night of the doctor au

note: each section () is listed from newest to oldest



100 ways to say I love you
— angst | fluff

october prompts
— fluff




 charm me 
— gryffindor!jin | smut 




nude wars (ft. jungkook)
— frat!yoonkook | smut | fluff 
↠ pt1 :: (ongoing)

 hidden stars (ft. jungkook)
— angst | smut | fluff 
pt1 :: pt2 :: pt3 :: pt4 :: pt5 :: + (complete)

 lab partners (ft. jimin)
— high school au | smut
pt1 :: pt2 :: pt3 :: (complete)


 makeshift chemistry 
— college au | smut 

 fantasies (ft. jimin) 
— incubi!yoonmin | smut


red :: 01

 taste (ft. taehyung) 
— poly!taegi | smut




 the purge 
— purger!hoseok | angst | gore
pt1 :: pt2 :: pt3 :: pt4 :: (ongoing) 




 ships in the night 
— idol au | smut | angst | fluff




 doctor dreamy 
— expecting parents au | fluff | angst | smut  
pt1 :: pt2 :: (ongoing) 

 future hearts (ft. jungkook) 
— punk!jikook | angst | smut | fluff
pt1 :: pt2 :: pt3 :: pt4 :: pt5 :: pt6 :: (ongoing)


— smut 

lab partners (ft. yoongi)
— high school au | smut

 fantasies (ft. yoongi)
— incubi!yoonmin | smut




 loving him, loving her 
— best friend au | angst | smut 
pt1 :: (ongoing) 


 the t-shirt thief 
— idol au | smut | fluff

under the cloak 
— gryffindor!taehyung | smut


• taste (ft. yoongi)
— poly!taegi | smut 




nude wars (ft. yoongi)
— frat!yoonkook | smut | fluff
pt1 :: (ongoing)

• future hearts (ft. jimin)
— punk!jikook | angst | smut | fluff
pt1 :: pt2 :: pt3 :: pt4 :: pt5 :: pt6 :: (ongoing) 

• I hate you, I love you 
— best friend au | angst | smut
pt1 :: pt2 :: + :: (complete)

• hidden stars (ft. yoongi)
— idol au | angst | smut | fluff 
pt1 :: pt2 :: pt3 :: pt4 :: pt5 :: + :: (complete) 


— college au | angst | smut

• cold coffee 
— smut

 painting the meadow’s void 
— soulmate au | fluff


• slytherin!jungkook 
— harry potter au | smut

• tease 
— idol au | smut


Bendy: “Welcome everyone to m-”

G. Freddy: *cough*

Bendy: “OUR Arcade and Dinner. Take a seat and we’ll send someone to take your order.”

((So, this is an ask blog for really a bunch of indie horror characters, and some ocs who in this AU run an Arcade/dinner called: Scream n’ Feast. I will add more characters in the future, and will probably change the current design for Boris. I Will also take some I guess… ‘Artistic liberties’ with the definition of indie horror, but this is just something I wanted to do for a little while. So, thanks to anyone who reads this and the ask box is always open.))

Seven Nights at the Sky View Inn | Sunday

[ao3] [ff]

Thanks to @joe-the-lion, @momentary-ecstasy, @confusedanon

Part 1 | Sunday

The drop of sweat started at her hairline, gathered momentum and volume as it coursed down the center of her nose, and hung at the end for a moment before dropping two stories—

—onto the doctor’s forehead.

“Is—this—the Sky View Inn?” Abby asked, wiping their mingled sweat off her face.

“It will be,” called Raven, kicking her feet out and using her gloved hands to slide down the ladder. She turned, removing one glove and extending her hand. “Hi,” she said, “I’m Raven.”

“Abby, Dr. Griffin. I have a reservation?”

Raven smiled.

“But call me Abby.” Between the heat and the breeze, the unexpected un-done-ness of the hotel and Raven’s smile, her worn jeans and dirty white v-neck with rolled up sleeves, Abby found her mouth unusually dry. “Can I buy a bottle of water?”

“Nope, but I’ll buy you one,” said Raven, “Come inside.”

“There’s an inside?”

“Yeah, I started on the far corner. Follow me.”

They crossed through the concrete skeleton of what once was—or once was intended to be—a two-story courtyard hotel—or apartment building, it wasn’t complete enough to be clear. They stepped inside the finished part.

Inside, at the far corner, stood a tiny bell desk on one side of a partition and a tiny bar on the other. A ceiling fan vaguely stirred the potted palm fronds.

“This is temporary,” Raven said, indicating the makeshift reception area. “But my unit is just there, and the unit above is the one on AirBnB. One bottle of water, ma’am. Nice and cold.”

The bottle frosted, and as the doctor held it, sweat rolled down its side, as her own beaded and flowed. She downed the water, eyes closed, and opened them on Raven’s smiling appraisal.

“Raven, what is this place?”

“I don’t know you well enough yet,” Raven teased, “Just sign in, and I’ll show you to your room. Bags?”

“Hmmm, old school sign-in?” Abby shook her head. “Just the daypack. Not planning on formal dining,” murmured Abby.

Raven took the daypack and led the way up the polished concrete stairs. She keyed open the door—also old school—and placed the daypack on the bed next to the towel sculpture.

“What is that?” said Abby.

“A turtle, obviously,” Raven replied. It wasn’t. It was a platypus, but Raven’s handiness did not extend to towel sculptures. She’d like to get hold of whoever started the expectation of towel sculptures in the first place.

“Will you be joining me for dinner?”

“I’d love to,” said Abby, “when, where, and what’s on the menu?”

“Six, al fresco, includes a tour, tour meets in our beautiful courtyard, and… uh… barbecue pork tacos. And… tequila? All inclusive.”

“Margaritas? Sure. Frozen or on the rocks?”

“You’re kidding, right? Shaken, not whirred.”

“It sounds perfect. I’ll see you in the—courtyard—at six.” Abby reached into her pocket.

Raven shook her head, saying, “All-inclusive,” and backed out of the room, striking her arm on the doorjamb. She swallowed her expletive hard.

“Are you okay?” asked Abby from the other side of the door.

“Yep, yep, yes I am,” said Raven, working her jaw and rubbing her elbow. Then, making certain that nobody could see her, she smacked the back of her hand against her forehead. She headed back to familiar territory, pulling herself up the ladder with her arms and one leg, to work on the upper front room for a bit until it was time to wash up and ready dinner.

Raven hated hanging wallboard with the kind of passion reserved for soulmates or arch-enemies. Ceilings even more so. So she’d taken a page from her ship’s mechanic days and had fashioned narrow, lightweight, soundproof panels from salvaged aluminum and rigid foam that she could install with just a few screws. She installed a few in the ceiling of the second-floor unit she’d been working on when the doctor had arrived.

She wondered if it had been a good idea to let out rooms before the entire building was complete. The doctor was clearly accustomed to more comfortable surroundings, but she also seemed very willing to go along. Raven appreciated her flexibility.

When she had finished installing the remaining ceiling panels in room 210, Raven climbed down the ladder to the outdoor shower, stripped to her bikini, showered, and dressed for dinner—cutoffs and a tank top. She grilled the pork and packed the picnic basket just in time to meet Abby, who—


But never mind that, Raven reminded herself. The doctor being her first BnB customer, Raven needed to be professional.

Buenas tardes,” Raven said, smiling, strictly business.

Buenas tardes.” Abby’s grin lit up the courtyard like the sunset sky above.

“I thought you might like a little ocean view with your dinner on your first night. I call it the Sky View for a reason, but we have a small beach access easement with Luna’s Ocean View across the road.”

Abby’s eyes crinkled, and she nodded. “Let me take something,” she said, reaching out.

Raven shook her head. “All-inclusive, remember?”

“I’m a doctor. Helping is what I do.”

“You’re on vacation.”

Abby stood with one arm extended and the other akimbo. She opened and closed her outstretched hand. Raven opened and closed her mouth, then shrugged and handed Abby the blanket.

“Let’s go, then,” she said. “Careful crossing, though, people drive like maniacs here—even though they’re on island time.”

Abby nodded. They crossed.

“That’s it. That’s the tour,” said Raven.

Abby brought her empty hand to her mouth, but the lines by her eyes revealed her amusement.

Abby waited until they had spread the blanket out on the sand and laid out the food to ask, “Island time? Is that why the Sky View is expanding one room at a time?”

Raven laughed. “No,” she said, serving Abby. “Barbacoa tacos, guacamole, y—margherita simple.”

Salud.” Abby raised her glass.

Salud,” Raven toasted—and drained half the glass. What?

Abby noticed, but sipped a bit, then bit into one of her tacos. “Umph… this is delicious,” she gasped between bites.

“Glad you like it, cuz I can grill but not a lot else,” said Raven.

“You can build a hotel from scratch.”

“Nah, I’m just doing the easy part.”

Abby softly smiled.

They faced east, away from the setting sun, as the sky filled with orange and pink. The waves surged and receded, filling the silence as they ate. At last, Abby turned toward Raven and waited.

“We don’t often get people traveling alone here,” said Raven, after a few moments, not looking at her.

“I imagine not.”

Surf intervened as a few pink clouds pointed at some far off vanishing point. Raven let the doctor sink into her thoughts.

Since high school Raven’s crew had talked about wanting to buy a big place and live together. They had seen what was going on. There was no way in hell any of them would be able to afford a house—or even an apartment—anywhere they would want to live. And Raven—having bounced between distant relatives while her mom was drying out, or in jail, or on a bender—for her the dream had provided a focal point, for years.

And when she’d seen the hurricane-ravaged concrete skeleton of a building—again and again as her ship made stops in Cozumel—she promised herself she would find out what it would take to buy and fix that funky property.

What it took was a buttload of ships’ contracts, eating shitty food, working shitty hours, and sleeping in shitty quarters—better hours, work, and quarters than the food service crew, but considerably worse than the entertainment crew, and infinitely worse than the headliners.

Finn was a headliner, a juggling comedian, and one of the youngest to make headliner. And everybody was working and drinking and fucking themselves—and each other—into oblivion, to handle the work and the food and the quarters. Why not fuck the guy with the best quarters? Problem with that was falling for him.

While he fell for that blonde passenger.

“He died.”

“He died?”

“Yes, my husband died a year ago this week. That’s why I’m here alone.”

“I—I’m so sorry, I—”

“It’s okay. I mean it’s not okay, but I’m beginning to get used to it. I guess. Anyway…”


“I should help clean up and let you get on with your night.”

“No, Abby, relax. It’s a big deal to lose someone you love. And anniversaries can really—suck—so… be comfortable, relax, hang out with me if you want, or don’t, whatever feels right, and—I don’t know, do what you need to.”

Abby smiled. “Let’s just sit for a bit.”

“All right.”

“Then I’ll help you clean up.”

Pink and orange crawled across the sky, and the clouds broke up a little into fish scales.

“‘Mackerel sky, mackerel sky, little bit wet, little bit dry’,” quoth the Raven.

“Looks like salmon to me,” said Abby.

“Yeah, it does.”

The wind picked up a little across the beach. Raven, moving slowly, picked up the picnic and put it in the basket.

Then, without asking, she unfurled a second, thinner, blanket that had been tucked into the basket’s lid. She tucked it around Abby as Abby’s hair whipped about her face.

Their eyes met, Abby’s glassy, Raven’s soft.

“Thank you,” said Abby, barely audible above the waves.

Raven just smiled and sat back down next to her.

Finn would arrive mid-week one week and leave mid-week the next, so the cruise line would get a comedian for two cruises but only paid him for one week. He stayed in a suite, above the waterline, with a balcony. He was cute and charming and one of the few comedians who was actually funny. He saw past her jumpsuit and the smudges on her face and sought her out belowdecks after her shift.

It was easy to say yes, especially when one of her roommates had hung a sock on the doorknob.

So, he’d be on the ship and gone, on the ship and gone. Easy to keep it light and fun. He’d bring her drinks and order room service—fucking filet mignon—but they couldn’t go out together because of crew rules. And because of the hours she had to keep. And of all the guys—and gals—she’d slept with, he was one she could actually sleep with.

Until he met—her.

“You’re shivering,” said Abby, “Here, there’s plenty,” and she draped part of the blanket over Raven.

Raven startled. “Oh, ha, you’re very kind, I couldn’t poss—”


And they stayed there in the breeze until a squall started pelting them with raindrops.

“We should go in,” said Raven, and she stood. Abby took the blanket they’d been sitting under and folded it precisely. Raven motioned for her to go upwind. She picked up the blanket they’d been sitting on and started shaking it just as the wind shifted and blew the sand right into their faces.

“Of fucking course,” sputtered Raven, “Shit shit shit! Story of my life!” trying to brush the sand off Abby’s face with a corner of the offending blanket, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

Abby carefully picked the sand out of the corners of her eyes. “Here, let me.”

She took the blanket from Raven, flicked the corner to knock any remaining grit off, and brushed off both their faces.

“Stand clear,” said Abby, and she repositioned herself upwind. Raven stood behind her. Abby held the blanket out at arms’ length and shimmied it until most of the sand fell off. “Close your eyes and mouth,” she warned. She shook the hell out of it.

Raven giggled, “you’re good at that!”

“Mad skills,” said Abby gravely, “from years of experience,” the corners of her mouth unsure whether to turn up or down. She folded the blanket. “So many, many years.”

Raven laughed out loud at that.

Abby stopped suddenly. “What?”

“Why are you acting like you’re old?”

“Old enough to be your mother.” Abby shrugged.

“Nope, I refuse to believe it. Besides, my mother’s not allowed at the Sky View.”

“So glad I’m not your mother.”

“Me too.”

They crossed back over the road.

“One day, I’ll have a little footbridge over here,” said Raven.

“I adore your ambition. You really are dauntless.”

“Wouldn’t go that far. But I do work for what I want.”

“And what is that?” Abby’s eyes crinkled.

“Bar’s open til 2. Come in, have a drink.” Raven tipped her head.

Abby hesitated.

“Or not. You’ve had a long day.”

That’s when the bottom dropped out of the clouds. In seconds, the downpour drenched them both. Abby squeezed her eyes shut. Her shoulders shook. She was— laughing?

Raven grabbed her free hand.

“Come on! It’s a flood! Let’s get to the Ark before it’s too late!”

They ran all out, all the way back to the bar, laughing.

“Actually,” said Abby, “I believe I will have a drink.”

Abby changed and Raven laid a fire.

“You’re soaked. Don’t you want to change?”

Raven froze. Change? Into what? Dry clothes. Dry clothes. Not a bad idea.

Raven smiled a crooked smile and nodded. It would be smart to get the grit out of her brace anyway. She took a few moments to decide but ended up with a dry version of what she’d been wearing. Just so she didn’t call attention to the new outfit. And anyway, she didn’t have the shorts and Hawaiian shirt with a golden nameplate uniform of the Caribbean. Thankfully.

When Raven returned, Abby had the fire blazing. She turned to Raven proudly, talking to someone on the phone.

Raven nodded and began making another pair of drinks.

Abby raised one finger and stepped out of the room, her voice dropping to a rough whisper.

Raven caught herself trying to eavesdrop, then tried not to. She proceeded to shake the everloving hell out of that margarita, drowning out the escalating voice in the courtyard.

When Abby returned, Raven was just planting the pink umbrellas into the salted glasses.

“You missed my bartender show,” said Raven.

Abby smiled, reaching for her glass.

“To the Sky View,” she said.

Raven blushed. “To the Sky View.”

They touched the rims of their glasses together and drank.

“Would you join me? In front of the fire I so handily lit?”

“That was supposed to be my job,” scolded Raven. Then she found she couldn’t stop herself from smiling.

They sat together in silence for a few moments, staring at the fire.

“Was Hospitality something you always wanted?” said Abby.

“Hmmmm…” demurred Raven, “more like Home. A place to be home and give others a home.”

Abby smiled.

“Your profile said you worked on cruise ships for a decade.”

“You looked!”

Abby blushed.

“Mechanic. I’m really good at it. Paid better than Hotel or Retail. It was all eyes on the prize.”

“And this is the prize?”

“Haha, yes! Can’t you tell?”

Abby sank back into the sofa. “Pretty impressive.”

“Said the Doctor, who is considerably more impressive.”

“Yes, I am a doctor, and I’m good at it, but my family encouraged me and supported me. And I always had a home.”

“And your prize?”

Abby thought for a few moments.

“I guess— well, I guess I lost her… when I lost him.”

“Wow. Is it time for another?”

“One more. But then I must sleep. Are you going to do your bartender show for me?”

“I lied. I don’t have a bartender show.”

“You could have,” teased Abby.

“Not with this much tequila in me,” grinned Raven.

She made the drinks, and they toasted again and drank.

“Who’d you lose?” said Raven.

Abby smiled weakly. “Who’d you lose?”

Raven sipped. “Never really had anyone to lose,” she said.

Rain poured down onto the metal roof, drowning the silence between them. In a few moments, the squall passed.

“I think you’re lying again.”


“When my husband died, and it was very sudden, I just retreated. I crawled into myself. We could have clung together, my daughter and I, but really I just abandoned her. And she ended up leaving.”

“Just like a telenovela, huh?”

“Almost exactly.”

“I had a boyfriend on the ship. For awhile. Then he fell for a pretty blonde.”

Abby took Raven’s hand.

“I have a very serious question for you,” Abby said.

Raven’s forehead creased. “Okay.”

“If I were to help you,” said Abby, “could we get another room ready? For my daughter?”


Episode Drabble Challenge: 5.02 100 words

Lucien settled into the sofa beside Jean, a book in his hand. Still working on her knitting she moved closer to him.

He perused through the text. “Jean…”


“Did you hear anything odd upstairs last night?”

She fumbled on the stitch, she sighed unraveling part of it, “Yes. I did.”

“Do you know what it was?”

“Rose leaving Charlie’s room.”

His eyebrows climbed into his hairline, “Rose?”

Eyes fixed on her work, she nodded.

“How did you know it was Rose?”

“I saw them in the hallway.”

“What were doing in the hallway in the middle of the night?”


Okay, I would like to start this by saying I have so much respect for you guys. I mean honestly, you guys fuel fandoms. If it wasn’t for you, when a show or game or comic etc ends, it ends. Like finished, finite, done, most likely never coming back, but then YOU come along and we get headcanons, backstories, AUs, and so many other glorious things that we forget the actual thing is over! Like, there are times when I’m reading a fanfiction, and I forget it’s a fanfiction. I’ll be reading this work, and it feels like a book. I forget that it’s most likely a teenager writing a story on a sharing forum for the enjoyment of others and when I finally remember it I’m shocked! Can we also talk about how YOUNG most of you are!? Like wowie, you guys are so incredibly talented and a fair amount of you are teens. And, for the other side, I’m amazed at the adults writing fanfics! You guys have lives, children, jobs, and yet you still find time to write and be passionate and give joy to your audiences. Did I mention you have AUDIENCES?! People follow you for your fics, they message you, become friends with you, and genuinely enjoy you as a person because you wrote something on a whim and they liked it. That’s amazing! Not only that, but some of you make playlists to go with your writing, you take the time to make sure the readers are comfortable, and then when we praise you, you’re bashful. People love you guys and you’re so sweet when replying to us. You get fanbases over your writings, AUs on top of your AU, and so much more. You guys are actually fantastic. Just the fact that you can continue working on something for 20+ chapters astounds me, I can barely make it past 5 when I’m writing! 

I just wanted to make this post to praise the fanfiction writers that grace our fandoms with their talent, for it is truly a talent indeed. Give yourself a pat on the back, because y’all are amazing and you deserve every bit of praise you get. 

BTS + Doctors AU

↳ Min Yoongi: Pathology

• “Tell Doctor Min that he has a frozen section procedure.” “No, you tell him.” “Fuck, you tell him.”
• Even consultants were scared of him back when he was a resident.

Logic Where No Logic Goes

Soulmates, Dr. Uchiha Itachi thought warily to himself as he finished printing off the consultation notes, were nothing but a total disaster waiting to happen and a disease to be treated. With a sigh, he wheeled around in his chair, nabbed his white coat from where he had tossed it in the corner of his consultation room, and rushed off to his evening rounds.

To be quite honest, he didn’t need to rush- evening rounds were always the same old cases in psychiatry, considering how they had the same patients on ward day after day. He thought he was going to do some good as a psychiatrist (something that was still a bit of a sort point in family reunions, considering how the Uchiha line is practically a clan of surgeons, of all things), but it took him five full years in psychiatry to realize that in fact, he wasn’t doing anyone any good.

He had always been a smart child, growing up; genetics favored him, and he grew up pointing at colored diagrams in his mother’s old and worn copy of Netter’s Atlas of Human Anatomy. He spelled out body parts with his alphabet soup and correctly guessed his cousin’s, diagnosis of ADHD five minutes after meeting him for the first time. However, it was only until he began following his father around in the hospital during the summers (well, he had to put something on that résumé) that he realized the truth of the medical world… perhaps more accurately, the world that is general surgery. Dr. Uchiha Fugaku is a renowned hepatobiliary surgeon and nephew to Dr. Uchiha Madara, the chief of service of surgery at Konoha hospital. And Itachi happened to be related to both of them.

Given that medicine is practically in his blood (sooner or later, he’ll have much-coveted “Dr.” stuck to his name), the nurses were quite welcoming to him. The patients, on the other hand… they were miserable.

Confined in their bed, with tubes and drains sticking out of them, their bodies held together with straining stiches and prayers. Itachi was shocked. This wasn’t what he wanted to do. He stood, numb and shocked, as an elderly patient’s wordless screams and went totally ignored on wards- “he’s noncommunicable,” the nurses told him. “Don’t bother- he has dementia.”

Too far gone, they said. Standing at the end of the bed of the wasted old man- perhaps soon to be a dead old man, Uchiha Itachi decided then and there that he would never become a surgeon- no matter what his family said. Cutting open people isn’t what he wanted in his life.

He was more or less hailed as the family genius- “Neurosurgery or Cardiothoracic for sure,” his father had said once with his chest puffed out in pride. It made him look like a particularly deformed pigeon, Itachi thought. Medicine was never but an obligation in his life- the firstborn son of Uchiha Fugaku of the Uchiha line of doctors- there was never a choice for him to make to begin with. The choice was made at his conception, and he had no say in it. What he did have a say in, is which branch of medicine he would go into (small mercies, he thought- the saving grace of it all is that medicine is nothing if not diverse. And he would find something to fit him.)

It was with great pleasure that he broke the news over dinner one day- that he had been accepted in the psychiatry department at Konoha hospital after his internship. His father was apocalyptic, as he had predicted. He swelled like a balloon and made Itachi all the more glad that he was going into psychiatry- perhaps his father needed one to see him. His mother, a retired obstetrician and gynecologist, smiled and nodded; she alone knew that he had a far too gentle nature to be a surgeon. He was a thinker, not a doer. Little Sasuke only shrugged and looked on- he was only in his first year of medical school then- specialties were a far way away for him.

It was only until he started working in psychiatry that he started learning about the “Soulmates Disease”. It was barely glanced over in medical school, written down in the smallest of small prints on powerpoints, and it wasn’t mentioned much on wards. It wasn’t common- not that psychiatry had a lot of teaching time in the curriculum to begin with anyways. And apparently, his supervisor, Dr. Hatake Kakashi, specialized in this relatively untaught disease.

Soulmates Disease involves multiple specialties (making it all the more of a headache); every person in the world is born with a soulmate, and usually they don’t know about it. It’s not something that people are consciously aware of, and that’s perfectly okay. It’s when they do know of the existence of soulmates that the problem arises. For the majority of the people, the only clue that they have is that they feel drawn to the person and vice versa. They may be friends, family members (a few selected case reports talked about twins being each others’ soulmates), or more commonly- lovers. However, there is a minority (undoubtedly, glitches in a matrix called humanity… in medicine, glitches were ominous at best) who become consciously aware of their soulmates’ existence. Those people feel it keenly- the existence of their soulmates.

Sometimes they come to the ENT doctors, complaining of a loud drum beating noise that constantly bothers them and steals away their sleep. Some of them go to their cardiologists, telling them that their heart is beating weirdly and that they hear it pounding in their ears. Some of them go to their general practitioners or family physicians with the same problems. And then there’s the select few who just straight up faint. Wherever they go, they inevitably end up in psychiatry after a long and winding road of unnecessary investigations and headaches, at which they get diagnosed with Soulmate Disease.

The pounding sound that bothers them in their sleep? That’s their soulmates’ heartbeat, as Kakashi said once to a particularly distraught patient. And that’s a good thing, he said, until something goes wrong with that very vital heart beat.

Once, Kakashi was a neurosurgeon at Konoha Hospital- and a damn good one at that, for one who flew through the whole curriculum and graduated from med school a full two years early. Then, one day, he suddenly seized in the middle of excising a brain tumor and accidentally cut too deeply into the patient’s brain. The junior doctor assisting with the operation almost had a panic attack on the spot, Itachi thought with some amusement- anyone would, if there were suddenly two patients in the middle of a delicate operation instead of one, and both were unstable. Luckily, Nara Shikaku, the anesthetist  on scene, was able to take control of the situation swiftly. The patient ended up suing the hospital anyways (or at least his relatives did), and the poor junior doctor promptly transferred away into family medicine afterwards.

Kakashi later regained consciousness after a few days, and the first thing he did was cry uncontrollably; the extra heartbeat that he had heard throughout his high school years and beyond was gone.

It was perhaps a bit more than a coincidence that Itachi lost his favorite cousin, Uchiha Obito, to a drunk driving car accident on the same day. Fortunately, his favorite cousin didn’t suffer too much (he had seen one too many people live beyond their expiratory dates) since he was dead on arrival. In the end, Kakashi never found his soulmate, and Itachi never got to know his cousin better.

All in all, Kakashi ended up with an extra helping of depression and transferred to psychiatry (even though none of his previous training hours transferred) after he was deemed fit enough to return to work and ended up as Itachi’s boss.

It was harrowing on the best of days, to work under Kakashi, Itachi thought. Accomplished or not, teaching is not Kakashi’s forte, and if Itachi was any less of a genius, the ex-neurosurgeon would probably just give up teaching altogether. Sometimes, on particularly rainy days, Itachi would see a dark shadow lurking in Kakashi’s eyes- a terrible look of irreplaceable loss and a tunnel without the light at the end of it- and suddenly he would become taciturn and withdrawn, tired and old. On those days, Itachi does the only thing he can: venture down to the canteen and brave though swarms of medical students and patient visitors to grab his superior a coffee.

“Here,” Itachi would say, and set down a steaming cup of coffee in front of Kakashi. He tosses the man two packets of sugar and a small container of creamer. He’d kick back in his office for a brief reprieve and enjoy his coffee black (like his soul, as his younger brother would say).

“Ah, canteen grade coffee- just the right kind of sludge to kick start my day,” Kakashi would give him that damned eye smile- as if closing his eyes to the world altogether would make the pain go away- and a patronizing pat on the head.

“Hn,” Itachi would reply while reminding himself why suing his boss for workplace harassment is not a good idea.

But still, Itachi thought, if soulmates could have such negative impact on each other, perhaps it’s best if he never meet his soulmate altogether. He doesn’t need to- plenty of people live their lives without meeting their soulmates (or not getting their fairytale happy-ever-after in the end). It’s one of the many things he can live without, Itachi concluded.

Thinking back on what seems like the tenth case of Soulmate Disease he has seen this month, he reiterates his statement: he can definitely live without them. Dr. Uchiha Itachi “the eternal bachelor in psychiatry”: a title he can get used to just fine.

He is rounding a case of longstanding schizophrenia (the woman was brought to the hospital ten years ago thinking that the flowers were serenading her and told her husband. What did the husband do? Dump her into psychiatric ward and wash his hands of her entirely) when he overhears a very loud conversation near the nurse station. It was really less of a conversation and more of a broadcast, he thought amusedly.

“I told you Sakura’s going to go into medicine! She took three attachments under Senju Tsunade , the freaking Chief of Service of Medicine! There’s no way she’s not going into medicine- I don’t even know why you’re even surprised to begin with.” An unfamiliar voice half-yelled.

“And I told you that she has the personality of the worst of surgeons, and I freaking grew up in a clan of surgeons! If Sakura’s going into medicine, we might as well petition for a new ward for medicine, because she’ll have at least demolished one ward by the end of her first year on the job!” Ah, that would be Sasuke’s voice, Itachi thinks- more of Sasuke and his Friends ™. It would be a lie to say that nepotism didn’t exist in medicine. Or rather, perhaps it would be better to say that connections make the world go round- it was like running and driving. Both gets you to the same destination, but driving does so in a far more timely and comfortable manner. And in Konoha Hospital, the Uchihas’ various family members have a far bigger leeway than most.

“You know, I’m suddenly very glad that I’m not doing medicine,” Sasuke’s voice sounded just a bit tired to Itachi- to his knowledge, Sasuke wasn’t post call today.

“Hey, don’t look at me- I’m going into pediatrics.”

“That’s practically medicine, just for shrunken adults.” Itachi almost snorted- Sasuke nearly tore his hair out in pediatrics module. His little brother is clearly not meant for kids.

“It is not,” the voice insisted. Itachi’s more inclined to agree with his little brother on this. “There’s a difference!”

“Uh huh.”

“Says the one with a family tree of surgeons, Mr. Future Neurosurgeon!” There was never any doubt that Sasuke would go into neurosurgery- or any surgery for that matter of fact. It would only take a phone call from their father, after all.

“Like you’re the one to talk! Your dad’s the Chief of Service of Pediatrics!” Sasuke insisted, missing the point completely. Sasuke has always been particularly self-conscious of his unfortunate family relations; he was probably overshadowed by them at some point. Itachi paused in his writing. Huh. The Chief of Service of Pediatrics… Namikaze Minato, a natural born genius turned neonatologist, currently married to Uzumaki Kushina, the current Chief of Service of Obstetrics and Gynecology. Two very high achieving individuals. Two very young individuals, he mentally amended.

Itachi vaguely remembered his mother’s best friend, or “Auntie Kushina,” as she insisted. He remembered her vivid mane of red hair and her equally fiery personality- she met his mother in medical school and were roommates all through those tedious years. “Thick as thieves,” Madara had called them, “and just as bad when it comes to causing trouble for everyone else.”

They did their specialty training together, he thinks. He recalls stories though out his pediatric rotation, about how Kushina would more or less bully her fiancé into freeing up beds at NICU after her patients were done giving birth. A total pushover, one nurse said. A damn handsome pushover, another nurse agreed.  

When one becomes the lowest life forms on ward, they tend to get ignored altogether. It’s amazing the things people say when they think they won’t be overheard, Itachi thought at the time. He filed the story away in the back of his mind (though he couldn’t help but suppress a snort when he saw Dr. Namikaze the next day).

He remembers Aunt Kushina well, particularly on her last visit to the Uchiha household. She came flying in, anger lining her every feature, when she heard that her best friend would resign following the birth of her second child. What followed was a conversation that his father still refused to talk about and the cessation of “Auntie Kushina’s” weekly visit to the Uchiha household.

Apparently, the progeny of Uzumaki Kushina and Namikaze Minato inherited the temperament of Kushina rather than Minato. Privately, Itachi thinks that rather than building an extra ward for medicine, they should build one for pediatrics instead. Uzumaki Kushina is a force to be reckoned with, even in a specialty as far removed from obstetrics and gynecology as psychiatry is.

Itachi snapped the folder shut and picks up another as Sasuke and his friend rounded the corner.

“Sasuke,” Itachi chided without turning around. “Do not be so loud in the wards- you’ll disturb the patients here.”

“Sorry, Ni-san,” he says petulantly. Itachi raised an eyebrow. For a newly minted doctor, Sasuke was still very much a child.

“What are you doing here?” he asks and flips through the lab results. To his knowledge, Sasuke was doing his rotation in orthopedics at the moment.

“I got done with my work for the day and wanted to know if you’re up for grabbing dinner with me,” he said casually.

“Hm,” Itachi said absently, “Sure, just let me finish rounding my patients- I’ll meet you at the carpark in half an hour.”

“Alright, you won’t mind if my friend comes along for dinner, yeah?”

Itachi looks up for first time since he started talking to Sasuke… only to see crystalline blue. For a moment, all he could see was perfect crystalline blue and golden blonde strands against tanned skin. His breath caught.

“Uzumaki Naruto-it’s nice to meet you!” Suddenly, the voice which had been a nuisance just two minutes ago wasn’t so bad anymore.

He couldn’t speak, and his chest squeezed, and his heart skipped a beat- it restarted just fine, but suddenly, there were two heartbeats and not one.

Well, fuck, Itachi thought numbly. The folder slipped from his numb fingers and dropped to the floor with a clatter.

Mandy: Short one shot for cywscross for her fandom bingo challenge! This one should hit the “Soulmates AU” and the “Itachi” one. I’m very much inexperienced in all things romance, and it’s my policy not to write things I don’t at least have some experience or knowledge in… and so, when tasked to write a Soulmates AU, I treat it the only way I know how to treat uncharted territory in life- and that’s to think of it as a disease and act accordingly. It’s a pretty amusing idea, that soulmates are diseases to be treated and not a blessing or boon (as most of the soulmate fics tend to treat them as). That led me to the question of who fits into what specialties,  and I had a lot of fun coming up with headcannons for that. Also, sorry if this is a bit dry for readers who aren’t intimately familiar with medicine (I’m not sure what other word to use when literally 99% of my life is pretty much medicine in its various forms- the world of med has its own culture and language that takes a while to learn). I’ll try to go back later and vary the sentence structure a bit or something… But for people who are in the world of med, this is probably kinda funny in a nerdtastic way. Also, note that I’m writing this from Itachi’s POV, and he’s a character that feels things very keenly (sometimes too keenly), so some things may be slightly exaggerated.

Here’s a quick run down of who’s who (note that the amount of clinical work COS’ do varies):

Uchihas: Uchiha Madara- COS (chief of service, aka the top of the pecking order in their department, so to speak) of Surgery, Uchiha Fugaku- Hepatobiliary surgeon, consultant, Uchiha Mikoto- OG (obstetrics and gynecology), associate consultant (retired), Uchiha Itachi- Psychiatrist, specialist, Uchiha Sasuke- Intern

Senjus: Senju Hashirama- Head of Konoha Hospital, Senju Tobirama- Renal Medicine, senior consultant, Senju Tsunade- COS of Internal Medicine

Namikaze family: Namikaze Minato- COS of Pediatrics, Neonatologist, Uzumaki Kushina- COS of Obstetrics and Gynecology, Namikaze Naruto- Intern

Others: Haruno Sakura- Intern, Hatake Kakashi- Psychiatrist, consultant

And the Naras would be anesthetists- all of them, the Yamanakas would be psychiatrists, the Aburame would occupy the pathology department, and the Hyuuga would all be radiologists instead of Hinata who chooses geriatrics instead, and Sai would be the best and the worst reconstructive surgeon ever (he does fantastic work for sure, but he also makes completely inappropriate comments to patients and nurses alike that earns him three complaints and a threatened demotion. He also gets almost-punched by Sakura-the-intern when he calls her “Ugly” for the first time, and no one’s even mad about it).

plotqueen  asked:

we’re superheroes that got drunk last night oh god what’d we do au. that is just what the doctor ordered after a long day of picking up after fucking irma.

Sorry for how long it took me for that one! I hope you’re all good now!

Eggsy wakes up in a bed that’s now his own, hungover and naked, with no memories of what happened the previous night.

That really should worry him more, but compared to the last time he woke up naked and not remembering what led him to such a state, the fact that the house he’s in isn’t burned to the ground is a clear improvement. Whatever happened last night, he did not lose control over his powers and that’s what truly is important.

He’s already on probation and even if Merlin is fair, he really doesn’t want to be dumped back into training.

Luckily, as soon as he gets up, he realises that he still got his brief on and that the rest of his clothing is merely folded on top of the dresser. Obviously, whatever happened last night had nothing to do with flaming on and he won’t get charged with public indecency due to his clothes being burned off.

He dresses as quickly as the fog still in his mind allows him to and silently swears never to drink with Gazelle and Roxy again.

At the thought, he pauses shortly, trying to see if his first clue of what he was up to yesterday will shake loose any more memories, but except for the vague feeling of having been carried at one point, he’s still drawing a blank.

He shrugs before venturing out of the room, but he’s still prepared for a fight on whoever is the owner of the house. At least until he hears a familiar voice from what he assumes is the kitchen and notices the old granny meets serial killer decor.

“Harry?” he calls out, though he is now 98% sure that it is his house.

He’s proven right when the man steps into the corridor barely ten seconds later, his warm smile making Eggsy wonders for a brief moment if maybe some of the butterflies on the walls haven’t snuck out of their cases to run havoc on his stomach. But of course, that’s just the way Harry usually makes him feel.

“Ah Eggsy! I was about to bring you a breakfast tray, but I’m happy we’ll be sharing our meal instead!”

From anyone else, Eggsy would have suspected them to be taking the piss, at least about the tray, but he knows Harry is being entirely honest. He’s just that kind of man and it’s a good thing Eggsy has been in love for a long time, so he doesn’t start to blush like an idiot.

Hangover all but forgotten, he follows Harry to the dining room where the other man helps him into his seat, feeling a little thrill when Harry pushes the chair without any difficulty. He very carefully doesn’t think that Harry would be strong enough to hold him up if he wanted to fuck him against a wall and without even breaking into a sweat.

Not for the first time, he thanks the gods that Harry’s powers are only physical and he cannot read his mind.

“What happened last night?” He asks instead, relieved when Harry chuckles good-naturedly as he takes place in front of him.

“Nothing too bad. Enough to get teased by the community, but not anything that will lose you the public’s sympathy.”

When it’s obvious that Harry isn’t going to say more, he groans in false dejection. “Merlin’s got it all on video and he’s going to blackmail me with it, isn’t he?”

“Blackmail is a bit too strong a word, but yes, that’s the idea.” Harry laughs when Eggsy makes a show of hiding his head into his arms in mock despair and for a glorious moment, Eggsy feels his fingers gently carding through his hair. “There, there, I’m sure it won’t be too bad. And if he does get insufferable, do tell me, I have my own blackmail material on him.”

He sits up again with a happy grin. “My hero!” He’s probably imagining it, but he thinks Harry flushes slightly at his words. “But doesn’t Merlin have stuff on you too?”

“Ah no. You see, with my metabolism, alcohol has no effect on me.”

“Oh, that sucks.” He had never considered what Harry’s super strength and speed meant for his day to day life, but he can’t say he’s surprised either. Of course all powers come with their own side effects, just like he’s never felt cold in his entire life himself.

“It’s not so bad really,” Harry dismisses it without any heat in his words, his hand coming to rest on top of Eggsy’s. “There are many other ways for me to have fun.”

And the thing is, Eggsy isn’t entirely clueless, but he’s never been sure before if he wasn’t projecting his own interest onto Harry, only seeing what he wanted to see.

But that?

That is as big as a come on as he’s ever received from anyone and Eggsy would have to be an idiot do ignore it.

“Then you should show me one day, yeah?” And to make sure Harry doesn’t mistake his answer for anything than what it is, he turns his hand so that he can link their fingers together.

“Consider it done,” there is a look of pure delight on Harry’s face and Eggsy has to try very hard to calm himself when his thumb starts stroking the inside of his wrist.

It wouldn’t do for him to burn Harry’s house down before they even so much as kissed after all.

You liked doctor!Luke, but at the same time you despised him. He was too perfect, and so you thought it mustn’t be true. Parents raved about how their sick children’s faces lit up at the sight of his twinkling blue eyes, patients wrote him extensive thank you notes after a surgery that went even better than predicted, and your fellow nurses even had the gall to fawn openly about him, proclaiming that his arms “looked like they’d been shaped by the gods.”

You sighed as you arranged some surgical equipment. Honestly, you admitted it: you didn’t hate Luke because he was mean to you—in fact, in was quite the contrary. A green-eyed monster lived inside your chest, rearing its ugly head whenever the blue-eyed doctor entered the room. You almost wanted him to be a complete asshole, but he wasn’t; he was sweet.

“Need some help?”

Speak of the devil, or, well, angel himself. He looked like he just got out of surgery, his hair mussed up and body dressed in scrubs.

“Oh, uh, no… it’s okay. Thanks.” you said.

Luke furrowed his eyebrows. “Are you sure? You’ve been working all day.”

You chuckled, gesturing to his attire. “So have you.”

Luke shrugged. “I don’t mind. Besides, it’ll go faster if there’s two of us.”

And before you could protest, he was beside you, arms brushing against yours as he arranged the tools.

In the hospital, the other nurses always gossiped, but it was a surprise when, a couple days after, you heard them mention your name. Eyebrow raising, you listened in and managed to hear one of them saying, “Dr. Hemmings… totally has a thing for Y/N.”

You couldn’t stop your mouth from gaping open, but after a second you closed it and snorted. What? Were these people crazy? There was no way.

But maybe you dismissed the idea too quickly, because Luke kept asking you to be on his surgical team and went out of his way to help you with whatever tasks you had that day, striking conversation and lingering around to talk to you even when he had somewhere to be and something to do.

It was still a surprise when, after another night of him helping you clean up a former inpatient room, he asked you.

“Y/N, uh, well, I was wondering if you would be interested in going out to dinner with me Saturday night?”

Your jaw dropped. “What?”

He cleared his throat, and for the first time in his life, you could swear that his usually steady hands were shaking. “I said-“

“Wait.” You were having a serious case of word vomit. “You want to go out with me? I’m not… as good as you. At anything.”

He scrunched his nose up. “What?

You swallowed, ready to repeat yourself, when he reached up and pushed a strand of hair out of your face. His eyes grew soft, that million-dollar smile that had little kids laughing taking over his face.

“Y/N,” he said, “you’re more perfect than you think you are. Promise. Besides, remember that heart surgery we did last week? I wouldn’t have been able to do that without you.”

You smiled, and suddenly all your jealously faded away. “Sure, Luke,” you told him, “dinner sounds great.”

Coworker!5sos blurb night with @complicashton, request/tag us in your writing!

deleted source

A Year In Fic - 2015

I was tagged by @dreameater1988 to do this and well here we go. All links lead to my AO3 account.













I posted the multi chapter fics in the month I started with them, except “Collide” because I started this one in November 2014, but wrote mainly in 2015. 

Total Word Count: 420.404 (Wow, that is quite a number and I am surprised it are so many stories in the end. Fun fact, I always think, it could have been a little bit more. I was rather lazy in August. Also I have written a couple stories that were for friends and are not published. So I think I can be okay with this list )

Okay, I think everyone is tagged by now, as I am late to the party, if you want to do this, feel tagged! 

Title: the planets will bow [fanart]
Artist: curiouslycurious

Title: the planets will bow
Author: skywideopen
Rating: Teen and Up
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Words: 71869
It all becomes a sort of blur after a while, a wash of colour and sound from places and times so extraordinary and beyond her powers to describe. But through it all, amidst all of time and space, her son is laughing, her son is smiling, and that remains the most important gift that Emma has given to Regina.

“Thank you,” she tells Emma quietly, as Henry happily—happily—eats ice-cream whilst dangling his legs over the edge of an observation platform into space, the swirling colours of a glowing nebula surrounding them. “For doing this for us.”

“Any time,” Emma says, thumbs in the pockets of her coat. “It’s the least I could do.”

[Doctor Who AU: On a cold, wintry night, Regina Mills meets a Time Lady.]

Don’t forget to feed the author and artist - leave a kudos and/or a comment for both fic AND art!

Doctor/Rose AU: Sheherazade

Pairing: Doctor/Rose (Nine, Ten, Eight)
Rating: : R. This story contains graphic descriptions of violence.
Wordcount: 6300~
A/N: This is an AU that combines Dimension!Hopping!Rose with the Eighth Doctor of the Big Finish audio plays. Spoilers for the latter, I suppose. I wrote this for the 50 AUs meme (prompt: ‘Sheherazade’).

The last three trips have been futile, unfruitful endeavours. Travelling has made her recognize her own smallness, her own insignificance and every blinking star is a reminder of the darkness to come.

She enters the co-ordinates with shaky fingers. The vortex swirls and churns like a tornado and Rose disappears into nothingness.

On the other side, a monster dwells in a castle made of cages, designed to keep him safe.

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kelkat9  asked:

You are a gorgeous writer! ten/rose au. Sort of Night at the Museum. The Doctor is the new curator and stays late one night. As he's walking by the statute of the Goddess Fortuna, he hears a noise and finds out that she's come to life and is waving to him. Poor girl was cursed and only comes alive at night. He falls in love and finds a way to break the curse.

John Smith, nicknamed the Doctor because of his PhD in Physics and inability to stay at a job more than a few months at a time, paced around the Greek exhibit nervously. It was his first night at the job, and he needed to keep this one. Only a favor from a friend of a friend had landed him this job, and despite his inheritance he needed something to do or else he would go mad. Ever since the fire…

He stopped himself. No. Despite the weird rumors surrounding this place he was happy to work here, because museums were like stepping into another time; he liked to think that he was really there, living the lives of the people who used to use the artifacts, imagining what it would be like to live over a thousand years ago.

There was a crack.

His head whipped around, staring suspiciously around the room. “Hello?” he asked, cautiously. “Anyone there?”

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Things (At SitC) Go Bump In The Night
A/N ok this had to happen i wrote it while I had writers block last night (was trying to write the doctor who au lol) but here please enjoy this it’s like the only thing i do not regret writing. here we go then. THE PHAN/AJTHORKI CROSSOVER.  -Gracie  — “Oh my god, I’m tired.” Alex groaned, flopping onto the bed in their hotel room at about 11pm. Jake put his bag down and then leapt, landing right next to Alex, making the bedsprings squeak. Alex rolled his eyes, and Jake giggled, reaching for Alex’s hand. 

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Dr Who: Nine & Rose | | Nights In White Satin [AU]