alejandrodelrios

[alejandrodelrios]

ALEJANDRO DEL RIOS at the MASKED BALL ; 2025 WINTER-SPRING GALA

Alejandro is wearing a simple outfit and a matching mask to go with it. He is only attending tonight’s festivities because it was requested of him to do so. He is attending with a beautiful dark haired beauty (please don’t ask him her name because he can’t be bothered to remember it) and looking forward to what the night brings. He isn’t here looking for trouble…but he is here to serve some. Until the moment strikes, he can be seen roaming around with his date & enjoying some free champagne.

[alejandrodelrios]

Alejandro chuckles, "This is thrilling to me. Helping people gives me fuel and feeds my soul. I'm not out here being an asshole on purpose." He was just a solider in this war. When he didn't have a task, he enjoyed not being on autopilot.

Scooping and mashing. That's the current task.

Alejandro is a bit offended by the question, snorting a little in amusement, "Of course I have Kendrick." He paused for a moment to pick his phone back up, letting Tristan takeover with the styrofoam lids for a moment.

It doesn't take him even a minute to choose DNA, Backstreet Freestyle & Elemental had come close second.

He's back to sorting food into trays, bopping his head along to the music. The irony of them working together was not lost on him, "What do you think they'd say if they could see us right now?" They being their respective organizations.

It nearly takes him aback — a Cartelian playing nice. He'd never seen that before.

"Sounds like you got a thrilling social life," he comments. Though typically, the busier the schedule, the less likely one is to fit charity into it.

How long, he thinks to himself, until those true colors are shown?

Should he poke the bear and ask?

While Alejandro does his best scoop and mash work, Tristan places styrofoam lids on freshly assembled meals.

He shrugs, "You got any Kendrick?"

[alejandrodelrios]

"Mm." Deep dark brown eyes gaze into the dark ones studying his, drinking him in, given the chance, Alejandro felt like he'd be able to count every eyelash surrounding those dark eyes.

The moment Lee shifts, Alejandro's eyes are scanning everything. He watched the way he moved, the placement of his hands, the pacing of his footsteps, how his lips met the glass, how he dragged his cigarette. He was on the alert, that’s what he told himself.

Ale chuckled, "Now, now. Is that truly my fault? I'm right here, sweetheart. If you want me, claim me."

He drinks the rest of his beverage in one big swig, half smirking at the comment. “I’d never treat you as second best, my sweet. You’re so much more than that.”

Alejandro lets a beat pass by them before moving towards the spot that would allow him freedom, feeling as if their little meeting was coming to an end. Before, however, he takes out his own pack of smokes.

Opening up the package, he brings a smoke out, it’s his lucky cigarette that is retrieved. Bringing it up to his lips, Alejandro brushes the tip of his tongue against the filter, lightly. Then he places it down on the table, careful to make sure the part he just kissed does not touch the table. “Thank you for the smoke, sweetheart.”

Someone is approaching, perhaps one of the older man’s non-dates, who knew, but it’s a chance Alejandro has to take. He cast a playful smirk in Lee’s direction, “Until next time.” And when that person passes by him, like the Cheshire Cat he is, he disappears into the night.

"I bloody wish," he says. "Just an Englishman, aye, with a deep appreciation for beauty in all its forms."

And women do carry it — so effortlessly, so often. Walk blindly into a museum, and you'll find hundreds of paintings centered around the female form. From bodies, to cruelty, to dances, to smiles. Judith and Monalisa be damned.

"Am I, now?" Those dark eyes of his study Alejandro's, again attempting to place intent. He wishes, so very truthfully, to be special to him.

Lee shifts then, his tall figure pacing the space until finding a spot for himself against the balcony's edge. He drinks, and drinks, and smokes some more.

"Once our 'game is complete', aye, I'll have plenty more than just a 'vial' of your blood. I might as well bloody bathe in it." What an ecstatic, thrilling thought. "If you spoiled me, darling, I would have seen you from the inside by now."

The cigarette's all gone — yet before discarding it, Lee makes a show of dragging his tongue over its rim, as though collecting every last taste of it. Over the ledge, then, it goes.

"And I thought I was only a mistress, aye," Lee quips. "What a pleasant mistake."

[alejandrodelrios]

biblical level beauty

[alejandrodelrios]

"Maybe you’ll be able to dissect my mind one day and figure it out," Alejandro replies, casting a playful wink in Lee's direction. Judging by Lee's grin, he had a feeling they were having similar fantasies about each other. That thought alone drove him a little mad with curiosity, as if he needed more reasons to keep this killer on his mind.

He follows the man's gaze to the party around them, watching it with disinterest. "Ah. A regular casanova, are you? Here I thought I was special.” He brings the glass back up for a slow sip of his whiskey, before, “But, I will say, you are special to me. Very special.” He takes a sip of his drink, slowly, watching Lee as he did.

“I’ve been thinking,” his gaze travels back to the crowd, “I would like for you to have a vial of my blood once our game is complete. Think of it as a token of my appreciation for keeping life so exhilarating for me.” Another sip of his drink, mostly to let a beat pass. “See how I spoil you?”

His gaze travels back to Lee when he takes the cigarette, his tongue coming out to taste the spot the cigarette had just touched on his lips, hoping the other could taste him from just that shared smoke. “No lass nor lad on my arm tonight, sweetheart. I wouldn’t be so sweet on you if I did have a date. I am gentleman.”

At the sweet, crazed sound of the boy's words, Lee is struck by the skepticism that settles in the back of his mind. Seldom had enemies welcomed the twisted musings grown out of his thoughts. Is this acceptance genuine? Is he simply being made fun of? Decades of being labeled insane, monstrous, or a raving maniac plagued Lee's vision in a red-tinted lenses of sorts.

"Good thoughts?" He asks, his mouth twisting into a grin.

He eyes Alejandro closely, following lips and teeth and smoke in the quick story they tell. Then, his hands. Could those bones, muscles, and tendons, yield a knife well enough to kill him? He hopes so.

Lee glances back at the party then, as though he needs a visual reminder for it. "Not alone, darling," he says, "though I'm not accompanied, either." What did have was flirtations scattered around the party, proper and pretty women he had found himself talking to throughout the night. Alas, he hadn't someone officially on his arm for some time now.

Claiming the cigarette back, there's an undeniable shift, as he gets the chance to touch his mouth where Alejandro had. Anticipation, yes. "How about you, darling? What pretty lass have you brought along?"

[alejandrodelrios]

Alejandro quietly listens as Ezra speaks, attentive to his movements, listening carefully to his tone. Ezra was apologizing and it felt strange to hear that coming from the other man. He wants to comment, except it felt like he was just expected to listen right now. Then came the compliment which filled him with pride and made him stand a little straighter. "Thanks, boss. I'll shoot for nothing short of extraordinary next time."

Immediately Alejandro's mind went to all the steps he took to find Nick, what he could have done instead, knowing he would over analyze this all night. He strived to always push himself within the gang, constantly trying to find ways to improve his services, always seeking to sponge what he could learn from Ezra.

Help me. At those words Alejandro was already moving, that's all he ever had to say. "No medics," he repeats, nodding. The hitman takes his seat next to Ezra, looking at the wounded area, "We gotta clean that a little more, boss. Can't have you getting some nasty ass infection and shit." Alejandro reaches for the hem of his shirt, ripping a piece off. "On the journey with my parents, to the states, I learned a bit of side medic shit. Enough to stitch, clean, and dress a wound." It was not often, even with Ezra, that Alejandro spoke of that time in his life.

He reached out to gently dab away some blood, being careful not to irritate it. Gentle hands work on patching up the wounded spot, brows furrowed in concentration as he worked. "What about my future, boss? You lookin' to make me the next medic or somethin'?" He joked, half smirking, mostly to himself.

On a cleanly polished marble floor, Ezra has left behind a trail of blood. Bandages trashed in the bathroom, soaked through, and a white shirt ripped slightly, by a shot he could not dodge, and his second in command could not see coming. "Fucking streets.", Ezra barks at his mirror when he takes off his shirt, and then also, his tight dress pants. When Alejandro knocks, he is dressed in boxers and not much more, standing in front of his secluded bathroom's mirror, attempting to patch his wound up. "Come in.", he orders nonetheless, not really caring about personal boundaries anymore, anyway.

"Sorry.", Ezra mutters, "You kind of grow used to others seeing you half-naked or naked once you have a kid. Try to separate yourself from a clingy three-year-old. Nine year olds do not really care, either." The corners of his lips twitch upwards, and Ezra forces himself to take a deep breath. "I was fine with being the second in command, you know?", Ezra snorts, "Less of a target." Dark curls fall into his face the moment he leans forward to steady himself on the closet, before he turns in Alejandro's direction, clearly not ashamed. "You did a great job today. Thank you for protecting Nick, even if he was just being a kid. I'll talk to him when he wakes up."

The boss sits down on his bed, nods in his direction, "Help me patch this up, and we'll have a conversation about your future in the meantime. No medics tonight," Ezra makes clear.

[alejandrodelrios]

Alejandro nodded, "Loud and clear." Contrary to popular belief, he did not try to come off as a jerk to people. Especially not when he had no real issue with a person, such is the case with Tristian. "I'm just here to scoop mashed potatoes into trays and package up food. It's typically how I spend Saturday afternoons." He paused, "Except last Saturday. Sue me for sleeping in."

With a small sigh, he returns to what he was doing. Alejandro did not feel like there was a point in trying to make small talk with the other guy, because it seemed his mind had already made its judgement on Alejandro, and he respected that. He takes his phone out to link up the Bluetooth to a very small speaker nearby. Somebody Else - The 1975 starts to play.

There was no real reason for his song choice outside of it was one of his favorite songs and he wanted to fill the silence with something. Ale again returns to his task of scooping mashed potatoes into foam trays, bopping his head side to side along with the music. Working in silence, with just the music filling the room, the muffled chatter from up front seeping through a bit, it was not such a bad thing.

Eventually his song does fade, leaving the silence to take over again. Alejandro looks to Tristan, "You can pick the next song, if you'd like."

At times of doubt, Tristan looks to the work being done around him as tangible proof that the outcome justifies the means — that in his hands, blood money turns itself into full bellies for many.

His first stop is in the backrooms, where he's greeted either by name, or by title. Wads of money make their way into apron pockets, quick hugs in between tasks.

Up front however, he's only another somebody with a heart of gold and an entire afternoon set aside just for this.

A beat, then, as his mind recognizes who the man speaking to him is. More importantly, who he works for. God fucking dammit.

"It's not my turf, if that's what you're asking — food shouldn't be politicized. But who do you think runs this operation?" Behind the scenes, that is. Underground.

The irony isn't lost on Tristan. How it could have been even bigger, had the Cartel not betrayed them the way they had. Chosen money and carnage over the Brotherhood's idea of a brand new world — rejecting their values and drive for country-wide revolution.

"You can stay, but if you do anything that looks like you're trying to fuck us over—" Beat, as volunteers pass them. "I'll fuck you over, ya get that?"

[alejandrodelrios]

Alejandro nods, stepping around her, returning his attention to the drunk guy. He leaned in so that he's inches from the drunk guy's face, speaking in a hushed voice, taking a quick moment to chat with him. It was quick and painless in all honesty. Soon the drunk man has moved to another section of the bar, leaving an open. “Well, I don’t think you have to worry about that guy bothering you anymore. I told him it was our first date and he seemed very understanding. Drunk, but understanding.”

He sits in the open seat, looking straight ahead to the television displayed behind the bar. Something about someone getting mugged on the subway, typical New York City news. He watches it, not really paying attention to it. “I’m sorry about interrupting your evening. If we just look straight ahead then he might not realize we aren’t interacting, if you’d rather not talk anymore. I was just lending a helping hand, though I am open to talk if you’d like a bit of company.” Either way the option would be hers to take.

He nods to the bartender, a silent beckoning. One drink. He would have one drink, if nothing came of tonight, at least he would be able to bump into her again perhaps randomly on the street and speak with her now. The way he worked was slow, playing the waiting game, relying on patience mostly. Even if she chose to ignore him for the rest of the evening, at least he had made his face a familiar one to her now, just this was enough to get his game started.

The bartender comes over to take the order. Alejandro orders his whiskey (clean), turning to her, “Do you care for a drink? Perhaps it’ll improve your night a bit and help you forget the drunk asshole you just had giving you the worst pick up lines in the history of bad pick up lines.” Then they could return to watching the next segment of a local neighborhood having all their car tires slashed by a prankster teen.

the day — or rather, evening — was going great for estelle so far. no long meetings, no fussy coworkers, had an enjoyable lunch and dinner with her friends. a mundane day. and she much preferred a mundane day rather than a terrible one.

her heels clicked against the pavement as she walked to the spotlight bar, feeling a rather fancy way to end her day. as she walked inside the bar, she spotted a few familiar faces, offering a few waves and ‘hi’s as she made her way to her favorite spot. not too secluded, not in the middle of the bar either. it was the perfect spot to watch the people around the bar.

just as she sat down on the stool bar, she heard an agitating voice from her right. of course it was a man who would ruin her night. estelle tried her best to ignore the drunkard right next to her, but her patience had limits. she was about to tell him to piss off before someone else made himself known.

“there you are.”

who the fuck—

she took a split second to study the new face. good looking. handsome, even. but unfamiliar. not her coworker, that's for sure. estelle had never seen him before and she would never forget a face.

the frown on her face quickly turned into a sweet smile, albeit a tiny bit forced. “no, no,” fuck it, anything to shoo the drunk guy away. “i gotta be honest, i have no idea who he is.”

[alejandrodelrios]

"It makes me shiver with anticipation to know just how many deranged thoughts you've probably had involving me." Alejandro nods, "Oh, yes. You live in my mind rent free, my darling." A threat, and the truth. The number of times he has fantasized about how delicious it would taste to get his blade slowly twisted into the other was rather embarrassing, borderline obsessive even.

He doesn't respond to the question, just lets his cheshire cat like smirk grow a bit. From his peripheral vision he scans for a good exit but quickly realizes that his freedom happens to be just on the other side of where Lee came from.

Every step was a delicate movement, keeping just the right amount of space between them. Not too far, not too close. Until the smoke is offered, as if the other could read his thoughts of wanting one.

He takes a step forward, reaching out for the cigarette, allowing a gentle brush of fingertips. "How kind." Bringing it up to his lips, Alejandro takes a drag, He softly hums as a slow milky colored cloud drips from his lips before being carried away into the night air. Keeping a small distance, he extends the cigarette back out to the other, “Are you out alone this evening, sweetheart?”

"Now, my mind is quite the deranged place, darling." Not yet a threat. Only the truth, spoken out loud. "But indeed, you have been in my thoughts." Now, that's a threat. "Have I been in yours?"

Alejandro steps back, away, and it's as though he's been invited to a dance. Lee then follows the imaginary tempo, taking his own step forward. Between beats of silence, space taken and space given, they waltz. Back, and forth. How long, until they crash?

"As you've said, you're not quite in my grasp yet, are you, love?" It's a manic man's tactic, to play with his prey. To drag this on for as long as he has — grasping at the thrill of it, like some twisted form of foreplay.

Between his drink and a cigarette, Lee lends nicotine his attention first. Smoke lifts up in a curtain, and after a drag, he holds the cigarette out in offer.

[alejandrodelrios]

for: ezra ( @bulletpro0fs ) location: ezra's apartment

Like a hound dog, Alejandro did not stop until he located what his master wanted. It was a long and tiring trail that eventually led him to Nick. Waves of relief wash over him when he finds Ezra's son safe and sound. He was even more relieved when it turned out that Nick had simply ran off with a friend, kids being kids, and he immediately called Ezra to let him know the update. Also, to tell him that he would be on his way to take Nick home but stopping to get something for him to eat before that.

Thanks to Nick having a key, Alejandro was able to get in. Unlike the kid, Alejandro couldn't help but to stare in awe at the place. His apartment felt like a shack compared to Ezra's that felt, and looked, like a mansion. He noted the decor, nodding in approval. Then he moved to help Nick get settled into bed for the evening. Sitting on Nick's bedside, scrolling through his phone, until he heard the sounds of Ezra's arrival.

Alejandro figured he would give it a moment before he'd announce his departure, and he continued to scroll through endless YouTube reels for a moment longer. All of a sudden, an hour passes by. He exits out of the app, tucks his phone away, gives Nick one last glance, then makes his way out of the room. Knocking on Ezra's room door, waiting for approval, before opening it, "Hey, boss." Alejandro leans an arm against the door frame, "I just want you to know Nick's asleep. I was about to head out," He paused, looking Ezra over a little, "You good?"

[alejandrodelrios]

for: tristan ( @tristanzaire ) location: a random soup kitchen

Growing up Alejandro's family always made sure the boy understood the value in a community and giving back to it. He saw the importance of giving to those in need from a young age, and in that sense, Alejandro had always been a good person. He'd share his lunch with the kid who didn't have any, often times giving them the entirety of it. He once gave away his pair of shoes right on the spot because one of the younger kids in his school didn't have enough to afford another pair, even though they were just a smidgen bigger than his feet, it didn't bother him to walk home barefooted that day.

It's part of why Alejandro loved what his father & grandfather did. Why he gravitated towards the cartel lifestyle so much, because even though it was filled with bad things, they helped his people. They built schools big enough to hold all the kids in a small town, rebuilt neighborhoods that had been long forgotten by society, built new homes for those who needed them, gave food to starving families, overall, to Alejandro, they helped his people thrive. If his people thrived, Alejandro thrived.

And it was this mindset that often led Alejandro to do volunteer work, like he was today. He was assigned the duty of plating and packaging to go plates in the back of the kitchen and told that he'd have a partner join him soon. "And here you go, Ale. As promised! Thank you both so much for your help. I'll be back to grab a couple of re-fills once we run out in the front!" With that one of the shifts leads makes her way back to the front.

Alejandro was scooping some mashed potatoes into one of the trays with one headphone stuck in his ear, jamming out to music. He puts the scooper for the potatoes down, setting it aside for now, finally turning to look at who had been placed to work with him.

Well, fuck.

At the end of the day, Alejandro had nothing against Tristian. He didn't have any actual hard feelings towards the younger man, it was all business. They were loyal to different sides of the war, but at times Alejandro wondered, was their war that different? "And here I thought it would be just a typical Saturday." He looks back to the trays that were half empty, half ready to be in bags for the re-fills they'd need in a bit, then back Tristian, "If I accidentally stumbled into your neck of the woods...I apologize" Not something he did often, if ever. "It was not my intention if that's the case, and I can leave."

[alejandrodelrios]

Taylor Zakhar Perez x Lacoste by Nino Muñoz

[alejandrodelrios]

✨

[TEXT MSG}: I have a serious question... [TEXT MSG]: Is cereal soup? [TEXT MSG]: Why or why not?

[alejandrodelrios]

for: estelle ( @rainvoir ) location: the spotlight bar, some random hour of the evening.

Slow was the evening Alejandro was having, nothing in the books for him to take care of, which often led his feet out onto the city streets. He was not foolish enough to return to that shitty dive bar where he stumbled upon Lee, nor go venturing into Brotherhood territory, not that he wouldn’t do it in the near future if boredom struck again.

He was itching for something, but he lacked a muse to scratch that itch. Or so he thought. As he stood across the street from the Spotlight Bar, taking lazy drags off his cigarette, he spots a beauty making her way into the bar. She was not just any beautiful woman, in fact, she was someone Alejandro had been keeping an eye from a distance. He had come to learn of her affiliation with the Brotherhood, and it was this very piece of information that pulled his attention to her.

He let’s out one final exhale of smoke from his lungs, watching the thick cloud dissipate into the evening air, flicking the rest of the cigarette away. Alejandro had kept his distant from the little bird, waiting for the right moment to approach her.

As he walked into the establishment, the moment presented itself.

“There you are.” He meant that in so many ways, offering the woman a kind smile. “Sorry I’m late. New York City traffic is such a drag.” His eyes look to the drunk guy that seemed just a bit too close, then back to the woman, "Is this a friend of yours?"

[alejandrodelrios]

Questions for Characters. A series of questions for all the lovely canon and original characters. Please place the name of the character in the placeholder [name].

Basics

What is [name] full name?

Where was [name] born?

Does [name] still live where they were born?

Has [name] a good relationship with their homeland?

Does [name] have family?

How is [name] connection to their family?

Is there a family member [name] doesn't get along with?

Is there a family member [name] miss?

Did [name] have to mourn someone yet? Who was it?

How old is [name] currently?

What is [name] sexuality?

What is [name] current relationship status?

Childhood

What was [name] first pet?

What was [name] favorite toy as a child?

What was [name] favorite dish as a child?

What was [name] favorite hobby as a child?

Was [name] good in school?

What subject was [name] good at? What did they struggle with?

What wanted [name] be when they were a child?

Were grades important for [name] when they were in school?

Was [name] the popular kid?

How many friends did [name] have as a child?

Does [name] have friendships that last from childhood to now?

Growing Up

Who was [name] first kiss?

Who was [name] first love?

What did [name] wore to prom?

Did [name] ever sneak away?

Did [name] ever try something against of the advise of their parents?

Was [name] always back at the agreed time?

Adulthood

What was the first job [name] had?

When did [name] start their first job?

What is [name] currently working as?

Does [name] want to marry?

Does [name] want to have children?

When did [name] have their first child?

How many children does [name] want?

Does [name] have already names settled for future children?

What pets does [name] want to have?

Is there anything [name] wants to achieve?

Is [name] currently content with life?

Does [name] want to build a house on their own?

Does [name] prefer to live in a city or the country?

What would [name] dream day look like?

Where does [name] want to travel?

Does [name] like to travel?

What languages does [name] want to learn?

What is [name] favorite hobby?

Is there anything unusual [name] likes to do?

What is [name] favorite movie?

Does [name] like to go to the cinema or do they like to stream movies?

What is [name] favorite singer/band/artist?

[alejandrodelrios]

✧ — ⋆    𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 & 𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 .

SOCIAL  MEDIA  PROMPTS .

send  📘  for  a  facebook  status  about  your  muse 

send  👻  for  a  snapchat  from  my  muse 

send  🐦  for  a  tweet  about  your  muse 

send  📸  for  an  instagram  post  about  your  muse

TEXTING  PROMPTS .

send  🍷  for  a  drunk  text  from  my  muse

send  😳  for  an  embarrassing  text  from  my  muse

send  💋  for  a  flirty  text  from  my  muse

send  😱  for  a  scared  text  from  my  muse

send  ✨  for  a  random  text  from  my  muse

send  😡  for  an  angry  text  from  my  muse

send  😬  for  a  worried  text  from  my  muse

send  😢  for  a  sad  text  from  my  muse

send  😁  for  a  happy  text  from  my  muse

send  💕  for  a  loving  text  from  my  muse

[alejandrodelrios]

Boredom; the state of feeling weary. because one is unoccupied. Footsteps marked footprints in territory foreign to Alejandro, searching for something, someone, to occupy his interest this particular evening.

The voice that broke through the muffled music and light chatter around him sent goosebumps up Alejandro’s spine. Every word spoken felt like the light drag of a blade’s tip gently going across his soft sunkissed skin, leaving goosebumps in its trail. He was delighted to find his evening would be anything but uninteresting, delighted that his time would now be occupied, delighted to know he would soon evade the other even in his own territory.

“I wanted you to keep me on your mind,” Alejandro replies, cracking a small side smirk. “I wanted you to think about all the things you would do to me once you were inches from me.” The closer Lee gets, just to tease, Alejandro moves a step back, “Yet even in your neck of the woods…I seem to be just barely in your grasp.”

One step forward, the other takes a step back, it’s almost like their own personal dance.

The glass in his hand goes to his lips, taking a sip of the amber colored liquor, dark eyes attentive to Lee’s movements as he drank. “Tell me, darling, was I worth the wait?”

@alejandrodelrios setting: a shitty club in brooklyn ; syndicate territory

The thing about attack dogs, is that even when they bark, they're still shackled up in chains — until ultimately, they're let free.

Such is Lee Malkovich's tale, each and every time he'd been faced with Alejandro through all the years in which they'd orbited the heart of New York City together. It takes one to know one, and these two killers honour that notion well.

Lee's fame precedes him — its trail of dirty red tracking right under his feet. As it continues to do so now, as he drags his boots across the club's dancefloor, following the other's path outside.

Tables set under the moonlight make for some semblance of a balcony; loud and lazy rock music echoing through thin walls.

"I see you've finally found your way into my world, darling," Lee says, slowly approaching. He balances a drink in one hand, and a cigarette, in the other. "What's taken so bloody long?"