closed for @ofmusingsxandmayhem​

Tara was ready to pass out, she was so nervous. You see, all her life the identity of her father had been a mystery. For whatever reason, Evelyn never told her daughter the truth about him or how they came together. Every time she asked about him her mother would shake her off and tell her he was ‘nobody worth knowing.’ Her coldness was enough to keep Tara quiet, though she never stopped thinking about him, wondering what he was like or whether he’d known about her. It was only recently that Evelyn changed her tune, finally confiding in her daughter about the man her father was. Or had been, at least. 

With the information granted to her and the connections she had access to, slowly but surely Tara was able to locate him. It hadn’t been easy and there was still a chance that she was wrong, but the only way to find out was to go to him and try. 

Her hands were shaking as she knocked on the door. If it was him, there was no telling how he might receive her. Something in her gut told her it wouldn’t go over well, and to be ready for him to get angry at her. Maybe he wouldn’t even entertain the idea and would send her on her way. Or maybe it would be even worse than that. Maybe he’d lash out or attack her. Her mom had suggested she bring a gun at the very least but Tara wasn’t like that - she didn’t seek out or enjoy violence the way her parents did. Or had. 

She knocked again, this time accompanying it with some words. “Hello? I don’t know if you’re home but I really need to talk to you, sir. I could tell you what it’s about through your door but I don’t think that would be the best idea.”

@ofmusingsxandmayhem​ sent “I don’t recommend revenge. It tends to have repercussions.” from this meme

"Trust me, I know. I’m the walking example of that. Still would feel nice to get even sometimes, though.”

@ofmusingsxandmayhem​

Brixton was a man of patience.  He had been in MI6 and it was useful to him now.  He flexed his fingers off of reflex.  The newest improvements were still settling under his skin.  Typically they didn’t take long, but sometimes it just took a little longer.  He was unhappy that he’d just been told to wait here.  But when orders came from on high in Eteon he still listened.  He did what he was supposed to do.

Every person that walked by trigged his facial recognition, but everyone was not a threat.  His head turned just a little.  “You’re late.”  He said.  “And you were not the face I expected to see here.”  It was like his ghosts just kept popping up.

@ofmusingsxandmayhem subscribed to some serious angst:

Bitterness in his mouth, the taste of blood, his own blood, was the first thing Nick registered when he came to. He spit out the viscous mixture of crimson and mucus even before he could convince his eyes to take in his surroundings. The truth stung like fire and he immediately shut his eyes again tightly. No, no, no. He wasn't in his home, in his basement, in his chains where he had transformed.

More exhausted than usual Nick propped his weight on his elbows, then attempted to sit up. He opened his eyes again. Slowly. Cautiously. Scared. His house came into view. Shattered glass. A broken window. A glimpse of a scene of devastation behind its gaping hole. And blood. So much blood.

And then it hit him. Like a ten ton truck. At full speed. The scent of something more than blood and petrichor and his own sweat; something familiar. Someone dear. "No." Nothing more than hoarse whisper in realisation, and a desperate yell to cut the heavy silence:

"Ben!"

Nick scrambled to his legs, ignoring the piercing pain in his side. His own injury didn't matter as much as what the beast had done to Ben. What he had done to him. The werewolf could trust his olfactory sense to guide him while his other senses still recovered from his transformation.

He found the hunter not far from where he'd woken up himself, and he dropped to his knees immediately beside him. "Por favor, não deixe isso ser verdade!" Please don't let this be true! A trembling hand searched the other for injuries, the other gently brushed through his hair. "Ben. I'm... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to... I never... Please. Say something."

Closed starter for @ofmusingsxandmayhem | Esperanza & Cara

Esperanza blew a short breath out of her nose. God, if she could take back the whole damn vacation she would. It wasn't even going to be a fun vacation, but all she could hope for was that this didn't turn into one of those nightmarish in-law stories she'd read about online. Two whole weeks. Two very long, very draining, very not-fun two weeks. The poor pair of socks didn't deserve the abuse of being thrown into the suitcase where they landed haphazardly on a folded shirt.

"Don't forget we're still happily in love and married, no issues," she reminded Cara. "Everything is perfect." She spoke each word as its own sentence, punctuating them with a nod as she straightened her shoulders.

At this point Esperanza wasn't sure for who's sake she was saying it for anymore. Herself? Undoubtedly. Nothing was going well and while she wanted to fix things work always got in the way. Or maybe that was just an excuse now. Cara? Cara knew the importance of image, or had a general understanding of it whether she wanted to or not. That was the trouble with getting involved with and marrying a politician. Maybe Esperanza should've stuck to her medical path then all this stress would've been eliminated, but it was too late now. She'd made the switch too long ago to backtrack, and she did still firmly believe she could make a positive difference.

"Ready to leave in ten?"

@ofmusingsxandmayhem​

“You don’t have to like how it works. You might hate the worms and such but without them you’d have cemeteries full of rotting corpses.” He put the cigarette back to his lips and inhaled the smoke. 

@ofmusingsxandmayhem​

“Well, I’m here, what are your other two wishes?” Frank chuckled, offering out the extra cup in his hands. “Was it the coffee I brought? I couldn’t get Irish coffee, unfortunately. I forgot my ID and they didn’t believe I was over twenty-one.” He shrugged with a laugh. 

@ofmusingsxandmayhem

This was another job, and he was going to handle it just like any other job he’d done before, coolly and professionally. He spotted her in the bar where he’d been told she liked to hang out. It was definitely her, Genevieve Romano, the daughter of Andrea Romano who was a head of the big Italian-American gang, just like in the picture he burned down right after taking it out of the envelope along with the first paycheck.

He sat down on the stool next to her with a charming smile on his face, then leaned closer and the muzzle of his Glock touched her ribs through his motorcycle jacket and her blouse. With the same smile, he said softly into her ear, so only she could hear him, “Scream or do something stupid, and I’ll shoot you and then everyone in this bar. Let’s go, princess, the carriage is waiting.”

@ofmusingsxandmayhem​

Oliver’s face filled with confusion as he listened to the other. He scoffed slightly as he shook his head. “I literally have no idea where you got this idea in your head, but trust me. It’s not happening. My receptionist covered for me because you keep getting angry that I fall asleep at work.”

@ofmusingsxandmayhem​​​ | sc

░  “Look,  this  is  paint-by-numbers  basic.  Either  you  can  hack  it  or  you  can’t.  There’s  no  in  between.  I  can  help,  but  at  some  point  I'll  have  to  loosen  the  reigns."  

@ofmusingsxandmayhem​

He knows better. Of course he knows better, he’s a grown man. Still, his kindness and open heart has landed him in yet another endless loop. In all reality, he should be the one to break it off. He’s supposed to be the bigger person in all of this, but the rush that comes along with being bad is just far too tempting. There are worse things he could be doing, right? He could be out ruining his liver with alcohol, or on some wild drug bender. He could be worse, but he’s not. That’s the only thing holding him together at this point, the only thing keeping the guilt from eating him away entirely. “I’ll stay,” he finally relents, looking down at her through his lashes. He knows he shouldn’t, but he also knows she’s not going to force him to leave-or rather, she wouldn’t let him leave. “One more night, that’s it. I have to go home eventually.”

closed starter for @ofmusingsxandmayhem​

Evelyn was beyond pissed off. Tara wanting out hadn’t come as a surprise to her (and truthfully, her feelings on the matter were complicated to say the least). No, she’d sensed this coming years ago. The problem was how Tara had gotten out. Eric fucking Carlson. Of course she’d found her father and of course he had to swoop in and ‘save’ her. It made her blood boil. 

Finding him hadn’t been easy. It turned out that Tara was a far better tracker than Evelyn was and she’d done well at hiding the evidence to protect her father. She hadn’t done a perfect job though since here Evelyn was now, waiting for Eric’s arrival as she leaned against his door, arms crossed. She was not left waiting long before he entered her line of sight. When he was close enough she looked him up and down and resisted the urge to scoff. He resembled the man she’d known in the past yet looked nothing like how she remembered him. 

“Don’t get worked up. I came alone, no one else knows where you live and Tara sure as shit didn’t tell me. Tara... Exactly what I’m here to talk to you about, actually. It’s high time we discussed our daughter, don’t you think?” Evelyn was ready for his anger, his questions, his violence - whatever he threw at her she’d be ready for. 

╱ starter for ❪ @ofmusingsxandmayhem ❫ . 

          The lengthy and winding path that led up to the Romano estate was lined with trees, parched foliage now that it was fall taking the last of the sunset that sunk into sky, and was replaced it with a dusky shade of eventide as her car pulled into the driveway, parking near the gate. The lights from inside welcomed her as she strolled to the door, clad in a silk olive green dress, she took an abrupt moment to compose herself before entering, a domestic greeting her at the door to take her door before she made her way into the sea of people that had gathered for the celebration. She gifted the host a bottle of limoncino imported from the Amalfi region, since she was taught to never attend an event empty-handed, and then commenced her proverbial divergence, conversing with a few colleagues as she eyed the tray of sweets a waiter was toting around. Excusing herself from her current engagement, she took two from the waiter, thanked him and slipped through the large doors and down the corridor. 

It was there that she saw a familiar figure, her head slanting slightly as she traced the outline of Gen’s as she tranquilly approached her, cake in one hand, “tiramisu? In case you were in the mood for something sweet. You know, I think I heard it can mean “pick me up” in Italian.” 

Closed starter for @ofmusingsxandmayhem​ 

Based on this: Muse A is getting death threats so they hire Muse B (an ex-agent) to be their body guard

Trembling hands clutched a cup of coffee with the Rolling Stones logo, from which no more steam was rising. Layla didn't ask the sandman for a dream for days now. Her lovely face was  burdened with heavy, dark circles under her eyes, once seemingly delicious lips were dry and chapped, her eyes were tormented by tears of fear. “ They’ve gotten worse...” whisper cracking like the thin ice surface. “ First it was the notes...now he..he calls..” The hell of silence on the other side of the line after the continuous ringing of her cell phone, gave birth to anxiety attacks just two days after the first call. And when she turned off the cell phone, the landline would ring... until she howled on the receiver, agonized and terrified, driven mad by the silence that cut her flesh like a dagger. Then she heard a sound that was worse than any vile, blood-written threatening letter...a whistle. Soft, melodious...sinister. As a lullaby of slaughter. 

“ He is getting closer...I can feel it.” Irises colored like caramel were glazed with tears, as she looked at the other. Pleading, hoping...desperate for comfort and safety...even if it is paid. Like it was. Hiring this person was her last option, since the police seemed almost uninterested in this case. Like someone tirelessly tired to leave it cold.  “ What am I supposed to do..” not a statement nor a question, a mere breath of  forlorn, only thing she felt despite blood-freezing terror. 

Closed starter for @ofmusingsxandmayhem

Cara spent days tracking the seven members of the vampire nest, learning their patterns, studying where they went and when. And finally - finally, they were all in a warehouse on the outskirts of town they were currently calling home at the same time. Machete ready at her side, she moved to open the door when she heard someone coming up from behind her. Without hesitating for a beat, she spun, pulling the gun from her waistband and shooting a dart full of Dead Man’s blood at what she now saw was a man.

Closed starter for @ofmusingsxandmayhem​​ || Valeria & Lia

Lia, whether they were the original Lia or someone by the same name and appearance, was someone she couldn’t figure out. That had nothing to do with the fact the woman acted like some insurmountable fortress -- that wasn’t about to deter Valeria. It was the fact that this woman was someone she crossed paths with over a span of decades and never looked like she’d aged a day, like herself. But that was impossible. It was an ironic thought considering her entire existence defied what was known as a universal fact of life: death came for everyone, and despite the millennia she had lived through Valeria was no closer to an answer than she was when she first discovered her immortality. Maybe that was why she stuck close to Lia’s side whenever the opportunity presented itself, because it was too uncanny for this Lia to not be the same Lia she’d had the great fortune of crossing paths with time and time again.

“We meet once again, or maybe this is the first time and you’re another weird doppelgänger,” she hummed, the corner of her mouth pulling into a lop-sided smile "You look like you haven’t aged a day.” Valeria couldn’t stifle the laugh at her own terrible joke. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you might be following me.”

Valeria wasn’t naïve enough to believe this, but it was a nice thought all the same. Amusing really though she couldn’t imagine Lia, or any iteration of Lia, to be the type to make things that easy for her. Besides, as much as Valeria enjoyed a good chase the randomness of their encounters was what made them all the more special. Maybe not to Lia, at least not that Valeria could tell, but that was of little consequence.

“Going for that small, dark, and mysterious persona, hm?” She winked. This was the same thing Valeria had said to Lia the first time they’d met and found much of her terribly flirtatious remarks and even general commentary were met with stoicism, but surely this Lia wouldn’t know that because the first Lia she’d met had been many, many years ago. This Lia shouldn’t have any idea she’d used that same line on her before. “Fortunately for you I’m into that too. Even if seeing you means you are probably only here because you’re going to try and take my mark -- Harrison, Hector, Hugo, or something similar -- from me. Of course, I can’t let you do that, not without making you work for it first, but I always enjoy seeing you try.”