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oreomonsterhunter · 3 years

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“Now get your shoes on, you big idiot”

Pairing: Johnny x reader (or OC)

Word Count: 1259

Genre: fluff

Warnings: language?

Summary: Johnny accidentally confesses his feelings for his best friend

You hadn’t seen Johnny in ages, so when he called you, even though it was almost midnight and you were so ready to go to bed, you answered without a second thought. “Hello handsome,” you grinned, blinking sleepily.

“Oh sh—it’s late, I’m sorry,” Johnny grimaced.

You waved him off. “I missed you,” you said simply.

“Missed you too, dork,” he said, smiling through the screen.

“Ok, so tell me everything, are you eating enough? Sleeping enough? Do I need to come and beat up your manager?”

There was that laugh you’d been missing. “I’m fine, it’s the usual song and dance. You know how it is—just packed schedules these days.”

You frowned at him, “I know, we haven’t met up in weeks. Some bestie you are.”

“Hey, you better not replace me,” Johnny narrowed his eyes.

“If I did, I’d replace you with Mark,” you teased. “Maybe Doyoung. Or do you know BTS? Can you introduce me to Jimin?”

Johnny groaned, “I know I’m not your bias, but you don’t have to rub it in every chance you get.”

“Shut up, everyone’s a Jimin stan, they just refuse to admit it.”

“This is what I get for having friends outside the industry.”

You snorted, “I’m your only friend outside the industry.”

“Are not.”

“Am too.”

Johnny grumbled, resigning himself to changing the subject, rather than engaging in another argument he had no hope of winning. You smirked at your victory.

Thirty minutes later, though, your eyelids were drooping. Johnny noticed right away, nose practically pressed to the screen. “Hey, sleepy, time for bed,” he whispered dramatically.

“Nuh uh,” you shook your head, snuggling back into the pillows.

“Hang up, come on. It’s late, you’re tired, I’m tired. But you can sleep in tomorrow and I can’t.”

You pouted, “No fair, I’m coming to yell at SM.”

Johnny just laughed at you again. “Alright, seriously go to bed.”

“You first.”

He sighed, shaking his head, “You’re so annoying. Hang up and get some sleep.”

“Nope, you first.”

Johnny glared playfully, “No, you.”

You giggled back, “No, you.”

“I love you.”

“No, yo—what?” you blinked. Johnny gaped back at you, face turning redder by the second. His mouth opened and closed, and then he made a face and ended the call. “Goodnight,” he muttered, and then your screen went dark.

You gaped at the screen. He really just hung up on you? After saying...wait, wait, hold up. Had Johnny seriously just said he loved you? Was that a confession? A shitty confession, you deserved better. Was it an accident? Oh my gosh, what if he never meant to say that, had you imagined it? No, he was way too nervous for that—

You shook your head, ignoring the thoughts spiraling in your tired brain. How could you sleep now? Only one thing to do—go to the source.

That’s how you found yourself at Johnny’s door sometime after one in the morning, wearing mismatched socks and sweats with holes in the ankles, and your shoe half falling off. You smashed the doorbell again, sure that Johnny must be awake, he was just ignoring you like all the texts you’d sent on the way over. He had his read receipts on, for goodness sake. You could tell he was ignoring you, that big lug.

Finally, the door cracked open. You opened your mouth to yell at him, but the look on his face stopped you. And you knew.

Everything you wanted to say dissolved, and you couldn’t do anything but smile at him. Those damn butterflies were back, you felt like you’d float away. “Wanna go on a walk?”

That got Johnny to open the door. He whipped it open, glaring at you, totally different from the unsure expression a few seconds ago. “Are you crazy? It’s late, go home, okay? Actually no, it’s late, you shouldn’t walk on your own. You can sleep on the couch. Heck, I’ll take the couch and you can take the bed.”

Your smile only grew, watching him ramble the way your brain hadn’t stopped rambling since he hung up on you. And you felt your thoughts drift into silence. “I love you, too. Now get your shoes on, you big idiot.”

For a moment, neither one of you moved, and you wondered if you broke him. Furrowing your brow, you opened your mouth to ask him, but that’s when he moved. Large hands cupped your jaw the way you’d been dreaming about, and his nose brushed yours oh so gently, and then your lips met.

And Johnny proceeded to, for lack of a better phrase, kiss the snot out of you.

Your knees wobbled, and Johnny walked you backwards without breaking the kiss, backing you up against the wall. You gasped, trapped between the brick and the solid mass of Johnny in front of you. Johnny pressed his advantage, diving deeper into the kiss. He tasted like toothpaste, you noted distantly, too distracted by the feel of those lips.

He was only wearing a t-shirt outside, and the heat of him threatened to burn you, yet you couldn’t keep away. You fisted the thin material, fingers brushing up against rippling muscle beneath, and pushed impossibly closer to him. What you would give to just melt into him. Johnny groaned softly, rocking forward and biting your lower lip. His thumb brushed over your cheekbone, softer than you thought possible.

Then Johnny tensed, pulling away from you. “I’m sorry, wait a second. I should have asked,” he started to ramble again.

You shook your head at him, sweet boy. Mama Suh had raised him well, but he was still dumb sometimes. That’s why you loved him so much.

You didn’t bother trying to explain; you simply twined your arms around his neck and yanked his lips back to yours. This time, it was your turn to nip at him, insistent that he resume that steamy kiss immediately.

Finally, who knows how many minutes or seconds or years later, you broke apart to breathe. Johnny pressed his forehead into yours, and you grinned, feeling a bit drunk. On the lack of sleep or his kisses? Gosh, you’d just kissed Johnny, your best friend. And you realized you’d happily kiss him forever. How had you waited this long? Or rather, why had you waited? Apparently you’d been missing out on Mr. Pillow Lips for years.

As your breathing calmed, you opened your eyes, looking up to meet Johnny’s gaze. He blinked at you, and your smile bloomed. “Should we go on that walk now?” you asked, surprised to hear that your voice was a bit hoarse.

Johnny smiled at you, leaning back to look at you properly. “You and I both need to sleep more. I promise we’ll go on a walk another time.”

“Just sleep?” you asked innocently, fluttering your lashes at him.

“Just sleep, you menace,” he laughed, slinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you inside his apartment. Your grin widened, thrilled that your best friend hadn’t gone anywhere. You should have known better than to think that Johnny would let things get awkward.

You hummed thoughtfully as he led you through the apartment. “I could exchange a walk for more kisses, I suppose,” you said, biting your lip.

“I just bet you could, princess,” Johnny smirked. He let you go to flop on the bed. When you stood in the doorway, a bit unsure, he propped himself up on his elbows, a twinkle in his eyes. “But you’ll have to come and get them.”

* * * * *

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inkwell1013 · 3 years

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Paint the Streets With Rainbows - Good Omens

Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley, Aziraphale & OC, Crowley & OC

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Oneshot

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Homophobia, disownment

Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale accidentally end up at a pride parade after a rather nice dinner date, and meet a cheerful boy named Jordan. A week later, something terrible happens, and they step in to help out their new acquaintance.

- - - - -

Crowley and Aziraphale had chanced upon the parade quite by accident, taking a wrong turn on the way back to Aziraphale’s bookshop after spending the morning at a nearby café. Aziraphale would have assumed it was a mere coincidence, but his more fanciful belief in fate and the divine plan belayed this assumption. The way Aziraphale saw it, nothing happened without reason. Them arriving there when they did was fate, nothing more and nothing less.

There were rainbows everywhere. That was the first thing Aziraphale noticed. There were so many rainbows: hung from trees, worn on t-shirts, draped over shoulders like capes, waved from flagpoles, and even fashioned from balloons. He noticed that there were other flags too mixed in with all the rainbows, like flowers growing in a garden, all bright and beautiful and unique.

He wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but he assumed it was good as everyone seemed delightfully happy. And there were so many people, more than he could possibly count. He had never seen such an impossibly huge crowd before.

Glancing toward Crowley, he saw a content smile playing across his partner’s lips. “What is this?” asked Aziraphale, gesturing towards the raucous procession.

“It’s a pride parade. Have you never seen one before?”

“No, I haven’t.”

Crowley chuckled. “Wow. You don’t get out much, do you?”

Aziraphale huffed - secretly a little grumpy – mostly because he knew it was true. His significant aversion to socializing meant that he spent most of his time alone when he wasn’t with Crowley. Some might call that lifestyle sad, but Aziraphale preferred his quiet life to the alternative.

“Basically,” continued Crowley. “A pride parade is a celebration of the many differences of humanity – from sexual orientation to gender – as well as a way to protest inequality.”

“Well, that’s rather nifty, isn’t it?” said Aziraphale, adjusting his bowtie.

Crowley stifled a laugh. “I suppose it is.”

“Rather a lot of rainbows, don’t you think?” quirked Aziraphale. “I always liked rainbows. They’re a symbol of hope, and it never hurts to have a little hope these days.”

“I agree.”

It was at that moment that a boy pattered up to them. He was young – perhaps sixteen by Aziraphale’s best estimate, though he had never been good at guessing ages – and was tall for his age. He reminded Aziraphale rather a lot of a golden retriever, with his long, floppy blond hair and cheerful smile, which he leveled at them both, joy painted clearly on his features.

“Are you too here for the parade?” he beamed, cocking his head.

Crowley smiled back at him. “We are. Why do you ask?”

“That’s so cool!” exclaimed the boy. “I saw you and your boyfriend—”

“Husband,” interjected Crowley.

“Sorry, husband. And I just got super excited. You guys seem so happy together, and its nice, you know? Knowing its possible. That there’s a future for me, I guess. You know, you see all the sad stuff in the news, and it gets to you. It feels like there’s no hope left, but there’s always hope. I’m probably rambling. I’m sorry for bothering you two.” The boy turned to leave, but Crowley stopped him.

“Wait. Are you here with your parents?” he asked. “We could help you find them.”

“My Dad doesn’t know I’m here,” mumbled the boy. “He isn’t exactly cool with all this stuff, and I’m too scared to tell him. And my Mum… Well, she’s in heaven now.”

Crowley frowned rather instinctually, and the kid immediately backtracked. “It’s fine though. He’s not so bad. It could be worse.”

In a spur of the moment decision, Aziraphale pulled a newly miracled business card that hadn’t existed seconds ago from his jacket pocket and pushed it into the boy’s hands.

“What your name?” asked Aziraphale.

The boy gave him a quizzical look. “Jordan. Jordan Stewart.”

“It’s been nice to meet you Jordan,” beamed Aziraphale. “If you ever need help, call the number on this card.”

“Okay.”

“Good lad,” said Crowley. “Now go have fun. You’re at a pride parade after all.”

Jordan smiled, tucking the business card into his jacket pocket before sprinting away, throwing his arms around a boy with dark, curly hair. The boy stumbled back, only just catching his balance before he tumbled over.

“Ash! You made it,” exclaimed Jordan.

Ash laughed. “You thought I was going to miss your first pride? I’m not that bad of a friend,” he smirked. “Seriously though, how did you get away? I thought your dad was giving you trouble.”

Jordan shrugged. “I told him I was hanging out with some friends at the park.”

“And he bought that?”

“Yeah. I’m surprised too, to be honest. If he asks, tell him we were hanging out at the park with the others.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve got it.”

Crowley and Aziraphale watched the boy leave with his friend, firmly believing that would be their last encounter. They were both equally surprised when they received a phone call from Jordan just one week later.

Aziraphale was doing a little late-night reading before bed, and Crowley had wrapped himself around his husband, rather like he was trying to constrict him. Neither of them expected the phone to ring.

Crowley had whined and grumbled but Aziraphale insisted on fetching the phone just in case it was something important – a call from a supplier or customer, perhaps.

Aziraphale answered the call and Crowley buried his face in his pillow, still grumpy that Aziraphale had pushed him off. He immediately shot up when he heard Jordan’s voice on the other end.

“I didn’t think you’d pick up,” mumbled the boy. His voice was cracking and coarse, and Crowley knew that he had been crying. “I’m really sorry to bother you so late. I just didn’t know who else to call.”

“Is everything okay?” asked Aziraphale. “You sound upset.”

“My father found out about everything, and he kicked me out. He said that he’d rather have no son than… than me. I can’t believe this happened,” choked out Jordan. “I never did anything wrong.”

Aziraphale cast a helpless look at Crowley who hastily took the phone from him. “Jordan, can you tell me where you are?” asked Crowley.

“The McDonald’s on Main Street. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“That’s okay,” said Crowley, scrambling out of bed and throwing on the first pair of trousers he could find, an effort that was made difficult by the fact that he only had one free hand to do it. “Stay right there. We’ll pick you up.”

“Thank you.”

Crowley’s trusty Bentley got them there quickly, and Aziraphale suspected that Crowley used some of his demonic influence to turn all the traffic lights on the way there green. He wasn’t complaining though. Anything that got them there faster was worth it, regardless of the possible consequences.

Jordan slipped silently into the car, eyes still puffy and red from crying. There was a short silence, before Jordan spoke. “Why doesn’t he love me?” he asked. “What did I do wrong?”

“This wasn’t your fault kid,” said Crowley. “It was never your fault. Some people are just trapped in the past. I understand how you feel. I do. Being disowned by the people who are meant to love you is shitty. It was shitty when it happened to me, and it’s still shitty now. There will always be shitty people in the world, but they’re becoming less common these days.”

“I agree,” said Aziraphale. “Barring the excessive swearing. Let’s try and limit the swear words in front of the young one, shall we dear?”

There was just the barest hint of a smile showing on Jordan’s face, and Aziraphale smiled a little to himself in turn.

“Do you have somewhere to stay?” asked Aziraphale.

Jordan shuffled in his seat. “Not really. Ash always said I could stay with him if something happened, but his parents are super strict, so I dunno if they’d be too pleased about that. I wouldn’t want to make things hard for him.”

“You can crash with us if you’d like,” said Crowley. “We have a spare room, don’t we Angel?” Crowley cast Aziraphale an expectant look, almost asking – begging – for permission.

Aziraphale hastily conjured an extra room in his bookshop, complete with fresh sheets and a newly vacuumed carpet, before nodding in agreement. They did now.

“Are you sure I won’t be an imposition?” asked Jordan.

“We’re certain,” said Aziraphale.

“Thank you, it means a lot.”

“It’s really no bother at all.”

They arrived at Aziraphale’s bookshop a little while later and Crowley and Aziraphale lead Jordan to the spare room. The moment he walked into the room, Jordan crumpled, tears streaming down his face.

“Are you alright?” asked Aziraphale. “Do you not like it?”

“No. Its perfect,” whispered Jordan, blinking through tears as he looked around his surroundings. The room was small but neat, with a single bed on one corner, adorned with bright blue sheets. There was a wardrobe in the other corner and a small bedside table as well.

But the thing that Jordan couldn’t stop staring at was the rainbow flag hung up on the wall.

He was safe here. For the first time in years, he knew he was safe.

#good omens fanfiction #pride month #inkwell writes #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #good omens fluff #Good Omens angst #original character

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almostkoo · 4 years

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Reset Character | Kim Taehyung

pairings: kim taehyung x oc

summary: oc gets dared by friends to spend the night in a supposedly “haunted” mansion that used to belong to a upcoming actor in the 70’s, kim taehyung, oc comes face to face with the spector himself and has questions about the broken veil

word count: 2.9k

warnings: unedited language, mentions of death, taehyung is a very angry ghost at first

author’s notes: last story of spooktober !! omg i can’t believe i did this and finished it !! i’ve gotten some nice feedback over the course of whipping up these stories and it’s makes me truly happy that people are enjoying them :) as always i hope you enjoy this one too !!

link to my main masterlist

The darkness of nighttime made the mansion look huge and intimidating in front of you, Jimin and Seokjin. Losing a drunken bet placed you in the circumstances you were currently in, standing in the walkway to the door of the long abandoned mansion.

“Okay fuck it. If I can’t get the dart on the target. I’ll spend a night in the Kim mansion” you had slurred, arm thrown over Jimin’s shoulder as he had looked at you laughing and struggling to hold his composure. “if you guys make it I’ll spend the night but if I don’t I’ll go. Yeah?”

“You’ll go? If you don’t make it?” Seokjin slurred, just as hammered as you were. Jimin, being the only one who’s head was clear and on his shoulders.

You nodded. Standing back and lining yourself up with the dartboard. You had three darts, three chances to hit the target on the nose. Staring hard at the board, one target turned into four that seemed to be moving around. You threw the first one, hitting the far end of the board. You threw the second one, hitting closer to the target. The last one didn’t even hit the board; it actually almost punctured the toe of Seokjin’s Nikes.

“Fuck it. I don’t care, it's just one night. How bad can it be?” you laughed.

Bad. Very bad. Very fucking bad. The liquid courage that those uncountable shots of vodka gave you had you out of your fucking mind to place a bet like that. Now here you were, superstitious as hell and very frightened to get close to the mansion.

The Kim mansion or known to some people as 0613 Morado Dr. had once belonged to a South Korean film star in the 70s named Kim Taehyung. A young handsome actor who started making his big break starring in a few indies and huge blockbusters before his untimely death in 1976. The medical examiner said it was an accidental overdose of pain medicine he had been prescribed a year prior for an injury on set. But a conspiracy theory quickly arose that it was one of his close friends that poisoned him due to jealousy. Rumor has it that his ghost treads the property scaring away anyone who dare enter.

“Are you ready Y/n?” Seokjin asked, wringing your shoulders.

“No and I wish I hadn’t said I was going to do this. I’m never drinking again. I swear to the heavens.” you said, shaking your head. You could feel the bile rise up your throat threatening to spill out all over the dead lawn.

“Well. Anywho, here’s your tote” Jimin handed you a canvas bag, stocked to the brim full of different things. “you have your sleeping bag, portable charger, charger cord, salt, holy water, lighter, sage. You know .. the necessities.”

“We’ll be out in the car camping out in case anything happens-“

“In case anything happens? What would happen? Why would anything happen? Why would you say that?” you rambled quickly, Jimin’s small hand clasped over your mouth stopping you from going any further.

“No rambling. None of that right now. The quicker you get in there and fall asleep the quicker this all will be over! Speaking of, there’s some melatonin in there if you need it. We gotta blast. This big ass house is giving me the heebiejeebies.” Seokjin patted your tote and him and Jimin ran back to Seokjin’s car parked across the street. You looked at the house in front of you. Patting your pockets to make sure your phone was there, taking a deep breath you started up the walkway to the front door.

You pushed the door open, the flashlight Jimin placed in your tote illuminating the way. You stepped around the mansion and it was big. Tall walls with brown wooden panels and slanted ceilings. Old plants in their pots that had since died long ago, old furniture, laid astray stained and in ruins. The shag carpet in the same state. You could see the beauty that this place had once ago. You continued moving forward through the house going up on the steps on the landing to set yourself up for where you’d be sleeping for the night.

The mansion was chilly, that was for sure. For it to be California in Autumn was one thing for you to be sitting in a “haunted” mansion of a deceased celebrity was another thing. Your nerves were on edge. You had called everyone you could think of starting with Seokjin and Jimin separately. There were only so many people you could call this late at night who would actually pick up the phone and answer. Out of the friends you called the only ones that answered besides Seokjin & Jimin, were Dahyun, Yeosang and Changkyun and that wasn’t even half of them. You dug through the tote looking for the melatonin, before finding it and taking it dry.

Even in the darkness your eyes kept moving around darting around, the feeling like you were being watched accompanied you like an unwanted friend. You leaned back against the wall closing your eyes and letting the melatonin do its job.

Slam! You jumped awake with a gasp, heart beating out of your chest. Reaching around for anything on the floor besides you, finding your phone the time read 3:36 a.m. You fumbled to turn the flashlight on. Your deep breaths were the only noise heard in the house. The old mansion looked the same as it did when you first entered. Scanning around when you saw something in the doorway to the kitchen. You whipped your flashlight around, the figure disappearing further into the kitchen almost as soon as your flashlight came it’s way. Your heart felt like it was deep in a cave beating so fast and sending echos up the walls of your chest. You were terrified.

Resisting your senses telling you not to get up you had to ignore them out of curiosity. Standing up and walking down the steps as slow as possible to not make any noise and alert whatever it was to your current location. You turned your flashlight off, stepping into the kitchen blind. The moonlight that slipped into the windows past the tattered curtain illuminated the kitchen, a soft blue glow almost made you confuse the green tiles of the floor to a different color. If anything was in here it would’ve seen you before your foot could completely make it past the threshold.

Chalking it up as a trick of the eye. Knowing that sometimes melatonin messes with people, you turned away to leave. Why would a film star wanna stay put and haunt people. I’d just go and pass on if I were them. You thought to yourself shaking your head that you were being silly about everything.

“Leave!” a voice whispered in your ear, causing you to scream and run away. Back up the steps instead of out of the house. Now everytime you yell at the characters in horror movies for doing that. It made sense now you couldn’t control your legs, it was like your brain put you in reverse taking you back to the last place you were, nonetheless you still felt stupid for not leaving. Everything you needed was grasped right in your hand, everything on the landing could be replaced.

Yet here you were panting like a dog after a run attempting to call Seokjin and Jimin only to be met with endless ringing. Pulling back to look at the screen to discover you had no signal, zero bars. The house got so cold you felt yourself shake. The shutters on the outside of windows slammed back and forth against the house. The sounds of groaning, like multiple voices overlapping over one another. Crawling back into the closest corner you felt your eyes start to water, a sob leaving your lips. You were frozen in place, glued to the wall.

All of a sudden everything stopped. The house became quiet. Lifting your head up you examined your surroundings. A figure stood at the end of the staircase. You locked eyes with the man at the end of the staircase, his strong glare meeting your frightened eyes. His down turned lips parted in a sigh.

“What the hell are you doing in my home?”

You’d straightened up wiping the tears away with a sniff. Staring back blankly at the man.

He yelled, making you jump. “You! I’m talking to you! What the hell are you doing here?”

“I- I’m just tryna honor my end of a bet. I lost a bet that’s it.” you whispered. The man shook his head. You took in his appearance, dressed in all black. Black robe almost dusting against the floor, striped button down and black slacks. Jet black hair styled in a slight middle part.

“My home isn’t your playground.” the man said, gripping the bannister on the staircase.

“You must be Kim Taehyung?” you asked.

“I’m the only ghost living here so I would hope so.” he stated.

“I can leave if you want.” you offered, wanting to facepalm yourself after asking such a stupid question of course he would want you to leave. Taehyung looked a little taken back.

“You’re not afraid of me?” he asked.

You stalled. “I mean yeah. You just did all that stuff just now. I’m actually terrified, but I don’t know if you’re gonna kill me so I figure it wouldn’t hurt to use my manners.”

Taehyung hummed. “Normally the type of people that come through want to vandalize my home or film ghost hunting videos they say, perform seances to try and talk to me. But if you are just here to truly honor a bet I’m sure another three hours wouldn’t hurt.” He walked up the steps sitting a couple of feet away from you on the landing. You kept looking at him out of the corner of your eye at him as he idly played around with his fingers.

“Are you just going to stare at me?” Taehyung asked, coldly.

“I’m sorry it’s just I’m really scared right now. No offense to you Mr. Kim.” you apologized.

Taehyung snorted at your formality. “You don’t have to call me Mr., just call me Taehyung. I’m sure we’re around the same age…” he paused, rolling his eyes “I’m sure we would’ve been or something.. you get what I’m trying to say.”

“I get it. How old were you? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“24.”

You nodded in response. You had maybe… 3 hours to finish in the house. You only had to make it until sunrise since that is technically staying the night. If Taehyung wasn’t going to do anything but sit there and be quiet it wouldn’t be too bad.

“So are you tampering with the signal or…” you trailed off. Taehyung made a face like a lightbulb that had gone off above his head.

“I’m sorry. It’s not intentional. It’s just something about me that does that. You’re not the first to complain about your smartphone? Is that what they’re called?” he asked. You held in a laugh, nodding your head.

“I just. I’m confined here. I only see the world when it comes to me. So I don’t really know too much about out there anymore.” Taehyung confided in you, speaking barely above a whisper.

“It’s fine. On the bright side you would’ve been older, maybe you would’ve been the type to dodge this stupid social media shit.” Taehyung looked at you confused.

“Don’t worry about it.” you looked around the house from where you were sitting and up the stairs leading into the bedroom. “Nice house you got here.” Taehyung scoffed.

“Thanks. Didn’t always look this run down.” he said and with a wave of his hand it was like a light came through the place, showing what used to be. The bright orange carpet and brown couch, huge sparkling chandelier hanging from the ceiling, plants live and green. You looked over at Taehyung, seeing the pained look on his face as dropped his hand, making everything return to normal.

“A little trick I picked up over the years.” he mumbled. You couldn’t imagine what he went through. Having everything pulled away from you so quickly at a young age.

“Bet you threw some cool parties here. I know if i had a place this big I would’ve.” you tried to uplift the mood. Taehyung nodded.

“Yeah I was gonna throw a big bash here when I finally got my Oscar nom. I knew it was gonna happen. I was gonna be the first of the first. Start breaking down all types of doors for people to come in and follow up.” Taehyung wiped away a tear.

“What happened? Was it really your friend? Or was it an accident?” you asked. Taehyung looked at you eyes narrowed angrily.

“Why would I tell you what happened? So you could run and tell my business to whoever will listen?” he asked.

“Who the hell is gonna believe my crazy ass? I spent the night in a celebrities haunted mansion and talked to said celebrity and now I have the answers to a decades old mystery? Get the fuck outta here.” you shook your head rolling your eyes.

“It was a mix of both” Taehyung ran his fingers through his hair “a friend of mine, Hyunwoo he knew my knee had been hurting that day he knew it was. He saw me take my medicine earlier. But little did I know that evening when we sat down for drinks he slipped more of my medicine in, letting it disintegrate in my liquor. I had now clue. When I choked on my own vomit, he didn’t yell for help. He didn’t call 911, like a good friend would. No, he laid me back. Stroking my head, saying his apologies and watching the light leave my eyes and that was it.” Taehyung looked at you, your mouth parted in shock.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” you said, holding your chest.

“All that just to steal my role alongside Al Pacino. The big role, guaranteed to get my Oscar. I don’t even know how the movie ended up working out for him.”

“You know to be honest. I don’t even think the movie might’ve went through production because I have quite literally never heard of it.” you confessed. Taehyung shook his head.

“Well this is news to me. I got murdered just for the film to get scrapped or stuck in development hell.” he laughed bitterly.

“That’s fucking tragic. I’m really sorry, Taehyung.”

“What are you sorry for? Don’t be sorry. You weren’t around, wasn’t even thought of when I died. All things happen for a reason. That’s something I had to learn. It’s hard not to be a bitter ghost. I don’t mean to scare people away to be a dickhead. But I’m stuck here. The last thing I want is people poking and prodding around my home. It’s the only place I can get peace of mind.”

“Hopefully one day you can move on. I know I don’t know you but hopefully ya know.” you sighed.

“Thank you.” he said.

You and Taehyung talked for a while. About a whole bunch of things. From you telling him all about the internet and what it can do and him telling you all about his start in acting. Weird shit and secrets nobody knew about other celebrities back then.

You looked down at your phone, not having checked it for a while. 6:47 it read.

“Fuck. I’ve gotta go. My friends are gonna be waiting for me. They’re not gonna believe I made it through the night.” you said, quickly standing up to get your belongings. Taehyung stood up too watching you walk down the staircase. You turned around to look at him.

“What? Are you not gonna be a gentleman and walk me out? I thought people your age were big on chivalry and shit.” you joked. Taehyung smiled, the first smile you saw all night, big and boxy as he made his way down the steps.

Taehyung paused.“May I ask you something?” You nodded waiting for him to continue.

“Do people.. do people still talk about me?” he asked.

“I mean besides the bad stuff yeah. My friend Seokjin, he’s a film major. They talked about you in his class last week. You’re up there with like James Dean.” you stated. Taehyung gasped.

“Really?”

“Really. Although your image isn’t exploited like his. Yeah people know you.” you smiled. Taehyung stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“It was nice meeting you. I hope everything goes well for you. Work and life and stuff.” Taehyung said.

“Same. I hope you finally make it up there because when I die I’m gonna need a tour guide.” you laughed. Taehyung chuckled.

“See ya around.” he said.

“See ya around.” you opened the door closing it behind you. Seokjin and Jimin were waiting for you, car running in front of the house. You slid in the backseat.

“You fucking made it out!” Seokjin yelled, as Jimin put the car in drive to pull off.

“Yeah, I did.”

“So, did you see him? Did you see Kim Taehyung?” Jimin asked.

“No. Thank God I didn’t. I probably would’ve peed on myself.” you lied.

“Wow. What a bummer. I guess it wasn’t that bad being in there.” Seokjin said.

“No it wasn’t too bad at all. I might have to go back home and check out some of his movies.” you said, leaning back against the back seat. Looking out the window, hopefully Taehyung makes it to the sky some day.

#taehyung x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfic #taehyung imagines #taehyung scenarios #taehyung fanfiction #bts fic recs #bts fics #taehyung fic recs #fic:reset character #author:almostkoo #spooktober 2020 #HAPPY HALLOWEEN

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vellichor-virgo · 4 years

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OC Scenarios Tag

thanks for tagging me @zmlorenz ! there's nothing i love more than rambling abt my OCs.

I'm using Celena, the protagonist of Night's Daughter:

1) Your OC is at a bar when they see a mysterious, alluring dame being pestered by a joe that just won’t let up. What do they do?

Celena is like, the least confrontational person in the world, so I feel like if it went on for too long she’d do something indirect like “accidentally” spill a drink all over the guy to give the girl a chance to escape.

2) The world will be destroyed in three days. What does your OC do with their remaining time?

Assuming this is after she meets the rest of the gang, she’d probably spend some quality time with them, because she loves her friends. The last day would be spent with Iliana, because they would probably insist on going out together.

3) Your OC spends the night in a haunted house for a bet, only to realize the rumours might be true… what do they do?

Celena is a pretty anxious person, but she’s also ridiculously curious, which makes for an interesting mix. In this situation, she would stick around to see what happened, but she’d probably psych herself out and get progressively more paranoid throughout the night. I don’t think she’d really get scared though (she’s not particularly fazed by creepy stuff) so she’d probably just stay up all night and win the bet.

4) A character your OC cares deeply about just passed away. How do they handle their grief?

Withdraws into herself and just kind of clocks out of life for a while. She’d spend a lot of time on her own, probably in nature because it brings a little bit of comfort to her.

5) Your OC walks into a coffee shop. What kind of coffee do they order?

I’ve literally never ordered coffee in my life, so I have no idea. I think Celena would be more of a tea gal anyways.

6) Your OC finds themselves in a financial pinch - they need money, and fast. Who do they go to or what do they do to get the dough?

Probably as many little odd jobs for random people as she could pick up. If she was still in the village, she could hunt and gather in the woods and then sell that stuff (basically just her entire life before the story, since she was never really financially stable). If the situation was desperate enough, though, she’s not above getting involved in a heist some potentially illegal get-rich-quick scheme.

Then again, after she joins the court, all her friends are nobility and/or royalty who would probably agree to spot her the money, but I doubt her pride would let her ask them.

7) Your OC somehow gains the ability to time travel. Where do they go, and what do they do?

She would go back to the childhood she doesn’t remember, so she can find out what it was like and what the hell happened to make her forget everything and show up in the village.

If she couldn’t use time travel for personal reasons, she would go way back in time to try to figure out some things that I can’t disclose here bc massive spoilers. 🙊

tagging @sleepyowlwrites , @akindofmagictoo , @lanawritesalittle , & anyone else who wants to do this bc i adore reading about other people's OCs 🥰

#tag games #ch: celena #about my OCs #now thinking about an AU where cel & co has to pull off a heist... hm...

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2018shawn · 4 years

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Ruin the Friendship

OMG to the anon that requested this I am SO sorry it took me this long and it’s probably not up to expectation I've just been struggling to write djbsndfa HOWEVER, this was my interpretation of the song and I hope you enjoy. I did intend for it to be more sexy but it turned out more goof so soz about tht OH and I also wrote this with a OC I dunno why it just happened but there u go

Warnings: suggestions of smut, swearing, MY WRITING, alcohol consumption etc etc

Remy’s phone balanced against a stack of books, just enough so that she was in view of the front facing camera, not really giving too much attention to how she looked. Her screen was dominated by a mop of brown curls and just, and I mean - just - underneath them, she could make out the facial structure of her closest friend, neighbour and music mogul, known to the world as Shawn Mendes. To her, he was known as annoying neighbour that A) played guitar ridiculously late at night, especially in the room that backed onto her bedroom. B) never had milk and would knock at stupid o’clock in the morning to get some because he was fuelled by coffee and fancy tea’s and C) wasn’t there half the time, meaning she had 2 lots of post to check for every morning. He was in the midst of rambling and from what she could gather, he was throwing a party for absolutely no particular reason other than the weather was nice and doesn’t that make you wanna have a beer?

“No, Shawn. I don’t really drink beer, so I can’t say it does” She replied, rolling her eyes behind her quirky, but necessary, reading glasses as her fingers swiftly tapped away at her keyboard, trying to get down as many words as she could.

“Ok... vodka? gin?...” he started, and she gave me him a raised eyebrow kinda look as she finally turned her attention to him. “Tequilaaaaa?” He dragged out, putting on a face that the angels could have sculpted themselves.

“Jesus, no. Absolutely not.” The last time Shawn made her do a tequila shot, he demanded that she did it from his I want to run my tongue over stomach, to which she was absolutely mortified and knew that there was no chance in hell she could keep her cool, or stop her lips from going further south, if she was to lick or suck anywhere near that region. He finally let her settle for shotting it from the glass like a normal human being and that was the last she remembered of the night, “I’ll have water, I got a lot of work to do tomorrow”.

He plumped out his bottom lip at her response, but quickly raised a point. “So, that means you’re coming?” He was moving about in the screen, and she guessed he was just pacing around his apartment because he was the most restless person she’d ever met. She’d never known him to be home longer than 1 week at a time, so it was a rarity that he was currently on day 3 and quite possibly throwing a party out of boredom, not good will.

“Not necessarily... but, I might drop in” She replied, closing the lid down on her laptop with a sigh as her brain came to a halt with words, partly because of the Canadian boy the other side of her FaceTime call, “If I have to”.

He smiled and nodded, indicating that she did, in fact, have to. “You do! You’re always working, have a night off, Rems” She groaned at not only his nickname for her, but when she heard a knock at her door, assuming it would be her delivery. Pushing herself up from her sofa and slumping over to the door, she knew the angle on her screen wasn’t the prettiest, like when you accidentally open front camera and get the shock of your life, but he’d seen her in much worse states than this.

“I just... don’t know anyone” She said, swinging the door open, her eyes looking back at the screen to gauge Shawn’s reaction. To her dismay, just because of the pleasure of getting to see his face, he’d paused the FaceTime, assumingly scrolling away on other apps where faces were much more interesting that what she thought hers was.

“You know me” His voice snapped her out or her gaze, not just from her phone, but from the tall figure stood in her doorway. It wasn’t obscure that he was stood at her door, it was just obscure that he was on FaceTime at the same time. “What you gonna wear?”

He pushed past her, walking himself into the apartment which he knew all too well, not just because his was symmetrical, but because he’d been round here more times than he'd had hot dinners. It wasn’t all good reasoning - he’d turned up numerous times looking like he was on the verge of tears, which sometimes he burst into as soon as she shut the door behind him, he’d turned up fucked out of his face, because he couldn’t work his own key in the door and demanded he stay on her couch because his apartment felt lonely, hell, he’d even turned up heartbroken because the same damned girl kept screwing him over and he couldn't quite establish his self worth.

It killed her, for him not to see how incredibly special he was. She’d always had a small crush on him, sure. But Remy just learnt to deal with it because, sure, dating her was definitely not on the top of his to do list.

She was left stood, her hand still clasped around the door as he waltzed into her bedroom, muttering nothing in particular other than how she looked good in that red, flowery thing and she should definitely wear that. “Fucking dumbass” She muttered to herself, sighing as she finally closed the door, letting it shut with a loud click before following the - did I mention? - annoying neighbour that apparently would not take no for an answer.

“Turn off your FaceTime, I can hear you, fucking dumbass”

--------------------

She sipped, through her straw, at was definitely not water and she knew she shouldn’t have trusted him when he asked what she wanted to drink. She convinced herself it would be rude not to drink it - and maybe a couple more, now she had the taste for it. Her friend, Lily, was the one that put the icing on the cake, turning up at her house - what was with people just randomly turning up? - all dolled up ready for the night. She knew her friend only wanted to go because Connor had more than likely been in touch, after several previous one night stands/‘meetings’ and Lily was not the kind of girl that passed up the opportunity to get laid - even though she had Connor wrapped around her little finger.

Lily had left her to go pee, but Remy knew she most definitely would get lost (in Connor’s lap) on the way back, which left her with no choice but to fend for herself. She’d seen Shawn on arrival, but knew he was making a round of doing the pleasantries and she couldn't be stuck to his hip all night, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to be. As if he’d sensed her needs, her annoying neighbour came prancing over with the grin of a Cheshire Cat and, of course, a red cup contained in one hand.

He looked good - really fucking good - she thought to herself as she watched him, buttons undone one extra than the normal person, showing the chest hair he always claimed to be manly. His trousers were tight around his peachy rear, which is somewhere she’d always wanted to get her hands onto but, funnily enough, never found the right moment to do that as a friend and neighbour. Like hey, I brought your post up... by the way let me touch your butt or hey, I saw you’re back in town, can I come round... and touch your butt.

Sure he looked good, but his body; his body even looked good. It looked healthy. Happy. Refreshed. Which is something it often wasn’t and she would preach to him numerous times about how you only get one and you need to look after it. Turns out he may have actually listened to her for once and taken her advice.

Remy had thought numerous times about going there with Shawn - there being her underneath him, but she also knew he could get any girl he wanted with the click of his fingers, because that’s just the kind of guy he was. She, was unaware that he thought she’d never want him - he knew she loved home comforts and stability and someone to be there. He completely wasn’t the right guy to be able to offer that, and sure, bedding her had crossed his mind because he wasn’t completely oblivious to all the little gazes he’d caught her in as he walked around his - or her - apartment in nothing but a pair of Calvin Klein’s. But he couldn’t bare to do it to her - fuck her and leave - no matter how many times she bit her perfectly plump lip when he was chatting away to her about the dumb TV show they’d started watching.

“How’s your water?” He smirked, his eyes looking a little drunk as he mirrored her posture, leaning back against the kitchen counter with arms crossed, only he stood much taller. He turned to face her, eyes clicking with hers and giving her the same puppy dog eyes he always did.

“Great, actually, thank you” she smiled, being the one to break the eye contact before taking another large sip of her drink. His view didn’t alter as he kept eyes on her, beyond her knowledge, to take in every inch of what he thought to be perfect features. Shawn had travelled all around the world, but never met anyone that quite compared to Remy. He had never met anyone who was so determined to succeed, even through having as many set backs as her. He had never met anyone who could give so much love, despite being the one needing love herself. And what he thought about the most, was that he’d never met anyone who had a body like hers - one that could make him feel like jelly. “They’re really into each other aren’t they?”

She interrupted his train of admiring thoughts, making him stutter and blush when she turned back to face him, catching him staring at her plump lips. She nodded her head towards Lily and Connor, who were talking to other people but might as well have been auditioning for a role in love actually, because they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. “Yeah, I actually didn’t know it was possible for him to have feelings” he laughed and she nodded, rolling her eyes and capturing her bottom lip in between her teeth. He lulled at the material of his unbuttoned shirt in an attempt to get some ventilation. He felt hot, and it wasn’t the alcohol.

“Well, I stupidly offered her a place to crash so I guess that means he’ll be joining too” She took the straw that was swivelling around in her drink, frustrated as she tried to catch it in her mouth every time she wanted a sip, and threw it behind her onto the counter. With one large gulp, the rest of her drink was gone and they both knew she was starting to get the confidence she so dearly deserved.

“I have a spare bed, if you know...” he started, not entirely sure where he was going with the whole invitation, “get bored of the noise”

ouch. friend zoned. She thought to herself, although grateful for the offer.

“I’m gonna whoop your ass at twister,” was the only thing she could reply, swiftly changing subject and nudging her head towards the surprisingly - so far - relatively PG game of twister happening in his lounge.

ouch. rejected. He though to himself, although slightly embarrassed at his childlike offer.

--------------------

Remy balanced on the balcony railing, her hair pushed to one side of her neck, exposing her shoulder and collar bone, just a measly spaghetti strap covering any skin there. She came outside for one of two reason. One being the fact she felt herself getting drunk, which is something she intended not to do. Two being that Shawn looked more hot the drunker she got and that was not the kind of things that she wanted filling her mind whilst she had the new found tipsy confidence.

“Hey, there you are” Shawn slid the balcony door closed behind him, placing his beer bottle on the little table, surrounded by two chairs, that covered almost half of the tiny balcony. “I thought you’d back door boogied.”

She snorted out a laugh, shaking her head at his ridiculous methodology. “No, but that would be the way to go, because you’d no doubt nag me to stay, if I told you I was leaving.”

He leant his back against the railing, turning his head to the right to get full view of her, as she admired the busy Toronto city. “Can you blame me?” She pursed her lips, trying to keep her eyes on the bright city lights. “What would I have to do, out of interest?”

She finally turned to look at him, his signature smile covering his features and that was more than enough to ever make her stay. “Hmm... maybe play me my favourite song.” He simply nodded, taking mental note.

They stayed silent for a few minutes, nothing but the sound of busy streets and the music inside filing the void. They awkwardly clicked eye contact a couple of times, her cheeks blushing a deep shade of red each time which he found incredibly cute, but also somehow sexy. “You should get back, it’s your party you loser.”

“I like your company,” he smiled genuinely, playfully nudging her shoulder with his own. He wanted nothing more, in this moment, than to grab her, hold her close and admire the beauty of the city with her. Admire her beauty.

She shoved her empty red cup in his hand, suddenly feeling thirsty, although she was sure it wasn’t the type of thirst that could be satisfied with another drink. But, another drink would have to make do. “Go fill up my dink, and I shall grace you with my presence shortly.”

He wasn’t sure where the assertiveness came from, but he thought it almost turned him on. “One Tequlia, coming right up”

--------------------

The dull party music was nothing but a background noise now everyone had vacated, leaving Remy, Shawn, Lily and Connor as the last men standing. Shawn couldn’t help but jibe at Remy for being one of the final few, making it through the entire party and finishing with a rare buzz from the alcohol. “Me and Con are gonna get going, if that’s okay?” Lily spoke, filling the last space in the dishwasher with any glass she could.

“Sure, thanks for your help, guys” Shawn said, balancing a stack of red plastic cups in his right hand that slightly resembled the leaning tower of Pisa, shaking Connor’s hand with his left.

“Okay well, here’s my key, I'll help Shawn finish up and I'll be back” Remy confirmed, walking over to her bag and retrieving her key from inside, handing it over to the eager blonde. She began speaking in a much quieter tone, even though Shawn and Connor were engaging in their own conversation and would absolutely have no interest in there's, “I might stay in Shawn’s spare room, give you guys... space” you laughed. Lily was more than thankful to have a best friend like you.

“Girl, stay in his damn bed” She replied, earning a roll of the eyes from Remy at the typical Lily answer.

“I wouldn’t mind if she did” Shawn spoke, Remy suddenly freezing and heart beating faster than she ever knew it could. The remark was pushed aside as everyone bid their final farewells, leaving Shawn and Remy alone in his apartment with nothing but a huge mess and Spotify playlist playing in the background. “You look really pretty tonight”, he added, as she finished rounding up the last few beer bottles and throwing them in his bottle bin.

“I... uh... thanks. You too” She smiled, almost instantly mentally slapping her forehead with the palm of her hand. Pretty? You look pretty too? She thought to herself. “I mean, you look good. Not pretty, but good”

“You don’t think I’m pretty?” He gasped, his hand pressing against his chest as he acted shocked. He leant his back against the wall, his legs straining against the fabric of his jeans, with one leg bent and supported against the structure. She couldn’t help but think about climbing on top of his thick limbs, straddling him and pinning him down. She replied a small oh har-har and he stood up, walking over to her, despite her pretending to be busy with the same bottles she’d been moving around for the past 5 minutes. “Because I think you're very, very pretty. Beautiful, actually” She felt his breath against the back of her hair, just above her ear as she remained facing the countertop. She was sure that she’d never felt a flush of heat like the one she was experiencing. His long arms captured her in his personal space, the scent of her sweet perfume filling the little space between them.

Shawn noticed how she’d stopped moving and he wasn't sure if he was pushing the boundaries too much. He would, of course, stop if she was to show him any signs of feeling uncomfortable, but the way her body finally relaxed against his told him the opposite. His fingers nervously danced over her waist, and he failed to notice the trail of goose pimples that covered her bare arms. It felt like a lifetime, waiting for her to react or say something.

Both their hearts, unbeknown to each other, were almost beating out of their chests. “Shawn...” Was all she could mumble, managing somehow to turn around, in the tiny amount of space she had, to face him. Well, to face his chest. His hands remained on her waist, his mind subconsciously telling him to hold on because she could try and run at any given moment. She looked up at him, through fluttering lashes, trying to work out what he was thinking, but failing miserably.

“Do you want me to move away?” He asked, noticing how their bodies were closer than they ever had been. Truth be told, she didn’t know, but something in her possessed her to shake her head, much to Shawn’s relief. So he sighed happily, reaching up his hand and brushing some stray hairs away from her face, his hand lingering there once he’d done. She reached up and covered his larger hand with hers, looking into his eyes with what he could only describe as love. Her eyes flickered between his eyes and his lips, giving him the signal he’d been waiting for.

Dipping his neck down, their lips collided with messy passion as his hand grasped the back of her neck, her hand finally parting from his to tug at the material of his shirt. She groaned at his neediness, moving into him, her chest pressing against his front. Neither of them thought about coming up for air, only needing each other to survive in this very moment.

Remy was the first one to detach, her cheeks covering deep red blush, yet again. “We... shouldn't.” She stated, her hands still balling up the fabric of his shirt.

“I’m not gonna force you to do anything you don’t want to do, but fuck, Rems.” He breathed heavily, stroking his thumb over her flushed cheeks. “You have no idea how long I've wanted to.” It shocked her that he sounded like he meant it, because there wasn’t many men out there who were as honest as he. All she could find herself doing was taking in whatever words he spoke, her mind on over drive and then some. “And not like, just tonight. I’ve wanted you every day, in every city, every album, every single. And what’s more ironic is that your favourite song you said you’d like me to play for you... is about you and...”

She stopped him with another kiss, her tip toes aiding her in reaching up to his taller height. She knew the confidence had come from the uncountable amount of vodka-lemonades she’d practically inhaled, but her actions were sincere. Shawn approved of both the confidence and the actions. She spoke into his mouth as they loved on each other, “This... could...” He flicked his tongue against hers, her words being replaced with a string of moans. His hands pulled at the hair on the back of her head, pulling her neck upwards as their lips disconnected, giving him more access to the skin on her neck. His lips trailed wet kisses down, nipping at the delicate skin. “Ruin our friendship,” she finally finished and although her words were spoken genuine concern, the only thing she was physically concerned about was getting enough of a handful of his hair to toy with.

Her breathing was deep as Shawn pulled away, face still hovering close to hers. “I mean it though, Remy. I’m all in, if you are” She knew it was a big risk, ruining her friendship; her anxiety wouldn’t let her stay living next to Shawn if anything was to go wrong, meaning she’d have to go through the pain of packing up and moving apartments, to another country, in another world, because, being without Shawn was what it felt like to be alone.

If the friendship was ruined, it was already ruined because normal friends don’t casually do this in their kitchens. If she had chance to feel his love, she deserved to, as did he. Her mind raced with thoughts of these, a small laugh escaping her lips at how she’d found herself in this completely ridiculous situation, as she spoke words she never thought she'd be saying to the pretty Canadian boy staring into her soul, “Pick me the fuck up.”

#Shawn mendes #Shawn mendes imagine #Shawn Mendes fic #Shawn mendes blurb #Shawn mendes oneshot #Shawn mendes smut

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an-animagoose · 4 years

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Abel info dump 2 me about ur ocs challenge

alright its 12am and i dont expect this to make sense, read at your own risk but heres a bullshit couple paragraphs on ashley underwood,

this is mostly ash because i think about her the most and this will make no sense because i haven't talked about her in literal months. ash is very complicated to me because i messed a lot with her characterization for a while and i still do, and i constantly wonder if I'm just shoving her into something convenient and stereotypical and therefore lessening her value, and then i decided that shes not real and i can make characters that don't make sense to anyone else but myself and i no longer also have to watch someone else take away pieces from her while i sit silently confused and hurt like i did before. anyway, she's very special to me because i put myself in her in a lot of small ways because she was the first oc i properly created. i made her originally for a fantasy storyline i was doing with some friends, and i thought she was very cool because she could do magic (doctor strange-esque, im not original) and then i gave her some trauma because its the next logical step. now i mostly think of her in all the modern aus that were created, and a lot of its with her old love interest (they had a very cool dynamic, sometimes childhood best friends to lovers, both with no idea how to be functional members of society, but i dont know if I'm like legally allowed to discuss them anymore so if i mention it once or twice my bad i just like knowing how my ocs act in relationships). i don't really know how I'm supposed to write things so I'm just going to put some general information and then ramble for a billion words cool sorry

general things!! shes a disaster bisexual whos 5′8″ and surviving on coffee and spite, she has freckles and tan skin (half Spanish on her mom's side- speaking of her parents died when she was 10 either in a car accident or a murder I didn't make my mind up) very curly brown hair and worrying bags under her eyes. she can look intimidating at first because she has one of those resting bitch faces and a dislike of being alive (there's a little bit of mental illness as a treat) also I'm really tired writing this I'm so sorry

she's an English major- she loves books, spent most her teenage years with her nose in one because it was easier than talking to people and also they're Fucking Good, she has shelves filled with them and two copies of her favourites so she can fill one with notes and annotations and she cries is she ever accidentally ruins one, she never sleeps when she should, staying up till the early morning and then napping at every chance she gets (she has fallen asleep on all of her friends so often, and never makes it through the second hour of the movie unless it's important), she starfishes when she sleeps and is a nightmare to wake up because she will tell you rather impolitely to “leave her the fuck alone” (getting out of bed means dealing with the world and it's so tiring to do it over and over), she’s constantly cold, wrapped up in sweaters and if she's comfortable enough, clings to the closets human heater. speaking of, it takes her a while to warm up to people, used to absolutely shut herself off from getting close to people in fear of them leaving before going to ~therapy~. she gets top grades in school because she works until shes burnt out and puts an overwhelming amount of pressure on herself, breaks down when she cant understand something in the first few tries because it feels like a failure, she does debate and writes poems and lyrics in beat up notebooks, hides them when people come over and owns like 3 guitars, sings unreasonably well and has scarily specific playlists, has round glasses she only wears when she has to because she cant see shit far away, catches colds often, brushes them off till shes forced into a bed, she studies the stars because theyre beautiful and unattainable and reads psychology books and likes true crime but only when theres a satisfying ending, she shows love through acts of service and physical touch, likes receiving quality time and words of affirmation, she takes polaroids of all her friends and sticks a bunch to her wall so she can stare at them and know that things are worth it now, has posters and art to remind herself of the little joys in life, will fight you about the star wars movies, overly competitive in a lot of things (mario-kart is a dangerous fucking game), curses a lot, stress bakes and cries when something goes slightly wrong, accidentally collects a following on tiktok from shitposting at 4am and having a nice aesthetic (and being pretty), would be the mysterious girl who you see/works at the bookstore/coffee-shop and fall a little bit in love with, writes essays last minute due to chronic procrastination and still aces it, is a ravenclaw, would be a child of hades in the pjo universe, would play outside hitter in volleyball (yes there was a haikyuu au), would be bassist in a band. i think this is all i can think of tonight because my eyes hurt but feel free to ask questions/ say anything honestly i really missed talking about my ocs and i have: many more that i will also talk about if anyone wants me to, (please. my inbox is so open please tell me abt ur ocs too i think its so fun)

#ok tagging this now bc tumblr fucking broke immediately after i tried posting this #heres ash! it doesnt make loads of sense but its not 12 56 and this is a lot of words #im sorry for the bad formatting and stuff i kinda just wrote what came to mind and can make another version of this another time #fr please skmeone ask me about these mfs i #i gots lizzy n cece n chris and characters ive barely explored n m too tired to but mayhaos #anyway yeah <3 #writing #oc #original character

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bethhxrmon · 4 years

Text

do flowers exist at night? -chapter six

Chapter Six: That Would Be Enough

Pairing: Steve Harrington x OC

Chapter Summary: After the events of the Upside Down, there is nothing to do except try to recover. Both Steve and Annie learn that they don’t have to do it alone.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Swearing, panic attacks, mental breakdowns, pining if you squint?

A/N: Howdy, we’re really getting into the more original parts of this fic so I hope you guys vibe with this! And if you do vibe with this chapter, I would love to hear your thoughts!! Also, if you need the rest of the story it is right here.

~*~*~*~

Steve sat on the edge of the bathtub, ice pack in hand. It was pressed up against his eye. Every few minutes it alternated from the top of his head to his eye. As many times as Annie tried to insist that he go to the hospital, he was against it. That left her insisting on taking care of him after everything. After all, she already had her things at his house, and she wasn’t too keen on going home.

The gate was closed, but that didn't mean she trusted her house. Besides, was it such a bad thing to not want to be alone? Plus, she would have to find Erik somewhere in his house first. Annie didn't know if Steve really wanted to just be by himself or not, but she was sure that if she was alone for too long that the realities of the night would swallow her whole. Everything from the demodogs to Billy to the tunnels left her longing to crawl into a hole and never come back. She didn't even want to think about everything with Billy.

"Okay, so... I don't know how this works so I'm sorry if it stings," Annie said, kneeling down so she could dab a damp washcloth on Steve's face.

He nodded, letting her press the towel to his skin, "What happened?"

"Um... Billy saw the kids through the window and he shoved you down. Right as he was about to beat the shit out of Lucas, you stepped in. You um... you almost had it too," she paused, hesitating when she felt him wince at her touch, "Then he broke a plate over your head and... and it was over from there."

Steve clenched his jaw to keep from moving away from Annie. How he was feeling was beyond her. All she knew was that something got knocked loose in there because he asked the question more than once. She couldn't bring herself to say that, though. For the most part, he was still there. That had to be enough.

There was a hand cupping her cheek and she yanked her head back, "How'd ya get cut up like that?"

"It's nothing... I got him off of you."

That was her explanation of choice. No need to explain trying to fight and getting pinned to the floor. She didn't even want to think about how she couldn't move. How Billy said those things. How there was something against her leg. How she knew what it was but she couldn't bring herself to say it. She wanted to forget the feeling of his mouth on her neck. Though, most importantly, she wasn't going to tell Steve. There was enough going through his head without her adding anything else.

He frowned and cringed as Annie turned to put some peroxide on his face, "I lost Nancy... didn't I?"

"Yeah," she nodded, "You did. Steve, I-"

"She didn' love me before... she wanted Jonathan," he closed his eyes when Annie accidentally got some soap on a cut.

She drew back, "Sorry... um yeah, I guess she did."

"It's 'cause I'm bullshit. She's right. I can't even watch a few fuckin' kids right."

Annie clutched the towel in her hand and she cupped his face with her other hand, "You're not bullshit, Steve. You did everything you could, okay? If it weren't for you, Lucas could be dead. Nancy doesn't know what she wants and the fact that she just ditched you like this is what's really bullshit here. You deserve the world and you can't convince me any different."

There was a long pause between them. For a moment, she thought Steve was going to ask her to leave. He didn't, he just stared at her and she stared right back. Her dark brown eyes looked at his rather confused ones. A part of her swore he looked at her lips, but maybe that was because she looked at his. Maybe she leaned up just a slight bit, but she quickly turned away to grab the ointment on the bathroom counter.

"Are ya gonna tell me how you got that cut?" he asked as she dodged his attempt to touch her face again.

She gave a weak smile, "You don't need to worry about that. I'm just... I'm glad you made it."

Even the thought of kissing Steve was stupid in hindsight. Would he even remember? Did a part of him think she was Nancy? She had no clue, and she probably only wanted to do that because she almost lost him. Had he died, she would have lost her one friend. Though, she didn't lose him. Instead, she was patching him up after that awful fight.

There was nothing Annie wanted more than to walk to Billy's house and stab him to death. Something to make him understand the pain he caused her. The way he laughed at Steve falling and at her being underneath him were sounds she couldn't get out of her head. Right up there with the screeching of those monsters. What would have happened if Max hadn't thought to use the anesthetic?

"Hey, I'm gonna take a shower," Steve said, moving to stand up.

Annie stood up as well, staring up at him, "Absolutely not. You're not standing for that long. You should probably take a bath."

"Alright, fine," he said, nodding for her to go.

She moved to leave the bathroom before turning back, "Um... can I use your phone? I need to call my mom."

"Yeah, it's downstairs in the living room."

Annie left the bathroom that connected to Steve's bedroom and closed the door. His grey bomber jacket was covering most of her body. When they dropped the kids off at the Byers', she stayed in the car. She must have been shaking like a leaf because Steve wouldn't take no for an answer. It smelled like him, meaning it didn't smell like Billy and that was enough.

The sound of running water could be heard from the bathroom as she laid down on his bed. How was she supposed to go to school ever again?

Looking at the clock, it was nearly two in the morning. Oddly enough, she didn't feel tired in the slightest. Maybe that was because the last time she carelessly fell asleep, she woke up to a bunch of slugs crawling all over her.

Would her mom even want to hear from her right now? It was obviously late. Still, if she didn't call her now, there was a chance that she wouldn't be able to do it later.

By the time she made up her mind, the water had stopped running a while ago. She crept out of Steve's room. They agreed to leave every single light on. It gave Steve a massive headache, but neither of them wanted to deal with what could be in the shadows. If only there was something she could do to make Steve feel completely better. There wasn't more she could do, though. Nothing aside from trying to be there for him.

Still, she couldn't help thinking that she was just bothering him. That he probably just wanted to be left alone. After all, she didn't know him very well. Their entire friendship was based on trying to help him with his girlfriend. Now that he and Nancy were no more, she was sure that after all this, Steve wouldn't want anything to do with her.

Which she understood. After all, she was the one calling her mom at two in the morning when the woman was sleeping in a hotel room hours away. That had to be annoying, but her mom was the only person who would have truly missed her had she died.

There were a few rings before the hotel lobby picked up her call and then transferred it to her mom's room. Annie twirled the cord around her index finger as she waited for someone to pick up.

"Hello?" answered a groggy voice.

Annie couldn't help smiling, "Mom, hey."

"Annette? Do you know what time it is?"

"Right... yeah, sorry-"

"Is something wrong, did something happen? Do you need me to come home, I can make that work," there was rustling on the other line.

"No, no... sorry I um- I had a- a bad dream. It was really bad and I just needed to hear your voice. Sorry, Mom."

Annie could hear a long sigh, "Are you sure that's it?"

"Yeah, I just called to let you know I love you," she said, tears pricking her eyes.

"I love you too, Annie. But you're sure that's all?"

A tear fell from her eyes, but she kept her voice clear, "That's it."

"Okay, go get some more sleep. I love you so much, goodnight."

The other end clicked off and Annie set the phone on the receiver. Her hands covered her mouth as she felt more tears coming on. How was she supposed to deal with this? What was she supposed to do?

She bent over, her shoulders sagging as she sobbed. Everything circled her mind. From her dad to the kids at school to the demodogs to Billy right back to those awful monsters and almost losing Steve and the kids. It all repeated itself in her mind. Suddenly there were arms wrapped around her and she couldn't even register that she was screaming until she realized just how much her throat hurt.

"Hey, hey, Annie. It's just me. I'm so sorry, it's just me, I-I'm not gonna hurt you," Steve rambled, quick to let go of her as she struggled to get away.

The way her body shook made her fall on the floor, seated on the carpet as she cried. Steve could only watch as she moved away from him when he tried to touch her again.

Her head was buried in her hands, wishing she could just disappear again. This was probably more than Steve knew what to do with. He probably would want her to just head out. After all, he had been through enough without her screaming and crying.

Except, he never said anything. Eventually she stopped crying and she looked at him. There was just a look of pure concern etched on his face as he crouched down to be at her level.

She was quick to wipe her tears, "Sorry, I um- I didn't know-"

"What did he do?" he asked, "Hargrove did something to you. I might have a concussion, but I'm not stupid. What happened after I passed out?"

Annie shook her head, "Nothing. I got him off of you. That's all you need to-"

"No, enough of that. You're not gonna hurt me by telling me what actually happened. Now what did he do?"

She looked at the carpet as tears started to form again, "I-I um, well, you have to understand, he wouldn't stop punching you after you passed out. I-I thought he was gonna kill you, and- and I took my knife and I had it on his throat. But- well, you see, he's stronger than me and we were fighting for it and he um... he cut me with it."

Her voice cracked and she wiped a few more tears, "I was pinned to the ground, I couldn't move and he was hard and- and pressed against me andIdon'tknowwhathewasgonnado."

"I'm gonna fucking kill him," Steve shook his head, "C'mere."

Annie wrapped her arms around Steve, sobbing into his chest, "I- you can't! He-he'll kill you first!"

"Hey, I'm fine," he said, holding her close, but making sure that if she needed to move away she could.

Annie looked up at Steve, "Have you seen yourself?"

"Okay, that's rude," he said, rubbing circles in her back, "But no one gets to do that shit to you... and I'm sorry I wasn't-"

"Don't do that. It's not your fault and I'd do it all over again if it saved you."

Steve frowned, looking over the cut on her cheek again, "I know, and I also know that I don't know you that well, but we've been through enough that you can come to me with anything."

"Thanks..." she said, unsure of what was left to be say, so she pulled back from him.

He stood up, offering a hand to help her stand that she took, "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

She simply nodded, pulling Steve's jacket around herself. It was something that didn't smell like Billy. Her clothes smelled like him still. No, she didn't love that the jacket smelled like demodogs or the Upside Down, but it was the better option.

Soon enough, Annie was under the shower head in Steve's bathroom. He was out in the bedroom and he promised he wouldn't leave in case she needed anything. Though, even if she did need something, she doubted that she would ask anything. After everything tonight, he had helped her enough. More importantly, she wasn't about to have him do anything when he was so injured. He should be in a hospital right now, but she knew he probably wouldn't hear it if she tried to push it.

Instead of thinking about that, her focus was scrubbing off everything from that day that she possibly could. Those demodogs, Billy, the tunnels, almost dying, almost watching other people die, everything she could think of. No amount of soap was enough to make her forget or enough to make her feel clean either.

Nevertheless, Annie made sure to go through her long, dark hair with two latherings of shampoo and she scrubbed her skin until some parts were raw. It wasn't until the water started to turn cold that she finally stopped the shower. None of it was enough.

There was steam on the mirror that she wiped away to get a good look at herself. As cliche as it was, Annie couldn't recognize the person in front of her to save her life. Her eyes just looked so dead and haunted. Of all the things that got her, it had to be this one night.

A little bit longer and Annie was back in Steve's room in pajama pants and an over-sized t-shirt. Steve sat on the edge of the bed and patted the spot next to him. She sat there, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

"You should be asleep," she said, looking down.

Steve shrugged, pulling his arm away when he moved to put an arm around her, "Didn't know where you'd wanna sleep. You know, if you wanted a guest room or something."

"Mhm... well, I don't wanna be alone for tonight. If you don't mind."

"Not at all, that's fine. I'll just take the floor."

Annie scoffed, "Absolutely not. You've got a concussion on top of getting dumped and almost dying. The least you deserve is to sleep in your own bed."

"Yeah, well- well you're the guest and so you get the bed," he insisted.

She thought a minute before sighing, "Then we should just share the bed."

"Sorry, what?!"

Annie laughed a bit, "I'm not about to let you sleep on the floor and you're not gonna let up either. We may as well just share. Your bed's large enough for both of us to have our own sides. It's not a huge deal."

"Oh, well, when you put it like that, yeah, I guess you're right."

It was settled and they were both soon under the covers. Before this, Annie didn't realize just how exhausted she felt. She was turned so her back was facing Steve, and she hoped he was already asleep.

Sleep came to her so quickly and before she knew it, there was already sunlight in the room. They never turned off the lights, but Annie was quick to turn over and go back to sleep for a little while longer. Admittedly, she was a bit sore in places, and she couldn't imagine how Steve felt.

Upon officially waking up, Annie was finally able to look around Steve's room. It was something she had been too preoccupied to do the night before. Needless to say, the matching plaid curtains and walls were less than appealing. The bowling pin on his desk stood out to her the most. She sat up to ask Steve, but realized she was the only one in the room.

She headed downstairs, bowling pin in hand, where she could hear someone in the kitchen. Already aware that the Harringtons were rarely home, she automatically assumed it was Steve. He was the person she saw upon reaching the kitchen. He had yet to notice her presence and was humming to himself as he worked on breakfast. It seemed to be pancakes, and she stood by the wall and watched for a little bit.

"Um... care to explain this?" Annie asked.

Steve jumped ten feet in the air, "Jesus Christ, Annie! You can't sneak up on me like that!"

"Sorry, I thought you would've heard me, but seriously, what's with this?" she said, waving the bowling pin.

He shrugged, "What about it?"

"What's it doing in your room? Your room, by the way, is a total wreck! I don't know how you deal with those walls and curtains. This pin doesn't even make sense, like, do you bowl or some shit?"

He looked at her and suddenly had a rather somber look on his face, "Well, the bowling pin was my grandpa's. After he came back from the war... well, he took up bowling and that pin was his most prized possession."

"You're kidding me."

He glared, "I would never kid about that! It's really important, it makes me think I can accomplish anything."

"Oh shit, well, jeez, I'm sorry I feel like such a dick."

Then Steve started laughing, "I got you good! Admit it, book girl!"

"Oh, you suck!" she exclaimed, lightly hitting him with the bowling pin.

It seemed to be an unspoken agreement between both of them to not say anything about what happened the night before. They weren't survivors of awful circumstances, but rather a couple of good friends simply hanging out over the weekend. Neither would bring up the demodogs or tunnels unless the other one did first.

Besides, none of that was important at the moment. They deserved a break from that. If having some pancakes and making some coffee was the first step in processing everything, Annie was fine with that. A part of her was aware that not talking about this was what screwed Steve over with Nancy, but if they both seemed content to not say anything, she figured they would be fine. After all, they were just friends hanging out.

"What do you want in your coffee?" she asked, pouring two cups before going to get some milk and sugar.

Steve shrugged, "I just take it black. You know, it's best that way."

"If you say so," she said, handing him a mug.

As she fixed up her own cup, she watched as Steve went to take a solid drink from the mug. He didn't swallow, but instead rushed to the sink to spit it out. Annie couldn't stop herself from laughing.

"If you didn't like coffee, you could've just said," she laughed.

Steve gave a frustrated sigh, "No, it's... I've never had it before."

"Then you don't wanna have it black," she replied, taking his mug and fixing it with a fair amount of milk and sugar, "Now try."

This time, Steve took a tentative sip before nodding, "You're good at that."

"Thanks," she smiled, "I've always thought it was better that way."

A few hours later and Annie was doing a bit of damage control regarding Steve getting dumped. It only officially happened around twelve hours before, and he really had loved her. She had no problem with hugging him whenever he started crying when they tried watching a movie. It didn't help that he would complain about having a headache either. They could watch movies another time, though.

If only Nancy had some idea of the pain she had caused, Annie wasn't sure that would have even been enough for her. Of course, it was hard to watch Steve go through what he had and not think that he didn't deserve so much better. As douchey as the school tried to make him sound, she didn't see it.

She let out a small sigh, "You know what I think you need?"

"What?" he asked, looking at her with red eyes.

She got up and went to her bag and dug around before pulling out a mix-tape, "Some good, old-fashioned breakup music."

"I thought I told you to bring important stuff with you."

"My mix-tapes are very important."

"You forgot a jacket."

"Would you shut up and let me put this in your boombox? I promise this is gonna be super therapeutic."

He scoffed, "And you know that how?"

"Hey, before you got dumped by Nancy, I've had many failed relationships!"

Annie popped in a tape titled, "just got dumped, send help!" and pressed play. There was a grin on her face when she heard the opening notes for "Mamma Mia" fill Steve's room. He simply looked up from the bed and stared at her.

"Come on, I know you know the words!" she pressed, going to pull him up from the bed.

Steve rolled his eyes, "I don't know ABBA."

"You know their name, come on, you don't have anyone to impress," she said.

That was all it took to get him to at least sing along to the chorus with her. Just like she suspected, he knew the song. They both danced around the room to the remainder of the song before flopping back on his bed, laughing.

It was easier to just dance around and sing in their pajamas much to her cat's chagrin. There wasn't much they could say to each other that would really express how they felt about what they went through. Instead, they just sat around Steve's room, knowing that he probably wasn't in any shape to do much for the next day at the very least. That was fine with the both of them, though. All of this beat being alone by a long shot.

Taglist (if you wanna be added, please tell me!!!): @dungeons-and-demodogs @jxnehxpper @ilovebucketbarnes

#steve harrington #steve harrington x original character #steve harrington x oc #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things 3 #stranger things 2 #stranger things x original character #stranger things x oc #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington angst #stranger things angst #hurt/comfort #dfean?

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dlamp-dictator · 4 years

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Allen Rambles about Episode 6

Man... I’m just never going to actually talk about anything in a timely manner, am I? Every time I say that a Rambling is coming I get distracted and talk about bad anime, other video games, or I draw my OCs for a months on end and forget all my drafts exist.

And since Children of Ursus... dense, to say the least, I’ll just finish up this draft of Episode 6 and hopefully get on some kind of proper schedule for October... hopefully.

So, Chapter 6 came out... month ago, and I’ve been meaning to talk about for some time. Honestly, I have more criticisms than praises for this episode, but there are a few good points worth talking about.

But first, as usual, a synopsis.

To keep things simple, Episode 6 focuses on the joint operation between the Hong Kong Lungmen Guard Department and the Rhodes Island Pharmaceutical Company. After Episode 5, Rhodes Island finally rendezvoused with Ch’en’s detachment in Lungmen and the two groups come up with a game plan to take out the Reunion troops in the city. Ch’en focusing on the slums and a few key locations while Rhode Island takes out the commanders, namely Frostnova, Faust, and Mephisto.

That’s the basic summary of things, but things go a little deeper.

The Story

A looong while ago I said Code of Brawl contained the best and worst aspect of Arknights. Episode 6 really shows what can be bad about it.

Okay, I’m being a little unfair since this latest Episode just pails in comparison to 5, but it’s still a little disappointing. My main issues are the disjointed story arcs and the attempted at humanizing Reunion, but before I get to that let me just go over all the little things first, just so I can clear the air of all the nitpicks and not accidentally make a 500-word segment about minor things. With that said...

Small Things that Only Bug Allen

Blaze gives Greythroat shit for reasons that seemed to have happened off screen. This makes her seem really catty (pardon the pun) toward Greythroat for no reason aside from assumed slights and weakens Greythroat’s later character growth as we don’t see her show hatred or prejudice toward the infect, not in the same way as Ch’en in Episode 2-ish.

The Doctor’s role as a self-insert really harms more scenes than helps. A lot of moments where they’re the focus feel flat since they don’t have a real personality to play off of. Just for example, imagine if Amiya was trapped in with Frostnova instead of the Doctor, I could see a much stronger chance to characterize both characters in that situation.

Gavial was mentioned several times in this Episode and didn’t get any dialogue. How dare you not give Gavial screentime.

This Episode has proven that Amiya is canonically a 14-year-old loli and in charge of a total not private military company, no I swear, those soldiers are just for CC and special ops don’t think about it too much Silverash is just a CEO of a company stop asking questions.

This isn’t a story complaint, but 6-16 was a bitch to get through. The randomness of Frostnova’s AI combined with that high damaging AoE attack just kills it for me (and half my units).

And while on gameplay, Stage 6-17 was really dumb and its only redeeming value is a free Originite Prime. I get the narrative point of it, but it’s still dumb.

Okay, so with the small stuff out of the way let’s hit the big issues, starting with...

The Disjointed Arcs

So... this Episode wanted to explain Frostnova’s backstory, explain Mephisto and Faust’s backstory, introduce GreyThroat and Blaze while giving them a character arc, further Ch’en’s character arc, humanize Reunion, do world-building on Lungmen society, reveal a political conspiracy of Lungmen that dates back years before the main story, kick-start what I pray isn’t a redemption arc for Mephisto (that’s a Rambling in itself), hint at Crownslayer’s backstory, hint at Talaluh’s backstory, and possibly reveal some stuff about Ursus.

And folks... that’s too much for one Episode to handle.

Compared to Episode 5, which just focused on Ch’en and the LGD, this was just a mess, there’s no two ways about. They were trying to do too much and front-loaded a lot of the important bits toward the end. I really wish they only tried to do two or three things on that list instead of 10 things. Arknights has a bad habit of trying to tell too much in the limited time it has our attention. Episode 4 was guilty of this, elements of Operation Intelligence was guilty of this, and even Code of Brawl has hints of this issue too by trying to hint at Mostima’s backstory while giving Bison and some other characters an arc. I get that they’re trying to lay the ground work for future events and story points, but this is really just too much, at least for one episode.

But speaking of things that are too much...

Humanizing Reunion

This is what really grabs my goat. I’m conflicted on how to feel about the attempt to humanize Reunion and add grey morality to their role as antagonist. My original draft had said this was a bad thing, since Mephisto is so cartoonishly evil any attempts at redemption feel flimsy, but... I think it could work.

The main issue of trying to humanize Reunion is that our introduction to them was Mephisto, who is so far down the moral spectrum that it’s impossible to think he or the faction he represents are redeemable. However, characters like Faust, Skullshatterer, and Frostnova are much more reasonable/understandable in their motives. Skullshatterer is ruthless to his enemies, but kind to his soldiers, and his ruthlessness is really only on the battlefield. Faust is essentially Mephisto’s leash, and just tries to reign in his evil while protecting him. Frostnova just wants to have a home for her Yetis and doesn’t care what side she has to join in order to get it, though she has her doubts about Talaluh.

This is fine by itself, but due to all the evils of Mephisto and the cruelty he’s done to Rhodes Island, Lungmen, and Ursus, it makes it really hard to see Mephisto as the exception instead of the norm for Reunion’s methods. It makes Faust’s death and Mephisto’s devastation of it feel flat since, frankly, the brat’s cocky attitude got his friend killed, and he’s just getting what he deserved. He’s killed and tortured too many for anyone to really feel sympathy toward him. When even Amiya calls Mephisto a bastard, there’s really no redemption, and while Episode 6 doesn’t try to redeem I’ve seen enough anime to know they might try and make it broken state seem more sympathetic than it should be.

Which leads nicely into Frostnova, who’s arc was done very well by my standards. While I personally think giving her solo time with the Doctor was more detrimental than helpful, it worked well enough to show she wasn’t a monster like Mephisto. It gave us some time to understand the motivations of the Yeti Squad and sympathizes with their goals of finding a home, gave us a nice hook for when Patriot comes around in full after being teased in both Episode 4 and Operation Intelligence, and if this Episode only focused on that I’d say it was a good story over all.

But... Episode 6 wanted to also hint at so much more that it was suffocating. I’ll at least say that Ch’en’s segments were fine and move on.

Gameplay

I’m going to keep this as short as I can since the story section was the big thing I wanted to talk about. However, there are a few things I want to mention in terms of the game.

6-7 was probably the best chapter in the game so far. I loved how they gave you an team already with most of them at E2. It was a great way for people without GreyThroat and Blaze and test them out. It let you see how some Operators you might have ignored perform at a higher level. It gave you a hint at where you should be at the point of this level, and the for the lore nerd it gives us a good idea on how an official team is structured for high-level missions. I’d love to see more missions like this in the future where they give you a ‘canon’ team already and have you work out the puzzle of who goes where and when.

6-16 is probably the worst. Frostnova having high stats and a second stage I understand, but so much of that map relies on getting around the randomness of what tiles she knocks out and praying you can survive her massive AoE attack in her second phase. My entire team was E2 Level 30 and it took me over ten tries to 2-star that stage. I was using a guide too. A lot of that map revolved around just praying Frostnova didn’t bonk out certain tiles or praying that her AoE attack didn’t randomly proc at a bad time. There is way too much left to chance on her stage.

General Gushing

I think that’s enough critique, let’s get to some happy stuff and talk about the things I enjoyed.

Blaze’s cattiness aside, I liked her a lot. She’s confident, she spontaneous, she’s... basically a rowdy housecat. Seeing more elite operators would be nice so Rhode Island feels like an actual force with some power and order and less ragtag.

Ch’en character arc is shaping up nicely, her barging into Wei’s office to chew him out gave me the largest grin.

Amiya’s whole speech to Wei was just great as well, really reminds you she is the top executive of Rhode Island for a reason... despite being a 14-year-old bunny loli.

Everyone mildly talking about Gavial makes me really curious about seeing her speak and act in the story. She seems like a feared woman to be sure. I’m we’ll be getting her event somewhere down the line.

Faust and Frostnova’s death, as forced as they felt, were genuinely sad and made me feel something. It gave the series a bit more weight to it.

Speaking of, Faust and GreyThroat had some pretty nice parallels, both Crossbowmen fighting for causes they’re initially apathetic toward save for a very small handful of people. Mephisto for Faust, and Amiya for GreyThroat.

“She jumped down?!” “She jumped down...” Best exchanged in the game so far.

Like Code of Brawl, save for some of the bullshit maps that just spammed the strongest, hardest-hitting units (yes, I do mean 6-5) I found a lot of the maps required some creative thinking. Despite this Episode needing E2 units, my E1 Vigna was the MVP of most stages. Ethan as well, as I didn’t have Manticore at the time and his damage of time skill and AoE damage really made those chokepoints work.

In the Future

As always, I don’t like the idea of fixing something that’s already out, but asking for future changes seems reasonable. To that end, I hope Episode 7 is focused on only 2 or three characters with little distraction. Episode 5 was great not because it focused on a fan-favorite character, but because it was a solid character arc for that one character. So far we have Ch’en and Amiya getting ready to maybe stop a war between Lungmen and Ursus, so let’s focus on these two characters. Amiya maybe finding out that Ch’en is slowly becoming Infected and helping her come to terms with that. Ch’en revealing her past to Amiya and the two connecting over losing so many close to them due to Oripathy. The two standing up to the political corruption of Lungmen, shoulder to shoulder, as women that refuse to see another life lost due to the indifference of a city’s politics.

And no bullshit maps like 6-5 too.

Anyway, that’ll do it for me. I’m... off to write some more essays and get a queue going.

#arknights #your dictator is speaking

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justsomewritingsandshit · 5 years

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The Struggles of a Male Veela (Part 5 - Selene’s Got A Date)

Louis Weasley x Soulmate!OC

Length: 3190 words

Warnings: soulmate!au, altered ages of next gen, female OC, Hunter Parrish as Louis, fxf date, mentions of sAd bOI hOuRs

Part 5 of this series | Masterlist | Part 4 | Part 6

Selene has never been fussy when it comes to dating – for her, (so long as the person expressed an interest, didn’t seem oddly clingy, or overly possessive) anyone was game. So, when the attractive Mari Singh (of Ravenclaw house) asked her out… well, she said yes.

Mari and Selene had been ‘classroom friends’ for years, so she had supposed it wouldn’t be too uncomfortable. Their rapport was friendly enough, and Mari was an attractive girl, so there was no real reason to say no.

Plus, Selene happened to know that she was the first girl that Mari had asked out since her coming out over the summer. Selene felt that she had a sort of duty to treat Mari to a wonderful time, setting a good example of what Mari should look for in a partner, should she choose to date again. Too many people let themselves be in bad circumstances, simply because it’s all they knew, and Selene wouldn’t let Mari’s kind soul be one of those. Selene wished she’d had a person do the same for her, when she was younger. It would have saved her a lot of broken hearts.

In the end, the two girls arranged it for their date to be the first Hogsmeade trip, which was on the last day of the month. The two of them were going to end up spending their entire time there making awkward but friendly conversation, and drinking butterbeers – there was never much to do in Hogsmeade, after all.

If anyone was asked to go off and experience Hogsmeade, they’d come back and say that it felt as if the village had been unchanged for hundreds of years. Contradicting that analysis was the known fact that many of the buildings were only two decades old, as some of them had to be repaired after the war. And, the war memorials and plaques in the middle of the village were only a few years old themselves.

Despite the newer builds, the town was one of the oldest magic-only communities in the United Kingdom – there were much older communities in remote areas of South America, Asia, and in concealed tribes all throughout Africa, though. There wasn’t much to the small town, just a joke shop, a sweet store, a few small trinket shops, a pub or two – basically; nothing much for the teens whose only chance at an off-campus activity was a monthly trip there.

So, yeah, dating at Hogwarts was kind of the worst.

Louis didn’t find out about the date, until what he would consider the last minute.

On the eve of Halloween (a Friday that was surprisingly mild for the season), Selene and Louis found themselves once again at their usual haunt – a large, wooden table located in the back of the ginormous hall that was the library.

Said teens were staring intensely at the parchments clasped in their respective hands. Louis’s happened to be a letter from his mother, a long winded one that was reminding him to try and ‘stretch’ in his veela form weekly – the fact that she went on to describe how it may feel similar to a female’s period was why he was contemplating an attempt at trying to burn it with his gaze. Selene’s parchment held the notes that she’d taken down in Charms earlier that day – at that moment, they weren’t making any sense to her.

“Louis? This new Charms stuff, I don’t get it. Help me out over here?” Selene’s interruption was received warmly by Louis, as Fleur Weasley (nee Delacour) had, in her lengthy letter, began to describe the severity of her monthly flow to her teenaged son.

“Go ahead.” Louis eagerly ditched his parchment to the side, one-hundred-percent ready to never read it, ever again. “Was it the wandless stuff we started this week? On Tuesday?”

Selene sent him a confirming nod, going into her dilemma, “If I’m casting a charm like ‘protego totalum’, how am I supposed to control what I’m casting it on? It’s, uh, pretty important that it’s cast on the right thing.”

Louis was momentarily distracted by the way her brows furrowed together in obvious confusion, sending his mind spiralling. By the time he managed to force his stupid veela brain to focus, he realised that he had succeeded in the task of being weirdly silent for close to a minute. If there was a wizard-god, then Louis prayed to them that Selene would just think he was seriously contemplating her question and coming to a slow conclusion. “I guess it could be one of those charms that are always going to require a wand. Or, you can just think super hard while casting.” Louis let out a breathy chuckle.

Entertaining this thought, Selene muttered, “I don’t know what wizard-kind did before they realised they could use a wand.”, as she flipped over her parchment.

It hadn’t been a real question, but none the less it had amused Louis to think up an answer to it. He chuckled, crossing his arms on the table to rest on, “I can just imagine it was a bunch of people awkwardly performing ‘accidental magic’, like when we were kids.”

His words caused Selene to laugh too, as she pictured people in old-timey clothes waving their arms accidentally and setting something on fire. “The first person to use a wand must have been like; ‘what?’!” Selene’s face got slightly warmer, as her breathing was interrupted by her chortles, “They were like ‘Bartholomew,” Louis had to cover his mouth in order to hide the snort of laughter he produced at Selene’s excellent impression of the ‘Bloody Baron’. His uncle’s impression was nothing on hers. “Thou hast pick-ethed up a stick, which doth work well-eth’ at mastering thoust powers’.”

Both of them had stomach cramps, trying to contain their laughter. Louis had tears building up in his eyes, and his face was turning red. Selene had doubled over, laughing mostly silently, the only sound being her inhaled breath and the slapping of her had against her knee. Their ‘quiet’ laughter was eventually drowned out by the librarian’s shrill cry of, “Get out of my library if you’re not going to follow the rules!”

Hurriedly, the two of them pack up all their belongings, erupting into occasional giggles every time the two caught each other’s eyes. They burst from the library’s entrance, and the Gryffindor and Slytherin stumbled along the large corridor. By the time they’d reached the end of the long hallway, they both decided it was best for them to start making their way to their respective common rooms.

There was calm silence for ten minutes.

Eventually it was broken. “So…” Louis’s shoulders were hunched over a little, his hands looking as if he’d shoved them as deep as he could, into the pockets of his school trousers. Making himself look smaller was his main way of coming off across nonchalant. However, the only thing he looked, was uncomfortable. “The, uh, first Hogsmeade trip is tomorrow. Are, um…” He paused to inhale some confidence, “Are you going to go?” Louis wanted so bad to shout out, to ask (or even beg) her to go with him on this trip. The sixth-year could imagine it now; the two of them wander the lanes of Hogsmeade together, their noses getting redder the longer that they’re out in the cold… their breath visible and intermingling, as they get closer and closer… maybe, a kiss? Oh, Louis wanted nothing more than that.

“Yeah, I-” Selene argued with herself. She shouldn’t have felt uncomfortable (awkward?) telling Louis about her upcoming date… and yet, she did. Which was absurd, because they were friends! “Uh… Actually, I have a date.” Merlin, Selene’s stomach squirmed. She felt awful admitting this to Louis, even though there was no need to, at all. Her nerves made her ramble, “With Mari Singh, from Ravenclaw. I think she’s in your Transfiguration class?” Selene went on, her mouth moving a mile a minute, but Louis heard none of it.

The blonde boy felt like he’d been physically hurt, despite knowing he certainly had absolutely no true right to feel as pained as he did. Selene Morgenstern was his soulmate, sure, but she didn’t know that. He hadn’t informed her that destiny (and, he guesses; his veela instincts) had fated them to be together. Plus, he was pretty sure that he hadn’t let on about his romantic feelings towards her either.

The Slytherin was her own person, and as such; allowed to date whomever she wanted…

But Louis was allowed to be upset about it. Even if it was irrational to be so. Boys (well, really, he’d insist that he was closer to a man, now) could be emotional too! However, he wasn’t going to expose said hurt feelings to Selene. He was upset by her words, but they were just friends… just friends, even if he did have different sentiments towards her.

Everything Louis Weasley had been taught by his family as a child was blooming into fruition in this moment; good friends support their friends – no matter the personal consequences.

As if the gods above had granted him lee-way, Louis’s turning to go up to the Gryffindor Common Room was fast approaching. “Well, uh, you have a great time! I’ll see you later!” Hastily exiting the situation seemed to be the only way to end this conversation, plus Louis was finding that his eyes were quickly filling with tears, and he didn’t want Selene to see them.

“Uh, thanks, Louis! See you!” Frantically waving at the back of the already turned-away boy was not the way a cool and collected Slytherin behaved. For love of Merlin, why was she acting like this? In true Slytherin sentiment, Selene ignored the way her stomach clenched up the moment Louis was out of sight. “Ugh, I need to get more sleep.”

Louis spent that night clutching his pillows tightly to his trembling body, desperately trying to not burst into his veela form. It was exhaustingly difficult to hold on to his human form, as his veela’s desire to fly away from all the pain he was facing was almost too powerful. The teen was virtually bursting at the seams, due to the effort it took to hold back this side of him.

His heart felt like it was under an intense pressure, as if it was being compressed. And his skin was positively feverish! Every pore along his body was asking for relief. Every muscle fibre itching for some form of freedom that only his veela form could give to him.

And to think, Louis had bitterly mused to himself, all this because I’m jealous. Louis knew, deep down, that he had no true reason to be jealous, or hurt, or sad, or angry. Selene was not his. Not his girlfriend, nor anything more than his close friend! The girl was her own woman. One who can decide for herself who she wants to love, and whom she wants to date.

Still… His acknowledgement of this fact did not miraculously send him into recovery.

Louis remained lonesome and feverish through the night.

There was a problem with Selene’s date.

Or, rather; there was a problem with Mari Singh – well, not really.

Okay, so the issue was with Selene. She was positively sure that there were a dozen other places she’d rather be, than on this date with Mari. The Slytherin clearly did not feel one iota of a romantic stirring towards the bird.

Now, that’s not to say the other girl was not lovely! Mari was smart, pretty, and rather funny - an all-around kind person.

Still, Selene found herself wishing that she was not the one opposite the Ravenclaw in the Three Broomsticks. And, that wasn’t to say it was an awful date! Not at all. It was a… nice affair. They talked over a butterbeer, and giggled at each other’s stories... And, yes; the conversation had been (sometimes) intelligent and (somewhat?) interesting.

Selene just felt like something was missing from it all, though.

“I was like; ‘why does this always happen to him?’!” Mari let out a chortle at her own story. It was a rather long-winded, yet deeply hilarious, anecdote of her families’ latest vacation. Her father apparently fell off a dinghy that the whole family had been sitting in, right into the arms of what may have been a hairy man (or, perhaps, a large bear), whilst not even in the water yet. “Anyway…”

The two female students had slowly been making their way back to the castle. And, now they were standing at the crossroads of where they’d each have to turn away to go to their separate common rooms.

Before Mari could even say anything else, Selene had to be honest with her, “Mari, I had a nice time today, but, uh, I have to be frank with you… I like you as a friend, Mari, but I-” Selene paused, to place her hand on the Ravenclaw’s shoulder and to carefully choose her following words. “I, um, I don’t feel for you, romantically that is.” Mari’s face began to crumble, “I’m sorry, but I had to be honest with you. It would be cruel for me to get your hopes up like that. You’re my friend but sparing your feelings now would only hurt you later. Right?”

Mari mulled the words over, but finally nodded her head softly.

Selene removed her palm from the other girls’ shoulder. She felt obliged to offer up some information that might soften the blow she’d just been dealt, “Plus, it wouldn’t be fair to Naomi…”

Mari’s head tilted to her left, “Gnomes?” It was a cute nickname Mari had for her roommate, fellow Ravenclaw Naomi Gardener. “W-Why would it be unfair to her?”

Selene heard the thinly veiled excitement in her voice. It was well-known within the female population of their respective year-group, that Naomi Gardner fancied Mari Singh. It was true that pretty much everyone knew that, but only Selene heard said information first-hand from Naomi. “Well, Naomi may have mentioned something to me… But it’s probably best to ask her about it.” She leant forward, pressing a friendly peck to Mari’s cheek, “Thank you for a lovely time, Mar.” Sending a wink to the girl, Selene began to walk away. “I hope we’re still friends, Mari! Good luck!”

Louis didn’t expect to see Selene the next morning.

Not because he assumed that something… like that... would happen between the two girls. No, not at all! Rather, Louis was surprised to see Selene, since he had decided to try to avoid her altogether.

Also, the idea of seeing her in the boys’ bathroom was incredibly surprising.

“Um, hello?”

Carefully, Louis angled his entire body away from the approaching teenaged girl. As quick as he could he tucked himself away and buttoned up his trousers. Due to his complexion, the flush on his cheeks was all too visible. Even knowing she could see the blush; he tried his best to act casual as he walked over to wash his hands. Selene was in his peripherals the entire time.

“So,” Louis shook his hands out, getting them dry enough to wipe against the fabric against his thighs – he didn’t even think about using his magic or wand to dry them. “Uh, what brings you to the men’s bathroom?” Before he could embarrass himself, he tucked his hands into the back pockets of his trousers. It was an attempt to seem casual.

Selene let a faux look of sadness creep onto her face, “Well, when I saw you practically running down the hallway when you saw me coming, I figured I should check on you.” She rested her shoulder on the wall to her right, “After all, I am a good friend.”

Louis’s was sure that his heart was going to jump out of his chest. Even though he knew that she was being a nice person, a great friend, his veela hindbrain was absolutely screaming at him. Surely that meant she was accepting the bond! Checking on her mate, right? Merlin! Louis had to snap himself out of those thoughts, because they weren’t facts. He knew first-hand that not thinking truthfully only damaged your own feelings.

“I- I just,” Louis was tongue-tied now. How exactly could he explain that he didn’t want to hear about her amazing date with bloody Mari Singh? “Well-”

Selene cut him off, not wanting to hear any of his poor attempts at lying to her, “I wanted to vent to you, about my date last night.” She rushed out first, before pausing. The Slytherin was gathering herself, choosing her next words carefully. “It was alright.”

The male noticed the lack of enthusiasm in her description of the event. His stomach lurched in awkward excitement.

She let out a quiet laugh, “You know… I was going to talk to Emmaline about it all, but-” Her head lolled to the side as she thought hard, “But I don’t know, I just-” Eventually, Selene pushed off the wall she was leaning on and strolled closer to the him. “I guess I just really wanted to talk to you.”

Louis was sure that he wasn’t breathing. “Oh.” In fact, he was pretty sure that he hadn’t been breathing for Selene’s entire speech. “Okay. Yeah... Alright.” Taking his hand from his pocket, he gestured over towards the exit of the bathroom, “Shall we, then?” Yes, that was normal. If only his heartbeat could chill out, too.

Luckily for them, there was only one first year in the otherwise empty hallway. Said single first year awkwardly still stood, deer-in-headlights-style, as they witnessed the two elder teens exit the boy’s’ bathroom together.

“So,” Louis was trying his best to seem calm, “It didn’t go well?” He paused, before clarifying, “Your date, I mean.”

The two of them were back in the school’s library. It was during a shared free period of theirs, and like always Selene and Louis were nestled together at their table. Heads were pushed closer to one another than strictly needed, both attempting to talk as quietly – they were in fear of the librarian, who had already given them both the most scathing look when they’d walked in talking.

“No, it was fine.” Selene answered him, her lips twisting into a grimace as she thought over the date, “Nothing awful, it just - it didn’t feel right.” She played with the quill in her hand, “I guess when I’m on a date, I want it to feel nicer than a ‘fine’ or ‘alright’.”

Louis nodded, understanding what she meant. “True.” There was silence as the blond wrote down a sentence or two on his parchment. He could feel the tingle of Selene’s eyes watching him do so. “So,” He began again, “No second date, then?”

Selene averted her eyes from his form, pretending that she didn’t catch him observing her from the very corner of his eye. “Not with Mari, no.” She looked down to her work, and unbeknownst to her Louis did as well.

Both had smiles on their faces.

TAGGED:

@iamwarrenspeace, @itsnolongerteen, @stilesloverdaily, @immortalmurphy, @fandomsandotherstuff, @mcheung0314, @aw-hawkeye, @glimmering-darling-dolly, @thenodmonster, @realgreglestrade, @seninjakitey, @theshortegg, @gqlqxies, @footballiskillingme

#louis weasley #louis weasley imagine #LouisWeasley #louisweasleyimagine #louis weasley x oc #not reader insert #hp imagine #next generation #next generation harry potter #next gen harry potter #nextgen!#harry potter imagine #hunterparrish #Hunter Parrish #the struggles of a male veela series #the struggles of a male veela #series #harry potter series #harry potter

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shawnsjustso · 5 years

Text

Remember

Genre: Angst

Pairing: Shawn Mendes x OC

Length: 2.5k words

warnings: implied character death, depression, language

He spoke of her like an artist would talk about his most prized painting. She was his muse, and everyone knew it. When they stood next to each other, he looked down at her as if she put the stars in the sky - no - as if she were the sun, and everything in his world revolved around her. It did.

He often wishes Alyssa could see herself the same way he sees her. He remembers the first night he met her. He’d needed some air, tired of being cooped up at home, feeling like he may tear his own hair out if he sat on his couch for another five minutes. She’d seemed to melt into the darkness when he first spotted her sitting on the side of a bridge he often walked toward when he needed time to think.

“Excuse me, is everything alright?” He’d asked, noticing damp lines across her cheeks from what he assumed to be her crying. She jumped slightly, before turning toward him and quickly wiping her cheeks.

“God, you scared me. I’m okay, thank you though.”

“You don’t have to lie to me, you know,” He’d said as he sat next to her, but not too closely. He didn’t want to scare her. “I get it. Why would we be out at 2:30 in the morning if everything was okay? May as well vent to a stranger, right? I mean hell, I just found out I’m going to get fired from my job. Needed to get out, to breathe.”

He can still remember how she looked when he said that, shocked at his openness with her. If he was being honest, he was shocked as well. He had no clue why he was opening up to this complete stranger on a bridge at 2:34 in the morning. It was silent for a long moment. He’d begun to think she’d forgotten what he’d said.

“I was thinking about jumping,” She’d whispered to him after a few minutes. He turned to look at her, prepared to meet her eyes. But when he looked, he was met with the sight of her staring down into the water, as if she were waiting for something to jump out and pull her in. He stayed silent, watching her hair that had fallen in front of her face move with the breeze. “I couldn’t do it, though. I never can.”

He had reached out and held her hand, but didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. They ended up going back to his house, letting their bodies become one. It was exactly what they’d both needed.

He remembers the first time he found her in the bathroom, pressed against the side of the tub, her knees pulled so tightly into her chest he thinks he’s never seen anyone look so small. She was gasping for air in between her sobs, and he was able to see her hands trembling against her legs. He doesn’t think he’s ever pulled someone into his arms so quickly. He didn’t say anything, he knew he couldn’t say anything to make it better. He only held her as she cried, her small form wrapped in his arms on the bathroom floor.

He remembers the first time she’d yelled at him. They were having a good day. He could have sworn she was glowing. She was wearing one of his sweaters along with shorts and long socks, her hair in the most beautiful messy bun he’d ever seen. They were dancing around the kitchen, washing dishes and kissing each other every chance they had. It was when she was drying one of his wine glasses. She turned too quickly and had lost her grip on it, the sound of breaking glass filling the room when it hit the cold linoleum floor.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, let me clean it up,” She had rambled out, quickly kneeling to the ground and picking up the pieces of broken glass, cursing when she cut herself. He had dropped to his knees quickly, taking her hand in his, raising it to inspect the wound.

“Are you alright?”

She quickly nodded, pulling her hand from his as if it burned her. She mumbled something about not touching her, holding her hand to her chest. He barely noticed, only worried about getting her cleaned up. He pulled her arm toward him again, this time accidentally pulling her sleeve up in the process. “Alyssa, what’s this?” He’d asked, a pit settling in the bottom of his stomach as he stared at the lines littering her arm. She stood, tearing her arm from him once again.

“I said don’t fucking touch me, Shawn! Can’t you fucking listen?” She yelled at him, her entire body trembling. “Jesus Christ, you’d think you’d have enough respect for my wishes, but I guess not!”

“Alyssa, please, I didn’t mean to-”

“No, of course you didn’t. You just didn’t listen to me. God, why can’t I have control over anything anymore? I feel like I’m going crazy! I have no control over fucking anything in my life and I just want to find something I can fucking do on my own. But I can’t, Shawn. I fucking can’t! I’m at a loss here, I’m so very lost, and I don’t know what to do about it anymore,” she was sobbing now, the broken glass long forgotten as he picked her up into his arms and led her into the other room. He simply sat there while she cried hard, angry sobs into his chest, gripping his shirt so tightly in her fingers he knows it’s ruined, but he didn’t care.

“Oh, honey,” he’d whispered, kissing the top of her head and rubbing her back as she slowed her cries.

He remembered when things were getting better. She had started therapy again, he was working again, and she had found a new outlet for her emotions: writing. She wrote in a journal every night before she went to bed, and he thinks he’s never seen her look more beautiful than she does with her glasses perched on her nose and her hair in a messy ponytail while the soft yellow light of her lamp illuminated her outline. Every day was a new “come over” that moved into her staying the night as his place, or vice versa, until she had her drawer of her things at his apartment. Every day was filled with laughter and banter, and every night was filled with love and sweet nothings.

He remembers the first time they said “I love you”. They were doing nothing special, nothing interesting. It was a rainy Saturday in September, so she had come over to spend the weekend with him in his apartment. He was laying in her lap while her fingers carded through his curly hair.

“I love you.”

He remembers feeling her freeze for a moment, before asking “What did you just say?”

“I love you, Alyssa,” Shawn said, lifting himself from her lap and taking her hand. His dark eyes stared into hers. “I love you. I want you to know that I love you.”

“Do you really?” She had asked, tears in her eyes and her cheeks flushing. He simply nodded in response. “I love you too, Shawn. I love you too.” She grinned, and took his head in her hands and pulled his lips against hers. He had been able to feel her smiling against the kiss. He brought his hands from her waist and took her face in his large hands, and just looked at her. He looked at her bright green eyes that were red from crying, her flushed cheeks, her hair thrown lazily over her shoulders, and he swore to himself in that moment that he would never forget how she looked.

He remembers when she moved in with him. They had been dating for a year, and they figured they were ready to take the next step. They loved each other more than anything, and she basically lived in his apartment anyway.

It was a bit of a stressful day, due to how many things they needed to move into his apartment, but they had loved every second of it. They were living together, and he wanted nothing more than for it to be like this for the rest of his life.

“Let’s get married.”

“What?”

“What? I think we should. I love you, you love me, we live together now, I kind of want to live with you for the rest of my life…”

“Only kind of, huh?” She’d asked him, placing her hands on her hips and raising on of her eyebrows. He grinned at her, inching closer to her.

“Only kind of,” He whispered, pulling her into him so he could kiss her, feeling the way her body relaxed into him. She pulled away from him, leaving him whining at the loss of contact and looking at her with a confused expression.

“Okay,” She said, dragging her hand from his hair down the side of his face until it rested on his cheek. “Let’s get married someday.”

He had laughed loudly, picking her up and spinning her around. “I promise you, Ms. Alyssa Rose Sanchez, that I’m going to marry you one day, and I’ll be the best goddamn husband that’s ever walked the earth.”

He remembers when she began to lose herself more and more. She was still functional, they still went on dates, they still made love, and they still talked about everything under the sun. But he could always tell something was bothering her.

“Hey, honey?” He had called to her one night while she was standing in front of their bedroom mirror taking off her makeup. He heard her hum in response, so he sat up on the bed and looked at her reflection. “Is everything okay?” She’s quiet for a moment.

“Of course, love. Why do you ask?” She turned toward him, cocking her head to the side.

“Oh, I just noticed you’ve been kind of spacing out lately, and I know how you get when you begin to fall back into your depression, and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. I worry about you,” Shawn said, holding his arms out to her as an invitation to join him on the bed. She took it, sitting on his lap and tangling her fingers in his hair.

“Baby, I promise I’m okay. I have been struggling a little bit, but I’m stable. I’ve been taking my meds, I’m still seeing my therapist every week, and you know I would come to you if it ever gets bad again. Okay? Please, just trust me. I appreciate you worrying, but I’m fine. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” He sighed, giving her a quick kiss and pulling her down on top of him. When she fell asleep on his chest, he had stayed awake, listening to the sound of her even breaths, and basking in the feeling of having her with him. He knew he could trust her, of course he could trust her! They were open, and they were nothing if not honest with each other.

He remembers another time he found her on the bathroom floor, crying, curled in a ball. He did the same thing he always did. He pulled her small body into his arms and held her while her hard sobs shook her body. He stroked her hair and stayed quiet, knowing him being there spoke a thousand words for her on its own. That’s when he knew she wasn’t fine, she wasn’t okay. Shawn rarely left her side after that day, always keeping an eye on her, but he was careful to not be overbearing.

He remembers when she started taking a different medication. It seemed to help her a lot, to lift her spirits and bring the bounce back into her step. She was positively glowing, and Shawn could have sworn he fell in love with her all over again. Not that he ever fell out of it, not even close.

But he also remembers the day, six months later, he found her on the bathroom floor again. He remembers that she wasn’t crying. She wasn’t sitting against the tub. She wasn’t holding her knees to her chest, she wasn’t shaking, she wasn’t moving at all. The only sign that she had once been moving, once been breathing, was the empty prescription bottle lying next to her.

He remembers feeling his entire body go numb, moving on its own, like he wasn’t controlling it. He remembers calling 911, but he doesn’t remember how he got to the hospital, he doesn’t remember if he remembered to grab her things for her, because he knows when she wakes up, she’ll want to put on her clothes and she’ll want to call her mom and she’ll want to be back to herself. He knows she will. She will.

He remembers watching the doctor call her mother and father into a private area. He remembers watching her mother fall into her husband’s arms, screaming louder than he thinks he’s ever heard someone scream in his life. He didn’t move. He didn’t think. He only had one thing playing in his head.

Shawn remembers the last time he spoke to Alyssa more vividly than he ever knew a memory could be.

“I’ve got a meeting this afternoon, but I promise I’ll be home in time to make us dinner, okay?” He had said, pulling his shoes onto his sock clad feet while she stood in the doorway, softly smiling at him. “I’ve got a really special night planned for us, I swear.” His mind traveled to the small velvet box sitting in his drawer.

“Well, I can’t wait. But, you’ve gotta get to work, baby. You’re gonna be late if you sit here any longer,” She teased, handing him his coat. He knows she’s been sad again. It breaks his heart, but he’s dead set on making her feel better. He pulled her against his chest, holding her tightly.

“I love you so much, Alyssa, you know that?”

“I know, you dork. I love you too,” Alyssa had giggled, brushing her dark hair behind her ear and kissing him more gently than she had in a long time. She pulled back and stared at him, her eyes darting across his face, as if she were studying it, memorizing every small piece of him. “Now get out of here before you get yourself fired for truancy.”

He had only smiled at her and made his way out the door.

Sometimes, Shawn wishes he could just forget, because nothing hurts quite like remembering.

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawnxreader #sm #imagine #fic #writing #angst #tw: death #tw: depression #myownwork

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visionmarred-archive · 5 years

Note

I'm very late but for the NPC questions: 5, 9, 13 for Sashtha? :D

ahh thank you, Sky! And it’s never too late for me to ramble about my dumb OCs lol, I’m always glad to ❤️also rip, I totally answered them all and wrote up my response and then I accidentally reloaded the page and lost everything sdughsdgsdg

5. What would their recruitment mission be?

Seeing that Sash is a fiery “idc what Garza said, if this order is immoral then I’m finding a loophole” kinda gal, I imagine the PC would encounter her doing just that - defying an order for the opportunity to save more lives and do what’s right. The PC can agree with her and recruit her based on similar ideals, or Sash would be assigned to them because the PC is someone capable of keeping her in order.Really, how this woman lasted so long in the military is one of the many mysteries of the Star Wars universe.

9. What would they say if you clicked on them?

“Hey there!”

“What’s happening?”

“If you need help with anything at all, don’t be afraid to turn to me.”

“Hey, can we talk when we get the chance?” (in private)

“I want to talk to you on the ship one-on-one, when you get the time.” (on the ship)

13. What gifts do they Love? Like? What would they say when you gave them a gift?

Loved gifts are Republic memorobilia and cultural artifacts, and liked ones would be military, courting, and luxury items!

“For me? Thank you so much!”

“I hope this doesn’t set you back or anything! Thank you!”

“Oh, that’s so sweet! Thank you!”

#Sierra's Asks #SWTOR stuff #ma setheneran #thank you again!#a fun fact for y'all: I based her off Steve Rogers sdughsdg #OC: Sashtha Tis

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so-very-small · 7 years

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Slides th heck in w a question cuz idk what else to do rn uH so i know you like t ramble abt ur ocs any good tol-meeting-smol fearplay situations w your ocs you might wanna talk abt? (P.S. its th same stressed smol anon from earlier today, the fluffs helped i giv many thank)

fhgkfd i wrote way too much so ima put it under a read more (also when u said i could ramble i RAMBLED u gave me too much power anon. thank u)

OKAY HERE WE GO. i adore fearplay and 99.9% of my g/t ocs meeting start with it, and the top ones in term of it would probs be Jane/Eeo. (mostly because they fit the casual description of fearplay the best - a lot of my others tend to have more build up or ~nuanced~ forms of terror lmao; but Eeo and Jane are clasic ‘tol scares smol accidentally’ y’kno. other conteders are Azriah/Lance and Lottie/Donovan and Ro/Pen and Orville/Reese BUT ANYWAYS I’ll just shut up and tell ya abt Jane and Eeo)

their story takes place in a post apocalyptic world, only inhabited by mechas, monsters, and Endgames. in said war, there was a lot of biological testing done on humans until things called ‘Endgames’ were made by a certain government. it was more or less a normal person that was grown to a massive height, mentally conditioned to turn into a devastating weapon upon hearing a certain string of words. without said words, they’re just normal people. the war tore the world to shreds, and all normal humans abandoned the planet, hence it being entirely empty save for a few colossal beings.

Eeo is one of the Endgames. unlike some others, his kill-code was never used, so he’s basically a normal person but big. he lives in a warehouse, near a city, and spends his time doing whatever. he was far too big to get on any of the escape ships, and no one wanted an endgame about anyway, so he’s more or less been utterly isolated for the past few years

and then one day Jane wakes up. she finds herself in a hospital, IV’s in her arms and half dead. all the machines about her quiet. from the nearest file she can nab, she finds she’s a Jane Doe, coma patient, hasn’t awoken in 5 years. and upon further reflectment, she finds she doesn’t remember a goddamn thing. she steps out her room to find that the hospital’s empty, overrun with small critters and vines. half the rooms are destroyed, the other half given in to nature. of course, an overwhelming sense of panic gets all up in her and she takes her search to every floor of the hospital, before finding her way out.

scattered cars, empty streets, not a light in sight. it’s empty.

Eeo lives near this city, and despite being too big to really do anything. it’s interesting almost in the way playing with figurines or the like is interesting, and it gives him something to. he’s used to hearing car alarms popping off, buildings gradually crumbling, animals calling to one another. what he isn’t used to is hearing a raw voice half-begging for anyone to hear her. it’s been years since Eeo’s heard another soul, so he doesn’t hesitate to burst in the direction of the voice

Jane’s search for fellow humanity grows more frantic as she gradually realizes that apparently some kind of cataclysmic event happened that skipped right on over her. and its only when she hears a heavy, rythmic thud in the distance, a gradual shadow falling over her, does she realize that hey, maybe yelling beacon to her location is a bad idea.

so it’s pretty safe to say that when the entirely alone, lost, confused Jane locks eyes with the terribly lonely, excited to see another person for the first time in five years, Eeo, she’s half terrified. as far as she knows he could be the reason why everyone’s gone, so she takes no time in rushing to get away from him

cue a chase through the ruins of a lost city. on some level Eeo knows that hey, this is probably a bad idea, she could be scared, but at the same time he’s spent so much time alone that he can’t let another chance at a real connection slip by. Jane’s running on adrenaline that does not last quite long, and despite her somewhat impressive attempts at evading him, she does wind up getting caught.

they kinda get lost in one another for a bit, Jane sitting in Eeo’s palm, both staring at one another, neither positive what’s gonna happen next

and that is one of my fave oc g/t meetings >:3c

#jane #eeo #g/t #ask #Anonymous

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nico-nightingale · 4 years

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Summary: Following an accident that involved her beloved younger sister, the crown princess of Arendelle grew to believe she was born cursed. At her eleventh birthday, however, she receives the visit of a man in strange robes, who invites her to study at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This story follows Elsa’s life in Hogwarts as she discovers that magic is no curse and starts learning how to love herself.

Characters: Elsa of Arendelle, Nymphadora Tonks, Arcadia Green (OC), Adam Howard (OC)

Rating: T (ages 13 and up)

Also found on: ff.net, ao3, wattpad

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. Frozen belongs to Disney. The cover photo belongs to nico benedickt and the font belongs to naharstd.

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Chapter IV: Screaming Complexion

In the end, a big part of the Herbology lesson was introductory as Professor Sprout introduced herself and the course. They only started studying the actual subject about one hour into class beginning, which Elsa realized she actually enjoyed as long as she remembered that the teacher would be able to heal any plants she accidentally hurt.

Finally, when they heard a bell ring announcing the end of the class, Elsa was so absorbed taking notes that Tonks had to poke her in order to call her attention, which made the princess' gloves turn suddenly rigid while it contained the ice she conjured. “You want to head out with us? I've heard it's kind of easy to get lost in the castle, so it would be nice to have an extra pair of eyes,” the pink-haired girl suggested after quickly retreating her hand, once again showing her empathy.

For a reason she couldn't grasp, Elsa trusted the pink-haired girl and felt safe in her company. It was unreasonable since she didn't change how dangerous her powers were or how painful it would be to be separated from or rejected by the others once her magic was discovered or she was withdrawn from the school. Still, emotions—and the fear of getting lost on her own in that big and confusing castle—were stronger than her desire to be left alone and she saw herself agreeing. “I— okay,” Elsa offered Tonks a nervous smile.

Worried about making the others be late for the next class, the princess turned her attention to her supplies still spread on the table and quickly moved them back to her backpack. Meanwhile, Adam placed her fountain pen back in front of her, “thank you, that was amazing! I might even save my allowance to buy one.” With a big smile on his face and too excited to remain still, the boy got on his feet as he started gathering his own supplies.

Elsa offered him a sincere smile. Han er søt! The thought surprised her as she had never thought of anyone beside her sister as cute, but it warmed her heart, awakening her protective nature. The girl felt dumb, however, when realized that there was nothing dangerous within the castle's grounds that she was more suited than her teachers to protect the others from.

A few seconds later, though, an idea popped into her mind. There was one thing she was the most apt person to deal with: herself. The warmth vanished at once and she lowered her head to focus on her current task to hide the sadness spreading through her face. If the others noticed, they ignored; but Elsa deemed it to be too late to back out.

Finally, when they were all set to leave, the group headed out under the warmth gaze of their teacher. Elsa tried not to look toward her, but was forced to when she heard the woman's voice as they passed in front of her desk: “have a nice first day, dears.” Although the others offered her an enthusiastic “farewell”, Elsa just nodded shyly and looked away.

“She seems really nice, doesn't she?” Tonks said once they passed through the castle's front door. “Dad says she's a good teacher too, although neither he or mum took Herbology during their N.E.W.T. years.” Elsa had to make an effort to remain in silence. She was certain that it was the first time she had heard of such a thing as a “newt” year. Perhaps, the word meant something different than salamander; something the girl wasn't aware of.

“What do you mean by newt year?” Adam asked with a mix of curiosity and impatience that brought a smile to Elsa's lips. Although she wasn't as eager to know as the boy, she was glad that she would have the question answered. Also, if he didn't know what that was, perhaps it wasn't a language distinction as much as it was a difference between the muggle and the wizarding worlds.

Since Tonks was too busy giggling at Adam's impatience, it was up to Adie to try and to come up with an answer. “Well, it's kind of about the classes' level, right? In the fifth year, we will take the O.W.L. test— that's short of Ordinary Wizarding Level— and, if we pass a subject and decide to keep studying it during the sixth and seventh years, we start taking the N.E.W.T.s classes.”

“Exactly,” Tonks interfered with a smile once Adie finished her explanation. “My mum and my dad didn't take Herbology during their last couple of years in Hogwarts. I suspect dad didn't pass his O.W.L.s, anyways. He's never been very good at keeping plants alive and mum says she wouldn't give him a chance to kill me or our owl Ferdinand under his care.” The pink-haired girl giggled at her family's inside joke, paying no mind to the fact that she was the only one who understood it properly.

Elsa was certain that she wouldn't be staying in the British wizarding world for even enough time to complete her O.W.L.s, so, she paid no mind to the conversation when her companions started discussing the impact of the exams in their future and, later on, what career they had been thinking of following once they finished their studies. The topic wasn't uninteresting, for sure, but it made her feel even more alienated since, even if her parents forced her to remain in Hogwarts, her future had been drawn for her even before her birth.

Instead, Elsa focused on the map in her hands, trying to figure out the best way to reach their next class. She considered herself lucky that the classroom was on the first floor since, although the corridors and large numbers of rooms on their way were somewhat confusing, they wouldn't have to face the moving stairs just yet.

After a few minutes, Adam leaned closer to Elsa to look at her map. “Do you know where we are?” The boy didn't seem to be worried, despite the confused expression on his face. Since pulling away would be rude and the English words escaped from her mind as the fear of being accidently touched rose, the princess merely pointed their location with her trembling finger.

Adam smiled at her reaction and, much to her relief, pulled away to walk beside her at a safe enough distance so they wouldn't touch each other accidently. “You don't talk much, do you? That's okay, I don't mind,” the boy hurried to speak as Elsa's face grew uncomfortable. “Tonks and Adie say you're from another place, must be hard to have to speak an entire new language and all. You can talk if you want, but, so you know, it's fine if you don't want to— the girls— and I, I suppose— we can talk enough to cover for you.”

Not only his ramblings, but also the way his dark red hair covered his expectant green eyes and the playful smile on his lips reminded Elsa of her sister once again. His colors weren't the same as Anna's, but the smile brought enough similarity between them to cause one of her own. “It is difficult,” the princess replied, unsure of what else to say to fill the silence that followed. Adam, however, seemed to be pleased with the response he received and pulled his schedule from his cloak's pocket to consult the map in it.

“Let's see—” he said, thoughtful, scratching his chin with his free hand. Elsa turned her own focus to the paper in her hands, noticing they were approaching their goal at a good pace and would be in the classroom with some time to spare. Considering that she had been raised to never be late—tardiness being considered very rude—, the princess was happy with the realization.

Nearly five minutes later, the four crossed a door to find some of their Hufflepuff classmates but no professor. Adie seemed to have had the same line of thought of Elsa's, as she looked around before speaking, “where's the professor?” Adam and Tonks, who had been talking between themselves and had stopped by the two blondes at the entrance, also searched the teacher with their eyes, finding no one.

“Perhaps he's invisible—” the pink-haired girl suggested, much to Elsa's surprise. If the teachers were able to turn invisible at will— well, that was a terrifying notion that the princess didn't feel like entertaining. If professors could be invisible, how would they know if they weren't spying on their students? Not that she planned on doing something wrong, but with her powers, one never knew. What if she lost control in the halls? They were forbidden to use magic there.

“I mean, perhaps,” agreed Adie calmly. Looking at Adam, she realized he looked interested but not at all concerned. Why was she the only one who was horrified by the idea? Adie's eyes traveled between her classmates until they focused on Elsa; realizing the princess' terrified expression, the girl offered an explanation, “professor Binns is a ghost, Elsa. But he's harmless, don't worry.”

“Harmless— unless you can die of boredom, you mean,” Tonks giggled happily. “There aren't many things my mum and dad agree about the classes in Hogwarts, but both of them are adamant on how boring Binns' classes are.” A ghost as a teacher? Sure, Elsa had seen many ghosts in the castle and even spoke to the one that resided in the Hufflepuff common room, Fat Friar. But a teacher?

Why would his classes be boring, though? Having a History teacher who was himself historical should be nothing but interesting. Despite Tonks' statement, Elsa was hopeful that professor Binns could be the right person to ask about her powers since there must have been people like her before. He could at least be able to send her in the right direction.

Ignoring Tonks' warnings and with a confidence she hadn't felt since Dumbledore's visit, Elsa headed to the front of the classroom and sat right in front of the teacher's desk. Why, she wondered, professor Binns would need a desk if he was himself a ghost? Was he capable of sitting? Did he get tired at all? Although she was rather curious, however, those were the sort of questions the princess knew she shouldn't ask as they would probably be considered rude.

Elsa was surprised when she heard someone sitting beside her and turned to see that it was Adam. “You know, it's not because I'm hoping you could lend that pen of yours again, really,” the boy said with a playful smile. “I really used to like studying History at my old school. Hopefully, professor Binns isn't so bad, right? But it would be really nice if I had that pen for another period.”

He looked at her with pleading eyes full of expectancy, although she could see he was joking and wouldn't be mad if she didn't lend the pen. Hopefully. Wouldn't he, though? He looked rather calm and playful, but one could never know. “I— sure,” at that, Elsa placed her backpack on the desk and started searching for it.

“Oi, I was kidding!” He placed a hand on his backpack to call her attention, once again seeming very aware of the fact that she didn't like to be touched. Yes, Tonks and Adie were definitely responsible for that, and Elsa couldn't thank them enough. “I mean, the pen is awesome and I wouldn't mind if you were willing to lend it to me, but it's your pen and you should use it if that's what you want.”

The boy giggled and shook his head when, having found the pen, Elsa placed it on the desk in front of him, trying a smile to reassure him that it was okay. “Oh, thank you! Here, let me do something for you in return.” To the princess' surprise, he opened his backpack and fished a few paper sheets, placing them in front of her. “I noticed you don't like writing on parchment and I mean— it is kind of thick and rough. I brought paper for drawing, though; you can have some if you want.”

At first, Elsa thought about declining, but it was a gentle gesture repaying her own consideration: a gift that had come as an expression of gratitude. It was something royals had to deal with often, her mother had warned her, and had to always go along with, since refusing such presents would be either rude or offensive. Instead, then, the girl smiled and nodded, “thank you.”

It was when she finished placing a pen and her book on her desk, noticing that Tonks and Adie had sat on the desk right behind them, that professor Binns slid into the classroom through the blackboard. She saw some students jump and one of them even yelled, but, having been warned about him, Elsa was unfazed. The teacher, as well, seemed to be unperturbed by such welcome from the students.

Looking around, Elsa realized that there were only Hufflepuff students in the room since it was a rather small one. Why, she wondered, they had chosen such a small classroom when there were probably thousands of big ones in that large castle. It didn't make sense, but there was an advantage: as the shock at seeing that their teacher would be a ghost slowly fade, it only took a few seconds before the class grew silent.

Professor Binns, however, took no notice of his students as he was too busy gesturing his wand toward the blackboard, making words appear there. He didn't ask them to write on their books and parchments, but the princess quickly recognized the notes as of similar content to the first chapter of History of Magic, by Bathilda Bagshot, and started copying.

Her curiosity regarding his behavior was great, though. Was it normal for teachers to ignore their students so bluntly? All her former tutors greeted her at the moment they walked into the room, but she was their princess. Although the teachers were allowed to reprimand and discipline her, not only a level of respect was required from them, but they were also well aware that she would, one day, be their Queen. Therefore, she didn't suppose she had much to compare to.

By some of her classmates' response to professor Binns' evasive behavior as well as his monotone, continuous, and unperturbed speech throughout the entire lecture, however, it became clear that his methods were far from ordinary. Within minutes, the attention of the other children mingled. As minutes passed, Elsa could hear some conversation and even snoring.

Used to having to sit through massively uninteresting discussions and classes regarding unpractical themes such as philosophy and psychology, though, Elsa had no problem following the teacher's speech. Indeed, the lecture had been quite interesting in comparison to those since she had been eager to know reports of people who had a similar magic to hers.

Although, in the end, the teacher didn't say anything about such types of wizards and witches, he approached the topic of discussion, witchcraft in pre-historical times, through a different optic than the book's and explored further points. Therefore, the princess got past the boring speech by writing down every single word he was dictating in order to keep her mind going.

Elsa had no complaints regarding the lecture, but the professor's refusal to acknowledge the students put her off about asking questions after class. Indeed, even if she had gathered the courage to approach him, it took him no more than a few seconds to vanish the notes on the blackboard before disappearing right in front of the students' eyes.

Beside her, Adam was stretching his arms, seeming to have been waking up from a deep slumber. Even though she thought he should have made a bigger effort to pay attention, Elsa chose to make no comment as she gathered her things. It wasn't her place to say what was right or wrong; and, even if it was, the princess knew she was ignorant on how regular students should behave in a classroom.

“You have some skills, Elsa, to be able to listen to Binns for to the entire bloody class,” Tonks said when Elsa turned to her side to once again pack her supplies. The girl was scratching her head in frustration, making her spiky pink hair look even more messy. Meanwhile, Adie was yawning soundly as she stood up to get the bag she had left beside of her chair.

Elsa had to take a few seconds to figure out how to say what she wanted without sounding judgmental or dumb. “I have never gone to a school. I thought— my mamma told me I should følg med— I mean—” she sighed in frustration, feeling herself starting to flush. What was the word in English? Unable to remember in time, she changed her approach on the phrase: “she said I need to focus on what the teachers say.” Tonks watched her as she struggled and, after a few seconds, she felt the eyes of the entire class on her. Too scared to check if they were actually paying attention, however, she looked at her feet. “I am sorry.”

Much to Elsa's relief, no one commented on her accent during the few seconds before Tonks replied to her. “Look, your mother isn't exactly here to check, is she? You can do whatever you want and it's not like she's going to find out. Unless you do something so bad that Dumbledore would feel obligated to owl people a few countries away,” the pink-haired girl was giggling between words and had to stop herself to crack into a laughter. She took many seconds to recover and continue, “but if you really want to pay attention, it's brilliant! That way you can teach everyone else.”

“I mean, considering that you can't be worse than Binns, I bet the entire class will want to learn from you. Can't say I've seen anyone else paying attention,” Adie had started giggling with Tonks, although she was surprisingly more restrained. What Elsa couldn't understand was why they had been laughing. Was it her accent? Was it what she had said about her mother? Or, perhaps, both? De tror jeg er dum.

The embarrassment and sadness Elsa felt at the realization didn't last much since, soon enough, she noticed the ice covering her skirt around her hand. Terrified, the princess closed her backpack in a hurry and rushed as fast as she could out of the classroom and as far away as possible from the place where most of the students seemed to be heading to: the Great Hall.

All thoughts of lunch were forgotten as Elsa looked for a place to hide, a place where she could unleash the powers threatening to overflow from her body without hurting anyone. Finally, knowing she wouldn't be able to hold it anymore, the princess walked into the nearest empty, windowless classroom and shut the door.

As her magic was released from her body in a whirlwind, the relief was so enormous that Elsa could sense nothing else for a long time. Unaware of the fact that she was surrounding herself with snow and ice, the princess stood in the middle of the classroom, her backpack forgotten on her back, her hair loosened by the strong winds produced by her powers.

Elsa didn't notice, either, the passage of time; she didn't worry about her hunger or the fact that, at some point, the teachers would start looking for her. Alone behind a door that she had unintentionally barricaded with wind, ice, and snow; even long after her magic calmed down, safe within her body, the princess felt freedom.

Alone, that was the only way she and the others could ever be safe. Alone, that was how she could be free.

-------------------

Softness and confusion were the only things in Elsa's mind when she slowly started regaining consciousness. She seemed to be laying on a comfortable surface, covered by cozy, heavy blankets. They felt odd, however, different from the ones she had at her bedroom and there were voices speaking strange words in a different language. Where was she?

Suddenly, she was taken by the remembrance of Hogwarts, the other children laughing at her and her control slipping away. In the locked classroom, after releasing her magic, the princess had felt a little better for a while. By herself, she pretended that Anna was there and they were playing their favorite games, going as far as building Olaf for the first time in many years.

As she grew hungry and tired, Elsa realized she would have to leave that sanctuary to find food and a bed, she would be required to meet and talk to people. Still, each time she thought about it, the memory of how painful and tiresome the last two days was discouraging to her. If the girl had known the way, she could have gone straight to professor Dumbledore and asked him to take her home.

Unsure of the passage of time, not knowing how to reach the Headmaster or the teachers, and unwilling to interact with more people than it was necessary, Elsa remained undecided until she finally passed out of exhaustion on the ground of an empty classroom, surrounded by the ice and snow she had conjured and hugging Anna's favorite ice dolls, watched by Olaf.

Now, she couldn't feel the dolls against her palms or the thickness in the air caused by her magic outbursts. The soft light of candles around her, Elsa realized as she opened her eyes, indicated that it was night. Sitting up and looking around, the princess noticed she was in white large room unlike any she had ever been before. The beds, nightstands and walls were empty and plain. Hvor er jeg?

“I see you are awake, Miss Kyrre,” following the voice coming from a corner that she hadn't had the time to examine yet, Elsa found the stern face of the tall professor who had guided her through the Great Hall for the very first time and read her name right before she was selected to Hufflepuff. Studying McGonagall, the princess realized that, although serious, the transfiguration professor was rather calm.

Beside her, there was a shorter grey-haired woman dressed as a nurse—that was the moment Elsa realized she was at the hospital or, most likely, at a hospital room in Hogwarts. The woman had a concerned look on her face that the princess always associated with her mother and the royal doctors when she was sick, “how are you feeling, dear?”

As she approached, Elsa recoiled, clenching her hands in front of her chest only to realize they were uncovered. “Hvor er hanskene mine?!” The girl asked in despair as she searched with her eyes for her gloves, already aware that the air around them was growing colder at every passing second. Finally, she located her gloves lying on the nightstand beside her bed and rushed to put them on.

When Elsa turned again to face the nurse, she was surprised to see that the woman was crossing the entrance of the room, leaving the princess alone with the transfiguration professor. McGonagall only moved when the door was closed, drawing her wand and making a series of movements at the same time that a tray of food appeared right in front of the girl. “You should eat, Miss Kyrre.”

Much to her surprise, the tray was composed with hot fish soup, bread and a glass of what seemed to be juice. It wasn't the exact same type of food she ate at home, but it was closer than anything she had found at the train or the Great Hall. “Usually, the students prefer something of more substance after a full day, but Madam Pomfrey suggested you should start with some lighter food since you skipped lunch and supper. Now, go ahead and eat.”

Although the teacher was calm—gentle, even—, Elsa recognized the no-nonsensical inflection on professor McGonagall's voice that left no room for argument. Not that the princess was willing to argue, anyway, since she was starting to realize that she was hungrier than she recalled ever being and eager to eat much more than just one soup dish.

Since she didn't know if she would be allowed to repeat, however, Elsa made an effort to eat slowly. It didn't take long before she finished, however, “can I— may I have more, Frøker?” The princess had no idea if that was the right way to address the teacher as she was usually on first-name basis with her tutors, but she was too tired and eager at that moment to care. “Please?”

As she turned to send a pleading look towards McGonagall, Elsa noticed she was now sitting on a chair beside her, although far enough for the girl to feel safe. The teacher watched for a second, undisturbed by the surprise in the princess' expression, before shaking her head, “as I said before, you should start slowly after so long without eating.” Elsa sighed in defeat, which brought the corners of the woman's mouth upwards. “There are some things we should discuss first. Then, if you still want to, I will fill your dish again.”

The notion that a professor wanted to talk to her was scary, especially considering that she had skipped her class earlier that day. Was she going to be reprimanded? Punished, even? How did they punish bad students at a school such as Hogwarts? What about her magic? Was the teacher mad at her for losing control? Professor Dumbledore assured her that he would warn the teachers about her powers and she wouldn't be punished for accidentally releasing them, but had skipped a class that would, according to the Headmaster, would help her to learn how to deal with her magic.

“I see,” looking down at her lap, Elsa realized her bed was now covered by snowflakes—once again, she was losing control. Calming herself by breathing slowly and closing her eyes, the snow started decreasing. Before she could apologize, however, McGonagall moved her wand and the snow on the bed evaporated. “I understand that neither professor Dumbledore nor professor Sprout had any success convincing you that we have means to protect you and your friends from possible side effects of your magic.”

Elsa lowered her head when she felt her cheeks burning in embarrassment. Although the professor's voice wasn't harsh, it was sober, which made her feel like she was being reprimanded. “I do not like magic, Frøker. I want to go home. Hogwarts are not a place for me,” it was a statement that Elsa knew would call McGonagall's attention, a bait to deviate the topic in discussion. A lazy, coward approach that would have made her father scold her.

“Well,” the teacher's voice was unreadable, but Elsa couldn't force herself to look up to try and read her face. “If you want to go home, nobody can or will force you to stay in Hogwarts. But pray tell me, Miss Kyrre: what do you know about magic? How much do you know about your own magic?”

Elsa didn't know how to respond to such an unexpecting question. She had, of course, figured that the professor would want to inquire further about her decision, refusing to let her withdraw from Hogwarts without a good explanation. Her knowledge about magic was, however, the type of question the princess wouldn't be able to answer honestly without contradicting herself since the truth was: she didn't know much about it at all.

“I thought so—” McGonagall's voice was rather severe and somewhat tense at that point. Even without looking at her, Elsa could sense a deep disapproval from the woman. “Well, miss Kyrre, I understand the source of your fears. However, if what professor Dumbledore told me about your intellect is true, you should have no trouble to understand how knowledge can be a powerful weapon against fear.”

McGonagall was right, Elsa was able to grasp on how knowledge could help people surpassing their fears. Yet, to acquire that level of insight, she would have to practice magic and, despite everyone's reassurance of the contrary, put others in danger. “Frøker, I do not wish to— do magic. If I could just learn the— theory— apart from the others,” the girl had a little trouble figuring out the right words to use. How could she learn when even the most basic interaction was so exhausting?

“That is not the way to study magic such as yours. Theory can only take you so far,” the teacher made a long pause as if waiting for Elsa to reply. The girl, however, couldn't figure what to say. All she knew was that magic had hurt Anna, the person she loved the most, and that was, in her opinion, a reason good enough for her aversion toward her powers.

“As for doing it on your own, we won't make an exception just because you are scared, Miss Kyrre. Not when the fears are so irrational. Allow me to give you an example,” McGonagall made a small pause as if she was trying to come up with one good enough to convince the girl. “Well, a few decades ago, a Basilisk— that is a giant snake capable of killing people who stare into its eyes— was released in Hogwarts. Although some were hurt, we were able to salvage the situation with one single casualty. Our staff is prepared to deal with most magical accidents, do not underestimate us.”

“I am not!” Elsa exclaimed, exasperated, and turned to look at the annoyed face of her teacher. “But you haven't had other students with powers like mine. Frøker Dumbledore told me I was different.” It was strictly the truth. The headmaster was actually answering her mother's question when he said they had no record of a student capable of working with one exclusive sort of magic from the moment they were born.

While the great majority would start at the age of 7, however, there were rare cases of children who had been born with a rare gift and were talented in one way or another. Even those, however, would be seen performing other types of magic by the age of 11. Not only Elsa was part of the second group, but she had only displayed a talent to perform one type of magic: something Dumbledore hadn't heard of since he had started his teaching career at Hogwarts.

For a reason, McGonagall was clearly surprised by Elsa's outburst, her eagerness to explain herself. It took the girl a little while before she realized that the reaction didn't match the passive way she had been behaving since she first set her feet in Hogwarts. The teacher recovered fast, however. “While your magic is something we know very little about, we have heard of injuries such as your sister's. It is unfortunate that nobody from our world became aware of what happened since it is rather simple to be cured.”

Elsa shook her head, she had trouble believing what McGonagall was saying. If the context of her magic was so non-ordinary, it was reasonable to think that it was somewhat unpredictable. The professor was having none of it, however. “Dropping out of school for such am irrational reason is beneath you, miss Kyrre,” was, finally, her irritated response to the girl's request to go home.

“While I believe it's counterproductive to keep you here without your consent, your parents were adamant about your presence here and, believe me, it was difficult enough for professor Dumbledore and them to deal with the political implications. For now, I advise you to give us a chance and trust that we are aware of your magic and prepared to deal with the consequences of freezing spells if you lose control.”

Again, Elsa had no words to respond to the teacher, knowing that she was being severe but honest. Her parents demanded her presence in the school since it was an opportunity to give her the control necessary for her to be able to be a stable queen in the future. As the princess was at that point, scared and eager to isolate herself, it would be impossible for her to reign. The girl lowered her head to hide the tears that had started flooding her eyes. They were pointless and a waste of time, she knew, since her future was determined for her. There was nothing to be done about it.

“Madam Pomfrey has agreed to let you stay here for the night, but you are awaited in your classes tomorrow and the presence in the dorms is mandatory to all the students from nine at night to five in the morning. I expect no less than a perfect attendance from now on, Miss Kyrre, and advise you to stick to the friends you are making, companionship is an important part of your education in this school.”

Although Elsa didn't turn to look at her, she heard the professor getting up. “Your plate and glass will be filled every time you empty them, but I advise you to take it easy. Once you finish, leave the trail on your nightstand and Madam Pomfrey will take care of it by the morning.”

McGonagall paused after a few seconds, seeming to consider her next words: “it's not the end of the world. You already made quite a good impression on your classmates and Head of the House, Professor Flitwick has expressed his desire to work on your magic with, and Professor Sinistra has heard of your perfect scores in mathematics and physics. From where I stand, it looks like you fit very well at Hogwarts. I only hope you realize it soon.”

Again, Elsa made no commentary. Not only she didn't know what to say, the tears were also keeping her from finding her voice and her mind was too clouded for her to come up with the right words in English. “Now, try eating with moderation and getting some sleep, will you?” At that, McGonagall got up and left the princess alone with her own thoughts. And, indeed, she had many of those.

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Notes:

The translations to the expressions in Norwegian.

"Han er søt!" means "He is cute!". "De tror jeg er dum" means "They think I'm stupid". "Hvor er jeg?" means "Where am I?". "Hvor er hanskene mine?!" means "where are my gloves?!". "Frøker" means "Professor".

Thanks to all who read it :)

#frozen fic #harry potter fic #elsa of arendelle #nymphadora tonks #arcadia green #adam howard #minerva mcgonagall #harry potter au #frozen au #the others #my fanfics

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