#I feel very sick and bad but working on my ocs helps a little
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galaxies-and-gore · 7 months ago
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Twst OC Bio: Victor Callahan
Time for some more RSA ocs! I've been stuck on this one for a while because I couldn't come up with a name I was happy with. I might change it in the future.
Basics:
Name: Victor Callahan
Birthday: June 12th
Age: 18
Dominant Hand: Right
Unique Magic: Hindsight (He can briefly see into the immediate future. The catch is that the more this is used, the more unreliable it becomes due to all the possible futures blending together.)
School:
Grade: 3rd year
Club: Fencing
Best Subject: History
Preferences:
Hobbies: Collecting knives, testing random potions
Pet Peeves: His intrusive thoughts
Favorite Food: Lemon cake
Least Favorite Food: Onions
Talent: Can tell the difference between almost identical shades of a color
Misc:
Species: Human
Based On: The White Queen
Likes: Ducks, plushies
Dislikes: Dogs, overwhelming smells
Pronouns: He/him
Orientation: Aroace
Hair: White
Eyes: Greenish brown
Rambling:
Okay this is going to be a long ramble because I have a lot to say. This was another of my very early twst oc ideas that I never did anything with at first. I think around a year ago, I saw that an artist that I admire draw their version of the white queen in twst and I had to try to make a character from the same inspiration. The reason that I'm still not happy with his name is just that I put a lot of thought and meaning / symbolism into my characters' names. I wanted his initials to be "V" and "C" because of the vorpal sword and because of Lewis Carroll. This was the best combination that I've come up with so far, but I'll almost definitely change it if I think of something better. The vorpal sword is also the inspiration behind Victor enjoying collecting knives, and the scene in the 2010 movie where the white queen makes a potion to return Alice to normal size is the inspiration behind the random potion making and testing. Except Victor has no method behind the madness. He just throws whatever he has into a caldron and so be whatever happens. He lost his right arm in an accident when he was very little and has a prosthetic arm that looks like blue and white porcelain (I'm going to add an image of what I mean at the end). Victor is also albino. I have a hair style that I think suits him, but I have no idea what it's called. I'll put this first in the images, and I'd be grateful if someone could tell me what it's called. I'm trying to learn about black hair and hairstyles so I can properly draw some of my characters, but I'm still far from knowledgeable. As far as clothing ideas go, I really want to lean in to the impractical doll clothes vibe with his dorm leader outfit, there's also a little bit of a carnival vibe but Idk how to properly express what I mean. I found an image of doll shoes on Pinterest while looking for inspiration and I love them so much and I'm definitely making the part of his outfit. The heel of the shoe is an hourglass and I'm so obsessed with that design. Well I though that I'd have more time to talk, but I don't so I'm cutting myself off here.
Here's the hairstyle, porcelain, and doll shoes I was talking about (all of these are from Pinterest):
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pyrriax · 5 months ago
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ANYWHO goodnight tumblr i'll be back on the art grind tomorrow i think 🙏
#haunted ecosystem#i'll take a burst of creativity in a different form than usual than the burnout slump i've been in for a few months#<- part of why my fandom stuff has taken a smidge of a backseat#dont get me wrong i am still very excited about my fandoms im just having fun off in oc hell (affectionate)#its nice to just be able to create and not really worry about perception. and also i feel Less bad about just throwing ocs into the wringer#((blame the fact i've been REALLY interested in whump recently and i have been. fixated. on one of my characters.))#and ALSO i've been! rekindling my flame for wtds. i've been putting off thinking about it since that fic got.#nothing bad happened? but it was still very devastating that somebody who i considered a friend from that fic just. evaporated.#but i'm gonna finish that fic for him :) even if it takes a year. even if it's the one thing i finish ever. it'll be wtds.#for where its gotten me and the fact its what got me out of my shell and is the reason i trust that my writing is good!#i used to really hate rereading my work. i catch flaws that are obvious to me. but that fic. i just think about how *good* the story is#that story means. a lot to me? as a person? like the main character is not a good person. but people care about him anyway.#and there are so many little things. so many sentiments. so much that is a love letter to people who've done bad but learnt to do better#because. god knows i wasnt a good person even just a few years ago. and maybe i see myself in him a bit.#he came from a place of paranoia and fear and pain. and maybe its a good thing that i've found it difficult to write him recently.#because god. i've been HAPPY. even with the rough moments and bad days. i've been happy. i mean fuck.#my birthday's what. ten days away? god damn man. i'm going to be 18. that's an achievement.#i want to look the kid who thought it was over at half my age and tell him we fucking made it. and there are more years to come.#there's a life ahead. even if it's going to be a bitch. even if it's going to be tough. there's love in your heart and people who care and#you're going to fucking live and you're going to feel better one day. you have people to meet properly and thank and cherish.#because for every day it feel like the world's ending there are a dozen more where the sun shines just the right way through the rain#and you can't help but smile because it's just so god damn beautiful.#and fuck it. you're sick. your hands hurt and your legs don't work right. and it's tough sometimes. but you have people who understand.#you have people who honest to god love you for who you are and appreciate your company. and 18 is the first step.#you've spent half your life unlearning things and you've spent half your life relearning how to be what YOU want to be#and if you're a mediocre artist and passionate writer then you'll be fucking great at that. taking the time to learn when it strikes you.#and maybe this is for me. but its also for anybody reading it too. please god if there's one thing you take from this let it be that#somebody out there cares. *I* care. god i care. even if we've never spoken proper i care about you.#i practically have a list of everybody i see in my inbox. i love seeing familiar names show up. i.#i dont know how to neatly wrap up this tag ramble. but. i am so damn full of love it hurts sometimes. its scary to be happy but thats ok!
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i-am-a-l0st-gh0st · 7 months ago
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This one is inspired a bit by one of my ocs backstory but..
The reader is a transmasc person, who tries their best to hide it, trying to seem as if they were a cis man - mostly due to the overwhelming dysphoria they get. Sure, they got the top surgery but... Not the bottom one. The biggest issue was - they were having terrible periods, and I mean TERRIBLE - To the point they can't stand up from the bed, squirm in pain and vomit anytime they move. While they were able to hide it from lyney long enough, saying stuff like "I ate something bad" and other stupid excuses, lyney got clearly very worried and concerned as the same thing happened each month, even when the reader didn't seem to even eat anything close to bad. Now, the reader doesn't know how to avoid the truth, as they're crying from the immerse pain, unable to hide their misery from lyney any longer.
Boys don't cry- Lyney X transmasc!reader
I would say i'm sorry, if thought that it would change your mind. t/w- periods, vomit, headaches, cramps, dysphoria summary- As shown above
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You'd been together for almost 5 months and each month you'd managed to avoid telling Lyney you were trans but for how long? Avoiding it forever was out of the question, you couldn't keep getting you period and telling him you were sick.
The only thing you could concentrate on was the unbearable feeling of needing to be sick. If you stood up you might puke everywhere... And the cramps didn't make it any better... You clutched you stomach trying to make them go away... If only that worked... Your train of thought was lost as your boyfriend walked into the room.
"Dear... This happens every month... I know for a fact it's not food poisoning. Your my boyfriend... I need to know what's wrong with you."
*Boyfriend*. You loved being called that but for some reason it stung... Tears began to form in your eyes, emotions all over the place. Lyney was shocked to see you so emotional. He hugged you tightly, rubbing your hair, bringing you close. He wanted to help... But you couldn't tell him... He would think differently of you... He would see as what you were before you were a boy.
"I'm fine Lyney, just a little sick."
"A little sick? Sweetie you can't get out of bed. I need to know what's up with you."
Lyney was stubborn... Almost as stubborn as you, he wouldn't give up. Not until you were feeling better. The cramps slowly started to get worse, causing tears to well up in your eyes. You tried to turn away from Lyney hiding your face. In response he grabbed you chin forcing you to look at him.
"Mon amour... what's wrong." His face had lost its charm and had turned, not stone cold but almost there.
"Lyney... I...I.."
"Take your time sweetie."
You couldn't tell him, he would see you as girl. You worked so hard to build a life a male. It was all going to crumble now... You felt your cheeks heat up with the feeling of vomit... You quickly got up and ran to the bathroom pushing Lyney out of the way. Knuckles turned white as you gripped he toilet bowl waiting for it to happen.
"Sweetheart! What's wrong!" Lyneys voice had become increasingly worried.
You couldn't avoid the truth any longer... It was right in front of him. He'd have to find out sooner or later.
"Lyney... I'm trans..transgender. I.. I've only gotten top surgery not bottom. So I still get my... Period."
"So that was it? Honey I still love you. You know I don't see you as any less of a man. If anything I see you as more of one. What you go through sounds painful..." His voice had calmed down now. "But why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I was scared you'd leave me.. and this dysphoria gets really bad."
"Oh mon amour... I would never leave you... Now let me take care of you."
Lyney grabbed you hand leading you back into bed, he grabbed you a heat pack placing it on your stomach. He put a bucket close to your bed, just incase you needed it.
"Anything else?" You swear you couldn't love this man anymore.
"Cuddles?'
"Anything for you, my love."
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@pandragonsoul @atsukawolfcat @keeyisbored
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troloyunu · 5 months ago
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Sorry if you've answered this somewhere before, but do you have any advice for improving/practicing art?
I am not sure if I am the best person to be giving advice on this matter as there are a lot of aspects of my art that are lacking, but here are some tips that have worked for me personally that I think worth are trying!
This got kinda long so. Under the cut!
First, this is always important, and I know people are sick of hearing this but it's true: practice, practice, practice! Observing things is very important for art but you actually have to try your hand again and again in order to have a result that is to your liking when it comes to art. Please just try to draw as much as you can. You have a pen in your hand? Scribble something. This will also improve your linework.
Do NOT be afraid to use references. It is highly unlikely that you will just happen to be able to draw something you have never drawn before without a reference. If you can't find any refs, take your own pictures. (I do this a lot when it comes to drawing hands)
Most of the time we have these conceptions of how things look especially when it comes to anatomy but humans are all sooo vastly different so I believe it is important to broaden your vision by using diverse references
Don't be afraid to draw bad. Seriously. If a piece you just made sucks, don't beat yourself up about it. It is geniunely not that serious. Take a break and come back to it, if it is still not to your liking and you cannot improve it; it is okay to delete that drawing and try something else. You'll get it, I promise. Just keep practicing.
Most of the time I find that it helps A LOT to draw something I am obsessed with. When I am learning anatomy, I don't just always draw some random people's pics I found on the internet, I will sometimes make that drawing into a character/ship I love
Do redraws from your old art! It is so motivating and fun to see how you have improved and changed as an artist :3
I know it is not healthy to rely solely on validation, but it does help a lot! If you are part of a community, esp one with a lot of artists, don't hesitate to show them your work! You can also draw your friends' ocs and such if you want to, it really is a win win situation because you will be drawing something you want to draw and your friend will be so happy that you took the time to draw their character. I loved gifting people little doodles when I was part of an oc centred fandom :D
Also, since we are talking about validation, validate YOURSELF please. Imagine yourself 2 years, 5 years, 10 years whatever ago. How would you have felt if you saw your drawings today? You would have been so impressed! So take the time to appreciate your own work.
If there are any artists you adore, don't hesitate to try to redraw their drawings, or maybe just some aspects of their style that you love. If you do a redraw, it is advised that you do not post it as your own idea, but if the artist is ok with you posting it with credit, then you can do that too! :D
That being said, keep in mind that you don't have to post EVERYTHING you draw! I used to do that which put a lot of pressure onto me since I would get so upset whenever a drawing turned out bad, but when you realize that you can just not post it, that lifts a lot of tension.
Take care of yourselfff!!! Take care of your arm, your wrist, your back. I think there is this program that makes you take breaks every x minute which is called EyeLeo, you can install that or something similar. But please do take care of your health.
Sometimes breaks are needed. If nothing you draw looks right and you don't feel any joy in drawing, do take up another hobby for some time. Let yourself miss drawing.
Play around with styles and colors and lineweights, see what you like the best. I used to always get so upset that I didnt have a set style, my drawings vary a lot throughout each piece. But now I just keep it cool and don't think about it too much. Don't force yourself!
Also for me a part of drawing I ALWAYS look forward to when drawing canon characters is giving them alternate outfits I save on pinterest. I enjoy so much searching which outfits a character might wear. Maybe you can try this? I know drawing the same outfit over and over again for a character gets old.
Honestly being obsessed with something helps a lot with improving. Like a character or a pairing or whatever. Because you will just REALLY want to draw something for this thing you love, and you will just keep on doing and doing it. Really helpful
But 99.9% of the time, the thing you imagine will not translate completely identical to the canvas/paper. And that's OKAY! That means that you have a great imagination and you will try to get a satisfactory result. It just means more practicing. When you get an idea that you want to draw but don't feel like your skills are enough for, draw them anyway! That way you can see a lot more clearly what you need to work on. And do work on those things.
I think for reference images just find nude reference pictures of real life people. The drawing pose references we see on here or on pinterest with simple shapes ARE very convenient when you just wanna quickly draw something, but if your goal is to learn anatomy, then using a pic of an actual human is ideal.
Remember that art is supposed to be FUN. So do have fun. Experiment!!!
Also I would say like, when I was more of a beginner and tried to do fullbody drawings and such, it never looked good and I was quite discouraged but things started improving when I started to individually focus on things like eyes, noses, lips etc and then trying a more general approach with fullbodies. Might not be the same for everyone though!
I think that's all I can think about for now. Sorry if this is not that useful, but yeah! I would say the most important thing is to just practice honestly :D Go ahead, have fun, draw something! I wish you the best <3
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sofasoap · 1 year ago
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Lastochka AU - Strange confession
Pairing : Nikolai x F!Reader ( OC/Mini MacTavish)
Summary: Some sickness, some realisation, some confession. some sadness.
AU to my Lastochka series
WARNING: Mature Theme. swearing. Slight angst.
A/N : The meaningless crack plot continues. Thank you @nrdmssgs for the tips and knowledges of traditional Russian cold and flu remedies (some are very similar to my culture!)
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Liar. He is a big, fat, liar. Fucken a few weeks. My ass. 
It’s been over three months. And you haven’t heard anything from him. Not a call, nor text. Zero. None.Zilch. Nul. Neoni. 
You curl up in your bed, currently on the third day of running on extreme high fever that just doesn’t seem to drop no matter what you do. 
The loneliness hits you all of sudden. 
When is he coming home?
Home? Is this even his home? 
Does he even want to come back to you?
You feel so lonely without him by your side. 
You miss him. You miss his cuddle
You miss him fussing after you. You miss his low murmurs.
“That’s it, Lastochka. Be a good girl for me.”
“Look at you Lastochka, so adorable.” 
“Anything for you, My beautiful Lastochka.” 
You miss him. You love him. 
YOU LOVE HIM?
Shit. 
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A familiar large warm hand rested on your forehead. 
“Lastochka? Блять, you are running a fever.” The owner of the hand swore as they proceeded to touch your cheek and your neck. You struggled for a second but managed to peel your eyelids open.
There’s your husband, sitting on the edge of the bed, eyeing you with concern. 
“Nik.” you replied as your voice cracked, croak and hoarse from days of coughing. “When did you get back? I thought..” 
“Thought what?” 
I thought you don’t want me anymore.
Shaking your head to dispel the negative feverish thought, only to realise its big mistake seconds after, as the room starts spinning around and triggering headache. You turned to bury your face into the pillow, whimpering. 
“Have you taken anything?”
“No. Ran out of pain relief a few days ago.” you shook your head again, lightly this time. 
“No one came and checked you?” Nikolai frowned, seemingly irritated that no one has told him about your sickness nor anyone has bothered to come and look after you. 
“Few people offered. But I don’t want to pass my flu onto them. It’s already bad enough we are short staffed at work. ” you whispered, ready to receive a lecture from him. 
Nikolai sighed. As someone that has experienced your stubbornness, he should know it takes a lot for you to ask for help. Soap often complains about how he has to drag you half of the time, kicking and screaming, when he finds out if you've been hiding things from him.
With that thought, he stood up from the bed, ready to walk out of the bedroom.
Your arm shot out from under the blanket, grabbing his hand. “Where are you going?” you look at him, teary eyes filled with fear and lips trembling. Why are you so afraid of him leaving you again all of sudden? Damn hazy sickness brain, making you so weak. So emotional. So vulnerable. 
“Kitchen. Lie back down little bird. Don’t move.” he reassures as he gently pushes you back down into bed, “Going to make you something to ease that cough and blocked nose of yours. By the way,have we got any potatoes?”
Potatoes? Is he going to make you food?
“I used the last bit of it a week ago.. I don’t have any appetite to eat anyway. Don’t make any food.” You said to him, while grabbing a piece of tissue and blowing your nose.
“Humm.. have to use onion instead then.” Nikolai mumbled as he walked out of the room. 
Now you are a bit weary of what he is planning to do. You want to ask more, but your sluggish mind and body forces you to retreat back under the cover, to continue wallowing in self-pity and sickness. 
You open your eyes again when you feel the slight dip of the bed. Nikolai slides the serving tray down on the bedside table before gently pulling you up into his chest. Closing your eyes as you melt into his chest, relaxed. Being in his embrace seems to cure half of your sickness. For the first time in days you feel so safe and content just lying against him. 
You whined as he set you back into the bed, with piles of cushion and pillow he placed behind your back to lean into. Reaching over towards the tray, he grabbed a hot steaming mug of tea and carefully placed it in your hand. He then picks up a mandarin and proceeds to peel it.
Strong aroma of lemon and honey and unidentified sweetness hits your nostril as you lift the mug closer to your face. The hot steam immediately clears a bit of your blocked nostrils, making it dribble. 
Nikolai picks up a piece of tissue and dabs your running nose with a chuckle as you try to sniff it back up, and tilting his head up silently encourages you to take a sip of the drink. 
You timidly took a tiny sip, being careful not to burn yourself. You feel the hot lemon drink trickling down your throat, soothing the lumpiness and soreness you haven’t been able to get rid of for days. 
What is that familiar sweetness? It’s not just honey… it's more.. Fruity?
“It’s raspberry jam.” Nikolai answered the question, as if reading your thoughts. He proceeds to explain as he feeds a wedge of mandarin into your mouth.“My mother used to put honey and raspberry jam into hot lemon water to settle the high fever when we were young.It’s a poor man’s way of curing diseases. But it works wonders. I used to look forward to the drink every time I got sick.” The nostalgic tone of voice tinged with sadness, making your heart ache, listening to him mentioning for the first time ever about his own personal life. 
You knew nothing about this man. Apart from what your brother and the team told you. Leader of PMC, shady arms dealer seems to be able to get his hands on anything you ask for. Not even Price could tell you more than what you know. Or they don’t want you to know the truth. 
You hate that. 
He’s your husband. You want to know more about him. Get closer to his heart. You have the right to know. But, alas. He’s not your real husband. You can’t demand things and secrets out of him.
“Is your nose still blocked?” He asked suddenly, changing the topic. You tried to take a deep breath in through your nose, testing it out. You gasped for air through your mouth instead.
“Yep. still blocked.” you rolled your eyes as you answered in a nasally voice. “The steam only relieved it for a little bit.. Ugh.” you turned around to grab another tissue, ready to blow your nose, he held out his hand to stop you.
“Wait, try this first.” Nikolai turned to grab a bowl of murky white substance, you instinctively cover your nose and mouth as the strong stinging smell hits your nostril. 
“ What the hell is that? Better not be your…” 
“Onion juice.”
“ONION JUICE? Am I supposed to drink that or…” you eye the pipette in his other hand suspiciously. 
“Oh No, I drip it into your nose, it will clear your nose instantly.” 
“Thank you. But no, thanks. I’ll just keep blowing my nose and clear it up… the old fashion way.” you politely declined, edging away from him towards the other side of the bed. 
“Try it! It works wonders on me everytime.Trust me, you will feel better in no time.” putting the pipette into the bowl, he drew up a bit of liquid before towering you.
Feeling your hand on the edge of the bed, you had nowhere else to go, you warned him, “I swear to you Nikolai.. If you put that into my nose.. I’ll pour that thing onto your dick…” 
He ignores your threat, and traps you under him. His knees wedge your legs apart, his large hand grasps both of your hands and pushes it over your head, while the other one aims right for one of your nostrils. 
In the normal circumstances  you will be really aroused in this very compromised position, but with your nose and sinus at stake? There is nothing sexy about this at all. 
With a fast precision, he quickly drips the juice into both of your nostrils before you start thrashing about.  You instantly feel the burn of the mucous membrane and the whole of your sinus cavities as well.  
“... IS this how you torture your enemies for information?!!!” you cried out as you rolled around in pain, tears running down your face from the sting and the strong smell of the onion. You thought cutting up onion to induce tears was bad enough, this was a hundred times worse than what you experienced.
“Oh no. I use more harsh substances on them. This is very mild compared to that.” Nikolai commented casually, seemingly happy with the effect onion juice has on you. 
“.. I don’t want to know. Oh gosh, look at all this stuff flowing out..” you sat up, scrambling to the other side to grab more tissues to blow your nose, and realising your nose has somehow cleared up more than before. You look at him with astonishment. 
“I told you it will work. Downside to it you will have a dripping nose for the next hour or so.” Nikolai replied with a smirk on his face. “Best way to deal with it is to stand in the shower with the steam from hot water.” 
With the mention of that, you don’t even remember when was the last time you took a shower. Probably three days ago? You hardly had energy to get out of bed to use the toilet, let alone to stand for a period of time under the shower. Slowly you shuffle towards the edge of bed, nearly toppled over as you try to stand with your shaky legs. He grabbed you by your shoulder, steadying you before letting go. 
“I must smell.” you pouted as you sniff your own armpit.
“Nonsense. You always smell nice.” he smiled as he started stripping himself and proceeded to help you with undressing. He always knows when to say the right thing to make you feel better. 
“Even if you fall into a pile of manure, you will still smell like roses to me.”
Most times. 
“Nikolai.” you perked up as you leaned against his broad chest for support with hot water splashing down on top of the two of you, as much as you don’t want to admit, the onion juice and the steam is working wonders. “Why are you so good to me?” 
Nikolai shifted his focus to the side for a few seconds, one hand running down the small of your back as he hummed lightly before turning his attention back towards you, water dripping off his hair down his face. 
“Because I love you, my sweet little bird.” he replied in a low voice, barely loud enough for you to hear.
Your heart twisted at his confession. You have your suspicion that his feelings were quite genuine from all the affection and attention he had been showering you with for the past year.  He doesn’t have to do any of this to you. He could have just signed the marriage certificate and let you be, have minimal contact with you. 
But instead, he visits you with every chance he gets. Finding all the excuses in the world to take you out. To be close to you. To spend time with you. 
And in time, you realise, you have fallen in love with this strange, mysterious yet charismatic man. 
You open your mouth to reply, letting him know you return his feelings. But his large gentle hand covers your mouth, shushing you.
“You don’t have to say it if you really don’t mean a word of it, Lastochka.I am just happy you let me stick by your side.” 
But you want to tell him how you really feel. To put his heart at ease. What’s stopping you? Would he believe you if you tell him now? Would it sound totally insincere? As those questions run through your mind, he leaned forward and turned the shower off, grabbing the towel from the hanger before wrapping you up nicely,to get you ready for bed. 
He slides in behind you after settling you under the cover,caressing your hair. You feel the gentle vibration of his chest as he softly hums a tune of lullaby. You sniffed as your eyes started to flutter to a close, days of fatigue from poor sleep finally claiming you.
Soon. You will let him know. You promised yourself. 
Someday. 
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“I never took you to be the marriage type, Nik.” Price commented as he sat down with two glasses of whisky, trying to probe his friend for more information. 
Nikolai smiles, not taking the bait as he takes a sip of the drink Price brought him. 
He didn’t think he would have gotten married either.  He was ready to face the fact he would die on the battlefield, in some enemy territory. As a soldier. 
But he found you. His beautiful bird. The bright sunshine. 
His true love.  
Even though the love of his life doesn’t love him. 
It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t deserve you anyway. You don’t belong in his world. 
It’s a sin to taint someone who is so pure and bright. With his bloodied hand. 
He was happy enough to keep this relationship somehow… platonic. Purely physical. 
But with each interaction, he couldn’t help but get drawn into you like a moth to the flame. 
The back and forth bantering, the jabs, your ferociousness. Never give up attitude to life. 
Makes him feel alive. 
Gives him something to look forward to after missions. 
To return home to you. 
Nikolai raises his glass at you as he sees you high fived Soap after getting a bullseye at the dart game. You duck your head down for a second before looking back up, smiling shyly at him. 
“I don’t know what is up with the two of you, but I can clearly see she is quite smitten with you.” Price said as he tilted his tumbler, sloshing his drink as the ice clinked against the glass. “Heed this warning. Treat her right. Last thing you want is the four of you coming after you for breaking her heart.” 
He will never break your heart. 
Because you are his Lastochka. His precious little bird. He will forever wrap you up in his arms. He will be the shield you away from the darkness. The evil of the world.
Protect you with his life. 
Even if you don’t love him. 
But….
If he has to set you free? He will. 
Even if it breaks his own heart. 
“You still need to sweat that fever out of you… let me get some vodka…” “NO.” 
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unhinge tag list:
@homicidal-slvt
@nrdmssgs @siilvan @roosterr @preciouslittlecreature @bravosierra6 @gamergirlbones @whydoilikewhump @alypink @ashwasherelol @okayyadriana @liyanahelena @miyabilicious @caramlizedtomatoes @deadbranch @celshideout @merkitty49 @abbeyrjm-blog @shyravenns @okamimarta
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merichita · 3 months ago
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(Goddamn I was finally able to write at least my character's personality and more, buaa. Btw this was translated so any mistakes are not my fault!)
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Dr. Harlow
Personality:
Kind and calm at first sight but inside he is just someone empty who needs to use everything in his favor to survive and cure himself of the parasite that consumes him. Harlow is the type of person who will always be kind to manipulate others for their own good, he resorts to this only when it is new information about a possible cure for his parasite or also for other personal reasons, you never know...He has the perfectionism syndrome, where you want to achieve impossible goals and have everything perfect at the same time, which can be understandable due to where you work and what you specialize in, nuclear physics and radiation. He is a little "dishonest" with his own things, in fact almost all of his sanity has worsened since he became home to the parasite or rather: part of it. Even so, his morality is based on the fact that death is not the solution to diseases, that there may be something far beyond where we can find a cure for everything. Basically someone very ambitious for the common "good", he is such an excellent persuader that you will not realize the consequences of the actions required by Harlow's request. He still tries to be useful and help, understand and seek cures, these thoughts originated in his childhood.
He has a fear of getting sick, since his body does not have the best defenses like others. This fear originated as a child and continued until he was an adult, but now with the parasite he no longer gets sick as often, according to his words...Something that not even he admits is that he has hysteria, influenced by his family, specifically his mother's family, deep down he lies to himself that everything is fine with his mentality and health, although not be true.
Family and childhood:
Mother, father and a younger brother! (I will talk about him later since they are both united in each other) childhood is considered the helplessness of not being able to have done anything to cure his mother of her madness. When Harlow was born she was occasionally mistaken for being delicate because she got sick quickly, which her mother associated with her being a "delicate child" and was given the name "Lily" whenever her mother was awake or quiet...Her mother suffered from schizophrenia and was also influenced by family hysteria, which is why she often had violent attacks on her own children. Harlow's father was not present at all, probably sleeping with other women because his wife did not satisfy him for being "crazy." And lastly, to his brother, when he was born, Harlow always protected him from his mother's outbursts so they were always together like this, although their relationship is too complicated at the moment, they are both on thin ice and if they make a bad step everything will crumbles. (I will talk about this when I upload information about the brother since he is another of my ocs that I want to talk about :3!)
SCP Foundation:
He discovered the SCP foundation by persuading a co-worker about where he worked, successfully getting his co-worker to take his recommendation to the SCP foundation, which worked well, and he was admitted and joined the research department, specializing in nuclear physics and radiation, thus over time raising the security level with a lot of effort. He has too much grudge against 05 because they did nothing regarding the parasite case, yet he refrained from doing anything foolish knowing that he is on thin ice with them so he continued to be cooperative with the SCP Foundation to have more trust from his superiors and make the most of it. He mostly isn't so hard on the newbies because he somehow feels some empathy because he reminds him of his brother. So if you see a man waving at you from a distance, get closer, he's just the one wanting to start a conversation with you and get to know you better.
Personal data and details!!
(his clothes, his open eyes and how his hair works)
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• Has nosophobia and hysteria
• The brooch that he wears around his neck was a gift from his mother, his brother also wears one of his but the jewel is a different color than his.
• During a containment breach he met SCP-706, where they had a small talk where they became friends, since that day Harlow occasionally visits SCP-706's containment cell as he sees her as a younger sister.
• The four little moles under each eye is something unique among his family that was inherited from his mother
• His favorite animals are owls and seals
• he is a person who can convince anyone of anything
• His favorite flower is hydrangeas and the ones he hates the most are lilies.
• he calls himself with his last name but never with his first name, since he has never mentioned it.
• One of the employees who has never gone to therapy and does not even attend the monthly psychological evaluations, ignoring that, no matter how much he needs it.
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moonlit-mystery-writer · 2 months ago
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Came back for Celeste x Reborn!! 🤭
send ⌛for a sleep headcanon
send 😵 for a sickness headcanon
send 🏡 for a home headcanon
send ⛈️ for a sadness headcanon
[Talk About Your Muses Ocs]
Ship edition this time!! And I will say, feel free to ask for everyone with Celeste lol. The blurb will just be shorter than they are here lol.
⌛ Sleep Headcanon
Celeste loves to steal Reborn's shirts to sleep in even if she's not sleeping with him that night lol. To her, they're just very comfortable to wear. Sleeping with Celeste tends to bring out the more heavy sleeping side in Reborn though. Often finding himself not wanting to get out of bed or sometimes even slightly groggy despite sleeping the right amount. For Celeste, sleeping with Reborn often soothes her insomnia, at the very least to the point she's able to more easily rest her eyes for awhile even if she doesn't fall asleep.
😵 Sickness Headcanon
So! I mentioned this is a reply a while back now lol, but Celeste gets sick really easily as it's a trait of Mist Flames in my Rewrite world. Conversely, Sun flames like Reborn have really strong immune systems in the Rewrite world. So 9 times out of 10, Celeste is the one who's sick while Reborn cares for her lol. She does her best to be a good patient for him, but she does grow slightly more irritable when sick. So, it's not uncommon for her to get a little snappy at times. (Something she apologizes for later)
Also, now this isn't sickness realted, but it's adjacent so I want to mention it lol. When she's on her period or if she's just having really bad muscle pain, Reborn has figured out a way to use his Sun flames just right to help soothe Celeste's pain.
🏡 Home Headcanon
Gonna use this as if these two were theoretically living together lol. Firstly! Reborn is very neat with his living spaces, while Celeste, though not messy, is pretty cluttered at times. And that doesn't count things like trinkets and sentimental items she collects. The two work through this by Reborn helping her to clean up actual messes (think clothes and such) and giving her plenty of space and storage things for her items. Celeste in turn makes sure none of her mess intrudes on spaces that could be labeled as his. (Think like an office or something) Another thing that'd be something in their home is a shared walk-in closet without any door. Why no door? Because both of them have just bad enough ADHD they will forget they have certain clothing items if they're hidden away in a closet. (Me projecting onto my oc and favorite character? No never, totally not)
⛈️ Sadness Headcanon
It really shouldn't be a surprise one of the biggest sad things in their relationship is their shared grief of Luce. But their different ways of expressing that grief is often a contention between the two of them. Celeste is very expressive with it, often setting aside specific dates just to grieve her. While Reborn prefers to grieve silently and keep on moving along for Luce's sake. However, at the end of the day, the two are often in bed together; Celeste pressing her face against him as she sobs while he holds her as close as he can. Even if they have their bumps over how the two of them do it, they still support each other through their pain.
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pixelatedraindrops · 7 months ago
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Ok, so, this ask is based on the peacekeepers. How would they do with them being sick? I exclude Makoto from this because we know he overworks himself at times and all.
In addition if it were to be with Swank added to this, you can also take in Kuro (my oc) into the scenario if you like.
Sorry I can’t do OCs… But the Peacekeepers hmm let me see if I can make some stuff up (they’re not my favorite so this may be difficult) And yeah I’ve said plenty on Makoto already I get it xD (he’s my antagonist to target :3c)
Okay here’s what I have come up with~
Yomi Hellsmile:
The Absolute WORST patient.
He will complain CONSTANTLY.
With every sneeze or cough, his entire frame hurts and he curses every single time his head starts pounding
And whats with all these DAMN CHILLS?!
His sickbed is full of tissues and spilled cough syrup. And his blanket is a mess too (don’t ask)
If you take care of him, good luck. Most of the gestures will be refused or thrown back at your face.
Until his fever rises to the point he becomes needy and clingy. But even THEN he’ll still back in forth refusing the caretaking or accepting it. (MAKE UP YOUR MIND)
He hates liquid medicine and will only take pills.
Also he’s a little goldilocks with food and tea. If it’s too hot or cold, he will let you know aggressively. (His tongue is very sensitive)
And he may also deny it entirely and try to keep being a little devil making things hell for everyone, so you gotta drag him to the bed (even if he bites you)
Martina Electro
Being ill is but a minor inconvenience to her.
But how she wishes her beloved Director Yomi would come to care for her…
She’s the type that brushes the illness off continuing to work at times if it isn’t too bad.
She cannot disappoint Yomi after all…
Only to get much worse later.
Thankfully, she does know her limits.
She is fairly good at taking care of herself. (As well as of the other peacekeepers if they falter) She’s usually the one caring for them.
Usually wearing a comfortable robe sitting down with some warm tea and medicine so she can still do, some work. But she makes sure paces herself.
If she sneezes or coughs she tries to be as quiet as possible doing so.
She cannot bear to falter…or Director Yomi would be upset with her. (someone help this poor woman ;-;)
Seth Burroughs
A pure sopping wet cat.
If he’s ill, it’s the most pitiful thing you’ve ever seen.
He’s very prone to asthma attacks and at times the rain isn’t good for his health either.
His unhealthy demeanor really doesn’t help. If he catches even a small cold, it will grow to something FAR worse later
He loses his already barely audible voice and has to communicate with a whiteboard.
He also can have food sensitivity, so if you feed him the wrong thing…it will come back up.
Super frail so make sure to handle him like the delicate flower that he is.
He uses his megaphone to try communicating or calling people to help him or if he needs anything. But sadly, it usually breaks out in a coughing fit.
He’s the most prone to illness out of all of the peacekeepers.
Looking at flowers brings him peace so having a vase at his bedside does make him feel a little better.
Guillaume Hall
She is SUPER needy and whiny about it
And she works Dominic like a DOG to try to meet her every need. (Dominic cannot get sick)
She’s a bratty little princess who wants everything to be done right.
She still has her fortune telling gear at her bed and she still practices it despite her poor state.
Or she opens up her laptop and watches something “fun” to cheer herself up. (Horror movies or killing documentaries)
She always wants to eat something sweet. Sometimes sneaking candy under her bed.
She sleeps with multiple plushies.
Her voice gets super deep if she loses it due to illness.
Sometimes if she has a fever or feels chils, she gets a bit delirious and wants Dominic to come give her snuggles.
Until she falls asleep in his large weapon like arms with a smile on her face.
Swank Castonell
He’s similar to Yomi in being SUPER grumpy about being sick.
Only difference is, he is VERY demanding of whoever tends to him.
Ordering them around and forcing them to use “their” money to get anything rather than his own.
His appetite somehow gets higher when ill, and he craves a LOT more meat and booze than usual
But booze isn’t a good thing to drink when ill, so it has to be kept away from him
But then he yells about it. Until he eventually passes out.
His cigar also has to be confiscated. His cough is bad enough already.
He needs to be watched at all times to make sure his usual habits don’t make things worse for him.
Eventually he’ll conk out. But he needs to be in front of a large screen tv playing the most boring documentary you’ve ever seen.
I hope this is something !!
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foozle-woesies · 8 months ago
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Hey bookie I got a question for u
Say Dottore manages to get a partner somehow god knows how 👀 what if said PARTNER 👀 finds out about his crazy kookoo human experimentation ring and maybe kinda doesn't like it? What's he doing.
🪲💉Amenhotep discovers that Dottore experiments on people and thinks it’s lowkey a little sick and freaky and NOT in a cool way.💉🪲
So because of REASONS 👀👀👀👀👀👀
I’m going with Amenhotep for this ask. Not a “dottore X Reader” Deal! Sorry if that’s what ppl want :( but I like my oc and I know u do too LMFAO
So yea! This is my oc. Amenhotep. I posted about him recently.
Warnings: hints to human experimentation and also like. Manipulation and lying. Because it’s Dottore.
Amenhotep was never in the loop about his husband’s job. The living quarters and lab were very separate- both areas were soundproofed (mostly to let amenhotep relax since his senses are heightened), so Amenhotep never really knew what was happening behind closed doors. All he knew was that Dottore was a doctor- he performed odd and new “procedures”, sure, but it was for the greater good… right?
Of course, he never learns about the lab’s happenings from Dottore himself. Sometimes the fatui will have elaborate dances or work parties for the harbingers to socialize like rich people do. Amenhotep, being quite intimidated by the other harbingers, tends to hang around Dottore or the other harbinger’s spouses.
At one of these parties, Amenhotep was standing with the other spouses, seeing as Dottore was busy talking about business with Pantalone. These other spouses were all tipsy and getting into gossip. This ends up with Amenhotep learning that his husband kidnaps and experiments on people… and he doesn’t think that’s a very good thing. OBVIOUSLY.
He feels off for the rest of the night, which Dottore notices quickly. Dottore was always able to detect Amenhotep’s emotions right off the bat- to try and help him, Dottore left the work party early, and inquired about what’s bothering Amenhotep on the walk home.
Amenhotep reluctantly admitted that some of the others had told him what Dottore does for his job. Dottore, who was never one to show much emotion, jumped and seemingly became slightly panicked. This upset Amenhotep even more.
“It’s for the greater good! I don’t just harm or take people! I’d never do such things! I take in legitimate patients! I only do things to cure them!” Are all things that are along the lines of what Dottore would tell him. And Amenhotep would fully believe him.
Dottore had never lied to Amenhotep before- why would he start now? He couldn’t ever see Dottore being a bad person. Hell, Amenhotep had some odd disease that Dottore had never seen before- he never did needless operations and every. Single. Thing. Dottore ever did was to genuinely try and improve his quality of life.
Amenhotep and Dottore’s marriage was happy. They treated each other well, they were fully open and honest to each other- really, they were in the perfect relationship. But Amenhotep realized how little he truly knew about Dottore’s work life. He caught himself shooting an extra glance at the lab doors when he passed them, straining his ears to hear any odd sounds from those rooms, and trying to determine what Dottore had done that day through vague questions.
Amenhotep knew what the fatui was. He couldn’t marry a harbinger and not know. But it had never occurred to him that Dottore would do bad things, even if he was certain the other harbingers would.
In the end, Amenhotep fully believes Dottore is doing things he truly views as “good”. Whether said actions are objectively good or bad, he’ll never know. The thought never fails to unsettle him.
The truth is, Dottore does believe his work is for the betterment of humanity… for the most part. He knows what he’s doing. He knows it’s awful. He’s just a man who prefers to keep his personal life and job separated. Everyone needs a place of normalcy to return to, no?
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chaoticstrata · 9 months ago
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Soup from January prompt for your oc x Rass Ordo.
I am so sorry this took so long. Been in a bit of a writing drought. Thank you for the prompt! :) I'm probably going to expand on this one later--I still very much want to get to this point with my Aketho fic series before I do, though.
Please enjoy!
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“You’re…cooking…”
“Good to know you haven’t lost your observational skills with your old age, Jekiah,” Rass quipped as he tasted the broth. Could use more salt, he thought as he added a pinch to the soup.
“Very funny,” Jekiah snorted, moving over to where Rass was hunched over a large pot of simmering soup. “Why are you cooking?”
“Zabe’s sick, pretty bad case of the flu,” the younger Mandolorian explained, stirring the pot carefully as his brother leaned in to sniff. “I thought I’d make him some soup to help him feel better.”
He tried his damnedest not to blush when Jekiah gave him a searching look, gray eyebrow raised high on his forehead. But his ears had other plans as he felt them heat up--traitorous bastards.
“I see,” Jekiah said, leaning against the counter next to him. “Zabe is the smuggler captain you’ve been working with recently, correct?”
“He is,” Rass confirmed, pointedly not looking at his older brother.
“Hmm,” Jekiah hummed before a soft chuckle escaped him. “Never thought I’d see the day where you’re smitten with someone.”
“I am not smitten--”
“You’re cooking for him,” the older man stated, giving Rass a very pointed look. “You don’t cook for just anyone, Rass.”
For his part, Rass did the very mature action of pouting and looking away. That lip jutted out more as his brother chuckled again. He hated how Jekaih could make him feel like a little kid again. “Yeah, well, Zaberial’s not just anyone…”
“I can tell,” Jekiah said, voice growing soft and fond. It was enough of a change to peak Rass’ curiosity. Looking back revealed his brother smiling at him with…pride? Or something similar to it. Either way, it didn’t help Rass’ blush in the least…bastard. Jekiah didn’t say anything further on the subject. Instead, he switched to asking about the soup. “What recipe are you using?”
“The one that Ma always made us when we were sick,” Rass replied, offering Jekiah a taste, “What do you think?”
“Hmm,” the older man looked thoughtful as he mulled over the flavor, “Not bad, but could use a bit more heat.”
“Everything could use a bit more heat to you,” Rass rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to not scare the captain off…and setting his mouth on fire with what you consider a ‘normal’ heat level would not help.”
“Fair enough,” Jekiah chuckled, “Although it would help clear his sinuses.”
The younger Mando sighed. “I’ll give you that one, but there are easier ways to clear sinuses that don’t require losing the ability to taste.”
“True…even I would take those other methods over spicy food,” the older man laughed softly.
Rass shook his head before nodding over to a nearby kettle. “Since you’re here bothering me, mind getting the water going for some tea?”
“Of course,” Jekiah said, already heading to the kettle to fill it. “Would you like me to pull out the tea as well?”
The younger Mando hesitated a moment. The tea he had in mind would tell more about Zaberial than what he was sure the captain would probably be comfortable with. Especially since he hadn’t even told Rass about it yet--unless the tea was his way of telling Rass. He slightly doubted that. But Tal Sarad tea wasn’t exactly a regular leisurely tea; it was mainly used by Mandolorians to help with menstrual cycle symptoms. The tea was not traded outside the clans save for rare occasions, but since the captain’s brother was a Mando, Zabe could get his hands on it.
Rass knew if he didn’t say anything, Jekiah would suspect something was amiss--although not the reason for it. He cleared his voice and said, “Sure. Tal Sarad.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Jekiah pause and look at him. The older man didn’t say anything, but Rass could see him tilt his head slightly as he mulled over the information given. If he had any thoughts about it, he said nothing. Instead, Jekiah filled the kettle and went about making the tea.
They exchanged small talk until Rass was packed up and ready to go--soup and tea secured in their own thermoses.
“I’ll see you later, Rass,” Jekiah said, patting the younger man on the back. A sure grin spread across his lips as he added. “And good luck in your wooing of the captain.”
Rass’ ears went crimson as his older brother winked at him. “I am not--”
He was cut off by a pointed look at the thermoses.
“Shut up,” he pouted, looking away.
“Uh huh,” Jekiah laughed as he exited the room.
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Tal Sarad is Mando'a for Blood Flower....yes, I'm that lame. >.<
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shion-yu · 1 year ago
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Gave myself almost-pneumonia and my couch looks like a damn stock photo.
Since the whole time I’ve been like, “Am I living one of my shitty fanfictions? Coz this sucks.” Let me tell y’all a story.
Cold weather sucks as a severe asthmatic. I moved to the South so I didn’t have to deal with the frigid winters of upstate NY. I’m basically on and off sick until Spring comes (and then there’s allergy season but I digress). I think it’s helped some, but my lungs are just fucked up ok?
Anyways I went to a concert last Saturday and it was freezing. Then I went to the zoo on Sunday with a friend and it was also cold and swarming with kids who don’t know how to cover their mouths when they cough. It was a great weekend but by Tuesday I was sick - great. I had some warning bc my friend I went to the zoo with said they got sick yesterday. But it just seemed like a minor cold and I’ve been through this a million times, I truly did not think it was gonna get too much worse. My asthma was mostly under control and I rested a lot all week.
Thursday I’m more tired, but I start nebulizer treatments and even skip ice skating class and reschedule it for Saturday bc hey, I’m responsible. But Friday I start to feel worse. Like to the point where everybody at work is like wtf go home and one of them told me she’s gonna get me holy water. But it’s okay, it’s still been SO much worse and I’m really fine.
Saturday morning I wake up and I feel like I’m cured. So I go to ice skating class. And maybe I take a little walk in the rain. Bad fuckin idea. By the end of the day I’m having full blown asthma attacks one after the other and sweating like crazy. My abdomen is aching from coughing so much that it hurts to sit up. But I really don’t want to go to the ER. Not again. So I message my pulmonologist and hope I can just say never mind I’m good now by the time he answers on Monday.
That brings us to today, Sunday. I woke up at 6am after only 4 hours of sleep because I can’t stop choking. I’m sneezing and coughing up fluorescent green stuff, my throat tastes like blood and I have a fever. I really, really didn’t want to go to the doctor but it’s time. I drag my sorry ass to urgent care where the entire hour I sit in waiting, everybody who walks by gives me a ‘goddamn’ look because I’m coughing loud enough to alert the entire damn office. I’m so embarrassed bc what if they think I’m being dramatic and wasting time - again? I awkwardly explain my situation and the doctor sends me for CXR. When it comes back he says “Well, you don’t have pneumonia yet but see alllll this stuff here? That’s inflammation. I’m gonna prescribe antibiotics and (way heavier) steroids and you might have bronchitis already but your asthma is so bad that it’s indistinguishable by now. Also with your lungs you probably won’t be able to tell you have pneumonia until it’s pretty bad.”
So anyways, that’s my week. At least I got a lot of writing done for Whumptober - didn’t have to dig very deep to find enough misery to go around to all my fav OCs lol.
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the-engdyssey · 1 year ago
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Day 4 OC-centric
Title: In Misery
This is a fanfic I don’t really have time to write, but I thought it would be interesting to share the idea with everyone and see what they think! I've tried to add as much detail as I can for this, and I hope you enjoy it!
Gif credits:  Tangerine: @peachyspaceslvt Elizabeth Olsen: @may0osh and @elizabethlailolsenfan
Tag List: @bullettrainpromptweek @phantom-wolf
Prompt filled: Mainly OC centric prompt, pre-canon, and butterfly effect prompts. It’s also an opportunity to flesh out some headcanons about Tangerine that have developed because of the course of this story. 
Pairing: Tangerine x Sarah (Female OC)
Warnings: Major character death, canon typical violence (there's a scene with a stabbing) 
Note: I have included gifs for some visual reference/inspo. My “face claim” for Sarah is Elizabeth Olsen which might be an odd choice to some people. But for context: I didn’t know that Aaron Taylor Johnson  and Elizabeth Olsen had played siblings in a Marvel movie before. I first saw them and really enjoyed their acting together in the 2014 Godzilla movie where they play husband and wife. I thought they were really cute together, and I was disappointed that they didn’t get more screen time with each other. I like their chemistry together, and I hope they act together again sometime. So, when my brain thought of a fic where Tangerine has a girl he’s in love with, I thought of her character looking like Elizabeth Olsen. That said, here’s a bullet point run down of my Tangerine and Sarah fic! (Partly under a cut due to length not necessarily content.)
Sarah meets Tangerine purely by coincidence. She is not involved in the world of assassins or the criminal underworld whatsoever. In some regards, it’s almost as if she “cleans up their mess”. She’s a young doctor for the NHS, and she works in A&E (the emergency room). She often deals with trauma patients, but she encounters just about any kind of sickness or injury in the emergency room of a hospital. She has a few friends lovingly drag her out to a pub one night to let off some steam, because she constantly works, and they fear she never has much fun. She meets Tangerine in that pub, and perhaps she’s a little tipsy, and he’s very handsome. Tangerine on his part clocks onto Sarah instantly. He can’t help himself—she’s exactly the kind of girl he likes. She’s sweet, a little shy at his open flirting but incredibly receptive, the cocktails have her a bit tongue tied (but it's also her nerves at talking to him), but she’s well spoken and intelligent. She’s pretty and cute. He likes her smile, he likes her laugh, and he simply has to have her. Which is fine with Sarah, because he’s the kind of guy she dreams of but thinks she’ll never have because he’s too good looking. There’s instant sparks, instant chemistry, and they wind up sleeping together that first night. And it’s incredible for both of them. Tangerine is an attentive lover in her opinion. He checks before he does anything, but he knows how to navigate his way around a woman’s body. Sarah feels safe with him, which means a great deal to her because she's never slept with anyone she just met, she always waits. She feels confident and sexy with him, and it’s a reminder of how it’s supposed to feel to be with someone. But surprisingly for the both of them, there’s an innate intimacy to being together which neither of them was expecting. There’s a care and a passion for each other that catches them both off guard, but it’s not entirely unwelcome. Despite thinking it’s a bad idea, Sarah slips her card into Tangerine’s shirt pocket and says he can call her anytime before she heads home that night. She assumes he won’t. But he does the next day wanting to take her out on a real date. He promises that he'll be just fine with giving her a kiss goodbye if she wants to take things slower. He really likes Sarah, he wants her, and he’s all in. It doesn’t take long for him to make her feel the same. 
Personally I love the duality of Tangerine dating a doctor, someone who spends their life trying to ease the suffering of others or preserve life, when Tangerine is primed to do the exact opposite. He doesn’t mind hurting or killing other people, the only thing stopping him is an increased likelihood of getting caught. Sarah is an inherently good person who tries to navigate her life according to the edict of “do no harm”. Tangerine most certainly doesn’t. Sarah doesn’t know what Tangerine does for money as their romance blossoms, but her kindness and compassion is what draws Tangerine in further. She is everything he’s never had in his life; true romantic love, friendship, loyalty, compassion, care, tenderness, support. He’s not looking for a woman to take care of him, but part of her loving him is doing exactly that, while he takes care of her. (Being a doting and consistently caring boyfriend is part of his love language, but it’s also him knowingly struggling with his abandonment issues having grown up in the foster care system. He feels like he has to prove to his lovers why they shouldn’t leave him, prove himself worthy of them, but Sarah silently and patiently reassures him that she’s not going anywhere.)
Tangerine is honest with Sarah about a great many things, honest to the point that Lemon thinks he’s an absolute idiot. He tells Sarah his real first name which is Tom. (Yes, I imagine his name is actually Thomas, and everyone who actually knows his name calls him Tom for short. Because Aaron Taylor Johnson was in a movie called ‘Tom & Thomas’ when he was little and because Bullet Train likes to make references to actors' previous roles in other films, this is the hill I’m dying on. Especially because it makes his annoyance with Lemon’s Thomas the Tank Engine obsession all the more infuriating as adults, and because Sarah can harass him by calling him her ‘Tom Cat’, and it makes him cringe so bad his stomach hurts while she’s crying with laughter. To which he inevitably runs after her fully intent on tickling her until she can’t breathe as revenge.) He makes up a last name for him and Lemon to go by, but he also tells her his actual birth date, he tells her honest stories about when he was younger and the people who mattered to him in the past. He even opens up about some of his worst experiences in school and foster care. He tells her the truth of who he is as a person, something that no one really knows except Lemon. Everyone else who does has left him behind in one way or another. He does not tell her anything about his real work, he hides that incredibly well from her. But he actually feels like this girl could be in his life long term, something that he never thought would actually come about, and not lying to her feels important to him even if there are certain key details that he leaves out. 
If I could summarize this story in a single sentence it would be this: No matter how deeply and truly Tangerine loves Sarah, he is nothing but an absolute poison in her life. Because Sarah is inherently good, and Tangerine is someone who is morally gray at best. He is the very antithesis of what she is, what is important to her, despite the fact that he matters to her dearly. Despite cherishing and wanting to protect her gentle and kind nature in a world that easily makes people become jaded, he is an incredibly selfish and manipulative man. He wants Sarah in his life because he loves her. That's the simplest and honest truth. But he also explains to Lemon that having a doctor as a wife would come in handy for the both of them. No more shitty patch up jobs themselves, or hoping that established organizations will take pity on them and let them utilize their resources for a fee, they’d have a trained medical professional to help them out. (And I’m not entirely sure of the legalities of it in the UK, but sometimes spouses can’t testify against each other in court, and if that’s the case, that's an added bonus). So, Tangerine asks Sarah to marry him. Because he loves her, and if Lemon asks him about it, she’s useful. And Sarah, none the wiser and utterly adoring him, says yes. 
But a relationship with a man like Tangerine is not sustainable. The violence that he so desperately tries to keep under control around her exposes itself more and more over the course of their relationship. Getting in the face of someone here. Shoving someone or nearly getting into a fight there. It’s subtle at first, to the point where Sarah doesn’t question it. He's had a past where picking fights was a way of coping and oddly enough, protecting himself. He's always been protective of her as well, but it's become more intense. It’s something she notices, but she misses it for what it really is. She’s never had any reason to believe that Tangerine is a truly violent man. Until she finally sees it for herself one day. She sees the man she’s going to marry kill another (for a quick local contract). It’s not an accident, it’s not a mistake. It’s something bloody and brutal, something she was never supposed to see. Something that brings her whole world shattering down around her.
Tangerine knows that Sarah knows. He realizes too late that she saw what happened, and he rushes over to her flat to try and talk to her when he can't catch her on foot. He’s a tad arrogant enough to think that it’ll take some time and effort, but he should be able to soothe this one over. He thinks Sarah is probably shocked and scared, but he can calm her down, surely. Tangerine underestimates the effect this has on Sarah. He underestimates the Pandora’s Box seeing such an act of violence opens within her. She’s got a head start on Tangerine. She’s able to get to her flat and barricade the door before he gets there. She’s panicking and rightfully begins to question everything. As she begins to look through Tangerine’s belongings that he’s brought over to her flat (he's essentially been living with her for some time), she realizes just how deep the lies run. Fake passports and driver's licenses, numerous burner phones, foreign cash, dozens of weapons all hidden carefully in various pockets of his duffel bags in the bottom of the closet. All things lingering in her space, her life, right under her nose, and she never had a clue. She realizes the man she loves is an illusion. The man she loves is in fact a total stranger, someone violent, a killer, and seemingly a professional no less. Tangerine isn’t stupid enough to leave copies of the contracts or mission briefs around, but she doesn’t need them to understand how dangerous Tangerine is. He’s a murderer, and she’s a witness. So Sarah does the only thing she can think of: she runs. 
It is because Sarah still loves Tangerine, despite knowing that everything he’s ever told her or shown her could very well be a lie, that she runs and instead of contacting the police. She’s scared, but more than that her heart is broken. She doesn’t realize that what Tangerine always showed her was his real self, but the darker, more violent side of himself is his real self as well. While wrestling with the realization that the man she wanted to have a future and a family with wasn’t real, she also begins to question and berate herself. How could she be so stupid? How did she not have any inkling of what he was? What kind of woman loves a man like that? Is she not as bad as he is? He makes a wave of guilt wash over her for loving a man who causes the very harm to others she tries to fix in her profession. Her phone has been buzzing non-stop since Tangerine came back to the flat to find it empty and his things rifled through. Sarah is in a taxi on the way to the airport to catch the first flight out of the UK. She answers though she can’t even see the screen with the tears swimming in her eyes. She should yell at him, curse at him, do anything but already miss him terribly. She can’t. Before Tangerine can even say anything, she simply says, “I’ll never say anything to anybody. I still love you, Tom. I'll always still love you, but I can't stay. Take care of yourself.” She pulls the SIM card out of her phone and chucks it from the taxi cab. Her plan is to head back home, her actual home. Her dad is English, but he met Sarah’s mother and settled down with her in Canada. Sarah has dual citizenship, and the only thing she can think of or wants to do is go home in her time of greatest need. 
Sarah makes a prudent decision by running away from Tangerine, but the problem is she’s not good at running away. Why would she be? That’s not a skill set most people learn. And while Tangerine and Lemon are not as skilled or “professional” as they are by the time they step on that bullet train, they have no trouble figuring out how to track Sarah down. Between budding connections to other operatives with handlers or “independent contractors”, and the fact that Tangerine enabled things like ‘find my phone’ on Sarah’s electronics without her knowing, it doesn’t take long for them to find her. Lemon has had about enough of all of this. He’s met Sarah, he actually likes her very much, he appreciates that she listens to him talk about his interests, he's grateful that she loves his brother like she does, but according to him, “I’m the one thinking with my brain. Unlike you. I don’t know what you’re thinking with, mate, but it’s gonna get us both in trouble.” Tangerine either needs to win Sarah back or he needs to take care of her, because leaving a witness behind is bad for business. Tangerine understands the situation they’re in, but he also refuses the idea of doing anything to Sarah. He can frame it in the context of wanting to preserve her usefulness, but it’s because he loves her. It’s as simple as that. And Lemon isn't stupid, he knows that.
Sarah leaving causes Tangerine’s emotions to go all over the place. He’s stressed because of the implications to his and Lemon’s safety and freedom. He’s a little angry, but more than anything he's hurt that she left. She promised him she never would. And though logically he understands why, it still feels like a rejection of some sort. And he misses her. Her leaving reminds him of all the other times he's been left behind. That same feeling of being a scared little boy who will never see those he cares about again settles in his chest. He hates it, but it shows him how not having Sarah in his life just isn’t an option. It’s a rather warped and selfish way of loving her at this point. When he finds Sarah the first time, he doesn’t confront her right away. In fact, he spends a great deal of time simply observing her from afar as she tries to navigate a life without him. He sees her parents and wishes he could have met them and tried to impress them properly. He sees her settle into new work. He watches her interactions with those around her. He sees the smile on her lips doesn’t reach her eyes anymore, he feels sick that it’s his fault. He sees Sarah safe and helping people as her true calling encourages her to do, and for some time, he considers leaving her be. Trusting her word and letting her have a life without him. But then he sees that she’s still wearing the engagement ring he bought her (and he did buy it, it felt wrong to steal it, he has a sense of pride that he actually bought it in an honest transaction for her), and the choice is made for him. When she’s out, he sneaks into the flat she’s renting. And he sees that she still has room for him in her life. She’s wearing the ring he gave her. There’s space in the closet for his suits to hang up. The double sink in the bathroom has everything sequestered to one side. He can tell she's only sleeping on one side of the bed. He likes to hope she is waiting for him and will be glad to see him. 
She was, and she’s not. She’s been waiting with baited breath for Tangerine to come find her, terrified that he’ll kill her if he does. She hasn’t stayed with her parents because she doesn’t want them to get hurt. When he’s there in her flat when she comes home, she immediately tries to run, but Tangerine is faster and stronger than her. He overpowers her, but he doesn’t hurt her. He tells her to be quiet, but his voice is gentle and loving as always, his warmth is reassuring, the strength in his hands and arms is familiar and comforting. When she goes limp in his arms, crying and defeated, he thinks he might be able to finally reach her. She asks what he plans to do, and he says he wants to take her home. He wants things to be like they were. He loves her, he would never hurt her, and he’s never lied to her. But he continues to lie by omission, never really answering the questions she demands of him about what she saw, what he does, who he is. She asks him if he loves her, and he says yes. She asks why she should believe him, how can she possibly know he’s not lying. He kisses her because he doesn't have the words, and she knows. She knows deep down that maybe he does really love her, but that doesn’t change anything. But she lets him love her for that night. She makes love to him again and again, telling him that she’s missed him, she still loves him, that there’s no one else for her but him. She means every word she says, they're a declaration of love and a confession. But they're also a goodbye. When he wakes up in the morning, she’s not there. She’s not even in the same province anymore. Tangerine is simultaneously furious and amazed that she managed to slip away from him again. He steals something small from her apartment, a little trinket that reminds him of her, and heads out to find her again. 
Every time Sarah runs away, she gets a little better at it. A part of Tangerine is proud of her, but he’s also getting sick of this game. Especially when other men start showing their interest as soon as she's settled down somewhere. Sarah rebuffs them every time. She doesn't want anyone else, her heart still belongs to Tangerine. She also knows full well that if Tangerine caught her with another man, that other man won’t survive the interaction. And after her father has sent a private detective to look into this man he sees as harassing his daughter, Sarah realizes that she might not survive him either. She learns more about Tangerine than she ever wanted to. She knows about the murders he’s been suspected in, she’s seen his previous arrests, mug shots, learns about his dealings with the fringes of organized crime, and it's enough to knock the wind out of her. She knew it was bad, but she never dreamed it was this bad. The private detective, a retired cop, looks at Sarah and asks her, “Honey, how’s a girl like you gotten involved with a man like that?” She takes the silver chain holding her engagement ring off from around her neck and places it on the table. “I said I would marry him.” The private detective just sighs and closes his eyes despairingly, but he’s a decent man and wants to help. “That’s okay. We have places that can help. There are damn good women’s shelters around here, we can protect you—“ “I think you’d better go.” “I’m sorry?” Sarah just looks at him as she places the necklace around her neck once more, resigned to the fact that it’s too late for her. The only thing she can do is try to make sure no one else gets hurt. And this man being here is putting his own life in danger. He leaves very reluctantly, but he can’t force Sarah to do anything. And he promises that if he doesn’t hear from Sarah within a certain time frame, he'll give a letter to her parents telling them that she loves them. After that, she cuts off contact with everyone she cares about, and goes as off-grid as possible. She has to get serious about hiding and running now. 
Tangerine can still find her. He finds her a total of three times. She manages to slip away two. Each time he tells her that he loves her, he’ll never hurt her, he wants her back. Upon discovering that she knows everything, he assures her that he’s never truly lied about anything. But he’ll tell her everything from now on. He won’t keep anything from her if she wants to know, but he won’t say anything she doesn't want to hear. She knows everything now, she sees him in his entirety, will she please come home with him again. And Sarah does see the real him. She sees the man that utterly adores her, and the monster that makes her question her own morality. She’s never taken kindly to people accusing doctors of playing God, and she doesn’t think it right for him to play God with other people’s lives. She doesn’t like the pseudo moral righteousness of Tangerine more often than not killing those involved with organized crime, men who often sell, beat, rape, and murder women and children. He kills men who are scum, and thus his actions could be framed as some sort of service unto humanity. But she doesn’t enjoy the notion of justifying murder– for do those same men not have wives and children who will mourn their loss? It's not her right to place a value on another life or to end it, her calling is to ease the suffering of others. She still questions herself, berates herself for still loving him like she does though she's helpless to stop it. She’s still trying to fight the inevitable, but it’s a losing battle. The fear is waning every time he comes to her, the longing for him is ever growing, the relief at seeing him is near overwhelming. It’s getting harder to leave every time. So when he finds her at a train station that final time, both of them have reached the end of their rope. Tangerine catches up to her but keeps his distance lest he spook her. He's out of breath from running, his three piece suit a disaster in his rush to get there before she slips away once more. And he finally tells her, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry for all of this! I never wanted this for you. Please, love, I want you with me… But I…I understand if that’s not what you want. I love you, but if you step onto that train, I promise you’ll never see me again.” He means it, and he’s willing to keep his word. For the first time, he is willing and able to love Sarah unselfishly, and in turn Sarah is finally willing to be selfish. “Do you still love me, Tom? Really love me. Not because you want me to keep quiet. You really did before, didn't you?” Tangerine can’t help but snap a bit because, “Of course I fucking do! I never stopped! Bloody hell, woman, why do you think I’m here chasing after you?! Why do you think I asked you to marry me?! Sarah, I love you!” She can’t help but smile even if the tears are running down her cheeks. Tangerine prepares himself for his heart to leave with her on that train, only for the girl he loves to run and jump into his arms. The cold air of the train speeding past washes over them as does the relief and elation of finally coming together. He kisses her slowly, adoringly, and asks again if she’ll be his wife. She says yes. He tells her to be a good girl and put her ring back on then. She laughs and waggles her ring finger in front of him, showing that she’d been wearing it the whole time. 
Sarah and Tangerine begin to settle back into their life together in London, though it takes time for Sarah to put the pieces of the life she left behind back together again. There was always open communication between them before, but this time it's easier with no secrets. Sarah can establish the boundary that if Tangerine is going to continue with his work, she'll never help him and Lemon with a job. She'll never be a part in harming someone else. But she will always patch them up when they come home, and he better not get himself killed or he'll have her to answer to. She's got a cute little stern frown on her face and her hands on her hips as she tells him this, and Tangerine just melts. He agrees, because he doesn't want Sarah involved in his world. She's too good for that. But taking care of others, especially those she loves? That's just who she is. Yet a man like Tangerine in Sarah's life is a poison, regardless of how much he tries to protect her. Lemon and Tangerine tend to not see the long term consequences of the various jobs they take. To them, each job is an isolated incident. They feel as outside contractors, they retain the right to bounce from contract to contract without any sort of comeuppance from the various crime syndicates they interact with. Things don't work that way. The Twins work in the fringes of organized crime, but mob bosses do not take kindly to losing their underlings at the behest of another mob. Tangerine and Lemon can take contracts from the Italian/Russian mobs and the Yakuza all they want, but they really are foolish to think there won't be consequences. Especially when they have people in their lives they care about. So when Tangerine and Lemon take a contract to get rid of some Russian mob members for other organized crime bosses, they set off a sequence of events that seals all their fates.
After Tangerine and Lemon kill a group of Russian mobsters in London, the mob’s first instinct is to kill them. Until the local Russian boss (naturally someone who falls under the umbrella of the White Death's control) realizes they're talking about The Twins. This guy likes The Twins, they've done good work for him in the past. It's a shame that they accepted a contract against the Russians. Instead of killing them and losing their future value completely, the boss decides to remind the Twins why loyalty to a good paycheck should never be broken. To not bite the hand that feeds them. The order is given to hurt the people close to them as a reminder to behave themselves. (Can't have Tangerine and Lemon badly beaten, then they'll be useless for any upcoming jobs.) After a couple of the Russian mobsters have been tailing the Twins for a while, the only person they see with them consistently is Sarah. And considering the one with the mustache is the one who seems to be in charge of accepting contracts and she's his girl, all the better. 
Sarah never saw it coming, and Tangerine wasn't there when it happened. Sarah has just finished her shift at the hospital and is just about to pop into one of the shops, before heading to where Tangerine and Lemon plan to pick her up. Sarah walks along a little side street, a short cut to the closest convenience store. A route she has traversed dozens of times without incident. A sudden large hand on her shoulder forces her to turn around, two hulking men with tattoos before her. Before she can pull away and run, before she can fight back, or yell for help, one of the Russians has a knife buried in her belly. The shock of the injury leaves her dazed at first before the knife is pulled out, warm blood following in its wake. She's stabbed again, the agonizing pain that suddenly hits her would make her scream. Instead, it steals her breath as does the force of the blade being driven into her. Five stabs in total, four in her abdomen and one in her chest. Sarah collapses after she staggers away a few steps. The other man roots through her purse taking her ID as she struggles to breathe, struggles to speak past the searing pain with every movement. Her scrubs are soaked in her own blood, and she focuses on not passing out. She hears the two men speak in Russian, doesn't know why her mind latches onto that detail. She tries to look at their faces, but it's a fog, and she knows it's because her blood pressure is dropping. She also knows the signs of various organs and blood vessels sustaining damage during a stabbing. She knows that her injuries aren't good. But she just has to wait for them to leave, wait until they assume she'll be dead soon, and then she can properly put pressure on the wound, call an ambulance, call Tangerine– her phone smacks onto the pavement before a heavy boot crashes down onto it. A heavily accented voice tells her, “Tell him he should have known better. Tell him to be on his best behavior. We know where you live.” Sarah nods weakly and finds herself alone. If not for her injuries, she'd question whether or not those men had even been there at all, or were they just phantoms from the shadows? She yells for help as best she can. She tries to get her phone to work to no avail. She tries to get up but realizes that sensation in the lower half of her body isn't as good as it should be. She can't rise to her feet, and she doesn't have the strength to drag herself along the pavement. Her breathing sounds suspiciously wet. The only warmth she can feel is her own blood. She puts pressure on the wounds with what little strength she can muster, forcing herself to stay awake. It's a losing battle. She's slowly dying. 
Despite Lemon’s rebukes of needing to trust Sarah more, that she's just running late, she hasn't run off again, Tangerine can feel something is wrong in his gut. As Lemon is chastising his brother, Tangerine pulls up the tracking app that he's once again put on Sarah's phone. The one she still doesn't know about. Lemon is about to tell Tangerine off further when the look on his face makes him pause. He glances at the phone. The little dot signifying Sarah's phone is stationary. Lemon assumes it's because she's in a shop, while Tangerine feels his heart drop into his stomach. She's stationary in an empty side street at night. Tangerine can't help himself from rushing out of the car to where Sarah is according to his phone. He keeps calling her, and she doesn't pick up. A visceral fear takes hold of him, worse than the turmoil he felt the mornings he would take up to discover Sarah had run away from him again. He gives up using the phone to call her and yells out for her instead. It's a flash of teal, the color of her scrubs, in his peripheral vision that allows him to find her in the dark and quiet of the side street. He's on his knees beside her in a second, and his heart is pouring out over the pavement along with her blood. He doesn't even recognize the tears in his eyes as he dials 999 and tenderly takes Sarah in his arms. He gently encourages her to wake up, holding her close to give her his warmth, her blood soaking into his clothes. She's pale and clammy, she's groggy and her eyes are a little unfocused, but she's alive. She's looking at him and saying his name, and therefore she's as beautiful as she's always been. His lips are all over her face and though Sarah can't return the affections, she's appreciative of the warmth. He asks Sarah to tell him what to do to help her while they wait for the ambulance. Instead, she tells him about the men who attacked her. All the fragmented details she vaguely recalls and the warning they had left her with. Sarah asks Tangerine to be careful, and the fact that the woman he loves is dying in his arms but her kind heart is more worried about his safety, breaks him. She's never seen him cry. Very few people have. But he holds her close and weeps in worry and regret, kisses her lips to cease the gentle reassurances falling from her lips. “It's supposed to be me telling you it's okay, not the other way around.” “Tom, tell me everything is going to be okay.” “Everything is going to be fine, love. You're going to be fine.” And he makes a silent promise that he'll kill them for this, but saying it out loud will make her worry. “Love you. Always have. You know that right? Love you so much Tommy.” “I know. I love you too. So much that I won't get mad at you calling me Tommy.” It makes her smile but barely. His voice is barely above a whisper as he continues, “I've never loved anyone like I love you. You're my dream girl, you know. I've…I've wished for you my entire life. Please don't leave me yet. Stay awake for me Sarah.” Her eyes fall closed, her breathing shallow. Lemon comes to his side as the sirens draw closer. Tangerine’s desperate pleas for Sarah to wake up go unanswered. 
Lemon has to help the EMTS to get Tangerine to let her go so they can get Sarah in the ambulance, and he drives them both to the hospital. He sits with Tangerine the entire time as they wait for updates of Sarah's condition, squeezing his brother's shoulder or neck in reassurance. Tangerine lets him do it more than once, a sign of how distraught Tangerine is. Lemon apologizes to the nurses at reception when Tangerine snaps at them if they refuse to give him any information for privacy reasons. Lemon helps ease the burden of the brief encounter with the police asking initial questions about the incident. But they won't know more until Sarah is out of surgery. Lemon urges Tangerine to clean himself up in the bathroom, because Sarah will hate to see him look like such a mess. Lemon is also right beside Tangerine as one of Sarah's closest friends at the hospital comes out to speak to them. The look on her face says everything before the words tumble from her lips. Lemon is there as his brother's heart shatters before his eyes. Sarah died during emergency surgery due to the severity of her injuries. Lemon takes hold of him as a grief so profound overtakes Tangerine that he nearly sinks to the ground. The last of Tangerine's strength is the only thing keeping a scream erupting from his throat and sobs wracking his frame. Tangerine never liked to cry, not even when they were kids. Lemon never had that problem, and he still doesn't. His eyes shine with tears for this brother and the girl who he looked forward to having as a sister in law. His friend. Lemon pulls Tangerine to a quiet place and says nothing as his brother falls apart. It's the first and last time Lemon has ever seen Tangerine mourn anyone in their lives like this. And he realizes with the greatest despair, that Sarah was the first and last woman that Tangerine had ever or would ever truly love. 
Tangerine is never the same after he loses Sarah. His hurt morphs into anger, a wrath against others that reaches new levels. Tangerine was not Sarah's husband legally. He was not her next of kin. He had no say in where she would be buried. He was certainly not welcome at her funeral. Regardless, he lingers in her Canadian home town to visit her grave, leaving flowers every time, often as he can before he leaves again. He and Lemon have another job coming up. Lemon thinks it's a bad idea. Tangerine has to work otherwise his grief will swallow him whole. It's wet work. And a part of him realizes that Sarah would be disappointed to know it's work that demands he takes the lives of others. But the ember of compassion Sarah fostered within him left along with her. The next job the Twins take is the Bolivia job. Tangerine accepted it because the group down there supposedly had connections with the Russians. The Bolivia job was an absolute blood bath due to his rage born from grief. A showcasing of his wrath. There was no compassion. No humanity. The rumors spread about The Twins begin to refer to them as “insane” and “psychopaths”. Tangerine likes that. The Bolivia job made him start to feel better, though it can never begin to fill the empty space inside his soul. The only regrets Tangerine has about the Bolivia job is how unprepared Lemon seemed to be for it. And that his newfound reputation as a psychopath was not given to him in time to save Sarah. He often thinks that if they all knew what he was really capable of, then maybe they would have thought differently about touching what was his. Maybe Sarah would still be alive. 
The butterfly effect of Sarah's death leads to Tangerine being how he is by the time he and Lemon step on the bullet train to Kyoto. His anger lingers. He snaps at Lemon much more than he used to, but Lemon doesn't really take it to heart. He knows when to push back and when not too. Tangerine’s fuse is a lot shorter than it used to be. He's polite for the most part, but cold with others. He's always attracted the attention of women, and even a few men, but his overall demeanor shows that he is completely unavailable. Tangerine can't even begin to think about being with someone else. But Lemon also knows that Tangerine's heart has not gone cold, it's broken. Where Lemon forgot the innocent civilian they caused the death of, Tangerine remembers. Mainly because he thinks of how upset Sarah would be over it. What little conscience he has left is the small piece of Sarah that lives on inside him. But at the same time, he can be derisive towards the pain of others. He's remarkably callous when talking about the fatal accident of the White Death's wife. Tangerine understands that pain, to him Sarah was his wife, but he doesn't feel sorry for the White Death. To Tangerine, he's part of the Russian mob, so there's a sense of vindication. A sense of ‘it sucks to lose her, doesn't it?’ But the irony is, Tangerine couldn't possibly know how full circle things have come. The Russians took Sarah away from him, he played a part in the chain of events that lead to the White Death's wife dying, and by stepping on that train, he's signed his own death warrant. Tangerine also holds no sympathy for the White Death not having left his compound because Tangerine has a thought process of ‘Well I got over it and got back to work. And you have kids. You've no excuse to hide yourself away.’ It's a thought process that holds the bitterness and anger of grief and a distinct lack of self awareness. Sarah's death is also why Tangerine frets over Lemon like he does. He wasn't there for Sarah. So when Tangerine finds Lemon knocked out in the silent car, he assumes the worst. It causes the seed of anxiety to bloom in his gut. By the time Tangerine gets kicked off the train and has to punch his way back in, his fear of it happening again has run away with him. He knows Lemon can take care of himself, but Lemon is the only person Tangerine has left. Tangerine's worst fears are realized when he finds Lemon in the bathroom. Lemon has been shot, and Tangerine wasn't there. He wasn't there again. He failed those he loves again. He's lost a loved one again. He's all alone. And something inside him snaps, the last link in the chain of events leading to the end of his life. 
Lemon has Tangerine cremated after his body is recovered from the crash site. He thinks about keeping the urn so he doesn't have to let his brother go. He thinks about spreading his ashes in numerous special places in England. They never talked about what to do if one of them died. Talking about it made it seem too real, but Lemon thinks that's silly now. He just wants to do what his brother would have liked, and the only thing he can think of is to let Tangerine finally be with Sarah. To let them both rest. Lemon goes to Canada, goes to Sarah's small town and sees it with different eyes than when he accompanied Tangerine with the intention of getting Sarah back. It feels like a lifetime ago. He almost breaks down at the realization that for Sarah and Tangerine it truly was a lifetime ago. He goes to the cemetery in the evening with a shovel, intent on burying the urn with Tangerine's ashes on Sarah's plot. An unmarked grave, but not alone. Lemon is interrupted by Sarah's mother. He hurriedly explains that he knew Sarah. That they were friends. Recites details about her that make her mother's face melt from confusion and horror to a bereaved smile as Lemon says a silly little phrase that Sarah used to say all the time. Someone else who really knew her daughter, bore witness to the wonderful person she was, gives her an odd comfort despite the bizarre circumstances. She nods at the urn, “Who's that?” “His name was Tom. He was in love with Sarah. He wanted to be her husband.” “Is he the Tom she was running from?” Lemon can't look at her as he nods and says, “Yes, Ma'am. But he loved her. He really really loved her, and he never hurt her. I promise you that.” “I know. I could tell by the way she talked about him. She was just as crazy about him. Even when she was scared of him, she adored him.” Lemon can't speak due to the tears, and Sarah's mom comes closer. “Were you going to leave him here with her?” He nods. “Yeah, but…I'm sorry, I'll go–” “Don't go,” she gently reaches out to touch Lemon's arm. Loss is a universal language, the companionship and understanding of another going through it a precious commodity. “I don't mind if you let him stay with her. I'd like that. I think they would have too.” Lemon is amazed at how kind she is, how giving and forgiving. But he realizes Sarah must have gotten it from somewhere. He can see Sarah in her mom, and as she helps Lemon dig a small hole to nestle Tangerine's urn into, he thinks about how he would have enjoyed getting to know her family. Would have loved the idea of him and Tangerine having a family with Sarah and her relatives. When they're done, and before he can awkwardly shuffle off, Sarah's mother asks if he'll come have dinner with her and her husband. A friend of Sarah's is always welcome in their home. Though she also asks that this be their secret for now, Sarah's father isn't ready to forgive Tangerine. And she also asks that Lemon keep the fact that Tangerine was his brother a secret for now once she finds out. Sarah's father isn't ready yet, but in time he will be. For now, it's important for those that loved them to be together. Because for Tangerine and Sarah to be remembered by the ones that love them is the surest reminder that they existed. 
Thank you so much for taking the time to read this! I hope you liked it! I swear I do love Tangerine and I do love Sarah despite the ungodly levels of angst. They are together forever at the end, and Lemon and Sarah's family have each other from that point on. In the spirit of Bullet Train, something good always comes out of something bad. 
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artfightdramaconfessions · 11 months ago
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Alright, I have a confession to make & a bit of a vent into it. I purposely broke one of artfight rules that is making the drawings before the event started, I know I will get a lot of hate form just saying that. But the reason why? So I can help the team get a little bit of a head start. & Hopefully that will help them to win later on, I'm just so sick and tired of losing. I feel like I just wasted a whole month of work just hoping my team will win, but I let myself down disappointed & very infuriating, I spend all this time for nothing really. I somewhat risk my hand just to draw & drawing more only to lose. Furthermore, I get it's supposed to be fun, I get that, but I feel like it's a competitive game of it, It's just a chore just to draw other people's OC's & knowing you will not win. When steampunk vs cyberpunk one, I felt like it was my fault for making my team lose & not drawing enough & was not good enough. I bashed myself with horrible words to make me feel bad & should be ashamed of myself. I hate that feeling, I want to have fun. Not hating myself for this. So when Withered VS bloom was on, I purposely cheated & Again in Vampires vs werewolves. But lose AGAIN. How so much fun just to lose again & again, It generally made me feel insecure about it. & all my artwork. I hate that feeling, I just want to have fun & not worry about it & I hate being so fucking competitive, I probs going to get a lot of hate from this but just want to get my own thoughts out and hopefully. I'm not too sure if I will join next year. But time will tell.
And another thing I like to add on, Just a bonus thingy.
Seeing so many people like popular YouTubers or artist get their character draw and getting attack like 20 - 50 times a day from other people made me wish I had that, instead of me waiting only to get attack once per day. I became jealous & Evny it of their fame & attention, I want that pride & joy. I want everyone to love me. I wish I had that, And I wish every day & one day to get famous. It's that desperation I want so badly in my life. But sadly I feel even more insecure about my artwork, & looking at their artwork I'm just starting to hating them seeing them getting success & I want them to fail. But at the same time, I want them to see them getting success. I'm not sure why I feel that way, I really don't know. I want people to love my OC's & stories but seems that nobody really gives two shits about it sadly. I just want that feeling of being constantly being attack & getting so many attacks that may seem so overwhelming to a lot of people, But for me. I'm up for that shit. That's where I see artfight fun in my eyes, being attack so much & fighting back is where the fun should be, Only getting one attack PER day is so boring that I rather work on something else & that shit sucks.
Alright. Now that's done, And I feel better just letting it all out, I like to know your thoughts on it. Thank you. I would not be surprise if I get hate on this. I want to be the most honest in here as I can, It may hurt some people here but, It's better being the most honest then being a shitty liar. I hate liars.
.
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candikin · 2 years ago
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Woo, hopefully nobody gets mad at me for this like Picsart would for this, but welcome to...
How I think my main OC would interact with other OCs!
(reminder that it says think, not actual. I am not the creator of anybody mentioned here other then Lexi Mary. I am also apologizing for the people who got @'ed)
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Accordion and Violin (OCs by @bluetorchsky)
I don't think they'll get along super well. Now don't get me wrong, I don't think they'll be enemies but I just don't see them really being friends. She'll probably be too scared to talk to them anyways as she's a big coward and I mean... look at them compared to her, they could absolutely destroy her if they wanted too. She'll probably wave when walking pass them once she warmed up to them though!
Jay Benson (OC by @jaytoons7)
Hmm, probably would get along a little bit. There's nothing Jay can really do that could scare off Lexi, and Lexi canonly has friends who are kinda like Jay. I just don't see them seeing eachother that often, and they probably wouldn't have that many special interactions. Just some casual acquaintances that could develop into a tiny friendship
Scottie Anderson (Also by @jaytoons7)
Lexi would 100% be scared of Scottie at first. I am not sure if they would ever be friends because Lexi can be a bit... annoying at times. I don't see them being complete enemies though, specially since Lexi is almost never at the kitchen and Lexi always tries to make things better by helping
Amelia Copperbottom (OC by @androidcharles)
Oooh! I see them getting along very well! Lexi never gets scared from children, so there's no way she'll be scared of Amelia. They have quite a lot in common. The only problem is Lexi is in desperate need of a friend who also isn't a stickfigure/human, so she might vent dump to Amelia on accident
Danny Felizima (OC by @capturecharlesau)
It HEAVILY depends if Lexi overhears about the curse before meeting him or not. If she does, as she most likely is as she's secretly very nosy, she would HATE him. She would absolutely blame Danny and constantly fight Danny for no reason other then the curse. And probably lose... everytime. Well until she finds out Danny has motion sickness, then he's screwed
If she didn't, they would probably would (and surprisely) become friends. They do have some stuff in common, it's just nobody expects Lexi to have that side of her when everybody thinks she's innocent (have fun guessing because I am not going to explain how they are kinda similiar). They would probably have secret conservations, specifically with letters because Lexi doesn't trust saying things out loud. Lexi would try to convince Danny to stop his dangerous actions. She would probably feel too bad to leave the friendship if she ever hears about the curse at this point
Benjamin Suave (OC by @fluvvie)
They would probably be acquaintances, despite Benjamin working for the government. Not enemies but not really friends... until she hears about his trauma. It doesn't matter if it's because Benjamin told her or if she overhears it, she'll feel terrible. She knows what is it like to have a very terrible family member. She will basically start getting really attached to Benjamin and protect him at all costs, expect at times where she knows she'll get in big trouble with the Toppat Clan.
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I'll probably make a part 2, I just ran out of OCs that I know enough info about
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deepperplexity · 2 years ago
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Prompt: 11. Forgotten Gift
Pairing: Snape x Fem!OC
POV: Dual (Snape, Third & OC, First)
Setting: Hogwarts
Continuation of: 10. Gingerbread & Peppermints
A/N: I hope December is wonderful for you darling, over here it’s been a bit of a madhouse and my daughter is yet again sick (preschool life 😂) but we’re doing well. Except I seem completely incapable of writing short things and a fic a day is no easy thing to do for an entire month - so the length doesn’t really help but I hope you’re enjoying my shenanigans! 😅💚 Let’s dive right back in where we left off yesterday right away! 😍
Tags/TW’s: Emotional Hurt (No Comfort), Mutual Pining, Confusing Emotions, Revelations, Confessions, Low Self-esteem, Judged by Appearance, Slight Jealousy
Word Count: 4.6k+
Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3 // LINK TREE
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≪ Rosanna’s POV ≫
I hugged myself as I stood by the large windows in my new, temporary office. The grounds spread out below, covered in snow that glistened in the moonlight. It felt strange to be back at Hogwarts five years after my graduation. To walk the halls, and see parts of the castle previously unavailable to me when I was a student. A lot of things had changed about me, very little had changed here though.
I couldn’t help but wonder if professor Snape ever even reflected on the holiday gift I had sent the first Christmas after I had graduated, three months after having become something other than a student. “Probably not,” I sighed and shook my head with a wry smile, feeling slightly dejected.
I wasn’t usually so… dreary in my mood or thoughts but seeing him again, coming to terms with what I thought had been a mere teenage crush being more, it put me in quite an uncomfortable state. What was I supposed to do about the feelings I had in my heart? I was nothing to him, he even looked at me with a grander coldness than before — when I was the invisible student professors usually glanced over. I wasn’t a brilliant scholar but I worked hard, I wasn’t loud or surrounded by friends but I had been quite happy about my life — which wasn’t quite normal when it came to life during these evolving years.
I was just regular, normal, overlooked but probably somewhat appreciated for being one of the kids the professors hadn’t had to think about really. It was different now, though. I grew up, my body evolved and I went from the flat teenager to the curvy adult. My hair grew thicker, like my grandmother’s, and my face lost the childish features only to take on the beauty of my mother. I noticed it, and so did others. But honestly, I preferred my looks before I became the one people took a double take on. Before I turned heads, before I couldn’t tell if someone was a friend or just looking to get lucky.
Honestly, it sucked. But I did learn to use it to my advantage when times were hard. Unfortunately, it also meant that people gave me a chance just for my looks, but didn’t keep me around after they knew there was nothing I was willing to offer of myself to them. None even cared enough to look at my work, or notice my ethics, or talk to me about anything of importance. “Snape did though, when I wanted to learn about more difficult potions… But, that was me just trying to get his attention so really, I’m as bad as everyone else. But I was a teenager,” I blabbered out to myself and shook my head once more before turning to get some order established around my new desk — currently cluttered and littered with books — just to distract myself from the cold feeling in my chest.
I gathered up a heap of books to put on a trolly when the door swung open, startling me enough to make the books clatter to the floor. I didn’t have time to think about it though. “You,” professor Snape said with a slight huffing to his breathing while standing in the doorway. “M-me, professor?” I asked, not knowing what to think while my heart sped up just from him being near. “It was you,” he continued while stepping in with long strides, his cloak swishing about behind him.
My eyes widened at his harsh but strange tone. “I-, it was me? I’m sorry, professor, but I don’t know—” “Five years ago,” he said and stalked up to me, “you sent me a Christmas gift, peppermints.”
I blinked at him, not understanding why he barged into my office, talking about the gift I’d sent all those years ago in hopes of-, well, something foolish. “I-, yes, I did,” I said, fidgeting with my hands in front of me. “You didn’t like them? Was it the wrong kind?” you asked, almost certain you had bought the exact kind he usually carried with him in a small satin bag. It was one of the things you had noticed while admiring the man from afar.
Snape’s eyes widened, his back straightening. “For months, I wondered who had sent me a Christmas gift, you left no note.” “Oh, I-, well I didn’t really want to-, umh, well I didn’t think-, I just thought you-,” I stuttered, unable to form any real meaning when he looked at me so intently, his onyx eyes fixated on me. “Are you always this eloquent?” he asked in a rumbled drawl.
My entire face burned, even the tips of my ears hidden behind my thick hair. Is he angry? “Miss Kindra,” he said harshly, “why did you send me that gift?” “Because I liked you-, because I like you.” WHAT AM I SAYING?!
Snape blanched, his lips slightly parting while his smaller eyes widened. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, professor!” I nearly shouted out while holding my hands up and out. “I shouldn’t have said that, I’m so sorry. I—” “This is nonsense,” he snarled.
Before I had time to speak another word he had spun around and stalked out of my office, the bookcase door left wide open while I watched him disappear with stiff shoulders and his cloak billowing behind him from the rapid pace to his long strides.
I took a stumbling step to the side, finding purchase on the side of the desk while my knees shook and trembled. The warm blush was replaced by cold dread turning my tanned skin paler than usual. What have I done?
≪ Severus’s POV ≫
The door to his quarters slammed shut while he strode ahead; his chest tight, his heart pounding. Her words rang in his head, unfathomable. Yet he walked right up to his bed, pulling open the drawer of his bedside table.
The content rattled and there, furthest in, it lay. The satin bag those peppermints had come in was as pristine as the day he received the gift. He reached out and took it, his thumb stroking the smooth fabric while lifting it up.
‘I like you’ rang in his head in her wondrous voice. The laugh he’d heard in Dumbledore’s office echoed in the back of his head, warming his chest which felt unnaturally tight. Why can I not remember you? He wondered while racking through his memories for any glimpse of you, surely he’d remember someone like you?
He spent the rest of the night wondering, trying to find out who you had been all those years ago when that gift had arrived in the Great Hall during the Christmas dinner. Minerva had spent quite some time teasing him about the secret admirer who’d gifted him his most favoured treat, that he incidentally always kept close. One of the few pleasures he afforded himself. He hadn’t thought anyone took notice of such a thing, it was never visible that he had one usually resting under his tongue when he wasn’t teaching.
When morning arrived he felt stiffer than usual. At the very least it was Sunday, meaning no classes and fortunately no detentions to deal with. So he dressed and headed to breakfast while doing his utmost not to think of what happened last night while he stalked through the halls decorated with garlands and other knick-knacks he paid no mind to.
The hall was nearly empty at the early hour, most students sleeping in and professors having breakfast in their own quarters. So he sat himself down and grabbed the mug of black coffee which appeared before him.
“Good morning, professor.” He damn near choked on the hot coffee when her happy voice took him off-guard. He glared up at her, her smile faltering and her tanned cheeks took on a hint of a blush. “Sorry, professor, I’ll just-, umh, alright,” she stammered out in a rush and moved three chairs away from him. “Snape’s at it again,” he heard a girl whisper. “Poor Miss Kindra,” another said, “she seems so nice.” “And so pretty,” a boy chuckled while Severus focused on his coffee. Disregarding the whispering students while he hardened his features as his heart had sped up from her sudden appearance by his side.
He still hadn’t managed to remember her from before. No matter how he searched the faces in his memory she wasn’t there. There was none like her he could remember. But, truthfully, there was something else about her that had nothing to do with her looks which he felt strangely drawn to. The laugh, her voice, the way her eyes positively twinkled and the sweet way she seemed to always blush when someone looked at her. Why she would do so when she was such a beautiful woman who surely got looked at plenty often he could not fathom.
“Miss Kindra,” a seventh-year boy who had dared step up to the teachers’ table said and Severus turned his head with a flurry to tell him off for disturbing the woman during her breakfast but his words got stuck in his throat.
She was smiling gently at the boy. She looked stunning, but not at all like she had looked a moment ago — flustered and nervous. Her fingers weren’t fidgeting, her eyes weren’t twinkling and her smile was sweet but not quite the smile he had seen her with before. It looked more friendly.
“Could I have some help with a book?” the boy asked while fixing the strap of his bag, the tips of his ears were bright red while he looked at the woman. “Mr Colin, certainly, you can find me in the library in an hour.” “Thank you, Miss Kindra, I’ll bring the others.” “Oh, others?” she asked, her eyebrows raised a bit and the boy pointed with his thumb over his shoulder where four more boys sat by the Hufflepuff table.
Something in Severus’s chest tightened while his mouth thinned at the eager looks they all sent towards Miss Kindra. Yet, she seemed thoroughly unaffected and simply waved to the blushing boys filled with teenage hormones. She’s been here less than a day and they are swarming to her, he thought and why it bothered him so much he couldn’t quite tell. She seemed like someone who could easily be taken advantage of with that sweet smile and inviting looks.
His hand hardened around the mug’s ear. But it wasn’t his place to say anything, the woman was old enough to take care of herself, being in her early twenties he guessed while he was just a month away from turning thirty.
He gritted his teeth, took another sip of the coffee and found it unappetizing while his entire body acted up as he tried not to look towards Miss Kindra. Nonsense, he thought to himself and stood up to leave. Not before he noticed the blasted woman looking towards him with that infernal smile that looked both nervous and inviting at the same bloody time. He simply arched a brow at her, hardening himself on the outside while his insides seemed overwhelmed by her. There was truly something about her that he could not help but be drawn to. Something about her that he felt different about than he’d done regarding anyone else before.
He strode off, not affording the beautiful woman who’d not long ago had said she liked him another glance — even if it took all his strength not to look back as he exited the Great Hall. The words still rang so clearly in his head and he did not know what to make of them, what to think of them. Or her. Just her looks were enough to turn every head when she walked by, and he found her absolutely enchanting to view but it was what lay in her, something he couldn’t term yet felt inexplicably drawn to. Something that resonated with him. Even the manner in which she looked at him was different to how she appeared to look at others — did he terrify her as he did all else?
≪ Rosanna’s POV ≫
It had taken over two hours to deal with the gang of teenage boys ogling her, not truly listening to her words but giving her their full attention. This was a bad idea, she groaned at herself while resting her head in her hands, elbows on her desk where she was hiding away in her office.
She drew a deep breath and tried to quench all the emotions raging in her. She had hoped Hogwarts would be a different environment to work in but of course not. She was surrounded by raging hormones. How stupid she had been to take the temp job, not that I did it for the work… I just thought-, hoped, ugh, I wanted to see him. Why lie to myself?
My eyes watered as I remembered the countless places I had found work, and each place had been the same. Drooling men, envious women, grinning boys and inappropriate comments coming from all ends — making me uncomfortable and all too aware of where I stood in society according to others. Was this how mum felt?
I pushed my fingers into my hair, snivelling as my tears began to flow. It seemed history was to repeat itself over and over, no matter where I went. Not even the place where I had been of no importance, where I had been just some student, allowed me to be something other than a walking ogle-attractor. “Why is it always like this? I have more than my looks to offer…” And he doesn’t even look at me, I thought perhaps I’d at least get that as a reward for living with this.
I sighed and straightened up, lacing my fingers and squeezing my hands to centre myself. “But he just glares at me, like he dislikes me more than anyone else…” The words felt heavy to utter and something in my chest hurt terribly at it. It was the one thing I’d hoped I’d gain from looking like I did. The one thing I could get out of it, having the attention of the only man I had ever truly liked… And he seems to hate me, from the second he saw me in the headmaster’s office.
I snivelled anew and dragged my hand under my nose before wiping my cheeks of the tears.
A knock came from the door and I hurried to shake myself out of the dreary mood, clapping my cheeks a bit to stop the tears while putting on a smile. “Come in!” I called while walking around my desk and the door opened slowly. Once more he was there, standing in my office like a tall shadow filling the room with his presence and snagging my breath with his dark eyes glaring at me.
≪ Severus’s POV ≫
His step faltered when her eyes found his. The chocolate colour seemed duller than a few hours ago, her eyes and cheeks reddened, puffy. Crying? Why did that thought hurt so severely within him?
He cleared his throat discreetly while the door closed slowly behind him. “Professor, I’m not in the right frame of mind to entertain at the moment,” she said and the way her voice sounded so bleak compared to before stirred something in him. Touched a memory long since forgotten. “Can this wait?” she asked while her arms came up to hug her own midsection. It drew his eyes to the ample breasts hidden behind a tightly fitted blouse. He flicked his eyes back up to her face with haste. She seemed to not even have noticed, thankfully.
“I have something for you,” he said and produced the satin bag he had been clutching behind his cloak. Her eyes widened as he held it out. “You-, you kept it? All this time?” she asked and the way her fingers reached out to touch it had his spine stiffening. “I did,” he said with a rumble far darker than he wished.
She looked up at him and made her hand retreat. “It was a gift to you, it’s yours, professor,” she said and smiled meekly at him. He wanted to step closer, study those warm eyes that he felt belonged to someone that wasn’t the woman in front of him. “I cannot remember,” he said, still holding out the bag for her to take back, “and someone like you should be impossible to forget.”
His eyes widened as a loud laugh burst from Miss Kindra, the reaction not what he’d thought. “Because of this face? These looks? This body?” she sighed out, almost exasperated while holding out her hands — showing all the beautiful curves of her shape. Yet his eyes remained trained on hers. There was something familiar about them in the state she was currently in.
“I hoped-, I thought-, but no, no of course the only man I’ve ever-, I should never have taken this stupid job!” she exclaimed while turning around and hugging herself anew while walking over to the windows, her shoulders drawn up for a moment before she exhaled deeply and they sank back down.
There.
In that moment.
He knew. He remembered.
“You wished to learn about healing potions,” he said in a low rumble while his mind finally managed to place her. An old student of his. But she had looked nothing like she did now back then, her entire aura was different. Closed off and… hurt. That’s what he had sensed, that was what he had felt resonating with him on the inside when he looked at her. A sense of deep hurt.
“Rosanna Kindra,” he exhaled as he connected the dots between the past and the present.
≪ Rosanna’s POV ≫
I exhaled, my lungs stiffening within my chest as he spoke my name for the first time. I hadn’t thought it would make me feel so discouraged. I had always thought I would have marvelled and loved it, but now things were different.
“I remember now,” he said quietly. “You asked to be tutored outside classroom hours, yet you never seemed to fully pay attention,” he continued harshly. “Of course not, I’m as bad as those boys,” you sighed while shame crept beneath your skin. I’m no better… “Boys?”
I spun around, finding him a mere step away from me with his brow lifted in a perfect arch. “I’ve just spent two hours being ogled by teenage boys,” you said while you tried to not think about how you found him so extremely handsome. “And I should be used to it, always being stared at and having the most inappropriate comments thrown my way with smirks,” I continued while I tried so damn hard to not allow my eyes to roam the man before me.
“And I did that to you back then,” I exhaled, having to turn my head as I couldn’t look at him with the raging of my heart mingling with the guilt I felt from all those years ago when I was young and foolishly blinded by hormones or what other nonsense have you — so what’s my excuse now? “Did, what?” he drawled. “Ugh, you’re going to make me say it?”
Snape nearly sneered at me. I sighed. “I had a huge crush on you, professor,” I confessed anew. “A crush?” he asked, apparently confused, or in disbelief. “Yes, I had a crush on you. A massive, foolish crush on my professor.” The words felt awful to speak out loud, even more so when spoken to the man himself who I still bloody liked beyond reason.
“I thought-, well, I hoped-, ugh,” I groaned and threw my hands in the air while pacing back and forth in the office, feeling his eyes follow me each step. “I thought maybe, now, when I look like this you’d-, I don’t know! I thought you’d notice me,” I said while deflating in the middle of the room. Snape still stared at me, unmoving.
“I thought, this damn curse of looking like this would at least give me a chance… But you-, you only glare at me. Stalking away from me, looking at me as if you hate me and now-, now I feel so stupid for having come here thinking you’d notice me like everyone else always seem to do and maybe these looks would finally be good for something.” “Curse?” he asked, his voice a bit stronger than before. “Figure of speech,” I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose with my other hand on my hip.
“You think me indifferent to your… appearance?” he asked and I looked towards him, my hands falling to my sides. “Of course you’re indifferent, nothing gets your attention. If it’s not a student breaking a rule or something,” I said with a humourless chuckle. “One of the things I like about you… You’re not swayed by anything,” I continued honestly. “You have no idea,” he said, sending shivers down my spine with that thrumming voice of his. “Clearly, looks aren’t everything, Miss Kindra. Yours being…” His eyes wandered up and down my body at that and my limbs stiffened under his eyes.
“Being, what? Not to your liking?” I asked, readying myself to hear those dreaded words as my looks felt like all I had left. “Most pleasing,” he said, and I blanched for a second. “You like how I look?” “I’m no blind bat,” he gritted out with a huff. “But looks aren’t everything, you said.” “Looks can be… deceiving.”
I threw my hands up into the air. “Of course, now I’m a deceiver too, fan-frikking-tastic! I just can’t win, can I,” I exclaimed and sighed, feeling myself turn sadder by the minute. “You know what, just leave, Severus. Just leave if you’re going to glare at me like that and say such hurtful things.” “I am not glaring at you.” “D’you need a mirror?” I huffed while crossing my arms under my boobs, resorting to a temper tantrum rather than to allow my tears to fall from the pain in my chest. Seven bloody years, five, bloody, years away from him and still...
≪ Severus’s POV ≫
She was infuriating. He couldn’t understand how the words he had planned to say never got a chance to be uttered and now he’d upset her something fiercely and he had no idea what he’d done to make her react in such a manner. That he himself was upset about seeing her in such a state he couldn’t quite figure out either.
“Miss Kindra,” he sighed, “I merely came to return the bag and thank you for the cookies.” “Of course you did,” she grumbled. “Will you cease with this-, this behaviour?” he asked while clenching his fists, feeling a terrible need to hold her. “What behaviour? I’m hurt, Severus!” she shouted but all he could do was marvel at the way her voice sounded his name. It sounded beautiful for the first time in his miserable life.
“By Merlin, my life’s gone to the dogs,” she said and he couldn’t keep from stepping up to her. She was in reach and he wanted to tell her that her looks were captivating but that was not what seemed to touch him each and every time he saw her; was close to her.
“Tell me, Miss Kindra,” he began quietly, “how did you plan for all this to go?” he asked with an arched brow, feeling quite hot and bothered in her viewing of him so up close. “How I’d-, what?” “Have you looked at me?” he asked, straightening his back but taking no pride in his appearance. He wasn’t handsome, wasn’t attractive in any manner really — that wasn’t anything new to him and it had been five years since the woman before him had been his student when he was younger, twenty-four years of age.
“I’ve done nothing but look at you,” she said quietly, her voice heavy and he took half a step back at the honesty in her voice. “And you-, like me? You?” he asked, feeling uneasy and off-kilter under that warm look she offered. “For a long time.” She’s playing me for a fool, he thought while his lips thinned and he leaned forward, getting up close to her gorgeous, blushing face. “You are a terrible liar,” he snarled. “You’re blushing and averting your gaze, unable to look me in the eye while you speak lies.” And I won’t be made a fool of.
A small gasp escaped her lips while she looked absolutely horrified, hurt again. And then something about her changed. Her shoulders squared and she appeared to bristle under his gaze, forcing him to straighten while she became positively thunderous a head below him.
She poked his chest with a slender finger, her nails perfectly manicured. “How dare you?” she hissed. “How dare you!” “I am—” “Oh no, no you seal those lips of yours and listen,” she scolded while pushing her sharp nail into the fabric of his frock coat. “I have spent years, years longing for you, thinking about you wondering what I could ever do to reach you,” she said while taking half a step forward, getting up close and personal while he remained ramrod straight.
“I have been attracted to you for seven years now, and I knew I could do nothing about it as a student, looking the way I did and being absolutely nothing special,” she said harshly while her eyes watered. “And here you stand, saying I’m not allowed to like what you look like? That I can’t like you because I look like this?” “I did not say—” “Didn’t you though? Didn’t you just say that, Severus?”
He opened and shut his mouth, twice, lost for words. For he had. He judged her out mostly for the way she looked, for surely someone looking like her couldn’t possibly like his appearance? Yet it’s not the looks, it’s that infernal feeling you are exuding when you look at me.
“You never even took notice enough of me to recognise my handwriting, which you spent seven years reading,” she said and pushed once with her nail before lowering her hand. “Maybe I should judge you out for judging me now that I look like this?” she nearly snarled at him and he felt his mouth dry up. For he had been judging her ever since he had laid eyes upon her in Dumbledore’s office.
“Leave,” she said coldly, “before another forgotten gift is dragged out of history.” “Miss Kindra, I—” “Just leave, professor Snape,” she sighed while turning around dismissing him completely. For once he had no words to speak. He felt like a scolded little boy for the first time in years, and rightly so. But the manner she held her shoulders up, how she seemed to tense more and more for each passing second, had his heart in a twist. For, perhaps, she had been completely honest and now he had managed to ruin yet another chance at something… beautiful. Something he thought himself not worthy of.
So, he turned and walked away, opening the hidden door. “I apologize,” he said quietly. “For not remembering and, now…” All he got in return was a deep sigh from her, her back turned against him. He closed the door and headed off towards his private quarters with thudding steps that seemed to turn heavier and heavier to further away from her he went.
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A/N: Well, that certainly didn’t go as planned for either of these two love-birds, did it? Do you think they can figure it out tomorrow? 🤔👀💚
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[Dec:2022]
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sneezyonmain · 4 months ago
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OC Post- Zylros Steelheart
Shout out to my good friend, whom I shall refer to henceforth as Vanilla Brit, for allowing me to use his wonderful characters for fet content. I'll be tagging his stuff with "vbrit ocs" as well as standard tags. DISCLAIMER: All of my OCs are actually my friend's and I's DnD characters, used with permission. Some details may be a little confusing as I've taken their standard backstories and modified them to fit a modern fantasy setting. I'll list the class for anyone curious, but it won't come into much use unless they're a spellcaster. CW: Mention(s) of parental abuse, ableism, disordered eating, nsft themes, and firearms in a non-violent context
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(Picrew credit to Brightgoat's Bright's Picrew Hell, Baydews' [BAYDEWS' avatar maker!!] V2, Crowesn's TIefling Maker, and Makowka's makowka character maker II)
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Name: Zylros Steelheart
Race: Half-elf (high elf), White
Age: 23
Sex: Male
Pronouns: He/Him/His
Sexuality: Bisexual (in denial)
Class: Gunslinger Fighter
Height: 5'7"
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Green
Occupation: Weapons development intern
Basic Description: Zylros has slicked back black hair, a thin-lipped face and green eyes that are more often than not narrowed in a judgmental expression. Being half elven, he appears skinnier than a human of the same height, though carries more weight than an average elf. He wears black, round glasses and fitted, button-down shirts. His skin is very clear and smooth, his nose is plain but slightly longer than average, and he has semi-pointed ears inherited from his elven mother.
Background: Zylros was born to an elven mother and a human father. His mother married his father because he was a decently wealthy shareholder in a weapons manufacturing company, even though she wasn't fond of humans, because her family had fallen on hard times. They divorced soon after Zylros was born, and shared custody, though his father's work meant that he was more often than not with his mother. His mother was generally cruel towards him, policing how much he ate and how much he weighed so he would look "more elven", and denying any of his struggles with mental health. She insisted he learn about holistic elven remedies and traditional practices, but he found the ideas to be archaic and stupid. As he grew older, he found a passion for business, science, and the creation of firearms, not unlike his father. At the age of 23 he works as an intern at his father's company while he studies at university. Personality: Zylros struggles to make friends, and defaults to being rude as a defense mechanism for feeling inferior. He replies on dry wit and sarcasm to get through interactions when he cannot do so with intellect alone. He pushes people away to avoid awkwardness, as he is very bad at carrying conversations normally. He has little patience for stupidity and things that annoy him. He has difficulty opening up and expressing his interests, and rarely appears friendly or happy. When he does open up, he has a quick sense of humor and an appreciation for niche jokes that only certain people will understand. He craves validation and affection and probably has mommy issues.
Snz Info: While he doesn't often get sick, Zylros has allergies to grass and flower pollen. He stifles his sneezes, as they are squeaky and loud and he finds them embarrassing. He isolates when he is sick and doesn't allow people to help him, as he hates how stuffy and messy it can be. Fun Facts:
He has a pet cat named Sir Scritches, who is his only friend. He would die for that cat.
He was born in the states but has a British accent, as both of his parents are from the UK.
He has ASD, though doesn't ever talk about it and has trouble acknowledging it due to his mother's insistence that he doesn't actually have it.
He is a severe germaphobe, and washes and sanitizes his hands aggressively. He wears a mask when he is sick because he doesn't want people to see his face and/or see how unsanitary he is.
Throughout high school, Zylros had a lisp and a stutter, and that combined with his severe acne at the time meant he didn't really have any friends.
He has an electricity kink.
He still wears dinosaur pajamas.
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