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@levyegorov
@hopesiick

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                   â please, love me â
          but, those words catch in my throat.Â
              you deserve so much more, so much better
                      than these jagged pieces
                   these shards of what i used to be
                         because, in the end,Â
                    they will only [ cut ] you down
                      && you deserveâŠÂ BETTER
@rowankingsley
@rowankingsley
â ft. rowan kingsleyâ:
ă đŻđ”đȘđŒđ±đ«đȘđŹđŽ á”á”Êž Âčâ°á”ʰ, ÂČâ°ÂČâ° ă
When Lev began speaking, Rowan truly did think she was going to be able to grin and bear it like she had done more than once before, her palms pressing hard into the metal hood of her Nissan. Â The whole spiel about how it never shouldâve happened, how it shouldnât happen againâthat she had heard so many times before she was nearly unfazed by it. Â That she could steel herself through and make it to the other side like a professional. Â But he kept talking; and as he kept talking the speech became individualized to him and the roots of it planted in her heart, weaving through her chest cavity like years had passed.
As he complimented her, she couldnât even begin to process what it made her feel before it appeared on her faceâher lip curling in disgust, and her feet prompt into movement by the words. Â She slid off of the hood of the car, grabbing the plate of cookies and placing them on a standing ashtray in a one swoop movement. Â Her eyes didnât fall back on him until heâd finished talking, her standing at the ashtray with her arms crossed over her chest. Â It wasnât until her gaze reached his face that she realized why his rejection had wracked her resolve in a way it hadnât ever before, it wasnât until then that she understood what she was feeling. Â It was disappointment. Â Not in the situation, but in him. She had thought that he had seen her, and not just for all the feminine adjectives she used in her novels, words used to describe the âgreatest girl everâ. Â But for her strength, her ability to adapt, the way she navigated the polarity between the two worlds she knew so well with grace. Â His words made it clear that he hadnât, and that realization ripped those roots that had been deeply wound in her chest right out, her hand gripping at her chest as it manifested as a sharp pain shooting through her chest. Â She had made it all up in her head, she had romanticized the shit out of him and was paying the price for it. Â
âOkayâ She spoke simply, already moving toward the driverâs seat of her car.  What else was there to say, what was she supposed to say?  âItâs okay, I understand why you wouldnât even want to tryâ? She couldnât bring herself to do itâŠbut she also couldnât bring herself to drive away without saying anything at all.  With her door open, feet grinding in the gravel she was parked on she looked at him again, opening and closing her mouth a few times as if she was at a loss for words.  The wordsmith stunned to silence. Â
âYa knowâŠI could rip each and every one of your arguments to shreds but that would be just about pathetic enough to put me in my grave, so Iâll settle for this: Iâm not naive enough to think that when you lay down in bed tonight youâll think of me, but if I do happen to cross your mind tonight, do this for me.  Take a moment to comb over everything you just said and see if you can find any place where I was included in your narrativeâand not as an excuse or a deflection.  See if you can find anything, because I sure canât.â  The midnight haired woman spoke in a raspy voice, the wind catching her hair every so often as she spoke.  When she finished she shot him a sad grin, shaking her head as she moved to sit, but stopping midway to speak again.  âIâm not a kid so I donât have very many âfirstsâ left to record, but that was the first time someoneâs used so many words to tell me they werenât choosing me too.â  Rowan gave a tiny, airy laugh before sitting herself in her car and starting the engine. Â
ă đŻđ”đȘđŒđ±đ«đȘđŹđŽ á”á”Êž Âčâ°á”ʰ, ÂČâ°ÂČâ° ă
             Lev Yegorov wasnât a man unknown to selfishness or unaware of its existance inside of him. Heâd been raised in such a violent, traumatic â and later on cold and deciplined â environment that if it werenât for his siblings and his need for self-preservation, he wouldâve never made it to the other side sane. When he thought about everything he had achieved ( from carrying through his grandmotherâs name, to becoming a well-respected fighter and a accounted for asset to the people of Valencia ) and the people heâd let in along the way... The thought of losing any of that shook his core with the kind of paralyzing fear that took him back to being a little boy who didnât yet know how to chase bad dreams away. An all-consuming emotion, igniting the need to do damage control before itâd even begun. It didnât matter that her actual presence and influence did nothing but good to him. The man who led a life of risk couldnât bring himself to risk losing Damienâs friendship or walk down the path of having Rowan become more and more important to him only so that he could inevitably lose her, too. Not because they could end like most relationships do, but because giving her his all meant sucking her into the blackness in the center of his heart, poisoning the rest of it like a vice that fed off other peopleâs blood to grow.
In that way, when it came to the after... Heâd only thought of her when the aftermath came to mind. Lev was a firm believer that he couldnât choose to share his life with someone just to ruin them or keep them at armâs length. Heâd lost friends to prison. Heâd lost them to death way before their years. Heâd witnessed their partners, people he looked after as if they were his own blood, swear and curse the moment they let themselves get into this mess. And, every time he went out there and did what was necessary, he lost a little piece of himself too. He could never escape or ditch that side of the organization â a side he thought wouldnât phase him twenty years ago. But when it happened again, and again, and again... It took a toll on him. Itâd take a toll on anyone with a conscience. He was a man whoâd vowed to seize the day and give the people he loved all that he could, because chances were heâd be taken from them either by prison or death. Standing in front of the woman who made his heart sink and telling her the truth was the selfless choice. If he hadnât included her in his narrative, like sheâd just accused him of, he wouldâve shrugged off the very real reprecautions of his actions and continued on with their secret, late-night meetings. He wouldâve continued to lure her in by the seemingly free and careless front of his lifestyle until she got ruined by the blood on his hands or sought a way out â just because he wanted to be with her. Heâd chosen her by letting her go.
âIâveââ The man cleared his throat one more time. âI think of you almost every night.â It was like his voice had lost its vivid colors. He had a feeling that she was no longer listening. âI donât think you believe me though.. Not when you talk about me makinâ up excuses.â It dawned upon him that, part of the reason why she looked so disappointed in him, was because she thought he was lying just to get her out of the way. The particular realization irked him. Why would she think that he was making shit up just to break up with her? In reality, heâd be making excuses if he stayed. "You clearly donât wanna be here right now,â he murmured, his hands diving into his pockets. She made it clear by getting in the car and starting the engine. âI donât blame you. But youâve known me for a while now. If you hate me any less one of these days, ask yourself if Iâve ever lied to you or pretended about the slightest thing. Hope you at least know the answer to that.â His jaw clenched as his head lowered. âGânight, Rowan. Iâm sorry.â
â đđ·đ.
â ft. acacia orozco:
Flashback
Acacia nodded, relieved that she hadnât caused him any undue harm. For a moment, her lips tipped up at the humor in her voice. From their brief collision, she knew he was solid, and that quick glance was enough for her to register his size. The woman could probably run into him at full speed, and sheâd still bounce off of him. His observation made her freeze. Was it that obvious? Pressing a little more into the wall as if she could make herself disappear, acacia shook her head no at his questions.Â
She managed to look up to meet his eyes, not hiding the bruises on her face and around her neck. âPlease..â she begged softly. âPlease donât ask that..donât make me tell. Heâll kill me if I tell,â Acacia pleaded softly, Gioâs warning ringing in her ears. She almost sounded childlike, and once again that night, her wide doe eyes started to tear up. Her arms tightened around herself a little more, as if she could physically hold herself together. Her warm, brown eyes caught on his mouth. She noted the slight puffiness there, and knew first hand what it felt like.Â
âYouâre hurt, too,â she pointed out, her voice still soft. Impatiently, she swiped at her cheek, as if the harsher she was with herself, the faster sheâd be able to hide away any hint of tears. The fear in her expression shifted into concern for him. âAre you okay?â
It was so much easier to focus on this stranger, to push away all of the pain and aches she felt in favor of someone else. Everything was so fresh, so overwhelming..focusing on this man (even if only for a few moments) was a welcome reprieve from the thoughts swirling around her mind.
ă đŻđ”đȘđŒđ±đ«đȘđŹđŽ. ă
            Even though Lev was almost certain of the nature of the womanâs injuries as it was, the pure fear in her trembling voice that accompanied her confession erased any room for an alternative. He felt his bearded jaw clench and heard the threat in his voice when he said âNo, he wonât.â A moment of pause occured, where the Bone Breaker let out a frustrated sign before attempting to soften his tone. That woman was terrified already, his angry promises couldnât possibly be of any help. Smart hues scanned the block quickly, expectedly, and then added âNobodyâs here except for us. Nobody can hear ya.â Would that little piece of information be able to give her some hope? Was there really anything he could say that would be of help?Â
The shift of focus onto him came only as a slight surprise. The shock of the encounter made him forget about the marks on his face. Once again, he didnât look like the most reliable stranger, did he? âOh yeah, itâs nothinâ. Iâm a fighter.. I work at the Rogues Club. Itâs where these are from.â A finger circled around his face, pointing at the slight damage done. Nothing he hadnât grown used to over the years. Certainly nothing in comparison to the circumstances that gave her her marks. What if those on her face werenât the only ones? What if there was an internal bleeding somewhere? âListen, tellinâ me that name can wait...for now. But you need to get checked up, yeah? I can take you to the hospital if you want. I got a couple friends thatâll get you better without you havinâ to wait all night in line.â Friends was a loose term. The whole Valencia Medical Center was built after his grandma took over the leadership of the organization. Lev knew half the staff in there.

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â ft. acacia orozcoâ.
closed || @levyegorovâ location || the streets of Red Ridge { FLASHBACK } Acacia was in a daze. Sheâd slipped out of the restaurant, and luckily avoided being seen on her way out. Her heart was still racing after being attacked, and every step seemed to exacerbate the pain. Slender arms curled around her midsection as if to offer extra protection should her boyfriend - ex-boyfriend reappear out of nowhere. If the ache from her ribs was any indication, sheâd need to take some time before trying to get another job. Breathing hurt, moving hurt, and she could feel bruises blooming across her body. She couldnât bring herself to look in a mirror or window yet, but tentative probing with her fingers told her that she had a black eye as well as bruises on her cheek and neck. Tears stung her eyes as she did that small check, though not because of physical pain. Gio had been her boy friend and her best friend. It was stupid of her to think that someone who claimed to love her wouldnât hurt her like this. He wasnât even the first. Her parents had claimed to love her and theyâd beaten her plenty, though in terms of violence, Gio certainly won. Add to that, the people at the restaurant, the kitchen staff as well as front of staff, had all been her family. And sheâd lost them just like sheâd lost the first one sheâd had. And it had been just as fast.
As she teetered through the town, swaying a little with each step, Acacia curled in on herself. It was instinct to make herself smaller, but now especially, she didnât want to invite any questions. Going home was out of the question. She was too afraid of what she would (or wouldnât) find there. Gio had a key to her place just as she had a key to his. What if he wasnât satisfied with letting her leave? What if he tossed her place just for the hell of it? Her arms tightened a little around herself as she walked. Who could she turn to? Nearly everyone she knew was through the industry and Gio had made it abundantly clear what would happen if she said anything to anyone about the attack. Hell, heâd made it clear that he was going to do everything he could to blackball her as it was. Thoughts tumbled though her mind, and they only paused when she collided with someone else. Acacia bounced off of them and instantly moved away from them so that her back was against the wall of whatever store they were outside of. âI-I..Iâm so sorry,â she chirped out, keeping her head down. âI shouldâve watched where I was going..are you okay?â She risked a quick glance up, her heart in her throat before looking away. Her long dark hair fell in a curtain, as if by virtue of that alone, she could keep her injuries at least somewhat hidden.
ă đŻđ”đȘđŒđ±đ«đȘđŹđŽ ă
                  Lev knew the streets of Red Ridge like every cut on his ever-bruised knuckles. He knew that, by the time he stepped out of Rogues Club at 3:15am, the South was far asleep while the North was just then getting awake. Despite his deep ties to Valencia, his own apartment was located closer to the South â away from all the buzzing and noise thatâd make his long nights truly restless. Walking back to his place was a habit acquired only recently, though ( he had enough people scratching his bike after being dumb enough to bet against him ). Day after day, he came and left alone; away from people who could see the look on his face as he exited the pit.Â
He didnât expect to see anyone else on the streets this late, let alone feel someone bump into him. The kind of lifestyle heâd grown up into had to be blamed for his tendencies bouncing from suspicion to violence, the petite personâs instant withdrawl to the wall behind them being the thing that saved them from an instictive reaction to tuggle them to the ground as if they were some attacker trying to ambush him. Fiery azure hues pierced on the figure, his whole body tense, for the one moment before a feminine voice spoke. One more second passed before the fighter realized there was no danger there. His muscles relaxed as an apologetic expression formed on his facial features. âItâs okay, it happens.â The right corner of his bottom lip, slightly puffed and pained from a punch that landed there, involunterily curved into a little smirk as he listen to her concern of hurting him. She canât be more than 5âČ2. âYeah, yeah. Iâm fine. Still in one piece.â
Any humor thatâd laced his tone a minute ago, vanished as soon as he caught sight of something all too familiar; something the stranger was trying to cover with the help of shadows and her own hair. âHey, is thatââ Had it not been for the street lamp nearby that lit her face, offering a contrast that allowed him to notice what she obviously wished to hide, he couldâve missed it. âYouâre hurt.â His statement was every bit obvious and intrucive at once, but Lev pushed anyway. Heâd never seen this woman before, certainly not in the Rogues Club as one of the fighters or those in debt. Besides, her stance â sheltering her body as if she could make it smaller by hugging her arms around it â made it clear to him that someone else had done this to her. âMiss, are you okay? Who did this to ya?"
â ft. rowan kingsleyâ.
ă đŻđ”đȘđŒđ±đ«đȘđŹđŽ á”á”Êž Âčâ°á”ʰ, ÂČâ°ÂČâ° ă
âI do.â Rowan spoke through laughs, smacking his shoulder playfully.  âLike thisâŠâ She whispered, a delicate finger tracing his eyebrow once again by memory, her eyes drifting toward his lips instead.  âThe guy you were fightingâŠwhen heâs considering a right hook he takes a half step back for he does it.  I saw it coming.â  Something about the way she spoke was sultry, like what she was saying was intimate despite how she reared back to mimic his opposition. âOf course I do.  Iâve seen you fight more than I have anyone elseâŠI wonât tell you what I see thoughâŠI donât want you to overthink it.â She gave a small laugh, distance closing just slightly between them as she leaned forward onto her free palm that laid flat next to the remaining cookies, shoulders squeezed into a shrug.  âYou donât know. Yâknow, I think that might be up to you to not give me a reason to go to the enemy with my intel.â The brunette met his tease with her own, a wicked grin crossing lips that were just dying to claim his ownâuntil she was stopped dead in her tracks.
And then it was loud again, her brain giving her no less than a bakerâs dozen directives on how to get out, to stop the train wreck of words that were about to slip his lips.  Words he probably thought he would be the first to say, words he probably thought were unique to him, words he probably didnât realize she saw coming form the second the anxious hesitation crossed his face.  As he pulled her hand from his face, she pulled it from his grasp and into her lap, her eyes growing dark like the pine forests sheâd rather be lost in than face the inevitability of their conversation.  Sheâd had this conversation with a quarter dozen men from the time she was a teenager to now, sparing Serafin whose words veered sideways into her being a secret.  Her identity as a person again trumped by her identity as Damienâs sister. She loved being Damienâs sister, they were closer than any other sibling pair she knew, but it didnât mean she wasnât disappointed when people couldnât see that her personhood was more complex than that. Â
And that made her feel like a fool.  A fool for thinking even for a second that because it had been different for her that it had been for him too.  Just because he quieted her brain didnât mean she did anything for him.  It was like she had been dropped from a magnetic field, eyes that had been bound together by an invisible force causing them to search each other out when their energies crossed, now drifting.  Rowanâs eyes fell from his, hovering somewhere between the the peaks of his cheek bones and his collar bone, her head falling to the side.  The dark haired woman squared her shoulders as if bracing herself for impact, sitting up a little straighter as to not feel like the small child these conversations tended to make her feel like.  âIâm listeningâ She breathed out, as if she hadnât just hardened before his eyes.  âWhatâs on your mind?â They both had to know that she already knew the answer to that, despite how desperately she tried to iron out the emotion in her words as she spoke. Â
The writer in her had already drawn their conversation to a close, assumed the ending and was mourning the potential the pages never metâand it showed. Her mind was racing 8 different ways, one seeming to venture into the parts of her brain she had done everything she could to bar access to. Maybe it was a good thingâat least this time she would walk away knowing she hadnât fucked it up. He hadnât given her a chance to. The opposite had happened with Raf, having dragged on far longer than its expiration, she had fucked up fifty different ways before he turned his back on her. Â
ă đŻđ”đȘđŒđ±đ«đȘđŹđŽ á”á”Êž Âčâ°á”ʰ, ÂČâ°ÂČâ° ă
              Lev almost heard a pop the second the bubble around them burst. He watched Rowanâs whole stance, attitude and demeanor change, as a pained expression took over his own facial features. Heâd witnessed her withdraw before, but never around him; never because of him. If he didnât have at least half a brain, then that would be as good of an opportunity as any to comment on the fact heâd given her a reason to go to the enemy with intel about his fighting habits five fucking seconds after sheâd playfully warned him against it. He couldnât though, not when their playfulness vanished before his eyes. âIââ If the older man had a clue as to how to phrase his concerns properly, that heartbreaking look on her face threw it out of the window. Heâd much rather study her, find out what went through her mind that made her eyes turn so dark, and then wipe all of that sadness away.
Before he even phrased a word, heâd already let her down. How the fuck was he going to fix that? There was some hope reflecting in the blue of his eyes still, but deep down his gut warned him that they couldnât talk it out and go back to how their relationship was before they kissed like heâd hoped.
âRowan⊠IâI canât. This thing between us⊠It shouldnât happen again. I shouldnât have let myself give in in the first place.â When he dealt with business or people who tried to mingle with that business, Lev had learned to be diplomatic and pull aces off his sleeve â or his ass. But when the girl he liked stared back at him with hurt in her eyes, he couldnât sugarcoat things or lean her on to clear his name. He had to be completely honest and lay the cards down on the table all at once. âYouâreâŠincredible. The greatest girl ever.â Truly. She was intelligent, beautiful, perceptive, and carried a warmth within her that soaked anyone in her presence. While he blamed himself for getting carried away, he couldnât question why he felt so drawn to her. âIâm not talkinâ bullshit, I mean it. I donât understand how the hell you chose me.â He couldnât describe what urged him to reassure her he was being genuine, but he wouldnât start ignoring his own intuition then. âBut youâre also my best friendâs sister.â Lev ran a calloused hand through his short blond locks as he let out a frustrated sigh. âDamien is never gonna forgive me. Hell, heâs never gonna look at me again if you and I go further.â Something in his own words stung and made him want to bite his tongue. He didnât want to put the blame of his decision on the other man. âI donât blame him. Damien⊠He knows me. He knows how things in my life work because of what I do.â He knew all about when the Rogues Club doors close to the public at midnight â when the people in debt are tossed in the pit for him to torture for not paying their debt in time. While the Bone Breaker hadnât opened up to anyone about what this aspect of his lifestyle did to him, not even his best friend, the other man knew heâd never been able to make a relationship last because of it. âEven you know a part of it, donât you?â All he had was suspicions. It was possible that his friend hadnât shared classified information about how their organization worked and punished, but his gut told him otherwise. Even if Damien had never said a word to his little sister, Rowan had spent her whole life surrounded by the people of Valencia. She had to have known. âIf we got together.. Iâd eventually do the same with you too, and youââ Youâd see me differently. Youâd choose to leave. âItâd be shitty of me to lean you on with empty promises when I know how this works.â
Oliver in 3x03 Corto Maltese.Â
Because of reasons.

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â ft. serafin mosquedaâ.
STATUS: closed for @levyegorovâ
LOCATION: rogueâs club // 3am
âYou look like shit.â The Latino shot the younger man a grin, shoving his hands deep into his front pockets as he sauntered into the backroom of rogueâs. The weight of the later fights weighed heavy on the both of them, and Serafin knew he it. Serafin called the shots, and Lev and the other Bone Breakers were the ones to carry them out. Complicity weighed just as heavy. Their banter, their chuckles, their attempts to lighten the mood didnât cause it to waver, but that didnât stop them from trying.  âFeelâs like weâve bene dealinâ out more punishments than tickets to the tourists lately, brother..â He sighed, head rolling to the side as his eyes finally met the otherâs. Â
â
                 A humored snort was released as soon as the Bone Breaker heard his friend speak. âAsshole. You saw the other guy, right?â An almost empty beer bottle was brought to his lips, the liquid slipping to the left corner and leaving an annoying sting where the other manâs fist had landed, causing a small split. That hadnât stopped him from doing his part â breaking three fingers of the knuckles that punched him â or joking about it then. After all, what the hell were all of them supposed to do with themselves at 3am if they didnât try to make the mood just a little lighter? âYeah..â The blond male downed the last sip of his drink before letting out a sigh and darting his eyes to meet his friendâs. So much for a lighter mood. âIt counts for somethinâ though, yeah? The wordâs gettinâ out.. People are gonna start payinâ up on time.â Or so he hoped. They had to. Valencia was a business that kept the town safe, not a wish granting factory. Anita Yegorova and her crew were many things, but not fools ( even if the vast majority of them would prefer a fair fight just for the fun of it than torture and punishment ). âYouâll see, your sorry ass is gonna be out of work soon.â
â ft. rowan kingsleyâ.
ă đŻđ”đȘđŒđ±đ«đȘđŹđŽ á”á”Êž Âčâ°á”ʰ, ÂČâ°ÂČâ° ă
âHey sugar..â Rowan breathed out, the words ghosting into the air like a secret, her plush lips twisting into a smirk as she reached out, the pad of her thumb grazing his split brow as if to heal it. Â She knew it was coming. Â The little brunette had seen it coming, possibly even before Lev had. Â Lev had gone low, and his opponent took a half step backâthat was his tell for a right hook; he did it every time. Â It was a cheap shot, and they all knew it. Â But, it also certainly wasnât the manâs first use of itâafter all, whatâs a tell without prior knowledge? âYou didnât make me do anything.â Her smirk evolved into a wicked grin, the palm of her hand still pressed to the side of his face despite how her thumb had stilled over his wound. Â Â If she hadnât wanted to wait, she would have been long gone.
Up close, she could have drowned in the blue of his eyes. Â Something about them, something about him eased her nerves, quieting her brain to a dull humâquiet she had never known until him. Â Ease she had never known until him. Â To anyone who hadnât lived with it their whole life living with Rowanâs brain would be hell, it would send a normal person spinning in circles, frantically seeking the exit. Â She had never known moments where she could process the words flying through her head, taking time to put them in meaningful order in the moment. Â No, that had always come later. Â Thatâs what had made her a writer. Â Her insecurities, short comings, worries, and trains of thought ending up in organized lists split between fifty different characters covering her apartment. Â But with him she found peace, and she would be stupid not to soak it up. Â
The second the cookies had been picked up she claimed their spot, hopping up so that she was sitting on the hood of her car, her dress riding up just slightly as she did.  âYou should have said something!â Rowan laughed, nudging his shoulder with her fingertips.  âI baked about 8 dozen for a pre-teenâs birthday sleepover yesterday.â  An extra couple of dozen wouldnât have been any extra work.  His batch was entirely separate, fresh from the oven only a couple of hours before.  In the moment, she hadnât been quite sure if it had made her pathetic to have baked for him like a little kid or not, but seeing him enjoy them had been enough for her to sidestep that thought.  âOh so you did that for me?â  A mischievous smirk danced across Rowanâs face, a quirked brow appearing as it did.  âIt doesnât bore meâŠI like watching.  I think itâs fun to watch you guysâ thought process as you choose what to do..â She gave a small chuckle, her head falling to the side as she eyed him, bottomless green eyes trained on his face.
ă đŻđ”đȘđŒđ±đ«đȘđŹđŽ á”á”Êž Âčâ°á”ʰ, ÂČâ°ÂČâ° ă
                     Levâs brother often joked that Lev put on his âBig Bad shoesâ when Valencia needed him â which was almost every night. Despite the fact that he would always roll his eyes and smack the back of the younger Yegorovâs neck in response, it wasnât really a far-fetched comment. Stepping inside the pit meant harnessing every bit of anger, despair, violence and control that had forged, shaped and hurt him. When he stepped out of it, however, he had to leave it all behind. He had to focus on the good things ahead or else heâd lose his damn mind. When Lev wasnât a Bone Breaker, he was a guy who grabbed life by the throat, seized each day without thinking ahead into his future and accessed control only when he deemed it to be absolutely necessary.
He hated every inch of his brain that told him Rowanâs case was an absolutely necessary situation.Â
For every second he ignored that voice, the louder it screamed back at him, warning him that nothing could come out of this in the long run except the ruin of a lifetime long friendship and the staining of the best thing thatâd happened to him in a long while. You canât keep anyone around you. Not for long. Not like this. That peace of mind that Rowan offered him... He couldnât bask in it, for he knew that the blackness of his lifestyle ( a lifestyle he could never escape if he tried, not with his blood and last name tying him to it for life ), embedded into his soul, would inevitably ruin it; ruin them. The hard truth that would accompany him for the rest of his life was that heâd picked a path with no return many years ago, without fully grasping all of the good things heâd miss. With the way things were, the way the organization was run, it meant that, when push came to shove, he had to prioritize Valenciaâs needs over his partnerâs. He didnât want to fuck things up with her, which was why he had to hit the breaks before they reached a point of no return.
If only she didnât make taking a step back so...damn...difficult. He leaned into her touch as if heâd felt it a million times before. His shoulders released some of their tension, loosening in a way that usually happened after he crashed into his bed. Sheâd always had that calming effect on him â a constant he could look to when everything around him became way too crazy. He used to be weirded out by how she seemed to know what was on his mind most of the time, but heâd grown to embrace it and become completely charmed by it; along with everything else about her. âYou watch our thought process?â he echoed in jest whilst putting the plate back on the hood next to where her hips then sat. Heâd left two for her â he wasnât some greedy monster after all. She could claim the particular ones were made the previous day all she pleased and heâd let her, but they were too warm and soft for that to be true. âDâyou watch mine, too? âCause you know...thatâs dangerous,â he mused. âHow do I know you wonât go to the enemy with that vital information?â The tone in his voice teasing, the gleam of his eyes taunting as he offered a mischievous grin down at her. With his body standing in front of the hood and her feet dangling over it, itâd be so easy to close the distance between them completely â like heâd done the past couple of times they were left alone. The same fingers that had wrapped around necks like a tight vice, wrapped gently around the thin wrist of her creamy hand.
His head almost turned into her touch. His bruised lips almost planted a tender kiss on the pulse point. The more he looked into her inviting, warm gaze, the simpler it seemed to lean down and claim her lips. Instead, after a moment of inner struggle that had to be reflected on the disappointed and anxious expression of his facial features, he slowly pulled her hand down; away from his face. âListen... I, uhâwanted to talk to you about somethinâ; This,â he specified by jesturing between the two of them. Us.
is the blood on your hands dry? Is it slowly disappearing? Mine isnât.
Ashley Mares, from âPsalm of Scattered Ashes,â published in Luna Luna (via lifeinpoetry)
Do you care what others think of you? ; Who would you turn to if you were in desperate need of help?
do you care what others think of you?
jordan cares about what people think of her more than anything â really, truly anything. she canât make peace with the fact that not everyone she comes across will like her, canât accept that there are people you just canât turn. itâs a compulsion, this disease of the brain, that enables her people-pleasing tendencies. a girl raised on the outskirts of her motherâs love will forever feel the cold, and sheâll forever be that girl that looks over her shoulder, watching to see if anyoneâs witnessed her.
which, really, that compulsion in and of itself leads to a vicious cycle: feeling alone, hollowed out, which leads her to love-bombing her friends, which leads to her feeling hollowed out again, which leads to her focusing on everyone elseâs wellbeing, which leads to feeling alone, and so on and so forth. sheâs been to therapy for it on and off, but itâs hard to rewire your brain when thatâs all you know. itâs all-consuming, but sheâd rather burn herself up than face the root of those feelings directly.
all of that bubbles beneath the surface, however, away from prying eyes. jordan has always been especially skilled at hiding behind her bubbly persona â perpetually just out of view â and although her friendliness is genuine, her honesty is not. itâs a farce: a diversion tactic used to distract the viewer from digging any deeper. you canât take the time to focus on anything real when sheâs too busy showering you in all these shiny bits of nothing.Â
on a lighter note though, jordan cares what people think of her, because she wants them to feel safe around her, like they can be their true selves with her â a luxury she, ironically, wonât allow herself. she wants to be the warmth that surrounds them on a cold, winter day; the pair of arms that can make them feel at home anywhere, no matter the circumstance. jordan desperately wants to emit good into the world, purposely wants to touch as many lives as she possibly can, as if to make up for the unending, cosmic sense of guilt she feels; as if to prove that sheâs more than her motherâs daughter.Â
who would you turn to if you were in desperate need of help?
for a moment, jordan thinks itâs a mockery: some sick, twisted way of poking fun at the state of her. her body steels, waiting for an attack that just doesnât come. part of her forgets, sometimes, that curiosity for the sake of it is a thing, and not every bit of information has to come as part of a bargain, tied to something more. the muscles of her face relax, but her body doesnât â canât.
âi dunno.â for once: an honest answer. jordan knows desperation like the back of her hand â sheâs lived in a state of it for years â but that familiarity doesnât draw her any nearer to an answer. no, she doesnât really have anyone that she turns to â doesnât have someone that she can bear to place that burden on. faces flicker by behind her eyes, but none of them stick. her lips purse. alright, maybe one of them does: âlev, i guess.â the one and only constant in her life; a face as familiar to her as her own. âpretty sure he could move the whole damn world if he wanted to.â
one thought unravels another, bringing a new face to light: the worn face of a mentor. a face she so desperately wants to call a father; a face sheâs hopelessly trying to rework into another. itâs a mortifying thought, smearing her in its various shades of watercolor pink. jordan bites down on the inside of her cheek. it doesnât help. âmarrâs got power, too,â which is all sheâll say on that.Â
featuring: @levyegorov, @trialls.
1OO IMPORTANT CHARACTER QUESTIONS
taken from beth kinderman and nikki walkerâs the 100 most important things to know about your character. a good list to help develop a characterâs background, personality, and general aspects.Â
PART 1: THE BASICS
What is your full name?
Where and when were you born?
Who are/were your parents? (Know their names, occupations, personalities, etc.)
Do you have any siblings? What are/were they like?
Where do you live now, and with whom? Describe the place and the person/people.
What is your occupation?
Write a full physical description of yourself. You might want to consider factors such as: height, weight, race, hair and eye color, style of dress, and any tattoos, scars, or distinguishing marks.
To which social class do you belong?
Do you have any allergies, diseases, or other physical weaknesses?
Are you right- or left-handed?
What does your voice sound like?
What words and/or phrases do you use very frequently?
What do you have in your pockets?
Do you have any quirks, strange mannerisms, annoying habits, or other defining characteristics?
PART 2: GROWING UP
How would you describe your childhood in general?
What is your earliest memory?
How much schooling have you had?
Did you enjoy school?
Where did you learn most of your skills and other abilities?
While growing up, did you have any role models? If so, describe them.
While growing up, how did you get along with the other members of your family?
As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?
As a child, what were your favorite activities?
As a child, what kinds of personality traits did you display?
As a child, were you popular? Who were your friends, and what were they like?
When and with whom was your first kiss?
Are you a virgin? If not, when and with whom did you lose your virginity?
If you are a supernatural being (i.e. mage, werewolf, vampire), tell the story of how you became what you are or first learned of your own abilities. If you are just a normal human, describe any influences in your past that led you to do the things you do today.
PART 3: PAST INFLUENCES
What do you consider the most important event of your life so far?
Who has had the most influence on you?
What do you consider your greatest achievement?
What is your greatest regret?
What is the most evil thing you have ever done?
Do you have a criminal record of any kind?
When was the time you were the most frightened?
What is the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you?
If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be, and why?
What is your best memory?
What is your worst memory?
PART 4: BELIEFS & OPINIONS
Are you basically optimistic or pessimistic?
What is your greatest fear?
What are your religious views?
What are your political views?
What are your views on sex?
Are you able to kill? Under what circumstances do you find killing to be acceptable or unacceptable?
In your opinion, what is the most evil thing any human being could do?
Do you believe in the existence of soul mates and/or true love?
What do you believe makes a successful life?
How honest are you about your thoughts and feelings (i.e. do you hide your true self from others, and in what way)?
Do you have any biases or prejudices?
Is there anything you absolutely refuse to do under any circumstances? Why do you refuse to do it?
Who or what, if anything, would you die for (or otherwise go to extremes for)?
PART 5: RELATIONSHIPS W/OTHERS
In general, how do you treat others (politely, rudely, by keeping them at a distance, etc.)? Does your treatment of them change depending on how well you know them, and if so, how?
Who is the most important person in your life, and why?
Who is the person you respect the most, and why?
Who are your friends? Do you have a best friend? Describe these people.
Do you have a spouse or significant other? If so, describe this person.
Have you ever been in love? If so, describe what happened.
What do you look for in a potential lover?
How close are you to your family?
Have you started your own family? If so, describe them. If not, do you want to? Why or why not?
Who would you turn to if you were in desperate need of help?
Do you trust anyone to protect you? Who, and why?
If you died or went missing, who would miss you?
Who is the person you despise the most, and why?
Do you tend to argue with people, or avoid conflict?
Do you tend to take on leadership roles in social situations?
Do you like interacting with large groups of people? Why or why not?
Do you care what others think of you?
PART 6: LIKES & DISLIKES
What is/are your favorite hobbies and pastimes?
What is your most treasured possession?
What is your favorite color?
What is your favorite food?
What, if anything, do you like to read?
What is your idea of good entertainment (consider music, movies, art, etc.)?
Do you smoke, drink, or use drugs? If so, why? Do you want to quit?
How do you spend a typical Saturday night?
What makes you laugh?
What, if anything, shocks or offends you?
What would you do if you had insomnia and had to find something to do to amuse yourself?
How do you deal with stress?
Are you spontaneous, or do you always need to have a plan?
What are your pet peeves?
PART 7: SELF IMAGES & OTHER
Describe the routine of a normal day for you. How do you feel when this routine is disrupted?
What is your greatest strength as a person?
What is your greatest weakness?
If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
Are you generally introverted or extroverted?
Are you generally organized or messy?
Name three things you consider yourself to be very good at, and three things you consider yourself to be very bad at.
Do you like yourself?
What are your reasons for being an adventurer (or doing the strange and heroic things that RPG characters do)? Are your real reasons for doing this different than the ones you tell people in public? (If so, detail both sets of reasonsâŠ)
What goal do you most want to accomplish in your lifetime?
Where do you see yourself in 5 years?
If you could choose, how would you want to die?
If you knew you were going to die in 24 hours, name three things you would do in the time you had left.
What is the one thing for which you would most like to be remembered after your death?
What three words best describe your personality?
What three words would others probably use to describe you?
If you could, what advice would you, the player, give to your character? (You might even want to speak as if he or she were sitting right here in front of you, and use proper tone so he or she might heed your adviceâŠ)
( also for @milacdurel, @delphineh, @adelainelewis )

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crucial muse development questions.  send a number in my inbox to find out more about my character as a person ( because often, the most important things about character development have nothing to do with their shoe size or netflix queue ).
what would completely break your character?
what was the best thing in your characterâs life?
what was the worst thing in your characterâs life?
what seemingly insignificant memories stuck with your character?
does your character work so they can support their hobbies or use their hobbies as a way of filling up the time they arenât working?
what is your character reluctant to tell people?
how does your character feel about sex?
how many friends does your character have?
how many friends does your character want?
what would your character make a scene in public about?
for what would your character give their life?
what are your characterâs major flaws?
what does your character pretend or try to care about?
how does the image your character tries to project differ from the image they actually project?
what is your character afraid of?
( also for @milacdurel, @delphineh and @adelainelewis )
â ft. morgan oâconnell.
âCan you please tell me whatâs so damn important that you asked to meet me here?â Morgan said with a sigh. âAnd in the middle of a funeral for Godâs sake!â She and her team were in charge of saying the last goodbyes to a very wealthy man. His widow paid for everything in cash and even a little more extra to have the cemetery closed and have no one bothering them. It was a little extreme to say the least but she could not go to complain to the woman when she was crying and tried to hug her every change she got, same with her son, a repulsive man that she was dying to kick in the balls. âWell? Speak now or forever hold you tongue!â she told the person in front of her. âI donât want to waste my time, please! My feet are already hurting in these stupid high heels.âÂ
                    Lev felt any words heâd planned get stuck on his throat. Truly, what the hell was he thinking? ( Granted, when it came to his personal life he didnât think ahead in the first place nine times out of ten â which may explain why he got himself into such awkward situations. ) Heâd tried catching Morganâs attention all week. The facts told himâcomforted himâthat sheâd simply been drowning in work. It couldnât be that she avoided him because of what happened between them... Right? The blond man tried to forget about it and wave it off, but failed massively because he couldnât get her input on it. âUh... Hey.â Good. You interrupt a funeral so that you can say âhey.â. Good job, asshole. Lev sighed whilst brushing his fingertips over his short-shaved head. âListenâI know I picked the worst time but... We need to have a chat, yeah? About...yâknow.â Having sex despite the fact weâve known each other our whole lives. âDâyâthink you can spare us five minutes after youâre done? I can wait here. And yâcan...take the heels off or whatever. If itâs more comfortable.â