#the answer of vis character was always right there tattooed on her back

[poseidonsbastardson]

It makes sense that Vi's only motivated by her family, Powder/Jinx especially.

It's the tattoo on her back. She is the tattoo on her back. The machinery of it. But there's also the top part of her back, the same type of steam clouds that Jinx has on her own skin.

I feel like the guy with the red string and the conspiracy theories but yeah the answer was always there. Vi would do anything for her family, including becoming what she hates, an enforcer. If it means she has a chance to protect the family she still has. It's what makes the machine that is Vi run.

[alessabriel]

Female Characters Arcane

Summary: 

Character: Vi (Violet), Sevika, Jinx (Powder), Caitlyn Kiramman, Mel Medarda, Grayson, Ambessa Medarda, Renata Glasc, Cassandra Kiramman. 

Cw. ninguna. 

➤  Vi (Violet).

In retrospect Vi had always been the strong one in everything, there was so much she carried inside her that sometimes she felt nothing short of exploding so hard and imploding until she disappeared. She didn't know if she felt like a supernova in moments, maybe she was exploding and never knew it or so she thought until she felt herself melting against soft hands, long fingers, slightly calloused fingertips, manicured nails and such a delicious feeling that shook her from bone to muscle. She felt boneless, naked, exposed, vulnerable and muscles exposed to the open air, naked nerves, nerves that you caressed so sweetly letting everything inside her melt and stir in an amalgam of comfort, warmth and coziness. It was cozy, it felt good to be comforted, cared for. It felt good, cared for, loved, adored even and it was embarrassing how she pushed her face into your chest; rubbing her cheek against the softness, bewitching herself in your scent, clinging to your body and wrapping her arms around your hips, squeezing in the hope that you wouldn't disappear.

"Because you love me so much pretty girl?"

He doesn't know why he asks, he just does, because he doesn't think he deserves so much love (if he does, he deserves it so much that you consider it almost a crime that he doesn't believe it).

"Because it's you, I love you from head to toe, the satisfying or unsatisfying feelings included, when you come home from a boxing league fight in Zaun with bloody knuckles, when I see you come home from work in that uniform I know you still hate, when you wake up with your hair a mess and in a bad mood, when you sleep, when you think you're not presentable, as a teenager and right now, I can't imagine myself anywhere else but next to you Vi" you recite with such ease, syrupy words rolling off your tongue with such sweetness and ease that they seem like honey, as you gently cradle her cheeks between your palms adoring her features; slightly bushy eyebrows, bright powder blue eyes, deceptively long eyelashes, nose just a little crooked from his countless fights, the small scar that gently parts his left eyebrow, the nose piercing, slightly plump lips and the scar on his upper lip, the tattoo on his cheek of a Roman six, the freckles that so subtly dot his skin"....I love everything about you Violet, I always will, until you let me."

Vi didn't pretend that this answer didn't completely disarm her; bone by bone, nerve by nerve until she felt almost dissected by every word and how your love seeped like water through her fingers, your loving gaze was only the last nail that cemented her love for you. Your love was intense when self-sabotage was at her fingertips and nightmares made her believe she was unloved, it was soft and gentle when she felt discouraged and decided, overwhelming when she felt needy and could not express it, violent when she refused to hear that she was loved. If you loved her you filled every nook and cranny, and helped her to get through, to move on and go on. You simply knew how to meticulously dissect her, skin layer by skin layer, muscles, bones, joints and veins to sneak your love in. You disassembled her to an almost molecular degree or could be compared to it. So, she just hid her face in her partner's shoulder, feeling her cheeks flushed beyond redness even her ears felt hot, her heart racing, her hands sweating and even her body's response to your caresses and words.

"...never leave me love"

"I will never rosita" you reply in a soft voice caressing the back of her neck, playing with the soft strands of her pink hair.

"...don't call me that" Vi whispered, even though she loved that cheesy nickname.

And you always understood her, as Vi understood you.

➤ Sevika 

For Sevika the notion of a quiet night was a lot, but occasionally this was; arriving at her apartment in Zaun (the only good thing about being Silco's second in command) where you usually arrived earlier since you worked in the weapons factories, hence you arrived before her. So arriving was a daily process, arriving at the place they shared where it always smelled like a meal cooked a little at a time, sometimes it smelled like a familiar food or a random dessert.

She craved something sweet.

She never knew how her partner was always aware of when she was craving something sweet, but she had an uncanny accuracy to it and today after dealing with Jinx's problems, having to fix them and not being able to complain because Jinx's self-proclaimed father would tell her to shut up, as if her job included babysitting a girl over 18. Fuck.

"From here I can see smoke coming out of that head of yours Vika."

Before she could even articulate a word a plate with a generous piece of chocolate cake was placed in front of her with a cutlery, she justly occupied something sweet to get over the bad drink.

"...again another mess I had to clean up" she grumbled annoyed, not in the mood to elaborate.

"Jinx, right?"

Sevika just affirmed, before taking the first bite, the chocolate exploded in his mouth and relaxed him a little, it was the little treats you usually always gave him, along with intimacy, and a life together that softened his heart.

"I don't want to bore you with the details sweetie" he replies before taking another bite of cake.

"you never bore me what happened Vika?"

The best nights are those where he eats something sweet prepared by the hands of the woman he loved and just talk, sometimes about nothing, sometimes about everything, about the future they dreamed together as children (although it was not the same it was close to what they imagined although with the difference that she herself could never give you everything she dreamed of giving you), about how they were so fucked up that nothing could get them out of that hole but together it was worth it or about the day of both of them. Sometimes she allowed herself to daydream, to dream of a better life to be able to give her partner, a place where they both didn't have to be so meddled with everything they knew would cost them in the long run.

"I love you Vika" you whispered in a syrupy voice, before stealing a kiss from Sevika that tasted like chocolate and expensive cigars.

Sometimes Sevika felt good like this.

➤ Jinx (Powder)

Mylo's voice sometimes upset her more than she could bear, more than she was willing to tolerate and she felt like scratching her scalp until she reached her skull, to go even further to her brain and to be able to shut up that irritating voice. Now she was not the Powder who felt bad about everything, who felt her spirit die with every veiled insult, with every "whenever something goes wrong, you bring bad luck" or with every memory that she tried hard to forget because she would not have them anymore, because she would never have access to more of it. So she became engrossed in improving her pumps, making the closed circuit more precise and making sure no one could see inside them.

"Silco says you haven't eaten in a few blue days."

Jinx hears you, clearly he does as your voice is the only one capable of getting through all the voices swirling in his ears; Mylo scoffing and Claggor pointing out a few things on his pump, thanks a thousand times your voice.

"...Silco says a lot of things" he grumbles before pressing the pump in the perfect closed loop to throw it towards the vacuum under the huge turbine where his workshop was located listening to the explosion "but he's right this time, I haven't eaten and I don't plan to...Did you cook me? Gimme, gimme, gimme!"

Sometimes she regrets everything that was going on, but the only thing that made her feel good and maybe somewhat lucky (contrary to what Mylo was always saying in her ear) to have a girl who was in love with her and who cared for her in her own way, sometimes she thought that your love kept her halfway sane, but er a secret that she would take to her grave forever.

Powder, in the past knew what filial love, support and warmth felt like.

Until blue came along to change everything.

Jinx, knows what fear is in the eyes of others, what affection for identification is since Silco saw himself in her but never knew to what degree which led him to treat her as a daughter which he sincerely appreciated, and knew what pure love meant, love without adultery.

You, blessed and cursed be you loved her for every positive and negative trait, you held her in her crises, you embraced her when nightmares destroyed her bone by bone, and when pink detonated her. You had seen the worst of her being, that lurid, dirty, stained and ground to a bloody pulp and yet you could love her, encourage her, tell her the truth and be her pillar. You seemed to be forged in heaven with a resilience that only the devil could create, or so she formulated.

"Have you cracked the Hextech theory yet?" you question interested, looking over her shoulder at her work leaving her to eat in peace and her space.

Jinx takes a while to pass the huge mouthful of food she had taken, but it was a sandwich with everything she liked and she finally had something in her stomach, she didn't know how but every food you touched tasted a thousand times better.

"something like that" she replies as she passes the bite with a gulp of apple juice, and her mind betrays her with remembering that you had a huge gallon of apple juice in your home just for when she visited did that feel like being loved? maybe yes "they are equations, calculations, instruction and so on, sequences of steps but I have a little trouble deciphering them, I have to recreate the, understand them so I can replicate them, and runes I think? I think they are runes and I don't know what they mean, but an easy job would be boring."

"wow that sounds complicated"

She only nods at your words, before she feels the gentle weight of your bandaged hand against her slender shoulder, and immediately identifies the weight of your hand on her. A welcome weight, loved, adored even and she melts all over, mouth full; your lips softly against her hundred, with warm, abiding love.

"Blue luck" you say in a soft voice, just for her.

Jinx stays alone in her workshop, a plate of food on her desk with another sandwich which she must finish because it is a crime not to finish the food you make her with so much love next to the big glass of apple juice, a glass which you yourself had made for her filled with soft drawings of the sky clouds over a gradient in blue of different shades until bordering on black. Her old glass had broken and you, bless you, had made her a new one, a new meaning that didn't make her retch from time to time.

How much did you love her? She thinks, maybe, you loved her very much and that comforts her.

➤ Caitlyn Kiramman. 

For Caitlyn to really feel her mother's rejection for her career was like a little thorn embedded in her skin and to be reduced to only having patrols in the Piltover shopping area was a bruise on the flesh, blood grinding and reminiscent of the annoyance from time to time, she hates it. She hates that it left her on patrols in expensive stores, the commercial sector and plaza of Piltover where nothing was going on.

It took her away from the countryside where she wanted to be to see the world outside of golden Piltover.

But, as always, she found the good part of it, she could sneak away and escape at times to that elegant, beautiful and minimalist store full of beautiful flowers exported from murky waters, Bandle City, Demacia, the Freljord, Ixtal, Ionia, Noxus, Targon and Zaun, that's a lot of flowers that are on display for all who can and want to buy, a beautiful and elegant flower shop. Whenever you went in there it was a delight to your nose since it smelled like a combination of flowers, a sweet, clean and you perfume. Although it was an irony since you always smelled of flowers, and perfume.

You were her safe place.

Caitlyn makes her way pretending to check until she reaches the flower shop and enters, opening the thick ornate glass doors that only allowed a partial view of the flower shop and when she steps inside, the amalgamation of scents so pleasant hits her nose in a friendly way and then she sees you, you're in the back room she sees you coming and going with flowers in your hands, so he takes the trouble to put up the sign "I'll be back in a flower arrangement" which always gave him grace and advanced through the store seeing the elegant furniture in pleasant tones to the back room where you are humming creating very elegant flower arrangements with a crystal flower in the middle of other more extravagant and beautiful ones. She leans against the door frame, watching you create those beautiful floral arrangements before rapping her knuckles on the door.

"Did I tell you that you look like a fairy?" she questions with amusement, it's a sweet nickname she's always had for you

"This fairy witnesses an enforcer skipping her patrols? The audacity" you reply with a chuckle, amused "Mistress Cassandra put you on a leash again pretty girl?"

She snorts when she hears you, stepping fully into the back room closing the door seeing that in the back there are even more flowers on huge furniture acclimating for them "You know, she's got the short leash for me and daddy couldn't dissuade her, so I'll be here for a few weeks."

"Then we can have lunch together. What do you think?" you offer, looking for something good in between everything.

"it would be a crime not to take advantage, sure do you fancy going for lunch? I've already put up your "I'll be back in a flower arrangement" sign" she says with amusement at the text you created when you got your own place

"Oh come on, it's original miss enforcer."

Yeah, maybe there was something good about patrolling the shopping area.

➤ Mel Medarda. 

"Don't move so much dear" Mel says, without the need to see you as she hears the soft sound of the silk sliding across your skin and is concentrating on the canvas finishing finding the exact tone of your skin, as if she has it memorized already "I don't want to lose the pose I indicated".

"It's just that my thigh itches" you grumble with a disgruntled pout because of the itch and when Mel allows you to move, you scratch just a little and return to the pose that is not so uncomfortable, leaning back against an elegant armchair that Mel had acquired just for you when they started living together with only a silk covering your skin in the areas where they should be covered "Aren't you bored? I am, talk about something, I don't know."

"A troubled muse, from what I see" adds with a chuckle Mel, smiling combining the tones in the palette watching you with deep gaze analyzing your anatomy, how your thighs joined your wide hips with a softness as if you were molded by the gods themselves and maybe, it was true "I'm almost done and I'll take you to dinner at your favorite restaurant"

"I want desserts" you jump with excitement, not realizing how the silk falls from your chest revealing your breasts and you remember your possess returning to her with blushing cheeks "Sorry love"

Mel just smiles, and finds even more charming the pose you came to be in, a gentle evolution of the original pose, demure and sensual, almost an innocent combination, as your gaze falls to the side as a soft embarrassment, but notice your sidelong glance at herself, a gaze full of love and glow. It is one of the many canvases she has created, in a long list of paintings that are in her living room and there will be one more.

"You should order food first, if you eat only desserts your stomach will hurt" she points out, adding more shadows.

"Mel" you complain in a whiny and annoyed tone, holding the pose.

"Food before, dessert after and rosé wine" tries to convince Mel already knowing your eternal love for sweet, and well sweet comes back to sweet

"...okay"

"Good girl"

Silence fills the room, and Mel continues with the painting on the canvas, trying to portray your sweet self until your voice again is heard, she loves that you are that sweet and somewhat whiny woman, because it is only in moments like these where you show how spoiled she has you, and it must be so, something she learned in Noxus (maybe the only good thing) that couples will always be priority and keeps you pampered, spoiled and happy, like you have her happy always.

"Almost there?"

Yes, she loves those moments where your gaze meets hers and you look like a spoiled little princess but there is a sweet fun in your eyes that she loves and finds herself adoring.

"I think I'll paint other canvases."

"Mel!"

He just laughs, continuing, he loves when you are his muse, because in retrospect you are always his muse even when you wake up disheveled and when you are dazzlingly beautiful decked out in the best dresses. He simply loves you.

➤ Grayson. 

he stress of work weighs heavy on his body, he almost feels twice his age and when he gets home, the aroma of a meal cooking wafts from the kitchen delighting his nose and being, you are his home and he adores you, you are the perfect wife. He distracts himself by taking off his boots in the entryway, stepping onto the cold living room floor passing through the spacious living room before he gets the soft smack of you impacting against his body and he can only smile, you always do that even when they were young and he loves those effusive hugs.

"You know I come home dirty from work honey" he speaks in a soft, gravelly voice close to your ear, squeezing his arm around your shoulders and kisses your hundred, savoring that expensive cream you love so much and keeps your skin smooth, from which he steals from time to time

"You know I don't mind, I must give you your hug every time you arrive" you grumble against his suit, he smells a bit humorous and a bit sour, he sure did patrol in Zaun with the recent peace treaty between the two cities and you cling to his chest, before looking up seeing him with loving eyes, Grayson is so beautiful beyond belief and as the years go by she only gets more attractive and handsome, you love that rugged and gentle air which combine masterfully in her and you stand on tiptoe kissing her "Welcome home, I'm making your favorite but I'll leave it on low heat and I can give you a bath."

"Do I look so old that you already ueires to give me a bath yourself?" she questions, with light humor frying her nose against your cheek holding you against her body, hugging you lovingly and loving the sweetish scent on your skin.

"It's not that" you say, with a pout before kissing his jaw and biting it gently "But I want to spoil you, you're the man of the house" you add, with dark humor that only your wife understands.

Grayson can only smile, the black humor between the two was a way to deal with turbulent issues with their respective families, in your own case your father disowned you for marrying a woman (a beautiful and special woman, it should be clarified) which was something that hurt you at the time but now is a topic they make jokes like that about, and in your case your parents hated you from the beginning for not being male and well, black humor is being able to make fun of everything that can hurt them and well, in your marriage humor is never lacking.

"Well, well I can't deny my sweet wife anything."

The trip to the bathroom in the master bedroom where you both have slept for years, the uniform is left in the laundry basket and you step into the shower, getting all the dirt off listening to you humming as she watches you through the glass door that blurs everything and when she steps out, her own nakedness doesn't bother her and you less, you've seen each other naked before in all the marriage os, there's nothing sexual and when she touches the hot water with soothing salts, she almost melts against the marble, even more so when she feels your hands in her hair smearing the conditioner which keeps her frizzy hair in place and your fingers against her scalp almost makes her purr, melt against you.

"Don't you get tired of pampering me honey?" she questions in a deep voice, relaxed against the tub.

"Don't you get tired of loving me? Of waking me up with kisses? Of taking me on dates to places I tell you about and always remember? Of being the love of my life?" you question, voice soft and flowing, stroking her scalp taking care of her hair.

"Never."

"We're on the same page."

Grayson knows what it's like to feel loved, he knows what it's like to love, and he wouldn't change a thing about his life, he wants to love you for millennia if possible, in this life and beyond.

➤ Ambessa Medarda. 

"You know it's going to be hard" you say, to the air listening to her heavy, steady footsteps against the white marble floor of your personal library in the palace, your wife in all her warrior and emotionally constipated glory wandering around pacing, and you just leave her drawing the memory of the meal you had with your daughter and son-in-law; Mel and Jayce, they make such a cute couple it's inevitable not to portray them, you'll give it to your daughter.

"I know, things are never easy and even less so with Mel."

"Well, if you were banished you'd be upset too and remember, I almost divorced you, so do better."

Ambessa bites her lip, remembering that turbulent moment, as cruel as it is, that she embodies the fox and the wolf at the same time she loves her family with all her being, with everything and she could destroy a thousand regions in order to protect them, strip herself of her humanity in order not to lose them, which is a paradox since she herself banished her daughter, the daughter she loved so much and who exasperated her so much because Mel was like her before she touched death, before accepting that she could become that warlord that her clan needed because she would not throw her wife to that place although, in a global vision of everything she knows that her wife is a fox in the skin of a rabbit, she is the most lethal strategist of Noxus that even the other four warlords respect and rightly so, she does not need strength or a cannon to subdue the rest, to prove her worth and Mel also inherited that. Her daughter was, in retrospect the culmination of their love for each other in her.

"I know" she replied, annoyed but not addressing her properly dropping into the long nest you must always have in your personal library and when she sees how you put down your notebook, she comes over dropping her head in your lap "but...I really want to sort it all out."

"Have you tried talking to her yet, telling her the truth?" you question, running your fingers through her hair between wavy and curly, unruly letting her cling to your legs, her hand large and calloused against your bare leg due to the Noxus dress you wore, her fingers though they carried death and carried blood to no end on your skin, on your flesh they were gentle "...that time was hard, and you proved your point, I wasn't ready to go through that ordeal like Kino did, Mel is diplomatic and doesn't value war, death and blood like you were raised and what you held on to, but what you hold high for your clan, for your family and well Kino is just like you but with a little diplomacy in the recipe."

She just sighs, feeling your caresses and lets her guard down, feeling naked and vulnerable, nerves in the air and in your sight "I know, it was selfish of me to push her away, save her from what would end up like us"

"acknowledging it is the first step, Kino has already spoken to you and her sister, all that remains is to give that head of yours time my love."

Ambessa never knows how you can love her, weapons, blood and death, trouble recognizing her own feelings, and a fierce strength to keep her family alive, her clan but, well she wants to bathe in your love, receive your caresses and delicacy. Only you have seen this vulnerable side and yet you love it. You have seen her crying after her first war, when she came back with blood on her hands and partially broken psyche, but you were there holding her tight despite the size difference, you held her all night long letting her cry until, she became the warlord she is now.

"...Will you be with me there when I talk to Mel?"

"I'll never leave you Bess, you married me and you'll never get rid of me in hell."

And if Ambessa was true to herself, heaven, hell and earth, she always wants to be with you. With loving softness which she professes only to you, she holds your wrist kissing your pulse sliding the kisses down to your finger where a red gold ring in the shape of a vine with a crystalline diamond adorns your ring finger above the black band, she made those rings herself and you never take them off your hands.

"Then I'm in luck, because I never want to leave you."

➤ Renata Glasc. 

He knows the feeling of climbing from the depths of mud, garbage and waste to position himself at the top of the city of iron and glass, installing a house in Piltover that became the central in medicine, cost horrors but here he was today controlling Zaun from the clouds and among the light air which does not make the lungs tremble. She grew at the expense of the misfortune of others, but, in Zaun is common and controls everything, leaving a certain slack to the rest of the barons and baronesses giving them the false sensation of power and freedom, to destroy them if she believes that they will put themselves in the same step where she is.

She is privileged to be at the top of the food chain in Zaun and Piltover, even if those pilties don't know it.

Many describe her as a cruel and cold woman, she is that and more. But, if his wife asked her to freeze hell she would do it. The only truth was, your wife was the one who possessed your purest and most sincere love which she has extracted from her cold chest just for you, leaving her heart in your flimsy hands. Therefore, he finds it fascinating to look at you, to admire your body, your silhouette and various expressions, your soft hands and how your skin no longer shows that sickly tone from lack of sun.

"Stop staring at me like that Ren" you say, in a soft whisper, shy like the first time he saw you.

"Darling it's impossible to stop looking at you, you are my wife and I love to admire you" Renata replies in a deep voice, approaching with fluid steps to you, where you gently place every little piece of mirror on the wall of her office, you were her little artist "...you are a natural artist and I love to see when you create all of this"

"You have always seen me, even when I graffitied the alleys of Zaun, one would think you would be bored by now" you say, gently taking each piece of mirror sticking it on the wall creating a scene and you feel Renata's mechanical hand on your hip which makes you sigh, you try hard not to think about what happened this morning at home, when she held you with that same mechanical arm so sleek and stylish yet strong pinning you against the bed and Renata devouring you

"I never tire of your creative process."

Renata rests her chin on your head, seeing every little piece of glass on the wall simulating like a fissure where you see a beautiful city, a Zaun you dreamed of and just kisses your hundred "one day I will make that Zaun come true."

I love you and I would give you hell, heaven, earth, the firmament just to make you smile, that's what he wants to say but he's silent when he sees your smile, your eyes full of love.

Renata can't imagine anyone else by her side but you.

➤ Cassandra Kiramman. 

If someone had told you in the past that you would end up married to the girl you came to hate (I didn't really, it was a gay panic actually) who brought you gray hairs with that joy and optimism, with her sweet, pleasant and kind smiles, with her concern, naked emotions, how you weren't afraid of feelings and showing them, that girl you hate in the past is currently your wife.

She is married to the love of your life and has a daughter with you.

He sighs softly, savoring the flower tea that he likes to drink and that you brought from your travels outside Piltover, a beautiful small flower enclosed in a bud, opaque and dry until it comes in contact with hot water blooming leaving the most beautiful flowers, and creating a sweet, delicious tea with a unique flavor. A box of tea that you always brought for her, without fail along with flowers, and books from other regions that she spends her nights reading. To tell the truth, the girl she hated in the past now made her happy, her cheeks hurt from smiling so much when you came on a trip and wrapped her in a tight hug, but every time she saw that scene it made her heart flip, it was as if you carved your name on her heart and soul.

"It's not fair mommy!" you hear a little childish voice squeal with indignation, it's in the middle of the huge garden with some dartboards a considerable distance away and the little girl stomps her little foot on the ground showing her anger "You let me win and I'll tell mommy!".

Cassandra feels her heart melt, as Caitlyn is held in her wife's arms and hears her laugh, it's impossible for Caitlyn to get so angry at her wife when you always get the giggles out of her to no end.

"I didn't let you win Caitlyn, you really won there" you point out in a soft voice once you leave her leaning on your hip looking at the targets and the rifle on the ground, an exact copy of yours because that's what your daughter wanted "You'll really be a good shot you know that?"

"Do you think so mom?" questions Caitlyn, small and bright-eyed to the max, expression cheerful and hopeful

"Of course I do honey, and when you grow up I'll make a rifle just for you" you promise with a smile, watching your daughter prance in your arms and you kiss her cheeks lovingly "A rifle just for you, just like you wanted."

Cassandra just smiles, watching the cute scene and how Caitlyn sees you with bright eyes, huge and hopeful, she loved her family even that woman who made her angry, who made her laugh until she cried and break her cold facade, make her heart beat wildly, but she is the woman she loves to see sleeping next to her, she simply loves her and she wouldn't change any of that.

His life is happy.

[shortyisweird9]

'Lonely ghost serie'

You don't know how lovely you are.- part VI

Tw⚠️: swearing, medical inaccuracies(on my part)

You moved your hair away as the cold Siberian winds freeze you to the bone. You were anxious to get back home so you can finally talk with Corpse on the phone. You been talking a lot since you last called him, embarrassingly to help you deal with a baby.

This week beat your ass, tests and assignments left and right like they are Oprah. You desperately wanted to go home where is warm and where you can chat your night away with Corpse.

You finally managed to open up a Netflix account so maybe you two could watch something or talk away while you had background noise.

"I swear to God..."

- Ştiu,nu? ("I know right?")

Sabrina said as she sat on the couch, a book in her lap and a hot coffee cup on the table near her.

"Heyyy!"

"Hello,girl!"

She got up to hug you,gasping when her warmth was meet by your cold grey coat , red bare hands and shaking legs dressed in a black striped suit pants and wearing platform heels.

"My , you are practically freezing. Come ,come!"

She grabbed the blanket she's been sitting on and wrapped you with it moving you to sit down.

She left towards the kitchen to your left , you could hear her taking the kettle from one of the cupboards. You shook profoundly as you harshly rubbed your hands, you stared at your dark grey nail polish, twisting it left and right to see the light bounce on it. You lost yourself in thought:

A tattoo on them wouldn't look so bad. Maybe...

"Here."

A cup of green tea, your favourite, was presented before you. You licked your crack lips as you moved your hand to grab it, only to hiss and curse when the heat proved to be double edged.

Sabrina tried to hold her laugh but one look of your pained and disappointed eyes sent her into a burst ,snorting and laughing like a jackass. You began to laugh with her shortly after.

She puffed as she took the armchair in front, the beige coloured of it and the blood red floral blanket draped all over made it stand out. She was so small in comparison with the gigantic size of it. Still you were the shortest of the group.

"How was your day?"

"Switching to English?"

She nodded.

"Hmm..fine.It isn't like I been speaking it for like 6 hours. My day went on,hmmm, ever washed a cat?"

"Ever washed a llama that simply disdain the idea of being even remotely washed?"

"W-What? Nu,deci,nu. You washed a llama?!"

"Yes,ma'am. Got the scar to prove it."

She jumped a bit off her bent leg ,to bring the polar white sweater up , a deep scar healed in a shaky circle stood there. Your eyes blinked in shock.

"Tell. Me."

"Of course, m'lady."

Her cheery tone lighted the grave tune of your morbid curiosity, you did like crime related shows after all.

————————————————————

"How?!" Corpse said in bewilderment, laughing in between.

"I know right? She said she felt every bone in her body putting itself back in the place. Even those in her ears."

Your hands covered by your oversized warm black sweatshirt went crazy as you said the story, stopping only to take a breath or to let the burst of laughter die down.

"Man, your friends are crazy."

"Pleease, when I was like 11-"

"I'm eleven so shut the fuck up."

"Shh, Corpse." You said smiling. "Anyway, when I was eleven years old, I used to play with some girls hide and seek or v-ați ascunselea and somehow my stupid ass managed to land into a tree branch."

"What?"

"Yeah, but not like with my chubby ass body ,noooo sir. With my eye."

"What the fuck, which one?"

"The right one, I have a scar running down it till the start of my lips."

"Wait,how? Do you still see?"

"Oh,yeah."You dismissed the question with a shake of a hand, getting back into the story.

"My folk were so scarred and they have a huge fight with my grandma who was busy with gossiping her neighbours. "

"Oh my fucking--Did it hurt?"

"Oh ,yeah but luckily it healed pretty quickly and now I got a sick scar."

"Do you have other scars?"

"Hmm, hella. My hands and arms are littered with them."

You laughed but stopped yourself when you didn't hear anything from Corpse.

"Um, my petit orchid? Are you..are you there?"

"Did you do them because you...you w-were.. um...um..." His voice ran on jittery and trembling in panic as he haulted to draw a breath and calm whatever nerves caused him to panic.

"Self harming?"

"Y-Yeah."

"Oh! No ,of course not. I hate pain. I have them because I cut myself a lot with my butterfly knife."

"W-With your knife?" He still spoke in shaky syllables.

"Yeah, I learn tricks like pinwheel , helix aerial, kiss goodbye and such."

"And you didn't taped the blade?"

"...I am a very chaotic and lazy person, Corpse."

You two laughed the intensity of the room. Your heart blooming at the idea that Corpse was genuinely worried about you but you sighed, getting ahead of yourself only landed you for disappointment and realistic bitterness.

"You...You were really worried about me there, weren't you Corpse?" You rhetorically asked in a shy manner, your mind and ,more,your heart needed to hear this for some reason.

"Y-Yeah, goofball. You got me there for a second. "

"Awww, don't worry my petit orchid. I ain't going nowhere. "

Not with my heart beating so fast and the pressure I have on my guts and the end of my lungs.

"P-Promise?"

"I would pinky promise the fuck out of you, my little orchid. Unfortunately ,I cannot. "

"Maybe some time in the future ?"

You could hear the smile in his voice, your own grin becoming bigger because of that. This manz raises my serotonin like no one's business.

"Of course, Corpse. Whenever you are ready ."

————————————————————

The rest of the night was spent watching cheap movies ,roasting the unrealistic characters and taking occasional breaks to regain your brain cells back.

"You been quiet."

You jumped ,stabbing your pointing finger with a sewing needle. You hissed as you moved to pull it out of your finger.

"Ghost ,what happened?"

"I was...ah shit...this will hurt."

You clenched your teeth and groaned as you pull the long glimmering needle out ,your skin reddening immediately as a bit of blood sprung out.

"Ghost? Goofball,please answer. "

"Y-yeah, I am fine. You scared me when you started to so the needle I am using went into my finger. It hurts."

"I am sorry,but what do you use the needle for?"

"Decorative sewing. "

"And whatcha making?"

"A flower ...for you!"

"Awww....that's so cute. You don't have to."

"BUT I WANT...I mean it's cool ,don't worry about it."

You stupid fucking dinosaur... You mumbled under your breath as you continued on your work, red cheeks of pure embarrassment.

Your pitiful attempt of covering your slip up was rewarded with one of his angelic chuckles, you seemed to make him laugh a lot. That's a good thing,right? Maybe he's just laughing at your clowny ass...

You huffed, eyebrows knitted in annoyance. Oh how you hated those belittling thoughts, they did nothing but ruin everything for you.

Or maybe you ruin them yourself..

"Shut up!"

"What?"

Ah,shit!

"Sorry ,Corpse, not you. I just...I lost myself in thought, hahaha...yeah thought. "

You slapped yourself so hard,your head was dizzy for it.

"Are you sure everything is fine ,goofball. I am always here for you."

Aww...

You sighed, tired all of sudden. "Yeah, orchid. I am fine,thanks for asking. "

"No need.I care about you, you know? A lot."

The last part was said in such a low tone that your ears couldn't pick it up. Unfortunately for Corpse who was busy playing with his sweater paws to calm his nerves.

"I care about you too ,Corpse. I think I will go. Good night !"

"'Night."

The reason why I am so worried about you ,Ghost, is because I don't think you realise ...

"... how lovely you are."

————————————————————

Hey, guys!💖

Hope you enjoyed the part six of this serie, it's bit shorter but I wanted it to be after the last part.

I am interested in what do you think will happen next.

Stay safe!💗

Tagged💖:@moolujk @magenta-skyline @cherry-piee @yoyoanaria @yikesyikesyikes95 @softboiicorpse @heavenly3308 @simonsbluee @mythicalamphitrite @gaysludge

[pen-and-a-microphone]

So I got tagged by @timetoriseabove in the “answer 20 questions, tag 10 people” challenge! And tagging nobody cause I have anxiety

Name: Blue (not my birth name but it's what I go by)

Pronouns: She/Her

Nicknames: Blue, any variant of Elizabeth which is my middle name, schmoo (my mother is French and that's the word for darling but she's changed to be more pet-namey, it was originally chou)

Zodiac: Sagittarius

Height: 5′6" (I think)

Languages: English, French

Nationality: English

Favorite season: Winter

Favorite scent: Birthday candles right after they've gone out (weirdly niche I know), eucalyptus

Favorite color: Three guesses (it's blue) but also I kinda love all colours

Favorite animal: All of the above. Apart from spiders.

Favorite fictional characters: Heather chandler (my life goals), all the queens, I can't think of any more off the top of my head

Coffee, Tea, or hot chocolate: Hot chocolate but special coffee during exam season (made with equal parts black coffee and red bull - do not try this at home)

Average sleep hours: A solid 10-12 thanks to a lot of sleeping pills

Dog or cat person: Both, used to be scared of dogs but now I love them

Number of blankets I sleep with: As many as I can fit on my bed without overheating (between 1 and 7)

Dream Trip: Probably Paris again, I miss it

Blog established: Oh jesus, like 2014? It's changed around a lot since then

Followers: 190ish

Random life advice because I know exactly 0 facts:

- always use sanitary needles to tattoo yourself

- knives are a terrible way to hang things up, do not stick them in your walls

- it is entirely possible to break the bones in your hand but I would not recommend it

- certain types of alcohol are illegal in the UK so do not go looking for them

- throwing knives is more about force than dexterity

- don't explore abandoned buildings alone, even if you own a hard hat

- putting on a high-vis jacket allows you to break many laws without being caught

- if you're going to put up posters advertising a phone sex service with your school's phone number underneath, make sure they can't be tracked back to you

- don't try to fight anyone more than a foot taller than you

- before you engrave a gigantic pentagram in the concrete under the floor of your room to scare any future homeowners, ask yourself if you really wanna be inviting that kinda energy in (the answer is no)

[bliindinglights]

⧼    kathryn newton, cisfemale, she/her   /   maybe idk - jon bellion   +   cancelled plans at the last minute , forgotten about wilted, yellow tulips in a mason jar , a worn in, oversized denim jacket that gets thrown into every outfit regardless of formality     ⧽   ━━   let me tell you a thing or two about ASTRID GALE VIDARSDOTTIR. the TWENTY THREE year old daughter of VIDAR BJORK-THORSON is a POSTGRAD student at paragon academy, and has sometimes been referred to as THE PARADOX. they’ve always seemed very CURIOUS & COLORFUL, though i’ve heard that they can be pretty FLIGHTY & WEAK-WILLED, too. it’s common knowledge that they have the power / ability of WATER MANIPULATION & PARTIAL ASGARDIAN PHYSIOLOGY ; guess we shouldn’t get on their bad side, huh?  

first off, hello ! i’m lex ! i’m 24, use she/her pronouns and im located in the est timezone ! i am v excited to be here, feel free to slide into my dms to plot ! 

cute & fun headcanons : 

a lil bit of a crust of a gal !

calls herself baby

can b an asshole

vegetarian !

very sleepy gal - for no reason at all. napping is a ~hobby~

quotes tik toks and definitely went through a heelys phase in 2019

very,, flighty. queen of ‘i wasn’t going to go but i wanted to be invited’. is notorious for trying to bail out of plans so she often has to be dragged to outings

she’s aware of her flakiness - it’s not something she likes and has made small strides to combat. she joined a sorority to make new friends, but also to give her some structure that she HAD to abide by. 

has five tattoos and will contest that two of them were a good idea at the time but ultimately,,, regrets them ( s/o to the YOLO lip tattoo she got four years ago and it STILL hasn’t faded, despite being promised it would ). the other she regrets is simply because it is so cliche - it was her first, a simple wave beneath and to the side of her right breast. she’s also got a conure perched on a half moon on her back left shoulder, this on the back of her upper right arm, and ‘vis ta vie’ on her inner left leg, just above the ankle. 

she’s very smart when she puts her mind to something, it’s just the matter of staying invested in whatever she’s working on. fortunately, she does pick up on things quickly. for example, she learned how to sufficiently play piano in about three months before she ditched the hobby all together. played every sport under the sun for a year before eventually ditching it ( with the exception of swimming ). 

that being said - despite being 23 this is her first year of graduate school at paragon academy, due to the fact that she changed her major three times in undergrad.

has a blue crowned conure named paulie, yes - just like the movie. it was her favorite growing up !

is a swim instructor and lifegaurd ( during the summer ) at the local swim club! loves working with kiddos ! has travelled to a lot of really cool places in the world doing different missions with nonprofits and or/research working on tagging sharks and studying their populations ! 

some *history* :

born august 2, 1996. she’s one of five children of vidar thorson ! is the ( older ) irish twin of tova, which is cute n funky n fresh

she has. . . always been flighty. when she was younger, it was more so with her emotions - they would turn on a dime. she felt things very vibrantly. when she was happy, she was overwhelmingly so. when something even mildly set her off, you knew. very much a realist growing up. saw things for how they were, and it often upset her.

her childhood was good. she loved her parents, loved her siblings. she valued the time where they ALL were together, but she made it. . . very known she was unhappy when her dad would leave. large tantrums and screaming fits when she was younger. acting out when she got older ( she’s mellowed out though, now she’s just. dumb ).

she has a pretty good relationship with her mom. by no means is she the closest to her out of the lot, but they get on well. maybe not so much in her teens when astrid was busy acting out, but really. . . that’s ANY teen and their parents, isn’t it?

rly clung to tova after the incident at the shops. she mourned for her aunt, she did, as much as a thirteen year old girl could, but tova was her highest concern. she didn’t know how, per se, to comfort someone in tova’s situation aside from being there when needed ( even when her presence wasn’t asked for i.e sleeping on the floor beside her bed ).

she has a . . . tricky relationship with her dad and goes back and forth, often, about whether or not she wants a better relationship with him. when she was younger she just wanted his consistent, undivided attention. wanted him to be around. she knows his absence does not come with an easy answer, but that’s never changed how she felt. there’s a lot of. . . undealt with animosity, for lack of better wording, on her part. the damage was done, and being nearer to him has thrown her through a loop. it’s not uncommon for her to agree to plans to see him and then cancel on them at the last minute. also not uncommon to reach out at the last minute, too. fickle chick.

i’ll likely add onto this as i build onto astrid and work out where she fits in the grand scheme of things ! 

wanted connections ! i’ll send these to the main in a more. . . formal format, eventually, but ! :

a squad that rly b drinking,,, the stupid bitch juice ~ people she just does dumb shit with. admittedly they have probably. . . matured, a bit, since their rly dumb days considering i’d imagine most of them to be grad students or well, graduated but i think that is a good foundation, of sorts, to build off of. like any young adults finding time for each other after undergrad could always be. . . a time. these are also likely her tried and true best friends. her constants. could rly b anyone, i think this could be cool if they’re all polar opposites, but they should be around her age !i’d imagine it’s a group of four, maybe three, i’m not rly picky. 

astrid has likely had one or two exes. she floats both ways, so this would be open to anyone. it was likely her that led to their demise. she’s flighty in all things. plans. feelings. maybe she was just a straight up lousy girlfriend. didn’t allot enough time to the relationship to make it work. maybe her feelings sizzled quickly after the two became a thing. it does not HAVE to be that way, just some options, as astrid’s STILL really figuring herself out and i really doubt she was a perfect opposite in the past. but, hey ! if you have something else in mind, i’m not picky. 

mentors !!! people that have tried to help her get her shit together. professors wise, maybe they helped her freshman/sophomore year settle on selecting an actual major that worked. i imagine that sort of connection would have stuck for her, and she often would turn to them for advice or help. it could come in the form of a faux-big sibling, too. i am always a sucker for. that shit.

if your character would have ANYTHING to do with the ocean, that’s something cool to build off ! i imagine she’s done lots of educational trips and internships, apprenticeships and what not, whether it is tagging marine life, studying coastal ecosystems/shore erosion. a few summers during undergrad she often helped with rehab & release !

coworkers ! she works at the local swim club so that could be ! fun ! people she did dumb shit with while drunk ( maybe your char was there when she got one of the stupid tattoos ? and they never spoke again ? this could b funny ) ! friends that she was friends with for the hottest minute but lost interest ! or maybe they just grew apart ! i imagine she was never part of a solid friend group for a while, just kind of. . . hopped from one to the other, so if that would fit somewhere, that would be cool ! someone she always runs into at the pet store ?? who knows ! previous hook-ups ! if your character teaches something, she could have been a former student of theirs before she gave up the interest ! i’d also love for some connects where people just. . . don’t like her for whatever reason. could be enemies, doesn’t have to be. maybe just animosity. maybe its her behavior. who she hangs out with. something else we could plot out, idk. 

[silverfootstepswrites]

title Tremor summary It might be better not to hear pairing itasaku, tobisaku, hot messes

Part i | Part ii | Part iii | Part iv | Part v | Part vi | Part vii | Part viii | Part ix | Part x | Part xi | Part xii | Part xiii | Part xiv | Part xv | Part xvi | Part xvii | Part xviii | Part xix | Part xx | Part xxi | Part xxii | Part xxiii | Part xxiv (here) | Part xxv | Part xxvi | Part xxvii | Part xxviii | Part xxix | Part xxx | Part xxxi | Part xxxii | Part xxxiii | Part xxxiv | Part xxxv | Part xxxvi | Part xxxvii| Part xxxviii | Part xxxix | Part XL (it ends here)

“You’ve been a loyal foot soldier of the 24K for years now. It’s time for your initiation, Jing-Mei.”

Hashirama’s words rang in her ears. Sakura refilled her flask, eyes unfocused. She swore as the drink overflowed, dribbling down her hand. She sucked the alcohol off her fingertips. Her lipstick smearing onto her thumb. 

“What’re you going to do, Jing-Mei?” asked Tenten. Her black eyes fixed on her. Flipping a blade back and forth between her hands. 

“What do you mean? It’s done,” Sakura said, glancing at her over her shoulder. She screwed the cap back on the bottle. And then she turned, taking a generous swig. 

Tenten flicked her braid over her shoulder. She flipped her knife one last time before she shoved it back in the holster on her thigh. 

“You could say no. Aren’t you his favorite or something?” 

“Even a favorite dog will be put down if it bites its master, Tenten,” Sakura warned. Tenten raised her eyebrows.

“Alright, Confucius. Whatever you say,” she replied, getting to her feet. “Honestly, I don’t give a shit about those geezers. I’ve got your back. Not theirs.” She mimed shooting guns with both hands. 

Sakura cracked a smile. She handed the flask over. Tenten guzzled the cheap whiskey down. Making a face as she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand.

“Does that mean I have to call you ‘Boss’ from now on?” asked Tenten, grinning. It was Sakura’s tun to grimace. She shoved Tenten in the shoulder as she walked past.

“Shut up. Let’s go eat lunch,” Sakura responded.

“If you’re paying, Boss.”

Orochimaru had left her everything. All of his properties, his assets. Down to the clothes in his wardrobe. 

Even the attorney she had hired let out a low whistle as he read over the list. 

“Sis, if you weren’t rich before, you sure as hell are now,” he remarked, adjusting his glasses. 

Sakura turned the chair around the straddled it. Crossing her arms across the top rail.

“Cut the crap, Jiraiya,” Sakura cut into his musings. He eyed her over his glasses.

“You know, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar,” he pointed out to her.

“Good thing you’re not a fly then,” she retorted. He sighed, shaking his head. 

“I’d have to look some stuff up, but it looks like you’ll have to pay an estate tax on this. I want to double-check the numbers,” he said half to himself. And then he looked up. “But this guy is from Hong Kong. Why was his will written in English?”

Sakura clicked her tongue at him. 

“Orochimaru always said that he didn’t trust Chinese. He said people would fight wars over how to read one damn character. Or maybe he was trying to show off how good his English was. He was always so proud of that,” Sakura recalled. 

“How was his English?” queried Jiraiya, packing up his suitcase.

Sakura smiled.

“Awful.”

With Jiraiya’s help, she ended up selling most of what Orochimaru had left her. She really had no use for his penthouse near City Hall. And she had no use for his seven sports cars. She kept the limo, though. It wasn’t practical for everyday use, but it was a nice way to make an entrance at certain events. 

It didn’t rain on the day of Orochimaru’s funeral. Sakura thought it should have.

Orochimaru had quite literally stabbed the previous chairman in the back. None of the other Red Poles attended the funeral. After all, who would pay respects to a traitor? And that suited Sakura just fine. 

She sent word out to the members of just the Jade gang. She ordered the flowers and the casket. And she was the one who spoke. There was no priest, no fancy ceremony. Orochimaru had always hated religion. He probably would have frowned at even the incense lit in front of his portrait.

“I didn’t think he mattered that much to you,” murmured Tenten as tears escaped from Sakura’s eyes. Sakura hurried to wipe them away. Setting her mouth into a hard line.

“Neither did I,” whispered Sakura in return.

Late that night, Sakura stood on the balcony of one of Orochimaru’s apartments. The inside was garishly decorated in blacks and reds. The man had certainly been called many things, but bland was not one of them.

“Why do you think I asked Hashirama to give me you, Jing-Mei?” he had asked her one night, standing on this very balcony. His silky hair tucked behind his ear. A glass of red wine held in his palm. 

“To piss him off?” Sakura remembered answering. 

And Orochimaru laughed, head falling back. The tattoo of a snake curling around his throat like a living thing. 

“Partly,” he conceded. And then his expression sobered. Golden eyes glittering as he tilted his head to one side. Like he was considering something about her face. 

“I’d heard rumors of a girl. Some broad Hashirama found on the streets and took on as a pet project,” Orochimaru explained. Sakura didn’t bristle. She had heard much worse things before. 

“And I wanted to see what was so good about that girl. What would have caught Hashirama’s interest?” he went on. 

“And?” prompted Sakura.

A smile lit up Orochimaru’s face. He pointed at her. Reached out to tap directly between her eyes.

“That expression. The look of a woman who was prepared to tear someone’s throat out with her own teeth. The moment I saw that, I knew that I wanted to groom you,” he said before he took a sip of his too-sweet wine. 

“Groom me? To do what?” she recalled spitting back. Still so filled with anger. The lingering ache of being abandoned by Hashirama. Being pawned off like an old piece of furniture. But Orochimaru lifted her chin, beaming. 

“I want to sharpen those fangs, my dear. I want to open up the lion’s cage at the zoo and see what havoc you’ll wreak.”

Even as she remembered this all, Sakura still didn’t understand. 

She leaned against the railing, just as Orochimaru once had. It was cold this high up. As pretty as the view was, she shivered. Looking around, she found one of his sweaters draped over the back of a chair. She pulled her arms through the sleeves. The fragrance of Orochimaru’s cologne still clung to the wool. And when she patted the pockets, she felt a lump. She pulled out a box of cigarettes, and a silver lighter with a dragon engraved into the side. 

She lit one of the cigarettes, holding it between two of her fingers. She watched the smoke lift from the tip before it was whisked away by the wind. And as the fragrance filled the air, it almost felt like Orochimaru was standing right beside her. Swirling his wine. Smiling so brilliantly in that sad, sad way. 

“When I die, I want it to be a spectacle. I want to be remembered,” he had told her once. 

Raising the cigarette to her lips, hands shaking, she gulped down an ashy breath. Coughed as the smoke filled her lungs and burned. She exhaled between her teeth, eyes filling with tears.

“Goodbye, you weirdo,” she whispered, letting the tears drip down her face as she coughed her way through that first cigarette.

All those years later, Sakura still remembered Orochimaru. A soft-spoken man who loved art and culture as much as he loved flaying the skin off his enemies. And though he hadn’t died a spectacle, she supposed that he must be half-happy. Because she still recalled the way he pointed with his cigarette as he spoke. How he picked the scallions out of his food when he ate.

And for some reason, Sakura remembered Orochimaru as she stepped through the door to the “real estate office”. She left Tenten outside to stand guard. The men Tenten had knocked out wouldn’t be getting up any time soon anyway. And there was also a sniper across the street. He would hear if anything went wrong through the mic taped to the inside of her shirt.

Sakura crept through the storage room, careful not to kick any boxes. And when she emerged in the narrow hallway, she could see a door ajar at the far end. Fluorescent light spilling out through that crack. She tread carefully. Testing each stretch of the floor before she put her weight on it fully. But when she reached the room and peered in through the crack, she realized that all her caution was for nothing. Because Madara sat with his back to the door, giant headphones covering his ears. He bobbed his head along to the music, waving his fingers in the air like a conductor’s baton. She reached into her pocket as she tiptoed into the room.

A shout tried to escape from Madara when something constricted around his windpipe. Instead, all that came out was a grunt. He clawed at his throat. Fingernails catching on the nylon stockings. He tilted his head back to see Sakura smiling down at him, her teeth gleaming. 

“I know what you’re thinking. ‘How did she find me here?’” she said. Clicking her tongue as Madara struggled to break free. She tightened her grip on the stockings, pulling them even tighter. His face began to turn purple.

“The better question would be, ‘Why did I ever think to piss off Haruno Sakura?’“ Sakura went on. Madara gurgled. Fingernails drawing blood as he continued to scrape. As his body started to go limp, she kept the pressure on his windpipe. Listening to the pathetic wheezes as his oxygen-deprived brain began to give up. And just as his eyes began to roll back, Sakura released him. Her fingertips tingled as she blood rushed back into them. The stockings left angry red marks on her hands. 

Madara gulped down greedy breaths, coughing and retching. Tears and saliva mixing as they dripped off his chin.

“But we’ll get to that later. First, you’re going to tell me everything about your deals with Kabuto,” Sakura said. And Madara slowly lifted his head, bloodshot eyes glowering at her as he choked down precious breaths. Sakura smiled.

“And if you lie, I won’t bother with this again,” Sakura added, gesturing to the stockings. She reached into her pocket to pull out her golden revolver. “I’ll just fucking empty all these bullets into your body.”

As he hacked, Madara met her eyes. A smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“That was actually a little hot,” he wheezed.

“Ugh,” Sakura said. She unloaded a bullet into his shoulder. Blew the smoke from the end of the gun. And she watched him howl with pain, blood dribbling out between his fingers. 

“Next one goes in your skull. Talk.”

Tobirama started when the back door banged open downstairs. He craned his neck back to check the security monitors on the wall. And as he saw her walking up the stairs, his shoulders relaxed. He switched his cigarette to the other side of his mouth. Her heels tapped against the scuffed floor. She held up a bottle of wine and two glasses. 

“I don’t like wine, Jing-Mei,” he reminded her for the millionth time.

“I don’t care,” she answered for the millionth time.

He took the bottle from her. Pulling a knife from his pocket, he wedged the cork out with the tip of the blade. He poured the glasses. Set the bottle on the floor. 

Sakura took one. And even though there were other chairs free, she deposited herself in his lap. Calves draped over the armrest. 

“When did you get back to Hong Kong?” he asked, clinking his glass against hers.

Sakura sipped her wine. And then she held the glass to her chest as she smiled at him.

“A few hours ago,” she answered. Her eyes drifting down. She touched his chest, lightly. Felt no box in the pocket. So she plucked the cigarette from his mouth and placed it between her lips.

“You’re welcome,” he remarked.

Sakura winked. Tobirama sighed. He leaned his head back, letting it loll against the old sofa. She blew smoke into his face. He blinked a few times.

“So what’s the occasion?” he queried. He lifted his head in time to catch Sakura suddenly avoiding his gaze. Tobirama’s eyes narrowed.

“What?” he demanded.

“You remember that night your brother became the Dragon Head?” Sakura asked. She pulled the cigarette out of her mouth. Inspected the ring of lipstick she had left around it. 

He scowled.

“That was years ago? What about it?”

She glanced at his expression. Sighing, she gave his cheek a light push.

“It’s nothing,” she said.

Part i | Part ii | Part iii | Part iv | Part v | Part vi | Part vii | Part viii | Part ix | Part x | Part xi | Part xii | Part xiii | Part xiv | Part xv | Part xvi | Part xvii | Part xviii | Part xix | Part xx | Part xxi | Part xxii | Part xxiii | Part xxiv (here) | Part xxv | Part xxvi | Part xxvii | Part xxviii | Part xxix | Part xxx | Part xxxi | Part xxxii | Part xxxiii | Part xxxiv | Part xxxv | Part xxxvi | Part xxxvii| Part xxxviii | Part xxxix | Part XL (it ends here)

[a-tired-bitch]

You Should Know Better Pt. 12

23 Parts:  I  -  II  -  III  -  IV  -  V  -  VI  -  VII  - VIII  -  IX  -  X  -  XI  -  XII  -  XIII -  XIV  -  XV  -  XVI  -  XVII  -   XVIII  -  XIX  -  XX  -   XXI  -  XXII  -  XXIII

MASTER LIST

YSKB MASTER LIST

Summary: Waking up in a bed that isn’t hers, Natalie quickly figures out where she is. 

POV: Natalie

Characters: Natalie Jankoski, Joe Merriweather (Italics

Word Count: 2500ish

Author’s Note: xXx

Quote:  “Go wash that dirty mouth of yours and we’ll talk afterward,”

The soothing, yet repetitive pitter-pattering of the Saturday morning showers brought Natalie further away from her not-so-restful slumber and closer to her awakening.

Rolling over from her side and onto her stomach, a long and tiresome groan escaped from her half-sleep lips as she settled back down, attempting to fall back into her slumber. Snaking a weary hand across the cotton sheets, her hand rested at what she thought was the end of her bed.

Clutching and twisting the sheet in her hand, Natalie arched her back, stretching out the muscles before following it up by tensing her whole body. As this resulting in a pleasure moan breaking the silence of the room.

Annoyed by the low rumbling of the thunder and the repetitive hits of rain hitting the window, she pushed herself down, her head resting on the soft mattress as her hand returned to her body, resting beneath her head.

Pulling the covers over her head in an attempt to drown out the noise, her senses began to awaken with every passing second and every move of her body. With the covers draped over her, it was then, that the strong, yet refreshing scent of a man's cologne began to fill her nostrils and the space around.

Fiddling with the cover until she gripped it between her fingers, she brought the comforter to her nose, pressing her face into the soft material. Lowering her head back onto the mattress, she inhaled deeply into covers, lingering in the familiar scent.

As the familiar scent began to register in her brain, her eyes flashed open at the crackle of lightning nearby.

With her body fully awake, she released the covers and propped herself up on her forearms, letting the covers fall around her body as whatever light the rainy day offered began to filter in through the opening before her.

With the scent flowing out of the space, but still lingering in the sheets, it began to dawn on her who the smell belonged to.

Staring at the bed frame and then down at the sheets beneath her, it dawned on her that neither of these things belonged to her.

Rolling her head from side to side, she felt her stomach dropped as she finally figured out where she was and who was with her.

Shaking the covers from her head, the surroundings of the room were finally revealed and they definitely weren’t ones she was familiar with.

Knowing that she was alone since the spot next to her was cold and there was nobody weighing the mattress down, Natalie plopped back down onto the bed as a waterfall of muffled curse words came from her mouth.

Sitting back up, she scanned the dimly lit room, her eyes bouncing from pictures to dressers to bottle silhouettes and whatever else the clutter-less room offered.

Letting her eyes rest on a picture frame that was on the nightstand, she stared at the glass, the only thing visible was her own reflection, offering her a chance to reflect on the actions of last night.

Natalie remembered most of the party - walking a few blocks to Ryan’s house and showing up later in the night, drinking with the masses of people, playing beer-pong and losing most of the rounds of that dreaded chandelier game, taking those shots, mixing a few red Solo cups, and then of course, hearing that single siren and seeing those flashing lights from the backyard. She remembered all that and most of the night, but what she couldn’t remember fully was how she ended up here.

Crawling to the edge of the bed, she sat on its edge while her hands rubbed her tired eyes and her toes skimmed across the carpet.

Finally standing up, Natalie looked down at herself, realizing that she was still in the same clothes as last night - a good thing in her mind. Another crackle of lightning came, illuminating the room just slightly since the blinds were drawn.

Running a hand through her hair, she began to cautiously walk along the bed until she reached a wall and flicked on a light - the lights finally gracing the room with its presence.

The lights served as her own personal flash of lightning - her vision blinded by the bright fanlight. Rubbing her eyes for a moment, she let her hand drop back to her side as she finally turned to look around the bedroom.

Deep down, she wanted to snoop around the bedroom and see all the things it offered, but she knew that at any moment, her curiosity could get her in trouble and Joe would come barging through the room. So, instead of being the creep she so badly wanted to be, she gripped the door and slowly pulled it open. Plus, on the not-so-bright side, she wanted to figure out where Joe was.

Giving the room one last glance, Natalie flicked the lights off before slowly shutting the door and entering the short hallway.

Clearing her throat, she listened intently to see if she could hear anyone walking around the house, but the only audible thing was the sound of the rain and the occasional rumble of thunder. Searching her body for her phone, it was apparent that after a moment, she was phone-less.

Grumbling, she began to slowly walk down the small hallway, stopping before a set of hung pictures. In the pictures was Joe, mainly in his younger years, with some showing him with different women, but the majority was him and his accomplishments.

One picture showed a uniformed Joe hugging an older woman, presumably his mother. Another showed two uniformed men shaking hands while holding a certificate. Another one showed Joe sitting behind the wheel of a boat with his arms wrapped around a blonde woman who was sitting on his lap - the two of them clearly happy and enjoying each other by the big smiles on their faces.

In addition, were pictures of Joe and family, Joe with colleagues, and Joe with a large dog, but the one that caught his eye was the biggest framed picture.

Staring at the fairytale type wedding picture, Natalie stared at a very nicely groomed and suited up Joe who had his forehead against a very pretty blonde whose white wedding dress flowed around them, the tail of her veil trailing behind her. The two of them were staring into each other’s eyes, her hands wrapped under his elbows, his hands gently gripping her neck while the suns rays broke through the trees, making the two of them almost glow.

The loud rumble of thunder made Natalie step away from the picture and continue walking down the hallway. It only took a handful of steps until she reached the living room where a man’s feet draped over the edge of the couch. The sound of light snoring from Joe accompanied the light pitter-pattering of the rain. With light and calculated steps, Natalie silently walked around the couch until she stood in front of the TV and behind a coffee table. She stared at a sleeping Joe, watching as his chest rose and fell with every breath under the cover. It was almost weird to see a man who was usually always serious, finally calm and at peace.

Her eyes then rested on the lump under the covers. Tilting her head as if that would help with seeing through the cover, she watched as the lump rose and fell as well.

All of a sudden, a snout popped out from under the covers, the rest of the dogs head following in line as well. A string of growls broke the silence, making Natalie take a step back and making Joe shift under the blanket, his eyes flashing open as he was startled awake.

“Duke, no.” A very rugged and deep voice warned. “Cut it out. No growl.” Joe commanded before pulling the dog by its collar and snuggling back into the fur of the German Shepard.

A moment of silence passed as Joe just stared at Natalie from behind the fur of Duke. “And you need to cut it out too.” He deadpanned, stretching out his legs, cracking his ankles before sitting up and letting the covers slide down his bare torso. “How are you feeling? It’s nice to see you not throwing up.” He cleared his throat, running his hand along his chest and shoulder before placing it back down on the soft fur of his companion.

It was the first time Natalie had seen her professor shirtless and it was honestly a sight to see, but at the same time, it was a bit amusing considering they had already done the dirty and Joe had already seen her in the nude. Instead of scanning over his body or the countless newly discovered tattoos that claimed his upper arms, left breast, and right shoulder, her eyes bounced from scar to scar.

Bringing her eyes back to stare at his, Natalie answered. “No hangover, but I’m thirsty, that’s for sure.” She looked back at the dog that was jumping down from the couch, stretching and yawning afterward. “What happened last night? Why am I here and not home?” She questioned, shifting on her feet before carefully walking to a recliner all the while the piercing eyes of Duke stared up at her.

Nodding, Joe swung his legs over the side of the couch, adjusting the thin blanket that rested on his lap. “I bet you are thirsty.” He muttered, rubbing his tired eyes. “You know, because of the throwing up and alcohol.” He added, throwing his arms out and cracking his elbows. “What happened?” Joe repeated her words, laughing at them. “Do you not remember?” He questioned, leaning over and running his hand through Duke’s thick fur.

“If I remembered, I wouldn’t be asking.”

Defensively throwing up his hands, Joe let out a strained chuckle. “Well, where to start.” He thought to himself as he lowered his hands and leaning into the couch. “I assume that you still remember most of what happened at that little party you were at, so, I’m just going to bypass that. Anyways, after escorting your drunken self out of the house, I loaded you into my truck, and we were on our way back to your house, but we had to make a little pit stop because when I looked over at you, you were about two seconds away from throwing up all over my dashboard - you were too quiet and just staring out the windshield, I’m all too familiar with that look when it comes to a drunk. So, I pulled over and quickly opened your door, and just as I expected, the floodgates of throw up opened and you nearly caught me with that mess, but I think my trucks sidestep wasn’t as lucky.” Joe chuckled, shaking his head, his eyes staring at his reflection in the blackened TV. “After that whole thing happened, we reached your house, but from the looks of it, no one was home and that’s when I decided to bring you here instead. Why? Well, that’s simple. You were throwing up and I wasn’t going to let you sleep in a house where no one was able to check up on you throughout the night.” Rubbing his hands together, he continued. “So, I brought you back here and by the time we arrived, you were passed out, so, I carried you inside, placed you in my bed, gave you some water, wiped your face clean, and watched you for a few minutes while I changed and did my own thing.”

Leaning back in the chair, Natalie stared up at the ceiling as a wave of embarrassment washed over her. “Please tell me I didn’t make a bigger fool of myself throughout the night.” She nearly begged, hoping that nothing more happened.

“It was actually the morning, so, in a way, you’re right?” Joe answered, confused by his answer. “But you get what I mean.” He waved his hand, shooing away his last response. “Back to the story - you threw up a few times here, the barfing session stopping at six or so when you finally threw up bile and returned to my bed. I helped you to the bathroom and held your hair back while this all happened because I am such a nice man.” Joe boasted, a smile claiming his lips. “I wanted to change you and get you into something more comfortable, but I don’t have any spare women’s clothing around and I didn’t wanna bother you.” He finally looked away from the TV and rested his sights on her. “You see, when you’re in my position, you become accountable for someone else besides yourself - I was just doing my service and making sure you made it through the night. I may have broken a handful of policies and moral standings, but I did what I had to do.” His tone was heavy, yet light and sincere. “I would say ‘don’t be embarrassed’, but it’s obvious my words won’t do much.”

A long groan came from Natalie as she listened to Joe finish up. “Don’t be embarrassed.” She repeated, scoffing at the ridiculous advice. “Yeah, because throwing up and having my damn professor right by my side, witnessing it all, and looking after me isn’t something to be embarrassed about. Like, come on, Joe, that’s like the number one reason to be embarrassed on the list of reasons to be embarrassed.” Natalie sighed, shaking her head.

“Hey, my partner thinks I’m banging your mom, so, that’s worth a laugh or two.” He jested, taking to his feet. “He doesn’t suspect a thing.” Joe grabbed the shirt that was draped over the armrest.

“Wow,” Natalie said with false shock. “Glad no one knows I got banged by my professor. That’s something I don’t have to be embarrassed about.” She praised with nothing more than sarcasm as she watched him dress.

“Whoa now, that’s nothing to be embarrassed about. In my opinion, that’s a check off my bucket list - you know, if I was in your shoes.” Muffled Joe as his head finally popped out of the shirt, a smile on his face as she walked over to her. “I have a spare toothbrush in the bathroom, go wash that dirty mouth of yours and we’ll talk afterward,” Joe ordered, his hand coming up and resting under her chin, tilting it up so she was staring at him. “Like I said, don’t be embarrassed, what you did, that’s nothing, I’ve seen way worse things and I’ve dealt with far nastier and embarrassing things.” Offering her some sort of comfort with his words, Joe smiled as his thumb traced along her jawline. “Now go clean up and I’ll take you home after we eat.”

[reesesxpieces]

Task #1

THE BASICS:

What is your character’s full name?: 

Theresa Renee Raven

The name “Theresa” is a feminine named used by the English, German, Swedish, Norwegian, and Danish.History: From the Spanish and Portuguese name Teresa. It was first recorded as Therasia, being borne by the Spanish wife of Saint Paulinus of Nola in the 4th century. The meaning is uncertain, but it could be derived from Greek θερος (theros) “summer”, from Greek θεριζω (therizo) “to harvest”, or from the name of the Greek island of Therasia (the western island of Santorini).The name was mainly confined to Spain and Portugal during the Middle Ages. After the 16th century it was spread to other parts of the Christian world, due to the fame of the Spanish nun and reformer Saint Teresa of Ávila. Another famous bearer was the Austrian Habsburg queen Maria Theresa (1717-1780), who inherited the domains of her father, the Holy Roman Emperor Charles VI, beginning the War of the Austrian Succession. {source: http://www.behindthename.com/name/theresa } 

Does your characters have any nicknames?: 

Reese

Theresa is often called “Reese” which she does not mind, and actually prefers. 

What is the title or label you can describe your character with?: 

A mixture of:

The Caregiver

The Creator

The Jester

{Source: http://www.soulcraft.co/essays/the_12_common_archetypes.html }

Age:

30

Birth date:

August 9, 1986

Nationality: 

Theresa is not a London Native.

She was born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, USA.

Origin: 

Theresa’s father was born in Houston, Texas, USA. His nationality is German.

Theresa’s mother was born in New Orleans, Louisiana, USA. She’s a mix of:  English, Irish, Italian, and a hint of Cherokee Indian. 

Gender: 

Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexual Orientation:

Heterosexual

Relationship Status:

In a relationship with Charles “Chip” Holmes as of May 2017.

Religion: 

Christian (Non denominational) Her father was Methodist, and her mother Catholic, but neither of them forced religion in the household. Growing up, Reese was encouraged to go to church and find God. She went to a non-denominational church, and considers herself to be a Christian, though she doesn’t believe that you have to be a church-goer to be close to God.

Occupation:  

Owner/Operator of Behind the Mask Community Theatre

This was nor her first choice. 

She knew she had always wanted a career in performing arts, but needed something to fall back on, so she double majored and completed degrees in both Theater Arts and Business.

In the states, she was an Administrative Professional, and would often get told that she was downsizing her talents and should look into bigger and better things than sitting behind a desk day in and day out at a job she wasn’t too thrilled about. After a lot of soul searching and a family trip to London, she fell upon a run down building that was up for sale, and instantly had a vision for what she wanted to turn it into. Throwing every ounce of faith she had into it, she created the theatre, dedicated it to her father whom encouraged her to perform in order to find her own voice, and hopes that it can be a safe haven for the community to express themselves through the performing arts.

PHYSICAL TRAITS:

Eye color:

Blue

Hair color:

Reese is a natural brunette, but from time to time, she’ll go to the salon and get highlights in her hair, or have it professionally lightened.

Height:

5 ft 2 in or 157 cm 

Body build: 

Slender

Notable physical traits:

Less than average women’s height

Left-handed

Skin color:

Depends on the time of year. 

Summer/Spring: Tanned

Fall/Winter: Pale

Facial Hair:

Blood type:

O

Clothing size: 

Small

Shoe size: 

Seven

HEALTH AND IMAGE:

Diet: 

Theresa will just about eat anything you put in front of her, and it’s very rare that she turns down an offer for food.

Fitness: 

Theresa tries to work out as much as she can. 

Currently she is on a plan where she does strength training Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and cardio on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

She loves lifting weights and using weight machines, but despises traditional cardio and will often use the term “cardio is hardio.”

Handicaps: 

No known handicaps

Allergies:

Seasonal

Pollen

Dust

Illnesses: 

No known illnesses

Disorders: 

No known disorders/addictions

Broken bones: 

Broke her wrist in three places when she was nine years old as a result of falling off of her bike when her brakes gave out. 

Broke her pinky finger on her right hand after falling off a raft while water tubing.

Piercings:

Ears

Tattoos:

None. But she has thought about getting some.

Scars:

No major scars. She is accident prone though so she may get small scars from time to time, that will heal quickly and disappear.

Favorite Perfume / Cologne: 

She doesn’t have a favorite perfume or cologne, but she does wash her hair with strawberry scented shampoo and conditioner, and along with applying deodorant, she also sprays her body with vanilla body spray after her showers 

CHARACTER:

Skills: 

Theresa is somewhat a jack of all trades as far as skills goes. She loves to learn new things and still strives to learn something new to this day. Throughout life she has learned the following:

Singing

Dancing

Piano

Drums

Acting/Drama/Musical Theater

Web Design/Coding

Body flexibility

Just to name a few!

Quirks: 

Affectionate

Tries to find the silver lining in every situation.

Tries to save the world and give advice for all of her friend’s problems.

Speaks in lyrics

Uses sarcastic humor any chance she can get - especially in awkward situations

Bounces her leg when she’s nervous and sitting.

Rambles and doesn’t have much of a filter when she speaks

Not afraid to use foul language.

Yelling at inanimate objects

Hates when people whistle in an otherwise quiet room

Turns on closed captioning/subtitles when watching television/movies

Typing aggressively when she’s pissed off, even though the offender can’t see it. 

Not knowing what to do while people sing “Happy Birthday” to her.

Not being able to sleep without the tv or radio on. 

Hobbies:

Researching

Learning

Writing

Singing

Dancing

Listening to music

Watching TV/Movies

Painting

Web Design

Photography

Scrapbooking

Eating

Shopping

Traveling

Being sarcastic

Habits:

Overthinking/Over-analyzing

Speaking in lyrics

Sarcasm

Swearing

Always wanting to be there for those she loves most whether they are family, friends, or friends who have turned family

Daydreams

Guilty pleasures: 

Country Music

Sleeping in the nude

Taking long showers/soaks in the bath

Reality TV

Sleeping In

Dancing/Singing like no one is watching

McDonald’s McNuggets and McRibs

KFC Gravy

Pet peeves: 

Unnecessary rudeness

People with an inflated sense of their own importance.

When someone comes into a room, but forgets to shut the door

When someone comes into a room, turns on a light, then leaves without turning it off

Whistling

Loud chewing

Late people (unless they have a valid reason)

When others don’t cover their nose/mouth when they sneeze/cough

When people walk too slowly or just suddenly stop in front of her

When people drive too slowly

When people don’t use their turn signals when driving

When people don’t say “thank you”

Being interrupted or talked over when speaking

When someone goes to tell her something then says “Never mind”

When Taco Bell drive-thru asks if she wants any sauce, she confirms that she does, but winds up getting no sauce.

MISCELLANEOUS (SHOULD BE WRITTEN IN CHARACTER):

Favorite genre of music:

This is such a tough question to answer, because I will literally listen to anything. I have favorite country songs, rap songs, even horror-core songs. But if I had to pick a specific genre, it’d probably be a toss up between Rock or what is known as “emo”. OH! and show tunes! Can’t forget about those!

Favorite dish:

Again this is a tough one, because I love food so much. But if I had to choose one thing to eat for the rest of my life, I’d probably go with pizza since I can change up the different types of pizza and have a variety.

Favorite animal:

Seahorses and Sea turtles

A superpower your character wants to have:

Shape-shifting

If they made a movie about your character’s life, what would the title be?:

“How is a Raven like a Writing Desk?” 

Food or sex:

Why not both?

Their life’s theme song:

Childhood: Frankie J - “Daddy’s Little Girl”

Overall: Faith Hill - “Wild One” 

Favorite day of the week and why?:

Saturday, because it’s the motha-fuckin’ weekend, gonna have me some fun!

What came first, the chicken or the egg?:

The chicken…because of Noah’s arc, who laid more eggs, to give us more chickens? 

Do you prefer hot or cold weather and why?:

Hot. I hate when the air hurts my face.  

Describe your first crush:

He was a shy, dorky theater geek, like me who had a voice that everyone envied. He was taller than me (who isn’t), and had dark hair, blue eyes, and thick Drew Carey like glasses. He would often be cast as the star in all of our high-school productions. Although he had many talents, he was the nicest guy you could ever encounter. It helped that I had a crush on him when we were in productions together, because the chemistry didn’t need to be faked out, but nothing became of that crush because my dad told me that I couldn’t date until “after I was married.” His name was William.

Your house is on fire. What are the first three things you grab?:

Phone, purse, and military flag from my father’s death