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phoenix-king-ozai · 2 months

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The Ozai, Ursa, & Ikem romance debacle…

I truly honestly hope that the Netflix adaptation doesn’t adapt The Search when it comes to Ozai and Ursa’s relationship. Which, thank Agni seems not to fully be the case. It seems that LA Ozai does care for Ursa and his family members, even Zuko. He show respect to Lu Ten and Iroh and even cried when burning Zuko. He even mentioned the “soft” mother Ursa when talking to Zuko and referenced her when saying “don’t talk to me about loss” Showing that he had feeling for her.

The Search is very poorly written and turn Ozai into a very piss-poor caricature of an evil abusive bad man for no good or compelling reason yet even fails to deliver on that interpretation of Ozai and Ursa’s complex and compelling relationship.

This song is basically the Urzai relationship in the ATLA comics!

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If The Search wanted to turn Ozai into a compelling, vicious, dangerous, and cruel monstrous villain in Ursa’s and our own eyes. Then why didn’t Yang have Ozai kill Ikem when he THREATENED his father, Fire Lord’s Azulon life in defiance due to his love for Ursa? Yet, for some reason, he had Ozai spare Ikem’s life due to Ursa's “love” for Ozai which Ozai knows is a blatant lie and stupidly desperate!

The realistic and emotionally heart-wrenching scenario would be for Ozai to march towards Ikem, Ursa tries to stop Ozai, however Ozai scarred Ursa’s wrist by burning her via firebending and then backhanded her causing her lip to bleed. Then proceed to execute Ikem by immolation in front of Ursa’s very eyes. This very demented, sinister, vile, and cruel brutal punishment for DARING to raise his hand against Fire Lord Azulon, Fire Prince Ozai, and the Fire Sages wishes would had created a compelling narrative regarding Ursa having complete and justified loathing of her betroth Ozai.

It was extremely foolish, idiotic, unreasonable, and unrealistic to have a no-named peasant like Ikem, who is not a firebender, attack the royal carriage and guards no matter how brave and noble his affection and intentions were regarding the integrity of his childhood love. Fire Lord Azulon and Fire Prince Ozai probably should have immediately immolated Ikem and his familial relations due to his affront against the Fire Lord and his son. Trying to stand up against the authoritarian, oppressive, violent, and vicious absolute monarchical regime of Fire Lord Azulon and Fire Prince Ozai should have come with immense consequences just like the fire nation rebels in Episode 3: Omashu in NATLA.

Zuko mentions that Ozai and Ursa’s along with their family used to be happy, and we saw that in Zuko's flashbacks. Yang, just decided to make Ursa a victim because in his mind: URSA WOMAN, OZAI BAD MAN, SHE MUST BE HELD, HOSTAGE!!! While Ozai and Ursa arrange marriage does make sense and was confirmed by the creators. It doesn't mean that Ozai and Ursa relationship was ALWAYS BAD, or SHE WAS KIDNAPPED! Plus, the Urzai relationship is quite normal in the antiquity of Asian societies that the Fire Nation is based on aka Shogunates of Japan and Imperial Chinese Dynasties!!!

Personally, I am afraid that the ATLA comics are going to screw up the Fire Nation Royal Family Characterization and Dynamics along with making them one-dimensional especially Ozai and Azulon. They might legit have Azulon and Ozai be abusive and beat Ilah and Ursa. I'm so doomer blackpilled regarding ATLA comics considering the Serach. This is probably why the comic writers ignore making a comic Pre-Zuko Alone flashbacks.

Ozai's harshness and ruthless regarding Zuko has nothing to do with Ursa or Ikem forbidden love! Ozai wants Zuko and Azula to both prove themselves. Ozai doesn't favor Zuko or Azula. It is about which child will succeed Sozin, Azulon, and his legacy as future Fire Lord. In fact, Ozai doesn't want Zuko or Azula to think that they are the “favorite” child. He wants Azula and Zuko to improve through competition. Because of the “only the greatest of pressures can forge diamonds” & “steel sharpen steel” mentality. Ozai has the mentality of an imperialist warlord. Ozai isn't trying to be the world's most loving and caring father but rather continue and build upon a powerful and dominant legacy that his forefathers had created before him. He wants Zuko & Azula to be cold, ruthless, heartless, vicious, and brutal imperialistic warmongers like him (Ozai), his father (Azulon), and his grandfather (Sozin).

#atla #avatar #avatar: the last airbender #ozai #ursa #ikem #urzai #noren #urkem #natla spoilers #avatar netflix #natla meta #atla netflix #anti the search #fuck the search #fuck ikem #fuck yang #fuck the comics

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dropthedemiurge · 3 months

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Last Twilight Episode 10 Reaction

I wasn't even going to write my own posts of LT but this episode just delivered punch after punch! I couldn't help but comment, so–

I love to see Jimmy and Mark using their dramatic acting microexpressions attacks on my heart, i'm bleeding but I'm fascinated. Sea has grown a lot and acts so believable, I want to praise him. But damn, maybe it's because I actually remember Jimmy and Mark since Bad Buddy, the contrast is huge here. Jimmy also does that thing with the jaw that makes him look more manly and mature, none of the young and mischeivous Wai, in Vice Versa he also didn't reach this level of complexity, I think we all should bow to P'Aof & team for leading him.

I know I should be talking about Day who isn't crying while his family is devastated (he knew and was prepared and felt comfortable as long as he had Mork, they were not prepared) but I am biased... The way Night didn't even dare to touch Day when he wanted to comfort him at doctor office Т_Т And how later, at the dinner table he looked with such disbelief, and hesitantly started teasing Day as sibling again when Day reached out Т_т And how for months he felt he deserved to be silent, torn apart and uncomfortable, yelled at and judged for not taking care of his brother properly.

Noo, my heart!

But also Day and Mork, of course, the way Day bravely said "The last thing I saw in my life was his face", and Mork said "I'm sorry" and I can understand the mom going "you crossed over all lines with ny son, get out of my house", and it's probably huge red HR violation but Jimmy's big teary eyes aaaaah how could she not fold? I saw some comments on tumblr about the show not calling out her being abusive and everything, but I strongly disagree and I think it all makes sense. The strong single mom, the asian family, the unwanted oppression and self-misery that finally cracked during Christmas dinner – I could probably write my view on this in another post but who cares.

Dhskajvs I love how Porjai and Night are "patpraning" Mork and Day, like they are setting up plans to look like accidents just for two undestined lovebirds to be able to sneak out on a date from the parent who shouldn't know about it, very PatPran behavior xD Only friends are the one making it work xD

That's the face of a man giggling because he just declared himself a father and a future husband on his own (oh their mom is going to have a heart attack but who cares). "That's my child" - look at the sky, this night is so freaking green~ I'd say the real winner of that marathon was Night, Day maybe got a medal and a boyfriend but Night got a girl and a kid! xD His confidence is hot, but also I wouldn't hesitate a second as well if I saw Porjai available to be loved, I mean look at her! What a treasure.

I can't believe I was so on board and rooting for a hetero couple in a BL since the very first second but they are still going too damn strong. I love them. I shall draw a fanart.

Omg, pop-up books shout-out in a BL! First time seeing this. Okay, Day and Mork are freaking cute, I usually lose interest when characters start dating but they are so damn adorable and in their happy bubble here! Smiling and goofy Jimmy is all I need in this economy.

Master Aon is slaying on a dance floor, this actor is honestly stealing the show and I love it for him... I like how he shows being advanced and comfortable as visually impaired person in relationship with a girl that can see, the calling out and gestures and the comfort.

P'Aof and his damn heartwarming community scenes, first with MLC and now here, I knew what I walked in and still wasn't prepared for all the EmOtiOns<3

Promoting Oishii as one of the color paints is very creative but all it makes me think of is a VERY relatable situation with actual artists who put tea cup and water for paint on the same table... Yeah xD

Also, sniff kisses are so cute, fight me, westerns.

Lmao, Day even drew Jimmy's poor 5 o'clock shade above the lips fvsjakjahk I wonder which one of the staffs drew it, or was it actually Sea? No matter what, I bet this person had a lot of fun anyway :D

Okay, THERE ARE MORE SCENES THAT MAKE ME ALMOST CRY Poor Night, he was so unloved and judged in this family for a year, I will actually fight everyone to give him his own special beef stew.

He was going to distance himself out of guilt as a self punishment and feelings of 'the hero is here, the villain should vanish' supported by both people closest to him, but Day insisted he's a family and he should stay, reminding their mother of it… Oh no. So many feelings.

Again, it deserves another post. Where I talk about how Night feels like such a man, a protective adult who changed and is able and actively wants to take care of dear people, but who looks and feels like a small punished kid in his own family house. Day too, btw, but he hasn't found as much confidence as he struggles with blindness as well.

But I loved that family having fun scene. I loved it so much. That family trying out cake eating blindly was so nice, oozing of happiness. The curse of misery deserves to be broken, and the kids are the one breaking it, as usual. Mother should remember what's really important - her and her kids happiness, not control that's led by fear. But it's not easy. This is why this scene is so important, and filled with happy and relieved tears. Tbh I didn't feel like P'Aof glossed over the mother-son conflict, it's just that the narration feels... I don't wanna say more asian, it might be different from the sort of justice/revenge what some of the people wanted to see. I understand it and it hits home.

Oh I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE DOING, P'AOF!

Something tells me in a very loud way that this operation won't go well, look at Sea's face! The scene just screams "I still can't see anything". It would be such a P'Aof type of teaser as well, give hope and then trick into the opposite. I can't imagine him actually getting his vision cured. I'll fight myself if that's what actually happens in the next episode. It's a great way to show that you should just keep enooying life instead of regretting the cure.

#last twilight #last twilight the series #last twilight meta #morkday #night #last twilight night #porjainight #dropthemeta #last twilight reaction #tbh this whole post is just mork and night squealing #but yeah this one was such a good episode

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parmmykitty · 4 months

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Expect the 3rd chapter when the bell tolls one! I'm sorry but I can't make the ghosts all someone Wesker knows in cannon since I'll run out of people quick, so I'm gonna improvise. This is its own little universe that doesn't make sense in the bigger picture, but it's fine. (I'm also making my own lore of his childhood there's literally nothing to work with but the wiki page. Sue me.)

The R.P.D. Christmas Carol pt. 3

Scrooge!Wesker x Secretary!Reader

Pt.1 Pt.2

The sound of a phantom grandfather clock resounded throughout Wesker's bedroom at one o'clock sharp. The tune of the clock ending in one final ring to indicate 1 in the morning.

Wesker's eyes flew open with the final chime. The room was just as it was when he had gone to sleep an hour prior. The moonlight coming in through the window gave a sense of peace and made him less tense.

All at once the room came to life when the door slammed open hard enough to damage the wall. With it a blinding light shinging in Wesker could barely make out the figure coming in through the door. He shot up in bed, reaching for his gun for the second time that evening. The silhouette floated in the room in a strange mix between seemingly floating and swimming. As she entered the room the door shut behind her blocking the light and making the room dark once again.

"Let me guess. You're the ghost here to show me the error of my ways?" He said sarcastically.

"Yeah, and you better be grateful for it." The ghost responded smoothly. With the light gone Wesker could finally see what the ghost looked like. It was a woman who seemed of Asian descent with short black hair.

Floating at Wesker's eye level she expectantly waited for his reply, "And what, may I ask, makes you the ghost for the job?"

"I'm the ghost of Christmas past. I'm sure you can guess what I'm here to do."

Wesker stood upfrom the bed with his gun firmly in his hand. "And if I choose to not listen to you?"

"You'll simply suffer in damnation strangled by the chains of your sins in the deepest pits in hell," The ghost responded amusingly, "but at least give me a chance. It's not like you'll be able to fall back asleep before the next ghost comes anyway."

Wesker stared into the ghosts eyes searching for an ulterior motive, but found none. Not only that, but she did have a fair point. At the very least something amusing might happen if he went along with the ghost's silly story.

"Fine, but don't expect me to get a bleeding heart with one conversation."

The ghost laughed before forcefully grabbing his wrist and dragging him to the door she just came in through, "who's aid anything about a conversation?" She laughed. "This is a hands on approach." The door flung open relighting the room. When the two reached it the ghost gave him a hard push and in shock he fell through the door as if there was no floor to stand on.

After a small falling sensation Wesker fell directly into the ground. Expecting the fall he had no time to brace and fell fully into the snow. The usual harsh winter weather feeling like room temperature eventhough he was shirtless and in only pajama pants.

"Nice landing, Wesker," the ghost floated down calmly.

Glaring up at the ghost as he got his his feet he realized he had moved to a whole different town. The usual city streets of Raccoon City being replaced with thick forests and a single large mansion. "The Wesker House. This place was destroyed after all the other Weskers died. What is this?"

The ghost turned to the large mansion that loomed above them. "This is where you grew up, right? Bring back any fond Christmas memories?"

"Aren't you supposed to tell me the memories? What use are you if I have to think them myself?"

"Fine."

The environment changed around them changing to the inside of the house. Inside there were kids sitting along in chairs and on the staircase. All of them with serious faces and seemingly studying.

"Do you know anyone here?" The ghost looked over at him.

"Obviously."

"What about him?" The ghost pointed over to an ajar door that led to what seemed to be an office. Inside a small boy with blonde hair sat inside talking with a man. The kid could barely be ten, but anyone could tell that it was him. That small boy was the same Wesker who was ten in 1970.

"I'm sure you can guess who that is. It's fairly clear who it is."

The ghost turned to him with a small pout, "You're no fun. You know that right?" Sighing, she once again grabbed his wrist and dragged him to the door. "If you wanna learn anything. Listen."

Poking a head in and looking around Wesker immediately remembered the conversation.

"You're the brightest kid we have here Albert. Of all the things you've chosen to do you decided to waste your own time on frivolities. Do you have anything to say for yourself?" Mr. Wesker had his arms crossed and leaned against the front of his desk. In contrast, Albert had his head down without meeting his eye.

"I was just trying to be nice, sir. All the books in the library said that's what I should do this time of year," the sadness in the kids voice was clear to Wesker's ears. He could vaguely remember the feeling too.

"In what way was that nice? By wasting all the other children's time? Spreading these ridiculous stories about Santa Clause of all things. You should be studying not daydreaming. You have a test the Saturday, no? I don't want to see you out of your room until then. Be lucky this is your first time in my office or things would have been a lot worse for you," the man lectured.

Weser turned around immediately and made his way to the door. "Let me out. I've seen enough. You've made your point."

The ghost caught up from behind him and looked at him. "Already? Well that was fast. But, I really do have to be sure you're ready for the next ghost. Poor thing might cry if you're mean to him."

Again he world changed around them. This time once again the city streets were around them. In front of him sat Racoon Park and instantly his stomach dropped. The sense of dread he felt was incomparable to anything since this very day he had come back to.

"You can't be serious," he said sharply and turned to look at the ghost.

"What? Did something important happen on this day? Care to share?"

Walking away from her and towards where he knew she wanted him to be Wesker couldn't help but remember everything. No matter how much he wanted to turn away and bury his head in the sand he knew the quicker he got this over with the quicker he could go home.

"Another year goes by with no wedding, right, Albert?" The words tore through his chest and gripped his heart.

"Is that your dear secretary, Wesker? I'm sure there was no nepotism involved that got them that job," the ghost said.

"I told you before. My research has been keeping me more busy than usual. We'll be married when I can give you more of my time," a younger Wesker about 35 years old stood beside a person on the park bench. There was no one else in sight on this particular Christmas Eve.

"I'm getting a sense of deja vu. Isn't that what you said last year too? And the year before that?" The person smiled sadly up at the younger Wesker.

"Because things haven't changed, and with me being the main researcher things have been taking longer," the younger Wesker answered them and sat down beside them on the bench.

"Nothings changed, huh? Something has changed, Albert. You have. You don't love me anymore. Do you? The love is gone from your eyes, Albert. There's no need to keep up this charade. You married your work before me. I will always be your friend, but I can't be waiting for love I won't get. Goodbye, Albert. I'll keep in touch."

They walked away leaving Wesker alone on the bench. The younger sat in shock unable to voice anything.

The older Wesker on the other hand turned furiously to the ghost," What do you gain from showing me this?! How will showing me these Christmases of all the others change how I view them?! You've only reminded me how terrible the whole damn holiday is!"

"Who said anything about making you like Christmas," the ghost smoothly said, "I'm here to make you stop being an asshole. To make you see that you are what is ruining your life. Maybe you were influenced as a kid to be a dick to everyone, but there is no excuses for an adult!" The ghost shouted in his face.

A wave of dizziness passed over him all at once. Closing the eyes to relieve the pain he felt a sense of vertigo before opening his eyes once again. When he did he was back in his bedroom. All the lights out in the room leaving it dark as if he just woke up.

The sound of pots and pans rattling with the sound of someone singing Christmas songs could be heard downstairs in his kitchen. Rolling his eyes Wesker decided to go and see what the next ghost wanted from him.

Walking into the kitchen he was surrounded with the smells of a huge Christmas feast. An inhuman sized turkey laid on his dining table stuffed between other festive dishes. At the head of the table was a young man in Christmas robs with blonde hair and blue eyes. His singing of carols could be labeled mediocre at best but he still belted the lyrics to his fullest.

When the ghost opened his eyes he let out a pathetic squeak and dropped a turkey leg he was using as a conducting baton. "I'm sorry. I didn't know Past was done with you already," he sheepishly said, "I'm the ghost of Christmas present. Nice to meet you!" As Wesker looked over the ghost who seemed more like a twink than an omniscient being he couldn't help but roll his eyes.

~~~~~~~~

@aoi-targaryen

#albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #resident evil #wesker x reader #ada wong #leon kennedy

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atlanticghostcrab · 11 months

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#photography #flowers #pink #bleeding heart #pink flowers #woods #forest #green #spring #photographers on tumblr #original photography #plants #asian bleeding-heart

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twogyuu · 2 years

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Terrifyingly Innocent [Fifteen]

Pairing: Seungcheol x fem!reader, mild Jisoo x reader

Synopsis: Fearful of losing her, yet unwilling to leave; this agreement between Seungcheol and his best friend’s little sister was meant to be casual and temporary, yet he finds himself growing more attached to her day by day.

Genre: Fluff, angst, fake dating, fwb(?), slowburn, older brother’s best friend!Seungcheol, badboy!Seungcheol, innocent!reader, older brother!Jihoon, non-idol!au, university!au, low-key Crazy Rich Asians!au(Seungcheol is RICH - implied chaebol lifestyle, Jihoon and reader’s family aren’t chaebols and are commoners but well-off)

Warnings: Suggestive, use of profanity, minor injuries/bleeding, food, morning breath

WC: ~3.5K

A/N: I don’t have much to say today :(

Taglist: @starry-hannie @itsveronicaxxx @ann-non @sonje78 @halfsaints @cheolright @yoozuku @catwonwoo @pwwarkjisung @listxn @arikimtanapon @haobrainrot @autumn-lv @sleeplessdawn @cheoriemoawa @nanamioo @rjsmochii @hobistigma @magical-spit @smuchsmut @wonwoosthetic @taestrwbrry @ahgastayzen @bibinnieposts

Unable to tag :( : @soonchanshua @missjopper @technicallypsychicmiracle @0f-course-why-not

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Seungcheol had always told you, you were pretty, but he was wrong.

He was way prettier than you – even in all his slumber, his black hair sticking matted at the strangest angles, the creases of the sheets etched into the side of his cheeks. Still wrapped up in his arms, you laid awake, admiring Seungcheol. You knew he was good-looking, but this was a different side of his beauty. He had the conventional broad build, sharp jawline, big shiny eyes, and heart-stopping grin of a Kpop idol heartthrob. But here in his bed next to you with the morning sun casting shadows over his pale skin, he looked small, vulnerable, and ethereal.

Just as you were about to reach up to brush his hair out of his eyes, Seungcheol caught your hand.

“Why are you up so early?” he muttered, mindlessly intertwining your fingers together.

“It’s almost eleven,” you informed him softly.

“Still too early,” Seungcheol whined.

“We have to get up, Cheol,” you giggled, “My shift at the cafe starts at one.”

He let out a huff, one eye peeking open sleepily to look at you. “Five more minutes?”

“Will it really be five minutes?”

“Mmhmm.” He rolled over to lay on top of you, trapping you underneath him. You made an indescribable noise as you tried to sink deeper into his bed, covering your face with your hands out of embarrassment. Still only with one eye open, Seungcheol relished in your shy reaction, a hearty and husky chuckle vibrating through his chest.

“Cute,” he whispered more to himself than you. You felt heat rush across your face. Though he had called you ‘cute’ before, it felt different this time – especially being in this compromising position. Seungcheol buried his face in the crook of your neck, his lips brushing the skin underneath your ear, sending a shiver up your spine. Your eyes fluttered shut in bliss, and unconsciously, you found yourself rubbing your thighs together, a soft moan escaping your form. A sense of satisfaction swelled in his chest, knowing this was the effect he had on you. Seungcheol’s lips traveled across your cheek, peppering your face with soft kisses until he reached the corner of your mouth, where he planted one last peck. Just as he was about to move in for a kiss, you quickly thrusted a finger against his lips. Seungcheol opened his eyes, squinting as he was adjusting to the light of the bright room, his brows furrowed together.

You blinked at him owlishly. “No kisses until you brush your teeth.”

“What?” he asked, his words warbled against your finger.

“I don’t like morning breath,” you explained.

“Y/N,” he whined. Regardless of your request, he pushed your finger off and tried to dive in again. Quickly, you turned your head to the side, trying to wriggle out of his hold, so he would miss.

“Choi Seungcheol!” you squealed as you felt his hands move up your waist near your armpits, his fingers tickling your sides.

“Just one!” he begged amidst your giggles.

You felt him lift his weight off of you in the struggle, taking this as an opportunity to escape. Quickly, you ducked under his arms and tumbled towards the edge of the bed, leaning back on your elbows. You should’ve expected this when Seungcheol turned around and started to crawl after you, a dark look in his eyes – he was Choi Seungcheol who never backed down from competition and never gave up easily. When he got close enough, you stuck your foot out against his chest to stop him in his tracks.

Seungcheol quirked an eyebrow at you. “Kinky.”

“What–”

You didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence, however, your words seemingly caught in your throat when Seungcheol leaned forward. It wasn’t hard to move out of your hold, Seungcheol easily pushing your leg to the side. His hand caressed your leg, gently brushing against your calves to your thighs, slipping up his T-shirt and letting it rest on your hip bone. Your stomach did somersaults as he rubbed small circles into your hip, an amused expression crossing his face at your surprise.

Finally, he pressed his lips gently, but firmly against yours. It lasted only a few seconds before he pulled away, sliding off the bed making his way to the bathroom. You blinked a few times, processing what just happened. You adjusted yourself into a sitting position, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. You weren't used to this side of Seungcheol, let alone any of this. Unlike the first few times, the light kisses to the cuddles were seemingly effortless and comfortable. Indeed your heart still fluttered at his touch, but there was also a sense of content that settled in after.

A few minutes later, Seungcheol walked out of his bathroom, a towel slung over his shoulders. A look of confusion crossed his face, questioning why you were still in the same position he left you in. Encasing your figure in between his arms, he bent down and placed another chaste kiss on your lips to snap you out of your trance – fortunately, it worked as you blinked a few times, staring up at him.

"You're kissing me a lot," you told him, bluntly.

He chuckled at your straightforwardness, opting to kiss you yet again. His heart swelled when you willingly leaned into it. “I brushed my teeth,” Seungcheol said in a low, teasing tone.

“Don’t you think morning breath is disgusting?” you asked him, trying to shake off the lingering thoughts you had earlier.

“If it’s yours, I don’t mind,” Seungcheol replied nonchalantly, “Jihoon’s though–”

You held up a hand, signaling him to stop. You did not need to know why or how Seungcheol knew what your older brother’s morning breath smelled like. Standing up from your spot, you placed a gentle hand on his chest, pushing him away to make room to walk around him.

“My turn to freshen up,” you announced.

“I’ll go make breakfast then?” Seungcheol offered.

“You know how to cook?”

“Ramen.”

You chuckled. “Of course.” You shook your head as you made your way to the bathroom.

“Egg or no egg?” he called after you.

“Egg!”

It was an interesting sight, Seungcheol in the kitchen. Even if he was just making ramen, he was being extra, wearing a sky blue apron around his waist – you recognized it as the one with the reindeer saying, “Let it snow, let it snow!” dancing in the North Pole that Mingyu had gifted him a few years back. Silently, you padded over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, smooshing your cheeks into the warmth of his back. You weren’t physically affectionate, but Choi Seungcheol was starting to make you want to do these kinds of cringe-worthy things. It was a new and exciting sensation, though frankly, it made you anxious you were getting too attached.

“Done getting ready?” Seungcheol asked. He placed a hand over your clasped ones resting on his abdomen, still focused on the boiling pot of ramen. He stirred the noodles with his wooden chopsticks in his other hand.

“Mmhmm,” you replied.

“Did you brush your teeth?”

You chortled into his shirt. “Yes, I did – I thought you said you liked my morning breath?”

“Correction: I said I don’t mind it – I do prefer a fresh scent.”

You rolled your eyes and let go of his waist, making your way to the spinning chairs of the kitchen island. Seungcheol moved over and opened the cupboards pulling out two brightly colored bowls.

“Let’s eat?” he asked, while separating two servings.

You hummed in response.

“Ramen with egg for the lady,” Seungcheol placed a bowl in front of you. “And ramen without eggs for me – Enjoy, from yours truly, Chef Cheol.”

“Thank you, Chef Cheol,” you chuckled, reaching up to place a small peck on his cheek.

A stupid grin on his face, Seungcheol settled in his own chair across for you, watching for your reaction as you take your first bite. A pout formed on your lips as you chewed, letting out an approving nod. Adjusting his chopsticks, he started on his own bowl of noodles. A comfortable silence fell between the two of you as you dug into your dishes, nothing but the sounds of slurping noodles, clatter of utensils, and occasional hums of satisfaction filling the apartment.

Gulping down the last bits of your ramen, you set your chopstick on the table and clasped your hands in your lap. Though, your last bite seemed to get stuck in your throat as anxiety from earlier was starting to fester, surging through your body. You were hesitant to ruin the moment, but curiosity burned your lungs, making it hard for you to breathe properly.

“Do you ever think about what we would be like if this . . . wasn’t fake?” you suddenly asked, your voice soft.

Seungcheol came to a halt, the steaming noodles in front of his mouth as he was just about to take a bite. If he did now, he just might choke, choosing to set his selection back into his bowl. He pressed his lips together, his eyes concentrated on the wave of noodles and amber colored liquid, afraid to look into your innocent eyes boring holes into his skull across the table.

You noticed the way his eyes immediately saddened at your question and the hesitancy in his breathing. It sent arrows through your fragile heart. Rather than the arrow shattering your it, however, it felt like it sat there, staunching the bleed yet still painful.

“We . . . we can’t,” Seungcheol finally croaked.

You frowned, eyes downcast as you fiddled with your thumbs in your lap. Seungcheol shook his head and picked up his chopsticks again, stuffing his face with a mouthful of ramen.

“Why?” you asked.

“You know why,” Seungcheol answered. A moment of silence passed. “A-and . . . it’s not even like you feel the same.”

Oh how it stung to admit that out loud.

You drew your lips in between your teeth, biting the inside of your bottom lip. “And if I told you I did?”

“Then I’d just tell you, you’re confused.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and pressed on anyways. “Last night, you said you liked me.”

He didn’t affirm or refuse – only silence ensued, so you decided to deliver the final blow.

“Was it all a lie then?” you asked. Slowly, you lifted your head to look at Seungcheol, your chin trembling. He licked his lips, still staring into his bowl, still refusing to look at you. You chuckled half-heartedly at the sight of him: his face hardened and emotionless. Tears started welling in your eyes, threatening to spill at any minute. This was stupid – you were stupid for feeling hurt. It’s not like the two of you actually had commitment to one another – again, it was fake. “All part of ‘the girlfriend experience’?”

A pit formed in Seungcheol’s stomach at your words – his, more specifically, that he had spoon-fed you early on in this arrangement. Suddenly, he wasn’t so hungry anymore. The silence was deafening as a million thoughts fogged his thinking. ‘Stung’ was an understatement to describe your assumptions of his affection towards you all these weeks. He was falling in love with you – couldn’t you at least see that much? He was certain no one could fake it the way he adored you.

Yet, despite the urge to wipe your tears and pull you into his chest, whispering sweet nothings and soft I love you’s into the crown of your head, Seungcheol stayed frozen in his seat. Robotically, he ripped his gaze from his bowl, finally having the courage to look at you. Though, he regretted his decision the minute he saw tears glistening across your irises, agony swimming across them – how he hated himself so much in this moment for using you, hurting you.

“Even if we did love each other,” Seungcheol said in a low voice, “I couldn’t do that to Jihoon – or you.”

Pulling your lips in between your teeth, you nodded slowly. It was enough to tell you that even if Seungcheol did like you, he didn’t like you enough to risk it. Not only did he make it clear that he still saw you as the little sister of his best friend, but also just another girl to play the game of hearts with. At the end of the day, he was Choi Seungcheol, heir of Sebong Holdings, and destined for greatness and wealth. He could have anyone he wanted and it wasn’t going to be a regular person like you – even if he knew you his whole life. Perhaps, you were just two lonely souls who found solace in another: You, an innocent and insecure girl with an overprotective brother, afraid to get your heartbroken, and him, a handsome heir who readily opened his arms to whoever walked his way, but not his heart.

Right time, wrong person.

You should’ve known better.

Tapping at your phone, you checked the time, reading: 12:37 in bold white letters. You pushed the bowl of ramen away from you and got up from your seat.

“I-I . . . need to go to my shift,” you told him, swiping at the few tears staining your cheeks.

“I’ll drive you,” Seungcheol offered softly, knowing he had no right to do so after the conversation you just had.

“No,” you said firmly. You looked at him with sullen eyes. “You’ve done more than enough.”

You couldn’t stop thinking about your conversation with Seungcheol for the rest of the day. And it was evident something was on your mind – even Jisoo could tell. From mixing up customers’ orders more than once to burning yourself on the espresso machine – you weren’t your usual diligent and careful self.

The sound of a coffee mug shattering against the tiled floor startled Jisoo from taking the middle-aged woman’s order at the register. Immediately, he turned around to find you in the entryway of the kitchen, blankly staring at the shards scattered before you, not the slightest of distress or anxiety on your face – it was almost as if you were empty. You didn’t make a move to try and pick up the pieces (not that you should’ve), you didn’t look around frantically for a broom to sweep it up, you didn’t call for help.

Politely, he apologized to the customer and excused himself from the register and speed-walked towards you. You hardly seemed to notice him nearing, finally bending over to clean up the mess you made.

“Don’t touch that,” Jisoo called as he saw you reach for a rather pointy piece.

But his warning was too late: blood was already dripping from your finger. Jisoo paused mid-stride, merely stunned at your nonchalant reaction. He had expected you to at least hiss out in pain – a cut of that size surely hurt.

You looked up and stared at him blankly, muttering a soft ‘sorry.’ Jisoo sighed, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. He tugged out a white rag from the side pocket of his brown apron and wrapped it around your finger, applying a small amount of pressure to help stop the bleeding.

“Why don’t you take your break, hm?” Jisoo suggested.

You shook your head. “I’ll clean this up.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, “I’ll sweep it up in a bit after I finish up with this customer.” He pointed to the stool in the corner of the front counter. “I’ll come help you after I’m done – let’s close up early today, okay?”

“But won’t Dongmin –”

Jisoo shook his head, not taking ‘no’ for an answer. “I’ll explain to Dongmin tomorrow – besides, I could use an early day out too.” The corner of his lips curled up in a sympathetic smile.

“Okay,” you muttered. Jisoo placed your other hand around the now blood-stained cloth.

He reached for the crook of your elbow to help you up, leading you to the chair.

Funny how his touch didn’t make your heart stutter anymore.

With the last customer out the door, Jisoo flipped the ‘OPEN’ sign to ‘CLOSE.’ He stuck the brass key into the lock and twisted it closed, pulling on the door handle just to make sure no one would be able to walk in. Feeling the resistance of the lock, he let out a satisfied hum and made his way to the kitchen for the First Aid kit, his eyes lingering on your figure slumped over the counter. Like you had been the whole day, you were staring off into space again, lost in thought. Though you were always quiet, it was always easy to tell what kind of mood you were in. Your eyes always gave it away, whether you were happy, flustered, angry, annoyed – admittedly, it’s the first time Jisoo had seen them hold sorrow.

“Finger,” Jisoo asked, holding his hand out to you. He settled down in the stool next to you and dropped the First Aid kit onto the counter with a clatter.

Sheepishly, you extended your left hand out to him. Jisoo gingerly unwrapped the towel, pleased to see that the bleeding had stopped. With his free hand, Jisoo unbuckled the clasps of the kit and reached for a wet tissue to wipe away the dried blood that stained the crevices of your fingerprint. You winced and let out a small hiss as the chemicals seeped into your wound.

Jisoo gave you an apologetic smile. “Sorry – I’ll be done soon.”

You nodded and let him continue cleaning you up. He blew on your finger gently to dry it off before applying ointment.

“What’s got you all distracted?” Jisoo asked casually.

You peered up at him through your lashes, caught off guard. He looked up from your finger to meet your gaze.

“N-nothing really,” you muttered.

Jisoo reached for the ointment and unscrewed the cap. “It doesn’t seem like ‘nothing’ to me.”

You didn’t respond, letting him brush the ointment across your wound in silence. Wrapping a BandAid around your finger, he settled back, his eyes lingering on his work before deciding he was satisfied. Jisoo grabbed at the scraps and started cleaning up.

“I know we’re not close,” Jisoo finally said, breaking the silence, “But I’m always here if you want to vent or talk, Y/N.”

You swallowed whatever saliva was in your mouth, pressing your lips into a tightline at his sudden offer.

Jisoo let out a half-hearted chuckle at your uneasy reaction. “I’m not sure if I can make it any more obvious, but . . . I’m . . . quite interested in you,” Jisoo nodded sheepishly. Perhaps, he was tired of waiting; perhaps your broken spirit made him want to wrap you in his arms and console you. He wasn’t sure where all this was coming from, truthfully, these words spilling from his lips before he could stop himself.

“I would really like to get to know you,” he continued anyways, “And . . . hopefully, sometime in the near future, be a shoulder to lean on when you're sad; a hand to hold when you’re happy – I wouldn’t have asked you on that date otherwise.”

Your eyes widened in surprise – the date. You had forgotten all about it and never responded.

As if he read your mind, Jisoo asked, “You forgot about it, didn’t you?”

“N-no,” you protested softly, bringing up your finger to your lips. “I-I . . . mean, yes, b-but, I was . . . uh, busy.” You blinked owlishly. “With school and stuff, ya know.”

Jisoo crumpled his lips, unconvinced by your excuse.

You felt really bad. Your mind spun for another reason - something better.

“I was – I am, applying for this study abroad thing in Greece and got caught up in that,” you blurted without thinking twice. When you did realize what you said, you were too late.

Fuck.

No one was supposed to know about Greece – at least not yet.

“Oh?” Jisoo replied.

“Um . . . yeah,” you rubbed the back of your neck. “No one . . . really knows about it yet – not even my brother.”

Jisoo smiled, happy that you shared it with him. “Well, your secret is safe with me, Y/N.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled.

“Um, how about that date?” Jisoo tried again, “I won’t be hurt if you don’t want to go.”

“Right, right – the date,” you shook your head.

If Seungcheol didn’t really want to try it with you, you might as well have a go at it with Jisoo . . . right? And what you had was fake, you reasoned, trying to push down the feeling of guilt bubbling in your stomach.

Jisoo looked at you optimistically, his doe eyes shining.

“S-sure,” you stuttered. You strained a smile, “Let’s go on that date. What did you have in mind?”

#seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol #seungcheol angst #seungcheol fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic

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khepiari · 9 months

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Will Garp Return As Zombie? Spoilers for One Piece 1087+88

Few things before my deep dive:

I have no sympathy for Garp.

Koby, good job being the kind boy you are. You deserved a better world.

But, we all know, one good apple makes no difference when it’s left in the company of a rotten buffet.

Disappearance is not equal to final death

Pretty sure, Odachii is going to bring Garp back with a lost arm or a leg or lost soul in zombified form.

What I mean to say is—if Blackbeard got Gekko Moria’s powers or subjugated him to be his underling, Garp’s corpse will be a great addition to his arsenal.

It will be a great battle for Luffy, psychologically speaking. We all know he never got to sit and talk or punch and scream with Garp about the shared grief of losing Ace.

Only Garp knows what Luffy felt after losing his big brother, but Luffy doesn’t know what Garp felt after the death of a grandson he could’ve saved.

I am sure Luffy has been angry, and he would’ve definitely punched Garp until both were bleeding if they had a reunion but, Luffy would’ve never wanted his only family that he knew since his birth to die.

Now imagine the pain and grief and hurt he will have to overcome to fight his grandpa’s corpse.

It will pierce Luffy’s heart by 1000 cuts, because whatever chances of closure they had, it is no more.

The only hope from this battle for us as readers will be the last remaining consciousness of Garp’s body gaining some control, like how Victoria Cindry’s corpse did during the Thriller Bark Arc.

Since Garp has more will power, maybe he will apologize or ask Luffy to let go of his affection and end him. With that, the last of Luffy’s anger with for good, once Garp dies, and he embraces the fury of the sun god that resides in him; its final show down.

Because we know Blackbeard vs Luffy is going to be about Ace, but if it is about Ace and Garp, Luffy will have a really hard time winning. And most probably this fight will be part of the final war we have been building towards.

As my friend put:

“I can totally see Goda doing that. Luffy beats the crap out of his zombie grandpa, who with his dying breath gives Luffy the apology he’s been owed since Marineford.

And, because symmetry, he does it during the biggest war SINCE Marineford.

There’s also something horribly, appropriately Goda about the idea that Luffy’s first “kill” would be laying a zombie Garp to rest…”

Now time for Anti-Garp Hate Rant! You can stop reading

Yeah, bet your future on the corrupt institution that protects the scum of the world.

My thoughts after this panel.

I hope you rot in hell.

Hero my foot.

Don’t disappear. Just die.

Look, Monkey D Garp is a well written character! And trust me, I understand his position too well; his behaviour and actions are not new to me in fiction!

“Wise overpowered old men helping the wrong side” are very common in Indian/Asian Epics who have pulled similar bullshits in name of duty/justice/greater good. Who later get killed by trickery is everywhere, read Mahabharata or Ramayana, it is full of Garps.

But his decision to not help Ace escape but run after Koby all across the Grandline is enough to fuel my anger against him.

This panel Fuelled my rage further. As my friend put: "All lives are equal, except pirate lives, apparently."

Some argue Garp did everything to let Luffy get close to saving Ace on purpose. He did everything he legally could do. And if he saved Ace, the peace and protection his name brought to Windmill Village would be lost, and it would become the target of Pirates and Marines alike. Sounds plausible, but it's in the realm of speculation.

Old men in a position of power, refusing to intervene when they could’ve, have always used morally superior sounding arguments to get away from being held accountable.

Pushing Ace tragedy aside, If Garp was so strong why didn’t he stop Blackbeard when he had time?

He is no better than Bhishma Pitama from Mahabharata.

I am talking about the two years after Marineford.

What stopped him? He saw Blackbeard wield two DFs, did he and Sengoku only had the duty to protect Marineford? Why did he wait two years? Why didn’t he go after them himself?

Right after Marineford, he should’ve nipped evil in the bud by hunting down Blackbeard. What was holding him back then? The Grief of losing Ace still? Worry about missing Luffy?

Blackbeard is a Pirate, his enemy— who had two of the most powerful DFs in the world. What stopped him? Garp is the only one who could’ve fought because all he needed was Haki! What moral reasoning he had to not wreak havoc to stop this pirate?

Did World Government stop him because Blackbeard became a Yonko?

We now know how strong Garp is, so it was not a question of being injured after the war, we also know he cares not for permission or authority!

So why waste two years?

Only when his favourite student is kidnapped is when he felt the need to intervene.

If it's so-called sense of duty towards the future that made him bet his life on young navy; I am calling it bullshit.

I don’t care for whatever justification he has; if he could fight Blackbeard pirates head-on, he should’ve done it sooner and not let him gain so much power and let him terrorize the world.

I was really hoping that Blackbeard broke his spine. In the end, it's pathetic, he didn’t even die (not confirmed) at hands of Blackbeard.

How did his inaction help the powerless masses he swore to protect?

Who is Garp the hero supposed to represent? Isn’t it Justice? Who is he as a marine supposed to protect? Isn’t it the masses? Who is funding his salary? The taxes collected from masses.

In the end who is he serving?

The Gorosei and Celestial Dragons— yes, he hates them, but his indirect actions or refusal to fight them helped change nothing.

His inaction kept the status quo is intact!

Garp is nothing but a glorified a sell-out too! A poster boy of rebel with a good heart that Marine can capitalize for their propaganda.

You cannot change the world for better if you are part of the system that makes the world a bad place.

I hope he becomes a Zombie under Blackbeard!

#one piece #one piece 1088 #one piece spoilers #one piece manga #monkey d garp #one piece 1088 spoilers #op manga #op manga 1088 #one piece manga spoilers #one piece garp #vice admiral garp #garp the fist #garp one piece #I don’t like monkey d garp

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simply-whump · 9 months

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Firework of My Heart : Episode 23

>> Whump List

#fireworks of my heart #asian whump #whump #cdrama #chinese drama #yang yang #rescued #unconscious #bleeding #worry

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kk095 · 1 year

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Morning Rush Hour

*here's a quick story I came up with. Hope you guys enjoy!*

A slow weekday morning turned busy seemingly out of nowhere when 2 patients were brought into the emergency department after being involved in a high speed car accident with each other. The trauma team split up- Dr Lindsay, nurse Nancy and nurse Heather would take one patient, while Dr Jose, nurse Ashley, and nurse Cara would take the other. The two teams donned their yellow trauma gowns, put on fresh gloves, and waited patiently for the ambulances to arrive.

Sure enough in the coming minutes, the first of the two patients arrived and we’re brought to the first trauma room where Dr Lindsay waited. Her patient would be Jen- a cute, petite, 33 year old Asian woman with shoulder length dark hair who worked as an assistant manager at a local bank. Jen arrived at the ER in full cardiac arrest. She laid on a backboard intubated, wearing a c-collar, her eyes half open with a dull, expressionless gaze. IV lines were sticking out of both arms, EKG electrodes were all over her chest, and her nude body was littered with cuts, bruises, and abrasions. From what the medics gathered, Jen had sustained major blunt trauma to the chest and abdomen from the deceleration force of the accident. The medics mentioned Jen had been down for 8 minutes, was defibrillated 3 times, and given 2 doses of epinephrine and atropine intravenously. With the medic’s quick rundown to the ER team, it was now up to Lindsay, Heather, and Nancy to resuscitate the cute, 33 year old bank manager. “alright, let’s transfer her on my count. One… two… THREE!” Dr Lindsay ordered. The monitors beeped loudly and frequently during the transfer since CPR was temporarily stopped. Nurse Heather resumed CPR, delivering deep, violent chest compressions on the petite woman.

While Dr Lindsay’s half of the trauma team began working passionately to save Jen, the second patient arrived. Patient #2 was Carly- a 21 year old community college student who stood at 5’9 with a tall, skinny build, had blue eyes and fair skin, electric blue hair with bangs, and had numerous tattoos and piercings. Carly laid on a backboard wearing a c-collar as well. She was awake, alert, and in tremendous pain. Carly had sustained an open femur fracture on her left leg, which was reduced and stabilized by the medics, while also having some bruising and swelling on her abdomen. Carly’s blood pressure was low and her heart rate was high, which was a clear indication of shock. She was transferred onto the trauma room table underneath the large overhead light, and Dr Jose began his initial examination of her. Since her vital signs showed evidence of shock, Dr Jose decided to hang 2 units of o-neg, 1 unit of platelets, and 1 unit of plasma. While palpating the bruised area of Carly’s abdomen, she winced in pain as the doctor felt that area. “abdomen is tender and rigid. Let’s get an ultrasound.” The doctor ordered. Nurse Ashley set up the ultrasound machine and squirted the gel onto Carly’s abdomen. Dr Jose grabbed the ultrasound wand and spread the gel around, taking a look at the monitor. “bleeding in the upper left quadrant. Probably a splenic lac. Let’s get her over to radiology for a CT scan of her abdomen and leg, then page surgery and Ortho, let’s keep them in the loop.” Dr Jose ordered. With that said, Carly was taken out of the ER and wheeled over to radiology by that half of the trauma team.

Meanwhile, Jen was still being coded violently in the neighboring trauma room. Lindsay discovered and left sided tension pneumothorax, so a chest tube was placed while Carly was being examined, but Jen still remained in full cardiac arrest. An echocardiogram showed cardiac tamponade, so Dr Lindsay decided to perform a pericardiocentesis. Dr Lindsay inserted an 18 gauge needle into the 6th intercostal space, and into the apex of Jen’s heart. Lindsay was met with intermittent aspiration of partially coagulated blood. She positioned the needle at a slightly different angle and carefully moved it a few millimeters further into the patient’s chest, finally obtaining more steady drainage from the site. Lindsay pulled back on the plunger of the needle, filling the body of the needle up with a rather large amount of blood quickly. Lindsay removed the needle and did an echocardiogram, which showed that blood was almost instantly re-entering the pericardium once again. “crap. Get me a thoracotomy tray, I need to open her up.” Dr Lindsay said, shaking her head. Jen’s chest was splashed with betadine and Dr Lindsay picked up a scalpel in anticipation of the first cut.

Over in radiology, Carly was receiving a CT scan. The leg portion of the CT scan showed that the femur only had one, albeit, large break, and didn’t have any impact on any surrounding structures such as nerves or blood vessels. The abdominal portion of the CT scan was performed with contrast to see if the source of Carly’s internal bleeding could be traced to a vessel, or if it was an injury to the spleen alone. The CT scan with contrast confirmed the spleen injury, but it also showed that the splenic artery was partially detached from the abdominal aorta. “page surgery, she needs to go up there asap.” Dr Jose says, looking at the scan. Once again, Carly was taken out of radiology and rushed over to a nearby elevator. Jose breaks the news to Carly about needing surgery. “surgery? What’s going on?! Am I gonna be ok?!” she asks nervously in response. “we need to get you up to surgery to fix your leg and the bleeding inside your belly. You’re gonna be in great hands- I promise!” Dr Jose tells Carly. The girl still seemed nervous, but she knew she didn’t have much of an option. She was shocked this was how her morning turned out anyway. She almost wished she was sitting in her boring algebra class instead of on a gurney in a hospital. “It’s gonna be ok. I’ll be ok. They know what they’re doing.” Carly thought to herself, attempting to calm her nerves. The elevator dinged and the door opened, and she was wheeled out. In a matter of what felt like a few seconds, she was in an operating room, being prepped for her upcoming surgery.

Back in the ER, Jen’s chest was cracked open. A vascular clamp was placed on the descending portion of the aorta, with one end of the clamp sticking out of her chest. The pericardium was incised and the tamponade was relieved, but there was an active bleed in Jen’s chest cavity that Lindsay couldn’t find for the life of her. The incision site filled with blood over and over again, requiring multiple attempts at suction. Lindsay wrapped her hands around Jen’s heart, pumping it forcefully with her own two hands. “come on…come on…” Lindsay said under her breath, looking down at Jen. Jen was pasty white, and her eyes were still half open, staring blankly at the ceiling. “v-fib on the monitors Linds” nurse Nancy called out. “ok. Charge the internal paddles to 20!” Lindsay ordered. The large, spoon shaped paddles were handed to Lindsay, and the first shock was delivered. A dull, wet thump was heard. Jen’s heart stopped for a few seconds, then began fluttering again. “still in v-fib, I’m gonna hit her again at 30.” Dr Lindsay called out. The 2nd shock caused Jen’s toes to curl, showing off the soft, silky wrinkles throughout the soles of her size 7 feet. “damn it, still nothing. Resuming internal compressions.” Lindsay said frustrated, reaching her hands back into Jen’s bloody mess of a chest cavity.

Up in the OR, Carly was prepped for surgery. She was sedated, intubated, and had a blue bouffant cap placed, which almost matched her hair color. Carly’s surgery would have 2 teams working side by side- an orthopedics team to focus on her femur fracture, while a trauma surgery team focused on removing the spleen and repairing the partially torn artery. Carly’s belly was coated in betadine and the opening cut was made. Her abdomen was accessed by a paramedian incision. This was a vertical cut a few centimeters to the left of the abdominal midline. The goal of this was to expose the spleen and the injured artery more easily. A conventional midline incision would be more difficult since more tissue would have to be retracted, and the rectus abdominis muscle would have to be separated, then put back together during closure. Upon entry to her abdomen, there wasn’t much blood loss. In the coming minutes, the stomach and surrounding tissues were retracted, and the spleen was able to be identified. Partial occlusion clamps were placed on the vasculature of the spleen to limit blood loss during the removal of the damaged organ.

Just as Carly’s surgery was getting started, Jen was still being coded back in the ER. “ok, shocking again at 30. Everyone clear!” Lindsay shouted, with the electric whirring of the internal paddles being heard. A dull, wet thunk was heard once the shock was delivered. Jen’s torso flopped in response while her eyes stared lifelessly off to the side. The blood soaked internal paddles were recharged to 30, and Lindsay shocked her patient again. Jen’s feet kicked up slightly, slamming back down in a millisecond, wrinkling the soles of her pretty feet. “still v-fib, shocking again.” Lindsay called out. The paddles were lowered back into Jen’s chest around her twitching heart, and the shock was delivered. The same wet ka-thunk was heard. Jen’s heart twitched and fluttered erratically for a few seconds before falling completely still. The monitors were flatlined, and Lindsay just stood there for a moment holding the internal paddles. She sighs, then puts the internal paddles back on the crash cart. “she’s gone. Time of death, 9:25am.” Lindsay says in a defeated tone, taking her bloody gloves off. The flatlined monitors were switched off and the ambu bag was detached from the ET tube. The EKG electrodes were disconnected from Jen’s chest and her eyes were gently shut for the final time. Her body was covered with a sheet, only leaving her toe tagged feet exposed, bringing a tragic end to her case. Nurse Heather went through Jen’s belongings that the medics brought in and saw that Jen’s phone was going nuts from her job. “hey Jen, hope everything’s ok. I heard there was a bad accident on 31 so take your time coming in today.” A female voice on one of the messages said, completely oblivious to the fact that Jen was the one in said accident, and just had her time of death called. Heather shook her head, “wow… we may have to reach out to them. Me and Nancy will see if we can track down a husband, boyfriend, parent- someone who’s related to her too.” Heather said to Lindsay. “yeah, get on that whenever you can. Death notifications are always hard, so let me know if you need me to step in.” Lindsay replied.

Fortunately, there was only 1 death in this tragic accident. The surgical team was able to repair Carly’s fractured femur via internal reduction and fixation. Carly would now have a rod and some pins in her leg, setting off metal detectors for the rest of her life, but she had a functioning leg. Her spleen was removed and the partially detached vessel was anastomosed to the aorta, and the extra vessels of the spleen were rerouted since it was removed. Carly had a long road of recovery ahead of her, but ultimately pulled through.

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