#GOD this is nerve wracking

[ellivenollivander]

So, your healer!sebastian post really got me thinking. If you want to, would you maybe write something about seb as a healer working somewhere, he had lost touch with MC, but she comes in gravely injured one day. He saves her and they reconnect?

@skittish1807 Thank you for your patience, I know it has been way too long since you requested this. I love you and your endless patience, pal. Special shoutout to cold brew, sweet tea and ambient world on youtube for helping me finally finish this fic. Rating: 18+ (Mildly NSFW for insinuations) TW: Blood, Injury, Death Mention. Word Count: 8,635 (I know, i'm sorry.) A/N: This is my first Sebastian Fic, please be kind lol

Reconciliation

Sebastian didn’t know exactly how things ended up the way that they did with MC, he just knows that sometimes in the quiet moments of his now hectic life, when he’s left alone with his thoughts, she creeps in from the recesses of his mind.

He can hear her voice when he’s working in the Alchemy room at St. Mungos, criticizing the technique he uses to prepare his ingredients. The hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he stands alone in the dark room, dropping his sliced dittany into the bubbling cauldron. Wouldn’t you prefer chopped? It brews so much more quickly. 

When he’s blowing off steam in the cellar of his home, taking out his anger of losing a patient on the training dummy he paid off an Auror for. He can feel her fingers wrapping around his wrist, adjusting his aim or her hand on his hip, correcting his stance. 

The soft morning light brings him the smell of her shampoo, from the nights she’d slept in his bed. After long, late nights of studying and searching for anything, tucked behind his closed bed curtains. She’d claim the walk back to her dorm was much too far and crawl between the covers, enveloping him with the scent of her. He would wake up and she would be gone, but the smell of her shampoo would reside on his pillow, proof of her presence. 

None of these soft memories made him feel like he did now, lying on a cot in the room designated for Healers to catch up on their sleep during their long shifts at St. Mungos. Sebastian rarely slept, but he tried. He had found an old daily prophet, shoved beneath the pillow, undoubtedly left by one of his fellow healers and decided to try and bore himself to sleep with whatever mess the Wizarding World had found themselves in today. 

He found the classifieds, black ink advertising Cruppies - Free to a good home! and Stay Warm with BOGO Self Warming Scarves and Gloves at Twilfitt and Tattings!, as his eyes moved from advertisements to job listings. The memory of how he and MC had spent many of their meal times at Hogwarts hunched over the same paper, talking animatedly about what they could possibly do with their lives after graduation, made his heart constrict. 

If he lets himself think about it, her, too much he finds himself spiraling. Desperate to find her, desperate to make things right. Despite being an orphan, and no longer having any family to speak of, he thinks the pain of losing the girl he was in love with for three years of his life might hurt worse. 

The knowledge that she was alive and well, and just not here with him, a fate worse than death. 

There was nothing he could do about his parents or Anne or even Solomon, they were gone. Never to return. Sebastian wonders if the pain hurts worse, because it was exacerbated by hope that they could be together again. That she’d come back to him. 

Which is why he pitches the newspaper against the wall opposite, before punching the tattered pillow he’s shoving his face into, silently pleading for sleep to take him. His attempts only last about ten minutes, before the loudspeaker above the door alerts him to an incoming patient, being transported to the Potions and Poisoning ward.

He heaves himself from the bed with a groan, stretching out his tired limbs and makes his way to the third floor, taking the stairs two at a time. He pauses for just a moment, when he arrives at the patient's room. His eyes watching the brass plaque alongside the door frame materializing with his name, a sentimental pride filling him at the sight. 

Healer in Charge: Sebastian Sallow

It had been five years since he’d graduated from Hogwarts, three since he completed the Healer training program. His career choice had been heavily influenced by the desire to feel like he was doing some good in the world, healing instead of hurting. The hefty knowledge he already possessed in his fruitless search for a cure for his ailing sister had just been a benefit, aiding him along in the program, impressing his instructors. 

He didn’t pause long enough to think about how it had been five years since he had seen her.

Sebastian pushes open the door, the clipboard instantly pulling itself from the wall and into his hands, greeting his patient with a small smile, his eyes on the clipboard.

“Hello, I’m Healer Sallow, I’ll be getting you sorted out today. What seems to be the problem?” 

He studies the intake form quickly as he speaks. 

Casper Doolan. Age 9. Potions Accident. 

Sebastian’s demeanor shifts slightly when he sees the age of the boy and he relaxes his shoulders, plasters on a smile as he finally takes a look at the patient; A freckled blonde boy, who seemed to be sprouting leaves across his body, sat cross legged on the bed looking as though he had not a care in the world. His parents standing behind him, looking much more distraught, and a teen girl red faced and teary eyed. 

Sebastian lets his hand drop the clipboard, which slots itself right back into place on the wall, and he steps closer to the family. 

“Hey pal, Casper right? I’m Sebastian. I’m going to get you all fixed up. Alright? Mind if I take a closer look?”

When the boy shrugs his shoulders, he gently lifts the boy's chin to get a better look at the foliage protruding from his face, keeping a small smile on his face. “Mind telling me what happened?” He directs the question to the adults standing above him, as he’s leant down examining Casper.

The clipboard comes back from the wall, levitating in the air and the quill begins recording the words of the Doolans’ recollection of the events of the day. Their daughter had been practicing her potion brewing when Casper had been overcome with curiosity, and had taken a swig from her concoction. An hour later they had been sitting in the St. Mungo’s waiting area when no antidote or healing charm rectified the effects. 

Sebastian let out a puff of air, nodding along to the story. 

“Can’t say it’s the first time, and I know it will not be the last. Are you in any pain, Casper? Does it hurt? Be honest, no being brave. It’s important that I know.” 

Little Casper shakes his head, relaying that it just feels funny. Sebastian gives him another wide grin, before turning towards the older sister.

“Can I ask what you were trying to brew?” 

She tenses under Sebastian’s gaze, and he realizes he sounds a bit more accusatory then he had meant too and he clears his throat, holding his hands up. “I just need to know to help your brother… I’m not upset. This really does happen all of the time. Our little patients are notorious potion drinkers.” He smiles back down at Casper who blushes a bit at the comment. “He’s going to be just fine.” 

She relaxes, her blush unfading. 

“I…uh, I was working on a fertilizer… for herbology, it’s my worst subject in school… It was never meant to be drunk.” She shoots her own accusatory glare in her little brother's direction, and Sebastian has to bite back a laugh. 

“Did you follow a recipe or were you just experimenting?”

The quill was poised to take down the information beside his head, his mind already moving in a million different directions on how to move forward with Casper’s treatment based on the information he was being given. 

“O-of course I followed a recipe. It was the standard recipe for dragon dung fertilizer…” 

At the words dragon dung, Casper’s face blanched at the realization of what he had consumed. He whipped around to face his sister, cheeks red with fury, the leaves in his skin shaking violently. Before he could start screaming at his sister, Sebastian spoke calmly, questioning if she had substituted any ingredients from the standard recipe. The scratch of the quill near his ear, oddly calming. 

“No, I stayed true to the recipe but I hadn't added the mandrake yet, it was still stewing when pea brain here decided to take a swig.”  

The quill continued recording and Sebastian nodded along appropriately, unable to keep back the playful grin at the name calling between siblings, his heart twinging in grief for just a moment. 

“Good news is I think he’ll be just fine. Just have to allow the brew to run its course, I’d say. Let it pass through his system. Could give him a tonic to help it along but since he’s not experiencing any discomfort and he seems to be in good spirits, I’d hardly say that’s necessary.” 

At the cheery diagnosis, the tension in the room seemed to immediately dissipate and the Doolan patriarch smacked Casper upside the head. As if he had been lying in wait to be told his son was indeed not dying, before he chastised him. 

Sebastian bid the family goodbye, with a comment on lessons learned and to please come back if Caspers condition seemed to worsen in any way. Though before he left, he shook Casper’s hand like a man and slipped a candy into his palm. Before taking his leave with a small playful wink in the boy's direction. 

The remaining hours of his shift included a disgruntled Auror who had been stuck feeling the effects of a tickling charm for a week, an elderly woman who had mistaken a Jarvey for a stray cat in her garden and suffered a particularly nasty attack and finally, another Hogwarts student who had botched a polyjuice potion and had found himself stuck between looking like himself and his next door neighbor. 

Sebastian finally stood outside of St. Mungos in the summer rain, exhausted and desperate for a drink. He made his way to Undercroft, in hopes of finding some pretty little witch to help him forget the one everything in his life reminded him of. 

If only for a night. 

~*~

He had, and she did. 

Though the only evidence of her presence in his home was the tiny bit of parchment she left on the pillow beside his head. 

The pub had been lively, as usual. A popular spot for the younger wizarding demographic. Those that were out of school but not quite ready to hang up their hats and reminisce on their youth. 

Sebastian had slid into his stool at the end of the bar, tucked into the corner. A whiskey sliding into his hand before he could even greet the barkeep, his best friend. 

Ominis had purchased the building and opened his pub shortly after graduation, with the money left to him from his Aunt Noctua. He had been the sole heir to her estate, something he had only discovered on his seventeenth birthday in their seventh year. A ministry official knocking on the boys’ door in Feldcroft, bearing keys and paperwork. 

He and Sebastian had spent an entire night drinking and laughing on the floor of the empty building, brainstorming names until they finally decided on Undercroft. An ode to their schooldays, to their little shelter in the storm of their youth. Hoping the name would inspire Ominis’ pub to be a similar sort of sanctuary for others. A place to unwind, to celebrate, to come together. 

The Undercroft at Hogwarts had, of course, been where Ominis and Sebastian had spent a similar night of bonding. When Ominis had found him, crying in a corner, clutching Solomon’s last will and testament. 

It had been the catalyst to the mending of their once thought ruined friendship. The guilt had overcome Sebastian, at the realization that Solomon had planned on giving him everything upon his death. The words had poured out of him with shaking sobs, dumping all of the trauma inside of him onto the boy who had just come to retrieve a forgotten textbook.

They had been inseparable ever since, Ominis had even officially moved into the home in Feldcroft, finally able to escape his family. He had sat with Sebastian when he received the news of Anne’s demise, tears of his own mixing with his on the quivering parchment in his hand. When he discovered how she had passed away alone and far from home at some London inn. The Aurors who found her only knowing to alert Sebastian by a folded up bit of parchment in her robes, A letter Sebastian had written to her just after he returned to Hogwarts after she had been cursed. 

And Ominis had stayed when MC did not, her presence in his life fading more and more as the weeks passed after the night in the catacomb. Even more so, after Anne’s death when Sebastian had spiralled into the darkness of his mind. Swathed in guilt and grief with no foreseeable way of escaping it all. 

He had been too caught up in his own pain to mind any attention to hers, and he had lost her completely. By the time he had relearned how to be alive again, she was gone. The situation too tedious to try and mend. He had let her go, knowing she’d be far better off without him, and by the time graduation came around, she was hardly more than a memory and had become yet another ache in his heart.

It was Ominis who had put him onto the pretty little blonde, a rag tossed over his shoulder as he leant across the bar to tell him all about how she was french and looking for a good time that Sebastian was all too happy to give. 

Sebastian finally pulled himself out of his reminiscing, and out of his bed, to ready himself for his shift. The girl from last night already fading into just another memory of a good time.

~*~ The chill of the late morning air and the smoke in his lungs steadied Sebastian’s racing heart as he stood upon the roof of St. Mungos.

His morning had been taken up entirely by a handful of Aurors who had walked straight into a trap laid by a cell of dark wizards, led by a tip from an informant who had been playing both sides. He and his fellow Healers had managed to save most, but the one he had not is what had sent him up to the roof to clear his head, and settle his stomach. Every one of his failures twisted in his gut like a blade, making him want to crawl out of his skin.

Sebastian closed his eyes as he took another long drag of his cigarette, willing the vision of the aurors final moments from his brain, though he knew he’d be stuck with it until he drew his own final breath, just like all of the others. 

He was pulled from his morbid reverie by a trainee healer, summoning him back inside from her place at the door, her arms crossed over her chest, an instinctual attempt to shield herself from the cold. Sebastian flicked the half finished smoke from his fingers as he turned to follow her back inside, the cigarette disappearing before it hit the ground. 

The trainee quickly filled him in on his call as they descended the stairs, two at a time. 

“Another Auror.. Got splinched when they attempted to apparate her here, away from the scene. Suspect her body was too weak to handle apparition. Had to arrange for an emergency portkey, she’s in a bad state.” 

Sebastian nodded along, his heart racing once again, with a mix of adrenaline and dread. 

Their feet landed simultaneously on the landing of the fourth floor, and the elder healer slammed through the door, to a small crowd and a blood bath. Right there in the corridor. He pushed his way through the onlooking Aurors in varying states of distress,  to the figure lying on the floor, writhing and gasping in a pool of her own blood. 

He had been so lost in taking in the damage, the hurt, his mind whirring a million miles a minute at the prospect of what he was walking into, he hadn’t taken a moment to register her face.

A face he knew, a face that had him stop dead in his tracks. It was as if ice water had replaced the blood in his veins as he stood over MC, convinced his racing heart had now stopped completely. 

“MC?” 

He allowed himself no more than a half second hesitation before he kneeled beside her twitching form. His eyes roamed her injured body, avoiding her face, unable to force himself to witness the pain there. As his hands found a wound in her abdomen, he knew this was more than a splinch, the mutilation was more than simply severed flesh. 

Sebastian turned to look at the Auror standing closer than the others, trying to ignore the sounds of his old friends choked gasping. He had to bite back an exasperated laugh as he stared into the face of Leander Prewett. 

“Prewett.” He closed his eyes, fixing his tone, the greeting had come out much more venomous than intended. The shock and terror he felt about this situation clouding his mind. “Can you tell me what happened?”  He tried keeping his voice steady, as he always did when he took on the role of calm and collected healer as he questioned the man standing above him, who looked as panicked as he felt. Leander gave Sebastian a polite nod before recollecting the moment of MC’s injury. 

“She’s..she's a scout. She went in first, surveyed the area… she knew it was a trap before any of us realized… one of the bastards ran her through with a blade… he came out of nowhere. Then.. it was just chaos… we were surrounded… After things were under control, we tried everything to stop the bleeding… to fix her. Wiggenweld, essence of dittany, every healing spell they teach us in the program. Nothing worked.”

Sebastians seemed to brain click back into place, and he shook off another laugh of realization as he lifted MC into his arms and off the stone floor, the sight of his lime green robes spreading beneath him a striking contrast against the pool of blood he had been kneeling in. 

“Cursed. I’m positive the blade was cursed.” He nodded his head at the trainee healer who had been standing behind him, observing his work and she sprinted off for the alchemy lab, the knowledge she had absorbed from Sebastian at this point in her training made a verbal request redundant. Sebastian turned to push through into a hospital room to lay MC on the clean cot. He tried once again, to ignore the sight and sounds of the girl fighting for her life, the girl he once thought was the love of his life. Leander followed them inside, planting himself on the opposite side of the bed, his eyes never once leaving MC’s bloodied form. Sebastian couldn’t help the passing thought that the two Aurors were together, or the jealousy that suddenly roared inside of him at the thought. 

He moved to the cabinet above the bed, his touch letting the lock release and the door fall open. He grabbed a small glass vial and turned back to Leander and MC, setting it down on the small wooden table beside him. 

To ease Leander’s mind as much as his own, Sebastian welcomed the habitual way he slipped into a calm recitation of what he knew to be the issue, and how they could resolve it. Even now, amidst the chaos and fear, Sebastian felt a swell of pride and peace fill his chest, knowing he had found exactly what he was meant to do with his life.

“Suspect the blade was cursed to make the wound untreatable, to prevent any common healing rectification to take hold, unfortunately I also suspect it’s why we can’t heal the splinch either. The curse affects the entirety of her body, including new injuries. So this..” Sebastian holds up the small glass vial. “...Will hopefully slow the bleeding, while I do my work, the counter charms tend to take a bit of time, time that we do not have.” 

Sebastian expected Leander to pelt him with panicked questions, or threaten his life if he did not manage to save MC. Reactions he was accustomed to receiving by loved ones of his patients, instead, the redhead simply nodded, his face stoic and determined. The Healer couldn’t help but wonder if the Auror was simply still in shock, numb from the battle. A part of him wished Prewett would yell or curse or panic, then, at the very least the only sound in the room would not be the sounds of their dying friend. 

The Healer had no time to psychoanalyze the Auror, instead he put him to work.

“Alright, Prewett. Would you mind giving me a hand holding her head back?” 

Leander didn’t hesitate as he gently took MC’s head in his hands, and tilted it back so Sebastian could pour the potion down her throat, with shaky hands, trembling with anxiety at seeing his former friend in such a state. Prewett’s hands on her head ensured she didn’t choke them back up or spit them out in her fight for breath. 

Despite Sebastian being finished feeding her the potion, Prewett didn’t move his hand away from where it rested on the top of her head, his fingers trailing through her hair in what could only be interpreted as comfort. 

Sebastian stamped down the bubbling angry jealousy at the gesture, and set the empty vial into a hole in the wall, where they promptly disappeared, knowing it would reappear back in the alchemy lab instantly, ready to be sterilized and reused. 

He returned to the side of the bed, pulling out his wand, and began softly muttering the necessary charms and counter curses. So lost in his work, he didn’t notice his trainee return, setting the necessary potions for the course of the treatment onto the table, at his side. 

He wasn’t so lost in his work, however, that he didn’t hear when Prewett finally spoke up, his voice quiet and soft, words directed at the trainee. His gaze was on MC who was still in a state of agony, her gasping still the only sounds in the room until he had begun to speak. 

“I told them we shouldn’t have tried apparating with her, that we should wait for a portkey or summon for a healer to come to her.”

The trainee shook her head in sympathy, her mouth opening and closing, completely unaware of what to say, how to help the man who had brought MC to them to be saved. Sebastian understood this was one of the hardest parts of the job, of their careers. Dealing with the patients' friends and family. When MC’s body seemed to be wrapped up in a golden light, he exhaled softly, and lifted his wand from where it rested centimeters above her body, its tip lit with the same golden light. Then, he sent his trainee out to assist the other healers with their work. 

He attempted to crack a joke, to lighten the mood now that he knew he could fix her, heal her. 

“Turns out some Aurors do have brain function. Wouldn’t have expected it to be you though, Prewett.” 

Sebastian felt a bit of satisfaction when his playful jab pulled Leanders gaze away from the girl in the bed, and on him with a roll of his eyes and a small smirk. It wasn’t Leander who returned the banter, however. The choked words and sound of MC’s voice made both men startle. 

“Fuck off, Sallow.” 

Sebastian couldn’t help the grin that split his face, and Leander wore a matching one as he looked back at her, quickly pulling his hand away from where he still had it laid on her head. She was still twitching slightly and her face was still contorted in pain, but the curse leaving her body and the slowing of the blood flow must have had her pain dissipating just enough to be coherent. 

“Well, seems she’s at least in good spirits.” 

Leander spoke first, and Sebastian knew he had to pull himself together. His mind already running with hope that this could be what brings MC back to him, this could be his chance to redeem himself to the last person alive he still felt indebted to do so.

When MC met Leanders gaze, and her pained look twisted into an almost smile, Sebastian swallowed thickly, his arm moving to pull out another potion from the cabinet. 

“You two together, then?” 

Before either Auror could respond to his query, a knock on the door pulled all three of their attentions towards it. It opened slowly, revealing an older, official looking wizard, who barely glanced at the girl in the bed before turning his stoic gaze on Leander. “Prewett. Boss wants your statement. Now.” 

Leander stiffened, his eyes flicking between the man in the door, MC and Sebastian. Who was torn between wanting information and wanting to be rid of the one thing standing between him and being alone with MC. He continued his work, pretending not to pay any attention to the exchange as he gently applied the potion to the two gaping wounds in MC’s abdomen. 

MC hissed at the sensation of the liquid dripping into her body through her lesions and she spoke to Leander through gritted teeth, her voice tight with pain, assuring him she would be fine. Prewett rolled his eyes, but patted her arm gingerly, and made his departure with a small scowl. 

Sebastian kept his gaze on his work on the injuries, smiling when he watched the essence of dittany do its job, stitching her flesh back together. His grin grew wider when it stayed that way, his mind now reverting back to what he could possibly say now, with his work nearly done, the girl beneath him nearly healed. 

“Merlin, that feels so weird every time.”  MC’s voice sounded lighter, less tight and laced with pain as she commented on Sebastian’s healing work on her damaged body. Sebastian tilted his head to smirk down at her, another playful glint in his eye.

“Finding yourself injured quite a bit then, MC?” 

Clearly uncomfortable with the seemingly imbalanced power dynamic with Sebastian standing above her, MC tried to raise herself up into a sitting position with shaky arms, ignoring his teasing comment. Despite the pain dissipating with the disappearance of her wounds, she was still quite pale and Sebastian could see the dizziness in her eyes. He instinctively grasped her shoulders to lie her back down on the bed, earning himself a scowl that brought him right back to age 15 when he’d try and steal from her Honeydukes haul.

“Oh wipe that scowl off your face, I’m trying to help you, you know. I’ve already saved your life.”  Sebastians tone was firm, but laced with a familiar playfulness he always felt with her.  “You’ve lost a lot of blood, MC. It’s why you feel so weak.”  MC, in fact, did not wipe the scowl from her face, but she did lie back down. Sebastian was grateful for the small victory as he popped the cork of the last vial, the one the trainee had fetched for him from the alchemy lab. 

He offered the vial to MC with a small smile, and an expectant look.

“Drink up, Buttercup.” 

Her scowl deepened, but she obediently took the vial with shaking hands, but before she tipped it back she looked back at Sebastian. 

“Am I at least allowed to ask what this is or am I just supposed to trust you?” 

Sebastian knew she meant nothing more from her choice of words, but they stung just the same. His mind ran off with memories of everything he had put her through with her trust in him. How he had lost her trust, her friendship, her love for him with his reckless pursuit in their adolescence. 

He recovers quickly, with a roll of his eyes as he tilts the vial up to her lips with two fingers.

“It’s just a blood replenishing potion, I promise. Now, drink before you pass out.” He crosses his arms, watching her expectantly, before cracking another joke and making a move to stop her from downing the vial. “On second thought, if you do pass out I won’t have to put up with your sass.” 

MC shoots him an unconvincing glare as she swallows the dark red liquid, wincing at the taste. It was hard to believe that it had been nearly six years since the two had seen one another, and had been even longer since they’d had a proper conversation. Yet, here they were, falling into easy banter as if no time at all had come to pass. 

As Sebastian brings the vial back to the depository to send it back to the Alchemy room, MC clears her throat, and with the effects of the potion already settling into her system, she sits up in the bed using arms that are now much more stable. 

“We aren’t… together, just so you know. Leander and I. We’re just friends, partners at work, but not… together.”

When Sebastian doesn’t respond right away, because he’s lost in a sea of thoughts of everything more this could mean for him, for the hope he had slowly building inside his heart. She speaks again, her voice sounding much more irritable. 

“You asked, before… which is why I’m telling you. You asked.” 

Sebastian gives her another teasing grin, quirking an eyebrow at her ready defense as he returns to her bedside.

“Ah, and here I thought you were simply coming onto me. Wouldn’t be surprising if I'm honest. Happens all the time, when I save pretty little witches from their untimely demise. Quite common for Healers actually.” 

MC scoffs, crossing her legs beneath her on the bed. Her strength and personality slowly coming back to her again, with an adequate amount of blood now pumping through her veins. 

“Clearly your ego hasn’t dissolved with age, Sebastian.” 

Sebastian manages an easy laugh at her retort, the clipboard coming from the wall and into his hands. His mind running off with thoughts on just how long he could keep her here, at St. Mungos, under healer advisement. Keep her here with him, take away any chance for her to bolt back out of his life, give him a chance to make things right.

“Quite the opposite, really. I’m surprised I don’t fall over with how big my head is.” 

MC rolls her eyes, muttering something about it’s so full of air I’m surprised you don’t float away. Her gaze falling to the clipboard in Sebastians’ hands.

“You’re not keeping me here, are you?” 

Sebastian glances away from the form in his hand, and at MC’s scowling face ready for a fight. He lets out a heavy sigh as he drops the clipboard, and crosses his arms over his chest, giving her his best stern look of authority.

“You were cursed, MC, and you lost a decent amount of blood.” 

The Healer should have known better than to expect MC to see logic and sense. She bristled at his words, swinging her legs from the bed with a look of determination. Sebastian half-hoped she’d wobble as she stood, then he could at least feel justified in his desire to keep her here.

No such luck. MC stood in a firm stance, and then pranced around the small room. As if to prove she was well and able to get the hell out of this place. Sebastian couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped him at her antics that were bordering on playful. She continued moving around, glaring at Sebastian all the while. Though luck was back on his side, when she attempted a spin. The motion giving way to a bout of dizziness that had Sebastian catching her with a small, exasperated, laugh. 

Sebastian guided her back to the bed, a look of triumph on his face as she blinked slowly, trying to steady the whirling inside of her head. He raises his arms in innocent submission when he tries to help her onto the bed, which had earned him a deadly glare. 

“Habit, MC. This is my job after all.” He defends himself with a signature smirk, the corner of his mouth tilting slightly upward. MC made a sound in her throat, as she settled back on the bed, her glare unsubsiding. 

“Yes, well. I still feel as though I’m alright to leave, Healer Sallow. I promise not to spin in circles like a buffoon for the foreseeable future.” 

Sebastian hummed thoughtfully, doing everything he could to avoid looking at her face, each time he had since her return to the world of the living, it felt like the vice around his heart tightened further, stealing the air from his lungs. He busied himself with his clipboard, flipping the pages of parchment as if searching for something. 

“Oh? No apparating? No traveling by Portkey? Going to travel like a proper muggle are you?” When his words got no snarky defense from the girl lying on the bed, he forced himself to look at her and fixed his tone back to Healer, rather than something akin to a friend. “I can’t force you to stay, MC, but I’d feel much more comfortable if you, at the very least, stuck around for just a few more hours. Until I am absolutely certain you are alright.” 

MC heaved a dramatic sigh, huffing and puffing as she made a show of getting comfortable on the bed. Her eyes narrowed in his direction all the while, looking much more like a petulant child than a fearless Auror. Sebastian took her silent movements as an agreement, under the assumption this is the best he would get from the prideful girl. 

“Oh come now, MC, no need to pout. Come on, sweetheart,  give me a smile.” That did the trick, Sebastian thought, as he watched the fire light in her eyes once again at his words, her head whipping around to face him. Though, before she had a chance to speak or curse, Sebastian continued on. “Would you like to hear a joke? Always seems to cheer up my pouting patients, though they’re usually children… but I suppose with your current behavior you’re one and the same.” 

He gave her a cheeky grin to counter her deadly glare.

This is nice, he thought to himself, Just like we’re fifteen again. 

“If looks could kill…” The Healer muttered, his smile unfading. “Now, What’s a vampire's favorite ship?” He let the start of his joke hang in the air, completely aware that MC would not offer up the punchline. He delivered it with a theatrical grin and open hands.  “...A blood vessel.” 

MC met his joke with a loud groan, her eyes closed but the hint of an exasperated smile on her face. 

“Please, Sebastian. Six years later and your jokes still suck?” 

Sebastian’s heart pounded in his chest, six years, since they had seen one another. It had been even longer since the two of them had been anything that could be considered remotely close. He knew this, of course. The thought plaguing his brain whenever he was still, whenever he couldn’t fill it with his work, or distract himself with pretty witches he found in pubs. 

It was hearing it from her mouth, in her words, that had his hands pausing from where they had been scrawling a note to send to the Alchemy lab. They trembled now, with a mix of anticipation and dread. Sebastian took a deep breath, his exhale slow, the sudden reality settling on his chest and clearing his head of anything but his need to fix this, to bring her back. He tapped the parchment with his wand, watching it fold itself up into the shape of a bird before flitting towards the door. He walked over to release it into the corridor, allowing it to continue to its destination. 

Sebastian slowly shut the door, turning back around to face the girl he had been desperately and painfully missing for the better part of a decade, who was now two feet away from him with a small smile on her face, from his dreadful joke. The click of the door closing again seemed to suck all of the air out of the small room, and that smile was fading now, MC picking up on the sudden, awkward tension.

He ran his hand over the back of his neck, awkwardly. Wondering how the hell one even starts a conversation such as this. He decides that’s exactly where to start. All these years later, after all of the mistakes and avoidance and emotional immaturity, the only thing that needed to be said was the truth, and Sebastian decided that would start now. 

No matter how awkward and tense the conversation may be, Sebastian was not going to give up this chance, perhaps his only chance at saying what he had been wanting to say for years. He had to do it for himself, and for the hope that still flickered in his heart for them, together. 

“MC… I… I don’t even know where to start with this… with me… and you… and us.” 

He clears his throat again, forcing down the growing lump of emotion that was threatening to overcome him. His gaze flicked from where he had taken a sudden interest in the stone floor, to MC, who was now white as a sheet and her chest heaving, in quick and short bursts. 

Sebastian continued on, certain that her demeanor was from him, his words, and not remnants of the curse she had befallen. He pulled the chair meant for visitors of patients, and slid it close to her bedside, seating himself on it. Moving his eyesight to his sweating hands clasped in front of him, away from the girl staring at him with wide eyes.

“Suppose the best place to start is with an apology… though I don’t think there’s anything I can say or do that would even come close to proving to you how sorry I am. For how I treated you, how I let myself pull away from you… and never even tried to come back.” 

He paused to swallow, to try and work something into coherency in his head. He startled when MC swung her legs off the side of the bed to face him head on, her voice seeming much louder than it was in the silent room.

“What are you talking about, Sebastian?” 

Her words left him reeling with confusion, and he managed to make himself look at her, slightly above him with her position on the bed. MC’s face was concerned, laced with confusion that only served to deepen his own.

“I.. um.” Perhaps she had forgotten? Or this had only been a heartbreaking journey for him? Perhaps his last two years in school, drowning in grief had addled his brain? His recollection? 

He didn’t know the answers, and his racing pulse seemed to quicken even further. Still, he had to keep trying. He couldn’t, wouldn’t let her leave again. Not without hearing everything he had always meant to say, before it had been too late. Sebastian ran his hands down his face, as if to wipe away the confusion, the anxiety and he heard her take a deep, shaking breath just as he had minutes ago. 

When he removed his hands, MC was meeting his gaze. Her eyes now swimming with tears of her own. They were mirrors of one another. Hands clasped in laps, pulses racing, cheeks twinged pink, eyes filled with tears threatening to fall. The Healer was certain, if he concentrated just hard enough, he would be able to hear the sounds of their hearts pounding in the silent room.

They kept a locked gaze for a beat, before she closed her eyes, a look of anxious determination crossing her face as she did so. As if willing herself to trudge on. 

Then, she touched him.

She leant forward, to curl her fingers around his shoulders, over the stains of her blood still present on his robes, as if to steady him, steady both of them. Despite the air leaving his lungs at the feeling of her hands on his body, no matter how innocent the touch, He felt his pulse evening out. The look in her eyes was full of hurt and concern, not anger or resentment. 

“Have you… thought this… us… was your fault all this time? That you were solely responsible for… this?”  

Her words settled in his mind, exacerbating his confusion, because of course he was. This was all his fault, just as everything that had transpired in their schooldays was his fault. The look on his face must have betrayed his thoughts because as his mouth opened, ready to spill everything. She cut him off with a laugh, an incredulous look on her face as she looked past him. Sebastian could nearly see the gears turning in her mind, he waited for her to return from whatever recesses of her mind she had retreated too before he tried speaking once again. 

Once again, being cut off by the girl he knew he was still desperately in love with.

“I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you, not really anyway. I just… am baffled that you have spent the better part of ten years believing that the death of our friendship rested entirely on your shoulders.” 

Sebastian was the one feeling dumbfounded. He had been the one to seal himself away from anyone who tried to show him the tiniest bit of kindness after Solomon’s death. He had been the one to disappear nearly entirely when he got word of Anne joining their Uncle in an eternal rest. It had only been Ominis that he allowed to stand by his side as he buried her beside Solomon, if only as yet another offering of remorse for his actions that brought them all to that moment. 

Of course the distance between Sebastian and MC was entirely his fault. He was the one who put it there, drove a wedge between them with his grief and his guilt. When he opened his mouth to say so, to explain, to accept the responsibility his voice was soft, and sincere. 

“Because it was, MC. I was the one who disappeared. Who created this distance between us, built a wall and didn’t let anyone behind it. It was all entirely my fault. You were the one always chiding me about accepting the consequences of my actions, of my choices. That’s what I’m doing. Hoping that by doing so, we can… start over.”

MC took his admission with another breathy laugh, and a roll of her eyes. It had Sebastian contemplating what he possibly could have been missing from this equation. Why was she acting as though he was innocent? As though he had done nothing to cause this rift between them? Was it Pity? The thought of the girl he had pushed away, pitying him was enough to create a pit the size of a graphorn in his stomach. When he spoke again, his voice was soft and shaking. 

He steeled himself, and said the one thing he had always, viscerally, wanted to say. 

“I loved you, MC. I still love you. Even when I was acting as though I couldn’t care less about you. I was in love with you. There’s a part of me that thinks that I always will be, which is why I need you to listen to me. Let me try and fix this! Because there’s also a part of me that still believes you love me too.” 

His voice raised an octave, as passion flowed through him and his speech. Sebastian took another risk, taking her cold hands into his, his thumbs gently caressing the unbelievably soft skin on the backs of her hands. 

“Please.” 

The tears that had been building in her eyes finally fell as Sebastian stared into her face with impassioned determination. He watched as they raced down her cheeks, falling onto their clasped hands. He watched as she took another shaky breath, squeezing her eyes shut tight.

“No, Sebastian. It was me. I left. I could have tried harder to be there for you when… after… Well, everything. But I didn’t want to. I was sick over how much you had lost because of me. I should have listened to Ominis when he told me not to encourage you with the relic.  I should have stopped you from… I should have stopped you that night in the catacombs with Solomon. I could have and I didn’t.” 

She takes a beat, to breathe deeply again. 

“Then, Anne. Merlin. I… I just couldn’t… I couldn’t bear to… to be around you after she. After I couldn’t save her. The guilt of everything that was my fault, and seeing how hurt you were because of it all. I just… I distanced myself from you. It was me, Sebastian. I wanted this, because I was selfish and couldn’t accept what I had done, that I had played a part in all of your pain. Because I loved you too.” 

The room was silent once again. Save for the sounds of their shared labored breathing, both of them trying to catch their breath after their passionate confessions and exclamations. Both of them trying to absorb the other's words. They had lived entirely separate lives, distanced themselves from one another because they both believed themselves to be at fault. If they could have just talked to one another, all those years ago, perhaps it wouldn’t have had to be this way. Perhaps MC wouldn’t have had to face death to see Sebastian again. 

Sebastian was about to shoulder more blame, tell her how he could have chased her, could have tried harder once he had crawled out of his hole of grief stricken depression. Though before he could say anything, he was smiling softly, his eyebrow quirked with mild amusement and curiosity. He gave her hands a gentle squeeze. 

“Loved? As in past tense?” 

Despite it all, that incessant hope in his heart flickered still, and he held his breath while he watched her expression soften. Her hands dropped his, and she caressed his face with gentle fingers. “Don’t think I let myself think about it too much, or for too long… because it’s painful too. But I think you know that I do, still, love you, Sebastian.” 

He did know, deep, deep down, but still, he wanted to hear her say it. It had been worth it, hearing those words from her mouth had his heart feeling like it was going to burst forth from his chest. The tears of guilt and anxiety now replaced with tears of joy he had not felt in a long, long time. It felt as though the weight of the entire world was lifted from his chest, like he was breathing fresh air for the first time after months underground. 

Sebastian stood up, to hold MC’s face in his hands and stare into her eyes, hoping that she could sense his sincerity.

“We were both stupid kids. Didn’t know what the hell we were doing, I’m still sorry, and I will forever blame myself for us being in this position now… but we’re not kids anymore. Do you think… Do you think we could do this? Fix this? Be together?” 

He was nervous to ask, but the look in her eyes wasn’t dowsing his hope, it was igniting it. Her lips slowly curled into a smile, and her voice was soft, and as sincere as he felt. 

“I’d like to try.” 

No sooner had the words left her mouth when his lips were pressing against hers, his fingers moving to tangle into her hair, still caked with her own blood. Some part of Sebastian expected to feel sparks, or some dramatic swell of emotion that made him weak in the knees, but the kiss settled into his heart like he’d been dosed with a calming draught, like this is where he had always meant to be, with her lips on his. 

Sebastian had been so lost in the moment, in this reconciliation with MC, he had forgotten he was at work, on shift, as a Healer. The thought had managed to weasel its way into his mind, ruining the passionate moment with MC, and it felt like he had been doused with ice water. 

He pulled away with an apologetic smile, and his fingers still on her chin. 

It had been just in time, as at that moment the door swung open, revealing his Trainee Healer, having returned with more vials of blood-replenishing potion he had ordered for MC. He hoped that the position they were discovered in could be seen as an innocent exam.

Sebastian managed to ignore the teasing grin MC was giving him, with her back to the Trainee. He met his fellow Healer halfway into the room and accepted the vials with a smile and a thank you before she left once again, shutting the door quietly. 

When Sebastian turned back around, to set the vials onto the side table beside the bed, MC had laid herself back against the pillows, playing the role of innocent patient well. 

He stood beside the bed, unable to fight his smile or the urge to caress her hair as he stood at her bedside. Sebastian tried putting himself back into the role of Healer, and not lovesick former school friend. 

“My shift is up in a few hours. Will you behave and be a good patient until then? Please? We can… talk.” 

MC gave him a mischievous grin, and made a show of settling herself into the bed. 

“I suppose I can stick around for a few more hours. I’ll be sure to be the most needy patient you have ever had the misfortune of dealing with.” 

Her teasing comment seemed to bring the oxygen back into the room, the tension dissipating instantly as he rolled his eyes and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. The tender moment making his heart swell, one he had had many a daydream about. 

“I’d expect nothing less.” He slid the bottles of potion across the wooden side table, and closer to MC. “I’ll be back to make sure you take these. One every half an hour until I’m certain you have an adequate amount of blood back in your body.” 

MC rolled her eyes, and Sebastian returned it with a grin before moving towards the door of the exam room and slipping outside. Before he fully left the room, he peeked back inside. 

“Hey MC?” Once he had her attention, he said what he wanted to say. “I’m glad you got cursed today.” 

Sebastian managed to close the door with a loud laugh, and made his way down the corridor towards his next patient,  before he had to endure whatever scathing retort or hex MC undoubtedly had for him.

[indefinitely-sealed]

went and updated the pinned post with info on my lad, trying to ride the motivation shade and dawn gave me with their posting their own characters here, haha

[theultimatepumpkinpie]

aw man I hate biting the bullet. they taste so bad

[saltpepperbeard]

hi everyone how are we doing i'll go first i'm doing Bad :)

[the-vivi-section]

love how phoenix wright and kanade yoisaki both express their savior complexes via gayness

like they both have a "i have to save everyone but i NEED to save them in particular" thing going on like do you see my vision. please tell me im not insane

also blue :3

[ocularmacdown]

episodes where mac and charlie wanted to kiss and make out soooo badly it makes them look stupid

aka i needed to physically see them lock lips but rcg are big meanies and won’t let me /lh

[spittyfishy]

Hi everyone! As you can see I’m officially opening commissions again! I tried to get all the relevant information in the images, but basically the order of operations would be letting me know what kind of drawing you want and any relevant character references, then send me the money and I can get started! I’ll send what the sketch looks like in case any changes need to be made, and then once you give the go ahead I’ll get it finished up to which ever level of completion and then send it to you through email or tumblr or whatever you’d prefer!

Let me know if you’ve got any questions and I hope you all have wonderful days!

(Prices in USD for simplicity’s sake)

[moon7jay]

I didn't know the heeseung wip would get so much attention and now it's making me so nervous because 1) it's going to be my first time writing a full length fic and 2) I get insecure in my writing so often I'm going to shoot myself in the head I don't want to disappoint anyone I'm s.c.a.r.e.d

[seduceme-lovestruck-thearcana]

@megatraven

I’m watching Alex (again) and I got to this part in their S2

Ik it’s a sudden thought and probably obvious, but I bet it was heartbreaking to learn she has Hera’s potential. Like, in this scene we see them connecting the dots in real time and I bet it hurts so much. They know they can lose her, and it’s all of a sudden and oh…..I bet it hurts a lot. Even when they deny the possibility by saying Aphrodite would’ve sensed it, I bet a part of them was wondering if she was hiding it and not telling the truth. They later call her out (if I’m remembering properly) and it’s even more painful to have the truth suddenly and have Ares of all people knowing about it and then basically damning her in Olympus. And they have to WATCH!!

It just hit me for a second and it hurts😭.

EDIT:

Oh, honey……..

[ellieellieoxenfree]

louis posted on IG and i felt like the iron band around my chest just loosened incrementally.

[destructive-delight]

if it turns out that i’m unfit to donate blood i will actually lose it for good.

[ravens-words]

The Secret Relationship AU

AN: I wasn't going to post before it's finished, but I thought this might be the push I need to finally finish it so here we are. Thank you in advance if you read. I will love you forever if you reblog/reply. Hope you enjoy!

-

Now

-

"Is everything okay with you and Eddie?"

When Buck looked up from his phone, Bobby was sitting on the bench next to him, and he was waiting expectantly for an answer.

Too bad Buck didn't really have an answer; not a truthful one anyway. "Of course it is, Cap. Why do you ask?"

Bobby shrugged. "You two seem to be avoiding each other; it's been happening for the past couple of days. I just thought I'd check in."

Buck tried to appear nonchalant. "Nothing's going on, cap," he was short with him, even though he hadn't meant to be. He wanted this conversation to be over already.

"Buck-"

"Look, Bobby, we still work together just fine. We're professional, right?"

"Yes, but that's not what I'm talking about."

He slammed his locker shut, grabbed his duffel and looked his captain in the eye. "That's all I'm willing to talk about, Bobby. If it starts to affect our work, tell me, otherwise- just leave it."

Bobby didn't say anything, didn't react much save for a short nod. It made Buck feel guilty. "I'm sorry, Bobby."

"Don't be, kid. You're entitled to your privacy. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Tears filled his eyes, and Bobby seemed to notice. The older man sighed and stepped forward, both hands settling on Buck's shoulders. "It's okay, kid," he assured him, a small sad smile on his lips. "Just know I'm here and I'm willing to listen, okay?" At Buck's nod, he patted his shoulder and stepped away. He stopped at the doorway, and called his name.

Buck wiped his face roughly, then turned back to him. "Yeah?"

"Whatever it is, it's gonna be okay. You two can make it through anything. You've proven that more than once."

Buck wished that were true.

-

Then

-

"Can you please get it over with?"

Eddie clenched his jaw, but didn’t spare him a glance as he kept looking ahead. His hands were tight on the steering wheel. Buck closed his eyes, let his head rest back against the headrest and winced. He was dizzy, his wrist ached, he had a blinding headache and he really needed his bed. Having an argument right now was at the very bottom of the list of things Buck needed right now, but Eddie giving him the silent treatment was somehow worse.

"Eddie-"

"Not now, Buck," he cut him off, harsh and incredibly cold.

"Fine," he sighed.

"Fine," Eddie bit out.

-

After his fifth failed attempt to unlock the door, Eddie wordlessly pushed him aside and unlocked the door. He used his own key, and Buck couldn't stop staring at it, and at Eddie's hand, his long fingers. He shook his head, winced at the pain that shot up through his skull, nearly blinding him, and held onto the wall for support.

When he thought he could open his eyes without throwing up, he found Eddie watching him, thinly masked concern written all over his expression. It cleared when he saw Buck looking, and the anger was back. He went further inside the apartment, leaving Buck to trail after him, and got himself a glass of water.

Buck sighed. He didn't think drinking water could be aggressive, but Eddie proved him wrong.

"Eddie."

More aggressive chugging.

"Eddie."

"What?!" he snapped.

Buck felt his hackles rising. "What's going on?"

Both of them were breathing heavily now. Eddie was quiet for a few seconds, then- "are you gonna keep doing this?"

Buck could act like he didn't know exactly what Eddie meant, but he didn't have the patience. "Keep doing my job, you mean? Yeah, Eddie, I do."

"Your job? You- you could’ve gotten out earlier, you could have avoided having a fucking building fall on you."

Buck's anger was a real, living thing inside of him now. "You'd have done the same, Eddie. Hell, you have. It's our job to put our lives at risk."

Eddie shook his head. "No, it's not. Not like that, not like today."

They were standing face to face now, both angry and afraid. There was something electric in the way Eddie was looking at him, like something had shifted. "When you cut your line, three years ago, did I hold it against you? Did I ever bring it up? You risked your life then, just like I did today."

"That was different," Eddie told him, the words escaping through gritted teeth.

"No, it wasn't, and you know it."

They stared at each other, anger slowly seeping out. Buck took a minute to look at his best friend, and he found that now, all that remained in the other man's eyes was fear. "Eddie-" he started, cautious and quiet.

"I'm sorry," Eddie said, just as quiet, "you're right." He looked away, scrubbing a hand down his face. "You scared the hell out of me today, Buck."

"I get that, but you've never- you've never been this angry about it before, so- what gives?"

Eddie looked at him in a way that made Buck think he missed something. Eddie took a step back, hands in his pocket. "I'm gonna take off, do you need anything?"

Buck blinked, startled at the abrupt change. "I thought you were going to stay."

"Change of plans," he told him, looking down at his phone, "Bobby can come keep you company. I'm pretty sure he wanted to come anyway-"

"You always stay," he didn't mean for it to, but the words sounded small and a little betrayed.

Eddie's fingers faltered, and he looked up before he could send the message. "Buck, I can't-"

"You can," he insisted, "why won't you just talk to me?"

He tried to move around him, but Buck refused to let him. "Buck, not now."

He didn’t budge. "This isn't the first time I've done something reckless, and it's not even the worst, so why are you acting like this?" He asked him, throwing the hand that's not in a sling in the air.

"I don't fucking want to lose you, okay?!" Eddie burst out, face red and fists clenched. "You died three months ago. Right in front of me, and I couldn't do a thing about it. Before, there was always this part of me that was used to it- you get hurt, but eventually, you're okay. But now- now all I can think about whenever you do something stupid is those three minutes and seventeen seconds you were dead."

Buck softened, and his eyes filled with tears. "But, I'm okay. I'm alive, I'm breathing."

"Maybe you are but- I'm not, Buck. I'm holding my breath, because all I can think about is the time your luck will run out, and it's fucking inconvenient."

Buck's too stunned to speak, but he tries anyway. "I don't- I don't know what to say. Eds, I'm sorry that it scares you," Eddie flinched at this, but Buck went on, "but this is me. This is how I've always been."

"I know," Eddie told him, "this is on me. It's my problem, Buck."

"Tell me how to fix it."

"You can't," he told him, "and you don't have to, because it's not on you."

"Eds-"

He took a step back. "It doesn't matter. I gotta go," he said under his breath as he hurriedly gathered his jacket and ignored Buck calling his name.

"What? No, you can't- Eddie, wait."

Buck, all pain forgotten, raced after him. He grabbed his arm just before Eddie managed to make his escape. It's awkward with only one working arm, but Buck yanked him away from the door, and then backed him into it, trapping him between his body and the door. They're closer than he'd intended for them to be, but Buck couldn't bring himself to move away. He and Eddie are both breathing hard at this point, and with each second that passed, Eddie seemed more tense than before. 

He lifted up a shaking hand and cradled Eddie's cheek gently. The other man wasn't really looking at Buck, but a gentle nudge had him looking up and into his eyes. "I'm sorry."

Eddie just shook his head.

That's when Buck noticed it- Eddie was holding his breath. For a second, he felt helpless, but then he swayed closer, and let his forehead rest on Eddie's.

It released some of the tension, had Eddie's shoulders slumping, but not enough. It took a minute, but Eddie finally looked him in the eye, and Buck's breath caught in his eyes.

Eddie's expression was complicated, and though at first it may have seemed blank, it didn't take long for Buck to figure out that it was merely a mask. He took a step closer, his lips only a hair away from Eddie's. He saw a flicker in Eddie's eyes. It was more than concern, more than anger, more than the guarded love Buck had become accustomed to. Eddie's eyes moved down to his lips, then back up, and oh. There was that look again.

Loving.

Desperate.

Hungry.

So Buck made the biggest gamble of his life.

He presses his lips to Eddie's in a short kiss that knocked the air out of his lungs and set him on fire. He pulled away slowly, needing to breathe and to assure himself that he hadn't made the biggest mistake of his life.

When he could bring himself to open his eyes, he looked at Eddie, who was frozen, eyes wide as he stared at Buck. Suddenly, all the warmth he'd felt earlier seeped right out of him and was replaced by horror. He stumbled back a step. "Eddie, I'm sorry-"

Eddie didn't let him finish. He lunged towards him, fusing their lips in a messy, uncoordinated kiss, more desperate than anything else, and framed his face with two gentle hands. It's possibly the best kiss Buck ever had.

They stumbled back into the living room, and over to where his lone arm chair sat. Eddie pulled back from him and looked at the space where his couch, the one he'd picked out with Natalia, used to be.

When Eddie's eyes found his, Buck shrugged. "It wasn't the right couch."

Eddie laughed, low and quiet, then pulled him back in. His  hands roamed his back, restless, and Buck lost time as they traded kisses. He didn't know if they kisses for seconds or minutes, or hours. All he knew was that Eddie's lips were on his, his hands were everywhere, and Buck just wanted more.

So, he stepped backwards, and Eddie followed, lips now migrating towards his neck, his collarbone,  the sensitive skin just below his ear. He unbuttoned his shirt slowly, clumsily and with one hand. Eddie was no help at all as his lips trailed off to bite and suck at Buck's neck. Buck gasped and when he couldn't take it anymore, his hand abandoned its mission to rid Eddie of his shirt, and found its way into his hair. He tugged just hard enough for him to pull back. The look Eddie gave him set him on fire. Buck brought their lips back together, and this kiss left them both gasping for air by the time they pulled back.

"Bed?" Eddie asks breathlessly, and Buck felt a thrill at the words. He grinned, boyish and happy, and Eddie's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled too.

"Yeah," he said, voice hoarse. Eddie's eyes, if possible, grow darker, and he pulled Buck back in and into another searing kiss.

Buck managed to get Eddie's shirt off, though it took a lot more time than it should've. He had considered just ripping the thing apart, but that would require the use of two hands. Not to mention this was Eddie's favorite shirt.

They somehow managed to make their way up the stairs without falling, which was a miracle considering the fact that Eddie's hands had made their way under Buck's shirt, touch searing and leaving Buck needing more, more, more.

Eddie pushed him to sit on the edge of the mattress, and knelt by the bed. Buck tugged on the collar of his shirt to bring their lips back together, but he just turned his head to kiss Buck's hand as the two of his gently started to undo the sling. Once it was gone, Eddie tenderly held Buck's wrist up to his lips and placed a kiss there, not caring about the bandage covering it. This gesture, more than anything, made Buck's hart sing.

The atmosphere 6changes after that. The tension was still there, so was the desire, but where it was sharper and more frantic, now it was gentle, more patient. Eddie gently urged him to move back and then climbed into his lap. When they kissed this time, it was slow and needy and passionate. Eddie rested his head in the hollow of his throat and took a breath. "Tell me we're not making a mistake," Eddie pleaded with him, hands clutched in the back of Buck's shirt.

Buck coaxed him out of his hiding spot. Their eyes met, Buck's fear and desire and joy reflected back at him. "Does it feel like a mistake to you?"

Eddie closed his eyes. "No," he whispered. When his eyes opened, the doubt was gone completely and he pressed a kiss to Buck's lips. He was gentle when he pulled his shirt over his head and when he pushed Buck to lay down, his movements  impossibly careful. Buck didn't resist. When Eddie dragged the second pillow and stuffed it under his injured wrist, ordering him to not move it, Buck had to laugh gently.

Eddie reeled back, brows furrowed. "What?"

Buck shook his head with a smile, never taking his eyes off him. "Just- I like it when you're bossy."

Eddie smirked, and Buck could tell he was pleased when his eyes darkened at Buck's words. "Oh yeah?" he whisperd the wonrds into Buck's skin,  his forearms bracketing Buck's head.

Buck couldn't take it anymore, so he yanked him down until his body was more or less covering his. Eddie nearly fell off the bed in his effort to keep from putting any pressure on Buck's injured shoulder and wrist.

Laughter bubbled up, spilling out from his lips into the small space between them. Eddie attempts to kiss him, but ultimately failed because they were both laughing too hard.

Once their laughter died down, Eddie pulled himself up, then settled back on Buck's thighs, with his knees on either side of his hips. He leaned down, and Buck watched his every move, biting back a groan when Eddie's lips pressed to his chest, right under his ribcage, then moved down, and down. Eddie's fingers followed the path of his lips down his chest, his touch light enough that it had Buck squirming. His breath on Buck's overheated skin was too much and when he couldn't take it anymore, he grabbed Eddie's chin and drags him up. "You're a tease," he panted into his mouth.

Eddie smirked, opened his mouth to say something, but Buck kissed him quickly before he could.

The kiss caught fire rapidly, and they didn't talk much after that.

[loveshotzz]

i actually hate yearning!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[queen-scribbles]

Healing Hurts

First LOTRO fic, only, what, five years after I started playing the game? Better late then never. \o/ ---

Halthiras first met Aelinril because of the rain, though it was a meeting she would not remember.

In the days of his youth, before the return of the Shadow, Halthiras was given to walking the woods and valleys surrounding Imladris, exploring the vales of the Trollshaws, learning their secrets, befriending the animals that inhabited them. Though he'd held to this habit unbothered by rain on many occasions before, this was no gentle mist or soft silver showers but a harsh outpouring, fiercely accompanied by thunder and lightning.

So rather than wander the woods, Halthiras wandered the halls of Imladris itself. Even being his home, there was much yet unexplored. He had no plan for these wanderings, simply allowing his feet to carry him where they would. And so his path wound its way through many peaceful hallways and turnings to Tham Send. The Hall of Rest was quiet, as befit its purpose.

Most of the beds stood empty, freshly made and ready for use should they be needed. And the ones occupied he could see, the Elves slept peacefully, resting from long labors or deep hurts. There was, however, a small bustle of hushed activity in a back corner of the hall, so Halthiras was naturally drawn in that direction, with steps deliberate rather than idle.

A cluster of healers stood around two beds, murmuring among themselves as they worked. It was another Elf nearby, differently clad and standing as if to guard the invalids, who noticed his curiosity.

She gave him a questioning look of her own, one brow arched in silent wonder of his purpose.

"Is everything alright?" he asked at the prompting in her eyes.

"As it can be," she replied, concerned gaze lingering once more on the Elves in the beds before she looked back at him. "The last and most gravely wounded from our battle at the end of the Age. We hold hope of healing their wounds ere they succumb, but the servants of the Enemy did them great harm. Hithgol" --she nodded to the male Elf, dark hair, and his face twisted in uneasy slumber--"was struck by what weapon we know not, but its effect on him is most grievous. And Aelinril"--a gesture to the female Elf, long brown hair and features only faintly troubled for the moment--"was pierced by a morgûl-blade, a foul weapon wielded by the chief of the Enemy's servants, meant to linger and wither those it wounds until they are mere shades bound to his will."

One of the healers, indeed, was tending a wound in Aelinril's shoulder, not yet closing though the battle was a century past.

"Why does it refuse to heal?" Halthiras found himself asking.

The guarding Elf shook her head. "They know not. Some foul magic of the Enemy. And so they work on, to delay the fading until a cure is found."

"Is the aught I can do?" He had not seen the great and terrible battle of the Last Alliance, but it made his heart sit heavy that some remained still suffering so.

She studied him. "Unless you are practised in the healing arts, I fear watching over them is the only aid to offer." A sad smile played at her lips. "If you wish to do so, I would welcome the company in my vigil."

"Then you have it," he said with a bow. "When I can lend it."

"Indeed? And might I know the name of my new companion?"

"Halthiras of Imladris," he said.

"Ah, this is your home," she said, smile tinged with melancholy. She placed a hand to her chest and bowed low in returned greeting. "Harthalín, previously of Gondolin and elsewhere, though now I suppose my vigil makes Imladris my home as well." She looked to the beds. The healers had withdrawn from Aelinril, but two lingered over Hithgol. "Aelinril is one of my dearest friends, and Hithgol a brave comrade in arms. I will remain here as long as I may, to watch over them until Lord Elrond comes to tend them."

"And... how do we help?" Halthiras asked as he and Harthalín seated themselves in the chairs by Aelinril's bed.

"Simply be here to keep vigil," she answered. "The healers have said there's a chance they can hear us though they slumber, so if you wish to tell tales or sing songs it might ease what dreams they have." Her brow furrowed. "It has not seemed to help Hithgol, but there are times it does appear to hold Aelinril from fading."

He nodded, studying Aelinril's face as she slept. She still looked peaceful, with only the faintest edge of disquiet. "Whatever I can do, though I fear the songs I know are of celebration, merriment, joy. Hopefully the result of this vigil will warrant them, but I'm unsure they would be fitting now."

"Calling to their minds the joys of the world seems a fine way of helping them cling to it," Harthalín said. "And it is the wont of those young and not touched overmuch by loss to focus on such things."

And so was a new habit begun, on a rain-soaked day, in the Hall of Rest in Imladris.

Halthiras would come when he could, even on days Harthalín was absent. Sometimes days in a row, sometimes with weeks in between, though that was rare, through the long years that followed as Master Elrond and the healers endeavored to pull the sleepers from the Shadow.

Harthalín knew all the tales he did, and told them better, so he spoke of the world now. Things he saw on his exploration of the woods, tales and news passed on from scouts who went further afield into the Trollshaws and Lone-Lands. When he was apprenticed to Master Talagan. When his sister was born. He learned the songs of peace Harthalín knew, and sang them.

Hithgol sank into a deeper slumber, where no voice seemed to reach him. Aelinril's dreams grew more troubles by turns, Master Elrond's skill stayed her from fading but did not yet draw her back, and the wound remained in her shoulder.

And still Halthiras came whenever he could. Once or twice, as she came of age, he convinced his sister to visit, but Hiraneth was too restive enjoy long days of peaceful vigil. He talked to Harthalín, heard her tales of resisting Morgoth, the glory and peace of Gondolin, the might and deeds of Turgon, Glorfindel, Gil-galad and others, alongside reminisces of quieter blissful days over centuries building her friendship with Aelinril.

Some days, when he kept vigil alone, he would braid Aelinril's hair if her dreams grew especially troubled. Like he did for Hiraneth, a simple plait meant to keep it from tangling. And he would sing the songs he learned from Harthalín as well as the ones he knew, and speak of his lessons with Master Talagan, his parent's decision to leave for the Havens. The things Hiraneth would tell him she had seen, grey eyes alight and gestures avid as she explained.

He wondered what color Aelinril's eyes were. But they remained closed, though her dreams eventually seemed to grow more peaceful under Master Elrond's ministrations.

And so it went through the centuries, as the world rolled on outside the valley. It was with mingled joyous anticipation and regret Halthiras told Harthalín--and by extension Aelinril--of his master's decision they would go study at Edhelion for a time. He was excited to travel further than the valleys of his home he knew so well, to see the world a little and study at an Elven refuge known for its history and beauty. But an absence of months or years would be an odd change; he would miss his time with them in Tham Send. Harthalín encouraged the former while understanding the latter.

"I have found myself in new homes a few times in my life," she said with a wistful smile, "it can take time to adjust. But you will not be gone forever, and I will send word of any changes. You have spoken often of how you love to study and explore, you should enjoy the opportunity to do both to the full." She gave his arm a bracing squeeze. "I shall keep my vigil and look forward to your return."

With her blessing and a final farewell, unheard as it likely was, to Aelinril and Hithgol, Halthiras departed for Edhelion alongside Master Talagan and a select company of others, including Hiraneth. Edhelion was wonderful; woods and libraries to explore in equal measure, a place of safety, beauty, and learning. And he did enjoy it. But a portion of of his thoughts remained on Imladris always; missing home, missing the vigil he'd kept in Tham Send. He only made it a year before writing to Harthalín to ask how things stood. Her reply was a few months coming, and what he expected. No change, Hithgol still slept so deeply nothing disturbed him, Aelinril was more prone to restless dreams alternating with peaceful slumber. Perhaps she would wake soon, perhaps not, even Master Elrond did not know. He had some thoughts of cures to try, she would write with updates. And she did, though they were sporadic and rarely altered in content. They both sleep still, but there are more things to try, and they have not faded. That was something, at least, that they lingered yet. It gave hope they would wake eventually, and the Elves could wait long for such a change.

And then came news, in the form of Master Elrond visiting Edhelion. Halthiras had been hoping for a letter from Harthalín, as it had been moths since the last. But though Master Elrond brought no letter, he bore the same glad tidings a missive would have contained.

Aelinril had awakened. Only briefly, before lapsing back into slumber. But it was now the sleep of true rest, untroubled by lingering Shadow. He had every hope for Hithgol as well, indeed, he had come to avail himself of Edhelion's libraries for ways to further ease their slumber, and record the cures that had been successful in treating morgûl-blade wounds, should such knowledge be needed.

"Centuries keeping vigil and keeping hope, and she wakes when I am absent," Halthiras commented to his sister, amused at the timing more than anything.

"Yes, but she woke," Hiraneth returned. "With every indication now that she shall do so again, with the other hopefully not far behind. Focus on that, rather than regret you were elsewhere at the time."

There was wisdom in her words, and he knew it, though she was the younger. "I am sure Harthalín is greatly relieved by this turn, the proving her vigil has not been in vain for her friend." He drew a deep breath, resting one hand on the carven rail as he looked out to forest. "As for myself, I shall enjoy the time here, and hope for more such turns after we are home in Imladris once more."

It was a return marked rather more by sorrow and loss than anticipated. Only a few short weeks after Master Elrond's arrival came an assault by the Dourhand dwarves. By the time they were driven back and their leader killed, the attack had cost much--Edhelion lay in ruins, its libraries destroyed and a great many lives lost in its defense, including Master Talagan.

Harthalín did not press for details when he rejoined her in Tham Send, did not ask him to speak of his mentor, and Halthiras was grateful. There was an understanding in her eyes, a familiarity with grief too near and new, and she let him hold his silence. Which he did, on the days he joined her. But despite the shift in Aelinril's condition and the hope it heralded, he found the forests called to him more than before. The rustle of wind through leaves was a balm to his grief, and he spent much time walking the woods or sitting under trees to heal his heart. It took centuries for the pain to ease, but it did ease. And as it did he found himself in Tham Send more and more again, the peace of the Hall equal to the peace of the woods once more. First in silent vigil, but on an occasion Harthalín was absent he spoke of the loss to Aelinril. Unsure whether she could even hear or not--he almost hoped not--but needing to speak of it to someone, and Hiraneth's anger had driven her to remain in the woods around Edhelion, a watchful guardian of its repose, but also absent from her home. No change came to the sleeping face and he was glad not to disturb her dreams, but speaking of it aloud began the mending.

He began to speak of tales and happenings once more, sing songs both wistful and joyous. Halthiras maintained the renewed vigil through the whispered rumor of returning Shadow, through Dwarves traversing Imladris valley, through Harthalín departing once the Shadow was no longer rumor, foreswearing the Havens until the Enemy she had helped lay low was defeated for good.

"Tell her for me, when she wakes," she asked, and he promised to do so.

But then came word of Dwarves, Dourhands, settling Thorin's Gate, near the ruins of Edhelion. As Master Elrond had recently been given a worrisome dream, he purposed to send his sons and a party of Elves to investigate. He asked Halthiras to be among them, given his close ties to the loss of Edhelion, and in truth, Halthiras would have volunteered if not asked. The next few weeks were full of preparation, wondering if Hiraneth had been the one to send word, and regretting his departure would perhaps mean Aelinril being alone when she woke. He bid her farewell the day before departing so as not to rush, torn between hoping for her to wake soon and hoping for it to be after his return. He tied back her hair once more as she shifted with her dreams.

It was raining as they prepared to leave the next day, a gentle mist the party was protected from by hoods and cloaks. Elladan and Elrohir emerged from their final council with their father, trailed by another hooded figure.

"We go at my father's behest to investigate the Dwarven presence near Edhelion," Elladan addressed those assembled, "but we shall have another companion for part of the journey." He moved to lead the company as he spoke, and Elrohir guided their late addition to join them. "She has been recovering in Tham Send from a most grievous injury and Lord Elrond has given leave for her to depart to the Grey Havens, should she wish to. As our paths align for a time, we shall travel together until Celondim."

Something strange pierced Halthiras' heart at the words. Hope and shock and regret mingled as one. If that meant who he thought...

The figure fell in near him as the Elves began their journey, and one look was all that was necessary. It was her, her hair still tied back as he'd done it. She had awakened at long last and he hadn't been there as he'd promised Harthalín, and now she would be leaving Middle Earth, forever. He wanted to greet her, be courteous, but didn't know how to start.

He caught the knowing look in Elrohir's eye before the son of Elrond spoke. "Aelinril, this is Halthiras, one of my father's household, and a friend I believe would serve well as traveling companion."

She looked at him, then, and her eyes were blue, tinged green, bright and radiant though haunted by long memory. "Halthiras."

He bowed in greeting. "Aelinril."

And so they met for the second time in the rain, and however long or brief the acquaintance would prove to be, it was one she would remember.

[seaofreverie]

NEW CONCERT ON THE HORIZON..... Going to see Franz Ferdinand next year !!!

[princehatterene]

DAMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO