#so the anxiety/heart rate side effects of this medication are that much worse

[relicsongmel]

New ADHD medicine in conjunction with brain fog is doing strange things to me. One minute I'm dealing with headaches and fatigue. Then I'm having an anxiety episode. Next thing I know I'm trying to figure out the best way to clean coins

[howtofightwrite]

I'm writing a scene where character A gets ambushed by an assassin. A gets injured and starts bleeding out. B swoops in to save them in the nick of time, but A starts fading in and out of consciousness. B transports A using a horse-drawn carriage (setting is 1890's London, so no cars) to a safe place for medical attention. Would the carriage be safe enough for transportation or make things worse? Also, any ideas where the wound could plausibly be located on A? (Stab/cut, no guns.)

Okay, so this is a good news/bad news situation.

The good news is that blood loss is really easy to understand. If someone pokes a hole in you, and you start leaking, you'll generally keep leaking at a pretty consistent rate until you manage to stop the leak, or until you start getting additional holes poked in you.

Now, joking aside, moving around, and staying active can accelerate bleed out. Especially if you're engaging in activity that keeps your heart rate up. For example: Running, or fighting. But, normally, you're going to keep losing blood at a fairly consistent rate. (Now, it's worth noting, as you lose blood, your body will actually increase your heart rate to keep oxygen going to your brain. This means that the rate of loss isn't completely consistent. You'll also start hyperventilating.)

The fun part about blood loss is it can actually turn into a math problem. If you know the volume lost per interval, you can calculate roughly how long it will take to die. Just take 2,000, then divide that by the blood lost in milliliters per interval (so, for example, minutes), and then you will know how many minutes your character has before they bleed to death. (Technically you can go over that two liters lost a little bit. (In sloppy napkin math, this means that you'll slightly overestimate how long the character will last.)

Here's the problem.

Hypovolemic shock has four recognized stages. These stages are bracketed by how much blood you've lost. Stage one is up to 15%, Stage two is 15-30%, Stage 3 is 30-40%, and Stage 4 is 40% or more. You might know that the human body has roughly five liters of blood in it, and if you were paying attention you'll notice that two liters is 40% of five liters.

As a quick aside, Stage 1's only symptom is that you'll be a little paler than usual. Otherwise you're basically fine (even if you don't feel particularly great.) To put this in context, you can (almost) lose a liquor bottle's worth of blood without serious side effects.

Once you hit stage 2 and 3, you'll see some mental issues. Anxiety and restlessness at Stage 2, confusion and impaired reasoning at stage 3.

Loss of consciousness (and comas) are symptoms of stage 4 blood loss.

This is the bad news. If you are losing consciousness from loss of blood, you have already lost so much blood that your body (and possibly your brain) are already dying. Humans can lose a frightening amount of blood before it incapacitates them. And, that fun little math problem earlier, the time to death that you're calculating, is also the time to loss of consciousness, because there's a tiny margin between, you bled to the point that you're drifting in and out of consciousness, and, you have bled to death.

There's still some hope here, but it's not great. First aid for hypovolemic shock is to stop the bleeding. It kinda makes sense, because if you don't, they'll bleed to death and after that, it won't really matter. That means, if you're swooping in to the rescue, the first thing you need to do is stop the bleeding, as best you can. When you're already looking at someone in stage 3 or 4, you're not going to stop it in the field, and the best you can do is buy time. But that is a critical step.

This leads to a really important question. How long did it take your character to lose two liters of blood?

Because, if they lost that much blood duringthe fight (which is, actually possible with some arterial hits), there is no medical science that would keep them alive long enough to get them to a surgeon. Not in 1890, and even in 2024 it'd be touch and go with modern emergency trauma packs.

This is a mortal wound.

Now, if you slow it down, and they're bleeding out over the course of the ride, that's entirely feasible. You'll probably want to read up on the exact stages of hypovolemic shock, keep in mind that the stages do transition from one into the next. And, keep in mind that, “slipping in and out of consciousness,” is basically the end. At that point they're about to die. Immediate surgical attention could still save their life, but they need a hospital. This is beyond the scope of what a back alley clinic could reasonably deal with.

I know I didn't address it earlier, but, “where,” could be pretty much wherever. So long as it didn't sever an artery, because at that point they would be dead. Arterial nicks could result in serious bleeding over time. Really, any serious, persistent blood loss that refuses to clot could create a situation like this. Deep tissue penetration, particularly when it damages internal organs, can be pretty nasty, and surprisingly hard to stop a bleed. If someone is hemorrhaging internally, that's going to require surgical attention to keep them alive, and any effort to stop the bleed will really be wasted effort (because they'll continue bleeding into the chest cavity), though, unless your characters have a pretty solid grasp of anatomy, they're unlikely to know that.

The real issue here, from a practical application, is just the, “swooping in at the last minute.” If you're really coming in at the last minute, you've got a minute to make peace with their death, and move on. If you get there sooner, you have more of a scene. You have more options to spool out the drama, and subvert expectations.

Consider, alternately: Your character comes in to disrupt the assassin, and the pair make their escape. While escaping, the character who's been injured discovers they're bleeding. Leading their rescuer to realize that the situation is much worse than they initially thought, and having to change route to a hospital, while the injured character starts to become less coherent.

In this alternative, you can carefully track how quickly the character is bleeding out, so that they're getting into the hospital right around the time it's starting to become touch and go. With a real possibility that they'll die, either before or during surgery. (Also, with added stress that now your character needs to keep them safe in a public space, while that assassin is still on the loose, and they can't move the injured character to someplace more secure.)

So, you've got options, and now you've got a math problem you can play with to figure out how quickly your characters will expire after you poke new holes in them.

-Starke

This blog is supported through Patreon. Patrons get access to new posts three days early, and direct access to us through Discord. If you’re already a Patron, thank you. If you’d like to support us, please consider becoming a Patron.

[walkawaytall]

I really wish there was more interest in how to handle ADHD other than just addressing the symptoms that affect the people around us.

Like, the best pharmaceutical treatment we have right now is stimulants, and I agree that being on stimulants 24 hours a day, 365 days a year is probably not good for your body. Hell, I’m on a less-than-ideal dose of my medication from a concentration perspective because the ideal dose had my resting heart rate sitting at a cool 115BPM. I know taking med holidays is important. I know all of this.

But because ADHD isn’t just an attention problem (or may not actually be an attention problem at all at its core), it sucks that the only time period medical professionals seem to be concerned about treating are the “important” times: the length of a school or workday. Forget the fact that ADHD affects executive function, forget the fact that people with ADHD often experience chronic and unending anxiety and/or depression as a result of the ADHD, forget that there are important times that have nothing to do with an 8-hour school or work day, forget the rejection sensitivity dysphoria, the sensory issues that make things like clothing, food, and group situations a nightmare to try to navigate, the household stuff that has to be taken care of outside of the 8-hour school or work day. It feels like none of that matters because it doesn’t affect a group of fifteen or more people.

On top of ADHD, I have been plagued with anxiety-related issues for the majority of my life. I likely have a form of OCD and I have a history with a restrictive eating disorder; both of those conditions are very closely associated with high levels of anxiety. I’ve been on anxiety medications before. I was first given an as-needed medication that took the edge off but also made everything feel a little fuzzy, like there was a pane of glass between me and the rest of the world; I was put on an SSRI that somehow made my OCD-related intrusive thoughts about 50x worse than usual and had me wondering at one point if I should be hospitalized; and I’m currently on buspirone, which is doing what it’s supposed to do without the side effects of the others thankfully. But nothing, and I mean nothing, has reduced my anxiety as much as my ADHD medication.

Two hours after my first stimulant dosage, I just suddenly didn’t feel on-edge any more. I estimate that being on ADHD medication has reduced my anxiety by about 70% (buspirone’s for the other 30%). I started taking it in the summer of 2020 and I remember, in 2021, when I saw my boss in person for the first time since lockdown, he remarked on how much more confident I seemed, how I was more likely to speak up in meetings, etc. And I was like…yeah, man, it’s a wonder what not feeling anxious every second of every day will do for someone.

ADHD affects so much more of my life than just attention and anxiety, too. I have sensory issues with mine, which is pretty common, and they make eating — an already sometimes-complicated task due to the ED history — difficult at times because, while I can eat foods that I don’t particularly like, if something is what I call “the bad texture”, I will gag no matter how hard I work to overcome it (believe me, I’ve tried). And my brain sometimes decides that foods that were previously fine are now “the bad texture” and they may or may not shift back to being okay eventually; I don’t know.

The sensory issues affect me socially. My therapist and I have recently come to the conclusion that I’m probably not actually an introvert, but if I’m around larger groups, that means noise and movement and probably being touched, and too much of that causes my brain to either freak out or shut down. I used to always say, “I love people, but when I’m done, I’m done.” And that was likely because the overstimulation was building and building in the background, and at a certain point, my brain would just be like, “We gotta get outta here.” I was Queen of Irish Goodbyes for a very long time because of this.

And the executive dysfunction affects…well..everything? Not just work, not just school (but also those because if my environment is chaotic, my brain feels chaotic, and it is difficult to maintain a non-chaotic environment if you keep getting stuck on order of operations when picking up a room).

I’m not saying that I want to be on longer-lasting stimulants or that I want to be on the higher dose that I know helps my concentration more, cardiovascular system by damned. What I’m saying is, I wish treatment research had been more holistic rather than just figuring out what would give teachers and managers an easier time despite what the person with ADHD might be dealing with as soon as their meds wear off.

Maybe current research is working on it; I don’t know. I just know that, the older I get, the more frustrated I am with my brain and the more apparent the deficiencies I used to be able to counteract with pre-chronic-illness energy and crushing perfectionism become, and I wish there was an answer to this that actually helped me most of the time rather than forcing me to pick which parts of my day/week is “important” and making sure I’m medicated for those parts.

[hitsdifferents]

if u don’t mind me asking what stimulant are u on? my psych wants to talk about medicating me for my adhd next time i see her but im so nervous about stimulants making my anxiety worse…… what is ur experience with stimulants?

hiiii - no i don’t mind at all i’m super open and willing to talk about any of this stuff. but i will say that these meds affect everyone differently so please listen to your doctor and not me bc i am not a professional! this is just my experience, etc etc. BUT that being said — i started on adderall and it made me clench my jaw to the point i was in constant pain and literally tearing my tongue and mouth open and it made it impossible to eat. (worth noting that i clench my jaw anyway but adderall just skyrocketed it) but it was a miracle in terms of my mental health, focus and ability to function. but i couldn’t take the side effects so we switched me over to focalin and while im terrible at taking it (learning my lesson today though and gonna try to remember to take it regularly bc it’s amazing) focalin definitely gives me a bit of the stimulant jitters like my heart rate goes up and im a bit shaky but it doesn’t make my anxiety worse. it helps me hone in and focus which kind of in turn helps my anxiety because my thoughts aren’t as all over the place if that makes sense!

tldr: side effects are different for everyone and can be a bit much but the right dose/med can be miraculous and change the game if you have issues with adhd or executive dysfunction.

i hope this was helpful? any questions please ask and i’ll clarify anything <3

[scuttling-void]

I'm just posting this to vent about something not tes related in the tags.......

[empress-simps]

Oh Dear Diary

▪︎Featuring: Fushiguro Megumi from Jujutsu Kaisen

▪︎Pronouns: they/them [Gn!reader]

▪︎Synopsis: While battling a special grade curse, you didn't expect for your plans with megumi to be put on hold— for the next life.

▪︎Genre: Angst

▪︎Warnings: Character death

note: I HAVE HAIKYUU FICS COMIN BUT I NEED TO WRITE THIS AAAA (THIS IS INSPIRED BY A SONG I HEARD ON TIKTOK and the edits of megumi and yuji tho I made it a x reader cuz I SIMP) this is also supposed to be short but i got carried away woop-

》 Main Masterlist

》 Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist

Oh dear diary, I met a boy.

Taking down this special grade curse is a pain in the ass, you were already injured and the hits you were able to land seems to have little to no effect at the creature.

You cursed as you looked around, the other first years are also occupied so you couldn't ask them to help you. And the fact that there's no back up.. This feels like a suicide mission.

The curse swung at you with full force making you fly against the walls. You gasped, trying to gulp in air as your insides sear with pain. The impact was strong and you can feel your wounds getting worse. At this point, you were out of commision and can't fight anymore.

"Y/N!"

You heard the distant shout of Yuji as he rushes to help you. He sceunched his brows as he inspects your severely injured state while Nobara tries to keep the curse busy. You feel a familiar gaze lingered at you with worry, of course you couldn't help but stare at him. He was your whole world after all.

He made my dull heart light up in joy.

Everytime you spent together felt like you were on cloud nine. Those blissful memories are forever engraved in your mind. From the way his touches lingered on your body that sends shivers down your spine, and to the way his shy smile would present itself when you both are the only ones around. Time seems to slow down when you're with him. He was your home.

"I love you."

"I love you more, Megumi." You mumbled, tracing his face as the both of you basked in the sunshine, as he was about to protest, you silenced him with a kiss.

"Stay with me Y/n!" Yuji yelled, trying to apply pressure to the deep wound on your side. You patted his cheek as you stared at him, "I'll be fine Yuji.." you meekly said and started to cough out blood, splattering it onto the concrete.

Megumi finally finished the other curses that he's been fighting and looked at you both as he assesed the situation. "I need you here!" He called out to Yuji as he started to advance to the curse that rendered you immobile.

Anger and anxiety was all he felt as he continued to fight the special grade curse with Yuji and Nobara beside him as you watched from the sidelines. This shouldn't be happening, they weren't supposed to be here, this all feels eerily familiar with what happened to Yuji when he died.

A sad smile went it's way on your face, you knew at this rate that it will be impossible to flee and get medical attention. You stared at him, trying to retain his features in your mind as your memories with him filled your head, all the good and bad ones.

Oh dear diary, we fell apart.

"We prohibit you from seeing Fushiguro Megumi again."

The sentence weighed heavily against your shoulders as you stared at the elders of your clan. You wanted to retaliate and defy them but you couldn't do much, you were just a kid in a tradionalist clan. Who would take you seriously? You need to prove yourself first.

"May I ask why?"

One of them scoffed, clearly displeased with your question as the other one cleared their throat "He had cut ties with the Zenin clan. We can no longer benefit from him." They announced, you felt anger slowly rising in you as your elder brother looked at you with worry. You can feel your parent's warning glares from the sidelines, silently telling you not to do anything rash and scandalous.

"Therefore we arranged a marriage with Kamo Noritoshi, the heir of Kamo Clan." Your father announced.

The sentence made you want to pass out. No, you didn't want this. You ony want to be with Megumi.

If only the both of you were normal kids. Not worrying of you're gonna live to see another day and to battle strong opponents.

You kept your head down, hair covering the emotions etched on your face, almost acting like a shield to hide your vulnerability to the nasty people around you.

"And if we ever get a word that the two of you are still acting foolishly, expect something to come in your way." The head of your clan announced, standing up and leaving along with the others. Your brother hesitating to leave you behind but being forced to do so.

Eversince that day, no matter how hard you try to approach your former lover he seem to avoid you. It turns out, they tormented him to leave you alone.

It made you furious and left the clan which caused a major uproar.

"You have contributed nothing but shame on this clan. Pathetic." one of the elders said with a menacing glint on their eyes.

You ignored them and proceeded to walk out of your old life and start anew.

With your love.

You were brought back to reality when you saw them exorcise the curse succesfully. You smiled as tears fell from your eyes.

"Y/n! Don't worry, we'll bring you to the nearest hospital and you'll be better!" Megumi yelled as he cradled your body in his lap. You smiled and shook your head. His eyes were filled with unshed tears, trying to deny what's going on as he shaked his head.

"I can't loose you. We promised that we'll live happily right?" He whispers, tucking the stray hairs that frame your face.

It seems that you'll just fulfill it in the next life.

You grabbed his hand along with your blood coated one, you gave him a squeeze. Sending a message through your eyes.

I'll wait. Don't worry.

Megumi's cries were the last thing you heard before closing your eyes. You hope that someday you were able to live a peaceful life alongside him.

Welcome to the life of, L/n Y/n.

[pi-cat000]

BNHA: Kakashi dimension hops crossover (6)

Summary: Kakashi gets dumbed into the My Hero Academia universe through random plot devise.

Characters:  Kakashi Hatake

Fandoms: My Hero Academia and Naruto

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence/injury

START  / PREV / NEXT 

As predicted, the day following the seal’s application is miserable. His chest is tight with almost anxiety, pins and needles run up and down his arms making his skin itch, and he is increasingly lethargic. All symptoms of a chakra imbalance and to be expected when one’s normal chakra replacement rate was thrown out. The sensations would pass once his body adjusted as they had with his sharingan.

He is eating three square meals a day, doing the bare minimum when it came to exercise routines and avoiding excess chakra use. It had been literal years since he had had this much bed rest. If he were ever going to slap a chakra collecting seal on himself, this was a perfect time. Okay, so maybe he should have steadily increased the chakra drain over the course of a few weeks for a smoother adjustment period. Hindsight and all that.

What mattered was that he would be fine, and he just had to wait it out. Bright side? No one had commented on the seal yet. Oh, he has definitely noticed serval people throwing the odd confused frown at his shoulder, but that was as far as anyone had gone in acknowledging it. His oh so clever strategy of acting like nothing was wrong worked so much better when he wasn’t surrounded by other shinobi and medic-nin.

“Your blood pressure is still too high. Are you sure you haven’t been experiencing any additional fatigue or other symptoms? Is something about the hospital causing additional stress? If there is something wrong, we should work on strategies to fix the problem.”

Well… it worked on everyone who wasn’t Wada. The man was irritatingly persistent in his doctoring. Apparently, the pressure of adjusting to an increased chakra drain wasn’t doing his body any favours.

��Maybe it’s a part of my quirk. High regeneration. High blood pressure.” Kakashi shrugs loosely not bothering to look up from HEROES and HEROINES May Issue. Unlike his previous reading material, people gave him odd looks when they saw him reading these magazines which immediately upped their entertainment value 100-fold.

Wada undoes the compression sleeve he had been using to measure Kakashi’s blood pressure, lecturing as he goes, “From what I can tell your cells produce more energy-rich molecules, ATP, NADH, then is typical, increasing cellular functions. Where your cells are getting the energy to produce these molecules, I have no idea seeing as you eat about the same amount as any baseline human. What I can safely say is that it should not influence your blood pressure. If anything, your blood pressure should be a bit lower than average. Now don’t dodge the question.”

He pauses, waiting for Kakashi to cave and suddenly confess. Kakashi, an old hat at dodging medical questions, continues reading unperturbed.

“I’ve been at this for over 30 years. An attack like the one you suffered is understandably traumatic, not to mention the stress of severe amnesia. I’m sure, whatever is bothering you, I’ve heard it before.”

Kakashi very much doubts that. “I feel fine.”

Wada huffs, unconvinced, “Young men. You all think that admitting you have a problem is a sign of weakness. High blood pressure can damage your heart and lead to problems  later in life so finding the cause is important.” Good thing a shinobi life spans tended to max out around 30. The odds of him making it to an age where he’d have to worry about the long-term effects of anything were pretty low. He doesn’t voice this opinion, continuing to read.

Wada continues talking with greater gusto, “No matter, I’ll prescribe you something for stress hopefully that’ll help with your blood pressure. However, this is no replacement for healthy habits both physical and mental. You should consider professional therapy.”

Kakashi snorts. Yeah, that sounds about right.

“Oh, you think that’s funny do you,” Wada makes to grab HEROES and HEROIENS and he lets the doctor pull the magazine free from his hand. It gives him a good view of the man’s irate expression.

“No, of course not.” Kakashi attempts to placate and gets a light smack over the head with said magazine for his troubles.

“There is no shame in pursuing a healthy mind!”

“Weren’t we going to test my quirk today?” He complains to derail the current line of questioning.

“I have half a mind to put it off and have you rest another week,” is threatened before Wada’s stern expression relaxes, “Lucky for you, I’ve booked you into serval tests that can’t be rescheduled.”

Kakashi breaths out dramatically. He thinks Wada might have made a good medic-nin if he had lived in Konoha. Sure, he is a little too trusting, but he was also not above pestering his patients into taking better care of themselves. Sakura would approve.

The doctor, with the assistance of an attending nurse he hadn’t bothered to learn the name of, helps Kakashi out of his bed and into a wheelchair, ignoring his protests about his leg being all but healed.

“You’re to avoid putting weight on it until you start physical therapy,” Wada snaps at his continued complaints, “You’ll need to be careful, extended bed rest and surgery can leave your muscles weakened. Also, leave that magazine behind. You’re doing eye tests when do you think you’ll have time to read!”

Kakashi doesn’t push the matter further, resigning himself to being wheeled down the hospital halls like the invalid he was pretending to be. It is not like Wada knew about his frequent excursions to the roof or the fact that he has been running through strengthening exercises on his own time for several weeks now.  Best he keeps that information to himself.

Partway down the hall, he pulls out HEROES and HEROIENS from where he had slipped it into his shirt, enjoying Wada’s exasperated expression. Of course, he stops reading when the doctor threatens to start lecturing again. The man could definitely talk when given the chance.

Wada and the nurse take wheel him to a set of double-door elevators which take them down several floors below the ground level. The hallway they exit of a mirror of every other hospital hallway. Grey and white walls, pale blue lino floor and bright fluorescent overhead lights. The only difference is that this hallway is lined with heavy-looking metal doors. From snooping through patient files, he knows that all quirk tests are carried out in specially designated underground ‘safety rooms.’ That doesn't make him any more thrilled about being several stories underground. It cut down on his escape roots.

“These are some of the more secure recovery wards in the hospital,” Wada explains as their little group stops at a small reception desk where the doctor taps away at a computer screen, “they’re mostly for treating patients with unstable quirks.” Kakashi maintains a neutral expression, accepting the explanation.

Wada wheels him up to a steel door, swiping his ID card which also doubled as a key to many areas of the hospital. The heavy door is automated and slides open. A lot of the doors in the hospital operate this way and always made sneaking around slightly more troublesome.

Inside walls and floor are plain white and there is an odd number of tables and chairs pushed to one side out of the way. Everything stinks of disinfectant. On the far wall is a single solitary painting of a tree in a field, the only splash of colour in an otherwise depressingly sparse room. A poor attempt at living up the space. The opposite wall sports a rectangular, reflective surface which was probably some sort of observation booth. Well, if being underground hadn’t put him on edge, this obvious confinement room definitely did the job. Kakashi eyes the space. Worse comes to worst, he could use the kamui and remove the adjoining hallway wall then climb his way out through the elevator shaft. There are only two other people in the room with him and one woman at the reception desk, all were most likely unenhanced with quirks unsuited to combat, easily removed.  He doesn’t let his body language reflect his unease. He is just a little on edge because the new seal is messing with his body’s natural homeostasis. If this is a trap there would have been other signs of deception before now.

“Yes, I know it might seem like a whole lot of fuss just to run through a few flashcards,” Wada comments, oblivious to Kakashi’s poor mood. He waves to his assisting nurse who wheels over and lowers one of the metallic tables so Kakashi doesn’t have to move from his wheelchair. “But it’s a standard safety procedure when an unknown quirk is involved. Trust me, this is a lot easier than travelling to an external testing range.”

Wada stops to give Kakashi a once over, frowning, “How much do you know about your quirk sub-type?”

Kakashi shrugs, “Nothing much.”

“Ah,” The doctor’s frown grows, and he grimaces, “Of course you don’t.” A sigh.

“Typically, ocular quirks will act to enhanced sight in some way or improve base level memorisation and recall ability. It is also common to have a replicating function, allowing the user to produce some sort of copy of things they see. In rarer cases, ocular quirks result in precognitive abilities.” Wada explanation falters, “They can also have a line-of-sight emitter effect, such as laser vision, optical blasts, a few instances of mind control and other mental effects. These can also be incredibly dangerous if the user isn’t in control. There have even been instances where whole buildings have been levelled.”

“I see.”  He supposes Wada's irritation at this private 'quirk' testing made a bit more sense. A doctor faced with an unknown and possibly dangerous ability would be annoyed if said patient went about experimenting without taking safety precautions.

“I should have checked whether you knew the dangers instead of just assuming. Apologies. That is my own error.”

He peers at Kakashi, almost guilty now, “and you don’t have a phone either so there would have been no way for you to research quirks yourself.”

“Ah,” Kakashi rubs the back of his head not likening how torn up the other man seems to be seeing as Kakashi had ever been in any real danger. “Don’t worry about it,” he reassures.  

His reassurances land flat, the doctor still frowning, “I’ll see if I can get you access to the internet somehow.”

Privately, Kakashi adds 'research' to the list of functions ‘phones’ apparently provided and 'internet' to his growing list of terms to investigate.

Wada sighs again. “Regardless, let’s get these tests done first.” He places a thick folder labelled National Standard for Registration: Kit Type 3 alongside one of those portable keyboard-less computers the doctors tended to carry around.  “Hold on, been a while since I’ve done one of these. Need to find the rights files. Ah, here we go. First, these rooms are monitored, and all tests are recorded. The data collected is confidential, accessible only to the patient and physician unless doing so causes the patent harm. Information regarding quirk function and use is shared with the Registry Office. You have a right to stop testing at any point. You got that?”

Kakashi grunts, his already poor mood souring further. He is not sure he wants the hospital - or anyone - keeping records of anything sharingan related.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Wada continues unperturbed, a testament to his serval weeks of trying to doctor Kakashi, “remember to let me know if you’re experiencing any discomfort. Don’t want you busting anymore blood vessels.

Kakashi lets out a tired breath, “Sure.” The sooner they left this room the better.

“We’ll test memory and vision first to compare to your baseline, then we’ll run through the replication and precognitive tests just in case.”

The nurse, who had been on the opposite side of the room waves, “All ready over here.” There is now a large poster with letters of varying sizes hung on the wall. He recognises the chart from his previous eye tests.

“Okay, let’s start with just uncovering it. Make sure you’re looking away from me as a precaution.”

Kakashi resists rolling his non- sharingan eye at the obvious instruction, shifting his attention to the poster on the wall. He flips his padded eyepatch up with his index finger so it partially rests on his forehead. All the letters, no matter the size, immediately snap into sharp focus. Nothing spontaneously combusts under his gaze. When he glances at the painting of the tree, he can now see a lack of brush texture, suggesting that it wasn’t a painting but a print of some sort. With that useless information now forever etched into his memory, he turns back to examine at Wada.

The sharingan picks out all the wrinkles and pores lining the older face. It focuses in on minuscule muscle movements as the man’s expression shifts from professional and accommodating to curious. The doctor’s fingers twitch ever so slightly over his computer. Most likely an unconscious habit. The man’s breath is slightly uneven like his chest can’t smoothly expand, suggesting some sort of lung problem. A past smoking habit perhaps? Nothing threatening is revealed.

“Doctor.” Kakashi prompts when Wada spends a little too long staring back at him. The sharingun did have a weak hypnotic effect, encouraging extended eye contact to help catch targets in genjutsu. Kakashi rarely uncovered his eye in the presence of civilians so he doesn’t know if the effect is more pronounced or if Wada is just curious.

Wada blinks, “Well…I certainly see where the ‘wheel’ description comes from.” He spends a second more staring then turns to start writing notes and tapping away at his computer screen. “I wonder if those spinning tomoe are purely cosmetic or if they have some other function because they are certainly fascinating to look at. There is also faint bioluminescence to the eye which is a common feature of ocular quirks…”

Honestly, the blatant eye contact is weird. Even his closest allies tended to avoid looking at his sharingan out of habit - expect for Naruto who was an outlier in almost everything - for understandable reasons. He thinks the people here would also exercise caution if an ocular abilities included mind control or exploding a person through eye contact. But no, Wada just goes right ahead and stares. A few seconds later and the unnamed nurse is also looking curiously at his eye. … …

Aside from redoing a standard eye exam, Kakashi runs through a marathon of flashcards to test both his memory and then precognitive abilities. The tests are done with lights on then in the dark and Kakashi is given a perfect 20/20 and an enhancement score of ‘15 grades above average’ for both. There are also several pages worth of words and numbers in progressively complex arrangements to test his information retention. Of course, everything is easily remembered with the sharingun active.

“Well, it seems to give general across the board vision enhancement alongside perfect recall and retention,” Wada finally concludes as he records all Kakashi’s results, “Of course, we’ll have to re-test retention in a few days so see if the information degrades over an extended period and we don’t know whether your quirk effects your long distance eyesight, but, for now, this appears to be all. The link between your quirked eye and the regenerative side-effect is still unknown. Odd that we couldn’t trigger any ‘copy’ function considering the quirks name though  ‘copy’ could also be a reference to memorisation.  If any other features do reveal themselves make sure you alert a medical professional.”

… …

Kakashi despises the process of getting an MRI with a heated passion. He hates having to lie prone in a loud confined space. It is the height of discomfort, making him tense up and clench his jaw. It is only the fact that Kakashi had researched and mentally prepared himself for the experience that stops him from accidentally snapping someone’s neck.

“We’ll have the results back in a few days,” Wada informs once the trying ordeal is over with, “From there we’ll update the Registry so you’re properly in the system. Speaking of which, have you made any progress on remembering a surname? I need something for the forms.”

“Hatake,” he grunts, too irritated to bother evading - he just wants to return to his room and wait out the side effects of his seal in peace- the question like he had every other time the man asked, “I think I prefer Kakashi though.”

It wasn’t like the name meant anything here and, who knows, maybe someone would come looking for him. This way they would have a trail to follow.

NEXT

[whumper-boi]

As someone who has this shit myself, let me bring in a fun little whump:

✨Tachycardic whumpees✨

Tachycardia, also known as excessively fast heart rate, is a wonderful thing to add into your whump.

So basically, It’s having in irregularly fast heart rate, that is disproportionate to your age, body size, and level of activity.

(Example, myself, who works out pretty regularly, has a pretty good build, and is a teen, I should have a resting heart rate from 60-100, however mine is generally somewhere around 90-125 on average.)

Causes: anemia, too much caffeine, too much alcohol, exercise (its normal for your heart rate to speed up, but when it’s not slowing down it’s a problem) , fever, blood pressure, lack of electrolytes, medication side effects, hyperthyroidism, smoking, sudden stress, stimulants,

Or in some cases none of the above! Mine comes from my anxiety, while some may not even have a notable cause, so you have a lot to work with 🤠

Anyways, the shit that comes with it-

Random feelings of wanting to vomit

Really bad chest pain

Feeling like passing out

It gets harder to breath

Feeling like your heart is literally breaking your chest

This shit wakes me out of my sleep and I can’t fall back asleep

Makes it harder to sleep

Fainting

And it just plain stresses you out too

So ✨imagine✨

-Whumpee wakes up to their heart beating out of their chest, tossing and turning only makes it worse

-Whumpee passing out because it was too much, or they moved too quickly

-Alternatively, Whumper figuring out and making whumpee run until they can no longer breath/pass out

-Caretaker holding whumpee, asking them to take deep breaths because the fast rate of their heart was causing them to hyperventilate

-Caretaker having to take whumpee’s caffeine because it’s going to make things worse and no, begging won’t help

-Whumpee throws up because the rate of their heart, making their chest heave and put them in more pain

-Whumpee not being able to fall asleep, no matter how hard they try

-Whumpee having nightmares, and the fast heart rate from the nightmare plus this makes it hell

-Whumper gives whumpee too much caffeine/adrenaline shot, and the heart goes to fast and ‘locks up’ (it is a muscle after all) sending whumpee into cardiac arrest

-Whumpee trying to remain calm, but the pain in their chest makes them want to cry

-Whumpee has to temporarily quit their athletic team because it’s gotten too bad, but they’re miserable now because of it

Just- tachycardic whumpees

[littlespaceporgs]

Omg some Rex fluff?? No 60 from prompt list one, “But I want to hear you sing.” Can you imagine Rex saying that?? So cute my heart 🥺🥺

A/N: Welp I had fun writing this, I’ve written it as a part ii to The Captain and The Medic - which if you click, it’ll take you to part i, but as I usually do, it can also be read independently!

The Captain and The Medic - Part ii

Word Count: 1.9k Pairing: Captain Rex x Reader Summary: You got reassigned as the new 212th medic, and during a new campaign, Rex gets injured. Chaos and stress ensues. Partly because of the 3 jedi who can’t seem to sit still.

Tags :DDD : @peacelandbread @valkyrieofthehighfae @mcu-padawan @catsnkooks @littlevodika @cherrykenobi @hounding-around @lesqui @captainrexstan

Medics were becoming few and far between as the war dragged out, even the Jedi healers were short-handed. It was for this reason that you were reassigned after a year and a half of serving with the 501st. Admittedly, you weren’t far, only going to the 212th.

You already knew a fair few members among the ranks, having to handle General Kenobi’s penchant for also never seeing a medic, something that the bastard well-respected Jedi Master had regretfully passed on down his lineage. You’d seen Waxer and Boil, when they returned with a secret small creature of some kind that needed medical attention, and you had a bone knitter on hand for Cody, who still had not shaken the habit of punching kriffing droids – which you had pleaded him to stop doing, if not for his own sake for yours, because using one of them was a rather tedious task.

It made for good entertainment, and it kept you busy, but it just didn’t compare to seeing Rex every day.

So when you were placed on the on the same campaign, excitement flooded through you, in the form of pure elation, drowning out the weariness of the amount of injuries that came with the news of a new campaign. That brings you to now, where you were waiting not so patiently with Cody and General Kenobi, expecting an arrival shortly from the 501st. Anakin Skywalker was the first off the ship immediately heading for Kenobi, with Ahsoka following half a step behind him. Ahsoka grinned widely and waved at you, and you let out a laugh at the girl’s antics. Giving a questioning glance to her Master, which he responded with a nod, she suddenly burst into a run, heading straight for you. You let out a low grunt when she smacked into you, and squeezed tightly. When Cody snickered, you silenced him with a quick glare.

“Hello, Commander Tano.”

“Hey Doc!”

General Skywalker nodded at you from where he stood with Kenobi, and pulling away from Ahsoka, you sent them both a curious glance.

“You lot haven’t been causing too much trouble for Kix while I’ve been gone?”

“Oh come on, Doc, we would never.” A new voice answered, unfiltered by the helmet he usually wore. You grinned and spun back around, to see your Captain stepping off the ramp, grinning all the while. You laughed and shot into his arms, smiling when he kissed your temple. Without hesitation, you took his face in your hands and kissed him hard. He grinned against your lips, technically neither of you were on duty yet. Your heart swelled in that moment, even seconds together – while not even close to being enough – after a few weeks made you almost blissful. He pulled away for a second, and tapped a finger on your wrist guard.

“Good to see you’ve replaced our stripes already.” He gestured to the newer, thick yellow line that was now painted next to the two blue, already starting to chip away after weeks of working.

“Oh please.” You rolled your eyes and gently slapped his arm, you wanted to catch up more, fill him in on the past few days, but Skywalker interrupted the two of you.

“Alright lovebirds, sorry doc, but I need to steal my Captain away, you can have him back when this is over and done with.” You laughed, but leant up and pressed a kiss on his cheek before he started in the same direction as the General’s and Commander’s.

“Just make sure you return him to me in one piece please? ” Cody had whacked him on the shoulder then, and you grinned harder. “Oh, and Cody?” The Commander spun and looked at you, and took in your folded arms and disgruntled expression. “Do not punch any droids today, otherwise I can and will amputate your arm.” The poor man looked thoroughly disturbed as Ahsoka broke out with a bright grin and elbowed them both, and Rex spun and gave you a thumbs up, mid-laugh. He mouthed an ‘I love you’ and begun to follow after Kenobi and Skywalker, Cody and Ahsoka still trying to tease him. You watched as he shoved them back, as they disappeared down a corridor and out of sight. Despite the light-hearted nature of the interaction, you couldn’t shake the feeling that today would go badly.

 Your heart was racing when he was brought in. There was blood spilling from a gash on his forehead, and you could see when his chest plate moved with his breathing, it wasn’t quite right, rising in two separate motions. It had stopped you from moving, eyes staring after him as Kix started his work. Your muscles were begging you to let you run to him, to help Kix in anyway you could, despite knowing that he was a very capable medic, and no further harm would come to him here.

Your patient, who when you turned around was giving you an almost amused smirk under all the dirt that was caked on him, cleared his throat.

“You know, you could just go and help him, I’ll be fine.” You made a noise half-way between a sigh and a groan, before shoving your anxieties away. He’ll be fine. You had worse problems to deal with, like preventing a dumbass wise Jedi that didn’t know what taking care of himself first was from escaping the medbay.

“And leave you to try and escape again? No chance, General.” He flinched gently as you prodded his ribs, which you determined were likely broken on account of Grievous hitting him with a well-aimed kick. Kenobi feigned a confused look.

“I would nev-” You rolled your eyes before he cut himself off with a groan as you pressed against another rib.

“Yes, you would. You’re already going to be here for the night, don’t force me to make it two,” his smirk flattened as he gave you a blank look. “If I had half a mind, I would keep you here for a week, considering I’ve now had to deal with yours, your padawan’s and your padawan’s padawan bad habits of not coming to or just plain trying to escape the medbay!”

Hours later, once the sun had set, you’d finally gotten the stubborn Jedi to remain in place. Kix was around the medbay somewhere, and almost everyone in here was silent, in a dead sleep after a hard-fought battle. You’d started singing a lullaby in mando’a under your breath, hoping that actively thinking about the lyrics would keep you awake, even as your hands were trembling slightly and your feet ached. You wouldn’t have to stay in the medbay too much longer, Kix would wake up soon and take over the rest of the night shift, as all there is left to do in these hours is monitor heart rates and make sure those who were awake weren’t in pain.

You stopped by Rex’s side, looking up at the monitor, all the while you kept singing quietly. You looked down to your datapad to enter the reading, and noticed that the beeping of the machine had increased. Sure enough, when you looked again, his heart rate was much higher than what it had been earlier, on instinct you felt your own skyrocket at the thought of something being wrong.  You immediately stopped singing and turned to look at his face, where his nose was scrunched, and you could see the movements of his eye beneath his eyelids.

“Rex?”

And one of his eyes cracked open slightly, you sighed heavily in relief. He’s awake.

His mouth pulled into a soft smile to mirror your face, both of his eyes trying to blink the tiredness away. Your eyes began to water as you took a seat beside his bed, and took one of his hands in your own. Slowly, he squeezed back.

“Hey, cyar’ika.” His voice was gravelly and thick with sleep, but it was a good sign that he could recognise you and speak at all.

“Hello, my love,” You said, brushing your hand against his cheek, and letting out a quiet, airy laugh when he blinked slowly and leant heavily into your hand. He was quite possibly still feeling the effects of the pain medication he had been put on hours ago. You noticed his eyes started flicking around the medbay, darting from patient to patient. “Can you tell me what the date is and then what happened?”

Still blinking slowly, one hand rubbed his face, and the other squeezed yours again. He spoke the correct date and then began rattling off details about the mission, from Commander Tano running ahead and Skywalker nearly losing his mind at the teenager, all the way up until he very nearly got blown up. You took in a deep breath when he finished his recount, all his memories were intact.

You raised his hand to your lips and pressed a kiss across his knuckles. Tiredly smiling at you, he reached up and tucked a hair behind your ear. The relief you felt was palpable as he seemed to be mostly there. You stood from the chair, untangling his hands from your hair, and checking the box on the datapad, signifying no signs of serious damage. You stared at his face once more, eyeing the cut on his temple and just taking in all the details.

“Alright, Rex, get some more rest in please. You’re likely going to be cleared tomorrow, so you’re going to need to be in good shape.” He groaned and grabbed your hand again, moving his thumb in small circles. Okay, maybe he was still on too many meds.

“Riddur, you need sleep, and I have more patients to see.” In an unusual show of emotion, he pouted.

“But I just want to hear you sing?” You flushed, knowing that he had most definitely heard you when you first walked over. You laughed softly, and brushed his cheek again.

“Is that what it’ll take for you to go back to sleep?” He spent a second thinking on it, before he nodded once, barely perceptible if you weren’t standing beside his head. Definitely still feeling the after-effects of the meds. You leant down and kissed him gently, stepping back before murmuring the soothing words in mando’a. He sighed and his eyes slid shut, as you walked away, allowing him to drift off, listening to the soft-spoken voice that sounded like honey and reminded him of a home that he had with only one person.

BONUS:

“No, you are not cleared!”

“I feel fine-”

“That means the pain meds are working! General Kenobi, three of your ribs are broken, and literally every other rib is bruised!”

“Doc, I’m sure Obi-wan is-”

“No, Skywalker, he is not! My medbay, my rules! And my rule is that he stays until he’s healed!”

“We outrank you, you know that right?”

“Not here, you don’t!”

“But-”

“Don’t you start, I could confine you here as well! Don’t think I didn’t see you injure your shoulder!”

“Kark, nope, Ahsoka, let’s go.”

“Anakin!”

[agirlandhermonster]

Starter for @rulesxunbroken

30 days. One full moon cycle. Okay, yes, more accurately put, it would be 29.5 days, but Samira wasn’t about to split hairs about a measly 12 hours when her own soul hung in the balance.

Just a few years ago, she would have said that there was no such things as curses and demons and horrifying other realms where life wasn’t really life, it was just survival until death. But now? Now she was in possession of an Eldritch horror all her own, complete with tentacles and a host of strange side effects that came with living in symbiosis with said creature.

The demoness that had tricked her into this particular situation had come to Samira in her hour of need, when the girl was mere hours from the other side, offering her her life back if only Samira would fulfill a small favour. Thanks to the amount of medications pumping through her system, the hospital’s attempt to help ease the pain and pressure of her failing organs, she’d seen the frightening horned woman as nothing more than a near-death hallucination.

What harm could indulging a hallucination do? And hell, if she were real, then Samira would live to see 30, all for the low cost of giving what she assumed would be another demon a place to stay for a bit.

But we all know how deals with the devil tend to go, and so they went.

30 days.

For the first time since that fateful deal, Samira had found herself in the company of the demoness who’d tricked her into hosting the monster she’d come to call Poppy, and the woman almost wished she were still enjoying the calming effects of a truly ridiculous amount of morphine pumping through her veins, as it might have made the meeting slightly less terrifying.

It’s about time you fulfill your end of the deal, my little horror.

The monster in Samira’s head seemed to cringe. She couldn’t see it, but she felt it. But when she opened her mouth to try and ask just what was going on, it was Poppy that spoke through her.

Already? Poppy’s voice was Samira’s voice, accompanied by a lilt, high and low, like an echo. Samira prodded Poppy inwardly for answers but the monster paid her no mind.

You’ve had your time, now it’s my turn. You know what to do, and I expect you to do so, lest you find yourself in a far more unpleasant situation than the one in which I found you.

Poppy’s anxiety raised Samira’s heart rate, and yet the woman was still ignored. Poppy nodded with Samira’s head. And just like that, the demoness vanished.

30 days, Poppy told Samira afterwards. In 30 days they needed to be in a very specific place. Poppy wouldn’t say more, not until Samira threatened to heave herself under a bus.

Poppy needed to be somewhere far north by the end of the current moon cycle, and it was going to result in the death of their host. Terrified beyond reason, Samira panicked. But what could she really do? Poppy had agreed to complete a task that they wouldn’t explain in return for passage from the Lower Realms to the Middle Realms and the acquiring of a host so that they could survive.

From the visions that Poppy had shown Samira over the years, the woman couldn’t blame them for not wanting to return, much less get sent somewhere worse.

Searching for a way out, Samira was determined. There must be something. A new host? Doubtful. And Samira couldn’t stomach the idea of dooming someone else to her same fate just to save herself. Besides that, she’d formed a bond with her monster, despite the uncomfortable nature of their meeting.

But there was only 30 days, Poppy argued, and Samira shrugged it. A month wasn’t so bad. Surely they could find someone with the sort of power they needed in that time?

Samira liked to call herself an optimist, Poppy liked to call her naïve.

Either way, travel was necessary, though not cheap. The first part of their trip north (all the while searching for some sort of strange power that could possibly help the both of them) was taken by bus, all the way up the eastern coast from Florida on.

Upon reaching the border of New Jersey, they followed the strings of rumours that led them to a town rumoured to have been touched by an odd magic. Some said it was a demon, some said there was a portal to another world.

Samira and Poppy couldn’t confirm either, but as they traveled, there was a certain note of..something in the air. Static maybe. Or magic?

Don’t get your hopes up, Poppy commented in Samira’s mind as they entered the town that seemed to be at the center of it all. Doesn’t look like anyone has lived here for awhile.

Samira shrugged, walking steadily towards where the air felt thickest.

“It’s worth a shot”, she responded aloud. “Obviously something happened here.”

The houses were nice enough, and Samira could see this was probably once a fairly nice suburban neighborhood. Nothing look broken exactly, but there were some things that didn’t seem to belong. A brand new house with a car in front that looked new but from fifty years ago. A streetlight with an odd grayish hue. Just little things, but odd nonetheless.

There was an empty lot with just a few wooden planks and concrete blocks, like someone had given up on building a house an hour into the process. Beside it was the house that caught Samira and Poppy’s attention however, giving off an energy that seemed to swirl, and Poppy swore that it was gleaming, though Samira brushed it off as a trick of the light.

The front door wasn’t locked. Even if it had been, Samira had been participating in the borderline illegal activity of urban exploration long enough to know how to pick a basic lock.

Stepping into the home was like stepping into a museum. Everything was dark and dusty and felt stuck in time, but the energy moved almost like a breeze as she walked through the house, seeking the source of the unusual sensation.

Careful, Poppy warned as Samira approached what she assumed was a cellar door. This feels similar to her energy.

Samira suppressed a shudder and pushed the door open, throwing caution to the wind as was her habit.

Down into the darkness, she pulled the flashlight from the side pocket of her backpack, always in easy reach. The first section of the basement was normal, but as she kept going, following the string of energy she swore she was starting to become visible, the beginnings of greenery began to creep over the walls.

“This must stretch under more than a few houses”, Samira muttered as the size of the basement mystified her. The hallway stopped abruptly, expanding into a circular area with doors heading off in several directions.

I don’t like this, Poppy asserted. This doesn’t feel right. We should go.

Samira flashed an irritated expression to the room at large. “Well I don’t like the idea of not going for any chance I’ve got at surviving to see my next birthday.”

Poppy sulked in Samira’s mind, the miniature tentacle that resided in her mouth full time, Poppy’s connection to the physical world, lashing anxiously against the inside of her cheek.

Turning in place, each door got a good examination. They appeared rather average, as much as a door in the oddly large basement of a house in a damned ghost town could be anyway.

“This one has a weird light. Are you seeing this too?” Samira asked aloud, gesturing to a door that shone shades of red and purple at the edges, just enough that it was only noticeable if one were looking for it.

The monster remained silent, so Samira pressed on. Stepping towards the door, she reached out for the doorknob. It was warm in her palm, like somebody had just been holding onto it.

The moment she opened it, the world went silent. There hadn’t been any real noise a second ago, but still Samira somehow felt as if there was not just an absence of sound. There was Silence. On the other side of the door was what probably served as a storeroom of some sort, if all the crates stacked one atop the other were any indication.

“..okay?” Underwhelmed and vaguely disheartened, Samira sighed and closed the no-longer-shimmering door. But when she turned around, the entire presence of the area had changed. Walls and floors and doors were still all where they were meant to be, but there was new life in the air, and the greenery wasn’t limp, but lush and thriving and seemed almost like it was reaching out for her.

“What the hell?”

[igirisuhito]

Title: Out of my mind Relationship(s): Kamukura Izuru/Naegi Makoto Rating: Teen Summary:  Naegi goes to confront Kamukura Izuru, based off their scene in dr3. For Kamuegi week Day 5: Scars/Future Foundation Trigger Warnings: Medical Trauma, Medical Abuse, Broken Bones, Dr0 References/Spoilers, PTSD

[Ao3 Link]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Future Foundation were kind enough to disclose all information that led to the Tragedy of Hope's Peak to its survivors. Naegi read through the files of the Hope Cultivation Project, the project that was being funded by the school's reserve course. The same event that led to its downfall. 

It was utterly petrifying to him. 

The fact that a talentless student would volunteer himself for such brutal experiments was unfathomable. He saw the logs of Hinata Hajime's descent into inhumanity, becoming a creature nobody could ever hope to perceive as a regular person. 

There were 3 surgeries in total, all additional operations were performed through electrical stimulus or injections of medication. The first one was a whole two days after Hinata had signed that contract, the aforementioned contract that had disappeared from the Biology building before it could have been recovered. Which was unfortunate, but they were already so lucky to have been able to obtain the Project's logs that nobody really cared about what had been lost. 

The first surgery was the one that scared Naegi the most. The severing of the connections between the prefrontal cortex and parts of the frontal lobe from the rest of the brain. Kirigiri had explained this to him simply, "They performed a leucotomy. You know what that is, right? A lobotomy?"

They'd learnt about it in highschool, surprisingly their years of education were the memories most easily recovered. Naegi never really paid attention to lessons in psychology. Perhaps he should have, as a knowledge in brain ablation somehow ended up being something he actually did need later on in life. 

The fact remained that this was the first step in inducing Kamukura's apathetic outlook towards life. This was where the despair began, the despair he wanted to reverse. But how can someone reverse the effects of permanent brain damage? It's impossible, right? 

Things seemed to only get worse the more he read. The thing Naegi hated most was how positive the post surgery notes were, as if what occurred was a miracle. 

The subject is responding well, his aggression has reduced and he has become more passive towards his doctors. The subject's anxiety seems to have been quelled and he has been dissociative and nonverbal. Fortunately, he is still able to use his vocal cords and form words, as evidenced by his reaction to pain stimulus.

He could only gag. The school Naegi admired so deeply was willing to do this to a human being? He couldn't force himself to imagine the student identification photo of Hinata bearing those same lifeless eyes of Kamukura. 

It was all so so fucked up. Enough to make him groan and slam his head down onto the desk, as if giving himself brain damage would fix Hinata's.

Naegi recalled Munakata placing a hand on his shoulder, interrupting the break he was taking from cross-examining the files. He had jumped on instinct from the sudden contact. Flushing in embarrassment at the fact someone has seen him act so childishly. 

Munakata hadn't seemed phased. He just looked over at the papers scattered on the desk, skimming, scanning. He spoke up in his rather gruff voice.

"They wanted you to read up on the destroyer of Hope’s Peak, right?" 

"Uh, yeah…" Sheepishly, Naegi nodded. "This guy had to be awfully messed up to volunteer for something like this."

With a loud click of his tongue, Munakata removed his hand from the boy's shoulder. He backed himself up to the table in which Naegi had been reading at, before lifting himself and sitting on the table. "No person would volunteer for this. He was manipulated by Hope's Peak and allowed despair to swallow him whole." 

Naegi sat up in response, awaiting elaboration from the Council President. 

"Hope's Peak obviously omitted the full details of what would happen to Hinata Hajime when he signed the contract." Crossing his arms over his chest, Munakata met Naegi's intense gaze with a sigh, sounding almost mad that Naegi couldn't read his thoughts. "Of course, most of the Future Foundation doesn't want you to think that. Hope's Peak academy was never the shining beacon of hope it pretended to be, it's platitudes were just worthless lies told to deceive."

"That's terrible!" Naegi cried, slamming one hand down on the table for emphasis. "Though, now that I think about it it makes a lot of sense that Hinata didn't know everything. But he still orchestrated the first Killing game, right? Why would he have done that?" 

"Actually Kamukura Izuru was framed by Enoshima Junko." Munakata sighed in a pompous manner that reminded him all too much of Togami. "Unfortunately, he woefully succumbed to despair, though it was indeed Enoshima who led him down that path. The sheer amount of murder he did go on to later commit proves that in reality he isn't redeemable."

"Framed…? So it wasnt Kamukura who orchestrated the first killing game?" 

"Of course not!" The older man hissed. "Do you seriously just believe anything anyone tells you?" 

Naegi's breathing hitched in fear as the other slammed his hand down onto the desk with much more intensity than Naegi had earlier. "N-no… I'm sorry…"

Munakata slid back off the table, causing it to groan beneath his weight. "You should be more careful, Naegi Makoto. It's purely luck that that blind trust hasn't gotten you killed yet."

Next thing he knew Munakata was gone with a loud slam of a door. God that guy was hot-headed. 

But he was wrong, about Kamukura, that is. 

For some reason that experience was all Naegi could think about as he looked at Kamukura's back. Stiff shoulders hidden beneath the black fabric of his uniform, dark hair billowing in the wind. He created such an eerie silhouette against the golden sunset in the background, beautiful, yet filling the other with a sense of trepidation and fear.

The man Naegi had spent the whole day searching for, of course he was in the last place he looked. He could almost sigh at how awful his luck could be sometimes. His feet ached from searching all around Hope's Peak, between all the different labs and even that freaky hidden room beneath the statue of the founder.

"Naegi Makoto. The Super High School Level Hope, also known as the former Super High School Level Good Luck." A monotone voice that sounded too close and too far away all at the same time suddenly broke the silence. "You've come on orders to kill me."

All that trepidation was causing Naegi's hands to shake from how tightly wound up he was. The sound of someone else's voice made him flinch. "H-huh?! You know?" 

"Of course I do." Kamukura spoke again, now tilting his head to the side to glance back at Naegi. "It's not that I'm omniscient, I just bear the talent of the Super High School Level Analyst."

It was strange to have his mind read before he even got the thought completely through. Naegi squashed that feeling down, opting to focus on the task at hand.

He cleared his throat, attempting to still his nerves. "If you knew this, why aren't you running?" 

"Hm?" Kamukura turned himself around, now offering his complete attention to Naegi. 

Naegi shivered under those piercing crimson eyes, they bore an even brighter colour than that of Ishimaru or Celeste's eyes. They seemed to target him and lock on like a rifle, loaded and ready to fire at a moment's notice. 

"Do you honestly believe that you can kill me?" 

The breath seemingly disappeared from Naegi's lungs. He drew his hand over his mouth to muffle the faint whimper that escaped his lips. Kamukura's aura was overwhelming, an aura of pure superiority and death. 

This whole situation reminded Naegi of his own execution. The pure despair coursing through his veins. The way Monokuma grinned at him. The loud pounding of the press behind him that shook his body from head to toe. 

Ah, that was the sound of his own heart beating uncontrollably. 

"My presence is bringing back unfortunate memories for you. I apologise, I am aware that you are not here to actually kill me." As if sensing Naegi's fear, Kamukura spoke slowly and clearly.

The other boy nodded slowly, refusing to take the hand from his mouth as stinging tears threatened to spill from the corners of his eyes. His blood was rushing in his ears, drowning out all sense, overwhelming him with the pure power that was Kamukura.

Kamukura stepped towards him, a move that startled Naegi more than it probably should have. He stepped backwards in turn, but quickly set his foot down on a small and unstable piece of rubble. Instead of Naegi launching off to run, his ankle rolled at an unnatural angle.

Naegi yelped as he fell forward, his forehead barely grazing the dirtied ground. He quickly rolled over, desperately shuffling backwards and away from the older man whilst attempting not to hurt himself any further. 

"Hey, listen to me! Calm down."

His body froze completely upon hearing the command. Kamukura touched his own lips in thought, a little confusion at his sudden break in character. He briefly pondered if his past emotions were through from standing in the classroom of 77-B.

But he deemed the thought unnecessary, for now, instead focusing back on the boy in front of him. "You're here to offer a compromise, are you not?" 

Naegi sucked in a quick breath, grateful for the reminder of what he was actually here for. Unfortunately the pain from his ankle was really beginning to set in, he needed to make this brief. Nodding quickly, he attempted to regain his composure. "Yes. I know I couldn't kill you even if I wanted to. But I don't, you deserve a chance at redemption."

"I cannot be redeemed. I was created to be a tool, I have no free will and only act on the orders of others." Kamukura spoke bluntly, tilting his chin up a little. "Your redemption means nothing to me."

Naegi paused. He was expecting this kind of answer, the kind Togami gave him when Naegi said he forgave him for his actions in the killing game. 

"Huh? I don't want your forgiveness. My actions are always justified." He had said. The memory brought a little smile to his face. 

"Okay then." Tilting his head up, Naegi showed that smile off to Kamukura, as if showing him a sign of peace. "Would you like to know more about Hinata Hajime?"

"The previous inhabitant of this vessel? Why do you believe he would mean anything to me?" It was phrased less like a question, and more like an expression of confusion. As if Kamukura didn't really care about the answer, that he already knew the answer, he just didn't quite understand why Naegi Makoto, of all people, would have any interest.

"Because you're here." Raising his right arm, Naegi gestured vaguely around the room, before wincing and putting it back down. "Why would you come to a classroom full of students you didn't know to replace the flowers for Nanami Chiaki? The girl who was Hinata's best friend, the girl you murdered."

Kamukura's brow furrowed. He began to move in large calculated strides, right up to where Naegi sat, before leaning over him in a display of authority. "So you are smarter than you seem."

It was difficult to tell if it was Kamukura or Naegi who had let down their guard, perhaps a mix of both. But a small detail like that didn't bother Naegi, as his smile only widened beneath Kamukura's attempt of showing power. He had him, that much was obvious.

"Well, Kamukura-kun? Why are you here?" 

Kamukura pursed his lips for a moment, thinking to himself for a second, before answering the question. "Because being here makes me feel despair."

He curled his fingers into fists and glanced away briefly, sighing as he realised he would have to answer the inevitable question. "There are a few places in this world where I feel emotions. The classroom of 77-B, the Reserve Course building, and the third floor of the biology building."

"The third floor of the biology building?" As he thought to himself, Naegi unconsciously brought his hand to his chin. "That's oddly specific."

"The neuroscience institute." Kamukura elaborated. 

"Oh…" Naegi moved his hand up to his mouth again, feeling a mix of sympathy and horror. 

Of course he would feel despair there. After all, that's where Kamukura would have been made, where he would have been tortured and experimented on. Had his brain destroyed and enhanced over and over to produce the perfect hope. 

Where Hinata Hajime… died.

"It's an odd feeling, emotions. The emotions I experience from being in these places are perhaps the only reason I'm still here. That and the fact I have nowhere to go, no purpose left in a world without Enoshima." Kamukura began to mumble somewhat as he rambled on. 

Jeez, at least let Hinata rest in peace. 

Naegi bit back the thought, shaking his head and reminding himself of what he was really here for. "Come with me then. If you want to experience more emotions, then I can show you the Neo World Program." 

There was a slow blink as Kamukura processed the offer. "The Neo World Program?" 

"Yeah! We put it together using research from the Super High School Level programmer, therapist, and neurologist." Naegi grinned excitedly as if he was talking about how proud he was of his own child. "It's a simulation that allows people to live out peaceful days filled with hope." 

Kamukura blinked again. "The Super High School Level Neurologist, Matsuda Yasuke?" 

"Yes?" 

Those crimson eyes narrowed to near slits. "The childhood best friend and love of Enoshima Junko?" 

"...yes?"

"Who developed the method that was used to wipe your highschool memories prior to the Killing Game?"

For a moment Naegi paused, unsure of how to answer that one. "I…guess so?" 

Crouching down onto his haunches, Kamukura leaned in even closer to Naegi. "So you are using memory erasing technology then?"

Naegi leaned back a little, uncomfortable as Kamukura's hair brushed against his face. "...Yes." 

"And, assuming you're placing all of Enoshima's protégé's in this program, you'll have about 15 students?" 

"Yes, if we manage to convince them all..." Naegi's a voice dropped a little, finding himself suddenly a little more insecure about his plan. "I don't mean to interrupt but… where are you going with this?"

Kamukura was almost shocked at how naive Naegi was, especially considering he had been the one to end Enoshima. Or was he just stupid? "I'm merely baffled that you would sacrifice your own health for the sake of people you don't know. People who are murderers."

It wasn't a complete lie, most people would not have such considerations for criminals, people who had committed crimes as heinous as the ones the remnants had committed. 

Naegi noted the lack of emotion in his voice. "You don't sound baffled…" 

Ignoring his comment, Kamukura nodded. "I'll participate. I'll make sure the others do too."

"Wait, you will?!" Whilst sitting up a little too excitedly, Naegi put pressure on his ankle, sending pain shooting up his leg. He winced and laid back again. 

"Don't do that. Your ankle is broken." Letting out a bored sigh, Kamukura straightened himself back up. 

"B-broken?!" Naegi's eyes widened to near saucers in shock. "I thought I just twisted it… Am I seriously that unlucky?" 

Kamukura began unbuttoning his black uniform jacket, earning a strange look from the other as he slid it off his shoulders. He then proceeded to fold it in half and kneel back down next to Naegi's broken ankle. 

The other boy watched in awe as he tied it tightly, using it as a makeshift splint to prevent Naegi's ankle from moving too much. "Y-you're too kind Kamukura-kun… much more so than I anticipated."

"I'm doing this purely out of necessity. Nothing more." Kamukura muttered as he tightened the knot, causing Naegi to hiss in pain. He then proceeded to slide his left arm under the boy's knees and right arm under his back, nestling snugly at the base of his spine. 

"Wait wait wait wait wait what are you-?" 

Kamukura lifted Naegi up, causing him to wrap his arms tightly around Kamukura's neck in alarm. "Y-you're carrying me?!" 

"It's not as though you can walk." Kamukura sighed exasperatedly. He was having no issues with Naegi's weight, his panicked yelling, however… 

"B-but I'm heavy…" Naegi refuted, loosening his grip a little when he realised Kamukura wasn't going to hurt him. 

"You weigh less than most girls, in accordance with your height." Kamukura spoke bluntly, scanning his eyes over Naegi's form. 

"H-Hey!!" 

"You're easily flustered."

"Don't tease me!" with the heat rising in his cheeks, Naegi buried his face into Kamukura's chest in hopes of hiding his embarrassment. "I get enough of that from Togami-kun!" 

Kamukura shuffled Naegi in order to give himself a more stable hold before walking out of the classroom. Naegi grumbled into Kamukura's chest, pulling himself even closer.

"You're also easily placated. I do not understand how you've managed to survive thus far." Kamukura muttered, seemingly more to himself than Naegi. 

"You're not the first one to say that to me." Naegi whispered, voice muffled by Kamukura's shirt. 

As tempted as Kamukura felt to further tease Naegi, he decided against upsetting the boy any more than he already had. An emotional fallout would be annoying. 

They walked in silence for a few more minutes as Kamukura traversed the stairs of the building, holding Naegi tightly in order to keep him safe. 

It was near impossible to speak up over the overwhelming presence of the other, so Naegi remained still and quiet. Kamukura, however, was unafraid of breaking that silence, and suddenly piped up with a question. 

"Would the Neo World Program allow me to become somebody else?" 

"U-uh...I don't see why not? It might affect the results, however." Mumbling in thought, Naegi tilted his head up to look at Kamukura. "Do you wish to become a different person, Kamukura-kun?" 

"Well, I'm assuming you'll try to reverse the despair by reverting us to our pre-despair selves. However, I do not have a pre-despair self." Kamukura dug his fingers slightly into Naegi's shoulder, not hard enough to hurt, but enough for Naegi to see he was distressed. "Well, except for… him." 

Naegi pressed his lips together, trying his best not to be too creeped out by Kamukura's ability to predict exactly what was going to happen. "Well, that is what we planned to do. But I thought you were turned to despair by Enoshima?" 

"I was turned to spreading despair by Enoshima. However, from the moment I was created, I have been despair. There is no joy in an existence so boring." Musing to himself, Kamukura closed his eyes for a moment, still walking perfectly straight as he did so. "When a human is an expert at everything, there is nothing left to do, no goals left to accomplish. I can predict anything and everything just as it is going to happen. Nothing surprises me, nothing brings me joy. I no longer have the ability to feel human emotions."

"I see, that makes sense… even though it is really sad." Pressing his head closer to Kamukura's chest, Naegi pondered how it must feel to live such a life. He was finding himself rather upset by the prospect. 

Even if Kamukura didn't feel any human emotions, and his strength was beyond human, Naegi could hear his heart beating softly in his chest. There was no doubt about the fact he was human beneath that cold exterior. 

"You pity me?" Kamukura's tone was rather confused, even curious. 

No matter how much he thought about it, Naegi couldn't understand why exactly that warranted such confusion. "I… guess?" 

"Even though I bear every talent known to man?" 

Naegi shrugged. "It's lonely at the top."

Looking away, Kamukura took a moment to turn the phrase over in his mind. "You're quite intriguing, Naegi Makoto. Taking pity on terrorists and murderers. I wonder, what exactly led you down this treacherous path?" 

"H-huh? It's just common human decency…" As he stammered away, Naegi found himself fiddling with his hands against Kamukura's back. "You guys were normal teenagers once, it's not fair that you have to die just because your lives also got ruined by Enoshima."

"Many innocent people have died at both our hands and Enoshima's." It confused Naegi how Kamukura could confess such a thing so casually, so stone-faced. "It is only just that we pay for our crimes."

"That's why it should end here!" Naegi said that a little too loudly, too passionately. He adjusted his tone to be a bit more quiet. "A-And you guys should be allowed to have normal lives too."

Kamukura merely stared blankly ahead, lost in thought. "…You really are just like your sister."

Naegi suddenly gripped the fabric of Kamukura's blazer tightly, pulling himself up a little. "You've met Komaru?!"

"No." The words were curt. "Stop moving."

Naegi was confused enough by the response to decide it was best to stop talking. It seemed his weariness from being on his feet all day was starting to catch up with him, and the warmth from Kamukura's body wasn't helping his situation whatsoever. He allowed his eyelids to rest, relaxing to the tune of Kamukura's heartbeat against his ear and the rock of his movements. 

Kamukura found himself most unimpressed by this new burden. This boy had the audacity to not only break his ankle, but was now steadily shifting into REM sleep in his arms. The worst part was that ridiculously soft expression he was making, blushing slightly even in his sleep.

As Naegi mumbled sleepily, he relaxed his arms, opting to move them away from the other's neck and instead have them wrapped around his torso. Kamukura could rouse the boy, but he wouldn't dare. 

"Napping in the middle of the apocalypse in the arms of a terrorist?" Kamukura whispered to himself. "You truly are strange, Naegi Makoto."

[jenroses]

So 30 years ago today I almost died of a massive saddle pulmonary embolism caused by birth control pills and medical ignorance.

I went undiagnosed for 3 weeks despite telling every medical provider I saw from the moment I asked if it would be safe for me to take the pill, "my mother had a pulmonary embolism while pregnant, and then 2 more after she lost the baby."

I was told "It's not genetic" even though they just didn't know yet... Most coagulopathy that is genetic had not been figured out yet.

When I first told a care provider I got short of breath walking to the store, and that my mother had had an embolism while pregnant, and that I was on birth control pills, she said, "you're obviously depressed."

When I told the student health clinic that I was horribly short of breath just sitting up in bed and that I was concerned because my mother had nearly died of an embolism while pregnant and I was on birth control pills, they diagnosed me with asthma and bronchitis, gave me antibiotics and an inhaler, and said, "sleep here so we can keep an eye on you overnight."

I took the meds as directed and lay there desperate for oxygen and waited for the nurse to come back so I could tell her that the meds were not helping. She never came back.

The next morning I dragged myself to the nurse's office and she wasn't there, so I used her phone to call my mother who said, basically, "why are you messing around with the student health clinic, go to the ER and tell them they need to rule out a blood clot."

The ER did not, in fact, rule it out.

A vq scan and angiogram later, they have me a then-experimental clot buster and told me not to move for 12 hours. I recovered most of my lung oxygenating capacity, eventually. I did not recover my ability to manage college effectively long term.

17 years later I had another embolism, and asked about the drug I've been given, and they said, "we don't use that for this. People are never quite the same, after."

If my first instinct had been to go to the ER and ask them to rule out a clot, i probably would not have needed that drug at all. Because the clot would have been so much smaller.

The entire time it was happening, I tried to minimize it, because I'd always been told that I made too much of things, that I just wanted attention.

What has been demonstrated time and time again in my life is that if anything, I routinely downplay how bad things are.

So a moment to be frank about my current health: it's not good. The ra is bad enough that we're far down the list of treatment options. The current drug is requiring me to take other meds to quell my reaction to it and this week it started wearing off on day 5, I did everything I do to prevent migraines, and I still developed an immediate headache.

RA is not usually considered "terminal" but it does shorten lives and my case... The numbers are very bad and my response to treatment has been mediocre to terrible. I have not been fully off steroids for more than a few months in 4 years.

This is not a request for money or fundraising. I'm blessed to have a secure home and double insurance. I'm not alone. I have a supportive spouse, caregivers who knows how to quarantine properly who take my health seriously, and most of the adaptive equipment that could possibly do any good and a source for the stuff I don't have yet.

What this is a request for is to take yourself and your health seriously.

If a doctor doesn't know why you are having symptoms or the treatment doesn't help, it's okay to say, "if you don't have an answer, please send me to a specialist."

If you think you know what might be the problem, challenge them to rule it out.

If they ask why you want the diagnosis, say, "obviously I don't want to be right, but I'd rather know what I'm dealing with so we don't try to treat the wrong problem." (The albuterol was probably dangerous given what it does to heart rate and blood pressure, with the massive clots.)

It may help to act a little bored by it. "I know this might be nothing but given my risk factors we don't get to guess."

They only get to decide it's anxiety or depression when they rule out more life threatening causes. I have both, partly because of, you know, The Medical Trauma. But sometimes something being seriously wrong will have anxiety or depression as a side effect. Most of the people I know with RA had new anxiety months before diagnosis.

The thing I heard the most?

"Oh, you're too young for an embolism!"

What they didn't know is that at the time I had two genetic risk factors on top of the pills. I now have several additional acquired risk factors. But the science wasn't there yet, and I had not been diagnosed yet.

I'd had four embolisms before we learned about the second genetic issue that makes me particularly likely to have multiple embolisms.

There's no tidy ending. One of my many health issues will probably get me sooner or later. I had to break it to my kid the other day that yes, I've been such his whole life and it's not looking like it's getting better but it's only getting worse slowly. He has no memory of me well. Sometimes I think I have no memory of that, either.

[nblenasabrewing]

Does Lena have PTSD?

This excellent post from @drummergirl231-2 goes into a detailed analysis about Della and the examples showing possible PTSD. I, being who I am, wanted to look at the same for Lena. Full credit goes to them for the idea and format!

According to the DSM-5, in order for a person to be diagnosed with PTSD, they must have a certain number of symptoms from eight categories: Criteria A through H.

For a diagnosis of PTSD, someone needs: to meet Criterion A to have at least 1 symptom from Criterion B to have at least 1 symptom from Criterion C to have at least 2 symptoms from Criterion D to have at least 2 Symptoms from Criterion E to meet Criteria F, G, and H

DISCLAIMER: I am not a professional. I do NOT have a degree in anything related to psychology and simply enjoy dissecting the layers of a fictional character. If you feel you fit any of the criteria, please see a professional for a real diagnosis. This isn’t something that can be easily self-diagnosed, and a professional diagnosis would open you to more opportunities for help.

Lena does and doesn’t fit the criteria in general for PTSD. She’s certainly suffered from traumatic events, but the event is more... her entire life. She’s a classic child abuse victim, which makes her more of a candidate for C-PTSD. 

Complex post-traumatic stress disorder (C-PTSD; also known as complex trauma disorder) is a psychological disorder that can develop in response to prolonged, repeated experience of interpersonal trauma in a context in which the individual has little or no chance of escape. Being stuck with Magica for fifteen years absolutely contributes to Lena’s current issues. C-PTSD and PTSD share similarities, there are a distinct differences - mainly that PTSD focuses on one event and the effect it has on a person long term, while C-PTSD focuses on years of repeated trauma. However, there’s no approved criterion yet for C-PTSD. So I’m using the PTSD criterion with some added explanation where C-PTSD would be applicable. 

Criterion A: The traumatic event

A person must be exposed to one or more events involving threatened or actual death, threatened or actual serious injury, or threatened or actual sexual violation in one of the following ways:

Direct involvement

Witnessing the event happen to someone else

Hearing about it happen to a loved one

Repeatedly hearing details about traumatic events, such as police officers repeatedly hearing stories of abuse

The obvious example here: Lena effectively died. Twice. Following that, she was trapped in a realm where she couldn’t be seen or heard by anyone and she couldn’t touch anything for six months (give or take). Her first interaction with anything since she had been trapped there was smacking the Boggle case in Friendship Hates Magic! And even she’s surprised by that.

In addition, she spent fifteen years with Magica in her shadow, who effectively acted as an abusive parental figure. She’s proven to be an expert in gaslighting, and knows exactly how to manipulate Lena - by hanging the promise of freedom over her head and reminding her repeatedly that people will think she’s a monster if they find out the truth about her.

Criterion B: Intrusive Symptoms

Expected or unexpected reoccurring, involuntary, and intrusive upsetting memories

Repeated nightmares related to the traumatic event

Some form of dissociation, such as flashbacks, where the individual truly feels the traumatic event is happening again

Strong emotional distress when exposed to internal or external triggers associated with the traumatic event

Strong bodily reactions (such as rapid heart rate) when exposed to reminders of the traumatic event.

Nightmares: While we can’t say for absolute sure that Lena has nightmares outside of Magica’s influence via the helmet in NOKH, the fact that no one is surprised by her nightmares does seem to imply that’s she probably had more than she’s letting on. Lena’s biggest fear is turning into Magica, after all - it’s no surprise she would have dreams along that line.

Emotional distress, strong bodily reactions: These really come out in Violet’s library, when Lena gets overwhelmed and tries to hide. The fish-eye view of everyone trying to talk to her while she sees Magica over their shoulders was most likely meant to imply she was having at least the start of a panic attack.

In addition, her reaction to Webby calling her (looking like Magica) a monster was pretty extreme. Again, the dream world setting makes things a bit wobbly, but given everything we know about Lena up to this point, and the fact that she yelled at Magica for saying they’re both monsters, it feels safe to assume she’d be angry and upset and scared if anyone ever called her a monster (again, something Magica constantly used against her.)

Criterion C: Avoidance

An individual with PTSD will frequently avoid reminders of the traumatic event in one of the following ways:

Avoiding thoughts, feelings, or physical sensations that trigger memories of the traumatic event

Avoiding people, places, conversations, activities, objects, or situations that bring up memories of the traumatic event

Whether the nightmares were caused by Magica or not, their effect on Lena is real and pretty easy to see. She sets up an entire sleepover just so the kids can help keep her awake. Avoiding sleep to avoid nightmares is pretty extreme.

She also continues to keep secrets from everyone despite Webby’s constant reassurances that they all care about her and don’t think she’s anything like Magica, because the alternative is having to talk about it or worse, have her fears confirmed.

Criterion D: Negative changes in thoughts and mood

The inability to remember important details of the traumatic event

Persistent and elevated negative thoughts about oneself, others, or the world

Exaggerated self-blame or blame of others for the cause or consequence of the traumatic event

Pervasive negative emotional state (anger, fear, shame, etc.)

Loss of interest in previously enjoyed activities

Feeling isolated or detached from others

Difficulty experiencing positive emotions

Lena’s opinion of herself seems to be pretty low. We only get one episode to really see it, but her fear of turning into Magica and active attempts to avoid such an outcome definitely make it seem like she still considers herself “evil”, and is trying to make up for it. She also readily gives in and says, “I am her”, essentially giving up on herself.

The dream adventures also excellently illustrate how Lena feels “Othered” from everyone else - they get butterfly wings, she gets weird monster wings. She falls behind at Dewey High and is separated from the others. She’s the only one in Louie’s dream, aside from Louie himself, to experience any sort of physical change. Even when she tries to be happy with them, she can’t keep up the facade.

And before all of this there’s the classic example of her being jealous of Violet (under the guise of protecting Webby from being tricked again). She immediately assumes the worst of Violet and follows Webby around telling her not to trust Violet.

Criterion E: Alterations in reactivity that started or worsened after the traumatic event

Irritability or aggressive behavior

Impulsive or self-destructive behavior

Hypervigilance (feeling constantly on-guard, or like danger is lurking around every corner)

Heightened startle response

Problems with concentration

Sleep disturbances, such as difficulty falling or staying asleep, or restless sleep

Lena’s personality in season one was mostly that of the sarcastic, irritating cool teenager who can’t be bothered. Under that, she was an unwilling slave to Magica, and while she did show irritable tendencies toward her, those can be forgiven as “Magica is terrible and provokes her.”

Season two, on the other hand, shows us a much different teenager - one who snaps easily and seems constantly frustrated by her own perceived shortcomings. Those emotions, of course, come out on the other kids (i.e. snapping at Huey and Violet). And while all of that can be attributed to her inability to sleep, which is being driven by Magica, Frank’s already said this isn’t the last we’ll see of Lena’s emotoinal growth and negative feelings.

Criterion F: The above symptoms must last for more than one month.

Obviously time is relative in Ducktales. Given everything that was going on around them, we can assume she’s been home for around a month-ish. Donald left for a month-long cruise two episodes before Lena came back, and everything after that has to have taken place within that month or it would have been way too obvious something was up. And again, Frank has said this is going to come up again. But even while she was still in the Shadow Realm, she was showing signs of trauma.

Criterion G: Distress from symptoms significantly impairs the individual’s ability to function in multiple areas of life (social, occupational, etc.).

While we haven’t seen much of Lena’s daily life, we do know a few things - before returning, she was living in Webby’s shadow, presumably following her around and getting comfortable in her shadow-y life. Violet throws a complete monkey wrench into that comfortable life, and Lena reacts... poorly, to say the least. She initially refuses to take responsibility for the tulpas feeding off her own negative feelings, continuing to project all the reasons she hates herself onto Violet (”She’s a spy, she’s a second-rate me,” etc.).

In NoKH we see that the triplets aren’t quite used to the fun, happy persona Lena tries to project, which immediately gets a frustrated yell and fire flaring up. She’s so worried about trying to be Good that her anxiety bubbles over into her life. She’s also constantly keeping secrets, something that is, unfortunately, normal for her, but not normal overall.

Criterion H: The symptoms are not due to substance abuse, medication side-effects, or another condition.

So the real issue comes in here - while there’s no medication or substance abuse, there is an outside force. Most of what we see of Lena’s symptoms are due to increasing sleep deprivation via Magica’s brainwave helmet. By the time NoKH starts she’s already gone at least several days without sleep, and it’s obvious the dreams are deeply affecting to her, to a point where she arranges an entire sleepover with her friends just to keep from going to sleep. There’s no way to know what she was dreaming about (although I have a few theories), but it almost certainly involved Magica, the main cause of her trauma. And we see how understandably upset she gets when she’s finally face to face with Magica.

In conclusion:

Lena is a complicated character with a lot of different factors playing into who she is, but there’s little doubt that after fifteen years of emotional/psychological abuse, two deaths, and six months trapped in what could almost be summarized as an isolation chamber, that Lena has some serious trauma. And while Magica influenced a lot of NOKH, it should also be noted that Magica, as her abuser, most likely acts as her trigger now. She spends the entire dream sequence running away from Magica, terrified to confront her. And while she has an amazing, empowering moment at the end of the episode, I’m sure this is going to come back up again.

(***All GIFs by me)

[worldserasingandcreatinginmymind]

The Intern | Part Seven

Series Summary: You move to New York to focus on your art but end up working as an intern at Stark Enterprises

Chapter Summary: you begin your training with Natasha and start to feel the effects of the serum

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader, Natasha x Reader (friendship), Bruce Banner x reader (platonic)

Word Count: 2190

A/N: this story does not follow the same timeline as the movies. Also, spelling and grammar is not my strongest skill so please be kind :) *really sorry how long this took me to post and that its quite short*

Part Six | Masterlist 

- - - - -

You're woken up the next morning by the sun suddenly shining on your face as the curtains opened themselves and the sound of an alarm you definitely didn’t set. You pull your pillow up to the sides of your head to cover your ears.

“uh..? FRIDAY?” 

“good morning miss Y/L/N”

“whats going on? What time is it?” You ask as the alarm stops.

“it’s 5.30am. This is your wake up call.”

“its 5.30 in the morning?!” You sit up, rubbing your eyes.

“Miss Romanoff is waiting for you in the training room. There are clothes in the closet.”

When Tony said Nat liked to train early, you didn’t realise it would be this early. 

“okay thanks FRIDAY” you say, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. You rub your hands over your face then lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees and your chin in your hands. You are so tired. You don't realise your eyes closing. Then the alarm starts again and you jump up. 

“okay! okay! I’m awake!”

The alarm stops. 

You walk over to the closet and find the training clothes that have been left for you. You quickly get changed, tie your hair up and head to the elevator. FRIDAY sends you to the right floor and before the doors open she tells you to walk to the end of the corridor and take a left. You thank her and follow her directions. 

When you walk into the training room you find Natasha stood at the shooting range, gun in hand. She pulls the trigger twice, hitting the target in the head and right in the heart.

“wow” you gasp and she spins around to look at you.

“don’t get too excited, we’re not doing gun training today” she says locking the gun back in the gun case. You let out a small sigh of relief. You didn’t want her to know, but the thought of handling a gun was terrifying to you. 

She picks up some boxing gloves and walks over to you. 

“you ever boxed before?” She asks, you shake your head. She hands you the gloves and smiles. “then this is gonna be fun”

An hour later you are soaked with sweat. Nat was right, boxing was fun but it was also exhausting. After teaching you some basic moves on the punching bag, Natasha grabbed some punching mitts. She put them on and instructed you to try hit them as she moved around. You were worried about accidentally hitting her but she assured you she could take it. You were surprised at how much you were enjoying training, and how good you were at it. You feel a sudden surge of energy and as you punch you miss Nat’s hand and hit her in the stomach. You must have hit her harder than you thought because you send her flying across the room straight into the weights rack.

“oh my God Nat! Are you-“ you start but suddenly feel your energy drop extremely low, to the point where you're swaying and cant even finish your sentence. Natasha gets up out of the mess just in time to see you fall down to the floor. She runs over to you, shouting your name. She rolls you onto your back, you can barely keep your eyes open. 

“y/n? Can you hear me? y/n?! FRIDAY! Get Tony down here now!”

She stays kneeling next to you, trying to keep you awake until Tony comes running in, followed by Bruce. 

“what happened?” Tony sounds slightly panicked

“We were boxing. She was doing really well; she threw me across the room…” she points to the knocked over weights rack “…and then she just fell”

“we need to get her to the lab, now!” Bruce instructs. Tony immediately scoops you up in his arms and carries you hurriedly out of the room. Thankfully the lab was on the same floor so you didn’t have far to go before you were placed gently down on the same hospital bed you woke on in yesterday. Bruce grabs some sort of scanner off the table and waves it over you, looking at the screen. Your eyes flicker open slightly.

“Tony?” You whisper breathlessly.

“shh, its okay y/n. You're going to be okay” he responds, squeezing your hand. Your eyes shut again and everything goes quiet. 

— — — — 

When your eyes reopen you're still in the hospital bed in the medical lab. Tony is sitting on a chair next to the bed. He’s deep in thought and you note the look of turmoil on his face. He spots you looking at him and instantly his face changes, he smiles at you.

“Hey you're awake. You gave us all a fright. Nat thought she broke you.”

“she thought she broke me?!” You ask shocked, as you sit up in bed “I’m the one who punched her!”

“about that, why didn’t you tell me you were New York’s strongest woman?!” He jokes standing up to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“because I’m not” you shake your head “I don't know what happened in there. It’s like I had this, sudden burst of power come through me and I couldn’t control it. Then as soon as it came, it left again. Only it left me completely empty.” You pause and Tony watches you closely. You take a breath. “does this have something to do with Professor Randall’s serum?” 

“yes” comes another voice, you look and see Dr Banner stood in the door. He comes in, holding more papers like the ones yesterday. “the serum was supposed to have given you super strength all the time. But you only had half the dose which means-“

“I only get half the strength?” You finish. 

“Kind of. Your body is fluctuating between having powers and having none. That’s why your strength left as quickly as it came. The problem is when it leaves, it leaves you with nothing at all. And thats why you passed out.”

“so what do I do? Am I going to just be stuck like this forever?” You ask fearfully.

“there is something we could try-” Bruce starts.

“no!” Tony suddenly interrupts, standing up and walking over to Bruce “I told you yesterday we cant do that, there has to be something else” he takes the papers from Bruce and looks through them, looking for answers.

“do what?!” You ask, frustrated at being left out of the loop.

“we could inject what’s left of the serum into you, complete the dose. The powers should come though properly then.” Bruce explains.

“not an option” Tony states.

“don't I get a say in this?” You say.

“no! This is too dangerous, we’ll figure something out.” Still frantically reading though the papers you now realise are results of tests Dr Banner has been doing. 

“like what Tony? We don't know how much worse this could get?” Bruce says.

“and we don't know what else is in that serum” Tony replies.

The two continue arguing with each other, and you find yourself zoning out as you stare at the floor. You think for a while and come to a decision. You stand up out of bed and walk closer to the boys. 

“I want to do it.” You interrupt them. They stop arguing and look at you. “i want to take the rest of the serum”

“absolutely not!” Tony starts

“this is my body!” You argue back. “I didn’t get a choice when those guys broke in and injected me, but I do get a choice now. And I choose to take the damn serum.” You say forcefully. Dr Banner looks slightly shocked. 

“okay… I’ll, uh, I’ll go get things ready” he says slightly startled by your decision but he leaves the lab. You watch him leave then take a seat on the edge of your bed, processing what you're about to do. Tony silently takes a seat next to you. 

“y/n-“ he says quietly but you interrupt him.

“please don't try and talk me out of this” you say, staring at the floor. He pauses. 

“I’m not going to” he finally says and you look at him. “i just want you to be 100% sure that this is what you want”

You think for a moment before answering. You nod. 

“I am. I don't ever want to feel the way I felt today again. I had no control over my body at all. It was terrifying.” You take a shaky breath. Tony places his hand on your knee and gently squeezes. “so I’m taking back control.” You say suddenly sure of yourself. Tony nods.

“well I’m not happy about it, but I support you.” He says.

“Thank you” you whisper smiling, before resting your head on his shoulder. He leans his head on yours and you stay like that until Dr Banner returns with the serum and a needle. Tony stands up to move out of the way. When you see Dr Banner preparing the needle you feel a sudden wave of anxiety. 

“is there really no other way of taking this thing? Never been very fond needles, especially ones that inject unknown substances” you say and Dr Banner shakes his head. 

“remember you don't have to do this” Tony says.

“no, I want to” you say, trying to convince yourself more than anyone else. 

Dr Banner rolls up your sleeve and you look over to Tony, trying to focus on anything other than what’s about to happen. 

He sees the fear in your eyes and rushes to your side, sitting next to you and putting his arm around your shoulder. 

“I’m right here” he holds your hand with his other hand.

Dr Banner picks up the needle and as pushes in into your arm as gently as possible you squeeze Tony’s hand tightly. He empties the serum into your arm and removes the needle. 

You take a deep shaky breath, relieved its over but also apprehensive of what comes next. The last time you were injected with this stuff you felt immense pain and passed out. Would that happen again?

“now I need you to stay here tonight so I can keep you under observation” Dr Banner says as he guides you to relax into the bed and attaches various monitors to you, one of which starts beeping quietly in sync with your heart rate. Once he’s finished he puts the needled and empty serum bottle on a tray and carries them out of the room. Tony stands up off the bed and you think he’s leaving too. You grab his hand.

“please don't go” you say and he turns to you in surprise. 

“I’m not going anywhere” he smiles “ill stay here as long as you want me to y/n”

“thank you” you reply.

You start to feel a tingling in your fingers and toes. Then it moves up your arms and legs. You look down at your arms, wiggling your fingers as the feeling gets more intense. 

“y/n?” Tony asks, noticing your movements and hearing the heart rate monitor starting to beep faster. “y/n? Are you okay?”

“I.. I can feel it…” you say shakily as the tingling turns into a burning sensation, like before. “its happening again” your heart rate becomes rapid as the sensation travels through your chest.

Dr Banner returns and comes straight over to you.

“y/n? What do you feel?”

“burning” is all you can say, clenching your fists and bringing them up to your head. Your eyes are shut tight and you hold your breath, you're trying not to scream. 

“this is normal, this is your body reacting to serum. Your DNA is adapting. y/n? Listen to me, you have to breathe. It will be over in a minute” he tries to reassure you. Tony stays unusually quiet but doesn’t leave your side, keeping is hand firmly on your shoulder as a reassuring presence. 

After a few minutes the sensation starts to die down and your heart rate slowly returns to normal as you steady your breath. You open your eyes and immediately look at Tony who gives you a small smile. 

“at least you didn’t pass out this time” he says and you give a small tired smile.

“no but you should get some rest now. Your body has just been through a massive ordeal. I’ll come back and see you later” Dr Banner says before leaving. 

“he’s right, you should sleep” Tony says and you nod. “do you want me to leave you alone?” He asks and you shake your head. “do you need anything?” He asks. 

You think for a moment before replying. 

“I’d really like a hug” you say, and Tony smiles. You move over to make space for him and he climbs up onto the bed next to you, putting his arm around you. You lean into him, resting your head on his chest. You can hear his heart beating and its strangely comforting. You allow yourself to drift off to sleep and Tony kisses the top of your head.  

Part Eight

Taglist: @brownbuble​, @shookie-shookie​, @thebuckysoldier​, @chai--chae​, @ilovespideyyy​, @sunflowers-and-snowdrops​

[bonsaisheep]

My experience starting ADHD meds (for the first time) as an adult:

So I started ADHD meds recently. I contacted my doctor in early December, and spent the next month or so trying to figure out the right medication and dosage via basically weekly doctor’s appointments (online). Since there was a lot I found out after starting the meds that are apparently common experiences, I figure it might help to talk about my experience with all of this.

So I am medicated for my ADHD for the first time in my life at 27. There were two attempts when I was a kid, but neither of them worked out. The first when I was in fourth grade (I was diagnosed somewhere between first and third grade, I can’t quite remember), it was decided the side effects were not worth it, and a second attempt in middle school, but I refused to take it since I bought into a lot of the BS around brain meds. Its only in the last few years as I have learned more about ADHD have I learned exactly how it is effecting me. I managed to do well enough in high school to get into a good college (after doing really poorly in jr high). Managed to get an engineering degree (in 4 years with research, I was hella burnt out by the end of that) and managed to get (and hold) a job as an engineer shortly after college. Basically, since I could at lest fake functional and manage well enough (mostly because I was taught a ton of coping mechanisms by my parents as a kid), I just, never realized how much it effects me. I have been living an interesting and fulfilling life (as long as you ignore my mail bathtub).

After learning more and realizing that it was my ADHD was the source of a lot of the frustrations and struggles (I am basically a human checklist of the symptoms), I started to consider medication. The biggest reason for me is that I wanted to be able to focus on my own hobbies. I am incapable of hyper-fixating on anything that involves sitting down (or like, in general I am really bad at sitting down). I put off doing anything about if for years because well... executive dysfunction is a thing. It is really because of my roomate I finally went through with getting on mediation. This summer I moved in with a couple of close friends, one of which is also a cis women with ADHD who was diagnosed in elementary school. After not being interested in medication herself for most of her life, she recently decided to pursue it after some long conversations with another of our roomate’s girlfriend (I am one of 7 people in my friend group with diagnosed ADHD). Basically it was an accountability thing. We both held each other accountable for contacting our doctors.

Ok so after that very long introduction, what exactly are my experiences then? One of the things that surprised me was that I didn’t really run into too many barriers regarding getting on meds. In my case, I just talked to my general practitioner and she was like cool, lets start with XYZ. She actually didn’t want my original diagnosis since it was so old that she felt like any proposed plan would be out of date. (This is compared to my roommate who had to get a copy of her original diagnosis and even then her doctor was mostly comfortable prescribing meds because she is in talk therapy). (Though she has also pointed out I have been seeing my doctor for a bit now and therefor have a repor with her compared to her own doctor who was basically randomly assigned to her by her insurance and she met for the first time (online) when she contacted him to discuss meds)

I was originally prescribed Wellbutrin, a common off lable option for ADHD (it is a non stimulant, and by extension less bad side effects). My doctor wanted to go with it due to my really bad anxiety since it could potentially help with both. Unfortunately it made my anxiety way worse and I had a panic attack for the first time in years so we quickly stopped it and switched to other options. The next thing we tried (which is what I am now on) was extended release adderall. This is the most common stimulant prescribed to adults with ADHD. From what my doctor was saying, it is preferred for adults since it lasts all day (and with pretty even effects), it helps cover both work and the evening since most adults have additional responsibilities in the evening. In my case, due to how I responded to the Wellbutrin she also wanted to make sure I was on something that would not spike my dopamine. When messing with the dosage, I found that the amount that seems to help is also the amount that make my insomnia worse, so I am take a slightly lower dosage of the extended release, and make up the small difference using the short release.

Regarding side effects, the two noticeable ones that did not go away after a week (I initially had problems with a high heart rate, but that went away after a few days) are thirst and hunger suppressant. There is not much I can do about constantly being thirsty other then drink a ton of water. I was able to talk to a friend about the hunger thing, so I was able to implement quite a few tips and tricks that help me eat something during the day.

The two odd side effects I was not expecting is that caffeine actually effects me now and I also have way less of a sweet tooth. My doctor warned me about the caffeine thing, and my coffee drinking has really gone down. I went from at least two cups a day to a mug of half caff in the morning (I can’t cut it out entirely due to withdraw symptoms (so you know addition)). Regarding the sweets, I don’t know if I crave sugur less, or if it is improved impulse control. A good portion of my impulse control issue revolve around food so I am unsure.

Also I am running into a thing a friend was telling me about. The meds help you focus end of statement. This means you can end up focusing on things you don’t want to be focusing on.

As for the positives, well, I guess I was expecting more. I knew that meds weren’t some magic bullet and I was still going to need to use all of my coping mechanisms, but I guess I thought that the focus issues, would, just go away. But this is not how meds work. The way my roommate’s girlfriend describes it is that it gives you 15% more spoons, and that makes a ton of difference (for some people, this can be the difference between stuff like being able to hold a job). It is also really hard to tell if your meds are working. I texted a friend asking about how to tell, and he basically told me that it was the million dollar question (meaning there is no clean answer). Honestly, I still don’t know for sure if they are working or if I am just saying that. Part of it is that i literally can’t remember what I act like or feel when I am not on meds (and if I take a break for a day, vice versa). I am currently going with the assumption they are though.

For me, what I have been finding is that while I still get distracted from tasks I don’t like, I return to them faster. So rather then getting bored, getting on my phone and like, fucking around for a long time. I might just briefly check social media and then return to my task (meaning I get more done faster). I have also found it is making the executive dysfunction way easier for me. It is still difficult to start tasks, but, it takes distinctly less energy to do so meaning I generally start tasks sooner, or in some cases, do them at all to begin with. It helps curb some of my impulse control issues, mostly around stuff like food and impulse purchases of going out for lunch or coffee. It might be helping with the emotional dysregulation, but I have a hard time gauging that one. It’s just making things a bit easier, and well, that goes a long way.

More importantly, I am achieving my original goal. I am more able to focus on my hobbies and interest. I am starting to return to robotics, and it is already going better then when I tried it out as a teenager. I don’t know how well this will work out in the long run, but I am cautiously optimistic.

TLDR: I am not quite sure how to summarize, but if you know people on ADHD meds and are considering them (or are otherwise not on them and want to know more), it is probably worthwhile to have a conversation about them.

[that-yandere-life]

Soulmate Series: How You Meet (Part One)

Tony Stark-

Not everyone has a soulmate, but those that do have various ways they are connected to each other.

For you it was that the rate of your heartbeats always matched the other.

So if you were stressed or in danger he would immediately feel it.

God you were terrified when you felt your heart basically stop when he was in Afghanistan.

The way the two of you met was actually really kind of sweet.

Somehow you were invited to a Stark party, whether it was by a friend or because of your work.

People were basically wall to wall covering the room, the conversation making it almost impossible to hear.

Accidentally you ran into someone knocking their glass out of their hand causing it to shatter on impact.

Apologizing profusely you bent down to help pick it up.

Hitting a particularly sharp piece cutting your finger slightly.

When your heart rate spiked due to the pain he felt it too staring at you with wide eyes understanding before you even met his gaze.

Upon explaining you questioned if it was even possible, that your soulmate was THE Tony Stark.

Taking you to a quiet room he asked FRIDAY to check if it actually matched, which she quickly confirmed.

Tony was determined to keep you by his side, there was no leaving him anymore even if you wanted to.

Not that he would tell you that in any way.

After all these years he finally found his soulmate, the one destined to be his.

Steve Rogers-

Steve had always seen the world in a blend of various shades of gray.

Sketching only in charcoal pencil when he did his little drawings in his sketchbook.

No point in using color you couldn’t see.

Believing that he was going to die not meeting his soulmate when he went into the ice.

Upon waking up in present day he was confused, but also had a sense of renewed faith that maybe he just didn’t find his soulmate before because they weren’t alive yet.

He will always remember the day he met you, having saved you from an alien about to eat you alive.

Feeling you shake in his arms until your eyes latched onto his, seeing the most brilliant blue you had ever seen before.

Quickly he set you down, only having time to get your name before he had to return to the fight.

That is what began his obsession with you, knowing that you both belonged together.

Watching you from afar initially to discover what kind of person his soulmate is.

Finding out everything you liked and disliked, determined to be the perfect one for you when he finally approached you.

Pretending to run into you again, he asked you out on a date.

There was no way at the end of the night you would be walking away from him again, he wouldn’t let you go a second time.

Clint Barton-

Clint had been born with a tiny arrow tattoo just behind his ear.

Legend had it that his soulmate would have the same one, in the same place.

Although he was sure that he didn’t have a soulmate, a man with a crazy life like his didn’t deserve one in his mind.

When his hearing was damaged, his hearing aids that Tony built him covered it up.

One day he got into a hand to hand fight with a Hydra agent during a mission.

His aids were knocked out and smashed under their boot as a part of the struggle, thankfully they could be replaced with an extra set he kept in his vest.

Ultimately he won but he definitely had some cuts and bruised ribs that would need tending to.

Luckily you had just started in the medical wing of the tower as an on duty nurse.

Getting your first patient you never expected that they would end up being your soulmate.

Talking to Clint it felt like you had known him your entire life, and in a way you kind of had.

Laughing at one of his jokes you tucked your hair behind your ear not thinking anything of it when your tattoo was showing.

You of all people knew how rare it was for even people with a soulmate to find the love of their life.

Catching your gaze he moved his replacement hearing aids showing that the two of you matched.

Gasping you touched it gently with the tips of your fingers, unable to believe that you were one of the special cases.

Clint would never let you go, not after being proven so wrong about you not existing as there you were in front of him.

Natasha Romanoff-

For as long as you could remember you had gotten various injuries when you least expected them.

When you were a child you were taken to the doctor where they revealed that you had a soulmate out in the world.

That when they got hurt, or vice versa the other got the injury in return.

Occasionally you would get hurt really badly, having apparent bullet wounds even from time to time.

That is what made you think that your soulmate worked a dangerous job, so you decided to do the same in return.

Training really hard to become one of the top SHIELD recruits in your class.

Meaning you got to do your final evaluation with an Avenger.

Of course you grew nervous when you discovered that you were assigned to Natasha Romanoff, her reputation preceding her.

Stepping into the sparring ring with her you began to move around narrowly avoiding her attacks.

Effectively fighting her off for the most part, doing exactly what you had been trained to do.

Unfortunately you got distracted when she asked you about a scar you had, allowing her to get a good punch in.

Falling back onto your ass you felt blood dripping from your nose, touching it as your eyes watered you didn’t notice her touching her own.

Looking up focusing you saw that she was bleeding from her own nose despite you not even getting close to hitting her.

Natasha wasn’t upset though, in fact she was almost starting to cry at finally finding you.

Kneeling down she took you into her arms, taking in the fact that she would never again have to be without you.

Bruce Banner-

You remember spending a lot of your childhood in a state of fear and anxiety most of the time.

As you got older you started to get angry for no reason at all.

One minute you would be fine, the next you were enraged like you had just witnessed your car being set on fire.

It was really starting to become a problem in your day to day life.

You couldn’t hold down a job for long before you would have an outburst and get yourself fired.

Going to a therapist you were told that likely your soulmate was the cause of your emotional state.

Having it explained to you that you can also help them by giving them your emotions too.

So if they were having a moment of rage you could give them relaxation or joy in return to counteract it.

Likely you taking on their emotions fully like you had been only projected it back onto them even worse.

Feeling confused about how you had gone this long without knowing you had a soulmate, you wondered if it was real or if the therapist was full of shit.

That was until one day you were watching the news at a local diner where you had managed to earn a temp job as a waitress.

Talking about an attack on the city, showing live footage of the situation showing all of the Avengers getting ready to attack.

Gripping the counter tightly you felt yourself start to get angry again, so you attempted to calm down.

However it was no use as you watched a man turn into a tall green monster on the screen, knowing in your heart and soul that he was the one you were meant to be with.

Rushing out of there you stupidly ran down to where the fighting was taking place, luckily getting there after it ended.

Following the roars you started to give out feelings of calmness and peace.

Turning the corner you saw a mostly naked man panting and heaving hunched over in a nearby alleyway.

When he suddenly felt joy he looked up seeing you standing there smiling at him, knowing it was really him when you experienced a brief bout of confusion at first.

“It’s you...you’re real.”

Nodding you rush over not even caring about his state of undress, throwing your arms around him.

For once Bruce didn’t let go, this was meant to be and he was going to let it take him.

Thor Odinson-

Thor was getting frustrated being stuck at the same body he was when he was 18.

A thousand years or more had passed and he still hadn’t found his soulmate.

It was only while working with the Avengers on Midgard did he find what he was looking for without even realizing it.

Being part of the team yourself you often interacted with Thor when he was hanging around.

Somewhere along the lines he became obsessed with you, taking in every bit of information you would give him when talking.

Learning much about the culture on Earth from you at the end of the day.

Seemingly over the next few years you got closer, to the point where you would say you were best friends… if not more.

One morning you were looking in the mirror and you saw something that shocked you beyond belief.

A silver hair in the midst of your natural color.

That meant you were finally aging, something you hadn’t really done in the last ten years.

There was only person it could be, the person that seemingly had your heart even if he didn’t know it.

Thor noticed his own aging for the first time around the same moment you did.

Crinkles had formed in the corners of his eyes, something that definitely wasn’t there before.

Rushing to find you, you both ran into each other... literally.

Luckily he caught you in his arms, you both starting to laugh at the coincidence.

Showing each other what you had discovered, deep down it was like he had always known it was you.

No one will ever love you more than the man who waited more than a lifetime to be with you.

Loki Laufeyson-

Most of your life you had your own dreams, that was until the attacks in New York.

Ever since then, there were times where you were just a spectator in the front row of a horror show.

After many nights with little to no sleep due to the terrifying sights you went to a sleep clinic to find out what is going on.

There you are told of a rare connection to a soulmate where you share each other's dreams.

However they couldn’t explain why it took so long for them to start.

The only explanation offered was that they came within close proximity of you and that jump started the connection.

A solution they offered was to attempt to lucid dream and bring them into your space to see who they were.

It took awhile but finally you felt like you wanted to attempt it.

Loki was sleeping and found himself sucked into your dream, something he always prefered over his own.

You provided his much needed escape from reality after all that had happened to him recently.

Quickly he realized that this was different than before, you seemed far more in control of the narrative than usual.

When you asked for his name he was shocked since normally you never knew of his presence.

Shocked as you were when you found out he was the man who had hurt a lot of people, connecting the dots between the timing your dreams started and when he attacked.

As you felt yourself starting to wake up you swore you heard him tell you he was going to come for you at the first chance.

Somehow you didn’t know if you were comforted or terrified by those words.

[Part one of How You Meet! If you want more soulmate scenarios with everyone let me know! <333]