#𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 — 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮. an independent medical drama themed roleplay blog, featuring: 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗂𝗍𝗍, 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝗒'𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗆𝗒, and various original characters. — est. april 2025.
a study in: the duty of a healer, survivor's guilt, human temptations and connections, the deadly sins.
ACTIVITY NOTICE: i work full time around 48-60 hours a week; therefore, my activity is low, i'm usually online a few hours a week. please bare in mind when you hit the lil' follow button. this blog is also a side passion project and it is not my main blog so i'll be on here even less. but rest assured, i will be and i will love every minutes of it. ♫.
○ inbox. ○ memes. ○ headcanons. ○ promo. ○
rules.
these are going to be really basic. first one is i only write with mutuals, and i'm selective about my mutuals. writing is a passion of mine and i expressive myself through it and i expect the same level of dedication from my writing partners.
i generally don't want my writing partners to be under the age of twenty-one, due to some dark themes that will be on this blog namely including: domestic violence, addiction, self harm, ptsd, medical trauma, character death. if you're a healthcare provider you know this is just the normal day to day, and i will not shy from drawing from my own work into my writing.
chemistry is shipping, and shipping is not just romance. i am obsessed with chosen family and best friend tropes in media, soulmates and everything in between. if you want to ship with my character please don't hesitate. i'm absolutely the most down to ship peson on the planet.
lastly, don't be an ass. i will hardblock you.
muses.
aurora ' rory ' jett. er nurse. ( original character - fc: lucy hale ) single mother, current addict. rory is what you call a high functioning addict, swapping out addictions and in complete denial over the fact that she is an alcoholic. she only attends NA, having used various other drugs in her teenage years. after escaping an abusive grooming situation as a minor, she started her life anew after she found out she was pregnant. ( though her ex is not the father - rory spent a few years meandering as a barista and sought validations through some very messy one night stands ) her daughter, now six years old, is the light of her life. primary.
john ' johnny ' grayson. emt. ( original character - fc: lucien laviscount ) closeted gay and filled with anger towards his father's untimely passing, his father, a young prodigee in law enforcement, rising in the ranks before dying in a shoot out when first responders couldn't stabilise him to get him to the hospital soon enough. and young johnny witnessed it, along with his sister mary. when he's not on shift he's picking up shifts as a bouncer at the local night life, and when he's not doing that, he's pummeling a lot of pent up feelings into a sandbag at the boxing gym. primary.
josephine ' jo ' wilson. obgyn resident. ( grey's anatomy canon divergent - fc: camilla luddington ) after the hell that had been the pandemic, jo had hit rock bottom. unhappy with her life and career, she chose herself, and chose joy, and adopted a little baby whose mother died giving birth to her and left seattle. she's now settled with her new life and her beautiful daughter, luna, who's also been recently diagnosed with progressive hearing loss. and jo does everything she knows how to adapt and be resilient. and create the life she knows she's always wanted for herself and her daughter. secondary.
trinity santos. em intern. ( isa briones ) the divisive troublemaker who stands out among her peers. trinity always stands out. all eyes are on her, and she realised she likes it that way. she must get the last move, last word, last laugh, and if she falls ? she takes it to the chin and keeps going. everything is carefully packed behind a carefully constructed wall of sarcasm and wit and muscles built from contact sport. and she'll be damned if anyone sees through it or even understands her. she's here to win. secondary.
have i fallen off the first of the earth ? yes but for good reason. since it's unofficial, i'll officially put this blog on hiatus till mid september until i'm done with this exam.
rory is cold, but her skin is ablaze. every inch of her body aches, yearning, craving, that calm she'd desperately succumbed to ... hours ago ? days ago ? right now it feels like years. she's curled up so tightly into herself, eyes squeezes shut as she drowns out the endless beeping. it never bothered her before, before it was soothing. it meant someone was alive and they were fighting to stay that way, right now all it is is a reminder. you fucked up. you fucked up, rory.
outside the glass doors, footsteps come and go. and none of them dare to come in, she's again all alone. her eyes scan and search desperately but she can't see luca anywhere. she almost wants to rip the iv and wires off her and go look for him herself, but she doesn't want him to see her like this. all she can think about is the absolute dread that will be the fallout, the soul crushing shame as she tells herself over and over again, i'm not an addict, it was an accident, i didn't mean it. singing songs of denial so they're practiced enough she hopes they sound like some kind of truth. but how truthful can they be when she knows just a few feet away is the medications cart. and she knows the code.
the door hisses as it slides open and her heart rate picks up when she realises it's @bychuck, he was the first voice she heard in a haze of agony and overwhelming feelings of sick when she came to. his hands made her face him, look at him, as the blur of red and blue became those abhorrent white fluorescent lights. she was suddenly surrounded by so many people. before she became so horribly alone. but that didn't matter, frank was back now. ❝ it was an accident, i didn't mean it. ❞ rory blurts out in a panic immediately as she tries to scramble to the edge of the bed, ❝ you told them that, right ? it was an accident. because no one's been in here and there are cops outside and i know what they're thinking but i swear it was an accident and i need them to know that. ❞ rory doesn't stop, she can't stop, her hands shake as she pushes against the bed to try and stumble onto the floor. she needs them to know. she needs frank to know. but she can't stop thinking about the damn cart.
rory pushes around a few waffle pieces in her plate, practically swimming in syrup and butter. they've become sort of routine, a staple of her entire week, she's convinced herself she's become more regular showing up to these meetings because of the promise of free waffles and endless coffee offered by @bychuck . the truth is, and she'd rather be dead than admit it out loud, is that she's lonely. her world feels small, so damned small. her bubble seems to close in around her, day in and day out. she hoped moving would help, but she's never felt further away from everything she's known. even luca seems so far out of her reach, when she's pulling doubles and arranging sleepovers to make sure he's taken care of, bending over backwards to provide for him that she feels like everything is monotone. so this .... this feels nice. and the bobby asks, how's work ? and rory feels her appetite disappear.
❝ we got a few more kids in the emergency room the other day. ❞ rory starts, her voice a little fallen as she breaks of a piece into tinier pieces and she closes her eyes. ❝ two of them came back. no side effects, discharged same day. ❞ rory pauses as she chews on the inside of her lip and sets the fork down, ❝ the other one's still intubated in the icu. her parents don't want to let her go. ❞ rory presses her chin into her palm as she debates her next words carefully, minces and dices until she settles on the blatant, ugly truth, ❝ i'm almost jealous. they come in everyday. and every day i see their faces fall a little more, and i'm jealous. because they keep showing up. ❞ rory presses her lips into her palm as she laughs, ❝ is that the most fucked up thing you've ever heard ? ❞
today i met my friend's four months old baby. he did NOT feel like meeting new people today, but he only calmed down when he put both his entire fists inside his mouth. tldr; same kid. i love you
dragged out groan leaves his throat, a sound somewhere between snarl and whine as he tips his head back. he heard it once that this isn't the ideal move. that the blood could choke you out. he tastes the iron on the back of his throat and swallows it down. " nah, i'm fucking counting stars over here, " he hisses at her, sarcasm clouding his tone, hand cupped over his own nose as he keeps his head back.
fucker got one good swing at him. he never minds the bruised knuckles and soreness after a brawl, his body is built for it. he feels right at home, limping into his bed in the morning and crashing until muscles have the chance to start patching themselves up. but a bloody nose is highly inconvenient. doesn't feel broken -- he's had that a few times and it hurt like a motherfucker. " will you get me a towel from the bar or somethin' ? "
there's always a familiar violence satiating the air of the comb. violent desires, violent needs. broken glass, cold steel, sweaty hands that get too greedy and the violence becomes explicit, breaks all the rules and becomes apparent for everyone to see. she's so used to it, blood trickling, bones cracking, skin coloured black and blue. she almost thinks she's addicted to it, craves it just as much as does the little white lines before baring herself under the electric glow. that doesn't mean rory enjoys it though.
her lips are set grimly as she pulls the robe tighter around her body and tightens the loose knot, but kit makes it harder to stay concerned, making his bleeding nose sound like an inconvenience more than an actual injury. ❝ yeah ? d'you see a broken nose in your horoscope today ? ❞ she's long discarded her heels for the night, padding over to the bar to retrieve a clean towel and a bag of ice before she plops down on the loveseat next to kit, ❝ you're supposed to lean forward. ❞ rory instructs as she nudges his elbow he can move his hand out of the way.
addictions wasn't something new to nadia - she'd overcome her own, as much as one can. especially in the time that had passed. she did the program - thanks to her sister, well, not biological. but erin lindsay was every bit a sister & more, than someone nadia could've grown up with. sitting next to the woman she'd seen a few places before na. they'd even gone out for coffee once. but nadia notices that she's looking more tired than usual, so she walks up to grab a coffee ( even though it's the very cheap stuff ) for her friend, gently passing the cup along. "the little one keeping you up?"
rory tucks herself as far away as possible from the podium, hoping no one would see, or ask. she's got no chips, and her story is not one she wants to share. she's cheating, she knows, she's not really an addict. she's stopped, or so she tells herself, since she had luca. but there's a comfort, when her feet float her over to the church's basement once or twice every couple of weeks. listening to people and believing more and more she's not as badly off as she thinks she is. it's twisted to be comforted by others' struggles but rory thinks she's had her fair share. so when she's near dozing off at the far corner of the room, she thinks no one notices, but nadia does.
rory pushes against the floor to sit up straighter and offers nadia a grateful smile as she reaches for the paper cup, hiding her distaste at the cheap coffee as she holds it up close to her lips, at least it smells like coffee. rory stiffly shakes her head and smiles as she thinks of her son's sweet face, ❝ no, no .. luca's an angel. ❞ she's quick to defend as she shrugs one shoulder, ❝ it's the work. it's...grimmer than usual, lately. it gets harder to leave it all inside the hospital when i go home and then i end up not sleeping as much as i'd like, which is not a lot to begin with. ❞ rory spills, uninvited, as she silences herself quickly with a gulp of coffee flavoured water. she looks over to nadia again, ❝ you look better than i do, you're gonna have to tell me your secret. ❞
major writing fog lately kiddos. even having a hard time plotting in private BUT i promise i will return to bug you all very soon and get all those starters.
a downpour when he's on call? even dana knows not to push too many buttons. it was always eery in the er floor, these days. abnormally quiet at first, while people held back from coming in for any small flu symptom or minor wound; and subsequently too busy after a few hours of storm, when the results of the rain started to come in. the pileup on the highway had kept him overtime when they almost lost a patient.
his expectations for the evening are low -- silence, washing off the day from his skin, finishing the mediocre book he's reading, crashing early. the figure shivering by his front door is not on the list.
he pauses, still two steps below her, legs suddenly too heavy to carry him into the safety of the awning. weeks had gone by without seeing her. the ache in his chest had grown and grown, sunk its teeth into his heart and gnawed on it for days, and then enough time had passed that it had subsided. robby had shoved the pain somewhere else. behind a closed door, under the bed, just like every other one. he had to keep living, somehow. they'd never promised to be more than a fling, a casual thing between two consenting adults, so he accepted it, when the distance between them started to grow. embraced it far too eagerly, even, as a man no stranger to self-punishment.
now he stares, for a beat too long, the rain pattering over his jacket insistently enough that its waterproof qualities are starting to wane. he's so tired. of this -- the emotional turmoil, the way they keep pushing and pulling at each other, the way that even now, he can't step any closer because he'll fall into her gravitational pull. " what are you doing here, jo ? " his tone comes out accusatory, loud enough to be heard over the rain around them.
when jo sees him, it's a shock to the system, adrenaline rush and dopamine high kicking her withdrawals of him to the curb all at once, and why does she even feel that way ? she's not ashamed to admit, it had been nice to have someone to wake up to, to share coffee with, to casually chatter and banter and talk about her day with. the fact that they worked in the same place, in the same field, should have been an added bonus. as time passed he faded but she missed him, like there was a physical space reserved over her shoulder for his hovering heigh, or a pocket of her mind waiting to be occupied by all his thoughts and musings that had now been an empty cavity jo hadn't been able to fill. she's so bitterly emptied by him, and she wants fill that emptiness with ... what ? closure ? understanding ? she's here for something.
jo would have recoiled at his accusation if she felt it was deserved, instead she takes a step to even the heigh difference and close a little space, they're still too far apart for her liking. another scoff, this time more exaggerated, her arms helplessly flap and thump at her sides as the soaked sleeves cling to her skin, ❝ what am i doing here ?! ❞ she repeats, just as loud, if not louder, screaming over the heavenly rage of rain as it pours down on them. she repeats the question because she has no answer for it. she only has questions, many questions, and jo doesn't even know where to start. her face mirrors the stern set of his , and she looks anywhere but directly at him. she wants to pull him under the awning and push him as far away as possible at the same time, ❝ where the hell have you been, robby ?! ❞
that's where she starts, and it's just as accusatory. she knows where he's been, at work, at his place, occupied, busy, far away from her. casual never meant this, it never meant she'd spent every moment looking over her shoulder hoping he'd appear, or gathering every morsel of restraint to stave herself off from taking a trip down to the ER, or sending off any other resident to answer pitt pages on days she knew robby was on shift ( and she'd gone out of her way to know when he was on shift ) it was juvenile, at best, that she'd taken so many calculated steps to avoid him only to just end up at his front door.
still, she rears her defenses and pulls her shoulders back to appear taller, like there isn't a weight that would crush her any moment as she dances around the question she wants to ask the most. ❝ if you wanted this over then at least give me the courtesy of properly doing it. because i want to know why. i think i deserve just as much. ❞
this is stupid, jo can't help but think. so very stupid. and to top it all off, it's pouring, and the awning has hardly kept much of the rain off her. she wanted change, and moved to a city with only an inch less rainfall than seattle, what a joke. this, also, is a joke. and jo has only worked up enough determination to leave and let the rain be her punishment for attempting something so stupid, before it all fizzles and she stays hugging the entrance to @revcric's home, waiting for him to return.
she's not exactly sure what she's hoping to get out of this juvenile maneuver, what is she thinking is going to happen, suddenly showing at robby's door, knowing he's probably tired, wiped from the day shift where the news covered the unexpected downpour incessantly, and the chaos that came after. she can only imagine the mayhem that had been every single emergency room in the city today. the last time she's properly seen him ... had been weeks ago, and since then they had been terribly out of sync, and jo's convinced it's by design, and she wants to know why.
why does she want to know ? well, she couldn't even figure that out. all she knows is that she's cancelled a few nights, and perhaps her schedule became too grueling for casual pitt-stops, and suddenly he's a ghost, worse, she's the ghost. and she's thinking, if they were ending this casual entanglement then at least she deserves to know why. her head leans out from behind the railings as hurried steps splash against the pavement and she quickly shakes off the cold and excess water from her hands and sleeves as she lets her arms thump at her sides, ❝ you never really clock out when you're supposed too, huh ? i've been waiting for almost an hour. ❞ and that's not exactly his fault, she's the one who's dropping in unannounced, but she's not about to easily admit she's been worried something happened to him in the short commute between the hospital and his place.
❝oh, trust me, i’m okay now. luna started getting a fever yesterday so that gives me about …. 36 hours. ❞. jo gauges the hours before the flu strikes her down, for now, she’s persevering. she’d stayed up all night soothing her daughter and managing her fever and it’d been her greatest triumph and joy luna had skipped right out of her hand to join her new friends in daycare. jo, though ? she’s not so lucky. already a few shades paler, she’s clinging to the counter rather than leaning on it as she jots down a few notes on her morning round patients.
her interns and first years have already been sent off on a myriad of tasks while she prepares the list of today’s theater work, but the letters are dancing on the page, her mouth is dry, and she’s fighting the deep desire to press her cheek into the cool nurse station counter. of course, that’s when robby had shown up, when she feels like a sagging bag of aching bones, and visibly looks like it too.
jo props her cheek lazily into her palm as she gazes up at robby, shoulders slumped, eyes glazed over with exhaustion, not the greatest way to start 24 hour stretch on the floor, although she can’t help the fond pout of her lower lip as she nudges his foot with her toe, ❝ please tell me you have any form of caffeine on you right now. ❞
dana had been the one to tell on jo, always the watchful eye from the hospital's main entrance. robby had barely strolled past the nurse's station and she'd told him, out of the corner of her mouth, she's not looking so hot today.
naturally, he makes his way up to her floor as soon as he's managed to send his students and residents off on their runs. he spots her immediately -- and today, it is less any romantic inclination to say his eyes will always find her, and more the fact that medically trained eyes will always spot a figure slouching and holding onto a counter for dear life. he approaches with such prominent crease between his brows, that he might be giving himself a new wrinkle.
" and luna's okay now? " there is genuine concern to know, but the question comes out almost distractedly, as his hand reaches for her. back of his knuckles press gently agaist her temple, then cheek. her skin feels warm already. his lips are pressed on a thin line when he pulls back.
it's not his place to run a lecture, but you can't take the teacher out of the man. " thirty-six minutes seems more right, " stern look is sent her way. " i'll get you coffee, if you get your ass back home and into bed. what's your thought process here, spreading a virus all over the floor? "
oh no, he's already frowning. jo groans internally, her head falling onto her shoulder as she keeps him within the rafters of her lashes heavily occluding her vision. she's ready to jump to her own defense, but his hand feels so cool against her skin and she can't help it, she leans a little into him, ❝ yes. she's bounced right back. she'll be okay. ❞ then he pulls back, and jo pulls at the counter, blinking furiously to focus her vision and press her elbow onto the counter as she looks up at him. she doesn't cave under the stern look, though jo thinks it's cute he thinks she will. she lets the pen plop dramatically down onto the counter as her fingers intertwine and cage over her abdomen while listening to robby's lecture, her eyes pull into an offended squint as she scoffs a little.
❝ okay, let's not make a big deal out of the sniffles. ❞ jo complains as she holds her palm up to assuage robby's concerns, ❝ i'm working gyne this month so no babies. and half the floor has already been out sick this month. if anything, it's a miracle i lasted this long. ❞ jo's quick to rationalise poorly when she knows robby's probably right, she's not twenty anymore, she can't knock back cough syrup, dry her head right up, and crash, because she doesn't get to crash any more, not really. not with luna at home. she can tell robby's not convinced, she's not so convinced herself. but she's right, she knows she's right. thirty-six hours is just the amount of time she'll be functional for before the flu completely takes over. and she's not going to just lay in bed until it does.
❝ come on, robby, don't look at me like that. ❞ she whines as she finally lets go of her death grip on the counter, when she's sure enough her feet will hold her up. ❝ i'm fine. i'll be even more fine once i have some coffee. ❞ she pauses, and holds his gaze long enough hoping he'd cave, ❝ if you come with me to get it i'll get you one too even though i know you've already had one and it's hardly 10 am. ❞
