#i think it goes the exact same as canon except a little more miserably

[kiyomitakada]

proof of concept for the yagamane soulmate au (doesn't actually contain any yagamane yet) dont mind me

The only reason Sachiko isn’t running is because there are children swarming around her, laughing and giggling while she shoves her way through the hall. Where had the nurse’s office been on the map — she rounds a corner, tries to catch her bearings, then notices it: the sounds of someone crying.

Light.

Sachiko yanks the door open, heart pounding in her ribs. Light never cries — he used to as a toddler, of course, but after Sayu was born Sachiko can count on one hand the number of times he’s had a tantrum. Her baby is so mature. When the school had called and told her Light was having some sort of nervous breakdown, I think? she’d dropped everything without a second thought and taken a taxi here.

“There, there,” the nurse is saying, rubbing her son’s back. “It’s okay.”

“Don’t touch me,” Light hiccups, broken and high-pitched, and Sachiko would shout at the nurse to get away from him if not for the fact that Light’s little fingers have the nurse’s wrist in a vice grip as though afraid she'll go.

“Light,” Sachiko says, “I’m here, Light.” She drops her bag on the floor and drops to the floor, cradling his face in her hands; Light doesn’t resist. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“It doesn’t work,” Light sobs. His eyes are puffy with tears. From the nurse’s expression Sachiko surmises this has been going on for a while. “Mama — Mama, where’s Dad?”

Sachiko’s heart twists. “Your dad’s at work,” she says, brushing a soaked strand of hair out of Light’s face. The nurse, free of Light’s grasp, has moved a few paces away to give them space. Light collapses. His head flops on Sachiko’s shoulder; she has to shift her weight to hold him. “Honey, talk to me. What happened?”

“I t-tried everyone,” Light says, voice a little muffled in Sachiko’s sweater. “Even the o-older girls, and the boys, and — nothing happened.”

Well, that’s probably good, Sachiko manages to not say aloud. What business does Light have with the upper-grade kids? “Did you want something to happen?” she asks instead.

Light nods miserably. “Noriko-sensei s-says you’ll know when it does. You’ll see it.”

“When wh—?”

Sachiko stops. She thinks. Light’s hand has clamped around her wrist, like he did with the nurse’s, and for the first time she realizes. He’s covering her soulmate tattoo.

“Light,” she says slowly, “what did you do?”

She doesn’t mean for it to sound accusatory, but Light bursts into a new round of tears against her shoulder. Sachiko, shocked, wraps her arms around him, runs a hand through his hair. “It’s okay, Light,” she tries. “It’s okay!”

Light keeps sobbing.

Sachiko looks up at the nurse. “What class was he in just now?”

“Arts and crafts,” the nurse says. “They were making bracelets.”

The red camellias are printed in a woven pattern encircling Sachiko’s wrist. They are silent.

“It was my idea!” Light gasps out between hiccups.

Sachiko takes a moment before she speaks.

“Light, were you trying to find your soulmate?”

“I-it doesn’t make any sense,” Light says. His free hand is clenched in a fist. “You — you and Dad said — you’ll always meet —”

Sachiko swallows her horror. This is her fault. This is all her fault.

“Nurse,” she says, “could you please leave us alone?”

The nurse nods and withdraws through the door.

Sachiko sighs. She knew she’d have to give her kids the talk one day, but Light is only six, and she’d thought she had more time…

“Light,” she says, “soulmates aren’t real.”

-

The soulmate phenomenon is one of the greatest medical mysteries of all time. Not for a lack of literature: the abundance of evidence regarding soulmatehood stretches into Mesopotamian records. But it makes no sense. There are seven billion people alive. The chance of finding your soulmate, even without considering age and gender and all that, is almost nothing.

But it does happen. Misa knows, because her parents are soulmates.

To be honest, she’d had her doubts before. They screamed at each other, sometimes threw things, kept alternating being kicked out to cheap motels. But they always made up, in the end. Made up… passionately. Misa learned to put on music to drown it out.

“What does it mean?” she asked curiously one day, pointing at the bloodred ruby embedded in the hollow of her mom’s throat.

“It means he’s strangling me,” her mom said. “What do you want for breakfast?”

After her dad had gotten back from the motel she’d asked him instead.

“Well, Misa,” he said. “Your mother’s the worst bitch alive, and I’m the only one who can handle her right.” He touched his thumb to the ruby printed on his throat, fondness tugging at his smile. “We’re the same person. That’s what it means.”

Misa hadn’t really gotten it, back then. Why would two of the same people fight? If she could make another Misa she’d do it in a heartbeat. That way Other-Misa could do the chores for her.

…On second thought, maybe she did get it.

But anyway. Somewhere, subconsciously, she’d always doubted. Misa was very up-to-date on the latest celebrity scandals, and she knew how easy matching tattoos were to fake.

But now she is staring through the crack in the closet. There is blood pooling on the floor, a dull red compared to the bright, shining light glowing from her dad’s throat. She stares and stares and stares until it fades to the white color of a scar.

“Miss,” says the officer on the phone, “Miss! Stay calm, we’re almost there—”

“Don’t fucking bother,” Misa says, and hangs up.

Her mom had stumbled like she’d been stabbed when her ruby went white. Snapped at Misa to hide and call the police, then picked up a kitchen knife. Misa isn’t sure when the burglar whoever-it-was dragged her dad’s dead body to rest in her line of view, but she knows his throat had still been glowing until it wasn’t.

She’ll never doubt soulmates are real again.

-

Light is seventeen years old and the world is falling apart.

Soulmates, he scoffs to himself, whenever the topic comes up in discussion. Akasato is rambling about his girlfriend again and how they’re fated to be. Light isn’t jealous. Getting attached is the worst thing that could ever happen to someone.

“I swear, man, the way you talk about her I think your tattoo should’ve been a ball and chain,” Yamamoto says.

Akasato groans. “She’s not that bad! She sent me chocolates!”

“The same ones she gave that basketball guy?” Light laughs.

“Don’t remind me, I’ll kill him, I swear,” Akasato says. Grinning. Murder is so out of the realm of possibility it’s funny. “And anyway, she’s coming over for Christmas.”

“Oh, whoa,” Yamamoto says. “Happy for you.”

“Yeah, congrats,” Light adds.

His mom wasn’t lying, exactly. The chances of stumbling across your soulmate are effectively zero. There’s studies suggesting that it’s higher than random chance, that most found soulmates live in or around the same timezone as you, but he’s pretty sure they’re cherry-picking.

It’s much easier to fall in love with someone and make them your soulmate instead, his mom had explained to him softly, rubbing her wrist. Much easier to get a tattoo with them, rather than hoping it’ll show up on your skin at first touch. Maybe even more romantic. Your dad and I love each other, Light. Who cares if he’s not perfect? He’s good enough for me.

The last time a teacher called Light’s work good enough was in fifth grade. Light had sabotaged his swivel chair afterwards and he’d had to take a week off.

“Thanks, guys,” Akasato says. “Hey, Yamamoto, who’re you having over for Christmas?”

“Oh, you know, the usual.”

“Sending cards to girls again?” Light puts in.

Yamamoto snorts. “Not all of us are lucky enough to be like Aka-chan here—”

“You take that back—”

“—and find their soulmate in middle school,” Yamamoto finishes. “I’m going to keep trying.”

“You know you actually have to make contact with them for it to happen, right?” Light asks.

“Obviously!”

“Yagami’s right,” Akasato says, pleased he’s not the topic of conversation anymore. “Are you sure you’ve got enough game for that, Yamamoto? I think you’d faint if a girl held your hand.”

“I’ve had girlfriends!”

“Sure, sure,” Light says. They all laugh. It’s nice having friends. “Oh, here’s my stop.”

“See ya!”

Light enters the house. Gives his mother his test grades, lets her coo, then slips into his room and heads for the drawer.

There it is. Untouched.

Who needs soulmates, he thinks, when you can be the god of the new world?

-

Misa sits cross-legged on a repurposed picnic blanket spread awkwardly over the wet dirt. She sticks one rose each into the soil in front of her parents’ graves.

“Hey, mom, dad,” she starts. “I’m not gonna come back for a while.”

The graves are silent. They have been for almost a year now. One rose almost falls over; Misa hurriedly reaches to fix it.

“I’m going to move to Kanto,” she declares. “I’ll catch him no matter what I do. I know which jail he’s in already. The prosecutor told me.”

She sticks the rose back in with some violence. It droops. All the other ones she’s brought have wilted — obviously, because their stems were cut ages ago. She can’t plant seeds, though. That would require someone watering them.

“I’ll ask for a visit and get him to attack me,” she continues. “And then I’ll stab him, and I’ll scream, and I’ll tell everyone it was self-defense. What do you think, Mom?” She’d always been better at lying than Dad.

“Good idea? I knew it.” Misa hops up, brushing the dirt off the picnic blanket. “I’ll start getting ready soon. Next month, I think. Definitely.”

-

“Ah,” says the voice from the television screen. “I had to test this, just in case, but I-I never thought it would actually happen… Kira. It seems you can kill people without having to be there in person.”

Light freezes.

He was wrong, he realizes, for possibly the first time in his life. He was wrong. Someone’s out there.

“Try to kill me,” L’s saying, and Light can hear the smirk even through unknowable kilometers of distance. “What’s wrong? Go ahead! Can’t you do it?”

“You bastard,” Light hisses through his teeth, feeling so alive he could cry.

He shouts I am justice at the same time L does, grinning, half-manic, and doesn’t even realize he’s clutching his wrist.

-

“Please,” says the stalker in the shadows, “please, Misa-Misa, I just need to — I just need to touch —”

Misa backs away. This is a dead end alleyway. She should never have gone to the convenience store at night. Her and her empty refrigerator and her stupid hungry stomach. There’s a fire escape, maybe if she jumps—

“Can you even fucking hear me?” The stalker shouts.

Misa nods, automatic, and wonders if she should scream. No one’s around at this time of day. Who would even miss her?

“Just one touch,” the stalker says. “Come on!”

And then in a flash he’s running for her. Misa turns and sprints and leaps for the fire escape — and misses it. She collapses in a heap.

Her stalker has his hand on her cheek. She jerks away. Of all the fucking days she could have forgotten her pepper spray.

“It’s not you,” the stalker says, abruptly sounding like he’s about to cry. “How could it not be you?”

“Get away from me,” Misa says, stumbling to her feet.

“All the interviews I watched,” the stalker says. “I have all your magazines, Misa-Misa!”

“I haven’t been in that many issues,” says whoever is operating Misa’s vocal cords as she calculates her chances. She has to catch him by surprise, it’s the only opportunity she’s got, shove him and run—

Oh. He has a knife. Never mind that, then.

“At least we can die together,” the stalker says — or — tries to say. Misa watches in shock as his mouth clicks shut and he… turns away?

And then he clutches his chest, and he falls.

Misa stays there, sucks in a few more breaths of cold air, then runs.

-

@kiyomitakada (so i can reblog)

[ziracona]

Do you have your own headcanons for the newer characters? I try to imagine them interacting with the rest of the characters and after reading ILM everything you write is canon for me now (been dissapointed with the recent tome).

I have some! Though except for the Stranger Things kids, I don’t know any of the new ones as well and I haven’t written for them, so I don’t have a ton for most of them. 

I think for Ash, being in the realm is weird, because he’s been through his share of hell, but like, Ash is from a Horror-/comedy/? And there’s a lot of overlap, but if you lived in a horror comedy world and went to psychological horror torture horror world, it would be some whiplash, even for a seasoned dude. It’s not that he hasn’t been through horrible stuff, it’s that it felt different before. The realm is such a grind. It’s an unending cycle. And Ash is used to not being able to outrun trouble, but he’s used to that meaning life is a fight. Now, there’s nothing he can really do, and danger means constantly running and struggling and failing. So I think that would be hard to cognitively get used to. Because of his personality (as I understand it--I’ve only seen Evil Dead, & I’d do more research before actually writing him) though, I think he would weather it surprisingly well, and be the kind who can crack jokes and be cocky and fun even there. Because of that, I think he and Meg would vibe really well and get along, and so would he and Ace.

Ash likes to tell stories about all the wild stuff he did before the realm. Some of them believe him (Claudette, Meg, Dwight, Steve)--or mostly do but think he exaggerates (Laurie, Quentin, Nancy), some think he’s super lying (Jane, Jake, Min, Zarina), and a lot fall in between. They all enjoy them though, because he’s a great storyteller and very engaging.

Ash isn’t exactly a support unit /at all/, but the fact he lost a hand pre-realm is surprisingly helpful to the group in a support area. Any time someone in the group is wounded outside a trial and has to recover, he’s way better than anyone else at helping them get used to operating without whatever they’ve lost, and just seeing how well Ash can carry his weight doing complex stuff like fixing a gen even down a hand alleviates a lot of fear for them about what would happen if one of them got /gravely/ hurt. This is wild for Ash, because he sure wasn’t much of a support member/usually isn’t, but he goes with it and is glad to help.

Ash greatly dislikes going against Rin. She hits way too close to home. He’s pretty desensitized to gore and horror and violence from his life even pre-realm, but his first experience with horror involved his sister and his girlfriend being attacked and then turning into monsters and trying to kill him, and he was a baby--like 21 at the time, super young adult--and it was extremely traumatic. He almost died because his girlfriend kept seeming like herself and the horror and gore would vanish from her demon-zombie form and she’d be her again, and he’d think he could save her, but she was dead the whole time. The way that Rin looks like a horrible smiling monster viciously hungry for your pain and then will suddenly flash to looking like a heartbroken teenager crying over what she’s done is way too reminiscent of that. It’s literally the only thing in the realm that /really/ shakes him.

(Nancy, Steve, Yui, Zarina, and Cherly HCs under the cut)

Nancy and Steve are really glad they ended up there together instead of alone (I mean, they aren’t happy the other is in hell, but like, it really helps them both to have the emotional support of person they knew from before with them). Nancy adjusts to the realm faster than Steve as in takes it in stride and learns faster, because she’s more cool headed, but it’s about equal levels of awful and slowly eating at them both. They depend on each other a lot to keep up their spirits and to talk about old memories and the loved ones back home.

Nancy gets along really well with Kate, Claudette, Yui, Jeff, and Laurie, but pretty well with them all. Steve also fits in just fine, but gets along especially well with Claudette, Meg, David, Quentin, and Min and Laurie (eventually).

Laurie and the ST kids bond and get a lot of relief from being from similar times. This is especially nice for Laurie, who hasn’t seen anyone from her time in a long time, and feels very lost and last-man-standing because of it. Since the ST kids are from only a few years after Laurie, they get to talk about a lot of the same stuff.

Steve tries to pick Laurie up because he’s bowled over by how cool and strong she is. She doesn’t even notice. When she /finally/ does like a week after he starts trying, she goes, “Are you trying to hit on me /here/?” bc dating in the realm is beyond wild to Laurie who has been in survival mood since 1978 and not even /thought/ about changing that setting. They’re in a group at the time and Steve is so embarrassed that even though he’s flirty, he doesn’t flirt with anyone for like a whole month. This is actually really good for him, because Steve is the kind of person who doesn’t really know how to /not/ be in a relationship, and solo time helps him build a lot of self-worth and self-confidence outside of any kind of relationship at all. Laurie feels kinda bad he took it so hard and tries to be nice to him, and eventually they end up p close friends and it’s very good for both of them.

Nancy is excited to learn fighting tips from David, Yui, and Laurie and pursues it with a vigor. They are all impressed but especially Yui is. Nancy’s very passionate and forceful when she has to be and has a lot of pride, but is also very willing to be humble when she thinks she should be/someone knows more than her about whatever area, and Yui really likes that about her and is interested by it, and she and Nancy kind of slowly become best friends. They vibe really well because they operate similarly.

One of the ST kids mentions a song Quentin likes and he gets really excited they might be into his kind of music, and then finds out Nancy isn’t deep into any specific genre and Steve likes top 50 hits and they’re both like “It sucks for you it’s us and not Jonathan bc you have the exact same taste” and Quentin’s like :’-] “damn it.” He definitely teases Steve for some of the bops he likes, but like, in a lighthearted friend way, and it’s a rapport they get--throwing not-seriously-meant-at-all jabs about music that always devolves into “That one’s actually really good,” “Oh yeah?” “Oh totally you’d really like it. The baseline is like--” “--oh is it crunch?” “Oh, /hell/ yeah.” 

Yui is super unhappy about being stuck here, because she dedicated a lot of her life to being a spokesperson about violence against women and stopping it, and now she’s trapped in hell where she and everyone else get cut up and killed constantly and she can do very little to help them. That manifests as anger instead of depression though, and she is a /spitfire/ in trials. Girl will throw hands at the drop of a hat if it has even a small chance of helping the gang make it out. Some of the killers (Legion, Michael, Pig, Wraith) start to dread getting her because she /will/ kick their ass. Like, she won’t win, ever, because the realm is stacked, but she /will/ injure you. She’s like, the one killers start to request /not/ to get. 

Some of the killers fight back at this though, and Yui ends up getting super tunneled and injured and soloed out to be hurt, and even tortured a few times, and that is really hard for her. I mean, torture and violence are hard on anyone. But not only does she get punished for fighting as hard as she can for her friends in a hopeless situation by enduring a bunch of awful violence, she also feels like she can’t be candid about how bad it was or ask for much help because she doesn’t want anyone to think she’s beaten or weak or will be deterred by this, or for them to see her any differently--she /really/ doesn’t want to be seen as a victim. She’s a fighter. And she keeps fighting, though she slacks off a little gradually with how aggressive she is both to help the team and because how much she’s enduring as punishment is unbearable, which makes her feel a lot of self-loathing and like she’s letting herself down.

A lot of people try to help her because they know she’s not doing so well, but this makes her feel worse because she doesn’t want them to notice at all. Quentin finally is able to get her to talk a little by just being /super/ candid about how he’s felt about stuff that’s happened to him, even the ugly feelings, and sharing details/vulnerability with her, and that helps her a /lot/ because there’s at least one person she can talk to some. She doesn’t have anyone she tells everything or most of everything to until much later though, after Nancy becomes her friend. Once they’re really, really close, she eventually tells Nancy the truth, then immediately wishes she hadn’t, but Nancy handles it really well and gives her good advice and is super honest about how much Yui’s strength and selflessness inspire her, and that hearing all this she’s been going through and how awful it’s been and that she’s still doing all this in spite of what a war that is inside her just makes her even more impressed and see how utterly outclassed she is in bravery and how much work she has to do to get close to where Yui is, and it helps a whole lot, and they were already best friends, but they are /incredibly/ close after that night. Yui also opens up more to some of the others and is more okay asking for help, although she stays pretty guarded about how hard things feel.

Once she hears what Rin is, Yui feels terrible for her. She tries to keep small gifts on her she has no idea if Rin would like or even be /able/ to enjoy, and when she gets Rin in a trial, she’ll leave them for her/in her pockets. She has no idea if this means anything, but she’s miserable for the Onryo and wants to be able to help, even if she really can’t. She’s similarly very sympathetic to any killer she finds out was lied to or is not in control of their own actions, like Lisa and Philip. Detests all the serial killer/torture killers to a level on par with the vicious hatred the creator of the “ i fucking hate jurgen leitner “ video feels towards Jurgen Leitner. Gets along really well with Kate, Tapp, and David bc they similarly want JUSTICE and cannot get it.

Zarina shows up in realm and is like “Un-fucking believable. I try to uncover the truth about a cover up and I get kidnapped by an eldritch demon. That figures.” She’s distressed life has yet again been like “No, f you in particular Zarina,” but she is determined to help the others stuck there, and /very/ determined to find a way to escape. Gets along well with Jane, Jake, Dwight, and Adam right away, because she and Jane have a lot of “Oh something like that happened to me!” kinds of stories to share with each other, Adam’s curiosity vibes with hers, and Dwight and Jake lead the “Escape Planning Time” discussions.

After she learns enough second-hand about Dwight to know he was way less cool before and fixed his life, she likes him even more and has a kind of kinship with him and mentions how she kind of hid from who she was and lost herself in even feeling shame about her identity and how hard but invaluable becoming who she is now was, and how proud she is of herself. It’s a super relief for Dwight to meet someone as cool and good as her who comes up to him and goes “Hey we’re the same!” because he still worries about himself and how he’s doing. Gives him a lot of peace of mind and they are bros.

When she realizes Caleb Quinn is a killer in the realm, Zarina is thrown for a huge loop. She’s still curious if the stories about him are lies, but uh, getting murdered by him doesn’t exactly make her feel very warmly towards him and she kind of loses a lot of enthusiasm about it, until she hears him mutter his old boss’s name (which she remembers from her investigation) hatefully under his breath while attacking Jeff, as if he is talking /to/ his boss, and she starts running observation point with some of the others and figures out that he’s hallucinating who he sees. Eventually she executes an elaborate mid-trial “Hey you’re being lied to” that works well enough he actually figures out the Entity has been manipulating him hardcore. It does not change much on their end, sadly, once he knows? Caleb is out of rotation for a while, then goes back into it with very little change in how he hunts them, although he is somewhat less brutal/isn’t excessively cruel, and is more scarred than before. He also definitely avoids Zarina specifically and if he has a go after this person or her choice, always goes after the other person. He’s a long time violent criminal so he’s ofc not like, reformed by being informed he was being used, but Caleb hates being used more than anything else, and it’s happened a lot, so in a “honor among” something way, he tries to pay her back by only hunting her when there isn’t someone else to hunt. She is simultaneously annoyed by this and curious/hopeful that maybe it means there is some slim chance the dude has some humanity left, but she remains unsure.

Zarina joins the support squad of Adam, Claudette, and Quentin during trials, and enjoys hanging with them and picking up skills from the more seasoned members. 

She is also /super/ interested in trying to solve the realm and how it works, and asks people for detail on everything they know and takes copious notes. She’s fascinated by Benedict Baker, whom she hasn’t met, and starts collecting everything he has written that she can find, and begins journaling some in a similar fashion to record things she discovers or guesses. She likes to interview her friends about themselves, and they find it kind of awkward and odd at first, but get to really appreciating having their experiences listened to and recorded. It makes them feel more like their existences and suffering and hopes and pasts all matter.

Cheryl was traumatized before even /getting/ to the realm. She’s pretty closed off about her personal backstroy, because uh, it’s a /lot/, and it’s heavy af. She’s kind of nervous and paranoid people will want to use or hurt her if they know what she is, because it’s happened in the past, so she’s very skittish about deep relationships and divulging the truth.

This nature makes her click pretty well with Laurie, whose interests explicitly do not involve prying. They’ve also both been through a lot of trauma and don’t like people to know the details, so they are pretty happy just being silently in each others’ company.

After she has an especially bad nightmare she wakes up from screaming about the fourth time, Quentin hesitantly starts trying to get to know her and walk the balance beam of “I want to know what’s going on so I can help” and “I don’t want to pry.” He and she confide in each other some, albeit pretty vaguely, but it helps. They’ve both got a lot of guilt over stuff that isn’t their fault and endless nightmares and are very empathetic/altruistic people, and it’s probably that overlap that gets Min and Nea god-tier invested in Cheryl’s welfare after a couple months of her steadily proving she is not getting very close to anyone, and almost seems to think she deserves this hell and will never escape it.

On basically wild impulse alone and too much chaotic energy, Nea and Min decide to make looking out for and forcing Cheryl to hang w them a pet project. She’s super confused and nervous at first, and doesn’t want to drag anyone down with her, but the girls are nothing if not persistent, and she kind of slowly comes more out of her shell and starts to laugh and smile some and very slowly decides they don’t have any ulterior motives and so far nothing bad has happened to them because of her, so maybe it’s okay. David and Kate also like Cheryl a lot--initially probably because she reminds them some of Quentin, who they’re both very fond of, but then after they know her better just because they really like her herself as a person. Everyone likes Cheryl, but some are much better than others at trying to be friends with her. A lot of the high-energy ones kind of are overwhelming for her, at least at first, and she’s got so much despair and guilt and disappointment in herself that the less vocal ones she tends to read as not liking her even though they’re just quiet. This slowly improves though, and she ends up much happier and less alone.

When some of them finally get /part/ of her life story, everyone is overwhelmingly horrified for her. The whole group turns into a Cheryl Protection Squad for the next like 6 months. She is overwhelmed and confused and mildly distressed by this, but also happy and moved on a “I want to go find somewhere to cry alone” kind of level because after all she’s been through, it’s dragged back to hell again she’s the happiest she’s been since she was a kid.

I’m gonna stop here bc that’s a lot, but hope you enjoyed these! : )

[joekabox]

I just watched Digimon Adventure: Last Evolution Kizuna

I’m writing this while my thoughts are fresh, so I just want to say these may not be my final thoughts on the film. Sometimes a film takes a little while to fully hit me, and this is just my thoughts immediately after watching said film.

Spoilers below, and a lot of text. I had a lot to say, sorry. I also apologize if its a little rambley, that’s kind of just how my brain works. Anyway...

Going into the film, I heard mixed reviews from various sources. From some, I heard the film was bad, from others, that it was good, but from most, that it was just okay. Nothing horrible, nothing great, but an okay film. 

I’m not sure where I sit, presently, but perhaps I’ll come to an idea by the end of this review.

The film is very well put together. Unlike Tri, and arguably the last bit of Adventure and a good portion of Adventure 02, Last Evolution felt like a cohesive plot, beginning to end. It knew what it wanted to be, and it did it. There wasn’t a point where I felt confused about what was happening, and unlike Tri, it didn’t throw in random elements that went unexplained from 02 and proceed to leave them unexplained. I think the closest we get is a shot of Sora, alone, with her Digivice turned to stone with little explanation as to what happened, but honestly, I think we can all agree we know what was happening, just putting together the scenes the film showed us earlier of her and Piyomon together. She was hit first, and while the film didn’t hold our hand on her journey, her journey acted as a vehicle to drive us towards the ending of this film, and I appreciate it.

Every emotional scene hits, every action scene is well executed. The animation is fresh and new, but evokes the original style in a way that isn’t exact but certainly close enough. I think that was maybe a good choice, given the theme of the film itself. 

In tone, it isn’t just a sad waterworks of a story the entire way through like Tri tried to be, but instead one loaded with emotional weight but enough pep and action to keep it feeling upbeat most of the time.

Overall, I liked watching this movie. I felt compelled to keep watching, and the opening scene of the film is just a love letter to Adventure as a whole. I honestly forgot it was only an hour and a half long as I got engaged with the story, as it never feels slow but every scene has weight and depth to it.

This film seems to care far more about the characters and drive of the story than Tri did, and by that I mean it didn’t try fixing all the flaws of the original, but simply let them rest. I think that might have been intentional, as this movie really felt like a ‘good bye’ to the series. The entire plot was about putting Adventure to rest, after all.

Now for the bad stuff.

This film really missed the chance to introduce Biomerging to the Adventure mythos via Taichi and Yamato, and while it gave that honor to the antagonist of the film, it didn’t seem to bother with the protagonists, probably because people seem to cringe when some fans even mention the concept of humans turning into Digimon.

Tamers gave us the concept of Biomerging to drive home the idea that a tamer and their Digimon partner had a bond beyond just friendship, and while perhaps ham-fisted, was a great visual metaphor. Last Evolution seemed to have a subtle buildup to this same core idea, but when push came to shove, we have Agumon and Gabumon becoming very humanoid versions of their Greymon and Garurumon forms respectively, meanwhile Taichi and Yamato just sit on their shoulders and pantomime their actions. I’m deeply curious if the initial idea was to biomerge them, but they bailed last second, but I digress.

This film also seems to continue the trend of just not caring about 02, but less so. While I will 100% give this film credit for not only including the 02 cast but also giving them a plot within the film, they didn’t really feel connected to the rest of the characters, not even towards Hikari or Takeru, who they spent the entire length of a show with. They just sort of feel like sidekicks to the Adventure cast, and not their own characters. We never even get Imperialdramon, despite Imperialdramon being shown to be at least on par with Omegamon in abilities, if not slightly surpassing them.

And, my biggest complaint, and one that probably isn’t a surprise: the time limit on having a Digimon partner makes little sense when looking at the rest of the mythos. In 02, we are shown the character of Oikawa, who’s entire narrative is a lifelong goal to go to the Digital World like him and his late best friend always dreamed of, and relies on children to aide him because he’s a grown man (if I recall correctly). From that alone, it seems like the ‘adults can’t have Digimon partners’ angle makes sense...except it doesn’t, because in the last bit of the show, Oikawa finally does make it to the Digital World, and what awaits him on the other side? His chosen Digimon partner, who waited this entire time to meet them, having dreamed of the day Oikawa would one day visit the Digital World.

While I suppose the ‘grown ups don’t have Digimon’ bit isn’t necessarily unsupported, it feels like an unnecessary plot device. The only saving grace I think it has, beyond making for an engaging and emotionally impactful film, is that several points of the film suggest this may not be the final say. Gennai makes an off handed comment about the possibility of delaying it, and there’s a constant message of “well see each other again.” While that may be just a hopeful thing to say in the face of sadness, much as one often says such things to a dying loved one, a producer of Last Evolution has stated that the film does, in fact, line up with the established Adventure canon, including the ending of 02, which specifically states that not only do Taichi and Yamato have their Digimon partners, but that everyone gets a Digimon partner. 

If this film really is intended to be canon with the finale of 02, and that Agumon and Gabumon will one day return, then I feel this film simply cared more about its narrative of growing up and moving on than anything, and honestly...I don’t think that’s horrible, in retrospect. This film, as mentioned, had a very cohesive plot, and a very strong story it was trying to tell, and it did it well. At no point did I feel anything was done to punish the audience or throw a kink in the hose, if you will.

The worst aspects of Tri (which I keep comparing this film to, sorry), were its insistence to cut away from 02, correct things done wrong in the lore of Adventures past, and tell an ultimately disheartening and sad message of “sometimes bad things happen and it sucks and there’s no good side about it, but we must move on.” Last Evolution has a similar message of “sometimes bad things happen and it sucks,” but it goes on to say “but that doesn’t really matter, given all the good times we had, does it?” It doesn’t make you feel bad for having invested time into people and things you care about.

While Digimon Adventure: Last Evolution Kizuna was not perfect, and not the sendoff I wanted, it was okay. It was a love letter to the series, and it had a great deal of depth to it I’ve not seen in an Adventure story since my childhood, and at no point did it make me wish it hadn’t happened...and honestly I think that’s exactly perfect. That is exactly the message it was trying to convey.

At the end of the day, perhaps Agumon and Gabumon are gone, for now, but just because they left, it doesn’t mean they took their memory with them.

To quote the translated lyrics of Butterfly, by the late Koji Wada, which began each episode of the original Adventure:

“After an endless dream, in this miserable world That's right, maybe not using common sense isn't so bad after all Even with these awkward wings, dyed with images that seem to stay I'm sure we can fly, on my love”

[theuntamednarrator]

#3 for Story! (MDZS getting to know u asks)

questions from here

Bring back Jin Zixuan. Kill Jiang Cheng.

You can bring one character back to life, but you must pick someone else to die in their place. Would you do it? How would this effect the story?

Okay so I already brought back Cangse Sanren for a happy ending let's try for something a little more devastating. I am in the mood to hurt myself emotionally. Sorry friend, I don’t know if this is what you wanted.

JZX rushes off as per canon but this time JYL with her canon my-WWX-spidey-senses-tingling grabs JC's arm and asks him to go with her husband because she has a bad feeling

JZX is waiting with JC and JYL for WWX's arrival at JinLinTai, which is where JGY finds them after ugly cousin takes off with the Lan  and Jin disciples

JZX and JC arrive at Qiongqi Path just as UC and WWX are about to come blows

This time, when WN moves to strike, JC is close enough to act

He throws himself in front of the blow meant for JZX

JC gets JZX’s final words “a-jie is, is still, waiting for you”

JZX catches him as he collapses and it’s the Nightless City JLY-dying scene except with JZX as JC and JC as JYL. Also JZX doesn’t push WWX

◇◇◇

First way it goes is that the rest of the plot goes pretty much as it did in canon except JC is not at Nightless City so LWJ has nobody but himself to hate if WWX still goes over the cliff which he absolutely does if JYL somehow still manages to make it to Nightless City and dies

JGY still needs to find a way to kill off JZX so probably makes sure that happens at Nightless City as well (unless JZX has to stay alive in this hypothetical, in which case JGY probably pulls a post-canon LWJ where his older brother is SL but in such deep mourning that he takes over as acting Sect Leader and Chief Cultivator)

Jin Ling is raised entirely by the Jin and is therefore 50% more diplomatic and 90% more miserable

Without JC and with Lotus Pier still recovering it’s laughably easy for JGS and JGY to absorb Yunmeng Jiang into Lanling Jin’s territories

Their next sect leader is the closest thing to an heir that Lotus Pier has afterall!

There’s a lot more territory to go around and JGY could frankly use the help so MXY is treated very well and never feels the need to reenact the Yiling Patriarch to exact revenge

Possibly JGY marries MXY to a Jiang/Meishan Yu/Baling disciple and sends his brother to Lotus Pier as his proxy

NHS’s alternative revenge plot is betrayed, he is either executed or exiled and JGY seizes Qinghe Nie as compensation for their sect leader's treachery

LWJ stumbles across Yi City and the mess that is XY while going where the chaos is. He rescues a-Qing and XXC

This is a lot harder without the groundwork exposing all of JGY’s crimes and in the end they’re not successful

LWJ confronts LXC with his suspicions about JGY based on some things XY said beforehe died

LXC looks at what’s happening and decides they need to confront JGY

JGY locks LXC up the same way Qingfeng-jun locked up Madam Lan, which LXC agrees to provided JGY promises not to hurt LWJ

LWJ takes LSZ and LJY and flees, meeting up with XXC and a-Qing near Yi City

The five of them retire to Baixue Temple and start the orphanage/cultivation school songxiao dreamed of (SL will join them later)

They watch helplessly from afar while JGY governs the united sects

◇◇◇

Second way it goes is that WWX is so distraught over killing JC that he lashes out like he does against the minor cultivators outside Nightless City

Everyone within a hundred metres is pinned to the ground and slowly suffocating while WWX sobs over JC’s body

WN tries to get him to leave but WWX screams at him to go away “what should I do now? what should I tell my sister?”

WN goes back to Burial Mounds to get WQ in the hopes that she will be able to help

This is not a happy ending

Meanwhile LXC, LWJ, and JGY come looking for their disciples and stumble upon the scene

LWJ and LXC manage to dispel the resentful energy with xiao/guqin and in the process discover SS and the evidence of the hundred holes curse on him

From JZX they hear about how UC was attacking WWX and WWX was defending himself and lost control

Happy ending would be everyone realising that SS and JGY had planned the ambush and confronting him before it escalates

JGY realises this and has to think quickly. He announces that SS must be in league with WWX. He pulls an NHS and yells for LXC to lookout! and LXC stabs SS, who looks very betrayed for three seconds before he dies

WWX allows himself to be restrained but just laughs when they demand a lock on his spiritual power because there’s nothing to lock (he doesn’t have to worry anymore about revealing the core transfer because JC is dead and can’t find out)

Everyone is horrified but ofc JGY is just like “well but what about the stygian tiget amulet? that’s more powerful than a core you should hand it over.”

WWX agrees to give it to LXC. JGY eventually convinces LXC to give it to him to study

JYL collapses in grief when her brothers are brought in, one is chains, the other in a shroud

LWJ goes to the cell where WWX is being held and begs him to let him help but WWX is lost in his grief and tells him to “piss off”

LWJ leaves and goes to the Burial Mounds where he rescues not only a-Yuan but all the other Wen remnants as well. He takes them to Yunmeng since - with all the chaos over JC’s death - no one is likely to notice twenty civilians showing up out of nowhere

While he’s away there’s a trial and the Jin demand that WN and WQ surrender themselves as well. Much as in canon they announce that they’ve killed the three demonic scourges

LWJ loses it and nearly kills JGS, JGY, JZX, and a bunch of other people at the conference

He still gets the lashes and three years seclusion

By the time LWJ emerges from seclusion the Jin have taken over Yunmeng in Jiang Yanli’s name as Young Madam Jin. Granny and Fourth Uncle are worried about discovery so Lan Wangji takes on a-Yuan as a disciple except he’s much older now and the war is long over which means questions. He pulls it off with LXC’s help but it’s a close call

By the time NMJ dies and NHS hatches his revenge plot the Jin are far more powerful than in canon. Jin Guangyao has, by then, managed to bump off UC, JZX, and JGS

JGY has tried using threats against JYL and WQ to make WWX help with their experiments but he refuses

He doesn’t really need much help though since he has the amulet and XY

They probably end up killing WWX and WQ around the time JGY and XY successfully create their first fierce corpse OR they leave them locked up below JinLinTai for a decade and a half

If they live, NHS’s revenge plot basically relies on him and MXY somehow breaking WWX out of the cells while LWJ is around to find him and be pulled into the investigation

If they die, the resurrection and post-resurrection go pretty much as per canon except after the second siege of the Burial Mounds they go to Cloud Recesses not Lotus Pier, since Lotus Pier is occupied territory

This is also not a happy ending but less unhappy than the first one

[logicalbookthief]

Game Night

So I actually had most of this written before 15x18, and then the episode gave us great Maggie + B team moments, so I figured, well, now I have to deliver. 

Featuring drunk interns, Schmico, canon-compliant Jaggie (barely but for the sake of, yanno, canon) and teeny-tiny hints to potential future Caggie because @schmicoismysunsword has convinced me it ships.

Now cross-posted on ao3!

Maggie doesn’t make a habit of mixing her professional life with her personal one. Aside from the fact that her sisters work at the same hospital as she does, as does her boyfriend, and her ex-- Look, the point is, Maggie tries to keep her private life a private one, albeit not with the passion of Dr. Bailey. 

Just -- she has the unfortunate tendency to babble. Aloud. To anyone nearby, who might be listening.

Which meant unintentionally venting to interns, who were always around, and always eager to listen. It starts with Parker, who, if not sworn to secrecy, at least has the decency to pretend he isn’t hanging off every word that comes out of her mouth. Schmitt is one of the more eager of the bunch and he happens to be on her service today. 

“Game night,” she mutters long-sufferingly. “Why tonight, when Meredith and Amelia are busy, and apparently, I don’t have enough of a life where I have any excuse to be somewhere else.” 

“Oh, right, the football game is tonight. Nic-- Dr. Kim mentioned that was a thing-- a thing Dr. Avery does,” Schmitt stutters, casting some furtive, flustered looks her way. Honestly, Maggie isn’t paying attention.

“I hate when I have to pretend to care about sports on TV. You know what else is on tonight?  The Magicians. But you don’t see me making a night of it with friends.” Not that she has any, apparently. At least, any without kids or prior commitments. 

Maggie deflates, more self-conscious than she means to be. “April enjoyed watching sports. Or maybe she was better at pretending than I am...”

Something dejected in her tone must spark a bit of nerve in Schmitt, who clears his throat. “Hey, you could -- uh, you could come out with us tonight,” he says, shrinking a bit under her stare. “Uh, if you wanted.” 

“Us?” she echoes critically. 

“Oh, um, well there’s me, Doctors Helm, Qadri, Parker--” All interns, Maggie mentally concludes, at the exact moment Schmitt realizes he’s asking an attending to tag along with his friends. 

“Never mind, it--” Finding an extra burst of nerve, Schmitt spews out in a rush, “It’s trivia night at this pub we like and you’d make a great ringer.”

Then he goes on ahead to the next patient on their rounds, as Maggie blinks. Has she sunk so low to consider to hanging out with a couple of kids? 

Except, she thinks with a wince, that sounds exactly like something Kiki would’ve said to her. After all, it isn’t as if the interns are that much younger than she is. Maggie’s so far ahead it only feels that way. She was always the kid to talk to the adults rather than friends her own age. And when she attended her first year of medical school still in braces while her peers were all adults, she had no choice but to grow up fast. 

Sacrificing one night of professional integrity probably wouldn’t tarnish her career forever. And a trivia night is exactly the sort of brain flexing she would prefer over an evening of her male coworkers yelling about a ball not making it over the right line. 

“What happens outside of the hospital, stays outside of the hospital,” Maggie springs on a stunned Schmitt, ending any further discussion with a firm glance. “I’ll be there at 7.”

“Dr. Pierce, if you don’t mind me saying so,” Qadri begins, and then, with the utmost reverence, “You fucking rock at trivia.” 

Schmitt and Parker whoop in agreement. 

“I do,” Maggie asserts, flushed with victory. And it’s probably the jalapeno poppers, too.

“I can’t believe you argued with the guy asking the questions,” Schmitt admits. “And you won.”

“Well, if you don’t have an encyclopedia knowledge of Happy Potter,” she preens. “Don’t try me.”

Helm returns with the celebratory round of shots, including one for her. Is it unethical to take shots with your interns? While on the clock, yes, definitely. Then again, it’s a little unethical to sleep with interns, too, and yet--

Maggie downs the shot. 

Parker hisses as the burn of alcohol slides down his throat. “I need at least three more of those after the study session I pulled last night,” he says, winded. 

“Right, your intern exams are coming up.” A swell of fondness rises in her chest as she remembers toiling over her textbooks, the ease of assessment, the pride of passing with high marks. “You guys excited?”

A chorus of groans answers her question. Oh, right. Not everyone was a child prodigy who gloried in tests. Maggie flinches and figures to hell with it, she’s already in this deep. She orders the next round of shots. 

“I’ve read so much I wore out my contacts,” Schmitt mumbles, his cheek plastered against the table. 

“Did you fall asleep wearing them again?” Taryn huffs at his miserable nod. “Dude, you’re going to go blind.”

“And fail your exam,” Parker adds, prompting another groan. 

Maggie has the weird urge to pat his head consolingly. Luckily, Qadri does it instead. “At least if you fail you have a hot surgeon boyfriend to support you,” she mutters enviously. 

“You could be a house-husband,” Helm proposes, raising her glass at Maggie and Qadri. “Because it’s 2019 and that’s equality.”

Schmitt seems to consider this seriously.

“You wouldn’t have to shave fish,” Qadri tacks on, wrinkling her nose. “No offense.”

It takes a full minute for Maggie to realize the remark is directed at her. “Oh! None taken,” she says quickly. “I take no responsibility for that exercise. Or the smell.”

“Which still hasn’t come out of my hijab,” Qadri mourns. Seeing Qadri look any amount of sad, Maggie decides suddenly, should be a crime listed under do no harm. 

“I’m sorry,” she offers. “I’ll make Jackson buy you a new one!”

For some reason, that sets them into a fit of giggles.

“Drunk Dr. Pierce is the best,” Parker declares, and then blushes, bright and splotchy. “Except for, uh, sober Dr. Pierce. She’s the most wonderful, uh--”

“Careful, don’t hurt yourself,” says Helm, wryly.

“Sober Dr. Pierce would be at home, pretending to care about sports,” Maggie scoffs. 

“With Link, Dr. Avery and Dr. Kim?” Dahlia grins. “Sounds like a dream.”

“Pretty sure we’ve all had that dream,” Levi snorts. 

“Uh, hello?” Helm pulls a face, jerking a thumb at herself. “Lesbian.”

“Everyone except Taryn has probably had that dream,” he amends. 

“Her, and me,” Maggie says blandly. Alcohol loosens her tongue almost as much as bullies and outrage. “As if our free time isn’t limited enough by his projects, and my environmental research, now Jackson’s gone and bonded with his new buddy Link, who loves sports, and camping, and nature, and -- bikes, I guess?”

“Nico says Link’s got a man-crush on Dr. Avery,” Schmitt whispers in what’s not really a whisper. Parker snorts messily into his drink, which she finds weirdly endearing.

“Please tell me Kim also has one of those secret bro handshakes with Link?” Maggie begs.

Schmitt nods. “Yeah, no, they do. He tried to show me it once, but I, um, accidently hit his chin with my open palm.”

Fits of laughter overcome the group while Schmitt flushes. “Aw. Did you kiss it better?” Parker wheedles. 

“I don’t kiss and tell,” says Schmitt, tight-lipped. 

“You do so,” Helm snorts, shoving him in the chest.

“Hey,” says Qadri, noting how Maggie’s spaced out. “At least if he’s watching sports and -- I dunno, crushing beer cans? -- with Dr. Link and Levi’s ortho god, then you don’t have to act like you want to hear about baseball.” 

“Football,” Parker corrects. 

“There’s a difference?” Qadri wonders. 

Maggie would try to answer, except the implication has finally sunk in. “His ortho god?” she asks, gesturing skeptically at Schmitt. 

“Yuh huh. Dr. Kim is his boyfriend,” Helm shares with relish. 

“Oh!” What she means to say is congrats, yet what emerges is a clumsy, “Wow. Good job.” 

Schmitt only shrugs. “I don’t know how,” he confesses in a slightly dazed tone. “Sometimes I think I died in that freak windstorm and this is just the last of my synapses firing off one last wet dream.”

“Dude, that’s dark,” Parker murmurs. 

“I haven’t slept or had sex in...” Schmitt pauses, clearly wracking his brain. “What’s today?”

“Preaching to the choir,” Maggie mutters. Huh, maybe that has something to do with her mood. 

“Oh, God,” Dahlia exclaims, as if she just cracked the code. “What if that’s why. What if Link is sleeping with Dr. Avery??” 

Parker nods sagely. “That makes sense.”

“Oh, God,” Maggie echoes. After a couple shots of tequila, the theory seems totally plausible. “Oh, no, what do I--”

“Don’t worry,” Schmitt interjects, radiating a suspicious amount of calm. “Link is too busy fooling around with Dr. Shepperd to sleep with your boyfriend.” 

Maggie exhales in relief. Then it dawns on her, what he actually said. “Wait,” she yelps. “What? He’s sleeping with my sister?”

Schmitt blinks. “You didn’t know?”

“No, I didn’t know!” Maggie gapes. “How did you know?!”

“He’s fucking the other ortho god,” Helm and Qadri chime in. 

“Right,” says Maggie, slowly and with effort. “Right, okay, I’ve got to remember that detail for tomorrow. So maybe, only … one more round of shots?”

Helm’s eyes light up. “Dr. Pierce is the coolest,” she declares, and the rest unanimously agree. 

Maggie Pierce has never been named the coolest anything -- the most impressive, sure, and the most talented by far -- so she can’t help the thrill that shoots through her, headier than any glass of alcohol.

“We’re taking a Lyft.” Parker has emerged as de-facto leader of the drunk brigade, voted in as least likely to order an axe-murderer for a driver. “Levi, you in?” 

Schmitt shakes his head, wincing as it jostles his precarious balance. “Nico said he would pick me up if I wanted.”

Helm snickers. “House-husband,” she sing-songs at him. 

“Breadwinner,” Schmitt fires back. Neither of these are insults, Maggie notes, uncertain if she should point this out.  

“Ma--” Parker catches himself with another blush. “Dr. Pierce, do you, uh, need a ride?” 

“Hey!” Schmitt says like he’s had a full-on brainblast. “You can wait with me and Nico can get you, too.”  

“Really?” Maggie perks. It saved her the trouble of calling anyone liable to embarrass her; namely, either of her sisters or worse, Karev. “That would be fantastic.”

“Sure, he’s already at Jackson’s place,” Schmitt replies confidently. If she were slightly more sober, Maggie doubts that logic would hold up to scrutiny. As it is, it makes perfect sense to wait for Schmitt’s ortho god to drop her off at the place he drove in from.  

Turns out, Dr. Kim is a sexy sight to behold, even with a proprietary arm wrapped around Schmitt, who’s too busy mumbling grateful nonsense into his shoulder to notice the adoration in his boyfriend’s gaze. 

If he is surprised to catch Maggie in a similar state of inebriation, Kim has the decency to make no mention of this. Instantly, he’s her new favorite attending-level doctor. He is also a gentleman, offering Maggie his hand as she clamors into the backseat of his car, all the while still steadying Schmitt with a hand clasped over his waist. 

Maggie marvels at the coordination and strength, wonders if he could carry them both simultaneously, should the need arise.

“He’s awesome at carrying people,” Schmitt brags, meaning that, whoops, she said that aloud. 

Kim chuckles. “Thanks, babe,” he says, wryly. “But at the risk of oversharing, maybe don’t go into detail.”

“What, that it’s a sex thing?” Schmitt says in what he clearly believes is a whisper for their ears only, before he collapses back onto the seat, supremely self-satisfied. At exactly the same volume, he adds, “See? I can be discreet.”

“Great job,” Kim snorts, unimpressed. And yet unable to resist pressing a kiss into his boyfriend’s brow before he starts up the engine. They’re cute, Maggie thinks blearily, and hopes she managed to keep the thought inside her head. 

Judging by the grin Kim shoots her out of the corner of his eye, she probably didn’t succeed. 

Jackson looks surprised to see Nico at his door again, not that long after he left. “Hey, man. Did you forget something?”

“Nope,” says Nico, cheerily. “Just doing a drop-off.”

“You--” Jackson stares in bewilderment, until Nico moves aside, allowing his passenger to sidestep his bulk. “Mags?” 

Maggie stumbles to the door, using one of his sturdy biceps for balance. “Thanks for the lift, Kim,” she waves over her shoulder.

He nods, still smirking as he walks back to his car, away from the bewildered Jackson.

“Mags, are you -- you good?” He hovers close behind as she carefully navigates the stairs, forgoing the temptation of the couch for the queen-sized bed. 

“I,” Maggie begins, slurring with great dignity. “Fucking rock at trivia.” 

The morning-after is almost worth the hangover. Watching Jackson try to puzzle out what she got up to last night -- and exactly how Dr. Kim fits into the picture -- is too funny, since Maggie deigns to tell him only the bare minimum, lest she look as silly as she feels when she walks into work with a lingering stuffiness.

“Wow. You look as though you need at least a double-shot,” says a familiar voice, rippling with sympathy, but also a fair bit of humor. “Good thing I got you a triple.”

Maggie stares blankly at Kim and at the to-go cup suddenly placed in her hands. Truly he is a kind and benevolent ortho god. “What’s this for?” 

Kim grins. “Last night my boyfriend went on about how cool Dr. Pierce was, and how hungover you’d be, and that it was his fault,” he explains, obviously quite amused. “And this morning he groggily demanded I make amends by being especially nice to you this morning. Hence, coffee.”

“That is--” A level of thoughtfulness that made all boyfriends, including her own, seem like total jackasses in comparison. Nico smirks as if he knows exactly what she’s thinking and enjoys the high ground very much. “So unnecessarily sweet. Thank you.”

“No problem,” he says, and leans in, a sheepish twitch to his unfaltering smile. “I’d also appreciate if he didn’t get fired over whatever you may or may not have heard last night.”

Maggie laughs. 

“Honestly, I’ve forgotten a decent amount already,” she admits, for the sake of all three of them. “Except the part about Dr. Link and my sister?”

Kim chokes on his sip of coffee. “Ah, you didn’t hear that from me.”

“No, I heard that from your drunk boyfriend,” she replies, picking up the pace to follow his long strides. “But I absolutely need to hear more from you!”

At his reluctance, Maggie pulls out her trump card. “I’ll buy you a bagel.”

Nico stops to considers her. “Multigrain, veggie cream cheese?” 

Evidently, Kim has a price. Maggie appreciates in someone who is still, until further notice, her favorite attending.

Petition for more of what 15x18 gave us with Maggie and the interns? And for Maggie and Nico to become friends?? Hire me Grey’s

[stomachflu]

prompt for T /// A /// Z: carey is an emetophile and gets a stomach bug, so she's miserable but sooo turned on. could be solo or carey/killian? OR with any other characters, really.

Could you write a fic where character A is puking while character B is holding her belly and masturbating her ? Thanks

tip jar!

🚫don’t rb/share to non-emeto/sickfic/kink blogs, thanks!🚫

first anon, are we the same person?? because i was literally thinking about this exact concept when you messaged me. hope that you don’t mind that i, uh, took your prompt and ran with it!! (sidenote: i know none of the physiology hcs i put in here are anywhere near canon!)

anyways this fic is very long (nearly 5k) and very nsfw, and has an excessive amount of buildup even for me.

Carey feels it when she first wakes up: this slow, sickly ache in her stomach, her insides churning sluggishly. It’s not bad enough to tell whether she’s truly sick or just suffering from a bit of indigestion, so she rolls over to the empty space on the bed where –

Her girlfriend isn’t there. Right. Killian’s on an important-save-the-world mission, or maybe also the kind where she just has to kill some dudes. It’s unclear, but she’s been gone for the past few days, and Carey misses her like hell, but she’s supposed to be back tonight.

So she just lays there on her back, pulling up her shirt to expose her soft underbelly, where her scales just sort of… trail off, and then stop, leaving an expanse of warm, velvety flesh. Killian loves this, has spent many times kissing her belly or slipping her hands under Carey’s shirt to feel it or sometimes just admiring it, and godsdoes it feel good to be admired by someone like Killian.

She can’t tell, but it feels like her stomach is slightly bloated. Then again, it’s early, artificial grey pre-dawn light trickling in through her window, so she just lazily rubs her belly, trailing two claws gently over the exposed flesh, enjoying the thought of what Killian would do if she was here.

It’s enough to make her wet by the time her alarm goes off, but Carey isn’t sick enough (or turned on enough) to skip training, so she reluctantly scrambles out of bed, pulling her uniform on one piece at a time. Her limbs ache, and getting dressed is actually a slow process for once, like her arms are encased in molasses. Could be that she’s sick, but then again, could be that she just trained too hard yesterday. Which she did, so.

She thinks about when Killian comes home tonight – telling her, my stomach hurt this morning, I almost thought that I was sick, and Killian’s strong arms coming around to encircle her middle and maybe saying, I wish I was there, and, maybe: them making something of it.

Then again, it’s not like her stomach hurts, more like she just feels… weird, and off. And then again,it’s fifteen minutes past her alarm and she’s sitting there thinking about the passionate kinky scenes she could be playing out with her girlfriend, and she is definitely gonna be late for training if she keeps this up.

The cafeteria is oddly empty for this time of morning, but then again, it seems to be built for far more members than are currently employed here, so it’s always a little empty. Carey is actually never in here this morning, but she figures that some food might be a good idea right now (her stomach gurgles obnoxiously, as if to agree), so she grabs something that’ll be easy to digest – a plate of fruit, as it turns out, and takes a seat next to… Taako, actually.

Dude’s sitting alone, which is both weird and par for the course for him. Par for the course, because she knows a loner when she sees one. Weird, because she’s never seen him without his group to back him up, no matter how hard he tries to lose them.

“Hey,” she says, thumping her tray down. “Where’s Magnus? And Merle? Aren’t your buddies coming to breakfast?”

Taako shrugs, cutting off a section of pancakes. “Dunno. Actually I do know, but, like.” He stabs a forkful and shoves it in his mouth before responding. “Magnus is really fucking sick, he’s been puking all night ‘n shit. And I’ve been dealing with that for long enough –” he stabs his fork in the air for emphasis “–so Merle’s looking after him while I get the fuck outta dodge.”

“Oh. Jeez, poor guy. I hope he’s okay.” Carey stabs a piece of fruit with her fork and swallows it down. She’s not as hungry today as she is usually.

“Yeah.” Taako looks tired, but sits up in his seat a little. “Apparently, there’s a flu going around the Bureau? So, like, be careful, I guess.”

“I will. I mean, I will, but Dragonborns can’t get sick, so…” Carey squirms in her seat a little bit. The idea of a flu going around is… enticing, to say the least.

“What, like in an elves-don’t-get-sick-but-actually-we-do kinda deal? Or some other fucked-up bit if physiology that you’ve got going on?”

“The latter. Physically? We don’t, our stomachs are like… We’re meant to keep food down? So Dragonborn can’t actually puke. Like, almost never. All that happens is we just feel kinda gross for a bit.”

Carey has, as a matter of fact, thrown up once in her life, when she took a blow from an enemy’s axe that was so bad she’d collapsed to her knees, retching up bile and blood. She still has that scar, and Killian loves it. Between the two of them, her girlfriend’s only been able to make her gag once, after half an hour of trying with her fingers and any object available. It would be a good skill to have, if she had certain… inclinations.

Other than that, she just gets super fucking nauseous, and she and Killian have plenty of fun with that.

“Jeez. That’s… really weird, actually. Fucked up.” Taako’s actually really quiet after that, playing with his food rather than eating it, and throws away his tray before breakfast ends.

For her part, once she’s alone, Carey realizes that the fruit hasn’t helped her stomach much, which feels like it’s bubbling under her fingers. What if I did get sick, she thinks to herself, and the resulting arousal is almost enough that she sneaks to the bathroom to take care of matters, but she’s saving her libido for when Killian comes home tonight. Sick or not, they can have fun then, so she just goes up for seconds.

Training starts off easy, with some stretches (Carey can’t help but notice how many absent spaces there are in today’s lineup) and then some light boxing, which she’s grateful for, because ever since breakfast, her stomach’s felt weirdly tight, her gym shorts creating an uncomfortable band of pressure around her middle.

Then everybody splits off to do their own style of training – Carey sees Taako pairing off an instructor for spellwork and guesses that Angus must be an unfortunate victim of today’s flu. She’s not sure who she feels more sorry for, Angus or the instructor.

Carey practices some half-hearted flips, but her mind isn’t really on it. She feels dizzy and distracted, and halfway through a particularly tricky maneuver, there’s a sudden sharp pain in her belly. She curls in on herself instinctually, missing her foothold and crashing to the ground.

She lands wrong, knows she’s landed wrong before she has the chance to catch her breath, one arm folded awkwardly under her, the other wrapped around her middle. Carey opens her eyes to a crowd gathered around her and swears quietly, quickly removing the hand that’s on her stomach. She tries to sit up, but the pain racing down her arm from her shoulder tells her that putting weight on it isn’t a good idea.

“Okay, everybody clear out, go back to your routines,” says the instructor, a middle-aged halfling woman. “Carey, are you alright?”

There’s another pain in her middle, more dull this time, and Carey nods. “I’m fine, just… kinda sore from yesterday, I guess? Think I hurt my shoulder, though.”

Stupid, stupid move. She’s usually the best at this, and she can’t afford to be outta commission the way a long-term injury would make her. The instructor just shakes her head and sends her to the infirmary to get ice and come back tomorrow.

She ducks into the bathrooms on the way, stopping at the sinks to splash water on her face and change. The dull cramps in her stomach are coming on and off again, with no discernible rhythm, just a sickly ache. She’d worn a sports bra to training, and her underbelly is showing signs of bloating. To anybody else, it wouldn’t be visible, but Carey knows what to look for.

She stands there for a moment, rubbing her hand up and down the bulge of her stomach before changing and leaning in close to the mirror. Nobody can tell she’s ill, thank goodness – Dragonborn run much, much cooler than humans, and although Carey realizes once she’s back in uniform that she’s been shivering slightly not from being underdressed but from fever, she’s probably still cold to the touch, enough that nobody will notice. A little-known fact is that Dragonborn can blush, and a faint flush is spreading across the scales on her face right now, nearly invisible except to those who specifically look for it.

Carey touches a slightly-shaking hand to her forehead as her stomach does a slow, oily flip. This is probably the sickest she’s ever been, exempting the time she and Killian’d both got food poisoning from a shitty inn in Phandolin (may its residents rest in peace) and had made a night out of it – Killian vomiting while Carey fucked her brains out, nearly ill enough to gag herself.

The infirmary is packed. There’s healers moving every which way, bustling between beds, and the sound of retching seems to come from all directions. A nurse leads her to an empty cot, placing a basin on the bedside table, and Carey shakes her head. “Oh, no, I’m not gonna throw up! I just hurt my shoulder.”

I think. Her stomach isn’t doing too hot, actually, and she’s starting to feel the beginnings of nausea in the pit of her belly. The experience is as hot as it is sickening, and she shifts uncomfortably in the cot, aware of the warmth between her legs. Later, she tells herself.

The nurse heads off to grab some ice, and the figure in the bed next to her draws aside the curtain. It’s Johann, of all people, looking even more pale and sickly than usual.

“Oh…” he says miserably. “I was just wondering… if you’re not sick…. if I could have your basin?”

“Sure thing!” Carey passes it over, briefly entertaining the thought of being sick in a basin with Killian watching. “You’re sick too?”

“Yeah… I’ve been throwing up all morning… and the healers took my basin to clean it… and I’m feeling – urk!” He claps a hand over his mouth, but it’s too late: liquid sprays through the cracks between his fingers, and Carey watches, fascinated, as he retches water and bile into the bowl.

“You okay, dude?” she asks, and he gives her a shaky thumbs-up as a harried-looking healer hands her an icepack and a sling and informs her that the slight sprain should heal in a few days’ time, thanks to her body’s healing properties.

“No clerics?” she asks, and the healer shakes her head.

“They’re all out making rounds. With this bug and all, we’re spread so thin…”

Carey nods in understanding. Her shoulder isn’t anything a hot water bottle and a good massage can’t fix, so she thanks the healer and steps out of the infirmary. Briefly, she considers retiring to her quarters for the day, but it’s nearly lunchtime, and does she –

She does.

Carey is definitely sick and definitely queasy and she is definitely going to pack away an entire plate of spaghetti and meatballs. She thinks about how nauseous she’s gonna feel, how her body isn’t digesting any food right now, how her lunch is just gonna sit in her stomach, churning away, and a pulse of excitement shoots through her.

She has to force herself to eat, though it’s with more gusto this time. Taako doesn’t comment on the sling, just picks at his own meal, so it’s just Carey, forcing herself to swallow down small bites of spaghetti even as her throats keeps trying to close up, until he abruptly pushes back his chair and stands up.

“What are you –” she manages to ask before he vomits all over himself, the table, and his lunch. There’s no warning except for a quiet hiccup the first time, but he retches and brings up a second, equally large wave. Carey can only stare, but Avi grabs him by the shoulders and escorts him away once he finished gagging.

Several employees stop by to clean up the mess on the floor, and Carey’s not prepared for the sudden wave of nausea that washes through her, nor for the arousal that follows. She has to excuse herself quickly, taking off to the bathroom at full speed. Once there, she slams the stall door shut, taking hitching breaths as she rubs her churning belly with one hand.

As a general rule, she’s not into guys, so it’s not Taako or Johann puking exactly that gets her, it’s just – thinking about it being Killian vomiting that much, or maybe what it must have felt like –

Unconsciously, she slips her other hand into her pants, playing with herself as she presses on her lower stomach, enjoying the low gurgles and dull bursts of pain from each push. Despite herself, she manages to get off twice, and as she climaxes a second time, her stomach honest-to-god lurches, and she tastes bile in the back of her throat, and this alone is able to tip her over the edge for round three.

She’d promised to save her libido for Killian, and she has; even after shakily emerging from the bathroom, she’s still well aware of the throbbing between her legs – her nausea is doing a good job of that, especially once she returns to the cafeteria, orders a second plate of meatballs, and tries not to think what the sauce would look like if she vomited it up.

Afternoons are reserved for paperwork, which is good, because Carey is quickly becoming too nauseous to handle more than anything else. It’s a bit exciting – she’s queasy, nauseated, and nobody else knows that she wants to throw up so fucking bad. Her stomach is churning, gurgling so loudly that at one point Avi asks her if she’s feeling okay.

It seems like everybody is ill – even though she’s trying to concentrate, both on her work and on her sick stomach, Carey keeps catching bits and pieces of conversation about who else is down with the flu. Supposedly even the Director is sick, unable to leave her quarters.

At some point after lunch, she starts hiccuping, a process that upsets both her stomach and her shoulder. Hiccups aren’t impossible for someone like her, just rare, but she’s never experienced them as a product of nausea.

The dull cramps are near-constant now and increasing in strength; Carey can’t wait to go home and massage her aching stomach. As is, she slips a hand under her shirt to press on a particularly painful spot and surprised herself when the pressure forces up a small, squeaky burp.

“Wow,” Avi says from two desks down. “I didn’t know that Dragonborn could burp.”

“Me neither!” Carey says. Then: “Actually, I’m not feeling so hot. Mind if I scoot early?” This is part selfish desire on her part, part honest truth: she’s quickly feeling too ill to even stand upright, chills and fever taking her over by turns.

Avi agrees to do the last of her paperwork, and Carey starts the slow trek back to her quarters, both arms wrapped around her sloshing stomach.

The first thing Carey does when she gets home is strip. She’s kind of a no-shirt gal in the first place – she doesn’t even have breasts, there’s nothing to hide – but rules are rules, and “no shirt, no shoes, no service” applies on the moon.

Underneath her uniform, her stomach is massively bloated, distended over her waistband. Carey can’t get pregnant, but if she could, this is what she imagines it would look like. She runs a gentle but firm claw over the curve and is rewarded with another burp, this one longer and louder. A firm press yields a wetter belch and the beginning of a heave, and Carey abruptly stops, clapping a hand over her mouth in surprise.

She waits like that for a moment, expecting more nausea, but her stomach just cramps harder. Face growing hot, she changes into a pair of lace panties that Killian’s partial to, fetches a hot water bottle, and waits.

Thirty minutes later, she’s drenched in sweat, swallowing down increasing waves of nausea, and pressing the hot water bottle to her stomach when the door opens. Arousal courses through her, a pulsating warmth, and she’s swallowing down burps that taste of her last meal, choosing to nurse a bottle of water in the vain hopes that it’ll relieve some of the churning pressure in her belly.

Despite all this, she finds the strength in her to limp to the door, leaving the hot water bottle behind. Her girlfriend is covered in blood and sweat, but her eyes light up when she sees Carey, and she scoops her up and tosses her in the air the way they always do when one of them arrives home.

It’s a bad idea with the state of things, though, and Carey cries out as her stomach heaves and pain shoots through her bad arm. Killian quickly sets her on the floor, holding her at arms’ length.

“Babe, what’s wrong?”

Carey keeps her mouth closed until she’s sure that her throat will stop spasming with half-suppressed heaves, one hand pressed to the front of her snout. “I’m… not feeling so hot,” she confesses. “There’s a flu going around.” She shifts so that the bulge of her belly is visible to Killian, placing one hand on it suggestively. “Actually, I’m feeling really sick.”

“Holy shit,” Killian breathes, reaching out a blood-covered hand and quickly yanking it back, like Carey is too precious to touch like this. “Do you wanna…”

“Yes,” Carey breathes, taking Killian’s offered hand and standing up. “I’ve been waiting all fucking day, are you kidding me?”

“Okay! Okay, uh, lemme…” Killian rubs the back of her neck with one hand, thinking. “Lemme shower first, if you can wait that long? I’ll, um. Leave the bathroom door open if you need it.”

That must be a testament to how bad she looks, and a bolt of desire runs through Carey. “Okay, sounds good!”

Carey sits on the edge of the couch, twitching with nervous energy, but five minutes after the shower turns on, nausea swells in her belly again, and the way her throat tightens in an almost-gag makes her feel like the bathroom is genuinely the better option. She stumbles into a spot by the toilet, kneeling like she’s seen Killian do, staring into the water below. Saliva is pooling beneath her tongue, and she spits.

The shower turns off, and Killian steps out. “What are y– oh,” she says, expression softening. “Oh, jeez.”

“’M'okay,” Carey slurs, spitting again. “Kinda felt like I was gonna hurl for a second there.”

“Okay, can you – Are you good?”

Carey nods, not trusting herself to open her mouth.

“So do you wanna do this here or go to bed?” Killian asks

“Bed,” Carey says, but when Killian makes a motion to scoop her up again, she pushes her away. “No, no, I – think I’m gonna hmk! puke, don’t… I can walk.” She can, sorta, leaning against Killian, both arms wrapped around her heaving belly.

Usually, when they do this sorta thing on the rare occasions that Carey is sick, they wind up fooling around a bit, Killian soothing away the aches and pains, then collapsing into a heap to sleep. She assumes the position that she usually does, cross-legged on the bed, propped up against the headboard.

“So,” Killian says slowly. “You’re still feeling sick.” It’s a statement of fact, not a question, but Carey nods anyways. “What do you want to do?”

In response, Carey shifts over so that Killian can comfortably sit next to her. “Whatever – whatever you want,” she says, hiccuping slightly at the end of the sentence.

Killian leans in and swiftly kisses her. It’s always an awkward affair, considering the snout and the tusks, but they make it work, and by the end of it, Carey is giggling, which isn’t doing her stomach any favors.

“You should tell me about how you’re feeling,” she says, voice low.

“I’m – I’m really nauseous,” Carey says, voice wobbling a bit. “Like, I woke up, and my stomach felt off? Like kind of bubbly and gross, and I was already a little bit bloated?”

Killian slides a hand over Carey’s soft belly, fingers splayed out. The width of her hand is large enough that it covers her entire stomach, and Carey sighs as she feels the bubbles and churning under Killian’s hand. “Like that.”

Killian’s touch is enough to bring up one of the burps Carey’s been trying to hold down, and she lets out a muffled “Urp!”

A blush spreads across Killian’s face. “Jeez, babe.”

“Yeah, and then there’s – BRUUURP! that,” Carey says. “Been holding them in for you.”

“Let ‘em out,” Killian says, pressing in a little on Carey’s stomach and visibly enjoying the resulting gurgles.

“Yeah, so, get this – I hurt my arm in training 'cause my stomach was cramping super bad, and you’ll never believe what the infirmary was like…” Carey started telling her about her day, the story intermingled with belches and moans as the pressure in her stomach grows more, not less, painful. At one point, she has to stop completely and muffle a series of burps into the crook of Killian’s neck, each one bringing her closer and closer to gagging.

Killian kisses her again, and then she does gag against her girlfriend’s lips, her tongue arching against the roof of her mouth as the nausea washes over her.

When Killian pulls back with a self-satisfied smile, there are thick strands of saliva connecting their mouths. “Hot.”

“I – I know, right?” Carey’s throat keeps hitching with tiny half-gags, and when Killian shifts, helps her so that she’s lying on her back, facing the ceiling, she thinks, maybe now she’ll help me bring something up, but, much to her surprise, Killian starts with her injured shoulder, pressing featherlight kisses to the throbbing joint. Her strong hands press against the bruise, soothing away the ache that Carey hasn’t even noticed over the pain in her stomach.

Still, she squirms uncomfortably, mindful of the way her stomach sloshes. “Babe,” she moans. “I’m… feelin’ really sick. Please –”

Carey breaks off with a gasp as Killian kisses a path from her throat down to her underbelly, drawing a few light burps from her lips. She slips a hand between Carey’s legs, pausing to marvel at how wet she is already, and uses her other hand to rub her belly.

“I’m – hrmf!” Carey’s stomach lurches, and she dry-heaves. “I’m real close.”

To vomiting or coming, she doesn’t know, but Killian nods, shifting Carey so that she’s sitting in her lap, resting her chin between the horns on either side of her head. She keeps one hand on her belly still, and Carey’s slick enough that she easily can slip two fingers inside her with little testing.

Killian quickly establishes a rhythm – not fast and not slow – and Carey shivers as she ghosts the pad of her thumb over her clit, pressing light kisses to the back of Carey’s sweaty neck. “Is this okay?” she asks, massaging her stomach with her free hand.

“Y-yeah, I just –mmMURP! – Can you press harder, mayb–” Carey is cut off by another sickening retch, and she lets her mouth hang open, drooling over the soft swell of her distended belly.

Killian doesn’t need to be told twice, increasing the pressure on Carey’s stomach, causing her to gag several times, tasting bile in the back of her throat. She’s shaking with fever and quivering under Killian’s affections, her legs trembling as Killian picks up speed.

Killian pushes on her stomach, and Carey barely has any warning before she climaxes, head snapping back and keening as a wave of nausea washes over her. She doesn’t even have time to take a breath before Killian pushes again, harder this time, and she retches hard, a torrent of vomit splattering onto the bedspread.

“Holy shit,” Killian breathes, and Carey chokes on another retch. The second wave brings up even more than the first, but she’s too weak to even lift her head, so she just vomits onto herself, sending a wave of chunky puke down her front, forming a warm pile in her lap.

Killian’s pressing soft kisses to the back of her neck and she stays like that for a moment, head bowed, gurgling retches issuing from her throat, spitting threads of thick saliva into her lap. She’s shaking still, Killian teasing her through the fabric of her underwear, drawing tiny aftershocks out of her.

“Think you have any more in you?” Killian asks after a moment, removing her hand from Carey’s belly.

“I – yeah. Yeah,” she breathes, replacing Killian’s hand with her own. Her stomach is still churning and gurgling, whatever food she has left sitting too heavily to be comfortable. She grits her teeth as another cramp runs through her.

“Wanna – y'know. Puke on me?” Killian asks breathlessly. In response, Carey shifts so that she’s facing her, pressing a quick kiss to her lips but drawing back almost immediately as vomit rises in her throat.

It’s more difficult this time without any pressure on her bloated, aching belly, and she barely manages to bring up a small mouthful of vomit before a series of dry retches scrape her throat.

Killian reaches towards her, presumably to help out, but Carey shakes her head miserably. She wants to get it all up and she wants to do it herself, so she pushes Killian into a lying position, leveraging herself above her on shaky arms.

Her stomach really doesn’t like that, and Carey urps up a few more mouthfuls of vomit. She closes her eyes, lets nausea wash over her in sickening waves, and then gags once, twice, and barely has time to part her lips before her belly lurches and a massive gush of puke splatters onto Killian’s chest.

She retches a few more times, bringing up thinner, more watery streams as Killian gasps, and then collapses next to her girlfriend, panting.

“Done?” Killian asks, pressing her hand to Carey’s belly suggestively.

Carey burps, not even bothering to raise her head. “I… I don’t know. I think so?”

“Wanna shower and find out?”

To no one’s surprise, Carey finds that she’s very partial to that idea.

Under the warm water, Killian teases another orgasm out of Carey, and is well on her way to another when the nausea returns. Carey’s leaning against her girlfriend, face pressed into the crook of her neck – her legs are too shaky to hold her up, and when she’d tried to slip a hand between Killian’s legs to return the favor, Killian just shook her head, saying that tonight was about her.

She barely has time to warn, “Gonna puke,” when her throat contracts and she retches up a wave of watery vomit all down Killian’s back. Her stomach heaves against Killian’s, slippery and wet, and she finds herself emptily gagging and burping again and again until she tilts her head up and drinks deeply from the showerhead.

The water barely has time to slosh uncomfortably inside her stomach before Carey burps wetly and it comes gushing out in two massive waves.

“There,” she says once her stomach finally feels empty, pressing herself up against Killian. “Now I’m done.”