ââŚWell what does bad look like?â
No title available

ellievsbear
No title available
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
ojovivo
h

shark vs the universe
Sade Olutola
Game of Thrones Daily
I'd rather be in outer space đ¸
YOU ARE THE REASON
No title available
$LAYYYTER

â
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Keni
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

blake kathryn
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

if i look back, i am lost

seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States
seen from Italy

seen from Singapore

seen from United States
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from France

seen from Guatemala

seen from Germany

seen from France

seen from Singapore
seen from United States

seen from Germany
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States

seen from Chile
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Germany
seen from United States
@emiliaking-archived
ââŚWell what does bad look like?â
The Punisher | 2.9
Well, Iâve known Frank for a long time, and thereâs one thing for sure, he cares about you.
FAVORITE QUOTE OF 4x10 SURVEY â
Are you stronger than a mountain?
I need you to fight.
Camila was trying to kill me, and you betrayed me.
ivory ladies + greek goddessesÂ
@alcxyuen @serakaran @gomezriley @casspage
for the wicked + families
deiter-neumannâ:
He could tell that life had changed distinctly in the past year, they had that much in common. Emilia had established her own life here, as far as he could tell, and he could not imagine the strange feeling of so many familiar faces converged on the city that it was built in. Hell, even Deiter was having his own battles with his childhood and the Syndicate colliding in Montreal. At least for him, his past was merely a ghost here, and the people he knew from New York were now forging a new path for him. Something he had chosen, and he was sure Emilia had not chosen for herself.
Laughing softly, he nodded playfully. âYeah, I canât say that would be a comfortable position for anyone over five feet tall,â he mused, knowing full well there was no way either of them would ever be able to hide that way. This was he was good at, keeping the conversation light and fun in order to avoid any discussion of a deeper topic. He could thank his mother for that skill, and it was probably the only thing he would ever thank her for, aside from getting him away from the situation of his childhood.
Nodding as she responded, he started the car and began making his way away from the hospital. âAlright then, what do you want to talk about?â he replied, âSchool? The weather?â Turning for a second to shoot her a grin, he kept his eyes trained on the road ahead. He was always a cautious driver, but her nerves getting into the car made him concentrate even harder, to male sure nothing would spook her. âAs long as itâs not my opinion on celebrities or politics, we can talk about anything.â
The worst thing about the accident for Emilia was the lack of control. Not knowing what was going to happen, feeling as though the situation was spiraling out of her hands. Sheâd never grown akin to chaos, the idea that she couldn't stop someone from hurting her family. While sheâd had some time to let the entire event marinate, it hit her the moment she got in the car. There would always be the possibility that something could go wrong. That whoever had failed the first time to get rid of her would be lurking around the corner, waiting for another opportunity to arise. Or worse, that they would try and go after someone else- Louis, Alex, Sera... With compassion, the liabilities grew and grew. Nervous fingers played with a loose string on her jacket, Emilia doing her best to simply focus on what Deiter was saying. That was simple. That she could do.
Something she hadnât expected, the moment brown hues fell on Deiter in the Kingâs residence, was the easy sense of calm he ushered in. Maybe it was because of his job, having to deal with all sorts of people on a regular basis? After all, heâd been pretty damn charming at the ever so infamous gala... although Emilia got the sneaking suspicion that maybe he also wasnât half as uncaring as he tried to put on. And that little fact of knowledge had her return a smile, the nervous current that ran in her blood simmering down a bit. âYou know, you never really told me why you came out to Montreal?âÂ
xdantemoralesâ:
Things were moving along. Privately, behind closed and barred doors, Dante did as he goddamn pleased - all against his better judgment. But then, a day that had been meant to bring all of Montreal together turned bloody, and the target had been none other than Emiliaâs own damn mother. He hasnât seen her since. At first, he had figured it likely she wouldnât be in at work. Who in their right mind would subject themselves to such a thing? Dante had shot off a single text, telling her to take all the time she needed. And then, he came into a notice shortly thereafter. Despite the snub, it was thought better to just let it go. Emilia would come around, she always does. She didnât. And now, several weeks out, Dante found himself wondering just what it is that the girl is up to. He found himself slightly flustered at work, a fresh intern promptly having fucked up everything Emilia had put together. His evenings were spent at the Vittori Hotel bar, drinking away his thoughts.. if he wasnât in other meetings of a darker nature. Not tonight. Tonight, Dante would have a mere two drinks before his restless bones would carry him out into the night. It would be a drive to Emiliaâs building, and a small task to get inside. He is nothing short of determined, however, and he would soon find himself at her door. When did he become this person? This is a mistake. Screw it. Three firm knocks upon her door are granted, and he would wait, solemn as he listens for the telltale sound of her impending answer. For once, he has absolutely no idea what he is going to say.
@emiliaking
Weeks felt like they were dragging, the minutes on the clock going slower than usual since her motherâs death. While there was plenty to do- packing up Milenaâs things, the funeral and all itâs string attached- there was still too much time to think. Too much time to simmer, like a kettle waiting to boil over. Sheâd been in an out of the Kingâs penthouse, an eerily silence and emptiness making it feel bigger than normal. And while her father had been in town for a bit, New York tore him back to his duties- however hellish and dark they were. That let Emilia on her own, standing in the ruins of a former life.Â
These days she was more of an elusive ghost, grief, and anger still sitting heavy on her shoulders. Maybe she was a powder keg waiting to burst- everyone in the syndicate surely treated her as such. And maybe, just maybe, they had good reason to. Within the past month, sheâd done a few things that were previously unthinkable. Sheâd fail her first exam- that left her wondering if graduation truly was around the corner. There was the rushed disappearance from her internship because how on earth was she supposed to preach justice and law with what her family did? More importantly, how could she trust anyone that hadnât come from New York with the rest of the Ivory? Worry colored in dark circles, sleepless nights painting exhaustion on every bone in her body.Â
Her own apartment had become a place of refuge, a stark contrast to the marble and cold the Kingâs penthouse held. Still, among plants and familiarity, sheâd made a point to turn every family picture away, frames flipped. They were all memories that now felt tainted by truth and death. Reminders of the wreckage she was currently sifting through. The soft knock on her door made her bit the inside of her cheek. She couldnât remember inviting someone over- so far people like Sera or Deiter had been the few that she was willing to see. A small wave of paranoia led her to the door, eyes briefly stopping on a knife set in her kitchen. With the lock clicking open, brown hues fell on one of the last people on earth she expected. âSeriously?â She murmured, a small sigh leaving her lips.Â
zephyrjcksnâ:
There was no missing how dark such a moment could become and how quickly he could delve into the intricacies of her parents empire, but he wasnât so blind and unforgiving that he wasnât completely aware of how fragile such a moment could be. Letting Emilia in on the doings of her family name was opening a door to something that neither he, nor her father could save her from in the long run. Once it was there, in her head, itâd live on within the cavern of her chest whether she liked it or not. That, and he certainly didnât know whether he could trust her with so much, not yet. âI know.â He spoke roughly, his jaw flexing beneath his coming compromise, âbut, whatever I tell you doesnâ leave this hallway, not from your lips nor mine. As far as anyone else is concerned, this conversation never happened. Not until I can figure out how to keep you alive.â A dire statement, he knew, but perhaps dire was just what such a situation called for. This wouldnât end with Milenaâs death, no. It was the catalyst, caught in the back blast of the fire heâd set the moment heâd pulled the trigger on the Vittori. âIf youâre looking for names of whoever did this, I donât have âem yet, but I will. For now, all I can tell you about whoever did it is part of an organization thatâve been in direct opposition with your mom since she got here.â And that was no doubt where any explanation he could hand her grew a little more, sensitive. âI donât know what you know already, but thereâs a sideâa your family business that doesnât exactly play above board, Em.â He lent back into the plastic, morbidly uncomfortable chair, looking beyond the steeled doors of the room opposite. This right here, explained away every possibility he might have ever had in the prospect of having a family. Heâd neither want, nor care for the premise of leaving someone to explain away the harrowing things thatâd fallen from crimson stained hands. âThis..â this ainât anythinâ new to us. Itâs bloody anâ dangerous and you gottaâ be willinâ to understand what Iâm lettinâ you in on before I give you a fuckinâ key to a whole different world. This isnât somethinâ you can just, figure out in a day or two.â
A constant. Zephyr Jackson had been in Emiliaâs life for too many years to count. From when she was a child to her motherâs decisive move to Montreal, there were few people that knew her family as well as he did. Or someone she trusted like him. Nearly every instance when violence or confusion crept into her life, heâd somehow quelled any doubts that she mightâve had about the world that surrounded her. Though that illusion of truth was nothing more than smoke and mirrors. She could see that now, clear as grief and anger pounded away at her chest. Was there safety in ignorance? Yes- but any sense of it has been taken from her the moment Milena Kingâs body crumpled to the ground. What remained was Pandora's box, waiting to be opened. âI wonât say anything.â The words left through gritted teeth, fingernails digging into her skin as she folded her hands. How funny to think that their first honest conversation was finally happening, under hospital lights and outside the morgue. Though try as she did to put blame on Zephyr, she wasnât dumb enough to think this was his doing. Not when her motherâs death was the catalyst leading to this very sit-down.Â
âWhen you get them...â She couldnât quite place the foreign feeling that rose in her chest. Dark, distant from her usual string of compassion. Although that part of her was starting to die alongside her mother, an unmarked grave for innocence lost right next to the empty King plot. âMake them pay for it.â Whatever monsters had planned the attack still roamed the streets on Montreal, nameless ghosts that were celebrating the death of the King matriarch. The thought made her skin crawl, brown hues falling on the few scattered men in the hallway. Were they loyal, could they be trusted? As Zephyr carefully weaved his way through answers, the past few months all but replayed themselves in her mind: the gala, the heated argument with Scotty Scanlan, the warehouse, the accident. All that pain caused at the hands of some organization that might as well be tightening a noose around her neck.  âIt started with the gala didnât it?â The Vittori son shot dead, and the prompt men seeking vengeance for the slain. The image was etched in her memory. âI looked into the warehouse... I never told you about it.â The confession left her lips, though who could blame her for doing so? Gunfire, a building left burning. Nothing about the information she found pointed to anything legal. Anything good.
âThe other group, who are they, is it- god. Iâve been here for four years and you just...â Did they work with her, had this other group lived side by side waiting to strike? It was unsheathed paranoia. Voice caught in her throat, she rubbed at her face. âFuck.â Damned if you do, damned if you donât. To go on with her normal day to day was something a fool could do, someone who could turn they face away from the murder of a loved one. Yet the blossoming resentment proved that there was nowhere else to go but down the rabbit hole. And with one of the pillars in her life crumbling to dust, the last King in Montreal turned her gaze to Zephyr. âEverything changed the moment you all came to Canada and now my mom... I canât be in the dark anymore, please.âÂ
deiter-neumannâ:
While Deiter could not understand what it was like for a parent to die, he did know what it was like to no longer have one in his life. Even though he hated the man and what he put his siblings and him through, there was still a void left in his life. A dull ache that surfaced every time someone asked him about his father, knowing that he was going to have to try and explain the darkest part of his life, something similar to what he was sure Emilia was going to feel for the rest of her life. It was not something he would wish on anyone, not even those he considered to be his enemies, let alone one of the kindest people he had come to meet. If there was something he could do to help someone in a similar place, he would do it. Who the hell was this man he was becoming?
âAnytime, Emilia. I mean it,â he replied, squeezing her shoulders just a bit tighter as he spoke. Hearing the word s that come next, the dreaded question that he knew was bound to come, his heart dropped into his stomach. Looking down at her, she looked strangely small, reminding him just how young she actually was. In that moment, he wished he was a higher rank in the Syndicate, so he could know for a fact that no one else had gotten hurt, and that he could be someone they turned to in order to get revenge. There would be very few trusted to do that, and he knew that he was not among them. âIâm so sorry,â was all he was able to say to her, knowing that he was nowhere near the first or the last to say those words to her.
Itâd been a matter of seconds- a bullet between the eyes while chaos unfolded in Montreal. When Emilia had first heard what happen, disbelief settled in her bones. It wasnât possible. No, at any moment her mother would walk right through the doors. Safe, strong, alive. But as the words sunk into skin like poison, there was no denying what had happened. Not when sheâd seen her motherâs body, the very bullet hole that marred Milenaâs features burned into her thoughts. Was this what the world was coming to? Vengeance and violence running rampant, threatening to take everyone with it? Her mind jumped to one particular evening, a single conversation proving to be an omen more than anything else: You know, chĂŠrie, that the world shall always be more corrupt than pure. For the longest time, she held steady in a belief of the opposite. Hell, sheâd even tried to do her part, her major intent on giving people justice and goodness. But now, with the curtain pulled away, the ugly truth stared back at her. And that steadfast sureness waivered like a candle in the wind. She stayed quiet, the squeeze feeling strange against numb skin.Â
Iâm so sorry. It was an idea, a spark that took root in the pit of her stomach. A seed of hatred. To whoever had been so bold enough as to pull that trigger. Visceral and dark. Maybe it was time she started playing the same game? The one thatâd crept into her life with each passing month spent in this city of bones. All she could do was let silence fall between them both, savoring the shred of kindness and safety that Deiter offered. Come tomorrow, who knew where the cards would land?
 For now, all that she had was the current moment. And that would have to do.Â
&&who: open &&where: the luxure &&when: 11pm
The luxure wasnât a place Emilia thought she would ever find herself in again. Let alone while it was operating. But as it was, she sat in one of the booths, doing her best to politely listen to a stranger go on about their day. Flashing lights threw a haze over the dancers, music reverberating throughout the space. A grand opening... and her first night really out since the death of Milena King. Details continued to surface, with Emilia doing her best to keep her head above water. As far as she was aware, she could guess that the luxure fell under the rule of the Ivory kingdom. One of the legitimate businesses contributing to her bloody inheritance. While it didnât ease the chasm that split her mind in half, she couldnât argue with supporting Alex. Especially since the list of people she cared about or trust somehow dwindled day by day.
Brown hues watched as her counterpart finally got up, saying something about a smoke break and being right back- though a part of her really hoped he got lost instead. The moment he disappeared from vision, Emilia made a beeline for the bar. Maybe a drink could help aid the out-of-place feeling that sat in her head? It was perpetrated only further by the occasional shock stares to see Milena and Marcoâs princess out and about in their world. Finding a place on the countertop, she waited until the bartender turned his eyes on her. âHey- gin and tonic, thanks.âÂ
serakaranâ:
She didnât know which ached more: the concept that Emilia would risk potential rejection just to see her or the notion that weeks of absolute neglect hadnât destroyed the King girlâs love for her. The depth of their bond stole her breath away, even now. Lips pressed to the girlâs hair as her counterpart finally released the swell of emotion buried within her chest, arms tightening their hold as if to indicate that it was all right to fall apart in a moment such as thisâ when your whole world comes crashing down around you. An emotion she would only ever wish upon her greatest enemy, not the near child enveloped in her embrace now.
Only when they parted did she dare speak again, using the pads of her thumbs to wipe saltwater tributaries from the girlâs face as she sighed out, âIt should have been me.â Not that Zephyr hadnât done a phenomenal job, of that she was sure, but Em deserved to hear the truth from the person with whom she endured hell. From her sister, in every way but blood. âI wanted to, after the accident, butâŚâ She didnât even know if Emilia had received her letterâ radio silence without an explanation felt like a hole in her chest. âI never wanted to lie to you.â
Losing someone like a parent left a gap that was near next to impossible to fill. Memories could only hold on for so long before the dull ache began to creep in yet again. While Emilia had been doing a fine job of holding herself together for the outside world, this was no place to keep her walls up. They came crumbling down the moment Seraâs arms wrapped around her, an ever familiar touch despite the chasm thatâd split open between them thanks to the accident. More and more it hit Emilia- she would not let the people she cared about go. Not ever again.
No doubt it hadnât been Seraâs choice to disappear into thin air. That was one hope Emilia held onto, one that she was almost certain of despite the world getting turned on its head. I never wanted to lie to you. Itâd been to protect Emilia, the nature of the business dark and dangerous for someone like her. Someone whoâd just finally was understanding just how much cruelty could exist. Still, that choice had been made for her, naivety setting her up to fail the moment her parents put safeguards in place. âI know.â Who could dispute Marco and Milenaâs rules?
 Emilia took in a deep breath, letting her eyes close momentarily. Nothing was supposed to leave that hallway, that was what Zephyr had told her. Sera was her exception, one she made for herself. âI donât care who said what, Iâm not losing you again. I canât-â Her voice was caught in her throat, a heavy heart and heavy head. âI really need you here.âÂ
Mix tape
CASS; a playlist( send âmix tapeâ for my muse to make a list of 5 songs that they think explain how they feel for your muse)
Thank You | Kehlani
So this is a sincere, unscriptedUnwritten for all that you've givenAll I'm trying to say is I thank you
Technicolour Beat | Oh Wonder
Lay down your slowCome settle down, settle downLet loose your glowCome settle down, settle down
Youth | Shawn Mendes ft. Khalid
Pain, but I won't let it turn into hateNo, I won't let it change meNever losing sight of the one I keep inside
Your Soul | Rhodes
Oh you know when you're aloneI'm holding on, and on, and on, and onI'm holding on to your soul
&&more
Are you stronger than a mountain?