#i need to run a clinical study on him

[atomicradiogirl]

dennis reynolds | there’s a good reason these tables are numbered honey, you just haven’t thought of it yet

[deprivedreality]

𝗪𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗻𝗼 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝗞𝗮𝘁𝘀𝘂𝗸𝗶 𝗕𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗴𝗼!! 𝙚𝙭𝙘𝙚𝙥𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙮𝙗𝙚 𝙆𝙖𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙞 𝘽𝙖𝙠𝙪𝙜𝙤 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙜𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨

Word Count: i don't know

Content: katsuki bakugo with glasses isn't an office siren, he's more of an attractive dwight schrute imo. gender neutral reader. drabble. fluff. i just saw these pictures on pinterest and I watched myself cook.

Katsuki Bakugo rubbed his temples as he squinted at the whiteboard in the training room. The writing blurred together, a hazy mess that made his already limited patience dwindle faster than usual. His vision had been weird ever since that run-in with a villain wielding a blinding quirk during his internship with Best Jeanist. The doctor had said his sight would recover in a few weeks, but the lingering effects were starting to piss him off real bad.

“Bakugo, you okay?”

Your voice pulled him from his thoughts. You were sitting beside him, your head tilted slightly as you observed his uncharacteristic struggle.

He's been rubbing and rubbing his eyes that you're worried they'd pop off any moment now. Damn, he can't even focus on his notes of fucking course cause he can't read it with the stupid combination of fucking astigmatism, myopia and glaucoma.

“I’m fine,” he grumbled, averting his gaze.

You weren’t convinced and, of course, you were concerned. “Doesn’t look like it. You’ve been squinting at everything for the past few days. Maybe you should get your eyes checked again.”

“Tch, I don’t need a damn checkup,” he snapped, but his annoyance lacked its usual bite. You frowned.

“Come on,” you said, standing and grabbing his arm. “What’s the harm in getting it checked? If there’s nothing wrong, great. If there is, we’ll figure it out.”

He sighed, realizing you wouldn’t let this go. “Fine. But if this is a waste of time, I’m blaming you.”

It's a good thing you two were still in school grounds, it means Recovery Girl is no more than a few halls away from where you and bakugo were studying at.

The clinic was quiet when you arrived, and Recovery Girl was quick to examine Bakugo’s eyes. After a series of tests, the diagnosis was clear: his vision was still recovering, but for the time being, he needed glasses to help him see more clearly.

Bakugo’s expression was a mix of annoyance and disbelief. “Glasses? Seriously?”

“It’s just temporary,” Recovery Girl assured him. She then walked towards a closet in the far back and whipped out what seemed to be nerd glasses. “Here, try these.”

The doctor handed Bakugo a pair of black-rimmed glasses. He put them on reluctantly, and you had to stifle a laugh when you saw the way his eyes looked magnified through the lenses.

“What’s so damn funny?” he snapped, narrowing his newly enlarged eyes at you.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing. “I’m sorry, but—oh my god, Katsuki! You look like a cartoon character!”

He scowled, but there was a faint pink tint to his cheeks. Despite his irritation, there was something oddly satisfying about seeing you laugh like that.

"I'd put a bow on that glasses if you'd let me! All you need now are beaver teeth and you'll be a certified goof ball!" You laughed, basically breathless. Even Recovery Girl couldn't help but stiffle a laugh.

“Shut the hell up,” he muttered, taking the prescription and storming out, but not before glancing back to catch you still grinning.

The next day, Bakugo walked into class wearing his new glasses. The room went silent for about three seconds before the laughter began. Even Todoroki and Tokoyami couldn't help their grin, their lips twitched in amusement.

“Bakugo!” Kaminari wheezed, clutching his sides. “You look like a scientist!”

"Whoah! Bakubro! I feel like I'm in a 3D movie with those lenses!" Kirishima added, laughing even harder than Kaminari.

"Heavens, Bakugo, Is that magnifying glass? Or are you just that eager to start class?" Even Iida couldn't help himself and added to the chaos. Bakugo was starting to erupt.

“I bet he can spot a typo on a billboard from a mile away with those,” Mina chimed in, tears of laughter streaming down her face.

"I bet he's craving bananas!" Mineta boomed. Unlucky for him, he was within Bakugo's range and got his ahh exploded.

“Shut the hell up!” Bakugo roared, his hands sparking ominously.

But his outburst only made them laugh harder.

You, sitting at your desk, couldn’t stop giggling either. You already had the laugh of your life when you saw him wear it for the first time, now you had the chance to actually examine him with glasses. “I think he looks cute,” you said loud enough for him to hear, still smiling.

Bakugo froze but his hands were still in the middle of choking Kaminari and Mineta, his glare snapping to you. “What? You didn't think it was yesterday,”

“It is cute though. Now that I stare at you more," you repeated, a teasing lilt in your voice. “The glasses suit you.”

He blinked, momentarily thrown off by your words. The classroom fell silent, everyone holding their breath to see how he’d react.

“Hypocrite,” he muttered, finally settling, sitting down and turning his attention to his notes. But you didn’t miss the way his ears turned red, or the way he didn’t try to blast anyone after that.

I think he looks cute! The glasses suits you... now that I stare at you more. I think he looks cute! It's cute though. I think he looks cute! Chanted at the back of his mind over and over. SHUT UP!

The next day, Bakugo showed up to class without his glasses. The change was immediate—everyone noticed, but no one dared comment on it. His glare alone was enough to keep them quiet.

During lunch, you slid into the seat next to him. “Eee? No glasses today?”

“Wearing contacts,” he replied curtly, poking at his food.

“Why? The glasses were cute,” you said, resting your chin in your hand as your gaze sauntered off.

He gave you a side-eye glance, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly when you weren't looking at him. “Yeah, well, I’m not here to entertain you idiots.”

You pouted dramatically. “I liked the glasses. I thought for sure you'd wear them until you get better. I never thought you'd like contacts. Are you ever gonna wear them again?”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” you repeated, narrowing your eyes. “That’s not good enough, Bakugo.”

“Tch,” he muttered, pushing his tray aside. “I’ll wear ’em during our study sessions, alright? Happy now?”

You blinked, caught off guard by his casual mention of your study time together. But you smiles nevertheless. “Oh. Yeah, that works! Lemme decorate it!”

“The damn glasses are not mine, idiot. But whatever,” He stood abruptly, leaving you alone at the table, your cheeks warm and your heart racing.

True to his word, Bakugo showed up to your next study session wearing his glasses. You couldn’t help but smile as he sat down across from you, his usual scowl softened by the frames perched on his nose.

“You know,” you said, flipping through your notes, “I think I like you better with glasses. You looked extra goofy cute.”

He snorted, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah? Well, don’t get used to it. I’m ditching these things the second my eyes are back to normal.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the fondness in your smile. “Whatever you say, Bakugo.”

For the rest of the session, the two of you worked in comfortable silence, broken only by your occasional teasing and his gruff responses. At one point, you scribbled a tiny pink bow to which you cut out and Bakugo actually agreed with your request to put it temporarily on it. And though he’d never admit it out loud, Katsuki Bakugo didn’t mind the glasses so much when it meant he got to see you smile like that.

ᓚᘏᗢ @deprivedreality 2024 | all rights reserved.

[kewrnage]

𖤐 𝗕𝗜𝗧𝗘 𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗞𝗦

⌗ ꒰ possessive! caleb x f! mc reader ꒱ ; drabble ; love and deepspace. suggestive. caleb found out about you being forced to resonate with sylus and took matters into his own hands. 

⌗ ꒰ a/n ꒱ ; caleb being a sylus hater will never not be funny in my head cuz imagine. wrote little ideas in a blank document while having my clinical night shift duty, until i finished the rest back home after i slept 😭 i’m converting entirely to caleb i’m afraid.

You choked back a gasp, the air tight in your throat. It was too late now. His teeth, sharp as shards of ice, sank into your flesh with a devouring hunger that sent a tremor through your body. 

His pull away was a relief, but it was replaced by a different kind of air. He leaned back to admire his work, a smirk twisting his lips as he studied the fresh bite mark.

"This should be a clear sign to everyone, and show that red eyed bastard," he whispered, his voice as smooth as silk against your ear, yet laced with a dangerous undercurrent.

Leathered thumb traced the mark, the rough texture a stark contrast to the smooth skin beneath it. The bite was just the latest addition to the collection adorning your neck and shoulders

“To know who you belong to.” he purred, drawing his lips back against your ear, each breath a heated ember against your skin. It sent a jolt of electricity through you.

“God, I hate him so much. I'm the only one who you should turn to.” Caleb's voice heavy, with a little shaking from irk. His hand clamped onto your chin, rough leather against delicate skin. It was a vice-like grip that forced your head back, lifting your face towards his. 

“But don't worry, he won't be able to reach you anymore. Untraceable, even with his bird.” His breath, hot and ragged, rasped against your skin as his nose brushed against your cheek once again and pressed his lips on your skin. You couldn't move, his body pressed against you from behind, a wall of heat and strength that anchored you to the spot. 

His words, a low rumble, brushed against your ear: "I’ll make sure I’ll be the only person you'll run to." A chill snaked down your spine as his hand, encased in smooth, leather gloves, slid under the hem of your cloth and the tips of grazing your skin. "Be everything, anything, you'll ever need in your life and nothing will stand in our way."

Then, a slow, deliberate pull, his touch moved from your cloth, no was pressed against your jaw once again, forcing your head back. His hardened gaze dropped to your collarbone like a quarry to be marked like the other places. His intention was clear. He intended to keep you away from that man in black and red, and from the world, as long as he lived.

Now, he peers into your hesitant eyes with his yearning ones, looking for a sign.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Stray Kids Reaction || You Can't Have Kids

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - October 2024

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅MASTERLIST

CHAN:

He sits across from you, silent after you reveal the news. You'd been agonising over it all morning since the doctor had phoned you and you'd had no idea how to tell Chan. You’re didn't know what you were expecting, disappointment? Maybe sadness, but instead, Chan reaches across the table and gently takes your hand in his.

“We’re a team, yeah?” His thumb brushes over your knuckles, grounding you. Your heart racing as you looked up at him, you knew how much starting a family meant to him but he wasn't going to let you go through any of this alone.

“I love you, and this doesn’t change anything. We’ll figure out what’s best for us. We have options, and we don’t need a traditional family to be happy.” His smile is soft but steady, full of reassurance. Tears welled up in your eyes and he rushed to sit beside you, bringing you into his arms and holding your head on his shoulder.

“Whatever happens, I’m not going anywhere.” He promises you, holding you tightly as you close your eyes. The doctors told you that they would help you with anything you could need and gave you good clinics for surrogacy for even adoption agencies.

MINHO:

Minho stares at you after you tell him, not speaking immediately. The two of you had been trying to have a baby for a long time and when you weren't able to concieve you'd ended up going to see a specialist, just to see what you were dealing with but it was your problem. Turns out you weren't able to carry a baby due to a 'hostile' uterus and you'd just broken the news to your husband.

The silence makes you nervous, but before you can say anything, he stands and moves to sit beside you. Without warning, he pulls you into a hug, burying his face in your neck.

“We don’t need kids to be a family,” he murmurs, his voice low but tender. Your heart was beating so fast you were almost sure it was going to burst out of your chest and into his arms but he just stroked your back softly,

“We already are one.” He leans back, his hands still resting on your arms.

“And if you ever feel like you’re not enough because of this, I’ll remind you that you are. Every day if I have to.” You smile a little as he runs his hand over your cheek,

"I love you," you whispered to him, thankful you had him by your side.

"I love you more." he winks.

CHANGBIN:

When you tell Changbin, his eyebrows knit together in concern, not for the news itself but because you look so distraught. You'd gone off on a huge rant about it was "okay" if he wanted to leave you ebcause you couldn't give him kids. The whole thing left him fuming with himself that you could have thought he would leave you because you couldn't have a baby,

“Hey,” he says, tilting your chin up gently. “I don’t love you because I want you to give me kids. I love you because you’re... you.” He gives a soft chuckle, trying to lighten the mood, but you can barely manage a smile as you look at him, 

“Kids or no kids, it doesn’t change that. We’ll make our own happiness, alright? We can always explore other ways if we want to, but I don’t need anything else if I have you.” You smile at him and nod your head a little, cuddling into him as he holds you tightly against him,

"We could always adopt a bunch of puppies," He smirks at you, squeezing your shoulders a little as you giggle at the thought.

HYUNJIN:

Hyunjin sits quietly as you explain, his eyes never leaving yours. When you finish, the silence between you is thick with emotion, but before you can apologize or say anything more, Hyunjin reaches out, gently taking your hands in his. His thumb brushes over your knuckles in soothing circles as he studies your face.

"You’ve been holding this in for a while, haven’t you?" he asks softly, his voice gentle, almost a whisper. The idea of you holding all of this alone killed him inside,

"I can see it in your eyes. I’m sorry you felt like you had to go through this alone." His hands tighten around yours, and he scoots closer, leaning in until his forehead rests gently against yours.

"Listen to me, baby," he whispers. "This doesn’t change how I feel about you. We don’t need to fit some mould of what a ‘perfect family’ should look like. We can create our own happiness, in our own way." You feel the warmth of his breath against your skin as he continues,

"And if you’re worried that I’ll be upset... I’m not. I fell in love with you, not with the idea of a future that has to look a certain way. And if we want to explore other options for a family, we’ll do it together. You and me. That’s all that matters." He whispers, his tone so confident you couldn't help but believe him,.

JISUNG:

You'd been putting off telling him for weeks but finally it all came rushing out of you, unable to hold any of it back from him anymore. When you finish, he doesn’t say anything for a moment, just processing what you’ve shared. Then, he wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly. You cry against his shoulder and he gently rubs your back,

���Is that what’s been bothering you?” he asks gently, resting his chin on top of your head. he knew you'd been going through something but whenever he asked you, you avoided it.

“You’ve been worried about this?” He pulls back enough to look into your eyes. He gently wiped his thumb under your eyes to remove the tears and you sniffled at him.

“This doesn’t make me love you any less. And if you’re upset because you think I’ll be disappointed... I’m not.” His smile is warm, and full of affection. 

“We’ll be okay. We can adopt or find another way. We don’t have to rush anything...We can take time a process this,” You nodded at him, liking the idea of taking some time to think before you acted on anything,

FELIX:

Felix immediately notices the fear and anxiety on your face as you reveal the news. There was something off about you for weeks and he now understood what it was. 

"I get it if you don't...If I can't- I let you down." you could barely get the words out and his heart clenches, not because of the revelation, but because of the weight it’s clearly put on you.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers, pulling you into his chest. He holds you close, running his fingers up and down your back softly in a comforting manner. 

“You don’t have to feel like you’ve let me down. You haven’t.” His words are firm but kind, filled with reassurance. There was nothing in the world you could ever let him down, least of all like this.

“We’ll figure this out together, yeah? There’s so much more to life, and we can still have everything we’ve ever wanted, no matter what.” He looks at you as you nodded,

"Besides, means we can travel more right now and I know for a fact you've been wanting to go and visit Paris." he smirks at you and you smile weakly, cuddling into him.

SEUNGMIN:

Seungmin’s reaction is measured, as always, but you can see the tenderness in his eyes as you explain the situation. He doesn’t rush to speak, instead giving you his full attention until you’re done. Once you finished you blew out a breath and he moved closer to you,

“We’ll be alright,” he says simply, but his tone is filled with confidence. He reaches out to hold your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel like there was a pressure on you to carry a child, there were other ways the two of you could have a baby,

“There are many ways to build a family, if that’s what we want. But no matter what, I want you to know that this changes nothing about how I feel. You’re still my person, and that’s all I need.” He promises you, reminding you of your vows to one another as you felt your body heating up and nodding.

"We'll figure it out together," he promised you.

JEONGIN:

Jeongin listens quietly as you tell him, and you notice the worry that flashes across his face, not for the situation but because he sees how much it’s affecting you. He takes your hands in his, squeezing them gently. He could tell that you had been feeling "guilty" about this whole thing and that was the last thing he wanted from you,

“You don’t have to feel bad about this,” he says softly. “I didn’t fall in love with you because I wanted kids, I fell in love with you because... i wanted to be with you for the rest of our lives. I wanted to grow old with you and eventually push you around in a wheelchair...or get matching scooters with you.” He gives you a shy but sweet smile and you laugh softly at the thought of you growing old and grey together.

"Matching scooters?" You giggled and he nodded, wiping the tears off your face,

"Oh and Zimmer frames, you'd have yellow tennis balls and I'd get blue," He winks at you and you relax a little.

“We have a lot of time to figure things out. What matters to me is that we’re together. That’s enough for me.”

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[doki-doki-imagines]

Happy new Year! I wanted to request an Reader with healing powers by touching,healing the boys of Mortal Kombat pls?

author note: Thanks! Happy new Year to you too!! As someone studying to become a doctor this request is a little to perfect LOL. feat. Earthrealm guys for my own sanity this time, but if you want you can also ask for Outworld ones.

Johnny Cage: -He doesn't believe in your powers AT ALL. -I'm not saying Johnny can't wait to hurt himself, because pain sucks, but he may get a bit careless… -He's gonna cut his finger with paper, the most stupid wound that sting like a bitch. -He visits you, you don't laugh at him, just touch his index with yours and…voilà! No wounds anymore. -He is stunned, mouth open. You absolutely need to come to Hollywood and let people pay, you know how rich you can get?? -Johnny will be attached to your hips, wounds or not. If he can't get you out your clinic he wants at least a date with the cute doctor.

Kenshi Takahashi: -He visited you after the Mileena accident. -Sadly you can't regrow new eyes, being able to heal just from tissue that is alive. -That doesn't mean you can't help him soothing his pain! Or decrease the itch he feels from the skin that grew there. -Kenshi visits you frequently, not just for medical reasons but also to share a cup of tea together, your chats a relaxing moment during frenzy times.

Raiden: -He doesn't visit you often, but when Raiden does he has a kind voice, even with broken bones and teared skin. -Luckily most of the time Raiden wounds aren't that serious, but he tends to prolong his stay in your clinic. -At times he felt asleep on the bed, heavy breath and some times snores. -He is so cute you never wake him up, but pulling a cover on his body to keep him warm and comfortable.

Kung Lao: -He has never been proud of the wounds and scar that he has, but at least now Lao can see the positive side of the bruises; visiting you. -You don't say he is dumb, and treats him with utmost care, your soft fingers on his skin make his heartrate speed up terribly. -Lao hopes you don't notice, hiding his real emotions under puns and flirty jokes. -You can totally feel Lao's heart, but find him cute, trying to sputter out puns to make you laugh, so you let him act.

Liu Kang: -He asked you to help at Wu Shi Academy because he knew about your powers. -Liu Kang made sure you had a tiny house of your own, separated from training grounds, but near enough to run to you in case of emergency. -He doesn't suffer of any injury, but he often visits you to ask if you are fine, just chit chatting about your days. -Every time Liu Kang visits you he brings a present, each time it gets more expensive. Maybe one day you'll pick up the signals, or maybe you could heal his broken courage; it has been awhile since Liu Kang asked someone out.

Geras: -He also doesn't need any kind of healing, but when someone is wounded he runs to you. -Most of the time you talk about work, you tried to pry informations about the you of other timelines but Geras never budges. -So you started to gossip with him, useless stuff, but you know he'll never tell the secrets out. -He listens to you, already knowing everything, but Geras enjoys your company so he sits still, your voice almost lulling him.

Bi-Han: -Doesn't trust you, he has never heard of healing magic. -But there you are, on your knees, him laying on the ground, your fingers repairing every cut, every wounds on his body with a mere touch. -Bi-Han starts to visit you more often, he wants to know your secret, the Lin Kuei's doctors could only improve with your guide. -You laugh at his proposal, telling him this is a gift you have since you were born and that you prefer your magic to be of everyone usage, not only his ninjas. -He scowls and exits your house. But Bi-Han won't give up, he'll convince you one day, he is sure of it.

Kuai Liang: -He doesn't have the time to have doubts about your powers because the first time Liang heard of you is the time you are healing him. -Now it is too late to heal his face scar, but for sure you can help him with his other wounds. -Liang begs you to join Shirai Ryu, but you refuse "You are good people, but my power is for everybody, not just your clan." -He accepts it…and trasfer Shirai Ryu base near your house, enough that if his men needs help you'll be right there. -And maybe Liang would be able to visit you not only for work matters…

Tomas Vrbada: -He visits you mostly because everybody is talking about your powers. -Tomas brings food, while you prepare a hot beverage for you two. You chat about your days, 'till Tomas finally asks you the question that has been wandering in his head for too long. -"So, are your powers real?" -You smirk into the cup, but don't reply. You take a knife and do a small cut on the back of your hand, you are so fast that Tomas cannot stop you. -He cannot also because the moment a drop of blood spill the wound has already healed itself. -Tomas is astonished, wide eyes. -"You are so damn cool." -You hope he'll visit you more often, you enjoys his company. Let's hope Tomas will never come for working matters, tho.

[flippinpancakes64]

Could you write the Cullen's accidentally hurting their SO and how they would react?? (I alr know Jasper's is about to be so angsty lol)

The Cullens accidentally hurting their S/O

I've literally been rubbing my hands together like an evil villain waiting to do this request. I saw it in my inbox and had to hold myself back lol. And yes, I cannot resist the temptation to make Jasper suffer, so be prepared

Edit I got so carried away. If I had a word count on these it might be like 10k lol sorry not sorry

And thank you for this request! This was so much fun to write lol I hope you enjoy it!

Also quick note I might have channeled a bit too much inspiration from Saw or something cause I ended up getting a bit too into my descriptions of the injuries so

TW for graphic depictions of violence

Edward:

You really wanted to go to this concert

Edward knew that, so as a birthday gift he bought you two tickets

One for you and one for him of course

He drove you to the stadium, studying the songs he was going to be hearing later that night

He bought everything that you looked at

You basically had your own merch table

The night was going great

You both found your seats, you were happily eating some overpriced stadium food, and the show was about to start

When a guy stood directly in front of you

The bad part about floor seats is that there aren't seats

The guy was easily 6'6, towering above you even if you are taller

Reading your thoughts, Edward tapped the guy on the shoulder, asking him if he would kindly move or crouch or something

He just looked, rolled his eyes, and stared forward again

"Dude, my partner can't see the show. Please just move a little"

"Don't care. Not my problem."

Edward's getting pissed, and the guy can tell

"What, you wanna fucking fight? Square up rich boy."

"No I don't want to fight I just want you to move a little"

"Okay, then maybe your partner here will fight instead"

And the next thing you know, you see the guy's huge fist heading straight for your head

Before it can land, Edward's hand pushes on your chest, sending you back into the people behind you and ending with you flat on the ground

Your back aches from the impact, your neck torqued from where your head whipped, and your cheek stinging from landing on the side of your face

You feel Edward's chill hands on the sides of your face, and faintly you hear him ask something frantically

You groan in pain as you feel him pick you up, and finally succumb to sleep

You wake up in Carlisle's clinic, staring at the white ceiling

A cold hand is wrapped around yours, and when you turn your head, you're greeted with bright gold eyes

No words are exchanged for a moment before you clear your throat

"So... did you at least rock that guy's shit?"

He laughs and kisses you

Alice:

Alice was having a terrible week

She had been getting vision after vision, and none of them were true

Everything from a huge motor accident to what color shoes someone at school was going to wear

It was constant

She was running in circles, going somewhere, seeing a vision, turning around to go somewhere else, seeing a vision, turning again, and on and on

She was currently driving

Or more like swerving

All you needed were some damn glue sticks for a project you needed to do

But every time Alice decided on a new destination, a vision of a horrible catastrophe would enter her mind, and she would change her course

You had enough

"Alice! Enough of this! Just pull over and let me drive!"

"No! I need to know the safest route... ugh! Everywhere is dangerous!"

"Name one vision you've had in the past week that actually came true."

"Well I don't know if they would have come true or not because I didn't go to those places. And look! We are perfectly fine! Everyone is fine!"

"But I don't have all night, Alice! Just choose a fucking store and go there!"

"Fine."

And so she did. She chose the small supermarket right outside of town

She looked nervous as soon as she placed the car in park

But you ignored it and walked in

You walked through the aisles, looking for the one thing you came here for, when you hear Alice gasp behind you

In her mind, she sees you tripping and falling into a display of DVDs, cutting your arm on one of the metal frames holding them in place

And straight in your path is the DVD case

So naturally she tries to grab you

Only she doesn't grab you, she accidentally pushes

You don't fall in her vision, just like how you didn't fall in real life

She was the one who hurt you, pushed you

That was the problem

The reason why there was a horrible disaster everywhere she tried to go was because she was going to cause something one way or another

Only this is worse, because now it involves you

The DVDs scatter, and she hears your cry of pain as the sharp, crooked metal frame pierces the skin of your arm

She is by your side in a moment, scooping you up and not even bothering with the mess you both left behind

On the way home, you are trying to convince her that it's not that bad, but she is beside herself

After Carlisle's inspection, you get a couple of stitches in your right bicep, but other than that you're perfectly fine

And Alice doesn't leave your side

She is constantly fussing

Asking if you're okay, if you need anything, if you're mad at her, if you want to leave her, if you blame her

But after you go to sleep and she watches over your peaceful form, she convinces herself that you're alright

Jasper:

It was spring break and the Cullens decided to go to one of Carlisle's many tropical properties

It was the third day of the trip, everybody went to do their own things

Alice, Esme, and Rosalie went into town to go souvenir shopping

They dragged Emmett along to be their personal bag carrier

Edward and Bella were down at the private beach that came with the property, enjoying the sun and relaxing

That left you, Jasper, and Carlisle

The three of you were at the attached pool on the house

Carlisle was marinating in the hot tub, sunglasses on and a book in his hands

You and Jasper were in the pool doing anything and everything

Diving, jumping, swimming, racing (he always won), and messing with the pool toys

You had just climbed up the stairs to get out of the pool again, intending on showing Jasper your graceful canonball

But he noticed you were walking a bit too fast

He saw you trip, and like slow motion he sprang out of the water to save you

Only he didn't

His arms wrapped around your middle, saving you from a possible twisted ankle or scraped knee or bruised butt

But that didn't stop the back of your head from smacking onto the concrete

White hot pain erupted behind your eyes and knocked you out instantly

Your blood began to seep onto the wet floor beneath you, and he couldn't help himself

Carlisle heard everything and got up immediately

But he didn't get there in time to stop Jasper from wrapping his mouth around your throat and biting down

In a flash Carlisle threw Jasper up and off of you, rocketing him into the water, and scooped you up to run inside

You awoke some hours later, a throbbing in your head and a dull pain in your neck

The beep of a heart monitor was all you heard

Looking around, you were in the room you shared with Jasper, where just the night before you wrapped around his cold body and drifted to sleep

Only he was nowhere to be seen

Carlisle came to check on you, and he told you what happened

"Where is he? Where's Jasper?"

"... He... left."

"What do you mean he left?"

"He almost killed you. He would have killed you if I wasn't there. He feels terrible- no. Terrible isn't strong enough of a word."

It takes Emmett and Edward tracking him down and dragging him home for you to see him again

And even then he insists on Edward and Emmett holding his arms in case he were to try anything

He looks so broken

Muted red eyes, golden blonde hair shooting in every direction, the same swim trunks he had been wearing that day were covered in dirt and blood- presumably yours

And his face

He looked on the verge of tears, he would have been crying if he could

If the dry heaves coming from deep in his chest were any indication

He flinches when you take his face in your hands, trying to get away, not wanting to hurt you more

But when he kisses you, he remembers why he tries so hard to be good in the first place

Rosalie:

You had been asking Rosalie for WEEKS if she would pleeeeeeease take you hunting with her

And she had been turning you down for weeks

It's a very gross, animalistic process that she, quite frankly, doesn't want you to see

But she loves you

And she is only so strong

So after so many begs, pleads, and puppy dog eyes, she caves

She decides to make it a cute little weekend trip

Taking you to one of Carlisle's properties farther north into the snowy mountain region

You settle in to the spacious cabin and Rosalie makes sure you're all bundled up in luxurious furs and warm scarves before you both venture into the wilderness

She explains what she's doing step-by-step while she sniffs the air, searching for her prey

A wolf because she's part of the "Fuck Jacob" team

She sits you in a clearing and tells you to stay in place while she finds her wolf

You do, finding a snowy log and brushing it off to sit on

She ventures into the forest, eventually finding a suitable wolf and beginning her hunt

Chasing the wolf, being chased by the wolf, until she eventually leads it to your clearing

She knows you'll love the theatrics of seeing her kill it in live action

She chases the beast all the way until it's about to clear the tree line before she pounces

She can imagine herself from your point of view

Bright, shiny skin, flowing hair, posed in midair, and finally coming down gracefully upon her prize

Except she doesn't

The wolf takes a quick turn at the last moment, sending her flying straight into you

There's not much she can do while suspended in flight, and it happens too fast for you to recognize

In an instant her whole body slams into you at full force, knocking both of you onto the powdery ground below

The grunt of pain you let out is excruciating

She rolls off of you quickly, holding onto you, asking if you're okay, if you're hurt

You try to put on a brave face, but when you move your left arm in an attempt to prop yourself up, you find you can't move it

Broken. Completely snapped. And you scream

She paces in Carlisle's home clinic while he puts your cast on, worried out of her mind

But when Carlisle opens the door and she sees you sitting on the table with a goofy grin and a bright red cast, she can't help but relax

"You said red was your favorite color, right?"

And she just kisses you

Emmett:

You'd been dating Emmett for a while now, and had decided it was time for him to meet your family

And what better time and place for a first meeting than your nephew's fourth birthday party?

It was the middle of August, and the sun was hot

The icing was melting off of the cake as it sat on the food table

All of the adults were drinking margaritas and the kids had decided to play with the water balloons to cool off

Your uncle and Emmett were filling up the balloons as all of the kids at the party talked excitedly

You laughed as your nephew came up to you and asked you to be on his team for the fight

Of course you couldn't say no

And of course, to even the playing field, the other team got to have your human tank of a boyfriend

Very even

Emmett just smirked at you as your uncle assumed his place as the referee and commenced the battle

Pink, blue, green, yellow, and red balloons were flying like crazy

Small party hats were knocked off of even smaller heads

The giggles of 20 little kids rang loud in the air as water spurted all over the grassy lawn

And you took your chance to pelt your boyfriend as hard as you could

His light blue shirt was soaked, and his khaki shorts had a huge wet spot on the front

You were doubled over in laughter at the sight of your scary boyfriend covered in little pieces of rubber, with one particularly large piece hanging off of his ear

But he hadn't thrown any at you yet

"Come on, big guy! Don't be a wussy!"

"Oh you asked for it now!"

You saw him grab a little pink water balloon, it looking even smaller in his hand, and he threw it straight at your head

You briefly wonder if he filled his balloon with cement

The next thing you know you're laying in bed, an ice pack perched on your forehead

"Oh my god, you're awake. I'm so sorry, baby. I didn't mean to, you know how I get out of control sometimes. Not that that's an excuse! I'm just trying to explain-"

You cut him off with a finger to his lips

"Shush... .'m tired"

And so he just lets you sleep the rest of the night, his hand in yours the whole time

Esme:

Frankly, she doesn't know why you asked for her help

The Cullens had just moved into their newest house, and everything was set for the "kids" to join the local highschool the next day

You wanted a new look

"New place, new people, new me" you had said

She understood that much

But when you approached her one night with a box of hair bleach and a pleading look on your face, she was lost

Why her? Why not Alice or Rosalie? Or- and hear me out- a professional? They had the money

But you wanted to do it yourself. But not actually yourself For some reason you wanted Esme to do it

And even though she didn't understand, she still agreed

So that's how she found herself closely studying the instructions on the back of the little box telling her what to mix and where

"What's taking so long?"

"Hold on... ugh! This thing doesn't make any sense!"

"It's okay I'm sure it's super simple. I mean they give you all of the stuff. Just mix it all together and slap it on my head!"

Bad idea

She mixes everything together just like you asked, and plops a big lump of it onto the crown of your head

Instantly your hair starts smoking

You scream, asking her to take it off

And she tries, but it's not working

Carlisle to the rescue once more

She is so apologetic

She feels so bad that she hurt you so much

And at least you did get that new look you wanted

Shaved-to-the-skin bald

Carlisle:

He was feeling a bit cooped up

He loves his family, and he loves his life in the Americas, but sometimes he misses traveling and his old friends

So he decided to take you with him to Europe to see some old pals

Not the Volturi obviously

But some other acquaintances he hadn't seen for a while

You were a month into the three-month trip Carlisle had planned

You'd visited Italy, Greece, Spain, France, Britain, and were on your way to Germany

This next friend you were on your way to visit was a man named Friedrich Hans

Carlisle spoke passively about him, nothing positive or negative

He was one of the ones he hadn't been able to contact beforehand about visiting

He wasn't even sure if Friedrich was still alive, or if he even lived in Germany

He wasn't betting on either, but he still figured he would try a visit

The taxi pulled up in front of an unassuming house on a busy street in Berlin, painted a light grey with black paneling around the windows and doors

Carlisle opened your door for you, extending a hand to help you out

He walked with you to the door, rapping his knuckles against the solid wood

Instantly it creaked open and a voice inside whispered "Perfect" before a pale, veiny hand reached out and grabbed your arm

You yelled for it to let you go, begging Carlisle for some help

He grabbed you around the waist with one arm, using the other to try to pry the man's hand from your wrist

The opposing forces splintered on your bones and a sickening crack ran through your arm

Your hand fell limp and Carlisle was finally able to pry you away from the force in the house

"Ah... Carlisle... old friend"

"Old friend? You just tried to kill my S/O!"

"S/O... you always were a weird one Mr. Cullen... sincerest apologies... come in for chat?"

"No thank you, I believe we will be taking our leave now."

And with that he rushed you to the nearest hospital

He didn't have his medical equipment, so he just pretended to not know German so they wouldn't ask questions about how you broke your wrist

He cuts the trip short then and there

He sends letters to all of his friends that he wasn't able to visit, explaining that something urgent came up

He is so apologetic for the weeks afterward

He is convinced it was his fault even though it wasn't

He doesn't relax until your cast is off btw

Vampire! Bella:

Since she's so new to the vampire life, she doesn't know her own limits yet

She has hurt you a lot in the past

All accidents of course

Hugging you too hard, punching you playfully on the shoulder, telling you to catch something and literally lobbing it as hard as she can

She always feels terrible afterwards

But the worst was the time you took her bowling

It was 10 am on a Tuesday and there was no one at the bowling alley

Not even the competitive grandmas and grandpas in their bowling leagues

The only other person in the building was the bored looking cashier who wasn't even trying to hide that he was on his phone behind the counter

You both took your time to pick your balls, trying out all of the ones on the rack to see your best fits

You laced up your ugly shoes, input your names on the scoreboard screen and off you went

It was fun for the first couple of turns

Until the ball return does that stupid thing where it doesn't actually return your ball

It's your turn, and you're standing at the ball return tapping your foot restlessly waiting for it to show up

"You know, you can just use mine"

Bella stands up and grabs the ball she chose

The resin was a beautiful mix of black, purple, and pink with some reflective glitter sprinkled throughout

It's so gorgeous that you don't even check the weight

You hold out your hands to take it and it just drops straight through

And directly onto your foot

You let out a loud scream and try to move, but the ball won't roll off of your foot

Bella starts panicking, asking what she should do, scrambling around until eventually she picks up the ball and throws it onto the ground behind her

Maybe she forgot that the cashier was there, or maybe she didn't care, but she picked you up and started sprinting at full speed back to the Cullen house

She even left the car at the alley smh

On the verge of inconsolable

She is so frustrated that she can't learn to control herself

Doesn't leave your side tho

Note: Just for shits and gigs I timed how long this took me

Started at 12:01 am

Jasper done at 12:21 am

Edward done at 12:40 am

Alice done at 12:56 am

Rosalie done at 1:19 am

Emmett done at 1:33 am

Esme done at 1:44 am

Carlisle done at 2:03 am

Bella done at 2:16 am

Total time 2 hrs 15 mins

[scientia-rex]

I had one of those days where I just had too many feelings to fit inside my skin, and I’ll have to recover from it.

Telling a patient she has breast cancer. Telling a patient she has dementia. Calling a patient at 6:30pm, still sitting at my desk, because even though I finished seeing patients at 5pm, I have work to do. Doing an endometrial biopsy on a patient who may have cancer. Calling a company so I can get the password to a website so I can recredential every three months so my clinic can charge for my work. Working with an assistant on whom I’ve also done an endometrial biopsy. My regular MA is out with COVID. I’m getting a year-end bonus for the first time in my life. Some idiot kid thinks I don’t know how ears work. I saw back to back ADHD patients; one is a trans woman who paused her transition because she can’t afford it. One is a kid who did loops around the exam room chairs the whole time I talked to his mother. His mother was frosty towards me at first because I was running late because I was telling a patient she had breast cancer, and she was crying, and her daughter was crying, and when her partner died of a different cancer last year the hospice workers were homophobic and she’s afraid of hospice. A different idiot kid thinks I don’t know how soap works. The ADHD kid’s mom warmed up to me when she realized I cared and knew what I was talking about. The kid said, “AHEM. What’s up, chicken butt?” I laughed and high fived him. I gave his mom the Vanderbilt forms to assess ADD symptoms across multiple environments. I saw a patient who had a certain air about her that I recognized intimately, and at the end I asked what she did, and she was a doctor, too. I knew it had to be something like that. When I explain medical concepts I aim for lay language, but I can see when people get faintly impatient with me for it, and I’ll add in more and more technical language and see when they start looking confused; she didn’t. I could watch every new patient take in my brightly-colored hair, combined with the utterly forgettable rest of me, all browns and grays and dress slacks and comfortable shoes, because the hair is my one concession to my deep need for attention; in the exam room, I need to recede into the background so the patient can be the focus. Studies have shown that patients don’t like it when doctors disclose that they have the same medical issues. It might seem like bonding, but it shifts the focus away from where it belongs: the patient. That island of time is theirs. The breast cancer patient’s daughter said to me, “Thank you for spending the time with us. I know you didn’t have the time.” And I said, “From each according to their something or other, to each according to their needs. It’s lukewarm Marxism.” I don’t think she heard it all, or took it all in, which was good. I had a migraine that made my head feel three sizes too big with a steady drumbeat of pain despite taking two Ubrelvy, two Aleve, and two Tylenol, plus 100mg of caffeine and a propranolol and a Zofran. You have to disconnect each patient from the next. I can’t bring the breast cancer patient’s grief and heaviness into a room where a little boy is doing hand-stands and telling me silly puns. One of the nurses brought me a sublingual Toradol from a stash—someone’s purse, somewhere—because she wanted me to feel better, and I felt tears stinging my eyes because she cared about me. I couldn’t afford to cry. I just told a woman she has dementia and she doesn’t believe me. I told her to bring her husband to our next visit. I ended my clinic day doing an endometrial biopsy, trying to pass a uterine sound through a stenotic cervix, but I’ve done this before enough times to know to have the set of dilators ready. I dilated her cervix gently but firmly, with the back pressure of the tenaculum, until I could get the sound in, and then I left the sound there while my assistant handed me the sampling pipelle, because if you remove it there’s a good chance the cervix will tighten down again and you’ll have to repeat the dilation. The patient was holding her husband’s hand and chanting to him under her breath, in pain despite the Xanax I gave her.

I’m a doctor. It’s everything to me.

[wifelinkmtg]

This was intended to be an essay about chivalry—its history, its uses, its various incarnations—medieval violence, the Romantic reinterpretation, the ideal of chivalry in the American South and its attendant lynch mobs. I would have talked about the chivalric triad: Knight, Innocent, Enemy—the way the Innocent serves as a fulcrum for the Knight to enact violence against the Enemy—the iterations of this triad in any number of places in our society, from the so-called sheepdog mentality trained into our police to the legion of revenge-fantasy Taken clones. I would have talked about the way Kierkegaard in Fear and Trembling incorporates chivalry with the sacrifice of Isaac, the theology of self-justified suffering that comes from that. I would have talked at some length about various portrayals of lesbian chivalry in media—Revolutionary Girl Utena, the Locked Tomb books, Signalis—how they use it, what they say about it, and whether at the end there is anything worth salvaging from this intrinsically violent way of relating to the world, to others, to oneself, to God.

I think a version of that essay might still be worth writing someday, but right now, there's something I need to talk about much more urgently. Right now, there's something I suspect you might desperately need to hear. Today I'm going to talk about Godzilla.

GODZILLA SAVED MY LIFE: A Polemic

Godzilla Minus One (2024) takes place in Japan in the immediate aftermath of the Second World War. Its protagonist, Koichi, is a failed kamikaze pilot who in the opening scenes is repeatedly excoriated for his cowardice and dereliction of duty. When he returns home to a bombed and desolate Tokyo, his bereaved neighbor tells him, if people like you had done their duty, this would not have happened. The film spends the rest of its runtime doggedly refuting this idea. It says, out loud, that the relentless calculus of sacrifice that turns men into things to be spent has no place in this world, that it is needless and cruel. It is not subtle about this point. It is not trying to be.

I saw this movie in its black and white version in theaters in February, on the last day of its run. Its version of Godzilla inspires in me both terror and near-religious awe. It looms over the film, an echo both of the devastation of the war and of Koichi's guilt and shame, its presence inviting—demanding—the final consummation of the mission he abandoned.

I wept in that theater. I gripped my friend's hand and I sobbed. This is unlike me (unless I'm watching Gunbuster), and it took four days for me to work out why this Godzilla movie had affected me so profoundly.

arkansas kamikaze

and she looked, and behold! a beast rose from the sea, and against the beast he breathed glory in a Zero dive. his beatified smile shone from the wreck of the Little Rock Planned Parenthood clinic. and a great wind blew out of heaven, and she woke

and made breakfast, and watched her son wholly absorbed in Bonhoeffer, found her lipstick worn down to the nub for practice stigmata, and saw for a moment the dove descending, the tongue of fire over his head.

The thing about being raised in a right-wing fundamentalist family is that you are from birth being prepared to be a weapon, or a martyr, and there is really no difference between those two things. If my mother had had her way, I would have gone to a tiny far-right college and studied law for the sole and explicit purpose of getting Roe v. Wade overturned. She would, I believe, have settled for me bombing an abortion clinic. Certainly it would have been easier for her to reconcile with that than with what I became instead.

The other thing about being raised in a right-wing fundamentalist family is, some things stick. And it's very hard to notice, as your beliefs and values and identity undergo radical changes, that there is still a whisper in you that believes in the power of the glorious death, of the ultimate virtue of strapping explosives to your chest and walking into the halls of the Enemy. And when you feel helpless, when you watch systems and institutions that ought to prevent atrocities instead encourage them, that whisper grows louder and louder and louder.

Watching Koichi fly his last mission, watching him an instant before impact eject, and live—watching everyone live through the final confrontation because they had all rejected the calculus of sacrifice—allowed me to see also for the very first time this parasitic idea that had grown coiled inside me since infancy, allowed me to see where it had come from, its whole monstrous lineage, and then it allowed me to take hold of it and pull it out.

Twenty days later, Aaron Bushnell set himself on fire outside the Israeli embassy in Washington, DC, in protest of the still-ongoing genocide of the Palestinian people. He was, like me, raised in a right-wing fundamentalist environment. He was, like one of my siblings, a member of the US Armed Forces radicalized by his experiences and his own conscience. People called him a hero and martyr—on this very site, in responses to the excellent Crimethinc piece circulating at the time, I saw people saying they felt like they should follow suit (even though the article in question explicitly and repeatedly warned against it!) As if the loss of a person of conscience and conviction could be anything other than a tragedy, as if anyone in power choosing to support the genocide could regard the death of one of their own soldiers as anything other than what soldiers are for, as if the moral response to a genocide could ever be to add another corpse to the mountain—and still I saw people lionizing him, praising his courage and his sacrifice, all but telling people to follow in his footsteps.

No. Aaron Bushnell was a suicide. He lived his whole life within organizations that taught him that he could purchase more with his death than he could ever accomplish with his life, and while we may praise his conscience, we can only mourn his loss and the grievous error that led him to it.

This is the thing about learning to see this parasite: you begin to see it everywhere. Our history for millennia is awash with human sacrifice: Abraham and Isaac, Jephthah and his nameless daughter, Agamemnon and Iphigenia, the crucifixion of Jesus—and later, litanies, row upon row of dead saints, stories of glorious last stands. The courageous martyred dead: blood and corpses, only and always, to Moloch.

In light of the recent US election, perhaps many of my American readers are feeling shock or horror or despair. I understand, and without blame, with love and gentleness, I tell you that this is because you have not correctly understood the scope of the problem. You imagine a discontinuity between the liberal version of American capitalism and imperialism and the fascist version of the same. No such discontinuity exists. Things will no doubt be different for us here in the US than they would otherwise be, and probably worse, but there is no distinction to be made between the genocide of yesterday and the genocide of tomorrow. The enemy is the same. The work is the same.

Above all else, this is to warn you: when you do this work, when you look for a place you can put your shoulder to the wheel, there will be people who want to spend their lives—or yours—like coin to purchase some great change immediately. Perhaps they mean well, and helplessness and desperation drives them to act without regard for the consequences. Perhaps they do not mean well. Do not follow these people. Perhaps they merely expect you to go to prison, and have no plan for how to support you after that. This is barely different. It is far better for you to languish in useless liberal nonprofits which will accomplish nothing of value than to attempt radical direct action with people with correct politics and no forethought, and end up dead or imprisoned—but these are not the only two options. Aaron Bushnell cannot ever again do anything for anyone. You can.

This is as much as I know for certain. I love you. Don't die.

-------

End Notes

It would not be unreasonable to ask me, in light of what I've said here about martyrdom, what I think of it in other cultural contexts, especially since a similar word is often used to refer to e.g. Palestinian people murdered by Israeli soldiers. The answer is nothing at all. Such people get to use whatever words they want to salvage whatever meaning and comfort they can.

Godzilla Minus One, as effective a movie as it is, was not solely responsible for the scales falling from my eyes. It was an important part of the process, but I doubt it would have sufficed on its own were I not in community with people I trust and talk to about such things. "Godzilla and also my trusted friends saved my life" is, alas, a worse title.

There will be a part two to this. Part one seemed more urgent.

[bet-on-me-13]

Dr's Assistant Danny

So, Danny has to run away from Amity after deciding to tell his parents about his powers. They acted like they accepted him, but when his back was turned they shot him with one of their Inventions and dragged him into the Lab for Study.

They think he's been taken over by a Ghost and decide to be "Surgeons" by opening him up and removing the Ghost by hand. Throughout all of this, they are just telling Danny that they are qualified doctors and can definitely do this perfectly. But they don't even use Anesthesia, and don't know the first thing about Surgery. But their delusions of being perfect Doctors have taken a hold of them, and they can't even comprehend the idea that they are doing it wrong.

After a week of "Surgeries", they mess up and forget to lock his Cell, and Danny manages to escape, hopping on a Bus headed to New Jersey.

He ends up in Gotham, hiding in an Alley to avoid Civilians and to bandage himself up. Thankfully his parents stitched him up fairly well after the last session, but he is still really hurt. And the cuffs restricting his powers don't help either.

He passes out in the Alley and wakes up in a Doctors Office. He panics, thinking that his parents found him and took him back to the Lab. Thankfully, the resident Dr rushes in to calm him down.

It's Dr Leslie Thompkins, and she really wants her patient to stop struggling thank you very much.

She manages to calm him down, and explains that she found him in the Alley, but that he was seriously injured. He was out for 4 days.

He explains what he can, that he told his parents that he had powers and that they didn't take it well. Not the Ghost thing, but he does explain that his parents could charitably be referred to as "Mad Scientists", and Dr Thompkins figures it out from there.

Since he doesn't have a place to stay, she let's him stay at her place. It's not much, but it's enough for 2 people.

After a few days, he starts helping out in the Clinic as a way to repay her.

After a few weeks, he starts taking on the bigger jobs and starts learning about medical aid

A few months in, and both Danny and Leslie realize that he has basically become her Personal Assistant. So she trains him in the legitimate way, teaching him all she can about being a Doctor and basically everything he would have learned in Medical School, which really helps with his trauma over the whole "constant unethical surgery from people who claimed to be licensed professionals" thing.

He still has those Restraining Cuffs on, they could never figure out how to take them off and they were basically unbreakable, but he was fine on his own.

And a note to add to this is that all of this is taking place in the early Years of Batman, like Years 1 and 2. So it's certainly a shock when Danny walks in for work and sees The Batman lying on a Cot.

Over the many following years, Danny gets used to his life in Gotham. He managed to contact Jazz, and his friends as well, even if they needed to keep it very secret for fear of his parents finding out.

He manages to get on friendly terms with most of the Bat Family from their many, many, many visits to the Clinic.

He never does reveal his past to them, he knows that they would never not poke their noses into it, so he tried to keep it on the down low around them. He even hid his Cuffs all these years. (He doesn't want to attract his parents attention)

But that all changed one day.

He messes up. He accidently calls Jazz outside of their scheduled safe times and his parents just so happen to be visiting her new house at the time. They pick up the call for her, and Danny, not knowing it's not Jazz on the other end, says "Hey Jazz, it's Danny. Just wanted to let you know that I'll he busy with work for a while so I won't be able to call as often".

When he gets no response, he gets concerned and asks "Jazz? You there?"

His parents immediately begin to trace the Call, but before they can get an exact location Danny wises up and hangs up. Buts it's too late, his Parents know he's in Gotham now, even if they don't know exactly where.

Danny doesn't know that they tracked him down though, but he quickly figures it out when Red Hood is rushed into the Clinic a week later after being attacked by "A big guy in an orange jumpsuit with a laser gun", who was joined by "A tiny lady in a blue jumpsuit with a baseball bat"

The Drs Fenton reached Gotham and immediately began tracking any Ecto-Signatures they could find. And Red Hood just so happened to be the closest one.

Now Danny has to find a way to deal with his parents without his powers. Since the Anti-Ecto Laws are still in effect, they aren't technically doing anything Illegal, and their Government Contracts would protect them either way.

He needs to figure out how to get rid of them. Due to the high concentration of Ectoplasm in Gotham, there are many unknowing Liminals in the City. His parents could end up attacking many innocent Civilains in search for him, maybe even subjecting them to the same things he was subjected to.

The only way he can think to do that is to give himself up.

Of course he knows Dr Leslie would disagree, but before she can stop him he sneaks out in the middle of the night, leaving a note thanking her for all that she had done for him over the years. It explains that the people who attacked Red Hood are his infamous Parents, and that they are searching for him. They could end up hurting alot of people if they stay, so he needs to nip this in the bud and is going to turn himself in to them.

She immediately takes the note to Batman.

She still vividly remembers the state she found Danny in. He still has the V-Shaped Scar on his chest from his experiences with his parents, and she'll be damned if she' going to let that happen to him again. (She kind of adopted him as her son a while ago)

She tells them everything. How she found him in the Alley, his injuries, how she nursed him back to health, his story about Meta-Hating Mad Scientist Parents, the unbreakable Cuffs he always hid, all of it.

Now it's a race to find Danny and save him from his Parents again.

[safination]

Partners in Death...and Life.

Part I: Radio's not dead

| Part 2: Radio Will Be Dead if He Doesn’t Explain Himself. | Masterlist| ao3 Pairings: Alastor x wife!reader Tags: fem! reader, established relationship, human!alastor, hopefully not but just in case ooc!alastor (I'm trying my best to keep him as canon as possible) acroace!alastor

"Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you. Quite a pleasure!” One hand reset on his chest, and the other shoots into the air. It’s the bow you did in high school, back when you wanted theater to pay your bills. A performer’s bow. You chuckle. “I don’t think it will be quite the pleasure you think.” “Is that so?” Alastor’s smile remains constant. “And why would that be?” You show him the tray you’re holding. “I’m here to do your sutures.” [Or after a seven-year absence, you find the man you were married to in life, not only back in town, but also helping . . . *checks notes* . . . the Princess of Hell run a hotel aimed at rehabilitating sinners who were sent to the bad place for a reason.]

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You pass the tissue box—the third one already.

Your patient blows his nose, rubbing snot off his snout. He has to stretch his arms to reach his nose. Alligators are known for their long snouts. His nostrils flare when he sniffles.

Used tissue is discarded on the pastel-pink floor despite a pastel-pink trashcan stationed by his webbed feet. It’s been the same pattern for the last fifteen-minutes. Tissue, Sneeze. Floor.

“—and I have this . . . uh . . . like this real bad itch on my eye. I keep rubbing and rubbing but it doesn’t do shit! My eyesight’s gotten worse—It’s already fucked up but this is just different. My roommate hissed at me about getting blood all-over the carpet floors if I kept scratching my scales. Oh. Oh! I’ve been snee—achew!” Alligator snot lands on the pastel-pink floors of the clinic.

Your eyes twitch.

He takes another tissue and waves it around his head. “The top of my head is killing me. Ya’know where that is right?” He blows his nose. “It’s right here,” he says, inching his head closer to you. “The last nurse I went to was blind as a bat! Literally, she had the wings and everything. It was kinda hot.”

“I’m well aware of the location of your head,” you say. “You can lean back now.”

Tissue. Sneeze. Floor

Tissue. Sneeze. Floor.

Tissue. Sneeze. Floor.

Pastel pink floor.

Underneath the mix of feathers and hair strands, the bustling of the waiting room catches your ears. Someone curses, booming and violent at another waiting patient. A cough, a sigh, a barf. Painful curses erupt after that. You bring a hand to your ears, wincing as your eardrum ring. Pentagon City’s best and biggest hospital needs better doors, but those lazy sloth fuckers at the top invested at the first material they found.

The alligator sneezes into another tissue. He flicks it with his wrist, and it hits the pastel-pink wallpaper adorned with closed eyes. Maybe Belphegor should be the sin of Pride instead, considering all items are covered in her symbol.

“I really feel like t’was those exterminators ya’know?”

You do not, in fact, know. Half of what this young man says is incomprehensible.

His snout sways left to right when he shakes his head. “It’s only my second one, and this was a close call, and uh . . . well, ever since then I’ve been like this. One even got to my roommate. “

You hum, leaning back on your chair. You should petition to for thicker doors. And while you’re at it, better interior design, and better paint—something that isn’t pastel pink.

“Ugh, and it’s so not cool that this new roommate of mine’s been shedding since the day they moved in,” he says.  “Speaking of shedding, do you think it’s because of those exterminators? Do you think they like spread some sort of weird pollen to make us sick? They’re totally the type to do that.”

You take your pen—your pastel-fucking-pink pen—and poke his alligator sinuses.

Hell does have its own brand of humor. You gave your 20s to studying human anatomy, only to die and find yourself with the need to re-learn the boring part of biology.  (Two books on reptiles, four on mammals, and fifteen on sea creatures.)

“YEOWCH!” His teeth stick out again. You do not know what this means.  “What kind of nurse ar—“

“Doctor.”

“—you? That’s not the top of my head!”

You push back on of the feathers on your head. “Your roommate ‘hissed’ at you? And they’ve been shedding fur for two weeks now.?

“Yeah . . . ?”

You stare at him. “Have you ever considered that you’re allergic to your roommate?”

“Ooooooooooh,” he says. ‘Yeah, I was allergic to cats back when I was alive.”

You grab your (pastel-fucking-pink) prescription pad from the desk drawer. “Control it with some antihistamine. Four pills every 12 hours.”

His teeth start showing. You’re not sure if he’s frowning. It’s hard to tell. “Pills, really?”

You toss what you were writing into the massive pile of germs, mucus, and tissue. “I can give you a nasal spray. I’ll flush the mucus then insert a spray that prevents build-up,” you say. “They last for two weeks and then you’ll need to come back.”

He grabs the last tissue from the box. It still lands on your floor. “Ma’am nurse, do you have any more of this?”

You sigh and reach for a fourth box of tissue. “It’s doctor,” you say. “We keep nasal sprays here in the clinic. I’ll just grab one and you’ll be out in fifteen minutes.”

“No can do,” he says. “Before I died, my coach told me to stay away from that non-organic shit. It’ll mess us up real bad apparently. All those steroids.”

“You have phencyclidine sticking out of your coat pocket.”

“Pheny—what?”

“ . . . Angel Dust.”

“The porn star?”

“The drug. You have drugs sticking out of your coat pocket.”

“Come on, nurse—”

Threads erupt from your fingers. It snakes around his wrist, coiling and twisting.

He jerks his arm away and cries out when you tighten your hold. Your threads wrap around his legs. It pulls against his waist. Magic binds his arms, and tightens around every joint he owns.

You stop, only when the alligator struggles, trashing against the clinic chair.  His teeth bare and he snaps at whatever he can reach. You tug on one of the thousands of strings digging into his skin. His jaw snaps shut, and it will stay shut. Another tug and his back stretches to straighten. You move your fingers as if a piano laid before you, and he sits up like a good puppet.

Another month of clinic dury will be your punishment if those sloth from down below are lucid enough to do their jobs.Sadly, killing this idiot would have you suspended for three months.

“I am a doctor,” you tell him. “Do not make me repeat myself.”

The tension on your strings marks even the few scales scattered on his body. He’s a real idiot if he continues to struggle.

Delicate movements of your fingers bring him forward, his back still strained, and tilt his snout at a forty-five-degree angle.

Your threads elongate as you move toward the clinic drawers. It loosens around you, careful at keeping you able to move freely. It’s one of the handier parts of your magic. You shake your hands and the threads detach. It sticks to the floor to keep the alligator as your puppet. You scrub your hands thoroughly before taking the nasal spray and filling with with distilled water.

You place on nitrite gloves. It’s always best when dealing with bodily substances such as mucus.

You place a pan underneath and jam the tube up his nostrils, hosing his sinuses with water. The tension of his binding keeps him still. (If you ignore his whining, then that’s your business. The brawl you heard from the waiting room drowned it all out anyway.) He starts breathing better when all the snot flushes to the pan.

“Finished,” you say with satisfaction. You grab your prescription pad and write one for a nasal spray. “I cleared the mucus buildup so you shouldn’t feel any more headaches. The spray will keep your nose clear for as long as you use it. Come back if you start to feel any discomfort. For the rashes just get cream.” You point at the pastel pink door. “The exit’s right there.”

The threads dissolve in the air. He rubs his wrist, trying to soothe the red marks that your strings bring. You hand him the signed prescription.

He doesn’t close the door on his way out.

The broom and dustpan are hidden in one of the taller cabinets—pastel-pink like everything else in the room.

(Well, not everything. The radio sitting on the corner of the counter gives a splash of red into the room.)

You sweep the tissues into the dustpan. Your control over your strings is much more proficient when living beings are involved. Inanimate objects whip around when you use your magic on them, and radios have been difficult to purchase recently. It’s more convenient to clean using your own hands.

“Tagatha,” you call out when the floor is clean. “You can bring in the next one in.”

Silence is your reply.

“Tagatha?”

Your ears quirk. The noises are faint—an occasional cough, silent weeping, and muted voices coming from the television. You peek out the door, eyeing the crowd formed around the corner of the hall where a pAstel-pInK television mounts on the wall.

The door closes with a faint click. You sink into the cushions of the office chair. Vox’s yapping bore you. It was probably some man-child debate about the new extermination date.

Although . . . those serialized dramas he produces, sadly, are interesting enough to be consumed. If asked for your honest opinion, you’d tell them that they were a hot pile of smelly garbage, but you like to leave it playing mindlessly in the background.

Your husband will throw the television out the window the first chance he’ll get.

Too bad he’s occupied.

You grab a piece of paper from the drawer. Management is forcing you to write a thousand-word formal apology. There are about three-hundred words left to write.

Getting caught dissecting the dead bodies from the morgue is a mistake that won’t be repeated. One dead body and suddenly those lazy fuckers have diligence weaved into their DNA.

The body was already dead, and it’s not every day a chance to poke around a chimera’s entrails appears.

The sinner would contribute to something meaningful at least. You’re stuck on clinic duty until you dot your last sentence, and not a moment before

The coffee’s cold now, but consumable.

You reach across the desk, feeling for the knob of the radio. You twist until you feel the clink. Music fills the air—the same twenty-five songs on a loop. You stare at the radio for a moment. Just . . . a small . . . single moment.

 . . . On your kitchen counter, that second cup of coffee should be cold by now. It’s always cold when you trudge through the door. It’s been cold and untouched for years.

Yet, without fail, that second cup you brew will always be waiting for its owner.

“Salutations!” You snap your head to the radio. “Good to be back on the air.”

Huh? The feather on your hair preens. You swipe the radio, your hold on it feather-light.  You turn the knob responsible for volume. The static noise stings your eardrums.

“—ile since someone with style treated hell to a broadcast. Sinners rejoice!”

Murmurs erupt outside your door. You blink and find yourself slamming it open. One foot after another, one step after the other, brings you closer to the television. Your shoulder throbs when you bump into someone, but you keep pushing until you see Vox and his tacky suit enlarged on the screen.

“What a dated voice!”

A reply comes from the radio. “Instead of a clout-chasin’ mediocre video podcast.”

Your feather rises higher. Laughter escapes your lips, it leaves a dry taste. That . . . that ṁ̵̭͔̲̙̦͎̝̜̲̠͙͇̂̏̃̐̂̓̊̂̕̕o̴̢̭̝̙̤̬͚͐̅͗̌̇̂̌̕ţ̷̛̝̂̿h̶̯̟̙̲̘̟̟͙͔̔̋͊̋̿̐͘͜͜ę̶̗̰͔̫͔̗̝̘̻̰̓̓̈̊͜r̵̨̂̏f̶͖̻̱̺͕̹̫̭̠̚u̸̬̺̯̟̦͖̅̂́́̌̚͝ć̴̖͙̰͈͕̉͌̈́́̈̔̀̉̍́͜͠ḳ̴̨̧̗̫̗͖̞̟̑͌̂̀̈́̀͆͒ę̷̛͓̼̟͍̆̆́͆̾͛͝r̵̹̮̤͓̗̹̈́̎̉͌̾͌̏͑̋̚͝.

“Doctor!” Tagatha screeches when she spots you. “I am so sorry. I’ll bring in the next one right away!”

Your eyes are trapped by the screen and your ears by the radio. “It’s alrig—”

Tagatha grabs the closest person to her and shoves you back into the clinic. The door slams shut just as everything goes dark and silent. (Well, it’s not completely dark, once your eyes adjust you can still see as if the lights were open. Another small perk to this body). Your radio, along with the power, stopped working.

“Oh my!” Your new patient bleats.

“We have generators,” you find yourself saying. “I’m sure the power will come on in a minute.”

The cushions of the chair do little to ease your nerves. You pat your hair, trying to get it in control. A pile of feathers starts forming on the PASTEL-FUCKING PINK FLOORS. T̴̹̜͇̅̅͗͜H̶̰̗̄Ơ̶̡̡̻̗͖̋̎̓̓S̴̨͉̝̻͋̽̆́͆Ẹ̸̡̢͐͐͠ ̷̨͚̞̙̀͒̆̆͊Ŭ̵͕̲̪͇͓͐̚G̷̹̝̦̬͊͒Ḷ̶̭͓̎̏̈͘Y̶͇̟̍̉̚ ̷̟͎͕̞͂͑̂̇À̶͉̍̄̈̚S̸͖̖͕͑̏͛̈́S̶͚̤̼̯̀ ̶̻͆P̷̬̝̉Ä̵͕́͊̌S̸̢͍̆̓͝Ṫ̸͖̲̠̾̉͜͝E̷̺͆L̷͖̏͐́͝ ̶̛̟̽͝P̷̪̔͜I̴̹̥̹͖̮͒́̏͘N̸̳̙̼̾̆̿Ķ̶̟̞̜̉͊̓̂̚ ̵͈̬̃̿̄̈́̋F̵̨̨̼̫̘͘L̸̙̠͎̓̆́O̷̧̘͚͉̤̓O̷̤̟̱̼̤͋̍͐R̷̰̝̓͌̌Ș̵̲̝̈́ “Excuse me?” You will paint this room red with the blood of management.  You tap your foot again, and again, and again. “ . . .Doctor?”

Your neck snaps in her direction, eyes wide and staring.

“The . . . uh . . . the lights are back.”

You blink at your patient—huh, she’s a goat. “I apologize,” you say, smiling. “Please, tell me, what brings you here in this hellish afternoon.”

She holds up her bleeding arm. “It’s been like this since the extermination,” she explains. “Some angle got me. Luckily, I was able to run off before I was finished. I thought it would heal on its own like it usually does but it just hasn’t. It keeps bleeding.”

“Well, angel-induced injuries are my specialty,” you say. Tucked away to the side, a mirror hangs. You catch your reflection, and you blow your hair away from your vision, your red sclerae “This will cost you. Injuries caused by angels are . . . difficult to stitch, but not impossible—not for me at least.”

“Oh, yes.” She bleats one more “Dear God, where are my manners? I’m sorry can I ask for your name?”

Your smile widens. “Of course. I’m—"

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“Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you. Quite a pleasure!” One hand reset on his chest, and the other shoots into the air. It’s the bow you did in high school, back when you wanted theater to pay your bills. A performer’s bow.

You chuckle. “I don’t think it will be quite the pleasure you think.”

“Is that so?” Alastor’s smile remains constant. “And why would that be?”

You show him the tray you’re holding. “I’m here to do your sutures.” He steps closer to take a peek. You watch him as his eyes gloss over your matches then your needle driver, then the alcohol lamp. His smile wobbles when he lands on the syringe.

You move the tray, dropping it down on the little cart by the examination chair.

“There’s no need to worry.” You beam at him. “I have the steadiest hands in this city.”

“Hmmmm,” he says. “You must be the other doctor then.”

“Not at all.” You point to your uniform, where the initial ‘NP’ is embroidered next to your name. “Just the nurse practitioner.”

He takes a closer look and reads your name. “Then I have no reason to fret. None at all! In my experience, doctors usually have their noses buried in their books. It’s the nurses that actually get the hands-on experience.” Alastor’s hands move when he talks. “What’s such a talented practitioner doing in such a dinged-up clinic?”

“Management caught me in the morgue dissecting the dead—It’s how I practice my stitches.”

“Really, now?”

You bark a laugh. “Not at all—I’m far too smart to get caught.”

“A witty sense of humor and a steady hand! I am in good hands, indeed.”

You take a seat on the rolling stool. “Yes, yes,” you say, waving your wrist. “You make fine compliments, Sir. I’ll be sure to be extra gentle.” You point towards the examination chair. “But, please hurry to the chair. You’re dripping blood on my floor.”

Alastor glances down. His eyebrows furrow as he glares at where the blood seeps from his sleeve . . . almost . . . almost as if he’s angry. “My apologies,” he says, allowing his blood to drip to the floor.

Alastor shrugs off his coat. It’s rare to see such a dark red—only a few choose such a color. You hum. Alastor is a well-dressed gentleman. Lovely. Those are your favorite kind. He drapes his coat over the spare chair, ignoring the coat racks the clinic provides.

You turn away and wheel yourself closer to one of the drawers on the counter. It takes two attempts until you find the stash of sterile gloves. “Take your seat when you’re ready,” you say. “I’ll take a look once you are.” You place the gloves on the little green cart, right next to your tray.

Alastor takes his seat, landing with an audible ‘humph’. He smiles at you, sleeves rolled and arm ready. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

You hold your palm out. “May I?”

His smile wobbles—it’s a small change in expression that you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t looking. “Of course.”

Along his forearm, a long and sharp cut wounds him. The sight of grime that covers the opened abrasions makes you inwardly cringe. You need to clean these as soon as possible. “Why was this not checked sooner?” You rest his hands on the armrest and use your foot to bring the cart closer. “This looks old, and not at all like a freshly deep cut. I prefer it when patients come to me with fresh wounds.”

You grab a bowl with distilled water and pour in a sterile solution. “I assumed it would heal on its own,” he tells you. “It was quite a surprise when it did not.”

“I need to clean this before you die of infection.” You dip his arm into the bowl. He remains silent, but you feel the tension of his muscles under your fingers. “Hopefully there will be no next time, but just in case, next time, please don’t wait a month.”

He laughs, and there, you faintly see it—a twitch in his eye. “It was only a week actually.”

You smile to yourself. “I’d prefer it if it was only a few hours.” You dry his arm with a soft towel, his arm still tensed underneath your touch. “There, much better.”  You release your hold to go to a shelf filled with different labeled vials and select the one you need. With the clean syringe, you draw the contents of the vial. “You’ll feel a bit of a pinch,” you say. You tap its side. “It’s morphine— wouldn’t want you screaming and writhing”

You study his face for a second. There’s just that same dismissively polite smile.

“You can look away if you wish,” you tell him. “It’s why we pin such . . . er . . .interesting decorations around. . . . May I?”

You feel it again when Alastor inches his arm closer. His muscles tense under your touch. It’s almost as if he wishes to pull away. You keep your hold feather-light, but firm.

“Are you a hunter by any chance?” you ask. You don’t prick him—not yet. Not when tension coils in your hold.

“You could describe it that way,” he says, chuckling like he’s told a humorous joke. (You don’t understand why.)

“I figured you were.”

Alastor slides his glasses up the bridge of his nose. You inject the morphine into his skin, right inside the soft pink tissue. Good. Alastor relaxes when he speaks, it seems. “I do love a good hunt,” he says. “How ever did you know.”

You release your hold and discard the syringe. “Your hands are rough,” you tell him. “And hunters always have this silly notion that injuries magically heal given enough time—along with farmers, actually. Although, farmers are usually much more deluded.”

He flashes that same polite smile. “I'm guessing you’re not a hunter then?”

“How ever did you know?”

You watch his eyes flicker to your palms as you re-arrange the needles. “Delicate hands.”

You flash the same polite smile right back at him. You take a match, and light the alcohol lamp.

Soap spreads all over your palms and up your arm as you scrub your hands. You slip your hands into the sterilized gloves, careful not to contaminate the surface. “I’ll begin now.”

Alastor hums in reply.

You take a scapple and pass it over the flame. You poke him, lightly, but he doesn’t react. Satisfied, you cut back fibrous tissue underneath the skin. You replace the scapple with a needle driver. There was a quiet click when you pinch the tiny curved needle. You pass it over the flame as well. “Can you do me a favor? Can you tell me how many stars are on that wall over there?

Alastor turns to look at you, but you block his eyes with your palm, shielding him from your stiches.

“The wall isn’t over here.”

“I assure you, I’m not afraid of a silly needle.”

“I’m sure you are,” you say. “However, you’ll forgive me if I don’t take your word for it. The last three people who said that took one look and started squirming. One even fainted. It makes your life miserable, and my job harder.

He counts.

“Out loud please.”

He does as he’s told, rather reluctantly.

Hands steady and determination set, you pierce the soft pink tissue with your needle The tissue nearest to the surface is always delicate. You’re certain not to catch any fat in your suture, for fat dies, and a loose stitch is useless. “Well, isn’t this fun!” he says. “I really feel nothing.”

Your concentration does not break. “I don’t remember there only being twenty-six stars. I’m positive there are more.”

“Why is someone as talented as you only a nurse practitioner?”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a nurse,” you reply, tugging on the needle. “Well . . .we . . . we certainly could be paid more.”

“Why not become an actual doctor then?”

“My father couldn’t afford it. He wouldn’t send me . . . and . . . hmm.” You smoothly pull the suture thread and begin the next stitch. “And I enjoy this.”

He looks down at you. “Is this all you’ll be satisfied with?”

You focus back on your stitching, hiding your glare. You bring your needle underneath the flesh, making sure to catch the soft tissue. You’re doing an uncommon stitch, but it would be a shame to leave a scar. “You sound familiar.”

You pause to look at him, His smile brightens, and it actually looks like a genuine elated smile. “Why, I’m a radio broadcaster. You might have heard me there.”

“Oh yes,” you hum, turning back to your stitching. “Alastor . . . I remember now. The ladies and I listen to your broadcast as we do our crafts.”

“Knitting?”

“I personally prefer embroidery,” you say. “I get to practice my stitching and make beautiful art.” You pull the thread and begin a new one, stitching his skin like they were shoe laces. “You’re quite the humorous gentleman, I must say, and quite a lovely taste in music. We enjoy your broadcast very much”

“Do you have any of your artworks here?” he asks you. “I would be eager to see them.”

“Maybe next time.” You tug the suture, and his laceration snaps to a close. You tie a knot and snip the end. “Unfortunately, I’ve finished your stitches.”

“Next time then.”

You discard your gloves and go back to the shelf with the vials. You fill up another syringe. You jam the needle into his skin, not enough to hurt, just enough to scare him a bit. “To prevent infection.”

He jerks away from you. “What happened to that gentle touch of yours?”

“It’s still a sharp object, Sir. They tend to hurt.” You smirk and carefully clean the remaining blood on the skin around the sutured wound. You take a bandage from your cart and begin wrapping it around his forearm, covering your sutures. “Don’t forget to drink your pills every 8 hours, with a meal in your stomach, preferably. Replace the dressing every three days. You can come back here or if you’re able to do so, you can change them yourself. Any by the good God, please, visit the nearest hospital should this incident repeat.”

Alastor slides off the examination chair. He grabs his coat as if you didn’t just stitch him close. You start packing when you notice him fixing his bow tie, and smoothing his hair. Huh . . .There’s blood on his coat, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Like he’s used to having it there. Like it’s just something he’s learned to live with. “You were wrong by the way.”

“Pardon?”

“It was quite the pleasure to meet you.”

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Next Part |Part 2: Radio Will be Dead if He Doesn't Explain Himself| Hello, welcome to the hell that's been plaguing my head. In case you didn't know Belphegor is the ruler of the sloth ring, and she seems to be in charge of medical-related stuff in Hell. I have the story mostly plotted out, it's just a matter of writing it down. If you have any questions, ask away

[atomicradiogirl]

nobody move my dennis playlist just dropped

[kushnovice]

Spinning My World

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Stark! Reader

Synopsis: Reader tends to the avengers wounds constantly and when Tony opens an emotional wound in the reader, Bucky is there to help.

wc: 2.4k

Warnings: my first bucky fic, medical, wounds, tending to wounds, sibling rivalry, mention of dead parents, fluffy love, slow-burn, hurt/comfort

AN: Female reader, fluffy, lots of mistakes, self indulgent (Pictures are not mine nor are any characters part of this)

What makes the earth go round? to most people it's money, to others it's family. To me, it's love.

I grew up with Tony Stark, my older brother. He was never that big on affection which was something he picked up from our parents and because of that, Tony and I aren't as close as we once were before our parents died. I spend most of my time making sure the house is always put together and cooking food for Tony and Pepper. I always feel a little guilty as I haven't achieved as much as my older brother and living with him and all of his fancy things just rubs it in. I also spend a lot of time studying. Since we have the money, I am attending an Ivy League school online. Unlike Tony, I don't like robots and technology, I prefer to help people. I am majoring in Medical Science as well as minoring in Psychology, which the amount of work is unbearable.

I sigh as I close one of my textbooks, my notebook, and my laptop, leaving them on the desk in my room. I make my through the long winding halls and into the kitchen, the tiles on the floor leaving my feet cold as I walk. I flick on the light as I walk in and take a deep breath, finally feeling at peace. The kitchen was always my safe space since Tony never cooked for himself, neither did any of the avengers. It was my own tiny world of peace.

I smile softly to myself as I make my way to the sink, I start to wash my hands while humming a song. "Friday, can you play (song name)?" As the song starts playing, I feel more comfortable as I start pulling what I would need from the fridge and the cabinets. I then fill up a pot of water and put it on the stove to boil and preheat the oven before I start separating and seasoning the chicken. I then start to cut up some veggies before checking on the pasta that I am making. After everything is cooking, I take the time to dance in the kitchen, just enjoying the music and how it flows through my body. That was until I heard the door open. I jerk my head to see who it is, only to be stunned by the sight in front of me. There he was, the most beautiful creature this world had ever created, but he was drenched in blood. Without thinking, I walk right up to him and start to examine him from what I can see. "Oh buck, what happened this time?" I ask as I eye him up and down for injuries, feeling better after not finding any serious ones. Bucky sighed deeply, "The mission was hijacked. I'm not the only Injured one." I sigh deeply as I take the food out of the oven and put the veggies and sauce into the pasta. Then, without a second thought, i make my way to the medical clinic, which I pretty much run.

I put my coat on and wash my hands again before putting on gloves. I make my way into the emergency room that we have to see Tony laying on a gurney. I immediately start to cut his shirt and pants off as I examine his body, the deep wounds showing no mercy as they continue to bleed. I sterilize the wound and start stitching him up and taking my time to make sure it's perfect.

After a few hours, I was done with making sure Tony was alright and had checked out all of the other team members. I look at the clock and sigh deeply when I realize that it is close to 1 in the morning. I make my way through the winding hallways again and I stand outside of Buckys room. "Hey Buck, are you awake?" I ask softly knowing his super human hearing can pick up my voice, and sure enough because the door unlocks and slides open revealing that he had just got out of the shower. I blush slightly as i try not to stare at his bare chest, "oh um...sorry I was just coming to give you a quick check up..." I shuffle awkwardly at his door but he nods softly and lets me in his room.

The smell of Axe Body spray and Midsummers Night circle the room. I sit Bucky down as I start to stitch up a few of his wounds. It stays mostly silent, neither of us knowing what to talk about until Bucky speaks up, "aren't you tired?" I furrow my eyebrows, "why would I be tired?" Bucky sighs deeply, "we go on these missions almost daily and you're the only one who gives us medical help, isn't it tiring?" I look up from his stitches to smile softly at Bucky, "No, it's not tiring. If anything, it gives me a purpose and makes me a hero like you guys." I giggle to myself at how corny that sounded before going back to stich bucky up.

After I am done, I make sure I didn't miss any dry blood before I stand up, "make sure you eat dinner, I don't know if the others did yet but you need to eat." I smile at him to which he gives me a small smile at the end of his lips. "I did eat already, it was delicious." I smile at him as I watch him put his shirt back on, "good good, I tried a new recipe today so I'm glad it is good." I smile to myself thinking about how Bucky enjoyed my food. "Did you eat yet?" Bucky asks with a furrowed eyebrow and I'm left shocked, normally i'm the one asking that question. "I was about too, then all of that happened," I smile at Bucky but his facial expressions don't change this time. "You really should eat." I nod my head and start to make my way into the kitchen to see a huge mess of plates and bowls and forks all over the place and all of the food gone. "at least they liked it" I smile to myself as I shrug off my coat and take off my gloves, "Friday, some music please" I speak as I start to pick up the plates and bowls and utensil's and place them in the sink. I then pick up all the trash and wipe down the counter while dancing around the kitchen. I spend a few hours cleaning, until it is spotless before I turn off the music and realize I wasn't alone. As I go to grab my coat and turn off the light, I hear a voice, "Aren't you going to eat?" I whip my head around, looking for where the voice came from until I can see Bucky, just outside the door. "there was no more left, i'm glad everyone enjoyed it." I smile at him but he doesn't smile back, he makes his way into the kitchen and starts grabbing stuff. "woah woah woah what are you doing?" I ask as I watch him start up the stove. "You need to eat. More than any of us." Buckys voice is stern and emotionless but I can tell that he cares. "I'm alright, I'll be up in a few hours to cook breakfast anyways." I look at the time and then at Bucky who then turns to me with furrowed eyes again his eyes studying me and trying to figure me out as he looks me up and down. "Why do you cook for everyone? Why do you go out of your way for everyone? I don't get how that benefits you." I sigh deeply, "I don't do it for me, I do it for you guys. You guys are heros and are saving the world every day. the least I can do is cook you guys a warm meal and make sure you guys don't get too hurt." "But why?" Bucky asks as he cracks open an egg and starts to cook it. "You guys deserve it, you deserve the best." I smile at him softly, watching his movements while I think. "Why do you save the world?" I ask while watching his movements. He seems relaxed and calm "Because if I can help save the world then there's hope to save myself." He speaks in a quiet whisper, "why do you save us? why are you so interested in medicine?" He asks with seriousness, trying to understand me better. "I was never taught self defense so I save the world in the only way I know, medicine." Bucky turns to look at me, "you don't give yourself enough credit, no one does." I can hear how he sighs softly. I let myself smile, knowing this was his way of showing he cared. Bucky finished cooking the food and he made two plates, setting one in front of me while he sat across the table from me. He immediately downs his food within seconds leaving me to take awhile to finish my food. When I'm finished eating, I grab our plates and put them in the dishwasher. When i make my way back into the dining room, Bucky is watching me as soon as I enter the room. "What? Is there food on my face?" I jokingly ask, with a smirk on my face as I make my way back to sit down. Bucky snorts softly at my comment, "No, I just don't get how someone could look so pretty after working for so many hours." Buckys voice is soft but his eyes are full of emotion as his hands fold on the table. I feel myself melt under his gaze as my cheeks start to burn, "Oh, uhm...thanks..." I giggle lightly, "You aren't too bad looking for someone who just got stitched up." I reply causing bucky to be taken aback.

"Why are you two up at 2 in the morning?" Tony asks as he walks into the dining room in his black robe that is barely covering his bare chest and his blazers. Tony somehow still has his shades on as well as his slippers on as he sets down some coffee and a sandwich at the table and sits down. "I was just making sure your sister ate after giving everyone medical exams." Bucky replied as he stared blankly at tony as he ate. "Interesting." Tony replied quickly as he started to eat. "I'm glad that your mission didn't go to badly, not many people were injured." I smiled at Tony as I recall the injuries that everyone had got. Tony sighed as he swallowed the food in his mouth, "Do I get bonus points if I act like I care?" I roll my eyes at how immature Tony still is after all of these years. "Somebody's cranky." I snort to myself, Tony glares daggers at me. "Somebody needs to shut up." I smile at Tony, now enjoying fucking with him. "I don't have enough middle fingers to let you know how I feel." I smirk at Tony, thinking I got the better up. "Frankly, I don't care. Just like how he never cared about Mom and Dad. You know who killed them right?" Tony asks as he glares between Bucky and I. "If you're insinuating that Bucky killed our parents then fuck you!" I yell in Tony's face, not able to control my anger as I get up and storm off. Bucky looks at Tony as Tony finishes his sandwich, not purposefully glaring but staring deeply at him causing Tony to get uncomfortable and scramble out of the room.

Bucky sighs deeply as he makes his way to my room, thinking of the right words to say as he ends up right outside of my door. "Hey...I know Tony's words really hurt but I'd like to tell you my story, not what you've heard from files but my life the way I lived it, when I had control of my life." Bucky expected no response honestly, who would want to talk to their parents murderer? Surprisingly the door swung open as Bucky looked in at my small trembling figure on the floor, a pang in his heart caused him to lose his breath seeing her in such pain.

I lift my head to meet Buckys soft eyes as he moves to sit on the bed next to me. His voice was kind but also firm as he told me all about his life, from his time in Brooklyn with Steve all the way through Hydra, he spoke about my parents last almost as if to save me the pain. "Your parents...they were a mission I had to carry out while apart of Hydra, or else I would have died as well as them...I wish I never had too..." Bucky sighs deeply as he looks at the ground. "You don't have to be my friend or even be nice to me, but I just wanted you to know that I never wanted to hurt anyone." Bucky softly got up, expecting to be kicked out before he felt my hands wrapped around his human arm. "I want to be your friend. It hurts knowing that you did that to my parents and I don't think that hurt will ever go away, but I do know that it wasn't you, that you didn't do it on your own will. I forgive you, Buck." I speak softly as I wrap my arms around Bucky's human hand, taking his warmth from him as it comforts my shaking body as I am able to relax into my bed and into Bucky, feeling safe and comfortable for once. I don't remember what happened after that other than my eyes forcing themselves closed as Bucky's mechanical arm softly strokes my hair.

I wake up to the sun shining brightly in my eyes causing me to instantly rub my eyes. I stretch with a small groan, wishing to be asleep still as I reach my arms above my head. I hear a rough chuckle beside me and open my eyes to see Bucky smirking down at me, "Morning, Doll." I feel my face go red at the nickname. I roll over to face him in the bed, "I'm sorry that I kept you here all night." I apologize softly as I yawn the sleepy feeling away. He smiled softly down at me, the golden sun reflecting off of his eyes making it look like tigers eye. "You have nothing to apologize for, darling." He used his fingers to swoop the stray strands of hair out of my face. "It was the best sleep I have gotten in awhile." He confessed as he pulled me a little closer, his body heat keeping me warm as he smiled down at me cheekily. "Don't smile at me like that, you know it drives me crazy..." I giggle at him softly as I place my hand on his face before leaning in. Bucky closed the gap as he took my lips in his, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me in closer as he chuckles into the kiss.

"How else would I make your world spin?"

[bookwormjust]

Burning the Midnight Sun (established relationship with Helion)

The library is quiet, save for the occasional sound of pages turning and your quill scratching furiously across parchment. It’s early morning, and the golden light filtering through the tall windows does little to ease your exhaustion. You’ve been working since dawn, your mind focused on one thing: finding a solution. The epidemic spreading through one of the other courts demands an urgent response, and the healers are relying on your research to develop a medication. You can’t afford to stop, even though your body protests with every passing minute.

Your fingers tremble slightly as you write, the combination of fatigue and hunger gnawing at the edges of your focus. You haven’t eaten today—again. The thought of food barely crosses your mind when there’s so much at stake, and the weight of responsibility presses down on you like an anvil. Your hair, a cascade of rich brown, falls in loose strands around your face, but you don’t bother to push it back. Your eyes, dark and intense, flicker over the ancient texts piled around you, searching for something—anything—that might offer a breakthrough.

You can feel the energy of the sun outside, the source of your mate’s power, warming the world beyond the library, but here, in the cool, quiet space of the archives, you’re locked in your own world of words and alchemical symbols.

Helion’s presence comes to you long before you hear him. His power is like the sun itself, radiant and golden, and you’ve always felt it before he arrives—like a soft warmth that spreads over your skin. But today, you’re too deep in your work to notice, too lost in the formulas and calculations scattered before you. 

A soft knock sounds at the door, followed by the unmistakable sound of it opening. You don’t look up, even as you hear Helion’s familiar footsteps approach. He knows better than to interrupt you when you’re this focused, but that doesn’t stop him from checking on you. He always does.

"Sunshine," his voice is smooth, rich like melted gold, but laced with concern. You hear the amusement in his tone, but also the underlying worry. "Still at it, I see."

You glance up briefly, offering him a tired smile. "There’s still so much to do. The healers need this information *yesterday*, Helion. I’m close—I just need a little more time."

He steps closer, his golden robes rustling softly as he moves. His eyes, bright and warm as the sun at noon, study you with a mixture of affection and concern. You feel his gaze sweep over you, taking in the dark circles under your eyes, the slump of your shoulders, the way your hands tremble slightly from exhaustion. 

"You haven’t eaten today, have you?" he asks, his voice softer now, more serious. He reaches out and gently brushes a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering against your skin. "You’re running yourself ragged, sunshine."

You open your mouth to protest, but the growl of your stomach betrays you. You haven’t eaten since yesterday, and the thought of stopping now feels like surrender. There’s too much at stake, too many people depending on you. 

"I’m fine," you murmur, turning back to the parchment in front of you. "I just need a little more time."

But Helion is not so easily dismissed. He moves to your side, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. The warmth of his touch is grounding, a stark contrast to the cold logic and clinical focus that’s been consuming you for hours.

"You know I love how dedicated you are," he says, his tone teasing but still filled with that same worry. "But even the sun needs to rest."

You lean into his touch, letting out a small sigh. You’re too tired to argue, too worn down by the relentless hours of research. "I just… I need to finish this. People are dying, Helion. I can’t stop."

He kneels down beside your chair, his face level with yours now, his golden eyes softening as he gazes up at you. "And you’ll save them," he says, his voice low and soothing. "But you won’t save anyone if you collapse from exhaustion."

His words cut through the fog of your focus, and you feel the weight of your own fatigue settling into your bones. He’s right, of course. He usually is, when it comes to taking care of yourself. 

"Just take a break," Helion insists, his thumb gently rubbing circles into your shoulder. "Let me take care of you, just for a little while. You’ve done more than enough today."

You hesitate, your eyes flickering back to the notes scattered across the table, but the warmth of his hand, the gentle hum of his power soothing your frayed nerves, makes it hard to resist. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard, and you know it. 

Finally, you nod, the tension in your body easing slightly. Helion’s smile is soft, filled with that familiar warmth you’ve come to rely on. He rises to his feet and gently pulls you up with him. You’re unsteady at first, your legs weak from sitting for so long, but Helion’s hands are there, steady and reassuring.

"Come on, sunshine," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Let’s get you some food. Then you can get back to saving the world."

You let him lead you away from the desk, your body leaning into his warmth, grateful for his presence. Helion always knows when to step in, when to remind you that even the brightest lights need rest. And as tired as you are, you know that with him by your side, you’ll find the strength to finish what you started.

[cameronspecial]

Let Me Handle It, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  Blackmailing, Being Sick, Threatening to Kill Someone, Mentions of An Affair

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.0K

Summary: Y/N stresses about not being able to take a test after missing it because she is sick, but good thing Rafe is here to help.

Masterlist

He can hear tiny sniffles coming from inside of his room. He opens the door to see the wet globs coming from her eyes and the tiny shrivel of her nose confirms his assumption that she is crying. Her hand tugs at the opposite sleeve of his oversized hoodie that she wears. As soon as their eyes lock, he rushes to sit on the bed and pulls her onto his lap. “What’s wrong, my sweet angel?” he coos, unsticking her hair from the wet trail on her face it attached itself to so that he can look into her eyes. She takes a second to steady her breathing, “Y-you kn-know how I had that test today, but I’ve been puking all week so I couldn’t go?” He nods his head for her to continue. “Well, I emailed my professor at the beginning of the week asking if I could do it another day. He said that I would need to show him a doctor's note before the end of the day for that to happen. I tried telling him that I tried everything all week to get one, but my doctor doesn’t have a free appointment, the clinic can’t give me one because they aren’t my regular doctor and the hospital won’t even see me. So, now, I’m going to lose 20% of my mark because I was sick.” 

Rafe listens carefully to her little rant, growing angry at each hoop his sick girlfriend had to go through just to get something as trivial as a redo test. She had been studying every chance she could get, even through her sickness. Rafe knows how serious Y/N is about her grades and school. After all, she needs some great grades to get into grad school. He would never think twice about losing 20% of his grade because all he wants to do is pass the class, which is perfectly doable without that. However, Y/N, especially with her anxiety, needs every percent she can get and Rafe wasn’t going to let some old shit with a stick up his ass stop her from doing so. “It’s going to be okay. Let me handle it, angel,” he assures, kissing her temple. 

——

The line to the professor’s office is three people deep. All of them are waiting to enter for his office hours, but Rafe is not going to take the chance of not talking to him. He stares down the first guy in line and walks to the front of the line. From the guy’s smell, he must be an engineering major. No one says anything about Rafe’s actions because he has a well-known reputation on campus. The door opens to the office and Rafe doesn’t wait for the student inside to walk out. The wrinkles on the professor’s forehead crate a v, a frown falling onto his face. “I don’t believe you are in any of my classes,” he states, trying to pinpoint if he has seen Rafe in any of his lectures. Rafe shakes his head in a low chuckle, “No, I am not, Professor Smith. But my girlfriend is. You may remember her from the email you sent her, Y/N Y/L/N.” “Ah, yes. I do remember her. Unless you have the doctor's notes or are a doctor, then I am afraid I can’t do anything. It’s not my fault she didn’t plan accordingly,” Smith comments, not looking up from his laptop. 

Rafe closes the teacher’s laptop. This causes the man to look at him and he gives him a threatening smile. “I’m sorry to say that I don’t have any notes. But my angel won’t be needing one,” he sings, running his finger along the desk. The elder’s head tilts, “Really? And why would that be?” Rafe’s grin turns almost psychotic.

“Because I know a little secret about where you like to spend your Sunday nights. I have a lot of photographic evidence that I’m sure the university and your wife would love.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Let’s not play this game. My frat brother also likes to visit the little lady you like to have a dalliance with and he told me everything she told him. If that doesn’t convince you, then maybe the piece in my nightstand drawer will.”

The bob of the professor’s Adam’s apple is very evident, “Are you trying to blackmail me?” 

“Nice to see you finally caught up on what is going on. Now, are you going to do what I asked?”

Smith looks at Rafe with wide eyes and the points of his lips stretch. He can see the seriousness on Rafe’s face. His head gives a small nod, “Y-yes. I think I can do something for Ms. Y/L/N.” “That’s great. Let’s type her a nice apologetic email. And if you even think about telling anyone about this, then you might just find yourself six feet under,” Rafe intimidates, reopening the laptop for the professor. 

——

Wind passes through her hair as she makes her way towards Rafe. Her smile rivals the sun and she jumps into his arms. Her legs wrap around his waist. He grips the back of her thighs to keep her up. “What has you so happy, my angel? Only I’m allowed to do that,” Rafe complains, peppering kisses all over her face. She giggles at the assault of his lips, “Professor Smith let me redo the test without a doctor’s note. I got a 100%.” Rafe lets out a cheer, spinning her around. “That’s so great! You work so hard. I’m so proud of you, angel,” he praises. She gives her his thanks as she tells him in detail about her test, talking about how she figured out a question she got a little stuck on. He nods and listens, spotting the professor out of the corner of his eye. Professor Smith becomes frightened and he quickly looks away from Rafe. He smirks at the professor’s reaction, returning his full gaze to his girl.

[kittyscupcakeandbunny]

CRAZY OVER YOU x MIN YOONGI

[HYBRID AU]

18 +

PART 6

Take Me Home

Side Characters: Namjoon/doctor, Seokjin/doctor, Taehyung/Hybrid Tiger, Jungkook/Hybrid Bunny, Hoseok/Assistant medical.

Warnings: Smut, mentions of blood, sharp objects, rut, beast behavior, medical experiments, medical procedures and curse words, suicide attempt (not detailed only mentioned).

Word count: 12k

Status: finished

Genre: Fantasy, hybrids au, smut.

SUMMARY》 Yoongi is a black mamba hybrid one of rarest species of hybrids, who’s about to be put down due to his lack of interest in living. But everything changes after the new medical assistance (y/n) takes a liking to him. Meeting after meeting he realise his feelings for her are not the only thing growing.

< previously Final >

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. .

Hybrids lived between us in our human society for a decade already, it was nothing new our society’s view of them had changed dramatically over this years. It wasn't something that stared out positively, at first many people thought the hybrids were some kind of alien and not so surprisingly feared them to the core. it was more of a understanding that was needed in order for us to change our view of the unknown. I was one of the few people who decided to fallow this path, i knew it wouldn't be easy but i had Jin beside me and he played a big part into the reason i became a doctor of special beings. I loved every part of my job as a doctor at the clinic. For years nothing has ever shocked me ever since i began my own work here, having spent almost my whole life working with Jin we grew up together here. No one could understand me better than him.

Shocked? That was an understatement.

To say the least i could nearly put any thought into sense. My mind seemed to still be under process after he spilled the most outrageous thing he could to me, i could feel my entire body run cold under his stare. I was hoping this was some kind of joke of his, the moment couldn't be more perfect for it - right? - but the more i searched in his eyes the more worried i became, there was no shade of entertainment on his features and it hit me like a brick in the head, he was completely serious about this.

Mouth opening and closing repeatedly as no words came out of my lips.

What was there to say?

He just claimed that the impossible had happened.

As much as i would like to believe in him, the situation just didn't make any sense. Many studies had shown how hybrids couldn't impregnate a human, one would think that as hybrids that would be a false affirmation since they were "half humans" but although they had human DNA their bodies the cell's structure that differed them to us were well… completely ‘different’, with both DNAs in their genes their animal genes "treated" the human genes almost like 'pollution' once in contact with another's "pure" human genes. Once a hybrids human DNA is a genetic modification of our DNA, for a hybrid and say a "pure" human to be able to conceive another being it was like mixing oil and water, they simply don’t mix together. I remember being disgusted at one class in medical university were that topic was first brought to me - the thought of humans searching for such possibility mean some people wanted to have such relations with the hybrids and all i could think about was the negative side of that - it was said that many exams and tests were done with hybrids to make sure they could be increased in number but after many years of research the hybrids simply didn't responded to any tests with humans, we simply didn't catch their radar to say the least.

The informations about the very first hybrid was also something no one knew about it, we just knew they are here now and have been for years already.

I had my conclusion in that moment that Jin was completely out of his mind and probably lying about this.

I could feel Jin's hands slowly began to let go of my shoulders sliding them down, he looked down before taking a step back.

- what? - I breathless said, almost not recognizing my own voice.

- I know is crazy but... - he nervously said, running his hand through his hair.

- Crazy? Jin do you have any idea what you are implying here? - i ask him completely staggered.

- I know but.... - he sighted - i found records for old experiments done...

- Jin why didn't you told me before? Why would you wait so long and just spill everything over me now out of all time? - i could feel myself getting heated, none of this was making sense and things had just gotten more complicated now.

- I'm sorry y/n.... I heard what you and Yoongi were talking about and... - his words brought heat to my face, embarrassed I looked anywhere but him - to be honest I've been noticing how you both were acting and I knew something was up.

- Jin, shit I don't even know what to tell you.

Here i thought i was being smarter when he knew everything all along, i was beginning to wonder if anyone else had notice anything going on with me and Yoongi and that thought brought Hoseok into my mind. I knew he’s been very skeptical about Yoongi and it made me question if it could’ve been because he knew about us.

- Is okay, y/n… i know what kind of person you are and i trust you wouldn’t do anything that could compromise the hybrids safety - he replied softly - I'm happy Yoongi has you by his side actually.

- Why would you be okay, though? I just broke the protocols, i.. i don’t know what I'm supposed to do to be honest Jin - i finally tell him.

- i can let this slide this time specially since i don’t have any right to judge you, when my father went against the rules I couldn't do anything to stop him before and I didn't even knew Yoongi was my... - he sighted - I didn't even knew I had a brother.

I looked up to meet his eyes feeling as the weight of the world went down over my shoulders, we both have been through so much in this past week and I couldn’t even begin to imagine what Jin must’ve been through all by himself. Finding out you have a brother who’s not even human and how your own father went overboard bad towards him for years torturing him, i can’t imagine which was worst to him and as his friend i couldn’t help but feel somewhat bad for not knowing to support him.

- Oh Jin, - i reached to hold his hand, holding it tightly before continuing - I understand you and i know you must feel like shit now but you should've told me that, you know you can always talk to me.

- I was planning on it and it definitely wasn't going to be like this but, you guys were getting intimate there and Namjoon just texted me saying he's coming to help with Yoongi - he explained softly - I thought you wouldn't want to have him find out like that.

Once he was done explaining i was the one feeling completely dumb, of course Namjoon would be coming soon. I should've thought about it before making any more decisions that could affect both Yoongi and me, my emotions got the best of me in the heat of the moment. I was once again blaming myself for being well… human, in some way i felt so weak when it came to Yoongi it was so unfair honestly how such a being like him ended up having so much power over me. I had tried so hard ever since i first meet him, it was unethical to let such feelings as “love” rise for a hybrid in a place where i was supposed to care for him, professionally.

But the heart wants what it wants, the most irrational and innocent thing a human can do is “love” and to love and be loved are things some can only experience once in a life time, some get to love and some get to be loved. To have both is a treasure.

It felt crazy to me but i no longer wanted to hide my feelings for i had no bad intentions, so unfair how my heart choose Yoongi to love.

Now this entire situation with Jin and Yoongi, I couldn't figure out what i was supposed to do.

- God this is crazy - I leaned on the wall, a long sight leaving me lips.

Nothing was making any sense anymore, I couldn't believe anything Jin was saying and i just couldn't find the background for it to make any sense in my mind. Amidst that i found the courage to ask the thing that was almost burning my head in confusion.

- how are you two... related?

Jin gave me a knowing look before taking his place beside me on the wall, after a long breath he looked up at the ceiling before talking.

- My mom once fell in love with a hybrid too.

His mom?

Jin never talked about her, i only knew what everyone else knew at the clinic. That she had left a long time ago when he was very young so he grew up with his dad, having no contact what so ever with his mom afterwards.

- Oh. I thought you didn't knew her very well, you said she left when you were younger right? - i asked.

- Yeah, but recently I've been doing some research on Yoongis case since i needed to collect proof that my dad was taking advantage of his powers at the clinic and to finally take my father away from the clinic - a sight left his lips.

I was surprised to hear that he would be taking legal action against his father, no matter what he did he was still his dad after all. I couldn't say i wasn't happy about it thought, if we keep letting things like this slip out it will only grow bigger and end in the most unfortunate ways.

- Jin... - i looked at him from my side, this whole time he seemed to be doing fine but now that i took a good look over his features, i could see the tiredness at the lines of his face the eye bags begging to form.

- I know but this has to be done, he needs to pay for what he did to my brother.

- Well I can't argue with that - i looked at the wall in front of me, the emptiness of it and no traces of color did nothing to help my overthinking - is that why you've been trying to help Yoongi this whole time?

- Yeah... I was searching for old documents since everything started years ago we had no updated data of treatment or what so ever of him and I found ... my mother's diary - he paused for a moment before a small smile filled his face turning to look at me - her story reminded me of you two. She meet a black mamba hybrid who was brought here for recovery and he hated everything and everyone too... except her.

- Well that does ring a bell or two… - I shyly looked away for a moment. Thinking of Yoongi and it seemed the grumpiness runs in the family.

- I'm sure you must be wondering how this was even possible - he said, i nodded at him finally the one million question - trust me i too have no idea.

- What? But how do you know he truly is your brother?

- I have the documents of her pregnancy with him, all the exams she took at that time… everything leads to him - he said, a dark cloud surrounding his soft features this time - she was part of the research about hybrids and humans being able to reproduce and... she succeeded, with no one knowing.

Once again i was punched with shock right in the gut, completely dumbfounded. For years I studied the same theory at university and years complimented by my colleagues how assertive my assignments on the impossibility of humans and hybrids reproducing for today, i be proven wrong.

- I couldn't find anything on the research though, it seems everything about how she was able to have Yoongi disappeared - Jin continued, i could already feel the engines on my head burst open as i took in every words coming from his mouth - i found some of my fathers old records it says that after some time she couldn't bear the child anymore and had some problems with the pregnancy and due to that she had to give birth to him too soon.

- I see, so regardless of the impossible being possible she did end up having complications to bear a hybrid - i said, the engines in my head no longer bursted open but begin to work out.

- Yes, he had to be put in a incubator - as he said that he furrowed his eyebrows a clouded expression on his tired features - I remember when i was younger she came home sick and for months she didn’t even left her bed, in that time she never told me anything but it seemed my father only found out about my brother when she was rushed to the emergency that time. When she couldn't hide anymore.

- So she was doing this and no one knew about it? - i asked shocked - it makes no sense, how could hide such thing?

- It wasn’t for long actually, a normal pregnancy would take almost a year but, she mentioned in her diary how it seemed to be moving faster then a normal human pregnancy i’m certain it was due to the hybrids advanced genes and after three months the complications begin to grow and she couldn't hide anything anymore.

Complications would be bound to happen, from years of research on that matter nothing was positive from the begging of a hybrid pregnancy and many complications were reported after the tests. We were not made to carry a hybrid being, our human bodies can only afford to give much and a hybrid requires more then a human body can offer. It goes beyond anything we know.

At the end of the day it doesn't matter how many tests and research we do, we still know very little about them.

- What happened to Yoongis father?

- He was... put down after my father found out. It truly was a miracle that mom got Yoongi and it doesn't make any sense but I have a few theories - he said, making me smile at him. That was the Jin i knew, always having a few cards under his sleeve - I have to do some research to be sure thought.

- I see.... Oh my god Jin, how have you been going through all of this alone?

- I don't know I was just hopeful. I have a brother who doesn't seem to like me much but is okay - he just brushed it off.

- That’s not true, Jin I'm sure he likes you deep down he's just .... - i paused, mind finally putting thoughts of the snake hybrid together - he feels a bit threatened, i think it might be because of me.

- Oh, that's why? I understand he must feel that way specifically since you're human and not a hybrid like him, he must duel between his feelings and instincts as you’re different then him.

I nerves once thought about it like that, I had been so caught up on my own thoughts and emotions I didn’t even thought for a moment how that situation could be affecting Yoongi. Of course things wouldn’t be exactly easy for him, he had a completely different perspective of our relationship then i did. But all I did was judge based on his hybrid personality i didn’t think for a moment he would be so considerate of me for I’m just human.

- is unusual for it to happen like that? - Jin muttered, pausing for a second as if noticing what he said - for like both sides?

- I know, we are away from being normal - i gave him a slight nudge on his side, trying to ease the tension.

- I just wanted you to know that it had happen before - he confessed.

- What exactly?

- Hybrids and humans - he said - Yoongi is proof that is okay if hybrids and humans love each other. After all they deserve it too right?

- I'm just... I don't know Jin, I've been told my whole life it wasn't normal it feels weird now but, I...i love him.

- I'm glad you feel this way about him, he never got the chance to meet mom so I'm truly happy you are the one taking care of him.

- yeah, they do.

His words brought a comfort to my heart i knew i was needing, I’ve been feeling so guilty over my feelings for Yoongi even now that i knew he felt the same way about me. Everything felt so different, like something so far away from reality it certainly does not feel like a normal day and I was sure it wouldn’t even from years from now.

Especially when you spend half your life learning about this beings and grow a career to help them, everything seemed impossible at first that a possibility was never once considered, but now even as i was in the eye of the hurricane i still couldn't believe that it was happening.

- Also, Namjoon will be here soon so you should go back in and calm Yoongi - Jin said, leaning away from the wall to stand in front of me watching me with a apologetic face - I'm afraid you guys can't go farther than a few kisses for a while.

- Shit Jin! - i exclaimed, cheeks burning in heat as i hit him in the shoulder many times - How much did you heard!?

- Don't worry. You perverted girl, he is my brother I couldn't watch that - he made a disgusted face - you should be thanking me, I was the one who turned everything off before anyone else could see it.

- Yah... oh god this is so weird now - i held my temples, trying to calm myself from more embarrassment as he just stood there laughing - but I'll go check on him.

- Maybe we should give him suppressants for a while.... - Jin contemplated.

- Yeah....

- We should talk about this later in particular - he mentioned.

- Yes, also shouldn’t we tell Namjoon? - asked him, just now i realized how Namjoon has literally been out of everything this whole time from the beginning and made me feel bad about it.

- I guess so since... I've some things in mind, it will be weird if he only finds out later - he continues.

- Yeah, wait what things? - i asked.

- I'll explain to you when we get to talk alone later.

- Oh god there's more.... - I mumble - Don't leave me out again thought!

- I won’t.

- Will you come in with me? - I sighted, looking over Yoongis door room - since... brothers?

- Oh no, for the sake of my eyes i won’t - he said lifting up his hands in defeat.

- Ya! I wasn’t- you little... - I immediately stoped as he only chuckled over my embarrassment - wait here and don’t let Namjoon enter before i make sure Yoongi is.. you know what.

- Wouldn't interrupt the love birds, you don’t have to worry.

At that i gave him once last slap on the head before turning on my heel back to Yoongis room.

I had to take a few breathes before entering the room, i had no idea how i would go from now. Things were not what they used to, i still had to process all about the new information Jin just dumped over me - Yoongi being Jin's brother. That didn't change my feelings for him though, but it brought some clarity to my thoughts and it made me realize that Jin was just trying to be there for Yoongi and despite all he still considered him his family.

I desperately wanted him to know everything but it didnt felt like it was my place to let him know Jin was his brother, that he has a family. The more I questioned that the more convinced I was that now wouldn’t be the best time to tell him, especially with everything that happened between Yoongi and his father. For now i would let that slide so Jin can be the one to tell him the truth, my only concern in that moment was how am i supposed to tell Yoongi the grumpy snake hybrid we cannot mate?

With a long sigh i entered the room, the door never felt heavier then now and i didn't know if it was all in my head but his room didn't felt as warm as usual.

- why did it took you so long...? - his voice was low and groggy sounding drunk almost.

I had to swallow hard, my body immediately responded to his presence feeling the heat embrace ever centimeter of skin under my clothes, heart racing the closer I got to him as my eyes took in his figured lying lazily over the mess of covers. It clearly did not look like that before and I felt the realization hit me in a big wave of heat. Oh, damn he was making that nest again.

- sorry, i didn't mean to... - i said, carefully approaching the hybrid.

- Hum... - he slowly sit straight at the edge of the bed, chest exposed by his opened shirt his face was slightly red, lips swollen and he looked me up with lazy eyes.

Something about his heat made him look so dreamy it was hard to concentrate on anything else when he looked like that, I tried my best to stay focused on the matter at hands which was to make him take the suppressants and cut off the mating process quickly and efficiently but, i find out that would be more difficult now that i have him in front of me then a few seconds ago before entering the room.

I continued to swallow hard, heart rate gone loose like a mad horse on an empty field. He looked so heavenly now I wanted to eat him whole, my eyes couldn't stop running to every corner of his exposed skin and his beautiful scales. The small coat of sweat over him made his skin shine even more, it was unreal how enchanting he looked. How unfair.

i didn’t know how much time i had until Namjoon got here so i kept a good distance between me and him. I'm afraid if i took another step he won't make it any easier to me - not that I would mind and that was exactly why I needed that space.

Another hard swallow from me the second he turned his head slightly to the side, eyes staring at me curiously up and down. A frown formed on his face when he realized i wasn't moving any closer, by now i was sure he knew something was going on.

- if you have something to tell me... - he began, eyes staring down at the floor between sounding almost desperate as he looked up in my eyes - come closer and do it, I can't stand you being this far away from me.

I could feel my breath burning inside my chest at his words, the second his eyes moved back to mine i was already making my way towards him. That was honestly all it took from him to have me completely at his mercy, I felt deep in myself how much I couldn’t also stay away from him. Sitting beside him carefully, I felt my body heat up even more wanting so bad to just let myself go and let his arms embrace me into his body, i nervously looked at his hands on his lap biting hard on my bottom lip as if that would bring any relief to my nervous self.

- what is it? Do you… not love me anymore? - he said, almost running out of breath on his words.

I instantly moved closer to him, taking his hands into mine.

- how could you say that…. - i assure him, breathlessly as he stole my words - I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have feelings for you, Yoongi.

- Then what is it? - he asked, face slowly softening as I called his name.

- Things have gotten a bit complicated... - i tell him, he turned completely to face me worried growing on his soft features.

- Why? That Jin director won't let you be with me? - anger showed clear over his soft features, chest moving up and down faster as he spat the words showing his clear discomfort by the other male.

If i didn’t knew they were brothers i would have view this situation differently but, now that i know everything i couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction which gain me a confused look from the snake hybrid.

- Actually... he doesn't mind at all - i tell him, seeing as how his face changed so fast at my words he looked even more confused now and it made me chuckled again.

- He doesn't? - he mumbles, blinking confused.

- Jin just wanted to let me know that...

- I don’t care what he said.

He didnt let me finished, interrupting me mid sentence. Hands holding my wrists he moved so fast i bearly had any chance to properly process what he was doing until it was too late, my hands were held above my head and he pined me down on the bed straddling my waist.

I could feel his fast breathing over my lips and just like before his skin burned over mine, i immediately felt my body gave in his touch knowingly and in complete defeat - i knew I shouldn't have gotten closer to him.

Namjoon could get here anytime now and stoping a hybrid in heat wasn't easy especially when you were caged under him and every cell in your body longes for his touch, so painfully desperate for him.

- wait... Yoongi? - i tried to call out for him but no effect at all.

I know trying to stop him would be harder even more as my will to stop him was also compromised, as he looked down at me with so much desire and wet lips brushing so closely over mine.

- I need you... - he mumbled, leaning down on my neck.

No. Not the neck.

But he knew already all my weak spot’s which made it all worse and so good at the same time, I immediately felt my body shake underneath his at the feeling of his warm wet tongue over the skin of my neck.

He groaned in pleasure holding my wrists tighter, it was getting more and more difficult to resist.

- Wait please, yoongi - i call out again, this time he stopped his movements looking back into my eyes.

- What? Did i made you uncomfortable? - he said, apologetic.

- No it's just... Namjoon is coming and he'll be here anytime soon - i explained - we can't do this now.

- I understand... but this is not something i can control y/n, you should've thought about this before coming here and bitting me - he said, letting go of my wrists.

- I know, i know... - I carefully held his face caressing his cheek with my thumbs - I'm sorry... i don't meant to hurt your feelings, i want this just as much as you do but...

- The others don't understand... - he whispers.

- They don’t.

- What do we do now.... - he murmured over my lips - how are you gonna take responsibility for doing this to me?

If it wasnt for the smirk on his lips and the playfulness in his voice, I would think he was serious in that moment but i knew it was the opposite and as much as i wanted to comply to his wishes we couldn't do nothing for now.

Not knowing if we would ever get that chance, I simply pushed my lips over his kissing him desperately as if his lips were water and I've been locked away without a single drop of it. My thirst for him was eternal.

- make sure i pay you back - i tell him, chest rising up and down against each other.

- I will.... - he promised.

He got up from above me holding a hand out for me to get up, once i did he closed his other arm around me waist. Making me look up into his eyes, he stared into mine nervously almost as if he had been caught on a lie.

I just giggled at his reaction.

- please don't tell me you'll make me suffer more by going on heat alone - he pleaded.

- What if i do? - i playfully teased, earning a serious look from him as i made my way towards the small cabinet with medical supplies.

I wouldn’t let him go through it knowing how painful it could be, for now he would be under a small dose of suppressants until we know what to do.

- if you do... - he said fallowing behind me - I'll take you now....

For the second time he had spin me around completely taken me by surprise, holding my body tightly against his. I couldn't tell before but now it seemed his heat was getting more intense as if he wasn’t before, his usual dark eyes had a more yellow color around it, his cheeks were red and his fangs were more noticeable this time.

I could tell he was getting on the edge of losing from his finger tips tightening on my waist painfully, it could be really difficult if it gets too intense.

- no matter who enters this room... - he whispered over my lips - I'll make you mine.

- I won't do anything to hurt you - I whisper back, it seemed to be enough to wake him up from the trance.

He smiled softly eyes closing slowly and opening, he was breathing through his mouth a few drops of sweat sliding down the sides off his head to his neck. Yoongi has been holding his heat for days now, i couldn’t even imagine how uncomfortable this must feel for him and it made me feel bad for starting this but the situation calls for a pause now.

Feeling his fingers slowly lessen the grip on my waist letting go of me, I turned around to get him the suppressants quickly preparing a small dose of suppressant on a syringe before turning back to him.

- this will work faster so you don’t have to suffer tonight - i explain.

- Ok... - he took off his shirt completely before I even ask, for a moment I thought he was only being helpful but the sly smirk on his lips told me otherwise

He was doing it on purpose to provoke me, knowing very well how on the edge I was.

- And you were afraid of me teasing - I mumbled, he chuckled as i inserted the needle into his arm.

- Is good to know you're affected by me - he said, I quickly disposed of the syringe before turning back to him.

- How could i not? You...

Before i can finish the door is burst opened by a nervous Namjoon and a confused Jin fallowing right behind him.

- y/n are you okay? - Namjoon rushed to me - sorry i left so quickly.

I looked over to Jin who gave me a small smile then at Namjoon who shares his stare between me and the hybrid.

- she's fine.. i didn't eat her - he said to the male, double sense dripping from his lips through his smirk as he began to dress into his shirt.

My cheeks immediately went hot a low chuckle coming from Jin which he quickly tried to cover up by looking away, the situation was somewhat different now heaving the brothers in the same room sharing the same joke.

It made me feel at ease.

- I'm fine, Yoongi is on suppressant so he didn't do anything - i tell Namjoon, earning another chuckle from Jin.

- Ok that's good, Jin told me the mating process was canceled - Namjoon said.

- Yeah, we figured is better since is what the hybrids feel more comfortable with - i tell him - don't worry Joon we’ll fill you with all the details later, right Jin?

- What? Oh, yeah, oh yes later - jin said nervously.

I only stared at him shaking my head side to side.

[…]

It felt like i was living a movie ever since i meet the snake hybrid, how could i imagine all the events that would be fallowing the moment i decided to get myself between Yoongi and the clinic. I couldn't believe everything even after we left Yoongis room so he could rest, he needed to adapt to the suppressant before we moved him back to his room so as soon as we made sure everything was fine we left to carry on our different activities. Not only he needed to adapt but i knew this would take some time before i can begin to process it, now more then every we needed to be aware of the decisions we make in this process. It did not only involve Yoongis safety but the entire clinic.

At the same time i wanted for Jin to make his father pay for his mistakes, i fear he would try to do something and make things more complicated.

Whatever may happen i was sure to be there for Jin, we still needed to sort everything out as soon as possible.

Namjoon was the most confused between us all, after all Jin had the most impact on him right after we left Yoongis room he turned to Namjoon with the more serious expression on his face as if he was on a mission.

- we have import things to discuss later.- he said with a hand on his shoulder, and the most dramatic look on his features.

- Alright...? - Namjoon was so puzzled he could bearly say anything after he left. - is everything okay with him?

- He's good… see ya?

- see ya.

I knew things were set for drama later on, but now i could tell a weight seemed to heave left Jin's shoulder - mine too now that i was sure he wasn’t bother by my feelings for Yoongi, especially since they are brothers. I was happy he was the one to know about us first, we seemed to share the same thoughts and stand together on the same page when it came to Yoongi. Jin being his only family now i was happy for him, Yoongi wasn’t alone anymore.

Things were bound to happen and secrets can't stay hidden forever, but we had each other and we have the same goal in mind.

Save Yoongi.

Not knowing my day would star with such events in the morning, i didn’t assigned much appointments for today since i would be focusing on Yoongis treatments and his mating process but now that it was all canceled the plans had changed and my schedule was more clear today, i had to make sure a day before today for any case Yoongi may need my assistance but since he was on suppressants from now i would only have to go with his normal appointments now. I found myself completely bored a few hours later after checking on my patients.

After noon i was going back to check on Yoongi when i felt my phone vibrating on my pocket assuming to be Jin and chuckling since i was right ''meeting. My office.'' It read and i could almost picture his teasing smile on his face while sending this.

Truth is ever since the situation with Yoongi was set to our care we have been so stressed and on the edge with it all, one after the other, all the worst cases possible were just being dumped on us and i knew it wasn’t going to be any easy from that point, now that Jin has opened up about his father i knew why he was so distant this whole time and so eager to get things done.

Just like me he too was going through a hard time but now that we finally talked about everything all that worry and fear seemed to be gone, i could feel how much lighter his humor seemed to be and i too felt more comfortable despite my worries for Yoongi.

I was making my way to the elevator to meet up with him when the the alarm went off and all the halls were lighted by the red color and my whole body immediately moved in alert. This was a red coded situation and different from the tiger hybrid accident last week, this one was emergency alert. Not thinking twice as i rushed through the corridors hearing the voice on the speakers requested assistance on the main entrance of the clinic - was there a hybrid making an escape? Not just any hybrid but a red code one?

Today gotta be my lucky day, right after lunch someone tried to escape? The situation couldn’t call for a better moment and i worried for all the other hybrids safety and the timing couldn’t be more perfect as it just so happened to be when the hybrids were coming back from the canteen.

Once I finally got there i was ready to assist with anything but, i found myself watching a scene that for my disappointment was exactly what i was praying wouldn’t happen.

A few doctors circle around the main entrance not moving clearly unsure of what to do as the coded red hybrid held one of our patients by the neck, rushing through the people around i stood in front of the scene feeling a breath close on my throat at the sight of the bunny hybrid i was treating being held by the neck on his knees.

For a moment I thought that this couldn’t be a hybrid who stood there holding Jungkook, i was skeptical as he didn’t show any characteristic of an animal until he looked up in my direction looking straight into my eyes. He didn’t have human eyes, they were bright orange his pupils closed on a thin line sharp enough to bring a chill to my spine. The light shined better over his face making known the golden color of what i knew very well were scales, he was a snake hybrid.

The painful groan from jungkook on the floor immediately woke up the rage inside me, if he wanted to hurt me it was fine but to go after one of my patients it was something else and before i could even think for a second I was already walking towards them, ignoring the few rushed warnings of the people around me.

Making my way towards the snake hybrid i never felt so angry before, being with Yoongi certainly raised my confidence with his kind.

Once i was one step away from the hybrid, looking straight into his sharp snake eyes he smirked at me. Tilting his head to the side as he licked his bottom lip, analyzing my face.

- let go of him - I demanded, anger spitting the words from my lips.

- I don’t want to...

This time i closed the distance.

- you don’t have a say in this, i can wait all day if i must - I demanded again, never even blinking away from his eyes - now be a good boy and let go of my patient.

This time his smile faded completely from his face into a bitter look and he slowly let go of jungkook, who almost fell on the floor over his face. I carefully lowered myself to help jungkook up holding his hands, his neck was red from the tight grip of the snake hybrid and he had tears on his eyes.

- are you okay? - i asked him. He nodded only and I quickly rushing him towards one of the doctors standing there.

- You're not like them... - the hybrid in front of me mumbles, making me turn back to him watching as his orange eyes looked me up and down before stoping over my neck.

I nervously swallowed, i know hybrids have much higher senses and from the look on his snake eyes i was sure by now he too knew about Yoongis bite on my skin still covered by a badge. Heat fallow up my face, knowing from experience he could probably smell Yoongis scent all over me and i prayed he wouldn’t say anything about it in front of every one.

- i don’t know what you mean by that - i tell him, trying my best to sound stern - now will you come with me to your room so i can get you treated or... do you want to go sedated?

He chuckled.

- lead the way doctor - he said, teasingly.

At his words the people around us seemed to have calmed down and soon one of the doctors came to my side with the hybrids documents and a collar to put on him, he looked at me worriedly but i only smiled trying to easy out the tension brought by the snake hybrid, i made sure to take the collar from him and quickly turned back to put on the hybrid.

Anger no longer seemed to be running on my system and i felt nervous once again, but i tried my best to keep my composure while closing the collar around his neck.

Closer now to him i could tell that different from Yoongi, this hybrids scales went higher up his neck stoping right under his ear, his blonde hair was bright almost white and i could pick a citrus scent on him.

I was curious to know what kind of snake hybrid he was.

- i can smell this is not your first time doctor - the snake hybrid insinuates, careful with his choice of words.

- It is not, fortunately for you I'm the one they call when hybrids like you don't have manners - i reply, which makes him smirk even more.

- Lucky me - he mumble, eyes looking up and down at me as he licked his bottom lip showing his sharp fangs.

I didn’t needed to question that he was sure a poisonous snake hybrid, I fear that differently then Yoongis bite his would actually be deadly.

Lucky me.

We didn't know if he would behave until he is all set on his room so me and another doctor were quickly to bring him there, we had to make sure to do this fast to ensure the other hybrids safety. I was glad he didn’t try make another scene but i still held my guard up, walking behind the hybrid as the other doctor took the front guiding us to his room.

Once in his room he was quick to walk up to the bed at the center of the room, sitting on the edge of it i fallowed behind o take the collar from him.

Stoping in front of him as the doctor responsible for him prepared his medication, i focused on carefully tacking the silver collar from his neck. His scales were much different then Yoongis, his had a more yellow and golden sparkle to it which made it look like he was covered in gold in contrast with his almost white hair.

With the collar off his neck he quickly held my wrist stoping me from moving away, he looked up at me, pupils fuller this time, only a small bit of orange around his full pupil told me he was calmer now, he brought my wrist up to his nose closing his eyes as he smelled.

- i smell another hybrids scent on you... - he whispered amused, the smirk never leaving his lips as he watched me - i never seen a human mate with us before..

I took my wrist from his hold harshly, feeling the heat creeping back to my face. Turning on my heel i walked back to assist the doctor, listening the snake hybrid chuckling behind me.

- what do we have? - i asked the doctor, trying to brush the emotions off my nerves.

- he is a piton snake hybrid, red coded but not by poisonous…. - he said.

- i can tell… - I murmured taking the documents from him as he prepared a sedative for the hybrid.

Usually the code red is attributed to a hybrid for one of two reasons, he is a predator which does demand a different approach before we can proceed with any further treatment or he has a history of misbehavior mostly being attempted escape or attempt to harm others, usually they only attempt in harmful behaviors.

I wasn’t surprised to find in his file that hes been assigned to our clinic for treatment after trying to kill one of the doctors on his past clinic, the list goes on and i wasn’t sure what to do.

Name: jp01301095 Male Species: Snake/Piton

Code: Red. (Destructive behaviors)

Date of admission: 13062016

Current status: to be treated for aggressive behavior and attempt to suicide.

Resume: Patient jp01301095 has shown no sign of improvement on past treatments, has been unable to socialize with his kind and the doctors responsible for his treatment. Patient didn’t show any symptoms of recovery, due to his destructive behaviors against others he is required to be isolated from anyone and to be excluded from mating process.

This would be one hell of a patient to treat, the more i read his file the more i became concerned about him. All i could think about was the words “attempt to suicide” on his file, how they never bothered to give him an actual name all made me question if the clinic he was before even cared to treat him correctly, he was the first patient i have heard off that actually tried to harm himself. No matter how many pages of his aggressive behavior towards others i read nothing was making me see him as a threat, I was afraid that just like Yoongi he too was only acting out of fear, looking up at his figure he stared at me smirking i wondered if all wasn’t just a mask he decided to wear to hide what he truly felt.

On his file i notice the dates of all the incidents involving him that, his behavior worsen after his attempt to end his own life. After treating Yoongi and finding out all the mistreatments done to him in this clinic, i was sure this snake hybrid has been gone through the same if not… worse in his past.

I turned to look at him as he stared at us amused and decided on taking matters in my own hands if needed.

- you can ask anything to me... - the hybrid said getting up and walking over to where i was.

It wasn’t like i was some kind of fearless human that i somehow always managed to get in this situations, i just felt more understanding of the hybrids pain then the others and I couldn’t ignore the fact that every time i looked at him, i saw someone who needed help even though he tried to hide it and did very well. He was the victim here but others may not be able to see it as i do, turning to the doctor I smile softly at him.

- call for Namjoon - I whispered to him and he nodded quickly.

I knew he would be the only one after me who could treat this snake hybrid, Namjoon was stronger then me and i knew better then to let myself act any recklessly with this hybrid. He was letting me go now because he wanted, from his files i knew it wouldn’t take a second before he try to hurt me. I needed someone who i could trust to care for him and that was Namjoon.

Once the doctor left i walked up to the hybrid. I knew this was dangerous but i saw what Yoongi did to the other staff and i knew this couldn't go any different if i wasn’t careful.

- well, I'm y/n I'll be taking care of you before we proceed with further treatments - i tell him.

- Please do... - he said, a smirk fallowing.

I took the sedative with me. When we go through traumas our brain tend to mask it as the opposite feelings as a safe mechanism, hybrids were no different then us when it came to that. I could tell he was using a flirting tone and a smile to mask his feelings probably also to provoke a reaction from me since he knows about Yoongi from his scent on me, i questioned if he uses that as a way to get things he wants from people - was it that how he got closer to his past females doctors?

I saw first hand how he can be when acting out on rage, but the more I looked at him now if I didn’t watched before I wouldn’t even believe he was capable of such thing. Right now he looked like a complete different hybrid then the one i read on the file, he wasn’t much taller then me, had a small figure and was covered on a gray uniform from his old facility, his white hair messily covered some of his face, his skin looked so pale it made the scales on his body shine like gold.

When he wasn’t smirking the soft features on his face made him look almost angelic, he was beautiful indeed - was it common for all snake hybrids to be this beautiful?

I quickly brushed off.

- what is your name? - i ask him.

They never once bother to give him a name, clearly no one even treated him kindly before for it. It was noticeable to me they didn’t thought of him for more then an aggressive being, only seeing him for his flaws but never trying to care for his wounds.

- I’m sure you read in the file, is jp01301095…. - he said, nonchalantly.

- yeah, but I’m sure that is not how you actually call yourself - i tell him, approaching softly - I’m asking for your real name.

He looked at me suspiciously certainly i was the only one who ever bothered to ask for his name, i could see how his mask dropped for a very short second before he smirked taking another step closer.

- you can call me Jimin…. - he said, sarcasm dripping his words - did they send me here because i misbehaved?

- Why you think that? - i asked softly, I realized the calmer i sounded the more his pupils dilated - did you do something bad?

- Humm... i hurt someone - he murmured, eyes shining brighter as if remembering exactly what he did - that's why they didn't assign any females as my doctors...

His files did mentioned a few females assistants who were unfortunate on the receiving side of his anger, it made me wonder why he prays on them more then males. Was it a women who inflicted the pain on him? Or was it that he just thought of us as being easier to hurt?

- I see... well nothing I haven't seen before - i tell him. Which brought a cold chuckle from him.

- You have some courage - he walked closer to me - is it because you stink of a snake hybrid? You think hell protect you?

- I can protect myself Jimin - i tell him.

The mention of his name did got a reaction from him as i imagined, for the second time i saw the mask fall for another split second before i took the chance to grab his wrist carefully. He didn’t fight me not did he tried to hurt me from touching him, i was surprised at that not exactly expecting him to let me guide him back to his bed. He sat down watching my every move.

- you are not here to be punished, Jimin… - i decided to call him by his name.

I took the sedative the doctor prepared, all his symptoms were under a red pen marked as dangerous on his file and everything was pointing how Jimin wasn’t physically hurt but mentally. He was unstable and so on for the first appointment he must be asleep, as much as i hate it I can’t do the opposite , he could still try to hurt someone and i was set on changing that behavior of his.

- you are here to be treated and recover - i said.

Turning to him i sat beside him taking his shirt to the side to insert the needle on his shoulder. He didn’t move or said anything while i did it. It was only when i was done that he gave me another sarcastic response.

- are you this sweet with your little snake lover too? - he said, trying to provoke another reaction.

- I'm careful with all my patients - i said, the words I chose are important. Anything could trigger a reaction from him and it was a matter of one wrong choice that could change everything.

- Oh... was he the one who did that? - he pointed at my arm covered by the white badge.

- No, he would never do anything to hurt me - i tell him - maybe you should learn some manners with him.

He scoffed.

I watched closely for his reaction at the mention of him and another hybrid like him, it didn’t seem to after him too much and that is a good thing.

The door opened revealing a worried Namjoon. I walked up to him.

- you really have no will to survive - he said to me.

- Sorry, everyone was scared so i did what i do best - i tell him, handing the file to him - i just sadeted him, he is all yours.

- Wait you won’t help me out? - he asked as i turned to leave, seeing as the hybrid as already falling over the bed due to the sedative any worry I had left in me was gone.

Everything would be fine from now.

- I have enough snake problems to resolve.

[…]

Indeed i had enough problems to resolve, after the alert was out i had to head back to all my patients and make sure they were doing fine - especially Jungkook who could've had end up hurt if i didn't show up.

Me and Namjoon were not the only ones who had assignments to deal after the alert, Jin too was called to assist the others and our meeting had to be moved to another hour later.

I just found out then how Yoongi could get even more grumpy under heat suppressants and nothing seemed to ease that grumpiness of his but i was relived to be with him in that moment regardless of his shitty humor, after the deep dive on the new snake hybrid file and uncover another series of mistreatment to another being like Yoongi my own humor had gone down bad blue and gray.

After bringing Yoongi some food i was impressed at how much he behaved like an old man when he's grumpy.

- did you eat everything? - i asked him.

- Yes boss.... - he mumbled, sucking on the red lollipop i gave him in the hopes the sugar would melt a bit of his grumpy humor. It didn't.

Instead he just looked at me bored while lying lazily on the bed, the covers were all over the floor and some were even scratched in pieces.

- were you fighting with the bed? What a mess - I commented. Hearing a grunt from him, i chuckled at his reaction - if you keep behaving like that...

- What? Will you punish me doctor y/n - he said teasingly, sitting over the edge of the bed were i stood up in front of him.

- Yes i will, i won’t give you any kisses - i tell him turning away to leave.

As I expected not a second later he pulled me back by the arm, i watched as he stared up at me much softer than before. This sly snake.

- I'm sorry... - he said, slowly massaging my wrist - i’m feeling moody because of the meds.

- I know, is okay - i gave in, carefully caressing his long hair.

- You'll still give me kisses, right?

- Of course...

I leaned down pressing our lips together in a soft kiss, feeling his smile grow against my lips tasting the sweet flavor of strawberry lollipop on his tongue. He groaned moving his hands up and down my sides slightly pulling me closer but before things got any deeper I quickly leaned back. Making my leave to carry on my assignments, leaving a now less grumpy snake hybrid behind.

We still needed to discus the matters with Jin and tell Namjoon of all that's been going on the past days, I felt bad for hiding it from him for this long but things were certainly not looking good and sometimes it is better to tell the other when you have things figured out so you don't bleed on them.

Thats what i thought at least, while making my way to get in the elevators after messaging Jin about the meeting.

When he gave me his confirmations I quickly left to head to his office.

I knew things would get better for Yoongi from now on and i was hopeful that Jin would win this one against his father, from now we had agreed on keeping an eye on all the hybrids in the clinic to make sure such thing never happens again.

Once i entered Jin's office Namjoon was already there as they shared a brief conversation. I took the seat beside Namjoon in front of Jin's desk as he looked as us both.

- well was is this all about? - Namjoon asked.

- I don't really know were to start.... - Jin said, looking a bit nervous - a few days ago we were here to discuss how you both would be taking care of Yoongis case and now, I'm here to... kinda fill you in why he won’t be put down anymore.

I know that already, but hearing for the first time right now felt more reassuring. I knew yet it felt like it was finally happening, Yoongi was free.

So on Jin begin to tell Namjoon about everything we have kept from him this whole time, how his father passed the case to him to put yoongi down, the first time we treated him and how he researched the files for Yoongi finding out all about his mistreatments.

He told us about how a few days before the mating process start he found his mothers diary and the documents for Yoongis birth, passing them to Namjoon who had the same reaction as me when i found out.

The entire time Jin was he only one talking, i wasn't sure what to expect once he was done though. As much as i was feeling positive i couldn’t ignore the anxiety i was feeling in that moment, i was hoping Namjoon would understand and maybe help us too but i couldn't force him to do that not was i expecting him to accept all of this at first.

The moment Jin told him about them being brothers our relationship was fallowed right after, Namjoon didn’t looked at me in any moment, his entire attention was still on the papers on his hands but i notice how he reacted at the mentioned of me and Yoongi.

- what? - he then said, looking up at Jin.

I swallowed nervously as Jin looked at me with the same feeling.

- i mean... i don't intend to be rude - he continued - this is the first time i heard of such thing.

- so you don't mind? - i asked.

He turned to look into my eyes.

- it's nothing that bothers me, i mean hybrids should be treated fairly like us not like some kind of savages, right?  - he added - i think if that's how you feel about him, i shouldn't judge you. We are friends too.

I was grateful for his words, so far I've been beating myself up over this matter. I couldn't help but wonder if me and Yooongi could ever have a relationship, we were far from normal and completely opposites to one another. But our feelings were mutual, a spark gluing us together.

For now i knew that my friends were together with me and that was very comforting due to our situation, i still have no idea how I'll ever manage a relationship with a hybrid in the clinic. I was sure it wouldn't be possible to maintain such a secret here and even more intimacy, wasn’t exactly comforting to be intimate with Yoongi at the same place i treated others.

It seems that no matter how many obstacles we go through, things never get easy for me and Yoongi to be together in the end something always separates us.

- is that why the mating process was canceled? - Namjoon asked.

- oh, no - Jin quickly replied - i simply don't want to force Yoongi into that, he clearly doesn't seem comfortable with it.

- i see... what will we be doing now then? - Namjoon putted - with him i mean.

- I intend to set Yoongi for adoption.

- what?

I almost gagged at my own saliva at his statement.

- that's what i wanted to discuss with you - Jin stared at me - i dont't want him to stay here any longer. Yoongi has been so much already or years i think is about time he has his own home but since the protocols for hybrids require an adoption document I'll set him for applications.

- a black mamba snake hybrid... it will be difficult to find good people interested - Namjoon comments.

I knew this would come sooner or later. Some of the hybrids here at the clinic are set for adoption application after their full recover, that is green coded hybrids. I couldn't understand why Jin would want to set Yoongi for adoption especially with him being red coded. He needed special care and time for recover to all his mistreatments, not only that but he certainly needed space to be able to have his heat which we had to interrupt for a while.

- are you planning on adopting him then? - i ask.

- oh… no - he said - i don’t think he would want to come with me and part of the process is that is a mutual thing with both sides, even though we are brothers i… wouldn’t want him to feel obligated to accept me just because of that.

- I understand but if you’re setting him for someone else, don't you think is too soon for this? - i asked Jin.

- i know what you're thinking, that's why i want you to apply for his adoption - he said. I could feel my eyeballs almost sprout open at his words.

- me?!

- it makes sense... - Namjoon muttered and i stared at him stupefied - i mean, he only likes you and you like him. Why not?

- i know this might be sudden y/n given how it has been so far but, i ask you to consider this - Jin said softly, eyes locked with mine

- yes, it is very sudden - i tell him - I'll have to think about this first, this is a lot of responsibility.

- I'll be here once you decide.

It mostly is a lot of responsibility, is not only about me but Yoongis well being as well. I can't make such decisions without thinking about this through, i know that Jin trusts me with this because of the relationship i have build with Yoongi and he being his only family is trying his best to help him but i can't do something that would possibly make Yoongi uncomfortable.

It hasn't been long since we've been together, living with one another is much different, sharing the same house together would be something he's never experienced too. I wasn't sure i would be able to meet his needs with my small apartment, certainly being a doctor at the clinic would help a lot with any medical needs he may have but what else would i be able to offer him?

Truth is I'd give him the world if i could but, i can't.

- well count me in to help guys - Namjoon said - but don't keep me out from now on.

He pointed at Jin.

- sorry bro, won't keep you out anymore - Jin said.

- y/n, don't even think about leaving me with that other Snake hybrid of yours - was his turn to point at me now.

The mention immediately reminds me of the piton snake hybrid who was admitted today, Jimin the piton hybrid's definitely seemed like a case new to me. He didn't seem to respect any boundaries and was a extremely trouble maker, from his files i read today there was many cases highlighted of his doings, doctors being hurt by him and many tries to escape that ended with not only the staff hurt but some of the hybrids.

Not only that but his mental state doesn’t seem the best either, i felt deeply concerned for him.

- what? But he is not my patient? - i tell him. I would gladly take the case if it wasn't for Yoongi, he's been very sensitive to all the smells around, i was afraid that if Jimin gets too close and leave some scent he might go off really bad.

- you mean the new snake hybrid, he’s a piton... - Jin adds - if I'm not wrong he hasn't been assigned to a specific doctor yet, if the situations seems favorable y/n would you mind taking him?

- i don't know, Jin...

- i think it could be good for Yoongi, maybe we can introduce them two and see if they can become friend - Jin continues - i think that it would be good for him.

- I understand Jin but, that is something to be discussed more in the future - i tell him - we need to move slower, Yoongi just started to adapt to a new routine and you are already thinking of putting him into adoption process. He's been through a lot, he might need more time to process all of this. He doesn't even know about you.

- oh, you are right... well then let's keep the in mind for the moment but please - Jin looked at me, a soft expression on his face - do think about what i told about his adoption, I'm sure... you are be the best suited to this.

[…]

A few days have gone ever since Jin mentioned about Yoongis adopting process, I haven't gone a single minute without considering all the pros and cons for that, as Jin asked me. I knew he wanted me to carry on that process but, i wasn't sure about it. We haven’t even told Yoongi about that, since it was still something that needed to be worked on and we were not sure how we would react to it, Jin was taking his time with it. But not only for those reasons, i was assuming he was even more busy this week then ever before. He did carry on the matters with his fathers wrong doings, but nothing much could be done besides making him step down from his position at the clinic so Jin could take his place.

Jin mentioned in a meeting about the situation with his father that, he was afraid that by exposing Yoongi and making known how there was a possibility for humans and hybrids to reproduce together would only cause future troubles for the hybrids and the last thing he wanted was for the hybrids to be put on a lab and be tested on again.

I know he only had good intentions and i trusted he did what he could in the situation he was in, for that reason we decided to delete all traces of his mother relation with the hybrid and her pregnancy. All the documents were destroyed to ensure no harm would be done to any hybrid in the future.

I didn't wanted to but, Jimin was in the end passed down for my care. The piton snake himself made the request for Jin the day after he was set in the clinic, from then i knew there was nothing i could do but at the same time i was glad he was showing good signs.

I decided it would be best to talk about it with Yoongi which only made me more nervous about it.

- he's like me? I doubt - he said that time - i don't really care though.

I was perplexed at his unbothered response at first but then I began to wonder if it was only because of the suppressants he's been taking, whatever reason it was it made possible for me to carry on Jimins treatments more closely.

The piton snake was slowly making process, so far he had no episodes of anger his only problem seemed to be he was just a brat, whenever he could he would bother Jungkook the bunny hybrid and I remember Namjoon mentioning that it was because he was a prey hybrid. Jungkook only acted annoyed at Jimins bickering at him, clearly the bunny hybrid was much bigger then the piton hybrid but I wouldn't want to bet on that matter - although i did saw some colleagues betting on them in the lunch room.

Jimins misbehaving got less serious as the days went by, he decided to be extra annoying to me though. He would always send flirting comments to me whenever he could, trying to be cute the second he realized i was seriously unbothered. It was baffling how much he just throws those comments every now and then never missing a chance, i even set him for heat examination but he came clean. He was just dirty minded but a least i knew he wasnt trying to kill anyone here like he would on his past clinics. He did improved a lot and I was glad he was doing better now, after a few days Jimin has proven to me how even code red hybrids could recover if you just give them some time and space to heal after all they too get mentally exhausted.

Jimin was constantly left on open space with other hybrids at his old clinic which to some hybrids can be very overwhelming since some still fell very territorial, i heard from him how some other hybrids would act out because of it but the clinic never did anything about it.

From then he started to open up more to me about his past, i was right about him being mistreated and that made me even more protective of the small piton hybrid. He wouldn’t talk much about himself and i notice how he would quickly brushed off with a flirty comment whenever the conversation went too serious, i was surprised to discover how much of a soft hybrid he was. But it seemed he didn’t liked when people noticed that side of him.

Little by little i would mention to him if he would like to meet with Yoongi, he would usually make some unserious comments and I understand that he wasn’t ready for that in the moment.

A week has gone by since Jins father has stepped down from his position, i could tell things were changing around the clinic evere since. Jin was giving extra attention to every case to ensure that everything was doing fine. Through that time i notice more people coming to the clinic to apply for Yoongis adoption, i was happy more people seemed to be interested in taking him in but I couldn't ignore the bitter feeling it came with it.

I grew worried about it every day that went by, usually when hybrids begin adopting process the director review the documents of the people who applied and after the review a meeting with the people is set for them and the hybrid to meet each other and ensure things go smoothly for both of them.

I was glad Jin was taking this slowly for everything that Yoongi went through and specially since he still doesn't know about this yet it could make things more difficult. The grumpy snake hybrid was still grumpy from the suppressants and we still needed to discuss about his heat, it would be good for the hybrid to hold that much longer.

I knew it would come to a moment were a meeting would be set for him and i became even more anxious, it was selfish of me to think about it this way but just the thought of Yoongi going away set a pinch to my chest so deep it was enough to drive me insane.

I was done dueling on the matter but I had to tell him about it first, before making any decision i needed to let him know his options. I felt the need to let him know that he wasn’t an accessory but a being who had a life and he could make his own choices.

After much thought i decided to tell him at his lunch, but I couldn't make out any words as i just stood there in front of him as he eat his food quietly.

- you've been too quiet - he mentions.

- ah, yes I'm just thinking about something... - nervously replied.

- is it about me? You seem... weird - he said, putting the bowl down beside him. He brushed his hair to the side, dark eyes staring deep into mine as if trying to make out my thoughts.

- i know that it might be too soon... - i begin, sitting down beside him, ignoring his eyes as i stared at the floor bitting into my lower lip - i wanna know your thoughts on... hum… adoption.

- what do you mean by that? - he asks, i feel him move beside me turning to me completely - you wanna adopt? Is it... like a pet? Or...

He didn't continued realizing by my silence exactly what i meant. I sighted.

- Jin set you for adoption a few days ago.... - I blurted out.

- he... what? - he said - why didnt you tell me before? Why am i only finding out now?

- because i... I wanted to ask you first... - i looked up at him nervously, feeling heat creeping up on my cheeks.

Seeing as his dark eyes shined angrily at mine and his eyebrows furred into a thick line, his hair was still a bit wet from his early bath, i could smell the scent of lavender coming from his skin. He grew the habit of closing only the last four bottoms of his silk shirt, exposing his beautiful skin and the scales on his sides and his neck to my eyes. Yoongi knew exactly what he was doing when he let those bottoms opened, it was on purpose and he made that clear a few days ago during one of his bath.

Even under suppressants i realized his desire was just unstoppable and unfortunately for Jin who usually entered the room right when we were sharing a heated kiss, it was not the best scene to be present.

Maybe it was the fact that so many people showed up for Yoongi that made me finally step up, i knew ever since we shared a bite on his mating room I wouldn’t be able to stay away from him anymore and having to balance our relationship in the clinic wasn't enough not was it possible anymore.

- I’ve been meaning to ask you this but i was so nervous, Yoongi... - i tell him honestly - the truth is... ever since Jin brought this up first I've been thinking about it every day...

- what are you trying to tell me y/n? - he said, leaning closer he held my hand in his. - are you trying to say goodbye?

- i.... - i stopped immediately.

How could i even put this into words to him? I was so nervous my hands were shaking, seeing how he seemed to grow sadder i felt desperate.

- i want to adopt you Yoongi.

At my words his face immediately lightens up, eyes staring into my with much surprise.

- you mean... for real? - he was breathless.

- yes, i wanna take you to my home as mine - i tell him.

He immediately pulled me into his arms and i never been held so tightly by him before, i hugged him back softly caressing his hair.

- I'm all yours then... - he murmured in my neck.

My chest was almost exploding in excitement.

[...]

The morning after…

- here -  i said handing Jin the single paper.

- oh, what is it? - he asked, before taking.

- i thought i should hand it to you personally.... - i tell him - i didn’t wanted to waste any time.

He stared at me suspiciously before reading the paper i gave him, I chuckled at his immediate surprise response eyes opening enough to almost pop out off his head then slowly fading into a knowing smile as he looked up at me.

- what took you so long? - he said.

- overthinking maybe?

We both shared a smile before he put the paper down getting into a more serious mood.

- well then... should we discuss the meeting?

- yes, the sooner the better.

I couldn't even begin to believe it. Yoongi would leave this clinic for the first time in his life and it was going to be with me.

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. .

Next?

Notes: I’m sorry for any grammatical mistakes 😅😅 and the long wait, is not my best but it’s here. I hope you guys like it. See y’all 💖🙏

Taglist is closed!🚫: @yoongiwantsme @effielumiere @danielle143 @dragons-flare @awanderingangel @blue-and-grey-army @crystallizedtime @fairywriter-oracle @rosquilleta @m4gg13-g @unadulteratedlyunique @kpopmultistantrashsstuff @anaspectoflife @younhakim29 @yoongislatinagff @kimsonlyluv @slut-4-yourmom @illnevertrustmyselfagain @bangchanbabygirlx @itsskyvoltage @welcometomyworld13 @momnomnom @honsoolgloss @kimtaehussy @amariemoore @starrlo0ver @whipwhoops @glosstwn @i-have-no-life-charlie @kooslilhoe e @catlove83 @tarahardcore @liveyun @4ukiyo4 @sukonsukuna a @passionandsuga @missroro @btspurplesky @watermelon2319 @mukeovernetflix @lopprhe @acquiescence804 @locket-hrt @prettytaesworld @myspi2010 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @armydgirl l @jaxyy219 @viankiss @shycreationdreamland @the-reas0n-is-y0u @nothingsreal420 @sckalykoko @lucis-noctiana

[silentscrying]

🎸 out of my mind ! 💿 track two: kowalski, status report

guitarist!ino x drummer!reader

summary: it's the annual battle of the bands at the fix, your college campus's iconic live music bar, and this year you're taking the stage as the drummer for indie rock group cursed technique. you know the competition is strong, but no part of you is ready for lead singer and guitarist takuma ino. you lock eyes at the edge of the stage, and something starts—something that might make you feel alive even more than the beat of the drums.

warnings: language, alcohol, mentions of drugs/drug dealing, toge bullying, unbearably cute dogs. || sfw. 9k words.

"I SHOULDN'T CUSS in this, right?"

It’s the day before the other four artists premiere their sets at Battle of the Bands, and you haven’t been home since six in the morning. You’re running on caffeine and spite and the pursuit of the story, parked on a high stool across the bar from the one and only Ieiri Shoko.

Toge leans on the counter beside you, opting to stand. He’s agreed to pay for the next snack run in return for you letting him be your partner. You both know you’re going to end up doing most of the writing, but you don’t really mind. Toge would if you asked him to, but you love this kind of thing in a way he just doesn’t. Plus, he’s better with a camera than you, and he’s taking photos tomorrow night.

You laugh, pulling out your phone to record. “You can say whatever you want as long as it’s honest. Be candid.”

“You might regret saying that!” Gojo calls from the back, and Shoko silences him with a glare.

“Are you coming or not?”

Gojo grins and finishes up whatever he’s putting away in the storage room, then strides out and leans his elbows on the counter.

“Do you mind if I record?” You point to the open voice memo app. “Makes it easier to quote you correctly.” You also just hate running interviews when you’re scribbling hand-written notes the whole time. You’d much rather have a genuine conversation and worry about the details later.

Shoko waves a hand airily. “No problem.”

“Absolutely,” Gojo says. “You can probably sell that for thousands.”

You set the phone on the counter, next to one of the tiny pumpkins scattered across it in celebration of the beginning of October. You and Toge bounce back and forth as you run through the standard start-of-interview checklist, having them spell out their names, getting their ages, hometowns, degrees, all that jazz. And then you launch into the stuff you really care about.

“So, you opened The Fix about ten years ago now, correct?”

Shoko nods. “Yeah, a little over two years after we graduated.”

You look at Gojo, whose eyes are even more alarmingly blue in the daylight. “And you were hired right away?”

“Utahime first, then me,” he nods. “Best for last, y’know.”

Shoko snorts. “We knew each other in school. I just took pity on him.” She smirks as Gojo’s jaw drops. “You can quote that.”

“Right, so all of you were friends in college. And you came together to start this place—what was the idea behind it?” Toge chimes in. “You said you studied nursing, Shoko?”

And you sit and listen as Shoko explains. Back in college, she was at the top of her class. By graduation, she’d been accepted to basically all the best med schools. She had her pick. She could do whatever she wanted. But she realized that what she wanted wasn’t that at all.

The medical field is brutal, she tells you. It’s all late nights and emotional burnout. People yelling at you, misplaced anger when you give them the bad news. Getting attached to people only to watch them waste away.

“I needed to get out before I got too far in. Maybe it was selfish,” she admits. “But I wasn’t cut out for it. I have so much admiration for medical professionals, but I couldn’t be one of them. A few clinicals and I was already feeling the consequences of giving too much of myself and getting nothing back.” She shrugs. “So I named it The Fix, as some kind of homage to the medical background. And I figured I’d just make sure it’s safe.”

Something sits heavy in her gaze as she stares at something behind you, middle distance, like she’s remembering.

“Why a college bar?” you ask, nudging the phone across the counter to pick up her voice better. “I mean, the extra security, thinking about underage drinking, dealing with a bunch of broke university kids. You could’ve just as easily opened a different bar in a more lucrative area. What was the appeal?”

She smiles crookedly. “Appeal. Well. My senior year, I was working in the local ER. And I saw… god. So many kids came in there needing their stomachs pumped, or kids who’d done laced drugs, gotten roofied, harassed, it was… I mean, it was a city university club scene. They weren’t safe. And I just felt like I needed to give them that. I couldn’t stay there as a nurse or a doctor. But I could do this.” She shrugs. “Sorry. That was probably way too much.”

“No,” you say quickly, smiling at her. “That was—that’s what we came here for. Shoko, that’s amazing. And it’s not selfish, taking care of yourself. You’re still here taking care of others.”

You don’t know Gojo well. Most of your stories about him come secondhand from Nobara, who knows him through Megumi. She paints the picture of a flamboyant, obnoxious bartender who’s more like a weird uncle to her than anything. From what you’ve seen of him at The Fix, you know this to be mostly accurate—he’s rarely serious, always taking flack from the students and giving it right back, ragging on Utahime, begging Shoko to play his playlist instead of Geto’s and knowing she’ll never cave. But now, as he listens intently to Shoko, you think you’re seeing another side of him.

There’s something troubled on his face as she speaks, like he wishes he could reach into the past and help. Like he regrets it.

The bar’s not the only thing that has a different side in the daylight.

“She’s right,” Gojo tells Shoko. It’s not much, but she looks up at him a bit surprised, something in her expression softening. A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth, not quite there but not quite not. “You’ve got a pretty big heart under all that RBF.” Shoko rolls her eyes, the moment over.

“What about you?��� You turn to Gojo, nudging the phone his way. “Why a college bar?”

Shoko turns toward him, leaning a hip against the bar, just as curious as you are. “I think kids deserve to be kids,” he shrugs. “And if I—if we—can create a space where it’s actually safe for them to do that, it feels important.” His gaze shifts from you and Toge to the empty bar, the stage and floor and high-top tables that tomorrow will be full of music and laughter and students knowing they’re allowed to let loose here.

“There aren’t a lot of places out there that are exclusively for students,” he continues. “It’s this weird phase, college, where you’re figuring out who you are, trying to take risks without losing too much. It’s a lot. And you look at the crime rates, date rape drugs, theft, DUIs, in the city, and it’s just—this place gives them the room to learn and grow and mess around and have a good time without the danger of the… I don’t know. The outside world. Does that make sense?”

He drums his fingers on the countertop, then seems to abruptly remember the recording and stops. “I think it’s just… well, no one’s allowed to take youth away from young people. So that’s why I’m here.”

You wonder what Gojo was like in school. He majored in gender studies, which you’re pretty sure is what Todo is at least minoring in, too—you’re not sure how it’s applicable to anything, but Nobara says he likes to pull his diploma out from behind the bar and say he’s an expert in women. It seems a far cry from this rare, more subdued version of Gojo you’re seeing right now. You’d guess he’s grown quite a bit in the time he’s been here. And Shoko’s been here to witness it.

He’s not a business owner, like Shoko or Geto. And according to Nobara, he definitely doesn’t need this gig to make a living. He’s here because he wants to be.

“These last few years have been nice, in particular,” he offers. “Just ‘cause some of us have kids going here. I mean, you know the Fushiguros. Suguru’s got the twins. And I know Ino’s not Nanami’s kid, but they’re tight.”

“Wait, what?” Nanami is the bar’s primary security guy, a bouncer who never lets a fake ID fool him. He’s part of the reason this place is so safe. Toge spins to look at you as you blurt out the question, caught off guard. “Uh, sorry. I just didn’t—I didn’t know they knew each other.”

Shoko studies you with tired, intelligent eyes, and you can’t help but feel the tables have been entirely flipped. You’re the one being interrogated, wordlessly, by the woman across the counter. You feel like every thought in your head is scrawled across your face for her to read.

“Yeah,” Gojo says, unaffected. “Ino looks up to him a lot, I think. Even though he’s an old man who reads the newspaper for fun.” He snorts. “He’s a good guy, though. And Ino’s a good kid.” He finally clocks the way Shoko’s looking at you and cocks his head, appraising.

Thankfully, Toge cuts in with another question. “So, we’ll be around tomorrow for the bands and to take some photos and observe,” he explains, glancing at you to make sure he’s got the information right. “Will Geto be around?” You’d wanted both owners’ perspectives, and now that Gojo’s reminded you of the twins, you’re even more curious.

“Yeah, Suguru and Utahime will be here tomorrow night,” Shoko says. “And Nanami. Geto would totally be down to talk to you some other time, too, when it’s a bit quieter.”

“Amazing,” you say, pulling the phone back toward you. You’ll need details, follow-ups, but you need to process this first, write some things down while they’re fresh in your mind. ‘Thank you so much for this. We appreciate it.”

“Anytime, kid,” Shoko says, waving you off. “See you tomorrow.”

As you turn off the recording, Gojo and Toge have already devolved into conversation about the bands and predictions about tomorrow night. A few posters are scattered across a low table near the door, and you pick one up, smiling at the blocky lettering advertising Black Flash. There are posters advertising all of the artists, and they look amazing, straight out of one of the alt rock venues in the wider city.

“They’re sick, right?” Gojo calls, nodding to the posters. “I gotta hang those up, actually. Thanks for the reminder.”

You wave goodbye to Shoko and Gojo and lead the way out, Toge just behind you.

“Man,” he says, and you brace yourself, recognizing his teasing tone for what it is. “They said Ino’s name and you look like scared Bambi or some shit.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, elbowing him.

He holds his hands up. “I’m just living in pursuit of the truth! Like Kusakabe would want.”

“Is your camera battery charged for tomorrow?” you say in a blatant attempt at a topic change.

“Who do you think I am?”

“Toge Inumaki, chronically irresponsible student and—”

“Okay, sorry I asked, holy shit.” He sticks his tongue out at you. Then he hesitates, frowning, and then he’s pulling out his phone and calling someone in his favorites list before you can see who it is. “Hey,” he greets. “What? No, she didn’t kick me out. Hey. Hey.” You snicker and Toge glares at you, pressing the phone closer to his ear. “Yutaaa,” he whines. “Do you know where my camera battery is?”

—

Even when you’re not the one on stage, you live for Fridays at The Fix. Tonight you’re doing double duty—because of the dual elimination at the end of the round, all of the competing artists are here. It’s not a requirement, but you want to see what you’re up against, and the sentiment seems to have carried. You and Toge are also in reporting mode for your project story.

The band on stage right now is… well, you can’t say new wave metal is really your thing, but it’s definitely theirs, and the audience is loving it. The Cull, you write in your notes. Look up names.

You couldn’t make out the lyrics if your life depended on it. It’s three guys and a girl, vaguely familiar, but you’re fairly certain they’re seniors and absolutely certain they’re baked right now.

“God, this is loud.” Yuta winces, turning to face you, and then his eyes flicker to something over your shoulder. You divert your attention from the stage and just catch the brief commotion in your periphery. Nanami has a kid by the elbow, and he’s escorting him out the side door, expressionless. The kid’s obviously drunk out of his mind, tripping over himself, shouting something that Nanami doesn’t bother to respond to.

Maki follows your gaze and wrinkles her nose up in distaste.

“Who’s that?”

“My cousin,” she says flatly. You glance quizzically at Megumi, who is definitely standing five feet away and not being escorted out of the bar.

“Dude, how much family do you have at this school?”

She sighs. “Just Mai and Megumi and him. Naoya. He’s a piece of shit.”

“Clearly,” Toge says. “He broke the M theme. No respect for the family alliteration.” Maki kicks him in the shin.

“One last round for The Cull!” Panda calls from the stage, and your ears slowly, very gradually stop ringing with the raging new wave music. The stage techs get to work behind Panda as he introduces the next group.

“Up next, making their debut, we’ve got a sophomore girl pop trio. Give it up for MOTION CAPTURE!”

There’s a big cheer from the bar, and you turn to see Geto grinning. Three girls take the stage, the blonde one grabbing the mic and adding, “All caps!” The girl beside her is very obviously her twin sister, though her hair is straight and dark while the blonde’s is tugged into pigtails. Light and dark. The girl on keys has a long, black bubble braid that she pushes out of the way as she settles in to play.

The blonde plugs in her electric and calls out, “Alright, I’m Nanako.” She tests out a chord, the sound reverberating, filling the bar all the way up to its high ceilings. “That’s Mimiko, that’s Remi, and we’re just here to have a good time.”

“Hey,” a voice says behind you, and you jump. You turn to find Takuma holding two drinks, offering one to you.

“Oh! Aw, thanks, you didn’t have to do that. How much do I owe you?”

He rolls his eyes. “Nothing.”

“Takuma—”

“Nothing,” he reiterates. “Anyway, The Cull. Thoughts?”

You take the drink and try it while you think on your answer—it’s the same thing Nobara got you last week. How did he know?

“I didn’t really understand any of the lyrics,” you admit, shrugging. “They weren’t bad. Not really my genre. Do you know them?”

Takuma shakes his head. “I had a gen ed once with that Rin kid, but I don’t know the other ones. These girls aren’t bad, though.” He’s right—they’ve launched into an Olivia Rodrigo cover that’s actually decent. They could work on their voice control, but they’re young and fun and having a good time and working the crowd, and that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?

You sing along, alternating between your drink and exchanging quips with Toge and talking with Takuma. You like this new balance between your band and his, the easy camaraderie.

When the girls wrap up their set, you whoop and cheer and Kirara shamelessly watches Hakari move things off the stage, arms bare in his cut-off tank.

“You’re subtle,” Takuma tells her, and she tugs his beanie down over his face.

“Hey!”

You grab his drink before he can spill it and grin as he yanks his hat off and readjusts it. His hair is a fluffy mess underneath, and it’s kind of endearing.

When the girl pop trio is done, two guys take the stage, one in white and one in black. They’re clearly related, dark hair and pale skin and piercing eyes, and Panda introduces them as the Kamos. You don’t know if they’re brothers or cousins or what. But they’re good—they sing a few alt rock covers, play guitar.

“Damn,” Nobara sighs, a little longingly, her gaze settling on Choso as he takes over the chorus. “They’re…”

Beside her, Yuji wrinkles his nose. “Dude. That’s my half-brother.”

Nobara hums noncommittally. “And?”

He groans, tipping his head back and staring at the exposed beams of the ceiling, run through with colored lights. “Why does this always happen?”

Toge is taking more photos of them than is strictly necessary, considering your story is about the bar and not the band, but you let him have this. Scattered throughout the crowd are more kids with cameras, freshmen from the entry-level reporting classes with big underage stamps on the backs of their hands. Somebody mistook Toge for one of them earlier, and Maki hasn’t let it go all night.

You jot down atmospheric notes on your phone, little things that’ll help set the scene for your project lede, keeping an eye on the bar as much as you can. Geto has jumped in at the bar, which he usually does when the place gets busy, and Gojo is terrorizing Utahime again.

“How’d your interview go?” Takuma asks, nodding at your notes. It shouldn’t faze you so much that he remembers what you told him about your story, but you can’t help the little kick of your heart in your chest at the reminder.

“Good! Really good.” And then you catch sight of Nanami, back at the door after calling a cab for Maki’s asshat cousin. “Actually, Gojo mentioned you.”

Takuma’s brows shoot up. “Gojo? Why?”

Nanami has always seemed incredibly reserved, stony and silent in a way Takuma has never been. You don’t want to pry, but you’re also curious about the relationship between them, how they met, what they are to each other. The journalist in you wants to know.

And then there’s the part of you that just wants to know Takuma.

“Well, he was talking about the twins and the Fushiguros, and he kind of mentioned something about you knowing Nanami?” You try to sound casual, jerking your chin toward the door where Nanami is posted, like a tall, blond guard dog.

“Oh,” he says, surprised, but he shrugs, not seeming too alarmed by the question. “Yeah, I’ve known Nanami for… a long time. He’s kind of a mentor. He’s the reason I met Fushiguro in the first place, actually, ‘cause of him knowing Gojo.”

You’re considering asking how exactly they did meet when the Kamos wrap up, Nobara staring up at them dreamily, and the stage clears out for the final artist.

Whatever questions you had are thrown out the window, because you know who this is. Everyone knows who this is.

Fifth-year student and resident SoundCloud rapper, Ryomen Sukuna. Or D!SH0NORED1, according to the posters.

“Oh, here we go,” Megumi groans.

Despite his reputation on campus, you don’t know anyone who’s actually close to Sukuna, except Uruame. You mostly know that he deals at the skate park and that he’s clean about it.

And that his raps are truly, genuinely horrible.

He lets Panda give a stilted introduction and launches into a verse, mic too close to his mouth, making hand gestures or stepping to the beat of his backing track. His tattoos are even more stark and bold under the stage lights.

“My blood type’s B, your type is me, my zodiac Caprisun, it might be controversial but you’re still lookin’ at me, son!”

“Oh, sweet Jesus,” Kirara mutters. “I’m gonna bleach my eardrums.”

“Caprisun?” Nobara whispers. “Oh, dude.”

You might be a terrible person for thinking it, but watching this guy’s performance makes you feel infinitely better about your odds of advancing in the tournament.

His final song is a new one he introduces as Frosted Flexin��, and Maki looks like she’s about ready to keel over dead.

“Frosted flexin’, I'm the cereal king, pourin' oat milk in the mix, yeah, I'm doin' my thing,” Sukuna spits in his low voice, swaggering up to the front of the stage. You are trying so hard not to lose it.

“Sukuna being an oat milk truther wasn’t on my bingo card,” Toge says.

“Got the swag of a squirrel and the brain of a dove, call me trash, but you're still showin' me love.”

“Thoughts on the amount of swag a given squirrel possesses?” you ask Takuma. He laughs, loud and bright, and then seems to very seriously consider the question.

“I don’t know if campus squirrels have swag. They live in luxury. They probably eat better than we do,” he says. You can’t argue that—you did once see a squirrel outside your sociology class run by with a full bagel in its mouth. “The wilderness squirrels, though, I think they got a scrappy kind of swag. Like, I wouldn’t cross them.”

You nod sagely. “I want them on my team in the apocalypse.”

He nudges you with a shoulder. “Am I on your team?”

You glance at him, make a show of looking him up and down. Maybe you’re imagining it, but you think he’s blushing a little. “I don’t know. How fast can you climb a tree?”

Sukuna is nearing the end of his song, now, saying, “Off-tune, out of sync, yeah, I know it's a sin, but you'll play it back twice 'cause I still might win.”

He actually, physically drops the mic and Hakari swoops in and catches it, clearing his throat and saying into it, “Yep, friendly reminder that equipment’s expensive! Everyone give our last artist of the night a hand, yeah?”

There’s scattered applause and more than a few confused faces as Sukuna lopes off stage, and Panda hops back up to explain the voting system for anyone who wasn’t here last week. “QR codes to the Google form are posted around the bar,” he says.

Out of all eight artists, the bottom two will be eliminated. You’re nervous. But voting was open last week too. You can’t vote as a member of the band, and it’s all done through school Google accounts to avoid double votes or the link getting sent out to non-students.

“Open until tomorrow morning,” Panda reminds the audience. “Results and second round schedules will be posted on the Instagram at some point tomorrow! That’s it for this Friday at The Fix. Have a great night, folks. Get home safe.”

Gojo whoops dramatically from the bar, and Panda gives him a weird look before getting off stage.

Your friends start heading toward the door, and you grab Toge and excuse yourself to catch Geto at the bar. Gojo sees you first. “The newsies!” he calls.

“Like the musical?” you say in lieu of a greeting. “Banger soundtrack.”

“I could dance on newspapers,” Toge says.

“Geto!” The Fix’s other owner smiles at you, soft and genuine. Part of his dark hair is pulled back and the rest hangs loose over his shoulders, a stark contrast to Gojo—like the Kamos, you think, or like Nanako and Mimiko. Light and dark. “We were wondering if you’d be down to set up a time to talk. Has Gojo told you about our story at all?”

Geto smiles, drying a glass and leaning against the bar. “He told me he’s gonna be the front page of every paper in the city, which I assume is a horrid exaggeration,” he says. Gojo looks affronted. “Shoko mentioned you’re doing a feature for class, though. I’d be happy to.”

“We have our Monday night class time open for field reporting the week after this one,” Toge offers. “Will you be around?”

“I will indeed. Utahime, too, if you want to speak to both of us. And Gojo won’t be here, which might be beneficial for you.”

“Suguru,” Gojo gasps, pretending to stagger back. “You wound me.”

“Mhm,” he says, unaffected. “What time works best for you two?”

You set up a time to interview Geto and Utahime, then say goodbye to him and Gojo and run to catch up to your friends. It’s a nice night, and since you didn’t have to deal with instruments, you all decided to walk.

“How goes the… journalisming? Journaling?” Takuma asks when you fall into step beside him.

“Good, all good. Reporting is maybe a better word, but valiant effort.”

“I like journalisming. Can you just submit words to the official dictionary? I’m gonna do it.”

“No,” Toge says, and you blink. He shrugs. “What? I tried once. But the only submission form I could find was for the Bureau of Linguistical Reality and it wasn’t like, a legitimate dictionary form. There’s all these requirements, it’s horrible.”

“What word did you try to submit?” you ask warily, not sure if you actually want to know.

“Some things,” Toge says solemnly, “are better kept secret.”

The night is hazy, only small rays of moonlight piercing through the cloud cover, and you make your way through the campus roads guided only by the streetlamps and Maki’s reliable sense of direction.

Part of you wants to ask Takuma to come over, or Yuji to insist the band come over to his place again, just so you can keep talking. But you have work to do, things to write and transcribe, lists of follow-up questions to make, and that’s only your workload for this one class. You still have exams this week, and you need to study now so you can balance it with rehearsals. Assuming you actually advanced to round two, that is.

And part of you worries you might be taking this too fast, too. You don’t typically integrate people into your life so quickly. You like spending time with Takuma and Kirara and Yuji and even Megumi, though he’s pretty quiet. You just don’t want to jump in too far too fast.

At your place, you say your goodbyes and head up to your room to get some work done. Toge uploads his photos and puts them in your project folder on Drive. And you spend the night doing what you do best, aside from drumming—writing.

Youth for the young: JU alumni run safest live music bar in city limits

You don’t even notice the time until it’s past one in the morning, and you’re nearly asleep at your desk. The dark has crept across your room, the only source of light the desk lamp and your laptop screen. Finally, you push the computer shut and flick off the light, flopping into your bed. A few missed messages pop up when you hold your phone up, wincing at the bright screen.

takuma: just letting you know i made the treacherous journey home safely takuma: many miles of hardship takuma: thought i was gonna die halfway there

You smirk and type out a reply.

you: did kirara have to save you takuma: i resent that takuma: (yes) takuma: wait why are you up it’s so late you: journalisming you: why are YOU up takuma: travel adrenaline takuma: (coding project due monday that i just started) you: TAKUMA

The next text to come through is a voice note, and you can’t help smiling as you hit play and his voice fills the open air of your bedroom.

“Okay, in my defense, I thought it was due next Monday. Which maybe isn’t my defense because it means I just can’t read due dates, or maybe I just can’t read, but I thought I had a lot more time and then one of my classmates texted me asking for help on this block of code and I told him I hadn’t started and he was like oh my god, Ino, it’s due in three days, and I was like no it’s not, we have so much time—turns out we don’t have so much time, so I’m over here staring at my screen until the vessels in my eyes pop—”

He yawns, and it makes you yawn too, despite the screen separating you. “Sorry, agh. Anyway, I have to write this program that uses some kind of randomized generator…”

You find your eyelids fighting gravity, exhaustion washing over you as he explains the project and all the reasons he’s not that worried about getting it done by Monday because actually he’s on a roll and it turns out the code isn’t that different from a similar project he did last year so he can just lift the main blocks over and wow, he’s tired, and you stifle a laugh as the voice memo comes to an end and he says, “Okay, gosh, I should go to bed. You should go to bed. Stop journalisming, Skip, get some sleep. G’night.”

You grin, plugging your phone in and sending him a voice memo of your own.

“I’m done journalisming. Still haven’t written that story on you, though. Night, Takuma.”

The last thing you see before you fall asleep is his reaction to your text. It’s a thumbs up, but after a few seconds, it disappears, replaced with a heart.

—

“I’m gonna die,” Nobara groans.

You’ve been checking Instagram every hour on the hour for the bracket results, but to no avail. The five of you are sprawled out in the living room, a Fleetwood Mac record spinning in the corner, cups of coffee and tea and scattered remnants of breakfast dotting the table and the floor and the windowsill.

You have post notifications on for the Battle of the Bands Instagram page, but you check anyway, as if you somehow missed it.

“Okay,” Maki says. “Cut it out. No phones.”

“Maki,” Toge groans. “How do we live with the suspense?”

“Go around and give a rundown of your week?” Yuta suggests.

“Aw, highs and lows, it’s like elementary school,” Nobara says happily. “I’ll go first! High: annoying slacker guy in my marketing class got a shit grade on the group project and the rest of us got As. Low: Skipper won’t give me Ino lore.”

“Lore,” you mimic. “I don’t have any lore. We’ve known each other for like, two weeks.”

“That’s enough time for lore,” she insists. “What’s your high? Ino?”

“Okay, jeez,” you say. “Maybe it’s that Toge and I had a really good first interview for our project story.”

Toge blinks at you.

“Fine, maybe it’s Takuma.”

Nobara grins in a way you can only describe as malicious. “Okay,” you say, pointing at her. “Low: whatever that is.” She sticks her tongue out at you.

“My low is Skipper bullying me in class,” Toge says. “And my high is she said she’d be my partner, so I’m not gonna fail.”

Yuta nods sagely. “Maki?”

“Uhh,” she says eloquently. “My parents won’t stop pestering me about fall break. But I aced a test on Thursday in anthro, so there’s that.”

“You’re not going home, right?” you ask. She shakes her head resolutely. Maki doesn’t go home unless she absolutely has to—one thing she and Mai actually have in common.

All of your phones go off at once, a mix of buzzes and beeps and Apple watchfaces lighting up, and Nobara screams. “I can’t look!” she cries. “Someone tell me!”

You click on the notification and pull up the post, heart racing.

The first slide is a generic Battle of the Bands announcement with the cool ass graphics you’ve been seeing on the posters. Whoever designs those needs a raise. The second image is the bracket for next Friday, with the first knockout round of three—only one group will move on to the finals. “Who is it?” Nobara asks anxiously, pacing the room. “Oh god, I’m gonna die.”

“Shibuya Incident,” you read off, unable to keep the smile from your face. “Angel.” Nobara groans overdramatically. “And the Kamos.”

You swipe to the next screen, heart in your throat. OCTOBER 18, it reads. THE CULL. CURSED TECHNIQUE. BLACK FLASH.

“Oh my god!” you scream. “Oh my god, we made it!”

Toge yanks you to your feet and starts hopping around the living room, and Nobara shrieks with joy as you pull her into the celebration. Even Maki and Yuta are sporting wide smiles as they watch the three of you bounce around like kids on a sugar rush.

“What, no Sukuna?” Maki teases when you’ve calmed down. Toge clears his throat and does his best impression, going as far as to make his pants sag a little around his waist.

“Frosted flexin’, I’m the cereal king, pourin’… uh, duh nuh nuh, something doin’ my thing,” he says in a deep voice. “Uh… squirrel? Somethin’ fuego, that’s Spanish, uhhh…”

“Oh my god, let me look it up,” Nobara cackles, pulling up SoundCloud. “It’s I’m the king of bad decisions, got a throne made of Legos, took a bite of my mic and said these bars are fuego.”

Yuta physically winces. “Does he really sag his pants like that?”

Toge shrugs. “It felt right in the moment.”

“Wait, who’s the other one eliminated, then?” you ask, running through the bands in your head. Yours, Takuma’s, Black Flash, the Kamos…

“Motion Capture,” Maki says.

“No, it’s all caps. You have to shout it. MOTION CAPTURE!” Toge hollers. Nobara snorts.

You aren’t entirely surprised, but you have a feeling the girls aren’t too put out about it. They’re young, too—they’ll have their time to shine eventually.

You grin, flopping back onto the couch. “Okay, rehearsal when? Tonight?”

“Yeah, I have to go to a friend’s to figure some stuff out for a project, but I’ll be back at like… five?” Yuta says.

“Oh, fuck, I gotta go too!” Nobara says, darting toward the stairs.

“Group project?” Maki asks.

“Shopping! I gotta pick Miwa up in like, ten minutes!”

Maki rolls her eyes fondly. Yuta stands up and grabs his bag, heading toward the entryway, and the rest of you gravitate instinctually to the kitchen. Nobara is out the door moments later with a wave and a shout, and Toge grins.

“What,” Maki deadpans, not a question.

“I printed memes to hide on her Polaroid wall. Be right back.”

You snort, turning your attention to the window to watch Nobara cruise down the block. The view of her sleek, small car is interrupted by Yuta’s jungle of plants.

“I hope they’re not too cold,” he says, frowning as he tugs a jacket on over his white hoodie. “Do they look okay to you?”

“Yeah,” you say, pointing to the one in the white, ovular pot. “Especially this one, it’s getting so big! What’s his name, Snorlax?” Yuta had a phase where he named at least six plants in a row after Pokèmon.

“No, that one’s Rika, after that TV show,” Maki corrects, not looking up. Yuta blinks, looks between her and the plant, whose vines have started to creep up the window. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. Both of your eyes on her have her looking up from her phone, expression flat and unaffected. “What?”

“Yeah,” he says slowly. “I didn’t know… anyone paid attention.”

Maki shrugs. “You talk to them out loud.”

“Yeah, I guess I do.” Yuta laughs and waves one last time before he walks out, closing the door behind him. You count to five in your head and then whirl on Maki, entirely unable to keep the shit-eating grin off your face.

“Kowalski, status report.”

She blinks at you. “What?”

“I said—”

“No, I know, just—on what? What happened?”

You groan, dragging the heels of your hands down your face. “Maki. Please.” You gesture wildly between her and the door, wondering if she’s genuinely this oblivious or if she’s just as good a liar as Mai. “Are you—did we not just witness the same interaction? Jesus, Maki, put the boy out of his misery!”

Seeing Maki frazzled is not a common occurrence. The most agitated you ever see her is talking about her family or trading passive aggressive jabs with Mai. This is an entirely new sort of disarray—she’s flustered.

“I—what?! I can’t do that! And he’s not miserable. He’s that nice to everyone.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands with your elbows on the counter. “Maki! He likes you. And your face is telling me you like him back.”

She scoffs, turning her head down and crossing her arms defensively. “I’m not messing things up by dating my bandmate. We live together, Skip, he’s my best friend, if things got messy—”

You hold up a hand. “First of all, offensive. I’m your best friend. Second of all, I hear no denial. Also, it won’t get messy. You are the two most mature people in this house and you know how to separate personal from practical. If anything, it’s gonna kill the vibes of the band and the house if you just keep stewing in the sexual tension.”

“Oh my god,” Maki groans. “There. Is. No. Sexual. Tension.”

“There’s always sexual tension,” Toge announces, walking in and jumping up onto the countertop, legs swinging. He looks between the two of you innocently. “What are we talking about?”

“You might be of some help, actually,” you say, turning to Toge with your hands clasped.

“Uh, actually? Not oh, Toge, you’re always so helpful, thank god you live with me and keep my life interesting—”

“Nevermind.”

“No, pleeease,” Toge insists, sticking out his lower lip. “What?” His gaze shifts to Maki, who’s blushing a furious red. His mouth turns into a small O. “This is about Yuta?”

You didn’t think she could get any more scarlet, but here she is.

“Does everyone think that?” she groans, throwing her head back in exasperation.

Toge shrugs. “I thought we were all just quietly skirting around it until you both snapped.”

“Nobara doesn’t skirt around anything,” Maki says.

“Well, there’s no way she doesn’t know,” you point out. “Maybe she just respects both of you enough to leave it alone.”

“Hah!” Toge snorts, poking you in the ribs. “That means she doesn’t respect you. She wants the Ino lore.”

“I’m gonna tell Nobara about the memes.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Abruptly, you realize you never got around to Yuta for highs and lows, what with the chaos of the brackets dropping. “Ah, guys,” you say. “We missed Yuta.” You pull up the house group chat.

you: YUTA DROP YOUR HIGH AND LOW IN THE CHAT you: YOU ARE NOT FORGOTTEN freak no. 1: yes you are utah: haha aw that’s nice utah disliked a message from freak no. 1 utah: uhh low is maybe that toge keeps leaving memes all over our room. like i keep finding them tucked in my notebooks and everything freak no. 1: SLANDER freak no. 1: LIBEL you: not the same thing freak no. 1: SHUT UP utah: high is someone remembers the names of my plants!! :) nobara: Sorry, using voice text while I drive. Who knows the names of your plants? You and God? utah: maki! :)

“Okay, well, respond,” Toge says, poking Maki in the side. She glares at him and likes Yuta’s message.

“Guys,” she says exasperatedly. “What the hell am I supposed to do? Does he know?”

And you’re not sure, honestly. You don’t know that Yuta is even aware of his own feelings, let alone aware that Maki reciprocates them. You shrug helplessly. “How about… ask?”

“Jesus,” Maki says.

“Not him, Yuta.”

Maki socks Toge in the shoulder and levels him with a disdainful look. “You are the bane of my existence.”

“And the object of all your desires,” Toge proclaims in a horrendous Bridgerton accent. He made you watch all of it with him in two days. Maki refused.

Now, she just shoves him, and he squeals as he falls off the kitchen counter.

“Children,” you sigh. “Do you need to be separated?”

“Yes!”

—

“Why is this so hard?” You stand with your feet planted on Takuma’s skateboard, which is confoundingly, entirely different than balancing atop your longboard. “Oh my god.” You lurch forward as the board rolls a bit to the left, unable to stifle the squeal that comes out of your mouth.

Takuma stops it with one foot.

“Your center of balance is lower on a longboard,” he laughs. “Like, here.” His hands wrap around your waist and you tense under his grip, and he immediately freezes, jerking his arms back. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”

“No! No, it’s okay,” you blurt, sheepish. “I just wasn’t expecting it, I—here.” You try to fight the blush furiously rising in your cheeks as you take his wrists in both hands, putting them back where they were. You clear your throat, suddenly too warm. “Um. Okay, so—do you turn the same way?”

“Pretty much. You just lean,” Takuma says, and you shift your weight to your heels, letting him steady you. “It’s a bit harsher than you would on a longboard, though. Unless you want me to send you right into kickturns?” His tone is teasing and you pretend to consider, tapping a finger against your chin.

“Mm. Maybe later.”

You’ve been at the skate park for a while now, and you’ve only recently ditched your longboard for the skateboard. Takuma brought the extra board you saw hanging on his wall the other day, and he uses it to demonstrate while you practice riding back and forth, getting a hold on your balance. After you feel like you can make it a good distance without pinwheeling your arms, you come to a staggered stop beside him.

A flash of blue-green hair grabs your attention, and you watch a kid in a lightning bolt hoodie slip under the ramps. The park has been pretty deserted today aside from a few guys doing tricks in the pit, a chilly Sunday with the sunlight muted by the clouds.

“Ooh, drug deal in action.” You poke Takuma in the side.

“Ah, probably Sukuna. He deals here all the time.” Sukuna’s business is one of those things everyone’s aware of but nobody talks about. He’s consistent and pretty safe, as far as drug dealers go, but he’ll deny any involvement while smoking a joint if he has to.

“Who’s space buns?”

“Uhh…” Takuma narrows his eyes, and the guy slips out again. “Damn, that was fast. Oh, that’s Hajime. Another senior, I think. They hate each other. Fastest deals I’ve ever seen.”

“I wonder how much of his songwriting is just… while he’s really, really high,” you muse. Swag of a squirrel doesn’t strike you as a particularly levelheaded thought, but hey, it’s certainly memorable.

Takuma leans in and says conspiratorially, “I’m pretty sure I heard him dropping bars here the other day when I was with Yuji.”

You snort and look up at one of the smallest ramps, one you think you could handle without falling on your face, and point to it with a raised brow.

“Oh, moving up in the world?” Takuma kicks his board up and starts walking over, and you do the same. Before you put the board down at the top of the ramp, though, you hold it up to the light, noticing a few short, white hairs caught on the surface.

“Is this… fur?” Maybe there was a cat hiding out somewhere when you were over. Kirara seems like she’d have a cat.

Takuma sighs. “Yeah, the dogs shed like crazy. It gets everywhere. I don’t think I even left that on the ground.”

Your jaw drops, and you stare at him until he looks back at you. “Dogs?”

“What? Yeah, Fushiguro’s—”

“Fushiguro has dogs? Dogs plural? In the house?”

“You didn’t know?”

“No!” you cry. “What? Oh my god! Where were they on Wednesday? How many? What are their names?”

Takuma leans back on the rail next to the ramp, grinning. “I can’t believe you didn’t know. Oh my god. They’re so cute. Tsumiki had them Wednesday, I think. Mandated auntie time. Do you wanna meet ‘em?”

“Do I want to meet them?” you repeat, practically bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Uh, yeah. Are they home? Oh my god. I love dogs.”

“I couldn’t tell,” he deadpans, but he’s smiling still. “Yeah, they’re home. And you can meet them if you go down this ramp without dying.”

“You’re cruel,” you say, situating yourself on the board. “But I will. And then I’ll meet the dogs and become their best friend and they’ll love me more than you and Megumi combined.”

“Confident.” He comes up beside you, checking your stance. The ramp didn’t look steep or long at all from your vantage point across the park, but now that you’re atop the board, it feels suddenly very steep and very long. “You got it. Just don’t panic, keep your stance.” He drops his own board and cruises down the ramp, hardly even trying.

“Okay, go!” he calls from the bottom. “C’mon, Skip, the dogs are waiting.”

“Oh, god,” you murmur, the wind catching your words and whisking them away. You ball your hands into fists and push off, planting your foot back on the board and trying to keep your knees bent, but not too stiff, as you careen down the ramp. Don’t panic, keep your stance. You’re at the bottom in what feels like nanoseconds, and the sudden shift from ramp to flat ground has you stumbling off the board with an embarrassingly high-pitched squeak of alarm.

“Nice!” Takuma laughs as he catches you, the board rolling a few more feet ahead. His arm is wrapped around your front, the other holding you up by the shoulder, and this time you don’t tense under his hands.

“Thanks,” you say a little breathlessly, grinning, the tiny spike of adrenaline making you almost lightheaded. He lets his hands drop when you’re steady on your feet, and part of you mourns the warmth a little. But there are more pressing matters at hand. “So, about those dogs?”

You opt for your longboard on the way back down your street, cruising along beside Takuma, who has his extra board tucked under his arm. You’ve got a lot to do tonight, all the last-minute preparation for another crazy week, but you can and will drop everything to pet a puppy. Or two. Always.

And they’re actual angels. Big, fluffy angels on earth, one white and one black, and they’re all over you the second you open the door.

“Hi!” you say happily, sinking down to their level. The white one immediately tries to burrow into your lap. “Oh, hello! You’re so nice, aren’t you?” You glance up at Takuma. “Where’s Megumi?” You grab the white one’s collar and check the tag—Shiro.

“Shiro thinks she’s a tiny dog,” he says, bending down to ruffle the fur behind her ears. “Uh, Fushiguro’s at the animal clinic. He works there Sundays. And Tuesdays, I think.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah, he’s a vet student. You didn’t know?”

“I did not.” The black one is licking your face, and you giggle and check his tag, too. Kuro. “Hi, Kuro. You’re a good boy, aren’t you?”

“He’s got such a soft spot for animals,” Takuma says as he kicks off his shoes. “You should see when they both try to sleep in his little twin bed. It’s ridiculous.”

“I love them,” you say, burying your face in Kuro’s scruff. “Hi, doggies. You’re awful cute, you know that? Mhm. Yes you are.”

When you finally look up again, Kuro’s cold nose nudging insistently at your palm, Takuma is leaning against the wall, looking down at you with his phone discreetly angled your way. “Takuma!”

He laughs, not bothering to hide it anymore, very clearly taking photos of you with the dogs. “It’s cute!” he insists. “I’ll send them to you. Proof for Fushiguro of your master plan to make them like you more than him.”

“And you,” you remind him.

“Well, I don’t know about that.”

You gesture pointedly to the two dogs, who are all over you and not him. It’ll be a nightmare trying to get all of Shiro’s white fur off your black jacket later, but it’s worth it.

“You’re new,” he says. “New scent. It’s the novelty factor. I am their favorite.”

“You sure? I’m pretty hard to compete with.”

He smiles, looking from you to the photos he took of you and the dogs. “Yeah,” he says. “You are.”

—

The first half of the new week goes by in a rushed routine of classes, homework, and rehearsals, each night ending with you collapsing into bed, new and old lyrics fighting for dominance in the back of your mind. Sticks re-taped and drum heads re-tuned, assignments turned in and drafts edited. Your classes are ramping up as midterms approach, and Yuta bounces between his own work and poking his head into everyone’s rooms, making sure they don’t forget about dinner.

Toge follows through on his snack run promise, and the two of you spend hours on Tuesday afternoon trading two different flavored bags of Doritos back and forth, Toge writing photo captions while you edit your story lede.

Takuma, Hakari, and Kirara have offered to help Cursed Technique record a single on Wednesday night, and the five of you have been drilling the new song you wrote up, down, and sideways.

Finally, Wednesday arrives, and you’re all crammed into the recording studio space, instruments set up and headsets tuned in.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Nobara says to Hakari on the other side of the glass. She taps a finger on the mic in demonstration, and you hear it in your own headphones.

“Great,” he says. “Skipper?”

“Skipper? I hardly know her,” Toge says, earning a harmless smack upside the head from Yuta and a not harmless smack upside the head from Maki.

“I will throw these at you,” you tell him, holding up your sticks. Toge sticks his bottom lip out, pouting.

A snicker from beside you draws your attention back to Takuma, kneeling just beside the throne as he adjusts the kick mic. He has you hit it a few times while Hakari monitors the levels. You feel oddly self-conscious like this, him looking up at you, but then he smiles and it’s not strange at all. It’s stupid how fast he can put you at ease with a look.

“Nice,” he says. “Okay, that should work, yeah, Hakari?”

It’s Kirara who answers, “Yeah, you’re good.”

Takuma stands up, claps his hands together once, and looks at you. “Okay. Kill it, Skip.”

“Yessir.” You salute him with a stick and he makes his way to the other room, closing the door behind him.

“All good?” Yuta asks, glancing at each of you in turn before giving Hakari a thumbs up. It’s strange to be on this side of the glass, to think about your music being played back, to think about it on Spotify, out in the world.

“Next Fix,” Takuma says into the mic, locking eyes with you through the window. “Take one in three, two…”

The song starts out simple. You click your sticks together near the mic, on two and four, while Maki lays down a four-bar loop.

Yuta keeps glancing at Maki while she plays, utterly unaware, and the look on his face is so soft you want to shake Maki by the shoulders until she does something about it.

Nobara’s got her eyes closed with the headset over her ears and her hands around the mic, entirely engrossed in the song.

“It’s comin’ on, comin’ strong, spinnin’ up out of the blue, mmm,” she sings, stretching out the vowels. “And I’m on the ground, bleedin’ out, until my next fix of you, ooh.”

Now you start up with a light rock beat, closed hat and a bit of a dragging buzz on the snare hits. Just as you transition into the beat, Toge comes in with some low chords and Yuta moves down the line in syncopated sixteenths.

Hakari is nodding approvingly and Takuma has a wide grin on his face, and you can’t help smiling back.

“I need it like a lung,” Nobara sings, swaying a bit. “I need it like a light. It’s got me twisted up. I need you here tonight, tonight, tonight, oh, oh, I wanna—”

And this part is your favorite—Nobara sings each two-syllable phrase while you pound on the toms twice, emphasizing it with the kick, and then the backup vocals echo her. Get my (get my) next fix (next fix) of you (of you, of you, of you.)

Kirara pumps her fist in the air twice, in time with the beat, and your bandmates can’t keep the smiles off their faces. You’ve got something here, you really do. This might be your best one yet.

When the song’s over, Nobara whoops and tugs off the headphones, jumping around the cramped studio space with a grin on her face. “That was so cool! Oh my god. Guys, we sound good. We actually sound good.”

“Damn,” Kirara calls. “Okay, girl drummer. Good shit.”

“Not bad for a first run,” Maki admits, adjusting her bass strap over her shoulder. “Do we wanna try recording backups separately at all?”

“Good call.” Takuma nods. “Let’s run that again without the backups and record them over, see what happens.” He’s in full producer mode, flipping switches, colored lights reflecting in his eyes as he and Hakari talk shop away from the mic. He’s good at this, you realize, running sessions like this, making sure things go where they need to go, that everyone’s heard, that things get done. It’s a little bit like watching him skateboard, or seeing him on stage. There’s a confidence to him here, a smooth, easy energy. He’s in his element.

“Alright,” he says after a minute. “Let’s hear that again.”

And you play it again. And again. And again. And you are so in love with this moment, with your band, with a couple rowdy kids on the other side of the window, the rasp in Nobara’s voice and the expression on Yuta’s face and Maki’s obliviousness and Toge’s consistent, head-banging keys, and your drums and your words and the music, and the lyrics feel right to you.

You need this like a lung.

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a/n: GUYS. loml @shutuppeter is so downbad for soundcloud rapper sukuna that she's writing fanfic of my fanfic😭 credits for frosted flexin' are all hers LMFAO so go check that out (MDNI for that one though).

yutamaki nation rise. also, i kinda love this fic. there may be spinoffs for other characters in the works...