#hazel ocs

[practically-an-x-man]

💚 true love's kiss / magic kiss / healed

For Rose and the boys?

Ooooh I've got a fun idea for this! Hope you enjoy!

____

You are pure magic, my love.

Said to her in the mornings, half awake and hunched over a steaming mug of coffee.

Said to her in the evenings, with the brush of a kiss across her forehead as she went off to bed and he went off to some late-night tinkering.

Said to her in the battlefield, witnessing the power she'd learned to harness both within and around her, her connections, her heritage, her roots to the world around her.

Egon Spengler was not the most expressive man, not often so open with his emotions or the softer things in his heart, but this was one small concession he always gave to her. Those words; never minced, never diminished, never without meaning. Sometimes more, sometimes not, but always those. And that was enough.

You are pure magic, my love.

It never felt more real than when he sputtered it out, burned and bleeding and barely clinging to consciousness, clutching her hand with what little strength he had left. Ray was on his other side, failing to swallow back his tears.

And like so many other times in her life, Rose Hawthorne didn't have the slightest idea of what to do.

It had always been a terrifying thing, but now it was more frightening than ever. She'd been lost her whole life, flying on whims and hunches and nothing but her own instincts, and she was still shocked at how things worked out in the end. World-ending apocalypses and dragons and demons and vengeful twins... and somehow, in the end, this scared her more than any of that.

Because this, in the end, was so much closer in hand, and so much closer to her heart.

She thought she should say something. At least. She thought... if this was the end, and it really was starting to look like the end, with him so wounded and with the ambulance still minutes off, then she should make sure it was all on the table. All the love she had for him, the way he'd saved her life time and time again, the way her home wasn't complete without him, and everything else too deep even to name.

Instead Rose was frozen, paralyzed with the same indecision that had plagued her her entire life, watching the focus slowly drain from her lover's eyes.

Ray reached over and took her other hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He was as hollowed as she was, just as choked with emotion.

Egon gave her hand the faintest tug, hardly more than a twitch, but it was enough. Rose knew what he wanted- and it pulled her from her indecision, not a moment too soon.

She leaned down and kissed him, praying it would be enough to show him everything he meant to her. It would never be enough, she thought, but... it was all she had.

Rose Hawthorne was pure magic.

There was no bloom of warmth. There was no spray of light. This was not a grand magic. This was not a dragon or a faerie or a grand shift in the cosmos.

This was the many little magicks that flowed through every day of her life. This was for all the times she was in the right place at the right time. This was for every extra heartbeat, every struggle back to her feet, every extra step when all she could do was pick herself up and move forward. This was the magic that granted her those small miracles, that brought her family to her, that kept her strong enough to survive the bad times and make it to the good.

This was a soft and invisible magic, but it was the most powerful, immutable magic that existed.

Egon's hand squeezed hers again, this time with strength and resolve. When Rose pulled back, there was a new spark in his eyes despite the wounds still painting his skin around it. The blood had slowed, the burns had softened, and he was clear and steady despite his lingering injuries.

Little miracles.

"I told you." he whispered, with a faint and slanted smile, "Pure magic."

[practically-an-x-man]

Sending you a no-pressure, take your time, I know you've got a lot going on ask for your take on Abi? *big grin*

Ooooh sure! Let's see what I can get put together...

____

Artie was in a funk. It had started when dislocating his shoulder meant he was benched from the day's mission, and there was no end in sight.

His mood brightened faintly when he finally saw Abi walking down the hallway towards him. There were tired bags under her eyes and her braid had come undone, but she was paradoxically light on her feet for the long day she must have had. She practically skipped towards him, dancing to some internal music, and damn if that didn't draw a smile from him despite the ache in his injured shoulder.

She slowed as she neared him, and tossed something from one hand to the other. It was roughly the size and shape of a billiards ball, clear glass with a splash of flowering blue in the center. Abi stopped in front of Artie, grinning up at him.

"Look at this." she said, holding the ball out to him for a closer look. He'd have bet it was once intended as a paperweight or some other decorative bauble. He'd have bet just as much that it was the artifact she'd liberated from the mission.

"Shouldn't that be down in processing?"

"I'm on my way," she replied, "But I wanted to have a little fun first. Do you know how hard it is to find an artifact in a pawn shop? I mean, name me one thing that couldn't be magically-inclined in a place like that."

"The owner." he fired back without missing a beat, and Abi chirped a bright, surprised laugh.

"Touché," she said, and gave the ball another casual toss, "Anyway. This thing's pretty neat. As long as you're touching it, everything you say has to be the absolute truth."

Her expression shifted, lighthearted spirit becoming a foxlike grin in an instant.

"Want to know what I really think of you?" she teased, and pressed on before he could get a word out, "I think you're a grumpy old man who needs to take things a little less seriously once in a while."

Artie frowned at the words. The stormcloud that had been hanging over his head all day only continued to darken, and he opened his mouth to protest. Abi got there first.

"But I also think you're incredibly handsome, genius-level intelligent, and pretty damn sweet when you put your mind to it. I love you dearly and I'm so glad I can share my life with you," she concluded, and then her seriousness shattered and she gave the ball one more flippant toss, "And I need to get this down to processing."

She flurried down the hall before he could stop her. Her words left him reeling, echoing over and over again in his head. It warmed him, even through the budding confusion over that whole situation.

He spied another agent further down the hall and sped up to meet him. Compliments aside, Artie had questions- and perhaps a few concerns. It wouldn't be the first time he'd run into Abi intoxicated by an artifact.

"Excuse me," he said, and the other agent turned to face him, "The artifact Abi was carrying, the glass ball, do you know-"

"Artifact? No, that's-" The man looked confused, and did a double-take down the hall before he continued. "The artifact we recovered was this antique grandfather clock- er, the pendulum inside it, technically. Made time slow down around it unless it was rebalanced every morning. It's already down in storage."

"Then what was the...?"

"Oh, that? Abi just picked that up for herself. Saw it on one of the shelves, said it was pretty. I think she was going to put it on her desk."

The agent walked away, leaving Artie twice as confused as he'd been before. Not an artifact. Just... Abi.

A smile crossed his face before he could stop it, and the stormclouds finally dissolved into clear skies.

Way to go, sunshine.

[practically-an-x-man]

Plot that I think will do you psychic harm:

Rose, after the Sanctuary and school is successful: the school is the target of a random gun violence event, dude just wants to "suicide via freak".

Rose dies first, ghosts. As she realizes he's still killing, she feels everyone die one by one, and as they die, she loses more of her memories and self, unraveling until she is an empty spirit of grief and fury. When Winston and Peter come back to deal with things, they mistake the ghost for the killer, and Bust her, and trap and contain her.

I could never really write this

So, here's the thing... this is definitely a dark, painful plot, but I can't say it's giving me psychic damage because I know you wouldn't ever write this. Y'know, like... it definitely feels like a plot FOR the ask game, so it's hard to really see any massive weight behind it.

I'm not sure if I'm really expressing this well, but I think the reason it's not really giving me psychic damage like the ask game suggests is bc it's very much designed to be the darkest, most gratuitous angst possible, and because of that it just doesn't feel like something that would exist to be written- at least not by you. I guess it's almost a little too much to be really scary? The shootout definitely hurts, but some of that ghostly business almost gives late-season Supernatural vibes (which is to say, cool idea to an extent, but also kinda feels like they're throwing things at the wall because they need something to stick)

This isn't to insult your writing in any way, and I hope you don't take it as such! You're a wonderful writer! This is just a little too much to really strike me, and I know it's not something you'd really be keen on writing.

here's a Concept (tm) for an ask meme. describe to me a fic you would write specifically to give me psychic damage

[practically-an-x-man]

Because I trust you, I am handing you Abi and Rose to see how you Whump them.

Ooooh, alright!! They're so near and dear to my heart, I almost don't want to whump them, but let's see what I can come up with.

Abi: I'm thinking some lower-grade whump for her, more mundane ongoing horror than one defined event. We'll look at her in the early days after coming back to her physical form. She's just spent decades as a ghost, and that's bound to have some physical and mental effects on her.

She's a lot quieter than she used to be. Not all the time, of course, when she's in a conversation she's really in it, but she has a habit of sorta... fading when the conversation turns away from her. She's grown used to being invisible, unnoticed, and when she has nothing to add to the conversation, she starts to disappear.

I'm meaning that metaphorically, of course, but... to take things a step further, what if it wasn't metaphorical? What if, after so long spent a ghost, she really does start to fade into the background when she's not actively engaged with others? She doesn't physically disappear, she just starts to... go unnoticed. It's worse in some areas of the Warehouse, where the magic that turned her into a ghost still exists in stronger ripples, and it's hard for others to even remember she's there at the worst of times. She's gotten her physical form back, but it's a long time before all those magical echoes finally quiet down.

____

Rose: I may have done longform mundane whump for Abi, but I'm putting Rose in a Situation. Of course, we're going to go ghostly with it.

I'm calling this the House of Mirrors. Rose enters an old haunted house and finds that it's full to the brim of funhouse mirrors. But on close inspection, these mirrors don't exactly show her. At least, not in her current form.

Each mirror shows a different piece of her soul, a different life: past, present, and future, each a different rendition of Rose in her many lives. She walks through the house and marvels at them, all lined up before her in these mirrors.

Now, that isn't particularly whumpy. In fact, it could almost be beautiful, this visual of her looking at her many lives, some familiar and some entirely new.

But then she touches one of the mirrors.

It was hardly even intentional - she spotted one where she seemed to have the perfect life, where she's raised in a loving and stable home, exactly what she didn't have in her current life. She's happy with the life she has, but... she reaches out, a little entranced, and touches the mirror.

And all of a sudden, it is her life. Not just that she's been teleported into it, but like it's always been her life. She's always known her parents. She's always grown up in the picturesque suburbs. Her connection to magic is gentle and warm, and always has been.

Outside the funhouse, Ray and Egon suddenly feel their soul-connection to her cut off - again, not like she's died, but like they were never connected to her to begin with. Because she's had such an impact on their lives, they haven't forgotten her entirely, but the memories to start to fade (Back to the Future style)

They go in, aiming to rescue her, but they're struggling to keep focused and remember what they're here for. And Rose, on the other side of the mirror, is struggling with the same: she knows this isn't her life, but the longer she's here, the more real it feels.

Long story short, Ray and Egon managed to smash the mirror and rescue Rose just before she fades from the current timeline entirely, tense near-miss and a loving reunion because I can't bear to make things too devastating for Rose and her loved ones.

What do you think?

[practically-an-x-man]

care to consider crossovers with Abi?

Sure!! Let's see...

I think Abi needs to investigate some strange circumstances surrounding my OCs, which could open it up to a LOT of different options, honestly.

She could be called to investigate the strange regenerative clover in Gia's shop - perhaps assuming that the clover is a separate entity where prolonged exposure causes enhanced healing, rather than the truth that Gia and the clover are genuinely linked and the clover only affects her

She could be called to investigate Jimmy's little carnival teddy bear, much like Ray does in HIYH. In the main fic, the bear is completely benign, but if I were to write a crossover then I might give it some genuine magical properties just to make things more interesting

Quinn scoops up some artifact (I'm thinking some kind of bird skull picked clean in the desert, and she picks it up to turn it into a punk necklace) and discovers that it eases all her pain and slowly seems to be healing her injuries from the fall... but at some sort of magical price (maybe it starts to degrade the people around her, like the artifact is siphoning strength from them to give to her). Abi comes to investigate, introduces her to the paranormal world, and removes or destroys the artifact before things get worse.

Or just a whole crossover where Abi and other members of the WH13 crew go to investigate the NATM museum and the tablet? Including some fun interactions between Katherine (with her mythology-based perspective) and Abi (with her artifact-based perspective)

Send me one of your ocs and I'll list any/all crossovers I can think of for them

[practically-an-x-man]

It takes Kat a moment to realize Misty is looking at her patiently, primly, with an awkwardly braided ribbon around their neck with a note attached. An inspection of the note will show a scribbly crayon drawing of a black cat and a white cat snuggled together with suspiciously blue magical hearts and stars surrounding them. It says TO KAT in careful but haphazard all caps, in crayon, FROM WILLOW

"Aww, look at this," Katherine said, holding out the letter to Ahk, "Looks like Rose has a little artist."

He came up to her side in an instant, lacing one arm around her waist as he took the note with his other hand. A faint smile grew on his face as he looked it over.

"That's our Mefkat and their Fidget?" he guessed, "With... an awful lot of filigree."

"C'mon, she's a toddler. That's how toddlers draw. I'm sure you made little doodles like this when you were a kid."

"Hm. I was more fond of terrorizing our cats, I think," Ahk responded, shooting her a brief and amused grin as he spoke. Katherine snorted.

"Let's be grateful Willow doesn't feel the same. I'm not sure that one would turn out very well, pulling the tails of two magically-inclined animals."

"I'm sure Mefkat would be very patient with her."

Katherine shot him a look.

"Have you met these gods?"

"Can't say I've had the pleasure," he shot back as he bared her a wide, teasing grin. Katherine bit her cheek to hold back her laughter, though she couldn't help leaning faintly into his side.

Ahk looked over the note once more, tilting his head at the little drawing.

"Do you think we should send something back?" he asked.

"We should..." Katherine agreed, honey-colored eyes flicking back and forth across the drawing. After a moment she snorted, shaking her head, "I have the worst idea right now."

"Hm?"

"Sending a drawing back. Like a kid drew it," she said, biting back a swell of mischievous laughter, "I mean, she'd freak. Her mom-instincts would kick in so hard, I swear."

"My dear..."

"C'mon, it's not like she'd really believe it! Not for any longer than a moment or two, at least," Katherine argued, "I mean, we're both young, you know I'm ace, and you're technically dead half the time- it's not like we're becoming parents any time soon."

Ahk was silent, looking at the letter with a strangely intense expression on his face. Katherine frowned.

"Okay, so... maybe it's not as funny as it was in my head," she said, shifting on her feet a little, "We can just send her a 'congrats' instead."

"You know that I would do my best, Katherine," Ahk mumbled, seemingly out of the blue. Kat opened her mouth to respond, to ask for clarification, but his eyes darted up to hers and he spoke again, more intently, "If something were to... to happen. Even if it wasn't mine by blood. I would raise your child as my own, as well as I could in my situation. I hope you do know that."

"Well, I- I know. But nothing's going to happen, nothing can happen."

"I'm sure," Ahk agreed, "But... just in case. If something happens, even if Bastet decides she'd like another heir and works some strange magic on you, I'll always be here. Perhaps not entirely prepared, but... here."

"Bastet is not going to be turning me into the Virgin Mary," Katherine huffed, half-amused and half... a little frightened at the thought, "But thank you."

Katherine turned her thoughts inwards, directing them at the desert and the shimmering veil that lay just beyond the confines of her mind.

That wasn't an invitation, by the way, she thought, the words echoing in dual languages in her mind. She felt the presence of the goddess slink in on gentle paws, could almost see bright amber eyes watching over her.

I did not take it as such, Bastet replied in the same canary-song, Though I will ask Mefkat to deliver your response with care.

The following afternoon, the cat returns to Summerville, carrying a small basket with odd focus and strength. Inside can be found a short note of congratulations, alongside a few plush toys... and a lot of coffee.

[practically-an-x-man]

Oooh, can you do my top three female S/Is? :D

Thanks!

Sure thing!

Rose is a little blue (fairy) penguin!

Abi is a Wilson's phalarope! (one of only a few bird species where the female is more colorful than the male; the female is on the right)

Jess is a peregrine falcon!

[practically-an-x-man]

Too easy? LOL

What is it about "too easy?" that makes my brain completely stop working? Lol

I'm gonna guess Abi?