#i did start to feel some pain at the surgery site :/ so i stopped and we'll try again later this week

[chaoxfix]

finally back to lifting after a neck tumor removal surgery!!! possibly a bad move to start off this ambitious... but im feeling pretty cool to have done 10 unassisted pull-ups right off the bat! B) im a ways off of my past leg press weight but i'll work back up to it in time! (the bakery cant go out of business like this, i wont let her)

[munsonfamilyband]

I have no time right now to elaborate too deeply on this thought but I just had a brain worm and I need to write it down before I forget. Who knows, I may elaborate and make this a whole thing with dialogue tonight, we’ll see. TW for depictions of Steve’s injuries post s4, vomiting, gore(?)

Steve refuses medical treatment at the end of s4, they drop off Eddie and he hides in plain site until it’s time to take Dustin and Robin home.

They stop at Dustin’s first, both he and Robin getting out to get Claudia Hugs (I just know she gives INCREDIBLE hugs). He drops Robin off at home with her promising to keep her walkie on their frequency. And then he goes home alone.

He tries to shower, it hurts his feet and back too much. He tries to change the “bandage” but just gently tugging almost makes him black out from pain. So he collapses on his bed and passes out.

Days go by, he’s trying to act normal, like he isn’t always running a fever and his sides are itching and starting to smell under the cologne he practically bathes in. It works for a few days at least, but Claudia gets suspicious by day 3 post earthquake when Steve shows up for lunch with flushed cheeks. 2 days later he doesn’t show up.

She drives over alone, Dustin is at the Wheeler’s, and she lets herself in with the key Steve gave her and Dustin after last summer. She calls his name, doesn’t get an answer but something smells off. She’s a nurse, she recognizes the scent of disease.

She hurries upstairs and finds Steve in bed, only wearing boxers and the filthy scrap of cloth wrapped around his stomach. He’s sweating and has vomited on himself at least twice, recently too. She immediately knows that he is what smells, she can see the pus and blood on his abdomen. He’s delirious, mumbling to himself and part of her wants to shut down and cry, to go cradle this boy, her son in all ways but blood, but she can’t. She steels herself and walks to his bedside to feel his forehead, almost recoiling from how hot his skin is.

As she keeps checking him over, she grabs the phone on his bedside table and calls 911, cradling the phone between her ear and shoulder to keep working. When the operator answers she explains who she is, where she is and what’s happening.

It’s a blur after that until she’s sitting in the hospital waiting room and she realizes that 1. her shirt and her hands reek of Steve’s blood, and 2. she’s completely alone in the waiting room. Swallowing her tears, Claudia goes over to the payphone and fishes out some coins to call the Buckely’s. Robin’s father picks up but quickly hands it over when Claudia mentions Steve.

She will never forget the choked off sound of pure distress Robin makes when she hears what’s happening.

Hours pass, Robin had arrived shortly after the call and her and Claudia have been curled up together in the waiting room every since. They haven’t called anyone else, haven’t even thought about it, too worried about Steve. Later, Claudia will remember the other kids who adore Steve, Hopper who treats Steve like a son. But in that moment, still not knowing if her boy is okay, she can’t.

Finally, a doctor steps out, clearly fresh from surgery, to speak with them. She explains that Steve had a very severe infection in multiple wounds, especially the ones on his side. They had to debride the wounds, which is what took so long. He was lucky that she found him when he did and that he hadn’t picked up any truly terrible bacteria. He hadn’t gone septic, thankfully, but he was going to be on seriously strong antibiotics for a while. She explained that he was in the ICU and they aren’t supposed to let anyone but family see him.

Claudia wanted to scream and sob and go find the Harringtons and get them to come see their son, but before she even says anything Robin explains that Steve’s parents had all but disowned him and her and Claudia were both in his emergency contacts, not his parents.

The doctor lets them see him. They have to wear face masks and gloves, but they can see him. Claudia had never seen him look so small. And there, in that ICU room, her and Robin both broke and started crying. That was how Jim Hopper found them when he arrived shortly after, the nurses having called him. He’s wearing a mask and gloves but his eyes are wild and scared. He nearly falls over when he sees Steve.

Steve is unconscious for almost two weeks, though the first four or five days or so were due to sedatives - the doctor wanted him to rest and let the antibiotics work. After he was taken off the sedatives he was moved out of the ICU, to a regular room where other people could visit. The kids came and decorated his room, even brought something Eddie had “commissioned” from Will (it looked like Steve ripping one of those creepy things from that alien movie apart, which she really didn’t get). Joyce brought him the quilt from her couch that he always enjoyed at movie nights and Robin came in every other day with his shampoo and conditioner to wash his hair for him (on days she didn’t come to wash his hair, she would come do something else with him. One day Claudia walked in on her painting his nails and her heart felt like it was melting).

The day he finally woke up was the first day Robin hadn’t been able to come. Her parents had forced her to take a break and get some sleep, so Claudia was there on her own just reading a book. She was so engrossed in it that she dropped it in shock when she heard the person on the bed in front of her make noise. Her eyes instantly went to Steve and she could see him scrunching up his face and groaning.

Claudia was by his side in a heartbeat, gently grabbing his hand and brushing a hand over his cheek, speaking softly to let him know she was there. His eyes slowly squinted open, clearly struggling to get the energy to move at all. Their eyes locked and his mouth twitched, like he wanted to smile at her. Then, as she was watching him with tears in her eyes, he opened his mouth and spoke for the first time in weeks.

“Mom….”

[writerinturmoil]

Top Surgery Recovery

In this post, I’ll share how the next four weeks of recovery went.

Note: I covered the first week of recovery in a separate post: “Top Surgery Follow-Up”.

Week two went better than the previous one. At the start of this week, my sides felt sore where the drains had been, and my chest burned like I had a severe case of heartburn. I didn’t experience any pain, only a slight discomfort.

I had a hard time changing the dressing over my nipples. I found it difficult to cut the tape and to simultaneously hold the vaseline strip and gauze in place while I taped it to my chest. Either the vaseline strip would slide out of place or the gauze would bunch up. The set of fine motors skills needed to perform these operations didn’t coordinate well within my brain. I do have dyspraxia, and this could explain the trouble I experienced.

To solve this problem, I ended up purchasing a box of 2” x 2” adhesive Island Dressings from Amazon. I just cut off the bottom edge so it didn’t interfere with the Steri-Strip. I found it much easier holding just the vaseline strip in place while I affixed the Island Dressing over it.

The Steri-Strip didn’t come off on its own. At the end of week two, I had to remove it myself. It took a bit of time, but the strip came off without a hitch. During the removal, I felt no pain or discomfort. Applying the petroleum jelly felt good the first few times I applied it. My skin was so dry!

The binder still irritated me, but not as much as it had the week before. Perhaps, I’d gotten used to it.

This week coincided with Halloween and my birthday. On Halloween, I took it easy and watched Haunted Mansion (2023). I passed out candy but only got three trick-or-treaters. On my birthday, I went to the cinema and saw Here. It felt nice getting out of the house and doing something fun.

Week three started off horrible and got progressively worse. None of this had anything to do with top surgery recovery. On that front, I had no complaints. The scar and nipples looked good. I experienced no real discomfort, and the binder only irritated me under the armpits.

The horrible part of this week had mostly to do with my mental and physical health. At the start of the week, I got “the enemy” (what I call my period). And when “the enemy” arrived, not only did I have to deal with the menstrual symptoms but period dysphoria as well. I felt like I had the flu with the added bonus of severe cramps and heavy bleeding. The presence of these symptoms made me feel uncomfortable and not myself. I wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and disappear.

Two days later, the symptoms of a cold began. I had a sore throat, nasal and chest congestion, coughing, and laryngitis. Added to “the enemy”, it made for a miserable three days until “the enemy” departed. And with the departure of the enemy, the cold became a little more bearable.

This week also coincided with the 2024 US elections. Election Day knocked me for a loop. I couldn’t believe the results. I had a good cry, ranted in my journal, and tried to get on with the rest of my day. Easier said than done when my brain likes to obsess over disappointments and catastrophize every situation. 

Week four started out rocky but slowly improved. In the beginning, the cold ramped up into a horrible, hacking cough. I found sleeping difficult, for it felt like an elephant rested upon my chest.

As the week progressed, the intensity of the cough lessened before stopping altogether. By the end of the week, only some mild congestion in my chest remained, a slight burning in the lungs. Goodbye cold, you will not be missed!

During the worse of the cold, no matter how hard I coughed or sneezed, I felt not a bit of pain from the incision site. This lack of pain provided a great deal of comfort, for I had feared that the cold would slow down recovery, but fortunately, it didn’t. The incision across my chest continued to heal, and the scar continued to soften. I did occasionally experienced a twinge of pain in my sides, but that only occurred if I overextended my reach.

My nipples also continued to improve. Throughout recovery, the right nipple had scabbed more than the left. Not sure why. Despite one scabbing more than the other, both are healing extremely well. Dr. Gast had told me that I no longer needed to apply dressings over them after four weeks post-op, but for my peace of mind, I’ll continue to do so until the scabs fall off. “Better to be safe than sorry” as the old adage goes.

The binder really irritated me this week. The fabric kept bunching up, and the hooks kept poking my chest. I wanted nothing more than to rip it off and tear it up into tiny, minuscule pieces.

Another positive this week, I resumed work. It felt good to do something productive with my time instead of wallowing away in my despair and misery. I could also do much more around the house than I could the week before. I really felt like I had turned a corner in my recovery journey. I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Soon, I’d return to my level of normal: dysfunctional yet serviceable.

Week five brought further healing. The scabs along the incision fell off, a little bit each day, leaving a pinkish white scar behind. It looks really good!

The nipples haven’t healed yet. They still look like dry, cracked clay. I had to stop dressing them mid week because the adhesive from the dressing started to bother my skin. Instead, I started applying petroleum jelly to them several times throughout the day to keep them moist. The scabs on the nipples started breaking off towards the end of the week. Hopefully, by next week, the scabs will have completely gone, and my nipples will start looking like nipples once more.

I also had my final appointment with Dr. Gast. We discussed scar treatment and the lifting of restrictions. She felt that I should be able to do everything I had done before, but I know for certain that I need a few more weeks before I can do any task that requires heavy lifting.

And best news of all? I no longer have to wear the surgical vest! I CAN’T EXPRESS HOW OVERJOYED I AM! No more stench, no more bunching up, no more itchiness, no more pinching, no more poking. Bonfire, anyone?

So far, I’m delighted with the results. Despite it still looking a bit manky because it’s healing, I can now look at my chest without feeling uncomfortable and uneasy. I look at it in the mirror, and my brain goes “Ah, that’s how it’s supposed to look”. In a few months time, when it’s all healed, it should look really good. And I can’t wait for that day to arrive!

Well, that’s all I have time for today. Until next time, take care and stay curious.

[literalbirdperson]

So I'm going to tell the story of my yesterday, which started with an appointment with an ENT and ended with me in the ER. I'm doing this in bullet points, because I am very tired. (Also incredibly angry, but that might be adding to the tiredness.)

1:00 PM. Check in at the new doctor's. The facility is clean and bright, and all the staff are really friendly! That's always nice.

Meet the ENT I was referred to. I like him immediately. He's got a really relaxed, informal manner, but also very clearly knows his stuff.

Talk about surgical history, since I've had several nose and sinus procedures.

Since one of the reasons I am there for ear pain and recurring sinus issues, he starts the exam. Ears look great, he says! The pain is probably referred pain from my mouth. Do I grind my teeth? Yeah, I used to, but I might be again due to The Maladies.

He checks the back of my throat. "Oh, you have tonsil stones?"

"I... I do?"

Then he pulls out the horrible snake camera, and I resign myself to discomfort while he tours my nose and sinuses. I watch the screen and make very attractive "man was not meant to feel something pressing against a sinus wall" noises while he digs around.

Investigation over, he gives me a tour! Everything is about what I expected, he shows me old surgery sites, and then scrubs the footage forward a bit and goes "but here's where your problem is."

See, the other problem is, I keep spitting out these awful discs of dried mucus. And they stink!

Well. It turns out that I have a chronic infection in my adenoids. And what I keep spitting out is from there. I'll spare you the details.

Gross! But treatment should be pretty simple if it's staph, which it usually is. A couple of rounds of antibiotics usually knocks it out. If not, we'll culture it and go from there.

"So my throat has been infected for over two years?"

"Maybe even a lot longer than that!"

So we have a game plan. His assistant checks me out, hands me some papers and says "here's your record and a paper copy of your prescription, but we faxed it to your pharmacy as well."

2:00PM. The pharmacy app isn't showing them working on the RX.

3:00PM. I call them to see what's going on, get into a verbal fight with the phone tree, am finally allowed to leave a message. I am polite!

3:15PM. Pharmacist calls back. "We don't have an RX for that medication for you." Cool. I'll check with the Dr and have him re-fax. Oh! I have a paper copy of the-- there is no RX in my discharge papers, either. Fine. Calling.

3:30PM. There's nothing to re-fax, either, as the prescription was never even entered into my medical records! They are so sorry about the oversight, this is being flagged as high priority and his assistant will call you to let you know when it's been faxed to the pharmacy.

5:00PM. Why did I think something was going to go right for me medically? Why? Why me? Exhausted chronically ill/disabled breakdown incoming.

5:13PM. Text from pharmacy. They're working on the RX. It will be ready by noon tomorrow. Do you need it sooner? [YES]

5:15PM. Your prescription is ready.

5:30PM. Emotional collapse staved off for another day. Go to get RXs, with plans to stop to get ramen with spouse across the street from the pharmacy and enjoy the week being over.

5:45PM. Pharmacy tech tells me to go to the consult window if I want to talk about the antibiotic. Since it's completely new, I head over.

5:55PM. Pharmacist storms over, very clearly annoyed, and at me, not in general. Makes direct eye contact with me and starts reading me, word for word, the information on the bottle like I am a small child who can't read. I just wanted to know if there were any worrisome side effects.

Tell her to "have a good night!" She scoffs, literally holds up her hand in a "shut the fuck up" gesture and storms off.

Me and my spouse: "Huh. That was weird."

6:00PM. Take first dose of antibiotics with dinner to help keep stomach upset to a minimum.

7:00PM. Hives break out on my forehead. Then my thigh. Then my arms. Then suddenly my skin is bright red, bumpy, and burning literally everywhere.

That's not good. So I start looking up Bactrim side effects, since the pharmacist didn't deign to tell me. Discover I am having an allergic reaction, but only need to go the ER if my lips and face begin to swell, my vision gets blurry, or I have heart palpitations.

8:00PM. Lips are tingly. Look in mirror. I am lobster red and my face is swollen, as are my lips! I take two benedryl and both my inhalers, and we start looking for which ER to go to.

While we're looking, throat starts to swell. Swallowing is becoming impossible. Closest ER it is, even though I fucking hate it there. But it's a mile away and I want to be where the adrenaline and intubation kits are in case this keeps getting worse.

I am going to regret that decision.

Am forced to go through security and submit to a bag check before I can enter the ER itself. While actively struggling to breathe, which is distressing to both me and the guard.

Receptionist asks what I am there for. "I'm having an allergic response to an antibiotic. I can't breathe well."

She hands me a ten-page thick clipboard and tells me to fill it out, and then she'll get me in the queue.

What queue? There are TWO OTHER PEOPLE HERE. (See, everyone hates this hospital.)

So I start struggling to fill out the paperwork, but I am now to the blurred vision, mental confusion state. I keep having to pause to gasp for breath, and my penmanship is fucked because my hands are shaky from either albuterol or fear.

Spouse walks the paperwork back over to the receptionist.

We spend another 15 minutes sitting there while I am gasping for breath and grabbing at my throat every time I try to swallow because it feels like I'm being STRANGLED.

Nurse comes out to bring me back. We get intercepted by an angry man who has been watching me slowly dying but is still pissed because he got there first.

Nurse takes the time to explain to him what triage is while spouse literally holds me up.

I get a bed. Nurse tells me I'm having a classic allergic reaction and I'll probably be right as rain after some steroids. Hooks me up to all the monitors, tells me the doctor will be right in.

Doctor comes in. Listens to my lungs. Tells me my throat is not swollen even though she tried to grab to hold me upright when trying to swallow made me look like a gagging cat. But, my lungs are clear! Tells me they're going to monitor me to make sure I don't get worse, but she doesn't see anything to worry about.

LADY MY SKIN IS AS RED AS A VAMPIRE'S FAVORITE PAINT SWATCH FOR THEIR BEDROOM REMODEL.

She leaves. another nurse with the bedside manner of someone who enjoys kicking puppies walks in and starts taking my blood pressure.

The alarms go off.

"He put the cuff on wrong," he mutters, then wraps it so hard it hurts and runs it again.

The alarms go off.

"Do you have high blood pressure?" Mildly. NOT LIKE THIS.

"I'm going to go get the doctor." He leaves. He does not turn off the shrieking blood pressure machine.

10 minutes later: it's still screaming. Nobody has come by.

20 minutes later: see above.

30 minutes later: see above, except this time I start my stopwatch.

1 minute later: I get up and turn the fucking thing off, then unhook myself from everything.

40 minutes later: I am now itching so badly that I am scratching my arms bloody.

45 minutes after that, Puppykicker comes back in. "You ready to go home?"

Me, unnaturally red with hives so intricate that there are probably braille words on me, no longer struggling for breath, but 100% more bloody than I was when he walked out of the room an hour and 40 minutes ago: "Actually I'd like to speak with the doctor. I'd like to discuss steroids, since I am itchy."

"I'll go get her." Sure, Jan.

5 minutes later: Puppykicker comes in with a glass of water and a tiny cup of MASSIVE prednisone pills. "Here's 50mg prednisone. She says you're ready to be discharged."

The doctor. Is giving me. 50mg prednisone. Without speaking to me to see if I am allergic to it. When I came in with a severe allergic medication reaction. And is going to discharge me rather than wait around to see if I'll be ok.

Nurse watches me choke and struggle to take the pills. Because we're also giving an oral steroid to the bitch who can't swallow. Puppykicker does NOT care.

At that point, risking it and calling an ambulance if my throat closed up again was more worth it than staying there. Went home, stayed up long enough to confirm I am not going to start gasping for breath again. Passed out for two hours, got woken up by all 3 cats fighting over who gets to be in my lap. I have been taking two benedryl every 4h for the itching/hives and while my skin is its normal color again, everything itches so bad.

So my ENT is going to get a fun surprise on Monday when I inform him that the meds I had to fight to actually obtain have now left me with a hospital bill.

I also made an appt with my PCP, because this is the second medication since May that has done this to me. And they are not even remotely related to one another.

I guess what's 3 more days of living with a throat infection I've had for months, at a minimum?

[wqintraining]

NEW X-MEN: THE ANIMATED SERIES - SEASON 2, EPISODE 1

Season 2 opens in media res as the Blackbird flies toward Genosha. The only ones still on the plane are Storm, Kitty, and Sunspot. While Kitty panics and screams, and Roberto tries in vein to assure her it’s going to be okay, barely maintaining his own plastered smile, Storm is communicating with Captain Britain, who thinks she shouldn’t have left, but Storm insists her priority needs to be getting all the kids home so they can be tended to properly, and securing Nova. 

All three of them uncontrollably go silent as they arrive at their destination and look out the window, Genosha has been completely annhlated, reduced to ash and rubble, with smoke filling the sky. 16 million people, almost all Mutants, potentially including Scott, Jean, Emma, Magneto, and Kitty’s dad, are all dead. 

With Storm blowing away and working to clear the smoke, the three heroes, wearing respirators, rush onto what’s left of the once great Mutant nation. All around them, they seed wrecked buildings and corpses, and Sunspot accidentally steps on and breaks a bone. 

Kitty and Sunspot are barely holding it together as they stand on the site of a holocaust, unable to believe so much death could have taken place so quickly, and struggling to not cry or puke, but Storm, somber and sullen, but keeping her emotions in check for the moment, tells them they can’t break down yet. They have a job to do. There’s a chance some people may have survived, and are just trapped under rubble. They have to do everything they can to find them. 

Before they start searching the whole island, however, Kitty “needs to know”. 

Back at the school, Tag, Wind Dancer, Wolverine, and Bling! stand outside the medical bay. Laura’s face is practically right up against the glass, while Brian has a comforting arm around the nearly-sobbing Roxy’s shoulders. 

Inside, Beast, as well as Dr. Cecilia Reyes, who was called in to help treat everyone else who was wounded in the global battles with the sentinels, are tending to the kids. Cessily and Sooraya are still unconscious, but are stable, Noriko is awake in bed, but can’t stop shaking and looking at her gauntlets, even though all the blood has been cleaned off of them, and Julian is being prepped for surgery. Betsy is also having her wounds treated, with Rachel hugging her,  relieved she survived the battle, but disturbed by what Betsy told her happened. 

BRIAN, to Roxy: “Hey, Cess is gonna be okay. You heard what Dr. Reyes said, right?” 

Roxy just hangs her head. 

BRIAN, to Sofia: “You don’t need to worry either, Sofia. It’ll take more than some sentinel to keep Julian down.” 

Sofia maintains her blank expressions, staying silent, and tiny whirlwinds surround her fists. 

Brian sighs and walks over to Laura. 

BRIAN, to Laura: “You know, a sentinel did come by here. Ms. Grey was all ready to take it out, but I tagged myself so she could get rid of it away from the school. It wasn’t much, but it made me feel pretty good. And I was just thinking about how good all of you must have been feeling taking out a ton of these tincans.” Brian punches the glass. “I’m such an idiot.” 

It’s unclear if Laura heard a word Brian said as her wide eyes continue to stay focused on her injured friends. 

On Genosha, Kitty drops to her knees. The site of her father’s old home has been completely annhilated, along with the rest of its surroundings. It doesn’t even look like there’s a skeleton. 

KITTY: “Daddy…Daddy, I’m sorry. Daddy, please crawl out of there. Please!” 

Storm and Beto try to comfort her, but they phase right through her. 

KITTY: “Did you know in Judaism, it’s believed that cremation results in pain after death? Even if someone makes it to Heaven, the pain doesn’t stop. How could I do this to him? He was my Daddy.” 

SUNSPOT: “Kitty, you didn’t–” 

Kitty breaks down in tears, hysterical. Storm sheds her own tear, wishing there was something, anything she could do for her daughter. But there’s nothing she can do but push forward. Ororo instructs Beto to stay with Kitty, and get her on the Blackbird once she’s calmed down. She’ll handle the search by herself. 

We get a brief montage as Storm scours the island for any signs of life, but is met with death at every turn. She’s almost ready to break down in tears herself when she hears something rumbling. 

Flying up, she clears away the rubble around where the sound heard like it was coming from. Underneath, she finds Emma Frost, with Cyclops unconscious in her arms, a blank expression on her face, and sporting a new look - diamond skin. 

Storm swoops down and swiftly takes Scott from her, checking his pulse and breathing a sigh of relief that he’s alive. Ororo demands to know what happened here, and what happened to her. 

Emma…isn’t doing okay. 

EMMA, in a monotone: “The path to Hell is paved with good intentions, but over brimstone we must walk to reach paradise. Do you hear them, Ororo? Do you hear the children’s screams?” Emma forms a tiny smile. “I do. And I feel all their pain. How many children are there? As many as the grains of sand on a beach?” Emma’s face falls as she hangs her head. “Yes, Daddy, I am a bad, worthless girl.” 

Storm has no idea what to feel here, or what to stay, so she simply instructs Emma to follow her. 

In the medical bay, Sooraya’s eyes flicker as she wakes up. She struggles to sit up, seeing that Cessily is still unconscious, before she’s told to lay back down. 

SURGE: “The others are waiting outside, but aren’t being allowed in yet. You should rest.” 

Sooraya lays back down, grunting in pain as she expresses how much everything hurts. She then notes that Noriko doesn’t look like she was hurt at all. 

Noriko bites her lip as she looks down at her hands and generates a small amount of electricity between her fingertips. The Sentinels weren’t fast enough to hit her. Physically, she got out of the fight completely unscatched. But seeing her and Mercury nearly get killed? Watching Julian get his hands blown off, and having to grab his bloody nubs to cauterize his wounds so he didn’t die too? It was too much. She’s not okay. 

Dust doesn’t respond for a moment, just staring at Nori. 

NORIKO: “What?” 

SOORAYA: “Julian…lost his hands?” 

Noriko swears under her breath, having forgotten she was down by the time that happened, and confirms to her what went down. 

SOORAYA: “I see.” 

Noriko narrows her eyes at Sooraya. 

NORIKO: “Okay, what’s your deal? I know being all calm and zen and peaceful and quiet is your shit and all, but you should not be that way right now. You almost died! Where’s the panic?!” 

Sooraya sighs. She really wishes she hadn’t woken up next to Nori. 

SOORAYA: “I was hurt physically, yes. And I lack experience in all this directly. But nearly dying? No, that’s not enough to get me. Not with what I’ve seen before. Not with what I’ve done before.” 

Noriko falls back, slamming her head on her pillow. 

NORIKO: “Shit, Soo. I forgot. I’m sorry.” 

Sooraya smirks. 

SOORAYA: “The fact that you’re apologizing for your foolishness at all is a clear sign of progress.” 

NORIKO: “Aww, thanks.” 

PAUSE

NORIKO: “Oh, screw you.” 

On the Blackbird, which hasn’t taken off yet, Cyclops is still unconscious, Emma has passed out, and Kitty is curled up into a ball. Storm and Sunspot are awake and sitting up right, but they need this brief moment of silence. 

The silence is broken as the ship shakes. Storm and Sunspot leap to their feat, unsure of what’s going on as, from an exterior shot, we see the ship being raised into the sky on its own. Storm tells the others to stay put for a minute while she goes to investigate. 

Ororo flies out of the ship and quickly finds the one responsible for its movement: Polaris. 

ORORO: “Lorna…” 

Before Storm can say anything else, Lorna throws the Blackbird, wrapped in green magnetic energy, right at her. Ororo just barely dodges the attack, shouting at Lorna that they aren’t here to fight, and, over the coms, shouting at Kitty to get everyone off the plane. 

As Lorna takes another shot at Storm with the Blackbird, Kitty phases herself, Beto, and the unconscious headmasters out of the plane and onto the former shore of Genosha, while Storm summons a fierce lightning blast to annhilate the Blackbird in one shot, denying Polaris her weapon. 

Storm tells Polaris that she can’t imagine what she’s feeling right now, but she assures her slivers of that pain are shared by them all. Polaris just continues to shout in rage as she drags up rubble from Genosha to throw at Storm. 

POLARIS: “You X-Men killed our nation! It’s only fitting the nation kills you!” 

On the shore, Kitty and Beto are panting. Beto tries to tell Kitty he knows Lorna from his time here and he’ll talk to her, only to be decked across the face by an equally pissed, super fast Quicksilver. 

Knocked to the ground, Roberto is covered in ash. He freaks out as Pietro gets on top of him and begins punching him over and over again. Kitty doesn’t move, only crying out for him to stop. 

In the sky, Storm is exhausted both physically and mentally from the day’s events. She fights against Lorna to the best of her ability, but she quickly runs out of steam and is overwhelmed. 

As Roberto is beaten to a bloody pulp and Lorna traps Storm in a metal cocoon, ready to crush her, Kitty continues to shout, begging for everyone to stop fighting. 

The fighting is brough to a halt, but not by Kitty, as a single blast of red energy flies into the sky. 

Cyclops, having woken up, rises to his feet. 

All eyes turn to him. There’s a silent moment of tension before Polaris and Quicksilver release Storm and Sunspot from their respective grips, flying and running over to Cyclops. 

QUICKSILVER: “You have five seconds to tell us what happened here in a way that makes us want to spare your lives.” 

Scott, standing tall and proud, looks around at his surroundings instead of answering. 

QUICKSILVER: “SPEAK!” 

Pietro slugs Scott across the face, knocking out a tooth, and sending him to the ground. 

QUICKSILVER: “SPEAK NOW!” 

Tears stream down Scott’s face. 

Quicksilver is about to give him the same treatment as he did Roberto, but Lorna puts a hand on his shoulder to stop him. 

POLARIS: “One chance, Cyclops.” 

Scott swallows. 

CYCLOPS: “Magneto is alive.” 

Pietro and Lorna are baffled by how that could possibly be true. Everyone here died! Scott tells them that he and Emma were here when the attack happened. They only survived because Emma developed a secondary Mutation, enabling her to transform her skin into diamond. He only lived because she shielded him from the blast. And before the attack happened, Magneto had disappeared from where he’d been fighting sentinels. 

Pietro calls him a liar. He’s just trying to protect himself this way because he knows this is all his fault! 

Cyclops agrees that he shares blame with Cassandra Nova. Cassandra Nova, who, from the fact they’re here right now, he knows his team defeated. He knows his team defeated her, while he and Emma were saving the world, even if they couldn’t save Genosha. 

CYCLOPS: “Nova wasn’t the first mad woman to try and kill us all, and she won’t be the last. Whatever I’ve done, the mutants of the world still need the X-Men. And you both need us and our resources if you’re ever going to find out what happened to your father.” 

Pietro, breathing heavily, thinks about his offer, before still electing to go in for the kill. However, Polaris holds him back by his metal belt buckle. Lorna agrees that he and his team are still needed, but they will never be forgiven for this. 

CYCLOPS: “I wouldn’t expect to be.” 

With the situation calming down, Storm approaches, offering to do whatever they can to help pay tribute to their fallen. 

LORNA: “If you wish to respect our dead brothers and sisters, you’ll leave this place now, and never return.” 

With no more words, Storm summons a calm wind to lift herself and the rest of the team away, and begin the long flight home. Beneath them, Lorna breaks into tears and cries on Pietro’s shoulder as he holds her. 

CYCLOPS: “Ororo…” 

STORM: “Not now, Scott. Not now.” 

In a private room inside the Institute’s medical bay, Hellion has gotten out of surgery and is awake. All the usual life and energy from his face are missing, replaced by a dower scowl. That’s not the only part of him that’s missing, as his nubs have been wrapped in bandages; they couldn’t re-attach his hands. 

There’s a knock on the door, with Julian growling not to come in if this isn’t a doctor. Beast enters, happy to see him stable, and asks if that attitude applies to ALL non-medical personnel. 

BEAST, with a sly smirk: “Your girlfriend wants to speak to you. She’s been positively worried sick.” 

Julian’s eyes widen, but only for a moment, before he shuts them, clenches his teeth, and shakes his head. 

In the hallway, Sofia and Laura sit outside the private room, both in complete silence. Beast comes out of the room and informs Sofia that, unfortunately, Mr. Keller doesn’t wish to speak to anyone right now. 

BEAST: “I’m sorry. But I’m sure you can imagine what he must be going through.” 

Sofia glares at Beast, small whirlwinds once again surrounding her fists and expanding rapidly as a breeze fills the hallway. Beast is concerned, but before things can do any further, Sofia breathes and halts the use of her powers. 

SOFIA: “I understand, Dr. McCoy. Thank you.” 

Beast, still not entirely at ease, acknowledges her and walks away. Sofia tries to hold Laura’s hand, but, without looking at her, Laura bats it away. 

With the sun rising as a new day dawns, Emma’s woken up and is completely composed, but Storm is still flying her, herself, Cyclops, Kitty, and Sunspot home. Everyone is silent, until…

STORM: “What happened to Jean?” 

Scott takes a moment to answer. He informs her that she’s gone. She wanted Genosha dead, and she wanted them dead with it. Then, she flew off into space. Even if she does come back to Earth, the Jean they knew doesn’t exist anymore. Now and forever, she is Phoenix. 

Storm finally allows herself to breakdown and cry over the loss of her sister on top of everything else. Scott wipes his own tears from his eyes with his arm. 

EMMA, telepathically to Scott: “It isn’t the type of advice I usually give, but if there were ever a time to let your emotions out freely, it’s now.” 

SCOTT, telepathically: “You’re not my therapist, and I don’t want your advice on anything. Especially when you’re not even following it.” 

EMMA, telepathically and mockingly: “Oh no, you caught me, I’m as devastated on the inside as the rest of you. I have a heart. Sew me. But I do what’s best for me, and you should do what’s best for you.” 

SCOTT, telepathically: “You don’t know the first thing about what’s best for me.” 

Emma scoffs. 

EMMA, telepathically: “A “thank you” for saving your life would have been nice.”

As Storm continues to sob, Kitty hugs her. She was comforting her all night, and she wants to return the favor. But she also needs help. Her father’s body may be good, but he still deserves a funeral as soon as possible, as per Jewish tradition. 

KITTY: “Maybe working on that would help keep our minds off everything else?” 

Storm sniffles as she smiles and nods. 

STORM: “Yes, Kitty. I’d be happy to help.” 

In the back of the pack, Roberto is literally steaming, hate in his eyes. 

Storm, completely exhausted, lands the team in Central Park. They can walk from here. However, as the other four members of the team start heading toward the school, Beto walks in the opposite direction. 

CYCLOPS: “Where do you think you’re going, Sunspot?” 

SUNSPOT: “Relax. I’m not quitting or anything. But you’ll excuse me if I need a couple weeks to myself. I’ll be back soon. Try not to miss me too much.” 

Scott calls after him as he departs, but he doesn’t have the energy for that right now, and let’s him go. 

In the medical bay, Roxy excitedly hugs Cessily, thrilled her new girlfriend is okay. She does accidentally hug a little too tight and hurt her though. Brian is also inside the medical bay, helping the still injured Sooraya in getting into position for her morning prayers. Noriko is noticeably no longer here. 

Sofia floats above the school. The bodies outfront have all been cleaned up, but the foul stench remains, causing her nose to wrinkle. 

LAURA, over the winds: “Hey.” 

Sofia turns her head and sees Laura, out of costume, standing on the roof. 

SOFIA, over the winds: “Hello, Laura. I’m glad you’re speaking again.” 

Laura takes a deep breath. 

LAURA, over the winds: “I…I’m so sorry.” 

SOFIA: “Sorry? For brushing me off before? Do not worry about it.” 

LAURA: “No. No, not for that. I’m sorry I took you all out to fight. None of you were ready. And most of you were hurt. Especially Julian. Because of me.” 

Sofia tells her that’s not true, and no one’s thinking that, but Laura snaps back that she’s not a telepath, and none of them are stupid enough to not know she’s the one to blame. 

Sofia, keeping her cool, flies down to the rooftop to look the brooding Wolverine in the eyes. Wind Dancer insists if what happened was anyone’s fault, it’s her own. Laura wasn’t entirely wrong. Herself, Surge, and Dust? They WERE ready. Hellion and Mercury weren’t though. If she just followed Kitty’s orders and got them out of there instead of encouraging them to fight, they wouldn’t have been harmed. 

Laura counters that Sofia can’t blame herself. She’s just a student. She was the X-Man there, and she should have been more responsible. 

LAURA: “I wanted to keep you all safe. But I didn’t want you all thinking I didn’t trust you. You’re some of the only people I do.” 

Sofia appreciates that, but reminds Laura that SHE’S a student too. She may be the best there is as what she does, but there’s still a lot she doesn’t do. But she will. And they’ll learn. Together. 

Laura continues to hang her head in shame in spite of Sofia’s kind word, only to start giggling uncontrollably as Sofia uses the wind to tickle her nose. 

LAURA, giggling: “Stop that.” 

SOFIA: “I would, but I like it more when you smile. I’d rather not have to force it.” 

Laura laughs for real as Sofia takes her hand and flies them off the room. 

SOFIA: “Come. Brian texted me Cessily woke up. We should go say hello.” 

As Sofia flies them to their destination, Laura makes puppy eyes at her. She clearly still isn’t over her. 

In his office, Scott is being swarmed with phone calls. As much as he’d love to be resting, he can’t sleep yet, even as he’s barely keeping his eyes open. Xavier’s old friends and allies demand to know what’s going on, parents are hearing about what happened on the news and are worried about their kids’ safety, old X-Men are freaking out just as much (Cannonball is the one we hear calling, with him worried about his sister Melody), and mixed into all of this are the usual prank calls Scott receives from anti-Mutant bigots, with them today calling just to shout that the rest of the Muties are next. 

Scott is working with multiple phones and computer monitors and trying to keep track of everything, but it’s all too much. Sweat drips down his face, his heart pounds against his chest, and it seems like the worst may be about to happen. 

Before that can happen, however, his seat is rolled away from his desk, forcing him away from all his screens. Emma, as she’s one to do, leans against the doorway with a flask in hand. 

EMMA: “You’re not going to do us much good if you kill yourself, darling.” 

Scott knows he says this a lot, but right now, he really does NOT have time for her. Emma laughs, coming further into the office. He can’t seriously want for things to go back to how they were between them, can he? 

SCOTT: “What we did caused all of this happen. All of those Mutants are only dead because of us.” 

EMMA: “No, they’re dead because your mentor loves his secrets, his bitch of a sister is a monster, humans hate us as much as they ever have and were happy to do all her dirty work, and your wife is a vengeful god whose been ready to snap at the slightest provocation.” 

SCOTT: “Do NOT talk about Jean.” 

EMMA: “I’m not insulting her. I’m calling it like it is. We played a role in Genosha’s destruction, yes. But it was a tiny one. We did not destroy Genosha. Like you told Magneto, WE saved the world.” 

Scott stands up and walks over to Emma. 

SCOTT: “You don’t believe a word you just said.” 

EMMA: “Excuse me?” 

SCOTT: “Exactly what I said. You’re blaming yourself as much as I am. You’ve never forgiven yourself for the Hellions or Synch and Skin, and I’m supposed to believe you don’t wish you’d died with the rest of them like I do? Please.” 

Emma tries to maintain her front, but her wall is broken down as she hangs her head in shame. 

EMMA: “If we’re stuck going on, we owe it to the four million of us still alive to do everything in our power to protect them.”

SCOTT: “I couldn’t agree more.” 

EMMA: “Good.” Emma picks up her head, and, with it, puts back on her usual game face. “Then scootch over and let me handle half those screens so we may share the weight of the burden.” 

Scott hesitates before agreeing and making room for her behind his desk. 

SCOTT: “Thank you, Emma.” 

EMMA: “You’re welcome, Scott.” 

PAUSE

SCOTT: “Scott?”

EMMA: “We’re a little past, “Mr. Summers”, don’t you think?” 

The two share a smile for just a moment before they get back to work. 

Surge walks through the school’s hallways. Word of what’s happened has spread, but with the details only known by a select few, rumors are mixed in. 

“Is Genosha really gone?” 

“They can’t all be dead, right? No one can kill Magneto.” 

“I heard it was aliens.” “You mean like the Shi’ar?” “No, stupid, Mutants are friends with the Shi’ar!” 

“How long before we’re next?” 

Noriko arrives at her destination and knocks on a door. Kitty tells her to come in. 

Surge enters Kitty’s bedroom, which Noriko mutters under her breath could be confused for any teen girl’s here if not for her wall of degrees. She and Storm are seated on her bed, binder on their laps, deciding what to do for Carmen’s service. 

Noriko tries to say hi and ask how they’re doing, but it all ends up coming out super fast and incomprehensible. 

Kitty gets up and hugs her, Noriko’s uncontrolled electricity phasing right through her. 

KITTY: “I’m living. More importantly, how are you?” 

NORIKO: “I…really don’t need a therapist right now.” Nori pulls away. “Shit sucks. We all know it. We’re all scared. We’re fucked and probably going to die. I was kinda hoping I could just hang out with you and take my mind off things. Not like any of my squad are up for that.” 

Kitty, first off, promises her that they aren’t going to die. The X-Men aren’t going to let that happen. But right now, if she needs a distraction, this isn’t the place to be. 

KITTY: “My daddy lived on Genosha. He’s gone now, just like all those Mutants. Storm and I are just trying to figure out what to do for him.” 

To Kitty’s surprise, Surge jumps at the chance to help. As Nori explains, Kitty’s always been better to her than any other teacher here besides Dani. Even when she was a bitch to her. And she wants to support her in turn. Plus, a task to focus on is a task. 

Kitty smiles, and Ororo offers Noriko to come take a seat with them. Kitty and Nori sit down, and the three get back to work. 

Still alone in his private medical room, Julian seethes with his eyes clenched shut. Opening them, he attempts to telekinetically bring a cup of water left for him up to his lips, instead of bending over to sip, but he ends up dropping it and spilling the water all over himself. 

JULIAN: “DAMMIT!” 

Julian re-shuts his eyes and is about to start crying when the door creaks open. He tells McCoy to go away, but Beast isn’t here. 

“I do hope that isn’t a desire to give up I’m sensing, Mr. Keller.” 

Julian opens his eyes and sees Emma. 

EMMA: “After all, you still have so much potential. It would be a pity to waste it.” 

Julian rolls over on his side and asks how she could possibly still think that looking at him now. He’s a damn cripple! Emma is quick to remind him that the founder of this school, and one of the most powerful and accomplished Mutants alive is wheelchair bound. Especially with the gifts he possesses, there’s nothing he can’t do now that he couldn’t do before. 

Julian brushes that comment off and asks if they’ve told his parents what happened. Emma tells him she just got off the phone with them. The hung up as soon as she confirmed he was still alive. 

JULIAN: “Yeah. Sounds right. Bastards.” 

Emma tells him that, while this specifically isn’t something she’s experienced, she can imagine how he’s feeling. To go through such horrible trauma and pain, with your parents not giving a damn. To feel like all is lost and it’s not worth it to keep going. She knows these feelings well. 

EMMA: “But you have something important that I did not. You have friends who care about you. Who’d do anything for you. You have Sofia. When I was at my lowest, I hardened my heart so that I could never be hurt again. Doing so only served to make me even more miserable. Don’t repeat my mistakes.” 

She believes in him. And from Kitty’s report of what she witnessed in his battle with the sentinels, she knows she can still make a hero out of him a yet. A great one. 

Julian seems like he’s gotten the message, but remains despondent. He thanks her, but he’d really like some privacy. As she leaves however…

JULIAN: “Wait…what ended up happening with Nova? And Ms. Grey?” 

EMMA: “...get some sleep.” 

We cut directly to Cassandra Nova. She’s in a secured jail cell, fully restrained, with a device on her head to block her telepathy. In spite of this, she has the widest grin on her face. 

Scott and Emma enter this underground level of the Insitute, where they find Betsy and Rachel, who’ve been guarding Nova. Rachel in enraged upon seeing her dad and flies over to him, encased in her fiery aura. 

RACHEL: “You have a lot of nerve coming down here with her.” 

SCOTT: “There’s work to do, Rachel. Right now, we need to speak with Cassandra. But…please stay. I was actually hoping you might–”

RACHEL: “Dad, if you’re about to ask us to stay here and join your team, I’ll burn you where you stand.” 

Scott hangs his head once again, while Rachel’s angered is somewhat quelled as a purple aura surrounds her, her wife mentally comforting her from a distance. Betsy then walks up to her and hooks her arm around hers. If they have this covered, they’ll be taking their leave now. 

BETSY: “Well done proving you’ll never be anything but a bitch, Emma.” 

EMMA: “Thank you, Captain. It’s what I strive to do everyday.” 

As the two telepaths depart, Betsy telepathically tells Scott that she and Rachel will be returning to protecting the rest of the multiverse. 

BETSY: “Do try to not let this one universe burn on your watch.” 

With that, Captain Britain and Prestige leave. 

Scott sighs. Emma tells him Rachel will forgive him one day. Ideally by then, she’ll actually understand what her deal is. 

Scott and Emma enter Nova’s cell and confront her. She opens the conversation with mockery, asking how the ashes of Genosha smelled. Oh, how she wishes she could have smelled them herself. Losing to Storm and the others was very much not part of her plan, she wasn’t going to stop until all Mutants were dead, but she’ll just have to settle for slightly over 75% of them. 

NOVA: “What ARE you planning on doing with me now? Hmm? Are you just going to keep me locked up here forever? Surely you could never trust SHEILD to keep me secure. Or maybe you’re going to kill me. Just like you did Stryker, Cyclops. Just like you have COUNTLESS people, Emma.” 

Scott asks if he she truly feels no remorse, with Nova answering that she isn’t capable of feeling such a thing. Say, has he TOLD anyone what he did to Stryker yet? She imagines that will be a fun conversation. 

She cackles. 

NOVA: “Hmm. No. No, you haven’t. And that’s not all I’m sensing.” She looks right into Emma’s eyes, with hers bulging out. “You have no intention of leaving this room with me alive. Are you going to let this happen, Scott?” 

Rather than answer, Scott has one more question for her. Her plan HINGED on Dark Phoenix. If she’d just unleashed those sentinels without her present, they would have been able to stop them, AND take her down much more easily. 

Nova cackles. Oh, she’s so glad he asked. 

NOVA: “Did you think the Purifiers popped into thin air? No, no, no. My plan began over one year ago. Just after the old X-Men broke up. Not only did I make contact with Styker and begin building my army of gullibe expendables, but I made contact with someone else - the Phoenix. While you and Jean were enjoying your vacation from do-gooding, I was speaking with the primal force inside her. It respected my power, and way I’d fought to cling to the life I was owed. And in turn, I respected it. The most powerful force in the universe. The most perfect. And I was sure to remind it of this. How it was beyond all other beings. And how if it was going to choose to continue living among humans, it deserved the best from them. Slowly but surely, it began to influence Jean more and more. And you didn’t even notice. Because while she may have been acting too good to be true, that was how every single one of you saw her already. All it would take now would be one good push to send her flying over the edge. One betrayal.” 

Nova cackles again as a horrified look of realization materializes on Scott’s face. 

NOVA: “I had no way of knowing you and Emma would sleep together though! That was Christmas morning for me! My plan was just to have William break you and force you to kill him, and let that one act slowly break apart your relationship, but then you went and betrayed her in such a more personal way that very same night! All of this was inevitable, but thank you so much, Cyclops, for speeding up my timeline!” 

Nova continues to cackle. And cackle. And cackle. And cackle and cackle and cackle and cackle. 

Until she can’t cackle anymore. 

With a single blast, Cyclops blows her head off. 

Scott is frozen. He shows no signs of regret over what he just did, but he needs a moment to process it. Emma holds his hand. 

EMMA: “There was no other way.” 

CYCLOPS: “Nothing she said changes anything. We’ll never know if her original plan would have worked, or if she only succeeded because of us.” Scott pauses. “You don’t need to take the fall for Stryker’s death. Or for this. I’ll tell them everything.” He pauses once more. “Thank you for saving my life.” 

Emma weakly smiles and rests her head on Scott’s shoulder. Scott rests his head on hers. 

With sunset having arrived, Storm, Kitty, and Surge are gathered in the school’s cemetery. There was no body to bury. They couldn’t even tell which ashes were his. But they could at least give him a tombstone. 

Wrapped in a tallit, Kitty reads from a Hebrew prayer book, while Storm and Surge struggle not to cry. The prayer ends with them all saying “Amen”, and Kitty’s mother and student holding her. 

In his room, Julian is eating dinner, struggling but managing to use his form with his telekinesis. Once more, there’s a knock on his door. He sighs and tells whoever it is to come in. He knows they will anyway. 

His eyes widen as Sofia enters. 

Julian starts asking her not to look at him like this, but she cuts him off, exclaiming how fully of joy she is that he’s okay. 

JULIAN: “Okay? Do I look okay?” 

Sofia flies over so that she’s next to him. 

SOFIA: “You are alive. That is all that’s important to me.” 

She slowly places a hand on his face and tells him she’s going to help him get through this. His whole crew will. Things will be better soon. And then they can resume training to assure their bright future. She’s so sorry she pushed him to keep fighting when he wasn’t prepared to, but she saw how excellent he was when he did join the battle. She never wants to go into battle without him at her side. 

Julian nods. He hears her. 

And then he telekinetically removes her hand from his face. 

JULIAN: “I appreciate the apology. Now fuck off.” 

SOFIA: “Wh…what?” 

JULIAN: “Leave! You hear me?! We’re through!” 

Sofia instantly begins crying. 

SOFIA: “You…what are you saying?” 

JULIAN: “Suddenly so dumb you forgot how to speak English? I’m over you! So get out of my life.” 

Sofia is fully sobbing. 

SOFIA: “You do not mean this. You would never be so cruel to me.” 

JULIAN: “Surprise! Ashida was right! I’m a jackass, and you never should have gotten involved with me!” 

With her face red and puffy, covered in tears and mucus, and her makeup ruined, Sofia flies out of the room, blowing a powerful wind behind her that knocks over some equipment, and knocks Julian’s dinner onto him. 

JULIAN: “Fuck. Fuck!” 

We cut back and forth between an X-Men team meeting, and a school assembly. In the assembly, Scott makes clear the tragedies of all that’s transpired clear to the students. The world will always hate them. No one is coming to save them, even after this. But that’s why the most important thing they can do is protect each other. 

While he’s speaking, we see Julian still in bed, not present at all, Cessily and Roxy in attendance, holding hands in fear, Sooraya seated next to them with more firm confidence, Noriko and Brian ditching to go work out, and Sofia, alone in the dark her room, crying into her pillow. 

In his office, Cyclops has Emma, Storm, Kitty, and Wolverine gathered. He’s just finished telling them about Stryker and Nova’s deaths. 

While Laura is surprised by Scott going against everything he’s been teaching her, “X-Men don’t kill” and all that, she has no issue seeing why these two would be exceptions. Storm to Scott’s relief agrees with Laura, while Kitty continues to be disappointed in him. 

That all said, there’s the issue of the future of the X-Men. They must continue. They must protect the 4 million of them left, and see to it that they can restore their numbers, no matter what it takes. However, he completely understands if the team doesn’t want him and/or Emma to continue being a part of this. Or, even if they do, if they’re prefer Storm be put in charge of both the team and the school. Beto gave his right to vote by not being here, so it’s solely up to Storm, Kitty, and Laura. 

CYCLOPS: “Emma, first. What do you all want?” 

The three take a moment to think. Laura is the first to answer. Yes, the two did a bad thing. But it was a bad thing largely unconnected to the mission. They had no idea what would happen. And from the sound of things. Nova’s plan would have gone off either way. Tactically, Scott is their best tactician, and Emma their most powerful fighter left, alongside Storm. She gets all three of her votes out of the way, wanting both Scott and Emma to stay, and for Scott to remain in charge. 

Storm is quick to follow Laura’s vote. She wants Emma gone. Regardless of everything else, it’s undeniable that this wouldn’t have happened if she’d never come here. Scott never would have done something like this if she’d never come here. It’s time for her to leave. 

Emma’s fate is left in Kitty’s hands. 

KITTY: “You’re a bitch, Emma. You’re a monster. For most of my life, you were what I pictured when I thought about the concept of evil.” She sighs. “But Laura’s right. You’re one of our strongest. And with Betsy and Rachel not staying, you’re the only one left who can operate Cerebro. Finding new Mutants and keeping them safe is more important than ever. To say nothing about the kids. They just lost one headmistress. It would just scare them even more if another one disappeared. And with Hellion in the condition he is right now, he needs you most. I hate having to say this, but we need you.” 

Emma grins, delighted that her staying here is settled. 

As for Scott, Storm and Kitty make it unanimous that he should stay, but only Storm votes for him to stay in charge. 

KITTY: “I’m sorry, but I don’t trust you as much as I need to right now.” 

Scott understands. Still, that’s 2-1. He thanks Ororo for HER trust. 

Storm knows he’s made mistakes before, but the Scott Summers she knows, the Cyclops she knows, learns from them. And she trusts him to not be duped or manipulated by witches again. She also clarifies that her vote comes with a condition. If Emma MUST stay, she may continue to help run the school, but she wants it very clear that SHE is second in command of the X-Men. Scott easily agrees to this. 

SCOTT: “Thank you, my sister.” 

ORORO: “Do not let me down, my brother.” 

Scott takes a breath. This isn’t going to be easy, but he knows they’ll make it through this. It’s time to get to work. 

SCOTT: “To me, my X-Men!” 

[cakesexuality]

8 months Lupron, 1 month add-back

I've discovered that I'm now slowly growing a very small amount of dark facial hair that isn't super visible but I'm p sure it wasn't there before, and I mean if you're hoping to do testosterone later on or if you're using testosterone as your add-back then this is probably a desirable effect for you, but I'm using estrogen and progesterone as my add-back for a reason lol

(I didn't know this was something that could happen!! Bc it turns out that it's not about your testosterone on its own but your testosterone in proportion to your estrogen and my testosterone has hardly budged while my estrogen has gone way down, and I'm still working on how I feel about this but it might be helpful info for someone else)

I don't think my body shape has changed at all, since I feel like my fat has redistributed since starting Lupron, and I know for a fact that my bra size hasn't changed either, but it can take a few months to begin to see those sorts of changes with estrogen

Progesterone helps with my digestive issues but the two days on, two days off with Jencycla is causing some :^) flip-flopping of symptoms and I need to talk to my gynecologist about that, like if I could do every-other day to help even it out, although this is preferable to when I was on Depo and it would wear off after a couple months and things would get worse for weeks on end instead of only for like... half a day

Ever since my 2nd shot (my 1st 3-month shot that I got in October), my site (left arm) keeps getting a lil bit sore on and off when it shouldn't be even though that's never happened to me with stuff like Depo-Provera and flu shots and even my COVID shots stopped hurting after the first few days, and I had pain go down my arm when she did my most recent injection (April) which also has never happened to me before when getting any sort of injection, but I have muscle and nerve issues in my arms due to scoliosis so I think I'm gonna ask if we can try a different site like my thigh next time (July) so we can see if it's actually from the Lupron or if it's only from my shoulders being fucked up (or even if my body is just angry at me for always using the same site!!)

(I think I had mentioned that my arm kept getting sore in a previous update?? But I'd been spending a lot of time at a friend's house around that time where the way I sit on his couch puts weird pressure on my site so I thought it was from me being stupid and sitting wrong, but I haven't been to his house in a few months now and it still happens so it's probably not actually that)

I said last time that we weren't sure if I would transition to doing my shots at home bc I don't have the pain that I did when my Depo would wear off, but bc I've been having to go to so many appointments for other things, doing my shots at home might help take stuff off my plate

I still haven't had a consult with the anesthesiologist to talk about laparoscopy bc I haven't heard from anyone, I don't know who the doctor is so I can't reach out directly, and I called my gynecologist's office last week to ask if they knew what was up with the referral so I could maybe get my consult booked, since my gynecologist was hoping to have the surgery done before my next injection, but the receptionist doesn't know who the anesthesiologist is either, so she was gonna talk to the gynecologist and get back to me

[thisissite]

Am I having a genre crisis or is it burnout? Yeah, two posts and I’m already feeling bad. Well. Go ahead. Also fucking ovulation.

Will you let me skip back in time? I promise I will come back, but now I need to write exactly this, I don’t know why.

I had just turned 13, was baptized and became a full member of the Baptist Church. I made my best friend there. How awesome she is. Can't convey it to you. On the one hand, she seemed like such a bitch to me, but at the same time super kind. But at some point I wanted her to be happy so much that I wrote to her anonymously. Then a site was popular where you could anonymously ask questions, and I started flirting with her under a man’s name. Let's say my name was Steve back then (of course not that, but still). I had a prototype of a guy with whom I was thinking of setting her up, he was a childhood friend of my older brother. Oh yes, my friend is 3 years older than me, so he was perfect for her age. It all started with one question and developed into the fact that she already wanted to communicate on social networks and not anonymously. And I decided to create a page on a social network. Name: Steven, but I didn’t put up a photo then, if I’m not mistaken, and started communicating with her, from a fake. I liked getting to know her, but I didn't like lying. At some point I went into a wild frenzy. By the way, I almost immediately told her that Stephen and I had known each other almost since birth. So we talked for a month... two months... And I really got sick, I had a sore throat and a constant fever, my mother tried to treat me with something, but it couldn’t be cured, every day I could open my mouth less and less, but I did not leave church service and with a temperature of 38-39 I went almost every day and worked at the mixing console to conduct all the events. Then my relatives (on my mother’s side) decided to treat me with wine therapy. This is when you take the wine that my grandfather makes and gargle with it - it didn’t help. They forced me to do the same thing with cola - it didn’t help. Later I started gargling with hydrogen peroxide, it was painful, but I was taught that if it hurts, then it’s good - the germs are killed. In the end, because of her, I stopped feeling the taste of food and went to the emergency room. There the doctor told me that I needed to do an autopsy, but I only knew post-mortem autopsies and fell into hysterics. They reassured me that pus had accumulated in my throat and they would open it. So I was admitted to the hospital. This was not the first time. By that time, I was already a regular client of the hospital. Every six months for 2-3 months I lay there due to strange fainting spells. But we're talking about something else. I was lonely and wrote to a friend on behalf of Stephen, encouraging her to visit me. She couldn’t, although she studied 10 minutes from the hospital and sent her classmate to me. Maria. She seemed like a deity to me. I don’t know how to describe my emotions, but... After her first visit, I felt that this was my person and that I wanted her to be in my life. We met her on the stairs in the hospital and talked there for probably 2 hours. She brought me food from McDonald's, the taste of which I could not taste, but at the same time it seemed to me that I somehow began to feel life differently when I communicated with her. After 3 hours of her visit, a nurse found us and said that it was time for us to leave before we were found. Yes, it was illegal to visit for so long. Realizing this, I asked if she had anything to read, and after rummaging in her purse, she found criminal law. I was incredibly happy, even though I wasn’t interested in legal stuff. I took her out the back door and wrote to her on Stephen's behalf. Idiot. It hurt me that I couldn’t hit on her, because this doesn’t happen for a girl to be with a girl. And then I thought about one day having sex reassignment surgery so that I could approach her and it would be right. I was sad about becoming a guy, but she was worth it. In the meantime, I'm a girl, I can only correspond as Steven.

[doriananonsblog]

Hahahaha nothing like a major surgery to validate that no, you really aren't making up your chronic pain, and you also aren't just a little bitch about everything (so maybe that's why you THINK you have The Ailments) — in fact, it is completely the opposite. Logically, I do know that, but still sometimes I'm like I dunno, maybe I AM just a little bitch haha.

Last autumn, last major surgery, I was like, I don't know, maybe they were just wrong, or maybe it's (somehow) just really easy for me and I got off easy and they just did a really smooth job (because surgery works that way? I know I'm full of shite, but, anything to rationalise it away). But two times...there's nothing to say to this. It's just not bad. They've prescribed me oxycodone, and not only do I have zero use for that, I don't even see the point in taking the acetaminophen they prescribed. I'm not even trying to do a weird flex, I'm just...I dunno. Vaguely puzzled. Is this really supposed to be that bad? Put me out of commision for weeks? I'm not supposed to be able to move certain parts of my body, so I need to remember to stop, because I don't want to potentially aggravate things and impair my healing, but like. I'm fine.

Honestly my head hurts worse than my surgery site right now, because my migraine has ramped up. It just feels like muscle soreness to me, like when you exercise after not doing that for too long, and then your muscles ache and are all sore the next day, but it's not really a big deal. IDK, I used to be a runner, so I dealt with achey muscles a lot, and carrying on business as usual with them, so I don't know why this would stop me.

I woke up from surgery like 6hrs ago, and now i'm still just kind of sitting here waiting for the other shoe to drop, like it should magically start being like they said it would at some point, but from my experience with the last surgery, and now this one feeling incredibly similar...it won't. I guess we'll see, though. Wish my migraine meds would hurry up and work though haha (but who knows if they'll ever work at all. They only do about half the time, and unfortunately, that's the best acute med I've found. Tried upwards of...twenty 😩).

[hotch-stufff]

Surprise, Surprise

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x F!reader

Warnings!: there are no warnings, im not telling you a single thing. It's a surprise. Just read and find out ;)

Also, as much as I love him, Jack does not exist in this story, wasn't really sure how to write him in.

Author's Note: I'm so sorry that I haven't written in a while, I have had no inspiration and my bf dumped me so... ya'know that was nice. Anyways, finally getting some inspo, hopefully I will be writing more. Hope you guys enjoy this one :) Also, the mood board is mine, but the images are all from pintrest.

Word count: 1.4 k words

This is an emotional roller coaster

------------

You couldn't breathe.

You couldn't move, or speak.

Your knees gave out as you fell to the floor, sobs racking your body.

You felt arms wrap around you, but it didn't help. You were suffocating. He was your air, and he had just been ripped from your lungs. 

He was gone, dead.

Your husband.

The love of your life.

Aaron Hotchner was dead

* * *

You don't remember anything after the doctor uttered those words. You don't remember Rossi picking you up and holding you. You don't remember the sad glances, the tears shed by your teammates. You don't remember the car ride to your now empty shared apartment. You don't remember lying down and sobbing into the pillow for hours.

No, you only remember the pain. The unbearable pain of loss.

He was gone. Really gone.

You cried and cried for hours on end. Until you had no tears left to shed. 

Then you just lied there, staring at the wall, gripping his favorite shirt in your arms, remembering every little moment with him.

And it hurt like hell just thinking of everything you did with him. The day you met. Your first kiss, your first date. The day he proposed. Your wedding. Every little thing. 

And you wouldn't be able to do anything else. You wouldn't have kids with him. You guys had just talked about having a baby just the other day. He wanted one so bad. 

You shouldn't have waited.

Because now, now he was gone.

* * *

The next few days were a blur. You found yourself with home-cooked meals overflowing your fridge. A team member at your house every night. But it was all a blur.

All meaningless without Aaron.

The funeral was coming up. You didn't make any arrangements, you asked Rossi if he could handle it and he quickly agreed. 

He had taken care of finding the casket, picking a place, and finding a burial site. Everything. 

The only thing you had asked for was a closed casket.

You couldn't handle looking at him.

* * *

On the day of the funeral, the girls all came over to help you get ready. 

"Alright y/n, do you have a dress?" Penny asked as she walked out of kitchen.

"In the closet." You croaked. Your voice being hoarse from the crying and lack of speaking for the past two weeks.

"Okay I'll grab that, and shoes. Jj is going to make you breakfast and Em is going to do your hair okay?" You gave her a sad smile and a small okay.

Penny quickly walked back your hallway as Em began pulling your hair back in a low ponytail. You felt the tears begin slipping down your face once again.

Jj saw as she walked back in the room with a bagel and coffee.

"Oh sweetheart." And the dam broke. They comforted you the best they could. But they couldn't even imagine what you were going through, because he was gone.

* * *

The funeral was a blur. It seemed like everything was these days. 

It was a beautiful service. You don't remember much. Lots of hugs and 'sorry for your loss's.

It had gone quickly, and soon you found yourself in Rossi's living room. Everyone but the team had left, you sat alone. The rest were in the kitchen cleaning up.

You didn't move from your spot, sipping your wine.

Everyone walked in, and found spots around you.

It was silent. Not a single word was spoken.

"I'm taking a leave of absence." You spoke.

6 pairs of eyes shot to you, but they couldn't say they were surprised.

"It's just too much. I'm not ready to come back." Your voice was quiet. Rossi was the first to say anything.

"Take all the time you need." 

* * *

And you did. You spent about 3 months in that apartment, alone and sad and heartbroken. 

But you realized that Aaron would never want you to live like this. And you really needed to be able to pay the bills.

So after those 3 months, you gave Rossi a call. He had become until chief since you had left, and he instantly accepted you back to the team.

You were slowly getting better. 

Each passing case a distraction. 

Each one fixing you just a bit more. 

Each one giving your life a purpose, a meaning again.

And you felt better. You stopped crying yourself to sleep. You stopped sitting in silence for hours on end. You stopped crying every time you thought about him.

But you still visited him every week. You still thought about him everyday. You still wore your wedding rings, refusing to take them off.

But you were better. 

* * *

A few more months went by and you started going out with the team again. You spent more time with them. Almost every weekend. And you were somewhat okay.

And it wasn't until about 8 months after his death did your world come to another crashing halt.

You had been called in to the BAU, not entirely sure why, but you came in none the less. 

You figured it was a case, but Jj hadn't specified on the phone, which was strange.

You had walked up to the conference room, and were surprised to see the whole team sitting there ready to go. 

"Hey guys, do we have a case?" You asked, but Jj sent you a sad look causing you to grow worried.

"Y/n, you should sit down for this." You had no idea what was going on. What on earth was happening. "Peter Raymond recently resurfaced, and was taken into custody this morning about an hour ago. He resisted arrest and pulled a gun on an officer. He was shot and killed." Your heart hammered in your chest. He was gone. The bastard who killed your husband was gone. Rossi stood walking towards Jj.

A pit grew in your stomach, there was more, something you didn't know.

"8 months ago I made a decision that greatly affected this team. Aaron Hotchner received substantial injuries from the wounds he endured, but his surgery was a success and he was airlifted to an unknown location. His identity was changed in order to keep him safe. But he is alive." 

You couldn't believe your ears. He was alive. Alive? 

Your eyes shot to the door and there he stood. 

Aaron Hotchner. 

You couldn't breathe. 

You couldn't move or speak. 

He was alive, you should be ecstatic.

But you only felt anger.

Your eyes shot to Rossi.

"How dare you." You whispered out, surprising the team. You weren't an angry person, you never yelled at your teammates. But you, you were seething. "How could you do that. You knew he was alive and yet you let me suffer. You watched as I cried day and night. You watched as I let myself go, as I lost myself." You shook your head in anger.

Aaron stepped forward reaching out for you, but you shook your head.

"Dont touch me. Don't fucking touch me." You felt the tears fall down your face. Again. "You left me. You're dead. You're gone. Y-you left." You were shaking and crying and once again Aaron reached out for you, but this time you let him.

He brought you into a crushing hug, holding you like you had begged to be held for months. 

He was here, really here. You could smell and feel and see him. He was really here.

"Y-you bastard. You left me." You whispered desperately as you cried into his shirt. 

The team was quick to disperse. They too were mad at Rossi, and they wanted to reunite with Hotch. But they left you be, at least for now.

Aaron pulled back slightly, looking down at you.

"Sweetheart I'm so sorry. I wish I didn't have to. But he would have killed you and then he would have killed me." He had tears running down his face as well now. But you were so angry at him.

You pushed him away.

"I could have gone with you Aaron. You could have gone into witsec. You didn't need to fake your fucking death Aaron!" You yelled at him. you couldn't even believe you were eating this conversation.

"Y/n please, I'm so sorry." You were mad yeah, but you were so overwhelmingly relieved that it overpowered your anger. "I missed you sweetheart." He whispered out and you broke just a little bit more.

"You bastard. Y-you stupid man." You pulled him back to you and slammed your lips together. "You stupid, stupid man." You gasped out between kisses. 

"I know, I'm so sorry. I love you." He stated after you pulled away.

"I-I love you too." You were sobbing at this point.. "Don't ever do that to me again." He nodded, leaning in to kiss you again.

And you kissed your husband.

Because he wasn't gone. 

He was right here.

And god did it feel amazing to have him back

------------

Thanks for reading! Requests are still open, so ask away! Currently I'm only taking requests from my prompt list, which is right here! School is starting up soon though, so i may not be writing very often, but i will definitely try! Anyways, if you would like to read more of my work, here is my masterlist.

[mystic-sky]

One shot wherein the s/o of Gojo Satoru gets injured trying to protect him and brought to the hospital but doesnt die. With a mountain of angst pls. 🥺👉🏽👈🏽

Word Count: 1.6k

16-year old Satoru had never known much about compassion, or any crucial emotions that would’ve paved the way for him to be a brilliant jujutsu sorcerer, through and through.  He lived life as he went, nonchalant and never dispatching empathy in the moments it mattered most. You appeared like wildfire, ringing out so many emotions from him all at once. You were placed on his team without warning, and he felt like you were just another nuisance for him to have to pretend to worry about. You were undeniably cute though, which was the only reason he ever made conversation with you from time to time. But even though he flirted with you, he was always sure to remind you that he was always better, stronger and more talented. 

One day, to his surprise, you gave him a piece of your mind when he tried to pursue you. You told him to learn some manners, some compassion, and to come back when he wasn’t an asshole. You expressed that he was arrogant, and all but so many people would tolerate him the way some teachers and his so called “team mates” did.

“No ones going to fall in love with you for real if you keep being a jerk.”

That was when he first learned of rejection. He was so used to having everything he wanted. It didn’t register in his brain the first time that you didn’t like him. He picked on you more because of it, unfortunately. You were thick skulled, and headstrong. You were charming for someone who started out so weak. He watched as you worked hard, and never asked for help from him or Suguru, or Shoko unless it was for the sake of the mission at hand. You were extremely talented. Just a late bloomer.

He asked you why you became a sorcerer one day, much to your surprise. You explained it to him and from that day on, he wasn't so much of an asshole towards you. He’d learned of admiration, but considering he was so cocky, he never did tell you that. Instead, he went from saying things like “Leave this to us” to “I’ll leave this to you.”

Maybe you do or don’t realize that he finally acknowledges you as strong, but you do know talking to him was 40% more bearable when you reached your third year of high school.

That same year, you lose someone who was close to you. You had no control over it. The way it happened, the result was inevitable. It had nothing to do with weakness or being in the wrong place at the wrong time. There are some outcomes in life that are meant to happen- and no one is ready for it. All he knows is that he didn’t like how it made you feel. He couldn’t give you a rebuttal on how it was possibly yours or someone else’s shortcomings that fated such a thing to happen. Instead, you both sat on the steps of the school long past curfew, sharing ice cream while he watched you cry. Neither of you spoke. For the first time in his life, he had nothing to say. He also knew he shouldn’t leave you there. He hoped his silence and presence would convey something, along with the free ice cream. This was the night Satoru learned sympathy.

He never wanted you to feel that way ever again. He became a bubbly force, always in your face. He smothered you with activities, sweets, things that became memories to deter you from your loss, and somehow amongst it all, you forgot that you hated him.

Some years had gone by. You'd become a fine jujutsu sorcerer, with the help of Satoru and so many others. You’d acknowledged him as a friend and possibly something more due his flirtatious personality. He had became someone who filled the void of the person you lost, showing you that life does in fact go on.

“It took you way too long to kill that thing,” he rolled his eyes. “Aren’t you a special grade jujutsu sorcerer? Get it together (Name).” 

He playfully scolded you. “You literally stood there and watched me do all the work.” Your clothes were stained of blood, but you weren’t bothered entirely. You were looking for something to wipe your hands with, shaking them violently at the ground.

“What can I say, you’re truly a site to behold.” He winked, dwindling a handkerchief in front of you. The flutter in your chest was erratic. 

“Nonetheless, I knew you could do it. I was just here for moral support.” He grinned, patting you on the head.

“Satoru,” You say, turning towards him and sheathing your weapon. “You’re really important to me. You’ve had my back since we went to Jujutsu Tech and then some. I don’t think I’ve ever said thank you for always being there for me.”

“So, thank you.” You say, offering him the warmest smile and making his heart skip a beat. He hadn’t known what to say. You hadn't ever put him on the spot like this before, which is what it made it so easy for him to be around you. You never praised him for anything, yet here you were thanking him, smiling at him like you loved him or something-

Did you? He wondered. He didn’t undertsand what it was he felt when he started to ponder the idea of you loving him. You never once complimented him on his looks, nor had you ever reciprocated his flirtations. And here he was, actively being your friend because he admired your character. He didn’t even know himself anymore.

“Stop staring at me like that and say you’re welcome.” You sass, breaking him out of his thoughts. “You’re freaking me out.”

“We’re friends. You don’t have to thank me for that.” He said cockily, getting right back in character. That night, he realized what it meant to love someone.

He got home and laid in bed, trying to draw the line in his head between how he loved you and how he loved kikufuku. Then he tried depicting the differences between his bromance with Geto Suguru and his friendship with you. He knew he liked being around you, and whatever goals in life he would eventually pursue- he wanted you to be there too.

You never once made it obvious that you liked him back in any sort of way, and it ticked him off. He would spend some days doing everything in his power to get a reaction out of you, even a kabedon, to which you burst out laughing in response. Satoru had never actually experienced true defeat until that moment. You had became one of the most precious things in the world to him, but he thought you were so dense and oblivious it pained him. He wanted to give up on pursuing you, but no one else in his entire life had ever made him feel anything. All these emotions he discovered were extensions and results of you allowing him to integrate himself into your life during your darkest moment. You had thanked him for being there; he wanted you to say so much more.

So when you leapt in front of him, coughing up blood in his direction and shielding his body, there wasn't a reason he could summon for it. What made him feel sick to his stomach is how you managed to smile whilst being impaled by the horns of the curse behind you. The rough taste of iron plagued your tongue and blood plopped from your lips and down your chin.

He caught your body with one arm, cradling you, before using his free hand to clutch the creature’s skull. He smashed it instantly, blood spattering all around your bodies. 

“Why did you do that?” He found himself panicking. He knelt down, stripping himself of his shirt and attempting to suppress the bleeding. “You’re not weak and you’re not stupid- why?!”

“Because, Satoru, I love you.” You say through��blurry eyes. He’s petrified. Satoru Gojo did not know loss or grief. He was sure to feel it if you died right there in his arms. He already killed the curse that fatally attacked you. If you died, what would his purpose beyond that be? The only thing he hadn’t done yet was tell you he loved you. He knew in that moment that he loved you. But before the words could fall from his lips, your body went limp in his lap.

“No...” He took hold of you, immediately teleporting to the nearest hospital. If you died, he would blame it on his own incompetence. He’d flaw himself for this moment alone and take responsibility. He found himself praying to whatever God there might be, begging them to spare your short lived life. Not without him saying it back.

After multiple surgeries and blood transfusions, the doctors had informed him you were going to live, but recovery would take some time. Your cursed ability was able to delay the blood loss and neutralize a bit of the damage just before it became entirely fatal. He was thankful, the most he’s ever been for anything.

“I told you, you’re not weak,” he stared down at your comatose body. “You may make stupid decisions. But you’re not helpless.”

His voice cracked a bit whilst saying this, as he knelt beside you. He would stay with you endlessly through your recovery no matter how long it took. Nothing else mattered.

He was going to tell you that he loves you too.

[marsbutterfly]

Hiiiii! I just binged all your writing on AO3 and I love all your work, especially the one with poor Hange hallucinating. I'm not sure if requests are open right now but if they are, I'd love to make one! I'm sorry for being hyper-specific but I just had my wisdom teeth removed, they had to hammer and drill to get one of them out that grew wrong and, I'll spare you the details but it took over an hour for the one and I'm sore and swollen to say the least and not looking forward to having to eventually eat something, and I wonder how Hange would take care of a reader that just had their wisdom teeth removed.

Please feel free to ignore this if you're not interested, and regardless thank you for your time and sorry for the wall of text! Hope you have a great day!

Note: Thank you so much anon, I appreciate your support <3 It makes me really happy! I hope you are all right now and that your mouth healed up ok. This is a mixture of a short fic and headcanons. I hope you enjoy! <3

Tooth Ache

Summary: When you get your wisdom teeth removed, Hanji tries her best to take care of you. Modern AU!

Warning: Mentions of blood.

AO3 Version! | Wattpad Version!

“Come on, baby.” Hanji says as her torso reaches over you, struggling to fasten the seatbelt. You shift your body to the left gently, trying your best to help her but the effects of the laughing gas having yet to leave your body.

All you can do is giggle, watching the messy brown hair dangling in front of you. Without realizing what’s happening, a heavy weight is lifted from your body and your lungs can expand to their full capacity once again.

You look around confused, trying to understand what just happened, only to shift your eyes to the left, watching as Hanji starts the car. The sound of the engine roaring makes your heart beat slightly faster, a hint of fear rushing through your veins.

Before any words form, a warm, gentle hand brushes against your exposed thigh softly and the feeling is enough to soothe you. 

Body resting against the car seat, you take your fingers towards your mouth, touching the area around it as you try to make sure everything is still there. The piece of gauze that sat in your mouth now lies in between your legs, a few blood splatters following closely behind.

“Hanji, did you give me cranberry juice?” You ask, not realizing what that hot liquid was. She holds in a laugh, eyes shifting from the road to you for a second as she reaches for a small pill bottle sitting in the cup holder.

“Not yet.” She replies, handing you a decently sized pill and a small, cold box of juice. “But here, why don’t you drink this?”

You grunt in annoyance but still obliged to her request, earning a bright smile in return. 

The car falls silent, only the sounds produced by the vehicle fill the void. Your eyes wander outside, green leaves dance atop of the trees while an old lady’s blonde hair flows around in the wind, reminding you of last night’s dinner.

“Can I have some noodles when we get home?” You ask with stars in your eyes, knowing that Hanji has never once denied you anything at all.

“No, love. I’m sorry.” She replies, eyes focused on the road as you enter your neighborhood. In that moment, her words felt like a knife going into your skin, destroying your heart as a consequence. 

“But…” Tears form in your eyes and your bottom lip quiver.

“It’s for your own good.” She says, right hand squeezing your thigh before you push it away and all she does in response is sigh. 

Grabbing your phone from the glove compartment, you speed dial your most recent caller. A few seconds pass before Eren answers the phone and the image that welcomes him is the desolated, groggy mess behind the screen. Tears flow down your face as you try to speak through the gauze pads in your mouth.

“Hanji won’t let me eat noodles.” You say, earning a quiet giggle out of the brunette driving the car. “All I want is to eat my noodles.”

“It’s for your own good, Y/N!” He replies, a smile on his face as he tries not to laugh. From his end, you can hear two other voices but, in your current state, you don’t realize they are coming from Mikasa and Armin.

“That's what I said.” Hanji replies, reaching for your phone. “Now hang up Y/N.”

“NO!” You scream, pressing your body against the door and moving the device barely out of her reach. “I want to show Eren my lipstick.”

“Lipstick?” The camera shifts angles and now Armin’s face fills the screen. “Uhmm… Y/N?” 

You pull your head back, fingertips gently brushing against your chapped lips until the warm liquid touches them. In response, you let out a giggle. “Oh no. I think it’s blood.”

Hanji’s laugh echoes through the car as she pulls into the driveway. Once the vehicle comes to a full stop, she places her left arm against the window, fingers pushing her glasses up as tears of laughter stream down her face. 

You shoot her a confused look, trying to understand why she’s laughing. In response, she reaches for your phone once again, finally being able to catch the device from your hands and immediately hanging up the call.

“Come on, baby.” She says, removing her seatbelt and unbuckling yours. 

You reach for the handle to open the door many times but your hand simply slips right past it. After what seemed like an entirety, you’re able to hook your hand on it and open it, little do you know Hanji is actually the one to let you out.

Your vision is fuzzy as you try to step out of the car, everything spins around and you look at the sky. A pair of sturdy hands begins to guide you towards the entrance to the house and you smile gratefully.

Hanji seats you on the couch before handing you a cold compress. You stare at it for a few seconds, wondering what it is that she expects you to do with it. 

She laughs and sits beside you, your knee touching hers. “Like this.”

The cold compress against your cheek feels godly and it relieves some of the pain you are in. You instinctively let out a moan.

“I’m gonna go get your meds and be right back, ok?” She says while getting up.

“Otay.” You reply, humming to a random song you heard on the radio early that day. Unknowing to you, Hanji’s eyes glow as they watch you from behind the couch, her heart beating slightly faster as her cheeks blush.

A few minutes go by and when she returns, you are still moving your head and feet to the melody you sing. 

She hands you a cup of cold water and you happily take the pills from her hand. 

Your eyelids become heavy and you rest your head on her shoulder, feeling as her hand goes through your hair gently. You smile through the bloody gauze pads and she giggles.

“Hanji…” You whisper, calling her close to you with your finger and she leans towards you, “I want noodles.”

“Not this again!”

Headcanons 

Hanji is not a good driver so it takes her a couple of days to convince you to let her drive you to the appointment instead of asking Armin or Mikasa to do it.

She nearly sleeps for too long the day of your procedure because she spent the night before worried sick, even if you’re just getting your wisdom teeth out.

Once it’s done, she has to control herself and not give in to your every request like she usually does. No solid food, no milkshakes, no moving more than you have to.

Hanji sets alarms for every 8 hours so you won’t miss a single dose of your pain medicine and, if the pain is too bad, she gives you an extra pill. Not only that, she constantly reminds you of when to change the gauze pads.

You always have fresh ice to apply to your cheeks and Hanji kisses them every chance she gets.

She can’t cook for shit, she tries but when the house ends up smelling like burned soup, she immediately calls Levi, who shows up with at least 3 days worth of food. For you and for Hanji.

When the anesthesia wears off, she pulls up her phone and shows you the embarrassing videos she took while you were high. Of you singing terribly to whatever is playing on the radio, your conspiracy theories on how your dentist was an alien or simply videos of you begging her to give you solid food.

She brushes your teeth for you when you can’t, always making sure to go around the extraction sites and scrubbing your tongue.

The day after the surgery, she rinses your mouth out with warm water and salt, even if you can do it yourself she keeps saying she’ll do it better than you, so you simply let her.

Hanji always makes sure your head is propped up while you’re lying down, even when you beg her to let you put your head down, she won’t let you. Instead, she sits behind you and props your head on her chest. You can hear her heartbeat so you can’t complain.

Once you are healed, she buys you an insane amount of junk food and you suggest going on a picnic with Levi and Erwin to eat it all. She agrees and immediately picks up the phone as you run upstairs to take some medicine so you won’t throw it all up.

[chilligyu]

info: wen junhui/reader, teen+, soulmate au genre: angst, romance | word ct: 2k warnings: descriptions of injuries, scars, blood, hospitals summary: forever was a powerful word, and it was the only word he could think of when he imagined his soulmate. someone who was just as powerful as she was terrifying. because forever was a powerful word, and it scared him to no end. author's note: please read! this soulmate au deals with soulmarks in the form of injuries. once someone turns 18 their body will be marked with their soulmates scars and they will acquire all of their future injuries (i know it's a little confusing, story explains it better). if talks of scars and blood make you uncomfortable, respectfully, this fic will not be your cup of tea. thank you all!

Forever. Never, in all of Junhui’s life, had he heard a more terrifying word. He hated the permanency of it, the idea of being stuck doing one thing, being with one person. The thought of it alone made his skin itch. He loved being able to get on a train and go absolutely anywhere, loved never being tied down, loved being free. Sometimes he didn’t even know where home was, where he’d be sleeping, and that’s when he was most happy. He couldn’t explain it, nor did he want to.

What scared him most, was what he was destined for, what forever truly meant for him. For years he was told how his life would change, how it would never be the same once he became an adult. And he believed them. No matter how much he hated it, he’d have to be delusional not to. Because he’d been watching it play out on his skin since he turned 18. He’d been watching his body pucker with scars, little nicks here and there, for the better part of four years. A thin line across the back of his hand, a surgical scar on his stomach, it was so nerve-wracking. Because he hadn’t been injured.

His soulmate had, and he was a first-hand witness.

That was the sad existence he was left with, the one he’d been running from for years. He lived in a world where everyone was covered in the injuries and scars of their soulmate. Your body wasn’t a canvas of your own life, it was the story of someone else’s. And God Junhui hated that more than anything. That his life wasn’t his own anymore and there was nothing he could do about it.

It all became real for him when he came home from school on his 18th birthday. He shouldered off his bag and was getting ready to shower when he saw the bright pink mark on his stomach. A little thing, only two inches in length, half an inch wide, almost completely negligible. At first, he was confused, then scared, and finally—mortified.

No. He said to himself as he inspected the scar. Please tell me this is a lie.

For years he stared at his own body, repulsed and confused by the injuries that kept cropping up. His friends would laugh at the little marks, claiming that his soulmate was a complete klutz. Still, he refused to acknowledge it. He didn’t care what sort of scar showed up on his body, he refused to care. He refused to think about the one person who was tied to his entire existence. No matter what they were going through. He didn’t care when the eight inch gash appeared on his arm, nor did he care when he saw the surgical scar sprawled across his knee. It was just skin, scar tissue and skin. It didn’t mean anything.

Or that’s what he tried to convince himself.

Sometimes, if the injury was bad enough, he would even feel the pain from it. One day he was walking to work, and suddenly he was struck by an intense migraine. The throbbing alone was enough to make him want to puke. The world was spinning, he could barely feel the ground underneath his feet when he caught his reflection in a store window. His eyebrow had split open, a single trickle of blood streaking his face.

What happened? He found himself wondering despite himself. Are they—are they okay?

Before that moment, he had never actually bled from one of his soulmate’s wounds. And it terrified him. He had only seen the injuries once they’d healed, meaning that the danger, and pain, was over. That little bead of blood meant—meant that this was real. That on the other side of his scars was a real person. He hated forever, he hated the word, hated the meaning, hated what he was forced to endure because fate had better plans for him.

But still, he couldn’t help but wonder. And that was harmless, right?

Going to the doctor after that was interesting, because he had to get a full body X-Ray to see what sort of damage his new body had endured. Standard protocol when you turned 18, he’d just been putting it off for as long as he could. Injuries from his soulmate's childhood were clear against the backlight, several broken bones from when they were young, or reckless, or both. Without realizing it, Junhui found himself smiling at the sight. It was sort of comforting, knowing that he’ll always have this part of someone else. That it’ll never leave him.

He gingerly touched each wound and tried to imagine the story behind them. There was this one right up his shin, very old, very faded, it reminded him of the one time he fell off his bike as a kid. Maybe he had something in common with his soulmate. Maybe they had a similar past. He had no idea, but it was fun to wonder.

For periods of time, Junhui wouldn’t accumulate any new marks, and he felt lonely. He pretended like he didn’t, he continued on as he usually did. A string of flings and drunken escapades kept him busy, but they just—they weren’t as fun anymore. Car rides with no destination, late nights underneath the stars, the things he loved most no longer held the same weight. He felt stupid, selfish, wishing for some sign of his soulmate. Because that meant that they’d have to get hurt for it to happen.

And then, he thought he lost them.

He was getting set up for a gig, plugging in his mic and laughing with the stagehands, when he felt his life flash before his eyes. Like he’d been crushed by a car. The pain was so excruciating, he was finding it hard to breathe. Collapsing to the floor, he could’ve sworn that he saw a bright light above him. Tears streaked his face, his stomach churned like the red sea—he thought he was dying. He had no idea what was going on, until—until he realized that he was fine. That his soulmate—that his soulmate might’ve—

Pulling up his shirt, he watched a deep gash form on his stomach and a deep bruise color his whole abdomen. Propping himself up onto his elbows, he instantly fell back to the ground. Looking at his arm, he noticed the swelling. He was being covered in bruises, several of his bones were broken, and he only had one thought on his mind.

I have to find them.

He managed to get to his feet, finding his right leg weaker than he remembered, and he practically sprinted out of the bar. Pulling out his phone, he started searching every news site he could think of, looking for any news of any sort of car crash. Of any sort of accident.

Every few minutes or so, he’d check to make sure that his scars were still there. That his soulmate hadn’t left him. Because that’s what everyone truly fears, and the one thing Junhui has grown to fear more than forever. When you slowly see your soulmate's scars clear up, when your skin is your own once more, it means one of two things.

Either you’ve found your soulmate, or your soulmate is dead.

Please stay alive. He found himself begging, finally catching word of a couple car accidents in the past day. He scrolled through them, scrolled through the pictures of victims, desperately trying to find them. Dozens of faces blurred past his vision, and he finally stopped at a picture of a young woman. A woman with a small scar on her chin, just like the cut Junhui got when he was a kid and banged his chin on a coffee table.

After years of denying her existence, he had finally found his soulmate. For a brief moment, he was caught in some sort of trance, completely awestruck by the person who was a permanent part of his life. She was beautiful, perfect, everything he had ever dreamed of and feared all at once. It broke his heart, knowing that it took her getting hit by a car for him to find her.

When he figured out which hospital she was taken to, he hailed a cab and paid him extra to get him there as fast as he could. As he rode, he read the article more thoroughly, reading about how she was hit by a drunk driver, how she was in critical condition, and how she was in a medically induced coma. He had to fight back tears, knowing that she might not make it.

Arriving at the hospital, he showed the front desk her picture, desperate to find her any way that he could. They confirmed that she was there, that she had just got out of surgery. They kept telling him that only family could see her, that he’d have to wait until she was out of the ICU, and a million other things that he didn’t give a damn about. He had to see her.

“She’s my soulmate.” He whispered, trying not to lose it. “Please, please, let me see her.”

Even though the nurses were conflicted, they eventually let him in. Thanking them quickly, he sprinted down the hall to her room, tears stinging the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t lose her. Not before she was even a part of his life. Not before he could even tell her how important she was to him. He hadn’t even met her yet, and yet if she died – then his life would be over.

He slowed down as he got closer, his heart beating in his ears. She was just a few doors down, she was so close, he could feel it deep down inside. As he stood outside her door, he tried to calm himself down, he inhaled and exhaled, attempting to stabilize the raging storm inside of him.

Mentally preparing for the worst he reached for the door handle, his entire arm shaking. He was fully aware that she wouldn’t even realize he was there, that she’d be lying catatonic in a hospital bed with tubes and wires hooked up to her. He didn’t care. It was still an important moment in his life. He was about to meet his soulmate for the first time.

Turning the handle, he felt his heart stop when he saw her. Even though the actual sight of her broke his heart, something he couldn’t explain started to stir inside of him. Like—like his entire existence led him to this point. And while that thought alone would’ve terrified him not too long ago, it now gave him a purpose to strive towards. He wouldn’t run from this.

He approached her carefully, pulling up a chair and sitting beside her. As he sat there, he watched as the little scars across his knuckles started to disappear, and saw them reappear on her. Unconsciously, he started to check on every single scar on his body, finding himself frowning as they vanished from his skin. He would’ve preferred to bare them, knowing that they wouldn’t mar her beautiful body. And he’d miss the proof that she was meant to be with him. Fate determined that they were meant to be together, and for the first time—he accepted that. Because he finally learned that alone was a far more terrifying word than forever.

“I don’t care how long it takes.” He whispered, taking her hand in his. “I’m not going anywhere.”

[bcdrawsandwrites]

Fandom: Psychonauts

Rating: T

Genre: Angst

Characters: Caligosto Loboto, Loboto’s parents

Warnings: Surgery, lobotomy, hallucinations, child abuse, EVERYTHING IS HORRIBLE AND NOTHING IS OKAY WITH THIS (but there’s nothing graphic)

Description: Just be still, and you'll be fine.

Beta Readers: @jaywings​ and Rocket (who I’m not sure is on Tumblr?)

Notes: who let me write Psychonauts fanfic. also some of the phrases in this fic were taken from this site.

---~~~---

“Scattering sparks of thought energy

Deliver me and carry me away”

“Here in my kingdom, I am your lord

I order you to cower and præy”

- The Mind Electric, by Tally Hall

 ---

Sometimes it was nice to just lay down in the park and watch the clouds float overhead.

He often had a lot of energy, both normal and... well... unnatural, but sometimes it was nice to relax, especially when he didn't feel like himself. His energy was ebbing, and there was something… something...

"Can you tell us another?"

He glanced up. Several of his usual playmates were standing around him, their faces lit up in interest. He grinned a wide, toothy grin.

"The boy babbled blatantly but was blessed with a brilliant brain!"

"Good!"

The compliment made his brow furrow. Normally they might cheer "cool!" or "awesome!" but he shrugged—he'd take it. It gave him a warm feeling inside, unlike the frequent chill of his own home. Plus, he couldn’t help but light up as he watched the smiles on his friends’ faces—some of them were still losing baby teeth, he noted, and the progression was fascinating. He knew what he could do to see more of those grins, too...

Without raising his head too much—it hurt a little, and he could see well enough from where he was—he glanced around to make sure his mother wasn't too close by. Luckily she was way off in the pavilion, talking to several other adults. Good; she wouldn't see, and neither would the other prying parents.

"How about this?" he asked, and with a tiny bit of concentration lifted a few rocks off the ground, spinning them in circles. Instead of cheering, however, the children backed away, their smiles fading.

"Look, he's trying to—!" one girl whispered frantically.

"Don't worry, he's fine for now."

He frowned, dropping the rocks. "O-oh, I'm sorry! I didn't think they would see..."

"That's okay. Can you tell us another?"

"Disappointed dogs don't do dangerous deeds." Wincing, he closed his eyes—there was a breeze that seemed to pass over his head only, running through his hair.

His scalp felt cold.

---

"Go on, Caligosto. Show the doctor how you can pick it up."

"Like this...?"

"No, the other way."

"But... mother doesn't like it when I do it that way."

"Do as you're told, Caligosto."

"...Okay..."

The fish swam all about the pond, but came closer to the surface when they realized he was watching from his usual spot on the shore. As they nearned him, he settled over the grass, staring down at his scaly friends. The fish seemed to like his company, and they wouldn't snitch to his parents if he did anything they wouldn't like.

On top of that, he felt a connection with them, almost like the sort of connection he could feel with people. They couldn't talk, and they didn't have facial expressions… but he could almost read them somehow, more and more as he continued visiting. Now he could sense what foods they wanted, or when they were scared of a nearby predator. It was nice to help them out.

It was also interesting to see the different kinds of teeth the fish had—some had sharp fangs, some had tiny flat teeth, and some had teeth in weird places, like their tongue or throat!

"Can you hear us?"

He would have jumped, but that would have scared the fish. As it was, he leaned forward, his eyes wide beneath their glasses. "Yes! I can hear you!" He could hardly contain his excitement. "I'd always thought I could hear you before, but never this clear! Do you think—"

"Good! Can you tell us another?"

He blinked. "Another what?"

"Another phrase."

Oh, right. In his excitement he'd nearly forgotten that he'd occasionally show off for the fish as well, though he'd never been sure if they could understand. "Friendly fish flip-flop fast when facing fearsome foes!"

"Very good!"

Giggling, he settled himself back down on the soft grass. "I'm glad you think so... my parents always tell me to be quiet."

Apparently, the fish had nothing to say to this, for they remained quiet, swimming just under the surface and watching him. So he kept watching them too, observing the light that reflected off their scales. But one creature caught his eye: a small turtle swimming in place. It was odd to see to begin with, but the paddling of its little feet seemed strangely frantic, its front legs moving in big sweeping arcs. It didn't speak, but he swore he could hear it—

Away, away—

---

"Is that... all he's capable of?"

"I'm afraid not."

"D—Father, are we done? I don't like it here..."

"Only speak when spoken to, Caligosto."

"Can we see anything else?"

"Yes."

"I-I don't want to—"

"Caligosto."

"Okay, okay! Let me—"

---

The seas were calm, and he had worked hard today as a navigator (or was he first mate? he couldn't quite remember, but that was okay), keeping a close eye on the compass and making sure they were staying on course. They were nearing the shore, but for now, he was taking a break, resting against a coil of rope with his eyes closed, enjoying the smell of the ocean air and the feeling of sunshine.

And also trying to forget his headache—he was pretty sure he bumped his head coming down from the crow's nest.

"You're doin' good today, mate! Squawk!"

He opened one eye, noting the parrot sitting just behind him. "Thanks, Crackers!"

Birds hadn’t been something that interested him too much at first; what kind of silly animal didn’t have teeth? That is, until he’d learned that birds have a weird organ that acted as their teeth. Fascinating!

The parrot cocked her head at him. "Do you know any more?"

Oh right, of course the parrot enjoyed those phrases. "The pretty parrot perched upon the putrid pirate's peacoat!"

Crackers gave a pleased chirp, ruffling her feathers.

Wincing, he found his headache was starting to get worse, like a bad toothache, and closed his eyes again. "Do you think we'll reach shore soon?"

We won't if you don't get out.

He opened his eyes. Crackers was gone.

---

"STOP! STOP! MAKE IT STOP!"

"What are you doing?!"

"I-I just did what you asked—"

"I didn't tell you to—!"

"I'm sorry!"

"Put him out, hurry—"

"We've seen enough, doctor. We'll schedule an appointment for your son next week."

"N-next week?!"

"Very well. He'll be there promptly."

---

The kids’ expressions had changed from bright smiles to tightly-drawn lips and wide eyes, and it made him shudder. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No, it's fine. Tell us another."

"The store..." He paused, concentrating. Strange, he didn't usually have trouble remembering these things, but it must have just been his headache. "The store clerk stood and... stared at me in stupor."

"I would too after what I've seen," one kid muttered, only to be shushed by another.

His heart gave a pained jolt. "Wh-what?"

"Nothing!"

He didn't like the way they were talking—it reminded him of... something else. Someone else. Another child stepped closer to him, looking down at him with a furrowed brow and frightened eyes. He felt the sudden urge to scoot away.

You're in danger.

---

"Wh...where am I supposed to go?"

"Just in through these doors."

"Okay... Why do I have to come back here to the doctor, though? I feel fine."

"Nevermind that. Do you remember what your father told you to do?"

"Yeah! The fun phrases. I know a million of those!"

"Good."

"Would you like to hear... w-wait, who are all these people watching? Wh... what are those?"

---

The fish were swimming in circles and starting to make him dizzy. He rested his head down in the cool grass, but it did little to help. "Oh... sorry. I'm not feeling so good. I should be going home..."

"You can go home soon. Tell us another first."

"Ugh... My mom... m-my... mother makes a... marvelous... meat... mincemeat pie." Recalling these phrases was starting to feel like what he imagined pulling teeth felt like, but a lot less fun. Was his mother missing him now? How long had he been gone? "I... really need to go home now."

"No you don't."

His eyes shot open, and he shivered as he stared down at the fish. "Wh... what did you... say?"

"Don't try to move. You'll be all right."

All of the fish watched him eagerly... but the turtle was still waving its front feet even more frantically.

---

"Don't worry about that."

"N-no! I know what those tools are—I've read my dad's books. You're gonna hurt me!"

"Nonsense. Just lay on the bed and you'll be fine."

"No, I don't want to! You can't make me!"

---

The ship heaved up and down with the swell of the waves. His insides rolled with it, and he remained lying on the coil of rope, waiting for his stomach to stop lurching and his head to stop aching.

"You stopped. Keep going."

"Ugh... The newt... nuzzled in a... n-narrow... nook."

"Good."

"No, it's not, Crackers! I don't feel good..."

"You're fine, squawk! Try to distract yourself."

"Okay..." Opening one eye, he raised a shaky hand, lifting the end of the rope and making it snake through the air, though it shuddered all the while. It was a lot more difficult than usual... Normally he could lift several objects at once, and delighted the crew by juggling them. He felt like he should be able to do other things too, but what?

---

"Oh mercy! He's going to kill someone!"

"Caligosto, if you don't stop this at once, I will call your father!"

"So call him! I want him here! Why didn't he come with me?!"

"Oh no, he's trying to light the chair on fire—"

"Go get the earmuffs, now."

"MOM! DAD! WHERE ARE YOU?!"

"GET THEM NOW!"

---

The sun was covered in clouds, and the humid air brought a promise of rain. Why were the other kids still here? Surely their parents would have called them home by now. He wished they would. Surely his mom would have called him, too, wouldn't she?

"Tell us another," one girl asked urgently, taking a hesitant step forward.

His head was swimming. "I-I don't wanna..."

"Tell us now."

Focusing, he managed to force his mind to concentrate. "She sniffed... and s-smelled... the stirring storm."

"Good, tell us another," one fish bubbled from the water.

A sharp pain like a broken tooth filled his skull, his insides felt sick, and the rain was beginning to fall. "I... I can't..."

"Tell us, Caligosto."

"B... Bernie read a book... b-by the... ba—babbling brook." He wanted to wipe the rain from his face, but he felt too exhausted to move his arms. "C-can I go... home..."

"Squawk! We're not to shore yet. Give me another."

He stared up at the blurred vision of the bird. "Why...?"

"Do as you're told."

"Th-the... hummingbirds... hovered... a-and hummed in... heavenly..." His voice broke off into a choked sob. "I wanna... no... I wanna... go home..."

"Caligosto?"

---

"I WANT TO GO HOME!"

"Get it on him, get it on—"

"GET AWAY FROM ME!"

"Where did he go?!"

"The monster's turned invisible!"

"I WANNA GO HOME!"

"There! Put it on right—there!"

"STOP, I WANNA—"

---

"...go home!"

He blinked.

"You are home, Cali," his mother said, beaming down at him with a wide, pearly-white grin.

"I am?" Blinking again, he looked around. Indeed, he was in front of his house, with his parents both standing on the front porch, as they had been when he'd left. On top of that, his head didn't hurt and he didn't feel sick. "I... I am!"

"You're all done with the doctors now," his father said, smiling. "We're so proud of you!"

"You... you are?" He stared open-mouthed; his father had never told him that before. "I'm all done?"

"Yes you are, dear." His mother knelt down, but he didn't come closer—something was making his hair stand on end. "Almost."

His stomach twisted.

"Just tell us another, son."

"N... no..."

The smile on his father's face faded. "Do as you're told, Caligosto."

"N-no... no, no..." He tried to shake his head, but couldn't. "I... I want to go home..."

The pain was coming back, spiking through his head, and he cried out.

"We're going to lose him—"

"No, just a little more."

"No," he sobbed. "No, no! Mom! Dad!"

The park was flooding. The fish were swirling around his head. Waves crashed over the boat.

He had to do something. Anything.

Focusing with everything he had left, he tried to think, tried to move something, tried to make something burn, tried to call for help—

Did—did you hear that?

Cali?

The agony peaked, and his vision turned orange.

---

"Ooooh... ugh..."

"Is this safe?"

"It's safe for us. The psilirium will keep him under control during the procedure."

"But can he still hear us?"

"Son, can you tell us one of your funny phrases?"

"Sure... grass grows greener in the graveyard."

"You see? He'll be fine."

---

There was no park.

There was no pond.

There was no ocean.

There were several doctors staring down at him, a great many more people seated in the theater behind them, and an empty feeling within him.

Something was gone. Something important.

"How do you feel, Caligosto?"

His brain was slow to work, and he could not form the words, but if he could have, he would have answered:

Like... a cavity.

[hiswhiteknight]

Unbelievably Outlandish– Part 10

Summary:  Before starting down a new crossroads, the Reader goes onto an adventure of literary traveling. Suddenly tossed into an unbelievable story that has swept the world, The Outlander Series itself. How will a twenty first century woman survive?

Note: I own no characters, except reader, clearly this is based off the lovely book series Outlander by Diana Gabaldon and tv show. This follows more the tv show, but it’s far from accurate. I’m going to try to get better with using less proper English, but who knows maybe I’ll get into Scottish slang.

Pairing: Jamie Fraser x Female Reader 

Words: 1400

Warning: Angst, playfulness, cursing, slow start, obvious fighting and violence, mention of suicide

*I’ll be honest, this chapter is more of a fuller, substance chapter. If you wanted to be added to the tag list, please send me a message or chat. Thank you for everyone’s patience!

The hunt still left you plenty in your thoughts. It should be on helping in whatever way you can, but you kept thinking on your role here and how you clearly will never belong, no matter how to try to be kind and open to the culture, no matter how much you push away your own values and morals for these people. It will never matter. Rupert yelled your name, catching your attention. A man got hurt and you help mend what you can before instructing Rupert to bring him back to the village. Another scream, a different type of scream caused you to be pulled from you own thoughts of now and into the times of wartime. You charge to the scream, you found a man losing blood quickly, and a shot pulled you from your thoughts. The boar that did this must have been shot, “Mistress Y/L/N, am I going to die?”

 All the pressure and anger you felt subsided, “Hold of Geordie, let me look at you,” several clansmen surrounded you. Dougal showed up to hold Geordie as you tried to patch up his leg. Dougal and him were exchanging words when you saw the wounds to his abdomen. Dougal made eye contact with you and you knew he knew what you were saying. You pulled off the tourniquet, and grabbed his hand, “Geordie, the pain is going to be go soon, but while we wait, I have a bet with Angus.” Geordie looked at you the way many men have looked at you before in the Marine. You had to bring him peace in the time of his panic, “I bet Angus that the colonies had more beautiful sites than Scotland. Tell me about your home, what’s it like?”

 Georgie perked up as he told you about his home and you gripped his hand with all your might and continue to stroke his hair to help sooth him. And soon he was gone, you quickly got up and made your way to your horse. Before you knew what you were doing, you made your way to the castle. You needed some busy work, like stitching up the leg of the man who was also attacked by the boar. Afterwards, you walked outside to see the men playing field hockey, which you played for a few years in high school. This was far more barbaric, and you could see Dougal taking his rage out on Jamie. He could cope in anger, but if you did this, you would be gutted.

 You wondered who would win in a fight and you had no doubt Jamie would win. When you saw Dougal on the ground, a young girl from one of your lessons tugged on your arm, “Well hello Molly dear, you enjoying the gathering?” There is no reason to take your rage on children, they didn’t do anything wrong. Honestly, teaching them defense things and survival tactics was the most time you felt at peace, well except when you were with – never mind that thought.

 “Aye mistress, very much,” you smile down at her, “I heard about your ill-wish and I know who made it. They did not know it was intended for you when they gave it to the girl.”

Guilt hit your chest again, someone was scared you were going to hurt them for being an accomplice. You were letting the harshness of one person hurt your relationship with the majority, “You know who put it under my bed?”

 “Aye mistress,” she whispered, “You wouldn’t be telling my mother, would you? She wouldn’t be wanting me to get into others business.”

 You bent down to her level, “Tell you what,” you pull out your coin bag with most of the money you made for yourself while staying here – your escape money, “I’ll tell your mother you helped me collect supplies for the gathering, which is why I paid you all this. And you tell me who put it under my bed?”

 “Mistress, I don’t need your money. Girls aren’t allowed to learn the things you are teaching. You don’t deserve any ill-wishes. You’re lovely,” you smile up at her.

 You pass her the bag, “You’ve earned it dear, I keep my word. Give me the name and the money is yours.”

 “Laoghaire,” she whispered. You shot up, looking around completely shocked.

 “Alrighty lass,” you pat her on the shoulder, “If you don’t mind, I have business to take care of.”

 “Be careful, please,” she urged after you.

 You had a hyper focus again, you intended to kick her ass, like you reported. And you found her socializing where most of the clan put up tent for the gathering. You passed Murtagh and Jamie, taking off your sling bag off and your dagger from your waistband and handed it to one of them, “Murtagh, could you mind this for me?”

 “I’m not your errand boy, lass, and where you going that you won’t need this,” he questioned.

 “You’re a pretty face, Murtagh, you ask too many questions,” you sass to him, looking at your target. Jamie and him stopped leaning on a post, both putting their drinks down. They could clearly tell you mean business. “Hey, Laoghaire, you two faced, toxic bitch, I got your gift earlier and I would like show you my appreciation.”

 She had the audacity to give you a glare, before she realized she was in real danger. She started to step backwards, and the crowd started to grow around you as you moved closer to the girl, “Leave me alone, wench.”

 “Oh, you do have words now that you can use. I thought you might be too stupid to speak up and say something since you chose to instead use this voodoo bullshit to get at me. You want to bring me pain lady, let’s go at it,” you finally were within three feet of her. Before you could make a grab at her, she ran in another direction.

 You were about to put your running skills to work, when Murtagh gripped your arm, “Come on lass, you made your point let’s get you back to the surgery.”

 “You know what, I’m a little busy right now. But I’ll meet you in the kitchen in a few, we can have some tea to cleanse our spirit, la de da and all,” you keep her in your eye sights. You were about to start your chase when you were tossed over a shoulder. Murtagh was carrying you back as you banged on his back. You were mad in this moment because you gave your dagger away to this meathead or he would have suffered from a few, no lethal jabs. He dropped you in the surgery room, “Damn it, Murtagh what the hell is wrong with you?”

 “With me, you were about to put a big target on your back. You’re a guest here lass, they don’t take too kindly to guests attacking one of their kin,” he leaned against the counter.

 You started to cry, and you usually do not cry, “Does it mean nothing I didn’t start it? Her action deserves a consequence. I watch all men here fight over nothing and here I am fighting against an injustice and my life is at danger. Do I not matter to anyone where? Should I just go to the tallest tower and jump?”

 “Don’t be so dramatic, an ill wish is nothing,” he urged to you. He didn’t seem too phased by the fact you were crying, though he did soften his voice to show sympathy, “I know you don’t believe any of nonsense. You are a smart woman.” You started to toss things about the surgery, organizing all the stuff you brought out for the hunt. Murtagh walked over to you and stopped you by gripping the top of both your arms, “Y/N, you matter more than you know. Stop this behavior, you’ll get accustomed.”

 “Murtagh, why do I always have to be the one to change? What do I have to do to feel like I belong here, how long will it take for people to believe I’m not an outsider?”

 He took a deep breath again, “I know it doesn’t seem it now and I don’t know how, but you do belong here. It’ll come in time. Until then, stop picking fights.”

 “Yes father,” you rolled your eyes, “Where is Jamie, I assume he has my bags and things?”

 “Aye, right now he is taken care of Laoghaire, so you needed be worrying about her anymore,” he said, making his way to the stairs.

 “Unless he has killed her and hid the body, I’ll keep to worry about her and her no good deeds, thank you,” you shouted at him. “And make sure Jamie brings back my things sooner rather than later.”

 And before Jamie could drop off your things, Dougal Mackenzie came down to share you would be journeying out to collect rent from the clan who wasn’t able to make it.

PART 11

 Taglist:  @doctorwhatwhenandwhere @damnedandbroken @blushingpogue @blancastans @slytherinambitious @kinky-asher @lovesanimals @bilesxbilinskixlahey

[ive-been-worse]

Liable PT 2

Word Count: 2,419

Warning: Violence, blood, knives, hospitals, close calls, mentions of anxiety/panic, let me know if I missed any.

A/N: this is part two to a different post. It's long, I can't write cases, kinda angsty but it has a happy ending. Enjoy

“Can you believe it?” You point your spoon at no one in particular. “A ‘liability’! God!” You let out a sardonic laugh and viciously dig into your ice cream.

You, Emily, JJ, and Penny are having girls’ night. Yes, you’re a little tipsy and definitely not over anything.

Emily shakes her head while JJ pours more wine for everyone.

“Y/N/N, you know you aren’t a liability. You’re damn good at your job and Hotch was full of shit,” Em doesn’t normally bash the boss but she’s a little more than tipsy too.

“You know what it is?” Penny butts in, “He likes youuuuuuu.”

Her words elicit a scoff from you, “As if.” Heat rose in your cheeks.

“No, she’s right. Everyone can see it. Hotch totally has a thing for you!” JJ exclaims, spilling a little of her wine. “Come on, are you seriously saying you’ve never noticed how much he hovers over you?”

“Or stiffens whenever you’re with an unsub?” Em adds.

“Or how he almost flinches everytime you call him ‘Agent Hotchner’,” Penny giggles.

“And, you like him too!” JJ says with a sudden seriousness.

You shake your head. As much as you want to deny JJ’s words, you can’t. Your crush has been blooming for a long time. It’s part of the reason why you’re taking this sudden cold front from your boss so hard. If only you knew what to do.

***

“Aaron, you gotta tell her,” was the first thing Dave said after sneaking into Hotch’s office.

“Tell who what, Dave?” Aaron asked. He didn’t have to ask. Dave was talking about you, just like he has been the last multiple times Dave has sought him out.

“Y/N. You know she’s a good agent. She deserves to know that.”

“Is that all?” Aaron has yet to look up from his paperwork.

“‘Is that all?’” Dave repeats, “No, first, it’s affecting the team. Everyone can see that. There’s so much tension between you two. After you fix that, you should also tell her how you feel.”

“Enough, there’s nothing to tell,” Aaron pinches the bridge of his nose, “I’ll handle it, okay?”

“You better.”

***

Hotch had kept you out of the field for seven cases. Seven. Working from Quantico was killing you and you had a newfound respect for Penny. That’s why you jumped, literally jumped, at the chance to finally go on a case with the team. However, you’re confined to the police precinct. Not ideal, but you’ll take what you can get. So while the team is gathering information in the field, you’re working on the geographical profile.

Unfortunately, geographical profiles are not your strong suit. More unfortunately, you’ve determined that there’s not enough information to make one. With a sigh, you push yourself away from the desk and make your way to the mediocre coffee station.

A young officer approaches with a smile, “What a case, right?”

You look him over. This case is probably the worst he’s seen. He’s not too bad on the eyes. Not quite your type. You shake your head as the thought of your boss flits through your mind. Giving the officer a small smile, “That’s your opening?”

Red blooms across his cheeks as he shrugs and rubs the back of his neck. “I had to start with something. I’m John,” his hand comes out between you two.

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you,” he grips your hand a little too hard.

The door to the precinct opens. Hotch, Emily, and Reid come in. They were at the latest crime scene.

Nodding your head at your team, “That’s my cue.”

You take your leave but John stops you. “How about you and I take some time and I’ll buy you a better coffee?”

“I can’t. We have to solve this case. That’s my priority,” It’s a little harsh but that’s what you’re here to do in the first place so that’s what you’re going to do.

“L/N,” Hotch calls.

“I’m coming,” you take your coffee and go to them. “What did you find?”

“Her friends report some guy talking to her at the bar they went to the night before she went missing. Apparently he kept trying to get her to go somewhere with him.” Hotch fills you in.

“Let me guess, she kept turning him down?” You fill in, earning a nod from your boss.

“How’s the geographical profile?” Reid asks.

“You’re welcome to take a shot at it but there’s not enough.”

This time it’s Emily who speaks, “We need another victim.”

And you got one that night.

The next day you're able to finish the profile. Right as you do, coffee is set on your desk. You look up to see John. “Thank you,” you tell him. Relief filling you at the thought of caffeine.

“You looked like you could use it,” he smiled at you. Taking a sip you looked up in surprise. The coffee was exactly how you like it. “I- uh - I noticed how you took it yesterday while we were talking.” John rubbed the back of his neck and you nodded.

“We’re ready to give the profile.” Hotch announced over the room to gather everyone’s attention. It didn’t take long for everyone to get ready.

“We believe that the unsub is a young male, in his twenties to thirties,” Hotch started.

“He’ll probably try to inject himself in this investigation if he hasn’t already,” Morgan went next.

Your turn, “Given the places the victims are taken from and the dump sites, the unsub’s comfort zone is in this area,” you gesture to the map, “Meaning he either lives or works somewhere in the area.” The rest of the profile goes smoothly.

After, you take a step outside, needing to clear your head. The door opens and there’s footsteps. You turn to talk to the person. A butt of a gun slams into your head. You feel the shock.

Everything goes black.

***

You come too in a dark place and you can’t make anything out. You can hear a flip get switched and the lights flicker on above you. Squinting against the harsh light, you try to orient yourself. You take inventory. You’re sitting. Killer headache, probably a concussion. There’s something wet on your temple. You go to wipe it away only to discover your hands are bound behind you. Ankles similarly tied but to the legs of the chair.

Trying to fight the panic setting in, you take a deep breath and look around. Knives line the wall in all different sizes. Pictures of the previous victims are hung on the wall with some sort of writing by them.

The unsub walks into the room. He has an old camera with him. It’s flash blinds you. You turn your head away from the flash. When you look back, the unsub’s back is to you and he’s hanging the picture he just took on the wall. He looks familiar. You can’t place him until he turns around.

John.

John with a knife.

John with a knife, and he's coming toward you.

***

“He uses a knife so he’s likely impotent but there’s nothing else that implies this is sexual for him,” Morgan rubs his temples.

“The multiple stab wounds are all done before the kill. So he’s sadistic,” Rossi adds.

JJ enters the room, a worried look on her face. “Y/N isn’t here. I’ve checked with the hotel and they haven’t seen her since we left. She’s not answering her phone.”

“What do you mean she isn’t here?” Rossi asks.

“No one knows where she went,” JJ says.

“Guys,” Reid enters the room, holding up a phone. Your phone.

“She wouldn’t leave with just anyone. Y/N’s careful.” Rossi scrubs his face.

“She probably didn’t go willingly. It’s broken.” Reid tells them, setting the phone on the table.

“I’ll call Hotch,” Morgan stands, leaving the room.

***

Coughs tear through you. Blood dribbles out, dripping onto your already ruined shirt. You turn your head and spit, trying to clear your mouth from the coppery liquid.

“You couldn’t have just said yes? It was just coffee. But no you couldn’t do that could you!” John lets out a deranged laugh. “You’re just like the others. So stuck up you won’t give anyone a chance.” The knife he wields sinks into your abdomen and you bite your lip to keep in the pained gasp. “We could have been happy together. You’d have to give up your job though. This isn’t a line of work for a lady.”

That line. You’d been hearing that line since you joined the BAU. You’re so tired of it. His face is so close. You spit and it lands on his cheek. A strange sense of satisfaction fills you as the bloody saliva trails down his jaw.

John wipes it off, “You’re going to regret that.” His fist hits the side of your head, sending ringing through your skull.

“No,” you cough up more blood. “You’ll regret this. My team will find you and you will pay.”

“Too bad you won’t be alive to see it.”

***

You were barely conscious when they found you. Your breaths are shallow. You don’t know what happened, what went down. All you know is that suddenly, you’re not in that chair anymore. You’re not there, and someone is being loud. Someone is yelling. You try to open your eyes to see who.

“Hotch,” it comes out weak. Barely a whisper. Your hand goes up on its own accord to wipe his tears, leaving a streak of red in its wake. “Why are you crying?” Suddenly your hand falls back to your side and you turn your head.

“Y/N! Hey Y/N! Stay with me!” His hand turns your head to look at him. His hands are so big. He’s warm. So warm. After you had been so cold.

“You’re so handsome, Hotch. So handsome,” it slurred out. Everything goes back once more.

***

The team is waiting anxiously at the hospital. Most of the cuts are shallow but the ones that aren’t caused you to need emergency surgery. They’re bad, more than enough to cause worry.

“She’ll make it. Y/N is strong. She’ll make it,” Emily sounds like she’s trying to convince herself.

Reid has his head in his hands.

Morgan is pacing.

Garcia rushes into the waiting room when she gets there, “How is she?”

“She’s in emergency surgery,” Rossi answers.

She collapses into a nearby chair.

Hours drip by. One after another. Someone convinces Hotch to change, get out of the bloodstained suit. Someone else gets everyone coffee, or a snack. No one touches those.

The more time passes the more everyone gets worried. When the doctor comes out, it’s too soon and not soon enough all at the same time. “She’s stable,” everything they say after is a blur from the relief. “You’re welcome to see her when she wakes up.”

It’s an hour later when a nervous looking nurse comes in the waiting room. “Are you for Y/N L/N?” Everyone stands nodding. “She’s- uh- she’s asking for an Agent Hotchner?”

“That’s me,” Hotch steps forward.

“Follow me. Uh- the rest of you can see her in a little while,” the nurse sent a smile to the rest of the team.

***

The light was bright in the hospital. The doctor was telling you what happened but you didn’t hear any of it.

The door opens and Hotch rushes to your side, “Y/N!” He scans you over, eyes stopping on every bandage.

“Hotch,” your hand covers his to get his attention. “What happened?”

“I- We almost lost you. It was bad. You lost a lot of blood,” he tries to fight back the tears.

“I’m sorry. I should have been more careful. I should have realized-”

“No!” His voice comes out startlingly loud. He makes an effort to soften it. “No. This isn’t your fault. No one blames you.”

You let out a self-deprecating laugh, “Sure. No one blames me. They all just think I’m a liability right?” The word slips out before you can stop it.

Liability. The same one he used before. It felt like a knife to the gut.

“No. No. No. You’re not a liability. It was wrong of me to say that. God, Y/N, you could never be a liability. You’re an amazing agent. You never would have made it if you weren’t. I never should have said that. I was worried. You were with that unsub all by yourself for god knows how long and could have been seriously hurt. It was wrong. I never meant it,” He was rambling. He knew. Hotch could also feel the tears track down his face.

“You mean it?” Your voice comes out small and weak, you fight back your own tears.

Hotch nods rapidly. “Every word. When this happened. I was so scared Y/N. I can’t lose you.” His head falls to the mattress, trying to hide the tears.

You take a deep breath and decide to try your luck. Today has to be a day of defeating odds. “Aaron,” that causes his head to shoot up. It’s your first time calling him by his name. “Aaron, look, I gotta tell you. I can’t just make it through that and keep quiet about this anymore, who knows about the time. Oh boy, I just- ah- I like you Aaron. More than I probably should, given that you’re my boss but it’s true,” you refuse to meet his eyes, scared of what you’d see.

“Y/N,” he pauses, “Y/N look at me,” his voice is gentle, coaxing you to meet his eyes. He smiles despite the tears. “I like you too. I’ve tried to hide it for so long. I did, but I can’t do it anymore.”

You laugh and then grimace from the pain radiating in your chest. You brush off Hotch’s concern. “I’m fine. If we do this though, we have to do it right. Not just getting together because of the high of relief that we both probably feel. Okay?”

“Of course, we’ll take it slow.”

Despite everything, you’re happy right now. On painkillers, and definitely traumatized, but right now, in this moment, you’re happy. It only gets better when the rest of your team, the best friends you have, flood the room. Everyone is high on the relief of survival and all-in-all, it could only be better if you weren’t stuck in the hospital.

[dadsbongos]

*bows down to you* I would like to know your despair arc headcanons for antag reader! Literally love antag reader so much 😳

ahhhhhh nonny please let me treat you to my adoration, i can’t thank you enough for asking me about my despair arc hcs for antag reader

Request for: Fuck it, not even Hajime anymore it’s just antag reader. Girlboss moment Warnings: fuckin despair arc tings lmao there’s a lot to deal with, face cutting, abuse (emotional, mental, physical) cuz hi junko enoshima, manipulation cuz hi junko enoshima, self mutilation/harm, mikan/junko toxicity, gore, vomiting  ~~~

Headcanons:

🐇Okay so I’ve said it before but!! 🐇She was in that toxic relationship between Mikan and Junko 🐇Junko would make her and Mikan compete for any and all affections just to cause them both despair (which even if “won”, was still denied) 🐇And then anytime she could, Junko would just absolutely berate (Y/n)’s looks and talent, calling the Ultimate Copycat a “fake talent” and “just stealing” 🐇So after Junko died, (Y/n) found her body and cut off portions of her face and replaced them with patches of Junko to “be more like her Despair” 🐇She would find people who wanted to fight for hope and take them in, insisting that she was on their side and would lead them to her house for “safety” 🐇Then she’d just restrain them with Mikan so they could perform experiments and surgeries on them together 🐇Definitely helps Kazuichi build his bigger machines, using the more intelligence she has to make better plans for what they’ll do with them 🐇I imagine that as a copycat antag, she’s got a shitload of charisma so she prolly just gets a load of followers 🐇I’m not saying it’s a cult… but 🐇Probably was the influencer for Nagito’s decision to become Servant 🐇Since he was already serving her all the time pre-despair he decided to join the WOH as their servant  🐇As for when she got captured by the Future Foundation… 🐇Was probably one of the harder ones to capture like Nekomaru and Gundham since she could be the Ultimate at almost anything she wanted 🐇When being interrogated by the Future Foundation she was probably smug and cocky af 🐇A solid match for Byakuya, no joke 🐇Maybe worse, like at least he sort of mellowed out with responsibility 🐇Keeps her mouth tightly shut until they mention anything about her face or Mikan 🐇Because as much as she doesn’t truly romantically love Mikan, she’s not even sure she loved Junko, she does care about the nurse very deeply 🐇So it’s when they mention having captured her that they get any sign of emotion other than cockiness 🐇When they say they have Nagito, that also gets them some words from her 🐇But if they say anything about her face, she has a little breakdown and throws a fit about how she’s better than everyone else in the room and she could kill them all if she wanted and she’s more beautiful than any of them could ever dream to be 🐇Didn’t get the chance to help Izuru release Junko into the Neoworld Program, but definitely would have if she could

Stories:

“Would you kill for me?” Junko murmured, bringing a hand up to caress (Y/n)’s cheek, rubbing her thumb over the bone, “Would you die for me?”

“I would!” she cried hysterically, tears already streaming down her face, “Please, say it! Please, just say it! I would do anything for you, please, just love me… I love you! I love you! Just love me, please…”

Her brows furrowed, bringing her gentle touch back to whip the copycat in the face with a backhand slap, “You’re so ugly, a little piggy ripe for the slaughter.”

Sobs pulled at (Y/n)’s convulsing body as she heaved on the ground. Her throat closed and dried up, chest burning and stomach churning until she finally felt her gag reflex trigger. She spat out stomach acids as she wept over a love that was never hers.

“God, you’re so nasty,” Junko kicked her in the ass, knocking her down into her own puke, “Get out and don’t come back until I command.”

“Love me… love me… love me… please… I beg you…!”

~~

“Do you think if I crushed my hand, Junko would care?”

“No.”

“Sonia wouldn’t care if you crushed yours.”

Kazuichi’s eyes flickered from his work to (Y/n), “I know.”

“It’d be…”

“Despairful?”

“Absolutely morbid,” her tone was breathy, a grin easing up over her lips and heart beating faster as she set aside the half-finished Monokuma and pressed her hand onto the metal desk, raising her heavy wrench above her head. 

Kazuichi was quick to copy the moves, eyes wide in anticipation and muscles twitching as his brain desperately tried sending the signals for him to stop.

“One…”

“Two…”

“Three!”

Screams echoed in the warehouse following the sickening crunch of bones under the torturous weight of their wrenches. Kazuichi looked at the girl through his tears, “Again?”

In the midst of her agonized cries, she nodded, blubbering about how horrific the pain was, “Yes, yes, again!”

And so, the countdown started once again.

“One, two, three!”

More bones broken, more pain blasting through their hands for their beloveds to reject everything they were. For the loves they held so dear to look upon them and their injuries and roll their eyes - because they were meaningless in their loves’ eyes.

And that was the despair they craved.

~~

Nagito held out his chain, grimacing when it was Izuru who took it rather than (Y/n) before shoving that hatred back into his chest. Izuru may be a despair-filled faker with no real talent he’d been born with, but he himself, Nagito Komaeda - Servant - was worse. 

He wasn’t worth the air in his lungs. Not even human garbage as he was barely passable as a human being. 

Then, his eyes traveled once again to (Y/n). His dearest and closest friend.

Izuru may have had more talents mastered, but she was natural. She was genuine and had taken the time to master her Ultimate herself while Izuru had them all planted inside his brain as if he had a right to them at all. It was like watching a slacker get all the credit that a hard-worker had already done. Infuriating.

He wished to see (Y/n) ascend into hope once more, he truly believed she could pave the way above everyone else. She had to. She was better than everyone else, it was up to her to return them to hope, once she realized hope for herself.

He believed in her and her hope - once Enoshima’s metaphorical hands were ripped from her spirit.

And he liked to think she had fresh patches of skin that weren't hers, still red around the scars and peeling, were there for the same reason he had a new hand that wasn’t his.

~~

“She’s so much like Byakuya,” Makoto mumbled, watching through the glass as their newest captured Despair, (Y/n) (L/n), tapped her nails against the table her hands were chained to.

“First that troublesome imposter and now her, who do they think they are? They’re not even near being worthy of the Togami name.”

Kyoko scanned the girl, “She was screaming at the guards earlier when they pointed out the scars and patches on her face. Perhaps bringing it up again will get her to talk about some things.”

“We…” Makoto stopped, shivering at the memory of Junko Enoshima’s corpse when they’d found it on the side of the road outside their old school. Patches missing from a bloodied, pulpy face, “We already know what happened. What more could you want her to talk about?”

“Maybe she knows where some of her classmates are.”

“The nurse freaked out when we mentioned her, maybe if we bring Mikan up to (Y/n), she’ll have a similar reaction,” the Ultimate Hope offered up.

Nodding, Kyoko turned towards the door into the interrogation room, “It’s worth a shot.”

~~

Five minutes was all they got, Makoto Naegi said. He was compassionate and understanding and so sweet. Of course, he’d set up a meeting between the lovers who didn’t know if they ever really loved each other.

Mikan was always unusually cold and smelled of lavender with a hint of vanilla, her hands were soft and her lips a lovely shade of pink.

Now, as (Y/n) held the nurse’s hand over the interrogation table and basked in her presence, she could feel how much she’d changed in despair. She was still cold but now she reeked of dirt and blood, no matter how many showers she’d taken. Her lips were much paler; dry and cracked. Hands rough and calloused.

“They told me you took her womb.”

“You took her face.”

“You’ll bear her children?”

“You’ll bear her beauty?”

It was always a fight. It was always a competition. For more. For love. For the affection and attention they’d been deprived of all their lives.

“Have you… tried conceiving?”

There was silence. Mikan looked down at the table and then back up at (Y/n).

Her skin was no longer peeling along the jagged incision sites but her scars were infecting when she’d been taken in and it was obvious. They were puffy and oozed every so often.

She looked back down.

“With who?”

Shaking her head, Mikan tightened her grip on the girl’s hand.

“Why didn’t you get me to do the skin graft?”

“You were probably busy.”

“I would’ve done it anyway. I’d done Fuyuhiko’s eye.”

There was more silence. Stiffness building in the girls’ bodies the longer their quietness buzzed in the room.

“Am I still beautiful…?” it was rare to see vulnerability in (Y/n).

“Almost like our beloved herself.” it was rare to hear a lie from Mikan.

It wasn’t the scars or the blood or the skin patches, it was the act of how she’d gotten them. Scars and patches didn’t make a person ugly, but stealing pieces of a dead woman’s face and using them as your own did.