#jamesxthatch

continued from here. . .

The ominous gray sky roared above James as he stomped out onto the deck of Anubis, boots sloshing against the soaked wood. His eyes scanned what he could see of the harbor, making sure his handiwork to secure everything had worked. Storms always had been a pain in the ass, even if he didn’t mind the spray of water against his face now. Rose stood on the other end of the ship, leaning against the railing, as drenched as he was. He continued to walk to where she waited, eyes finally meeting hers. In that moment, he knew she remembered the last time they were caught in a storm together.

The wind blew so strong that day that it gave his sails a hell of a time, the rain hitting them sideways as they tried to run, to fight the foolish souls who dared board his ship with ill intent. Blood poured just as hard, mixing with the water as they both splashed against the wood. They’d won the fight, of course, dead and mangled bodies littering the ship when they finished with the invaders. They tossed the dead bodies into the raging sea and let the rain do the rest.

By the time he sidled up to Rose, hands grasping the railing as he looked out ahead of them, he took a deep breath. There were no fights to be had today, no enemies to take care of. There was just the sound of thunder, the flash of lightning, and a sleepy town that didn’t know of all they’d done. “There’s always a storm to brave, isn’t there?” He looked down a moment, lost in thought, before turning back to her with an almost unreadable expression. “Come on,” he said quietly, slowly backing away from the rails and toward his quarters once more as his mind came back to the present. “There’s towels and a bottle of brandy waiting inside.”

      The sound of James’ boots stamping on the deck brought Rose out of her reverie, while the rain and wind had only served to send her back into the past. She did not recall the same memory that the other vampire did, but one a bit more peaceful ---the wind didn’t whip against her cheeks, and no waves crashed onto the deck about them. Instead, her memory was home to a fine mist of the early morning, just as the sun was beginning to rise. At the time, it had made her think of her old home in France where she had loved and lost as much as anyone could, in only a few years. Now, the rain only served to remind her of things long passed, and of the memory of memories... things that happened so long ago she could hardly recall how they made her feel, let alone feel it all over again. 

      She looked to James after he spoke up, her expression just as unreadable as his. There was no pressure to be one thing or another, around the man ---she could feel nothing, and not be judged, or she could feel everything all at once and choose not to talk about it. It didn’t matter. The two of them had done horrible things, together and all on their own, and she felt little sorrow or regret for any of it. She guessed that he didn’t, either, and that made them kindred in a way she didn’t think many others would understand. 

I can think of a few I’d like to see.

How about new neighbors @ameliawalshh and @hollychevalier  

Or new roomies @reid-brooklyn and @billielawson

How about @gemmaxbarton and @charlotte-gilmore

@wyattleblanc and @elena-greyson

@violetbecker and @delilahreyes

@jamesxthatch and @nik-heimirsson

I am all about the brotps and if you can surprise me even better. 

The Princess: For our resident princess, I’m torn between two. @hxirofgold or @marahastings. One has the name, but the other wears the crown. Literally. Mara actually won herself a tiara. Should we bow down already or what?

The Brain: I would say @catherine-carmikael or @natehastings seeing that one is a professor and the other is our town’s resident know it all, but taking into consideration Brian’s sweet disposition, I’m going to have to give this one to @acemerritt. She has substantial knowledge of books, a heart of gold, and the insecurities of someone you might have tried to cheat off of back in the day.

The Athlete: There are many people in town who I think fit this trope to a T. Our resident sheriff for one thing, @coltondeforest, or any other cop or firefighter, which brings me to my lovely pick, @matt-andrews. He runs into burning buildings for a living and I bet he’d be  able to throw me around a bit.

The Basket Case: From @amybuckman, to @bitemexchuck with her mood swings, to @savvydaniels, and to even @calliehastings and @itsalextraynor with their coping mechanisms, this category is hard to narrow down to one, but for now, I’m going to go with @michaelawayland. The brunette is certainly a hot mess. Emphasis on the hot.

The Criminal: How many thieves do we have in this town? @calebxhunter? @allycatbishop? @avaxbishop? @lukasblackwells? But I’m going to have to go with @jamesxthatch for this one. He won’t only steal your heart, but any art he can get his hands on, and maybe even your booty.

@lolalcortez & @jettdanvers

@r-iadesai & @jacobthorne

@reynawhitmore & @zanehartman

@jamesxthatch & @daralisgreyson

send 📷 for a post of your muse on my muse’s instagram

send me a 🍻+ the question you want to ask my muse for a tipsy, drunken ( honest ) answer.

      What a question. She didn’t quite know how to answer, because of course, there were a few things —but the things that really mattered, she tried not to let herself regret. She tried not to let herself think about them at all, really, but that was a harder feat than the former. After a long, drawn out pause, she said, “Yes,” and then finished the rest of her drink. 

      It wasn’t something she liked to talk about, but she supposed James would be a decent choice, out of anyone, to confide in. Though not necessarily their usual kind of conversation, he had asked, and she had promised honesty. Her mind raced backwards through the centuries until she came to the night she had killed her brother —this, she decided, was not something she was going to talk about. Instead, she chose something more recent. Something a little fresher, but still easier for her to come to terms with than that horrible night.