Moved!

Independent OC Selective Written by Steph

[xramblinman-archive]

This blog is now archived!

I have moved! Find me over here from now on. All threads are being kept.

[xramblinman-archive]

This blog is now archived!

I have moved! Find me over here from now on. All threads are being kept.

[xramblinman-archive]

This blog is now archived!

I have moved! Find me over here from now on. All threads are being kept.

[xramblinman-archive]

This blog is now archived!

I have moved! Find me over here from now on. All threads are being kept.

[theseourbodiesrp]

“Hi, honeybear.” Aaron came out of the bedroom; he’d been watching Netflix and waiting for his lover to return. Silk pajama pants clung to slim hips, and he smiled to see the other already rummaging in the fridge. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, always insisting that he was allergic. He leaned on a wall, just watching the other.

“Did you get it? Do you want to eat, because I could whip something up. More importantly,” he said, moving to the other and putting his hands on Aaron, “you haven’t kissed me yet and I’m wondering why.”

[xramblinman-archive]

Here’s the thing about Aaron Masterson: he was too pretty for his own good. Telling him so would be an undoubtable stroke to his ego, but for fuck’s sake -- it was like he was photoshopped.

With a smirk, Aaron set his beer down and turned to face him. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” He tugged the other close by his hips and kissed him, leaving his hands there even after he pulled away. “Better, babycakes?”

[aufer-filiae-deactivated2016122]

“Genius plan? What’s so genius about sitting down at a girls table and stealing her fries?”  Rolling her eyes, which she seemed to be doing more around him than she’d done in her whole life, Ren leaned back in her chair.  “You can have any girl in the school so why go after the only one who thinks you’re a jerk?”

[xramblinman-archive]

Aaron shrugged a shoulder. He didn’t take the insult personally -- if she thought he was so much of a jerk, she wouldn’t have agreed to the second date. “I like you,” he answered simply. “You’re cool.”

[xramblinman-archive]

@realgoodtrouble

          Tempting. It wasn’t as if she could wrestle him out of the woman’s grave… then again. The matter was more of a “would” rather than “could” despite her inner ( and annoyingly obstinate ) monologue that urged her to toss herself into the grave. Jo relented, but as always, with difficulty. She squinted down at him, though her harsh skepticism faded to confusion. ❝ Yeah, and I heard the sky was fallin’– wait. You’re gettin’ paid for this crap?  ❞

“Yeah. I know you’re new to all this but, uh, hunting doesn’t pay so well.” Aaron continued to dig as he spoke. If they were gonna stand there making witty banter, he might as well get some work done. “Private investigation, now there’s where the money’s at.”

[xramblinman-archive]

I did all my drafts so like this for a starter?

[misshoodoolady-archive-deactiva]

Take care of the dog. They’d come up with that code phrase months ago, to be used in case of emergency, when either one of them were in danger, but were unable to say how or why. And, in that moment, Pasha felt everything inside her go still, gaze latching into his. Things were starting to make sense. Well, a little more sense. Aaron’s behavior, the sudden breakup, his sudden desire to want to talk. He was in danger. Why hadn’t she seen it before? 

“If you’re so concerned about him, you’ll come see him yourself.” She had to remind herself to stay angry, to pretend she hated him—in case he was being watched. “You know where we live.” Grabbing her cart, she stormed away before he could say another word, mind racing, coming up with plans and theories.

That night, she paced her apartment, waiting, hoping he would come. A sense of despair and panic ate away at her until a sharp knock at the door nearly made her jump out of her skin.

[xramblinman-archive]

The brief moment of relief was almost immediately replaced by his own panic. Witches were crafty, resourceful. Trying to sneak out from under one’s nose was going to be tricky -- and he could’ve just put Pasha in more danger. The whole thing he’d tried to avoid in the first place.

Julia had been asleep when he left. Aaron had gone to a few other places first, hoping to confuse a tracking spell if only for a few minutes, before he appeared in front of Pasha’s door. And when she opened it, he felt that relief come back.

“Hey,” he said unceremoniously. “Can I come in?”

[misshoodoolady-archive-deactiva]

Pasha & Aaron || Teen AU

[misshoodoolady-archive-deactiva]

Well, that meant no. “Y’know it’s due at the end of class…” As it always was. But maybe he didn’t know that, considering he very rarely showed up.

Under normal circumstances, she would’ve left Aaron to his own devices and let him fail; all that meant was that there was one less person she needed to compete with for top grades. But their conversation had made her see him in a new light. And maybe, just maybe, she wanted to offer him some kind of an olive branch. Setting her pen down, Pasha clocked the location of Mrs. Tillett and what the rest of the class was doing before turning back to Aaron. “Here, I’ll help you.”

[xramblinman-archive]

Honestly, Aaron didn’t mind the idea of actually doing the work as much as he should’ve. If it meant talking to Pasha more, he’d do it. She was smart. She didn’t seem to completely hate his company, and wasn’t looking at him like he was a degenerate. So sue him, he liked her.

By the end of the class, he actually had the assignment done with time to spare. Mrs. Tillett didn’t hide the shock on her face very well. For a few days, he actually began to show up to her class and do the in-class assignments, now that he had an excuse to be there, but the weekend was still a welcome relief from being responsible.

Olivia Braxton’s Halloween party was on Saturday, one of the biggest of the year, but Aaron found himself enjoying the crisp October air rather than the cramped house. He felt good; not quite drunk, not quite sober. There were three other people outside when Aaron got there: two quietly talking in the corner of the balcony, and one girl leaning against the railing. With a grin, Aaron took up the space beside Pasha. “Hey. Long time, no see.”

[singersonlydaughter]

“You’re lack of regard for being subtle. The whole point is  we are trying to maintain a low profile.”

[xramblinman-archive]

“Had to get rid of the vampire body somehow, right? If the nest finds out I killed him, we’re screwed.”

[theseourbodiesrp]

She watched him move, all contained grace and surety. She saw the flash but couldn’t wait to see if the demon was really dead; instead, she lunged for her target; they had a job to do.

She had none of Aaron’s grace or stealth. What she had was a dagger made of an old angel blade, and she pulled it. as she scrambled to her feet after knocking the demon down. It was a split second quicker, getting the jump. But just barely: she threw her weight up as it grabbed her, bringing the blade to bear as they both toppled to the floor and using gravity to help her drive the blade him. Light flashed around the wound, and the demon’s eyes flashed with grace. She heard a demonic scream, and then silence. 

THe adrenaline wasn’t even done fully flooding her blood stream, and the fight was over. It was a good plan after all.

“Did you ever take dance lessons? Because you move like a dancer.” It was a question that had occurred to her a while ago had never asked because it sounded dumb. She only asked it now because her mouth, her body, her nerves, everything, was running on adrenaline and the high of a win.

[xramblinman-archive]

There were two signs of life in the house, other than theirs. Aaron let a tendril of Grace seep from his fingers as Claire finished off the other demon. Their heartbeats were faint, and there was no sign of the murky black soul of a demon.

He gave one short laugh, wired up from the adrenaline pulsing in his veins. Of all the ways hunters have described his style, like a dancer was one he’d never heard before. “Thanks. I think you’re the first person to ever tell me that.”

Aaron waved her over to the basement door. “C’mon, they’re down here.”

[misshoodoolady-archive-deactiva]

Pasha froze for a split second, eyes drifting from her neighbor to the baby in his arms. The baby’s watery blue eyes had, at some point, leveled onto her in curiosity as she softly hiccuped in her father’s arms. For the first time in what seemed like centuries, there was quiet.

It was strange how unexpected silence seemed to echo, almost unnerving in its suddenness. 

“I, uh—” This was not how she’d expected this encounter to go. At. All. “Sure,” she said finally, frantically trying to remember how to hold a baby even as she reached for her. “What’s her name? And yours?”

[xramblinman-archive]

As he prepared to hand Jane over, he realized he’d all but forgotten to introduce them. “Right, uh -- I’m Aaron. This is Jane.” He grinned, unable to help the tenderness that snuck into his voice when he introduced his daughter, even if she had just tried to deafen him.

Aaron resituated her in his arms and placed her gently in the woman’s, and Jane had no complaints. Her fist came up to her mouth as she gazed at Pasha in wonder. “Do you wanna come in? I can make some coffee.”

[xramblinman-archive]

@yourhumblepsychiatrist​

The best thing about being a private eye was people hammering on your door long after you’d closed.

Aaron groaned and dragged himself out of bed. No point in pretending like he wasn’t there -- he hadn’t been sleeping anyway. Today was his mother’s birthday. The memory of her brought along a number of others, mostly painful, which managed to get under his skin even after all this time.

After pulling on a t-shirt, Aaron took his time getting to the door and wrenched it open. He didn’t even think to check what was on the other side, first. “Sorry, buddy, we’re clo --” and that’s when it hit him. The overwhelming amount of power radiating off the man was all too familiar; angel.

Cautiously, he blocked the doorway and the angel’s line of view into the apartment, clearing his throat. “We’re closed. Come back later.” The words were icy. His fingers curled around the angel blade on the table next to him, prepared to fight if need be.

[stayedgentle]

starter for @xramblinman !!

“I think she’s asleep.”

    Jane mouthed the words rather than actually making a sound, because god, if Luci woke up and started screaming again, she was liable to just leave and never come back. Exhaustion had hit hard already, and they’d only brought their daughter home from the hospital a week ago. And sure, Jane loved Luci. But she had completely underestimated how disgustingly loud a newborn could be, and how often she was going to cry in the night.

Terrified to even breathe wrong, Jane kept swaying on her feet, rocking the baby and looking at her husband for help.

        “How do I put her down without waking her up?”

[xramblinman-archive]

It seemed as though they’d be talking in whispers for the rest of their lives. Jane looked about as exhausted as he felt, and he never knew how much he could cherish a few moments of silence. Aaron glanced from the sleeping baby to the crib and racked his brain for a solution.

“No sudden movements?” he offered as quietly as possible. “Maybe she’ll sleep through it.”

[crossroadcaesar-blog]

He’s on the cusp of desperation–a display of power the likes of which it would take to rattle his invisible cage will no doubt draw Hell’s attention, but right now Malcolm isn’t thinking rationally and the notion that he’s about to be a hunter’s plaything again is enough to make him consider taking his chances.  The first static charge of energy begins to gather like dry lightning at his fingertips…

…only to dissipate just as quickly when much to his shock the hunter reaches down to scratch a line through the outer ring of the trap.  Just like that, he’s free.  Free, and a snap of his fingers away from fleeing this place with the fucking quickness–but something catches his eye.  Something he couldn’t see through the haze of the Devil’s Trap.  Something he can see now with glaring clarity.  

This hunter is not human.  

“I already told ya’ what I know,” Malcolm insists, stepping away from the trap and in the other direction in an effort to put some space between them.  “Start at a crossroads.  Pick one.  They’ll hit it sooner or later…”

[xramblinman-archive]

Sooner or later. Because he had time to sit around at different crossroads and wait. Even Pasha noticed the vehement determination on his face as he endlessly searched the internet and a few of her books for information -- information, but no clear way to catch them.

Like most spirits, the Dybbuk seemed to be attached to an item of significance: a box that had traded hands many times and left a trail of bodies along the way. The box was said to have been resealed by a Rabbi, kept in a secret location -- until now, of course. The synagogue reported it stolen 2 weeks ago.

Pasha’s tracking spell didn’t work. Two days later, Aaron tried to interview one of his soulless victims only to find out he’d keeled over the night before, choked on his own blood. The spirit had gone from devouring souls to devouring bodies with them. So he did what Malcolm suggested; he camped out at one of the crossroads. And, to his annoyance, it didn’t take the bait.

Aaron did manage to track down NOLA’s friendly neighborhood demon. He found Mal inside a local Starbucks, and sat down at his table with no invitation. “I need a favor.”

[xramblinman-archive]