― bloodsport.

[littlefreya]

The cinematographer: “Yeah that’s a great camera angle”

[labyrinthinesyndicatex]

Krish snorted, shaking his head. “Yeah, nothing like tearing apart your car for a missing USB. Real party starter, right?” He glanced at Rhys, half-grinning. “Hey, if you ever want to go full analog, I’ll let you teach me the paper system. I’m starting to see the appeal.” He took a slow sip, letting the whiskey burn settle his nerves. Honestly, Rhys making jokes about it was better than getting pity or some lecture about being more careful. It’s not like anyone else would offer to help, so maybe he should just take the win for once. “In any case, if you’re up for it, I could use a hand. Or at least someone to laugh at me when I find it wedged under the seat with old receipts.”

[rhysx]

━━━the comment made him laugh a little, and he gave a half-shrug as he responded with a “at least you can’t lose a stack of papers” tone, teasing. he’d still prefer it, even as a backup, to keep his files and important documents in paper. and when they no longer served a purpose, all he had to do was burn them and there would be no trace left of them. “oh, I am up for it,” he laughed, “I am not missing this sight.” and if they don’t find it, he still gets to tell him that he told him so and how he shouldn’t make fun of his old-man ways. he finished his drink and gave Krish a friendly pat on the back. “come on, let’s get to it because your mind is stuck to it even as you sit here trying to seem like you enjoy this drink.”

[liloubaudelaire]

⸻ From his tone, she figured Reaper definitely wasn’t a pitbull. For a split second, she pictured something small — an iguana maybe, or a hamster with a Napoleon complex. The kind of pet that acts like it runs the place. That is, until her eyes landed on the puffed-up ball of black feathers staring her down like she owed it rent. The more the raven puffed his chest, the more Sasha half-expected him to burst like one of those dramatic animals in a Shrek movie. Maybe she needed to cut back on cartoons.

❛ You don’t scare me, Reaper. I’ve got a little brother of yours at home. ❜ Jack was a menace. He attacked people for fun and shat on anyone who dared call him a pigeon. She crossed her legs as she waited for Rhys to bring their drinks, careful not to touch anything — half-convinced even her shadow might smudge the place. Her hands rested neatly in her lap, posture composed, the kind of grace she’d been trained into — hostess-perfect. Her bangs fell softly into her eyes as she toyed with the rings on her fingers, a nervous habit she didn’t realize had returned until her skin remembered the cold of silver.

She took the glass from him with a nod. ❛ Thanks. ❜ The vodka burned cleanly down her throat, but she barely blinked—like it was nothing more than water. After a small sip, she placed her glass next to his and glanced sideways at him. ❛ Almost two weeks. ❜ She said, still fiddling with one of the rings. ❛ My father used to come here sometimes, but I never came with him. ❜ She didn’t need to say more. God only knew what kind of shady shit Alexei had been involved in. Betting, drinking, deals she wasn’t supposed to know about — it wasn’t her business now, and she didn’t want it to be.

❛ I guess I’ve settled. Unpacked everything, at least. Still a few things left to fix, but I haven’t had the time — or the energy. ❜ That was an understatement. Taking care of the ( their ) twins drained her more than any overnight shift at the hospital ever had. Work now was just a means to survive. ❛ I’m good. ❜ She added quickly, almost too quickly. She didn’t want him offering help. She didn’t want him thinking she needed it. She leaned forward to grab her glass again, taking another slow sip to give her hands something to do. The quiet was starting to feel heavier than the drink. She hated that it made her feel off balance. ❛ Have you been living here long? ❜ She asked finally, hoping to cut through the silence — or maybe just fill it so she didn’t have to say anything real.

[rhysx]

━━━he watched her for a long moment. there was regret etched in his very being when it came to her —the way he had chosen to walk away from her, them, what they had, because it had become too real. but at the same time, it was also firmly installed in him that any form of feelings is a weakness, a reliability. people like him could not afford to be perceived as human —god forbid someone found out they could feel; it would become something to use against them. it was both him and her he protected by walking away, even if it didn’t feel like the right choice now that he was looking at her again, in person.

his blue eyes shifted to the raven. “Alexei is here too?” he knew him, but not as well as he had known Ivan. her older brother had been a very close friend of his, almost like a brother, too; his death had come at a great cost and Rhys is not a person who lets people in easily. maybe this was part of his guilt too, that he could have hurt her if they had stayed together, that he wouldn’t be right for her. he is chaotic, restless. doesn’t allow himself to feel, and that is why he is so good at what he does. he is fine for the most part because he has conditioned himself to be like that —it’s familiar, comfortable. it almost sounded like an echo of it when she said she is doing well, like she didn’t quite mean it, but also didn’t want to elaborate on it either. he looked at her, but said nothing. several moments passed in silence and then he said, “so what do you do?” she was a doctor; she was good at what she did, it was hard to think she had left everything behind to come here for no valid reason. even if it had been at Ivan’s insistence, she had stayed in school and graduated after he had passed —and he had been there, proud of her even if he only told her once.

Rhys nodded at her question. “a few years, but I have been here for long, on and off,” he responded, frankly. his phone rang, vibrated against the bar top, and he got up to check it . “excuse me, I need to take this…” he told her, then answered the call, quietly, leaned against the bar a little —gaze shifted to Reaper who turned his attention back to Sasha once more, even if he knew he wouldn’t actually hurt her. the call was brief, and he walked back into the living room, paused for a lingering moment. “I am sorry, I need to get to work…” even if it had been his day off, he had to play his part when duty called.

[livesinfantasyland]

Lives rent-free in my head

[ofgrenvde]

"Look at her like what?" Hayat shot back, though there was no real heat in it. "I'm not judging your bike, I'm just trying to recover from thinking the world was ending." She couldn't help but crack a smile at his defensive tone about the motorcycle. Guys and their bikes, honestly. It was kind of endearing how he talked about it like it had feelings or something. "And yeah, you definitely startled me, but it's not like I'm going to hold a grudge against a machine." She shifted her weight, still feeling that lingering buzz of adrenaline from earlier. The whole city had everyone on edge lately, so loud noises weren't exactly welcome surprises. "I get that it's probably fun to ride, but does it have to sound like a jet engine taking off every time you start it up?"

[rhysx]

━━━”fair,” he responded in a nonchalant, soft tone —he hadn’t truly taken offense at the prior comment, he is well aware that not everyone is comfortable with the loud exhaust of a superbike, or fond of it. Rhys glanced at the bike, at the following question before looking back at her, the ghost of a smile gracing his lips at the query. almost laughed at it, too. “short answer is yes.” she probably didn’t want the long answer and a full explanation of why the bike was so loud, and he entirely left out the possibility of a muffler, which would help with the sound, but it wasn’t mandatory to have it on. but then paused for a moment. “but, wait…probably?” he retorted, giving her a look. “so, you’ve never ridden one, is my guess?” a shame, really; in his humble opinion people who didn’t like bikes were the ones scared of them, or scared of dying or simply had never gotten on one at all.

[demirxaslan]

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Colder or louder, yeah, that sounds about right. Devil’s Junction’s the perfect mess for a guy like you—looks polished, but it’s a circus behind the curtain. Fits you like a glove.” He gave a shrug, casual but honest. “Been here long enough to know nothing’s really as neat as it seems.” He caught the half-laugh and nodded slowly. When Rhys teased about missing him, Demir smirked. “Yeah, can’t lie, I do. It’s good having you around too—no fuss, no drama, just straight-up real. That kind of thing’s rare, and honestly, it’s worth holding onto.”

"But you know I'm curious--what keeps you here? I feel like someone with your level of expertise would be off in the bigger cities, doing something that pays a bit more too than being a bodyguard."

[rhysx]

━━━there were times he hated how well Demir actually knew him; how he could read behind the scoffed words, the short responses, the dismissive ones. Rhys is good at pretending, a master manipulator not just of others but of his own feelings, yet still sometimes he can’t fool the other man. the words spoken could not have rung truer —polished, controlled, perfect on the outside while chaos reigned on the inside; sometimes a wildfire out of control, others a shimmering, low-burning, but never peace. “I am not sure if I should be offended…” he half-teased, his poker face not betraying him. the following question was slightly unexpected, but it gathered no reaction. Rhys didn’t shift, kept holding his friend’s gaze as he shrugged lightly. “I needed a change.” plain, simple and in a way, honest, too. “something more stable, less chaotic, still with the right touch of risky.” not entirely a lie either, but that all was means to an end and he had the patience for it; all the Onyx did was be patient, consistent, working towards their goal in the shadows, their presence known when they wanted it to be. “what brings you here?” or the question should have been more like how did you end up here, instead.

[lorcnzo]

"that's fair," he agreed, not pushing the topic further. the offer was genuine, but there was no desperation to translate the acquaintance into a client relationship. and he didn't blame rhys for being blasé about what he had heard from some other attendees. for lorenzo, himself, had lost count of how many times he had either tuned out or excused himself from listening to pitches which were not going to go anywhere. he'd been collared at coffee shops, bars and even on a rare break in italy. rhys had a point, but he was only looking at it from the one angle. "amazing ideas are nothing without capital," he said, "and that's why entrance to these... is a hot ticket for some." to generate the finance to take those ideas from the drawing board into reality. of-course, they weren't the ones that the bank had already snapped up; they weren't that kind.

[rhysx]

━━━Rhys looked at him, briefly, the hint of a smirk tugged on the corner of his lips. “you do like talking about your job though,” he teased him; his tone was playful, meant as a jab. in truth, he might have asked a couple of questions if he was not half-concerned that Lorenzo would regret starting this conversation; only to be asked the same things he probably does in every other conversation at such events. “honestly, I’d rather fund my idea rather than deal with the interest and the expectations.” his business were mainly for money laundering, and even if he didn’t speak it, he was certain most of the filthy rich clients of their bank were doing the exact same thing —he knew some were for a fact. but here he is a bodyguard to most; not a businessman, and certainly not a hitman. “say, if you weren’t doing this, what else would you have liked to do?”

[liloubaudelaire]

⸻ Part of her couldn’t help but think—what the hell am I doing here? Every step inside felt like stepping deeper into a memory she hadn’t asked to revisit. She kept telling herself he’s the one who left, like she was disposable toy, like she hadn’t meant a damn thing. But even as she clung to that anger, another weight pressed harder against her conscience. You didn’t tell him, it whispered. You never told him he’s the father of your children. The guilt never left. It just lived quiet under her ribs, curled beside the exhaustion she carried every day. Maybe tonight wasn’t about unraveling it all. Maybe she just needed to see what kind of man he still was—if the water was safe to step into again. Not tonight, she told herself. Not yet. She pushed the thoughts aside, focusing instead on the warmth she’d felt—his body steady beneath her hands during the ride. It had been comforting in a way that pissed her off a little. The silence between them had been a strange gift, though. Not awkward. Just… breathable.

❛ Really? ❜ she echoed, her tone teasing as one blonde brow lifted at his comment about the place. She swung off the bike, tugging the helmet off clumsily and muttering something under her breath as she shook out her hair. It had been a long time since she’d been on a motorcycle. Probably longer than she wanted to admit. She hung the helmet on the handle, eyes sweeping over the house. It was the kind of place that didn’t quite fit her. Too pristine. Too far from her own world—too far from her neighborhood. Her expression didn’t change much; that sphinx-like stillness she wore so often remained fixed. Controlled.

His warning made her glance sideways at him. ❛ Is it a pitbull? ❜ She asked dryly. It was the first animal that came to mind, probably because it matched Rhys’ own personality: stoic, intimidating, and possibly misunderstood. When they stepped inside and she spotted Reaper, her brow lifted again. ❛ Ah, so he’s like Jack then. ❜ Her tone was casual, but there was a flicker of something gentler behind it. She stepped in fully now, gaze glancing across the room. The place looked like it had been lifted from an interior design AI—immaculate, impersonal, all sleek lines and cold surfaces. ❛ You live here or haunt it? ❜ She added under her breath, more to herself than to him.

The soft coo from Reaper made her freeze for half a second, her thoughts flicking back to home. To Jack. ❛ Does he talk? ❜ She asked, tilting her head slightly, curiosity pricking through the armor. ❛ Vodka, no ice. Neat. Thanks. ❜ She nodded, her voice back to that cool, even tone. She watched Rhys move toward the bar before letting herself drift closer to Reaper—still keeping a good meter of space between them. ❛ Hey, Reaper. ❜ Her voice lowered a notch, gentle but measured, like she wasn’t entirely sure whether to expect friendliness or feathers flying. She took a small step back, more out of respect than fear. Jack had made her curious about birds, even if she still didn’t fully trust them. After a beat, she wandered over to the couch and eased into it with that careful grace of someone always braced for whatever comes next. Her eyes trailed over the angles of the room, the untouched perfection of it all. It didn’t feel like a place where people lived. It felt like a place people hid.

[rhysx]

━━━the question prompted a quiet, short laugh. “he could be,” his tone had been playful, clearly teasing as it hinted to the fact that Reaper is, in fact, not a pitbull —but he certainly likes to think he is one, especially when they had unwanted visitors. the dark feathered bird fit into the space as if he were part of the decor, as if he belonged there for the aesthetically pleasing sight. such was his home: dark, luxurious, with accents of marble, of gold. pristine, untouched, as if no one had been there before, as if someone was not living there. Rhys valued order; it helped with the chaos going on in his head most of the time, hence he was a perfectionist in his life, organized —a projection in a way, as if order would fall in his mind in the same manner.

his blue eyes shifted to the impressive raven when they entered; the displeased, unimpressed grok he let out was soft, but loaded. when Sasha spoke again, he laughed a little, but didn’t look at her. “both,” he responded, matter-of-factly, but his voice was laced with a softness, no real offense taken in the comment. she wasn’t wrong after all, he was aware it gave off the impression of not being lived in. without another comment, he poured her drink, watched her in silence for a long second when she moved closer to Reaper, the way he gave her a side eye, feathers puffed out to make him appear even bigger than he was. he was aware the raven would not attack, nor move closer to her; it was a warning for her to not get closer to him either. often, he gets the impression that Reaper truly thinks he is above everyone else, main character syndrome, but he is lucky that he at least loves his vet and allows her to easily take a look at him when it is required.

“he does, but only when he feels like it,” he responded as he made his way up to where she had sat down on the couch and handed her the drink. he sat down next to her, close, but not too close —then placed a coaster on the coffee table for her to set her drink down, did the same for himself. “how long have you been in Devil’s Junction?” he inquired out of curiosity, for he had lived here for so long and never ran into her before till tonight, and it made him wonder.  

he hadn’t realized how he had missed her presence until she was right here again, in the flesh. out of sight, out of mind does work for him; not seeing her, he could convince himself it had all been in his head, he could divert his thoughts when they drifted back to her, to them. he could pretend it never meant anything, it was just a passing thing. seeing her again tonight had brought back the same feelings he had convinced himself were fleeting, meaningless; had made him realize he had been thinking about her this whole time and had simply attributed it to the fact that he had up and left and never explained to her ( which was not untrue either ). “have you settled?” he followed the prior question with another after a short moment had passed when he really just needed to tell her it was good to have her there; he had fucked up, but he couldn’t admit to her he had run away because of feelings, not when he couldn’t admit it to himself, even.

[lytheranoctis]

[lost-shoe]

Mission: Impossible - Fallout (2018)

[labyrinthinesyndicatex]

"Yeah, just noticed it was gone," Krish said, accepting the nod about another drink. "Car's probably where it ended up. Thanks for suggesting that." He was glad Rhys was actually listening, unlike most people. Not everyone would bother offering help with something like this, especially when it involved Castaneda business. Rhys stepping up was pretty big. People around him usually stay out of things. He took another sip of his whiskey, already preparing for the inconvenience of retracing his steps. Losing that drive meant starting from scratch on weeks of route mapping, which was exactly the kind of setback he didn't need right before his meeting with Dante. The old man didn't appreciate delays or excuses, and explaining how months of logistics work had vanished wouldn't go over well. "Guess I'll be doing some detective work in the parking lot after this," he said. "You mind keeping me company while I tear my car apart looking for it?"

[rhysx]

━━━Rhys is a little bit old-fashioned when it comes to keeping track of important papers, documents, or even jobs. he prefers to have things on paper, like good old times, mostly because those don’t leave an online trail of activity, the same manner digital documents do —and then, he was never the tech sauve kind of guy, even if he knows his stuff now, he still prefers to stir clear from any online presence when possible. on another plus, Krish wouldn’t be looking for a tiny little flash drive if he had printed whatever was on that. but he doesn’t seek to make the other man feel worse about losing it, hence doesn’t say anything, especially when he can tell it is something of importance to him. “sounds like a fun way to spend time,” he responded, his tone betraying that he only meant to tease, there was no ill intend or sarcasm. “I hope it’s worth whatever you have on that thing though,” he laughed, still a light tone carrying through his voice.

[nazlixelmas]

Nazli held the door open long enough for Rhys to step through before slipping in behind him, the chime above the door giving its usual soft ring. The shop smelled faintly of rosewater and sandalwood, with the lingering sweetness of baked almonds warming the air. “Work’s been slower than usual,” she confirmed, brushing her fingers against a velvet-lined display case as they passed. “Spring’s supposed to be good for business—proposals, anniversaries, new beginnings and all that. But I guess people are too distracted to fall in love this season.”

She tilted her head slightly, casting him a glance as she reached for the kettle. “Or maybe they’re just busy stirring drama like you,” she added, a wry smile tugging at her lips. Once the tea was steeping, she grabbed a small plate and began arranging the almond cookies with far more care than necessary. “You ever think about that, though?” she asked lightly. “What you’d do if the drama stopped finding you? Or would that just be boring?” She slid the plate toward him and settled into the seat across the counter, eyes warm but curious. “No judgment either way. I’ve just always wondered what you’d do with a quiet life.”

[rhysx]

━━━he heard her response with a faint, unbetrayed amusement; love, proposals, marriage. why would someone wish to put themselves in such a vulnerable state, to make plans and dreams with another person who might as well not truly reciprocate the feeling? perhaps he is too guarded or too cynical for romance, and he would not let himself immerse into this kind of weakness —evidently, as he had walked out on the woman he had loved because he could not bring himself to accept the feeling ( or, most of all; could not risk her not feeling the same ). “hard to think this city is the ideal backdrop for romance,” he responded, nonchalantly, but matter of factly. he sat on one of the chairs, taking in the care that she had put into every detail of her displays; the way the flowers were arranged, the way the light fell, even the subtle smells and music. when she spoke again, the ghost of a smirk tugged on the corner of his lips, but he didn’t respond. he doesn’t like drama; but somehow, it always finds him.

a quiet life, Nazli said and it sounded so alien, so foreign. it had never been on his mind to lead a quiet, perhaps normal, life —it is not in the cards for him. he has grown up in chaos, it has grown in him in a way that he cannot shake, and he doesn’t really want to, either. a simple life would mean he’d have to be someone else, entirely, and Rhys didn’t think his priorities could ever shift in such a dramatic manner. “it’s not for everyone,” he responded after a moment —certainly not for him. “I wouldn’t know what to do with a quiet life,” he half teased, even if it wasn’t a lie; everything about his life wasn’t normal, not even his pet. “is this what you want?” there was this air about her that made him think she’d be a good mom, a good wife; like some people fall naturally into this role.

[blackbcxwarning]

one thing bianca hated was waiting. one thing she hated even more than that was waiting on a man. a man that asked her to meet him, even if it was just business. she lifted the martini to her red painting lips, enjoying the drink she'd ordered until he slipped onto a stool next to her. "uh huh," she spoke, her head turning in his direction as she set the glass down in front of her, "next time, let's try to keep things on time." she didn't like excuses and she'd made that clear any time the two of the encountered each other. her eyebrows lifted in interest at the sound of a job and she offered him a single nod in response, "what kind of job? let me hear the details."

[rhysx]

━━━Rhys would not argue it was only a couple of minutes; it would have been crucial if it was a job, even if it had been a couple of seconds, so she was right. besides, he had asked her to meet, he should have been waiting on her, not the other way around. nevertheless, he made no further comment on it, there was no use. “the kind you are the best at,” a matter-of-fact tone, as if it was the only appropriate answer —or more like, she was going to be the distraction while he up and finished whatever job he had taken up this time. they had worked together in the past and he only ever shared just enough information, the details that she absolutely had to be aware of; both so things would spill, as well as so she wouldn’t get in trouble if he was caught as she would really not know all the deets. “how do you feel about spending Sunday evening chatting to a bunch of renowned businessmen?” it was only half teasing.

[fairplcy-deactivated20250826]

Kai nodded as Rhys spoke, taking in his request. A smirk played at the corner of his lips. "You have good taste." He said, his tone approving. "And if you're looking for something truly unique, Alexandrite and Black Opal are a good place to start." He paused for a moment, his gaze fixed on Rhys' face as if sizing him up. There was an air of arrogance about him, and Kai couldn't help but find it both amusing and intriguing. Or perhaps that’s was just him projecting. "In fact, Alexandrite is a unique gemstone, known for its ability to change colors under different lighting. A blue Diamond is always a classic, and an Emerald is a popular choice as well." He added, a smirk on his lips. "But a Black Opal or Red Diamond? Now those are a bit more interesting. A true mark of individualism to add to your jewelry collection."

[rhysx]

━━━he knows gemstones and diamonds only because he has helped smuggle them more than a handful of times when he was younger; otherwise, the information given wouldn’t sound vaguely familiar. however, it’s pleasant that the man also knows what he is talking about, the level of professionalism one would expect from someone who has been in the business for years. Now that he thought of it, blue diamond sounded a little boring in comparison to other options. “let’s start with Alexandrite then,” he settled on; maybe a red diamond would be a better choice for a later time, so it doesn’t seem like an overstepping —funny, how even in a gesture like this there is calculation in it, thought, not just an act out of wishing to simply gift something to one. “I don’t mind the price,” he also stated, just so the other would not be limited to what he’d show him, “but I’d prefer a more delicate design.”

[liloubaudelaire]

⸻

JULY, 4TH

She hates this time of the year. For only ONE reason. FIREWORKS. Which reminds her of FIRE, and fire brings a bad memory. It wasn't the noises themselves that made her startled; it was seeing the fire dancing freely in the air. Fire once used to be a symbol of survival, from all the freezing Siberian winters. Until, in an instant, it transformed into a symbol of her nightmares. Sasha was scattered perhaps not really focusing as she sould at work, or on her motherhood duties. Her brother and sister used to laugh it off: “Don’t be silly, it’s just fire.” And Sasha would always snap back: “But you weren’t there. You don’t know what it’s like to be surrounded by it.”

Sasha originally thought in asked if Nazli could stay with her twins, so she could be alone, the truth is, she is so scared tha she felt unable to leaving home. The fear had settled in her chest like a stone, heavy and unmoving. Somehow she managed to put her little ones to sleep, doing the basic, but always in hyper-alert to every pop and crackle outside. Every window was shut. Every curtain drawn. She tugged the twins in their cribs on their room and went to her bed. Mima sensed that her owner wasn't well, and wasn't pleased with the fireworks sounds. Jack was by her side on the bed. Part of her wondering if her grey parrot noticed she was distressed or even noticed her panic attack she had couple of times early the same day.

And then a knock. Funny, she wasn't expecting any visitors, she was so caught up on her phobia to fire that, she really wasn't paying attention to the world outside that day. She could've texted Demir, but also didn't do it. She didn’t text anyone. She stood up from her bed, and picked up a gun, and also a knife, putting the knife in a hidden spot of her hoodie, and the gun remains on her hand. She knew it wasn't Alexei, he'd announce his arrival with dramatic flair, probably holding a music box in one hand and a microphone in the other, yelling her name like some Broadway villain. He was that brand of corny.

Still caught in that frayed, half-feral state, Sasha didn’t even glance through the peephole. It was late. She opened the door with the gun already raised. Yup. That man is this level of corny. It was late at night anyway. She opens the door already pointed the gun, to see him. Her grey parrot was perched on her shoulder, squawked in distress, puffing her feathers in protest. He hated this visitor. ❛ Where is my meth? ❜ The parrot demanded, agitated, mimicking some old echo it had learned long ago. Sasha didn’t lower the gun. ❛ What are you doing here? ❜ She asked, her voice low. Controlled, but barely. A tear clung to the corner of her eye, refusing to fall.

@rhysx

[rhysx]

━━━there were a lot of times through the year she’d come to mind, involuntarily once more, but there were also certain dates, like a New Year’s or the fourth of July for instance, that he’d think of her without fail; of her fear, the sheer crippling panic that took over her when fireworks would go off. the first time it happened he had been a little perplexed, but then he understood this is deeply rooted inside her, the way memories creep up and she gets stuck relieving a time of her life she was too young to remember, but she does. knowing she was in town now, he couldn’t help but propose they could drive out of town, far away where she wouldn’t have to hear the fireworks go off, where she would feel safe, but she had said she wasn’t able to leave and he hadn’t pressed. it could be because of her father, Alexei, or because she found it a most polite way to refuse, even if he thinks she wouldn’t have an issue telling him to fuck right off in his face if that had been the case.

he had headed home after his shift ended, but whatever plans he had made were altered when the image of her battling an ongoing panic attack all through the evening and night was etched in his mind and this year he knew she was close, so letting it go was hard. without giving it too much thought, whilst being fully aware he was probably the last person she would want checking up on her ( let alone at this hour at night ) he drove to her place —and if she told him to go to hell, so be it.

the door was pulled open abruptly, his gaze immediately fixated on her. his blue eyes shifted to the gun pointed at him for a mere split second and then to the parrot on her shoulder and the peculiar greeting —and he thought that Reaper was an antisocial little scumbag. “visiting,” he retorted in a matter of fact tone as he met her grey-blue hues once more. her eyes betrayed how frail her nerves were despite of how well composed she seemed, how in control. he walked closer, the muzzle of the gun pressed against his chest as he did. “thought you could use some company,” he teased, halfheartedly; even if there was no point in dancing around why he was there, as if he hadn’t seen her in this state before, or he didn’t know why she was so affected. but he came to distract her, help her feel better, and grounded, not remind her of it. “you are always this welcoming?” he added a short moment later with a faint scoff, pushing his way inside.

[labyrinthinesyndicatex]

CLOSED STARTER

LOCATION: Graveyard FOR: @rhysx

Grant lit a cigarette and took a long drag, watching Rhys walk between the headstones like he owned the place. The cemetery was quiet except for some bird making noise in the trees overhead. Not the worst spot for a conversation that needed to stay private - dead people were excellent at keeping secrets. He'd been here maybe ten minutes, just killing time and thinking about nothing in particular when he spotted Rhys making his way over. The whole thing felt a little ridiculous, honestly. Meeting in a graveyard like they were in some movie, but whatever worked. "What's so important that we're meeting at a cemetery?" Grant asked, flicking ash onto the grass and waited. Emergency meetings usually meant bad news, and there'd been enough of that lately to last him a lifetime. Could be family business, could be something about the new crew causing problems, could be anything really. Grant had learned not to guess - easier to just wait and let people tell him what they needed to tell him.

[rhysx]

━━━things might have been a little quiet now, but there was still a plan in motion; he wouldn’t have put himself in this position after all, it wasn’t like he needed a job, but he needed the access. Rhys is good at working in the shadows, undetected, unnoticed, but doing that in an environment with strict security and close surveillance is neither easy nor always possible. his plan was going smoothly until there was a second security appointed on his shifts; a little extra security, they said, and he had agreed, the members of the Castaneda family had to be protected, but silently, he worked a plan to get rid of them, even if for a short while.

“don’t look so grim,” it was half serious, half teasing, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. “maybe it’ll come in handy…” they are working for a crime family, after all, it is not out of the question how they’d deal with betrayal. he passed him a file as he came up to him a moment later —there was no need to waste their time. “here.”

[kinghenryviii-i-am]

Henry Cavill at the ‘Justice League’ premiere on November 13, 2017 in Hollywood, CA 💥 💥 💥