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fuck it, clea is getting her own blog too blame @klarsynt

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olivia holt

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she doesn’t rule with words — she rules with silence,  with the weight of her presence,  with the knowledge that defiance is never without consequence.  ONYX  isn’t just an empire;  it’s an unspoken law,  etched in the veins of gotham itself.  those who stand with her rise.  those who stand against her disappear.  ⸻ 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠, 𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲.

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took me half an hour to answer this for myself

really feeling juliana so what if i give her a solo

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really feeling juliana so what if i give her a solo

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let my kids kiss ur kids

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elias swallowed hard,  his throat tight as he forced the words past his lips,  though they came out hoarse  &  jagged.  ❝i thought you were dead, ❞ he muttered,  as if saying it out loud would somehow make sense of the impossible.  his body went stiff,  a thousand questions swirling in his mind,  but none of them could form clearly enough to ask.  he took a hesitant step back,  his gaze fixed on her as though afraid she might disappear if he blinked.  ❝i buried you,  allison.  i buried you. . .   &  i had to move on.  i had no choice. ❞ his voice caught in his chest,  the weight of those years without her pressing down on him with a suffocating force.  he clenched his fists,  the faint burn of old scars digging into his skin.  ❝i had to. ❞

the words were coming too fast now,   &  the familiar rush of anger,  confusion,   &  guilt all mixed together in a storm he couldn't control.  his sharp,  steady gaze faltered for just a moment,  his mind scrambling for any logical explanation.  ❝i don’t — i don’t understand.  you were a ghost to me,  allison.  i had to. . .  pretend you were gone for good.  for so long,  i thought you were.   &  now. . . ❞ he shook his head,  disbelief clear in the lines of his face.  he ran a hand through his hair,  the movement almost mechanical,  like he was trying to get his bearings again.  he hated this feeling of vulnerability,  of being caught off guard,  but she’d managed to break through his defenses with nothing more than her presence. 

for a moment,  he was quiet,  as if struggling to process it all.  his jaw tightened as his eyes locked onto hers,  searching for any answer,  any explanation.  the part of him that held tight to his principles — the part of him that kept everything in order,  every situation mapped out — was failing him.  ❝i don’t know what to do with this, ❞ he admitted quietly,  his voice almost breaking.  ❝but i’m not going to let you just walk away again.  not after everything.❞  his tone softened,  his emotions betraying the hard edge he usually kept. 

continued from 🤍 ╱ @sidecrime .

DEATH WAS INEVITABLE , FINAL. though , the flesh coiled around muscle & bone proved otherwise. the blood that pumped through veins & BEATING heart were a true sentiment that allison argent was very much ALIVE. how ? how in the hell was this even possible ? to be brought back from the dead , nonetheless. the woman had so many unanswered questions — but the shockwaves of it all hadn’t subsided just yet.

the first person that came to mind was him. elias & her shared a history so deep , that not even death could tear them apart ( allegedly. ) allison was so wrapped up in the idea of seeking comfort from the last person who had shown her kindness , warmth , LOVE — that she didn’t even plan what to say , what explanation to give. truthfully , she was confused by the whole ordeal herself & didn’t have any adequate answers.

so there she stood , a ghost from the past — quiet & utterly frozen as honey colored hues stare into those familiar eyes. god, how she had missed him. the male appeared a bit different from what she’d remembered , more worn. lines upon forehead had deepened , bags underneath eyes held a weariness that wasn’t quite there before. i thought you were dead , i never thought i’d see you again. his words cause a pang of GUILT & sadness to wash over her. “i know..” was all she could muster while allowing him to gain his bearings & come to terms with the startling revelation of it all. the brunette attempts to find the words to ease his mind , but ends up falling short. so instead , she pulls him in for a tight — heartfelt embrace. “i’m here , elias.” she utters in a tone barely above a whisper while hand comes up to cradle the back of his neck. “i have no fucking idea how , but i’m here.”

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𝐂𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒

full name: cecelia morales nickname(s): cee, la madrina (used sarcastically by some)   age: 25 height: 5'1" (but carries herself like she’s 6’0”)   ethnicity: mexican-american   eye color: dark brown, sharp and observant hair: black, often tied back or styled sleekly   occupation: smuggler, middlewoman, street-level fixer trying to move up DISTINGUISHED MARKS › a thin scar along her jaw from a close call with a knife fight   › a small tattoo on her wrist: a hummingbird, symbolizing resilience and movement   › slight burn marks on her fingers from tampering with contraband  

PERSONALITY & TRAITS mbti: entj – the commander (bold, strategic, thrives in chaos)   enneagram: type 8 – the challenger (assertive, driven, hates being controlled)   temperament: choleric – quick-witted, fiery, and unafraid of confrontation  mannerisms:  talks fast but enunciates every word, making sure people hear her.   tilts her head slightly when sizing someone up.   keeps her hands in her pockets when standing still — always hiding what she’s holding.  smirks when she’s winning a conversation.   CORE TRAITS ✅ clever, street-smart, ambitious, adaptable, resourceful ❌ reckless, arrogant, trusts the wrong people, doesn’t know when to back down

BACKGROUND & HISTORY› celia grew up in the cauldron, gotham’s roughest, most overlooked district, where crime is currency and cops don’t bother showing up. her father was a small-time smuggler who vanished without a trace when she was 12 — either dead or locked up. her mother, a seamstress, did her best to keep cee away from that life, but by 16, cee was already running minor jobs for gotham’s underbelly.  

› she started as a runner— fake ids, stolen goods, messages between gangsters. she learned how to talk, how to disappear, how to read a room before someone pulls a gun. by 21, she wasn’t just running errands—she was orchestrating deals, acting as the middlewoman for buyers and suppliers too paranoid to meet in person.  

› now, at 25, she’s got a foot in the door of gotham’s criminal elite — but she’s still just a name on their contact lists, not a power player. she’s ambitious, but ambition in gotham gets people shot, burned, or buried.  

SKILLS & ABILITIES › smuggling & fencing – moves illegal goods efficiently and discreetly. › negotiation & persuasion – can talk her way into (or out of) almost anything. › forgery & id tampering – expert at fake passports, documents, and alibis › lockpicking & safecracking – if it has a lock, she can open it.

EQUIPMENT & TOOLS. › custom-built burner phone – always has multiple, always encrypted.   › lockpick set – small, hidden in a cigarette tin.   › silenced pistol (glock 43) – not flashy, but effective.   › fake ids & documents – including several backup identities.  

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE. greatest strength: adapts fast —no matter the situation, she finds a way to survive.  greatest weakness: too ambitious for her own good — she doesn’t know when to walk away. deepest fear: ending up like her father — dead or disappeared, forgotten in the system. moral code: no senseless violence, no working with traffickers— but everything else is fair game.

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⌖ : 𝑎𝑑𝑎𝑚 𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘

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anyway if you ever want me to write an affiliated oc all you have to do is say it cause yes

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JENNA ORTEGA at the Christian Dior show during Paris Fashion Week, January 27 (2025)

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ok writing starters here later for real, & then maybe memes.

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rina stood there,  watching him with that trademark look in her eyes — a combination of amusement  &  resolve.  she knew the grin was coming long before it spread across his face,  taking over almost every inch of it.  he was always like this when it came to her: too eager,  too caring,  in a way that somehow still made her heart skip.  she didn’t need luck.  she didn’t need protection.  she’d survived this long on her own terms,   &  she wasn’t about to stop now.  but the way he looked at her,  the way his thumb gently stroked the back of her hand,  made her think twice.  for a moment,  she allowed herself to be disarmed.  his words — the soft,  reassuring ones,  mixed with that ever-present country drawl — sent a warmth through her chest that was impossible to ignore.   

❝yeah,  yeah,  i know, ❞ she muttered,  her lips curling into a small smile despite herself.  she could feel his fingers tugging her closer,  the silent invitation that she couldn’t resist even if she wanted to.  she stepped in,  pressing her lips to his for that fleeting moment,  just long enough for him to pull away  &  flash that knowing grin of his.  ❝you really think this little trinket’s gonna keep me safe?❞ she teased,  arching a brow as she pulled back,  eyes flickering with that usual sharpness.  she couldn’t quite place it,  but for some reason,  with him,  it was easier to let her guard slip,  if only for a second. 

HE CAN HARDLY CONTAIN the cheesy grin that takes up almost half of his face — especially when it comes to her. he’s more than aware rina can hold her own. hell , he’s witnessed that FIRE burn relentlessly through those big beautiful eyes more times than he can count. yet still , he wants to ensure her safety. even with something as silly as a good luck charm.

“i know ya will.” he reassures while reaching out & taking her hand into his own , thumb stroking against soft skin. “but i can sleep a little better now that ya got a small token of LUCK with you.” that country accent peeked through every now & then , a reminder of his texas roots ( in case he ever forgot. ) pointer finger beckons her closer to steal one more kiss before she disappears on him. “ya forgot somethin’ , darlin’.” a half smile tugging against the corner of mouth as he searches for her reaction.

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comment for a starter from juliana or nadja.

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clea could feel the tension in him like a live wire,  thrumming beneath her fingers as she traced slow,  deliberate paths over his shoulders,  his neck,  the sharp cut of his jaw.  his silence was deafening,  but she did not falter.  she moved closer,  her heat pressed against his form,  until her breath tangled with his in the hush between heartbeats.  her lashes fluttered as she looked up at him,  unguarded,  her lips parting — not for words,  but for him.  for the ache between them that had no language,  only feeling.   

the first kiss was a whisper,  a hesitant prayer against his lips,  tasting of longing,  of uncertainty.  she pressed into it,  slow  &  aching,   &  for a moment,  he was still — so still she thought he might pull away,  might vanish into himself again.  but then breaths hitched,   &  the dam broke.  his hands,  hesitant before,  found her waist,  fingers digging in like he needed something solid to hold on to.   

she kissed him like she was afraid he might slip through her fingers,  her lips moved against his with slow,  bruising intensity,  deepening with every stolen breath.  clea melted into him,  her fingers sliding into his hair,  nails dragging over his scalp as she pulled him closer,  closer,  until there was no space left between them.  the kiss grew frantic,  their bodies pressing together in the desperate way of people who had forgotten everything but this — heat  &  breath  &  the sheer,  aching need to be held.

she moaned softly against his lips,  her own pressing harder,  more insistent, her breath hitching as she lost herself in the sensation — the heat of him,  the intoxicating nearness,  the way his body felt against hers.  she let her teeth graze his lower lip,  a silent, breathless plea,  before she kissed him again,  deeper,  more consuming.  there was no space left between them now,  no hesitation,  no restraint.  just the feverish,  aching pull of lips  &  tongues  &  breath,  a kiss that didn’t end but only grew,  unraveling her completely.

𝖆𝖉𝖆𝖒’𝖘  𝖕𝖚𝖑𝖘𝖊  quickened  as  her  breath  mingled  with  his,  and  he  felt  the  force  of  her  plea  reverberating  through  him.  it  was  raw,  desperate.  he  wanted  to  pull  away,  to  retreat  back  to  the  place  where  everything  was  still  under  control,  where  his  emotions  were  tightly  wound  and  locked  away.  but  she  kept  pulling  him  closer,  a  force  stronger  than  his  will,  as  if  she  had  found  the  one  way  to  reach  him  that  no  one  else  could.

her  body  pressed  against  his,  soft,  warm,  insistent,  and  for  a  moment,  he  let  himself  feel  it  —  the  weight  of  her  against  him,  the  intensity  of  her  need.  it  wasn’t  just  the  physical  closeness,  but  something  deeper,  something  more  invasive,  like  she  was  unearthing  parts  of  him  he’d  buried  long  ago.  his  hands,  which  had  been  so  rigid  and  unsure  before,  now  moved  on  their  own,  trailing  over  the  curve  of  her  back,  her  skin  like  fire  beneath  his  touch.  the  shiver  that  passed  through  her  when  he  touched  her,  the  way  she  leaned  into  him  —  it  shook  him,  the  vulnerability  in  her  eyes,  in  her  words,  pulling  him  in  like  a  current  he  couldn't  resist.

the  weight  of  her  plea  hit  him  harder  than  anything  else.  please.  his  breath  caught  in  his  throat  as  he  met  her  eyes,  desperate,  vulnerable,  but  also  filled  with  a  fierce  kind  of  courage.  and  for  a  moment,  everything  inside  him  wavered.  how  could  he  not  give  her  this?  how  could  he  not  hold  her?  he  wasn't  sure  if  he  was  capable  of  giving  her  what  she  truly  needed,  but  for  now,  for  this  moment,  maybe  he  could  give  her  the  one  thing  she  was  asking  for.

he  knew  what  it  really  what.  that  hand  reaching  for  comfort  after  a  nightmare.  she  wanted  a  distraction,  and  adam  was  the  one  close  enough  to  give  it  to  her.

his  hand  found  her  face  again,  cupping  it  gently,  as  if  afraid  that  holding  her  too  tightly  might  break  something.  ❝  i’m  here  with  you.  ❞

he  couldn’t  ever  be  what  she  wanted.  but  he  could  stay.  he  could  be  the  steady  rhythm  of  his  heartbeat  against  hers,  the  warmth  of  his  skin  against  hers.  he  could  let  her  forget  tonight.  then  tomorrow,  he  would  worry  about  everything  else  tomorrow.

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clea felt the tremor of his body beneath her touch,  the way his skin flinched,  pulling away from her as though her mere proximity was a force he couldn’t control.  a bitter knot of frustration twisted in her stomach,  sharp  &  jagged.  it wasn’t just the distance between them,  the unspoken walls that seemed to grow taller with each passing second,  but the fact that she could feel his heart hammering beneath the surface,  fighting the very thing she needed him to embrace.  she wanted to pull him closer,  drown him in her need,  but he was like quicksand,  slipping away just as she reached for him. 

her fingers,  trembling slightly,  lingered where they had brushed against his cheek,  the delicate,  soft touch of her hand belying the hunger that burned in her chest.  the heat of him was still there,  like an ember she couldn’t put out.  her chest felt tight,  suffocated by the weight of the silence between them,   &  she swallowed against the lump in her throat.  the way she appeared — soft eyes,  tousled hair,  lips still curved in that innocent smile — was a mask,  an illusion,  one she had mastered to perfection.  beneath it,  though,  there was something darker,  something older  &  more intense that ached for him.  she could feel that tension between them like the thrum of a cord about to snap,   &  it made her dizzy,  her pulse racing with need. 

❝i need you, ❞ she whispered,  the words coming out in a shaky breath that trembled with vulnerability.  the admission was raw  &  unpolished,  far from the picture-perfect image she tried to project.  the fragility of her voice,  the softness of her body,  made it seem like she was asking for something simple,  innocent.  but in truth,  she was asking for him to tear away the veneer,  to see her fully for what she was — someone who wanted to be consumed by the fire they could make together.  the ache within her was so deep it felt almost unbearable.  she could feel the weight of his gaze on her,   &  for a moment,  she closed her eyes,  leaning into the warmth of his presence. she wanted to feel him — every inch of him — because without it,  right now it felt like she might shatter into a million pieces. 

she reached for him again,  this time with more intention,  more need.  her hand hovered near his,  trembling with anticipation,  the air between them thick with tension.  slowly,  she guided his hand toward her,  pressing his palm against her cheek,  coaxing him to touch her as though it was the only thing that could bring her back to life.  ❝you don’t have to fix anything, ❞ she breathed his own words back to him,  her voice desperate,  but the urgency in it now was for something more.  something beyond words.  she closed her eyes at the warmth of his skin against hers,  a shiver running through her.  ❝i just . . .  i need you to be here with me. ❞ her fingers traced the back of his hand,  urging him to press harder,  to feel her,  to understand the depth of the yearning that burned in her. 

her body ached for him,  the craving for closeness so deep that it made her dizzy.  her innocent appearance — soft skin,  wide eyes,  delicate features — seemed to mock the fierce need pulsing through her veins.  she wanted him in a way that was primal,  that went beyond the sweetness of the girl he saw in front of him.  she couldn’t stop herself from pulling him closer,  her chest brushing against his,  the beat of his heart a steady rhythm against her own.  she could feel his breath on her neck,  his arms tightening around her just enough to remind her that he hadn’t left yet,  that he still was here.  but it wasn’t enough.  nothing would ever be enough until she could feel him truly,  wholly — until he gave her more than just this fragile moment.  ❝please, ❞ she whispered,  voice breaking,  her body pressing desperately into his,  a silent plea that she knew he could hear but might never fully understand.  ❝touch me. ❞

𝖆𝖉𝖆𝖒  𝖋𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖉  when  her  fingers  brushed  his  face,  his  body  stiffening  at  the  touch.  the  sensation  of  her  skin  against  his  was  jarring.  the  heat  of  her  hands  pressed  into  him,  and  sent  an  unsettling  ripple  through  his  chest,  a  wave  of  discomfort  he  couldn’t  push  away.  his  mind  scrambled,  pulling  back  from  the  closeness,  from  the  sensation  of  her,  like  an  instinctive  reaction  to  the  vulnerability  she  was  pulling  from  him  without  even  trying.

he  swallowed  hard,  turning  his  face  slightly  to  avoid  the  lingering  pressure  of  her  touch,  but  he  could  feel  her  gaze  remained  on  him,  intense  and  searching.  the  fragility  in  her  expression,  in  her  actions,  made  the  walls  he  had  spent  so  long  building  around  himself  feel  thinner,  shakier.  his  fingers  twitched  at  his  sides,  the  need  to  do  something  —  anything  —  to  push  the  unease  back,  to  protect  himself  from  the  storm  that  was  beginning  to  flood  his  chest.

❝  i  —  ❞   his  voice  broke  as  he  tried  to  speak,  but  it  wasn’t  the  words  that  mattered.  it  was  the  weight  of  everything  unspoken,  the  raw,  jagged  edges  of  the  emotions  they  were  both  navigating.  he  inhaled  sharply,  as  if  trying  to  gather  some  semblance  of  control,  but  his  grip  on  her  tightened  instead,  holding  her  even  closer.  ❝  you  don’t  have  to  fix  anything  right  now.  ❞

he  pulled  back  just  enough  to  see  her  face,  to  search  her  eyes,  feeling  the  weight  of  her  gaze  pressing  down  on  him.  he  wasn’t  sure  what  he  was  expecting,  but  there  was  an  undeniable  pull  toward  her,  an  urgency  he  couldn’t  ignore.  ❝  just . . .  tell  me  how  to  help  you,  ❞  he  whispered,  his  voice  barely  a  breath.  ❝  tell  me  what  you  need.  ❞