#even with Obes greying hair

[ninjigma]

RexObi Week Part 2/7 - Previous / Next

Day 2: Cave Exploration Track: 'Sun' - Sleeping At Last (Spotify / YouTube)

"Do you really know where we are going Kenobi?"

"Faith my dear, have faith."

"I do, but I also have a perfectly good beach behind me that we completely bypassed to wander around these caves for something you still won't tell me about."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, but his smile never wavered. They had headed out on a small excursion of sorts, Obi-Wan having read about the caves extensively before arriving on the planet. He had been trying to find things that may satisfy a man who is usually living his life in a much faster pace, and in his reading he had discovered something he really thought would do the trick. Caves that were interspersed with long cervices open to the sky above, threading and swirling over and around the coast. It created the perfect opportunity to explore, and some wonderful treasures hidden amongst the dark stone.

Or, at least, he hoped it was perfect. It was his first real moment of doubt as they came to another junction and there were more markings on the cave wall then he thought there should be. But he was pretty sure the partially written over symbol was the one he was looking for, and tried not to show his wavering as he headed to the right.

"Well then, I ask for your patience. We should almost be there."

"Should?"

"Ahem," Obi-Wan straightened himself, turning back toward Rex who stood taller then him anyhow. "I mean, we are."

Rex raised one lean eyebrow, the corner of his mouth going with it. It was honestly a look Obi-Wan couldn't help but associate with the clone even if it was someone else attempting it. Though no one could do it like Rex; the perfect arch, conveying so much that those on the other side of it never needed the question said. And with that smirk there was the addition of feeling like the punchline in a joke that one could never fully understand. Yet Obi-Wan would continue to tell the joke himself so long as it brought Rex this much joy, simmering beneath the surface of honey brown eyes. That if Obi-Wan was given the opportunity to see that smirk, that side eye of disbelief, the look that said nothing but doubt even though he knew Rex had absolute trust in him, then it was worth all of the laughter at his expense.

And when Obi-Wan's only response was to hold out his hand and Rex took it as easily as breathing, Obi-Wan felt that even if he did get them lost, as least they had gotten lost together.

It was an unnecessary worry though as the next bend showed light shining from below. Stone steps were carefully carved into the stone here, making the steep tunnel much easier to traverse. And Obi-Wan couldn't help the rush of excitement again. He could hear the gentle lap of water at the bottom, could see how it shone from further in as they descended, and happily squeezed Rex's hand without even realizing it until the clone laughed quietly.

"Excited, sir?" 

Obi-Wan hoped a bit that the shadow of the caves was still strong enough to cover the blush, but he didn't deny it. He stopped to allow Rex to roll his pants up some, the water curling over the most bottom steps and their mesh covered feet, and then realized there was no chance he could hide as Rex reached out to take his hand again and he couldn't stop the smile from overtaking him.

"Perhaps a bit. From what I read it seems like it will be a beautiful spot."

"For what?" Rex asked innocently, Obi-Wan watching as he stepped into the water with him and the water alone made the clone smile softly. 

"For you."

Rex's eyes flickered back up, and Obi-Wan made sure to let the adoration be plainly visible on him. That his thoughts on how much he wished to give Rex, how special he thought the clone was, and how much he loved him, was obvious. Even in the Force he allowed the feelings to reach out and let it swirl around Rex like the water beneath them. For just a moment the waterfalls could wait. For just a breath Obi-Wan let things stand still and his love for Rex be at the forefront of everything. 

Then it was another quick squeeze of the hand, and a turn back into the cave. It was only a few more turns before the movement of water around their feet became drowned out by the thundering of falls, and the light finally began to truly pierce the darkness. 

"Ready?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Have you ever known me not to be?" Rex responded boldly.

And with another small laugh of utter joy Obi-Wan led Rex around the last corner, to take in a sight that was full of life and light and joy. Greenery managing to grow amongst stone, light danced down the waterfall and sent cascading reflections across the roof of the cave they were in, birds flew and danced about each other, both playfully clumsy and gracefully beautiful in the funnel to the blue skies above. There were even flowers demanding the chance to live even this far down, and there were new endless tunnels sprouting away from them to be explored. 

"It's beautiful," Rex breathed next to him. And Obi-Wan couldn't help but turn toward him, take in once again how the light around Rex made him look so bright and full of life. How it sparkled in his eyes and the water reflected across him.

"Yeah, beautiful."

And if the clone caught the horribly cheesy attempt at flirting, and then kicked water at the near lovesick Master Jedi, only for said Jedi to return the the water with raucous laughter and the start a near juvenile splashing match, then that is only for them and the parrots squawking happily above to know about.

@rexobiweek

[solxamber]

Hi! I've been thinking abt hanahaki lately, so I wanna see your thoughts on how OB boys handle hanahaki?

Idk I've feel like I've been thinking too much lately.

Overblot Gang x Reader (Hanahaki)

hi! thanks for the request <3

Riddle Rosehearts

Red roses are a traditional symbol of love and passion, but also perfectionism.

It started with a cough. Just a small, insignificant cough. But Riddle Rosehearts, ever the rule follower and disciplinarian, dismissed it as a minor inconvenience, despite the occasional stray petal that would land on his perfectly polished shoes. He didn’t dare look too closely at the flower. He knew the bloom too well—the telltale sign of unspoken love: red roses.

Riddle spent weeks trying to suppress the symptoms. He even scheduled extra tea sessions, convinced that a well-brewed Earl Grey would soothe his throat. But nothing worked. Every time he caught sight of you helping Ace with his homework or smiling brightly at Deuce, another rose would bloom in his chest, sending petals into his lungs until his coughing fits became more frequent.

One day, as you were organizing some papers in the Heartslabyul common room, you heard Riddle let out an uncharacteristically loud cough followed by the clinking of ceramic.

"Are you okay, Riddle?" you asked, peeking over your shoulder.

"I-I'm fine!" he spluttered, quickly shoving something into his pocket. His face was flushed, though whether it was from embarrassment or lack of oxygen was unclear. But as you moved closer, you noticed a bright red rose petal caught in his hair.

"You’ve got something in your hair—wait… is that a rose petal?" you asked, eyes widening in realization.

Riddle froze, his hand instinctively reaching up to where the petal had been. He sighed, clearly defeated. "I… may have developed a small case of hanahaki."

You raised an eyebrow. "Small? You’re practically growing a garden!"

Riddle’s face turned an even deeper shade of red. "W-Well, it’s because of you…"

It took a moment for the words to sink in. Then it hit you like a ton of bricks. "Wait. Me? You like me?"

Riddle looked down, nervously twiddling his fingers. "Yes. I’ve been in love with you for a while now. But I never had the courage to say anything."

You smiled softly, stepping closer and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Riddle, I like you too. You didn’t have to choke on roses to get my attention."

His eyes widened, and the redness of his face softened into something warmer—hopeful. "Really?"

"Really." You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "Now, let’s work on getting rid of those flowers, shall we?"

Leona Kingscholar

Sunflowers represent adoration, loyalty, and longevity.

Leona Kingscholar thought he could out-stubborn his hanahaki. After all, he was the second prince of the Sunset Savanna. What were a few flowers compared to his iron will? But as soon as the bright yellow sunflowers began to sprout in his lungs, even he couldn’t ignore the constant tickle in his throat.

Every time you visited Savanaclaw to drop off some notes for Jack or just to say hi, Leona would immediately turn away, trying to suppress the blooming in his chest. He figured if he just kept avoiding you, the flowers would go away on their own. Spoiler alert: they didn’t.

One day, you found Leona lying under his favorite tree, seemingly asleep. Except for the fact that his face was slightly scrunched up, and he was… holding a bouquet of sunflowers?

"Leona, are you okay? Why are you holding a bunch of—"

Before you could finish your sentence, Leona sneezed, sending a spray of sunflower petals flying everywhere.

"Seriously?" you said, crossing your arms. "You’re allergic to flowers now?"

Leona groaned, sitting up and glaring at the petals scattered around him. "It’s not allergies, herbivore."

"Oh. Ohhhh. This is hanahaki, isn’t it?"

Leona’s ears flattened against his head, his tail flicking irritably. "Tch. Yeah, whatever. So I’ve got hanahaki. Big deal."

You smirked, leaning down to meet his gaze. "So, who’s the lucky person that’s got you coughing up sunflowers?"

He shot you a look that could melt steel. "Don’t make me say it."

"Say what?" you teased, grinning. "That you have a crush on me?"

Leona’s lips curled into a frustrated snarl, but he didn’t deny it. You, however, found it oddly endearing. You sat down beside him, resting your head against his shoulder. "You know, if you just said something sooner, you wouldn’t have to deal with all this floral drama."

Leona sighed, finally letting his pride crumble. "Yeah, well… I guess I didn’t think you’d actually like me back."

You smiled, slipping your hand into his. "Looks like you were wrong, prince."

Azul Ashengrotto

Forget-me-nots symbolize true love, remembrance, and the desire to be unforgettable.

Azul thought he could handle it. After all, he was a master of contracts, deals, and manipulation. Surely he could manage a little thing like hanahaki, right? Wrong. The moment forget-me-nots began flooding his lungs, he knew he was in trouble.

He had tried everything. Eating seaweed soup, drinking warm tea, even avoiding you for a while. But every time you walked into the Monstro Lounge with that infectious smile, another batch of petals threatened to spill from his lips.

One day, you walked into the VIP room only to find Azul coughing into a napkin, looking suspiciously flustered.

"Azul, are you okay? You sound awful."

"I’m fine," he said, though his voice was hoarse. You noticed the blue petal sticking to the corner of his mouth, and your eyes widened.

"Wait… are you coughing up flowers? Is that… hanahaki?"

Azul stiffened, quickly stuffing the napkin into his pocket. "I… I don’t know what you’re talking about."

You raised an eyebrow. "Azul, I know a petal when I see one. Is there something you want to tell me?"

He looked away, clearly embarrassed. "I… may have developed feelings for someone," he muttered, his face turning a shade that almost matched the hydrangeas.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you couldn’t help but smile. "Really? And who might that be?"

Azul hesitated, his confidence wavering for the first time in a long while. "It’s… you."

Your smile widened as you leaned forward, gently brushing a petal from his cheek. "You could have just told me, you know. I like you too, Azul."

Azul blinked, clearly caught off guard by your confession. "You… do?"

"Of course I do," you said, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "Now, let’s work on getting rid of those flowers before you drown in petals, okay?"

Jamil Viper

White gardenias represent purity, humility, and attachment.

Jamil had always prided himself on his self-control. But when white gardenias started blossoming in his chest, that control was tested like never before. It didn’t help that every time you walked into Scarabia with that bright, infectious energy, another flower seemed to bloom.

Jamil tried to avoid you as much as possible, focusing on his duties as Kalim's right-hand man. But one day, while preparing tea in the kitchen, you walked in unexpectedly, catching him mid-cough as a cluster of white petals floated to the ground.

"Jamil, are you okay?" you asked, moving closer. "You’ve been coughing a lot lately."

"I’m fine," he said quickly, wiping away the evidence. But it was too late—you had already noticed the petals.

"Jamil… are those gardenias?" you asked, eyes widening.

Jamil froze, realizing there was no way to hide it now. "I… yes," he admitted reluctantly.

You tilted your head, confused. "Wait… who do you have a crush on?"

Jamil looked away, his face flushed with embarrassment. "It’s… you."

You blinked, completely caught off guard. "Me?"

He nodded, clearly mortified. "I’ve been trying to keep it under control, but…"

You laughed softly, stepping closer and gently touching his arm. "You could’ve just told me, you know. I like you too, Jamil."

Jamil’s eyes widened, a look of pure relief washing over his face. "You… do?"

"Of course," you said, smiling warmly. "Now, let’s get rid of those flowers, okay?"

Vil Schoenheit

Purple lilacs signify the first emotions of love and pride.

Vil Schoenheit, perfection incarnate, found himself undone by the one thing he couldn't control: love. The moment purple lilacs started blooming in his chest, he knew he was in trouble. But, ever the professional, Vil tried to maintain his composure, even as the flowers threatened to spill from his lips every time you were near.

He spent weeks trying to cover it up, using his beauty products and makeup to hide the occasional petal that escaped. But one day, while rehearsing a scene with you in the Pomefiore dorm, he let out a cough that sent a cascade of purple petals fluttering to the ground.

"Vil?" you asked, concerned. "Are you okay?"

Vil sighed, knowing he couldn’t hide it anymore. "I’ve developed a… condition."

"Condition?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "You mean hanahaki?"

He nodded, his usual confidence faltering. "Yes. And it’s because of you."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Me?"

Vil looked away, his voice softening as his usual poised demeanor faltered. "Yes, it’s because of you. The lilacs—" He gestured at the fallen petals, a touch of frustration and vulnerability in his eyes. "—are a sign of feelings I’ve been suppressing. I thought I could control them, but apparently, even I am not immune to such trivial things as unspoken love."

You blinked, utterly stunned. "Vil, you mean… you like me?"

His gaze met yours, golden and intense, and for once, Vil didn’t hide behind his mask of perfection. "Of course I do. You have this… light about you that pulls me in, even though I know I should stay composed. I’ve tried to ignore it, to keep things professional, but—" He coughed again, more petals spilling out. "Clearly, it didn’t work."

You couldn’t help but smile softly. "Vil, you don’t have to hide how you feel. I like you too."

His eyes widened, the surprise evident on his usually composed face. "You… do?"

You nodded, stepping closer. "You’ve always had this aura of untouchable beauty, but I’ve always admired more than just your looks. You’re passionate, driven, and underneath it all, incredibly kind. How could I not fall for you?"

Vil’s lips quirked into a small, relieved smile, the tension in his shoulders easing. "You certainly have a way with words. Thank you… for not making me feel foolish."

You smiled back and took his hand gently. "There’s nothing foolish about love, Vil. Let’s work on getting rid of these flowers, okay?"

For the first time in what felt like weeks, Vil felt truly at peace. The lilacs could bloom no more, now that his heart was finally unburdened.

Idia Shroud

Black daisies are a symbol of mystery, depth, and the unknown, often associated with secrecy and unspoken feelings.

Idia had always assumed he’d die alone, surrounded by his beloved games and tech, without the messiness of real-life emotions. But life, it seemed, had other plans, and those plans came in the form of black daisies—thick and suffocating, crawling up his throat every time he saw you.

For someone who preferred the solitude of his room, the thought of interacting with you was terrifying enough, but dealing with hanahaki? That was a nightmare. So, Idia did what he did best—he avoided you like the plague.

Unfortunately, his plan backfired one day when you burst into his room unannounced, holding a takeout bag and cheerfully asking if he wanted to eat lunch together. Idia spun around in his chair, trying to hide the fact that his hoodie pocket was stuffed full of crumpled napkins—each one littered with black daisy petals.

"S-Sure! I’d love to!" he stammered, though his voice cracked slightly. You gave him a strange look, noticing the sweat beading on his forehead.

"You okay, Idia? You’ve been acting really weird lately."

Before he could reply, he let out a loud cough, sending a flurry of black daisy petals across his desk. Idia froze, his eyes widening in horror.

"Oh no," he whispered under his breath. "No, no, no, not now…"

You stared at the petals, then at him. "Wait a second… is this… hanahaki?"

Idia turned about fifteen shades of red. "N-N-NO! I mean, y-yes, but…"

"But?" you pressed, stepping closer. "Who gave you hanahaki, Idia?"

He buried his face in his hands, mortified beyond belief. "Y-You! It’s because of you! I know it’s impossible and I’m an idiot for even thinking about it, but I—"

"Whoa, whoa, hold on!" you interrupted, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You like me?"

Idia peeked through his fingers, his hair flaring blue in embarrassment. "Y-Yes…?"

You chuckled softly, finding his awkwardness endearing. "Idia, you don’t have to be so nervous. I like you too."

He blinked, processing your words as if they didn’t compute. "Wait… what? Y-You do?"

You nodded, smiling at him. "Yeah, I think you’re really sweet. And your nerdy side is kind of adorable."

Idia’s face went from pale to bright pink in record time, his hair turning a neon shade of pink. "I-I think I’m gonna die."

You laughed, handing him a napkin. "How about we avoid that, okay?"

Malleus Draconia

Nightshade flowers represent danger, mystery, and passionate, dangerous love but also healing and protection.

Malleus wasn’t particularly bothered by the concept of hanahaki. After all, he was a powerful fae prince, one who had lived for centuries. But when the dark, velvety petals of nightshade began to fill his lungs every time he thought about you, he knew that even he wasn’t immune to the whims of the heart.

At first, he tried to rationalize it. He would stare at the nightshade petals, wondering if his fae biology was reacting to something. But deep down, he knew the truth. He had fallen for you—hard. And while Malleus wasn’t one to shy away from emotions, he hadn’t quite figured out how to express them yet.

One evening, you found him sitting in the courtyard of Diasomnia, looking unusually thoughtful. As you approached, he turned to greet you with a smile, but his voice was interrupted by a soft cough.

"Are you alright, Malleus?" you asked, concerned. "You’ve been coughing a lot lately."

He hesitated, clearly debating whether or not to tell you the truth. Then, with a soft sigh, he opened his hand to reveal a single, dark nightshade petal.

You blinked in surprise. "Wait… is that hanahaki?"

Malleus nodded slowly, his expression serious. "It is."

Your heart skipped a beat. "So… who’s the lucky person?"

He gazed at you, his eyes filled with an unspoken depth of emotion. "It’s you," he said simply.

You stared at him, stunned. "M-Me?"

Malleus nodded, his voice as gentle as the breeze. "I have cared for you for quite some time, but I did not wish to burden you with my feelings."

You felt your cheeks heat up as you stepped closer to him. "Malleus, I… I care about you too."

His eyes lit up with surprise, as if he hadn’t expected your confession. "You do?"

You nodded, smiling warmly. "I do. I didn’t realize you felt the same way."

Malleus smiled, the nightshade petals slowly fading from his chest. "Then perhaps we can face this together."

You took his hand, feeling the warmth of his magic flow through your fingers. "I’d like that."

Masterlist

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

To add onto that Malleus popularity speculation, I think another major reason why that you never mentioned is the simple fact that characters of Malleus' archetype are just more popular in general in the west amongst working age women.

There are plenty of adult novel containing male supernatural love interests. Fae and vampire romance novels are still extremely popular amongst adult readers. A Court of Thorns and Roses is technically an ADULT novel, NOT YA. Even m|m supernatural stories even fall into this category with Stolas/Blitz from Helluva Boss being an extremely popular over here. That pairing is from an adult animated show. Stolas shares a lot of similarities with Malleus.

Hell, even if you step into western contemporary romance novels, the male love interest tends to be more brooding and angsty with flawed leads. Everything from classic literature like Jane Eyre to modern shit like anything Colleen Hoover writes. (Don't get it twisted. I'm NOT saying that Malleus is anything like those leads. Just using those very popular example of brooding bad boy love interests in adult contemporary fiction in the west.)

Meanwhile in East Asia, those sorts of leads tend to be geared towards teenagers. Working age women want a more stable, realistic love interest that would take care of them like Trey.

Westerners seem to prefer more complex, intense romantic relationships, where the stakes feel higher and the emotional payoff is more significant. They will naturally write Trey off as a "big brother" character instead of seeing him as a romantic lead material thanks to being more used to seeing characters like Malleus as the love interest in stories.

I could be way off base, since I'm not Asian and far from being an expert on Japanese culture, but that's my two cents based on my observations. This is also based on broad generalizations. Neither culture is a monolith.

[Referencing this post and (more specifically!) my speculation here!]

Oh, for sure 💀 I made a post a while ago talking about how Malleus (especially from the yumejoshi/self-shipping perspective) reminds me a lot of the new "Shadow Daddy" archetype that has emerged in the romantasy genre. I mean, just look at how many of the Shadow Daddy traits Malleus ticks off:

is a nonhuman being (usually fae)

500 yrs old (or at least several hundred years old or a significant age gap between the Shadow Daddy love interest and typically female main character)

looks young and hot/conventionally attractive despite the age

is OP (usually with shadow/night/darkness related magic)

is royalty or in some kind of position of power

dark hair and/or skin (sometimes both)

“morally grey” and/or has issues (you can fix him)

brooding

looks or is rumored to be intimidating but is actually lonely and misunderstood, with a heart of gold

animalistic in some manner (usually with bat/raven/dragon-like wings)

has a tattoo or some kind of bodily markings (Malleus has the scales under his hair; you could also count the OB facial markings I guess)

Outside of romantasy novels geared towards older teens (18-19) and adults, the west seems to really love brooding bad boys as love interests in a lot of its media. Something else I noticed is that the "good guys" or the "boy next door" types like Trey tend to be "the other man" in heterosexual love triangles, which miiight also explain why he gets looked over in the western fandom. (I discussed some of my own observations, which are similar to the points mentioned here, in the posts linked above.)

I wouldn’texactly phrase it like westerners preferring "more complex, intense romantic relationships [... with higher stakes and more significant emotional payoff]", as that unintentionally implies that there has to be brooding or angst in order for the story or character arc to be "good". I feel a lot of it actually depends on the execution rather than the tropes present. For example, I've seen many "Shadow Daddies" that exist purely for wish fulfillment rather than emotional or story/character complexity (which, to be clear, there's nothing wrong with if this is the kind of thing you enjoy!). Wholesome or "normal" romances also have the capacity to be complex, intense, high-stakes, and emotionally significant too! Again, it all depends on the quality of writing and what one's personal preferences are. You'll find outliers regardless of culture as well--as the asker has stated, no culture is a monolith!

[starrose17]

Lokius 'Passengers' AU

So I really want a Lokius AU to the movie Passengers.

Like, Loki has somehow snuck aboard the ship (named The TVA, of course) in a spare life pod without anyone noticing, but as it wasn’t properly configured to him it opens half way through the 200 year journey. He’s alone on this giant spaceship, no knowledge on how to get the pod working again (though he’s smart and he tries but nope), and with only minimal level pass to entertainment and food that he stole from another passenger before he went into suspended animation. 

At first it’s great, he was running away after all, and out here alone there was no one to hurt him. So he enjoys his time, plays the virtual computer games, breaks into the penthouse suite on the top deck and makes home there, gets into the space suit that’s tethered to the ship and goes for a float out in space where only he exists. Sure the same cereal every day for breakfast gets annoying, but at least he’s got the bar man to talk to, the robot behind the bar named Ob, even if he is a bit mental.

But after 2 years, it’s not fun anymore. He’s got the endless high scores on all the games, he’d rather eat his own hair then that same cereal again, he’s tired of his own voice echoing against the never ending metal hallways, and the space outside is just...cold. Empty.

Alone.

He’s lets himself go, he doesn’t care anymore, doesn’t shower, doesn’t shave, soon his beard is as tangled as his unwashed curly hair, and every day he screams at the life pod that brought him to his own silent hell. He’d tried every possible way to get into the restricted life pod section where all the crew were, but nothing would open those heavily enforced doors.

Ob’s a robot, he doesn’t understand, he doesn’t feel, and after drinking what must be half the contents of that bar Loki finds himself standing in the air lock, without the tethered suit, hand hovering over the button that would open those doors and suck him out into oblivion.

But he scares himself, and he drops the bottle held in his other hand and runs, back through the decks, through the life pod section, and in his haste trips over one of the many bottles surrounding his own pod. He tumbles and ends up splattered on top of another pod. Blinking through his drunken suicidal haze, he looks down at the grey-haired head beneath him.

All it took was that look for all those dark thoughts to disappear.

More under the cut...

He becomes rather obsessed with this passenger, this, ‘Mobius M Mobius’ written on the pod. He looks him up on the ships computer, the man was a divorced ex-jet ski salesman, ready to leave his life behind to start a new adventure out there in the unknown, wanting to write a book about it. 

Loki talks about him endlessly with Ob, who just stares at him smiling animatedly reminding him he told him this yesterday. And the day before that. And the week before that. In the end, it seemed even robots could get exasperated, as Ob finally suggests, 

“Why don’t you wake him up?”

Loki immediately refuses, he couldn’t do that, he couldn’t put someone in his position, alone out here for the rest of his life. But the idea was there now, and it ate away at him. He’d spend hours staring at Mobius in that pod, hands itching towards the controls, towards the “Emergency Revival” selection on the touch screen. He’d walk away, he’d walk back, he’d tell himself no, he’d dream about yes.

Eventually the loneliness starts to get at him again, and without even thinking of any consequences he can’t stand living like this anymore. He needs someone, anyone, please. He shaves off his beard, he showers for the first time in...when did he last shower? He makes himself look presentable and handsome then suddenly he’s pressing the button.

Bleary, but gorgeous blue eyes open, and suddenly Loki is faced with the inevitably of what he’d just done. Lies pour from his mouth, that there was a malfunction with the pods, that it seemed it was just the two of them, that he has no idea what had happened.

But this Mobius was a determined man, and before barely saying hello he was up out of the pod and down yanking out wires from the console. He wasn’t a mechanic but he knew a bit and was going to try and get it working again. Loki had tucked the few wires he’d cut out as he waited for Mobius to fully revive into the back pocket of his trousers. 

After some time, and with the help of Loki being nice and chatty and knowing more about the ship having been awake for longer, Mobius starts to relax, the initial fear and anger of knowing he was going to spend the rest of his life with just this curly haired man for company finally having to be accepted and put to one side.

Loki was so excited he couldn’t put it into words, he dragged Mobius everywhere, showed him the ship, got him playing as Player Two on all the games he’d grown so bored of, games that were now fun with him there. They drank at the bar together, making fun of Ob who didn’t understand he was being mocked and continued to smile autonomously, and talked about each others lives before, Mobius’ jet skis that he missed and Loki...well, Loki chose a set of lies and stuck to them.

Mobius was flabbergasted to find Loki had been eating the same breakfast and the same choice of 3 evening meals for 2 years, and got out his platinum access card that he'd saved up for years before embarking on this trip, and piled their table high with so much food Loki’s eyes practically bulged at the sight of it.

They floated around in space together, laughing, Loki having forgotten what his own laugh sounded like, and very much loving the sound of Mobius’. They’d sit together in the observation deck, side by side, watching through heavy filters as the ship passed by a nearby sun, and Loki would sit closer, one knee touching Mobius’, and Mobius wouldn’t move away.

Loki knew he’d fallen hard for Mobius, probably the moment he saw him really, the man had saved his life in a way Mobius would never know, so when Mobius knocked on the broken door of Loki’s penthouse suite, dressed in a smart dark suit and holding a bottle of champagne, asking Loki to join him for dinner, Loki could do nothing but grin.

It wasn’t long before they both ended up back at the penthouse, and both of their suits were discarded on the floor.

For a long time, everything was perfect. The food was perfect, the entertainment was perfect, the sex was perfect. Loki could not remember any point in his life where he’d been happier than stuck on this space ship now 97 years before landing, with a man so embedded into his heart he wasn’t sure if he could go just one day without being by his side.

Ob would serve them drinks with his ever-present grin, they’d swim naked in the pool with nothing but starlight coming in from the large windows to their space outside, and every night Loki would end up warm and sated and perfectly comfortable, wrapped up in those loving arms without a care in the world.

Loki could have spent the rest of his life without telling the man he truly loved how he really came to be awake on this ship. He’d pushed that knowledge far away deep inside him with all the other unpleasant secrets in his life. But then a meteor storm hits, and one little shitty meteor gets through the shields and knocks into something that starts making everything electrical, which is everything, go haywire. It doesn’t last long, the computer system was smart and had a way of fixing itself, but the disruptions went on for long enough that it caused Ob to start spurting out random conversations he’d had with Loki years ago, including suggesting that Loki wake up Mobius.

The held back fury in Mobius’ eyes as Loki approached him in the bar for their evening drink stops Loki in his tracks, wiping the grin from his face as he held onto the homemade ring in his pocket that he’d made from bits of scrap. He was going to ask tonight.

He'd never get a chance now.

He couldn’t lie now, and when Mobius asked him through suppressed rage if Loki had deliberately awoken him, deliberately stranded him here for the rest of his life, with no chance of getting home or to the colony or having any of his aspirations for his future come to light...Loki was silent for a moment, before the word “Yes” quietly passed his lips.

Mobius doesn’t hit him, he’s not that sort of man, but his rage comes out in full force and he yells, screams, throws a bar stool barely missing Loki’s head. He swears if he sees Loki again he’ll throw him out the airlock, to murder him just like Loki had done to him, before he smashes a glass at Loki’s feet and storms away, leaving Loki alone.

Loki is terrified, not just for the revelation of the truth, but what this would mean for him, for them, to be trapped on a ship not knowing if he’d wake up in the morning dead. One night that very thought almost came true, and Loki was awoken by Mobius straddling him where he lay and his fist punching into the pillow by his head as he yelled at him once more. Mobius wasn’t violent, he couldn’t hit him no matter how much he wanted to, so this was the only way to let out his frustration and pure anger.

Loki let him, awaiting for that fist to make contact, to hit his head and to be beaten to a pulp. When Mobius reached for the knife he had on him, part of him knowing he’d never use it but just so angry, holding it to Loki’s throat...only then did he stop.

Loki still hadn’t said a word.

“Why are you just lying there? Why aren’t you telling me stop?!” he demanded through panting breaths, but Loki just continued to stare up at him, eyes so terribly, terribly sad, and didn’t say a word.

He deserved it. After what he’d done, he deserved to be killed by the love of his life.

Mobius stared at him, and for a moment his own eyes flashed a mirror of Loki’s loneliness, before he let out a frustrated yell and throws the knife to the floor, getting up and disappearing as quickly as he came.

Loki doesn’t see him for a long time afterwards, except for meals, where they’re forced into the same room. Mobius no longer gives him any of his constantly changing and delicious food, and is stuck with the same sloppy cereal, looking utterly dejected. Mobius always takes his food somewhere else, away from him, and Loki could see how much Mobius still hated him, so never said a word.

Eventually Loki figures out how to get on the speaker system for the ship, and knowing Mobius is out there somewhere he starts to tell the truth. The real truth. About how he was the son of the famous war criminal Odin, the reason for half the wars on the ravished earth, but Loki wanted nothing to do with him anymore, so had run, run as far as he could, trying to escape his connection with him and so sneaking on board this ship that would take him billions of miles away to start a new life. That he woke up not through a mechanical fault, but because he wasn’t supposed to be there.   He told him how he’d tried to kill himself, how seeing Mobius saved his life, about how long he’d spent wondering if he could wake him up. He admitted he knew what he did was wrong, but he was so desperate, so desperately desperate, that he wasn’t thinking right. All he could think of was that a choice between eternal loneliness, or Mobius, he picked Mobius.

He knew it was wrong, knew it was selfish, and he was so so sorry, but as he was being honest, he’d do it again. He said he knew Mobius hated him now, and he had every right to, but Loki still loved him, forever would love him, and if there was any chance at all of reconciling this, to please, say something the next time they ran into each other. Please. Please. 

“Eternal loneliness is not a good prospect, believe me...I know.” he sobs.

But the only words Mobius says to him the next time they see each other, are said softly, and dangerously:

“You’re a murderer.”

And all hope is lost for Loki.

Months go by, and strange things keep happening on the ship, flickering lights, the little cleaning robots going haywire, the gravity going in the swimming pool area, nearly drowning Loki as he floated upwards in ball of water he couldn’t get out of.

He wished he had drowned.

Mobius still hadn’t said anything else, but when they did run into each other, Mobius would at least look back at him as they past, not that Loki had noticed as he kept his head bowed away in shame. More and more times Mobius’ eyes would linger on him, and more and more times it was less anger, more...something else, something calm.

Mobius had tried to imagine, after Loki’s speech over the speaker system, what it would have been like to be alone for so long. He couldn’t image it really. He’d spoken to the repaired Ob about it, about exactly the kind of hardship Loki had gone through, and Ob would tell him how tragically terrible Loki had looked for a long time, and how morally conflicted he’d been over waking Mobius up. When he asked Ob if he knew Loki had tried to kill himself, Ob had just shrugged and smiled as always,

“I’m glad he didn’t. Who was I going to make drinks for? I would be very lonely too.”

Something had been tugging inside Mobius for almost a year now, every time he saw Loki, and saw just how dejected he looked.  It was difficult to remain angry with the only other human being on the ship, and despite knowing what Loki had done, despite knowing that Mobius’ life was now permanently confined to these metal walls, he found himself...missing him. He missed their conversations, he missed the flirting, hell he missed that insufferable little sneer he did when he’d regain his high score from Mobius on one of the VR games. He missed the company. He missed his warmth in bed. Oh for goodness sake he missed that talkative obnoxious gorgeous little shit, and despite everything he still felt something for him. He’d loved him once, and it was still there, buried under alot of anger, but it was there.

He walked past Loki the next morning, holding a tray of bacon, eggs, sausages and toast with jam, placing the tray next to Loki’s pointless little cereal bowl and walking away without saying a word.

If he had turned around and seen that glimmer of hope in Loki’s eyes, he probably would have run back to him.

The electronic failures were getting worse, something truly wasn’t right, and it came to it that they were going to have to work together to find out what was wrong. For the first time they held a tentative conversation, and after a long search of the ship found the meteor from over a year ago and gone straight through the fusion engine, and not being repaired the damn thing was close to exploding. The release valve to vent the engine was smashed to bits, and knowing a bit about ships Loki knew there had to be a manual release from the outside.  Without even discussing it Loki puts on a space suit, Mobius asking what the hell he was doing.

“Well I can’t let you risk your life...I’ve done enough to you already.”

He pauses in putting on the helmet, quickly deciding to lean over to steal a kiss from Mobius before putting it on and picking up part of the heat shield off the engine that had broken. Mobius is rooted to the spot staring at him, before Loki heads outside the ship and down into the vent, releases the valve and uses the shield that barely covers his body as protection from the radiation that goes shooting past him. Mobius is yelling into his comm, telling Loki to get out of there, that he won’t survive this, that Loki was the one who woke him up he can’t leave him alone now, “Don’t leave me alone!”

The vent is too strong, too much, and eventually it blasts Loki away from the ship, heading off into space with a cracked visor, oxygen escaping fast. Mobius runs faster than ever before to the airlock, space suit on, Loki still slowly talking in his ear, saying he’s sorry for everything, that he wishes Mobius to be happy, to maybe try writing that book now, so when everyone else awakes they can read about the best passenger this ship will ever have. To know about the best man there ever was.

“SHUT UP LOKI!! I’m coming to get you! You think I’m gonna forgive you if you die I love you stay the fuck alive!!”

It was possibly the first time Loki had ever heard Mobius swear.

But the remaining space suit that Mobius uses is the one with the tether, and as he pushes himself off from the ship, floating quickly towards Loki who’s now quite far away, the tether pulls him short just inches from Loki’s outstretched hand. He can do nothing but watch that small, sad smile, obscured by the oxygen leaking from Loki’s helmet as he floats awa. 

“I love you...” Loki whispers, “and I’m sorry...for everything.”

“…..no.”

With fiercely determined eyes Mobius unhooks himself from the tether and cuts his own oxygen line, the releasing air pushing himself towards Loki, Mobius grabbing him and turning the line behind them to push them back towards the ship. By the time they get back inside and remove their helmets both are gasping for air, collapsing to the ground in a heaving heap. Loki then pushes the rest of the suit off him while Mobius is still on the ground, pounces on him, and kisses him hard. He pulls back quickly though, eyes asking if this is ok, and Mobius just cups the back of his head and brings him down for another kiss.

“We’re alive. And we’re staying that way. I love you.” Mobius grins.

They do the remaining repairs to the shield as best that can, and find themselves standing, hand in hand, in the main communal area that leads off to restaurants and clubs, Ob’s bar, and what would have been the night life of the ship.

“This place needs a little green, don’t you think?” Mobius asks.

In 95 years, the rest of the passengers and the crew would awake to a communal area filled with trees and flowers and small forest animals and birds, once all in suspended animation in the hold in a lot less complicated life pods, now all wild and free. And there, in a makeshift hut amongst the greenery, would lie a pile of books, now covered in dust, the series entitled;

‘For All Time – Always’ - by Mobius and Loki

[angelwiththeblue-box]

thinking about the clothing choices in loki s2

thinking about loki and mobius always dressing up in silly little outfits, just the two of them going on missions and theyre always matching, with loki adding little touches of his own personality. mobius knows how he works and he lets him, they might be working for the tva, but theyre allowed to be their own people.

thinking about sylvie, still in her sick as fuck looking outfit from last season, it's battered and there's knife marks in it, it's old and it's sylvie holding onto who she was. even in her work uniform, she kept her old clothes, the only remnant of who she was

thinking about b-15 still wearing a minutemen uniform, but working exclusively to help the timeline, working with OB to help save it, acting like a leader but not defining herself as one the way ravonna did, she's not in her own office, working secretly with goals that she barely shares with anyone else, b-15 is on the ground, she's working hands on and not hiding information

thinking about ravonna, who's clothes look slightly off in the timeline she's in, who is working for a goal that only sets the tva back, as the episode goes on her clothes get more and more disheveled as she looses her trust in miss minutes

thinking about victor, who looks nothing like he who remains, who has a grey streak in his hair and a stutter and just wants to create something new, who is a scientist at his core, not a leader, not a public speaker, but a scientist

[disillusioneddanny]

Phantom's Moving Castle

Dick was pissed. No, he was more than pissed he was abso-fucking-lutely pissed. Angry enough to curse even! He couldn’t believe that this had happened to him, that he had been hit with a curse. Not only had he been hit with a curse, but the curse itself had turned him into the worst thing it possibly could have. 

It turned him old!

He had woken up feeling his body ache and pop in places he didn’t know they could. And when he had managed to hobble to the bathroom he had nearly shat his pants seeing his reflection in the mirror. This wasn’t good. No, this was a disaster, the worst thing that could have ever happened. He had blindly called Zatanna freaking out more than he had ever freaked out before. 

She had come to his apartment in Bludhaven as soon as she could and found Dick crying in bed over the new wrinkles that covered his face. “You’re being ridiculous,” she had said before she recited some spell over him, only for it to not work, causing Dick to cry even harder than before. She frowned and said it again, this time louder and more forceful only for it to start to turn Dick’s wonderful, lustrous black hair to a soft grey color.

A sob wracked through his body as he hugged the pillow tighter to his chest. 

“Do you know who put the curse on you?” Zatanna asked with a sigh as she tried yet another spell only for it to not work. Thankfully this one didn’t age Dick any more than he already had but it had definitely made him cry even more.

“I busted some kind of occultist group last night, it was just some breaking and entering, I doubt they were going to actually successfully summon something,” Dick said with a sniff, wincing at how his voice even sounded different than it had before. “But one of them said something really weird in a language I didn’t recognize but nothing happened so I thought I was fine. And then I woke up this morning and I look like the crypt keeper!” He sobbed, his body shaking with each sob that wracked through his body. 

Zatanna rolled her eyes. She loved this idiot but she had never met someone so stupid in her life. “Look, I know someone who will help you but he’s a little stubborn,” she said carefully. Dick sat up at that, rubbing the tears out of his eyes and trying to not pay attention to the liver spots that now covered the back of his hands. 

“Really? You know someone who can fix me?” He asked, hiccups coming through every other word or so. 

The magician nodded her head and let out a breath. “They call him Phantom. There’s a bit of an issue with him and he’s a bit eccentric, but if anyone could help you figure out what’s wrong it’s him.”

“What’s his issue?” Dick asked, hurrowing his brow in confusion. 

....

Danny cursed as he saw the stupid eyeballs gaining on him and slammed his hand on the button of his control board, the entire castle shaking slightly as the building disappeared from sight and reappeared in a completely different part of the Infinite Realms. 

This was starting to get ridiculous at this point. He was twenty-four years old, he had been running from the stupid Observants and Clockwork for six years now, how could they not get the hint? He didn’t want that ancient’s damned crown. And obviously, the Infinite Realms were surviving just fine without a king so why did he need to take the title?

They had already ruined his life by forcing him to go on the run, couldn’t they just let him rest? To have some time where he could just exist without them finding him? He let out a huff and stalked to the window to see where he was and groaned when he found himself in Old Gotham. 

Now he was going to be stuck with the Lady for a while. He sucked on his teeth for a moment before falling onto one of his giant, fluffy couches and let out a breath.

“I’ll take Lady Gotham over the Observants any day,” he muttered, staring up at the ceiling. “As long as she doesn’t try to get me to go to the living version and try to save her stupid vigilantes I’ll be fine.”

Besides, the Observants hated Old Gotham, they avoided this entire part of the Infinite Realms like the plague and that meant that Danny would at least get a few weeks of time to just breathe. They would get over themselves eventually and come in and bother him and when they did he’d just leave again. 

The realms were infinite for a reason and if he started running out of places here, he’d start dimension-hopping if he had to. He would rather be on the run for the rest of his life than become the King of the Infinite Realms. 

Sure, it was lonely at times, not many people visited him considering he was constantly on the run. But every so often Sam, Tucker, and Jazz would summon him to check in. Or Dani would track him down. There was something about the fact that she was his clone that made it so that she just knew where he was at all times. It was like she had a honing beacon that would always direct her to Danny.

And yeah, Danny missed his life desperately but he couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t give all of himself to the Infinite Realms and become the king. The very idea made his core burn inside of him. He wasn’t meant for that life. All Danny wanted was to protect the people he loved and live as normal a life as possible. 

Hell, he’d prefer being a hero before being the King. Part of him wondered if this was worth it if running away from the Observants and Clockwork and the crown was really worth it. If he stopped running he’d have a life again, he’d be able to just live in peace and even see his family again. But he wouldn’t be happy. He would be beyond miserable having to be the king, he wouldn’t get to just exist and at least while he was on the run he could just exist. 

He could travel wherever he wanted and just enjoy the world around him. He had been in so many different spots of the Infinite Realms that he had never even known existed and he had learned more than he could have ever expected to learn. It wasn’t the life he wanted, but it was better than the life the Observants wanted for him. 

Although, he did have to admit that even with being on the run and by himself, he was enjoying himself. He hadn’t known peace like this whatsoever growing up. And there was something beautiful about just being here, just existing and being alone and enjoying his peace. It was nice to have this one thing for himself, even if he did have to hop from one place to another and hide away from the observants. 

“Phantom,” a familiar voice said, knocking Danny from his reverie and startling him so badly that he fell off of the couch. He let out a huff and sat up on the ground, scowling at the floating face in front of him. 

“Zatanna, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He asked, scowling at the magician who was invading his space. 

He didn’t mind the magician, hell he had helped her out a few times. But that partnership was tricky, especially since Danny was not particularly fond of her boyfriend, John Constantine. Not only that but she was a member of the Justice League and Danny really didn’t need them involved in his shit. They were pushy and annoying and not at all something Danny was interested in. 

He thanked the Ancients every day that his dimension did not have a superhero team, he would have lost his mind if he got roped in with working with them. But Zatanna’s dimension had too many heroes to count and only a few of them were actually interesting and helpful. 

“ It’s good to see you too. Do you have any idea how long it took me to find you?” She asked with a huff and Danny raised an eyebrow as he stood up from the ground and crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes, I know, I know, that’s the entire point of Phantom’s Moving Castle. I need your help.”

“With?” He asked, making a continue motion with his hand. 

“A friend of mine was hit with a curse, you’re the only one I know that could potentially break it,” she said before stepping through her little portal with someone wrapped in a blanket and a hood pulled over their head, covering their face. “Dick, show him.”

“No,” a whiny voice said sadly. 

“He can’t help you if you don’t tell him what’s wrong,” Zatanna said with a sigh. 

“What makes you think I’ll help him anyway?” Danny asked with a scoff. Zatanna just leveled him with a glare. 

“Because you took an oath Danny Phantom of the Infinite Realms. I know you completed your apprenticeship with Frostbite and the yetis that you would heal anyone in need. He’s in need and you’re going to fix him,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest as she glared Danny down. 

He let out a huff and stomped toward the person hiding their face and ripped the hood off of his face. “Someone got you with an aging curse,” he said, looking him up and down as the man let out a whine.  He looked the man over once more and huffed out a laugh. This was tricky magic, and this poor guy was screwed. “Sorry, but there’s nothing I can do. He’s the only one who can break the curse.”

“Well, are you going to tell us how?” Zatanna asked as the man sniffled beside her. His face was covered in age spots and wrinkles. 

Danny shrugged his shoulders. “I can’t, that would be cheating,” he said with a secretive smile before he waltzed over to his kitchen, leaving the two in his sitting room as he started up the kettle. 

“Danny!” Zatanna shouted, following him into the room and dragging the aged man along with him. 

Danny sighed and looked her over. “Look, this is tricky magic. I can’t tell you what’s wrong with him or how to fix it, all I can do is tell you that you need to look within yourself.”

“Then let him stay here with you while he figures it out. You could use the company and his family will freak out if they see him like this,” Zatanna said with a sigh. 

“I have to stay here?” The man croaked, looking at Zatanna in horror. 

She narrowed her eyes. “Yes, and you’re not going to complain about it. Neither of you will,” she said evenly. “Danny help him however you can to fix it. Dick, don’t be a dick while you’re here. Danny’s a very powerful being and he’s got enough going on without you causing more issues. I’ll be back in a month to check on you.”

Before Danny or Dick could argue, Zatanna disappeared from the castle, leaving the two alone with one another. 

Dick looked around the kitchen and jumped as the kettle wanted off. Danny moved it from the heat and prepared two mugs for tea. “So, how do you know Zatanna?”

Danny glanced over at the old man as he stared at his reflection in a pot and chuckled, he was going to have a hard time getting past this curse. “She summoned me once trying to get help with a ghost problem about seven years ago. We’ve been in ever since then and I help her when she needs it and she gets me things sometimes,” Danny said with a shrug. “Black tea or green tea?”

“Black,” Dick said, groaning as he sat at the small, round, wooden table in the corner of the kitchen. It was like everything was popping as he did. This was going to be miserable. 

“Milk and sugar?” Danny asked. 

“Yeah,” Dick grumbled. “I’m Dick, by the way.”

“I know, I’m Danny,” he said simply as he let the tea float over to Dick. 

“What are you?”

Danny gave him a small, secretive smile. “I’m a phantom.”

Dick let out a huff and glared down at his tea. “Fine, keep your secrets.” He took a sip of his tea and looked at the being. “So, how am I going to break this curse?”

Danny turned to  Dick and sipped at his tea. “Your curse,” he said blandly. “I can’t tell you how to break it but I can tell you to embrace it,” he said and Dick was ready to bang his head against the table. Why the hell was this guy being so utterly cryptic? “Once you finish your tea I’ll show you to your rooms. Come find me when you’re done,” Danny told him before he took off out of the kitchen and disappeared into the castle, leaving Dick alone with his thoughts. 

Embrace his curse? How the hell could he embrace a curse that made him so utterly ugly?

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[wildshona]

So here I am at my normal cup of tea and making breakfast for Chris time before he either disappears into his study or goes out to whatever meetings he has in london or wherever.

Last night Chris told me to dress up as we were having a visitor. And he meant dress up. he even wanted me to dress in lacy undies with stockings. Not a bra obs. So i put on a nice red dress that i wear if we are going out to a special dinner.

I thought we had a night in planned with enchilladas and a movie but i was wrong about that.

It was Toni, God I love that woman. The first time she met me I was beaten and raped and she was so kind to me doing my medical exams and everything. we have been intimate only in so far as she knows all about my insides from my regular check ups.

She was stunning last night. silver grey silk dress, beautiful make up and her thick black hair hanging loose.

Chris had cooked and he is a great cook. then we did watch a film "Rambling Rose" from 1991 which is about a nympho in the Southern States in the 1930s. Great cast, good story, a very woman picture and one i could well relate to. made me wet to be honest.

we had brandies when we were watching it and i was on the sofa with Chris with Toni stretched out on another. i was aching to finger myself.

when the film was over i was told to go away for an hour. so i did and got on to tumblr and did fantasy with one of my followers i had taken my dress off so it wudnt get rumpled. i really loved the fantasy and really really wanted to finger myself but i didnt know what was coming.

then i was called back. so i put my dress back on. it didnt look like Chris and Toni had done anything. i expected to see them naked or at least signs of sex but no. they looked like when i had left.

i stood in the middle of the room and Chris undid my dress so that it slipped to the floor i was just in knickers, suspenders and stockings and heels looking like id stepped out of the 1950s my nipples were hard and aching and i could feel an orgasm on its way even tho all that was happening was me standing there with them looking.

when toni slipped the strap of her dress down and let her right tit free god ohhhh. her nipples are so big and dark and i was trembling and shaking and the orgasm hit me and i was on my knees it was so so powerful the atmosphere the film the situation my tumblr fantasising had got me so so ready i couldnt help it.

Toni and Chris just watched. when i had finished chris helped me to my feet, and whispered in my ear to take my knickers off. i slid them down he stood behind me and put his arm round me and lowered his hand to my naked hairless dripping cunt. it didnt take long. Toni leaned forward teasing her nipple watching me as Chris brought me to orgasm and i dropped to my knnes again.

chris helped me to my feet again, Toni put her tit away stood up and kissed me.

and that was it. i was told to go to bed. i heard Toni leave. Chris came to bed and thank god he fucked me cos i would have gone mad if he hadnt.

when we lay there covered in sweat and smelling of sweat and cum i asked him what that was all about. Toni likes you he said.

that was it, what the fuck.

is there going to be more cos i would do anything for toni absolutely absoliutely anything.

i've got blood tests on wednesday perhaps she will tell me what that was all about then.

[somber-sapphic]

Doctor vs. Lawyer

〘Prompt 9- White Coat Syndrome〙

〘Notes- This doesn't exactly fit the prompt, but I think it's close enough. ALSO. I'm going to throw in a TW for anxiety, I projected a bit in this one. Aaannndd I made Reader a lawyer because it was the most stressful job I could think of.〙

〘Summary- Your wife being a doctor doesn't make you fear them any less.〙

〘Word Count- 700〙

〘Pairing- Carina DeLuca x Sick Reader〙

〚Main Masterlist〛⌶〚Sicktember Masterlist〛

You sat on the edge of the cot in the ER, your knee bouncing rhythmically against the cold tile floor. You didn’t want to be here, in fact, the hospital was the last place you wanted to be. You didn’t even enjoy coming here to bring your wife lunch, let alone when you were actually ill.  

It wasn’t that you disliked Carina’s coworkers, in fact, you got along with them all very well. But that was outside of the hospital. Here, you were something to be poked and prodded at and studied. You were helpless, out of your element. You weren’t in control.

A painful cough ripped through your chest, and you ducked your face into your shirt, doing your absolute best to suppress and quiet the fit. That cough was the reason you were here. You’d been talking to Carina on the phone (she hadn’t been home in days), and the young doctor had ordered you to come in.

“Car, I want to go home. I’ll be fine at home, please.” You whispered, turning pleading eyes on the OB/GYN who was staring at the floor.

“No, bambina, you need to be here. I can only do so much at home. I cannot help if you need antibiotics.” She explained firmly, rubbing her knee with a free hand while texting with the other. A quick glance over her shoulder showed you that she was texting Amelia, presumably in relation to your nonexistent treatment.

“I want to go home.” You said again, coughing into your shoulder. The cold you had woken up with a week ago hadn’t gone away, instead it had gotten 10x worse. Carina had been doing her best to monitor your symptoms but, in the end, she couldn’t legally treat you.

“I know. If you had done a better job at taking care of yourself maybe, we wouldn’t be here.” The brunette snapped, glaring at you. She loved you, she did, but she had also been working nonstop for weeks, barely leaving the hospital. She hadn’t been home to sleep or have a proper meal for eight days. The last place either one of you wanted to be was Grey Sloan.

“I-I’m sorry.” You whispered, tears filling your eyes. More than you hated being here, you hated making the woman you loved angry. You knew that you should’ve taken better care of yourself, but you’d gotten distracted. It was hard being a lawyer, you often worked just as many hours as Carina.

The physician sighed and ran her fingers through her silky hair, tossing the long locks over one shoulder. She turned to face you and smiled a little, shaking her head.

“No, I’m sorry. It is not your fault that you got sick, I apologize for biting.” Now it was your turn to smile. Her little slip ups in English were always adorable.

“Snapping babe, not biting.” You corrected, putting your head on her shoulder. The mix of exhaustion from your illness and the nonstop bouncing of your leg was getting to you. Another wet cough tore through your body, followed by a sound you didn’t know that you could make. Now you felt anxious, sick, and pathetic.

“Oh, amore. I know you’re nervous, but I promise it will all be okay. We will make sure it’s someone you feel comfortable with, yeah? No one gets to touch you unless you’re okay with it. And as soon as it’s done, we will get you back home and into a warm bath, then bed.” She said, placing a featherlight kiss to your sweaty hairline.

You couldn’t fathom why on Earth she’d want to be kissing you right now, but there was no way that you’d be complaining. You leaned into her side, resting your head in the crook of her neck.

If your nose hadn’t been so stuffy you probably could’ve smelled her calming vanilla scent, the perfume always a comfort. You sprayed it all over the sweatshirt that was saved specifically for when she was gone.

“There she is, see, just Amelia. We like Amelia, no?” Carina said with a smile, running her thumb across your cheekbone. You nodded, still apprehensive. The neurosurgeon was great, you loved her as a friend, but still. Doctors.

“It will be fast my love. I promise.” Your girlfriend soothed, kissing your earlobe. It was a strange place for a kiss, but you weren’t about to object to a little extra comfort. With a final deep breath -and subsequent coughing fit- you steeled yourself, ready for whatever Amelia would throw at you. As long as Carina was there, you could do anything.

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[thefrontofmymind]

Proof Positive 4

a/n: i know, i know. its been a little while. i've been a bit distracted but i'm getting back into it all

series masterlist

It felt like your life had lurched to a stop when Ross went away for tour. On one side of the coin, all your work you’d been doing for months leading up to this tour had finally been set in motion and now you were supposed to just move on to the next project, and then on the other side of it, you were without the father of your baby. A baby that had been making it so that you could hardly swallow anything other than water without feeling a constant wave of nausea, even then, that was difficult to stomach.

It was a hard goodbye. You two had spent every day together for the past six weeks, you didn’t realise how much you’d preemptively miss him. You had to say goodbye at his flat, to keep with the secret between you both–it was still so new, you couldn’t quite wrap your heads around what was really happening yet, so you couldn’t just tell everyone about you three yet.

Once he’d left you in his flat, you just cried. You probably cried just as much as when you found out you were pregnant. Though that was for fear, this was just pure desolation. You texted each other constantly but with the time difference, his constant travel, and you now having some serious fatigue that resulted in many naps, it was hard to keep consistent.

You had to go to your ultrasound alone. It wasn’t even until you were sitting in the waiting room that you got the fear that something could be terribly wrong and you would be alone to deal with it. Yes, you were pregnant, but there could be every chance in the world that something could be wrong with the baby and you wouldn’t be able to carry it. Or that it was all just a false alarm.

In a trick of fate, there was some emergency and your doctor was far behind schedule so you had all the time in the world to dwell on your anxiety. You watched the other people in the waiting room with you; a woman around your age, quite a bit further along than you, with the biggest rock you’d ever seen on her left hand, a woman holding hands with another much older than her, her hair may have been greying out but their smiles were identical. Looking around you’d never felt so alone. You’d tried to busy yourself by scrolling through your phone but nothing could distract you from the hat trick of your melancholy, your nausea, and the fluorescent lights giving you a migraine.

You’d never felt such relief as when a nurse fetched you from the waiting room and led you down the hall to the ultrasound room. You met the sonographer, and she explained what she was looking for, confirmed that you were around six weeks along, and it was time.

You tried to keep your eyes off the black screen, splattered with white splotches, you didn’t want to look, you didn’t want to jinx it at all. 

Until a pounding filled the room, and your heart just melted.

“There we are!” The sonographer said excitedly. “Baby was hiding from me for a bit there!”

Now you couldn’t take your eyes off the screen. Watching as measurements were taken of the little dot that was unmistakable on the screen.

“We’re looking good…” She said again, writing down a few notes on the pad next to her. “Can you see alright?”

You nodded. “Do you mind if I record a bit of it? The heartbeat?”

“By all means,” she smiled. “And I’ll make sure you get some printouts.”

“Thank you. The dad’s in South America for work and he was gutted to miss this…”

“There’ll be plenty more things he can join you for,” she answered.

You recorded a video as the sound echoed throughout the room. It was almost hypnotising, the beat over and over again. Each time you thought you’d gotten a handle on it, you could finally wrap your head around it all, you were surprised each time it just got more and more real. And you still had eight months left of this.

“Well that’s it for us today, I’ll send this all over to your OB, and I’ll get you to book in for another scan in about two…three weeks time so we can keep an eye on bub.” She gave you a tissue to wipe the gel off your abdomen. “And I’ve sent the photos to the printer in reception so just ask them for the photos.”

Walking out of the blue-tinted building, you were immediately on your phone. 

would you look at who has the best beating heart?? [video attachment]

You were only four hours ahead of him, it was mid-morning for him, he’d see it soon enough. And soon enough, he did. Merely a minute after it was sent, your phone began ringing, you answered it without even looking at the ID.

“Holy shit!” Ross laughed, which you returned. “I…don’t know what to say!”

“Same!” You giggled. “We’re having a baby!”

The giddiness between the both of you was palpable. You both giggled through your conversation–you told him about the appointment, all the things the sonographer told you, and he told you how the tour was going, every detail of every show so far.

You heard someone talking to Ross, before he said to you, “we have soundcheck, I’ll call you later though?”

“I have a meeting with Atlantic Records people at 4 so in like two hours, I’ll text you when it’s over.”

“Alright…love you.”

“Love you too.”

It was only as you put your phone back in your bag after hanging up that you realised what you both said to each other. You didn’t even think about it, it fell so naturally out of your mouth. There was no fear, no worry, just a warmth spread through your chest–combatting the gust of early April wind that was blowing against you.

You wondered what Ross was thinking, whether it was something he planned to say or if it was as much of an instinct as it was to you. You hoped he didn’t worry if you would say it back, because obviously you would’ve–and you did. You pictured him as giddy as you, trying to focus on his soundcheck and not let the rest of the band suspect anything.

You couldn’t think about it for too long, making your way to your office, you had to turn that whole part of your brain off. It was work time.

You were always grateful for the respect that you had at work. Though, you supposed, it came with the commitment you’d put in, being one of the first workers for Dirty Hit, and staying with them for close to a decade now, it was very well earnt.

You got through your day blocking out the excitement, the giddiness, the nausea. Only finally taking a breath in the refuge of your home. You checked the time, four hours back is…three in the afternoon. You pressed call on the contact of the man you loved.

“Hello?” You heard chatter through the other side of the phone when he answered, laughs and yells–nothing unexpected.

“It’s me,” you answered.

“Hold on,” he said without another word. You heard the noise get quieter. “How are you?”

You let out a huff. “I love you!” You said with a laugh.

You heard him chuckle. “I love you too!”

You didn’t think you’d ever get over the feeling. The exhilaration you were feeling every time you two spoke now. Even just the thought of him could make you blush now.

“I wanted to say it properly,” you said. “Was thinking about it all day.”

“Were you? Daydreaming about me while you’re supposed to be working…” He teased. “Remember you’re working for me!”

“Sure, if that’s the way you think it works…” you quipped, which he laughed at.

“Either way I. Love. You.” He emphasised each word.

Then there was another voice, muffled but still just a little audible if you focussed. “Who you love, huh?” Unmistakably Matty.

“None of your fucking business, mate,” Ross answered.

“Fine! Fine if you don’t want to tell us…” You heard Matty say. “But we’ll all find out eventually…”

“Oh I’m sure,” Ross said. You heard whatever door Matty entered through shut again before Ross turned his attention back to you. “Sorry about that.”

“You’re acting like I haven’t known Matty as long as I’ve known you. I know what I’m in for here!”

“Yeah.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “We need to tell them eventually though.”

“We still have time.”

It went without saying. We still have time to actually fathom what’s happening here.

“I know,” he said. “Hate to go but…I have to.”

“Alright, knock ‘em dead,” you answered. “Love you.”

You could practically hear his smile through the phone. “Love you too”

[she-karev]

Babysitting Luna (Andrew DeLuca x Alex Karev’s Sister)

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: Three of Five

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy/Station 19

Ship: Andrew DeLuca x Amber Karev (Alex Karev’s Sister)

Canon Episode: Season 18 Episode 10/Season 5 Episode 10

AN: I know you guys love the pregnancy storyline so I decided to explore it more. I want to show when Amber and Andrew decided to get pregnant and why.

Summary: Amber and Andrew deal with the aftermath of almost losing Luna. Amber notices Luna isn’t crying so she takes her to the station so Carina can check her.

Words: 2487

January 12th, 2022

“You can say it.” Andrew tells Bailey while they are doing a kidney transplant. During that time, he explained what happened yesterday to Bailey looking for advice or more likely a reprimand, “I’m a horrible uncle.”

Bailey looks at DeLuca in sympathy, “You’re really not. I’ve treated bad parents, bad guardians and bad uncles and you are not a bad uncle. And you said you locked the door on your way back.”

“Yeah, but what if I didn’t?” Andrew asks still beating himself up, “She’s walking and using doorknobs if she got out, she could have wandered into the streets and a car would have hit her.”

“But it didn’t.” Bailey states, “She’s safe and happy and that’s what matters. You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, we all make mistakes, even guardians like you.”

“God I am terrified I am gonna fail her or traumatize her. Now I know why Amber was so scared before she came into our house.”

“I was the same way when I had Tuck. My nerves were shot the first year I brought him home. When he was 5, I accidentally slammed Tuck’s fingers in the car door. I could still hear his scream and feel like the most awful parent in the world but my rational side catches up and I know it was an accident.” Andrew feels a little better after that confession, “You don’t have to be perfect to be a parent. You just have to love your kids enough to get through the scary moments and do better next time. If you feel this scared and unsure of your abilities to have her for the rest of the week, me and Ben can take her home with us.”

Bailey clears her throat obviously sad, “The Miller’s supposedly forgot that it was mine and Ben’s week with baby Pru and changed the date to next week. So, we have a house full of toys and diapers that are most likely gonna go to waste. If you want, we can watch her for the rest of the week. No judgement whatsoever.”

Andrew sighs and takes a moment before shaking his head, “No she’s already settled in we can do this.”

Bailey nods proud of him, “Yes you can.”

Later at Station 19

Amber rolls the stroller inside the barn with Jack Gibson guiding her. She knows Carina is doing inventory for the clinic today which makes her the perfect person to go to about Luna who is sleeping peacefully inside the stroller. She sees Carina helping Warren by a table full of pullout chairs.

“Carina.” The Italian OB is surprised to see Amber here and Jack explains.

“Your sister-in-law asked or well demanded really that she sees you. I don’t know why though.”

Carina approaches Amber and Luna, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Luna wandered off in our house yesterday I couldn’t find her for a minute, and she hasn’t cried ever since.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Warren asks.

“She didn’t cry when I ended bathtime last night, she always cries and pulls my hair but not this time. I think something’s wrong; I don’t know if she hit her head or ate something that’s making her like this.”

Carina nods, “Okay well you can take her to a pediatrician in Grey Sloan.”

Amber shakes her head, “No, no, no if I take her to peds or OB they’ll call Alex and Jo and I have to tell them what happened, and they will never trust me again. Please you are my only hope right now.”

Warren shakes his head dismissively, “Look we gotta do inventory just suck it up and-”

Amber’s tone shifts from worried to scary, “One of you doctors drop what you’re doing in the next five seconds, or I will end you.” The three of them look shocked, “One, two…”

Carina steps forward and takes the stroller from Amber who follows her toward the beanery leaving the boys behind. When they reach the empty beanery Carina pulls out the medical bag from under the sink and approaches Amber who takes Luna out of her stroller so she can sit in her lap while Carina examines her.

“Tell me more about what the problem is.”

Amber bounces Luna in her lap lightly, “She’s usually a lot more alert than this. I sat up with her all night, making sure she was still breathing. I felt around her skull but there were no bumps but you’re the baby expert so…”

Carina does a neuro exam on Luna who passes it, “Good job Luna you are so smart.” Carina feels around her head, “There are no bumps, has she been feeling fatigue or vomiting in the last 12 hours?”

“No.”

“Okay we’ve ruled out a brain injury and stomach troubles she could just be relaxing. Unlike her Auntie Amber.”

Amber sighs and looks down at her niece in worry, “It’s just…I couldn’t find her. I went to get her a water and I turned my back for like ten seconds and she was gone when I turned around. Alex and Jo left her with me because I thought I could do this; God why did I think I could do this?”

“Hey, hey do not do this to yourself, don’t make things harder than they seem for you.” Amber sniffles holding Luna close, “It’s not uncommon. In the eyes they seem slow, but babies are like ninjas when they start to walk. They can slip away without making a sound and they are fast on their feet. And the good news is that Luna is very smart, she knows not to wander off outside a place where’s she’s most safe. She knows you and Andrea are watching her and making sure she’s safe.”

Amber sighs at that and Carina makes a suspicion, “Is this about more than Luna wandering off?”

Amber inhales and confesses to her sister-in-law, “Andrew want’s kids, I know he wants kids and a part of me does too, but I can barely keep my niece in place how do I know I won’t do that to our baby too?”

“I know the fear you’re experiencing.” Carina says with compassion, “My mind goes into a dark path, and I sometimes think I’m gonna do to my baby what my papa did to me. I worry that I’ll make them feel like they have to grow up too fast so they can survive me as a parent. I worry that I am going to repeat the cycle of chaos my father started. The same way I know you feel about your parents and whether or not you will repeat their mistakes.” Amber nods confirming Carina is right in this regard, “But if you and I are determined to give our kids the love and stability we never had then there is no doubt we’ll end our family cycle of violence and be the best parents we can be.”

Amber looks at Carina grateful, “Your good at this.”

“I know.” Carina says smugly causing Amber to laugh with Luna still in her lap, “Are you headed back home?”

“Um actually can me and Luna hang out with you and the boys for the rest of the day? Andrew is working and this place is a lot more interesting than my house. Plus, this is the last place that would catch on fire.”

Carina chuckles, “Okay you can come, as long as you help us with inventory.” She leans down to Luna’s face with a smile, “And that goes for you too Dr. Karev.” Amber chuckles and stands up. She puts Luna back in the stroller and follows Carina back into the barn where Ben and Jack are still by the table doing inventory.

“Is it safe?” Ben asks.

Amber grins as she parks Luna next to her by the table, “Yeah she’s fine, I’m gonna help though if that’s okay.”

Jack shrugs, “Yeah sure no problem the more help the better.” Amber helps with the chairs when Jack decides to ask her a question pertaining to the topic of employing doctors at the clinic, “Hey Amber you’re a doctor right?”

Amber raises an eyebrow at that, “Yes? Otherwise, I went to three years of college and four years of medical school for nothing.”

“And you…well you were…” Jack struggles to find the right words to describe Amber who motions him to continue, “You have a different background compared to most doctors right?”

“You mean I was dirt poor and had a family of nightmares?” Amber asks bluntly, causing Carina to grin at Jack’s wince as he tries to mend his words.

“Okay I didn’t mean it like that it’s just that I think the clinic shouldn’t have so many doctors because people from low-income neighborhoods and bad situations they’re afraid of doctors. I mean you and I grew up in the system so we saw firsthand how it can screw over people like us and that includes rich people in white coats.”

Carina rolls her eyes, “Porca miseria do not drag the poor girl into this, she’s just gonna say you’re stupid.”

“No actually he’s right.” Amber says surprising Warren and Carina who look at her more confused than offended, “Carina you know I love you, but you come from a family of doctors you didn’t have to worry about paying a thousand-dollar medical bill because your parents could afford insurance. I grew up relying on my mom’s disability after she got fired until my brothers and I each got jobs when we reached high school. You and Warren don’t understand the viewpoint me and Gibson developed after years of hardship and bouncing around foster homes.”

Ben shrugs, “Okay so tell us.”

Amber starts, “Okay, my oldest brother had to hotwire a car to get me to a hospital when I was two because the ambulance ride would have bankrupted us. Alex and Aaron bandaged my scrapes and bruises until I was 8 and I had a skateboarding accident that gave me 12 stiches on my head. The doc who did it just gave us the bill and walked away. My brother couldn’t pay it until he started his intern year. I’m sorry guys but the white coats are a symbol for death or debt in the communities Gibson and I grew up in.”

Jack grins at his point being proven, “I like her.”

Carina groans at that, “I understand what you’re saying but how do we run a medical clinic without medical experts?”

“Oh, you can’t.” Amber states as she resupplies the medical bag, “I mean the system is broken but a clinic needs doctors and nurses who know sutures and how to run labs. Sorry Jack but your naive to think we can find people who know half the stuff me and Carina know without acquiring an MD.”

“Yeah, she’s got a point.” Ben says.

Gibson thinks for a minute before having an idea that he springs to the doctors, “I could learn to do this, suture. I mean-I mean, if it came to it, right?”

“Well, it won't unless you're planning to become a doctor.” Carina points out.

“Okay, but fine. But, like, think about it. I mean, I-The first time I did CPR, I was 10 years old. Yeah, my foster sister almost drowned in the community pool, and I saw somebody do it on TV and I-I figured it out. So I could probably learn some of what you do.”

Amber grins at Gibson’s attempt, “It’s not like sewing your niece’s teddy bear after the head tears off.” She grins down at Luna who is still in the stroller playing with her teething toy, “It requires focus and steady hands, which are two things you’re gonna learn once you get into Harvard med. Or state if you don’t want to become a stuffy know it all.”

“Andrea went to Harvard.” Carina reminds Amber.

“You just rested my own case.” Amber jokes with a grin.

“I get it but what you probably can't teach is waking up every morning with the goal being to survive. And I think that's…yeah, that's me. That's who I am. That's what this is, right? This clinic is a place for people to go to survive. And they shouldn't have to sign 10 forms with fine print and stare down a bunch of white coats. And it should be simple and, like, clear-cut and not intimidating. And that…that's what the people need to see, right?”

Amber nods seeing Jack’s point as Carina responds, “Okay. But we still need nurses and doctors at our clinic, so who's gonna staff it?”

Jack proposes another idea, “50/50. Compromise. Yeah. Half firefighters, half doctors. And no white coats and no hiding behind the computers and less forms, please. Just less forms.”

The three doctors stand together in front of Jack with Carina speaking for them, “And who's gonna teach you how to do wound care and read urine dipsticks?”

Jack looks stumped by that, “Mm-hmm, mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. Um…”

Carina smiles at Jack’s lack of words, “Half and half.”

“I don't know what either of those are. I don't know which one of you specializes in that.” Amber chuckles before strolling Luna away to get the supplies for the clinic together.

That Night

Amber knocks on the door of the station desperate for either Carina or Warren to answer. She left the station an hour ago after helping with the inventory. But then Luna hit the 24-hour mark since she last cried making Amber worried Carina missed something. She knocks on the glass door frantically until Warren answers it with an obvious annoyed face.

Ben opens the door and Amber rushes inside the Luna in the stroller sleeping, “DeLuca who used to be Karev, it’s late shouldn’t you be home reading the little girl a bedtime story so she can go to sleep like you and me are supposed to?”

“Look Carina missed something or something has developed because it’s been 24 hours and Luna still hasn’t cried yet.” Amber says in a panic, “Something is wrong.”

Ben groans in frustration due to his own problems with the custody battle, “Do you want to know why your niece isn’t crying so badly?”

“Yes!”

“It’s because she loves you.” Ben states the obvious stopping Amber short, “You’re a good aunt and great caretaker. She knows she can wander off because you’re there to watch her. She’s so happy she doesn’t feel like crying. Do you want to see her cry?” Ben leans down and lightly pinches Luna’s hand causing her to get fussy and start to cry to Amber’s shock, “There, now she’s crying so please go home.”

Ben walks away from Amber who is now pissed at having a crying baby to deal with because of Warren, “Okay this is gonna get you the creepy uncle status Ben Warren!”

Next Part Here

[jazlynriddle]

Welcome to your life - Pt 3:

It's My Own Design Ch 7:

Summary:

Ominis fought to control his expression, to keep his hands from trembling. Five years. Five years since he'd seen his parents, and this. This was the reason they'd given him the honour of their time? This was the reason they'd sought him out at Hogwarts?

The bitterness welling up within him was thick enough to gag on.

New year, new allies, new responsibilities, new avenues of revenue, and new aspects of their own Ancient Magic to explore. As the Keeper and their partners enter their last year at Hogwarts, it remains to be seen if the new school year will bring with it new problems or adversaries, but they are confident in the strength of their relationship with Sebastian and Ominis. The three of them would endure, no matter what befell them.

And if they were wrong?

What a joke, they would suffer no alternative.

Warnings: Sebastian x MC x Ominis! Drug Addiction! Spoilers! Slow-burn corruption! Dark content! Fucked up 1800s orphanages! MC has no love for Anne or Solomon! Dubious happy ending (it's happy for MC, Seb and Ominis at least).

You can also read on AO3! (chapter specific warnings below)

Notes:

Warnings: Mentions and very brief flash of a depiction of rape, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Torture, human experimentation.

Oh gawd, how could 4 weeks have passed and I literally only finished editing this chapter a handful of hours ago!? Also, fucking Word Document’s Read Aloud function decided to be a bitch and get some weird laggy shit inbetween paragraphs which made editing so slow and frustrating-

Maaaan, I was so swamped these four weeks, I feel like a goddamn psychic, because if I hadn't announced a delay, I most certainly would have after a week. Like, everything that could happen happened all at the same time and then everything else that I wouldn't have expected happened one after the other like goddamn dominoes.

Why am I so tired-

At least I miraculously managed to finish the artwork I planned for this chapter within like 5hrs, absolute insanity there, I must have had a Van Gogh-esque moment of delirium and actually managed to make an artwork without any re-drawing and without getting a hand cramp. Anyway, hope you guys like the art and hopefully it'll make it easier to picture the different energy types the Keeper's been playing with! =D

You can also view the artwork in HD for free on my Patreon page!

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Remember that time, Oberon? When we snuck into my dad's office and stole his firewhiskey and replaced it with tea? That was-

Drip.

-one hell of a heist wasn't it?

Drip.

Drip.

Remember the time you accidentally kissed my girlfriend? Forgave you for that, didn't I, Oberon?

Drip.

Stood up for you against your dad when he thought you broke that pot on his shelf. He was all like “Oberon Selwyn, how dare you break my grandfather's urn!”.

Drip.

Yet, you think you have the right to feel betrayed?

Drip.

Drip.

You never volunteered to take my place.

Drip.

You were just so relieved it wasn't you.

Drip.

Drip.

Oberon...

Drip.

I was so scared... I was in so much pain...

Drip.

Drip.

Obe-

Drip.

-ron...

Tap.

Drip.

Tap.

Drip.

Creeaaaak.

“A very good morning to you, Selwyn.”

Drip.

“How was your sleep last night?”

Drip.

Oh, look who's here...

Drip.

I think, it's your turn to feel-

Drip.

- fear.

Drip.

“Feeling well rested?”

Drip.

Drip.

“No greeting for us? Not even a thank you? And here we were so-”

Drip.

“-nice, letting you have some quality-”

Drip.

“-time with your ex-best mate.”

Drip.

Drip.

The only response the Keeper received from the dazed boy, bound as he was to a chair, was frantic breathing, as though he couldn’t even hear them. His half-lidded eyes glassy behind his brown matted hair, his face ashen and grey. They crouched before him, obstructing Selwyn's view of Macnair, who was strapped loosely to another chair just across from him, the black-haired boy's eyes empty and soulless.

Observing him, they noted that his hands spasmed every time the agricultural tool, that they'd borrowed from Ominis, and which Sebastian had then modified, released a single droplet of cold water to land on the centre of Selwyn's forehead. His eyes would jump erratically upon contact, and his whole body would flinch, almost as though that impact of a single bead of water could be likened to a blow to the head.

In contrast, the pauses between each droplet made his pupils dilate, his body near trembling, as though the next drop was the most terrifying thing in existence. Breathless anticipation for it driving him mad.

Which was the point, of course.

“What do you think?” The Keeper asked.

“Well, I'd say he looks about right.” Sebastian shrugged. “Nothing for it but to take a look I'd imagine.”

“True. I'll take a quick peek to confirm first then.” They nodded absently as they drew their wand. “Legilimens.”

Entering Selwyn's mind felt like stepping into a thick sludge of creeping, crawling fear, and the Keeper recoiled as they were deluged with a suffocating blanket of anxiety. Well, at least his torture seemed to have stripped him of any mental defences he might have, much like emotional pain did.

As the Keeper struggled to get a hold of themselves, a droplet of water hit his forehead with all the force of a bludgeon to the head.

Aaand nope. Without another thought, they promptly did an about face and exited his mind.

“Hoo boy, now that is disgusting, ugh. Absolutely awful.” The Keeper shuddered, trying to shake off the feeling. “Well, I'd say that was incredibly effective, how did you even come up with this one?”

Sebastian gave an awkward laugh, flashing a sheepish grin as he scratched the back of his head. “I'd love to take credit, but I actually got the idea from a short story in an American magazine.”

“You read magazines?” The Keeper raised an eyebrow.

“Hey, my brain would be mush if I only read tomes, I do some recreational reading from time to time.” Sebastian straightened defensively.

“Would it kill you to pick up a newspaper instead?” The Keeper sighed.

“Bleh, you get more out of magazines than the papers if you want anything new and interesting. Pure gossip rag, the Daily Prophet.” Sebastian shook his head. “Anyway, The Compromiser, it was called, the short story that is. Never thought its description of Chinese Water Torture was something that'd end up useful, but here we are.”

“Remind me never to cross the Chinese.” The Keeper chuckled dryly.

“Doubt it's actually Chinese, the story's in English and didn't seem like it was translated, imagine the author might've just named it like that to make it seem more interesting.” Sebastian rolled his eyes.

“That so? Well, either way, it looks like it worked.” The Keeper grinned. “Now let's see if I can extract anything from this.”

The Keeper closed their eyes and began scanning Selwyn's aura. As they did so, they quickly realised that every time the water hit him, pain would radiate across his aura, making it difficult to detect anything else. It was curious that such a small thing could cause pain, but then again, the steady drip of water upon stone could eventually erode even rock, perhaps it wasn't quite so strange.

“Seb, could you put a pause on it?” The Keeper leaned over to whisper into their partner's ear.

“Sure.” With a quick swish of his wand, the contraption ceased its uneven release of water and the Keeper returned to their examination.

As time stretched out and the expected droplet never made its descent upon Selwyn's skin, his fear and anticipation only mounted, and as it did so, the Keeper focused. Raising their wand and attempting to detect the strand of emotion, one they did not know the texture of, yet must certainly be present for his mind was so deeply steeped in it.

Somehow, however, they weren't finding shit. The Keeper fought the urge to punch the sobbing and trembling boy, because it wouldn't help if they added pain into the mix again.

The Keeper took a deep breath, maybe they were coming at this from the wrong angle. Pain signals to the body that something needs resources and attention to heal, fear on the other hand... it wasn't fun, but they thought back to what they'd felt in his mind. Tightness in the chest, difficulty breathing, numbness in the fingers...

Fear... perhaps it was less a signal and more a... state of being? How would they get that out then? Where would they get it out from? The Keeper frowned and began scrutinising his aura, perhaps rather than something moving... they focused their ancient magic on the body of the aura itself.

Maybe instead of scraping pain as it rippled off the surface of the aura, they'd need to literally dig deep. After all, fear comes from within.

So, they did. The Keeper forcefully burrowed their ancient magic into his aura, piercing the surface tension, slowly and painstakingly reaching the tendrils of their magic deeper into his soul. It took a few moments, before they noticed that the tips of their fingers, wrapped around their wand, were getting... cold.

There was a barely noticeable chill creeping up along the wood ever so slowly, its frost setting in so gradually, that it'd escaped their attention.

“What the-” The Keeper hissed, flinching when their magic touched something distinctly slimy, and cold as ice.

The tendrils of their ancient magic recoiled naturally from the uncomfortable sensation, only for whatever they'd touched to follow them, its chill clinging to their magic as the Keeper frantically withdrew from Selwyn's aura. Their eyes opened as they extracted their magic, watching with disgust as their wand came away with a long black string of thick, slimy, and sticky looking... goop, clinging to it.

“Ugh, is that his fear?” Sebastian's voice sounded equally disgusted as he held out a jar under the strand, where the pooling gunk was hanging low.

“I think so.” The Keeper grimaced, trying to shake the goop from their wand and into the jar. “At least it didn't cost much, didn't need to meld my magic to it or anything, it just- clung to me on my way out.”

“Well, fear is contagious and rather hard to shake off.” Sebastian mused, raising the jar to look at the sticky mess clinging to its glass walls.

“I suppose so... gave me chills when I touched it.” The Keeper grimaced. “I think this is the first time I've not wanted to taste a new type of magic.”

Sebastian gave a sympathetic laugh. “Yeah, no kidding, this stuff looks pretty nasty. Reminds me of ink cap mushrooms.”

“Still, it behoves us to test it regardless, it could prove too useful for mere discomfort to dissuade its use.” The Keeper sighed, folding their arms. “After all, we've seen in testing how much more powerful and efficient even a fraction of the energy created by the Cruciatus curse is. Boosting both magic and physical strength to the same level as a full hit with only half a dose. Even if it costs too much to harvest it...”

They trailed off, their expression becoming distant for a few moments, before their eyes widened.

“Hang on, if it enhances both... I just had an idea.” Lowering their arms, the Keeper immediately made for the cell door. “Let's go to the lab.”

Sebastian blinked in some confusion, as they rushed out of the cell.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” The Keeper paused mid-step to call back to him. “You can start up the drip again.”

Sebastian chuckled, flicking his wand at the dropper tool, amused when its first drop actually got a scream from Selwyn. Exiting the cell and closing the door behind him, he dutifully followed his partner at a jog, quickly catching up to the Keeper, who was already halfway up the stairs.

“So, you know how I tested the Cruciatus pain energy a few days ago.” The Keeper began speaking the moment he caught up to them.

“Uhuh, after spending an hour convincing Ominis to agree to the test.” Sebastian flashed a wry grin. “I hope you've got something good planned for the Fear, because I think he's just about ready to explode again.”

They grimaced, shaking their head at the reminder. “Well, I'm sure I'll think of something, but I can worry about that later.”

He shot them an incredulous look, they'd really gone ahead with the experiment even before preparing an argument for Ominis? Exactly how improvised were those arguments?

“If you recall, at the time, I theorised that it was because of the intense mix of emotional and physical pain, caused by the Cruciatus curse, that raised its pressure high enough to rip a hole in Macnair’s aura and likely why it provided such a powerful boost when consumed.” The Keeper explained, sounding more like they were thinking aloud rather than speaking for his benefit.

Pushing open the door to the potions lab, the Keeper strode across the room to the second potions station they'd added for themselves and waved their wand to begin setting up the cauldron. They then plucked two jars from the table's shelf as well, one labelled E-Pain, for emotional pain, and the other P-Pain for physical. He could see where this was going.

“I think, if we mix emotional and physical pain energies, we might be able to create more of that.” The Keeper gazed at the jar of red and black lava still remaining on the shelf, labelled C-Pain, their eyes gleaming with greed. “Cruciatus Pain energy.”

“Without the cost of a test subject.” Sebastian nodded, it made sense.

“I'll just use this cauldron...” The Keeper murmured to themselves, opening the jar of P-Pain energy, and dumping its thick and bubbly liquid-like contents into the pot. They then opened the jar of E-Pain energy, catching a wisp of bubbly smoke with their wand and lowering it into the cauldron as well.

They hadn't even heard him, Sebastian shook his head with a fond smile, they sure are excited. It was kind of strange, seeing his partner so animated for a change. He wasn't sure what he looked like when he got excited, but if it was this cute, he could see why they were always staring at him with that smile around their eyes.

Seeing the Keeper frown and heave a disappointed sigh, he placed a hand on the table and leaned forward, peering into the cauldron, and quickly understanding the source of their frustration. The bubbling smoke wasn't mixing with the heavy liquid. Instead, the gassy cloud of bubbles seemed to be creating a layer, sitting over the top of the liquid.

“Maybe give it a stir?” He offered them a ladle and they raised a sceptical eyebrow at him, but took it anyway, lowering it into the pot and giving it a swirl.

Unfortunately, the ladle went right through the stuff, not causing the energy to move at all.

The Keeper sighed again. “Bloody incorporeal energy.”

“Let's not give up yet, why don't you add more emotional pain?” Sebastian suggested. “Maybe it's like potion making and won't react until it's the correct amount?”

“You're right.” The Keeper nodded, giving him a grateful smile, and pulling out more of the energy to add to the mix, murmuring quietly under their breath. “Come on...”

As the smoky layer thickened and the jar gradually emptied, Sebastian noticed that the table under his palm had begun to vibrate ever so slightly, and a feeling of unease washed over him.

“Look out!” He yelped, grabbing the Keeper by the shoulders, pulling them a step back when the cauldron began to hum.

There was a blinding flash of red light, and then the pot went still.

Sebastian's shoulders sagged in relief. “Merlin, thought the thing was going to explode or something.”

Giving Sebastian's hand a gentle pat, the Keeper smiled. “Well, it didn't, but I appreciate your caution.”

Returning to the tableside, the two of them peered into the cauldron and a wide victorious grin spread across the Keeper's face. “Well, looks like I was right about the combination.”

Inside the pot, was now a familiar molten liquid, rolling and swirling restlessly in defiance of gravity.

“And I was right about the ratio.” Sebastian grinned proudly and they nodded with a satisfied smirk.

“Now all we need to do is get more physical pain and we'll be able to convert the entire repository into this... complete pain energy.” The Keeper chuckled and began pulling the freshly created C-Pain energy into the empty jars.

As his partner busied themselves, Sebastian's eyes drifted over the shelfs, checking that all was in order, before his roving gaze came to a stop, resting on the jar of black inky Fear energy. Hang on...

He squinted at the jar.

Was it moving!? Sebastian quickly took the jar down and stared at it intently for a few moments.

“Hey.” Sebastian lifted his head, his brows furrowed. “The fear's... evaporating.”

“It what!?” The Keeper exclaimed, eyes widening in alarm as they set down the jar they'd been holding and snatched the jar of Fear from his hands.

Inside the glass was the unmistakable sight of black smoke rising from the inky sticky mess, and they could easily tell from the residue on the jar's sides that its contents were steadily diminishing.

“Blast. I have to test it before it dissipates then.” The Keeper frowned.

Sebastian's eyes widened in surprise. “Before convincing Ominis?”

“We don't know how fast this will disappear, we can't afford to wait.” The Keeper grimaced. “We'll just have to deal with that later.”

“Good luck with that.” Sebastian's tone was dry, and he caught their hand before they opened the jar. “Hold on a minute. Considering what happened with the wall, perhaps we should do this in the hallway.”

“Ah, yes, good idea.” The Keeper nodded, glancing at the jars on the shelf, before quickly leaving the room with Sebastian in tow.

Outside, the Keeper was once again faced with the question of how to consume a new type of energy. They'd gone with putting the lava-like C-Pain energy in their mouth, like they had with P-Pain, but they really weren't keen on doing that with the icky Fear, even though they knew it wasn't likely to have any taste either.

Drawing a small glob of Fear out of the jar with their wand, the Keeper hesitantly raised it towards their mouth, when said glob decided to elongate, creeping inconspicuously towards the floor, unbeknownst to them.

“Ah, dripping!” Sebastian exclaimed, drawing their attention to it.

The Keeper quickly moved to catch it with the jar and jumped when the string of goop draped across their thumb, its chill sharp and biting against their skin. To their surprise however, the black substance quickly seeped into their pores, their veins pulsing an inky dark, visible just under the surface.

Well, there was their solution then.

“Here, hold this for me.” The Keeper handed off the jar to Sebastian and lowered the rest of the glob, still attached to their wand, into their palm.

In a few moments their body completely absorbed it, the black substance vanishing entirely from sight. Almost instantly, the Keeper felt their heart rate pick up, a lot more than with physical or complete pain energy, they could hear it pounding in their ears and feel it thumping in their chest.

“Oh, okay, that's creepy.” Sebastian commented, his expression rather discomforted and his words oddly muffled in the Keeper's ears.

“What is?” They asked, the question coming out a little breathless.

“Your eyes are black.” Sebastian shuddered. “Completely. Even the whites.”

“Interesting...” The Keeper murmured. “Perhaps all the varying emotions and senses will have different effects on-”

Fuckin’ round with ‘nother bloke ey, slag?

The Keeper stiffened at the barely audible whisper, spinning to face the dark hallway stretching out behind them, their shoulders tense and their eyes darting about in search of its source.

It was empty, not a soul in sight besides Sebastian and themselves, yet that mocking voice had been unmistakable...

“What's wrong?”

Disgusting whelp.

“Lumos.” The Keeper raised their wand to illuminate the dimly lit hallways to their left and right. Where was it coming from? There was a creeping sensation prickling up along the back of their neck, a familiar feeling, the gut tightening sensation of being prey in the eyes of a predator.

Give us a good show then...

“Love?”

On your knees.

They felt it, a shift in the air, the intent of another to grasp their shoulder and force them into submission, the instinct to flee or fight.

Time slowed, every fibre of their being painfully aware of its approach as their heart pounded in their ears.

Without thinking, the Keeper's hand shot out to catch the wrist of their attacker, pulling him forward and slamming him against the wall, their other hand planted firmly between his shoulder blades.

“Ow ow ow! Merlin, I know you like it rough darling, but you gotta give me some warning.” Sebastian groaned from where he was pressed against the bricks and the Keeper immediately released him as though burned, recoiling in confusion.

“S- Sebastian?” They gasped, taking a few shaky steps backwards, their fingers trembling and their knees weak from shock.

“Oh good, you can hear me again.” Sebastian pushed himself off the wall, rubbing his wrist with a dry chuckle, skin red where they'd grabbed. “I was beginning to worry that you might not be able to see me either. Merlin knows I've enough experience with that.”

“What-” The Keeper shook their head, pressing a hand to their warm forehead, the two of them were the only ones in the hallway. Why had it felt like they were in imminent dange-

Sebastian took their hands with a soft smile, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of their fingers soothingly as the black gradually faded from their eyes. “It's alright, it's probably just the Fear you took, likely as not.”

“I- yes... yes that must be it.” The Keeper took a deep breath and shook their head, trying to dispel the lingering disorientation. “Bloody hell, it felt so real... I feel like a right moron. Are you alright? I didn't hurt you, did I?”

They retrieved a hand to brush their thumb gently against his cheek, the soft and freckled skin slightly pink from where it'd impacted the wall.

“It'd take a lot more to injure me, I'm sure you know.” He shook his head with a cheeky grin, before it took on a wry tinge. “Those were some fast reflexes, I'll give you that. But for once, I think it might be better to abstain.”

The Keeper nodded slowly. “I think I'll agree with that sentiment... its boost to reflexes aren't worth that level of anxiety. Over such a small dose no less.”

Not to mention auditory hallucinations. Even if they became more agile, it would be useless if it made them jump at things that weren't there.

“Seems like we won't be able to store it outside a host for very long besides, not exactly a viable substance for use either ways.” Sebastian shrugged.

“...true...” The Keeper sighed. “At least we've confirmed that other emotions can also be extracted.”

“...are you going to tell Ominis about this?” Sebastian asked after a moment.

“Of course. It'd be worse if he found out later. We've done that before, Sebastian.” The Keeper raised an eyebrow at him.

“No, I know, I just... I never know how to help when he's upset.” Sebastian grimaced, taking a breath. “I- it's just, it bothers me. What does it say about me that I can't comfort him after all this time? I love him so much, but I just keep saying the wrong things, sometimes I don't understand why he even likes me.”

“Because you try, because you keep trying. And you have helped. You don't succeed all the time, but he knows you're trying.” The Keeper cupped his jaw gently, placing a soft chaste kiss on his lips. “And I know, so I'm alright with helping you comfort him.”

He placed a hand over theirs, shaking his head ruefully.

“But I freeze up, I panic and open my mouth and then I blurt out the most rubbish things and make him feel worse. Aren't you tired of having to fix my mistakes too?” Sebastian murmured, peering up at them from under his lashes, looking uncharacteristically uncertain.

There was that soft, vulnerable, and very much afraid boy, hidden under all that bravado. Courage was being afraid but pushing through it and trying anyway. The admiration the Keeper had for Sebastian was indescribable and it hurt to see him so insecure.

The Keeper shook their head, the need to reassure him and comfort him was strong enough, that it felt like it was crushing their heart. “Neither of us are, nor need you fear, for I never will be. Everyone's bad at some things and good at others. We're partners. That means we help each other and make up for each other's shortcomings.”

“Ominis knows better than anyone, that being unable to do one thing doesn't make you any less than another. And I know that you hate people who look down on him, for being unable to see, just as much as I do.” The Keeper pressed their forehead against his. “So, don't do it to yourself either.”

A shaky smile fought to raise the corners of Sebastian's lips and the Keeper could see that he was flustered and struggling to find a way to respond, his eyes lowering shyly.

Taking his hand, they tugged him back towards the lab. “Come on, I need to finish packing away the completed pain energy. I'd also like to try making as much of it as we can with the physical pain we've harvested so far, and I need you to help me take notes as we go.”

“Ye-” Sebastian cleared his throat, swallowing before straightening and trying again. “Yeah, sure. Maybe we can figure out the exact ratio of energy, then we'll know how much physical pain we'd need to convert the entire Repository into pain's final form.”

“Sounds like a plan, I'll be counting on you.” The Keeper flashed him a grin and was pleased to see it returned.

“Yeah. Won't let you down.” He squeezed their hand tightly and followed them into the room.

Oh, it's quite alright, they're always being all stoic, and mysterious. They never tell anyone what they're working on and now they’re not letting me see the vivariums till they’re done, such a tease. Then again, I don’t have to tell you, that’s probably something you have to deal with often enough, I don’t know how you do it. You must tell me, one of these days, how you even get them to speak more than five words at a time!

Ominis chuckled, it was indeed a little frustrating that the Keeper rarely kept him in the loop as much as he'd like, quite like Sebastian, but he supposed that could be their own pride at work as well. Both of them. Still, Poppy's words did remind him that the Keeper and Sebastian were naturally very secretive people, and that they were incomparably more honest and forthcoming with him than anyone else.

And that was a good thing.

Even if he wanted them to be more so, especially considering the effort he'd been putting into being more open to discussion and compromise.

“Ominis, we're home.”

He lifted his head, a smile forming on his lips naturally at Sebastian's voice. He might complain about his boyfriend's clinginess, and they may butt heads often, but Ominis couldn’t deny that having Sebastian close always put him at ease in a way he couldn’t explain.

“Welcome home.” Ominis set down the letter he'd been reading.

“Have you had dinner?”

The accompanying sound of the Keeper's footsteps and subsequent sensation of fingers sliding lightly along his arm, on the other hand, made his heart skip a beat. How did this person constantly manage to just do things that made him feel so off-balance? Whether it be anger or arousal, even in the second year of their relationship, he was still getting embarrassingly affected by them.

“Not yet, I was waiting for the two of you to return.” Ominis answered, feeling oddly shy about the admission, perhaps it was a result of Poppy calling out the Keeper's favouritism towards him and Sebastian.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting then.” The Keeper replied, sounding chagrined as they took a seat at the table beside him.

“Not at all, I had just finished reading Poppy's return letter myself.” Ominis shook his head.

“Then let's speak while we eat, we've got some... um, updates for you too.” Sebastian suggested, dropping into a seat as well. “Tibsy.”

As Sebastian spoke with the summoned elf and she set the table with their dinner, Ominis frowned in concern. From his words and the trepidation audible in his voice, Ominis had a feeling that those updates weren't going to be about the castle's construction progress.

“Thank you, Tibsy. You may retire for the night.” The Keeper's dismissal was followed by a soft pop as the elf left.

“So, what is it you have to tell me?” Ominis asked, finding his utensils, and using them to examine the contents of his plate. Spearing a small strip of stewed sea cucumber with his fork, he popped it into his mouth, enjoying the springy texture and flavour of the gravy it had been soaking in, before beginning to cut up the venison steak beside it.

“We've been conducting research into the extraction of elements other than pain from our remaining guest.” The Keeper began, and already Ominis was irritated. “Today I successfully extracted Fear from him.”

“Why? Such a thing is unrelated to curing Anne.” Ominis demanded, his eyes narrow, they hadn't even taken the time to consult him before doing this... “It's inviting unnecessary danger, meddling in things we needn't and wandering into unknown territory.”

“Ominis, this power I have is completely unknown. The only person researching it was a madwoman from four hundred years ago.” The Keeper sighed. “Everything is unknown and will forever be so, if I do nothing with it.”

“Omi, I know you're worried about us, but if we don't find out, no one will. Are you really okay with letting this power just disappear, allowing knowledge to remain out of reach?” Sebastian entreated, and Ominis’ jaw tightened in response.

“I am.” Ominis replied firmly. “I'd rather ‘waste’ this opportunity than lose either of you.”

“Unfortunately, we wouldn't.” The Keeper's voice was hard. “We can't. Ominis, I understand your fear, but I can't just do nothing. This power is a part of me, and I want to understand it. To understand myself. And I need you to accept this.”

Ominis’ lips tightened, and a moment of silence passed, as he bit back the itch to snap that he was constantly the one pressured to be accepting of their decisions. Even he understood that it wasn’t like they’d chosen to have this Ancient magic ability that’s more unknown than your average witch or wizard’s skillset.

“You're the only person, I think, who can find their wand just by feeling its magic. The only one whose wand helps them see, and yet you still use it.” Sebastian pointed out. “Nobody taught you, nobody could. You had to figure it out on your own.”

Ominis sighed, he couldn’t quite argue with the two of them when they put it that way. Would he stop using his wand sight simply because it was unknown and could be dangerous? ...the answer was obvious. He too had tested the capabilities of his wand's vision, straining it to its limit to try and understand his own abilities.

“I suppose I can see where you're both coming from. It's just-” Ominis’ breath caught at the fear that gnawed at the edges of his heart. “I can't lose either of you.”

“You won't, we'll be careful.” Sebastian insisted. “In fact, we were so careful that- ah.”

The Keeper sighed and Ominis frowned.

“You were...” Ominis repeated, going silent for a moment, before the knife, clenched tightly in his hand, came down abruptly, its tip stabbing into the meat of his steak with a squelch. “You already tested it!?”

“Unng- sorry.” Sebastian murmured, likely to their partner.

“It's fine... I was about to go there anyway.” The Keeper sounded very tired. Well, too fucking bad, Ominis was pretty tired too, of being treated like his opinions on the experiments didn't matter.

“Ominis.” The Keeper's warm fingers brushed against his fist as he clutched the knife, and Ominis hated how the contact immediately soothed some of his anger. “Ominis, love, please hear me out first.”

He ground his teeth but remained silent.

“The Fear energy we’d collected appeared to be evaporating. I couldn't be sure that we would be able to successfully harvest more, and we didn't know how long it would take before it disappeared entirely." The Keeper paused for a moment, before continuing in a cautious tone. “Ominis, had I believed it wouldn't take an hour to persuade you, I might have waited for you to be present. However, I'd only have reason to believe that, if you were able to trust my judgement.”

“You didn't even give me the chance!” Ominis snapped back indignantly, offended that they were making their own secrecy out to be his fault.

“Why would I, when every other time has required no less than an hour to convince you?” The Keeper replied, their voice quiet and pleading. “Love, I'm not blaming you, I'm just telling you my reasoning for my decision. I didn't think you'd give me permission in time, if at all, because I had no reason to.”

“That's-” Ominis released his fork from his left hand and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “I-”

“...Ominis, I understand your fears, but I will not always have the time to seek counsel from you. I care about what you feel.” The Keeper's fingers were rubbing against his gently and it was starting to become difficult to hold on to his anger. “But if I am to do anything without making you feel like I'm intentionally hurting you by doing so, I'd need you to trust that I do care and would do my upmost to act with consideration for you.”

“I- I do! I just-” Ominis bit his lip and shook his head, he did want to. He really did. He wanted to trust them. He just couldn't get the feeling to go away, the fear of being betrayed. He didn't know how to. It was there, everywhere he looked, and he couldn’t turn away from it.

“They could have kept it from you.” Sebastian's voice shook, and Ominis wondered what was making him sound so afraid. “We could have kept it from you. Entirely. Think about it Ominis, you didn't even know we were experimenting with Fear. We could easily have kept it a secret completely. But we didn't.”

Sebastian took a deep breath before speaking in a rush, as though he were forcing the words out. “I asked them, if they were going to tell you, and they didn't even hesitate. I did. I was afraid that you'd be angry, that you'd push us away. Push me away, again. But they didn't want to betray your trust more than they feared your wrath, and neither did I.”

Ominis blanched. Fear? He'd made Sebastian afraid? Of telling him the truth?

“If you give us reason to fear being honest with you, eventually that which you fear… might become a reality.” The Keeper's voice was enviably calm, despite the gravity of their words, and Ominis was starting to feel like he was the one who'd been behaving like a hysterical woman.

“Ominis, while I understand it, it does still hurt to know that I don't have your trust.” The Keeper murmured, their voice sad. “You're not the only one who hurts when we do this.”

He flinched, that's right, he'd feel pain too if they expressed doubt of him and his love for them. He'd said the same himself when convincing the Keeper to be honest about their addiction. He'd allowed himself, in his pain, to forget that if they were being honest, his reaction in and of itself would then be causing pain as well.

“I... I'm sorry.” Ominis sighed, releasing his knife along with his anger, and taking the Keeper's hand in his own instead. “Sebastian, I- ...that helped. I couldn't change my perspective, not on my own. Thank you. Both of you.”

Ominis paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. “I'm... I can't say I'll always be able to take it calmly, but I do trust the both of you, or at least, I want to. And… and I’ll try to remember this the next time you tell me about something you did before getting my input.”

“Darling, it's okay if we have to do this again, because with this, you've given us reason to believe that you will trust our judgement, that under your initial panicked response, you trust that we would do what pleases you if we could.” The Keeper placed his palm against their lips, so he could feel their smile. “That all we need do is remind you.”

Ominis smiled in return, perhaps this is what he should have done when Sebastian sought to cure Anne, perhaps this was the same problem Solomon had had. He and Solomon had made Sebastian afraid to be honest with them, and all it'd done was push Sebastian to pursue a cure in secret, almost costing him Sebastian altogether.

Yet, both he and Solomon had believed full-heartedly that the dark arts would also take Sebastian away, turn him into a monster. How was he to reconcile such a dilemma? Or could he do both? Not give his lovers the impression that he would reject them outright, while still maintaining his position.

“See Seb, I told you, you do manage to say the right thing sometimes.” The Keeper chuckled, loosening their grip on Ominis’ hand.

“Ugh, I think I burned half my brain cells doing that.” Sebastian groaned, and the sound of his chair's legs creaking quietly suggested that he'd leaned against its backrest.

“Save your relief for after you tell me what happened during the test.” Ominis folded his arms. “I get the point about my needing to be careful not to scare the two of you into dishonesty. Especially when you can’t get to hear my opinion, but I'm still going to evaluate your actions and decide if I'm alright with you even continuing this experimentation to begin with.”

There was a moment of silence, before the Keeper snorted. “Fair enough.”

Leaning forward, the Keeper steepled their fingers together thoughtfully. Honestly, they were very relieved at how smoothly that had gone, they'd been concerned that it was too early to try pushing that idea to Ominis, but it seemed like it'd been the right time to do so.

Now, the question was how to present the events of the day. Since Sebastian's factual and straightforward approach had been well received...

“Well, for starters, Fear energy seems to behave like, well, fear. It didn't need much in way of extraction, all I had to do was touch it and it latched on to me, following my magic out of Selwyn.” The Keeper began, taking a bite of their now cold steak. “An hour or so after extraction, Sebastian noticed it evaporating in its jar.”

“Yeah, it was practically smoking away.” Sebastian nodded, following their lead, and returning to his food. “I suggested we perform testing outside the lab, where there was more space. Turned out to be a good choice.”

“Upon testing, it appears to induce increased heart rate and anxiety, breathing difficulties, and auditory hallucinations from... unpleasant memories. Not an experience I’d recommend.” The Keeper drawled with a grimace. “As for benefits, it seems to boost reflexes, but we've decided that such a meagre benefit is not worth consumption and I've discarded it as a source of energy.”

Ominis blinked in apparent surprise and Sebastian flashed him a wry smile. “I told you, we're being careful.”

The shadow of scepticism crossed over Ominis’ face for a brief moment, before he shook his head and smiled instead. “I'm glad to hear that the two of you at least have the sense not to take something that sounds like outright poison.”

At his words, a sharp grin spread across the Keeper's face and their eyes gleamed with dark delight. “Funny you should say that, darling, because a few hours later, we made a discovery that makes this energy extremely viable as a poison.”

Ominis seemed to shiver at their words- Sebastian too actually, and the Keeper raised an eyebrow at their reactions. What? Was it something they said?

“What-” Ominis cleared his throat, cheeks slightly pink. “What did you discover?”

Brushing the moment off, the Keeper continued. “We found this.”

The Keeper withdrew a small pouch from their pocket and turned it upside down over the table. A single black orb fell onto the wooden surface with a solid thunk, about the size of a Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Bean, its surface pitch black, perfectly smooth, and glossy.

“The Fear wasn't simply evaporating, it was condensing.” The Keeper tapped lightly on the table where they'd dropped the orb. “I'm calling it a Fear-Pill, at the moment. Take a look, I'm curious if you'll be able to see it with your wand.”

Setting down his utensils, Ominis drew his wand, and its tip began pulsing with red light. “Hm, I can tell there's something there, yes. My wand's sight is a bit difficult to describe, but it feels like magic, like spells do when cast, just swirling about on the spot.”

“Interesting.” Sebastian hummed thoughtfully.

“We haven't tested this yet-” The Keeper quickly continued when Ominis expression became alarmed. “On Selwyn! Not on either of us.”

“Yeaaah, I know you don't think highly of our self-preservation instincts, but we're not that stupid.” Sebastian huffed. “If barely a handful can drive our fearless leader here batty, this little bugger's got to pack a hell of a punch.”

“That'll be fun to watch.” The Keeper exchanged a snide grin with Sebastian.

Ominis sighed. “Hopefully it doesn't kill him.”

“Yeah, there's bound to be a decent danger of that.” Sebastian nodded absently. “Would probably be good for you to be on standby on the First Basement floor.”

“We should probably get more Fear out of him before testing the pill, in case it kills him. Next week should do.” The Keeper turned the pouch inside out and picked up the Fear-Pill with it, before placing a hand on Ominis’ shoulder. “We'll call you if we need you.”

Ominis smiled softly. “You'd better.”

“Well, that's boring.” Sebastian commented dryly.

“Maybe it's not having any effect because the fear came from him?” The Keeper frowned down at Selwyn, who was slumped over in his chair, jaw still hanging agape after they'd forced the Fear-Pill down his gullet.

“Oi, Selwyn.” The Keeper kicked lightly at his leg, expecting him to react, to attempt to fight or flee despite being chained to the chair. They'd become fast enough to catch Sebastian's hand in mid-air after consuming the Fear-Pill, but Selwyn's body showed no sign of any change, his eyes weren't even black.

Then again, his eyes weren't just not-black, they also weren't moving. At all.

On closer inspection, his wide eyes were completely vacant and didn't even react to their words or actions. Which was definitely not natural, creepily so. Perhaps...

The Keeper drew their wand. “Legilimens.”

Huh, no defences again- the thought had barely crossed their mind, when the Keeper was forcefully pulled into a memory, flinching when they were hit with a wave of pain and the sound of muffled screaming.

They had been expecting it to a certain extent, but they’d pegged the boy as an entitled and pampered rich kid, one with perhaps some bad memories of being denied candy. They certainly hadn't expected to see violence, much less someone fucking Selwyn's ass raw into an expensive looking carpet.

“P- please, brother- stop- it hurts... I'm sorry-”

Yeap, that was a mental image the Keeper could have done without. They exited his mind immediately.

“How'd it look?” Sebastian asked as the Keeper came back to themselves.

“Horrible, he's in a waking nightmare.” They grimaced in disgust. “Seems like he's been sexually violated by his brother before, and the pill is making him relive his traumatic memories.”

Sebastian's eyebrows climbed into his fringe. “Huh. That's darker than I expected, I'd feel bad for him if he hadn't attempted to murder you a million times.”

“Does make sense I suppose. Monsters are made by other monsters...” The Keeper murmured, thinking of Isidora, of Ranrok, of themselves, of Ominis and Sebastian.

A heartless witch created by negligent mentors, a vindictive monster created by racism, a cannibal created by a corrupt system, a rabid cornered animal created by an abusive family and a sadist created by a callous uncle. They were all monsters by society's standards, in one way or another, but they hadn't appeared out of nowhere, they were a product of a world of monsters.

But the Keeper was fine with being a monster, they would simply chain two to their side and devour the rest. Perhaps then the world would have less monsters in general.

“Macnair probably had something too.” The Keeper mused as they holstered their wand, frowning thoughtfully. Well, Tynx was out on a grocery run so... “Tibsy.”

The elf popped into the cell and gave them a nervous bow. “Yes, Master?”

“Monitor him and record the time that he exits his stupor.” They gestured at Selwyn. “Don't worry, he can't hurt you while chained to the chair.”

“Yes, Master.” Tibsy squeaked, bowing again and the Keeper turned to leave the cell, before she quickly called after them. “Oh, Master, Tibsy was being helpings to Sir Ominis with brewings...”

“Oh, is that so? Thank you for letting me know.” The Keeper blinked. “Come on, Sebastian. We were planning to update Ominis anyway.”

“Do you really have to?” Ominis heaved a sigh.

“Well, mixing emotional and physical pain created an enhanced version of pain. So surely adding fear would only enhance it further, or at least give us something new.” Sebastian reasoned, and Ominis’ lips pressed into a thin line.

“Sorry for summoning Tibsy in the middle of helping you brew.” The Keeper smiled sheepishly.

“It's fine.” Ominis shook his head with another long-suffering sigh. “Just- just be careful, alright?”

“Of course, Sebastian can help you with brewing while I play around with the energies.” The Keeper gave him a kiss on the cheek before striding to their potions station leaning against the wall to the right of Ominis’.

Setting up the station like before, the Keeper dumped half a jar of completed and combined C-Pain into the cauldron, before opening a jar of liquid fear, labelled L-Fear, which they'd extracted before they'd given Selwyn the Fear-Pill. A majority of it had already solidified but there was still about half a jar worth of liquid remaining.

They'd found that the necessary ratio for C-Pain was equal amounts of E-Pain and P-Pain. As such, they'd attempt to reach the same ratio for L-Fear and C-Pain today. Drawing out the Fear with their wand, the Keeper grimaced as the sticky black slime began its slow descent into the cauldron.

The instant that the Fear's black tendrils touched the bubbling red and black lava however, the substance reacted violently, hissing, and bubbling angrily.

A beat passed, before a shock wave blasted out from the cauldron, knocking the Keeper's wand and the jar of liquid Fear from their hands, sending both flying in two directions.

It almost felt like time slowed, the Keeper watching in horror as the jar of Fear flew in the direction of Sebastian and Ominis at the station to their left.

No. The Keeper's chest tightened, this was their fault. Neither Sebastian nor Ominis should ever be touched by Fear, they wouldn't allow it. They wouldn't allow either of their lovers to be forced into anything approaching the nightmare that Selwyn was trapped within.

Reaching a hand towards the boys in desperation, the Keeper shouted. “Protego!”

At the same time, turning to look at the sounds, Sebastian spotted the incoming jar, and immediately realised that there wasn't enough time for him to cast anything or pull Ominis out of the way. Instead, he placed his back in the path of the black liquid spilling out of the jar, covering the other boy in his arms as he braced for impact.

Only for the sound of shattering glass to follow.

Opening his eyes tentatively, Sebastian raised his head, his breath heavy as he looked behind him, surprised to see the black ink sliding down a protego shield and the Keeper behind it, their open palm raised towards him and Ominis. The shield flickered for a moment, before disappearing, allowing the glass and Fear to slide to the floor.

“Are- are you two alright?” The Keeper gasped, their chest heaving.

“Y- yeah...” Sebastian nodded, his eyes wide. “Did you just- did you just cast wandless magic?”

“I... I suppose I did.” The Keeper blinked, lowering their hand to stare at their own palm.

“What happened?” Ominis demanded, his tone contrasting with the way he clutched at Sebastian's arm, looking somewhat like a spooked deer.

“The energy... reacted explosively.” The Keeper explained, taking a few steps around the mess on the floor to embrace the two boys. “I'm sorry. I should have been more careful.”

They'd need to put up a shield around the cauldron next time. The Keeper breathed a sigh of relief, cradling Ominis’ head against their left shoulder and Sebastian's against their right. That had been close, too close. Both of the boys had more than enough traumatic memories, a Fear stupor would be absolutely awful for either.

It was one thing for them to hurt themselves for their goals, and another to hurt their treasured ones. Not even the greatest power was worth that.

“What are the chances you'll finally stop this insanity?” Ominis mumbled, his words muffled against the Keeper's tunic.

“...next to none, I'm afraid.” The Keeper grimaced, stroking a hand over his hair. “I will take more precautions however, you have my word.”

With a sigh, Ominis shook his head. “And if someone gets hurt the next time something unexpected goes wrong?”

“...we'll just have to be three steps ahead. I won't waste this lesson.” The Keeper replied firmly, turning to press their lips to the side of Ominis’ head. They could still feel the tension in his body, but he sighed again and seemed to relent.

“Sebastian said... did you cast a wandless protego?” Ominis asked instead, changing the topic, and trying to lift his head from their shoulder, only for the Keeper to force it back down. They weren't ready to let him go just yet. He gave a soft amused huff against their collar and remained still.

“Yeah. I- I think my wand's somewhere on the other side of the room.” The Keeper murmured.

“You're absolutely crazy.” Sebastian chuckled. “Ancient magic, wandless magic, it'd make more sense if you were the reincarnation of Merlin himself.”

Ominis made a thoughtful sound. “...children usually start learning magic with wands at eleven, while their cores are still too weak to wield proper magic…”

Sebastian hummed. “Oh, that's right, maybe it’s because you’ve only just started using a wand. So, not only is your core already fully grown, your body hasn’t become reliant on wands yet.”

The Keeper took a last breath of their mingling scents before releasing the boys. “Sounds reasonable to me...”

Casting their eyes about, the Keeper spotted their wand lying by the wall across the room and stretched their hand out towards it. “Accio.”

To their delight, their wand did in fact, move towards them. To their disappointment however, it did so in a slow and sluggish roll across the floor, like a ball in Summoner's Court, before stopping an entire meter away from their feet.

“Well, guess there has to be something you're not a natural at.” Sebastian grinned wryly, sounding oddly pleased about that.

“Isn't Onai- I mean, Natty, from Uagadou? I heard they don't use wands there. Perhaps she would be willing to teach you.” Ominis suggested.

“That's a good idea, I've seen her use wandless magic before too, I'll ask her about it.” They nodded.

Wandless magic, huh. The Keeper grinned, excellent. Another weapon in their arsenal.

Notes:

You can also view the artwork in HD for free on my Patreon page!

Chinese Water Torture was first described in the late 15th or early 16th century by Hippolytus de Marsiliis, an Italian chap, so it's prooooobably not Chinese, but who knows man.

I don't like the ‘hysterical woman’ stereotype, but unfortunately it's the kind of thing a man in the 1800s would think. So, please note that that mental comment from Ominis is only there because of time-appropriate sexism, not because I'm endorsing that kind of mentality.

I think that it is no coincidence that in Hogwarts Legacy's story, thrice is a character denied support and given rebukes for their pursuits (Isidora, Sebastian and Natty) and all three of those times, the character pursues it anyway, just on their own rather than with supervision and guidance. Which is far worse than letting the person pursue it and just being there to support them and guide them.

Many parents fail in the same way, at balancing the danger of letting a kid do what they want and letting them make mistakes vs forcing them to not with an iron fist. I believe that if Professor Rackham hadn't shut Isidora down, he might have been able to guide her off the path, same for Solomon and Sebastian, and Onai and Natty.

The difference between Isidora and Sebastian (and Natty), was that Isidora didn't have a friend who refused to give up on her and a friend who was walking her path with her. MC and Ominis are the reason Sebastian has the option of a good end- I mean, the reason Sebastian gets a good ending. (Another ending? Where he gets turned in? No clue what you're talking about, there is only one ending.)

Also, dunno if you guys remember but in Part 2, chapter 5, Ominis used the “Don't you trust us?” guilt trip on the Keeper too, so they're just uno reversing it back on him haha

There's also a curious conflict between your average person and an explorer. Explorers are, by the common man's mind, insane. To risk all and everything for an endeavour that may end in absolutely nothing or even backfire. Yet humanity's greatest achievements have been from such adventurers with more curiosity than fear.

It is fascinating, the intersection between the people who must have wished their loved ones stayed in their boring everyday life rather than lost it in search of the literal unknowable and the adventurers themselves. I find that I relate well to both, the desire to preserve happiness and the urge to seek the unknown at the risk of it.

Both desires have been at constant war within me since I was a kid, and I have a feeling that I am not alone in this internal conflict. So, it is honestly fun to write such perspectives into different characters and pit them against each other xD

[jobrookekarev]

could you potentially do a prompt where arizona mentions alex (to jo) when she returns? i’m interested to see your take on that, especially now that she’s with he-who-shall-not-be-named

AN: i loved this idea and may or may not write about Jo going to New York. 🤷‍♀️

It’s Nice to Have a Friend

Words: 2,244

Summary: Arizona comes back to Seattle and works with Jo before trying to fix her and Alex’s relationship, despite how Jo has moved on. 

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy.

Relationship:  Arizona Robbins and Jo Wilson, Alex Karev/Jo Wilson (Mentioned), Arizona Robbins/Callie Torres, (Mentioned)

Characters: Jo Wilson and Arizona Robbins, Carina DeLuca (Mentioned) 

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences.

Additional Tags: Cannon, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship,  Deviates From Canon, LGBTQ Themes, One Shot, Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Drama, Friendship/Love, LGBTQ Character, Domestic,  Angst with a Happy Ending, 

Read at AO3

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14334605/1/It-s-Nice-to-Have-a-Friend

…………………………………………………………………

Of course, Jo was avoiding Arizona.

The second Jo heard that she would be visiting she planned accordingly. Arizona was there to teach the interns about the work at the Robbins-Herman Foundation, and both Surgery and OB residents and interns were required to attend. Carina thought she would be excited, as she was excited to see Arizona, but Jo wasn't.

Therefore, she was unable to escape it, even by trying to fake an emergency. Arizona wanted her up front to help her present and Jo did her best at trying to remain back especially as she and Carina talked. She ultimately ran away the second the presentation was done, avoiding all small talk with Arizona. 

She had strategically stacked her schedule with a general surgery she knew was outside of Arizona's specialty.

She didn't want to see Arizona, she didn't want to talk to her, to hear the word she would say, she didn't even want to think of her being in the building. Until Melina went into labor. 

Jo had promised Melina she'd be there to deliver her daughter as she had a cleft palate. She worked really hard to get a report with her and get her to trust her and the hospital. Melina's previous baby had died because of a medical error and up until her baby had been diagnosed with a cleft palate she had refused to deliver in a hospital. 

So Jo of course stepped in the second Melina was in labor. 

“You're doing great Melina, just a couple more pushes and your baby is going to be in your arms,” Jo said to her as she sat between Melina's legs. The head had been peeking out and Jo was ready to catch the baby. 

“I want to feel her head, I want to know she’s okay,” Melina said, reaching forward as her husband held her up, and Jo took her hand and guided her down to feel her baby’s head. 

“She’s got a lot of hair, can you feel it?” Jo asked her as she smiled.

“I can feel it,” Melina said as she cried with happiness. 

“Okay, push, push,” Jo said as Melina pushed and the head was delivered. “Okay Melina, just give me a second, pause and breathe.”

“You're doing so good, my love,” her husband said as he focused on her, holding her up and as he leaned in and whispered words of encouragement to her. 

Jo assessed the baby's cleft palate, as she cleared their airway. It didn’t look as bad. 

“Okay, I have to push again,” Melina said as she felt another contraction coming. 

“Okay push, push, and your baby's going to be here,” Jo promised her as Melina pushed and out popped and Jo caught the beautiful baby. 

They let out a cry, as Jo held them up for Melina and her husband to see. Melina cried with happiness as her husband stood there in awe. 

“It’s a happy and strong girl,” Jo said as she placed the baby on their chest as Melina held her baby. 

“She's beautiful,” Melina cried as she cradled her baby. “Dr. Wilson, her cleft isn't that bad is it?” 

“Let’s take a look, Jo said as she waited for Melina to hand the baby over. 

She did reluctantly and watched intently as Jo took the baby girl over to the baby warmer. Jo suctioned her mouth as the baby cried and grabbed her flashlight. She looked in the baby’s mouth and lip to see the palate and couldn't stop herself from letting out a breath as she saw the large open cleft palate. The entire roof of their mouth was gone. 

“Let's page the on-call pediatrician,” Jo said as the nurse next to her nodded and one of the other nurses ran out.

“Alright, I'm just going to take the baby to get them measured and weighed,” Jo said, turning back to give Melina a small smile. 

“What do we have?” Arizona's voice shocked her and Jo nearly jumped back. 

She didn't say anything as one of the nurses explained the case to Arizona as she assessed the baby. Jo stepped back and looked over at Melina. 

“I have to push again.” 

“Okay, let’s deliver the placenta.”

“What about my baby?” 

“She’s got a severe cleft palate, but Dr. Robbins is the best pediatric surgeon I know, she’s in good hands.”

While she let Arizona focus on the baby, everything was in slow motion as she helped Melina. Jo listened to Arizona as she treated the baby giving her an assessment and before the baby calmed. Jo disposed of the placenta and Melina’s bleeding was under control as Arizona placed the baby back in Melina's arms.

She said a lot of things about the cleft lip and palate and her plan for the baby, but she also reassured them that they still had a happy healthy baby. 

“You're lucky Dr. Wilson is one of the best.” Jo was quick to catch this Arizona as beamed over at her, but she could only manage a forced smile and a nod in agreement. 

“I'll leave you two to get to know your baby,” Jo said as she quickly escaped the room, but Melina and her husband were too enthralled in their baby to notice. 

“Jo wait,” Arizona called after her, but Jo was halfway down the hallway. 

She didn’t wait or stop to look back as she started to run down the halls looking for any escape. She didn't realize how nervous she was until she stopped at the elevator, pressing the buttons on repeat before deciding she should take the stairs. She quickly ran and opened the door, but before she could escape into the stairwell, Arizona caught her arm. Arizona pushed her forward as they both stepped into the stairwell.

“I have to go, I have another case in the ER,” Jo said as she quickly tried to run down the stairs and escape the impending conversation she knew was about to happen. 

“Jo wait please just let me talk to you for a moment,” Arizona said as she tried to plead with her and kept her grasp on Jo's elbow.

“Well forgive me for not wanting to talk about the man who fucken left me!” Jo yelled as she escaped Arizona and ran down the stairs. 

“He only told me a week ago!” Arizona said in defeat as Jo paused, she didn't turn around, but Arizona went on. 

“Up until then, he had told me that you both were still in Seattle, happily married and that both of you had adopted Luna. I mentioned that I was going to Seattle and that I was excited to see you all and he broke down until told me everything. About Izzie and the twins and Kansas and everything. I was so angry with him so much that I took a pit stop in Kansas just to yell at him. Then I saw how miserable he is out there.” 

“I don't care,” Jo said, cutting her off and turning around to face her. “I'm glad he's miserable, he made his bed now he can lie in it. I rebuilt my life without him. I'm an amazing general surgeon and I'm at the top of my class for OB. I have a family, a daughter, without him. I rebuilt everything without him. ”

“I know,” Arizona said softly, as Jo let out her anger in a breath. 

“When Callie and I divorced, we had the most bitter custody battle. I literally went to war with Callie over our daughter. And looking back I regret the way I handled things we both do. After I moved to New York,  we managed to repair our relationship and fall in love again…”

“Just because Alex is your baby brother and I'm bisexual doesn't mean that our relationship is anything like yours.” 

“Okay hold up,” Arizona said, holding your hands up as Jo paused and huffed, crossing her arms. “I had no idea you were bisexual, so we're going to have to revisit this later. But I'm not trying to play matchmaker.” 

“Oh really?” Jo asked, raising an eyebrow at her. 

“Okay maybe a little bit but Alex is brother to me and you're family too, anyone who works at Grey-Slone is family to me. And I want my family to be happy. Callie and I had the worst divorce and now we're getting married again! and I love you and I love Alex and I'm not trying to take sides in this, but I am saying that there is a chance that you could repair your relationship.”

“Arizona, no.”

“Yes, because you two were so in love! Out of all the couples at Gray-Sloan you guys were the one every rooted for. I remember your third year residency when you and Alex, broke up. I thought you'd never forgive him then, but you did! You were so much in love that you repaired your relationship and came back stronger. I just want you and Alex to have the same happiness that Callie and I have.” 

Arizona reached out and put her hands on Jo's shoulders, but Jo shook her head pressing her fingers to her head as she rubbed her forehead. 

“You don't understand,” Jo said, looking at Arizona and begging her to listen. 

“Alex and I didn't just divorce, he left me for his ex-wife and his kids! And I understand why he did it, but he still left me. It was a choice that he made to end our marriage, instead of trying to work it all out and be honest with me. He chose our divorce. And yes, I still love him, deeply. But I can never love him again because of the trust that he broke. If we ever get back together there will always be a part of me that will question if he's just going to leave me again. I can't live like that and I won't raise my daughter in a relationship like that. Luna doesn't deserve that, She deserves to have parents who love and support each other. Alex and I will never have that.” 

“Is that why you're with Link?” 

“Yes, Link is my best friend and I love him,” Jo sighed as she thought about the life she and Link had together and the ring he had in his drawer for her. 

Arizona was silent for a moment. She looked away from Jo's eyes and nodded, before she pulled Jo in for a hug. “I know I'm sorry I didn't mean to over step.”

“Thank you,” Jo said, as she smiled and relaxed.

“I know that you have a life here in Seattle with Luna and Link, but I'd like to accelerate your studies and offer you a fellowship in New York. You are so talented and I've seen you handle tricky situations that most third year residents would drown in. Carina said that the two of you have transformed the maternity ward here in Seattle and cut the maternal mortality rate from 30% down to 3%. I want to implement those changes in New York and bring those changes to every single hospital in the US.”

Arizona beamed a smile and Jo stood in awe of the offer Arizona had given her.

“But you should also know that I've also offered Alex a job in New York and I think he’ll take it.”

“You can't play matchmaker, Arizona,” Jo said as she sighed and shook her head. “I know that it's only been a few weeks for you, but it's been three years for me. My daughter is the best thing that's ever happened to me and it never would have happened if he hadn't left me. And yeah, maybe we would have adopted her together, but it doesn't change the fact that he left. I'm alone and nothing you or him would change that. He made the choice to leave and I made the choice to stay away from him.”

Jo looked up at Arizona, pleading with her to accept this and she finally nodded. “I understand, but I'm still hoping that you'll at least come to visit New York, let me show you around the Robbins-Herman Foundation, please?”

Jo looked down but smiled. “I'll consider it.”

“Great,” Arizona said as she reached out and wrapped Jo in a hug. “Now tell me all about this research you and Carina are doing on intrauterine scarring.” 

“Well, Carina and I have started researching how to use the uterus's ability to shed its lining and discard tissue to shed the scar tissue and completely rebuild the walls of the uterus again.”

Jo smiled as they started to walk downstairs together and Arizona hung on her every word. It was clear to Arizona that Jo was passionate about her work, and she was proud of her. It took a special person to succeed in this field and Arizona was so happy to have Jo be a part of this. They talked for hours, meeting after work at Jo's Penthouse where Arizona was able to meet Luna and she absolutely doted on her. Arizona was able to convince Jo to come to New York, at least for a conference and to look around the foundation. Yet, Jo didn't want to accept her offer of a job. Still, they promised to keep in contact and Jo felt good about having her friend back in her life.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

To Mama Rosehearts: (calmly but sarcastically) Oh, hello. You must be Mrs. Rosehearts. How do you do on this fine day? Forgive me for staring but I must say, you look quite stunning, madame. Your haircut really suits your face. (Mama Rosehearts asks about Riddle) Riddle? Oh don't worry about him, he's doing fine. He always had a knack for keeping things under control. Unlike some people.

Aaaand here’s the big one… the final boss of Family Day…

I tried to write this with a nuanced look at Mama Rosehearts, as I felt this was the most fitting for TWST’s themes of grey morality (which also comes through in the OB boys). No one is truly 100% evil, and I didn’t want to just have her screaming at other people 💦

Mama Rosehearts’s parenting methods are overly controlling, she’s uncompromising, and she has a bad temper. But in her eyes, she believes what she’s doing is genuinely the best for her son, and she’s also protective of him. She absolutely cares for Riddle in spite of her strictness. I wanted those aspects of her character to be present too, not just the worst parts of her that we tend to hate.

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

The problem with bad apples, you sometimes thought to yourself (blame Epel for sticking the apple metaphors in your head), is that they appear so normal at a glance. It’s hard to tell they’re rotten until you’ve had a close look for yourself.

Gazing at Mrs. Rosehearts, you’re shaken. Your mental image of her, cobbled together by hushed words and wisps of shadow, was always that of a monster—the kind that caged children and relished in feeding them lies, keeping them ensnared and submissive. Mother knows best. Listen to your mother. It’s a scary world out there.

She stood before you in blood red heels, wrapped in a smart business suit and modest pencil skirt in the same shade. Her hands were adorned in tulle gloves, sheer enough to grant a glimpse at her immaculate nails. Arms folded, head high, she was poised like an imposing queen before delivering her judgment.

Her eyes a blue-grey, red hair tightly pulled back and secured by a hair clasp. Even her bangs were cut the same, two locks atop her head curling into a heart-like shape. Mrs. Rosehearts was the spitting image of Riddle—or was it more accurate to say that he was a spitting image of her?

But if she was a monster, and Riddle, the same as her…

The terrified expressions of Heartslabyul students blitzed through your mind. The garden and its roses falling apart around them.

“He… He was really gonna do it…”

“He’s completely out of control.”

“He’s like some kinda monster!”

You couldn’t tear your eyes away. They quivered, burning with an indescribable intensity.

“Hello.” Her first came clipped, cutting right by your greeting and fabricated compliment. “I can’t say I care for your tone of voice.”

Mrs. Rosehearts diverted her attention from you and to the young man standing in her shadow. “Riddle. They seem know you, but surely this one doesn’t belong to your dormitory?”

You could barely recognize him. The Riddle you knew was serious and strict—but he was also someone who loved to tend to the hedgehogs, and adored tea parties in the garden. His smile could practically make the flowers bloom.

But now he was less of a blossoming rose and more of a shrinking violet, most traces of his confidence wiped away. He diligently trailed behind his mother, appearing even smaller than usual. Meeker, and less sure of himself.

A remnant of Riddle. Not a rose-red ruler, but just a sad little child.

You stared at him helplessly, and he refused to meet your eyes.

“No, mother.” A trained, automatic response. “They are not a student of Heartslabyul.”

“I thought so,” Mrs. Rosehearts sniffed, unimpressed but satisfied. She silently noted your untucked shirt, stray hair, and crooked tie. “They’re far too ungroomed to be someone under your rule.

“And here I was, worrying that you had fallen in with the wrong crowd again. You aren’t still hanging around those horrid Clover and Pinker boys, are you?”

Trey and Che’nya. Your stomach churned, upset for them in their absence.

“Well…” Riddle fidgeted uneasily. Unable to tell a lie, and lacking the courage to tell the truth.

You took the chance to cut in, your eyes close to burning a hole in his mother. “Oh, don't worry about him. Riddle’s doing fine. He’s always had a knack for keeping things under control, unlike some people.”

Mrs. Rosehearts frowned at the insinuation. Her next words could make flowers freeze over. “You’d do well to learn some control yourself. This conversation is between a mother and her son.”

She placed a protective hand on his upper back and gave a slight nudge. “Come, Riddle. We wouldn’t want to be late to speak with your professors.“

“Yes…” He reluctantly turned away from you, trying to focus on the road head. At the path already chosen for him.

You couldn’t help yourself. Your feet fell forward, and you called after him.

“Riddle…!!”

“That’s quite enough,” Mrs. Rosehearts snapped. Her cheeks colored red with rage as she stepped between you and Riddle. “I don’t know who you think you are, sticking your nose in our affairs like this!! I won’t have another unruly child and their bad attitude invading my son’s life—not again!”

Anger surged in your chest. There were so many things you wanted to tell her, things she couldn’t possibly know because she never bothered to entertain them.

Riddle likes strawberry tarts. He doesn’t care if the roses are white, or if the flamingos are pink. And he prefers honey to sugar cubes in his tea, and milk tea over lemon tea. After a meal, he wants to sits and talk with everyone.

The smart thing to do, you thought, is to bite my tongue, or else it’ll just lead to a pointless screaming match.

But you weren’t so smart. Your opened your mouth, prepares to let loose a torrent to challenge her.

What rang out instead, loud and clear, was a boy’s authoritative voice.

“Excuse me, mother!”

"Yes, Riddle? You have something to add?"

“I..." He caught his still-quivering words and straightened. A quiet resolve burned in his steely eyes. "Those selected by the Mirror of Darkness boast exceptional potential and strong moral character. That holds true for myself, as well as my peers. I will not underestimate them, and nor should you."

Mrs. Rosehearts pursed her lips.

"They are worthy rivals that are deserving of respect," Riddle continued, "and they will continue to push me to excel. That is all I wished to say.

"Now then, we should be on our way. We're running late for a very important date with the teaching staff."

His mother looked as though she had a rebuttal, with her brows knitted and the color of her mouth vanishing. Riddle held his breath—and you weren’t sure if it was safe to take one.

"... We will discuss this at a later time," she declared at last. “We need to stay on schedule.”

Riddle released the air in his lungs, and you took a sharp intake.

Mrs. Rosehearts turned away, tossing an icy farewell to the wind. “Good day to you.”

She led her son down the street, saying something to him in a hushed tone. You couldn’t tell what sort of expression Riddle was making, but he held his head high the entire time, like a defiant rosebud in a bed of snow.

When they had finally disappeared into the horizon, you let yourself smile. He’s come into his own… even if just a little.

[thesunshineriptide]

I got a suggestion for a request.

Headcanons on OB perfect?

Also can't wait for whumptober 🥺

Overblot Prefect

CW// insanity, dissociation, depersonalization, mental breakdown, physical violence, blinding, choking (implied), overblot stuff, spoilers for chapters 1-5 of twisted wonderland

I don’t think it would surprise anyone as to why the Ramshackle prefect would overblot, however I do have a lot of concepts related to them overblotting so I’m gonna list them in sort of order?

After being in virtually every overblot (at least so far, on the English server), not only is the prefect at the end of their goddamn rope, but they’re suffering the long term effects of being hit with magic over and over again

It’s not even just the overblots, either.

On the daily, they’re having magic used on them.

Some benevolent, like Trey using paint the roses to change the taste of something, and sometimes non physical, like Jamil hypnotizing them, but then there’s instances like Azul paralyzing them with a trap, or the twins spitting elemental spells at them over and over.

If energy can’t be created or destroyed, who’s to say that the prefect isn’t simply slowly becoming a ticking timebomb or magical energy?

It starts with them looking exhausted, eye bags deep.

Their hands shake when they go to reach for something.

They’re starving, eating insane amounts and they never seem satisfied.

Their walk has a stagger in their step, like every movement is painful.

More obvious things begin to show.

The way their eyes seem almost black now, their skin taking a paler, greyed out tone.

Their mood shifts, almost more alarming than Floyd’s.

One minute they’re fine, the next they’re asleep, then twenty minutes later they’re raging.

And their moments of anger in themselves are odd.

Sometimes they’ll go from totally fine to screaming at Ace for breaking one of the queen’s rules, or snipping at Deuce for messing up their potionology assignment when in reality he had simply swapped the order of steps.

The prefect becomes obsessed with their looks, to a worrying degree.

And what’s worse is that they’ve taken to lying - or at least everyone thinks it’s lying.

They claim that they were different, that they know things there’s no way that they could.

It gets to the point where most people are genuinely afraid of the prefect. Behind them lurks a darkness that they can’t comprehend, it makes people scatter.

With no magic of their own, what happens when they overblot?

It’s a glitching screen of cosplays.

They look like a shattered mirror, different parts of them looking like different parts of the overblot boys, but wrong.

Behind everything is their face, yes, but they don’t normally have fluffy lion ears or tentacles or snakes for hair.

Their hands aren’t supposed to be clawed, they aren’t supposed to have cards dripping in strands from their waist, they aren’t supposed to look so dead, so pale.

They have no phantom, as they have no magic, instead they themself are both the phantom and the wielder.

You could think of it like shards of each other’s overblot monster trapped inside of Yuu.

The magic that comes out is only the magic they’ve received, but that doesn’t make it any less dangerous.

No, they can’t collar more than one person or turn someone entirely to sand, but that doesn’t stop them from making it count.

Riddle has his own collar used against him. Without him being able to use his unique magic, it creates a terrifying moment for him.

He can’t get it off, and it’s heavy, and it’s weighing him down more than it should, forcing him to lay helplessly on the ground.

It’s Vil’s poison that blinds Jamil, forcing his eyes shut and his throat closed.

He’s close to succumbing to the fog when Azul manages to pull him away and dump water into his eyes to clear away the smoke.

What object was cursed, nobody can tell, the smoke is too thick, but Jamil is still lost.

They can’t give up. This is their own mess, taken out on one person who physically can’t control their actions.

Their mind isn’t their own, their magic isn’t their own, and it seems they don’t even know who they are.

Corrupted by them.

The stolen copy of king’s roar threatens to dry out Azul, cracking his skin painfully.

Drying out is deadly to a merman, even in human form, and Azul knows this.

He can’t help but cower away, calling for a tactical retreat

If only anyone could get away…

In terms of whether someone could win against overblot Yuu, it’s a toss up. Yuu knows everyone’s weakness, even if they don’t use it against them, but they’re also completely out of their mind. Furthermore, they have a warped copy of Azul’s signature spell and Jamil’s hypnotism that they haven’t used.

They can only use each signature spell once, so they have to make it count. But like I said, it isn’t just limited to overblot magic….

What do you guys think? How could someone win against overblot Yuu?

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Peña’s Anatomy — Two

pairing: doctor au!javier peña x resident!reader

chapter rating: E (smut, mentions of gore, talk of surgery, unprotected sex)

word count: <6.1k

authors note: since i’m not a medical professional and only know what greys has taught me, the majority of the information on the cases in this series will be taken from Grey’s Anatomy. i’m also aware it’s not super accurate to real life hospital life!

series masterlist

“Do you want me to beg? Because we both know I’m too good for that.”

Javier was following the chief of surgery through the halls of the hospital, attempting to convince the man to remove you from his service.

“Javi, you’re the best neurosurgeon in this half of the country and you’re begging me to remove a third year resident from your service because…?” The old man stopped at his office door and looked at his protege with a scowl. Javier sighed and shrugged.

“First off, I’m not begging. Too good for that, remember? Secondly, it’s…because she’s not a good fit for neuro. That’s it…that’s…yeah, whatever. Doesn’t matter. All I know is that she’s not the right fit, and I can’t do my job if I have to keep checking in on my residents all fucking day. Send her to cardio or trauma or OB, for fucks sake. Neil seemed to love her when she was on his service.” Javier sounded like a whiny child as he pleaded his case.

“Fine. Send her to the ER. Whatever it takes for you to go away and do your job.” He sighed and opened up the door to his office, Javier smiling and nodding proudly at himself as the Chief shut his door on him.

The past week since realizing his attraction for you had been absolute torture for the man. Everything you did filled him with a teenage-boy like desire. Things he never even realized got him going now made him feel like he couldn’t breathe. The way your hand brushed his in the OR while you handed him forceps, the way you yawned when you stepped out of the on-call room with a big stretch, the kindness and attention you paid to every single human who interacted with you—it all made him feel like he was lit on fire from the inside.

This morning, it all became too much for him to handle. He was standing in the hallway with Jessica, trying to gently convey his disinterest in continuing their sexual relationship when you walked into the hospital with Mickey. It was the first sunny day in a few weeks, the early morning light shining on your face as you laughed at something your friend said. Your hair was up for the first time since he’d met you, and the sight hit him right in the chest, his lips parting and ears tuning out whatever it was that the nurse was trying to say to him.

“Dr. Peña, Jessica.” You nodded at him with a soft half-smile as you passed him, his eyes following you until you disappeared down the hall.

“So what do you say?” Jessica’s hand on his forearm brought his attention back to her, his lips parting as his eyes took in her sultry smirk.

“Huh?”

“I asked if you want to meet me in the on-call room.” She began to look discouraged as Javier opened his mouth to reject her. “What’s with you lately? You’re not fucking me, you’re not fucking any of the other nurses that I know. Are you just not…fucking anybody?”

“It’s been a busy few weeks.” He stood up off the counter he’d been leaning on and knocked on it. “I’ll see you around, Jessica.”

•••

“Did you see him all over Jessica? How dare he? After asking me if you were single? Men.”

“Men.” You agreed with Mickey as the two of you changed into your scrubs. “I still don’t believe he actually asked you that.”

“He did!” She insisted with a chuckle, earning another look of disbelief from you. “Okay, the laugh made it sound like I’m lying, but I promise he did.”

“What exactly was his phrasing? Are you sure he didn’t say it sarcastically, like ‘who would possibly date her’, you know? Was it genuine?” You hated that you even cared to know what his intentions were.

“He just said, ‘Is Lucky seeing anybody?’. Not much tone behind it because he was grumpy, remember?” You tried to hide your blush at the sound of the question you’d been making your friend repeat ever since it was first posed.

You knew there was nothing good that would come from you falling down this rabbit hole of wondering what your attending felt for you, or if he even felt anything, but thanks to your upcoming period, that wasn’t really in your control anymore. Your hormones were spiking thanks to your ovulation, and that meant it was much more difficult to be as level minded as you typically were.

“Are you going to go for it?” Mickey interrupted your hormonal longing, nudging your side. You scoffed once you registered her question, earning a look of amusement from the brunette. “Oh, you’re such a bad liar.”

“I’m not—I haven’t lied. I’m not going to do anything about it because it’s not allowed, remember?”

“Oh, so that’s the only thing stopping you?” She chuckled again as your chief resident paged you both for morning rounds.

“No, it’s not the only thing stopping me. He’s also a whore. He’s probably a walking STD.” You knew that she was buying your disinterest. You weren’t even buying it. “Listen, of course I’ve thought about it. He’s…handsome. And talented. And…have you seen how he is with kids? It’s like he becomes an entirely different man. He’s sweet and caring and…”

Mickey gave you a side eye and a smirk as you realized how much you’d been going on and on about this man you supposedly had no interest in.

“Don’t look at me like that, Mick.” You sighed and hung your head. “I’m not going to do anything about it.”

“About what?” You looked over your shoulder to take in the man in question, surprised by the lack of his typical cocky smirk whenever he talked to you. He looked different, less self-assured, perhaps. His eyes hardly met yours as he joined this morning’s huddle.

“Um, my, uh…”

“Her washer and dryer broke.” Mickey spoke up when you couldn’t, your mind making a mental note to buy her lunch today to thank her.

“Oh? And you’re not going to do anything about that, Lucky?” He chuckled, but even that sounded…off. Not as full of amusement as it normally was. “Sounds like something you should probably do something about.”

“Doctors, is our morning huddle interrupting your conversation?” Your chief resident crossed her arms in front of her chest and glared at all three of you, including Dr. Peña.

“It’s my bad, Dr. Thomas. You know how I like to cause a distraction.” He turned away from you to give her a more sincere smile, the action making you feel a bit slighted for some unknown reason.

“Take your residents and go, Dr. Peña.” She rolled her eyes and smiled at him against her will, his trademark charm working its magic on her.

“Alright, kids. You heard the doctor.” He waved his hand and you joined the few residents who had been assigned to his service as they started to follow him down the hall.

“Where are you going?” You looked down at your arm, Dr. Thomas stopping you with her hand.

“I’m on Dr. Peña’s service?”

“No, you’re in the ER according to the chief.” You watched as Mickey stopped in the hall and gestured for you to come along. You sighed and shrugged your shoulders before locking eyes with Dr. Peña. He looked…guilty? Was that it? “Are you going to just stand there or are you going to go down to the pit like I just told you—”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m going.” You sucked up your feelings and turned around, following the lackies of the surgical program down stairs to the Emergency Department.

•••

Javier felt like absolute shit seeing you standing in that hallway looking so…disappointed. How selfish could he be?

It was clear that you had your heart set on neurosurgery, and contrary to what he told the Chief, you really did have a knack for it. But now you were down in the pit with the duds of the program, tending to broken bones and cuts. It wasn’t fair to you to suffer just because he felt ditzy with attraction anytime he was around you.

It seemed like there was no escaping himself now that you were around. You were making him hyper-aware of his faults and flaws, all while looking like that. It was a strange mix of feelings you stirred in him, and those feelings grew more and more unbearable with each passing day.

He wished there was some part of him that could step up and make a decision—do something about it or leave you alone—but either of the choices sounded equally like a bad idea, just another thing for him to regret.

“Alright, good morning, Mr. Levangie. These are my group of surgical residents, one of them will be assisting me on your case.” Javier sighed and exhaled all his personal problems once he walked his small team of residents into this mornings first patient’s room. He was an old man, his body riddled with constant tremors from his late-stage Parkinson’s disease. “Who’s presenting?”

Mickey watched as the nurses helped the man back into bed while Javier scanned his group of residents. With a clearing of her throat, she raised her hand and stepped forward with the chart, Javier giving her a nod.

“Edward Levangie is a 63 year-old man admitted for pain management for dyskinesia. He’s been stable since last night, and is responding well to the Bolus injections.” She looked up at Javier with an intimidated but knowing look, her blue eyes quickly flickering back down to the chart in her hands.

“Dr. Russel, what are the possible treatments?” Javier asked, turning to Michael, Mickey’s sort-of-hookup and the program’s cockiest surgeon.

“For Parkinson’s, um—“

“Not for Parkinson’s, for spinal pain.” Javier turned his eyes back to your closest friend. “Dr. Brown?”

“Uh, an intraspinal catheter. That way he can have a constant flow of pain medication.” He nodded with an impressed look, turning to his patient.

“This is Dr. Brown, she’s going to be assisting me on your procedure, Mr. Levangie.” Turning to the group of residents, Javier nodded and gestured them out of the room.

“Dr. Peña,” Mickey waited behind to walk beside Javier, his neck already burning as he listened to her tone. She was the only person besides Javier that knew about his little crush, and he hoped to god that she’d just pretend he never said anything about it as she began speaking again. “Why’d you take her off Neuro? She’s the best in the program when it comes to this—“

“Dr. Lucky will be just as lucky down in the pit. Besides, any neuro that comes through will be hers for the taking.” He didn’t look at her as he spoke in an almost whisper, speeding up so that he wouldn’t have to be subject to more of this questioning about the thing he so deeply wanted to stop thinking about.

•••

“What do we have?” Dr. Thomas, the chief resident, was running the show down in the pit when a gunshot wound victim came hauled in on a gurney by paramedics. You’d been tending to tiny wounds and “chest pains” for the past 10 hours of your 36-hour shift, your mind far more tired than your body, but both seemed to perk up at the prospect of finally getting a surgical case.

“Um, Juan Medina, 36 years-old. History of kidney failure and diabetes. Took one GSW to the chest and one to the—to the head?” You looked over at the patient who was bloodied and in and out of consciousness, but was completely responsive and very much alive.

“Page Peña and Mann.” Dr. Thomas ordered one of the surgical interns on the same service as you, the young doctor in training running off to the nurses station. You aided the medics in lifting the patient onto the hospital bed in one of the trauma rooms while your chief resident ordered everyone around. “Lucky, push 5 of morphine.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You walked around to the IV and injected the five milligrams of morphine into the drip. While you were shuffling about and assisting with the patient’s intake, Dr. Peña walked in along with the head of Cardiology, Dr. Mann. You had yet to work on his service or interact with him much, but taking one look at him you began to wonder how many more attractive and relatively young surgeons were at this hospital.

“Dr. Thomas,” Dr. Mann walked up to your chief resident and took over for her as she packed the gun shot wound at the patients chest. “Who’s your intern?”

“Not an intern, third year. This is—“

“Dr. Lucky.” Peña half smiled as your eyes flickered to his, his quickly dropping as he held up his flashlight to the patient’s eyes. “Mr. Medina, can you follow the light for me?”

“Am I going to die?” The man groaned as he blinked, his brain fighting to stay conscious through the injuries.

“We’re going to do everything in our power to keep you alive, Medina.” You chimed in as you watched the attendings work, Dr. Mann flickering his eyes to yours.

“You’re a third year?” He asked as he raised the side railing of the hospital bed, you following suit as you stood across from him, nodding in confirmation. “You ever scrubbed in on heart surgery?”

“N-no, I’ve mostly done OB and Neuro.” He chuckled and shook his head as he began wheeling the man out of the trauma room, Peña pushing from the top of the bed as the three of you plus your team of nurses walked the patient to the elevator.

“Once you get a taste of Cardio, that’s all you’re gonna want.” He winked at you, your cheeks heating up as you looked ahead to the elevator.

“Well, as luck has it, I’m apparently not a ‘good fit’ for Neuro, so…maybe a change would be nice.” Your eyes flickered to Dr. Peña’s, his jaw clenched and eyes locked on you long before you ever turned to him. He shook his head in the slightest of ways, so slight that anyone not blatantly staring may have missed it, his eyes rolling.

“Well, Dr. Peña, looks like you just lost a fellowship candidate.” Dr. Mann shot his fellow attending a cocky smirk, Javier’s eyes pointed and jaw clenched so tight you began to wonder if his teeth were in danger.

“How about we focus on saving the patient rather than recruitment, Dr. Mann?” The tone Dr. Peña used both stirred you and scared you, your eyes quickly turning to check the patients vital signs just so that you wouldn’t get scolded as well.

•••

Once you get a taste of Cardio, that’s all you’re gonna want…Looks like you just lost a fellowship candidate…

Javier knew his fellow attending much too well at this point to think that he was just offering his mentor services to you. But you seemed to be at least somewhat oblivious to his advances, which eased his jealousy a bit. Still, the last thing Javier needed was a fellow attending—a fellow department head—to come around and break all the rules Javier was so desperately trying to remind himself he had to keep.

The three of them stood at the sink basins in the scrub room, each of them using their soap to scrub away at their hands and arms while the OR nurses prepped and dressed the patient. Dr. Mann was the first to leave, going inside with his hands held up in the air until his team of nurses could gown and glove him.

Javier turned to you as you scrubbed away at you fingernails, his eyes wandering down your forearms to your delicate fingers, your nails painted candy apple red. He found himself imagining what your hands would look like sliding down his chest to the waistline of his scrubs, taking the time to untie them or simply ripping them off so that you could get to where he needed you most.

“Do you have a problem with me, Dr. Peña?” Your sudden words and sharp tone tore him away from his lustful daydream. His eyes widened a bit in surprise and lips parted just the slightest as he took in your anger? Sadness? No, disappointment. That’s what it was.

“Wha—“

“You bully me like a little kid, give me a stupid nickname that now everyone uses, then you kick me off your fucking service because I’m not a good fit? I carried your fucking service the entire time I was on it while everyone else struggled to even intubate for fucks sake.” Javier noticed your self-control, your volume kept at a low and calm level but your words contradicting it. His lips parted further to speak, head slightly shaking in cluelessness as he studied your frustrated resolve.

“You think the nickname I gave you is stupid?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew that he should have said literally anything else. You scoffed and shook off the excess water on your arms, ignoring his eyes as you walked behind him to step into the OR. Javier’s eyes closed in frustration as he watched you through the mirror, Dr. Mann’s eyes locked on you as well.

“Fuck this.” He grumbled and rinsed off his arms, joining the two of you in the operating room rather than watching from the sidelines.

“Peña, finally joining us.” Mann called out as Javier got gowned and gloved, his scrub nurse placing his headlamp and magnified glasses over his scrub cap before he could walk over to the patient. “I was just telling Dr. Lucky about my first time…in heart surgery, of course.”

“Lucky her. Scalpel.” He replied blandly, holding his hand out as he got to work. He hoped the adrenaline of surgery would help to drown out his colleague’s flirting, but a part of him knew that was wishful thinking.

•••

“Dr. Lucky, it appears your magic is wearing off on our patient. The bullet missed all of his vital organs. Heart looks good, lungs look good. Just gotta find the bullet and extract it.” You looked further into the chest where Dr. Mann had his fingers buried for the last two hours, the light on his headlamp shining on a bit of metal. “There it is. Forceps.”

“I gotta say,” you watched as the doctor smiled behind his mask and held up the bloodied bullet. “Cardio is nice, but nothing beats looking at the human brain.”

“Oh? Still a nonbeliever? Perhaps I pegged you wrong, doctor.” He dropped the forceps in a metal pan along with the bullet.

“It depends on what you pegged me for.” You shrugged, trying your best not to flirt with the doctor, but he was making it a task with his tone and masked grin.

“Pegged you for someone who liked to have fun. A little fiery. Passionate, perhaps.” He winked at you as he worked on closing the patients chest. Your eyes flickered over to Peña’s for some reason, but he was locked in on his work.

It started to happen again, that attraction to his focus and skill. The cardio-thoracic surgeon in front of you was no doubt good at his job, but he was cocky and talkative—two things that always turned you off in a man. But Dr. Javier Peña was quiet, a bit brooding, perhaps, when he was in the OR. His eyes were laser focused on his work, the high stakes of his field adding onto how impressive he was.

You only wished that he wasn’t a complete asshole to you. Then maybe…

No. The lustful and far too hopeful fantasies had to end. You desperately needed to quit imagining him taking you in some on-call room out of sheer passion and ruining you for all men—the fantasy that had been your favorite as of lately.

“Alright, Dr. Lucky. Looks like we’re done here.” He sewed the last suture and set down his instruments in a metal tray, backing away from the table and tearing off his gown and gloves. You remained by the patient, eyes flickering to Dr. Peña. “Oh, are you going to stay to watch Dr. Peña finish up?”

“If that’s not a problem, sir.” He shrugged and gestured at the neurosurgeon.

“Up to the surgeon. I’m going to go up to the, uh, on call room. Get some rest.” He winked at you again before leaving to scrub out. You breathed in at the pompous proposition, turning your eyes to Peña’s.

“C-could I stay? To watch?” You stepped over to the bin to discard your gown and gloves now that the surgery part of your OR experience was over.

“You can watch from the gallery,” he ended his sentence by using your actual last name rather than his nickname for you, the sound of it making your heart constrict in a way you hadn’t expected.

“I’ll stay out of the way, I just want to be able to see the retrieval process up close—“

“From the gallery, doctor. This is my OR and I decide who stays and goes.” He snapped, lifting his eyes to yours finally, the brown having changed to an unmistakeable black that had you sick to the stomach with intimidation.

“Yes, sir.” You sighed and walked into the scrub room, scrubbing out and fighting back tears as you replayed his tone over and over in your head. It was clear the doctor had it out for you, and if there was any doubt in your mind whether his question about your relationship status was a joke or not, it was now gone.

•••

A few hours after you’d left, Javier finally finished closing the patients skull. He noticed early on that you never went up to the gallery to watch, and he didn’t blame you. He was much too harsh when he told you to leave the OR, but after hearing your obvious flirting with his colleague, he didn’t want to be in your presence a second longer.

That feeling was long gone now.

“Hey…have you seen Lucky?” He approached Mickey as she sat in the cafeteria eating her lunch alone.

“I think she’s napping in the one of the on call rooms.” She replied in a curious tone, Peña nodding and walking away without another word.

His blood boiled and mind raced with images of walking in on you with Dr. Mann, though that surely couldn’t still be happening three hours after your departure from the OR…right?

He whipped open the first on call room with a glare, only to be met by two sleeping nurses he’d slept with before. He quickly closed it before continuing down the hall to the next, whipping it open again and finding Dr. Mann passed out and…alone.

Javier breathed a breath of relief at the sight and closed the door with a loud slam, smirking as he walked down the hall to the final on call room, this time gently cracking it open and seeing your sleeping form curled up on the stiff bunk bed mattress. His lips curled into a soft smile as he stepped inside, shutting the door and locking it behind him just for good measure. Even if the two of you were just going to have a talk, he didn’t want any interruptions.

With a soft but firm voice, he called your name, standing by the door as to not scare you with too much of his presence. He watched your eyes slowly peel open and your head lift from the pillow, groggily taking him in.

“Dr. Peña? I’m on my lunch now, so if you need anything—“

“No, I don’t need…well, I don’t need anything like that.” He chuckled and stepped closer, sitting on the foot of the bed as your eyes fully opened, your mind now aware of the intensity of his presence. Javier knew he looked like a nervous teenager as he turned to you, his lips parting at the sight of you so wide eyed with confusion. “I-I just wanted to tell you why I took you off my service. You deserve to know why, Lucky.”

“Yes, I do.” You nodded and crossed your arms over your chest. Javier wanted to grin at the sight of you attempting to look stern, but knew that wouldn’t be productive.

“I-uh, I asked the chief to take you off, not because I think you’re a bad fit—you’re a great fit, actually. And I’m going to go tell him that after I finish talking to you.”

“So what’s the reason then?” You snapped, your earlier irritation at the man fully returning.

“The reason I didn’t want you around is because…” Javier had never been this nervous to talk to a woman before, and it made him feel sick with anxiety. “Because I guess I have some sort of…attraction to you. It’s stupid, and it was a selfish abuse of power and I’m going to fix it because you don’t deserve that kind of career interference just because I blush everytime you’re around.”

•••

You were absolutely stunned by what you were hearing. It felt like a lucid dream, Peña here in front of you confessing his crush on you? It had to be a dream.

“You’re attracted to me?” You chuckled in disbelief, watching as his face fell a bit at the sound of your amusement. “I’m not a nurse. You know that right?”

“Funny.” He rolled his eyes and stood up, pacing around the room with his hand on his jaw.

“Dr. Peña, are you—“

“Javier. Just call me Javier.” He stopped his pacing and looked down at you with lust blown pupils and a frustrated frown. You sucked in a small and almost unnoticeable gasp at the intensity of his stare, your limbs trembling with nerves as you lifted yourself out of the bunk and onto your feet in front of him. Your mind sounded the “this is a bad idea” alarm as you reached to touch his chest, the firmness not at all surprising. Javier scooped your chin up with his finger, eyes locked on your lips. With a subtle nod, he leaned down, pressing his pout to yours in a soft and testing peck. “Are you sure about this, Lucky?”

“Are you?” You asked as your hands slid up his neck and laced into his dark brown locks, forcing him down against your lips in a more heated kiss. He groaned at the action, his arms wrapping around your waist tightly before his hands started to wander. When he gripped the swell of your ass in his palms, you moaned into the kiss, earning a bite to your lips. “Javier…we can’t let anyone find out about this if we…you know. I don’t want to be looked at like one of your conquests. I’m a surgeon and—“

“You’re not a conquest, this is…you’re more than that.” He breathed against your lips and rested his forehead against yours, your head nodding against his as a silent demand for him not to elaborate any further.

You didn’t need to know what sort of feelings this man had for you because this was a one-off fling. A moment of passion and weakness. It wasn’t going to become some…relationship. It couldn’t.

•••

Javier’s breath hitched as he watched your hands slide down his chest just like he’d been fantasizing about earlier, your red-painted fingernails catching his eye as you took your time in untying his scrub pants.

When he realized he was standing there frozen, he reached for his top, peeling it off his body and tossing it on the mattress while you shucked his pants off. He kicked his shoes to the side and stepped out of his scrubs, letting them pool on the ground as he reached for the hem of your top, peeling it off and letting it lay on the floor with his clothes.

“This is a one time thing,” you breathed out as his lips found your neck, his hands untying your pants and letting them fall to the ground before laying you down on the bunk bed.

“Sure.” He couldn’t be bothered to think about the future of your romance with you underneath him like this, your lips pressing against his collarbone and shoulder as he licked at your pulse. Your hands slid his briefs down just enough to release him, pumping him in your hand as you used your other to slide your underwear to the side, running the bulbous head of his cock up and down your wetness. Javier shivered at the rushed need the two of you shared, desperate to just get right to it due to the time constraint. “Do you have a condom?”

“No,” you spoke breathlessly, looking at him with a look of concern before you started to chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” He chuckled along with you.

“We’re doctors. In a hospital. And I’m considering letting you fuck me raw just because I want you that badly right now.” You chuckled again but this time he didn’t reciprocate, his pupils blowing out with lust again as he listened to your words.

“When’s the last time you got tested?” He asked in a whisper, eyes searching yours.

“When I moved here. There hasn’t been anyone…w-what about you?” His cock twitched as you bit your lip, his mind struggling to string together a coherent response.

“Get tested every month. Clean.” He watched as your lips curled up in a mischievous grin, a moan falling from his lips as you lined his tip up with your entrance, guiding him inside. “Fuck. You feel so fucking…so good.”

His eyes never left your face, watching as your eyelids fluttered closed and brows laced together, a soft moan spilling from your kiss-bitten lips once he became fully seated inside of you. Though he was typically proud of his endurance, he knew this wouldn’t be one of the more impressive times. You felt too good.

“You ready?” He asked you, as he began to draw his thick length out, your eyes opening and head quickly nodding in response. Javier felt his entire body cover with chills as he withdrew himself completely before pressing back into you, steady deep and slow strokes following the initial thrust. With each stroke you grew wetter and more open for him, swallowing him as he punched up towards your spongey ceiling.

“Fuck, Javier,” you panted out below him in a whisper, swallowing the moans he could tell you actually wanted to scream. “Now I know why all the nurses are okay with sharing you. You feel so good.”

“Bebita, need you to touch yourself. Help me make you cum,” he purred in your ear as his head dropped into the nook of your neck. He hummed as you used one hand to snake between your bodies, feeling you circling your swelling clit, the other cradling his head and scratching his scalp. His hands held the back of your thighs, pressing them wide and towards your chest as he languidly slid in and out of you.

•••

Your body felt like it was on a different plane of reality as his cock slid so fucking slowly in and out of your heat, rubbing against every single good nerve inside of your canal like it was put on earth just to please. Your hand tugged on his hair to pull his head back, your eyes locking as you felt your high begin to crescendo.

“You there, bebita? I can feel it. So fucking wet. Squeezing me…I can’t take it.” His brows laced together and you came undone from the sound of the strangled moan that fell from his lips after his words. You struggled to keep your eyes open to watch him as your orgasm hit you hard, your entire body floating through the seas of euphoria like it never had before.

A whine slipped from your lips as you felt him slide out of you and rest the weight of his cock on your belly, hot ropes of his cum coating your skin. You lifted your head off the pillow to watch the sight, your walls clenching in an aftershock of desire as you took in the wet head of his almost purple cock.

“Fuck, bebita. I don’t know if I can take this being a one time thing. Now that I know how good you feel, I’m only gonna want you.”

“Easy to say as an attending,” you joked as you pushed him off you lightly, sitting up and walking over to the en-suite bathroom. You could hear him talking about how he would’ve gotten up and done that for you if you’d given him a second, but you really weren’t paying that much attention. You were already too busy thinking about how absolutely fucked you were now.

The foundation of your ability to not fall for his charm was that you imagined him as being unlovable, no good, and probably shit in bed. Now, at least two of those things were proven wrong.

•••

When Javier stepped behind you in the bathroom, he caught your eyes through the mirror, both of your bodies mostly bare but neither set of eyes drifting lower. With a sinking feeling in his stomach at your sudden distanced demeanor, he began to speak.

“If you regret it, that’s fine. We won’t talk about it. But if you don’t—“

“Let’s just not talk about it.” Your interruption took him by surprise.

Never in all of his womanizing days had he experienced this. You were completely unphased by his skill in bed. He struggled to understand how you could be so casual about what just happened when it was almost life changing for him. You’d just shown him what it was like to fuck someone he had feelings for, and now there was no going back for him. He could never mindlessly hookup with a nurse now that he knew what it was like to make love with you.

“You really want this to be just a one time thing?” He asked, not caring about the hurt in his tone. Though you hesitated for a moment, you soon nodded, your eyes dropping their contact through the mirror as you turned to walk past him out of the bathroom. He ticked his jaw to the side as he followed you, getting dressed alongside you in tense silence. “Can I ask why?”

“Why? Because I’m a resident, Dr. Peña. I still have something to prove, and if Thomas or the Chief get a whiff of something happening between us, I get kicked out of the program. My career would be over before it even started.” He felt his chest pang with sympathy for your situation, also feeling guilty for putting you in the position to deal with this in the first place. “That was great, it really was, but…nothing’s worth risking my career for. I’m sorry if that makes you hate me and you take me off your service—“

“What? No,” he shook his head and stepped closer to you, reaching to grab your shoulders. He quickly removed them when he saw your eyes turn to check out the contact. “I’m not going to punish you because you’re choosing your career. It makes me more proud to have a surgeon like you on my team, actually. You don’t have to worry about that.”

•••

“You know, you’re a lot harder to hate once a person gets to know you.” You gave him a half-smile, making the corner of his mouth turn up as well. “I promise this will stay between us.”

“Me too.” He looked down at his pager as it began to beep, cursing as he read it. “911 to the GSW patient. Come on, Lucky. Looks like we’ve got more work to do.”

“You’re keeping me on his case?” You watched as he poked his head into the hallway, checking for it to be clear before he gestured for you to follow him out.

“Thought you wanted to be back on neuro?” He shot you a smile and a wink over his shoulder as the two of you jogged through the halls to the ICU, a blush sweeping over your cheeks at the sight.

Perhaps he was Dr. Daddy after all.

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[sashi-ya]

𝑥𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡; 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡, ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑦 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡. 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬, 𝐈 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ⋆˙⊹ trafalgar law x afab! reader. nsfw

request: @ottersdeservelove asked: ONG last Christmas I gave you my heart, trafalgar law x AFAB!reader, it's just perfect for him. ahh maybe yandere-esque and nsfw, please? 👉👈 | tw: nsfw. sex with a "stranger". masturbation. nipple work. vaginal. spanking | wc: 2.4k | masterlist | taglist: @zella07 @jin-supremacy01 @alexkanroji @jenwooly @owlham|

Doctor Heart Stealer has given his own heart once. Once. And never again. He swore that he would never again. Last year, Christmas morning become the saddest morning. She was gone, and in those cold sheets he asked himself why a man like him was bound to remain alone…

“No more love for me, it’s over” he said, deciding he was going to cover the shift on Christmas night. And so, as the date was finally here he picked up his keys and drove to his workplace; Heart’s Hospital.

As his icy grey scan the red and green decorated hallways of the ER, he dedicates subtle smiles at his co-workers. Nothing too sweet, that’s not how he is.

“Welcome Dr. Trafalgar! So far everything seems cal-“ one of the residents chimes, getting cut short by his companions. How dare her mention the word “calm” in an ER on a winter snowy night, specifically Christmas?

“Hello. Good. I’ll be on the office reading the medical records of the patients, call me whenever you need me” he mumbles, taking a sip of his hot chocolate (that everybody thinks it’s black coffee…)

As he takes an intense look at the papers in front of him, he can’t forget how last year on this same day he was happily waiting for her in his car. The way her smile shone with the warm fairy lights adorning the streets… and how she was actually married too.

Law shakes his black hair to ease the memories from coming back to hurt him, but the truth is that since that day where his heart broke into pieces he promised himself not to -ever- get excited for any other woman in his life.

“Dr. Trafalgar!! We have an emergency!” his coworkers hit -don’t knock- the door to announce him he needs to get ready.

“Great, the first one… I wonder which one is… the slippery street victim, or the family reunion fight hurt one…” Law grunts, putting the white coat over his grey scrubs and getting out of his office.

While he waits with his gloves on, and the paramedics bring his first patient in, through the big doors of the E.R., his eyes widen. As if destiny was determined to make him suffer, his patient was no other than the same person that made his last Christmas the worst so far.

Her, your friend. Holds your hand, squeezing it harder. Her belly about to pop, her baby about to born. And you, right by her side could only trust in the handsome doctor before your eyes.

“You… are… call the ob service” Law commands, ignoring how well he knew her. You, who aren’t stupid immediately understand something was off…

In between the piercing screams of a woman in labour you try to give the man dressed in medical attire as much information as possible. “Doctor, her water broke less than an hour ago. She said the baby is coming. Please help her!” you plead.

“Don’t worry. She will be fine. The baby will be fine too. Please wait us outside, I will keep you updated… miss…?” he says, asking your name before closing the curtains to assist the labour.

“Miss (name)… thank you sir…”

Not much of an hour later, after you have probably bitten off all your nails, he comes out of your friend’s cubicle. He seems pleased, nothing could make him act less professional than always. As he comes closer, and your belly feels fancy, you stand up.

His subtle smile lets you know that everything is ok, but you wait for his words either way.

“So, Miss (Name)-ya. Your friend is safe. The baby girl is healthy, however she will need some days in neo to check everything is ok with her” he informs you, placing his tattooed hand on your shoulder. Even if Law has done an excellent job bringing a baby into this world, his eyes don’t shine… he has just received the son of a man that’s been cheated on with no other than himself.

“Thank you so much, doctor…” you whisper, a little stunned by his beauty. You watch him nod and walk into his office, leaving you there enchanted by his aura… “bet he is sad because he is all alone working on this holy night…”

You spend what’s left for the night next to your friend, making company to her and waiting for the baby’s father who seemed too entertained with Christmas celebrations to arrive on time. And, while she finally fell asleep you have an idea. The memory of the icy stare of her doctor won’t abandon your mind, you thought since it was Christmas perhaps you could do something to make him feel better during his shift.

There is, however, not much you could do. The cafeteria is already closed, and the lights of the non-urgent services have been already turned off. The vending machines at the end of the hall would do.

A few chocolates and a can of coffee is what you buy for him and a little nervously you walk towards his office. “Dr. Trafalgar? It’s me, Miss (name)” you announce yourself after knocking at the door. You wait a few minutes outside, and just when you believed he wasn’t there the latch moves.

“Yes? Is everything alright?” he asks, with subtle hints of a crying face. “Ye-yes, doctor. I hope I’m not bothering you, but I thought I could bring you something to eat and drink as a Christmas gift but mainly for helping my friend and my nephew” you tell him, showing the cans and sweets in your hands.

Law swallows, and his frown intensifies. He takes some minutes to ponder the idea of letting a woman closer, but ultimately he decides you seem harmless to his icy heart. “thank you so much, would you like to come in?” he asks, since he is sure you are there to share the meal with him -even if you weren’t that sure of it, but who would say no, right?-

You smile and walk inside his office. There isn’t much. His coat hanged on the backrest of his chair, his desk covered in paperwork and two picture frames on each corner of it.

He invites you to sit down, while clearing the desk. You do it in silence, placing the cans and the chocolate right after. You take a look at the pictures, a happy family of doctors and a little boy with tired eyes and a fancy hat. On the other one, a man, as tall as a tree with a lovely smile, holding the same kid closely. Who are those people? Is that kid him?

When Law finally sits down, he scans you up and down. He opens both coffee cans and your fingers graze whenever he passes the beverage to you. What a weird sensation, a mix in between electricity and butterflies kisses… your cheeks burn.

“Thank you” he mumbles, before taking a sip. “So, since your friend’s husband finally arrived why don’t you go back home and celebrate Christmas?” he asks, kindly. In any case it felt like he was trying to fleet you off.

“I- I actually don’t really have anywhere to spend Christmas but my friend’s house. So, I guess it’s the same” you confess, toying with the chocolate wrapping paper.

Law falls back, drinking the last drops of coffee with his head back. “Well, I guess then you don’t have any intentions of giving anyone your heart tonight” he sighs.

You blink several times and soon you remember the song “Last Christmas”. Giggling you catch his attention. “You sound like you did give your heart last Christmas” you joke, well aware that man has nothing to do with romantic, movie like experiences. But you are wrong.

“Well, yes. I did. And apparently, destiny keeps making me feel like shit. But, it doesn’t matter anymore” he whispers, taking a bite of the last chocolate. It’s impossible to think someone like him could have had his heart broken, but apparently it’s the case.

“I hope you have a new memory from Christmas night from now on. You brought a child into this world” you try to cheer him up.

“And I got chocolate and coffee for free from a pretty lady” he jokes, making your cheeks go even hotter… but what it makes you jolt is the fact that his hand falls on yours. “Would you like me to take you home? My shift will be over in less than an hour”.

You simply nod, smiling softly with fluttery eyelashes that could kill a man. “I will go grab my stuff and salute my friends…”

How did it happen? How did you get into an ambulance on Christmas eve, and now, a caramel skin, tattooed, handsome doctor is driving you home?

And when Law’s BMW stops right by your home you ponder whether you should invite him inside or not… even if your lips move on your own. “Dr. Trafalgar… would you like to have some hot chocolate?”

The cold night that in winter lasts almost forever is about to finish, but no tired eyes nor exhausted muscles could make him say no… because the song does tell about how last Christmas he gave his heart to someone who doesn’t deserved it, but also tells about how this year someone special will receive it…

“Sure, I prefer hot chocolate better than coffee” he mumbles, already opening the door of his car and getting out to open your side. Law extents his inked hand; a hand you grab immediately.

You try to conceal the way your hand trembles when using your key… after all, he was a total stranger… was he really? Or his face reminds of the man with who your friend left last year’s Christmas party?

As soon as both get inside, and the snow has been shaken off your boots, you invite him to wait on your living room. He gets comfortable on your couch, and while you prepare the hot chocolate you can’t avoid taking quick peaks from the kitchen.

He is using his phone, and while he reads something he brush his spiky onyx hair back. He is really hot, really, really hot.

“Marshmallows?” you ask, surprising him all of a sudden with a tray and two cups of hot cocoa. “If they are as sweet as you, sure (Name)-ya” he says, flirting so blatantly that makes you laugh while sitting next to him.

But he wasn’t joking… not at all. And when some little trace of foamy milk remains on your cupids bow, Law takes thumb to clean it up. “You are truly sweet…” the doctor says, licking his finger clean so close to you it makes your breathing accelerate.

“Th- thank- you…” you stutter, able to see every little shade of grey in his irises from how close he is to you. “You are welcome…” he whispers, before both of your lips join in a soft, so subtle peck. Maybe it is too fast, maybe it is even crazy. But from halves, wholes are born. And those halves were lonely enough tonight…

As fast as you can actually recall, your hips straddle on his lap and his hands surround your frame. Kisses that deepen and intensify leads both to get rid of your coverings. The cold is not a problem, as the orangey glow of the fireplace keeps you both warm.

Law’s skilful hands untie your bra, freeing your breasts for his enjoyment. His lips, surrounding your nipples make you throw your head back and arch your spine. He holds you as he gradually goes further with his sucking motions, and the hardness underneath your core grows bigger.

What it looked like a calmed and soft doctor, ends up showing you that we cannot see the whole imagine up until you know them fully; Law is becoming feral with your body, and you are in total heaven.

The doctor you met tonight slides his hand down your pants, reaching for your wet core while you hold yourself on the backrest of your couch and his tongue keeps playing with your hardened nipples.

Law knows exactly where and how to touch; his thumb applies the perfect amount of pressure in between your labia, and the circle motions make you moan. You bury your nose into the crown of his head, inhaling the soft scent of his masculine shampoo mixed with the sterile smell of hospitals.

By looking at your raptured face squirming because of his touch, he gets harder, a lot harder. He gets so needy; he wants to bury himself inside you. And just whenever he is satisfied with how your inner thighs begin to tremble as climax is about to hit you, he is ready to give you more… a lot more.

“Stand up, please. Get on all fours” he commands, with a low raspy voice, tinted in desire that cannot be controlled any longer.

You comply, still panting. Your knees bury in the cushions of your sofa, and your forearms rest on the backrest. Law’s hands pull down your trousers and panties. He takes a brief moment to enjoy the view of your wiggling entrance, dripping and so ready to receive him.

Law gets tempted to spank your glutes softly, and he does. The sudden punishment makes you whine, and that same sound is followed by the one his zipper does when it goes down. He does not wait a single second more, and just like he freed his sex he begins to guide it towards your entrance.

However, he doesn’t penetrate you instantly. He enjoys how his already hard and drippy tip gets coated by the abundant wetness of your sex. His hardness rubs against your labia, and then in between your folds but never really inside. He teases just enough to make you move your hips back in unconscious attempts of feeling him invading your cave.

“And you were so sweet… but now you are asking for more…(Name)-ya” he moans, making you tremble. His reflection on the window behind the couch makes you even weaker. His well-trained abdomen, the tattoos that completely cover his caramel skin, his expression while he bites his lower lip…

“Dr. Trafalgar please… fuck me…” you beg, looking back at him with eyes of lust.

“I couldn’t say no to such a sweet face, (Name)-ya” he scoffs, smirking with sloppy eyelids until he rams sudden, violent, and unexpectedly into you. “It should have been you, not your friend… the one I took home last year”

“I’ve always knew it, Law… fuck me rough…”