#only to be like 'oh shit now i have irreversible damage to these areas of my body'

[asmotheavatarofhorny]

💙In Love With a Beast

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! Part of the Master!MC saga/series !

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⚠️ Warnings:

• Blood + gore.

• Panic (Lucifer)

• Lucifer x GN!MC

• Hc that demons can smell human emotions

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“Lucifer!” Screamed a voice. A voice that Lucifer had known all too well. His head shot up from his desk and before he knew it he was running- no. Flying towards the voice in question.

The air around him seemed to bow down and whisper to itself at his very presence. It was deafening, assaulting his ears as he flew towards you at an ungodly speed. Demons around him did the same, staring in awe at how he moved perfectly, the only thing on his mind was his human. His Master. You.

He was almost annoyed at how you didn’t bother to summon him properly, and instead opted to scream his name. You thought of it as a game, he assumed. ‘How Fast Can Lucifer Get To Me Before I Do Something That Will Cause My Untimely Death Or Injury?’ It irked him that you thought it was acceptable to toy with him in such a way. To play such frivolous games with the Avatar of Pride himself, but that was your appeal after all. What kind of a servant would he be if he didn’t entertain his master?

After a seemingly excruciatingly long sprint (which had only amounted to a few minutes), he found you. He had followed your scent, almost like a dog. You smelled like raspberries with a hint of lemon and sugar. Like a refreshing lemonade that was the only thing keeping him from melting in the blistering hot human world sun on a summer day. It was the smell you took on when you felt a certain emotion; playfulness.

‘So you do think of it as a game,’ Lucifer thought to himself, feeling the dark skin under his eye twitch with the realization.

You were stood next to some lesser demons, much closer than Lucifer would prefer you to be. He looked you up and down quickly, your knees were covered in… dirt? There was some red substance on your face and—

The smell of pennies.

Coming from you.

You were bleeding.

Suddenly Lucifer felt a fire burning inside of him he hadn’t felt in a long time. He felt pure unbridled wrath boiling inside him, a raging inferno so hot it would take at least a thousand years to put out.

Before he could stop himself he ran towards the lesser demons surrounding you, bearing his fangs like a beast, his demon form flashed; sending a blinding light through the area. A deep red liquid squirted from the lesser demons head like a fountain as he dug his perfectly manicured nails, curtesy of Asmodeus, into his skull.

The demon went limp and his cries went quiet, but he kept going. He ripped him limb from limb, destroying every piece of him. He did the same for the others, blood further imbedding into his gloves.

He stepped back for a moment, admiring his handy work, before looking to you.

You.

Oh fuck.

Lucifer messed up.

‘You were a human. You weren’t supposed to see these kinds of things. You were sensitive. What kind of damage could this do to your psyche? You could be irreversibly changed from this. Shit, why wasn’t I more careful?’ Lucifer thought, his mind racing.

That was until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Luci, you ruined your coat,” you said, pouting. He glanced over to where you were looking, before seeing a large red stain there, on his coat. “We have to go home and wash it before it’s stained.”

What?

You looked up to him, awaiting his response. Your gaze was the same as always. A soft glow in the dark abyss. Your smell had changed slightly. Now it was more bitter, sickening. It made him want to cry like chopped onions. You were… disappointed? About… his coat..?

He cupped your face, moving so slowly as to not scare you. You didn’t move away. You didn’t even flinch. In fact, you leaned into his touch. Completely content with the fact that he was holding you.

Him.

The one who brutally murdered— butchered these demons in front of you.

He sighed hard, letting his eyes close for a moment.

“Master,” he started, “You really are a strange human.” He let himself crack a grin as you looked up at him with a sly glare.“Come along now,” he picked you up bridal style and positioned you to be more comfortable. “Now, what exactly happened here?”

You leaned your head on his chest, nuzzling into the soft fabric much like a cat. Undoubtedly from the fact that he had put on that cologne you liked this morning. “Hmm..” you moaned lightly, situating yourself in his arms. “I fell and scraped my knee. They were trying to take me to the nurse I think,” Lucifer felt his eyes widen at that statement, “They probably would have taken my lunch money or something though, so I can’t be too sure. I just hate that you ruined your weighted blanket for nothing,” you tousled the fabric lazily with your hands.

“Weighted blanket?” He let himself chuckle a little at your analogy.

“Yeah, look at how it’s stitched too! It’s totally a blanket,” you argued.

“It’s a coat,” he stated, “I would sooner accept you calling it a cape.”

“Cape my ass.”

“Language, Master,” he said with a faux-intimidating glare.

“Okay, mom,” you rolled your eyes playfully, giggling a little. Soon enough, you yawned and your eyes felt a little heavier. The smell of roses hit Lucifer’s nose. The smell of infatuation. Love.

Love for him.

He would never understand you.

How could you be…

In Love With a Beast?

[chaoticharlotte]

Day 3: "bite down on this"

Read it on AO3!

@febuwhump

WAS THAT THE BITE OF '87? (this is not how you're supposed to do this prompt)

Whump Rating: 5/5

==================November 13, 1987==================

Sammy relaxed the moment he heard the jingle of the restaraunt opening. He had heard Withered Foxy rushing the office before the jingle went off. Unfortunately, Steve (he was pretty sure that was Phone Guy’s name; or was it Scott?) had said that he was going to be handling today’s day shift as well, so he was going to be up for over 24 hours. He prepped himself for a long day working security under the pseudonym Jeremy Fitzgerald.

At least he got $20.10 out of his overtime.

==============10:00 AM, Freddy’s Fun Land==============

Sammy groaned as he visited the Prize Corner to talk with Charlie. Only a few people knew the Puppet was possessed; himself, Henry, and another random security guard he couldn’t remember the name of. The two of them had made an agreement that he’d use the music box to indicate he was okay, and if it wound down completely she could come find and help him. He began to regret that system on Night 3, as he couldn’t see the cameras well enough to wind the box with the mask on, but oh well.

“So you’re going to be up ‘til at least 6:00, and you woke up at noon yesterday?”

“Yep. Really wish I’d paid attention to whether I actually needed to come in last night, but oh well. I’d’ve had to deal with the Nightmares last night if I’d stayed home, so it’s not like I could get any sleep anyway.”

“That sucks. Shit, someones coming. Talk to you later!”

Sammy sighed, before continuing on to Kid’s Cove to watch Mangle. He was fairly certain that every animatronic here was possessed at this point, but Mangle had been especially aggressive. Perhaps multiple souls? All of whom hated him? It seemed unlikely, though if he got mistaken for his father...

He was snapped out of his train of thought by Mangle turning on as Kid’s Cove activated. Kids would be coming in soon, so he should leave. Normally he liked kids, but he was normally well rested after sleeping from 6 to noon. Maybe I should switch my schedule to sleeping at noon, so I’m wide awake at night. 

As the kids rushed in to the area, one of them pointed behind him and said “Look mommy, it moves fast!” Sammy whirled around quickly.

Not quickly enough. His dodge backwards as Mangle tried to crush his skull with her mouth got Sammy far enough out of the way to avoid the top of his head being completely removed, but Mangle succeeded in slamming his jaws onto the upper front part of his skull. Suddenly, Sammy was unable to see, and his ears began ringing much harder. No, wait, that wasn’t ringing, that was screaming children. His hand felt a little wet.

==================11:00 AM, Hospital==================

He shouldn’t have left Sammy unsupervised. Now he was in emergency surgery getting his skull stitched back together. The brain damage was irreversible, and Sammy would probably have a completely different personality coming out of surgery. Maybe the anger issues would come back, maybe he would be a completely different person. He’d paid for the surgery of course; he’d have done so even if it was some other employee he had no relation to.

He saw a purple car pull up, and Michael and Charlie got out of it. Well, I guess Michael knows about Charlie now. Charlie rushed into the hospital, Michael following behind at a slower pace because of the light; Nightmare Foxy was able to handle it better than the rest by design, but he still dislike direct sunlight.

“How is he?” Charlie asked.

“The doctors say he’ll likely have a permanent personality change. His frontal lobe was completely destroyed, they say it’s a miracle he stayed conscious with how much blood loss he had.”

“I’m... less certain about the personality change. I’m fairly certain the only thing they use their brain for at this point is automated functions like breathing, they handle their personality with their SOUL at this point to my knowledge.”

A doctor appeared. “We managed a fast stitch of his skull, though we’re not sure how well that will hold. A good chunk of his bone became powder. I hope you’re prepared for lawsuits from many families, Mr. Emily.”

“I expect lawsuits. I don’t know why that malfunction occurred, but it was my responsibility to keep it from harming anybody. I’ll be closing this location. Maybe I’ll reuse the originals in some capacity.”

Michael chose this moment to interrupt. “Would metal guarantee the skull holds? Because I have an old metal bear mask; if you could replace the top part of the skull with the upper half, it is designed to come apart.”

“That would work for reinforcement, but I’d advise speaking to the patient yourself about that idea once he wakes up.”

“Alright, I will.”

About two months later, Sammy was cleared to leave. He would have to enchant the mask to give him eyes, which would be interesting with it riveted to his skull and while he was blind, but he’d enchanted things in worse conditions. This would be comparatively easy.

[theshatteredrose]

Relic Keepers: Awakening of the Red Lily (Chapter 1) - Original Fiction

Title: Relic Keepers: Awakening of the Red Lily

Summary: A 1000 years after an apocalyptic event called the Bombardment, humanity have learnt how to harness the power of mana. Silverleaf Military Academy is a learning centre for Indigo Children, those who have the ability to use Mana. And they are divided into two classes; the Elites, who’s skills make them superior on the battlefield. And Passives, who’s skills do not belong outside of the Academy. Supposedly. Eishirou is classed as a Passive. He is also a Chronicler. Gathering lost information, finding relics, learning about the far-flung distant past is what he does. And he enjoys it. However, his life changes when he gets called out to his first expedition in the field with his new roommate, Zayne – a powerfully protective Elite!

Genres: Young adult, suspense, action, adventure, treasure hunt, scifi fantasy, romance, slow burn romance, gay romance

Notes: Ok, here it is. M y first attempt at an original novel! A little nervous to be honest, but I’ll try my best to be entertaining! I’ll also try my best to keep the chapters under 3k for easier reading. But, you know, things happen. Now, this will be a very long project and I will attempt to maintain weekly updates. I do hope you'll give this story a chance. And I hope you'll enjoy reading~

Ao3 | Wattpad | Inkitt | FictionPress

Chapter 1:

Eishirou huffed a tired sigh to remove an annoying strand of brown hair from his eyes. His eyes, normally a honey brown, were no doubt darken and possibly even bloodshot from staring at a bright computer screen for a few long hours.

He enjoyed his role as a Researcher and Chronicler. But staring at data for hours on end certainly got boring really quickly.

“Eishirou? You’re still here?”

Looking up from his work screen, Eishirou glanced over at his fellow Chronicler and friend.

Reddish brown hair and vivid emerald green eyes. Misaki. He was a good guy, friendly and considerate. Protective. He did have an intimidating glare of death, though. Guy knew how to scare the shit out of newbies, that was for sure. And some of the veterans, too.

“Yeah, but not for much longer, I hope,” Eishirou replied as he returned back to his work screen. “Someone was reported to have messed around with a few archives. I’m just making sure they didn’t actually mess with the data.”

Eishirou didn’t need to look over at Misaki to know that his usual friendly smile had turned into a deep frown. “Someone hacked the data? Do you know who?”

“Nope. Just that someone did.”

“I see,” Misaki murmured. “I will find out then.”

Eishirou wasn’t able to suppress an amused snort when he heard Misaki’s footsteps move away. He felt sorry for them, whoever they were. For a few seconds at least. Messing with the data was a bit no-no.

The information he was inspecting was basic, but needed to be preserved regardless. It was information he had seen all before. He knew it by heart, honestly. So, he would be able to get through it all quickly.

The prestigious Silverleaf Academy, a military university where students possessing mana-infused abilities came to train. It was located in Araluen, a Sanctuary City. Set in the middle of an island, surrounded by a large stone wall. And that was located ten miles from the shore of a vastly inhabitable continent. A continent that was reportedly to have once been as Australia. A place they now referred to as Main Land.

"Be sure to book now for the 1022nd Anniversary of the Bombardment!" the large plasma advertising board on the other side of the information centre robotically sounded, momentarily distracting Eishirou from his work.

Oh, was it that time of the year again?

The Bombardment was the name for an era in time, over a thousand years ago, where several asteroids impacted the earth within minutes of each other. Several large cities were wiped clean from the surface. Millions of lives where taken. Many more to follow in the apocalyptic aftermath. Life as those who knew it back then was irreversibly changed.

Of course, they didn't have the exact time or date when the Bombardment had occurred. Information from that era was largely lost and destroyed. And the information they had uncovered mostly contradicted itself. It was difficult to tell between all the fake propaganda and the truth. Not to mention that ruins seemed to date back further than a thousand years. Ancient. No mentioning of them in any form of text or data.

The common consensus was that the Bombardment happened over a thousand years ago. And had brought modern civilisation to its knees.

It also brought the use and discovery of mana.

The scientific community all agreed on one thing; if humanity had not discovered mana and found a way to harness it, then humanity would have been destroyed, too.

By using mana and infusing it within their inventions, they were able to rebuild society. Restructured cities. Learn how to live off the land. Learning how to harness mana within the human body.

The mana itself was largely a mystery. It was a source of energy. Mostly invisible until it was condensed and concentrated, which would then be presented in a glowing light.

However, the scientific community was divided in regards to where said mana came from. The asteroids? Or were rich mana deposits hidden within the Earth the entire time and it took a cataclysmic impact to reveal them?

There were a lot of…discussions about that topic. And certain scientists would often times get violent and confrontational.

Eishirou didn’t have a preference either way. Far as he knew, both scenarios were likely. And did it really make that much of a difference where Mana came from a thousand years ago? It wasn’t going to affect your average Joe’s way of life.

Those born after the Bombardment were often referred as Indigo Children. They were born with the innate ability to use Mana. And they fell into two categories; Elites and Passives.

Some form of discrimination was still rife amongst the Indigo Children. Elites verses and Passives. Elites are those born with battling abilities. Creating swords or other miscellaneous weapons out of mana. They were the ones who fight against the creatures known simply as ShadowDwellers.

ShadowDwellers were, simply put, abominations. Deformed creatures that also possessed the ability to use Mana. Again, the scientific community was divided with where they came from. Again, the asteroids? Or deep within the Earth itself? Some even believed that they were once humans themselves, mutated by mana in some way.

Silverleaf Academy had several Elite Squadrons that ensured the safety of students and residents alike.

Eishirou was a Passive Indigo Child. He didn’t fight in battles. Though, he could enter the battlefield if necessary. Only as a Medic, however. He possessed no fighting skills whatsoever. What skills he did possess was useful for research and archaeology.

He was a bit of an oddity, if one went by the Academy Hierarchy. He was a Chronicler, someone who dealt with gathering information and ensuring its safety for future generations. So, many Elites would refer to them as Paper-Pushers.

But he was also a Medic. And according to the Hierarchy, he was off-limits. No harm was to come to medics, no matter what. Anyone who dared to harm a medic deserved severe punishment.

So, Eishirou was both a nobody and someone of immunity.

In short, the Academy Hierarchy was stupid.

Chroniclers and Information Gatherers were important, however. The ‘modern’ civilisations from a thousand years ago seemed to have believed that they were the pinnacle of evolution. And they possessed all the information that there was to be known.

And yet, many of the ruins that have been discovered date back potentially millions of years. Civilisations deep underground and within the seas. Places and locations that were believed to have been impossible during ‘modern’ civilisation.

Either they were completely arrogant. Or completely ignorant.

A mixture of both, perhaps.

Scientists of today refuse to make the same mistake. They wish to document everything, no matter how controversial or ‘wrong’ that information appeared to be. Fact over fiction. Truth over lies.

Well, the document seemed perfectly intact. Done! He was a free man.

A buzzing sound from his communicator, however, stopped him dead in his tracks. Typical.

With a drawn-out groan, Eishirou slumped back into his chair and picked up his communicator. He didn’t need to see who was ringing him to know who it was. “Prof, you’re slipping. I didn’t even get my butt out of the chair this time.”

The hologram scene of Professor Chryses chortled. “I’ll try harder next time.”

As long as he didn’t catch him in the shower again. If he did, Eishirou was just going to ignore it. No matter how many times he rang.

“Let me guess; you got an assignment?” Eishirou asked.

The middle-aged man on the other side of the communicator nodded. With his dark sun-burned skin and deep wrinkles around his eyes, he was your typical off-the-grid researcher. The best at the Academy, to be completely frank. And he was Eishirou’s mentor.

“That’s right. And you’re coming with me.”

That surprised Eishirou. The only field research experience he had was helping in the restoration of relics and runestones that Jacob and his fellow researchers had discovered. He hadn’t been away from the city before.

“Really? Where to? Are we heading for Main Land?”

Jacob shook his head. “No. A small but tropically dense island thirty miles from here. It should be a rather short assignment. A damaged stone tablet was discovered.”

Ah, that was why he wanted him to join him. That, and he was old enough to start gaining some field experience. “And you need my expertise?”

“Correct,” Jacob smiled. “See you in an hour. Elite Team 3 will be meeting us at the Hanger 12.”

“Elites?” Eishirou repeated in a surprised tone.

“ShadowDwellers had been reported in the area,” Jacob explained simply.

Ah, that explained a lot. Though, there seemed to be an increase in ShadowDweller sightings and occurrences lately. He briefly wondered why that was.

“Right, see you in a bit,” Eishirou returned before he ended the call.

Well, no point dawdling now.

Eishirou grabbed his shoulder bag from the floor of his work desk and stood up. The small door which encapsulated him at his desk slid open noiselessly, allowing him to step out onto the stairs.

“You’re heading out again?” a feminine voice practically whined at him.

He turned to look over at another Chronicler. Long purple hair, dark pink eyes, quite fragile in appearance. Lyvia. She worked full-time within the Communication centre. Her frail body prevented her from joining field missions.

“The ol’ slave driver wants me to join him on an assignment,” Eishirou explained. “A short one, he claims. But we all know what that means.”

Lyvia’s pout quickly transformed into a smile and she nodded. “I heard Elites. Which team?”

“Team 3.”

“Oh!” her expression brightened unexpectedly. “I heard they got a new member. Ernesta practically forced him to join.”

That sounded like something Ernesta would do. She was very mild-mannered, peaceful in some ways. But she was terrifying when angry. Oooh, boy, Eishirou never wanted to get on her bad side.

“You might get to meet him,” Lyvia continued before she gave a telling giggle. “He’s supposedly cute.”

Eishirou rolled his eyes. “I’ll be sure to let you know.”

He bid his fellow Chroniclers farewell as he turned and walked up the pathway toward the exit. He walked past the main Observation Deck and out through the automatic sliding doors. He noted that the Observation Deck was empty. Which was usually a good thing. Nothing untoward was occurring throughout the Academy and city. Whenever the Communicator Commander was there, it meant trouble was about to go down.

Eishirou hadn’t had the pleasure of being on duty when Professor Jalen, or Communications Commander, started barking orders. He was a Chronicler, but he dealt more with the field work. Often aiding Professor Chryses. He only ever used his Chronicler privileges when he needed some classified information. Or just information in general.

He had the ability to access any information at any given time. It was easier within the Communication Centre, but anywhere he could get access to the internet, he could get the information he wanted.

The buzzing of his communicator pulled Eishirou from his thoughts once more. When he pulled it out of his pocket, he half expected to see that it was the Jacob again. Instead he was surprised to see it was his dorm superintendent.

“Katsuto, what’s up?” Eishirou asked as the hologram of a man with a stern expression flickered into view.

“Just informing you that you have a new roommate,” Katsuto stated in his usual brisk and stern manner.

He stopped dead in his tracks. Wait, roommate?

“What roommate?” Eishirou immediately asked. “No one said anything about me getting a roommate!”

Katsuto barely even blinked at his response. “You do now. He’s waiting for you. Play nice.”

“W-wait a minute-!” Eishirou spluttered. But it was useless. Katsuto finished the call on his end and Eishirou was left staring at the screen of his communicator.

He sighed loudly as his shoulders slumped forward in defeat. Asshole. Could have at least warned him a few days in advance. He knew he was to get a new roommate one day, after his old roommate had unfortunately taken ill and had to move to a dorm closer to the medical wing.

But that was beside the point. A bit of common courtesy from Katsuto wouldn’t have gone astray! And he didn’t even mention the guy’s name!

Ugh…

He uttered another sigh and kept walking. Well, there was nothing he could do about it now. He had an assignment to skip off to, anyway. He couldn’t play host for very long. Even so, he hoped the guy was easy to get along with.

After a few minutes of walking, he finally reached the door to his room. He took a minute to gather his composure before he used his key card to open the door. And he stepped inside.

His gaze immediately flickered over to the bed located on the left side of the room. And yup, there was someone there.

He appeared to have been going through his luggage. Tall guy, a couple of heads taller than Eishirou was. So…over six feet. With floppy dark blue hair. His eyes appeared purple. His skin was a light tan. Perhaps it was natural, or it meant that he had spent quite a lot of time outside.

No matter.

“Ah, you’re my new roommate,” Eishirou greeted, gaining the new guy’s attention.

The guy turned in his direction and gave him a thankfully friendly looking smile. “That’s me. You must be Eishirou.”

The door slid closed behind him as Eishirou moved into the room. “And that’s me.”

“The name’s Zayne.”

As Eishirou shook the other guy’s hand in greeting, he noted that he had an Elite emblem on his jacket. He had to fight the urge to do a double-take. Wait, an Elite? Why would an Elite be rooming with a Passive? Especially as Passive like him?

Although, he was…kinda cute, he had to admit. He had the body of an Elite; subtle muscles, sleek form, straight back, and oozing with confidence. Hoped he retained that friendliness after learning that Eishirou was a paper-pusher.

“Sorry, can’t stay long to chat,” Zayne suddenly stated with a wry grin. “First day here and I’m already on an assignment.”

“Doesn’t take long, unfortunately,” Eishirou returned with an empathetic tone. Before he, too, grinned. “I have one, too. Where you headed?”

“Hanger 12 for now.”

Wait…

“Ah, what Elite team, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Team 3,” Zayne answered quickly, completely unbothered that Eishirou knew he was an elite without asking.

So, he was the new guy on Elite Team 3? Eishirou wasn’t entirely sure what to feel about that. Some Elite’s don’t like the prospect of acting like bodyguards to Passives.

Well, one way to find out.

“Well…looks like you’re escorting me there,” Eishirou commented, earning himself a confused tilt of the head from Zayne. “I’m a Passive. And you’re going to be acting as a bodyguard for this assignment.”

[whumptasticwednesday]

(Semi) Grown-Ass Man - (Peter Maximoff - X-Men: Dark Phoenix)

!!X-MEN DARK PHOENIX SPOILERS!!

Author’s Note: Hey, LividFigureSkatingLover (Ash) here! I hope you enjoyed the fic posted last week that Jimmy uploaded for me. That was actually something I’d written months ago but we felt like it would be an appropriate beginning fic. This, however, is a fresh fic that I started writing the day after Jimmy and I went to see Dark Phoenix on opening night. Needless to say, we were both disappointed with the critical lack of Peter in this movie. Like, you can’t just yeet your fan-favorite character into the sidewalk and have him carried off the jet in a stretcher without acknowledging anything! Anyways, next week will be Jimmy’s week to upload a fic, so you won’t see me for a while, but I can assure you my next fic is in the works. HINT: It’s addressing the critical lack of Dadneto in this film (although after that I think I’ll be done with the Peter fics for now.) Anyways, enjoy the fic! (This fic is also unedited so if you catch any errors, feel free to let me know!)

Word Count: 5749

It had all felt like an instant. One moment, the X-Men were emerging from their jet to bring Jean Grey home, the next, irreversible and horrific destruction. It all ended with Jean soaring into the sky and disappearing into the clouds with a distraught Scott and an angry and grief-ridden Hank on the asphalt. Charles slumped back into his chair and sighed. Nobody could have expected this. The crushed police cars and house smashed like a Popsicle stick craft project were just white noise to the heavy betrayal, anger, grief, and pain filling the atmosphere. The uncanny silence was only broken when Scott angrily shouted,"what the actual fuck are we supposed to do? Jean can't just, she didn't just, she wouldn't ha-"

"Damnit, Scott, can you shut your mouth for two seconds?!" Hank angrily seethed to the laser-eyed man. "You're not the only one standing here in the wake of Jean's unprovoked carnage. I don't think you can even begin to imagine how I feel right now... at least Jean's body isn't sticking out from a protruding wood spire"

Scott, being an impulsive young man, used every ounce of discipline in his reserve and resisted the strong urge to fire up an argument with Hank, and seconds after seeing Raven's impaled corpse, the fiery retort died on his lips, and it was instead replaced by a sudden realization as to the damage Jean had caused, emotionally and physically. The white noise of destruction was now a heavy screaming siren pounding in everyone's ears. Hank needed something to take his mind off of what had happened, losing his unrequited love due to a selfish impulse from one of his lifelong friends was too much for his mind to process at the moment. Since he couldn't do anything else, Hank did what he did best, took a calculated approach to fixing the catastrophe around him.

"We need to find Kurt and Peter. Scott, come help me... please," Hank trailed off as he turned away from Raven's lifeless body. "Charles, do something with her."

The cold and almost robotic tone from Hank was a sharp, almost eerie, contrast from the distraught tears that, only minutes ago, were streaming down his cheeks. Scott's mind, clouded by his own lovesick thoughts, followed Hank's orders on autopilot. Charles remained silent and observant as Scott and Hank trudged to the wooden remnants of Jean's childhood home in search of Kurt and Peter.

After what seemed like hours of precariously moving rubble and assorted wood pieces, Scott saw a mop of black and blue hair under a cracked 4x4.

"Hank, I think I found Kurt," Scott breathed a sigh of relief.

"Be careful, let's get all this off of him," Hank replied.

The two worked carefully and precisely until all of Kurt's body was exposed. His yellow uniform and his face were dusty and covered in grime and a small amount of blood. Hank gently tapped on the mutant teen's face as Scott hovered over his shoulder. Kurt didn't stay unresponsive for long though, and after a few of Hank's prods, he shot up off the floor with Jean's name fresh on his tongue, unaware of what had transpired after he'd been rendered unconscious.

"W-what? Jean, where's Jean? Is everyone okay?" the words fell out faster than Kurt himself could even process, and his mind hadn't quite caught up with the fact that he'd been crushed under the weight of an entire house.

"Kid, slow down. We'll explain later, okay? How do you feel? Do you know where Peter is?" Scott asked, questions firing faster than intended.

"No, I'm sorry. I can help you look for him though. Let me do something, I swear I'm fine." Kurt shot up off the ground, only to stumble into Scott's unprepared arms.

"Take it easy. Jean collapsed a house on top of you, I don't know how great you'll be functioning at the moment," Hank explained as Kurt nodded slowly with an exhausted and pained wince. "Alright, let's go find Peter."

Scott slung the lanky blue mutant's arm over his shoulder to support his weight as the trio began to search for the silver speedster. Since he moved so quickly it was hard to actually determine what Jean even did to Peter, as their confrontation lasted less than seconds to the average person's eye. The only thing Hank and Scott had seen was Peter being catapulted across the street and out of sight, so neither were all too excited to find out as to how he might be faring.

It took some time, but the three eventually stumbled upon Peter's battle-broken body lying slumped against a tree in a thick wooded area dozens of yards away from the street where Jean had wreaked havoc. Trailing his body was a coarse trail of uprooted grass and dirt, emphasizing the power and distance he'd been hurled across. Peter seemed almost as lifeless as Raven, his body heavily slumped against the tree he'd collided  with, blood streaking his X-Men uniform, face, and silver hair, along with dark dirt blotching his sweaty face, which was pulled up into a pained grimace. His signature goggles were loosely strung in his messily kept hair and one of the lenses was very visibly shattered, an ugly spider-like crack pronounced in the center of the lens.

"Oh my god, Peter!" Kurt let out a strangled cry as he laid eyes on his friend. He tried to stop the sobs as each one wracked his battered and sore body, but he couldn't. This was too much for him to bear.

As Kurt's sobs filled the forest, Hank ran his calculative eyes up and down Peter's body as his mind contemplated what would be the best course of action. He didn't want to risk worsening any external or internal injuries by jostling him in a carry to the jet, but he wasn't all too sure what help he could do with Peter out cold in the woods with no real medical assistance or tools around to help. As Scott tried to calm the ever panicked Kurt, Hank gingerly shifted Peter from his half-upright slumped position to lying flat on the ground. He ripped open the top of Peter's X-Men uniform and scanned the damage; bruises as black and blue as Kurt's hair dotted Peter's pale chest and his upper right shoulder. This wasn't going to be fun to deal with. Hank shot his eyes back to Peter's blood-stained face, hoping that tearing off his clothes would at least elicit some sort of response from the boy. Alas, nothing. As the seconds ticked by, Hank devised the one plan that would end in the least harm to all of them.

"Kurt, I know we're far away, I know you're tired, I know you're injured, but I need you to teleport us back to the jet. We can't move Peter like this, it's too risky, he's too badly hurt and I don't want to make this more painful for him than it has to be. You've gotta do this for us, okay?" Hank explained. He knew the kid's power took energy out of everyone he was teleporting, and with the damage eveyone'd sustained from the battle, it would be too dangerous to have Kurt warp multiple times, Peter wouldn't make it, and judging from his hazy eyes, Kurt didn't have enough energy for more than one teleport anyways.

Anxious scenarios began flooding Kurt's mind as his eyes filled with fear, the words he spoke dripping with self-doubt, "W-what if I can't? What if I mess it all u-up and I warp us halfway into a car and kill us all! H-hank, I can't do it."

Instead of coddling the boy like he normally would have, Hank let the dire situation speak for itself when he bluntly stated, "Kurt, I know you're scared, but Peter might die if we can't get him back to the jet. You've gotta take some faith in yourself and your powers and get us home, okay? Don't do it for me, do it for Peter. He needs you to do this for him."

It may have been the stern yet sincere tone of Hank's words, or hearing outright that Peter might die, but Kurt mustered up enough confidence to say, "alright... for Peter."

Hank shifted Peter into his lap as he joined hands with Scott and Kurt. Kurt silently prayed to God that he wouldn't kill all of his friends by pushing his ability's limits in an already weakened state, and with a last tension filled breath, the group disappeared into a dark cloud, appearing, seconds later, in the jet.

Scott felt extremely disoriented after the warp and his eyes raced around the jet before they landed on Hank's face, "shit. That felt weird."

"Indeed," Hank replied.

"I-I did it," Kurt sighed in relief as his eyelids fluttered closed and he collapsed onto the floor.

"Kurt!" Scott exclaimed.

"He's fine, just overexerted himself. He just needs to sleep for a bit and eat. This happened after his fight in Cairo too. Now hurry up and help me with Peter, he's not doing too hot," Hank explained as he set to work.

------

WOW A TIME SKIP...  At Xavier's School in the weird bunker area where they do X-Men stuff...

"He's still not up. You're gonna have to do something, Hank. He's gonna start healing and I don't think that his shoulder is gonna do it properly with the way it looks right now," Scott stated as he stared blankly at Peter's bloody and bruised body on the gurney.

Hank ran his fingers through his hair as he tossed his glasses onto the lab table. He didn't wanna set the joint without Peter being conscious, for fear he'd spring awake and cause himself even more harm if he took an instantaneous flight response. But, if he waited too long, Peter's enhanced healing would work against his favor and heal the crucial joint in the wrong way. He had to make a decision, and although it posed risks, it was better than Peter sustaining lasting joint damage.

Hank was just about to grab the limb to jerk it back into place when Peter shot up from the gurney with a blood-curdling scream of pure agony. Peter's eyes were hazy, confused, and full of pain as they raced around in search of what was going on and why everything hurt so bad. His eyes eventually met Hank's as he collapsed back onto the gurney, heaving heavy pained breaths into his cut and bruised chest.

"Hank, w-whass happenin, wha happened to me? E-everrythin's blurry and hurts," Peter slurred as tears unwillingly escaped the corners of his eyes. Throbbing, pulsing pain coursed through Peter's seemingly small frame as he started to unwillingly cry out of confusion and agonizing pain.

"Peter, you're at the X-Men base under the school. Jean threw you across the street with her powers and you hit a tree. You are safe and you're gonna be okay. I'm gonna help you, okay?" Hank said slowly to the shaken boy. Peter only gave a tiny pained nod as he bit his lip to try and stifle his crying.

"Can't we give him anything to numb the pain, like anesthesia or even ibuprofen? Setting the shoulder is gonna be excruciating for him," Scott asked, just wanting to lessen the agony for Peter.

"That's the thing, though. His fast healing and super speed are paired with an extremely quick metabolism. Anything we could give him in a normal person's dosage, he would burn right through."

"Can't we just give him a higher dosage?"

"If you wanna risk him overdosing, then sure."

Scott cast sympathetic eyes down onto Peter's terrified face, and although hidden by the signature ruby-lensed glasses, were full of sorrow as he fully realized what Jean had done. He felt nothing but pity for the pure fear and pain the boy was feeling. Peter's mind was racing back to when they had to set his broken leg and he didn't want to go through that again. He felt pathetic, a (semi)grown-ass man crying because he had to get a limb set. His sarcastic and dry-humored subconscious internally retorted: grow a pair!

"I'm sorry, Peter. We're gonna have to do this now. Bite this," Hank said as he dangled a rag above Peter's now bleeding lips. Peter grit his teeth and graciously took the cloth as the only thing to provide a semblance of comfort to the undoubted pain he was about to experience. "Alright, Scott, I need you to hold him down in case this goes South..."

Scott nodded in affirmation as he grabbed onto Peter's other arm and hovered above his already pretty immobile body while Hank took one more tentative glance over the silver-haired boy before locking eyes with Scott and clutching Peter's bicep in one hand and his shoulder blade with his other.

"Do you want me to count down?" Hank asked, knowing full well he would count to 3 but snap on 2. Peter nodded as he scrunched up his face with terrified anticipation, a visible layer of shining sweat collecting on his features. "Okay, one, tw-"

The last sound of 'two' was cut off by the cracking of a limb and Peter's howl and wailing cries of pure agony as he thrashed about violently on the gurney as Scott tried his best to gently restrain him without causing any more pain. Fat and ugly tears were freely streaming down Peter's face as the crippling pain in his shoulder coursed through his body and started to dull into an acute ache resonating from the base of his neck all the way down his bicep. His vision was blurred not only by his salty tears but by the waves of pain and adrenaline attempting to cancel each other out like an ocean current crashing into a reef bay. It was all a bit too much for Peter to handle. He went to curl in on himself, a primal instinct to go to the fetal position was shooting to his mind, yet when he tried, every dulled injury in his torso screamed back an affirmative and defiant: no!

Hank had sent Scott to get water bottles when he heard Peter's defeated and miserable whimper, which sent his own head whipping around to face the boy using his left arm to desperately clutch at his raw and tender torso, which was covered in dirt filled cuts and bruises that were attempting to heal over. Like any mutant power, there was a limit, and it was clear that Peter's advanced healing was taking on way more than it was able to handle, so his body's scattered attempts to heal his numerous external and internal injuries weren't doing him any favors besides exhausting him of what little energy he had.

"I'm sorry, Peter, I know you're in a lot of pain right now but I can't do anything for you but stitch up your major cuts and scan you for internal injuries. You know you can't have the regular pain medication," Hank stated, apprehension seeping into his every word as he ran his fingers through Peter's messy and unkempt hair that was now rifled with blood and sweat in an attempt to soothe the boy.

"I-I can't it... my c-chest," Peter stumbled through his attempted sentence, taking hasty and pinched wheezes instead of true breaths between his words. He was past humiliation at this point, any semblance of his normally sarcastic and fun-loving self was covered up by his embarrassment and indescribable pulsating torment wracking his body. Here he was, crying like a toddler while Hank of all people was petting his scalp, what an uncanny situation.

Scott returned moments later with extra towels and an armful of water bottles nestled hastily in his grasp. Much to Peter's dismay, Hank was terrified that Peter might choke if he stayed laying down, so his stitches and internal scan were going to be done upright. The simple shift in the gurney's position further aggravated the mysterious angry irritation in Peter's chest and sent him into a series of dry and forceful coughs, each one racking his exhausted body harder than the last. Peter never thought in a million years that the crack of the plastic seal on a water bottle would be so gratifying, yet here he was, face melting at the opportunity to soothe his parched esophagus and hopefully replenish at least some of his lost energy. Scott took to cleaning out Peter's minor injuries, starting the stitches, and helping him drink, while Hank was running a full body diagnostic on the silver-haired mutant. Peter's mind had slipped into a half-conscious yet fully-feeling feverish state where he wasn't really functioning, yet he knew what was happening. It took every ounce of his strength not to just pass out and sleep. He felt the tense prick of the needle every time Scott went back to further close up a gaping wound and he felt the ever present stare of Hank as he started running all his scans. The only time Peter came out of this hazy half-awake state was to drink that delightful and soothing water. Compared to every other sensory input, the water felt like heaven in the fiery depths of hell. The soothing liquid ran down his arid windpipe and seemed to address his every need, until it hit his stomach and he was met with a discomforted static strain in his abdomen. It was uncomfortable, sure, but didn't seem like it needed to be addressed, so Peter plastered on his bravest face (still kind of failing though) as he lightly furrowed his brow and drew his knees up closer to his chest, despite the protest of his aching (and presumably broken) ribs. Scott noticed, as did Hank, but neither thought too much of it as they continued with their busy work. Again, none of them were prepared as to what would happen next.

Fifteen minutes later, just as the diagnostic's results were finishing up, Peter's slight discomfort had warped into a stabbing and indescribable pain as he was wracked with waves of thick and heavy nausea. Scott was almost done with tying off the last gash on Peter's injured arm when he jerked violently to the side and began projectile vomiting, the only thing arising from Peter's forceful heaving being sticky yellow bile and an alarming mix of blood. Each unproductive heave was followed up by another wave of sickening nausea, which was followed up by another (usually successful) upchuck of fluids. Peter was running out of breath, strength, and stomach contents to empty as he grasped desperately to Scott's arm and his own horribly aggravated abdomen.

"Oh, Peter! Oh my god! Hank, what do I do?!" Scott yelled  frantically as he reached to hold back Peter's long and uncontrolled hair as the latter's body faltered over into another bout of wheezy heaving. Scott, however, was not expecting to have his hand be met with an alarming heat that seemingly radiated off of Peter's forehead. He touched his hands around the rest of Peter's face and his neck during a calm period of the heaving and Hank took the opportunity to hastily place a trashcan between Peter's legs to lessen the contortion his body had to do in order to avoid vomiting his own bodily fluids onto himself. "He's got a bad fever. Is this from th-"

"It's because his body's working too hard to handle everything happening to it," Hank cut him off  "It doesn't know where or when to start or stop and it's confused. He needs fluids to replenish his energy, especially after throwing up every ounce of water you just gave him. We're probably going to have to administer an IV."

The large technologically advanced screen in front of him blinked and beeped, signifying that the diagnostic was finished. At a speed that only Peter could best (at full health), Hank pulled up the imaging and was met with two giant glaring orange marks on an overall blue scan; those being 3 fractured ribs and some sort of internal injury on Peter's stomach lining. Oh my god, Hank thought to himself before nearly shouting to Scott, "He's internally bleeding in his stomach, that's why he vomited. That's why there's so much blood... " Hank took a second to calculate what to do. "We need him hooked up to an IV, NOW. Go get me the supplies."

Scott didn't even nod as he scrambled to his feet and dashed off to find what Hank needed. Peter himself was almost completely unconscious at this point, the high fever , empty reserves of strength, and overwhelming pain from every inch of his body were the perfect trio of unbearable feelings were one stroke away from completely pulling him under a fitful blanket of unconsciousness. He was just about to pass the brink and into the darkness when he felt the abrupt patting of Hank dabbing a soaked rag across his face and the dripping of cool water down his neck. The next thing he felt was the forceful jab in his arm and the strange dull feeling of the unknown slowly overtaking him. His spotted vision gave way to darkness as everything faded away.

"Peter? Damnit, he passed out. It's fine, we just need to keep him stable. I don't know how sustainable this is going to be for him. His body is gonna churn through this fluid faster than a toddler sips a juice box, but it's better than nothing," Hank sighed. And for the first time since Peter had awoken, the room filled with an unsettling complacent silence, the only other thing occupying the space being the exhausted pants from Hank and Scott, accompanied by Peter's tight and wheezy breathing.

------

WOW, ANOTHER TIME SKIP... At relatively the same location we were earlier, but like, a day later...

"Ughh..." Peter groaned. Unlike the previous day's events, though, was brought out less by discomfort, and more from boredom. He fidgeted anxiously with a loose thread on his pants while Hank swapped out his IV for what seemed like the thousandth time between the last 24 hours. "When can I get up and you know" Peter gestured abruptly with his hands "go."

"Give it a few more days, Peter. I know your mind is saying that it wants to get up and run 5 laps around the earth, but your body isn't ready for it. You're still running a temperature, your arm isn't going to be in full shape for a while, you might need physical therapy, the ligaments were pretty screwed up, and I don't want you aggravating your ribs or your stomach just yet," Hank insisted as Peter rolled his eyes. The speedster, despite knowing he wasn't nearly ready to be up and flying across rooms at the speed of sound, wanted to be productive. Part of his motivations for being up and at it was also the fact that he wished to hide his immense shame from the relented sob-fest that was yesterday evening by (like how Peter dealt with most of his problems) running until he couldn't feel his legs or until he couldn't give a damn and cared about nothing except the blurred scenery around him. However, it was hard to do either of those things when you were confined to a gurney in a bunker with an IV drip tethered to one arm and a sling on another.

As Hank left the room,  Peter was met by yet another sickening silence, this time, the only thing filling the room was his growing sense of wanting to be productive and just run, but alas, he couldn't. Having just slept for a sizable amount of the day, Peter was just itching for some entertainment, but being stuck in an empty room with no such objects to scratch that itch, he was growing irritable.

Little did the silver-haired mutant know that another certain lanky teleporting teen was standing right outside the door to his room in the medical bay, working up the courage to rebel against Hank's firm: "no, he needs to sleep" statement that Kurt was met with when he asked if he could go and visit his friend. Not being one to break many rules, Kurt was apprehensive about entering, hence his (kind of silly) minor internal dilemma. Mustering up enough courage, Kurt warped inside the room, where he was met with a "Jesus Christ!" from Peter. Kurt, startled by the shout, stumbled backwards and fell. From his position on the ground, he let out a shy,"hi, Peter. How are you feeling?"

"God, dude, you scared the shit out of me. Give a man a warning before you teleport into his private room where he's being held captive against his will next time!" Peter answered, sarcasm dripping in every syllable.

Kurt, being known to take nearly everything extremely literally, responded,"Has Hank been corrupted!? What has he done to you Peter? Do I need to tell the professor that Hank's gone mad, or is it all one big conspiracy?!"

"Whoa there, chill. As much as I'd like the added spice in life that a Hank-and-Charles-gone-mental plot would provide, I think it's safe to say that they're pretty sane... for now."

"Alrighty then. Well, I've come against Hank's wishes to keep you company, what do you want to do?"

"Hank wants me to suffer and die alone? What a traitor!" Peter grabbed at his chest, feigning heartbreak, wincing as his attempt at humor irritated his cracked ribs.

"I doubt that is true. I believe that the correct term to describe your behavior would be a drama queen."

"You'd be correct, buckaroo. Would you mind zipping to my room and grabbing my Walkman and my GameBoy?"

"Um, no problem," Kurt replied as he disappeared in a dark cloud.

Mere moments later, he reappeared with the music player and the gaming device. Peter eagerly reached out for both devices, acting like a hyperactive toddler who'd just been offered a lollipop. Although, the hyperactive toddler description wasn't too far off from Peter's personality normally. The plastic shells of both items were like comfort food and finally brought some form of distraction besides twiddling his thumbs for hours on ends or watching that 'maybe-speck-of-dust-maybe-spider' dance along the bright walls. He switched on his music and popped in an earbud, offering the other to a tentative looking Kurt.

"Dude, you've gotta try this. Please don't tell me Scott's scared you off from American music with his pansy-ass music," Peter insisted as he spun the earbud with his unslinged hand.

"It's not that... it's just, your music, in particular, has, on several occasions, shaken the entire school," Kurt replied as he took the listening device.

"It's called a 'jam session', Kurt," Peter explained as he used very visible air quotes to emphasize his point.

"Alright, if you insist," Kurt sighed as the guitar rifs and crashing of drums filled his pointed ears. He wasn't the hugest fan of all of Peter's loud rock or the deep heavy beats of Scott's rap, but he sat there regardless to try and enjoy a quiet moment with his friend. Moments like these were becoming harder and harder to come by as their world seemed to get even more hectic. The mutants had assumed that the battle in Cairo would have been the worst of it, it sure felt like it at the time, but now they were facing a new evil, one of their friends. Kurt really wanted to talk to Peter about it, maybe even break the news that Raven died, but he felt too timid, and compared to Peter's bold and audacious personality, he felt like nothing. Peter stopped his headbanging for a moment, and that sliver of time was long enough to notice the semi-uncharacteristic silence from the shy yet friendly Kurt, who was awkwardly staring at Peter's feet, caught in an apparent distracted trance, all headed by the semi-somber and contemplative look plastered on his face. Peter clicked the pause and the cassette stopped rolling. This seemed to snap Kurt out of his trance, and the new silence was quickly filled by Peter.

"You got a toe fetish or something? I mean, I know I'm incredibly sexy, but I didn't know you were into that, Kurt. Jeez!" he teased. Kurt just drew his knees up to his chest and shrunk up his neck to try and hide; whether he was hiding from embarrassment of having a strange sexual trigger or something else on his mind was completely beyond Peter's thoughts.

"You never answered my question..."

"What question?"

"How are you feeling. When we went to try and stop Jean, she crushed me with her house, and I couldn't help at all. I felt useless. It... sucked. And then, Scott and Hank dug me out of the rubble and we went to find you. You looked..." Kurt started choking on his own words, scared he'd start crying. Peter felt a strong urge to make another joke about his 'very undoubtedly sexy' body to finish the sentence, but he wanted to hear him finish. He knew Kurt was going somewhere serious when the German boy used the word: sucked, it didn't seem like something in his vocabulary, much less like a word he'd willingly use unless he really felt like he needed to. "I saw you there, laying on the ground, covered in dirt, bleeding everywhere, with this horrible, agonized expression on your face, just... stuck there. I'm so used to you smirking, laughing, or doing that weird thing where you raise your eyebrows up and down after you are sarcastic or make a joke, and to see you like that, still and sad, I just cried. I was terrified that you were already dead. I've never seen you sit still on your own for more than 5 minutes. Even after the fight in Cairo when you had your entire leg broken and in a cast on crutches, you were still smiling, animated as ever. I don't know how you do it, Peter... you're always so happy. I mean, I try, but I can't help but be..."

"Scared?"

"Yeah." For a few moments, the room was silent, seemingly becoming a common theme, and yet again, it did not last long.

"Hahaha..."

"Peter, are you... laughing?"

"You've got me all wrong, Kurt. I may be an impatient wiseass, but don't get me wrong, I've got plenty of moments in my backlog where I felt like I was gonna piss myself. You were talking about after the Cairo fight?" Kurt nodded "Well, during that fight, I went in, guns a blazin', ready to beat the shit out of this weird edgy blue raisin lookin' guy, yet a few seconds later, I'm getting my arm twisted way further than it's supposed to and my leg getting completely fucked up. In that moment, I was sure I was going to die. Had it not been for Raven and Erik, I probably would have."

Kurt gnawed his bottom lip and curled further in on himself at the mention of Raven. Peter didn't know. He doubted Hank would have brought up his resented heartbreak to the seemingly immature speedster. He wasn't sure if he wanted to tell him; Would the timing be appropriate? Would he be able to handle the weight of the loss? Peter'd even said that Raven had been a massive inspiration to him when he was younger on the jet where they had their first real conversation. It'd be hard to swallow the pill that one of your friends had been possessed and just murdered your childhood hero while recovering from blunt trauma. It all made Kurt's head spin and ultimately, he decided against it.

"Sorry to get all deep and edgy on ya. I didn't want you waltzing around screeching about my fearlessness or something, I don't know." Peter shrugged as best as he could before whipping out his GameBoy and waving it in Kurt's face.

"Umm, I don't understand what this is. It looks like a plastic box. Does this one also play music?"

"Naw, this is one of those cool new things from Japan. It's a handheld gaming device."

"Oh. So it's like the large arcade machines... but smaller?"

"Yeah, it's pretty bangin'. I've got Super Mario Land in the slot now, wanna try?"

"Yes!" Kurt took the device from Peter and was about to dive in when he tentatively asked "Umm, Peter? What is the objective?"

"You get the tiny man with the hat from the left to the right and eventually you'll find a lady and win. I guess even minuscule pixelated dudes need a babe," Peter joked. However, Kurt was already encapsulated in the tiny, unlit screen, a little beep going off every time he made the character jump. Peter watched with amusement as he resumed his mixtape with one earbud in, the other listening to the whirring air conditioner and the GameBoy's clacking buttons.

Content with his friend's newfound excitement and ease of mind, Peter felt his eyelids growing heavy and his breaths growing slower and deeper without any conscious feeling of pain with the intake of oxygen. And finally, without any thoughts of his dislocated shoulder, unsolved father-related problems, or his red-haired, newly space-fart-possessed, destruction causing friend, he drifted off to sleep with a content, comfortable, and very quicksilver-y smirk plastered on his face

[aweebwrites]

Consequences

Warning: like one swear word.

_________________

(Here you are anon! So sorry it’s late! Eternal thanks to my lovey beta @thelucariosfish! UwU)

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“Shit…” Kai says with a shaky exhale, looking down at his burnt arms once he was alone.

This was bad. Then again, he had been using his fire almost continuously for three hours. He may be resistant to fire but that doesn't mean he was completely fireproof. Fuck. He can't hide this. He jolts once he heard footsteps approaching, quickly hiding his arms.

“Kai.” Wu says then opened the door to see him sitting there.

“Uh- hey Sensei! What can I do for you?” He asked with a nervous, unconvincing grin.

Wu looked unimpressed.

“Just in case you have forgotten, I have fought alongside elemental masters before. I know what happens when any of them use their powers for too long.” He reminded Kai who frowned, looking away. “The doctors need to treat your burns right away. By how long it took to defeat this month's major villain, I know they are extensive.” He says and Kai nodded, standing up.

He was careful to not let his hands touch anything, the burns stretching up to his elbows. His palms suffered the worst of it, holding third degree burns. From his palm to the middle of his arm, as well as the back had second degree burns and everywhere else up to his elbows had first degree. Everywhere that was burnt and wasn't his palms hurt something fierce. The fact that he can't feel the burns on his palms worried him. What also worried him was the low glow both his hands held. Wu talked about this. Talked about what could happen if damage suffered from overuse of their elements was left unchecked. It would corrupt them, make them monsters. Was that happening to him? He should stop trying to hide the damages he suffered but when he looked at Zane who went offline because of the frost in his systems or Nya who fainted from dehydration or Jay who was blacked out with electrical burns all over his back and hands or Cole who was too weak to even breathe right or Lloyd who was so exhausted, he had slipped into a fucking coma… his measly burns seemed insignificant.

He followed Wu into the doctor's office where elemental master after elemental master was hospitalized. While Sensei Wu oversaw their treatment to help reduce their elemental energies to normal levels, they will need medical care for the damage sustained. It's just… The bad guy commanded mythical creatures of all types. It was when he pulled out Hydras did they had trouble. Fucking Hydras. He never even heard of them before today. He and Skylor had to use fire to cauterize the wounds on the things after they figured out that cutting off the heads didn't work. He ended up doing most of it since Skylor was stretched thin as is. She was suffering from overstimulation. The slightest breeze sent her into utter agony.

And the other elemental masters… They wouldn't have asked them to help if they hadn't desperately needed it. The wendigos were definitely a problem they needed help with. But in the end of it all, Neuro had pushed his powers as hard as they did but lost the ability to isolate his thoughts from everyone else's and couldn't turn it off. It was quite literally driving him mad but the hospital has been treating them for awhile now. They had the soundproof vengestone-lined room ready for him with dim lights and soft music.

Tox was out of it and will have to stay on dialysis for a while to remove the excess toxins from her blood stream. Chamille can't return to her original looks, trapped somewhere between two different appearances. It was an uncomfortable situation for her but Misako is already speaking with her, reminding her of herself. Gravis had a serious case if motion sickness. Everything has to remain completely still for a while so he was left to recover with nurses watching from afar. Karlof was suffering from iron poisoning and was now resting with an IV in to lower his iron levels. Ash was still trying to form half of his body that was nothing but smoke lingering close by resting and thinking if himself as whole constantly. Shade was stuck on the shadows. He couldn't free himself and had no choice but to calm himself and wait. Griffin's adrenaline levels were sky high and his body felt like a giant sore. They had to sedate him to get him to rest but they predicted that he would be significantly better when he wakes up. Paleman was usually always invisible- at least skin wise but it was an entirely different thing to make everything on your person invisible. He's been invisible so long, his powers seem to have stalled and he was now very visible- which he hated to the point where he requests no visitors. All he needed to do was rest at least.

“Kai.” He jolted back to reality and blinked to find himself laying back in a hospital bed.

When the heck did that happen? When did they take off his gi? When did they put in an IV?

“The others will be fine. Do not worry.” Wu told him and he blinked up at him.

“How can you say that?” Kai whispered, looking at him in disbelief. “Lloyd's in a coma. Zane is offline. Cole is on a respirator. Nya nearly died from dehydration. Jay has spinal damage plus burn damage. Of course I'll worry. Especially when all I got was-”

“Third degree burns to your palms. Which means that the skin there is irreversibly damaged and it's why your palms look so yellow.” Wu pointed out, cutting Kai off. “You need to have surgery to remove all the dead skin from your palms and have grafting done to replace the skin that won't grow back.” Kai looked surprised.

Surgery?

“This is not a competition of who is hurt the most Kai. The fact that you were all hurt is terrible enough.” Wu says quietly. “You won't be able to use your powers the longest. Your palms need time to heal or else you may have to go without. Another situation like this may cause more damage than doctors are able to repair.” He told him and Kai could read between the lines.

If he uses his powers to this extent again, the damage might lead to him losing his hands. He looked up once the door opened.

“It's time for the surgery.” A nurse says as she and two others entered.

“I will be there once it is over.” Wu assured, stepping aside so they could wheel him away.

Wu watched him go with a sigh. He slipped off his hat and rubbed his face, looking obviously stressed.

“You've done everything you could.” He looked up once Misako walked in.

“Misako. How is Chamille?” He asked her, slipping his hat on.

“Resting. She won't be able to revert to her own form for a long time.” She told him then placed a hand on his shoulder. “They are all recovering. Signs look promising. Even Lloyd is showing signs of waking up soon. He will still need a lot of rest but things are looking up.” She says with a smile and he nodded with a soft sigh.

“I just wish there was more to be done to prevent the effects of using their powers for too long.” He spoke quietly.

“We're doing everything we-”

“Teacher Wu!” They whirled around to see the panicked nurse who was holding the door open, panting heavily from running it seems.

“What is it?” Wu asked, walking over to her, feeling dread filling him.

“We-” The nurse took a breath. “We have a big problem. It's Neuro.” He says, looking at them terrified.

Misako and Wu look at each other horrified before they ran out, the nurse leading the way.

“We should have seen it coming. He wasn't recovering like he used to! In fact, he began to slowly get worse! We were going to call either of you but we heard you were busy with the others so we hadn't wanted to bother you! We should have! The fault is ours! Oh only-”

“Tell us what happened.” Misako says, cutting him off as they rushed down a short flight of stairs towards where they were holding Neuro.

“We- the vengestone around the holding area. It was cracked. We hadn't known until just moments ago. The thoughts of everyone in the nearby vicinity still reached him. When we realised, it was too late.” He says as they rushed into the monitoring room, Wu all but pushing the doctor looking at the screens in horror aside.

Wu gasped as he saw Neuro inside, screaming as he clawed at his head that was growing at a rate that was almost visible to the human eye, gray fluids leaking from his eyes, nose, ears and mouth, his eyes rolled back in his head.

“Oh no.” Wu whispered as he stepped back.

The corruption was too advanced. He never treated corruption this far along before. Puri-Tea won't work on this. Neither will Sereni-Tea. He turned to the doctors.

“Run.” He told them and they looked at each other, eyes wide in our and fear.

Neuro screamed again but this time, his powers were unleashed, making them all grip their heads as a feeling of rusty nails tearing into their minds over them.

“Run!” He yelled at them again, gritting his teeth against the assault.

They didn't need to be told a third time. They all rushed out, holding their heads still, setting of the fire alarm along the way.

“Wu! We have to go to!” Misako gritted out, her head throbbing.

“No. I have to stop him. Look after the Ninja.” He ordered her.

“No! I- I won't leave you!” She yelled as blood began to run from her ears and nose.

“If you stay, you'll die! Go!” He yelled at her and she looked at him, wanting to protest further but knowing he was right.

He's not like her. Human. He had a far better chance of survival than she did. She swallowed then nodded before taking off. Wu breathed out then pressed the button to open the door then rushed in, staff held firm. Neuro turned to look at him, the gray matter oozing out of his mouth in an endless stream.

“Forgive me Neuro. I wish there was another way.” Wu whispered, ignoring the headache increasing in pain.

Neuro wasn't there anymore. Only this creature he was forced to become. Was still becoming. It gurgled out a growl then screaming as he pounced. Wu steeled himself, staff held in front of him. A twist of the middle segment made a lengthy, sharp point of vengestone appear at the tip.

Forgive me.

__________________________

(Ok laptop. Don’t fail me now. I had a lot of fun writing this! Again, sorry it’s so late! I did tweak your prompt a little. The motion sickness thing seemed to suit Gravis better so I got a little creative. I hope its ok though!)

[whipped-for-kpop-fics]

Protection Squad - Ten

10/15

A kind woman offers you a place of work at the animal shelter she owns and one of the animals seems to take a strong liking to you. You thought Suga was just like any other cat you happened to meet in therapy. You realise how wrong you were when he reveals his true self to you in order to do everything he can to prevent anything hurting you ever again.

Pairing- Reader (Y/N) x Suga [or is it… :)) ]

Genre - Shapeshifter!BTS & magic AU

Warning- multiple possible triggers; Mental disorders talked about and portrayed (depression, anxiety , suicidal thoughts and acts) abuse . near death . plus possibly more . If you are uncertain if you can read, privately message me about what you wish to avoid and I’ll tell you if the story contains it.

Protection Squad Masterlist

Shelter Layout

All at once, consciousness greeted you. The first thing you noticed was that you couldn't feel your hands or any of your left arm. For a moment, you panicked, thinking some kind of irreversible damage had occurred to you but then you shuffled and realised you were laid on your arm which is why it was dead. A little more movement told you your hands were tied together behind your back, a little too tightly hence the lack of feeling. As carefully as you could, you resituated your body until you managed to sit up, realising that your ankles were also tied together. Looking down, you saw rope making your restraints.

A low groan made you jump and your eyes shot up to see a naked male on the floor opposite you. Your eyes widened at the sight. Much like you, he was restrained but in comparison, your rope and tied limbs looked like paradise. He had metal chains wrapped around his wrists and ankles, what looked like barbed wired threaded within the chains. It was only then you noticed the dried blood on his body, especially around where the metal touched his body. Another loop of barbed chain wrapped twice around his slim waist, either end either connecting to the chains on his wrists or ankles.

Pure horror shot through your veins, turning your blood to ice finding three loops of barbed chain wrapped tightly around his throat.

"Ohmygod." You breathed out in a distressed whisper, your hands automatically coming up to cover your mouth, afraid of who might hear your words.

As you realised what had lead you to this moment, the male in front of you suddenly mattered so much less and your head whipped from side to side in search of your companion that you could only hope was still breathing.

Hobi was nowhere to be found and fear welled further up your throat making you feel sick to your stomach.

"No no no no, where is he?" You spoke shakily, forcing yourself up onto your knees to look around the area.

The place you were in didn't even register in your mind. You could've been in a castle and you still wouldn't have noticed, you were too preoccupied with thoughts of Hobi.

As it happens, you were not in a castle but unlike most kidnapping horror stories, you were not in a dingy run down warehouse located in some remote place far away from civilisation with blood stains on the floor. The walls around you were white, the floor and ceiling too. On the other side of the room stood a large metal bench, one similar to the one in the medical office at the shelter but this one had multiple thick leather restraints attached. Behind the bed stood tall a cupboard from floor to ceiling. Beside that a wall mounted rack full of terrifying tools, some looked medical, some looked made for DIY and some pure medieval torture devices. But, you didn't notice any of that.

You realised that besides you and the naked man, the room was empty. As hope began to tingle within at the thought of having a fighting chance, your eyes finally settled on the bars surrounding you and the man. You were in a cage that took up half the room. A crude toilet in one corner consisting of a bucket with a roll of paper beside it.

"Fuck, no." Your voice turned desperate and you fell back against the wall to sit on your backside, holding your knees up against your chest. "What the fuck am I going to do?"

The man groaned again but you were too busy both internally and externally panicking to pay him any attention, at least until he yelped in pain, shocking you back to the present situation.

"D-don't move." You managed to stammer out and he froze. "It's barbed." But, he didn't listen and turned, rolling painfully on the chains, wincing as the spikes dug further into his flesh just so he could look at you. His eyes widened and you could see nothing but fear and pain in his orbs.

"No...Y/N..." He whispered and your heart stopped for a second. "No, why did they have to take you too?" He shuffled closer to you on his side but you moved further away causing him to stop. "I won't hurt you, fuck, the last thing I'd ever want is to hurt you."

"How do you know my name?!" You demanded, all rationality flying out the window. This naked man before you was a complete stranger, you were certain you hadn't even seen him fleetingly in the streets. Strangely enough, though, his voice struck something within your mind, it sounded familiar but for the life of you, you didn't understand why.

"Oh...shit." Realisation washed over his features and he pushed himself up carefully into a seating position, once again ignoring the metal piercing his body. "This is never how you should've found out."

"Found out what?!"

"About me, about Yoongi, about Jungkook and Jimin and Namjoon and Seokjin and Taehyung."

"Y-Yoongi?" Despite the situation being so dire, at the mention of his name, your heart hurt. "Y-you know him?" He nodded. "Who are you?" Your voice was quiet again. You didn't have it in you to yell anymore.

"I'm Hoseok." Your eyes blew wide at the mention of Yoongi's best friend. "Has Yoongi mentioned me?" It was your turn to nod. "Okay, that's good." He smiled awkwardly. "I never wanted to meet you like this." He motioned to his body, only then realising he was naked. "Ah, that's even worse." Somehow, he laughed lightly and you wondered what kind of guy could find any kind of humour in the situation you found yourselves in.

"What about you all?" You prompted. "Are you guys involved in something? Is this gang stuff?"

"What?" He barked out a laugh and you frowned. "No, Y/N, we're not involved with the mafia or gangs or anything bad. We're all just normal guys well, I mean, ignoring our nonhuman sides."

"Your what?"

"We...We're all shapeshifters, Y/N." You stared for a moment before glaring angrily. "I know, we should've told you a long time ago but Yoo-"

"Fuck off." Hoseok clamped his mouth shut. "What kind of a fucking idiot do you take me for? Fucking shapeshifters?!" You laughed humourlessly, the sound is only dry and dark. Hoseok swallowed at the noise, you had never sounded like that and he wanted it to go. Honestly, angry Y/N kind of scared him. "This isn't a movie, Hoseok, fuck, is that even your name? Are you one of them, working to try and get something from me? Well, I can tell you, I have nothing of worth to anyone. If you want to kill me, just do it, I'm done with my life."

"W-what?" He paled at your confession. "No, Y/N." Ignoring your shuffles to get away from him, Hoseok moved over to grip your hands in both of his, his eyes suddenly looking so broken and distraught. "No, you can't be done with your life. You have so much to give. Seokjin-hyung is going to teach you to be a vet. You can help so many animals like you helped Bob!"

"H-how do you know that?"

"I told you, I'm Jung Hoseok, best friend to Min Yoongi." He smiled but it was full of pain. "He'd hate to hear you talk like this."

"He'd hate to hear me talk full stop, Hoseok." You scoffed. "But none of this is important, tell me the truth, Hoseok, none of that shapeshifting bullshit."

"It's not bullshit, Y/N, I swear. All seven of us are shapeshifters." You only stared at him, still not believing his words, jaw tense. "We weren't born this way, we were human at one point but something happened to us all and now we have animal DNA within us. We can take on the form of the animal but it's all us, we just have their bodies. At first, the animal is sort of a quiet presence in our heads, like a humming, but it fades with time." He could see that you didn't believe him and looked down at his hands, pulling them from your own. "You see this?" He showed you the mark on his right palm. It looked eerily familiar to you. "You recognise it, don't you?" An honest nod moved your head in confirmation. "Every shapeshifter has this mark somewhere on their body in both forms. Mine if on my right palm and my front right paw." Then it hit you, why it was so familiar. Your eyes snapped back up to him and he smiled softly. "Yeah."

"Hobi." You muttered and he nodded. "No way."

"I'm Hobi, Y/N. I've been by your side almost every day for months. I was with you at the park, I saw him approach you from behind and tried to run to you but the other guy, he roped me and tranquilised me."

"Why? Why would they do this?"

"Shapeshifters are insanely fucking valuable on the black market. It's partly an ownership thing and partly some fucked up fetish. Some shifters can just change part of their bodies on demand so cat and dog-shifters are especially highly sought after, for the ears and tails."

"Furries." You spoke without even meaning to and Hoseok cracked up.

"Yeah, furries." He grinned, no longer noticing the wire digging into his throat every time he spoke or moved. You did though as fresh blood trickled out from the wounds and down his bare skin.

"Why would they do this to you? This is barbaric." You reached up to run your fingertips just under the bottom row of spines in his throat.

"I can't shift without ripping myself apart." He explained. "But don't worry too much, once it's off, I'll heal fine, the spikes aren't too deep in, nowhere near far enough to do any major damage, I'd not get them money dead or badly damaged."

"Why are you so calm about this?!" You shrieked in disbelief. Practically all fear had left Hoseok and he looked pretty much indifferent.

"Freaking out won't benefit me. It'll only use up energy and make you freak out too."

"Oh..right." You nodded and although it felt practically impossible, you started to calm down. "Do we know anything about the situation?" You asked, looking around to really take in the room that time knowing that Hobi/Hoseok was right in front of you.

"No." Hoseok frowned, turning to look around too. "I imagine they'll torture me for information. You're innocent in this and they figure you know nothing."

"Okay." You nodded before speaking again. "They'll kill me when they get what they want from you, won't they?" Hoseok didn't answer so you looked back at him. His whole body was stiff. "It's okay, I'm not delusional, I know that I'm a liability, that's the only reason they brought me along. They couldn't leave me at the park, I'd alert people to your kidnapping and I saw the guy that grabbed you, I could point the finger and get them caught."

"I don't want to admit how right you are. I don't want anything to happen to you." Hoseok looked desperate at the thought of any harm coming to you but you just shrugged and looked back around the room. "Do you-do you really not care if you die?" You only answered with another shrug as you had spotted a blanket just outside of the cage and got up on your knees to shuffle over. "Y/N." Hoseok's voice reflected his desperation for your safety but you ignored him to squeeze your arms through the gap to grasp the material.

It took a good few tries before you managed to have a good enough grip and pull it through the bars. You went straight back to Hoseok and carefully wrapped the material around his body.

"You take it, shapeshifters run higher than humans," he muttered, trying to fight your hands weakly but you glared at him. He quickly lowered his arms to allow you to finish bundling him up.

"You're naked, Hoseok, you need this more than I do." He made a face showing he was uncertain. "Fine, if not for the sake of warmth, keep it for the sake of me not having to see your penis flapping around everytime you move."

"Oh." Red painted his face and he had the decency to look away in embarrassment while clutching the blanket tighter to his body. "Sorry."

"Not your fault." You settled back down, eyes still scanning the room for anything that could be of use to you two.

"Actually, it is, I never wear clothes when I know I'm going to shift." You looked at him curiously. "The others do but, I prefer to just be naked anyway no matter my form." He chuckled.

"You can wear clothes when you shift?"

"Yeah. Of course, you can never see them but they become like another layer of skin under fur or whatever."

"Oh, they don't get damaged?"

"Only if we get injured." You made a noise of consideration but said nothing and returned to your task of looking around. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for something useful."

"There's nothing, they won't leave anything close enough that could benefit us in any way."

"Blanket."

"That's different."

"How?"

"It's not a weapon or escape tool."

"We could wrap it around someone's throat and strangle them to death," Hoseok said nothing so once again, your attention returned to him.

"Honestly, I think I'm kind of more scared of you right now more than our kidnappers." He chuckled and your lips twitched up into a smile. "You're taking this all pretty well."

"Like you said, no point freaking out, it'll only use up energy and rub off on the other."

"You're trying to plan an escape."

"Well...I've got to do something. I can't just sit here and not keep my mind busy or else I will go crazy."

"True." Hoseok moved closer until he was sat shoulder to shoulder with you and also looked out around the room.

For a good ten minutes or so, you both surveyed the room carefully, discussing potential ideas but inevitably shooting them down upon talking them out until the dead end.

A click of a key echoed around the room so you both looked over at the door as it opened. In walked the man you saw grab Hobi. Your body tensed up at the sight of the man and Hoseok moved closer to you, placing his hand on your high comfortingly so you calmed knowing getting angry would not be worth it. But the second the next man entered the room, nothing Hoseok could do would possibly calm you.

"J-Jeremy?"

[not-poignant]

Speaking of the stomach symptoms that Ef has to go through, how do you cope with your own symptoms and do you have any protips for dealing with the pain?

Hi anon!

This one's tough, because the cause of the pain can be so multi-factorial. Digestive issues - for the best pain treatment and management - require:

1. A diagnosis 2. Understanding your allergies and intolerances*** (and they are not the same thing) 3. Understanding your triggers

The thing is, a diagnosis can be as good as a cure for some people who are lucky enough have treatable digestive conditions. A person with a finicky digestive system who learns they're gluten intolerant has a cure, even if it's not an easy one (avoid all gluten - symptoms and pain gone! Huzzah!)

Anyone who is having difficult digestive times should, imho, never just leave that as something to self-diagnose and just accept. I get diagnosis is a matter of privilege in some cases, but where it's not, this is one area where you don't want to fuck around and find out. There are literally hundreds of different things it could be, all with different treatments, medications, options, and supports out there. And I do know people who've ended up with severe autoimmune conditions and losing like, feet of their intestinal tracts, or cancer-like conditions, because of chronic diarrhea in particular, because they just 'waited' on the pain they were experiencing in their digestive tract.

And then the rest of this post is mostly like, 'I can't help you because bodies are diverse and 'stomach symptoms like Ef' means hundreds to thousands of different illnesses and hell, I've suggested pain management techniques in that story that you can try right now, and also I can't tolerate any pain treatments so good luck anon but I got nothing.' But like, the long scenic route version.

I can't speak to your issues, anon, because I don't know what your diagnoses are. There's not really many 'idiopathic digestive issue' diseases, but there are a lot of chronic illnesses that can be diagnosed through exclusion that can't be cured. But again, of those - and there are many - I don't know what yours are. And what I have, may not apply to you. It may not even apply to someone with exactly the same symptoms I do.

A person having Efnisien's symptoms could just have some intolerances that could be easily cured by avoiding those foods. Another person might have cancer. Like...you'd be amazed how many diseases cause non-specific and painful cramps and diarrhea. Sometimes it seems like all of them can.

For example, one of my many digestive illnesses is severe medication resistant gastro-esophageal reflux disease. Everyone in my family on my mother's side has it to varying degrees.

My grandma has needed to have two Nissen fundoplication surgeries to survive it, and has taken a proton-pump inhibitor since they were invented to manage it (since the 1980s), and because she's been taking a PPI for 40+ years, her stomach is now also riddled with hundreds of (so far) benign polyps and cysts as a result of the medication that she must take.

She avoids certain foods that I don't have to avoid, but I also need to take more medications than her, my food triggers are different to her food triggers, my brother's food triggers are different to my food triggers and he has the same disease and presumably, with a very similar genetic make up because it comes through the family line. His is very severe like mine, and nearly caused esophageal cancer for going so long untreated (the medication to treat has side effects, but leaving medication-resistant GERD alone can cause cancer of the throat and esophagitis, which my brother has been diagnosed with). My sister also has it. My Mum's is very mild, and she just has to avoid certain foods but needs no medications. And so on and so forth.

So how I manage the pain of just that one digestive disease - for I have more than one - (PPI and H2 receptor antagonist, certain food avoidance, no NSAIDs at all) is different to how my grandmother manages the pain (two surgeries, food avoidance that I don't have to avoid, PPI only), is different to how my mother manages the pain (food avoidance only, and different foods to me), is different to how my sister manages the pain (heat packs). Even the specialists we see are different, and our doctors suggest different management protocols. In that sense, I'm lucky, because my GERD can be medicated and I can generally enjoy eating and not choking on my own stomach every single night. Though I still have 'breakthrough days' where I do wake up choking on my own stomach acid, and have a sore throat / cough for the rest of the day.

So like, I can't take anti-inflammatories for the pain because that affects the stomach lining and mine's already fucked from GERD, but you might be able to. I can't take Buscopan for the pain, but you might be able to. I can't take Immodium on bad days, but you might be able to! Don't get me started on opioids or tramadol, it is very much like my body wants to suffer sometimes, the way I can't tolerate meds that are specifically for pain management. :/ I highly recommend looking up some support groups for the diagnosis/es you have, and seeing what people are recommending.

Because I don't tolerate almost all painkillers, I can't take any pain relief for my digestive illness/es (of which there are like...four, not including doctors thinking that my genetic cancer is causing some of it too, which is just a whole lot of oh well) that isn't just paracetamol (acetaminophen) which doesn't work.

There are no medications that help my chronic diarrhea at the moment, because it doesn't seem to be an autoimmune disease (at least so far, despite flagging for mild autoimmune stuff in every bloodtest I've ever had since I was 18 years old, but that's another story), but if yours is autoimmune in nature, there will be options that aren't pain-medication that may help you, and anything that helps with symptoms also, by default, helps with pain.

Some of my symptoms/pain is stress-triggered (my PTSD and my tumours can cause massive and unusual amounts of adrenaline to dump through my system, and one of the side effects of adrenaline entering the system is diarrhea - it's part of the flight/fight response: digestive disturbance). Therefore, less stress would certainly help me. But one of my specialists just laughed at me gently when I asked him how people stress less. You have to be awfully privileged financially to even try, even without a diagnosis of PTSD. And my tumours will still likely do this to me for the rest of my life, whenever they just feel like manufacturing hormones. They're neuroendocrine tumours, they want to fuck up my hormonal system, lmao.

Basically, anon, your question is kind of too vague to suggest much more than what's in Falling Falling Stars - perhaps some pain killers, perhaps some food avoidance, perhaps some heat or cold packs. Who knows? I have no idea what your diagnoses are, what you can tolerate, and I know what other people use for support, I can't, so I can't speak to how good those things are.

I'm going to level with you, anon. I have no protips for dealing with the pain aside from sucking it up and dealing with it, because I have almost no other options myself except to develop a high pain tolerance (which I have, which is terrible, because it means I wait too long to see doctors for very serious issues, and this has fucked me over more than once - one of my specialists literally yelled at me for it only last year: 'WHY DIDN'T YOU COME IN SOONER, DO YOU NOT TRUST US' which was great).

I'm really hoping you are not in my situation, because my 'dealing with the pain' is a version of 'I am in moderate to significant and sometimes severe pain 24/7 and no one can do anything to help me.' I wish it was only my digestive issues causing that, but the Fibromyalgia is certainly part of that. Sometimes the only way to deal with pain is to see a psychologist, and learn how to live with pain.

Find the support groups for your illness/es anon, they will have big personal lists that everyone is doing, they will be highly diverse and everyone will be doing something different for pain management, from ketamine infusions, to low-dose naltrexone, to ultrasound therapy, to heat packs, to a billion different medications, some for pain, some for your diagnosis. Having a diagnosis will help, because there are medications for specific diseases and disorders, someone with Crohn's will be on a very different cocktail of drugs compared to someone with IBS-D type compared to someone with IBS-mixed type, compared to someone with food intolerances.

And if you're lucky, your issues will be caused by intolerances, in which case you have a cure, even if it's an inconvenient one. But that cure (avoiding the food) can permanently remove the pain in some cases.

I'm sorry I can't be more help. There's just...thousands of things that can cause diarrhea and stomach cramps, and thousands of ways to manage those things. It's too nonspecific, beyond what I've already suggested in Falling Falling Stars. And anything more than that comes with side effects, and it's not good to already strain a digestive system that's strained, when you can potentially avoid it.

*** Please remember that there is almost no way to know your intolerances except through a food elimination diet, and anyone trying to sell you a blood test that tells you otherwise (i.e. naturopaths) is a fucking charlatan. There are, I believe, only 2-3 intolerances that can be read through blood test, one of them is lactose. There is no such thing as an accurate 'intolerance blood panel.' And only an allergist can diagnose allergies (with the exception of coeliac and again probably lactose issues lol), and finally, allergy =/= intolerance. Elimination diets should be overseen with the help of a doctor or specialist or dietician, because they are difficult to do and can cause or exacerbate eating disorders and disordered eating. I am not a doctor, always talk to your doctor about this stuff first, if you're concerned.