Thank you for the tag @ratchsellsfornax! Always up to hear new music and share music! ❤
Listening to this (and the rest of the album) every day
Stuck in my head for some reason
Recent reminder of how I ended up into power metal
Tagging @lightineventide @valyrra @kiwiplaetzchen @performativetotebag @jessiesjaded @falcatas @raflesia65 @clown-booth and anyone else who has music to share!
What has been stuck in my head for days, cause my kids are on a Moana kick, not even the horrendous headache I had earlier in the week could banish it:
My go to car jam right now:
NP tags to @lyra-prag @barnabyjr @sallowsoul @ravenothere and you!
Sebastian: *walks up behind MC, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a kiss to her cheek* Good morning beautiful!
MC: *yelps and elbows him hard*
Sebastian: *stumbles back, holding his ribs* What on Earth was that for?!?!
MC: *trying to catch her breath* Oh it's only you... thank Merlin... Did you really think it was a good idea to sneak up on someone who spends a significant portion of her time in life threatening situations?
Sebastian: You have a point... but do you really think an Ashwinder is going to surprise you during breakfast in The Great Hall... I mean of all places...
MC: You have a point... but-
Ominis: Can you two stop this half agreeing, half bickering nonsense? Some of us like to enjoy our breakfast in peace.
Sebastian: *Blabbering on about some niche magical theory topic*
MC: *rolls over to face him* Sebastian, I love you, but it's nearly midnight. I'm trying to sleep.
Sebastian: But you don't get it do you, this could be the next great-
MC: *takes her wand off the nightstand* Seb, again I love you. But I swear to Merlin if you don't shut up, I will seal your lips with magic until morning.
Sebastian: You can't even... *reconsiders* You wouldn't...
MC: Try me.
Sebastian: *stares*
MC: *stares back*
Sebastian: *sighs* Fine, you win. But don't think that I won't be telling you all about it in the morning.
MC: *Pecks him on the lips before rolling back over* Good night!
Just think about it, he'll do anything to take care of his sister and those he cares about, so why would that not extend to making sure everyone is fed?
Like imagine the first day that MC wakes up at Sebastian's place, and this man has prepared a whole breakfast buffet. "I didn't know what you would want, so I prepared a bit of everything..." And he made two types of eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, toast, yogurt, fruit, porridge, AND has MC's favorite childhood cereal stocked in his cabinet, just in case.
Summary: When Sebastian first broke her heart at Hogwarts, Y/N swore off becoming attached to anyone ever again. Now, years later, Sebastian is a professional Quidditch player and she's a renowned physician. When Sebastian breaks his wrist during a match, he turns to her for help. Though she's the one who can mend his broken body, he's determined to mend her heart.
A/N: Huge thank you to @barnabyjr, @placeartinside, and @cheywritesfanfics for their support and help with this story thus far. Be sure to check out their works! They are all insanely talented and I am so lucky to call them friends.
Themes: One-sided enemies to lovers; Fake Dating; eventual smut
Warnings: Mentions of anxiety and injuries
Two hours later you stood outside of the room they had moved Sebastian to, pacing. Upon arriving at the hospital, it had taken only 10 minutes for the medical team to prepare him for treatment. It had felt like an hour to you, each transfer seemingly taking twice as long as it usually did.
The first few doses of Wiggenweld didn’t seem to have an effect on his pain. Normal bone mending charms seemed inadequate as well, much to your dismay. You had stood in the corner of the room, observing, your arms wrapped around your form in a futile attempt to keep you calm.
The injuries ran deep, deep enough that you, and your on-call colleague, Dr. Ridley, decided that the best course of action was for you to treat him. Given your emotional connection to Sebastian, which had just grown even more tenuous today alone, maybe it wasn’t a wise decision to try and treat him yourself. He would heal with multiple doses of skele-grow, but the process would be excruciatingly painful. Both you and Dr. Ridley were unsure of what his ultimate outcome would be if you took that treatment route.
So, you made an ethical call, and decided to do what you did best. You pulled yourself together in the locker room, stripping out of the clothes you had donned to the quidditch game, what should have been an enjoyable event. It felt like peeling off a costume and coming back into your true self, the rough feeling of scrubs familiar against your skin.
Before you knew it, you found yourself standing over Sebastian, eyes closed and wand raised. You pulled the fractured pieces together, arranging them in your mind like a puzzle. Each piece felt painstakingly tedious. Each groan from Sebastian’s lips felt like someone had reached into your chest cavity and squeezed. You tried not to focus on all the eyes on you. You couldn’t blame others for being curious. Healthcare workers had a way of being curious about differing techniques, and yours was uniquely novel.
By the time you were finished, you were covered in sweat. It was only an hour later, but it felt like an eternity. Sebastian was stable and you practically ran from the room, leaving Dr. Ridley and the rest of the medical team to manage the clean up. You felt horrible for departing so quickly, but the weight of everything - taking responsibility for Sebastian’s outcome, the feeling of so many eyes on you, the stress of the entire day - had left you spiraling, your heart pounding in your chest.
You tried to focus on your breathing, your form eventually being overtaken by pacing. Subconsciously, it was like your body knew that pacing would help. It gave you a chance to work off the nervous energy and sore muscles that much exertion of magic left you with. If you could just keep moving, breathing, you knew you wouldn’t collapse in on yourself.
After a couple of minutes, Dr. Ridley opened the door and stepped into the hall, closing it softly behind her. You turned to face her, the massive stone ceiling echoing despite Dr. Ridley’s best attempt to avoid it. She studied you in the late afternoon light, before speaking. “He’ll be fine. Mostly thanks to you,” your colleague stated matter-of-factly.
You had met Dr. Ridley when you had both started your medical training together. For every measure that you were unsure, nervous, and slightly timid, she was confident, warm, and open. You knew that she would never tell you that things would be fine if they wouldn’t be. So, you let out a breath that you weren’t aware you were holding in, and tried to convince yourself that she was right.
“I, thank you. I couldn’t have done this without you, Charlotte.”
“You’re welcome… but you do realize Agatha is going to have questions on Monday, wonder why you ended up treating your boyfriend?” You nodded, doing your best to choose your words carefully through the haze of exhaustion.
“I’ll talk to her. I’m sure it’ll be alright when I explain.” You weren’t, but you weren’t quite ready to think about that possibility yet. You had learned to take things one day at a time at Hogwarts. It had proved to be one of the only effective coping mechanisms you had found.
Dr. Ridley let out a soft sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Either way, Sebastian is stable for now. He will probably be asleep for a couple of hours, at least. You should go home and shower, get something to eat. Maybe even sleep a little.”
You simply nodded in response. You both knew that if you said you would, it would be a lie.
⋆｡°✩
You had never been more thankful for how well stocked you kept your locker. After an achingly hot shower, one where you had let the water run down your face like a scene from a teenage drama for an embarrassingly long time, you got dressed. The feeling of fresh scrubs against your skin was welcome. It made you feel like you had a handle on what was happening, despite your mind vehemently disagreeing.
Usually you could calm your anxiety, a result of years of practice and dissociation. It was unlikely that you could have survived all your near-death experiences as a teen, your rampages across the highlands and through the forbidden forest, if you hadn’t learned to calm your mind and set fear aside.
This time, something felt different. Despite the press of the wooden bench against your thighs, the low hum of the fan producing meager airflow in the room, you just couldn’t ground yourself to this moment in time. ‘What if you had lost him?’ You asked yourself the question over and over again, the images replaying like a slideshow in your mind: Sebastian being gravely injured, Sebastian crying out your name, Sebastian dying in your arms. The thumping of your heart kept rhythm, your mind jumping to a new possibility with each beat. Your grip on the bench was almost painful.
You had nearly lost him. He had taken a bludger for you and you had nearly lost him. His blood had nearly been on your hands again, the same way in which you blamed yourself for what happened in catacombs all those years ago. It would have been your fault; he had always trusted you to pull him back from the edge, and this time left your heart reeling. How did the saying go? ‘Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me’? Sebastian had put his trust in you on the pitch, trusted you to make sure he survived. What if he hadn’t?
You tried to remind yourself that circling on ‘what ifs’ would never be healthy. He was okay and you were simply exhausted. You just had to keep reminding yourself that everything had worked out, even if the whole situation just made you want to burst into tears.
You pushed yourself from the bench with both hands, closing your locker with a soft click. Your phone buzzed in your hands again, as it had been for the past few hours, but you ignored it, pocketing it in your fleece and making your way into the hallway.
The hospital showed little signs of life for Saturday evening, but you didn’t mind. You didn’t want to be around people right now, other than him. So you made your way back to his room, ensuring you didn’t make eye contact with the few people you did pass. No one seemed to pay much attention to your demeanor. You supposed mostly keeping to yourself had its perks, namely people didn’t notice when you were more withdrawn than usual.
When you did open the door to Sebastian’s room, the thin slit of light from the windows behind you poured in, resting on his face. He was asleep, thankfully. You weren’t sure you had it in you to converse yet, to discuss what had happened, relive every gory detail. You pulled out your phone and turned on the flash light before fully stepping in and shutting the door behind you. Your footfalls were light, and you tried your best not to wake him as you made your way to examine the monitors he was hooked up to. His vitals were satisfactory for the state that he had been in earlier, you could at least be grateful for that fact.
You were careful not to shine the flashlight in his eyes as you set your phone screen down on the table and grabbed a chair, placing it at Sebastian’s bedside. The light from the flashlight filtered over the top half of the room, illuminating only part of the ceiling with dancing shadows. You eased yourself into the chair, hands on both the armrests as you sat, still feeling shaky. You knew the adrenaline was starting to fully wear off.
You weren’t quite sure what you were doing as you reached for Sebastian’s hand, taking it in yours. The line between patient and significant other felt blurred, especially given you were currently alone in a hospital room. You still weren’t quite sure how to behave when no one was watching, but for some reason, this felt right.
Sebastian began to stir and for a moment you were nervous that you had woken him. Instead, a grimace passed over his features and you paused, watching the pain paint itself over his freckled face. He let out a huff of discomfort, chestnut hair shifting on his forehead, and you found yourself reaching into the pocket of your jacket and drawing your wand.
At first you retraced the pattern of his wounds, wand hovering over his chest to ensure that you didn’t miss anything. It took you a few minutes, but you came to the conclusion that your work had been satisfactory. You were about to repocket your wand when you suddenly stopped, a tug pulling your wand until it paused directly over his heart. You had never experienced anything like it. It was like you had hit a snag in magic, something resisting against your attempt to move. You figured it was simply a lapse in attention, a spot you had missed despite your best efforts. It had to be your ancient magic insisting on finishing the job. However, as your eyes fluttered closed to fix it, you startled. Typically, when fixing injuries with ancient magic, the issues highlighted themselves in a faint blue, similar to the pulses of magic you had searched for in the highlands during your teenage years. This magical trace was red, a crimson you thought hard to place. Perhaps it was just exhaustion, but you couldn’t remember. Instead, some voice inside you urged you to pull.
Your wand moved before you had settled on a decision. Suddenly, the crimson red swirl shot towards you, with frightening speed. You heard Sebastian release a sigh of relief before you dropped your wand, the wood clattering on the floor as you simultaneously shot up from your chair.
The realization hit you like a tidal wave, the mixture of fear, acknowledgement, and success at a breakthrough overwhelming. The last time you had seen that red color came flooding back, head spinning as if you had just pulled it from the pensieve, all those years ago.
You had tried to remove Sebastian’s pain, and you had nearly succeeded.
⋆｡°✩
An hour later, you were still sitting there, trying to process what had happened. You had always known that you could remove pain with the same spell that Isidora had, it simply came with the ancient magic abilities. That didn’t mean that you had ever tried to use it, especially not on a living person. No, you had always promised yourself that you would never try to remove pain until you were sure that it wouldn’t lead to more suffering. You had resigned yourself to pouring over books and running thought experiments in an attempt to figure out how to remove pain, but a part of you had always held the belief that you would never truly be able to. You had never, in your wildest dreams, believed that you would actually succeed.
Thankfully, Sebastian seemed fine. The pain had appeared to fall back into his form, retaking its abode in his chest. His painful breathing was, for once, a positive sign. The same couldn’t be said for you. You didn’t know what you should do. Part of you, the part that prided itself on being ethically sound, knew that you should tell him what happened as soon as he woke. He was your patient, and you had taken an extra step in his treatment, one that you couldn’t be sure he would have consented to. He had a right to know.
Another part of you screamed that you shouldn’t. If you did tell him, there was a possibility that he would never forgive you. He would never forgive you for having used the magic on him, after all the times you had refused to try it on Anne. If Sebastian knew that it was possible, that there was an actual possibility of a cure, you weren’t sure he would ever let it be. He could fully slip into the dark prison he had been in at the end of 5th year, the bars of obsession and recklessness in pursuit of his cause clouding his vision. You told yourself you weren't even confident that you could succeed at a full extraction, that this had just been a small amount of pain, not a curse that had ravaged a body for over a decade. You couldn’t tell him. It simply wasn’t the right time.
Sebastian’s POV
Sebastian’s head was pounding as he cracked his eyes open, the darkness of the hospital room coming into focus. “Y/N?” He asked the question softly, as if it was forbidden to wonder if you would be there. He shifted in the sheets slightly, the needle from the IV prodding him uncomfortably.
He let out a shuttering breath when he heard your response.
“I’m here.” He felt you take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’re going to be okay.”
Sebastian hadn’t doubted that fact, not now, not when he was laying on the field, mist gathering at the corner of his eyes from the pain. He had always known you would be able to fix him, his trust in you as strong as when you were teens.
He sat up, taking a shaky breath as his hands pressed into the bed beneath him. You moved swiftly, adjusting his pillows to better support his back. He took the opportunity to look at your face then, really study you. You looked exhausted, worry etched into your face like a carving in stone. “I… thank you.” It was all he could really say, and it would never be enough to repay you for caring about him in a way he didn’t feel like he deserved.
“You don’t have to thank me Sebastian, it’s just another day on the job.” You tried to pull a smile, try to make it clear that you said it in jest, but he knew that it was a lie.
“Still.” He sighed, eyes detaching from your face and instead moving around the room. “So, I suppose I should ask how long you think I need to stay?”
You turned to the monitor, eyes grazing over the numbers that didn’t make any sense to Sebastian. “Well, your vitals are stable. I can talk to Dr. Ridley, but I think she might want to keep you for observation overnight.” You checked your watch then, nodding to yourself. “She should be stopping by in about twenty minutes.”
Sebastian nodded again, thankful that it wouldn’t be too long. He would never admit it outloud, but something about hospitals made his skin crawl slightly. Perhaps it was simply a symptom of having spent too long in them in childhood, watching his sister suffer in silence, but he had never felt at ease in them. He wasn’t quite sure why you willingly spent so long inside of one. “I would like to try to go home, if at all possible.”
You sighed, running a hand through your already messy hair. “I mean, you can ask Sebastian… But I’m not really sure she’ll say yes. Dr. Ridley has a tendency to play it on the safe side.” Sebastian let the argument die in his throat, part of him realizing that it wasn’t you he needed to convince, but rather this Dr. Ridley character. You picked up your phone and began to read something, and Sebastian turned over the thought in his head, which was still quite hazy. He just needed an argument that this Dr. Ridley character would take.
Your POV
By the time that a knock sounded on the door, Sebastian had managed to sit upright, his legs swung over the side of the bed. You knew what he was trying to do, demonstrating that he was fine. You didn’t try to tell him not to, deciding to just let it be.
“Hi Charlotte.” You offered her a smile, hoping that in part you could soften her mood, making the impending argument a bit less vicious. Dr. Ridley didn’t have the pleasure of knowing that arguing with Sebastian Sallow was futile. If Sebastian Sallow had one central trait, it would be his stubbornness. Thus, you sent a silent payer to Merlin that this would be over quickly. She nodded at you, before walking over in front of Sebastian, leaning down to examine him better.
“How are you feeling, Mr. Sallow?” Charlotte asked, hand reaching out to palpate his chest, looking for any wincing. Sebastian, to his best ability, did not react.
“A bit sore, but I feel perfectly ready to go home.” Charlotte let out a sigh, steeling herself for an argument, just as you had expected.
“I should insist that you stay for at least a couple more hours, you certainly look better, but you need medical supervision-”
“Dr. L/N can supervise me, at home.” Sebastian met your eyes then, his searching yours for an answer, just like earlier in the day. You weren’t sure where he had come up with that idea, but you supposed it could be okay. “I assure you, Dr. Ridley, I will be fine,” Sebastian added, a tone of finality in his voice.
Dr. Ridley muttered something to herself about quidditch players and recklessness, before turning to you. “Are you comfortable with that?”
You turned the idea over in your head, before choosing your words carefully. “It should be fine. His injuries have healed and his vitals seem stable. It’s really just pain management at this point, making sure the soft tissues heal well. Besides, you and I both know that I’ll bring him right back if his status worsens.”
Dr. Ridley nodded, studying your face for any sign of a lie. When she found none, she finally resigned to the fact that this was not a situation she could win. “Alright, I’ll sign off on you taking him home. Let me ask the nurse to get the discharge paperwork.”
⋆｡°✩
An hour later, you struggled trying to unlock the door to his flat, while simultaneously supporting his weight. Sebastian was trying his best to mask it, but he was still clearly in pain. Although you still knew that it was best not to tell him what had happened, and that it was good that you hadn’t completed the extraction, a small part of you felt guilty for not just finishing the job.
“It's just a little longer, okay?” You mutter, trying to get alohamora to work. Eventually the magic took hold, and you were able to steer him inside, and onto the couch. Sebastian let out a groan as you lowered him down. You grabbed a couple of the stray pillows he'd had laying around, and stuffed them under his head and back. “Is that better?” You asked, still adjusting them.
“Much. Thank you.” You nodded and stood, making your way to his kitchen to find a glass. While he couldn’t have another full dose of Wiggenweld at this point, a smaller amount would help take the edge off the pain. You poured it carefully, then walked back to the couch, trying your best to not look worried.
“Here. This will take the edge off the pain, hopefully.” Sebastian swallowed it in one gulp, wincing at the taste. Soon enough though, he began to relax, looking significantly more comfortable.
“Better?” You asked, sinking down on the couch next to him, taking care to make sure that your sides didn't touch.
“Much. I… thank you, for everything.” A small smile crossed his face as he looked at you and you took it as a sign of improvement.
“I really should be the one thanking you. You took a bludger for me.” You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. “You… That was quite stupid of you.”
“I would do it again, in a heartbeat.” His smile grew, and suddenly he shifted, lifting his left arm. It clearly took some effort, but he managed to wrap it around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. The action caught you off guard, the idea how comfortable, domestic you felt was slightly overwhelming. You tried to ignore it.
“I didn’t realize you were so chivalrous."
“Always have been, especially for ladies whom I care about.” You resisted the urge to give him a playful shove.
“Ah, so am I just one of your many damsels?” You retorted, and when Sebastian’s face suddenly grew more serious you stiffened, suddenly fearful that you had said something wrong. It was pretty obvious you had issues holding back today.
“No. Only you.” You nodded slowly, as if trying to process the direction this conversation was drifting in. Sebastian broke the silence once again, adding, “and honestly, I like it that way.”
You weren’t sure which one of you moved first, but suddenly you were closer, the space between you limiting with each breath. It was as if instinct was tugging you closer and you couldn’t resist the pull. But when Sebastian suddenly pulled back, a painful yelp leaving his lips, you instantly snapped back to reality.
He was injured. He was injured and you were supposed to be taking care of him, making sure he healed properly. Instead, you had almost let your need, your greed for him get in the way of that duty. You decided it was best to just put some distance between you, moving to stand.
“I…Sorry about that. You really should be laying down.” You moved towards your bag, hating the way that your voice had instantly changed to your physician’s one, your words feeling more confident, less vulnerable. You could barely stand keeping the truth from him, but you just had to keep reminding him that it was for his own good.
“Will you stay?” He asked softly, as if he suddenly feared that not being the case, despite the plan established at the hospital earlier that evening. You had pulled out your phone, beginning to type out a message to Ominis, figuring you should probably update your friends on Sebastian’s status.
“Of course I will. Someone needs to watch you, make you dinner-”
“I mean… overnight. Will you stay here overnight?” You startled at the question, finally turning to look at him.
It was a rare sight to see Sebastian so vulnerable. In all the years you had known him, you had always known him to be the exact opposite. He was head-strong, intelligent, determined, ambitious, and cared deeply about those that he cherished. You knew he needed you. You knew you had to stay, regardless of how horrible you felt.
“I will,” you said, words punctuated as if it was a promise. “Just let me call Ominis and see if he can drop off some of my things.”
You both knew that wasn’t necessary. Not even two nights ago, you had managed just fine with his shirt. But this visit didn’t have the air of surprise the other one did. It was already evening, evidenced by the lack of light pouring into the living room. Besides, you knew it would be easier for you to focus, be professional and ensure that Sebastian was okay if you had your own pajamas. You didn’t think about how sharing a bed would probably negate any walls you did try to throw up, as that was a problem for a few hours from now.
You shot off a text to Ominis, then moved into the kitchen. “What do you have in terms of fixings for dinner? You must be starving by now.”
“You know me too well.” Sebastian joked, a smile crossing his lips.
You couldn’t help but feel the irony, given he really didn’t know you, or what you were capable of, at all.
One time I was at a debate tournament and I had this round against this INCREDIBLY obnoxious guy. He kept interrupting, claiming my arguements were stupid, etc. I, being me, called him out on it. I literally said I wouldn't keep debating him if he kept being so rude.
So I win the round by unanimously vote. This guy has the audacity to come up to me after the round, his poor girlfriend in tow, and say "it was really fun debating you. Most girls don't dare push back against my asshole routine."
My mom literally wrapped an arm around me, and whispered "he's not worth it" in an effort to prevent me from socking another 15 year old in the middle of a crowded room, because I was this close 👌 to doing it.
Anyway, my point is that if this is supposed to be a game where you play as yourself, myself would have 100% done something regrettable in that moment. 15 year old me was quite impulsive.
Y'all ever write a chapter and then sit on it for multiple days? Rethinking every single little detail? Wondering if this is really the right direction to take the story?
No, just me? I'll see myself out...
(Anyway, part 10 of The Fate of Ophelia will be out as soon as I stop over thinking it 😅)
amandla
origamiaround
turnnoffyourmind
theartofmadeline
yousharknotpass
gummygunk
tangentwithtanner
