#was about the spiritual path of singlets

[poppyandzena]

sorry to be a bother about this. i just find it fascinating that she called it a tulpa, pepper "formed" after a trigger her metamour had (fear of spiders). just seems like shes "using" tulpamancy/spirituality to convince herself she has multiple ppl up there-- and using it to spite people or to avoid responsibility.

i don't think thats fair to people who actually have those issues; and have them as a result of trauma, not a "though form". not out of "necessity" her bpd has. it's not how dissociative disorder works.

the moment you claim you practiced tulpamancy, that's it. that's not an alter.

that shit does not make sense. and, of course, she deleted most of her tweets about it. but way back machine have them saved. please feel free to educate me in case i'm wrong.

I'm not well researched in tulpamancy. My focus is traumagenic dissociative disorders, and I know the debate around traumagenic vs. endogenic is a contentious one with nuance. As a singlet I can't make a claim of imitative DID based on rotten vibes alone. I can only repeat what Poppy claims, that Penny at least is born from a combination of BPD symptoms and tulapmancy. I personally find the mixing of religiosity and trauma research a dangerous path to spiral down. Tulpamancy originates from Tibetan Buddhism and is often stripped of that context and appropriated. You're talking to someone who found entertainment in reading the DSM as a child, so you can imagine my apprehension.

I will say this: Whether Poppy's alters are real or imitative, she uses them to manipulate the people around her. She has said on stream that Penny was "used as a weapon" and has been far more aggressive than what is appropriate. Poppy pulling the "Pepper needs a mom" thing from Noeh is appalling and shows a distinct lack of system responsibility. I know of more private things that reinforce this idea. It aggravates me as a friend of multiple systems.

[circulars-reasoning]

If One Alter Believes It, You All Do (it’s okay, promise)

Time for another long post, though fair warning, I am a bit sleepy. I just feel this is a very important post to make.

This post is open to debate, from all sides of syscourse. However, this post is written with specifically DID/OSDD/UDD/p-DID in mind, and may not be applicable to Endogenic plurals or DID (umbrella term) systems have spiritual headmates. Please keep this in mind if you reblog.

TL;DR: If one alter says something, you cannot just pass it off as “their personal belief.” That’s a belief the system, as a whole, has, and it’s up to YOU to fix that belief if it’s harmful.

I’ve seen more and more frequently lately folks posting about their alter doing XYZ horrible thing, and immediately saying how they disagree with those things. “I’m sorry for what Someone said, it was homophobic and wrong.” “I’m an anti-endo alter, but that alter is pro-endo, I apologize for what they said.” “This alter sent harassment to people, we’re deeply sorry for the pain they caused.”

It’s been very lovely seeing the culture on tumblr shift to have more system accountability - the recognition that someone in your system did something wrong, and YOU (as a collective) need to apologize.

However.

These things are almost always followed by bullshit. “Because of their actions, they’ve been put into forced dormancy.” What? “X isn’t allowed to front anymore.” You’re kidding me.

Remarkably, shoving the homophobe into a corner does not, in fact, make a homophobe no longer homophobic. And shoving your problematic alter in “system jail” for a bit is not going to get to the root of the issue, and is ignoring a much bigger problem.

Alters are all parts of one whole; they are fragments of one personality. This means, if one alter is homophobic? Congrats. You’re homophobic.

“But Circ! This is erasing the individual beliefs of a system!” Nope! If one alter is homophobic, and another alter is not, then congrats - you’re all homophobic sometimes. Just like a singlet, your beliefs and what you stand for changes sometimes.

It’s an uncomfortable truth, one that a lot of systems don’t want to acknowledge. “That alter is bad though!” Yes. And whose problem is that? Yours! I’m so glad you’ve come to recognize that there is part of you that you dislike. It’s common for people to realize they have an aspect of themself that might be problematic or “not good.” What are you going to do to change that part of yourself for the better? “Oh, don’t worry, I’m just going to lock that sort of myself away forever and ever.”

🤦‍♂️

When you’re a system, you need to work through your shit. If you have an alter that is homophobic, then you need to look at it less like “wow that alter is an asshole” and more like “yikes. That alter is part of me: why are they this way?”

Yes, maybe pulling this alter from the front is a temporary fix. But that cannot be the end of the story! You need to then analyze why you have this alter, why they are this way, and how you can help them grow.

“My alter said something homophobic and is a horrible person when fronting. We have stopped them from fronting for awhile.” Awesome! What will you do next?

❌ I will never let them front again and will condone their actions. They will continue to be homophobic, but now it won’t bother anyone.

✅ I will work through some of my internalized homophobia with them and help them feel safe enough to open up about it. They can change for the better, and while I acknowledge that they won’t change immediately, I can do my best to try.

I have seen more and more systems lately treat forced dormancy or stopping “bad alters” from fronting as the end of the story. That simply is not the case. It is up to each individual system to help process their trauma and help those alters grow - that’s the only path to recovery. And never forget: they are part of you. You are locking a part of yourself away. That would not be healthy for a singlet, so why on earth would it be healthy for you?

[thevulturesys]

GENERAL INFO: 

ABOUT US: Hey y’all, we’re the Vulture System. We’re a bodily 18 system of color! Our interests include horse riding, reading, writing, art, music, medicine, horror, and spirituality! Singlets are welcome on our page as long as you respect our boundaries and don’t act insensitive. We are human. We have feelings. And this is OUR safe space. 

We use ‘parts’ and ‘alters’ language interchangeably and refer to ourselves as a pwDID or a DID system so please use those for us!

We also suspect we have a personality disorder (somewhere in the cluster B zone) but won’t self diagnose or claim to have it for sure. 

We have been practicing the craft for 4-5 years and have taken an interest in the left hand path and infernals. We don’t talk much about our craft for privacy reasons but absolutely love talking to people about witchcraft in general!

We’re down to make friends with similar interests and can’t wait to interact with you all :)!

DNI: 

- Aside from your regular good ol’ boundaries, endos are NOT welcome here.

- People (bodily) under 16. 

- Anti-recovery or pro-ED.

Free to interact:

- Bodily 16+

- People of color

- Equestrians

- Practitioners 

- Other pwDID/OSDD!!

- Brownie points if: you’re a practitioner, like horses and dogs, medicine, horror, and are alternative!

Boundaries:

- Don’t talk about PDA with us.

- NO NSFW whatsoever.

- Do not treat us as an educational source, we are not qualified to educate, we are only sharing our experience as a pwDID. 

- Do not ask us invasive questions. 

- Absolutely NO front requests.

Failure to respect our boundaries will result in an immediate block.

[luxshine]

Sigh. Ok, Dear Moon Knight fandom,

We REALLY need to talk.

I've written now about... 5 posts begging people to tag their shit. In particular, to tag #Separate Bodies fics. For ME? It's a preference. I want to read about the Boys as whom they are, a System. I want to read about the challenges about navigating a relationship when everyone is in the same body (In those fics where Layla is not with them, although I do prefer them with Layla) or three people are in a body and the fourth one can only see/hear one at a time.

Is it challenging to write? Hell yeah. But it's possible.

HOWEVER, I am not the only reader of the Moon Knight fandom. Neither are all the members of the Moon Knight fandom singlets.

For obvious reasons, the Moon Knight fandom has a TON of interest from the Plural community. And THEY are the ones who get hurt and worse when they are hit with fic, after fic, after fic, after fanwork where the guys are depicted either as in separate bodies, or as thinking that the ONLY way to be happy is if they're in separate bodies.

Now, as every time, I will tell you that this is not a post about "Don't write X because of Y". This is a post that reminds you if you are going to write X... THINK of WHY.

And also, consider what the hell you are doing by turning a lovely Plural System into Three Separate Singlets just because it's easier for you.

Because what you are doing, intentionally or not? Is straight-washing, is white-washing, is Simple and Plain Erasure.

I can talk a lot about intersectional representation. Moon Knight, in the comics, is a Czech-American, Jewish, Neuro Divergent Plural Superhero. Do you know how RARE that is? Not only that, he's one of the very few, if not the ONLY representation of a System that doesn't have an Evil Alter, where every Alter cares for each other, and whose final goal is not Integration. Seriously, find another one. I will wait. Because the other two BIG ones in Marvel? Are Legion and Typhoid Mary. And BOY are those two a big package to Unpack.

With that in mind, making the boys have separate bodies? Is like making Marc Catholic considering that, in the series? He's the ONLY jewish character in the MCU. Yes, Magneto is jewish, but he is still not in the MCU; and Wanda and Pietro? Not Jewish even in the comics, because even if Magneto IS Jewish, their mother was Roma, and that's ANOTHER group that is so underrepresented that taking that away is a big no-no. Or grab one of the, again, incredibly few bisexual characters in comics and make them either exclusively homosexual or heterosexual. OR... well, sorry, grabbing a character of color and making them white.

I know some of you may jump at that comparison, but the boys's plurality is as basic and integral to their character as ethnicity is to T'challa or America Chavez, or Shang-chi. And since you wouldn't write white America Chavez... you shouldn't just write Moon Knight in separate bodies, at least not without WARNING.

Oh, and for those who want to say "But if I tag it AU is fair game"? No. Marvel Universe canon: Every single Moon Knight in every single universe of the multiverse? Is Plural. Hell, even Arachknight who is MORE of a Peter Parker alternate universe version has DiD, because he is also Moon Knight. Yes, some writers only pay lip service to the DiD -glaring at Dixon- but at the very least they DO describe Moon Knight as having Did. So the Au tag by itself doesn't imply otherwise. SO again, PLEASE, two words: Separate Bodies. That's IT.

Consider the group you are part of, because I am willing to bet that unless you are white, cis, straight, neurotypical, body abled AND within the margin of 25 - 35 years of age in the USA? You are part of an under represented or misrepresented minority group. How much representation in media THAT side of your self has. And how much of it is actually positive and not a negative stereotype that makes you be the victim of harassment or discrimination. And then imagine someone NOT part of that group coming, and striping THAT away from the one character you managed to find and claim as your own.

And again, yes, you may say "But Moon Knight is also Jewish representation, Autistic representation, Hispanic representation, so why can't we focus on those?" Well, first, I never said you couldn't. Yo can and you should. NO part of Moon Knight's background and personalities (as in, the personalities of each Alter, of course) should be erased. Marc and Steven are jewish, Jack -in the series - Is latino, not just "knows spanish" (and well, yeah, actually, all off them are Jewish and latino because that's something the Body IS, but of the three, Marc and Steven are the ones who got all the visual clues to their jewishness, such as the Star of David necklace, while Jack wasn't on screen long enough to know, and neither Steven nor Marc seemed interested in their latin roots given that their hispanic parent was, well, Wendy.), and because TPTB said so? The guys ARE Autistic. But before ALL of that? They're THEY. They're a System, and we must respect that.

And, unlike other changes and communities who WILL pile on you if you erase them (Seriously, I dare you: Say that Willow Rosenberg from Buffy the Vampire Slayer is Bisexual and not a Lesbian. I will be on the sidelines with popcorn because Man, that is always a shitstorm) the Plural community ONLY asks for respect in the form of Tags.

So yeah, keep writing your separate bodies fic if you want. But for the love of Tawaret (Because I know you, Moon Knight Fandom, not many of us love Khonshu) TAG YOUR SHIT!

[evilneo]

do you know any good sources or blogs to learn about the definitions of some terms? (like irl, kin, fictive, delusional attachment, etc)

i'm a singlet and am hesitant to just google it and get an unreliable source, or a source that the majority of systems dislikes.

also please ignore this if its annoying to constantly answer questions and educate others, i understand ‼️👍. thank you!

not off the top of my head? I can give you the definitions as (I understand them) tho <3 wording might be weird in places I am so tired LOL

Fictive: Fictive is a colloquial shorthand for Fictional Introject! a Fictional Introject is an alter in a DID or OSDD system that is "based" (or literally introjected) off of a fictional character. Systems cant chose their introjects, and introjects are their own people. Fictive is a system only term. and to simplify, fictives are always who they are (tho there are some that make the choice distance themselves from their source but this is usually an active choice they make)

Delusional Attachments: a type of delusion in which you believe yourself to be someone else, usually a fictional character. DA isnt a medical term, its a colloquial term that ppl with psychosis use to describe a specific delusion. Delusions can wax and wane in intensity, and can sometimes go away.

IRL: This is another term for DA I think? I like this term less than DA but like shrugs each to their own. I also remember it being used in the context of "highest kin" (kin you most strongly ID with) in kinnie communities, but that was a WHILE ago and this may have changed

Kin: heavily identifying with a character (or an object or an animal etc etc, but the context of this is centering fiction kinning), either as a spiritual thing or just for fun or something in between, it can mean different things to different people.

im not too active in DA communities and I dont really interact at all with Kin communities (not for any particular reason! our paths just dont really cross too often) so if I get anything wrong feel free to correct yeah? and if anyone else has any sources <3 pls and tysm

[trinrose3]

Sorry if anything comes off as blunt or rude, im just trying to help by giving what info i know:

Fictive: An identity that is part of a system that is a fictional character. Some psychologists question the validity, but they still question the validity of Dissociative Personality Disorder (those with OSDD can also have multiple identities) in general, so take different sources with a grain of salt. People with multiples are often referred to as systems, and those without are singlets, iirc.

Fiction kin: A type of otherkin*. The person kins a fictional character, and the reason can range from spiritual to psychological to coping mechanism. I've also seen some people who thought they kinned a character only for it to be revealed later they were part of a system. This is not always the case, but it can happen.

Otherkin: While you may have only seen it on tumblr, I've seen it in Pagan/Neopagan circles, and it comes with some controversy, as it's argued whether or not it's a form of cultural appropriation. Several shamanic religions have a similar system iirc, but I couldn't tell you which ones or how it works. In paganism, especially Wicca-leaning paths, there is the Astral Plane, where some believe they can visit, via astral projection, and otherkins I've come across claim to have different bodies when they visit there, such as being an elf, dragon, or even an angel or demon in the astral, making them elfkin, dragonkin, etc.

Kinning can also be psychological or for comfort, but I'm more aware of the spiritual aspect.

Also, Multiple Personality Disorder has been renamed Dissociative Personality Disorder years ago as pur understanding of it has grown, and BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder, I couldn't tell if you were making a typo or thinking of another disorder) has "unstable sense of self," as one of the symptoms and is a big part of the disorder, so while I think it's possible people who have kins may have it or borderline tendencies (something commonly heard for people who have some of the major symptoms but not all), I don't think they're "faking" anything really, and I don't try to deduce someone's reasons for kinning unless they're open about it. BPD is also pretty underdiagnosed thanks to the stigma surrounding it still (there are still psychologists who refuse to treat people with BPD), so for those that do have it and find comfort in kinning, I see nothing wrong.

Sorry if this was ranty but I hope it helped.

Ahhh thanks that helped a lot! i was just weary of it cause it seemed to pop up out of nowhere and than suddenly there were a bunch of people talking about it and I know that mental disabilities and disorders DO get appropriated a lot (like the “oh I’m so ocd I just organized my desk and freak when it gets messy 🥴” or “oh I’m so adhd I kept tapping my foot in that boring lecture”) and was gonna be like that “dream shifting” tiktok trend so I was a bit suspicious but I’m glad to see that that’s not the case!

also thank you for correcting my improper term use!

[biohazardousvoidwithfangs]

please dni if you’re going to debate about the meaning of words or whatever; I’m not here for an argument. I’m posting this to help myself process my own sense of identity.

I vibe with this tweet that said “Been thinking a lot about ‘kinning’ lately in relation to the Self being a nebulous unknowable abstract concept that can only be approximated instead of defined, and kinning as more a way to approach an articulation of the Self” in a way I struggle to word. I know other/k/i/n is its thing with its own definition, but “to kin” as a verb has taken on a very different meaning and that’s more of what I feel this is about. Maybe “gender” is a more appropriate word to talk about the approximation of the self, but trans and queer people need more words to talk about their experiences; there’s a severe lack of words to describe this concept, this feeling, this experience and a lot of people have taken up “kinning” as a descriptor.

more under the cut about the grey area between gender, kin, and plurality

Like my being trans is 100% linked to my being alterhuman. The way I experience dysphoria is a big mix of physical (internal), social (external), and species. To me gender and my alterhuman identity are so close to being one and the same. I don’t have words to be able to attempt to tell them apart. What even is an identity? Why can’t trans (and alterhuman) people use flowery and descriptive and evocative language like cis people? If people can say the sun has masculine vibes/gender why can I say that I have the same vibes/gender as the stars? as the cold, vast expanse of space? What’s the difference between saying “my gender is the void” and “I identify as the void”? Why aren’t they the same? They are to me. Is that spiritual? Is that psychological? Aren’t kin and gender both parts of a soul? I’ve got no fucking clue. If I have a gender, it’s beyond the realm of human understanding. I can only understand my gender in abstract terms and not a human-derived binary. I guess this is where people have come up with the term “conceptkin”? But. Is the reason I can’t tell these things apart because I have no gender and I’m confusing kintypes/sense of self with gender? or is it because I have no sense of identity/sense of self and only have fragments of a xenogender to cling to?

I think my experiences are also clouded by possibly being a median system. My sense of self/identity sure as fuck feels fragmented. If I have headmates, I don’t know if any of them have clear voices, clear personalities, clear species. It’s a swirling mass of question marks and colors. It feels very quantum mechanics. I can describe pieces and parts and these parts feel separate but they also feel like pieces of a whole. And I don’t know if that’s just me attempting to be a singlet, forcing my identity into a funnel until it squeezes out some semblance of a coherent person, or if I actually am a singlet that’s been through too much trauma, or if I’m just a singlet that experiences this bc of neurodivergencies. So if I can’t tell any of that apart, how am I supposed to know what gender vs kin is? 

I really liked this one post I found about an alterhuman spectrum. It’s three scales: voluntary vs involuntary, integrated vs separate, and dysphoria levels. Something like that would probably be helpful for people talking about their experiences. For me all of this is completely involuntary and integrated with my Self. I experience dysphoria about somethings and not about others. Or pieces of me experience dysphoria and other fragments don’t. I don’t really care to get into the linguistics of other/k/i/n vs other/hearted vs syn/path (is that how it’s spelled?) because none of that makes any sense to me personally; it doesn’t make sense to me personally to attempt to use those words to describe my experiences. “Feeling connected to” and “being” feel the same to me. In the same way that I can’t tell apart “identifying as” as gender or kin. We use the same! terminology! for both! What even is a “sense of self”?

Does anyone else feel similarly? Am I alone in this? in being in that super grey area between being trans, alterhuman, and (possibly) plural? there have to be other people out there in that grey space

I also want to clarify that there’s a huge variety of experiences being shoved under the “kin” umbrella (and I’m not going to play into the “is this one more valid than that one” way of thinking) But this post is about involuntary experiences. And I think, when it comes down to it, that’s what “kin” usually means- involuntary experiences.

please dni if you’re going to debate about the meaning of words or whatever; I’m not here for an argument. I’m posting this to help myself process my own sense of identity. I’m not looking for new labels or things to identify myself as so please don’t come here and say “oh that sounds like x not y. You’re definitely x.” I’m open to respectful responses from people who feel similarly. Not a debate. If you want to talk negatively about this, feel free to screenshot what I said and make your own post, but don’t drag me into it.

[kinarchist]

It’s really hard being a post-fictive with little-to-no memory of the life I lived before the system. It happens to most everyone who walks in -- we forget. But those of us in the SPN crew here, we all kind of silently agreed we never wanted to watch the show. Didn’t wanna remember how awful our lives were before. But now I feel like I’ve pushed it away too much, too hard. I’m losing my sense of self and struggling to connect spiritually to G?d when I don’t really have a great understanding of how I lived and connected to Them before I came here. I know some of what the show says, but it doesn’t take long for anything in-depth about God-from-the-show to become utter bullshit for me both memory-wise and from the perspective of a Jewish person looking at a work of Bible fanfic. :v So I actually have to sit down and re-connect. Get out of the show what I can, what makes sense, what’s relevant. And that means watching wayyy past Season 5, which is painful to even think about, but apparently I remain the only good character by the final seasons ? I’d believe it. Oftentimes fictives are characterized by our memories and how close we are to them, but it’s really more that that was my life, whether I remember it or not. I am, was, always have been the Angel Gabriel (even if that’s not my name now) and it makes everyday topics like “growing up” and “family” and “school” hard to talk about in ways I think singlets and plurans* who grew up in their body (especially if you were/thought you were a singlet) take for granted. I didn’t grow up. I’ve always been fully formed as I am now. And I came into the body late, so there was no puberty to go through. No schooling. And my “parents?” Literally G?d. How do you tell someone your parent is G?D?? You donT!! And anyway all of this adds up to navigating Jewishness and G?d and my relationship to the spiritual side of those things being very complicated and hard to even get advice from rabbis on :V There was one who seemed far more interested in engaging with me on the topic and he started me on my conversion path so I might get back in contact with him at some point. But in the end a lot of this is just .. up to me. Tl;dr being a fictive angel and navigating religion and G?d is hard. *a demonym for individuals in plural systems that I’m trying out and seeing if others pick up

[sherlockxreader]

Saved Me

Title: Saved Me Summary: The new person on 221B sparks Sherlock’s interest from their first day and a friendship blooms that transforms Sherlock Author: Maddy (@laterthantherabbit) Words: 4150 Characters/Relationships: Sherlock x reader Warnings: Mention of depression towards the end

Request: HELLO! i have a request if you're intrested: sherlock xfem reader, where she's a 22 year old girl from down the street , edgy and very spiritual (with pastel hair and some tattoos and stuff) and Sherlock somehow becomes interested in her and they become v good friends with strong feelings for each other (doesnt have to be romantic) and everyone else are just like "???" about sherlock's new friend bc she's so different from him, even Molly is jealous lol thanks i love your content😭💕 - anonymous

Author’s Notes: Honestly I wasn’t too sure what to do with this at first. I tried to make this a platonic and affectionate relationship but it may seem too lovey-dovey. I hope it’s still good though. Sherlock is really ooc too by the way but that’s just cause the reader brings that side of him out. It’s cute. Also I wasn’t sure what you meant by spiritual but edgy really inspired me so it may sway that way a bit more, though the reader is also sensitive. I really hope this lives up to your standards nonny, I really loved writing this!

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

Sherlock and John had just finished chasing a murderer that morning and were walking back to 221B. Sherlock immediately saw that something was happening on the street due to the large moving truck parked directly in front of 221B. He had at first scowled, his mood darkening by the idea of having a commotion outside of his flat for the next few hours after a case however, when he saw you, his interest was spiked and he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. Not in an attracted way mind you, but rather a curious one. He had seen people who looked like you before, there were hundreds of people with coloured hair in London, twenty at least with some resemblance of the lavender shade you wore, however you were the first he had seen with the unique undercut shown so blatantly to the world. The nape of your hair had been shaved in a geometrical pattern, displayed to the world as you had had your hair styled in a messy bun on the crown of your head. Your singlet was loose fitting, allowing a peek of the bandages and progressing tattoo on your back to show as well as the sleeve on your right arm, which featured feathers leading up to a broken pocket watch on your shoulder, the feathers dripping with some pale substance. You were wearing denim shorts due to the unexpected heat of the London day, which showed some of your tattoo on your left thigh, a rabbit’s lower half, a waistcoat beginning to show on the rabbits torso, the entire image presumably surrounded by bleeding roses. The morbid images were peculiar and only furthered Sherlock’s curiosity of you.

As he and John had neared their door, he could hear your voice telling the moving men which building you were moving in, the sound carrying a certain air of superiority, much like how John’s voice changed when he pulled rank. You didn’t notice them until you had turned to pick up a box containing some of your clothes. You had greeted them politely after John introduced both him and Sherlock. Sherlock offered to help before John could, (to which John scoffed and looked at him with bewilderment etched upon his square face) but you had turned him down, saying that you were nearly done but thanking him all the same. After that you had wished them a good day and left to finishing unpacking. Sherlock was confused. People usually nearly always accepted his help when he asked in that tone but you had refused. He followed John into 221B with you at the front ofhis mind.

Since that day, you hadn’t ever really considered yourself involved with the self-proclaimed sociopath any more so than your neighbours, other than knowing his line of work and reading John’s blog from time to time. You just minded your own business on Baker Street, going down to a close tattoo parlour regularly to have your large back tattoo completed whilst you worked double shifts at a cafe on the street over. However unknown to you, you had been involved in Sherlock’s life since the very same day. It wasn’t until you were walking back from your job later one night when you would cross paths again and begin your close friendship.

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

You had your deep mahogany scarf wrapped tightly around your neck, your coat buttoned with the collar up to shield your face further from the wind. You walked quickly down the streets to reach your warm home sooner when you heard footsteps trailing you. You took a glimpse in the reflective windows across the street and saw that a larger man in a hoodie was following you after coming out from seemingly nowhere. What was stranger still was that there was another man with a large coat following him. You shook your head and walked faster. Your home was only a couple blocks away now and you were sure that the hooded man wouldn’t try anything with the other person following them. You thought wrong.

The hooded man burst into a sprint and quickly caught up to you. He wrapped his hand around your waist harshly and moved behind you, pressing a knife to your throat before turning to the man, Sherlock as you could see now. “Not another step Mr. Holmes, or the pretty little girl gets it.” You scowled. You hated people seeing you as anything less than the proud and determined woman you were. ‘Little girl’ was one of those pet names that just couldn’t fail to get you worked up. You saw red as adrenaline began to surge through your blood.

“Little girl?!” You had grasped the man’s hand with the knife in it and quickly pulled it away from your neck before he could act. He struggled against you briefly as you twisted your body under his arm, bringing the knife and his arm around with you so that it was painfully close to breaking. “I am not... a…” The point of the knife pressed against his back as you kicked his knees to the ground, “...little…” you pulled his arm the last bit, hearing a satisfying crack echo through the street, “...girl!” the man’s wails quickly filled the street. He dropped the knife to the pavement so he could bring his arm around to a more comfortable position as you delivered a swift punch to his temple, knocking him clean out. You huffed out some breaths, brushing the bits of hair in your face out of your eyes before you picked up the man’s knife and headed over to Sherlock, who had stood stock still for the whole few seconds of fast-paced action.

“Y-you… what just… how?” Sherlock stuttered as you approached him, smiling a little at his halting speech. If he hadn’t been impressed by you before, he sure was now.

“I’ve been taking self-defense classes all my life. I can handle myself thanks so, no need to follow me anymore.” At this he stood up straighter and plucked the knife from your hands.

“For your information, I was following that man there who murdered his sister-in-law three days ago.” He popped up his collar against the wind and you whistled, low and clear.

“Wow really? I’ve taken down a few would-be rapists but never a murderer I don’t think. Or maybe I have. Sherlock right?” You extended your gloved hand to Sherlock, who grasped it in his own.

“Yes and you’re Y/N,” His eyes widened as he saw blood trickling from a small cut on the underside of your jaw, “And you’re bleeding.”

“Am I?” Sherlock reached out his hand and swiped his thumb over some of the blood from your neck.. “Would you look at that, I am. Don’t worry about it, I’ll patch myself up at home. Do I have to do anything now? I know you’re a detective; I’ve seen your friends blog. Do I need to go with you somewhere to be questioned?” Sherlock stood shocked at your dismissal of your injury, as if this had happened before. His interest in you grew as sirens approached quickly. Two police cars rounded the corner, followed by an ambulance. “Oh, never mind.” It was only now that he realised you had asked him a question that he didn’t answer. He huffed, handing you a clean handkerchief from his pocket so you could wipe away some of the blood.

“Lestrade’s late as usual.” Sherlock grumbled as he waited for one of the cars to slow to a stop near you two. From that car, two officers, one of them approaching you and Sherlock. You rocked on the balls of your feet as you waited for the man, presumably Lestrade to join you and Sherlock.

“You couldn’t just leave this to us could you Sherlock? Do you know how much paperwork this is going to take?” Lestrade sighed as he looked over at the man who was still unconscious and being handled by paramedics, a few officers keeping their eyes out in case he wakes again. When he turned back he saw that you were holding the kerchief to your neck. “Miss are you okay? We need a medic over here!”

“Oh no that’s not necessary, um, Detective Inspector. I’m fine.” You protested as Sherlock spoke over you.

“She’s fine and yes I know how you loath paperwork but don’t worry, hardly any will be required. He pulled a knife on her and she acted accordingly. Self-defense. Simple. I had nothing to do with his state this time.” Sherlock waved his hand out as he gestured to the man and to you before flouncing off to wait across the road. Lestrade looked to you with wide eyes, somewhat wary though he didn’t show it much.

“I’m sorry about him. I’m going to have to ask you a few questions before you go miss.” Lestrade had pulled out a small notepad and a pen as he began to ask you a couple of questions. Sherlock waited off to the side of the scene for the quarter of an hour you were interviewed for. When he saw you finishing up with Lestrade, he had marched back over and told Lestrade that he was taking you home and that he would come in tomorrow to give his statement, leaving with you in tow before Lestrade could argue.

You and Sherlock walked down some way, the sirens in the background dulling as you left. “I can walk myself home you know, but thanks anyway.” Sherlock glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his interest in you being concealed by his neutral features.

“My pleasure.” As you approached your building you fumbled in your pocket for your keys before Sherlock stopped you as he spoke. “No need for that Y/N. I’m sure you know John is a doctor, he will help you. I’m taking you to 221B so he can do just that.”

“I don’t want to put you out really Sherlock. I’ll be f-”

“Why do not let people help you?” Sherlock interrupted you quickly, making you stop in your tracks and look up at him. He looked down at his shoes, seeming somewhat embarrassed for his rudeness.

“Oh, um, I don’t know. Easier maybe? I’ve found I can get stuff done quicker by myself.” You shrugged as you answered his question before resuming walking down the street, Sherlock by your side.

“So you’ve fixed cuts before have you?”

“Oh loads of times. I’m always getting into accidents.”

“Like tonight.” Sherlock stopped this time, looking at you with something akin to surprise in his eyes, his eyebrow cocked. You laughed at his implication, it’s sound echoing through the empty street.

“Oh god no not like that. Like, I run into stuff all the time and cut myself when I cook, that sort of stuff. I once accidentally stapled through my finger once.” Sherlock’s look turned to horror as you listed some of the accidents that had resulted in some of your current injuries. You sliced open your hand whilst cooking, ran into a door and gave yourself a split lip when your alarm went off in the other room, fell in the shower whilst shaving and cut up the length of your calf. All Sherlock could hear running through his head was that you were a danger to yourself. He shook this voice out of his head and grabbed your hand, leading you to 221B. “Hey what are you doing, my flat’s in that building.”

“I told you, John is going to look at your cut, and your hand, and your calf and any other injuries you’ve given yourself.”

“I’m fine, real-” Sherlock turned to you, his eyes cold and demanding as he looked at you. “Okay, I’ll go.” He nodded and continued to lead you to 221B.

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That night, John had looked at all of your self-inflicted injuries, fixing you up with some bandages and ointments to keep the wounds clean, all the while Sherlock had paced behind John looking at you, concerned. John had said that he was going to the pub that night with Greg after he had finished up with the case. After he left, you had ended up staying for dinner when Sherlock had asked you of the meaning behind your tattoos. You could see that he was intrigued by them so you pointed to each one as you explained and ate take-away. The feathers and pocketwatch represented your brother. He died a few years ago due to his impulsiveness and ambition, which you had always related to the story of Icarus, hence the wax dripping from the feathers. The rabbit was obviously the white rabbit from Alice in Wonderland, so too were the roses around it. These, you said, were after your mother and father, who used to read you the fairytale when you were younger, before they died in a car crash when you were ten. Sherlock offered his condolences after hearing your story before speaking again. “What about the one on your back?”

“How did you know about that one?”

“I saw some of it and the bandages on the day you moved in.”

“Oh, well it’s still healing but my last session was last week so I should be good soon. It’s a bit hard to explain without you seeing it.” Sherlock nodded as he ate some more of his chinese. You took a sip of your drink before he spoke again, albeit more timid than he had been that evening.

“Would you show me once it’s healed?” He looked so unsure of himself in that moment, as if what he said was going to drive you away. Instead, you smiled and nodded.

“I’d love to. It’s hard for me to see it all and it’ll be nice for the first person to see it to be a friend.” Sherlock visibly brightened at your words, though he tried to contain it a little. Something about you just made him feel so many things. Protectiveness. Safety. Happiness and now friendship. Though he was still unsure.

“Friends?”

“Well yeah, I helped you catch a murderer, we’re having dinner together, learning about each other. I’d say we’re friends now.” You smiled brighter at Sherlock’s reaction, which was to smile wider and blush a little. You laughed when he moved to the kitchen quickly, bringing out two glasses and a bottle of wine. You cocked your eyebrow and he blushed more when he realised he hadn’t explained his actions.

“I thought we could celebrate your last tattoo session. And our new friendship.”

“I doubt it’ll be my last but sure.” You patted next to you as you shuffled across a bit, letting Sherlock sit in the space you had created. You two drank that night, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. When John came home, you had fallen asleep leaning against Sherlock, who was also asleep. John couldn’t help but gape at the sight and wonder about connection you had seemed to forge with Sherlock in the few hours you were here. Even he didn’t have that level of intimacy after living with him for months. He shook his head as he shed his coat and made his way up to his room, smiling slightly at the idea that his best friend now had another.

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Your close friendship with Sherlock that had been made within a night wasn’t just lost on John however. After that day you had been in 221B nearly everyday. Mrs. Hudson was confused when you had first came knocking, asking if you could go up to the flat. She thought you were a client, following you up the stairs to show you in yet when you had opened the door and Sherlock let out a loud and excited greeting, asking you to see what you thought of his latest experiment, she jumped in shock, before sighing making you both some tea and asking you on how you had met Sherlock.

When you had joined Sherlock to a level five crime scene, after his insistent whining and pleading, Lestrade had dropped his coffee and choked on the sip he had taken, not expecting to see you ever again, let alone walking beside Sherlock in a pair of tight jeans and flowing singlet top, your healing tattoo wrapped in fresh bandages, thanks to Sherlock. Sally and Anderson, which Sherlock had told you about, had tried to stop you from entering the scene, even calling you a freak in the process, your wild now silvery-pink hair, tattoos and bandaged back unsettling them. Sherlock stood nose to nose with both of them after that remark, sending scathing truth after scathing truth at them, revealing their activities from the past hour before throwing his arm around your shoulder in a rare public display of affection and leading you inside, your arm wrapped around his waist. After that day the whole of the Yard had speculated the extent of your relationship, trying to figure out how you two of all people even meet and who could possibly break through into the sociopath’s heart. You and Sherlock made a joke about it, feeding them more and more ‘evidence’ to their theories. You had both laughed for a solid hour after he had kissed the crown of your head, Lestrade saying that you had sent the entire Yard into a frenzy when you had left.

The only person (other than Sally and Anderson), who had not accepted your’s and Sherlock’s relationship was forensic pathologist, Molly Hooper. In fact, she had been one of the people who hadn’t accepted you at all. Oh she smiled when you were with Sherlock and treated you politely enough, though when Sherlock wasn’t in the lab with you, she turned cold and offensive to you, only replying to your questions in harsh tones and words and keeping to herself otherwise. At first you had tried to make friends with her, get to know her a bit but soon you realised that she wasn’t going to change her attitude towards you so you let her go. You remained kind, though you stopped talking to her unless it was necessary. Though you let her abrasiveness flow off you, it still hurt. You didn’t know why she acted like she did and when you had tried to talk to her, she had shut you out further and continued her research. You didn’t want to bother Sherlock with her pettiness so you kept it to yourself, letting it eat away at you for a couple of weeks.

After your back had healed enough, you texted Sherlock, asking if he wanted to see it. He had texted back straight away, saying that he would love too and that you should let yourself in as he was out picking up some chinese and not to worry as he had ordered you some too. You sent back an emoji (which Sherlock usually hated but with you he adored them) of a happy face before you turned back to the full length mirror, your tattoo reflecting back so you could see. It was still hard to see it without having a photo but you could get Sherlock to do that tonight. You smiled as you got dressed and locked up your flat, walking the short distance to 221B and letting yourself into the flat. You walked up the stairs with a smile on your face until you heard a feminine voice fill the room as you stepped into the threshold.

“Sherlock, I need to talk to you abou- you’re not Sherlock.” Molly’s voice changed from serious though kind to dead flat in a matter of seconds when she realised it was you not Sherlock.

“No I’m not. Hi though Molly, Sherlock didn’t tell me you were here too.” You shuffled from foot to foot as the flat filled with tension.

“That’s because he doesn’t know I’m here.” She crossed her arms and stood straight, offense and disgust in her posture. “You shouldn’t either.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me. You’re not good for Sherlock and should just keep away from him.” You shook your head as Molly spoke. You knew it wasn’t true but that doesn’t mean the words don’t sting anyway.

“Look Molly, I don’t know what I did to upset you but I’m sorry, I wouldn’t hurt Sherlock ever. He’s my friend.”

“I don’t care what you think you are to him but you should just leave.”

“Molly!” You heard Sherlock’s voice erupt from behind you, anger laced within the single word so effectively that you could feel it within your body. He came to stand next to you, wrapping the arm not holding the food around your shoulders as he pulled you closer. You could feel tears starting to prick your eyes, a little out of relief, though a lot from Molly’s words.

“Sh-Sherlock! Listen we need to talk.”

“No. No we don’t Molly. You need to leave. Now.”

“But-”

“NOW!” You had heard Sherlock yell plenty of times but never with so much rage in his voice. Molly flinched and gathered her stuff, her face red with the embarrassment of being caught saying such rude things to you. She walked past, sending you an irritated glare before descending the stairs and leaving the building. You sniffed and wiped under your eyes to try and hold back your few tears.

“Hey Sherl.” He dropped the bag and wrapped his arms tightly around you, rubbing your back soothingly and gently, still careful of your tattoo.

“I’m sorry. I knew Molly was jealous but I never thought she would talk to you like that. Ever.”

“I know Sherl it’s fine.” You sniffed again before you stepped back and smiled up at him. “Do you want to see my tattoo now?”

He smiled back down at you and pressed a light kiss to your forehead. “I’d love too. Before or after food?”

“After. God how do you not know that yet?” He chuckled as he took off his coat whilst you picked up the bag and settled yourself cross-legged on the couch, opting to eat out straight out of the containers with a pair of chopsticks instead of gathering plates and forks. Sherlock had gone into the kitchen, grabbing one of your customary bottles of red wine and a pair of wine glasses. You two ate comfortably, talking about your day and asking Sherlock about the case he had had that morning (it was barely a three Y/N! They said it was a 7 at least!). When you had both finished, the flat turned dead quiet. You took a deep breath before you turned around, showing your back to Sherlock before you took off your shirt. You were comfortable enough with Sherlock to not feel self conscious as he studied your back (he did walk about in nothing but a sheet somedays), even letting him touch the artwork that adorned your skin. You were most concerned about what he would think of the artwork. It was a large violin, the scroll of the violin being at the nape of your neck and the tailpiece and chinrest sitting on your lower back. The interesting thing was that this part of the violin was instead an image of the human spine. The strings followed down the spine and the body of the violin emerged from the bones, seemingly attached to your spine itself. The black and white violin rested on a bed of roses, matching those that surrounded the rabbit on your thigh. You swallowed as you broke the deafening silence that had blanketed the flat. “So? What do you think?”

“I-It’s beautiful. What does it mean?”

“You already know this but I love music and, well, before I met you, i-it saved me. I was in a bad place before I moved to Baker Street. I felt alone in the world after my brother passed and I wasn’t coping all that well, but listening to music gave me a reason to get up in the mornings. I chose the violin on a whim because it was one of the most symmetrical instruments and I thought it would look nice but, after meeting you… what I mean to say is...  is that I think it represents you now.” You had put your shirt back on and turned around to face Sherlock after explaining, only to find that he had tears in his eyes. “Sherlock? Are you okay?” You had barely finished your question when you were engulfed in a bear hug from the man himself. “Hey, hey it’s okay.”

“It’s not! I don’t deserve to be represented in such a way. I’m not right for something like that!” You sighed and rubbed Sherlock's back as he had done earlier, tears streaming down you face now as you watched your friend break down.

“Sherlock listen to me. You are perfect. I couldn’t have asked for a better friend in all my years and I am so glad that you were following me that night.” A watery laugh-sob escaped Sherlock's throat as he recalled the night. You giggled back through your own tears. You kissed his head before he sat back, a wide albeit quivering smile on his face.

“I wasn’t following you I wa-”

“Was following the murderer, I know.” You nodded your head as you finished his sentence. You laughed as you leaned in for another hug. “I don’t know how long you are going to deny that you were following me, but I don’t care. I’m so grateful for that night Sherlock. You saved me.”

“Me too, Y/N. Me too.” You two sat together, entwined in each other’s arms, crying at first then laughing at your cliche-ness. You ended up staying over (again) that night, lying down on the couch as Sherlock lay behind you, his hand under your shirt tracing your tattoo’s pattern over and over until it was committed to memory, along with everything else about you. He wouldn’t allow himself to forget anything about you, he thought as you began to fall asleep.

He wouldn’t be able to forget you, even if he tried. He couldn’t forget the person who had saved him from himself.