#the trauma code: heroes on call fic

[melodyanqel]

𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐘 ── ✶ b.kh (01. nervous wreck)

a freshly new face enters the world of the trauma unit who is sweet and pure, yet becomes everyone’s favorite surgeon. even her stern and tough rival has a soft spot. and possibly more than that.

⇢ pairing: baek kang-hyuk x fem!oc

⇢ genre/tags: fluff, angst, drama, suspense, developing relationship, trauma team as a family, humor, friendship, workplace romance, medical field, protective!tsundere!kang-hyuk, sunshine!soft!curvy!oc

⇢ note: this was honestly so fun to write and i'm actually proud of myself lol. have a happy reading!

⇢ wc: 1.7k words

⇢ text key: inner monologue

Are scrubs and badge on? Yes. 

Does she look like a nurse? Yes.

Is she mentally prepared? Not so much. 

Bo-ra has been anxious since the entire morning, and she hasn’t shaken off the tension. However, she knows what she signed up for because, as a little girl, she passionately thought about becoming a nurse when she got older. And now, after graduating with a bachelor's degree as a trauma surgeon, Bo-ra is committed to starting her first day at Hankuk National University Hospital. Even though the place has been notorious for lacking management, patient care, and support for the trauma unit, she hopes to bring improvement to save people’s lives. 

*Bark*

A cute corgi lets out a loud bark to help its human return to the real world. He can tell she is nervous because he is a smart boy. 

Bo-ra jolts from the sound and looks at Pudding in shock. “Don’t scare me like that!” She scolded the dog, who was smiling happily. Bo-ra groans and sits on the rug to pet Pudding. He licks her hand to give her comforting kisses. “I’m worried, Pudding. I might do something stupid and get fired on my first day.” She has been overthinking it like it’s the end of the world. 

Abruptly, Pudding tapped his nose onto her pouting lips. Bo-ra giggles at the sweet and innocent dog’s affection. He is trying his best to cheer her up and uplift her mood. “Thank you so much. I should start heading out now.” Bo-ra appreciates Pudding. He barks as a response to encourage her to run along and be a surgeon. 

Once she gathers herself, Bo-ra says goodbye to Pudding and leaves the apartment. She is praying she’ll make it through the day. 

While entering the subway station, she receives a text from her best friend, Yang Jae-won. He is also a doctor for HNUH with a kind soul and would never hurt a fly. Except he is a bit clumsy and wimpy sometimes. 

Bestie (Jae-won): Are you coming now?

Bo-ra: Yes, I’m on my way. Is it crazy over there?

Bestie (Jae-won): Not yet. However, we have a new experienced doctor whom you should be careful of. 

As she reads the message, it sounds concerning. Bo-ra isn’t sure if Jae-won was giving her a warning because it just added more pressure to her anxiety. When the subway arrives, she sits on an empty seat and texts Jae-won back.

Bo-ra: Nice to know. I hope I’ll survive.

Bestie (Jae-won): You’ll do great! I’m excited to work with you.

The young surgeon’s lips draw a smile, and her heart warms. Jae-won is always so generous that Bo-ra feels lucky to have him in her life. Two best friends working together at the same hospital is like an achievement. Bo-ra appreciates him through text before plugging in her headphones into her phone. Music soothes her mind and serves as a distraction from the doubts. Bo-ra was also thinking about Pudding because he was her only baby. 

𝐇𝐀𝐍��𝐔𝐊 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐋

After the subway trip, Bo-ra stands in front of the hospital like a statue. She has been like that for a minute now. The people passing by either mind their own business or give her glances as if she is lost. 

Jae-won texted her to go to the lobby, and they’ll meet there. Bo-ra inhales and exhales to ease the jitters. She remembers the first time she worked at a retail company, and she would stutter so much. The customers thought she was sick or had a bad speech impediment. Bo-ra moves her legs because it’s time to be a full-on doctor mode. 

Going inside, she notices a crowd of healthcare workers scattered in their white coats and scrubs. Then her chocolate brown gaze lands on a handsome man with round glasses that Harry Potter would wear—although he looks cute with them. 

Bo-ra yells, “Jae-won!” And waves her hand in the air.

Her calling caught his attention, and he immediately ran to her with open arms. “Bo-ra! You’re here!” Jae-won brings her into a big hug and lifts her off the ground to spin in circles. Bo-ra playfully demands, “Put me down, I’ll get dizzy!” Plus, people, especially older colleagues, are judging them. 

Jae-won obeys her and sets her back down. He pulls away to have a good look at his friend. She has been the same Bo-ra since elementary school; adorable, beautiful, and radiant like the sun. But it does feel strange to think that she is a surgeon. Girls like her would be scared of blood, open body parts, and anything grotesque. 

However, he doesn’t think low of Bo-ra because he has seen her working hard to graduate from college and medical school. So, Jae-won is looking forward to her efforts. 

He lends Bo-ra his arm, “Let’s go?” A gentle grin plays on his charming face. 

Bo-ra nods to indicate she is ready and takes his arm to hold. 

The duo starts making their way to the trauma station. They step into the elevator and go to the upper level. Jae-won looks at Bo-ra with interest. “Do you know your schedule for today?” He asked. She tells him, “Yes. I have to meet with the trauma doctor, who will be training me, and once I understand the logistics, I’ll be your colleague.” Bo-ra predicts she will have her hands dirty sooner or later. 

Jae-won chuckles when she calls herself his ‘colleague.’ He denies it. “No, you’re not just a co-worker to me. You’ll be my emotional support and savior in case something happens. Remember what we promised when we were kids?” He brings up the oath that they made years ago. 

Of course, Bo-ra would remember it. 

“We’ll stick together until the very end.” She recites their childhood promise. It may sound cheesy, but Bo-ra truly takes it to heart, and Jae-won does the same. 

The male doctor had a gleeful smile when she said it. “That’s right.” He simply spoke. Bo-ra snickers because Jae-won is too much, sometimes. 

*Ding*

The elevator doors slide open, and the two step out. Bo-ra watches multiple professions doing their jobs, like the nurses behind the desk, and patients being treated by the doctors. Like any other hospital, there are many injured people on ICU beds. This is now her second home. 

“Ugh, can it be lunch already?” 

A nurse with short hair tied up and wearing purple scrubs whines. She is typing away on her keyboard, almost like a robot. She is checking the time on her phone then and there. All she wants is food and a break. 

The young woman groans and stops typing to sit back in her chair. She was about to use her phone for a minute, but her eyes landed on Jae-won and a girl, a very pretty girl, to be exact. She has long, dark brown hair in a high ponytail with a small white bow, a round face with delicate features, and is petite with a curvy form. The nurse hops from her chair and runs around the desk to approach Jae-won and the unknown girl. 

“Yang Jae-won. You didn’t tell me you were taken. I thought you were too shy.” 

The nurse has her arms crossed and a sly smirk on her rosy lips. 

Jae-won becomes astounded with wide eyes like an owl. He shakes his head in panic. “N-No, Jang-mi! First off, this is my friend and the new doctor, Son Bo-ra. And second, I can date whenever I want to.” He pouts but hates to admit he is shy, yet he has some confidence. 

The nurse, Jang-mi, gapes her mouth. “Oh, my mistake!” She says and laughs it off. Jae-won is unamused while Bo-ra is intrigued to know more about Jang-mi. She lets go of her best friend's arm to introduce herself properly. She bows to Jang-mi, “Hello, I’m Son Bo-ra. It’s nice to meet you.” The new doctor greets her colleague. 

Silence.

It went quiet for a little bit. The next thing she knows, Jang-mi is squeezing the life out of her. 

“YOU’RE SO CUTE! YOU HAVE THE PRETTIEST VOICE, FACE, AND CHEEKS I WANT TO SQUISH!” 

Her outburst caused everyone to stop to see what was happening. Even the semi-conscious patients heard Jang-mi's loud voice. Jae-won gets worried because she is acting foolish. “Yah! We need to be professional, Jang-mi!” He repeatedly pats her right arm. 

Thankfully, the nurse listens to him and lets go of Bo-ra. She looks at Jae-won with a contented expression. “I couldn’t help it. She is like an angel sent from heaven.” Jang-mi speaks airily because she likes Bo-ra at first sight. 

“Thank you for the kind words.” The petite woman blushes with appreciation. Jang-mi hears her and coos. “Aww, you’re welcome.” She has the urge to put Bo-ra in her pocket. 

Jae-won sighs in relief. He was about to say something, but was interrupted by an aggressive voice. 

“Yah! Anus! Why are you standing around having a field day?” 

There comes a tall man with slick back jet-black hair, tan skin, and a stern look on his face. He is coming close to the trio with long strides like a panther. His intimidation is so intense that Jae-won instantly apologizes. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Baek! I was about to take Bo-ra to your office, but it didn’t happen.” He sheepishly looks down at his crocs. 

Dr. Baek, or Baek Kang-hyuk, rolled his sharp eyes. “Well, you and Gangster get back to work.” He commands them in a serious tone of voice. Jae-won nodded, and Jang-mi stayed quiet but would do as he said. 

“And you, Mandu (dumpling).” Kang-hyuk points his index finger at Bo-ra. “Meet me at my office.” He makes his last demand and leaves the area. 

Bo-ra didn’t know she was holding in her breath until Jang-mi pats her back. “Good luck with that.” She gives her an ounce of support and goes to the reception desk. Her words sounded unenthusiastic. But then, Bo-ra begins to realize what Jae-won mentioned earlier.

She turns to him. “Is he the doctor I should be careful of?” She wonders. 

Jae-won purses his lips and answers, “Yeah. He is Dr. Baek. He can be a little harsh. But you’ll be fine, okay?” He delivers a reassuring smile and a side hug. Bo-ra just nodded, but on the inside, she was utterly terrified. 

This is it. I’ll be seeing my ancestors. 

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[burningembers91]

Welcome to my blog!

I currently write for:

Squid Game

Seong Gi-Hun

The Salesman

Park Gyeong-Seok

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Hwang In-Ho

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Park Min-Su

Gyeong-Su

Cho Hyun-Ju

Nam-Gyu

The Guest

Father Choi Yoon

The Gangster, The Cop, The Devil

Jang Dong-Soo

The Trauma Code: Heroes on Call

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Park Gyeong-Won

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Bad and Crazy

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Do In-Beom

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Bloodhounds

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Please note that I only take requests in the form of short prompts, like the ones listed below. If you would like to submit a lyric or quote that isn't listed below, please send it in and I'll see what I can do. I do not write fics based on detailed storylines given to me by others. This is because I already have my storylines fleshed out, along with characters, worlds, plot lines etc.

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[tonycries]

TONYYY HIII!!!

Ignore how I quite literally forgot I was supposed to send you some K-drama recs to watch. 🥲

But uh yeah. From my last post, as promise, series to watch as a brake from scrumptious smuts :)

•"Sell Your Haunted House"

•"Whats Wrong with Secretary Kim?"

•"My Demon" (u might have to specify My Demon - K-drama series because as I am aware, there's a lot of movies/series that have the same or similar name)

•"The Trauma Code: Heroes on Call"

•"Ghost Doctor"

•"Business Proposal"

•"Love Game In Eastern Fantasy" (This is actually Chinese not Korean but I really, really love it so I thought about adding it just cause. I think I mentioned it before in like a old post of mine but never hurts to remention something from time to time)

•"Crash Landing On You"

I have a few more dramas I can give but just for now have some of this(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)(⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

Grabs ur newest fic and makes a run for it

-🌟🦈

HIHIII LOVELY!! Wahhhh thank yew so much for these recs heheh I've been having a severe drought of things to watch ❗ I acc heard of some of these, quick- someone tell me what to watch first:

[jazlynriddle-starwars]

Master Will Protect You Ch 2:

Summary:

Two months after Mustafar, Darth Vader meets his demise at the feet of a Kyber Crystal. Faced with the truth—that Obi-Wan never left him. That his Master still hasn’t. Seeking to be Anakin Skywalker again, he turns on Sidious, who curses him with his dying breath. Now Anakin is crippled, broken, haunted, and utterly dependent on Obi-Wan’s care. And Obi-Wan... Obi-Wan is struggling to balance being a good Jedi, doing his duty and taking care of Anakin. Because Anakin's trust is just so addictive, the word Master has too many meanings, and Obi-Wan no longer feels like a hero. He feels like he's becoming the one monster Anakin can’t see coming.

Warnings/Tags: Mild gore, erotic horror, psychological, trauma/character study, slow burn, angst with a happy ending!

You can also read on AO3! (chapter specific warnings below)

Notes:

Warnings: All the gory aftercare that comes with plucking someone's eyeballs out. Well, when you like them, that is xP

Whew, this week was really busy, but since there seem to be so many more people excited to read this fic's next chapter than I expected, I tried to rush this fic's Chapter 2 through the editing phase, and quickly finished this chapter's end notes in time to upload it alongside Chapter 4 of Barely Functional Without You. Let's just say I'm probably not going to do this again, I am so tired- This fic is heavier and needs more thought out end notes than What Could have Been...

Next chapter will probably be up in a week, I'll try my best but I might have to push it to 2 weeks. I've actually been planning a trip to Japan with my friends and partner at the end of the year, which is rough because we gotta plan around my disabilities, but I'm grateful to have people who insist on lugging me around anyway xD

It'll be my first time going to Japan, so I'm pretty nervous haha- at least my bestie has studied Japanese and my partner and I can at least understand basic conversational Japanese, even if we're not great at speaking it, all the broken ass grammar here xP

Okay, enough about me, please enjoy the chapter!

Darkness. Pain. Blinding pain. Anakin can't even lift his eyelids for how much agony they're in. Though it's dull enough of a throb for him to know that they've been hurting for a long time. Long enough for his body to have gotten used to it. He can feel a cloth tied around his head, it's damp in the front, where it covers his eyes. They feel weird. And there's a strange pressure inside his head.

He remembers killing Sidious, searching for Obi-Wan, finding him on Tatooine, his Master lowering his saber, calling his name, awash with relief. His Master's gentle touch, those warm hands he'd missed so badly, Obi-Wan's worn face and sad eyes, then pain...

What happened?

‘Your precious Master ripped our eyes out.’

Anakin bristles at Sidious’ voice. Our? That was rich of him, to claim shared ownership of his karking body.

‘We're sharing for now, brat. Get used to it.’

He sighs internally, at least the Sith seems to be quiet now, no longer fighting him actively for control. The only pain in his body, besides generalised aching... is the sharp sting radiating from his eyes. Was he right? Had Obi-Wan... blinded him? Was that why Sidious wasn't fighting for control? His body is crippled and not in any condition to be useful?

Was that what his Master had been trying to do?

‘Maybe. Or maybe he just wants you crippled, and he would have done this even if I weren't here.’

He wouldn't. Obi-Wan was the perfect Jedi. The epitome of everything good and kind.

Sidious’ cackle grates on his nerves, ‘that's funny, boy. You'll be surprised what the Jedi can be capable of. Some of the most depraved people come out of that type of attachment chastity and pious Code adherence.’

Depraved? Anakin scoffs, that word couldn't apply to Obi-Wan, the man had had many opportunities to take advantage of Anakin. He never took them.

No matter how much he wanted his Master to.

‘Well, that's disgusting. Spare me your childish fantasies of love.’

Don't like it, then get out. Anakin huffs.

‘Oh, I will. I'll bide my time, you'll recover eventually.’ He can feel the smirk in Sidious’ voice. ‘One way or another, I'll wear one of you as my new skin.’

One of you? Anakin stiffens, the Sith is considering taking Obi-Wan's body instead? Anger surges through him. Was it not enough for Sidious to have ruined him? That he would seek to destroy the one person Anakin has left in this whole karking universe. The one person who continued to love him.

‘Ruined you? I have done nothing to you boy. Everything you've wrought, is your own doing.’

Anakin flinches at that, pain lancing through his heart, unable to retort as shame and guilt burns his insides. With that, the Sith's presence retreats to the back of his mind, perhaps to avoid the pain. It doesn't completely fade, but the overbearing pressure eases somewhat and he almost feels normal. Somehow that's more unsettling. Like Anakin might forget the precarious position he's in.

He gets the feeling that the Sith is tired, after trying so hard to take over his body and fighting Obi-Wan. He's as tired from the pain as Anakin is. He can't help but feel anxious at that, even if the Sith wasn't paying attention to him, Anakin knows the man is still there, in the back of his mind, watching and waiting. He'll have to stay on guard.

Every time. Every time he tried to be good for Obi-Wan. He always ended up bringing trouble for his Master instead. Now, he's brought Sidious within range of hurting Obi-Wan too. He just can't do anything right. Every time he tries to protect those he loves, he only makes things worse, brings danger to them instead.

The harder he tries, the worse things become. In one moment of weakness and exhaustion, he'd thrown away every achievement he'd fought for in the war. He'd wanted to believe it was so easy, so simple. Just obey, and he would have Padme, a peaceful galaxy for his child to grow up in. An end to the war.

Surely the man who was clever and powerful enough to control the entire galaxy could grant him so simple a wish. To allow Anakin to rest, to stop thinking, stop worrying, just obey mindlessly and everything would work out fine.

His Master wouldn't die to clones so easily. And if he told Obi-Wan that the Jedi were evil, had betrayed the Republic, he'd surely come to Anakin's side. He would believe Anakin. If not... if his Master wouldn't even try to understand him, then at least he would still have his family.

As much as it would pain him not to have Obi-Wan included in it. It wouldn't be his fault if his Master loved the Jedi and his precious Code more than the boy he'd raised. The boy who loved his Master more than the Code or the Jedi that he too had pledged himself to.

He'd been torn between his love for Obi-Wan and his need for Padme for so long.

He was just tired.

Bone achingly tired.

Tired of everything.

Tired of having to choose.

He'd always known, deep down, that his place among the Jedi wasn't sustainable. He was too different from them. If it took all his strength just to be a rebellious, reckless, maverick, Code-breaking Jedi—not even a ‘good Jedi’—the day would eventually come when he collapsed and was no longer able to play the role.

But there were so many people who believed in him, Master Qui-Gon who had died, convinced that he would be a great Jedi. Padme who always saw the best in him. His Master, Obi-Wan, the man who gave Anakin a decade of his life and effort. He didn't want to let them down. So he tried every trick he could, to make it sustainable. Breaking rules just enough to keep himself afloat.

Seeking Padme's love and encouragement, drawing strength from it in order to continue serving as a Jedi. To remind himself of the good he was doing, the people he was helping, even though he suffered under the strain of being the Chosen One, of being a General in a never-ending war. Of making mistake after mistake and seeing his men die for each one.

It would almost be a relief to take off his mask, for Obi-Wan to finally throw him away. Then he could stop fearing the day Obi-Wan would realise that he wasn't what his Master wanted. That Anakin couldn’t be the Jedi his Master wanted. He could finally stop yearning for his Master's love, the love he knew Obi-Wan would never give him. Even if Anakin were the perfect Jedi. Because Obi-Wan was.

And that very perfection he so admired, meant his Master would never love Anakin the way he wanted.

He thought that if he accelerated the process. Fast forward to game over. Rip off the bandaid. Cauterise all his festering wounds with one swing. At least then he could finally lay down his head and rest.

Only for all his worst fears to come true. When he finally collapsed under the weight of it all, not only did Obi-Wan abandon him as Anakin always thought he would. So did Padme. The one he'd thought would always forgive him, the one who understood.

And it was his own Master who told her what he'd done, the truth she didn't need to know. The cost of their child's future, what was supposed to have been Anakin's burden alone to bear.

Obi-Wan had been the one who turned her against him. It was personal, wasn't it? To punish Anakin for not being what he was supposed to be. For not being a Jedi, for caving to his feelings. For being a disappointment.

But he should have known, his Master could never make anything easy for him. Obi-Wan couldn’t simply battle him, put his former Padawan to the proof, couldn’t even give Anakin the bare minimum that he was willing to settle for.

Obi-Wan was supposed to attack him in righteous fury and anger, to try to kill Anakin for his betrayal. Then either Anakin would win the honour of shepherding his Master into the netherworld of the Force and overcome his constant sense of inferiority. Or Obi-Wan would finally grant Anakin freedom from his endless longing.

At the hand of the only person Anakin could bear to die to. As it was always meant to be.

Instead, Obi-Wan left him and the ache only got worse. Bereft of Padme's comfort, and his final battle against his Master ruined by what he thought was Sidious’ intervention. His longing became even more unbearable. His loneliness, even more omnipresent and all encompassing.

It was supposed to have been an end. Not the start of even greater torment.

He'd lost everything, his family, his Master and his legs. No longer could he even walk his own path. He'd become an empty vessel. Blindly serving. Because looking at himself, what he'd become, was too agonising.

Pain tightens his chest, how fitting, for this to be his fate, after choosing to close his eyes for the last two months.

Now he will never get to see.

Not himself, the harm his very existence brings... or anything else ever again.

He must have made a sound, because he hears movement near him and freezes.

“Shhh, it's alright.” Obi-Wan's voice is exactly what he needed and didn't want to hear right now. Calling him back into a reality he wants to hide away from. “I'm here, my dear.”

His Master's words make his heart ache. His voice is soft and gentle, like it had been when Obi-Wan confessed that he couldn’t bear to kill him. Tender in a way Anakin hasn't heard in years.

Not since he'd kissed his Master in a drunken stupor. Anakin can barely remember it. His Master never spoke of it, but his behaviour had changed a little. A little less relaxed, a little less open, less than he'd already been. It had hurt, being rejected so viscerally, but he'd shouldered Obi-Wan's disgust and discomfort as well as he could. Sought refuge in Padme's memory instead, and then later, in her arms.

It still brings him pain to think of her, of what he'd done in his anger. He misses Padme.

Her warm and easy embrace, like his mother's. Free and open with her love. None of the restraint that came with even the slightest glimmer of affection that Obi-Wan would occasionally offer him. The shadow of the Jedi Code, the Council's disapproval, haunting every quiet moment he shared with Obi-Wan.

Now Obi-Wan is all he has left, the mere possibility that his Master still wants him is enough. Anakin is so hungry, so starved that he will take whatever he can get. The barest glimmer of affection would be a mouthful of water in the desert. Spectre of the Jedi Code? Sure. Anakin will take whatever little Obi-Wan is willing to give him.

He has nothing else.

No family. No love. No hate. No anger. No home. No meaning. No goal. No path.

Not even the ability to find his way.

“Master...” Anakin whispers, lifts a hand, reaching through the void. He... he's scared.

He doesn't know where he is. He can't see.

The pain in his head makes it impossible to focus enough to sense his surroundings in the Force, each agonising throb disrupting any semblance of clarity.

He can hear the humming whistle of wind, the sound of air moving past a hollow opening. The rumble and clatter of machinery running. It reminds him of the vaporators he'd grown up with. The rustle of cloth and sand. The echoing cries of an animal somewhere in the distance. The clomp of hooves in grit. The fabric under his back is hard and its surface rough. His nose filled with the stench of rust.

While the circumstances are new, the fear itself is familiar. One he'd felt many times as a child. A curse he knows the remedy to. He doesn't know where his Master is, but he reaches out anyway.

He needs to touch Obi-Wan, something to ground himself. A way to know his Master is even still there.

He feels Obi-Wan's familiar hands encircle his own. Those rough and calloused fingers that taught him how to fight, how to live. It brings him comfort, makes his breath catch in his throat, but it's not enough. He doesn't know what expression his Master is wearing.

He will never look upon Obi-Wan again for the rest of his life.

It hurts. To have this taken from him when they are finally reunited. When he has the forgiveness he couldn’t even bear to desire before. When his Master is giving him the gentleness he'd missed so dearly from his early Padawan days. He wishes he'd at least gotten to see his Master's face more clearly.

One last time.

“Anakin...” Obi-Wan's voice is thick now, choked with emotion. “I– I'm sorry... I took... I took your–”

The words turn into sobs, and his heart hurts even more. Whatever reasons his Master had for doing this, for hurting him this way, it was clearly hurting Obi-Wan just as much. Anakin knows how that feels. So for once, he puts aside his pain, gives his Master a chance, it's the least Anakin owes him.

“...eyes.” Anakin finishes for him and bites his lip. He knows this will hurt Obi-Wan, but he has to know for sure. “Master... why?”

Obi-Wan's hands are trembling around his own. He can feel the slightest shift, hear the rustle of his Master's cloth and the shake in his breath. It's strange, overwhelming, how much sharper the rest of his senses have become. Is it because of losing his eyes? It's almost enough to distract him from Obi-Wan's answer.

“I'm sorry. But, please understand, Anakin. We can't risk it. If Sidious possesses your body...” Obi-Wan swallows audibly. “This is the only way I can let you live. I– I don't want to kill you, Padawan mine...”

His words sound so broken, if he still had eyes, Anakin imagines they would be wide. He feels the cloth over his eyes dampen further. Anakin wants to see his face. He wants to see Obi-Wan's face as he says this. It's not fair. The universe has stolen so much from him, now this. Even this. The barest glimmer of kindness, letting him see his Master's face as he calls Anakin his.

Home.

He has a home again.

Or maybe... maybe he'd always had it.

Maybe it has always been Obi-Wan.

Maybe he has always been blind, long before he lost his eyes.

“Master...” Anakin clutches at Obi-Wan's hand, claws up it, feeling his way to his Master's neck.

He hears Obi-Wan's breath catch, even if it's from fear, he doesn't care. He pulls and buries his face in Obi-Wan's shoulder, chokes out. “Obi-Wan– Master... yours, still– I'm still– always...”

He's trembling, Anakin knows he is trembling, but he doesn't care, clutching at Obi-Wan, struggling to put his thoughts and feelings into words. He was already bad at that, but the pain numbing half his face and skull makes it even harder. He doesn't know if he's getting it across, but he feels Obi-Wan grip him tightly around the shoulders.

“Anakin...” His Master whispers, like the word is precious, and it's everything he's ever wanted.

He squeezes the cloth in his hand into a water filled bucket. The water turns red. Obi-Wan feels his stomach churn with nausea as he brings it back to the boy's face. Braces himself before lifting Anakin's lid to look into the gaping red insides. He pats away the blood oozing out and tries to empty his mind as he carefully removes the last blood-soaked pieces of gauze from the space inside.

He wipes away any traces of blood and begins to line the twitching walls of the cavity with fresh pieces of sterile gauze, soaked in bacta, from the very small stash of medical supplies he'd left Bail Organa's ship with. He's glad he hasn't gotten injured much during the last two months here and his medical kit is still well stocked.

Obi-Wan has handled many injuries in his time on the battlefield. Seen gore the likes of which he wishes he could forget. But nothing compares to this. The empty void that now exists under Anakin's eyelids.

He's changed out the gauze twice already in the last six hours and the bleeding has slowed to a trickle. The bacta helping to stitch together the torn blood vessels and nerves. After stuffing the cavity with the new set of bacta soaked gauze, he lets the eyelids close over them and wraps a bandage around Anakin's head.

At least the bacta should accelerate healing and prevent infection, that would be the last thing they need out in the middle of the desert with no surgeons or doctors to be found. He has a pot of water where he's boiling pieces of cloth to sterilise them, and he uses them to keep Anakin's face clean as he waits for his boy to recover.

His boy...

Is he? Should he be? Does Anakin deserve it? Does Obi-Wan deserve it?

Even after everything Anakin had done. Even like this, Obi-Wan still wants him. Still loves him. His boy, his child, his Padawan, his apprentice, his brother. Anakin was everything. He's still everything. If Anakin really wants to repent, Obi-Wan is more than ready to love him again. Because he never really stopped. Even when he should have.

But he shouldn't. This is dangerous. For himself. There's too much at stake to risk it. To risk himself. To risk Luke. To risk the entire galaxy and the balance of the Force itself. He really shouldn't.

He can already feel his sanity fraying.

Having Anakin here—with him—it’s making him unravel.

Especially after what he did.

He has no excuse. No sane reason for what happened.

What he did with Anakin's eyes, those beautiful blue eyes.

A whimper of pain comes from Anakin and Obi-Wan responds on instinct, brushing a hand over the boy's hair gently. “Shhh, it's alright. I'm here, my dear.”

Anakin's dry lips part for a shaky breath. “Master...”

He's awake.

Obi-Wan's eyes widen when Anakin's hand lifts and Obi-Wan can't help taking it, squeezing tightly, like the guilt and shame coiled around his heart. “Anakin... I– I'm sorry... I took... I took your–”

He can't finish his sentence, the taste still lingers on his tongue, the feverish heat and ecstasy he'd felt still lingers in his body, his shame still stains the dirty floor of the cave. There is no excuse. He'd surely lost his mind for those brief moments. When he came back to his senses, he'd rushed to clean his sticky hands, trying to drown out the horror he'd felt at himself.

Thrown himself into caring for Anakin, as he should have been from the start.

Not doing... that.

“...eyes.” Anakin's word makes him flinch. “Master... why?”

For a moment, he panics, then realises that there's no way Anakin could know what he'd done. The boy was asking why Obi-Wan had removed his eyes to begin with. He wants to laugh at the relief he feels, for this is no less painful a question to answer.

“I'm sorry. But, please understand, Anakin. We can't risk it. If Sidious possesses your body...” Obi-Wan swallows around the lump in his throat, struggling to keep his words steady. “This is the only way I can let you live. I– I don't want to kill you, Padawan mine...”

The last two words slip out without his permission, almost like they'd forced themselves from him and he feels Anakin's hand tighten around his own.

“Master...” Anakin's voice is trembling, and he braces for anger, for his boy to... he's not even sure, he doesn't know how Anakin will respond to this.

Blame and perfidy? Forgiveness and understanding? Will Anakin understand why Obi-Wan had sacrificed his boy's sight, just to ensure that—should Sidious succeed in possessing Anakin—the Sith would also be crippled. Forced to learn how to move with only the Force, something that could provide Obi-Wan time to kill him.

Or would he see it as yet another betrayal?

Then the boy's hands are pulling at him, reaching for his neck and Obi-Wan wonders if he's about to be strangled. Only for them to pull him into an embrace. Anakin's voice is choked with sobs as he whispers by his ear. “Obi-Wan– Master... yours, still– I'm still– always...”

Yours.

Obi-Wan jolts at his words. No no no, you can't say that, don't do this. You don't know what you're offering me. What I want to take.

His own arms come up without Obi-Wan's permission, his body betraying him and pulling Anakin even closer, holding the boy against himself. Clutching at Anakin desperately, wanting to keep him here, always. Like he has a claim to this boy. Like Anakin is his, in all the ways he shouldn't be. All the ways he shouldn't want him to be.

“Anakin...” It's all Obi-Wan can say, all he can think. As he struggles to force them away, all the things he wants to do, wants to say.

He almost regrets stripping Anakin down to his inner layer, even though he knows he had to remove the dirty, torn, and burnt outer garments, lest his wounds fester. Obi-Wan can feel his boy's body under his palms, the warm muscles along his back. The thin cloths separating their chests do nothing to guard Obi-Wan from the heat of Anakin's body.

He should stop. He has to let go.

It physically hurts, to pry his hands from Anakin's shoulders, but he forces himself to. He can't succumb to this. He doesn't know if he can stop. There aren't enough reasons to. There are too many reasons to. There is something new inside him. Something twisted and wrong. Something he doesn't know how to handle.

So, he holds the boy at a distance, like Obi-Wan has since he first realised how much he wanted Anakin. How he wanted Anakin.

“You're still recovering. Rest.” Obi-Wan says instead. Instead of everything else he wants to say. “I'll get you some water.”

Anakin goes without resistance, leans back against the cave's rock that the bed is placed up against, and Obi-Wan pulls his coat back up to keep the boy warm. Heart aching when he sees the wetness on the bandage over Anakin's eyes. He goes to get a can of water. They're running low already. He'll need to get the second vaporator operational quickly to support the two of them.

“Here, drink slowly.” He returns to the bedside and sits again, opens the lid of the can and brings it to Anakin's lips, letting the boy sip from it.

“What did... what did you do with them?” Anakin asks when he's had enough to drink. “They'll rot soon.”

Obi-Wan almost drops the can, feels his mouth water at the very mention. He tells himself it's from disgust. His hands tremble as he closes the lid on the can.

“I... disposed of them already.” Obi-Wan answers after a moment, trying not to think of how he'd done so. “They... they reverted to blue after I... took them out.”

Anakin's lips press into a flat line. “Because it's in my head. He's in my mind, Sidious.”

“...Yes...” Obi-Wan grimaces, he doesn't say that he's relieved not to have to see that disgusting yellow on his face regardless. Even if the corruption remains. Even if the only thing he removed was the visible sign of it.

All he can think about is the proof that—beneath the Sith and darkness—his boy is still in there, still pure and blue. All he can feel is the itch to tear that corruption out of Anakin, to reclaim what was once both his student and his brother, a man he thought of as reckless but noble and good.

“That's why you didn't warn me too.” Anakin adds, a slightly hopeful question in his statement.

Obi-Wan goes to reassure him quickly. “Correct. I couldn't risk warning Sidious and giving him the opportunity to try to take control while I... disarmed you.”

He sees Anakin's shoulders relax and the boy gives him a tiny nod. He believes him. Trusts his words. Trusts that Obi-Wan is being fully transparent. He doesn't want to question why that makes him feel dirty.

“It worked...” Anakin's smile is tinged with bitterness. “He stopped trying to take over my body. He feels... tired.”

Obi-Wan sighs in relief, he had been sure that was the case, since he hadn't felt any darkness from Anakin after he woke. But it was good to hear a confirmation that his attempt to weaken Sidious—at the cost of hurting Anakin too—had not been in vain. That he hadn't permanently crippled and weakened his boy yet failed to discourage Sidious from viewing Anakin as a suitable vessel.

“What will we do when I recover, Master?” Anakin's voice is uncertain, he sounds like a Padawan again. Looking to Obi-Wan for guidance and protection. It makes something inside him unfurl like a purring loth-cat. Something that misses Anakin as he had once been, when he was a child, young, soft, and reliant. His again.

Obi-Wan has to bite his lip to control his reaction. It's disturbing, feeling his heart thump, and a sensation almost like arousal floods his veins. He wants to recoil from his own body. What is happening to him? Obi-Wan had removed Anakin's yellow eyes to reduce his own susceptibility to the Dark Side. To deprive Sidious of a path into his own body, through the anger he couldn’t suppress.

Only for something new to be born inside him.

He takes some comfort in the fact that this new thing is not Dark. But neither is attachment, in and of itself. It's what attachment brings with it that is Dark.

“We–” He clears his throat and swallows. “We'll handle it then. Eyes can deceive you, especially with Sidious in your mind. From now on, you'll need to learn to rely on the Force to find your way. Perhaps when you recover enough to see with the Force you'll also be strong enough to survive removing the Sith.”

Hopefully, if they remove Sidious when Anakin has recovered, and the Sith has nobody to travel into, he'll simply die. Maybe if the Empire collapses after Sidious’ death, Bail Organa might seek Obi-Wan out to make contact. Though that might bring its own problems with it. Either way, he knows too little right now, all he can do is trust in the Force and care for Anakin.

With any luck, being forced to rely on the Force to see will even help Anakin to find balance and peace. Perhaps he will learn to be one with the Force in ways he hadn't while he was powerful and used the Force as a tool, rather than a guide.

“Obi-Wan... thank you.” Anakin's hand twitches as though to reach out for him again, only to take the coat and pull it tighter around himself.

Obi-Wan tells himself he's not disappointed. There is some relief that Anakin cannot see his face, that he doesn't need to hide the tightening of his jaw. This behaviour from Anakin is a good sign. His outburst earlier was more out of character, it must have been because of realising how much he relies on Obi-Wan now, like he had as a child, so he'd reverted to that for a moment. He's calmer now, that's... good.

Yours.

Obi-Wan takes a deep breath, clenches his fists tightly. Anakin is not his. Not his child, his Padawan or... anything else. He's a man now, his own person, and Obi-Wan has to help him recover and find his path in the light again.

“Tell me, Anakin, what happened?” Obi-Wan asks, he needs to know more, to understand how Anakin came back from Darth Vader.

“...I was sent to bleed a Kyber Crystal for my new lightsaber.” Anakin answers after a moment. “It healed my memory and showed me a vision.”

“Healed your memory?” Obi-Wan frowns.

“I thought... I thought you tried to kill me.” Anakin murmurs, bringing a hand to his neck, brushing against the burn scar on it, and Obi-Wan flinches at his own memories.

“Tried—being the key word. But I might as well have.” Obi-Wan shakes his head. “I left you there to die.”

“You...” Anakin bites his lip, but seems to decide it's not worth arguing over. “The vision I saw, that the Kyber Crystal showed me... was that you would forgive me if I killed Sidious and came to you.”

Obi-Wan's eyes widen, was that it? Was that all it took? The promise of forgiveness? He'd been so sure... his boy's eyes had been so angry, Anakin had strangled his wife, said if he wasn't with him then Obi-Wan was his enemy. It wasn't Anakin, Master Yoda had said so. Anakin was gone, consumed by Vader. His words... his presence in the Force, so steeped in Darkness that Anakin became virtually unrecognisable to him.

Obi-Wan had been so sure.

He... he hadn't even offered it. Hadn't offered forgiveness. Hadn't offered Anakin the chance to come back. Why would Anakin take his offer, when he didn't even take his wife's? The mother of his child and the woman he loved. He'd strangled her. What point would there be in Obi-Wan making the same offer? Just to have his boy reject it too.

It would... it would have broken Obi-Wan's heart beyond repair.

“Master...” Anakin's voice is choked and Obi-Wan sees the surface of the bandage darken further, until pink trails begin to slide down his cheeks. “Would... would you have? Forgiven me? Back then...”

Had it always been that simple? That didn't make sense. Anakin had talked about bringing peace, freedom, justice and security to his new Empire. What value did an offer of forgiveness have for a megalomaniac? And yet, here he is, his boy, brought here by the mere promise of forgiveness. Killed the Sith Lord after he was given all the power Obi-Wan thought Anakin craved.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin is starting to curl in on himself, clutching at the coat so tightly it feels like he might tear it, his shoulders shaking.

“That's... that's all it took?” Obi-Wan mutters faintly, in disbelief. “I don't– I thought you knew... Anakin, I would always forgive you. For anything. You were my brother, I loved you.”

The boy is still for a moment. Not even breathing. Then he takes a great shuddering breath, clutches at his chest like he's in pain, jolts in place. Once, twice, great heaving sobs, and reaches a hand out towards him.

“Master...” Anakin keens, pink tears streaming down his cheeks, blood and tears trickling down in swirls, and Obi-Wan can no longer hold himself back.

He takes Anakin's hand and allows the boy to pull him close. Embraces him, holds his boy tightly against his chest. Anakin's body is racked with sobs and Obi-Wan is not faring much better. His own tears seep into the cloth at Anakin's nape, he runs his fingers through those long dark brown curls, takes a deep shuddering breath of his familiar scent.

He's missed Anakin so much.

“Stay... please.” Anakin's whisper makes his heart ache.

“I will.” Obi-Wan promises and swallows.

He rearranges them so that Anakin is lying against his side in this sad excuse of a bed made for one. Guides Anakin's head to rest on his chest so it can remain elevated, letting the boy lie half on top of him. Anakin curls up on him, left hand fisting in his shirt, and continues to weep pink streaks from his bandage, while Obi-Wan rubs a hand across his back soothingly and closes his eyes.

He has so many questions. Obi-Wan doesn't understand how this could be. How he could have been so wrong. But for once, he will save that for later. Right now, he needs this moment, needs to hold Anakin.

Everything else can wait.

Notes:

I love repurposing canon lines =D

Media often depicts forgiveness as something to be earned, given after a redeeming act. Yoda and Obi-Wan say Anakin was consumed, regarded as dead. It is Luke's insistence in believing in his father's goodness that ultimately allows Anakin to come back and be redeemed.

I posit that forgiveness shouldn't be just regarded as a reward for redemption, but also as a means of encouraging redemption. Despair, particularly the kind that Darth Vader was born from is one of loneliness, the thought that if he falls, nobody will catch him. Everything he'd ever done was to ensure that there would always be someone there to catch him. Only for those very actions to drive them away.

And to be clear, there's a difference between forgiveness and permissiveness. Obi-Wan was not wrong to slap Anakin back in line every time he fucked up, but Obi-Wan's failure was in communicating to Anakin that he would always forgive transgressions and they wouldn't change/damage his love for Anakin.

Which, honestly, couldn't really be helped. Obi-Wan is a Jedi, raised in the temple, educated, safe and insulated from suffering till his teenage years and then was only exposed to devastating loss in his adulthood. Unlike Anakin whose formative years were wrought with suffering, loss and lack of agency and autonomy.

Obi-Wan's methods—the methods he was taught—just don't work on Anakin's trauma brain. His expressions of stoic distant and disciplined love don't feel like love to Anakin. Completely incompatible love language. Coupled with Sidious poisoning Anakin against the Jedi and warping his already inaccurate interpretation of their feelings towards him, and you get a love-starved kid that feels isolated in a crowd.

Like a kitten starving because the only food provided by its owner is grass. Is it so strange then, that Anakin would Fall?

As I said last chapter, Anakin is looking for someone to tell him he can stop being anxious, stop trying so hard.

He particularly wants it from Obi-Wan, wants Obi-Wan to tell him “you've done enough”. Because Obi-Wan represents everything he wishes he was, someone who is powerful not because of natural innate talents, but because of his discipline and hard work. Anakin thinks if Obi-Wan had his high midichlorian count and pure natural talent, Obi-Wan would be perfect. The problem is that he's wrong.

Obi-Wan wouldn't be perfect with Anakin's capabilities. It's because Obi-Wan is not him, that's why he can be the way he is.

Anakin's traits and Obi-Wan's traits are very extreme, and at this level of extremity, they become mutually exclusive, and outright contradictive. These polar ends cannot exist together in the same person. There is no perfect person with both passion and control. Perhaps if Anakin hadn't been longing for the impossible, he wouldn't have felt so inferior.

But in the eyes of someone who has seen the impossible become possible, how is he to tell where that line is drawn? It's a difficult situation and I don't think Anakin should be expected to come to the correct conclusions or interpretations on his own.

It's not enough to simply impart good lessons and advice to young people, because interpretation of words differs based on maturity, experience and age. It is more important to understand how the kid has interpreted your words and continuously seek new ways of ensuring that they got them correctly.

Naturally, this is hard as balls and I'm not sugar-coating how easy it is to fail at this. However, it is the sad reality that—no matter how unfair it feels—the ones with greater stability and maturity will always have to carry more weight than those unable to do so themselves.

The only other option is to “get rid of them” but as Anakin so succinctly demonstrates, all you need is one. One. One person with enough power but not enough stability, to destroy more than it would have cost to provide him some goddamn mental healthcare. And it's easy to say warning signs are obvious, until your own friend or family member is the Anakin you didn't see coming.

As tiring and difficult as it may seem, it is more advantageous to society and each individual person, for the strong to support the weak. It does more to benefit every individual, when those struggling receive support and lead better lives. Simply suppressing or stamping out potential Anakins is both inefficient and ineffective, and hurts everybody around the Anakin too.

Also, while Obi-Wan should have offered forgiveness, Anakin was only ready to accept his mistakes after Padme died and realised he was left with nothing, a leashed dog tied to a man he hates. But even if Anakin hadn't taken Obi-Wan's offer of forgiveness immediately, it would have given him hope for change.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this nice comfort chapter, because next chapter is gonna be rough. This is tagged hurt/comfort for a reason xP

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[thecarelessvoice]

Fellas i get the familiar trope of hot daddy (baek kang hyuk) and pretty twink (yang jae won) ship you guys are smitten with in trauma code: heroes on call, but how COME NOT A SINGLE PERSON SHIPS THEM AFTER WATCHING EPISODE 8???

Literally exes??? Friends with benefits??? Idek but my mind is way too occupied on walter and malak.... I'm telling you they definitely fu*ked when he was still in black wings ^^

Like???!!!! The tension??!!!

Pls i haven't found a single fic of them and it makes me lose my mind TT

[avatar-legends-confessionblog]

https://www.tumblr.com/atla-confessions/765166451870089216/kataang-metas-are-like-if-people-wrote?source=share

Well, if kataang is "unseasoned chicken breasts", zutara is too. Just the same. Both pro and contra.

Kataang is boring because "hero gets the girl"? Zutarians just want another guy to be the "hero", who will save damsel in distress Katara (she may be powerful badass in their fics/metas, but still in need to be saved by Zuko). Check.

Zutara shares the same trauma? Katara and Aang are both genocide survivors, the last benders in their tribe/nation. Check.

Aang is flawed? Zuko is flawed too, with his outburst during the beach party in the finale and don't even make me start about the comic books. Check.

"Power couple"? Both. Check.

Firelady? Ambassador – I don't remember how actually they called Katara in LoK, but "the Firelady" in the fics does almost nothing despite all the "empowerment". Check.

Three kids with Aang? Multiple kids with Zuko (sometimes with the same names, yes, not only "Kya", I've seen "Bumi" too). Check.

Did hurt Katara with fire? Both. Check.

Sibling coded? Katara mocks Zuko just like she mocks her brother, so – siblings dynamic. Check.

Katara doing all the emotional labor? She supported Zuko in the theater, before a talk with Iroh, invited him in the group hugs, accepted his decision to fight Azula alone – Zuko only helped her in "The Southern Raiders" (and only in the process started doing it for Katara and not for himself) and poured tea twice. Katara did more, check.

Katara has to give up her culture? Ton of zk fanarts where she is wearing only or mostly red and tons of fics where she does not practice anything from Water Tribe culture and does not think about her tribe and family at all. Check.

So for me zutara is "unseasoned chicken breasts" as well. The same price even. Just on another shelf. Burying it under a mountain of hot pepper does not make it better, it makes it unedible and also can't hide that this chicken breast is expired. Long ago.

Actually, I prefer neither.

X

[iamashippinggod]

"Welcome to the class, neighbor."

Part two of my mini-fic series is here! @julybreakbingo Bingo Prompt: Boy Next Door Fandom: My Hero Academia Ships: Kaminari Denki/Shinsou Hitoshi, Jirou Kyouka/Kaminari Denki, Aizawa Shouta/Yamada Hizashi Content Warning: Brief mention of Hitoshi in foster care, but doesn't explain anything explicit, it just implies that he has trauma from then though. Explicit Language. Tags: New Kid, Adopted Shinsou Hitoshi, Adopted Eri, Married Aizawa Shouta/Yamada Hizashi, Past/Reference to Child Abuse, Class 1-A, Established Relationships, Shinsou Hitoshi replaces Mineta Minoru, Welcoming Class 1-A, Shinsou Hitoshi has Social Anxiety, Kaminari Denki has ADHD, Pansexual Kaminari Denki, Bisexual Jirou Kyouka, Gay Shinsou Hitoshi. Side Note: So, I lied about Kaminari being flirty, I clearly don't know how to write him being flirty. BUT... Well, I'm not gonna spoil it. This is cross-platformed on AO3, I hope you all enjoy

Masterlist

Summary:  “After some complaints about his behavior toward the other students,” Shouta gives a sharp eye toward the girls, “He’s being reprimanded for going against the school code of conduct, and therefore his punishment is expulsion.” Both him and Hitoshi don’t miss how the girls seem to relax after hearing that. “Either way, Mineta has been removed as a student and will no longer be attending UA. Hitoshi will be taking his place from now on. Now,” Hitoshi and the rest of the class deadpan at the sight of Shouta zipping himself up in his yellow sleeping bag. “Everyone introduce yourselves, and get to know each other.” Socialize. While he goes lay down behind the podium, Hitoshi looks back at the class, noting everyone’s eyes are on him now. Jee, thanks, you old bastard. “Uh,” He raises a hand to rub the back of his neck, “So… Nice to meet you all?” In seconds, he was surrounded.

Ah yes. The early morning. That special time of day where Hitoshi loves nothing more than to tell the world “fuck off and fuck that.”

            With a groan, the teen slaps his hand against the sheets, feeling around for his phone to shut off that horrendous noise that he called an alarm. It definitely does the job of waking him up in the morning. But then again, so does coffee. But no, Dad and Pops said that it was bad for his health to consume so much at his age, and yet, he literally watched Dad down an entire pot a few days ago. Hypocrite.

            If Hitoshi listens hard enough, he can make out the sound of his Pops in the kitchen, his phone hooked up to the speaker so he could play his music a bit louder. Underneath the music, he can hear him humming along to the beat. It’s the same routine he’s been getting used to since he came to live with them.

            He bites back the sigh, the thought of the foster homes still makes him queasy, and he does his best to bury the memories deep in the back of his mind to avoid everything that could come with them. Even though his parents knew that his time back then wasn’t exactly great, they didn’t know the extent of it aside from what was on the paperwork. Hitoshi plans to keep it that way. 

            The soft footsteps outside his door indicated that Eri was awake now, and that was his cue to get up. The last time he slept in longer than her, she had been sent in to wake him up. And in her mind, the best way to do that was to jump on him, which resulted in his ribs being sore during breakfast. Not that he minded though, if ruffling her hair afterwards said anything.

            The teen sat up, the muscles in his back stretching at the sudden movement when he heard a knock. “I’m awake.” He tries to say, but it comes out in a loud mumble at best.

            “Mister Shouta says you're going to be late for your first day.” He hears Eri say, which makes him sigh. Still not calling them Dad and Pops yet, huh? At least it’s better than “Mister Aizawa.”

            “Alright, I’ll be out in a minute.”

            He hears her leave. 

            Minutes later, and he was walking out of his room still in his pajamas, rubbing his eyes in hopes of rubbing away the sleepiness. He follows the sound of chatter, music, and the smell of sweet maple syrup to the kitchen. Rounding the corner, he can see Eri sitting in her seat while Hizashi places a plate of pancakes in front of her.

            “Morning, little listener.” 

            Hitoshi replies with a grumble, immediately making his way toward the coffee machine. Only, a hand landed on his shoulder and he was turned back toward the table to sit. “Nope.” 

            “Seriously?” Hitoshi looks over his shoulder as he sits down reluctantly, seeing Shouta walk over to the coffee machine to make himself another cup (he knows damn well that man already had two). “How am I supposed to funfiction without my life elixir?”

            Shouta has the audacity to shrug, leaning back against the counter as he raises his mug to his face. “Will power and determination.”

            “Who do I look like? Midoriya?”

            Hizashi chuckles. “Speaking of your soon-to-be classmates…” 

            Hitoshi groans again, turning away from his parents when a plate of pancakes gets placed in front of him. “Thank you.”

            “Are you excited for today?”

            Shouta scoffs. “He shouldn’t be.” He says, making Hizashi look at him with a raised brow. Shouta shrugs, “The deal was no special privileges. He’ll be getting the same treatment I give to the other hellions.”

            “And that’s fair, however,” Hizashi walks toward Shouta until he’s standing right in front of him, “That treatment doesn’t start until you’re both in school.” 

            Hitoshi doesn’t have to turn around to know Hizashi had kissed him. “PDA, there’s a child present.” Eri giggles at his words. 

            Behind him, Shouta was hiding his smile behind his mug while Hizashi went back to cooking. He looks up at the clock before looking at Hitoshi, “Eat up, we’ll be leaving in an hour.” Hitoshi gave him a thumbs up as a response, his mouth currently full of pancakes.

Okay. In hindsight, Hitoshi knows that moving into the dorms isn’t that big of a deal. Really, he does. And he also knows that the whole point of this “no special privileges” rule he and his Dad have decided on meant no special living arrangements that would separate him from his soon-to-be classmates.

            But…

           “Remind me why I can’t just stay with you and Pops like I have been?”

           Shouta sighs, the teen looking up at him as they walk. “We said no special privileges, that means no special living arrangements. You’ll be living with your classmates just like you were when you were in General Studies.”

            “You make a valid point, however,” Shouta sighs again, “After you guys moved onto campus and adopted Eri, I was still staying with you full time. Hell, I barely even stayed in dorms with the rest of Class 1-C.”

            “Yes. However…” Shouta mimics, stopping and turning to look at him. “Being a hero means having to be in the company of others that you may not get along with or just don’t want to be around. Think of this as training.”

            “Training for what? Midoriya breaking his bones in the field? Bakugou shouting “die, die, die” like he’s that one BattleShip audio yelling “dive, dive, dive?”

            “Socializing.”

            The word made him cringe. “I’d rather suffer through one of Eri’s tea parties.”

            Though he hasn’t said anything, and may never will, Hitoshi was a nervous wreck.

            It was no secret amongst his family that he has social anxiety, but given his past and how he was mistreated growing up, it made sense. Though, since he was adopted, Shouta and Hizashi have been trying to help him work on it, even offering to set him up with a counselor. Of course, Hitoshi always denied the counselor route. He meant it when he said he does everything he can to avoid bringing up past memories, and he plans to keep it that way.

            But still, he does find it a bit annoying how the anxious feeling was stirring in his stomach as they continued their walk. It was like he was joining a brand new school in the middle of a semester even though he knew that wasn’t true, that everything but the course was the same. And in hindsight, he knows these people. Well, of these people. 

            He was the new kid in this scenario, and it was annoying.

            Of course, he wasn’t going to admit to feeling this way. That just wasn’t his way of doing things. That’s not going to change anytime soon. 

           “Hey,” Shouta places a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be fine. And it’s not like you’re moving out permanently. Think of this as a second home. Besides, we’ll still be living together, just with a few extra people.” Okay, he gets that.

            It still wasn’t what he wanted to hear though.

Hitoshi figured that some of Class 1-A would be shocked to see him standing in the middle of the living area with their teacher by his side. He knows that they’re aware of his relationship with Shouta, but knowing his Dad, he hasn’t told them that a new student would be joining them.

           Or that one of them would be leaving their class.

           A part of his anxiety stemmed from this fact. Knowing that one of these people will probably hate him for taking their place. The other, well, he just didn’t want them seeing him as a villain like the others did.

          Okay, yeah. It’s been a year since he was around people who thought that of him, and he is more than grateful to be away from all of that. But after spending so long in that kind of environment, it’s embedded in his very core. 

          It’s annoying. 

         But not nearly as annoying as having all of Class 1-A’s eyes on him, staring at him with such a look of shock, he would think they witnessed him committing a crime. 

         “Starting today, we’ll have a new student joining the Hero Course. I’m sure most of you remember him from the Sports Festival.” Shouta looks toward the purple-haired boy. “Hitoshi Aizawa.”

           Biting down a gulp, Hitoshi raised his hand and waved. “Er, hi?”

           “Mindfuck?” Bakugou shouts. 

            “Bakugou, language!” 

            “Oh shut up, you walking autobot.”

"You walking- what?"

Midoriya looks toward the guy with glasses, looking surprised, "Iida, have you never seen Transformers?"

When glasses shook his head, Midoriya looked at him, mouth a gap and a gasp could be heard from the pink-haired girl across the room. "Iida! That is a cardinal sin," She said, shaking her head, "We're having a movie night."

            “Is no one going to mention the fact that he just said Hitoshi Aizawa?” Said the spiky redhead, provoking more yelling. God damn it.

             “Of course he’s an Aizawa, Shitty hair! He was at their wedding.”

            Though he could see the shocked look on his face, Midoriya still raises his hand and waves at him shyly, a small smile on his face. To his left, he sees another blond raise his hand. “Um, sir? If he’s joining our class, doesn’t that mean one of us is being transferred out?” 

            The question makes him tense. “Wow, Kaminari actually asked a reasonable question.” The purple-haired girl said, whom the blond rolled his eyes at.

            They all look toward the teacher, who sighs. “You’re correct. One of you has already been transferred out of the Hero Course.” He said. They all stare at him with anticipation. “Mineta will no longer be joining us, in fact, he’s being removed from the school as we speak.” 

            This was news to Hitoshi. He knew about the transfer, not being removed from the school.

            “Sir?” The girl with the black-spikey ponytail raised her hand. “It makes sense to transfer one of us out for a new student, but why not have Mineta take Aizawa- Er, Hitoshi’s place in General Studies?” 

            After the eternal cringe he makes, he speaks up. “Uh, call me Hitoshi, please.” He bites back the urge to bite down on the inside of his cheeks. “‘S kind of weird to be called by the old man’s name, you know?”

            “Oh thank god,” The blond (what was his name again?) from earlier breaths out, “That would be very confusing if we had to call you both by your last names.” 

            “After some complaints about his behavior toward the other students,” Shouta gives a sharp eye toward the girls, “He’s being reprimanded for going against the school code of conduct, and therefore his punishment is expulsion.” Both him and Hitoshi don’t miss how the girls seem to relax after hearing that. “Either way, Mineta has been removed as a student and will no longer be attending UA. Hitoshi will be taking his place from now on. Now,” Hitoshi and the rest of the class deadpan at the sight of Shouta zipping himself up in his yellow sleeping bag. “Everyone introduce yourselves, and get to know each other.” Socialize.

            While he goes lay down behind the podium, Hitoshi looks back at the class, noting everyone’s eyes are on him now. Jee, thanks, you old bastard. 

            “Uh,” He raises a hand to rub the back of his neck, “So… Nice to meet you all?”

            In seconds, he was surrounded. 

            “Hi! My name is Mina Ashido.” Said the pink-haired girl, literally inches from his face. “It’s nice to meet you.”

            “The name’s Sero Hanta.”

            “Ochako Uraraka!” He recognized Uraraka from the Sports Festival, Sero vaguely for the same reason. 

            One by one, everyone introduced themselves. Of course, Todoroki, Midoriya, and Bakugou didn’t need to introduce themselves, the three of them are difficult to forget once you meet them. This is literally the first day of school all over again. He bites back a sigh.

            Eventually, it comes down to the blond that had asked about the transfer earlier. “Hey, welcome to the class.” He said, “My name’s Denki Kaminari, and this,” He gestures to the purple-haired girl next to him, “Is my girlfriend.”

            The girl sighs, “Kyouka Jirou.”

            “It’s nice to meet you all.” You already said that.

            “Uh…” Nearly everyone turns their head toward Hagakure, “D-Does anyone else feel sort of bad that Mineta was expelled?”

            Before anyone could answer, there was a loud laugh from behind her, everyone turned to see Bakugou with a smirk on his face. “Like I would feel bad for turning in that perverted pipsqueak. That little shit had it coming.”

            This takes them all by surprise, “What? Kaachan, you reported Mineta?” Kaminari asked. 

            “I told you not to call me that!” Cue the sparking hands and angry stare from Bakugou as Kaminari sweat drops. Upon dropping this angry display, Bakugou adds. “And so what if I did? That little shit wasn’t cut out for hero work, all he cared about was groping Froggy over here or drooling over Pink Cheeks’ behind.”

            Cue a moment of silence before Mina squeals lightly. “Aww, Blasty. You do care!”

            “Shut the hell up, you racoon wannabe!”

Classes, lunch, more classes. The day passes by in a blur. The most he can remember is how many of them tried to carry a conversation with him, and how much he wanted to crawl into a dark corner just to get away from everyone.

            Socialize, they said, it won’t kill you, they said. Hitoshi couldn’t help but to think bitterly. Sighing as they walked into the dorms. Why do I feel so dead then? 

            Hitoshi’s feet seemed to drag as he walked behind his classmates. One thing he was glad about is that he didn’t have to share a room with anyone, so he could recharge his social battery much easier without anyone else in the room.

            Still, walking into the building felt strange.

            It wasn’t much different from Class 1-C’s dorms, the main living area looked the same for the most part. 

            The redhead, Kirishima, drops his bag from his shoulders and lets it drag behind him as they continue walking. “Finally, no more classes today.”

            Bakugou scoffs, “Don’t get too comfortable, Shitty Hair. Study group at mine in fifteen.” This provokes a groan out of a handful of their classmates, those being Kirishima, Sero, Mina, Jirou, and Kaminari. “And don’t be late again, Pikachu.” He gives Kaminari a pointed glare before heading to the kitchen.

            Hitoshi blocks out the rest of that conversation as he makes his way to the elevator, oblivious to the loud blond walking behind him until the doors close behind them. Please don't talk to me, please don't talk to me. Hitoshi eyed the blond before forcing his eyes to look at the elevator doors.

           “So…” He drags out, Hitoshi raises a brow at him, “What did you think?”             “Of?” 

            “Your new classmates, obviously.” 

            Hitoshi rolled his eyes,  “Uh, they were fine, I guess.”

           Kaminari hums, but he doesn’t say anything else right away. It’s not until the doors open again and they were walking onto their floor that he started talking again (much to Hitoshi’s dislike).

          “So, do you want to join our study group?” Kaminari asked, “Kaachan can be a bit of a hard ass but without him and Yaoyorozu, I probably would have been kicked out of the Hero Course for bad grades alone.” 

            Hitoshi’s eyes scanned each door they passed, noting everyone had their names on their door. “No, I’m good.” He stops, relieved to finally have found his name on one of the doors. 

            Kaminari stops as well, looking at the door before a grin crawls onto his face. “Hey, we’re neighbors!” Hitoshi looks at him before noticing the door behind the blond, biting back a sigh when he sees his name on the door opposite of his. Kaminari notes his silence and his grin dips a little. “You don’t talk much, do you?”

           “I have no reason to.”

            “What? Don’t you talk to your friends?”

            Hitoshi scoffs, turning the door handle to open his door, “I’m not here to make friends.” And that was the truth.

            Friendship was the furthest thing from his mind. He was here for one reason and one reason only, and that is to prove to everyone in his past that they were wrong about him, that they wrote him off too quickly. He was going to prove that not everyone with a Quirk like his becomes Villains.

            He was going to prove them all wrong.

            But those words were something not everyone would understand, much less his classmates.

            As he was about to close his door, he noticed Kaminari staring at him, a slight frown on his lips as he looked at him with narrowed eyes. Hitoshi wonders what he was thinking. But before he could open his mouth to call him out for staring, Kaminari’s frown turned into a soft smile, and Hitoshi could have sworn he saw a glimmer in his eyes.

            “We’ll see.” The blond reaches behind him to open his door, "Welcome to the class, neighbor." With that, Kaminari disappears into his room with the door shutting behind him. 

            The hell is that supposed to mean? Hitoshi found himself staring at the closed door for a brief second. Ultimately, he shrugs it off and closes his door, setting down his bag before promptly marching over to his new bed for a nap.

[cure-icy-writes]

Five things you may find in my fics

Tagged by @ofstormsandfire!

Autism. It’s been there from the start, honestly, long before I realized it. It’s usually not tagged unless it’s the focus, but the autistic coding just sort of…seeps in. Girls who struggle to adequately perform femininity because gender is a social construct that they’re too autistic to understand, boys who get called creepy for having intense interests and weird stares, latching onto the explicitly autistic characters and thinking “wow I wonder why I’m so attached to them, surely it isn’t for any reason!” In recent years it’s gotten more explicit, probably because I’m more aware of it.

Trauma. Make of it what you will, but trauma and it’s impacts are a recurring theme in my works, often in conjunction with imposter syndrome and autistic adults learning to unmask and confront the fact that their childhoods weren’t that great honestly. Trauma isn’t rational, and it’s not linear, but if you confront it and give yourself kindness, rewire and work around the broken parts, you can find a lot of healing and fulfillment.

Horror. This is a fairly new development, actually, but it’s one I’m really enjoying! I’d say my interest in it was sparked by the magnus archives nearish the beginning of quarantine, and I realized that while I can’t handle visual horror very well, I actually love some well crafted horror! I usually like it to be character focused, written format is best but audio is good. It also makes the psychology interest go brrrrrrrr!

Platonic love. I’m something of a casual shipper, but I also feel like ships are overrated and there’s so so much potential for exploring non-romantic relationship. I love it when unrelated characters have sibling energy, when they’re ride or die, when they’re in a qpr or something more ambiguous that doesn’t fit into the Amanonormative Narrative set by society. Like you guys what if they were found family. What if they were besties. What if a responsible adult came along and said “my kiddo now” and got the adoption papers. What if a girl loved a boy and told him, and he loved her back, and it was platonic all the way through?

Character-centric stories. I consider characterization one of my strongest skills as a writer, up there with dialogue, and it’s so fun to make heroes who hate their job, or villains who are actually just fucked up parents that never got grief counseling and made that everyone’s problem. My newest one that I’m obsessed with is a thirty-something who appears mentally stable, but it’s slowly revealed that they were emotionally neglected as a child and it’s something they’re forced to cope with as the matter becomes more prevalent. They don’t have any big dramatic event in their backstory linking them to the current story, but rather, the themes of family and neglect and communal child-rearing and the meaning of a legacy are what ties the whole thing together.

Anyways! Tagging @dino--draws and @catlliecal if y’all want!

[melodyanqel]

𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐘 ── ✶ b.kh (02. anus, gangster & mandu)

a freshly new face enters the world of the trauma unit who is sweet and pure, yet becomes everyone’s favorite surgeon. even her stern and tough rival has a soft spot. and possibly more than that.

⇢ pairing: baek kang-hyuk x fem!oc

⇢ genre/tags: fluff, angst, drama, suspense, developing relationship, trauma team as a family, humor, friendship, workplace romance, medical field, protective!tsundere!kang-hyuk, sunshine!soft!curvy!oc

⇢ note: i just wanted to say tysm for the luv and support for this story! it puts a smile on my face to know that many of you want more. please enjoy a much longer update!

⇢ warnings: mention of a deceased patient, a bit of insecurity, and spoilers to ep 3

⇢ wc: 2.5k words

⇢ melodyanqel taglist: @study-with-reine234 @rambinru

She feels like she has entered a dangerous territory, not that hospitals are the worst places in the world. For some people, yes, but meeting the only trauma surgeon who seems like a strict, rough-on-the-edge type of man. 

Bo-ra is sitting in Kang-hyuk’s office, which looks a bit plain with the typical white walls, and the wide window that shows the city. However, she can see multiple picture frames behind him. She notices they are all with random people. While taking in the room, Kang-hyuk reads her background in a folder. He is impressed by how Bo-ra studied the medical field when she was a teenager and proceeded to pursue a career. She is the same age as Jae-won, meaning she graduated from college and medical school in her early twenties. Kang-hyuk perceives that Bo-ra is extremely intelligent. 

The question is, how and what she will do for her first operation?

Kang-hyuk lets out a breath after reading the profile. He closes the folder to speak with Bo-ra. His dark gaze stares at her, and he can tell her body language is tense, yet she tries to be composed in her seat. “Mandu.” He calls her by the nickname, and she doesn’t understand why. 

Bo-ra jolts and makes eye contact with Kang-hyuk. “Y-Yes, Dr. Baek.” She stutters, and mentally wants to slap herself. She knew she would do it. 

The man could feel his lips twitch almost to a smirk, but he kept his usual stern expression. He explains, “You are the first person I’ve seen as a certified trauma surgeon. Not many people are in this hospital because no one wanted to fund a center and recruit future doctors. I blame those greedy bastards.” Kang-hyuk cursed under his breath. Bo-ra did hear him, he wasn’t wrong.

“But I appreciate how you are committed to the work.” Kang-hyuk continues, “So, do you think you are ready for what will happen from this day forward?” He raised a brow to give her a skeptical look. 

Bo-ra didn’t hesitate to respond. “Yes, Dr. Baek. I’ll follow your demands and do whatever it takes to save lives.” She is proud of herself for not stuttering this time. 

Kang-hyuk’s lips curve into a smirk. Bo-ra sounds like Jae-won, except they studied different medical majors. He pulls back his chair to stand up. Bo-ra does the same with her hands folded in front. The experienced surgeon announces, “Welcome to the Trauma Unit, mandu. I hope you’ll keep up with everything.” Kang-hyuk accepts the female doctor into his team. Bo-ra’s face beams, her chocolate brown eyes lit up like the sun. She does a respectful bow. “Thank you so much, Dr. Baek. I’ll give it my all.” By the show of appreciation, she feels relieved.

For now. 

Subsequently, the two meet up with Jae-won and Jang-mi. They’re standing outside a patient’s room. Kang-hyuk instantly knew who it was because he had done a liver transplant on them. After getting the news that Jae-won and Jang-mi will be handling post-transplant for the first time, Kang-hyuk covered his mouth with his hand in a dramatic shock. 

He groans and puts his hands up for a second. “What am I gonna do? How am I ever gonna teach this lot to start pulling their own weight?” The older man questions them. Bo-ra looks at Jae-won and Jang-mi, who are trying to figure it out on the spot but look awkward. She does seem concerned because it’s required to know patient care, except it’s more complicated for trauma patients. 

Jang-mi suddenly remembers something. “By the way, Dr. Baek, I tried to tell you earlier.” She spoke, and for some reason, Jae-won comprehended immediately. 

Kang-hyuk asks, “What? Why? Am I in a dark place?”

With Bo-ra, she has no clue what’s happening, but there will be answers. 

⋆. 𐙚 ˚

Jang-mi takes the trio to the desk clerk to show the budget cut emails from the audit. Kang-hyuk scoffs, “Budge cuts, my ass.” He is disappointed, although he should’ve expected the consequences for barging into the facility. 

Jae-won and Bo-ra are standing in the back as Jang-mi talks it through. The colorectal surgeon shifts his attention to his friend. “So, your first day is pretty chill.” He assumes. Bo-ra turns to him with a small smile. “Well, I have to follow Dr. Baek everywhere he goes because he is my trainer.” She states the obvious, but she shouldn’t be too comfortable. Bo-ra adds, “He also welcomed me to the unit. Which means, you and I will be doing our old-school teamwork.”

On the inside, Jae-won is screaming and cheering, but he is smiling merrily on the outside. 

“That’s great. I would love to see what you can do.” He is proud of Bo-ra. 

Before he could speak, a voice shouted in anger. “Dr. Baek!”

There comes Dr. Han Yu-rim. He strides to the desk with his finger pointing at Kang-hyuk. “There you are!” He said with an enraged face. Jae-won panics and tries to hide himself with medical documents. Bo-ra looks at the young doctor, bewildered, as if he had gotten in trouble. 

Dr. Han smirks when he notices Jae-won. “Oh, how are you doing?” He asked him. The scared man peeked through the papers. Kang-hyuk then asks the upset man. “What’s the occasion?” He sounded nonchalant with his hands in his white coat. Dr. Han gestures with his head. “Come with me.” Demanding Kang-hyuk. 

“Where to?” The trauma surgeon asked once more. Dr. Han yells, “You’ll find out when we get there!” He is feeling impatient and wants to drag the man. 

Kang-hyuk turns his head to Bo-ra. He might have to cut her training short. The woman instantly understands his look of uncertainty. She tells him, “It’s fine, Dr. Baek. I’ll wait until you’re finished.” She allows him to follow whatever Dr. Han is leading him to. Kang-hyuk sighs and has his gaze back on the grumpy man. “I’d like to know before I go.” He would much rather know the place where Dr. Han is taking him and not carelessly go along with it. 

According to the loudmouth doctor, Kang-hyuk has a meeting with Dr. Hong Jae-hoon. 

“You must be having a not-so-busy day here. Trust me, we’re usually not like this.” Jang-mi reminds Bo-ra. The two ladies and Jae-won are grabbing snacks from the vending machine. Bo-ra shakes her head. “No, I understand. If Dr. Baek needs to take care of priorities, then I can wait.” She honestly didn’t mind it because she had a new friend to get to know more of, and Jae-won is giving her bits of advice on what to expect daily. 

He did it to himself to lead the trauma unit every day, which Kang-hyuk names as a “death sentence.” Regardless, Jae-won is improving and acknowledging the extreme work. That’s why he became a protégé. 

Bo-ra thought of something that she had been hearing now and then. She asks the two healthcare professions, “Why does he call you two Anus and Gangster?” Her voice sounded so innocent. Jang-mi snickered and Jae-won blushed, looking at his Crocs. 

Jang-mi answers with honesty, “When I first encountered Dr. Baek, I thought he was a gangster who tried to murder a patient, so I tackled him.” She casually eats her mini chocolate chip cookies. Jae-won remembers that time, and it’ll forever be a core memory. 

Bo-ra is flabbergasted. “What?!” She never thought Jang-mi would be that crazy. 

The trauma department nurse raised her hands. “In my defense! He was dressed all in black, had no ID, and said, “I took care of them.” Which came off as ominous.” She explained herself to Bo-ra, who comprehends the reason to freak out over an unknown person, especially in a hospital.

Bo-ra says, “I would’ve done the same thing, except Dr. Baek looks like he could win in a fight against me.” For someone like her, short and not full of muscles, it’ll be the end of her, literally. She sips on her banana milk and looks at Jae-won. “What about you?” She wonders about his nickname. Bo-ra can hear Jang-mi cracking up. Jae-won frowns at the nurse. 

He sets his doe eyes on his best friend and speaks, “I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out yet.” Jae-won lets out a deep breath before continuing, “After Dr. Baek knew about my occupation as a colorectal surgeon, he started calling me Anus and it got spread. Now, everyone knows about the annoying nickname.” He truly wants to dig a hole and never come back to land. 

It got quiet for a minute, which was strange. 

Jae-won begins to witness a smile twitching on Bo-ra’s face. He glares at her, “Yah! Don’t laugh, it’s rude!” He shouts, but not too aggressively. Then, both Jang-mi and Bo-ra burst out laughing. Poor Jae-won groans in frustration, he feels trapped. 

Soon enough, the two ladies calmed down. Bo-ra wraps her arms around Jae-won with her banana milk still in her hand. “If it makes you feel better, I won’t call you that.” She vows to never address him as the bottom part of the human body. Jae-won rolls his eyes behind his glasses. “I mean, I guess. If you do, I’ll call you mandu then.” His full lips play a snarky smirk. It honestly didn’t negatively affect Bo-ra. 

“I don’t know why he calls me that.” She might have to find out in the long run. Jang-mi smiles, “I think it’s cute, better than our nicknames. Plus, you are cute.” She compliments her new friend. Bo-ra sheepishly looks at Jang-mi and pulls away from Jae-won. “Thank you so much. I don't usually get nice words.” She openly admits to Jang-mi. The nurse felt a bit of an ache in her heart, and Jae-won knew immediately what she meant. 

He does his best to change the mood. “You deserve to be called that! You’re the cutest!” He expresses both sincerely and loudly. Jae-won softly pats Bo-ra’s head. She giggles because he has a strange yet sweet way of showing affection. Jang-mi watches them with fondness in her eyes. They care about each other a lot.

“Anus, Gangster, Mandu!”

Kang-hyuk abruptly interrupts the wholesome moment. He walks down the hallway with his usual stoic face. “Now that the meeting is over, I must check on patient Lee Hye-yeong. Anus and Mandu, come with me. And Gangster, do what you need to do.” Kang-hyuk directs the trio. Jang-mi takes a deep breath. “Alright. I’ll get back to my desk.” She starts to walk away while eating her cookies. 

Jae-won and Bo-ra trailed behind Kang-hyuk to the ICU. 

⋆. 𐙚 ˚

The patient Lee Hye-yeong got into a fatal car accident with her father and brother, due to the heavy rain a couple of nights ago. Unfortunately, Hye-yeong’s father couldn’t make it through the surgery. She and her brother, Lee Gi-yeong, survived because Kang-hyuk did an illegal move to transplant their father’s liver and kidney into them because he was a donor. Even if he were to be conscious, Lee Ji-yeong would’ve given the doctors his consent to save his children. 

After the operations, it was hard for Jae-won to take it all in. But he did remember something. When he first flew on a helicopter to save a patient, Kang-hyuk asked him what he would do if it were a loved one of his. Jae-won knew it would be the right decision to sacrifice himself and have them live. 

Kang-hyuk opens the door for his new trauma surgeons before closing it. Bo-ra sees that the ventilator is hooked to Hye-yeong, who is resting. Despite suffering from an accident, she and her brother are fighters. Kang-hyuk reads about Hye-yeoung’s condition on a tablet—the three stand on the left side of the bed in silence. 

But then Bo-ra wants to know about the woman. “Dr. Baek, can you explain what happened to her?” She politely asked her new boss. He shuts the tablet and looks at Bo-ra. “Hye-yeong and her family got into a car accident. It was fortunate that her brother survived both the crash and surgery. But their father didn’t make it because his condition was too severe. We also found out he is a family organ donor. So, we transplanted his liver and one of his kidneys to his kids.”

“Hye-yeong had an acute renal failure. Do you know what that is?” Kang-hyuk wants to test Bo-ra’s knowledge. She speaks confidently, “It’s when the kidneys can’t filter waste products from the blood, having the ability to decrease the balance of fluids and electrolytes.” Bo-ra explained it perfectly that Jae-won had the urge to clap his hands. Kang-hyuk, on the other hand, has a pleasant grin. 

“That is correct,” Kang-hyuk affirmed. Bo-ra wants to cheer for herself because she has studied for years to learn about the human body. Kang-hyuk informs his two peers, “She should recover very soon. Her leg is no longer swelling because we removed the excess water and waste.” He disclosed on a good note. 

As they leave the room, Kang-hyuk tells Jae-won, “Anus, go wait at the desk clerk. I need to speak with Mandu.” He receives a “Yes, sir” from the younger man and leaves the two alone. Bo-ra looks up at Kang-hyuk, whose dark eyes are staring at her. “Let’s go somewhere private.” He said. She nods her head as a non-verbal response. 

Kang-hyuk takes Bo-ra to an empty area with glass windows, showing the full moon in the dark sky. She honestly didn’t expect it to be nighttime. They take a seat on the beige chairs to rest their legs. Kang-hyuk expounds as he looks at the magnificent night view. “My apologies for not being there for the whole day. I have stupid people trying to stop me from doing what I must do.” He doesn't mention their names. But he is upset by Dr. Han and Director Hong. They’re too focused on being money hungry rather than enhancing the hospital. 

It's a harsh reality for the Korean healthcare system.

Bo-ra understands Kang-hyuk. “Like I said earlier, I can wait.” She isn’t mad or disappointed. She then hears the experienced doctor speak with his deep voice, telling her the importance of being a doctor. “Well, once you officially start, just remember this. Twenty-four hours a day, 365 days a year. If we stopped, even for a moment, someone’s heart would stop. So we have to keep running to keep our patients’ hearts beating. We must keep running.” The man sets out a reminder to the female doctor. 

She pulls her eyes away from the view to see his side profile. Bo-ra can’t believe she is thinking like this, but Kang-hyuk is one of the most handsome men she has ever seen. The gods crafted his face into a flawless human being. Kang-hyuk senses her lovely brown orbs on him. He turns his head to meet her gaze. Bo-ra quickly looks away with a shy blush coloring her round cheeks. 

It made her look more beautiful and adorable. He also felt warmth spreading across his chest. 

Bo-ra clears her throat before speaking. “Thank you for reminding me, Dr. Baek. I know what I signed up for, and I’ll put my energy to use. I also trained myself to stay in shape.” She laughs lightly, humoring her imperfections. 

Kang-hyuk, however, thinks the opposite. “Yah, Mandu. You’re perfect the way you are. I wouldn’t like it if you changed yourself.” He confesses his underlying emotions for Bo-ra. She becomes speechless. He comes off as blunt, but he is telling the truth. 

“I appreciate you, Dr. Baek.” Her dulcet voice echoes in the air.

“I'm just trying to stay positive for my colleagues." Kang-hyuk said benevolently.

series masterlist

[burningembers91]

Adding to Fic List: The Trauma Code: Heroes on Call

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 26, part two

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff)

Warning! Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Content note: This episode has a lot of lightning, but this post does not have lightning flashes--I’m using mostly stills for those parts, or I’ve snipped out the unfriendly frames before giffing.

Qing-Jie

Having successfully ruined Jin Guangshan’s party plan to get the Yin Tiger seal, Wei Wuxian dashes off to tell Wen Qing where her brother is. She hops up to hit the road with him, but then sorta-faints because she’s starving. In a rare moment of tenderness between these two, he catches her and gently sits her down again. 

Normally they’re busy out-toughing each other, both before and after this moment, but right now Wen Qing is openly vulnerable. Wei Wuxian responds to that, predictably, with all of his kindness and with his usual slew of unwise, impossible-to-keep promises.

As she eats the bread he’s brought her--a parallel to an important piece of bread in his early life--he says they have to believe in Wen Ning’s survival. Cut to: Wen Ning, not surviving. 

I mean, yes, yes, he’s only mostly dead, but he’s never going to be fully alive again, so.  

24 Hour Party People

Back at the party, Jin Guangyao, deliberately, I think, goes to offer his pops a drink while his pops is still super furious and looking for someone to take it out on. The servant lady is like, better you than me, pal, and helps JGY get his drink ready. Pops, predictably, knocks the drink onto Jin Guangyao.

(more behind the cut)

Lan Xichen is standing by with a hanky and a face full of worry. Lan Xichen is so Lanny that he thinks JGY needs to go change clothes after getting clear alcohol spilled on him, rather than just letting it evaporate and smelling pleasantly of booze for the rest of the evening like a normal party guest. 

JGY launches into a criticism of Wei Wuxian, which Lan Wangji listens to very carefully, frowning. Lan Xichen, Nie Huasang and Jiang Cheng listen as well, and don’t speak up. 

A Clear Conscience

Then Lan Wangji *literally* steps out of his brother’s shadow, and speaks in defense of Wei Wuxian. This right here is Lan Wangji’s turning point, as far as I’m concerned. Xichen is gazing at JGY, totally on board with JGY’s spin of the situation, and his shadow falls away from Lan Wangji’s face as LWJ steps forward.

Lan Wangji says, isn’t what WWX said true? JGY puts on his customer service smile and says that the truth isn’t something you’re supposed to go around saying out loud. 

I’d like to say this is what’s wrong with cultivator society but this is really a universal human thing; every society has rules about upsetting the social order, and they are very frequently at odds with basic compassion and morality. 

Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng stay silent but Lan Xichen goes and throws Wei Wuxian under the bus carriage, saying his character has changed. 

Lan Wangji nods decisively at this, and bows to Lan Xichen, silently asking permission to follow Wei Wuxian. Lan Xichen grants permission, telling Lan Wangji to do his best. Lan Xichen probably thinks he and Lan Wangji are in agreement, in this moment, but that nod of Lan Wangji’s was nothing of the kind.

That nod was Lan Wangji agreeing with himself; he is going to try to bring Wei Wuxian back but he is also going to listen to him.  Meanwhile Lan Xichen is tying himself in knots to appease Jin Guangyao. The divergence between the brothers will just grow, from this point onwards.

Lan Wangji leaves to go follow his boyfriend conscience, while Jiang Cheng continues to silently listen to the commentary of others, and gets so mad he crushes a wine cup.

It Was A Dark and Stormy Night.

Wen Qing and Wei Wuxian arrive at the prison camp, and the first person they encounter is Granny, with a defaced Wen Banner in her hand and Wen Yuan on her back. 

Whenever I read a meta or a fic that talks about how the juniors are so sweet partly because they are “untouched by the war” I want to point to this moment. A-Yuan endures an absolute truckload of war trauma by the time he’s four years old, and while Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji both deserve a lot of credit for saving him at great risk to themselves, Granny and Uncle Four are the first heroes of A-Yuan’s story. His kind, mellow personality has a lot in common with theirs. 

This is followed by an eternity of Wen Qing running around asking if anyone’s seen her brother. Eventually Wei Wuxian gets tired of this and gathers the guards together, threatening them with Chenqing. 

He doesn’t need to play it; just holding it up has every Jin dude instantly kneeling and scared. 

The guards send him and Wen Qing go to a giant field of corpses, where Wen Qing runs around checking to see if any of them is her brother. Wei Wuxian starts off kind of detached and angry, but eventually snaps out of it, tucks away his flute and starts helping her to search. 

Wen Qing finds Wen Ning, mostly-dead with a lure flag speared into his belly. Wei Wuxian grimly takes in the situation from across the field of corpses. 

When he arrives at Wen Qing’s side he sees this talisman in Wen Ning’s hand. 

This is the talisman that Wei Wuxian made for Wen Ning back in Gusu summer school, before the war. It’s the one that Wen Ning was wearing at his waist when they met up after the massacre of Lotus Pier. It’s supposed to literally protect Wen Ning from having his spiritual consciousness snatched, as well as being a symbol of Wei Wuxian’s sense of responsibility for, and affection for, Wen Ning. 

Wei Wuxian, understandably, loses his shit at this point. Less understandably, he is about to decide that the best way to express his sorrow and rage is to re-animate the corpse of his friend, right in front of the corpse’s sister. Like, seriously, dude. Dude. 

Ghost General

This super-questionable decision leads to one of the most badass sequences in the show, which is unfortunately chock full of lightning flashes, so not everyone can watch it. Wei Wuxian and his flute and swirls of resentful energy come marching out of the darkness of the corpse field, back to the guards. 

The guards have decided to slaughter all of the prisoners and then run away, which would be a good plan except they should really have skipped right to the running away part of things. When Wei Wuxian accuses them of killing the prisoner in the corpse field, they claim that the Wens have a habit of falling off of a hill and dying. Wei Wuxian can relate. 

At this point Wei Wuxian summons up Wen Ning 2.0, ultra badass edition, who comes flying through the air with his odd, straight-armed fighting stance and cool solid-black eyes and rock-and-roll hair. 

Soundtrack: *Four Sticks*

Wen Ning proceeds to whale on the guards and scare the shit out of his relatives.

Then Wen Qing shows up and begs Wei Wuxian to stop. She explains that Wen Ning is only mostly dead. Like, if he was fully dead would she be okay with this? 

Wei Wuxian tries to reel Wen Ning in and realizes that he is not actually in control of Wen Ning. Ok, see, right from the first day of Wen Ning 2.0, WWX is aware that his control is iffy. Why does he think he’s going to be able to control him later? 

Anyway, this is where we learn Wen Ning’s grown-up name is Wen Qionglin. Wei Wuxian yells this name, and Wen Ning looks up like a cat hearing the “food noise,” and then proceeds to get control of himself. 

This is such a nice symbolic moment, that will be replayed later in the temple, when Wen Ning saves Jin Ling from Baxia. 

Wen Ning has a remote-code-execution OS vulnerability throughout the story; his soul is at risk of being stolen, and he is magically controlled by Wei Wuxian, Xue Yang, Su She, and Baxia.  Meanwhile Wen Qing, Wei Wuxian, and random kids on the street mostly treat him as a child, despite his clear adult capabilities. Wen Ning’s journey in The Untamed is at least partly about asserting his full adulthood, and his ability to overcome magical control is directly connected to that journey.  

After getting Wen Ning to chill, Wei Wuxian calls the floating resentful energy back into his own body, which looks about as comfortable as swallowing a burp. 

On the plus side, apparently resentful energy keeps your hair dry even when it’s raining.

Wei Wuxian should take a page from the guards’ book and slaughter all the Jin witnesses to this situation, but he decides to be the better person and let them live. They go running off down the road, where they encounter Lan Wangji and give him the 411, saying that Wei Wuxian resurrected dead people.

Meanwhile Wei Wuxian collects Wen Qing--half-fainted, again, in an echo of the start of their journey--and collects the Dafan Mountain Wen group, who are hiding, wisely. When they see Wen Ning, Uncle Four and some others start to freak out, but Wei Wuxian tells them that fierce corpses are cool, and they all grab horses and mount up.

Where Are You Going?

Lan Wangji is waiting for them, nonconfrontationally indulging in some visual poetry while he waits. 

In a show where every prop is exquisitely, carefully designed to enhance our understanding character, his Gusu-toned umbrella reveals surprising red and yellow threads woven in, right above his eye line as he looks at Wei Wuxian. 

Wei Wuxian speaks first, saying “you came to stop me?” Lan Wangji doesn’t answer, but asks him where he’s going. Then Lan Wangji warns him that he’s about to abandon orthodoxy forever, if he follows through. 

Wei Wuxian challenges this idea of orthodoxy, asking if Lan Wangji remembers the promise they made together, back in Gusu. It’s worth noting that they both appear to think of it as a co-promise, even though Lan Wangji didn’t speak aloud at the time. 

The conversation will continue in the next episode, because what’s better than a rainy romantic cliffhanger?

Soundtrack: Four Sticks by Led Zeppelin

[my-pleasant-good-morning]

Name 10 Characters from 10 Fandoms that you love

I have been tagged. So I guess that means you want to know some blorbos. Most of them will be from things other than shows. 

-Lets start with Renathal. I got a little burnt out of his side of the Warcraft fandom by anti-shipping toxicity and it reminding me of church related trauma but I still love him. Also one of my OCs is head over heels in love with the guy. Like I’m talking some Gomez and Morticia level get a room you two bs. And I love that for them.

-Michael Distortion of The Magnus Archives. AKA That damn yellow door, the walking drug trip, the twink with the yaoi hands, and the throat of delusion incarnate. What can I say. He is fucked up in just the right way for me to love him. Also. Monster Hot.

-Sunny from FNAF Security Breach. I want to spend a day crafting with him. There are a lot of feelings about him that I find hard to find words for but yeah. Lets make stuff together you beautifully uncorrupted robot you.

-Grand Karcist Ion of SCP lore but mostly @soliusss form of him. I enjoy the flesh jesus. I wish he would teach me to grow a dick. And maybe some other things. But mostly just enough flesh shaping for that. 

-Elim Garak from Star Trek DS9. I too wish to be a gay coded, villain coded, hero. And maybe also a tailor.

-Venom from Marvel. The Eddy Venom to be clear. Look at that walking marriage. When things are good they are fantastic. When they aren't I ignore the comics and read fic instead. 

-Khayman from Anne Rice's The Vampire Chronicles. Clearly I like my vampires old and pained. Probably because I want to fix it. Call it a power fantasy. I want to heal the things that time could not. 

- Maedhros from Tolkien’s extended writing. Hmmmm. It might not just be vampires that make me feel like that. Also who doesn't love ambiguous gift giving habits with a guy’s closest male friend? 

 - Stolas from Helluva Boss. Lets see? Gay? Yup. Aristocratic? Yup. Villainous? I mean he is a demon prince. How could I not love him, given that I am me.

-Harley Quinn of DC. I realized all I had here were men. For this I blame both how men get more depth in things and also my sexuality making me look at them more. I’m not the biggest DC fan but I enjoy Harley every time I see her and it isn’t merch that glamorizes her toxic relationship with J. More of her kicking ass on her own(or with Ivy) plz.

With almost all of them I feel like there is more I could/should say if only the words would word right. I also tried to only pick one per-fandom. It’s hard because I almost always don’t have just one favorite. 

I am not going to tag people because the person I most want to do this finds that too much like chain letters. So feel free to do this if you want.

[gunshou]

oh man i can't even choose which questions from that meme to send you lmao. how about 1, 4, 7, 9, 10, 11, 12, 17, and 19?

Ok, so for the sake of memes, we'll assume my fandom is just Bucky Barnes and not the larger MCU, because that's the truth.

Get a glass of water, because the waters ahead are salty af.

salty ask list

1. What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get? Winterspider. I can see Peter hero-crushing over Bucky, and Bucky being sort of bemused and flattered, but Peter is a teenager and adult Bucky would never. Aside from the fact they have almost nothing in common experience-wise (and Bucky has supertanker-sized buckets of trauma) Bucky wants a man, not a kid who can't even buy a beer. (TBH, shipping Peter with any adult freaks me the fuck out, sorry. I get why people do it, but it squicks me hardcore.)

4. Do you have a NoTP in your fandom? Are they a popular OTP? I really don't like reading Winterwidow. I know Bucky and Nat are a canon love affair in the comics (which I don't read), but if I'm gonna imagine any woman in Bucky Barnes' bed, it's gonna be me.

7. Is there anything you used to like but can’t stand now? When I first jumped in less than a year ago, I was enjoying a fic that DID-style separated the Winter Soldier and Bucky, and heavily woobied TWS persona. Now I'll whump the ever-living fuck out of the Soldier and adore him traumatized to the point of barely functioning, but I don't like reading him infantilized or having other characters woobie him. And I think having a dissociated identity Bucky has to be done with careful nuance now that I'm a *cough* discerning reader. *nose in the air, lol*

9. Most disliked character(s)? Why? It's a toss-up between Tony Stark and Peggy Carter. I've explained my Tony hatred elsewhere. Peggy employed and worked beside Armin Zola knowing that he experimented on and tortured Bucky. You can't tell me that a smart, driven woman at the head of her own spy ring didn't have some inkling that the Winter Soldier project was going on and couldn't put two-and-two together.

10. Most disliked arc? Why? FUCK. YOU. ENDGAME-STEVEN. No explanation needed. 11. Is there an unpopular character you like that the fandom doesn’t? Why? I'm with the rest of the trash squad in celebrating the Karpov renaissance! I don't think he's popular outside of our little circle and it's a shame. His bond with the Winter Soldier makes him a great character to explore. He kept the code book, which indicates deliberate sabotage of the American team when they came to claim his weapon after the fall of the USSR. Or maybe he just wanted to keep the only piece of the Soldier he could lay claim to. 12. Is there an unpopular arc that you like that the fandom doesn’t? Why? I mean, if you count "the fandom" as the wider group beyond HTP, than probably all the trash I adore would fit here. 17. Instead of XYZ happening, I would have made ABC happen… Oooooooh, boy. Um. I would rewrite Bucky's storyline in TFATWS. I would make his therapist explicitly a HYDRA sleeper agent employed by T. Ross to keep Bucky guilt-ridden and isolated so that he feels compelled to become the gov't's asset. John Walker would be groomed to be Bucky's new handler (blond, blue-eyed, Captain America). The fight against the Flagsmashers would start as a simple investigation into the super-serum that evolves into a world-spanning plot to destabilize countries just starting to get back on their feet after the second Snap, with the HYDRA-owned GRC poised to swoop in and seize full power. Bucky would be manipulated by judicious exposure of his trash past into serving HYDRA again only to be revealed in the climax as having manipulated them so that he could get close enough to the bad guy leaders to take them down. There'd be a truly vicious fight that calls upon every ounce of his deadly skill and capabilities so that he finally sees that while he may still be a weapon, he can aim himself now and fight for a cause he believes in. And then Steve would come back from the moon and they'd fuck onscreen. 19. What is the one thing you hate most about your fandom? Antis and purity police. Just let me enjoy my trash porn in peace, asshats. I guess the second thing would be the actual MCU writers, who managed to take vibrant characters and a strong narrative arc and no homo them into utter ruin and ooc behavior.

[chocolatepot]

youwillregretthis.jpg

So it all starts with antis, because "proship" only exists in contrast to anti-shipping.

As long as there has been the word shipping (so, since X-Files fandom), there have been people who defined themselves in opposition to a particular ship, often calling themselves "anti-[shipname]", but generally not related to each other. In the mid-2010s, this kind of specific anti-ness shifted into a broader subculture in which members just call themselves "antis" as a noun rather than a prefix. (I suspect this is related to a middle step of broadening from anti-[ship] to anti-[fandom] as people who hated Twilight in its entirety developed an identity focused on that.) Their general ethos was/is that what someone ships/writes about reflects their inner character in a fairly simplistic way: people who write a fic with a sexual or romantic relationship between one character above the age of consent and one below it (or with both characters below it), with an incestuous pairing, or with a pairing that could be considered abusive in the canon are showing that they are attracted to children, attracted to people in their family, or abusive. Some of them would allow writing these "to cope" (i.e. with the writers' personal trauma - much if not most of this stuff is written from the victim's perspective) but many others consider that unhealthy behavior. And not only does it reflect on their character, but it means that they are participating in or condoning actual criminal activity, and any abuse of them is justified because they are, effectively, e.g. a child abuser. They drive people to suicidal ideation, try to get them fired, make them delete their accounts, etc. I've also noticed a strong TERF strain - there's a lot of misgendering queer trans men as "fetishizing fujoshis" - and purity culture nonsense about sexless fiction simply being better than anything with sex scenes, particularly when it comes to queer fiction (for some reason).

This very quickly became a set of arguments for shipwars, and the definitions of all three "problems" stretched to cover any ship an anti didn't like. These characters have an age gap that means they would have been on opposite sides of the age of consent at one point, or this character is "minor-coded", or this character was shown as a child in a flashback in the show - shipping them is pedophilia. These characters are in a found family together - shipping them is incest. These characters are a hero/villain pairing, or they bicker, or they're close but they had a really big fight at the climax of s1 - shipping them is promoting abuse. These standards are purposely restrictive, and I've yet to see anyone identifying as an anti who doesn't have at least one ship that they should not be shipping according to the types of logic they apply to other people's ships ...

Anyway, the reaction to this among people who didn't or couldn't just ignore it (like because they were being harassed for liking a hero/villain ship) was for them to identify as "anti-anti" or "pro-ship." Typically, it means a) a recognition that things you read or write don't necessarily reflect what you want to do or have done to you and b) opposition to harassment. There are some fans who say they're "proship with exceptions," which is a bit meaningless but I suppose it helps them explain their position in some way.

I've seen people layering this onto OFMD for a long time now, and it's fascinating to me. There's maybe a bit of a parallel between Izzy-critical takes and anti-dom, but it's not remotely on the same scale, even including Izzy-Hating/Stede Stan Anon, and I think it's silly to invoke it. Antis on Twitter literally got a chronically ill illustrator fired and when they said they would probably die because they lost their health insurance, the antis celebrated. Nobody is doing that. Likewise, the fandom as a whole is pretty enamored with darkfic, kink, and exploring negativity - and definitely very pro-expressions of queer sexuality.

There are plenty of people who don't know what "proship" means. But I typically take "proships DNI" in a bio as a big red flag.

SamAburime on Twitter is an acafan who researches and writes on antis and purity culture - worth a follow.

Do you want the whole boring pedantic explanation of "proshipping"? Because I can do that if you want it but I don't want to subject you to it otherwise

I think I basically get it but you can hit me with it if you want

[asphodel-storm]

So. If Cobra Kai were DC.

First off, the man who is the source of most problems, John Kreese:

Kreese’s mentor was an agent of the League of Shadows/Assassins planted within the military. Kreese was invited to take his place after his death. He trained with Ra’s al Ghul after the war and then left to found Cobra Kai as a covert recruitment operation for the League (not every Cobra alum became an assassin, only the ones Kreese saw that potential in). Johnny was on the path to recruitment and it was the loss against Daniel and resulting fallout that changed that. Kreese has been on League business every time he’s been ‘dead’. 

Mr. Miyagi:

Mr. Miyagi was a Green Lantern. The ring chose him a while after he received his medal of honor and he was protecting the universe secretly during the Karate Kid movies. When Daniel overcomes his fear in TKK 3, Miyagi retires and the ring chooses Daniel.

Daniel LaRusso:

Daniel was a Green Lantern for years (a secret from everyone except Amanda and Miyagi), but the lantern’s power never replaced karate for him because karate is part of the balance that allows him to use the ring in the first place. The ring started to reject him during the period where his resentment of Johnny was overpowering his will (season 1-ish). It chose him again when he got a handle on that, but by then he had already turned his attention to teaching and empowering young people. He gave it up and it chose his daughter after she overcame her own fear at the end of season 3.

Samantha LaRusso

Samantha LaRusso was chosen by a Green Lantern ring after overcoming her fear and facing Tory at the end of season 3. She enters season 4 as a newly minted super hero. 

Tory Nichols 

Tory witnesses Sam as a Green Lantern early on. She has a lot of anger inside of her and seeing her rival - the girl who in her opinion was handed everything in life - chosen by cosmic power pushes her over the edge. Kreese encourages and feeds this anger, of course, though he does it with the intention of making Tory a better assassin. When a Red Lantern power ring chooses her that’s honestly a bonus. 

Johnny Lawrence 

Johnny was nearly recruited to the League of Assassins as a teenager - he would have been shipped off to official league training after highschool if he hadn’t lost to Daniel (and, likely, if Kreese hadn’t impulsively burned that bridge before remembering the larger plan). Instead, he was approached by the representative of an anonymous east coast billionaire after high school and paid to use his connection to the ‘late’ John Kreese  - and pre-assassin training - to infiltrate and sabotage some activities the League of Shadows had going in the Valley. He never learned the full extent of what the League was or his or Kreese’s connections to it during this time (like, he probably could have if he’d tried, but he’s Johnny). He was inconsistent at best in his vigilantism after that, putting on a mask and patrolling more when he needed an outlet than based on the needs of the community. He was briefly the ‘Batman of the Valley’ when Batman first franchised out into Batman Inc. He’d given that up for years by the time he met Miguel, but dusts off his cape when he learns of new League operations in the Valley in season 4 (likely being run by Terry Silver). 

His ‘cape’ is actually a red leather bodysuit. He definitely calls himself something like DeathFist or DeathFang or whatever in the long tradition of people in red bodysuits being called stuff like that (DeadShot, DeathStroke, etc.). 

Miguel Diaz

Miguel will hit the streets patrolling with his mentor, but the transition to vigilantism also hits him at a time when he’s realized he probably shouldn’t have Johnny on such a pedestal so he’ll also use the opportunity to strike out alone or with friends. The transition also comes at a time when Miguel has noticed certain changes about himself he can’t explain - like how he destroyed Demetri’s tv with lasers that shot out of his eyes when he got a bit too competitive about Mario Cart.

Yeah, the bad man Carmen moved them to escape was not connected to organized crime. He wasn’t Terry Silver. He was General freaking Zod. Why does General Zod live in Ecuador? He’s building up forces there. Anyways, Miguel is half Kryptonian and just awakening to his powers since his body has been healing from the school fight. The injury was a kind of catalyst and as he heals he’s also becoming invulnerable. So much for his rivalry with Robby, right? Nope, that’s still on. 

Robby Keene

Kreese thinks a mistake he made with Johnny was not bringing him into the fold sooner and getting him excited about the prospect of the League of Shadows. He knows very well that Robby will march out of Cobra Kai forever if he mentions anything about assassins before he’s ‘ready’, but he does start letting him know about the secret society of warriors and introduce him to some alumni who are with the league now. Maybe show off some missions where they actually intervened for good. Essentially, he makes him feel like he could be part of something - something that feels like family - which is bigger than himself (which is already an established part of his schtick). 

As part of this pre-assassin buttering up, Kreese procures something special for Robby - gloves laced with kryptonite. He told him it would only level the playing field between him and Miguel, but it is enough to weaken Miguel enough to be killed. The plan is for Robby to go in thinking ‘Miguel is pretty much indestructible even with these gloves’ so he goes all out and kills him and then while he’s dealing with the trauma of having killed him Kreese can pull him fully into the League. While the plan won’t work, the path to it will see Robby getting a lot more weapons/assassin-specific training than Johnny did.

He will eventually take over Johnny’s suit and code name.

Eli ‘Hawk’ Moskowitz

Kreese’s plan for Robby is a more elaborate and thought out version of his original plan for Hawk. Hawk was never really a top priority for Kreese, but he spiraled so nicely that it seemed he could be plucked off into assassin-dom early. He saw Tory and Robby as better prospects than Hawk for long term use in the valley in part because he expected to have Hawk shipped off to train under Lady Shiva by now. He just had to rip the murder bandaid, and the plan was to push him until he killed Demetri. 

Because Hawk was on the fast track, and because he was so good at convincing himself he didn’t care what he’d done to Demetri’s arm, Kreese actually already let him in on the true nature of Cobra Kai. He didn’t know for long before leaving and its not like he had any strategically vital info, but he knows enough to make him a loose end. Kreese sends the Cobras (minus Robby, but possibly including a Tory who isn’t quite used to her new power yet) after him. Hawk is murdered. And isn’t that a waste? 

Kreese set it up, but when the likes of Tory and Robby almost leave over it he pins it on Kyler ‘going overboard’ and says it’s fine, they can save him. Hawk gets thrown in a Lazarus Pit and rises confused and angry. Under the grips of Pit Madness he temporarily forgets a lot (like leaving Cobra Kai and reconciling with Demetri and Miguel, but also things like his parents. Kid is a very angry blank slate.) and since most people think he’s dead its pretty easy to send him to the League. He’ll turn up again a few months later, when the League sends a squad to secure their interests in the valley. He breaks off when he can’t quite kill Demetri in a fight, but he doesn’t remember why and roams around the valley causing trouble or helping out as he sees fit until Demetri can get through to him (Demetri’s eternal struggle). 

He doesn’t call himself Red Hood, but you get the gist. Hawk is already a code name. 

Demetri [Insert Surname]

Got Eli back only to lose him for good. He thought. Until Not-Red Hood shows up and causes problems. But the slippery assassin keeps getting away before he can really talk to him! Miguel is steadily developing Super Powers and wants to help, but things are also heating up over in the Main Conflict and Demetri is left chasing Hawk alone a lot of the time. 

Maybe it’s that determination that causes his latent metagene to activate. 

Demetri only ever thought super speed was the second best superpower, but he rethinks that after he has it. In hindsight, his smart ass does fit the speedster profile and Eli definitely can’t get away now! 

His lightning when he runs is blue.

And yep, that’s all for now. I’ll never write a fic for this ‘verse it’s just fun to think about. More so about how after the San Fernando branch of the League of Shadows is destroyed the kids can all make up and form a cool super team. Also, if I were to write fic, it would be Demeli. As I'm sure anyone I've interacted with in this fandom knows.

[927roses-and-stuff]

Miracles in Gotham: Chapter 3: Unwelcome Discoveries (Part 1)

Hey, guys! This fic is inspired by @ozmav mav’s Maribat AU. Shoutout to @mystery-5-5  for brainstorming ideas with me for this fic. 

Midterms have got me acting up. Despite the quarantine, I literally wasn’t motivated to write until the moment I could use writing to procrastinate. Absolutely brilliant logic. Truly. Thank you guys so much for the wait and I hope you enjoy this chapter.  

If you want to see more, follow: #miraclesingotham or ask to be added to the tag list.

P.S. For the sake of continuity, I’m going to ignore the Heroes United thing because that episode was basically a fanfic of the fanfic and as much as I loved the animation and the new characters...I’ve seen better plots and explanations for a lot of the similar problems in the Maribat fandom. Also Sparrow is probably a reference to Batman, anyways. Also, canon has just gone out the window...I guess...whoops. 

P.P.S. Swearing tw, death tw. 

Please remember this is rated M for a reason. Also, it is my headcanon that not everyone who dies during the akuma attacks come back. Of course, it’s not mentioned in a children’s show, but I’ve always seen the Miraculous Cure as a cure for physical, non-living objects as they’re easier to fix, and lives take a lot more effort and energy from the user to revive. And since Marinette is a child, there’s not going to be a lot of energy to spare.

Tag list: @northernbluetongue @spicybelladonna @my-name-is-michell @legendaryneckjudgestudent @lokiifriggasonn @zerotosiki

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To the members of the Justice League…

I am writing to you as Chat Noir, superhero of Paris and holder of the Black Cat Miraculous of Destruction, and partner to Ladybug, the official Guardian and the holder of the Ladybug Miraculous of Creation. I come to you with a plea similar to ones that we have sent you a year ago. The magical terrorist, Hawkmoth, is still at large here in Paris, France. If you are not aware of who he is, Hawkmoth is a domestic terrorist in Paris who relies on the power of the Butterfly Miraculous to create a physical and amplified manifestation of a person’s negative emotions, using the victim as a host, using magical butterflies as his form of transmission. These are called akumas. The akuma allows Hakwmoth to essentially get inside the mind of  his victims and manipulate and amplify their emotions.  We have been fortunate enough to have a failsafe in Ladybug, who can repair any physical damages, and even bring back lives, from these attacks. However, both Ladybug and I have reached our wits’ ends with no lead to Hawkmoth’s true identity. The people of Paris are suffering both from emotional trauma and the physical trauma of being subjugated, manipulated, experiencing bouts of amnesia, and even resurrecting multiple times. Hawkmoth has even taken to exclusively targeting a middle-school class at College Francois-Dupont.

Ladybug and I are aware of the risks superhero presence may bring since we will not survive a fight if any more experienced superheroes such as yourselves are akumatized. However, I feel that we have no other choice. Our Master has recently been put out of commission and the rest of our comrades have had their identities compromised. Ladybug is now the Guardian of the rest of the Miraculous. And although she will not approve of my plea, even your  advice or insight will be of use to us.

Please consider our plight and contact us as soon as you can.

Chat Noir 

Bruce Wayne was not a perfect man, he will admit. However, he did pride himself on his sense of logic and adaptability to most situations, as long as they stayed within the mortal realms of believability that is. Magic, however, or anything pertaining to the supernatural was out of his forte; in fact, he often liked to pretend it did not exist despite having acquaintances and enemies whose entire lives revolved around it. There was a reason he did not tolerate the  prolonged presence of meta-humans in Gotham, after all. 

He re-read through the email once, twice, again and again, desperately wishing that it had not been his shift to look through the messages that the Justice League received on a daily basis. Why couldn’t it have been Superman or Wonder Woman? Or better yet, Dr. Fate or Zatanna, never mind the fact that the latter was technically retired. Any of them would’ve made sense of this gibberish that was laid out in front of him. 

Initially, he thought it had been a coded message. It made perfect sense, in his opinion. The only concrete fact he could dissect out of this nonsense was the presence of a domestic terrorist and how they were targeting some middle school students for whatever reason. His mind recalled  the recent conversation he had with André Bourgeois yesterday. Even he had mentioned a domestic terrorist going after his daughter’s class, which was why he reached out to Bruce, since Bruce would be the most fitted to protect them with his resources, despite Gotham being the crime capital of the world. He nodded to himself; the facts were consistent then. There was a terrorist and middle school students were the targets. 

On one of the other screen monitors, he had pulled up records of College Francois Dupont School for a background check using a VPN to connect to French service networks. Both the email from this Chat Noir (Selina would get a kick out of that) and André failed to mention the terrorist’s intentions with these kids. However, looking through the different classes, there had been a special note besides Mme. Bustier’s class that stated:

“High vulnerability to akumas.”

This was where Bruce was once again stumped. Of course, he really couldn’t deny the existence of magic, but accepting that meant accepting that the terrorist used magical butterflies as his form of attack. Bruce wasn’t a qualified psychologist or any sort of specialist, but surely magical butterflies could not give you emotional trauma, mind-control, or even as Chat Noir had implied, a means to murder. 

Bruce scanned through Mme. Bustier’s class to look for anything that might be different from other classes. If he recalled correctly, this was the same class that André’s kid was in. He took note of the name, Chloé Bourgeois, and other notable names such as Adrien Agreste (who’s father was a fashion mogul and a model in his own right), Lila Rossi (a diplomat’s daughter), Max Kanté (a genius, and he noted to himself to see if that held true when the class was under his supervision), Marinette Dupain-Cheng (the class president and the designer of a recent rock album according to Jason who had obsessed over the cover for a few weeks before Alfred confiscated it), and Alya Césaire (an aspiring journalist who ran a blog called the Ladyblog). 

Okay, he rationalized. While not all of these kids were significant, some, like the Mayor’s own daughter, would be prime targets for a terrorist, so that made some sort of sense in Bruce’s mind. 

He sighed again, wishing that he had a cup of coffee or an energy drink with him at the moment. Unfortunately, Tim’s recent addiction meant no one could have it. Bruce scoffed underneath his breath. Alfred had really weird rules when it came to show “family support.” Tim was a grown man who should suffer his own consequences. Alas, no one argues with Alfred lest they risked his wrath. 

Bruce hovered over the link under Mlle. Césaire’s file, the Ladyblog. Perhaps it would give him some answers. 

As a bright ladybug designed website popped up, Bruce realized he might have been so wrong. 

He scrolled through the website thoroughly from the latest posts to the earliest. He noticed a concerning trend where the later blog posts centered more around one of Césaire’s classmates, Lila Rossi, and shaky videos of a red and black spotted figurem and a black cat figure fleeing the scene, or fighting some sort of abomination that Bruce did not even attempt to understand. In one video it was the two heroes against a flock of pigeons, or a gigantic baby, or whatever else. Bruce had half a mind to dismiss the entire blog as based on falsities, however one of the videos caught his eye. 

It was a video titled: “Syren: Paris Going Underwater!!” 

That was concerning, considering a flooded Paris would’ve featured on international news, not just on an amateur blog by a middle schooler. Fortunately for him, the video quality was clearer, allowing him to watch as the camera recorded the scene of that day. 

Bruce jolted awake and snapped to attention when he realized it was being filmed on a rooftop, and that the water levels were still rising as the video progressed. From what the camera captured, there were only a handful of people on each rooftop; not even making up a fifth of the Parisian population in total. 

What the fuck?

Then, as the video concluded, gigantic swarms of red and white bugs (ladybugs?) filled the camera’s frame and when it disappeared, everything was back to what he presumed was normal. The video then faded to black, posting statistics that chilled Bruce to the fucking bone. 

“Death count: 1.528 million Parisians

Resurrection count: 1.51 million Parisians

Injured count: 10 000 Parisians

Permanent death count: 18 000 Parisians

In honour of the Parisians who were not revived and were injured during the attack, the Ladyblog, offers our condolences, and will help in any way we can online and offline.  The akuma victim, as always, will remain anonymous for safety purposes.  Links to help organizations and donation funds to the peoples and families affected will be posted below. Additional links will be posted for available online mental health services.”

And, if Chat Noir was to be believed, some people had died multiple times. 

After making sure the video was not doctored in any way (though that would be cruel to assume about a kid’s blog), Bruce sent Chat Noir’s email (along with the earlier videos from both heroes and an email from Marinette Dupain-Cheng that he had found) and all of the links he had amassed to his own computer in the Bat Cave before closing all the tabs on the monitors. Swerving around, he stormed to the Batmobile, eyebrows furrowed in solemnity. 

Magic or not, whatever terrorist was plaguing Paris had a pretty damn high casualty count, and the only people that were stopping him were this Ladybug and Chat Noir people, who did not seem to be properly equipped (the Ladybug heroine was using a yoyo, for fuck’s sake) to deal with someone of this power. Not to mention, Bruce winced, their mentor  was “out of commission” whatever that meant, with their peers being compromised, so they probably had no outside help.

And it seems, Bruce’s features darkened into a scowl, his dear friend André Bourgeois had a lot of explaining to do. Police department has it handled, his ass. 

In the meantime, he was going to make damn sure the class under his care would have a relaxing reprieve even if he had to lock up every villain in Arkham Asylum himself. 

________________________________________________________________

Dear Diary, 

The talk with Chat was a bust. I know he thinks I don’t trust him, but I wish he knew how much I’m trying to, but it’s not as simple as he makes it out to be...right?  And of course I trust him with my life, but as the Guardian, I can’t just make impulsive decisions like going to other superheroes, especially when there’s no guarantee they would help us, or can even be trusted in the first place! And I can’t just reveal our identities to each other either. It would put Chat and the rest of the Miraculous at risk. And I really don’t want a repeat of Chat Blanc…

That future will never happen on my watch. I forbid it. 

Speaking of other superheroes, I think there might be someone though, who could help us, even a little bit. 

Marianne. 

She wasn’t a Guardian, but she was a Ladybug user for a while and was really close to Master Fu. She must know something. She’s in London so she might not be available but...

I’ll check up on her today after class! If she has any helpful advice, I’ll be sure to share it with Chat too. 

Gotta go!

Bisoux, 

Marinette

Scrambling to get ready, Marinette fumbled with her pigtails and shoulder bag simultaneously, trying to make sure that her pigtails were just right. Tikki zoomed around, helping her get ready by shoving stray pens and pencils into her pockets. When they were done, Marinette rushed downstairs, swiping one of the freshly-made quiche along the way. Just before she exited the store, she turned back to give her Maman and Papa a smooch. Hastily, she then left the bakery, the bakery’s bell ringing behind her as she sprinted to school. 

It was a mystery for most people, but despite living less than five minutes away from the school, Marinette was always late. Marinette liked to blame her Ladybug duties when Tikki asked, but she knew better. She had the habit of being late since before she knew the Miraculous existed. 

To be fair though, Marinette usually slept in because she was exhausted from schoolwork, designing,

and Ladybug duties. Was it her fault that Hawkmoth liked making 3 AM akumas? Was it her fault that coffee- for all the espresso and sugar she dumped into it, and despite all those hipster blogs saying otherwise- did nothing to help her stay awake? Of course not. If anything she was a victim here; a victim of late night akumas and faulty biology. 

Fortunately for her (and her quiche), she was actually earlier today than usual. She could see students milling around the courtyard behind the school. Some sat with their friend groups while others huddled to catch up on the homework from the night before. 

Unfortunately, one of those groups was Lila and her friends. Lila sat on one of the picnic tables, talking about whatever grand adventure she supposedly went on or whichever famous celebrity she supposedly saved from a rare type of cancer or something while her friends sat around her, captivated with every word. Marinette rolled her eyes. It was too early for this. 

She steered away from them towards the other side of the yard, where she could see Alya and Nino cuddling while finishing their homework. She glanced back at Lila, who waved at the couple before going back to whatever story she was regaling to her loving audience. It was probably because Alya and Nino hadn’t seen Lila greet them in the first place, but Marinette couldn’t help feeling a bit happy that they didn’t return her greeting. 

“Morning, guys!” She greeted as she approached their table, sitting on the other side. 

Alya looked up first. “Hey! You woke up early today,” she teased, giving her shoulder a friendly nudge.

“Heh, guess it’s my lucky day today,” she said. As she sat down, she began eating the quiche she had swiped earlier. “Well, almost, anyway.”

Alya rolled her eyes and smirked. “You live in front of the school. It’s your own damn fault at this point.” 

Nino, who had been pouring over a worksheet that was due today, finally looked up. Upon seeing Marinette, he smiled. “Hey, dude. You’re actually early!” 

At Marinette’s exasperated groan, both Alya and Nino fell into giggles, Marinette shortly following along. 

“Keep that up, and I’m not gonna let you guys eat at my place for lunch,” she teased, wagging a finger at them. 

Alya wagged her own finger, engaging in a finger sword fight. “As if your mom would ever let us starve!” 

Marinette laughed, as she wrapped her finger around Alya’s and lightly slammed it onto the table, declaring her victory. 

“Okay, okay, you got me.” Marinette went back to eating her quiche, devouring it before it got too cold. For once, she was in a pretty good mood. 

“Hey, Alya, Nino,”

And of course, she just had  to jinx it. 

Marinette didn’t even try to join in the conversation to acknowledge Lila’s presence. If Lila wanted to talk to her, she needed to stop lying about everything; and with her supposed “lying disease,” that wasn’t happening anytime soon. She only wished Adrien was here so someone could sympathize with her. 

“Oh, hey Lila,” Alya greeted, having gained her hand back and waved. “Ignore Nino here. He forgot about Mendeleiv’s worksheet due today.” 

“Oh, I see.” Lila said. “Well, you know, Nino. If you ever need help with science, one of my cousins actually won a Noble Peace Prize for his contributions in molecular chemistry.” 

Nino, to his credit, only muttered an “uh huh” before turning the worksheet over and frantically scribbling all over it. Marinette briefly wondered if Nino understood what he was writing down- or if he cared. 

Alya perked up. “Wow, that’s amazing Lila! What did your cousin do?”

Lila smiled bashfully, and looked away, waving her hand. “Oh, you know, it was the discovery of some man-made element.” Marinette had to give Lila credit- she knew how to fake her blushes really well. “I’m nowhere near as smart as my cousin, you know? All the scientific words get me so confused!” 

Marinette buried her head in her arms. Did she need to be here for this? She could just slip away? Glancing at Lila, who caught her eyes, she decided against it. Like hell she was letting Lila take away her time with her  friends. 

Alya laughed good-naturedly. “Oh, I understand completely. English is so much more of my forté, you know?” 

“Yeah I totally get what you mean.” Lila stopped laughing as her gaze landed on Marinette. Only she seemed to notice the glare she gave her.  “Oh, hi, Marinette. Glad to see you’re early today.” 

“Yeah,” she deadpanned. “Hi.” With a fake smile, she robotically waved at her. 

“Well, anyways I got to go. See you later Alya.”  Lila said, waving her fingers before finally walking away. Marinette exhaled. Thank kwami. She may have been less obnoxious today but that was probably because of Alya’s presence. 

Speaking of, the said girl turned towards her. “You could be nicer towards her.” 

“She almost got me expelled.” Marinette had had this conversation with Alya many times before. At this point, her responses came like clockwork. She contemplated telling Alya’s threat back in Lila’s first day, but she really wasn’t ready for the backlash if Alya accused her  of lying. 

“Well,” Alya stuttered. “It was because she has an illness that makes her lie uncontrollably.” 

Marinette was pretty sure there was no such illness but at this point, Lila had somehow convinced everyone it was an actual illness. That, or no one wanted to point out the obvious lie, including administration. Which would be pretty negligent of the school admin so she hoped not. 

“Alya, if it was just an illness that makes her tell lies, pray tell, who put the test answers in my bag and the necklace in my locker?” she asked. 

“Maybe, well,” Alya tried coming up with an answer but failed, thereby changing the subjects. “Look, both of you are my friends, and I don’t want to get in between the two of you.” 

Marinette sighed. “Yeah, yeah.” She picked up the discarded quiche container and her bag. “I gotta go to class and see if Mme. Bustier needs help.” 

Alya frowned. “Marinette, wait.” 

“It’s okay, really.” Marinette assured her, before walking away. When she was climbing up the steps to the entrance, she sighed heavily. She didn’t really understand Alya’s logic sometimes. If she knew about Lila’s supposed lying disease, why did she put Lila’s trash on the Ladyblog? If Alya knew Lila’s lies had led to Marinette’s initial expulsion, why still defend her? Marinette shook the thoughts away, not wanting to get into that impeding headache. Lila Rossi was never worth her time. 

When she reached the entrance, Lila was leaning against the doors, her arms crossed. Her olive green eyes were glaring right at her. 

“Dupain-Cheng.” 

“Rossi.” 

Lila strutted up to her, getting uncomfortably close to her face. “I told you what would happen if you didn’t play along.” 

Marinette stared back, unimpressed. She really had more pressing issues than this weird power play Lila wanted to play. Leaning back and stepping to the side, she said, “I already told you I’m not scared of you, Lila.” 

Marinette didn’t spare her another glance. In some ways, she pitied Lila. What kind of life did you have that you were so desperate for attention you lied about everything, and tried to get rid of anyone else who called you out? 

She really hoped Alya would soon see sense. Adrien had once told her to take the high road, and honestly? Sometimes, it felt good to not let Lila’s lies get under her skin. 

Then again, when did Lila ever go down so simply?