#and the symptoms she describes are so worrying

[theygender]

This has been on my mind for weeks and I talked to my therapist about it today and told my girlfriend about it too so now it's time for me to update the gay people in my phone: I may have schizotypal personality disorder

[neverendingford]

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[autismserenity]

know someone who enjoys horror stories? share this one! it's true!

hahahahahahahahahaha aarrggghhhhhhhhhh 3,000,000 deaths due to COVID-19 last year. Globally. Three million. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. The reason people are still worried about COVID is because it has a way of quietly fucking up your body. And the risk is cumulative.

I'm going to say that again: the risk is cumulative.

It's not just that a lot of people get bad long-term effects from it. One in seven or so? Enough that it's kind of the Russian Roulette of diseases. It's also that the more times you get it, the higher that risk becomes. Like if each time you survived Russian Roulette, the empty chamber was removed from the gun entirely. The worst part is that, psychologically, we have the absolute opposite reaction. If we survive something with no ill effects, we assume it's pretty safe. It is really, really hard to override that sense of, "Ok, well, I got it and now I probably have a lot of immunity and also it wasn't that bad." It is not a respiratory disease. Airborne, yes. Respiratory disease, no: not a cold, not a flu, not RSV.

Like measles (or maybe chickenpox?), it starts with respiratory symptoms. And then it moves to other parts of your body. It seems to target the lungs, the digestive system, the heart, and the brain the most.

It also hits the immune system really hard - a lot of people are suddenly more susceptible to completely unrelated viruses. People get brain fog, migraines, forget things they used to know.

(I really, really hate that it can cross the blood-brain barrier. NOTHING SHOULD EVER CROSS THE BLOOD-BRAIN BARRIER IT IS THERE FOR A REASON.) Anecdotal examples of this shit are horrifying. I've seen people talk about coworkers who've had COVID five or more times, and now their work... just often doesn't make sense? They send emails that say things like, "Sorry, I didn't mean Los Angeles, I meant Los Angeles."

Or they insist they've never heard of some project that they were actually in charge of a year or two before.

Or their work is just kind of falling apart, and they don't seem to be aware of it.

People talk about how they don't want to get the person in trouble, so their team just works around it. Or they describe neighbors and relatives who had COVID repeatedly, were nearly hospitalized, talked about how incredibly sick they felt at the time... and now swear they've only had it once and it wasn't bad, they barely even noticed it.

(As someone who lived with severe dissociation for most of my life, this is a genuinely terrifying idea to me. I've already spent my whole life being like, "but what if I told them that already? but what if I did do that? what if that did happen to me and I just don't remember?") One of its known effects in the brain is to increase impulsivity and risk-taking, which is real fucking convenient honestly. What a fantastic fucking mutation. So happy for it on that one. Yes, please make it seem less important to wear a mask and get vaccinated. I'm not screaming internally at all now.

I saw a tweet from someone last year whose family hadn't had COVID yet, who were still masking in public, including school.

She said that her son was no kind of an athlete. Solidly bottom middle of the pack in gym.

And suddenly, this year, he was absolutely blowing past all the other kids who had to run the mile. He wasn't running any faster. His times weren't fantastic or anything. It's just that the rest of the kids were worse than him now. For some reason. I think about that a lot. (Like my incredibly active six-year-old getting a cold, and suddenly developing post-viral asthma that looked like pneumonia.

He went back to school the day before yesterday, after being home for a month and using preventative inhalers for almost week.

He told me that it was GREAT - except that he couldn't run as much at recess, because he immediately got really tired. Like how I went outside with him to do some yard work and felt like my body couldn't figure out how to increase breathing and heart rate.

I wasn't physically out of breath, but I felt like I was out of breath. That COVID feeling people describe, of "I'm not getting enough air." Except that I didn't have that problem when I had COVID.) Some people don't observe any long (or medium) term side effects after they have it.

But researchers have found viral reservoirs of COVID-19 in everyone they've studied who had it.

It just seems to hang out, dormant, for... well, longer than we've had an opportunity to observe it, so far.

(I definitely watched that literal horror movie. I think that's an entire genre. The alien dormant under ice in the Arctic.)

(oh hey I don't like that either!!!!!!!!!) All of which is to explain why we should still care about avoiding it, and how it manages to still cause excess deaths. Measuring excess deaths has been a standard tool in public health for a long time.

We know how many people usually die from all different causes, every year. So we can tell if, for example, deaths from heart disease have gone way up in the past three years, and look for reasons. Those are excess deaths: deaths that, four years ago, would not have happened. During the pandemic, excess death rates have been a really important tool. For all sorts of reasons. Like, sometimes people die from COVID without ever getting tested, and the official cause is listed as something else because nobody knows they had COVID. But also, people are dying from cardiovascular illness much younger now.

People are having strokes and heart attacks younger, and more often, than they did before the pandemic started. COVID causes a lot of problems. And some of those problems kill people. And some of them make it easier for other things to kill us. Lung damage from COVID leading to lungs collapsing, or to pneumonia, or to a pulmonary embolism, for example. The Economist built a machine-learning model with a 95% confidence interval that gauges excess death statistics around the world, to tell them what the true toll of the ongoing COVID pandemic has been so far.

Total excess deaths globally in 2023: Three million.

3,000,000.

Official COVID-19 deaths globally so far: Seven million. 7,000,000. Total excess deaths during COVID so far: Thirty-five point two million. 35,200,000.

Five times as many.

That's bad. I don't like that at all. I'm glad last year was less than a tenth of that. I'm not particularly confident about that continuing, though, because last year we started a period of really high COVID transmission. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. Here's their data, and charts you can play with, and links to detailed information on how they did all of this:

Here's a non-paywalled link to it:

https://archive.vn/2024.01.26-012536/https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/coronavirus-excess-deaths-estimates

Oh: here's a link to where you can buy comfy, effective N95 masks in all sizes:

Those ones are about a buck each after shipping - about $30 for a box of 30. They also have sample packs for a dollar, so you can try a couple of different sizes and styles.

You can wear an N95 mask for about 40 total hours before the effectiveness really drops, so that's like a dollar for a week of wear.

They're also family-owned and have cat-shaped masks and I really love them. These ones are cuter and in a much wider range of colors, prints, and styles, but they're also more expensive; they range from $1.80 to $3 for a mask. ($18-$30 for a box of ten.)

[gatheringbones]

[“I told my mother I thought I might be trans in a lengthy and overly apologetic email, which she didn’t quite know how to respond to. From her perspective, my transition had popped up out of nowhere, with no prior warning signs. She was convinced I had been brainwashed into transitioning, and agreed to meet my counsellor for a joint meeting with me, primarily to meet the person she felt had brainwashed her child into transitioning.

My mother describes her first meeting with me presenting as Laura as very difficult for her, due in no small part to her inability to see me as anything but her very traditionally masculine son in a dress. For a while she knew but did not talk to my father, which she found very difficult. She told me years later that she went through a period of mourning, feeling like her child had died, and that she was left with a stranger she did not know. It put a lot of strain on her, and on our relationship as parent and child.

Why the assumption I was brainwashed? Because of autism infantilisation.

Before we talk more about my journey coming out as transgender, we have to rewind a little bit to something else that went on at around the same point in my life: my diagnosis of Asperger’s. By the time my mother attended that appointment and met me as Laura for the first time, I had already been diagnosed with Asperger’s, which was part of the reason she was so worried about me. She was not aware of any statistical link between autism and gender dysphoria, and in her eyes I was a vulnerable young person with an autism spectrum condition who was being manipulated into transition because I was easily swayed, or lacking in ability to assess my feelings on the matter properly for myself. This is depressingly common: an adult’s assumption that having an autism spectrum condition means you’re incapable of proper self-understanding, or that you’re susceptible to being manipulated into believing things about yourself that you did not previously. You’re not trusted as being of sound mind to make choices about your own life, out of fear you’ve been manipulated.

Speaking to my mother years later, now she has somewhat settled down and got used to me going by Laura and female pronouns, she told me that her biggest fear, and the primary reason she agreed to attend that first joint session together, was that, as a youth with Asperger’s, my therapist was influencing me into believing that I was trans. She feared it was some kind of brainwashing that my gullible mind could not resist the allure of, rather than believing my own account of what I was experiencing.

I also faced this same issue with doctors when trying to access medical support through the NHS. I would have general practitioners, mental health doctors and gender specialists alike raise an eyebrow when I acknowledged my Asperger’s diagnosis, and then proceed to take plenty of extra time asking me lengthy questions about how my autism symptoms manifested, to ensure I was of sound enough mind to make permanent choices about my body. Apart from the obvious infantilisation of people with conditions like Asperger’s on display there, I always just explained it as being like the decision to get a tattoo. I am an adult, over the age of 18, who has been deemed sober and mentally sound, and as such I have every right to permanently inject colours into my skin that may never go away. Why should I not be trusted to take slow-acting meds that are somewhat easier to reverse? Still, the fact I had to fight to be believed that I was mentally sound enough to make that choice says a lot about misunderstandings about autism spectrum conditions, but highlights that to assert that transition is unique in the permanent nature of its change to the body is completely inaccurate.”]

laura kate dale, from uncomfortable labels: my life as a gay autistic trans woman

[yrfemmehusband]

Debunking popular fake claiming points when it comes to tics and tourettes:

"I saw an older video where they didn't tic once!"

1. A trait of tourette's is waxing and waning tics. This means the diagnostic criteria takes into account that some people will go days to months without ticcing, or without ticcing severely.

2. Many of my tics are nearly microscopic. How do you know they weren't? Did you have a full body view of them? How do you know they weren't wiggling their toes nonstop, or maybe those couple of sniffs you wrote off were tics.

"their family/friends came forward and confirmed they're faking!"

1. My little brothers literally forgot I had tourettes. It can also be completely missed in childhood, many women and other people who were AFAB go undiagnosed until adulthood. Sweet Anita? She wasn't diagnosed until 27.

2. Family isn't always a reliable source and many people are estranged from family members, if you aren't very close with a person and their family, don't take their family's word at face value. De

"sometimes they tic a lot, and sometimes you don't see it at all for hours/days/weeks!"

See point one about tics waxing and waning. You are literally describing a symptom.

"Every time someone brings up tics around them they start ticcing!"

This is literally how tics work. If you are reminded of them you will have them. Especially if someone brings up a specific tic.

"you can see they put thought and effort into their tics, tourette's doesn't work like that!"

Clearly, you don't know how it works if you're saying something like this. No one knows how it works or feels unless you have it. Sometimes it looks like I put effort or thought into a tic when it was entirely involuntary. Sometimes, I do put thought into a tic. There's a part of tourette's called a Premonitory urge and it's the feeling you get before you tic. If you wanna get the feeling to go away, sometimes it's better to force out a tic.

It's not helpful to anyone to claim someone is faking, EVEN IF THEY ARE. We will NEVER have any way of knowing if some random online is faking tourettes and honestly the tourettes community has bigger things to worry about, and so should you.

[kira-fluff]

reaction to finding out you have a chronic disease | fem!reader x haikyuu!!

this idea popped into my head in the shower. shower thoughts are the best. as a chronically ill person such as myself (mentally and physically, LOL!) i felt maybe I was a little qualified to write this. these are all diseases i experience! i can def write some that i am not diagnosed with :) i'm a biology nerd, so i love learning new things, especially about diseases! some of these are more serious than others. i tried to keep the disease symptoms/descriptions general so it can appeal to more diagnoses (for example, nosebleeds are indicative of several different diseases) that way more people can feel represented by what i write!

‼️warnings: mentions of blood, nekoma team being dorks, seizures, WAY too many ellipses (sorry I just love them), pointless bantering (oikawa), dramatic af, osamu described as "caked-up" (sorry not sorry), railing on atsumu for shits and giggles, deep hatred of the word moist

want to see a different haikyuu character's reaction? request here! also, if you want to read a specific disease represented, i can see if i can put it in there too :)

✿ kuroo tetsuro "hey when do you want to- OH MY GOD ARE YOU OKAY?!" blood dripped from your nose onto the gymnasium floor. "oh. another nosebleed. my bad, I'll clean that up..." you said apathetically. "hey, this is sort of a big deal, ya know? shit... yaku, I need a towel or something!" he shouted. they really weren't anything serious. ever since you were little, you had frequent nosebleeds. your mom wrote it all off as the cold weather (even in summer), so it wasn't really that big of a deal to you either (until a few doctor visits later). still, the apathy you felt toward your predicament remained. yamamoto had already rushed over at his captain's call. "does she need an ice pack, too? fuck, I don't know what to do...." "aren't you supposed to tilt your head up?" one member asked. "no, no i think you're supposed to tilt your head down...." another muttered. "GUYS, GUYS I GOT IT. GOOGLE SAYS TO 'sit down and tilt your head forward, pinching the top part of your nose above the nostrils for like, 10 to 15 minutes.'" lev sat back proudly, phone in hand. "can't believe you were smart enough to look that up..." kenma whispered under his breath. "hey, hey, look at me. you still with us?" kuroo said, a hand on either side of your face. despite the towel against your nose, you couldn't help but laugh. "oh my god, guys! it's not like I'm dying! this happens all the time." "but that's not...normal. did you ever get it checked out?" kuroo stared at you inquisitively, his brow raised. his fellow teammates nodded. you sighed. "look, unless there's a lot of excessive gushing or anything like that, they said i should be okay. yes there's a whole disease behind it all with a long-ass name that no one can pronounce and yes there are sometimes other symptoms that could result in death, but I'm totally fine, okay? I'm perfectly healthy!" "you poor, fragile angel..." lev said, a hand on his chest, distraught. "that... does NOT make me feel more relieved. at all. in fact, I'm more worried. should we go to the hospital? that one looked a little... gush-y...." kuroo said, pacing back and forth before setting his eyes back on you. removing the towel from your nose, you shook your head. "no. look, bleeding nose already gone, see? I'm not going to the hospital. I'm completely fine. relax, kuroo." kuroo stared at you for another moment, taking in your expression, searching for any signs of discomfort. at last, he sighed. "ok. fine. I concede. but if you ever feel the littlest bit unwell, tell me or one of us, okay?" after your agreement, and several more minutes of doting from both your boyfriend and all the other team members, you at last parted ways. as you got out of the shower that night, your phone lit up with a notification. tetsu 💕 [11:23pm]: I'm serious about what I said back there. please talk to me when you aren't feeling good. you mean so much to me that I can't imagine what life would be like without you. sleep well, babe. love you.

✿ osamu miya "damn are you o-- OKAY, YEAH, NO. SHE'S NOT OKAY." it was your average day as a supportive, amazing, fantastic girlfriend watching your iconic, sexy, hot, caked-up boyfriend play volleyball with his piss-haired twin and the rest of the team of inarizaki. unfortunately for you (and the entire volleyball team), inarizaki had a recent issue with their air conditioning units. even more unfortunate was the fact that the fans in the gymnasium were practically there for decoration, that's how useless they were. despite it being late march (still quite cool outside), the players and spectators were drenched in sweat. still, you weren't about to let a little (lot) bit of sweat deter you from cheering for your mans! so, you remained in the stands, cheering as loudly as you could (except for the times when you couldn't because atsumu was once again on his I'm About To Serve Power Trip). it was finally nearing the end of the game, and thank GOD it was because you were starting to feel reaaalllly light-headed. at the final score of the match, you stood up, but oh, was that a mistake. suddenly, you legs started shaking. the lights suddenly seemed to dim down and black spots were popping up in your vision. maaaaybe you should sit back down. wait. where is "back down"? it suddenly occurred to you that at this point, you couldn't see anything. beginning to panic, you started reaching out to find something to hold onto, thankfully finding the stair railing of the bleachers in your grasp. slowly, you blindly fumbled your way down the steps of what you hoped were the bleachers steps. you heard someone shout something along the lines of, "you good?" you were far too panicked and far too focused to give a reply. don't fall down. don't fall down. don't faint. don't pass out. you chanted in your head like a mantra. you heard the squeak of shoes against the ground and voices talking back and forth around you when suddenly a steady hand grabbed ahold of you just above your elbow. guess that was all you needed before your consciousness flickered, then extinguished.

-

"....cold like ice...." "...pale as hell...." you could only hear snippets of sentences, and your eyelids felt heavy. "....have something....with sugar, preferably...." when you finally opened your eyes, you were no longer in the gym, but in inarizaki's nurse's office. "hey..." you turned, now noticing the other occupant of the otherwise empty room. "'samu... did I faint again?" his eyebrows rose. "again? like, you've done this before?" "yeah. happens a lot. 's fine though. was a little scary back there for a minute, though." "damn, I'll say. I've never seen someone so pale. and sweaty. and that's saying something, cuz post-practice 'tsumu is disgustingly moist." "'samu, I love you, but never say that fucking word again." "what, moist?" you cringed, grabbing at your ears, "ugh, yes! I'm already dying here and now you're nailing the final mark in the coffin." osamu gave his signature half-smile. "I thought you said you were fine?" you scoffed, "that was just to make you feel better. I'm gonna need lots of cuddles tonight to wave off my near-death experience." he let out a light-hearted laugh. "okay. plenty of that for you regardless of whether you're on death's door or not." he said, giving you a small peck. you pursed your lips. "I need you right now, though." his face split in a full grin as he slid next to you on the small bed. "anything for you darlin'."

✿ oikawa toru "please... please be okay..." you had been enjoying your regular weekday study session. it always went as follows: meet up after class, head off to aoba johsai's library, study (and perhaps get slightly off-topic over some vending machine snacks and drinks), and at last, go to volleyball practice (perks of being a manager!). "ok, ok, we should probably finally look at what we're supposed to know for our next english exam," oikawa said, still in between chuckles. "but toru... i can't go on without a drink..." you clutched your throat dramatically. "must... have.... beverage.... dying of.... thirst!" oikawa laughed again, "geez, fine!" he said, attempting to sound annoyed by your request (and failing miserably). "I'll go grab us something to drink. on me." he winked. "wow. what a gentleman. you really spare no expense, spoiling me with luxurious drinks from the beverage box of wonders! oh how lucky I am to have such a supportive boyfriend..." you leaned back on your chair, drying a fake tear of gratitude, while simultaneously stifling a giggle. "damn, ok. fork out the yen, then, babe." "nooooo~~~ I was kidding! I'm sorry you're the best ever in the whole wide world~~~ my little piglet oinkawa~" "ok now you're paying for my drink too." "I'm sorry!!!! I won't call you oinkawa ever again." "thank you-" "to your face." after at least 15 minutes of more bickering (and no studying) oikawa was off to the so-called beverage box of wonders, also known as a shitty-ass vending machine that was probably last refurbished in the '90s. oikawa was still laughing to himself as he rounded the corner to the library, drinks in his arms. "hey babe, are you finally studying?" he smirked, finally nearing your small alcoved study area.

- thud, thud. the long-forgotten drinks fell to the floor as oikawa rushed over to you. there you convulsed on the ground, your eyes white and pupil-less, and your mouth foaming, turning a slight twinge of pink. you let out small grunts, completely unresponsive. "oh my god, oh my god, hey, hey listen to me." oikawa was already in full-fledged panic mode, tapping your face with his hand. "oh my god, SOME PLEASE HELP HER!" the few left in the library looked over at oikawa, then at you, before beginning to run about. one was on their phone speaking to a 911 operator, another rushed out of the room. one kneeled alongside oikawa, checking helplessly for a pulse. "protect her head." a girl read out from her phone. oikawa immediately shed his jacket, placing it under your head which was hitting the ground rapidly to the incongruent rhythm of your convulsions. "check her bag, does she have any meds?" "SHE'S MY FUCKING GIRLFRIEND I THINK I'D KNOW IF SHE HAD MEDS!" oikawa shouted. he didn't mean to snap, but he felt so useless. were you hiding this from him? how did he not know you had seizures? were they always this bad? despite what he'd told the unnamed student, oikawa, jumped up, grabbing your bag and nearly ripping the zipper with the force he'd opened it with. no medication. "no meds." he said, quieter this time. a hand rested on his shoulder. "it's gonna be okay, man. look, she stopped." oikawa whipped his head over to you, chastising himself for removing his eyes from you for even a second. you were still breathing, but it was like you were in a deep slumber. by the time the EMTs arrived, however, you'd begun blinking your eyes lazily at your surroundings.

- "hey oikawa." you said, smiling. oikawa said nothing in return, his head in his hands. you sat there for a moment, taking in your surroundings. "wait a minute, where am i?" you felt a tickling inside your nose. at the touch of your hand, you realized you had a breathing tube hooked up you. another glance around the sterile hospital room showed your heart rate monitor and other cords wrapped up around the hospital bed. you laughed, "...and what's all this stuff on me?" "you had a seizure." oikawa said sharply, though not unkind. you stared at him once more in disbelief. "...really?" "yeah. I came back from getting our drinks when...when I found you lying on the ground, shaking. the doctor says you bit your tongue, which explains why the foam that was coming out of your mouth was pink. they want to do an MRI on you." "oh." you gazed down, then met his eyes again. "you... had to deal with that all by yourself?" "other people in the library helped me... though I don't think I was the nicest guy to be around. its sort of all of a blur." you smiled, "for me, too. I can barely remember what we were talking about before I woke up." oikawa's eyes widened, "really?" "yeah... but I think I'll be okay, as long as you're here." "this hasn't happened before, has it?" "no, not really. I mean, I've always gotten light-headed easily, which is sort of how I felt before I, ya know... went down... but never like that. I don't think. then again, if I wasn't here in a hospital bed, I think I would've just thought I fell asleep or something. it just feels like I took a long nap. still kind of tired, honestly." oikawa shook his head. "I'm never letting you out of my sight ever again." "oikawa, seriously. it's gonna be okay. I'm fine. nothing bad happened, right? I didn't die." "BUT YOU COULD'VE!" he shouted. "...you could've.." he said again in a whisper. suddenly, he got up. leaning over the hospital bed, he pressed his lips to your temple, leaving a soft kiss in its wake. "I just... I don't want to see you suffering. I don't want you to get hurt." "but you were there." "but what if I wasn't?" "but you were." you slid your hand over his own. "oikawa, it's gonna be okay, I promise. I'm a little scared, too, but... I know we'll figure something out, okay?" he let out a mix between a sigh and a laugh, "why does it feel like I was the one who had the seizure? some boyfriend I am, making you feel worse." "oikawa shush." you placed you index finger over his lips. "you're not allowed to talk about yourself in that way in my presence." he rolled his eyes, but his dimples popped out in a wary smile. "you're amazing, you know that?" you imitated deep-thought, your finger on your chin. "hmm... no, doesn't ring a bell." a full grin bloomed across his face now. "then I'll spend the rest of my life reminding you."

a/n: romanticize the source of your medical bills girlies 💕 it works wonders

[amberlynnmurdock]

My Escape

Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: The one time Matt is her escape in a loud situation, and she's his when he has a rough night as Daredevil.

From this lovely anon's request!

I hope I did your request justice, anon friend!

Warnings: anxiety symptoms described, gunshot sound

Words: Just under 2k

*not my gif, credit to owner*

Matt Murdock could take a beating—he could threaten a criminal over the edge of a roof without remorse and he could speak threats like they were prayers. One thing he couldn’t take? If she was feeling uncomfortable in any situation, in any way. 

Matt was sitting across from her at Josie’s—they hadn’t reached that point in their relationship where there was a label and for that matter, if one saved the other one a seat at the table at Josie’s—and he was waiting for a moment to ask her if everything was okay. Foggy and Karen were playfully arguing about who should play winner at the pool table. Marci was taking a work call. But her? 

She was anxiously drawing circles on the condensation of her beer bottle. She was looking around the bar, for nothing in particular, but for a sense of safety. She doesn’t need to worry about that, Matt thinks to himself. I’m here. Her knee was tapping at an incredible speed against her seat. No one else could feel it, but Matt could feel the vibrations through the floor up to his chair. Her heart was beating so fast it sounded like a loud thumping to Matt’s ears. She looked around again, biting her lip, flinching when she heard a group of men shout over at the TV. 

Having enough of the environment, she excused herself from the table. 

“I’ll be right back,” she said, barely at a volume anyone could hear her. Foggy and Karen didn’t acknowledge her exit and Marci stayed on the phone. Matt cocked his head to listen to where she was going—the bathroom. 

She’d have to walk past a large group of bikers, ignoring their ogling glances and pushing past their rough leather jackets. Excuse me, Matt heard her politely say. His grip on his beer bottle tightened as he heard what some of them said under their breath. Immediately, Matt got out of his seat to follow her to the bathroom to make sure she was safe.

She closed the door behind her and stood back against it, eyes closed. 

“Breathe,” she whispered to herself. She took a few deep breaths and felt her heart palpitating in her chest. Suddenly, she felt hot in her clothes and for moment thought she was going to pass out. Did I hydrate enough today? She placed a hand over her heart to calm herself down. You’re fine, you’re fine, you’re fine. Your friends are right outside. 

“I shouldn’t have come,” Matt heard her whisper to herself. He was standing a few feet from the door, holding his cane in his hands, waiting for her. 

After a few minutes, she opened her eyes and fixed her hair—the only thing she felt in control of. 

When she opened the door, she was surprised to see Matt waiting for her. 

“Matt,” she was startled. Relief washed over her like cold water, and suddenly she felt like she had come back down to reality. 

“Hey,” he greeted softly, offering a smile. “You want to step outside for a sec?” 

“I’d love that,” she breathed out. 

It was much cooler outside than the dingy inside of the bar. The loud noises that came from the biker gang and other drunkards were nothing but muffled sounds as the door closed. Only the sounds of the city at night filled the space between them. Matt let her take a moment to herself as she leaned against the brick wall of the building and closed her eyes. He stood right next to her so his left shoulder was touching her right. He played with his cane in his hands, wondering when the right moment to speak would come. The last time it was the two of them, his hands had gotten lost in the tangles of her hair as they shared their first kiss. She had been so relaxed and carefree. Now, she was anxious and quiet. He wanted to show her that he could be the one she stole kisses from and the one who would be there for her when she wasn’t feeling herself. 

Instead, Matt didn’t say anything. Maybe that’s exactly what she needed. He moved his cane to rest against the wall and gently trailed his fingers around her wrist until his hand was completely holding hers. She accepted it with gratitude, melting into his touch. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder. Matt wanted to hide the smile on his face, but he couldn’t. Her head fit perfectly on his shoulder.

“I had a feeling something was wrong,” he mumbled. “Thought you could use a break from inside.”

“I just get overwhelmed,” she sighed. “Too much noise for my brain to comprehend all at once. And then I feel unsafe and like I’m going to pass out. Do you ever feel overwhelmed?”

Matt chuckled in irony—did he ever. She didn’t know about his heightened senses, but he could relate to her in so many ways. He’s learned to turn off certain sounds but sometimes, and especially at night, he could never have a completely quiet night. 

“Yes,” was all he said. “I do. All the time.”

“Well,” she picked up her head, the warmth immediately disappearing from Matt’s shoulder. “If you ever get overwhelmed, don’t be afraid to come to me to escape.”

Matt doesn’t reply with words—instead, he places a kiss on her forehead. As long as she was his escape, he’d gladly be hers.

****

Matt hated guns. 

He really hated guns. 

Once a shot rang, the sound bounced against the walls and reverberated in his ears, throwing his whole balance off. Normally, he could shake it off, but tonight, the sound stayed. It stayed longer than when he left the alley it went off in. It stayed longer than it took to apprehend the gang member and throw him on the steps of the 15th Precinct. Now, as Matt patrolled the streets of Hell’s Kitchen in his Daredevil gear, he couldn’t control how loud the noises were in his ears. 

Everything sounded sharp—high pitched in his ears, the kind that happened after attending a loud concert, the kind that stayed around for hours. Unfortunately for his case, it was ten times worse than the normal sound. Because his hearing was tuned up, it confused him when he smelt the different scents of the city—and believe him when he says they are the worst. Pungent garbage filled his nose, slick bitter pavement, rusting metal he can taste in the air. 

It was hard to find his way to her apartment. Now that she knew his secret, she told him her apartment was his for free reign if he ever needed her. He tried not to burden her with his problems as Daredevil—knowing his secret was enough of a burden—so he saved his tickets to go to her apartment when he was desperately in need of her touch. Like he was tonight. 

It was past midnight. He landed on her fire escape and tried his best to hear what she was doing through the windows of her apartment—dammit, the noises of the city were still too loud. He could barely hear anything coming from her apartment. Was she sleeping? Was she awake? He didn’t know, couldn’t tell. Suddenly, his cowl and mask felt too tight around his head, like it was squeezing him until he burst. Matt grunted in frustration as he placed his hands on his helmet. 

“Hey, hey,” the sound of a sliding window filled his ears. Matt flinched from the noise but immediately relaxed when he realized it was her, awake. “Come in.” 

She reached for him to grab her hands, and when she saw him struggle to find her touch, she knew it had been a rough night for him as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Her city’s protector. Her savior. She leaned out the window more and took hold of his strong hands, which now felt so delicate and weak in hers. She helped him step inside, careful not to knock her potted plants over. 

Matt let her guide him to her soft velvet couch. He was too weak and distraught from the gunshot to be able to guide himself. She gently lowered him to sit down, still holding his hands. She placed them in her lap and caressed his calloused, bruised knuckles. She winced at the sight of how purple and red they were, but continued to caress them. She had to be the stronger one now. 

“Rough night?” She whispered. 

“Yeah,” he breathed weakly. “Someone—had a gun,” he uttered, still hearing things all too loudly. She knew how much he hated guns—his sensitive hearing would be affected for hours. She couldn’t imagine the pain he was dealing with now, much worse than the bruises she saw on his hands. 

His face was still beneath the red mask, only his nose and mouth visible. It was probably even worse to be constricted in his suit like this. 

“Let’s get you out of this,” she hushed, knowing even the sound of her voice could make his sense feel worse. She slowly lifted his mask with her thumbs and popped it gently off his face. He looked dazed, now that his senseless eyes were visible. His hair was disheveled from the mask. She brushed her fingers through his chocolate brown locks and he closed his eyes. 

“Shh,” she whispered. “Listen to me. Listen to my voice. Listen to my heart.”

Matt closed his eyes, using all his might to focus his hearing on hers. His ears were still ringing, but soon, after much concentration on the sound of her voice and steady heartbeat, the ringing finally began to fade. His senses went from feeling like a circus to a calm, still river. It was so quiet, that he could even hear his own breathing. And the smells… the smells of the city faded as her scent of lilies and marshmallows filled his nose in the most pleasant way. Everything was now overwhelmingly her. 

She placed her forehead against his, the tips of their noses touching. She kept her hand on the back of his head and caressed his neck. 

“Breathe with me,” she whispered. “Breathe with me.”

“I am,” Matt was finally able to hear his own voice, the sound of the gunshot ringing completely gone. 

“You’re here with me,” she murmured, her lips brushing over his as she spoke. Matt nodded, foreheads still touching. Now that he was touching her, her entire being was encapsulating his senses. His world became her. His reality became her. An escape he never wanted to come back from. 

“What do you hear?” She asked gently, nudging her nose on his cheek. 

“You,” he breathed. “Just you.” 

“Feel better?” She asked when she noticed his breathing had slowed down. He nodded. 

“Yes,” he said softly. “Thank you.”

She kissed him in response, letting her lips linger on his. They tasted salty from his sweat, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care what state he was in—she’d always kiss him. Soon, she asked if he wanted to spend the night with her in her apartment. Matt never agreed to anything faster. After a few moments on the couch, trading touches and chasing kisses, they went to her bedroom, where Matt truly understood what it meant she said they could be each other’s escape. 

[sundrop-writes]

From Your Lips

Jennifer Jareau x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary:

After JJ is attacked by dogs on the Hankle farm, everyone else is busy worrying about Reid’s missing status, but you take the time to check on JJ and try your best to calm her flustered mind.

Jennifer Jareau x Gender Neutral Reader. Established Relationship. Smut, Hurt and Comfort. Set during Season 2, Episode 15.

Word Count: 3,000

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

Warnings: this is set during Season 2, Episode 15 (“Revelations”); warnings for themes/plot points from the canon episode - rabid dogs, mentions of JJ being attacked by dogs, mentions of dogs eating/killing a woman (a random woman who is not named here), animal death - mentions of JJ having to shoot the dogs (killing them) in self defence, gun violence, mentions of Reid being kidnapped (no details of that are discussed in this fic), religious themes (in this fic, religious motifs are used to encourage sexual behaviour - spoken about as though God made us to have sex with each other, not to discourage it as the Christian religion does); symptoms of shock/PTSD - JJ waves a gun in the reader’s face because she’s scared; general emotional angst, mentions of JJ blaming herself for Reid being kidnapped; mentions of blood (from JJ’s injuries); the reader is completely gender neutral - there are no identifying pronouns used for the reader (other than the ‘you’ I generally use for fics) and the reader’s genitals are not described in any specific way; use of Y/N, mentions of a pre-established sexual relationship between JJ and the reader - it could be a friends with benefits situation, it could be secret lovers, it’s never quite specified; JJ is more submissive and the reader is more dominant, but there is no outright dom/sub relationship; the reader calls JJ 'Jay’, 'sweet girl’, 'sweets’, and 'good girl’; using sex to distract from one’s emotional problems; (technically) semi-public sex because they’re in the bathroom where anyone could walk in on them (but they’re not caught by anyone); kissing/heated making-out; the reader fingers JJ; neck biting/marking (JJ receiving); hair-pulling(JJ receiving); praise kink; clothed/mostly clothed sex; I believe that’s everything.

A/N: This was primarily inspired by the picture of JJ on the right. I saw it and I was like 'damn she fine’ but I knew it was from Revelations so I was like 'damn she fine but I know she’s havin a real bad time rn’ - so I did the thing I do best: smut based off emotional trauma. This is basically the scene where Emily comes to talk to her in the bathroom, but replacing Emily with a reader character and then they fuck. Also the title comes from the phrase 'from your lips to God’s ears’ because religious imagery. I had so much fun with this lmao. I hope you enjoy it!

...

You couldn’t help but to feel bad for JJ. 

You knew that everyone was concerned about Reid - rightfully so. Worried about where he was, if he was alive or not. But you were the type of person who preferred to focus on the things you could control - the things right in front of you. JJ was someone you had known for long enough that you knew how to comfort her, and you pushed the ‘what-ifs’ about Reid to the back of your mind in favor of focusing on her. 

You knew that she was intensely shaken up by the entire situation. Not only the fact that she had been nearly mauled by a couple of dogs, pieces of her skin torn up and marred. But it was the fact that the team knew for certain that those same dogs had ripped a woman apart only a few days ago. You knew that JJ hated being forced to shoot those dogs. She was someone with a tender heart. You knew that all of this was affecting her. 

On top of all that, she was likely blaming herself for Reid being put in danger, even though there was nothing she could have done to save him. 

While everyone was gathered in the main room, looking through Hankle’s things for any hint as to where he had taken Reid, you moved toward the back of the house, knowing that JJ had gone to the bathroom to ‘freshen up’. You knew her well enough to easily pick up that it was code for her needing a moment to escape from everyone else in some attempt to calm down. 

The door to the bathroom was open just a crack, so you took a peek, not wanting to startle her by knocking. 

You could see her hunched over the sink, stress knit through her muscles as she gripped the sides of the porcelain. You felt a twinge of guilt flow through you as the thought occurred to you - even in such a state of duress, she was so beautiful. Painted in agony or pleasure, she was gorgeous.

She looked almost angelic like this, and you hated to believe that torture looked good on someone like her. (Perhaps it was the fact that you had seen her ‘tortured’ before - sweaty and begging, half on the brink of madness as she pleaded to get your tongue between her thighs once again.) 

You found your eyes admiring the sliver of skin that peeked out between her white button up and the low waist of her simple black dress pants. You found yourself wanting to actually smack yourself as a form of scolding when you couldn’t help but to admire the gentle dip of her waist and the curve of her ass. 

You felt sinful for thinking such carnal thoughts, even when she was so wrought with stress, clearly so wrecked from the night’s events. 

Perhaps it was the fact that you had come so close to losing her, and now that urge to possess her bubbled closer to the surface than ever. But you pushed it down as you gently nudged open the bathroom door. 

When the creak of the hinges echoed through the room, you certainly did not expect to be greeted with a gun in your face. 

JJ had whipped around much faster than you expected, and pointed her Bureau issued glock right at you. Clearly, she expected you to be a threat. The look in her eyes was positively wild - like a frightened animal being cornered by a fierce predator. Which of course, was something that had happened to her only a few hours before. 

“JJ.” You called out her name, keeping your voice firm, trying to ground her in this reality. 

Her eyes continued darting around, glancing into the hallway behind you as though she was expecting another rabid dog to suddenly appear there. 

“JJ, it’s just me.” You told her, reaching up and gently easing the gun down. 

She was still incredibly tense, so you reached up with your other hand and massaged along the inner part of her wrist with two fingers, getting her muscles to relax enough that she let go of the gun, dropping it into your hand. You made sure the safety was turned on before you placed the gun on the closed toilet lid. Then you turned and closed the bathroom door behind you, sealing the two of you into a quiet bubble to hopefully give her time to calm down. 

JJ let out a harsh breath - a sound that was mostly a sob strangled inside of her chest. She ran her hands through her already wild hair, tears gathering in her eyes once again. She turned to face the wall and you instinctively reached out, running your hands gently across her shoulders. 

One of your hands stayed as a comforting grip on her upper arm and the other rubbed an open palm up and down her back. You hoped you could soothe her in some way. You truly hated how she quivered under your touch, how you could feel those sobs trapped inside of her lungs; the echoes of cries she refused to release because she felt that she needed to put up a strong front. 

“It’s so stupid.” JJ complained. 

Her voice was wet with the unreleased tears as she held her head in her hands, still facing away from you. Her long blonde hair easily created a curtain around her face so that couldn’t properly see her. 

“I grew up with dogs! I had dogs! I love dogs, I would never-” 

“It’s not your fault, Jay.” You pressed, using your affectionate nickname for her. “When people train animals to attack like that, there’s nothing you can do.” You leaned in, gently resting your cheek on her shoulder, assuring her that you were there before you whispered the next words. “You had to shoot them.” 

JJ let out a harsh whimper, clearly struggling even more now with holding back her sobs. You wanted to tell her that it would be okay to cry, but you knew that it would be useless. She was raised as the strong brick wall of a daughter in her family, and she was not used to showing weakness - especially not used to crying. 

“I should have stayed with Spencer.” She announced quietly. “I shouldn’t have let him go off without backup. I should have-” 

“Jay, that’s not your fault either.” You told her firmly, cutting off whatever self blaming rant she was about to go on. 

She muddled in a bitter silence, her arms shaking lightly as she rocked her head back and forth - shaking her head in the negative in response to what you had said. 

She had to believe it was her fault. If Spencer didn’t come back from this, her self blame would only be worse. 

“JJ, look at me.” You demanded gently. She didn’t move, and you reached over and put a hand on her wrist, attempting to pull her hands away from her face. “JJ, please look at me.” 

When your voice warbled out the plea, she finally wavered to your touch, and let you turn her around to face you. You caught a glimpse of the bright red stains soaked into the sleeve of her shirt, splattered up across her front, and you tried to ignore the sickly curl in your gut because of it. 

You had the urge to lift her bandaged forearm up and lay a few kisses on it, like you would have kissed a child’s scraped knee - more so for the emotional comfort than any possible health benefits. But you knew that would have been more for you than for her. 

So instead, you reached out, brushing past that tangled curtain of blonde to gently cup her face with both your hands. You handled her with an intensely delicate touch as you tilted her gaze up from the ground. 

A few tears had managed to escape, and you brushed them away with your thumbs. JJ sniffled quietly, sounding quite small and defeated as she did so. For the first time that night, she felt a slight calm wash over her as the comfort of your presence truly settled in. 

She was eternally grateful to have you there with her. She reached up and gripped onto your wrists, keeping you anchored there. She skimmed her thumbs along the top of your hands, enjoying the smooth feeling of your skin as you stared at her broken face - a tearful angel that made your heart ache for her. 

You were called by the higher purpose to worship that angel - to turn her pain into pleasure.

Before you could stop yourself, you found yourself drifting toward her, leaning in and planting your lips on hers. It certainly wasn’t the first time you had kissed JJ, but it most definitely wasn’t the most opportune. 

She easily returned the kiss, pressing her mouth into yours with a soft neediness. It was when she let out a small moan, the sound vibrating against your lips that you felt that sting of guilty panging at you once again. The fact that lustful heat and your grief for her were colliding so heavily inside of you made you feel like just as much of a monster as the man who had taken Reid and sicked dogs on her. 

You pulled away from the kiss sharply, putting only an inch of distance between the two of you, not letting go of her cheeks. She didn’t let go of the hold she had on your wrists either - you wanted to keep her assured of your presence because she did need the comfort during this hard time. 

“I’m sorry-” You gasped out an apology for kissing her so inappropriately, but JJ, ever the woman to know exactly what she wanted, didn’t let you finish. 

“Don’t apologize.” She ordered sharply. “I need you.” 

She kept her eyes closed, her brows tight with anguish as you gently laid your forehead against hers. 

You couldn’t help but to question it. 

“Now, Jay?” You asked quietly. “Right now?” 

“I need to forget.” She whispered, her words so timid that her breath barely ghosted your lips, even with you so close to her. 

Your heart ached at her tone, and when you didn’t reply or didn’t move to kiss her again, she continued. 

“Every time I close my eyes, I just see… I just see those eyes glowing in the dark. I just hear growling.” She admitted, a few more tears escaping that you rushed to thumb away. “I need to forget it. Please, help me forget.” 

“Anything for you, sweets.” You whispered, using another affectionate nickname for her. 

You leaned in for another kiss, firmer this time. 

You let your instincts take over then - all the lust you had been pushing down rushing to the surface and servicing you well. If she needed to forget, then you would certainly make her. You would make her feel so good that all she would be able to focus on would be the hot blood thrumming through her ears. The medicine that God intended. 

You pushed her up against the edge of the sink, keeping one hand on the side of her face and moving the other to her hip. You skimmed your fingers along that tempting strip of skin right above the waistband of her low-rise pants, causing her to shiver at the teasing touch touch. 

In a moment, your forceful dominance, the way you handled her easily had her moaning into your mouth again, much louder this time. You moved the hand on her cheek around to comb your fingers through her hair. You dug your knuckles in, setting a powerful grip at the base of her skull that held her exactly where you wanted her. It was a tender pain that had her gasping for you as you shoved your tongue past her lips, now on a very determined mission to fuck every last dreadful thought out of her head. 

Your fingertips continued to dance along the waistband of her pants, gently teasing her skin in a great contrast to the forceful movement of your lips. Every single movement was cleverly calculated to make her mind numb. Right down to the way you tugged at her hair and yanked on her bottom lip with your teeth as you pulled away from the kiss, leaving her panting wildly. 

Her eyes were closed much more gently this time, her eyelids fluttering lightly, and you hoped that you had already reduced those nightmarish visions to dust as she relaxed into your touch, buttery under your fingers as always. 

“Thank you,” JJ breathed out, her voice sweet as ever as you bit a path down her neck. You wanted to leave noticeable marks that would stand out among the scratches and bumps she had acquired that night. 

You truly didn’t care if anyone else on the team spotted one of those marks and knew what it was. You were paying tribute to her, leaving your own kind of thank you on her neck as you sucked the soft skin between your teeth. Your fingers finally found the button of her pants and easily popped it open blind, pulling the zipper down in a moment. Without a second of hesitation, you shoved your fingers past the barrier of her simple cotton underwear. 

With one last sharp bite, you moved your head back up from the crevice of her neck then, pressing your forehead against hers once again. You kept that tight grip on the back of her hair, a small hinge of pain that grounded her, that assured her you were there. 

Your fingers easily found her clit, and you made the bold choice to begin rubbing her without wetting your fingers first. You knew that it would be a pleasurable sting that would certainly push any other thoughts from her mind. 

“Oh, fuck, Y/N-” 

JJ gasped, arching her hips away from the edge of the sink to meet your touch, her lips falling open beautifully and her eyes still so gently fallen shut. She looked so fucking angelic like this. 

More tears kissed her lashes as you pressed harder on her clit, moving your fingers in hard, slow circles. You could assure yourself that these were tears from pleasure, not from anguish or pain. You had rewritten the stony hurt inside her muscles, rethreading the cords tight with the need for an orgasm where they were previously pulled tight with stress. 

“Please!” She begged so beautifully when she wanted to. 

It felt like its own unique reward to know that you were one of the only people that all powerful Jennifer Jareau ever begged to. 

You felt her becoming wetter around your fingers, flooding her underwear in response to your simple touches, and there was only one thing you wanted before you would make her cum. 

“Look at me.” You told her, the words quiet on your lips but so utterly full of confident power. 

JJ whimpered in response, not yet opening her eyes, and you stopped the movement of your hand altogether. She let out a very displeased sound and you began slowly pulling back, threatening to leave her hanging (which was a very empty threat in this context - not that she had to know that). It was something that immediately caused her eyes to shoot open as she reached out and grabbed your wrist, holding you in place. She canted her hips up, desperately trying to get your touch back where she needed you most. 

“Please,” She pleaded again, all hot breath and desperation - all for you. 

Staring into those blue eyes, lit with a desperate blaze of lust as she panted out humid breaths across your chin, you were only reminded of the fact that everything you did was for her. Everything in your life was a worship in her name, no act too small to dedicate to such a perfect Goddess. 

“Good girl.” 

You praised her, knowing it was exactly what she needed as you angled your fingers back between her wet folds. You gathered up that wetness, slicking up your fingers before you placed your determined touch right on her throbbing clit. This time, rather than being slow and calculated, you were quick and determined. You made speedy movements that you knew would draw her to the quick finish that would perfectly empty her mind. 

“Always so good for me, Jay.” 

“Thank you, oh! Oh, fuck!” 

She started singing your praises in her own way as your touches sped up, the sound of her wetness just barely muffled by the fabric of her pants and underwear, becoming delightfully sloppy under your fingers. With the way she was unconsciously canting her hips toward you, humping against your hand, you knew she was so close. 

You leaned in, and while looking her in the eyes the whole time, you bit down on her bottom lip and roughly pulled it out, letting the skin snap back in a rough possession of her as she panted and moaned the whole time. 

“Cum for me.” You demanded in a rough growl, finding yourself comparable to one of those rabid dogs. Though you were consuming her in a way that renewed her life, rather than trying to end it. “Cum for me, sweet girl.” 

“Fuck!” JJ cried out, an epic prayer as she spiraled into the all consuming pleasure of her orgasm. 

Though you wanted nothing more than to listen to those beautiful sounds, you had to silence her most pitiful orgasmic cries by clasping your lips over hers. You didn’t want the others hearing - you wanted to keep those sounds all to yourself. You muffled her noises with a tight suction of your mouth as you continued to work her right through the orgasm, keeping a tight grip on her hair the whole time to show her exactly who she belonged to. 

With the crucifix mounted on the bathroom wall, the knowledge of Hankle’s God staring right at you as you did all this - you couldn’t find an ounce of shame inside you. Not now. You could find no better way to honor God than to lovingly dedicate your life to the embodiment of his best work.

...

A/N: Please keep in mind - this is a oneshot, so there will not be a continuation of it or a sequel to it. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work that has been written. I have not written any other fics about JJ at the time of this being posted, but if you like my writing style, definitely feel free to check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist or my other Masterlists.

[stellas-et-abyssum-vincite]

4:04 PM ~ *Wriothesley*

Summary: Siegewinne is worried about Wriothesley being sick. So she goes to the surface to ask the kind doctor for help. And you aren't leaving until he takes his health seriously.

Pairing: Neuvillette X Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluffyish Oneshot

Word Count: 1192

Warning: Illness

Masterlist

Everyone in the Fortress of Meropide could tell something was wrong with Wriothesley. Rumors and speculation circled through the cells as to what the cause could be. Only the Melusines knew for sure what was bothering him.

You see, despite every effort to hide it, Wriothesley was sick.

He had a runny nose, a cough and a splitting headache. He tried to cover it up the best he could and continue his work like normal. However, the Melusines were quick to notice that the Administrator was under the weather. For the better part of the morning, they banded together in an attempt to make him feel better, but all of their efforts were in vain. For when Wriothesley got sick, he got grouchy. Any time a Melusine tried to get close in an effort to help, he would order them away and slam the door in their face. 

This led to Siegewinne making a decision for the benefit of all the Melusines and the prisoners in Meropide. She snuck to the surface and into Fontaine to find medicine and warm food to give him. And that's how she wound up in your apothecary.

"Welcome to the Fontaine Apothecary. How may I be of assistance?" You asked her, a sweet smile on your lips.

"Do you have any medicine I can give someone who is sick with a cold?" She asked, her head tilted to the side as she looked at all of your medicine on the shelves behind you.

You nodded. "I have lots of medicine that can help. Can you describe their symptoms to me?"

Counting on her fingers, she listed his ailments. "He's suffering from the sniffles, a runny nose, a headache, and he has a bad cough."

"I see. Sounds like quite the cold. But I have a home remedy that can relieve his symptoms." As you got to work preparing the medicine, you asked another question of the little Melusine. "Does he have an upset stomach?"

She shook her head. "No, I don't think so. He's never complained of one, that is."

"I see. Well, if you don't mind, I'll prepare some warm soup, as well as give you an assortment of teas that should also help."

"Thank you! Thank you very much!"

"It is not a problem at all!" You assure her.

When your work is done, you place the medicine, soup, and tea into a basket to hand to her. However, as soon as she grabs it, you notice her struggling to carry it out the door. Quickly, you emerged around the counter and gently took the basket from her.

"Do you mind if I carry it? It's awfully heavy."

She shakes her head. "I don't mind. I can lead the way."

"Sounds like an excellent idea. I'll follow you."

And you did, all the way to the Fortress of Meropide. You were a little intimidated by its size and the fact that it is a prison, but you would not be deterred. If this sweet little Melusine was willing to go inside, so would you.

Sigewinne knocked once more on Wriothesley's door and he yelled at her to leave him alone. His sharp words and congested voice made you frown. Instead of heeding his orders, you barged into his office.

"What is the meaning of this?" He snapped, glaring daggers into you.

You simply paid him no mind as you laid the items in the basket on a table in his office. "Your dear friend here was worried about you, so she came to me looking for medicine, which I am providing for you."

"I don't need any medicine." He dismissively replied. "I feel fine."

"Have you eaten at all today?"

"That is none of your concern."

You shrug in response. "Very well. I shall take this soup and tea with me. I'd hate for it to go to waste on someone who is ungrateful for its help."

"Tea?" You could see him pause at your words. "What kind of tea?"

You give him a warm smile, although your eyes show a hint of smugness. "A special blend of chamomile that can cure any cold."

Wriothesley appeared conflicted as he mulled over your words. Eventually he sighed and gestured to the two of you. "Thank you for the medicine, food, and tea. You may go now."

Sigewinne nodded and went on her merry way. But you didn't. Instead, you folded your arms over your chest and nodded to the food and tea.

"I want to watch you eat?"

"You, what?"

"I want to make sure you eat everything I've provided and then you take the medicine I made." You reply. "And I won't take no for an answer."

He scowled before taking the cup of tea you made and drank it one go. "You are stubborn."

"As are you." You replied, a challenging smirk curling the corners of your lips. "Now, are you hungry? You need to eat before you can take your medicine."

He ravenously ate the soup and you offered him the medicine. He looked at it skeptically, but you just frowned. "If you don't take it, I'll force your mouth open to take it."

"You're awfully demanding for someone in the presence of the Administrator to this prison."

"Your friend went through a lot of trouble to make sure you are well again." You snap. "I will not have her efforts go to waste. Now take the damn medicine, or so help me Archons..."

"Fine, fine. Have it your way." He choked down the medicine and grimaced at the taste. "There. Happy?"

You nodded with a smug smile. "I am pleased. Now, I'm ordering you on bed rest for the rest of today and I will be back tomorrow with more medicine."

"You can't just order me around!" He shot back. "I am the Administrator of this prison and a Duke to boot. I should be ordering you around."

You roll your eyes at his little temper tantrum. "You are sick and not in the right frame of mind to be ordering anyone around. That is why you must be on rest, so this prison does not fall into disarray because of poor decisions you make when you are sick. Besides, I am a doctor and I know what's best for my patients to recover."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I don't make poor decisions when I'm sick."

"Fine, don't listen to me. Get more sick and infect your whole prison until you're all sick. But don't say I didn't warn you. Cold like this can spread faster than wildfire. And I will not have their illnesses on my conscience." You shook your head and made your way to the door.

"Wait." His voice made you pause. You turn your head to watch him sigh. "Fine. I will rest if you come back with more medicine tomorrow and teach Sigewinne how to make it."

Your smug smile returns. "There. Now was that so hard? I shall return tomorrow morning with the ingredients for Sigewinne. Until then, you are to get into bed and stay there until my room. Understood?"

"Yes doctor."

[punisheddonjuan]

I knew that this was going to be about the "Lightning Process" before opening the article.

Ms Cousins had reached a career goal many athletes can only dream of - being selected for the Olympics - when she developed long Covid. By the time the cancelled 2020 Olympic Games in Tokyo were rescheduled for 2021, Ms Cousins was too ill to take part. When she went public with her struggles, she was approached by the Lightning Process. It offered her a free place on a three-day course, which usually costs around £1,000. "They were trying to suggest that I could think my way out of the symptoms, basically. And I disputed that entirely," the former rower said.

[...]

In secret recordings by the BBC, coaches can be heard telling patients that almost anyone can recover from long Covid by changing their thoughts, language and actions. Over three days on Zoom, the course taught the ritual that forms the basis of the programme. Every time you experience a symptom or negative thought, you say the word "stop", make a choice to avoid these symptoms and then do a positive visualisation of a time you felt well. You do this while walking around a piece of paper printed with symbols - a ritual the BBC was told to do as many as 50 times a day.

Pray, tell me, how does one "avoid" a symptom.

In some cases the Lightning Process has encouraged participants to increase their activity levels without medical supervision, against official advice - which could make some more unwell, according to NHS guidelines. Lightning Process founder, Dr Phil Parker, who's not a medical doctor but has a PhD in psychology of health, told us his course was "not a mindset or positive thinking approach," but one that uses "the brain to influence physiological changes", backed by peer-reviewed evidence.

I have serious doubts as to the legitimacy of this man's PhD. London Metropolitan University isn't a diploma mill by any means, but I do have questions as to why the only journals willing to publish papers authored by Parker about the Lightning Method are The Journal of Experiential Psychotherapy a Romanian journal from out of the University of Bucharest with ties to something called "therapy of unification (T.U.)" which from what I gather is some sort of Eastern European take on EST, and Explore: The Journal of Science & Healing, a pseudoscientific junk journal that publishes absurd papers like this one, which is featured in their most recent issue: "Birthmarks and birth defects in the head and neck region and claims of past-life memories: Cases in Ian Stevenson's Reincarnation and Biology". Science!

So who exactly is Phil Parker? Well why don't we let him describe himself in his own words in this excerpt from his old website, the memory of which he has desperately tried to erase.

Phil Parker is already known to many as an inspirational teacher, therapist, healer and author. His personal healing journey began when, whilst working with his patients as an osteopath. He discovered that their bodies would suddenly tell him important bits of information about them and their past, which to his surprise turned out to be factually correct! He further developed this ability to step into other people’s bodies over the years to assist them in their healing with amazing results. After working as a healer for 20 years, Phil Parker has developed a powerful and magical program to help you unlock your natural healing abilities. If you feel drawn to these courses then you are probably ready to join.

Oh so he's a quack and con artist. Anyway back to the BBC article:

The coach on the course we attended said "thoughts about your symptoms, your worry about whether it's ever going to go - that's what keeps the neurology going." [...] Dr Camilla Nord, a neuroscientist at the University of Cambridge, disputed these claims. She said the Lightning Process was "right that the brain can create symptoms of physical ill health" but added: "I think it's a wild claim to say there's nothing wrong with your body." [...] The coach on the course stressed the importance of avoiding negative thoughts and words like "pain" and "fatigue", claiming using them can continue symptoms. "I'm afraid now we've strayed very, very far from neuroscience," Dr Nord says, calling this an "abuse" of scientific terms. When we put these specific claims to Dr Parker, he said our questions seemed to be "informed solely by the rumours and misinformation" circulated by what he called "anti-recovery activists".

Fucking incredible.

I won't get into it here because I'm saving it for a longer post, but psychiatrists, doctors, insurance companies and governments all went to bat for this man and his trademarked process that claimed to cure ME/CFS and all sorts of other chronic conditions. It's cheap! The structure of the treatment lays all the blame as to the origin of the illness onto the patient and if they don't get better, well, they're malingering and that's reason enough to cut their benefits. Millions of dollars were wasted running studies (a few involving children) that left patients worse off because the Lightning Process was deemed "cost effective" as a treatment. And it's still being championed as a "cure" and marketed to desperate people who have been ignored by the medical establishment or who otherwise can't access quality healthcare. And for whatever reason the Lightning Process is all the rage in Denmark, Norway and parts of Germany when it comes to treatment for ME. Make of that what you will.

[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter Six: Prophetic Girl

The Pariahs That Saved The World

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: canon-events (demobats), some fluffy bits in this one, vecna's curse, not proof-read

[A/N: Oh my goodness, the procrastinator has returned- Whew, thank you all for your patience! I finally found some time to finish the next chapter; I really didn't want to rush anything so just know this one was created with every ounce of love <3)

Prophetic Girl

You don’t know why you dived into the water with the others.

You weren’t a particularly strong swimmer, nor did you have a heroic nature urging you to help save a friend.

The look Robin gave you as her best friend was dragged under the water was probably the culprit, ripping open your heart with her absolute terror.

That was the scariest part of it all. The emotional discipline you had forced upon yourself over the past year could be shattered in seconds from just one look, reigniting a feeling you thought was lost forever. And god dammit, you would do anything to make sure that feeling never got away from you again.

“Steve!” Robin screams as you pull yourself out of the gate, wiping the water from your face.

The Upside Down. It wasn’t like you expected it to be. You know they had described it as a reflection of Hawkins, a darker universe than the one you resided in, yet part of you always assumed there’d be something strangely beautiful about this place. But you were here now, rushing to the others to help them fight off the local bats, looking around with nothing but disgust on your face.

Perhaps you couldn’t find the beauty in everything after all.

You barely reached the others before Eddie was shouting behind you. Duck? In the last second, you mange to crouch to the ground and avoid something with claws flying over your head, screeching into the dark sky. You blink. Was that a…

“Bats!” Eddie exasperates, grabbing an oar from the ground and charging full speed at the one swinging back for a second time.

It was a chaotic blur of stress and adrenaline, somehow batting away small razor sharp teeth and wrestling against their surprisingly slimy bodies. You had managed to pull one from Nancy’s back and drive your boot down on its head before Robin pulled you away from an attack, Eddie’s oar quick to slam it to the ground.

Steve was bitten pretty badly, the first thing you observed as he spat out the head of a bat, panting. You thought Eddie was about to explode from excitement, looking at you with wide eyes and suppressing a smile. How he managed to find joy even in hell, you would never know.

“You okay?” Robin’s hand shook as she places both hands on her best friend’s shoulders, worried eyes searching his. He lets out a breathy laugh and nods, her body practically depleting in relief.

“You’re sure?” Nancy prompts, and he examines himself closer, still nodding. “Took about a pound of flesh but, uh, other than that… never better.”

You let out a sigh and wipe your brow, watching as Robin crouches beside you to shine a light on a bat corpse.

“Uh, do you guys think these bats have, like, rabies?” Robin questions, looking up at you with a frown.

“What?” Steve gapes, and you suck in your lips.

“It’s just that rabies are, like, my number one greatest fear.” She explains, standing back up, “And I think we should get you to a doctor really soon because once symptoms set in, it’s too late. You’re already dead.”

Both Steve and Nancy look at her in exasperation, their features clearly telling that they didn’t appreciate Robin’s spiralling input. You start to smirk.

“Or you’ll become a vampire.” You offer with a grin and he mockingly nods his head.

“We need to get you patched up.” Nancy states, looking dishevelled from the fight, looking around, “Maybe we can-”

The trail of thoughts were lost as you all watch another group of bats fly down to where the gate rested, tearing at it. You squint your eyes, focusing. What were they doing?

“Uh, guys?” Eddie interrupts, and you turn to see him staring at the sky, your eyes widening. “I think we need to get out of here.”

“Nah, there’s not that many, we can take ‘em.” Steve breathes out, wincing when you lightly tap him. But it draws everyone else’s focus up to the sight that had you and Eddie stood in fear.

As your eyes fixate on the litter of shapes between the warm clashes of red and blue, you quickly start to nod, grabbing Eddie by the shirt and pulling him into a run as you all silently agree to a fast escape.

“The trees!” You yell, pointing to your left and you all head for the treeline, ducking for cover just as the bats attempt to swoop down, blocked by the thick expanse of wood.

You all manage to huddle under the flipped version of Skull Rock, panting as the bats fly past with no prey in their sight.

“That… was more cardio than I paid for.” Robin gasps and you collapse against a rock, catching your breath.

Nancy was quick to start patching Steve up despite his polite objections. You even raised an impressed eyebrow when she rips off the hem of her shirt to substitute bandages with fabric, sharing a look of awe with Eddie.

Out the corner of your eye, you see Robin trying to calm Steve down in a way that would have you smiling. But Steve didn’t look to be in the smiling nature.

Calmly, you place a hand on her shoulder and gently guide her away, the girl giving you a smile.

Instead of berating her best friend with a million facts and questions that would probably stress him out, she took a seat on the ground opposite you, her smile noticeably less bright when Eddie plops directly beside you, groaning.

“So… anyone got a blunt?”

“Jesus Christ.” You groan with a smirk, eyeing him with amusement. “You seriously think now is a good time to be getting high?”

“I personally think this is the best time to get high.” He says with confidence, stretching out his legs.

“You’re an idiot.” You say, adoration in your voice that made Robin’s skin crawl.

“Ouch.” He mockingly holds his hand to his heart, “I wasn’t treated this way when you needed a smoke after you rear-ended Mrs Click’s car-”

“Shut up!” You hiss with laughter, gently shoving him away from you and he chuckles, shoving back.

As she watched the two of you tease one another with an ease that made her queasy, Robin’s brows furrowed. You were both much closer than she had hoped for.

“Why did you guys break up?”

The quiet laughter broke into silence, inquisitive eyes suddenly set on hers. She feels her ears burn, quickly swooping her hair forward to conceal them.

“Thank you for asking.” Eddie claps his hands like it was an interview and you roll your eyes, immediately easing the tension. “Well, you see, we were like, what? 15? 15. It was cute, very short, and we realised we were better friends. Right?”

“That’s about it.” You shrug, smiling. Your eyes land on hers with a lightness to them that made her heart swoon.

“So why did you even get together in the first place?” She frowns, face dropping when his eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, god, that sounded meaner than it did in my head.”

“We hadn’t really tried the friend part yet.” You chuckle, and Eddie hums.

“Too blinded by our mutual hatred for King Steve and his merry band of idiots.”

“So you could say Steve brought us closer together.” You quip and Robin suppresses a laugh.

“One of you say my name?” Steve suddenly asks and you all fall into laughter, ignoring the boy’s curious frown.

After a while, Eddie shakes his head and jumps up to stalk over to a fallen tree trunk, inspecting it.

“He’s pretty cool.” Robin sighs, watching him step up onto the wood and survey the land like an explorer.

“Yeah.” You look over your shoulder with a smile, something like sadness flickering across your face for just a fleeting moment. If Robin didn’t find herself completely captivated with every movement you made, she would have missed it completely. Was it… regret? Did you regret the break up? Did you want him back-

“So, uh…” Eddie’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts as you all turn to where he stood at the tip of the tree trunk. “This place is like Hawkins, but with monsters and nasty shit?”

“Pretty much.” Nancy responds, grunting a little as she attempts to shift some of Steve’s weight onto her. “Wait, watch out for the vines. It’s all a hive mind.”

“It’s all a what?”

“All the creepy crawlies around here, dude. They’re like, one or something.” Steve tries to explain, wincing as he brushes his hand over the bandages.

“I repeat, it’s all a what?” Eddie frowns and you stand up, grimacing.

“Uh, step on a vine, you step on literally everything else at the same time and then, well, evil wizard comes to snap our bones.” You shrug, his mouth parted in shock as he nods slowly in recognition.

“Shit.” He simply says, starting his descent.

“But everything from our world is still here, right? Except people, obviously?” Robin appears beside you, her arm brushing against yours.

“As far as I understand it, yeah.” Nancy nods and you can practically hear the cogs turning in Robin’s mind, humming with excitement.

“So, theoretically, we could go to the police station and steal guns and grenades and whatever we need to blow up those bat things that are guarding the gate.” She suggests and you vigorously nod along to her idea, loving where her mind was at.

“I highly doubt the Hawkins PD has grenades, Robin. But guns, yeah, sure.” Steve rolls his eyes and you hum.

“I don’t know, I definitely think Hopper would stash grenades somewhere.” You say and Nancy tilts her head in acknowledgement, silently agreeing.

“Well, we don’t have to go all the way downtown for guns.” Nancy says and you raise your eyebrow. “I have guns. In my bedroom.”

“You,” Eddie jumps down with surprise, brows furrowed. “Nancy Wheeler, have guns, plural, in your bedroom?”

“Full of surprises, isn’t she?” Robin grins.

Eddie doesn’t look convinced.

“Be a sceptic, but I watched her shoot at a demogorgon that was emerging from the ceiling.” You snort, crossing your arms. “And I gotta tell ya, Nancy owning guns is the least surprising thing in that sentence.”

“A Russian Makarov and a revolver.” Nancy confirms.

“Yeah, you almost shot me with that one.” Steve comments, getting closer.

Nancy starts to smile, turning her head to him. “You almost deserved it.”

They share a look and you twist your face. “Gag me with a spoon.”

“I got it.” Eddie says, slipping off his denim vest and launching it at Steve, the boy barely catching it before it hit his face. “For your modesty, dude.”

You almost laughed at his face until the ground violently shook beneath you, throwing you off balance and sending you crashing into Robin. She tried her best to catch you, but she was already falling to the ground, your body laying on top of her and you both squeezed your eyes shut until the earthquake stopped.

“What… the hell… was that?” You pant, turning your head to see Robin’s wide eyes staring back at you. For a second, you couldn’t peel your eyes away, closer than you ever would have imagined.

The moment was short-lived, a chorus of snarls and screeches echoing through the woods like an omen.

“Yeah, so guns seem like a pretty good idea to me.” Eddie gasps.

“Yeah me too.”

“Me three.”

You and Robin both reply as you peel away from eachother, avoiding eye contact like neither of you had any kind of self-restraint.

It was impossible not to notice a particular pair of eyes on you as your own stayed glued to the ground, unfamiliar with the Upside Down and its tricks. For anyone to be watched would be somewhat discomforting, but not in this particular instance. Because, for as long as you can remember now, anytime she’s looked away, your eyes have been returning the favour.

“Did you wanna say something?”

You finally break the silent streak occurring between you and Robin, her sheepish smile brightening her face once she realises she’s been caught.

“I, uh…” She fumbles around for an excuse, letting out a low whistle. “Was just making sure you’re okay. That’s all. Nothing weird.”

“Why do you keep asking me that?” You laugh, catching her eyes and she almost melts. “Do I not look okay?”

“You look amazing.” Robin shakes her head, blinking when she realises what she just said. “Uh, I didn’t mean that. Not that you don’t look amazing, you do, even after all of that. Not in a weird- what I meant to say was I don’t think you aren’t okay, I was just…”

She lets out a groan and you laugh again.

“I’ve just dragged you into this and I can’t help thinking it will be my fault if you aren’t okay.”

“Robin.” You carefully step over a vine, clearing your throat. “Before you showed up at my door, I was already deciding that I was going to help.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You bite your lip, shrugging. “The, uh, the first time Nancy asked me to help, I wasn’t thinking straight. I just wasn’t in the mood to try and save a town that I hated. It was… complicated.”

“What changed your mind?”

“My gran.” You smile, albeit sadly. “I suddenly realised that I’ve lost too many people here. Even if… even if I don’t belong here, the people living in this town don’t deserve to die. I can’t just leave when people I care about are in danger.”

“So my whole speech was just for nothing?”

“Not for nothing.” You shake your head, suddenly sending her a smirk. “It was very entertaining.”

“Shut up.” Robin giggles, nudging your arm playfully.

As she does, her joy momentarily distracts her from her own very important mission: do not trip.

It almost cost her, glancing down at the last second to come to a screeching halt, the toes of her boots a fraction away from brushing the side of a vine. Her sudden stop itself threw her off balance, and she felt herself falling back.

Until your hands reached out and caught hers, pulling her closer to you before she fell victim to gravity completely.

“Thanks.” She says breathlessly, and you can only nod, looking down to where your fingers interlocked hers.

Clearing your throat, you take your hands back and offer a smile, ignoring the sickly sweet feeling of your heartbeat drumming a little faster than it had been before your hands found someone’s to hold.

“Gotta be careful.” You whisper, returning your eyes to the path and moving towards Nancy’s silhouette up ahead. Robin stood there for a moment longer, biting her lip.

She was just torturing herself now. Either she said something, prayed for some kind of miracle, or she moved on. There was no point living in this romance limbo when there were more important things to worry about.

Her feet were tired by the time you reach the Wheeler house, shifting in her shoes as Steve takes the flashlight from her and clicks it on, the door creaking beneath his push.

The interior reflected its exterior, dark and covered head to toe with vines that made her grimace at the sight.

“Might be time to get a maid, Wheeler.” Robin jokes, almost jumping when she hears you shut the door.

“Sorry.” You mouth, walking into the space. “Wow. Love the décor.”

“Come on,” Nancy tilts her head to the staircase, “I don’t want to stay here longer than we have to.”

She starts bounding up the steps, and Robin gives you a shrug before she and Eddie start to follow up, your own footsteps behind Steve’s. Except, for some reason, he stops.

“Hello?” You crane your neck around to where he’s shining the flashlight at nothing. “Earth to Steve?”

“Shhh.” He whispers, holding a finger to his lips. You frown. “I hear something.”

“Oh god.” Your shoulders slump. “You’re not hallucinating, are you? Because I can’t be the one to tell Robin the rabies got you.”

“Just… shut up.” He says, slipping past you and moving to the corner. “It’s him.”

Any sarcastic quips you had rattling around your brain were pushed away, fear flooding your body. “Vecna?”

“What? No, no.” He shakes his head, holding his finger in the air. “Henderson.”

“Hend-” You stop, tilting your head. “You can hear Dustin?”

“Just…” He sighs and waltz over to you, placing a hand on your back and moving you to where he was previously stood.

“Oh, hey, Y/n, come over here.” You mumble as you shrug his hand off of you. “What am I-”

“Just listen.” He says and you sigh, shutting your mouth and entertaining the idea.

For a moment, nothing.

And then the voice whispers around you, muffled, and most definitely Dustin’s.

“Holy shit.” You breathe out and Steve nods furiously. “Holy shit.”

“Dustin!” He starts to shout and you join him, the both of you shouting around the space. “Dustin!”

Once they hear your yelling, the other three are running down the stairs, Robin’s heart beating fast, assuming that the minute she left you had been attacked and there would be no way to-

“What the…” Eddie mutters and she widens her eyes in disbelief.

“Dustin! Hello?!”

The two of you are yelling at the walls and ceilings, making her blink.

“Maybe he really does have rabies.” She comments and Eddie frowns.

“Is it contagious?” He asks and she tilts her head, still fixated on the shouting frenzy.

“Only if he bit her.”

“Hello?” Dustin?!”

“Guys, what are you doing?” Nancy interrupts your next cry for the young boy and you turn to them, breathing heavy.

“We heard Dustin.” You breathlessly explain and Steve nods behind you, still shouting.

“He's here. Henderson. That little shit, he's here. He's like... He's in the walls or something. Just listen.” Steve grins at them before walking away, continuing his call. “Dustin!”

“Uh…” You stare as he spins around in a circle. “He might look crazy, but I promise he’s right. Listen.”

You watch the realisation fall over their faces, making you smile.

They fan out, calling out his name and following in Steve’s lead, trying to communicate with the boy on the other side.

As you go to join them, you catch something out of the corner of your eye, reflecting on the glass of the window. You can still hear Dustin’s voice droning in and out, like a radio that hadn’t been sent to the right frequency. But it didn’t sound the same as before. Something was different.

Your refection was blurry, making you squint. Goosebumps started to trail across your skin, making you shiver. It wasn’t your reflection.

Robin was the only to see how you blinked into a state of paralysis, immediately calling out for help as she rushes over to you.

It seemed like Vecna had something else to say.

Chapter Seven: We Are The Pariahs

taglist: @kryztalglear . @learninglinesintherainn . @officerrrfriendly . @a-simpfortessa-lesbriean . @spacedoutdaydreamer . @endurexxsurvive . @em16cor . @gray-cheese . @chaosofmanyfandoms . @kitdjarin1 . @some-day--some-how . @cultish-corner . @marirxse .

[strongheartneteyam]

Realize where you belong.

Pairing: neteyam sully x female!dreamwalker!reader/female!human!reader

Chapter 6

CW: lots of angst, jealousy is not even the right word to describe neteyam's state anymore, emotionally hurt neteyam, yandere neteyam, reader has a hard time trying to fight her feelings for neteyam, mentions of using someone with the intention of forgetting someone else, mild violence, mentions of sexual fluids, possessive and territorial neteyam, mentions of depressive symptoms, use of alcohol, feelings of fear, tension, confessions of love, fluff. I think that's all (??)

✨ IM BACK ✨ I can't even believe I managed to finally update this fanfic! 😂 All of a sudden I spent days on end being a 24/7 nurse for my spayed kitten and didn't have time for anything + having to give her 2 different pills at 2 different times, all during the am hours, plus another one in the morning, left me SOOO sleep deprived. It was horrible. Thank God she doesn't have to take the pills anymore. ANYWAY lol Guys, in the beginning of the chapter until the middle of it, I think, I know you guys are gonna want to murder me or reader or both (you know that y/n meme with the pic of the blonde girl "choking" her own shadow in the wall, saying like "babe this is not us" or smth? so… pretty much that! lol) BUT I PROMISE it's gonna be really good in the end 🥲 trust me, please 🥺 it's the moment most of us (yes, me included!) have been waiting for! 💕 Also, this is a longer chapter, compared to the usual. Maybe a compensation for my absence? Idk! lol I just hope you guys like it! haha OKAY if I say anything else, it'll be a spoiler lol love y'all to death!!! my readers are my babies, my lil angels… I truly freaking love you guys so much!!! 🫀⚘

Not proofread.

Chapter 5

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

I can see you standing, honey, with his arms around your body

Laughin', but the joke's not funny at all

(...)

I can see you staring, honey, like he's just your understudy

Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me

Second, third, and hundredth chances

Balancin' on breaking branches

Those eyes add insult to injury 

exile (Taylor Swift, Bon Iver)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The air was thick and chaotic at the Olo'eyktan's hut that morning. Everyone seemed to be a bit too restless, either getting ready to go show up to their duties to the clan, like Neytiri, or thinking about some personal struggle, like Kiri, who was lost in thought, looking a bit sad. But she was also mixing some herbs and flowers, preparing a thick, violet colored substance that was used to treat wounds, that she would later give to Neytiri. Kiri would always help Neytiri a lot, assisting her in her Tsahìk position in the Omatikaya clan.

But Neteyam still stood out among the whole family. He was unmistakably grumpy that morning, Lo’ak noticed, as he was - once again - watching the weird way his older brother was behaving. Neteyam was not being his usual calm and caring self. He was not trying to take care of everyone, not giving out smiles and trying to cheer his siblings up. He was even distracted when Jake was giving him instructions about how today's training would go and giving him other orders, like telling him to keep an eye on Tuk whenever he's able to, as she was growing and becoming even smarter, more energetic and mischievous and was starting to get into more trouble, sometimes even picking fights with other girls in the clan, becoming a bit too much like Lo'ak, which had been making Jake rub the sides of his forehead in worry lately, way more often than he liked to admit.

"The Mighty Warrior, distracted when dad is telling him what to do?! What the fuck is happening?!" Lo'ak thought. Something was very wrong. And Lo’ak was determined to find out what it was.

Neteyam sat with his legs slightly open, his hands were crossed, his elbows resting on his knees. He had a lost stare in his eyes, gazing at the nothingness, looking like he was mad at someone who had just maybe punched him in the face.

He did not know how to deal with it all, that turmoil of emotions you were causing inside him felt overwhelming to the Sullys first born. He had taken on just so many challenges throughout his life and conquered most of them, but he feared you were gonna be a war that he might lose. He had to admit it bruised his ego. Suddenly, he did not feel like such a Mighty Warrior after all. An adversary that most people would judge as a weak one compared to him, a mere human girl, so small in comparison to his size, was defeating him. Suddenly all his skills with bows, arrows, big knives and even big, intimidating shotguns were not enough.

And Neteyam felt lost. He did not know what to do. For the first time in his life, his rational and smart brain could not seem to produce a war strategy that could help him win. Win you. He felt just like a wounded warrior, bleeding on the floor.

༊⁀➷

You decided to finally answer Derek’s messages today, after ghosting him for a while. You were feeling weird and lonely. And shaken. God, still so shaken... What the hell happened last night? Did that really happen? Was it all just a dream? You could swear those words Neteyam Suli had given you, about how he was in love with you, that his hauntingly tall and broad figure, vulnerable, kneeling on the ground in front of you, telling you he could tell you desired him too, had all been just part of a weird, eerie, anxious, borderline wet dream.

You knew very well what you were doing to Derek. You were using him to forget about the mess Neteyam was making of you. You knew that was wrong and you did feel guilty and ashamed. But you also knew you had to step back into your old reality, into that familiar world, into your comfort zone, a place where there were only regular human guys interested in you, not that current unsettling reality you were living in - you could still swear it had all just been a dream. Or a nightmare, perhaps. You were not sure -, where there was an almost 10 feet tall alien boy pursuing you, declaring his love and his nearly inappropriate desire for you, talking about the intimate parts of your body in a way that made you uncomfortable, anxious but... that lured you in too, at the same time. You needed an escape from it all. Your already disturbed mind did not seem able to deal with those facts at that moment and Derek seemed like the perfect distraction. 

Damn, what had you become? That was not ethical or moral at all - using a human being like a tool to distract you from your conflicting emotions - but you did not seem to be capable of caring too much about being ethical or moral at that time. Your whole perception of the world seemed to be changing. You felt bedazzled and unsteady. You did not want to admit to yourself that you were starting to feel too much for Neteyam, that you were running away from your feelings like a thief runs away with an expensive item he just robbed. No, you were not in love with him. How could that even be? Everybody knew the na’vi don’t get romantically involved with humans. Your races were more like enemies than buddies. There were only a few humans who were loyal to the na'vi and maintained a somewhat close relationship with them, but never a romantic one. What was making you and Neteyam feel like that for each other? That could only bring problems and you sure as hell did not want more trouble in your already complicated life.

You would be better off sticking to a human male instead. It was safe and familiar. It did not make your anxiety skyrocket. But it also did not excite you a single bit. Derek caused you nothing. You could barely even feel actually turned on when he touched your body and kissed your lips. It was just like he was a habit you had gotten used to, making out with him here and there, to numb the pain you felt inside your heart almost all the time. His biggest efforts to make you wet never seemed to work. Meanwhile, Neteyam got you wet without having ever touched you. That sure spoke loud enough. 

So why were you rejecting Neteyam and going after Derek?

Maybe you felt too afraid to take a risk, to follow your heart. God knows following that damn reddish muscular organ had put you in the worst situations possible in the past. You felt numb but you felt safe. And safe felt good. Bearable, at least. You were afraid if you gave into what you felt for Neteyam you just might explode. The feelings were that strong. You did not know what to do to try and ignore that tiny but extremely annoying creature inside your brain that would always be whispering “What if something actually good came out of it? Take a risk. For once in your life, don’t play it safe.”

But you were choosing to play it safe, anyway. At least this afternoon. You were gonna meet Derek, after two weeks without doing so, and just hang out, eat junk food, drink some alcohol and talk about non important things, just laugh and be silly, like you two always used to do. He was a good friend. Too bad he never made any type of fire light up inside of you, not even in the very beginning of your rendezvous, that’s why you never got to have sex with him. You were simply not interested. At all, to be honest. You wondered why you still insisted on being physically intimate with him. There were many things in your life that you did and did not really think too much about. They were just pure routine, they just kinda happened and you let them, almost like you weren't really living your life, but only a mere spectator to the events that were happening to you. And it seemed like you felt too emotionally numb to put an end to them. Your involvement with Derek was one of those things. He started to flirt with you one day, you were bored and you thought "why not?" and now, months later, you were still caught in this situation. If anyone asked you if there was any other reason why you were gonna see Derek today other than to try and get Neteyam out of your mind, you honestly couldn't say there was. It was crystal clear to you that, even though you were fighting like crazy to deny your feelings for Neteyam, you were indeed falling for him.

But how could that be? Some days ago, he was only an Omatikaya famous warrior - and, oh, let's not forget, the next Olo'eyktan of their clan - that you had only heard people talk about.

༊⁀➷

Neteyam was up in one of the highest tree branches he could find that day. He did not want anybody to see him, as usual, but he also did not want you to know he was watching you, either. He knew you were now aware of his constant presence around you. He knew you were not oblivious to his love anymore.

The sun was harassing his eyes, so he put his hand over them and squinted hard to try and see if the guy next to you, in the laboratory’s cafeteria, was really who he thought it was. When his eyes could get a better view, once the sun was not bothering them so much anymore, he felt something sinking in his stomach and his heartbeat accelerated considerably.

He had just confirmed who the guy was. It was that disgusting little human male that liked to act like you were his mate. Neteyam hissed ferociously, his protruding na’vi fangs looking scarier than ever, as his wide feline eyes watched Derek leaning close to your face and kissing your lips. Neteyam wanted to die - or maybe kill Derek - when he noticed you kissed him back.

༊⁀➷

You forced a smile while looking at Derek, after you had the initiative to break that damn kiss who seemed to never end. He seemed satisfied with the fact that you two had just kissed, contrary to what you were feeling. You honestly felt like you wanted to throw up. All you could think about was how it would feel to kiss Neteyam, to smell his scent again, that was so abundantly different from what you were used to, but that fact only seemed to make you want him even more.

You looked away to try and forget the ridiculous mistake you were making by being with Derek at that moment. You were looking at the ground and your gaze moved upwards. Now your eyes were directed towards the outside of the lab. What you saw startled you beyond reason. Neteyam was squatting, up in the branches of a huge tree, not too close but not too far from the part of the laboratory you and Derek were currently in. His fangs were out, seeming bigger than ever, as he hissed ferociously. Neteyam's animalistic side had completely taken over him and you could tell.

A chill ran down your spine. You could feel in your guts something bad was about to happen.

Your heart throbbed in pain as you saw how hurt he was now that he had seen you kissing Derek, even after he - Neteyam - had confessed his feelings for you in such a vulnerable way last eclipse. You saw in his eyes how betrayed he felt, like you were just silently telling him that his love did not matter at all to you and you'd rather be with any other guy but him.

༊⁀➷

"Hey, I'm going outside for a while, 'kay?" Derek spoke as he got up from the place he had been sitting, beside you, kissing your cheek "The boys are gonna meet me behind the lab in a while. "

Oh, no. Derek would not be safe if he went outside. Not with Neteyam spilling hate for him out of his soul like that. You had to try and find a way to keep Derek inside.

"Oh." You said, not being able to conceal your nervousness "Why don't you wait for them to actually get there before you go?!" You almost begged, visibly tense

"God, you seem nervous." He chuckled slightly, seeming uncomfortable " Is everything alright?"

"Yeah! I just want you to spend some more time with me." You pouted at him, coming up with an excuse to try and keep Derek from going out of the lab

"Sorry, sugar. It was nice hanging out and stuff but I really need to go now." He was already walking fast towards the door before you could try and talk him out of that stupid idea

You couldn't let any of the people in that cafeteria know something was up, so, you pretended everything was alright and finished eating your chips and took the last sip of your canned whisky and coke and stood up, walking slowly (when you actually wanted to freaking run) in the direction of the lab's metal door that led to outside.

You put your oxygen mask on, took a deep breath and walked out the door. 

You heard a noise, it was like a really heavy object falling to the floor. You also heard some strong thuds.

When you started to walk around to try and see what was happening, you realized your fear had become reality. Neteyam was sitting on top of Derek’s squirming body, his toned, striped thighs straddling Derek’s torax. You gasped when you realized Derek was no longer wearing his oxygen mask and Neteyam's huge hand was over Derek's mouth, preventing him from screaming for help. Neteyam looked at him like a hunter looks at their prey, while his big fangs and loud hisses put fear in the human boy's eyes. Derek was completely terrified.

Your heart beat sped up insanely and your hands were now cold as ice. You were afraid for Derek’s life.

You knew that the way Neteyam was taking out his frustration and jealousy on Derek was indescribably far from okay but still, as cruel to Derek as it seemed, you still felt incredibly sorry for the Omatikaya in front of you.

At the end of the day, you had a big percentage of blame for what he was doing right now. You were confused and afraid and torn but you knew to whom your heart belonged and it was not Derek. So why the hell were you being so selfish to the point of hurting two boys at the same time just because you didn't know how to deal with your own feelings? You realized it was time for you to stop being a coward and put an end to that madness.

You could tell Neteyam was not okay mentally and you knew that you were being toxic too, that you were contributing for his mental state to get worse with your indecisiveness and fear, despite his efforts to show you he would never hurt you. You wanted to stop hurting him and help him instead, to finally let go and admit to yourself and to him that yes, despite the way you had been acting, you were in love with him too.

"Neteyam, don't!! Let him go, please!!" You shouted, running towards the human and the na'vi boy.

You finally got close to Neteyam. He stopped and looked at you, his eyes so fiery, the calm golden pools they always used to be were now boiling with feelings of anger, jealousy, hurt and betrayal.

"For me! Please?" You pleaded him, looking deep into his eyes while stroking his strong blue arm

You watched that beast inside of Neteyam slowly calm down, as his feline ears pointed downwards and his eyes became softer. He moved his hand away from Derek’s mouth and the human boy let out a series of labored breaths. Neteyam slowly got off of him, revealing his beyond intimidating height as he stood up, and stepped away from him.

You walked as fast as you could to where Derek's oxygen mask was laying on the floor and picked it up, checking if was broken (it wasn't! Thank you, Universe.) and went back to where he was lying down and gave it back to him.

Neteyam watched your movements and felt jealous when you got close to Derek, so, once you got back to the place where you were standing before, Neteyam stood right next to your arm. His instincts told him to mark his territory.

Derek swiftly put it back on. He was almost completely out of breath. Derek breathed in deep once the mask was covering his face, taking in all the oxygen he possibly could.

"Are you okay?" You looked down at Derek’s body, searching for any visible wounds. There were none, at best. "God, I'm so sorry about this…"

"Yeah, I'm fine, somehow." Derek seemed afraid, shocked, frustrated and angry, all simultaneously, as he got off the floor and got back on his feet

"Please, don't tell anyone that you saw Neteyam or that he tried to hurt you, okay?"

"What the fuck?!! This psycho almost tried to kill me!! Why are you defending him?!"

Neteyam hissed at him when he heard what he had just called him but you squeezed his arm and he looked at you, remembering your pleas were the thing that were keeping him from killing that small, pink male. Even though it hurt him deeply that you were protecting that human, he couldn't bring himself to ignore you when you were begging him not to hurt Derek. You had Neteyam in the palm of your hand.

"You don't understand! If you let anyone in that lab know what Neteyam did to you, the RDA will eventually know about it too! Do you understand how serious this is? Do you wanna see Neteyam dead?!" You urged him, looking deep into his eyes "You could even help start another war between the humans and the na'vi. Do you understand that it is a much bigger issue than it seems to be? Just forget about what happened and I'll make sure Neteyam won't ever try to hurt you again."

Derek smirked in contempt 

"How can you be so sure he will listen to you?"

"I know he will! He loves me. And… I love him too."

Derek’s face had a big question mark all over it now and his mouth fell open.

Neteyam seemed to be shocked for a while. He did not expect you to say that, at all. He thought you would never love him back. Neteyam couldn't seem to believe those words had actually just come out of your mouth.

You breathed in deep, trying to stay calm amidst all that chaos "This thing between us…" You looked at Derek "It's over. I don't know why I was still insisting on it, I never even felt attracted to you, in the first place. I'm sorry."

"I'm outta here! All of this shit that's going on… feels like a fucking nightmare"

"Can you do as I said and not tell anyone about Neteyam? Nobody, ever? Please?!" You were nervous, brows furrowed, talking fast

"Okay!! Just let me go now! I think it's better if you and I keep some distance from each other from now on. I don't want your crazy na'vi boyfriend trying to kill me again." 

Neteyam hissed at Derek again when he heard the word "crazy" and Derek rapidly looked at him, startled, but couldn't be brave enough to spend more than some seconds staring at him, so, he swiftly looked away 

"Neteyam, please!! He's going already." You looked at Neteyam, a bit angry and impatient, asking him to calm down "Just go, Derek." You spit out and sighed, feeling physically and mentally drained after having to stop that stupid fight

Derek finally turned his back to you and Neteyam and left.

You looked at Neteyam. His eyes were glued on you. Those pretty amber eyes. His face wasn't full of hatred and anger anymore. His demeanor was much calmer now. His body language radiated love towards you. His tail was wagging softly. You felt pain and regret consuming your chest. How could you have treated Neteyam so badly last night? You realized now you couldn't hold him to the same standards you hold human males. The na'vi are animalistic beings, in spite of their high intelligence. And worse, how could you be irresponsible enough to kiss Derek even not actually wanting to, making Neteyam see it and get as hurt as he did? You sure were being trashy.

"My tawtute…" he cooed as he turned to look in your eyes "I won't let you run away from me anymore." Neteyam had a big smile on his lips "I don't care if you try to. That's all I needed to hear, that you love me. Now that you've said it, even if you didn't say it directly to me, I'm gonna fight for you even harder, even if you keep trying to push me away, I will keep bothering you." He kept smiling, blissful "You're like an Ikran. I just need to be patient with you. Eventually, I'll tame you and you'll be mine. All mine, hi'ì 'emyu." (small cook) "Bonded to me through tsaheylu. I can be patient and I will be."

You could only look at him, stare at his face and ask yourself why. Why was he willing to put so much work into making you his mate? 

"I'm not gonna run away from you anymore." You finally said "I'm done running. I'm done keeping myself miserable and alone because I'm too afraid to trust you and let you in. While trying to keep myself "safe", I was hurting myself and hurting you. I'm not doing that anymore, Neteyam. I was so stupid… I can't really say what it is, but there's just something about you… I think about you all the time, since the first time I saw you when you appeared for me outside that window. I don't believe someone can fall in love so fast but…" You were about to burst into tears "I'm in love with you."

Neteyam looked at you with the biggest smile on his plump lips, while his heart beat uncommonly fast inside his chest. He was overwhelmed with joy but as he was seeing the tears welling up in your eyes, he felt like he was about to cry too. But he didn't. Having learned throughout his whole life to always act with self control and rationality in front of everyone, - not really by choice, but because he knew that was how the Olo'eyktan to be should act, to keep a good reputation, to let his people know he was strong enough to control his emotions and not let them get in the way of him making good decisions for the Omatikaya - his ability to show some aspects of his feelings was a bit impaired now and that included crying. Even though he almost cried in front of you when you rejected him, he couldn't bring himself to cry of joy, now that you were saying that you wanna be with him too.

"I'm sorry for… what you saw. Me and Derek. I never liked him, Neteyam. He was just-"

"Yawne, no." Neteyam interrupted " It's okay. I don't wanna hear about that human." He looked disgusted only by the thought of Derek "And I don’t want you thinking about him either. You're mine now. Just forget about him. It's me that you like, right?" He gave you a gentle smile now and you nodded your head positively "Then focus on me, yawntutsyìp."

You looked at him, shyly, and smiled

"So… Can I ask for a hug, now?" your heart beat fast inside your chest cavity as you nervously said that

"Oeyä tawtute…" (my human) "You don't even need to ask." He opened his big, strong arms as he spoke "Come here."

༊⁀➷

Taglist: @kitsunefirewail @tumblingdevils @a-blog-name-2003 @xylobee @nerdybouquetofkittens-blog @henhouse-horrors @lala-1516 @xylianasblog @samistars @crazy4books1 @explosiongamora @lik0 @your-girl-mj @darktyrantwinner @sereisstuff @yeosxxx @die4niyahhh @iman-lu @manumanulau @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @hana-yuri @thehoneymushroomhealer @melllinaa @annaibansworld @siriuslysmoking @avatar4eva @ellabellabus07 @badbishsblog @neteyamsmate4life @c-h-i-l @criticallybella

[tenpintsofsundrop]

From Your Lips

Jennifer Jareau x Gender Neutral Reader (Smut Blurb)

Concept: After JJ is attacked by dogs on the Hankle farm, everyone is busy worrying about Reid's missing status, but you take the time to check on JJ and try your best to calm her flustered mind.

Word Count: 3,000

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Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this is set during Season 2, Episode 15 ("Revelations"); warnings for themes/plot points from the canon episode - rabid dogs, mentions of JJ being attacked by dogs, mentions of dogs eating/killing a woman (a random woman who is not named here), animal death - mentions of JJ having to shoot the dogs (killing them) in self defence, gun violence, mentions of Reid being kidnapped (no details of that are discussed in this fic), religious themes (in this fic, religious motifs are used to encourage sexual behaviour - spoken about as though God made us to have sex with each other, not to discourage it as the Christian religion does); symptoms of shock/PTSD - JJ waves a gun in the reader's face because she's scared; general emotional angst, mentions of JJ blaming herself for Reid being kidnapped; mentions of blood (from JJ's injuries); the reader is completely gender neutral - there are no identifying pronouns used for the reader (other than the 'you' I generally use for fics) and the reader's genitals are not described in any specific way; use of Y/N, mentions of a pre-established sexual relationship between JJ and the reader - it could be a friends with benefits situation, it could be secret lovers, it's never quite specified; JJ is more submissive and the reader is more dominant, but there is no outright dom/sub relationship; the reader calls JJ 'Jay', 'sweet girl', 'sweets', and 'good girl'; using sex to distract from one's emotional problems; (technically) semi-public sex because they're in the bathroom where anyone could walk in on them (but they're not caught by anyone); kissing/heated making-out; the reader fingers JJ; neck biting/marking (JJ receiving); hair-pulling (JJ receiving); praise kink; clothed/mostly clothed sex; I believe that's everything.

A/N: This was primarily inspired by the picture of JJ on the right. I saw it and I was like 'damn she fine' but I knew it was from Revelations so I was like 'damn she fine but I know she's havin a real bad time rn' - so I did the thing I do best: smut based off emotional trauma. This is basically the scene where Emily comes to talk to her in the bathroom, but replacing Emily with a reader character and then they fuck. Also the title comes from the phrase 'from your lips to God's ears' because religious imagery. I had so much fun with this lmao. I hope you enjoy it!

...

You couldn’t help but to feel bad for JJ. 

You knew that everyone was concerned about Reid - rightfully so. Worried about where he was, if he was alive or not. But you were the type of person who preferred to focus on the things you could control - the things right in front of you. JJ was someone you had known for long enough that you knew how to comfort her, and you pushed the ‘what-ifs’ about Reid to the back of your mind in favor of focusing on her. 

You knew that she was intensely shaken up by the entire situation. Not only the fact that she had been nearly mauled by a couple of dogs, pieces of her skin torn up and marred. But it was the fact that the team knew for certain that those same dogs had ripped a woman apart only a few days ago. You knew that JJ hated being forced to shoot those dogs. She was someone with a tender heart. You knew that all of this was affecting her. 

On top of all that, she was likely blaming herself for Reid being put in danger, even though there was nothing she could have done to save him. 

While everyone was gathered in the main room, looking through Hankle’s things for any hint as to where he had taken Reid, you moved toward the back of the house, knowing that JJ had gone to the bathroom to ‘freshen up’. You knew her well enough to easily pick up that it was code for her needing a moment to escape from everyone else in some attempt to calm down. 

The door to the bathroom was open just a crack, so you took a peek, not wanting to startle her by knocking. 

You could see her hunched over the sink, stress knit through her muscles as she gripped the sides of the porcelain. You felt a twinge of guilt flow through you as the thought occurred to you - even in such a state of duress, she was so beautiful. Painted in agony or pleasure, she was gorgeous.

She looked almost angelic like this, and you hated to believe that torture looked good on someone like her. (Perhaps it was the fact that you had seen her ‘tortured’ before - sweaty and begging, half on the brink of madness as she pleaded to get your tongue between her thighs once again.) 

You found your eyes admiring the sliver of skin that peeked out between her white button up and the low waist of her simple black dress pants. You found yourself wanting to actually smack yourself as a form of scolding when you couldn’t help but to admire the gentle dip of her waist and the curve of her ass. 

You felt sinful for thinking such carnal thoughts, even when she was so wrought with stress, clearly so wrecked from the night’s events. 

Perhaps it was the fact that you had come so close to losing her, and now that urge to possess her bubbled closer to the surface than ever. But you pushed it down as you gently nudged open the bathroom door. 

When the creak of the hinges echoed through the room, you certainly did not expect to be greeted with a gun in your face. 

JJ had whipped around much faster than you expected, and pointed her Bureau issued glock right at you. Clearly, she expected you to be a threat. The look in her eyes was positively wild - like a frightened animal being cornered by a fierce predator. Which of course, was something that had happened to her only a few hours before. 

“JJ.” You called out her name, keeping your voice firm, trying to ground her in this reality. 

Her eyes continued darting around, glancing into the hallway behind you as though she was expecting another rabid dog to suddenly appear there. 

“JJ, it’s just me.” You told her, reaching up and gently easing the gun down. 

She was still incredibly tense, so you reached up with your other hand and massaged along the inner part of her wrist with two fingers, getting her muscles to relax enough that she let go of the gun, dropping it into your hand. You made sure the safety was turned on before you placed the gun on the closed toilet lid. Then you turned and closed the bathroom door behind you, sealing the two of you into a quiet bubble to hopefully give her time to calm down. 

JJ let out a harsh breath - a sound that was mostly a sob strangled inside of her chest. She ran her hands through her already wild hair, tears gathering in her eyes once again. She turned to face the wall and you instinctively reached out, running your hands gently across her shoulders. 

One of your hands stayed as a comforting grip on her upper arm and the other rubbed an open palm up and down her back. You hoped you could soothe her in some way. You truly hated how she quivered under your touch, how you could feel those sobs trapped inside of her lungs; the echoes of cries she refused to release because she felt that she needed to put up a strong front. 

“It’s so stupid.” JJ complained. 

Her voice was wet with the unreleased tears as she held her head in her hands, still facing away from you. Her long blonde hair easily created a curtain around her face so that couldn’t properly see her. 

“I grew up with dogs! I had dogs! I love dogs, I would never-” 

“It’s not your fault, Jay.” You pressed, using your affectionate nickname for her. “When people train animals to attack like that, there’s nothing you can do.” You leaned in, gently resting your cheek on her shoulder, assuring her that you were there before you whispered the next words. “You had to shoot them.” 

JJ let out a harsh whimper, clearly struggling even more now with holding back her sobs. You wanted to tell her that it would be okay to cry, but you knew that it would be useless. She was raised as the strong brick wall of a daughter in her family, and she was not used to showing weakness - especially not used to crying. 

“I should have stayed with Spencer.” She announced quietly. “I shouldn’t have let him go off without backup. I should have-” 

“Jay, that’s not your fault either.” You told her firmly, cutting off whatever self blaming rant she was about to go on. 

She muddled in a bitter silence, her arms shaking lightly as she rocked her head back and forth - shaking her head in the negative in response to what you had said. 

She had to believe it was her fault. If Spencer didn’t come back from this, her self blame would only be worse. 

“JJ, look at me.” You demanded gently. She didn’t move, and you reached over and put a hand on her wrist, attempting to pull her hands away from her face. “JJ, please look at me.” 

When your voice warbled out the plea, she finally wavered to your touch, and let you turn her around to face you. You caught a glimpse of the bright red stains soaked into the sleeve of her shirt, splattered up across her front, and you tried to ignore the sickly curl in your gut because of it. 

You had the urge to lift her bandaged forearm up and lay a few kisses on it, like you would have kissed a child’s scraped knee - more so for the emotional comfort than any possible health benefits. But you knew that would have been more for you than for her. 

So instead, you reached out, brushing past that tangled curtain of blonde to gently cup her face with both your hands. You handled her with an intensely delicate touch as you tilted her gaze up from the ground. 

A few tears had managed to escape, and you brushed them away with your thumbs. JJ sniffled quietly, sounding quite small and defeated as she did so. For the first time that night, she felt a slight calm wash over her as the comfort of your presence truly settled in. 

She was eternally grateful to have you there with her. She reached up and gripped onto your wrists, keeping you anchored there. She skimmed her thumbs along the top of your hands, enjoying the smooth feeling of your skin as you stared at her broken face - a tearful angel that made your heart ache for her. 

You were called by the higher purpose to worship that angel - to turn her pain into pleasure.

Before you could stop yourself, you found yourself drifting toward her, leaning in and planting your lips on hers. It certainly wasn’t the first time you had kissed JJ, but it most definitely wasn’t the most opportune. 

She easily returned the kiss, pressing her mouth into yours with a soft neediness. It was when she let out a small moan, the sound vibrating against your lips that you felt that sting of guilty panging at you once again. The fact that lustful heat and your grief for her were colliding so heavily inside of you made you feel like just as much of a monster as the man who had taken Reid and sicked dogs on her. 

You pulled away from the kiss sharply, putting only an inch of distance between the two of you, not letting go of her cheeks. She didn’t let go of the hold she had on your wrists either - you wanted to keep her assured of your presence because she did need the comfort during this hard time. 

“I’m sorry-” You gasped out an apology for kissing her so inappropriately, but JJ, ever the woman to know exactly what she wanted, didn’t let you finish. 

“Don’t apologize.” She ordered sharply. “I need you.” 

She kept her eyes closed, her brows tight with anguish as you gently laid your forehead against hers. 

You couldn’t help but to question it. 

“Now, Jay?” You asked quietly. “Right now?” 

“I need to forget.” She whispered, her words so timid that her breath barely ghosted your lips, even with you so close to her. 

Your heart ached at her tone, and when you didn’t reply or didn’t move to kiss her again, she continued. 

“Every time I close my eyes, I just see… I just see those eyes glowing in the dark. I just hear growling.” She admitted, a few more tears escaping that you rushed to thumb away. “I need to forget it. Please, help me forget.” 

“Anything for you, sweets.” You whispered, using another affectionate nickname for her. 

You leaned in for another kiss, firmer this time. 

You let your instincts take over then - all the lust you had been pushing down rushing to the surface and servicing you well. If she needed to forget, then you would certainly make her. You would make her feel so good that all she would be able to focus on would be the hot blood thrumming through her ears. The medicine that God intended. 

You pushed her up against the edge of the sink, keeping one hand on the side of her face and moving the other to her hip. You skimmed your fingers along that tempting strip of skin right above the waistband of her low-rise pants, causing her to shiver at the teasing touch touch. 

In a moment, your forceful dominance, the way you handled her easily had her moaning into your mouth again, much louder this time. You moved the hand on her cheek around to comb your fingers through her hair. You dug your knuckles in, setting a powerful grip at the base of her skull that held her exactly where you wanted her. It was a tender pain that had her gasping for you as you shoved your tongue past her lips, now on a very determined mission to fuck every last dreadful thought out of her head. 

Your fingertips continued to dance along the waistband of her pants, gently teasing her skin in a great contrast to the forceful movement of your lips. Every single movement was cleverly calculated to make her mind numb. Right down to the way you tugged at her hair and yanked on her bottom lip with your teeth as you pulled away from the kiss, leaving her panting wildly. 

Her eyes were closed much more gently this time, her eyelids fluttering lightly, and you hoped that you had already reduced those nightmarish visions to dust as she relaxed into your touch, buttery under your fingers as always. 

“Thank you,” JJ breathed out, her voice sweet as ever as you bit a path down her neck. You wanted to leave noticeable marks that would stand out among the scratches and bumps she had acquired that night. 

You truly didn’t care if anyone else on the team spotted one of those marks and knew what it was. You were paying tribute to her, leaving your own kind of thank you on her neck as you sucked the soft skin between your teeth. Your fingers finally found the button of her pants and easily popped it open blind, pulling the zipper down in a moment. Without a second of hesitation, you shoved your fingers past the barrier of her simple cotton underwear. 

With one last sharp bite, you moved your head back up from the crevice of her neck then, pressing your forehead against hers once again. You kept that tight grip on the back of her hair, a small hinge of pain that grounded her, that assured her you were there. 

Your fingers easily found her clit, and you made the bold choice to begin rubbing her without wetting your fingers first. You knew that it would be a pleasurable sting that would certainly push any other thoughts from her mind. 

“Oh, fuck, Y/N-” 

JJ gasped, arching her hips away from the edge of the sink to meet your touch, her lips falling open beautifully and her eyes still so gently fallen shut. She looked so fucking angelic like this. 

More tears kissed her lashes as you pressed harder on her clit, moving your fingers in hard, slow circles. You could assure yourself that these were tears from pleasure, not from anguish or pain. You had rewritten the stony hurt inside her muscles, rethreading the cords tight with the need for an orgasm where they were previously pulled tight with stress. 

“Please!” She begged so beautifully when she wanted to. 

It felt like its own unique reward to know that you were one of the only people that all powerful Jennifer Jareau ever begged to. 

You felt her becoming wetter around your fingers, flooding her underwear in response to your simple touches, and there was only one thing you wanted before you would make her cum. 

“Look at me.” You told her, the words quiet on your lips but so utterly full of confident power. 

JJ whimpered in response, not yet opening her eyes, and you stopped the movement of your hand altogether. She let out a very displeased sound and you began slowly pulling back, threatening to leave her hanging (which was a very empty threat in this context - not that she had to know that). It was something that immediately caused her eyes to shoot open as she reached out and grabbed your wrist, holding you in place. She canted her hips up, desperately trying to get your touch back where she needed you most. 

“Please,” She pleaded again, all hot breath and desperation - all for you. 

Staring into those blue eyes, lit with a desperate blaze of lust as she panted out humid breaths across your chin, you were only reminded of the fact that everything you did was for her. Everything in your life was a worship in her name, no act too small to dedicate to such a perfect Goddess. 

“Good girl.” 

You praised her, knowing it was exactly what she needed as you angled your fingers back between her wet folds. You gathered up that wetness, slicking up your fingers before you placed your determined touch right on her throbbing clit. This time, rather than being slow and calculated, you were quick and determined. You made speedy movements that you knew would draw her to the quick finish that would perfectly empty her mind. 

“Always so good for me, Jay.” 

“Thank you, oh! Oh, fuck!” 

She started singing your praises in her own way as your touches sped up, the sound of her wetness just barely muffled by the fabric of her pants and underwear, becoming delightfully sloppy under your fingers. With the way she was unconsciously canting her hips toward you, humping against your hand, you knew she was so close. 

You leaned in, and while looking her in the eyes the whole time, you bit down on her bottom lip and roughly pulled it out, letting the skin snap back in a rough possession of her as she panted and moaned the whole time. 

“Cum for me.” You demanded in a rough growl, finding yourself comparable to one of those rabid dogs. Though you were consuming her in a way that renewed her life, rather than trying to end it. “Cum for me, sweet girl.” 

“Fuck!” JJ cried out, an epic prayer as she spiraled into the all consuming pleasure of her orgasm. 

Though you wanted nothing more than to listen to those beautiful sounds, you had to silence her most pitiful orgasmic cries by clasping your lips over hers. You didn’t want the others hearing - you wanted to keep those sounds all to yourself. You muffled her noises with a tight suction of your mouth as you continued to work her right through the orgasm, keeping a tight grip on her hair the whole time to show her exactly who she belonged to. 

With the crucifix mounted on the bathroom wall, the knowledge of Hankle’s God staring right at you as you did all this - you couldn’t find an ounce of shame inside you. Not now. You could find no better way to honor God than to lovingly dedicate your life to the embodiment of his best work.

[artist-emerald]

Double Surprise: a Broppy One Shot

It was another day for the Trolls: singing, dancing, hugging, overcoming issues and settling disputes. Poppy was doing her best as Queen, making sure her Pop Troll subjects were happy, and that the other tribes in Trollstopia had what they needed. Making time for her friends, her family, but most importantly, her boyfriend.

Branch, the village ex-recluse, was also busy. While everyone was having fun, he was making sure they were safe doing so. Hard hats, safety cushions, designated quite time areas for when a Troll just needs to take a break. He has come a long way from hiding himself in his bunker, to fully being a part of the Trolls community. Having his brothers back in his life was one thing, but to have so many other friends was something he couldn't have seen for himself in the past. All of that was thanks to his girlfriend, Poppy.

They didn't always have busy days like this, but with so much to do and so many Trolls, it wasn't surprising. It was late in the afternoon. Poppy had just officiating a little dance contest between the Funk Trolls and the Techno Trolls, to which a winner wasn't important because they all had fun. Poppy was heading out to meet with Branch a little outside the village for a small picnic dinner they had planned. She was making her way to the meeting spot when she felt a sudden dip in energy. Her legs became heavy, muscles sore, a slight migraine, and the ever so slightest cramp in her stomach.

She stumbled a bit, but some nearby Trolls were able to catch her and help her back on her feet. They asked if she was ok and suggested she see the doctor. Poppy assured them she was fine, but to put them at ease, promised to see Dr. Moonbloom.

She stepped into Dr. Moonbloom's waiting room, where to her surprise she saw Branch sitting there as well. "Branch?! What are you doing here? Are you okay?" Poppy quickly became worried for him. Branch got up and tried to ease her worry, "I'm fine, just got a little weak earlier so I thought I'd stop in before meeting you for our picnic."

"Really? That's weird, the same thing happened to me!" Poppy's statement then made Branch start to worry, "The same thing? Are you ok?" Poppy simply hugged him and gave him a kiss on the cheek to calm him and reassure him that she's ok.

Dr. Moonbloom stepped out, "I overheard everything. If you both experienced the same symptoms, I might as well take you both in right now." The couple followed the doctor into the examination room. Dr. Moonbloom took their temperatures, pressures, the usual stuff for walk-ins. They each described their symptoms to the doctor, along with everything they had done during the day that led to that moment. "Well it seems to me like you two went and over exerted yourselves a bit. It does sound like you two had a busy day, and didn't keep up with your hydration and food intake."

She suggested the couple take it easy for the rest of the day, and sent them on their way. Hand in hand, they went to their meeting spot for their picnic. They watched as the sun set and the stars fill up the sky. All while enjoying each other's company. They were cuddled up to each other, their hair entwined in a twist of colors, their fingers locked together.

"Branch look! A shooting star!" Poppy excitedly pointed to the sky as a line of stardust shot across the sky. "Well, what did you wish for?" Branch asked playfully. "I wished for someone else's wish to come true, because right now there isn't a single thing that I need." Poppy said as she closed in for a kiss with her beloved.

It was getting late, and the two needed to turn in so they could get the rest that their doctor prescribed. "So...you're place or mine?" Poppy asked Branch while giving him a sly look. Branch's ears perked up and his cheeks changed color as he blushed. "Your choice, my queen." Branch replied in a playful banter. The two giggled as they made their way to Poppy's pod, where they promptly passed out on her bed in a tight embrace.

They woke up groggy and with a crushing migraine. They were confused as to why they were feeling so sick since they took it easy like the doctor told them. "I think I might have something back at the bunker to help with this, I'll be back soon." Branch said as he kissed Poppy on the forehead and slowly made his way out. "Noooooo, don't leave meeeeee!" Poppy groaned as she reached for her boyfriend. "I'll be baaaaack." Branch replied as he left.

Minutes passed, and Poppy started to feel worse. Her body getting hotter, the migraine growing. She made her way to the mirror to look at herself. She didn't look sick, but as she stared at herself she felt the pain simply, disappear. Her eyes widened, she cupped her hands over her mouth to withhold her gasp. She looked up in her reflection, slowly and gently parting her hair to reveal the source of her dilemma. Sitting within her hair was a small egg, colored with a swirl of pink and blue.

"Oh my gosh...oh my gosh!" Poppy's energy came back to her ten fold. She wrapped her hair around her egg to protect it from her outburst as she jumped and cheered. "I'm a mother! Oh my gosh this is so sudden, so overwhelming, so...Branch! I-I gotta go tell him!"

Elsewhere, Branch was panicking. In his hair there lied a small egg colored in a swirl of blue and pink. An egg he wasn't expecting, an egg he wasn't prepared for, and certainly an egg he hadn't talked about with Poppy. "Poppy! Oh man, how is she going to react to this? Well, most likely positive, but it's not something we ever talked about. I mean she's great with kids, but me? Am I ready for this?"

Branch pulled himself up, brushed himself off, and took a deep breath. "Either way, I can't hide this from her. She'd be more upset with me if I tried that." Branch left his bunker to find Poppy.

They found each other half way between their homes. "Branch! Branch! Oh my gosh the craziest thing, I feel so much better now!" Poppy said, trying her best to contain her excitement. "Oh hey, that's great! I'm feeling a bit better too!" Branch said, trying not to hide his nervousness. "So, I actually have a bit of a surprise for you." Poppy said as she took Branch by the hands. "Oh really? Well, funny thing, I also have a surprise for you. It's a bit last minute, but it's important!" Branch replied. Trolls were starting to come outside as the morning began, overhearing their conversation, they watched and listened in secret.

"Oh! Well, share both at the same time? Like how we did at the gift swap?" Poppy suggested. Branch's face lit up with a small smile as he nodded in agreement. They counted down to 3 in unison, and as they did they revealed the egg that they each had laid. Every Troll watching cheered in both shock and excitement, startling the couple to made a big hair dome to hide in. Branch was unarguably shocked by this development as he looked at the egg Poppy held. Poppy's eyes lit up with joy, and then her emotions began to get the better of her as she fell to her knees in tears.

Branch joined her on the ground as they took both the eggs in their arms. He was happy, not just because Poppy was happy, but because he was now happy that not only did they bring one new Troll to the world, but two. "It's a double baby! Branch I'm so happy right now! I'm gonna be a mess for a while." Poppy nuzzled Branch's chest as she gave tiny kisses to their eggs. "Me too, heart. Me too."

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Second Chance - Chapter 2

Masterlist 

Warning: mention of chemotherapy and symptoms, mention of death 

Word count: 3.3k

Tony held open the door for you to head back into the tower. Exhaustion was the best way to describe how you were feeling. Every part of your body was sore. To your surprise, a small body ran into your legs. You looked down at a young girl with shoulder-length brown hair and eyes identical to yours and Tony’s. “Hi,” you smiled. She blinked up at you. You could see the gears in her brain trying to figure out who you were. “You must be Princess Morgan I’ve heard so much about.” It was a little white lie. The CEO and billionaire kept their daughter out of the limelight as best as possible. But they did announce her birth. She took a step back, glancing behind you to look at her mom and dad. 

“Who are you?” She asked. You smiled. Now that was a complicated question as it wasn’t a simple answer. How do you tell a child that you were her sister? 

“I’m a friend of your dad's,” it wasn’t a total lie but not the full truth. You didn’t like lying to kids just because they were younger wasn’t a good enough reason to lie to them. “We haven’t seen each other in a long time.”

“Why is that?” One of the reasons you loved kids so much was their thousand and one questions. You heard hurried footsteps walking behind the younger girl. It was the Black Widow. 

“Sorry, Pepper,” she said. “This little nugget is very sneaky.” She attacked Morgan’s sides which made the girl dissolve into a fit of giggles. 

“Don’t worry about it Nat,” the CEO said. “We are done talking.” Morgan gasped suddenly, bringing the attention back to her. 

“If you're friends with my daddy, does that make us friends?” She asked. Ah. The minds of children were so simple, you envied them. 

“Do you want to be friends?” You questioned. She nodded, jumping on the balls of her feet. 

“New friend, new friend. Let’s go play,” she grabbed your hand. 

“Morgan,” Pepper’s voice was stern with a hint of amusement at her daughter but Morgan stopped in her tracks. “You have to ask before you drag someone off.” She sighed, dropping her hand. 

“Can you play with me?” She asked. Oh, it was so hard for you to say no to little kids. You saw Pepper speak with eyes, ‘You don’t have to.’ But you nodded. 

“Lead the way, Princess Morgan,” she giggled, grabbing your hand again and dragging you off. 

*

Pepper watched with a fond smile on her face as the duo ran off. She was surprised by how well you handled everything. You had to be no more than 25 but you walked around with such grace and a positive outlook on the world. She looked at her husband, who has been oddly quiet since they learned of your condition. “Are you okay?” She asked, rubbing his arm. Her gentle touch seemed to snap him out of his trance. 

“FRIDAY, please call all available Avengers to the conference room,” he ordered the AI. “Tell them it’s urgent.” He took off towards the conference room without another word. Natasha raised her eyebrow, questioning his odd behavior but Pepper shook her head. It was better to explain it once. She and Natasha walked to the conference room in comfortable silence. There weren’t many Avengers in the tower. Kate and America were on a mission, Yelena was in St. Petersburg, Bruce took a short trip to New Asgard, and Rhodey was in DC with Maria and Nick. Once the fight with Thanos was over, the Avengers went back home and tried to help those who came back. Her mind seemed to wander back to you. Were you part of the population that Thanos’ snapped away?

She remembered reading about Jessica’s passing. Their paths crossed once at a conference in DC and Pepper would have never guessed she had a daughter. A daughter who shared half the DNA with her own. It was a small world. 

When Pepper entered the conference room Tony was already standing up front. She chose to stand next to him, offering any support she could give him. “I appreciate all of you coming on such short notice.”

“What’s going on Stark?” Steve questioned. 

“It has to be serious. I’ve never seen him like this.” Sam mumbled. 

“That’s because it is serious,” he snapped. The Avengers looked at each other, having a silent conversation with one another. They’ve done enough missions together to speak without saying anything. Tony sighed. “Sorry,” he apologized. “As many of you know, Y/n claims to be my daughter. Her mother and I were together before Pepper and I.”

“Where is her mother?” Bucky asked. 

“Dead,” Pepper answered. “She died in a car accident a few years ago.” 

“She has cancer,” Tony told the team. Pepper could hear the slight shake in his voice showing how much this was affecting him. It was a lot. A stranger showed up, claiming to be his daughter, and telling them she needs help. “Chemotherapy isn’t working anymore. She needs a bone marrow transplant if not she has 6 months to live.” 

“Jesus,” Sam mumbled. 

“I’m sorry, Tony,” Natasha said. “But I’m a little confused about why you called a meeting to tell us this.” Pepper was with the Black Widow on this. It made sense to tell the team all at once but she saw Tony chew on the inside of his cheek. 

“My guess is Mr. Stark is going to ask if you all can see if you are a match for Miss. Easton. Only 2% of the entire population are registered bone marrow donors,” Vision said, leaning back in his chair. “It’s a 1% chance for a parent to match their child, 50% for siblings, and 29%-79% for everyone else.” Tony nodded, resting his hand on his chin. 

“I’m asking a lot,” he said. “Especially to help a total stranger but I’m all she has left.” 

“You're wrong, Tony,” Wanda smiled. “She has us.” Pepper looked at the Sokovian. 

“I’m guessing you knew,” the CEO said. A slight blush rose on her cheeks as she nodded. 

“As soon as she introduced herself. For someone so young, she’s not scared.” 

 *

You glanced over Morgan’s shoulder as you heard footsteps approaching. It was Pepper. “Come on, come on,” she tugged on your arm. “You have to continue the story!” All her toys were laid out in a makeshift battlefield, two sides facing each other. You smiled at the CEO before returning your attention to the young girl. 

“So there they stood, the king's men facing the Swarm’s army. The king’s army were strong men who were called forth to protect their homes. But,” you picked up a stuffed animal. It was a dragon, a gift from Natasha and Bucky that Morgan informed you of. “The Swarm didn’t just have men but a dragon that breathed fire,” you noticed Pepper being more interested in the story. You set the plushie down. “The king’s hand steps forward, with the spellbound sword ready to fight the dragon. But a voice in the crowd told him to stop,” Morgan was bouncing where she sat. “The king’s daughter, Princess Phoebe stood forward and took the sword. She faced the army,” You choose one of her Barbie's as the princess, maneuvering her arm to mimic she was holding a sword over her head. “And she said, ‘I will kill the dragon and lead this army to victory. Who will join me?’ But no one stepped forward.” Morgan gasped. “The princess wasn’t worried. She knew she would have to earn the men’s trust. So, she faced the dragon,” You grabbed the plushie. “Alone.” 

“What happened? Did she win?” She asked. You sighed. 

“It was a long and hard fight,” you paused for dramatic effect. “She killed the dragon, led her father’s army to victory, and became the first Queen to sit on the throne of Krucia.” Morgan jumped up to her feet and cheered at your story's ending. She saw Pepper standing in the doorway. 

“Mommy, did you hear?” She ran over to her, throwing her body at her legs. “The princess won! She won!” You smiled at the interaction, it made you miss your mom. 

“I did,” the CEO smiled. “What do you say to Y/n?” She let go of her mother’s legs and ran back over to you. You were surprised when she hugged you tight. 

“Thank you for playing with me,” you hugged her back. “Can you tell me another story?” 

“Maybe tomorrow. I have to come up with another one. Now let’s clean up your toys,” the pout that formed on her face made you laugh. “If Princess Phoebe can beat a dragon you can clean up your toys,” you said, tapping her nose. She sighed but nodded. It didn’t take long for you both to put her toys away and the playroom was soon spotless. 

“Morgan,” Pepper said, once the last toy was put away. “Your father wants to see you in his lab.” 

“Am I in trouble?” She asked. You stifled your laughter at Pepper’s reaction, not expecting her daughter’s question. 

“Did you do something to get in trouble?” Pepper countered. Morgan shrugged, skipping past her mother. You giggled, slowly standing, and ignored the ache in your body. “Not many people get her to clean up her toys. I may have to steal that story.” 

“Go for it,” you said, placing your bag on your shoulder. “I have a ton of them.” You smiled. “I draw comic books,” you answered Pepper’s unasked question. “I learned that I can hold a child’s attention longer with pictures instead of words. I bet I’ve made up stories about all of you.” She laughed. 

“You’ll have to show us them. I’ll show you to your room.” You followed the CEO to the elevator. She told you that she was taking you to the floor below her and Tony’s. You were grateful they were giving you a place to stay, especially with how tired you were. She must have seen it in your eyes as she rubbed your back and opened the door for you. 

You were shocked, yet not surprised to see a small apartment. The door opened to a personal kitchen and a living space. Pepper walked into the living room which consisted of a dining room table, couch, and TV, and opened up the blinds to show the view of the city. “Tony knows how to spend his money for the best views,” you mumbled, walking over to the window. 

“You aren’t wrong,” Pepper said, glancing over to you. “He rented out the top of the Empire State Building for date night.” You smiled. 

“Romantic.” It was. If you had a partner and the money to spoil them like that you would do the same thing. 

“Your room is over here,” she said, leading you down a hallway, past a small closet, and into a bedroom. It was simple. A queen-sized bed was pushed against the wall with a private bathroom and closet. “We’ll make a trip to your apartment to get your things and if you need anything ask FRIDAY. She’ll order it for you.” You nodded, sitting on the bed. 

“Thank you,” you said. “I know I came here and turned everyone’s life upside down so I appreciate it.” 

“Your family,” she said simply. “Besides with this group it’s the most normal thing,” you laughed which quickly turned into a yawn. “Get some sleep and come find me if you need anything.” 

“Thank you, Pepper.” She smiled and left your room. When you heard the door close, you let out a slow breath. You felt a weight lifted off your shoulders on how well today went. But you knew you had to be realistic. Even though they agreed to help doesn’t mean they will be matched. It was a small percentage that Tony would be a match. There was a Plan B. It took a very long time for your doctor to convince you to reach out to the billionaire. Doctor Lucas Carpenter. He was a family friend and he had the honor to watch you grow up, something he liked to remind you every single day. So Plan B was to increase your chemo dosage and the frequency of the treatment. 

You rubbed your forehead and emptied your bag onto the bed. You plugged in your phone charger and attached your phone. The pill counter you used was put on the bathroom counter and the rest of your belongings were thrown on the floor to be dealt with later. You climbed underneath the covers, taking off your beanie and throwing it on top of your bag. It wasn’t long before the exhaustion of the day caught up with you and you fell asleep.    

*

“Daddy!” Morgan ran into her father’s lap. Tony had just enough time to set the swabs down before catching his youngest. “Mommy said you wanted to see me.”

“And what has Mommy said about running in my lab?” He asked. She smiled. 

“But she isn’t here now.” Tony sighed, shaking his head with a soft smile on his face. The billionaire sat Morgan down on his workbench. 

“I need you to use your best listening skills,” he tickled right underneath her ears. Her laughter echoed in the quiet lab. It was music to Tony’s ear and a wonderful reminder of the life he had. But it made him wonder what he missed with you. “Y/n needs our help,” he continued once her laughter calmed down. 

“Help?” She repeated back to him. “Is she okay? I was just playing with her.” 

“She’s sick,” Tony simply said. He wasn’t sure how to explain a topic like cancer to his youngest. He and Pepper tried to shield the darker parts of the world from Morgan and they did their best. But she was smart and knew that sometimes her daddy, aunts, and uncles had to go away to keep the world safe. “And we could help her. Do you want to try?” She nodded. He grabbed two cotton swabs, he purposely didn’t do it with the others so he could show Morgan. “I’m going to do a swab of your mouth like his,” he made sure to get the inside of both of his cheeks. Once he was done, he put it in a bag. “See simple. Are you ready?” He wasn’t going to force her to do it if he didn’t want to. She stared at the cotton swap. 

“Will it hurt?” She whispered. Tony shook his head. 

“It’ll just tickle,” he said. He wasn’t going to go into detail about the procedure if they were a match. They couldn’t get ahead of themselves. Morgan opened her mouth and Tony quickly swapped both of her cheeks. “There,” he sealed her sample and labeled it. “All done. Thank you, sweetheart. You're my hero.” Morgan shook her head, hugging her father. 

“I’m not a superhero, Daddy, you are.” At the moment, Tony didn’t feel like one. He was angry that Jessica kept you from him. Tony kissed the top of her head. 

“I love you 3000,” he whispered. 

“Love you too Daddy.” 

*

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” you heard a calming voice pull you out of your dream state. “Come on. We can’t sleep anymore.” You were awake but you did not want to be. Groaning, you buried your head deeper into the pillow. 

“Don’t wanna,” you mumbled. Someone giggled. You opened your eyes, peeking to the side, and saw that it was Wanda. “What time is it?” You asked, flopping onto your back. 

“7 o’clock,” your eyes widened. You got to the tower around 1300 and fell asleep around 1430, you did not mean to sleep for that long. “You’ve had a busy day and we wanted you to rest. But dinner is ready and you need to eat.” That was true. You had a small breakfast due to your nerves and the crackers she got you for lunch. 

“Thank you,” you said, sitting up. “Give me a second and we can head down.” You walked into the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face. 

“We are having lasagna,” she told you. You opened your pill container and pulled out an anti-nausea pill, just in case. “We weren’t sure what you liked.” 

“That’s fine,” you stepped out of the bathroom and picked up the beanie on the ground, whipping it off before placing it on your head. 

“I want you to know you don’t have to wear a beanie in front of us,” you shrugged. 

“It’s second nature to wear it,” you told her as you walked out of your room and to the front door. “Most people stare at me and I get uncomfortable. So who lives on this floor?” You asked her as you waited for the elevator. Wanda explained each floor had 4 apartments and a common space to share. Peter, Kate, and America were on your floor.

“But America is usually in Kate’s room. They’ve been dating for a few months.” Cute. You were excited to meet them. When the metal doors opened, the smells hit you immediately. You scrunch your nose, hiding your disgust as you scratch your nose. It was the worst part of chemo. Not the hair loss or the fatigue, your taste buds and sense of smell changed. Going to grocery stores was a nightmare. It was a common side effect of chemotherapy and it would go away once the treatment was over. But now it was killing you especially since you loved cooking. Cooking was a way to communicate when you didn’t know the language or the way to learn about a different culture. It was a beautiful art form and it was impossible to cook when your senses were out of whack. It changed from day to day. Some foods made you nauseous but a week later it was your comfort food. It was annoying. 

Natasha went to hand you a plate but you held up your hand, showing her the pill in your hand. She nodded, placing the plate on the counter. You quickly filled up a glass of water and took the pill. It was the tomato sauce and garlic that were causing your stomach to twist and turn. “Are you okay?” Tony asked. You nodded, filling up the glass. 

“Worst part of chemo,” you smiled. “My sense of smell and taste gets all weird.” You put some salad on your plate and opted out of the garlic bread, which hurt because you loved garlic bread. Tony smiled sadly. 

“We’ll figure it out, kid,” he said, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. It felt a little weird, receiving comfort from a man that was missing your entire life. You placed your hand on top of yours. 

“Yeah, we will.” Morgan wanted to sit next to you. So you sat next to her and Tony and Pepper on the other side of Morgan. Natasha sat in front of you with Bucky next to her. You kept out of the conversation, trying to focus on keeping the food you were eating down. 

“So,” Natasha said, directing the table to you. “Tell us about yourself.” You whipped your mouth with a napkin. 

“Like what my favorite color is?” You questioned with a teasing smile. Natasha rolled her eyes, mumbling under her breath, ‘Great now there are two of them.’ You laughed. “I was homeschooled until I reached college. I double majored in marine biology and mechanical engineering then I got my doctorate in marine biology. I lived on a sailboat for a little bit.” 

“By yourself?” Steve questioned. You nodded, taking the last bite of your salad. You wondered if they noticed your untouched lasagna. 

“Aren’t you a little young to be living on a sailboat and getting your doctorate?” You shrugged. Probably.

“I graduated college when I was 15,” you simply said, cheeks burning at their impressed looks. You didn’t like to make a big deal of your accomplishments because you knew you were lucky to have the resources to accomplish everything. But you didn’t miss the proud smile on Tony’s face. And you smiled back. 

[circular-bircular]

“You can have DID without trauma!”

Vent art. Mod “Armageddon.” Tw for COCSA and general abuse.

You are a system. You have DID. You do not know this.

You go through 15 years, not knowing this — just existing in a haze, having such a bright childhood, one you grasp for later in the dark moments, trying desperately to hold onto it.

At 15, you realize, wait. I think something’s wrong. You realize you don’t feel like “yourself” — and even more alarming, you don’t know who “you” even are. You hear voices, suddenly, in your head. You find notes you clearly wrote, but it’s someone else’s handwriting, someone else’s words to “you.”

You just need to figure out who “you” is.

You go to your sexual abuser abusive romantic partner best friend because your abusive neglectful overbearing parents would never understand, or might be too worried about you. You ask them, “What’s wrong with me? I’m scared. I’m confused. I feel like I’m going to die.”

They smile. They want you, they need you to stay, and to stay you can’t be scared. “Don’t worry — that’s normal.”

You sigh in relief. Thank goodness. You’re fine. You’re okay. Nothing is wrong. The voices are just normal things everyone else experiences. The fun imaginative things in my head are normal. The fighting, screaming, sobbing, fear, need to run, need to love, need to help everyone while fully believing you’re about to get hit, or touched, or watched, always watched—

Don’t worry. That’s normal.

You are a system. You have DID. You do not know this.

You are 19. You’re not sure when that happened — isn’t time silly that way? You are normal. You were a bit “quirky” and “cringy” in high school, roleplaying a lot. You do not remember the voices in your head. You do not remember their names. You do not remember two entire years of high school, and you do not remember that you have forgotten.

You see a student presentation in class about a story, and how the main character could be read as having dissociative identity disorder. “The symptoms come from childhood trauma,” the student says, “but people don’t always remember their trauma.”

She describes the symptoms. You feel… weird. Why does that sound so familiar? So normal? You laugh a little and look around, expecting everyone else to be rolling their eyes at such an obvious observation. How ridiculous of psychologists to diagnose a very normal thing, right? But everyone else is nodding along, very interested, and the professor praises the student for her psychological lens, and “valuable research gathering on a rare disorder.”

You don’t remember going to your dorm, or the test you took that day online. The next thing you remember is not being “you” anymore, because “you” is locked in a room in your mind, and now you’re someone else, sobbing at the website you’ve pulled up. It’s about dissociative identity disorder.

You’re not you. You’re someone else.

You go to your best friend. You tell them everything at 4am, sobbing because you don’t know what to do anymore, and you’re scared, because you don’t know who you are.

“You’re not crazy. This isn’t normal, but you aren’t crazy. I believe you.”

You breathe for the first time in years months weeks days.

You are 19. You have DID. You think.

There’s only one problem; you don’t have trauma. You do. It’s there. They hurt you so much, you idiot, why can’t you hear the voices screaming that at you? So what on earth are you experiencing?

You try to research it. All you have is a DSM-III and resources on multiple personality disorder. And, of course, tumblr — your home away from home.

You find a war happening. People with trauma versus people who say they have none. They all seem to hear voices, and many are angry and struggling and confused, just like you. You must be like these “plurals” you’ve seen. The ones without trauma but with DID. That’s not what that was, and you know that now, but it’s was so hard to tell back then.

You join them. “I have DID,” you say, “but I don’t have trauma.”

“That’s okay!” They tell you. “You can have DID without trauma.”

What a relief. You’re normal. You’re fine. You’re not like those anti-endos, you’re told. “They medicalize their systems,” you’re told, “and their therapists are abusing them.” You feel so bad for those poor systems. They’re not like you; you’re fine. You’re normal. Unlike them.

You try to avoid the traumatized ones, but you see so many of them getting angry. They keep yelling about these people who don’t have trauma, who are “appropriating a disorder” — that same disorder you clearly have, but you don’t have trauma.

You crash your car while dissociating so hard that you hallucinate your parts headmates around you. And you are happy, because at least you have a family to take care of you. Isn't it so nice to see your parts headmates in real life?

You're normal. It's okay. You don't have trauma. You don't need trauma to be a system, and you love being a system. No you DON'T, the parts scream, you're dreaming! Wake up! Wake up, please, god, don't let that woman hug you, don't you know what she did--

You keep moving on.

Then you see the arguments that spark something in you. “You need trauma, but the age range is wider than you’d think.”

Your sexual abuser abusive romantic partner best friend from high school. There’d been that time you fell out with her. That time you blew up at her because she’d kissed you in public, blamed you for teasing her too much. You realize how little you remember.

What else have you forgotten?

“I have trauma but it’s well past the age range,” you say to an anti-endo, knowing you shouldn't have spoken to them, because everyone tells you not to -- but none of them are traumatized, and this person is. “What’s wrong with people having this disorder without trauma?”

“There’s decades of research on this,” you’re told. “It sounds like you do have trauma. Consider that you might have some you don’t remember. Otherwise, you don’t have DID.”

You are 19. You have DID, you know it. You ignore this person. “These other people told me I don’t need trauma. You’re just gatekeeping. You’re just wrong. I’m not traumatized. I’m not like you. I’m better.”

You go to the ones who comforted you, listened to you, manipulated you. "I have trauma, I think, but it's past the age those anti-endos talk about, how ridiculous are they?"

"I'm so proud of you for standing up to those sysmeds! A lot of us have been traumatized because of how people treat our system. I'm sorry those anti-endos traumatized you."

"Well, it wasn't them -- but you're right. Anti-endos are traumatizing. They've traumatized me."

You believe the lie you spread, because they spread it first, and it sounds right. You do not mention that you learned you were sexually assaulted by a peer as a child. That would just be trauma dumping, and that would make you no better than a sysmed.

You are 19. You’re “cured” of your DID, because the plurals around you say that if you like your system, you don’t have DID. They say if you can’t remember your trauma, you probably don’t have any, and “most DID is caused by trauma, you just might be a disordered plural.” They call you endogenic, or mixed-origin, or autigenic. Trying to suggest you have DID leads to them talking about those horrible traumatized systems DID systems disordered systems anti-endos.

“You can’t listen to them. You can’t reblog from them. They’re homophobic, racist, transphobic, bigoted, ableist, wrong. Any information they share is ableist.”

You listen. You always have. You roll your eyes good naturedly at them suggesting you don't have trauma -- they just meant your system isn't caused by trauma. They just misspoke. That's all.

... But what if they're right?

You are 20. You are a ????? system. You say you have DID, because you are disordered and fit all of the criteria, and you can have DID without trauma. Maybe you are just plural?

You start getting into fights with systems online. You spread misinformation your experiences. Anyone who disagrees with you is an ableist gatekeeper. You get fakeclaimed and it hurts. Now you are traumatized by anti-endos. You try to avoid them more, falling deeper into those circles that include everyone, including you. They must love you. They love everyone.

You see a post about trauma. You realize, slowly, so so slowly, your parents have hurt you. You remember everything. No??? You remember so little, the voices scream, sob, you can’t remember it because you’re not even trying to. Why bother trying when you can live in denial, and keep getting abused each time you go home, and keep getting hurt worse and worse every single weekend?

You are 20. You are a DID system. You have trauma. You know some of it.

You go to your manipulators harassers friends. “I figured it out! My system was formed my trauma!"

“Oh, you poor soul, who told you that?”

You feel cold. “What?”

“Those awful anti-endos fakeclaiming you-“

You feel isolated. “No?”

“You can’t listen to them. You’re autigenic. You’re being manipulated. You don’t have trauma.”

“My parents-“

“They love you, that’s not abuse. They were rich, that’s not abuse. They only yelled at you, that’s not abuse. You aren’t traumatized — don’t let the anti-endos convince you that you are.”

You are desperate. “But my DID!”

They frown at you. “You don’t need trauma to have DID. Saying otherwise makes you a sysmed."

You leave your friends. They weren’t friends at all.

You isolate. You have nobody. You made it clear that you would not speak to the filth anti-endos traumatized systems like yourself. You have nobody left to talk about your trauma with.

You are 21. You are a traumatized DID system. You only have your partner and in real life friends. Your abusers force you to drink on your birthday, and come into your safe space. You have nightmares for weeks.

Then you’re 22 and you are stuck with your abusers. You can see their faces now. You know the truth. You feel sick.

You are 23. 24. 25. You find new circles. You've researched trauma more, not nearly enough. You briefly become anti-endo, frustrated as you see more and more people hurt like you were, frustrated that the pro-endo spaces do not have any resources for those like you. Then you mellow, you try to divorce your trauma from your experience online. You try to find places to spread research and knowledge, to be traumatized and have people recognize what that means.

You are attacked for being traumatized, because this space has never been safe for trauma victims. You remember how you used to think when you were 19. You remember how you felt when you were left all alone. You try to keep the doors open, but it's so so hard, and you have to take care of yourself too. But you try. God, you try to help others.

You are 26.

You are in so many circles — endogenic, plural, CDD, traumatic, traumagenic, it doesn’t matter. You have so many people.

You see people telling others, “You don’t need trauma to have DID!” You take a deep breath and follow what your disgusting medicalist inclusive and welcoming therapist has taught you about stopping spirals. You try not to say anything deep at first, because you’re clearly triggered, and recent lessons have taught you more that you need can’t be traumatized online without getting hurt badly.

But you see people denying their trauma. Saying, “I don’t remember any trauma, and even if I did have trauma, I don’t feel like I do."

You remember being that way. You remember not remembering. You remember how your parents sexually abused you, now, even after you thought you’d remembered it all. You remember how your parents hit you and neglected you alongside their overbearing lack of boundary keeping. You remember how you convinced yourself it wasn’t trauma.

You remember how you went back, for years, because of what people said.

You could have left at 19. You had the chance. The options. The doors to freedom were wide open, and you did not step out, because you thought your cage was already freedom.

How much sooner could you have been free if you had simply acknowledged you had trauma, and it had been made clear that it was okay to have trauma? That it would be safe to leave? That you deserved to be able to leave?

You do research. You've done research. You try to find proof of endogenic -- of non-trauma -- DID. You find fakeclaiming. You find people misinterpreting statistics, or even flat out lying about statistics. You find decades, even centuries of research, in the attempt to figure out what's happening. You even resort to literary analysis, because at least you might be able to find evidence of people discussing non-trauma DID as a legitimate scientific thing while psychoanalysing old texts -- just like back at 19, back in college, back when you first heard what DID was.

You find nothing.

You try to share your experiences still. You try to explain in more private spaces, spaces where there can't be anonymous hatred flung your way -- or worse, people who have determined that you are an enemy that must be defeated taking each word you say and twisting it to demonize you -- and you watch in horror as they remember.

"That's trauma?"

"That's disordered?"

"I've never heard of this before."

"I thought I was endogenic. I thought I didn't have trauma."

They're fine. They struggle -- but trauma is a struggle -- and more importantly, they now know what resources to even aim for. They know where to look. They know what can help.

You wish you'd known that.

And you will never, ever stop being bitter about the years those people took from you. You will never forgive them for their fakeclaiming. You will never forgive them for the years you spent being abused more.

But it's okay.

It's normal.

And isn't it better to be inclusive of that very slim amount of people who, despite all evidence to the contrary, and despite all of Occam's understandings, and despite the harm that inclusiveness does to those who are suffering, just have DID without any of that pesky, disgusting trauma?

What do I know? I'm just a filthy sysmed.