an  option.  don’t  undersell  it.  you’ve  got  a  way  of  making  people  bleed  truth  they  didn’t  even  know  they  had  in  ‘em.”  a  rough  grin  tugged  at  his  mouth,  part  challenge,  part  acknowledgment.  “don’t  mean  i  like  it,  but  i’d  be  a  liar  if  i  said  it  doesn’t  work.”

[burningxheaven]

Kinny: no steffy no Kinny: Are we just never gonna have christmas or birthdays for the rest of our lives s you don't have to talk to him? Kinny: its not the 50s steff Kinny: i might even ask him. girl power Kinny: actually i have to ask you something about dad Kinny: Kenjie told me some things..

[darkenmity]

steffy: i can be in the same room as someone and not talk to them. did it for years with dad its easy. Steffy: joking sort of... Just let us figure out when and where we talk. steffy: oh yeah, you really wanna do that. i know it aint the 50's but i know you. deep down you want him to ask admit it. admit it and i might even speed up this little family meeting between me and your lover boy. steffy: kenjie's got a big fucking mouth so i aint surprised. steffy: spit it out what you wanna know.