#doctor assisted suicide

[traumatizedjaguar]

I’m sorry but human rights should never be a debatable subject.

[brokenfoxproductions]

Honestly thinking about euthanasia and suicide and the differences.

Why is it that in America it's "disgusting" and "horrible" if someone doesn't want to live with debilitating physical and mental health conditions, leading people who think they would be better off dead to have their human rights stripped away and get locked in an institution, just making them hate their lives more, but in Canada I could just apply to the government and be allowed to talk to a counselor about it to make sure there's no option to improve my quality of life, try any options the counselor suggests with the government paying for it, and if that doesn't work I'm allowed to die comfortably and peacefully at home surrounded by friends and family?

I don't understand. Why do we act like suffering is a good thing and mercy is evil?

Is there actually a difference whenever you stop clutching your pearls?

[ichayalovesyou]

Is Pike the First Ever Human Delta Radiation Survivor? (More Disabled Pike Thoughts)

Ok I have something that’s been gnawing at my brain regarding Pike and his condition and quality of life (severe chronic pain, extremely reduced mobility and communication etc) and the limitations of his chair and a million other things. You can check out This Post about the Menagerie, and This Post on invisible illness representation if you’re curious about my other takes on this.

This meta is gonna get a little morbid (and possibly triggering) so I’m gonna put it under the cut here just in case:

We know from The Menagerie that in all likelihood that Chris is in no small amount of pain, and extreme chronic pain can have a devastating affect on quality of life. We can also infer that the chair's primary function is life support, preventing his DNA from unraveling to a deadly degree from the radiation, allowing him to be lucid, even if that state is delicate. He is in intensive care on Starbase 11, needs constant medical supervision from Bones, and severe emotional agitation could potentially put him in a coma.

We also know for a fact that Doctor Assisted Suicide is still very much a thing in the 23rd century, considering that McCoy honored his father's request for it from the vision of his past we got in Star Trek V. It is a very complicated topic that is extremely case by case that I am not gonna bat a hornet's nest by taking a side on it one way or the other. Aside from the patient's desires and consent being the most important aspect of anything medical, period.

Pike does not make that decision, even though he absolutely could even with the limitations of a "yes/no" machine, and I don't think it would be at all in character for him to choose to die (suicidal ideation/"high-functioning" depression aside). Potentially he already has by the time we see him in The Menagerie. Even if he is hanging by a thread, is suffering, and there's no cure or rehab on the horizon, he is choosing to live regardless of that.

What if he's the first person to ever survive Delta radiation, what if that chair is the first ever successful attempt at giving someone an lucid, somewhat independent and autonomous life after severe exposure?

I mean I can picture it, an emergency medical team coming in for the Cadets and discovering Pike is still alive and unconscious on the other side of the containment field. A brilliant team of doctor's coming up with a procedural plan to not only save his life, but allow him the opportunity to live a life, however difficult, afterward. The first step in being able to save people from exposure levels that would've otherwise had a 100% mortality rate.

It could be that Pike already knows or learns of this, and knows that such an incredible step forward could lead to even more scientific advancement that would lead other Delta radiation survivors to even more livable conditions, even total recovery in the future. Even if that future does not happen or is not a feasible adjustment in what remains of his lifetime. Not that he would ever choose to die, but that his suffering would still have even more of a purpose than just saving Spock's life and this timeline, but making progress for other people who survived Delta radiation like he had.

Regardless of whether he's made planned or expressed a desire to go to Talos IV that Spock has learned about, leading to his crazy plan in The Menagerie. I think Pike would choose to live, if only partly for that, because if we've learned anything about that guy, he's all about living and giving his life to others. The price to his own wellbeing is and has always been inconsequential.

[lifesucksonyoutube]

The full color version of my tribute to Danny from the non-profit Right to No Longer Exist, a doctor assisted euthanasia organization and podcast. You can see a timelapse of this drawing on my Youtube channel. https://www.therighttonolongerexist.com/

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

A few months after attorneys at Alliance Defending Freedom sued the state of New Mexico for forcing doctors to facilitate physician-assisted suicide against their religious or ethical convictions, Gov. Michelle Lujan Grisham signed into law Tuesday a bill that allows medical professionals to decline such participation for...

[feral-radfem]

my understanding of assisted suicide for terminally ill people is that where it's done by the doctor prescribing pills you have to take yourself, a majority choose to not take them. they express that it's comforting to know that if they pain becomes unbearable, they can make it stop. i am in favour of that kind of assisted suicide being available, as long as it's restricted to physical illnesses that will be fatal withing months anyway. expanding it to mental illnesses is obscene, especially considering how little we actually know about how to diagnose and treat them, or even to what extent they should be considered "illnesses".

Yeah, that pretty much sums up my stance on it too. Like I said I can understand wanting the comfort of knowimg that you don't have to sit there and suffer until you die. That you have that choice.

However, pushing it on to people who are most likely temporarily distressed and/or when there is other solutions that could help them just seems cruel to me. It feels like a easy Band-Aid solution so that the government doesn't have to spend money keeping them as a patient and actually trying to help them. Like the Canadian government is choosing just to throw that human life in the trash because it's not valuable to them monetarily. People deserve better than that.

[anaalnathrakhs]

truly nothing spells out “we live in a hell world” better than the fact we could be having a reasonable discussion about what death means to humans and the logical end of bodily autonomy and all that important stuff, but instead our society and medical spheres are so rotten from the inside out that any advancement in that field is used to coerce disabled people and other marginalized and vulnerable populations into letting themselves be killed off because we don’t feel like offering proper healthcare or proper infrastructure to offer every living person the basic necessities of life

[heres-the-marvel-tea]

Do you guys ever think about how the Illuminati straight up murdered their Dr. Strange

[ratshien]

all the best episodes of the vbros in my opinion do an episode title namedrop somewhere in the episode 

shadowman 9 and the cradle of destiny (cradle of destiny gets dropped i count it), the invisible hand of fate, victor echo november, spanakopita, everyone comes to hanks, the list goes on and on

[kabutone]

i need to kill myself but not in like an immediate way more in like a “not yet ferb” way

[niconebula]

I need you guys to listen so bad, but I’m at least glad people on Twitter are starting to talk about this. The government of Canada is expanding Medically Assisted Death to cull the poor and disabled, and now suicidal and mentally ill (these are usually interchangeable of course here). It is EUGENICS and every single disabled rights organization is against it.

Disability payments are $1,200 a month. The average one bedroom apartment rent in the Greater Toronto Area (greatest pop. area by far here) is $2,000 a month. People with mental illnesses are on months long waitlists to get even a single publicly funded session. Weeks to get privately funded care which costs at least $200 a session. There is no housing here for disabled people. We are in one of the worst housing crises in the world right now.

Doctors are now offering MAiD unprompted to young suicidal people. This woman is 21, a health practitioner literally suggested she kill herself.

This is one of the worst Disability Rights Violations we’ve ever seen in Canada. The government is killing us because it is cheaper than funding healthcare, cheaper than giving people housing and food and basic human rights.

[thewingedwolf]

deeply awful that all the advice for “what to do when a flare up is so bad i feel like i’m gonna die” is “don’t have flare ups” yeah well i’m here and before i was diagnosed with fibromyalgia, if i was in this much pain i went to the ER bc i assumed i was in medical emergency so maybe a little bit more research done on what to do when the flare up inevitably happens would be nice

[reiding-writing]

hi author your writing is great btw i just wanted to see when you would post part 2 of copycat??

copycat [ s.r ] | 2 |

The replication of a disturbing 2004 serial murder case calls for the BAU to get involved with the assistance of none other than the original killer themself. And whilst Spencer didn't work the original case, he was eager to learn every detail about it, including its offender.

WARNINGS: relationship between spencer and reader is not inherently romantic, sociopathic reader, graphic details of murder, graphic eye descriptions, mentions of spencer’s addiction and overdose, morgan and reader really don’t like each other, child abuse, childhood addiction, death by overdose, suicide

s3!spencer/gn!unsub!reader || mystery || 14.3k || masterlist!!

part one !! , part two !!

unsub!reader masterlist!!

a/n: after a whole 22 days of writing this, it’s finally finished 😭 sorry for making you all wait for so long this one was a nightmare to finish-

taglist (slashed blogs couldn’t be tagged): @devilsadvcte @marvellover98 @evvy96 @arlovesper @h3rt8k @pathologicalreid @sideshow-b0b @sunflowersndpeaches @mera3luna @madameparkerreid @fandom-mania @melaninsugababy @meyaareads

“Let’s go Doctor. I’m ready to get out of this beige abomination.”

You push yourself off the table and leave out of the same door that Morgan had, Spencer following closely behind you.

He was oddly grateful about your decency to respect his title, and it only made him want to read you like a book even more.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

The coroner's office, whilst not as bland and beige as the police station was still extremely muted, with light grey walls and a smooth tiled floor that was so shiny you're sure you could see your face in it if you focused enough.

“The second I see a change in your features I am booting you out of the mortuary understood?” Morgan’s tone held nothing but contempt for you as he walked step in step with you like you’d disappear if he looked away for more than a second.

“You keep speaking to me like that and I’ll shove the next rose I get down your throat.”

“Did you just threaten me?” Morgan’s contempt fizzled into a rising frustration, his eyebrows knitted into a tight line and his arms crossed tightly over his chest as if trying to puff himself out like a peacock to look more intimidating.

“Threats hold no value,”

“We should go inside now,” Spencer’s voice was much less confident than either yours or Morgan’s, but it held enough volume to be heard over your argument.

He was seriously beginning to question whether inviting you to come along was a good idea. He knew Morgan despised you, and yet he’d asked you to come along anyway out of his own selfish want to crack open your brain like a book and read your neuron pathways like pages.

He just hoped you’d actually find something valuable in the victim’s autopsy so that all of your arguing with Morgan wasn’t in vain.

“Ah, you must be the agents working on the case, I’m Dr. Toth,” The doctor introduced herself politely as Spencer opened the mortuary door, and Spencer gave her a small nod of recognition as the three of you entered.

“That’s right, thank you for allowing us here,”

“Of course,” The doctor walked her way around the autopsy table, where you assumed the body of the most recent victim was lying, covered by a blue sheet from head to toe and leaving only the silhouette in its place. “I should warn you in advance, due to the damage caused to the eyes whilst removing the rose stems, we had to excise them from the body during the autopsy,”

“Do you still have them?” Your question seems to strike a nerve with Morgan, probably thinking that you want to see the victim’s eyes as a part of a sick fantasy running through your mind, but he bites his tongue to keep his mouth shut so that he doesn’t accidentally air the fact that they’d brought a serial killer into a coroner’s office and freak out the pathologist they’re talking to.

“We do yes, they were professionally removed and placed in hypothermic storage, I can retrieve them for you if you’d like,”

“That won’t be necessary for now,” Morgan’s interjection elicits a roll of your eyes. You weren’t interested in seeing them because it would get you off or whatever, you wanted to see what kind of damage they went through to the point where they had to be fully removed from the victim’s body.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, but if you need my assistance please don’t hesitate to ask,”

“Thank you,” Spencer, the peacekeeper that he is, gives the doctor a polite smile as he picks up a pair of latex gloves and pulls them over his hands, and you and Morgan follow suit after him as he takes place at the end of the autopsy table.

“You’re looking for differences, not entertainment.”

“Yes yes, I get it, Jesus Christ.” You scoff at Morgan’s tone, tugging the sheet down from the victim’s head until it was halfway down his torso.

“His name was Alexander Youlier, age 22, died of blood loss with the roses believed to be inserted post-mortem,” Spencer read through the autopsy file as you examined the boy’s face.

He was pale, much too pale for a normal person, but you suppose that’s what happens when you barely have any blood in your body, and the blood that he did have completely lacked oxygen. His cheeks were sunken, his lips almost blue from the lack of oxygen, and of course, in place of where his eyes would be, there were instead two holes lined with a dark reddish pink muscle that made it look like the cavity was much deeper than physically possible.

The minute you looked at his face you felt like you were going to throw up. So much for being ‘entertained’.

“Oi.” Morgan’s voice ripped you from your state of disassociation. “What did I just say, you’re here to identify the differences not get off to the victim’s body in your head.” He turned his attention towards Spencer with a disapproving look. “I told you we shouldn’t’ve brought them here,”

You didn’t respond to Morgan’s chastising with anything more than a tiny twitch of your eyebrows as you tore your eyes away from Youlier’s face.

“Are you okay?” Spencer’s voice was considerably softer than Morgan's, his eyes big and round, glistening with worry underneath the overhead light in the room, and his eyebrows furrowed in concern at the way you’d suddenly shut down.

“I don’t want to be here anymore.” The end of your sentence is marked by you tearing the gloves from your hands and leaving them in balls on the floor as you retreat to the door of the room.

“What do you think you’re doing? You’re not allowed to just leave. You wanted to be here. You chose to be here. So you’ll do your goddamn job.” Morgan’s anger falls unrecognised as you open the door and slam it behind you after you leave, and he begins to follow after you only to be stopped by Spencer at the door.

“I’ve got it,”

Morgan’s glance is unconvinced, and Spencer reiterates himself once more. “I’ve got it, I promise, they’re less likely to get angry if it’s me and not you,”

Morgan doesn’t get the chance to argue before Spencer runs off down the hallway to catch up to you, leaving him alone in the mortuary to continue his analysis of the autopsy by himself.

“Hey!” Spencer calls out to you as he jogs in your direction, catching you right as you open the door to leave the coroner’s office. “Wait up a second-” You don’t stop at his callings, but he can tell that you’re also not trying to deliberately get away from him, your pace slow and even as you leave the coroner’s office with him hot on your tail.

He’s very clearly out of breath by the time he reaches your side, but he pays no attention to his lungs’ cry for him to take a second to breathe and supply them with more oxygen as he begins questioning you. “Are you okay?”

“I‘m fine,”

He’s not at all convinced by your statement despite your tone conveying genuity. You looked paler than usual, any natural flush was gone from your cheeks and your lips, and you were absentmindedly picking at the nail bed of your thumb with your middle finger, something he assumes is a self-soothing act for you.

People getting disturbed at the sight of a freshly dead body wasn’t exactly something for Spencer to be astounded at. It was a natural human reaction to the incomprehensible knowledge of death that your brain desperately tried to work out with no results.

But you didn’t exactly fit the definition of ‘normal’. You were a sociopath. So for you to be put off by the sight of a dead body was something for Spencer to be astounded at.

Sure he was aware that sociopaths could still feel things like dread and fear of the unknown, but you weren’t just a sociopath. You were a sociopath who killed eighteen people.

You’d seen your fair share of dead people, manic episode or not. So why was this body making you react like you were?

He supposes it’s just another layer he’ll have to peel from your mind like the skin of an onion.

“Did you know that sociopaths have heightened emotional pathways? Every emotion sociopaths experience is allegedly 3 times stronger in intensity than that of someone without it,” He didn’t exactly know what to say to you considering you’d shut down any attempt to talk about how you were doing emotionally, and so he fell back on what he always did, niche facts and statistics.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Your hardened expression didn’t falter, nor did the underlying monotony in your tone, but you did finally look him in the eye.

“I always feel more at ease when I fully understand whatever I’m dealing with,” Spencer smiles at you softly with a shrug of his shoulders, attempting to empathise with you the best he could.

“I already knew that fact,” You take a seat on the small half-wall lining the outside of the coroner’s office, gripping the edge of the brick with your hands. “And it doesn’t make me feel any different,”

“Well…” Spencer purses his lips slightly as he takes a seat next to you, running through things in his head that might hold some sort of value to you. “Did you know that roses symbolise different things based off of their colour?”

He was definitely grasping at straws now, but he didn’t want to end your conversation yet. He wanted to know what had you so perturbed that you felt the need to leave the minute you got a close look at the victim’s body.

If anything he’d expected you to follow Morgan’s accusation about getting some sick gratification from the body, not actually feeling sick because of it.

“Why do you think I used white roses? I’m not stupid you know,”

He’d never thought of that. “You used white roses for a specific reason?”

You shrug, swinging your legs back and forth over the edge of the wall. “When I was younger we had a dog, and when it died my parents planted a white rose bush over where they buried it,”

Your tone is rather emotionally removed as you divulge this little snippet of your past to him, like you were recounting something you’d read from a fictional story rather than an event that most children would find extremely distressing. “Mom said that the roses were white because they symbolised mourning and new beginnings, something about how it would help him pass over into heaven or whatever, and I guess even in my episode I held that knowledge subconsciously,”

“You don’t believe in heaven?” Spencer’s eyes scanned your face as he tried to decipher your micro-expressions, noting the small softening of your eyes once you brought up your parents. Looks like you did indeed still have some humanity.

“Do you believe in heaven Dr. Reid?”

No. Maybe? He knew that once your brain functions stopped working your consciousness was permanently ended and that was it. “I thought I saw the other side once,” His admission shocked himself more than it shocked you. Great, he was spilling his traumas to a sociopath he’d known for less than a week. What a riveting social life he had.

He could see the flicker of intrigue in your eyes at his sentence, and he pursed his lips into a line before deciding to continue. “I uh- 11 months ago I was kidnapped and forcefully injected with Dilaudid, and I- was overdosed…”

He could see the cogs turning in your head as you connected the fragments of earlier conversations with him in your mind to form a cohesive story, and you nodded at him as if encouraging him to continue with his story.

“I blacked out first, but it felt… warm? and I could see the beginnings of a light and I honestly still don’t know what to think of it,” He could feel himself squirming from the recollection. He was a man of science. Someone who only believed in what he could physically see and test. But that brief moment where he was sure that he’d died and was experiencing an afterlife that he didn’t think existed had carved a hole into his brain and settled itself into the back of his mind.

“I hope there’s an afterlife,” Your tone continues to carry that same monotonous drawl, but he can see the genuity in your eyes and the way your hands clench around the edge of the brick wall.

“Me too…”

It’d be easy for Spencer to forget you were a serial killer in moments like this. Sure you were still extremely emotionally stunted, but you felt human. And he’s sure that that’s the real difference between a sociopath and a psychopath.

Psychopaths were born without human ‘defects’. Sociopaths were made.

“Were your parents good to you?” Spencer’s question was full of hesitation. He didn’t want to assume anything, after all, your parents were the one topic you seemed to treat with genuine care in your words, but he knew something had to have happened. Something had to have made you the way that you are.

“My parents were perfect.” Your eyebrows knit into a small line, as if defensive at the fact that Spencer would suggest your parents were anything other than the perfect model of what two caregivers should be.

“What about your biological parents?” He could feel himself retreating back into his own mind the further he pressed for answers out of you, his conscience begging him to just stop talking before he accidentally crossed a line and ruined any branch of communication he’d formed.

“I don’t remember them,” You shrug lightly and your expression cements your nonchalance.

“You’ve never wanted to… seek them out?” It wasn’t entirely surprising that you don’t remember your biological parents. Most children who get adopted really young don’t.

“They’re dead.”

Oh.

Right.

Spencer’s eyes widen slightly at the revelation.

By this point, he’s completely forgotten about the fact that he’s supposed to be convincing you to go back into the mortuary to continue looking at the victim.

You had a great adoptive family and a pair of dead biological parents. Was that what broke you? Was them dying what caused your mental state to shatter and rebuild itself as a fragmented version of its previous state?

Maybe that’s why you didn’t remember them. Maybe your brain had built a wall in your memories to protect you from your own trauma of losing your parents. But he wasn’t sure it was enough for you to have a mental break like you did. There had to be something more.

“I can do some digging on them if you want,” He airs the suggestion like he’s not going to do it even if you say no.

“I have no interest in learning about them,”

Oh well. He’d get Garcia to do it anyway. Maybe you’d find more interest in the topic once there was actually something for you to learn.

“Are you- feeling alright now?” Spencer knew he was going to have to bring up the topic eventually. They couldn’t stay out here for too long both for the sake of the investigation and because if they did Morgan would probably jump to the conclusion that you’d killed Spencer and run off somewhere.

“I told you I was fine,”

“I don’t think I believe you,” Spencer could see the small shift in your expression at his hesitant accusation. But it wasn’t anger this time, it was something else. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “Something caused you discomfort, and in order for you to be able to help us we need you to be relaxed,”

You turned your face away from Spencer as he spoke, eyes fixed on a bird flying overhead and then on the cloud that was behind it.

“What was it that caused you to feel like you didn’t want to be there anymore?” There was clear caution in Spencer’s tone as he questioned you, although that had essentially become a staple of every conversation you had with him by this point. “We can fix it,”

Spencer’s compassion for you left you feeling a little confused. You were a spree murderer. He was supposed to dislike you for that. That’s how the human mind works is it not? People are supposed to have a distaste for those who break the moral codes of society, and you did it 18 times over.

“I… don’t know,” It felt like every second you allowed yourself to be confused the feeling multiplied tenfold until you weren’t even sure that you could remember your own name if somebody asked you for it.

Your emotions were written all over your face, not like you really had the capacity to hide them even if you wanted to, but it was clear as day just how internally confused you were with your own feelings about the situation at hand.

“Let me help you figure it out then,” Spencer’s tone continued to carry that gentle compassion in it and it wasn’t helping you sort out your thoughts.

“I don’t need your help, I can figure it out on my own,” You knew enough about Psychology to be able to figure out your own thinking processes. At least you thought so. You didn’t go through three laborious years at university wishing during every hour of it to be doing something else to not even get anything useful out of it at the end.

Spencer took that as a direct invitation to shut his mouth and just let you think to yourself, although his eyes continued to scan your expression and your body language as he waited for you to come to your own conclusion on how you were currently feeling and what exactly made you feel that way.

“Will you stop staring at me?” Despite your gaze focused downwards towards the pavement your frustration at his lingering gaze made it sound like he was making direct eye contact with you.

“Sorry,” Spencer averted his eyes from you immediately after your order, flickering them around the parking lot of the coroner’s office and absentmindedly reading all of the number plates he could see from a distance so that he didn’t frustrate you anymore than he already had.

You gave up psychoanalysing your own mind after a few minutes, partly because it was an effort you didn’t want to expend and partly because it felt safer for you to just lock your emotions behind a wall of glass and leave them for another day.

Instead, you turned your gaze back to the doctor sitting next to you and watched him as he watched his surroundings.

“Your eyes are very alive,”

It’s an odd thing to say Spencer thinks. The concept of his eyes being ‘alive’. Of course, he’d heard the term ‘dead eyes’ before in reference to the lack of emotion shown on someone's face. He’d consider you to have rather dead eyes if he was thinking about it. Although he’s not sure if you’re referring to his eyes in terms of expressiveness or genuinely being ‘alive’ in a physical sense.

“Alive?”

You give him a short nod. “They have a lot of life in them,”

“Thank you?” He chooses to take your odd statement as a sort of compliment. Surely having ‘alive eyes’ couldn’t be a negative thing, right?

Now that he’s thinking about it you really did seem to have some sort of fixation on people's eyes. You constantly chased eye contact with the people you spoke to. You apparently had a habit of studying people’s eyes and how ‘alive’ they were. You pierced roses into the eyes of your victims.

Spencer’s gaze focused on you as he came to the conclusion in his head. You’d become uncomfortable in the mortuary because you couldn’t see the victim’s eyes. Because instead of being able to judge him based off of the look in his eyes you were instead greeted with a blank slate where they were supposed to be.

But why? Why was your judgement of somebody based off of what you could see in their eyes? Something had to have caused it.

“Why did you put roses in your victims’ eyes?” He could see the flicker of intrigue in your expression at his question, although he was unsure whether it was conscious or not.

From the way you’d spoken earlier about your discomfort, it seemed that your apparent fixation was unknown to even you, a subconscious thought process that even you were unaware of for whatever reason.

“I told you this already, I held subconscious knowledge about what they represented.” You furrow your eyebrows at his question, one that you’d answered a little over five minutes ago. Why was he asking you again? “I thought you had an eidetic memory.”

“I do-” Spencer’s not sure whether to be surprised that you remembered that small snippet of information or not. “I mean, why did you put them… you know, in their eyes specifically?”

A small amount of discomfort seeped into Spencer’s tone as he asked the question. As much as he’d become desensitised to the gruesomeness of what his job held, actively thinking about having somebody’s eyes being physically pierced with a blunt object was something that anyone with two functioning eyeballs would feel uncomfortable about.

“I don’t know, I just did,”

So it was subconscious. Something that the dark void in the back of your mind was aware of but wouldn’t let your conscious self have any knowledge of.

“Would you like to help me analyse the victim’s eyes? The pathologist said they were still being stored,” Your eyebrows turn from furrowed to raised, clearly confused by Spencer’s sudden fixation on eye-related things.

“They could be a useful asset to the investigation,” Spencer shrugged softly, lips pressed into a line, an awkward smile present on his face as if his suggestion was completely unrelated to the conversation.

You found yourself agreeing to Spencer’s suggestion despite that lingering discomfort in the back of your mind, and as the two of you stood up to re-enter the coroner’s office, Spencer pulled out his phone to send an email to Morgan.

‘Cover the victim’s face.’

Morgan had clearly read the message before the two of you arrived back at the mortuary, shooting Spencer a glance of confusion as you entered the room ahead of him, eyes already locked on Youlier’s body as if you were drawn to it by some unexplainable force.

Of course, with the blue sheet now placed back over the victim’s head, you couldn’t actually see anything, but you still had the image of his face in your head, causing a sense of unease to remain in your stomach, although not as bad as when you were originally presented with it.

Spencer gave Morgan a small shake of his head as if to shut down this conversation for later, leaving your side to seek out the pathologist so she could retrieve Youlier’s eyes from storage.

He returned not two minutes later, freshly gloved with a glass jar in hand, two vaguely spherical shaped objects floating inside it.

Morgan saw them before you did, his expression widening and then furrowing at the sight of just how ripped up these eyes seemed to be. “How on earth did they end up like that?”

Morgan’s question is enough to pique your curiosity and rip your gaze away from the victim's covered-up face, walking up behind Spencer to look at the jar over his shoulder.

“Dr Toth said the damage was from the thorns on the roses,”

You examine the jar as Spencer explains how they ended up in the state they were in, and you had to agree that Morgan’s bewilderment was right.

They barely even looked like a pair of eyes anymore. They were more ovular than spherical, with two gaping holes where the pupil and iris should be, and countless tear lines all over the scleras, presumably where the killer had struggled to push the stems through the eyes from the resistance of the thorns. Although, you couldn’t deny that seeing them somehow ailed any lingering discomfort in your stomach.

“Well that’s just stupid,”

Spencer jumped from your statement like he hadn’t even realised you were standing behind him, almost fumbling the jar out of his hands in the process.

“…maybe you’re just stupid…” Morgan’s muttering doesn’t go unnoticed, and you shoot a glare in his direction that he mirrors right back at you with just as much venom.

“What’s stupid?” It takes Spencer a second to regain his bearings, but once he does he turns his attention to you with round eyes and a slightly tilted head, eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly.

He watches as your focus shifts back and forth between the eyes in the jar and his own as if you were trying to visualise what he’d look like with the ripped-up excuse for a pair of eyes instead of the ones he currently had.

“Obviously you should de-thorn the roses first,” Your tone carried your phrase like you were telling him that you shouldn’t put metal in a microwave rather than de-thorning a rose before piercing someone’s eye with it. “This guy’s on what, their fifth victim? You would’ve thought they’d figured that out by now,”

You take the jar from Spencer’s hand to get a closer look at the remnants of the victim’s eyes from a better vantage point.

“I mean come on, I figured it out after my first try,” You’re edging into a rant about the intricacies of how to most productively pierce somebodies eyes with rose stems now, and it was beginning to remind Spencer that you had in fact actually done all of these things and it wasn’t just hypothetical. “It literally takes like ten seconds per rose if you know what you’re doing and then saves you five minutes of effort,”

Morgan takes the jar from you like you’re a child with a bottle of bleach, a scowl still etched on his face as you give him an incredulous look.

“I’m not going to like eat them or whatever, god-”

“Knowing your track record I wouldn’t be surprised if you did,” Morgan places the jar down on the small table by where the victim is lying.

“One, that’s disgusting, two, what the fuck?” Spencer finds your bewilderment at Morgan’s suggestion that you might eat the victim’s eyes quite amusing on a surface level, your response sounding like something a high schooler would say rather than a prolific serial killer.

“What? You’re the type of sick bastard that would probably get off on that sort of thing,” Morgan shrugs his shoulders as he turns back around to face you once more.

“I was experiencing a manic episode, I’m not some weird sadist who has a fetish for eyeballs,”

‘Not a fetish, but something,’ Spencer chooses to keep to himself during your squabble this time, walking over to the autopsy table to hike up the blue cover sheet and check for other injuries lower down on the body.

There’s nothing truly substantial, with no defence wounds courtesy of the blow to the back of his head before the attack, another staple of your spree to keep your victims complacent. The only thing of note was the two gashes across each wrist, severing both radial arteries, the source of the bleeding-out portion of his death.

He had to give you props on that part. The average time it took somebody to bleed out was only 3 and a half minutes, meaning it was a pretty effective way to kill somebody with minimal effort and ensure they were completely dead before any first responders might have time to arrive even if they were called immediately after the gashes were made.

It was very controlled, much more of an execution than a murder if he was to really think about it, especially considering all of your victims were unconscious when it happened and therefore probably didn’t even feel anything aside from the original blow to the head.

For a serial killer, it was actually very humane. Even if you did go out of your way to desecrate their eyes afterwards. But was the real harm in that, they were already dead anyway, it’s not like they felt it.

It ruled out any sort of sadism from your spree, one of the reasons he thinks your story of a manic episode was so easily accepted in court. You weren’t killing people for the fun of it. You didn’t drag it out or make it unnecessarily painful. It was like you were just following the steps of how to kill somebody with as minimal effort as possible to satisfy whatever violent urges you had in your head at the time and then fulfilling the apparent subconscious fixation you had with eyes by covering them with roses.

“Wow, this guy really has no idea what he’s doing-” You again cause Spencer to almost jump out of his skin as you appear behind him once more, looking at the gashes over his shoulder.

You reach out to touch one of them, stopped by a harsh hand on your wrist from Morgan, who continues to glare at you like you’d set his house on fire. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Checking out the shitty incision work from this stupid ass copycat?”

“Put some gloves on you idiot,” Morgan drops your wrist with a scoff, walking across the room to pull out a pair of latex gloves from one of the boxes and shoving them into your palms.

You roll your eyes at his attitude but tug on the gloves anyway, making a show of raising your hands up in his face once you had them on. “Happy now?”

With a swat of your wrist away from his face Morgan concedes to stop antagonising you for now and let you focus on whatever you were originally doing, which you turn to do immediately like you’d completely forgotten about Morgan’s existence as soon as he exited your peripheral vision.

“What is it?” Spencer’s eyes follow yours down to the victim’s left wrist, and he watches as you prod at the gash with your gloved fingers as if trying to pry it back open.

“This is probably the shittiest attempt at bleeding someone out I’ve ever seen,” You bend down with narrowed eyes as you examine the wound. “It’d probably take like 20 minutes from a cut this shallow,”

Spencer can’t help but agree with your assessment. The cut was extremely shallow, so much so he’s sure that this victim probably could’ve survived it if he’d gotten immediate medical attention. He checks the other wrist just to be sure, and he’s granted with the same sight, an extremely shallow cut for somebody actively trying to kill people.

“So, what? He just sat around for twenty minutes whilst Youlier bled out so he could put the roses in his eyes?” Morgan furrowed his eyebrows at the revelation. “What sense does that make?”

Can they be sure that they were inserted post-mortem?

Spencer walked around the table towards the autopsy report to re-read the file in case he’d somehow missed that detail whilst reading it the first time.

Alexander Youlier. Age 22. Died of blood loss with the roses believed to be inserted post-mortem.

He hadn’t missed anything. But then that didn’t make sense. There was no way that the killer would just wait around for almost half an hour for somebody to bleed themselves dry, especially considering that Youlier was found under an open gazebo in a dog park. That would just be reckless. For it to work the roses would have had to be inserted whilst he was still alive.

“Having an epiphany over there or something?” Spencer turns his eyes upwards at your comment, leaving the report on the side table as he walks into Dr Toth’s side office without giving you an answer.

You and Morgan share a glance at his sudden departure, probably the most civil interaction the two of you had ever had, fuelled by the joined want to know what was running through Spencer’s mind.

The door of the office opened less than a minute later, Dr. Toth leaving her office with Spencer hot on her trail. “-reports from the main office so that you can cross-reference them all,”

You only catch the end of their conversation as they enter back into the mortuary, and Dr Toth leaves the room to assumedly go and gather whatever ‘reports’ she was on about from the main office, leaving you and Morgan blankly staring in Spencer’s direction with confused expressions.

“I think that our unsub might be inserting the roses into the victim’s eyes whilst they’re still alive,”

The revelation that the unsub was purposefully dragging out the death of their victims made the team have to rebuild the profile from the bottom up.

Spencer took the opportunity to do some digging. Or more accurately have Garcia do some digging.

He had her pull everything humanly possible regarding your biological parents, their life, their death, and most importantly, how they treated you.

They were 29 and 32 when they died, you having been born when your mother was only 23. They both had a history of substance abuse, and according to their autopsies, both of them had lethal levels of diazepam in their bloodstreams at their time of death.

What was interesting about their deaths though was that they were dead for three days before they were found, rotting in their own house with a six-year-old left living with them. Now that was something that could cause a mental break. A six-year-old, left for three days with the corpses of their dead parents and only found when the neighbours complained about the smell.

The file Garcia had faxed over also happened to have images from the scene when the bodies were recovered, and they were just as disgusting as he’d imagined they’d be. The two were sat paired on a couch, skin pale and turning slightly grey with the beginning signs of decay, small insects roaming on their skin, and the clothes they were wearing.

But the selling point for Spencer was their eyes. Wide open and staring blankly into open space with clouded pupils and ruptured irises. It freaked him out and he was looking at it through a piece of paper. He couldn’t imagine how it made a six-year-old child who lived with them like that for three days feel.

There was the origin of your eye fixation, and he honestly couldn’t blame you for covering the dead stare of your victims so you wouldn’t have to relive that.

The more he read the more devastating the report seemed to be. When asked why you didn’t call for any help from neighbours or the police you stated that you “just wanted them to sleep for a while,” and that your mother would “give me the sleepy pills when she wanted me to go to sleep, so I did the same for her and daddy,”

In an effort to get your parents to go to sleep so they would stop presumably treating you horribly, you’d unintentionally overdosed them both.

You were in a paediatric rehabilitation centre for almost four months after you were recovered from the house. A six-year-old. Being rehabilitated for an addiction to diazepam because your parents would solve any blip in your behaviour by feeding you sleeping pills instead of treating you like the child you were.

All of a sudden forming an addiction at 25 didn’t seem all that detrimental anymore.

He supposes that’s how you knew right off the bat. Addiction recognises addiction and all that. Although by the look of it, you’d made a full healthy recovery by the time you were adopted into your new family.

You’d been diagnosed with ASD after you were removed from the house, and Spencer is surprised by the fact that the mental impact it had on you only seemed to be acute, although, he’s sure that in hindsight the psychiatrist that diagnosed you would’ve made sure to be more thorough in their examination of your mental state.

Still, what happened had happened, and although Spencer nor anyone else could do anything to change that, he could form a greater understanding of who you were and why you did what you did.

Except he still didn’t really know why, he knew the origins, but what was the trigger that caused you to deteriorate mentally until you were back at your lowest possible point?

That wasn’t important right now.

He needed to focus on the actual case at hand and not the closed case of a serial killer from four years ago. It didn’t matter how much of a fascination he’d formed with your psychology, he needed to focus so that no one else had to die.

It was insane to think about, just how distracted he’d get with uncovering your past like it was a mystery novel that required the reader’s involvement to solve.

But now he really needed to knuckle down and actually put his intelligence forward to help the team find the unsub they were looking for or else earn a chastising from Hotch and up to 13 more victims if they followed your pattern to a T.

Why you though? Why was this unsub following your crimes specifically? Sure some people were mentally deranged enough to want to gain the same notoriety as the killers they replicated, but your case was in a small city and didn’t even make national news. Not only that, it was new. Really new.

Most copycat killers replicated national or even international-level crimes that had decades to form a legacy and settle into the back of people's minds. Your case wasn’t like that. Not to the full extent anyway. The state of California had recognised you as a prolific killer but in any other state your name was unknown.

So why you?

Spencer watched intently as the team scribbled down notes and ideas on the whiteboards taking up most of the room, leaving him sitting at the head of the conference table with his files on your background and you engaging yourself in the pass-time of making origami cranes out of discarded bits of paper to stop yourself from getting bored.

A serial killer replicating your crimes almost step by step. Bleed out the victims, put roses in their eyes, move on. Same victim pattern. Same time frame. But still with distinct differences.

This unsub bled their victims out considerably slower than you did. They used red roses instead of white roses like you did. They left the thorns on the rose stems when you pruned them beforehand.

Why did this unsub not de-thorn the roses first? After five separate murders, why would they not make their process easier by discarding the thorns to stop them from tearing up the victim’s eyes?

‘I figured it out after my first try.’

“Hey uh-” Spencer turns his head up towards you, tapping his pen absentmindedly against the table. “Do you remember what happened to your first victim? After your parents?”

“What?” You furrow and then raise one of your eyebrows at his sudden question, especially because he’d been sitting in his own little cocoon for the last thirty minutes.

It was quite a long shot of a question if you had been experiencing mania at the time, but you seemed to be remembering select details about your spree, so your first victim surely should be present in your mind at least somewhat.

“How did you… You know-” Spencer’s roundabout question was half amusing and half frustrating from your viewpoint, and you take a break from your paper crafts to indulge in it.

“Well…” You drag out the word and you divert your eyes from him to stare upwards towards the ceiling like it’ll aid your memory. “I incapacitated her first, with a… brick I think? It might’ve been a regular rock I’m not sure-”

“Him.” Morgan’s venom seeps into his correction of your account. “You killed eighteen people and you don’t even have the decency to remember the gender of your first victim? Seriously?”

“I do know my own victim pattern thank you very much,” You override Morgan’s correction with just as much ferocity. “ And it was definitely a woman. I chose her specifically because she’d be easy.”

“That’s not what our files say.”

“Then your files are wrong? What do you want me to do about it?”

Spencer runs over your victims in his head. Your first filed victim’s name was John Brandy, found lifeless on a park bench after a woman walking her dog called it in to the police.

He tried to remember any other things he’d read about your case that might indicate that Brandy wasn’t your first victim. Nothing. John Brandy was the only thing he could affiliate with the identity of the first victim from your spree. And most notably, Brandy was very male.

“…What did you do after you incapacitated her?” Spencer slowly edges his way back into a conversation between you and Morgan, mind on full alert as it continues to run through all of the details he knows about you and your case.

“I moved her against the like wall of the street we were down and then did the rest of it,” You shrug your shoulders in mild scepticism of Spencer’s sudden interest in this specific kill of yours. “You know, cut the wrists, wait a few minutes, then stick in the roses. Although I’m pretty sure I got one rose like half in because the thorns were being difficult and I gave up when she started twitching,”

You exhale exasperatedly. ”That’s probably why she’s not ‘in your files’, because the rose I did try and do wasn’t even fully inserted and probably just fell out or something,” You glare pointedly at Morgan, tilting your head back and forth in condescension. “It was my first time alright? Everyone’s gotta start somewhere.”

Sure everyone’s gotta start somewhere. When it comes to working a job or starting a hobby. You don’t usually ‘start somewhere’ when it comes to murdering people.

It’s the fact that you say it so nonchalantly that gets to him, talking about your murder spree of eighteen people like it was you learning how to bake a cake. Nineteen people. You’d actually killed nineteen people in your spree, and your poor first victim probably didn’t even get given the light of day that the rest of your victims did when it came to justice.

“Morgan,” Hotch’s voice proved to pull Spencer out of yet another spiral consisting of endless questions surrounding your psychology, even if not directed at him. “Call Garcia and have her pull up any unsolved murder cases that involved two slit wrists and trauma to the eyes in Malibu during the time they were active as a killer,”

“On it,” Honestly, Morgan would’ve taken any excuse to get out of your presence for a few minutes, feeling the overwhelming urge to punch you square in your face grow stronger with every snippet of information about yourself that you shared out loud without a single care in the world.

Did it have anything significant to catching this copycat? No. But that victim deserved just as much justice as any of your others.

One profiler down, the rest of the team turned back to fleshing out the profile, and you turned back to your half-finished paper crane, muttering to yourself under your breath about something that Spencer couldn’t quite hear.

“Okay, so we’ve ruled out mania as a possible cause of the kills because of how long it took for them to bleed out, we’ve ruled out paranoia because of the victim pattern following the original to a T instead of being random, it could be some form of ASD but that doesn’t really make sense with the rest of the profile-” Emily scans over the notes of the whiteboard as she speaks, picking absentmindedly on the red polish covering her nails and leaving small flakes of it all over the table by where you’re sitting.

“Would you stop doing that?” You make a show of wiping the table with your hand, and Emily doesn’t respond to you with more than a glance as she stuffs her hands in her pockets.

“Alright babygirl thank you,” Morgan sends a kiss through the phone before hanging it up and putting it away in his pocket and you swear you almost gag at the sight of it.

“Nothing,” Morgan shrugs his shoulders half out of resignation and half out of frustration as he takes a seat opposite you on the table. “There are no unsolved murders matching the description you gave us,”

He glares into your eyes like he’s trying to burn them right out of your eye sockets. “So? What is it? You get a kick out of lying or what?”

“Do I look like the type of person who makes the effort to lie? Because news flash, I don’t, it’s not like saying I killed one more person than I actually did benefits me in any way,” You furrow your expression with a scoff, leaning back in your chair to rest your ankles on the table.

“Right, sure, because someone like you totally doesn’t care about how they’re perceived by other people,”

“Why would I want to say I’ve killed more people than I actually have, it just makes me look more crazy than you already think I am-” You weren’t backing down on this. You were adamant that this person was your first victim and that you weren’t lying to him.

“Then why isn’t there any file of her whatsoever?”

“What if she’s still alive?” It’s like all of the puzzle pieces fall into Spencer’s mind at once, and he interrupts your arguing with Morgan yet again, except this time it’s not about keeping the peace.

“You said you gave up because ‘the thorns were being difficult and she started twitching’, was she alive when you tried to put the rose in her eye?” Spencer turns his gaze towards you, a completely different air surrounding his expression than the mildly awkward and apprehensive one you’d gotten used to.

“I don’t know, maybe?” You shrug like his question was absurd, watching as he stands from his seat to look over the whiteboard detailing the autopsies of each of the victims.

“Reid?” Hotch’s raised eyebrow asked a hundred different questions, and Spencer answered every single one of them with a single phrase muttered under his breath.

“…PTSD by proxy-”

He takes a second to study the photos on the board before continuing. “It’s a psychological disorder where victims of PTSD will project their trauma onto others,”

He pulls a few of the images from the board to lay them out on the conference table. “Of those who develop PTSD from traumatic incidents, roughly 2% then go on to try and satiate their trauma by projecting it onto other people,”

“If what you remember about your first victim was true and she survived, then there’s a high chance that the new killer we’re looking for is that first victim,” He arranges the autopsy photos in two groups, with one of the wrist gashes and the other of the eye damage.

“The victims bled out slowly, which in a lot of cases with first-time murder or murder attempts happens unintentionally because the killer doesn’t know how deep a cut like that has to be for it to be fatal,” He points towards the photos on the left first.

“And then the eyes would be pretty self-explanatory,” He turns one of the photos towards where you and Hotch are sitting. “If your first victim was in fact alive when you tried to pierce her eyes then that could explain why these victims were also still alive when the roses were inserted,”

“But that doesn’t make sense,” Emily chimes in with her two cents as Spencer gives his explanation. “We’re in a completely different city,”

“And it’s been three years since the original spree,” Rossi swirls the coffee in his mug with a furrowed expression.

“Well Las Flores is only an hour's drive from Malibu,” Spencer moves from the table to go back over to the annotated map on one of the boards, marking an invisible line with his fingers. “Maybe she decided she needed to get away from her trauma, 46% of individuals who experience life-changing trauma do,”

“But why now?”

Spencer’s eyes turn back towards you at Rossi’s question, as if you held all the answers to what the stressor was for this sudden murder spree. Your answer of course was nothing more than a shrug and an expression that asked ‘How am I supposed to know?’, which put a halt to Spencer’s theory.

That, and the fact that they hadn’t even confirmed if this woman was still alive let alone living in Las Flores.

“Alright,” Hotch cut through the team’s conversation with a wave of his hand. “Morgan, ask Garcia to track down women who went into the hospital for ocular injuries three years ago and have moved to Las Flores since then,”

Morgan gives him a determined nod as he leaves the room once more, Hotch then turning his attention towards you.

“What have you done in the last few months that would’ve been told to the public?”

“I don’t know?” You give him an exasperated expression and raise your hands in a defensive manner. “Why would I know that? It’s not like I have someone telling me when I’m on the news,”

Hotch furrowed his eyebrow at your immediate defensiveness, reminding himself to be patient and bear with your short fuse because it technically wasn’t your fault.

Although it didn’t make it any less frustrating either way.

He turned his eyes towards Spencer, gesturing towards the door and then towards you as a silent order for him to speak to you privately outside.

If anyone was going to be able to get a piece of information out of you, consciously or subconsciously, it would be Spencer.

It took him a few seconds to compute Hotch’s message, but as soon as he did he stood from his seat, mug in hand.

“I’m going to make some more coffee, do you want some?” Spencer gives you a small and slightly awkward smile as he looks at you, and you raise an eyebrow in his direction.

“You don’t know how to make my coffee,”

“You can show me,” Spencer raises his eyebrows enthusiastically, lips pressed taut into a line as he silently prays for you to take the bait. And you do.

You don’t respond with more than pushing your chair away from the table to stand, but Spencer follows after you as you leave the meeting room nonetheless, gaining a small nod from Hotch that he returns with one of his own.

In the break room, Spencer watches you prepare your coffee, taking mental notes of the precise amount of creamer and sugar you add. He's careful to keep the conversation casual, asking about your preferences and subtly steering you towards the topic of recent events.

"I got a new therapist a few months ago," you admit, stirring your coffee. "She recommended having me moved into psychiatric care." The implication hangs clearly in the air.

"Psychiatric care?" Spencer echoes, his mind eagerly piecing together the information.

“Mhm,” You give him a small nod and you leave the teaspoon on the counter, taking a sip of your coffee.

Now that was something that might’ve been made public. If you had been recommended by a specialist to be moved out of a high-security prison and into a psychiatric institute the local news was bound to know about it.

"You being moved to a psychiatric facility would definitely make the news," Spencer mutters, drawing your attention back to him. "That could be the trigger point for our unsub,"

“Me going to a hospital? Seriously?” You scoff like that being a motive is pathetic.

“Yes, seriously,” Spencer replies, his expression serious. “It could signify a turning point, a change in your situation that the unsub might interpret as you escaping justice. It could be the catalyst that pushed them into action.”

He abandons his coffee mug on the counter as he ushers you back into the meeting room with the rest of the team, and all it takes is Hotch getting a single glance at Spencer’s expression to know that there was indeed a trigger for this murder spree.

“A few months ago, their therapist recommended moving them to a psychiatric facility," Spencer shares the information as soon as you both re-enter the room, "That could have been publicised, potentially triggering our unsub-”

“We found her,” Morgan interrupts Spencer’s explanation as he hurries into the room, phone still pressed against his ear as he reaches over to scribble down the name and address Garcia had recovered.

Louise Nueves, aged 29 was born and raised in Malibu, never having left the city for more than a week her entire life. That was, until she was hospitalised for three days for a severe ocular injury to her left eye.

She left the city less than a week after she was discharged, and supposedly never returned as she settled down in Las Flores instead.

She settled down, got married, started working in a small bakery, and overall just seemed to have a well-rounded and stable life after the trauma that she had endured back in her home town.

Morgan knocked harshly on the front door of her house, gun held firmly in his hand just in case Nueves deemed the threat of their presence as an incentive to act violently. “Louise Nueves, this is the FBI,”

The silence from the other side of the door seemed only to heighten the adrenaline running through the veins of the team.

It didn’t take long before Morgan was looking for permission to force the door open, and once he gained a nod from Hotch that’s exactly what he did, kicking the door handle loose and forcing the door open as the team filtered into the house to search for their suspect.

You were an exception of course, being confined to the entranceway with Spencer as your personal babysitter in case you managed to get yourself into any trouble or think about running off.

You hear an echo of ‘clear’s from the group as they sweep the house, seemingly completely devoid of any human presence outside of the FBI team. Until…

“You guys might wanna come see this,”

Emily’s voice sounded from upstairs, and she backed out into the stairway as she gestured for the team to join her up the stairs.

You give Spencer a look before walking over to the stairs, and his curiosity overrides his need to try and keep you in the entrance as he follows after you with the rest of the team following closely behind.

“This little bitch-“ The sight you were greeted with would’ve been extremely disturbing under normal circumstances, a corpse of a man - presumably Nueves’ husband - lying in its first stage of decay on the bed of the house’s master bedroom, a red rose resting on his chest.

Instead, your response was more angry at the blatant lack of originality in the way he was killed.

"Copying my kills is one thing," you spat out, your eyes burning with rage. "But having no innovation or creativity of their own? That's just pathetic." You crossed your arms over your chest, your gaze fixed on the lifeless body in front of you.

"Unique or not, it proves our hypothesis of who the copycat is," Morgan retorted, his gaze hardening at your callous words.

You rolled your eyes, huffing in annoyance. "Great."

Ignoring your sarcasm, Hotch spoke up, "We need to find Nueves before she kills again. Morgan, Reid, you're with me. We'll check her workplace. Rossi and JJ I want you to track down some of her friends, maybe they've noticed something off."

As they left, Emily turned to you, her eyes scrutinising. "What about them, Hotch? Do we just leave them at the station?"

"No," Hotch replied without missing a beat. "They’ll stay with you as you monitor the area. Keep an eye on them. We don't know how they might react now that their 'legacy' is being threatened."

With that, they left you in the company of Emily, the silence in the room amplifying the eerie sight of the corpse on the bed.

The tension was still very apparent despite you and Emily having no previous background, and you could tell that she wasn’t exactly thrilled with your company as the two of you left the house just as the authorities arrived, presumably called by Hotch as they left the scene.

“How does it feel to babysit a grown adult instead of doing something important?”

Emily shot you a sideways glance, her lips forming a thin line. "I'd like to think that keeping an eye on a serial killer counts as important, don't you?" she retorted, her voice icy.

“You’re supposed to be finding a serial killer, I haven’t done anything in years, what makes you think that I’m the threat?” You can’t help but scoff at her intonation as she speaks to you, it feeling oddly derogatory considering that you couldn’t even remember what her name was. “That’s some audacity alright,”

Emily narrowed her eyes at you, a flicker of annoyance crossing her features. "You may not think so, but your presence here is still a potential risk," she said, her tone sharp. "And until we know more, I'm not taking any chances."

She quickened her pace, leaving you to catch up as you followed her out of the residential area and into a nearby public park. Emily’s eyes scanned the area like a hawk as she walked, making you roll your eyes. “You really think she’s just going to be hanging around right next to her own house?”

Emily's gaze flickered toward you, her expression unyielding. "We're not looking for Nueves herself. We're looking for any clues, any signs of her recent activity or whereabouts," she explained tersely. "Every detail matters in a case like this."

She continued to lead the way through the park, her pace steady and purposeful. Despite your scepticism, you couldn't deny the intensity in her demeanour, the determination to solve the case weighing heavily in the air between you as you reluctantly tailed her like a toddler on a leash.

As you walked, Emily suddenly halted, her eyes narrowing as she caught sight of a lone figure sat on one of the park benches with their back to the two of you.

“Oh come on, it’s the middle of the day, of course there are people in the park.”

“Be quiet.” Emily approached the individual with her words barked out between her teeth. As you drew closer, you could see the figure was a woman, her head bowed and shoulders slumped. Emily called out to her, her voice firm yet cautious. "Excuse me, ma'am. Are you alright?"

The woman looked up, her eyes red-rimmed and filled with tears. "I-I'm fine," she stammered, quickly wiping at her cheeks. "Just... just having a moment." Her eyes seemed to flicker downwards towards Emily’s vest in confusion but she didn’t make any move to mention it.

Emily studied her for a moment longer before nodding, her hand slowly retracting from her weapon. “Alright. Just be careful out here, okay?” she advised before motioning for you to follow as she continued on the path.

You glanced back at the woman, her eyes following you in a mix of her previous sadness and confusion, seemingly unsure of how she should feel at an apparent FBI agent approaching her out of nowhere and then advising her to ‘be careful’.

“It’s you.” The new voice turns both of your heads in its direction.

Standing a few feet away was a woman and her dog, her demeanour tense yet strangely familiar. She looked at you with a mixture of surprise and recognition, her eyes lingering on Emily’s vest for a moment before returning to you.

“Excuse me?” You raise an eyebrow at the bluntness of her recognition of who you were, furrowing your eyebrows dismissively like she didn’t have the right to have recognised you in whatever way she had.

“You don’t know me?” Her tone carried a clear betrayal, as did the furrow in her eyebrows as she took a step towards you, one which Emily retaliated to by forcing you behind her with a heavy grip on your arm, one which you did not appreciate whatsoever as you pulled yourself from her grasp.

“Mrs Nueves?” Emily’s voice held a mix of apprehension and concern as she spoke, and she reached into her back pocket to thrust her phone into your hand before holding her fingers ready over her gun holster.

“You don’t remember me, do you? The woman ignored Emily completely, her voice tinged with bitterness as she stared at you, her features filled with betrayal as she realised you weren’t even looking at her, too preoccupied with trying to figure out why Emily had given you her phone.

“Mrs Nueves, my name’s Emily, I’m with the FBI, I understand that what you’re going through right now is extremely difficult but-”

“Shut up!” Nueves’ voice was harsh and drenched in ice as she spoke, holding her hand up dismissively. “I don’t care about you or your FBI friends-”

You had your back to the two by this point, and after a message had come through from Spencer about Nueves not being at her workplace you figured that the reason Emily as given you the phone was to get backup from the team.

oh. Right.

‘shes in the park by her house’

Of course she was. Because she was continually proving to be one of the stupidest people you’d ever encountered. Who decides to take their dog for a walk in the park two minutes from their house whilst being actively pursued by the police? Stupid people, that’s who. God, couldn’t the person copying your crimes at least be a competent one?

‘We’ll be there in ten minutes. Hold tight.’

“Look at me!” Nueves’ raised voice caused multiple heads to turn from the people wandering the park, including your own, and you turn your eyes away from the phone screen with a furrowed expression of annoyance.

“Do you have any idea what you did to me? How much I suffered because of what you did?” Nueves’ outbreak was very quickly garnering an audience from passersby, and could could practically feel the tension rolling off of Emily in waves as she tried to figure out what to do.

“You lived, get over it,” You were not helping.

The look on Nueves’ face at your words was almost incomprehensible, like she didn’t know what emotion she was supposed to be feeling at your nonchalance about what happened. Like you hadn’t ruined her entire life and caused her eternal suffering.

“Get over it? Look what you did to me!” Nueves barked out her words as she brought her left hand up to her eye, pulling at it until the sclera fell into the palm of her hand, leaving a dark pink void in its wake.

Your eyes immediately widened at the action, eyebrows furrowed in clear distaste for what you’d witnessed and that uncomfortable feeling that you’d experienced in the coroner’s office rising in your stomach the longer you looked at her.

“This is my life now.” She held up the piece of glass in her hand. “This is what I have to live with because of you.”

“Mrs Nueves-” Emily took a small step forward in her direction with both hands raised to appear as not threatening as possible.

“Don’t move-” Nueves dropped her dog’s leash at Emily’s advance to pull a small kitchen knife from her pocket, similar to one that would be used to cut vegetables or peel a potato.

Emily’s shoulders tense at the emergence of the weapon lips pursed into a tight line, and you’re sure that you might’ve been mildly concerned yourself if the knife blade wasn’t smaller than its handle. It didn’t make her look as intimidating as you assume she thinks she is, more like a teenager who carries around a switchblade in an attempt to make themself look tougher than they actually are.

Then again, this woman had actually killed people. Just not very well.

Still, if she thought that was a ‘big’ knife then her husband must’ve not been very satisfactory when it came to the bedroom.

"Put the knife down, Louise," Emily's voice was stern yet calm, her gaze unwavering. "We can talk about this, help you get the help you need. But first, you need to put the knife down."

Nueves seemed to consider this for a moment, her grip on the knife wavering. But then, her expression hardened, her eyes filled with a cold determination. "No," she stated firmly, "I won't."

“Mrs. Nueves,” Emily tried again, her voice laced with a calm authority, “you're not a killer. You're a victim, and we want to help you.”

Nueves let out a bitter laugh at this, her gaze never leaving Emily's. “A victim?” she echoed, her voice filled with scorn. “I stopped being a victim the moment I stopped letting them control my life.” She thrusts her arm forward with the knife in hand to point it in your direction, thankfully too far away for it to actually be anywhere near harming you. “You left me alive and it ruined everything.”

“I had to live with the pain, the nightmares, the constant fear. I had to watch my life fall apart while you just moved on to your next victim and left me without so much as a footnote in your confession." Nueves continued, her voice shaking with barely suppressed rage. "You think I'm the one who needs help? You're the monster, not me!”

“You had a hard time. Boo-hoo. But guess what? You're not the only one who's had to deal with shit. You're not special, Nueves.” You replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

Nueves' eyes flashed with anger at your dismissive words. "You don't get to talk to me like that. You don't get to belittle my pain. You don't get to decide how I should react to what you did to me."

"Actually, I do," you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest. "I'm the one who put you in this position. I'm the one who made you who you are today. And you know what? I'm not sorry. Because without me your life would’ve been completely insignificant.”

“Maybe I am a monster. But you, Nueves, are just a sad, pathetic little girl pretending to be a serial killer.” Nueves' face twisted with rage at your words, her grip on the knife tightening. But before she could react, Emily stepped in, her voice calm and authoritative.

“Enough,” she commanded, her gaze fixed on Nueves. “This isn't helping anyone. We're here to bring you in, Louise. To make sure you get the help you need.”

“I don't want your help,” Nueves spat back, her eyes still fixed on you with burning hatred. “I just want them to pay for what they did.”

“They are Louise, they’re paying for their actions every single day in a high-security prison,” Emily stated, her gaze unwavering as she shook her head gently. “They’re getting their punishment, you don’t have to do this, please, just put down the knife…” Emily’s eyes caught the SUV that parked on the side of the road as she talked. Looks like she’d managed to buy enough time for backup to arrive.

For a moment, it looked like Nueves might actually consider following Emily’s suggestion. But then she glanced back at you, her gaze hardening at your stare of indifference. “No,” she said, her voice filled with determination. “I won't let them get away with this. I won’t let them have control of how I live my life anymore.”

Nueves’ ramble deemed her oblivious to the agents approaching her from behind, ushering the few lingering witnesses to a safe distance away so that they could contain the area, and your eyes caught Dr Reid carefully scooping up the leashed dachshund into his arms after it’d scampered away from Nueves in her fit of rage.

“You don’t remember me?” Her eyes turned from seething to desperate in the split second she looked at you, voice raised as she tried to force your attention back onto her from your seeming uninterest in the confrontation. “You will.”

Morgan didn’t even have time to un-holster his gun before Nueves utilised the knife in her hand. Not on Emily, nor on you, but on herself, impaling the blade of the knife directly into her operational eye and forcing it deeper by slamming the palm of her hand into the wooden handle until it was almost completely encapsulated into her eye socket.

The sight was ghastly, blood spurting out of her eye as she fell onto the ground, convulsing from the pain and shock. You watched, a morbid fascination in your eyes as Emily quickly called for medical attention, her gaze flitting between you and the dying woman on the ground.

As the medics rushed to stabilise Nueves, Emily looked at you, her face pale. “You-” She said, her voice barely a whisper, “stay here.” She then hurriedly joined the medics, leaving you behind. You watched as the medics tried to recover her, but it was clear that her chances were slim. The sight of her writhing in pain, the blood pooling around her, was oddly satisfying to watch. A small, twisted part of you felt a sense of triumph at the confrontation's results, if not a little discontented with just how dramatic this woman proved to be.

The rest of the team moved to properly secure the area now that it was officially a crime scene as Emily, still with the medics, was applying pressure to Nueves' wound, her hands smeared with blood.

As you watched the scene unfold, a bizarre sense of calm washed over you. This chaos, this pain, was a result of your actions, your legacy, and despite the horrific circumstances, you couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction.

From a distance, you could see Hotch talking to Emily, his expression unreadable. Emily nodded, her eyes briefly meeting yours before diverting away. She looked shaken, the dark red of Nueves’ quickly oxidising blood on her hands a stark contrast against her pale skin.

You tried to imagine the emotions she was grappling with. After all, she was a part of a team that had sworn to protect innocents from people like you. And now, because of you, she had blood on her hands.

The medics finally lifted Nueves onto a stretcher, rushing her towards the waiting ambulance. Emily stood there for a moment longer, watching as the ambulance sped away, before finally turning her eyes towards you, unfocused on how Morgan was gently trying to usher her towards another pair of EMTs so that she could be checked over.

There was zero chance Nueves was going to make it to the hospital in time.

Emily’s gaze was hard, filled with a mixture of anger, confusion, and something you couldn't quite place. Fear, perhaps? Or maybe disappointment? Regardless, it was clear that the events of the day had left a deep impact on her.

As you watched them walk away, the satisfaction from earlier began to fade, replaced by a strange emptiness. You were alone again, left with nothing but the aftermath of your actions. And as you stared at the spot where Nueves had fallen, the blood still fresh on the grass, you couldn't help but wonder if this was all worth it.

But then, you remembered the look on Nueves’ face, the horror in her expression at her own pain. And you knew, without a doubt, that it was. Maybe she was right, you just might remember her for that stunt she pulled, although most definitely not in a positive light.

“Are you alright?” The ever-calm voice of Spencer Reid pulled you away from mulling over your own feelings, and you give him an animated sway of your head back and forth as a silent communication of you not falling in either emotional direction.

It truly was fascinating how removed you were from everything, and as twisted and convoluted as it might sound, Spencer wasn’t looking forward to your departure from accompanying the team. It meant that he didn’t get to speak to you anymore. Didn’t get to slowly peel away the layers of protection you’d built over your psyche so that he could pry at your inner workings.

And he didn’t exactly mind having you around. But that was something he was going to keep to himself for a multitude of reasons.

“It’s all too over the top for my taste,” You shrug your shoulders nonchalantly, stretching your arms above your head. “Here, it’s the one with the ponytail’s,” You hold the cell phone out between your thumb and index finger like it might give you a disease if you hold it properly.

“Why-” Spencer starts his question and is immediately interrupted by your answer. “She gave it to me to message one of you where we were,”

So it was you who’d messaged him then. He thought the punctuation was different.

“Right, that makes sense,” He takes the phone from you with an awkward smile as he puts it away in his back pocket. “Thank you,”

You give him a short hum in reply, crossing your arms over your torso and leaning back and forth on the balls of your feet like you were becoming bored with just standing around. You’d just been a potential hostage at knife point and then watched someone graphically commit suicide specifically to gain your attention and less than five minutes after it was over you were looking for something new to capture your attention.

It utterly fascinated him. You were fascinating.

And you were leaving.

Literally.

You were walking away, obviously having had enough of Spencer’s silence and wandering off to find Hotch and maybe experience something more enticing.

“Hey-” Spencer called out to you as you began to walk away, and you stopped with a glance over your shoulder and a raised eyebrow. “What are you feeling right now?”

You stuff your hands in your pockets at his question, turning 180 degrees to face him once more with a slightly furrowed expression as you tried to figure out the motive behind his question.

“I wonder if she saw the afterlife.”

Spencer’s shoulders drop at your admission, his expression morphing into a mix of understanding and confusion, contradiction written all over his features.

You seemed more objectively curious than humanly concerned, but you still were curious nonetheless.

That was another fascinating part about you, or just about sociopaths in general, he supposes. But he wasn’t speaking to every sociopath in existence, he was speaking to you. So it was less about sociopathy and more about you specifically.

“Do you think she saw the afterlife?”

“Logically, she didn’t have any eyes so she wasn’t ‘seeing’ anything, but metaphorically I’d like to believe so,”

Spencer has to stifle a surprised laugh at your morbid joke about Nueves’ condition, pressing his lips into a tight line with a small nod as he tried to focus on the second part of your statement. “Me too,”

There was a small sense of deja vu surrounding your conversation as the two of you fell into a mutual silence, hastily interrupted by Hotch calling the two of you to gather with the rest of the team now that the case was officially over.

You noticed the distaste in Emily’s gaze immediately, looks like you’ve gained yourself another detractor. She and Morgan stood side by side with matching expressions as the two of you joined them, although neither had time to make any comments as the team loaded up in the SUVs to head back to the station.

It was rather hard to believe it’d only been six days in Las Flores, but dates don’t lie, and by the time you stepped back onto the BAU’s private jet, it felt like you’d only left it for a matter of hours.

Nueves’ face was fading from your mind by now, as was her name, and as you plopped yourself down on the same seat you’d occupied on your flight from Quantico, you’d almost forgotten that she even existed.

Your mind was more preoccupied with what was going to happen next. You were going to fly back to Quantico, be recovered by California state officials, and taken back to the concrete hell of the California Correctional Institution until your appeal to be moved to an inpatient psychiatric care facility was considered and ultimately rejected because they still deemed you ‘too dangerous’ to be around vulnerable individuals despite sharing mental issues with a lot of them.

Spencer gave you an awkward wave as he walked down the aisle of the cabin and stopped at the seat opposite you, hoping the movement would grab your attention.

“Do you-” He half gestures to the seat facing you with his hand, and you dismissively wave him into it as you return your attention to the window. “Thanks…”

You give him a hum at his politeness but otherwise remain uninterested in his presence, fastening the seat belt over your lap as the jet pilots prepare for the five-hour flight back to Quantico.

“What’re you thinking about?” Spencer abandons his original plan to sleep through the entire flight the second he sees the pondering in your expression.

You glanced at Spencer, contemplating whether to confide in him about your concerns. Out of everyone, he was probably the one person you’d met on the team who seemed genuinely interested in your experiences. He was one of the few who could understand the complexities of your situation. With a sigh, you decided to open up a little, "Just thinking about what happens now. Back to the concrete hell of my enclosure I guess.”

“I thought you were appealing the decision? That’s why you agreed to help, isn’t it? So the officials are more likely to accept your appeal?” Spencer tilts his head slightly in your direction, raising an eyebrow in your direction as he curled his legs under him in his chair.

“You really think that it’s actually going to do anything?” Your voice is dripping in sarcasm as you let your head fall back against the seat. “They’re seething enough that I didn’t get the death penalty, there’s no way they’re going to cut my sentence,”

“I don’t see why they shouldn’t,” Spencer blinks at you with a mildly furrowed expression. “You’re not an active threat to anybody, and having the help that you need could greatly improve your quality of life,”

“Yeah well you’re not the person who’s going to be analysing my case, so your opinion doesn’t really matter in the greater span of things does it, Dr. Reid?” Your tone carries no malice in your statement, although it comes off much more rude than he’s sure you mean it to be.

His opinion could matter. He knows that as a part of the evaluation you’ll have to go through Hotch will have to write a report on how you acted during the case. Maybe he could put in a few extra things he’d experienced with you. He’s sure that the psychiatrist assessing whether you were actively violent would benefit from knowing how much you adored your parents, how you wondered if your childhood pet was in the afterlife and how you engaged in a genuine emotional conversation with him despite all of your social stunts from your disorder.

You obviously still had your humanity, so he didn’t see why they wouldn’t allow you to have the facilities to improve your mental state to a point where one day you could possibly be a functioning member of society, or at least be in a position to help researchers understand more about your condition.

“Having optimism about an upcoming situation has proved to actually affect the outcome of said situation, with 36% of people who had been optimistic about negative situations physically affecting the outcome of those situations based on their outlook alone,” Spencer presses his lips into a line, another one of those awkward smiles that you’d become used to over your time with him.

“I prefer realism, but I suppose I’ll take that into account,”

“That’s all I can ask,” Spencer gives a soft exhale at your inadvertent agreement to take his advice, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. “I’ll visit you once your appeal has gone through,” The statement fell out of his mouth without any real thought behind it, simply a reflection of his brain deciding he wasn’t quite done with your company yet despite the case officially being over.

“Of course you will,”

Spencer gives a short laugh of mild embarrassment. “Of course I will.”

[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

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 💖🙏

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[ravencincaide]

Desperate times call for desperate measures 

Summary:  You leave your small twins with Dazai and Chuuya and hope the two of them can manage their fatherly-duties while you take an hour of much needed ‘me time’. Scratch that, you just needed long enough to take a shower in order to feel human again before going back to being a mom.

Pairing: Dazai x Chuuya xfem! Reader 

Inspired by Sweetober prompt 8: Napping together

Warning: Cursing, hints at depression/ postpartum depression, New parents/exhausted parents.

Enjoy~

______________________________________________________________

You were going to kill Chuuya. 

No, you decided as you paced back and forth around the house, rocking the fussing twins in your arms. You were going to kill Mori for dragging your Chuuya out of his parental leave to deal with whatever shit Dazai had gotten himself into. You had thought the suicidal maniac of a lover would have gotten more efficient on missions- or at the very least more considerate. Nope. Still, somehow, if one part of twin dark was sent on a mission, he’d get in sufficient shit to need the second one's assistance. 

Responsible adults, your ass.

You sighed as the wailing continued with no amount of rocking, hushing, singing and pacing doing much to ease the tears. You were also silently cursing Chuuya for getting you pregnant with twins, why couldn’t it have been one to start with? Though you admitted as you looked down at the two crying balls of ginger, they were adorably cute; both took after their father in appearance,inheriting Chuuyas ginger hair and stunning blue eyes. With the only seeming resemblance to you being in their chins and petit nose. 

You definitely picked the short straw you mused bitterly as another loud cry made your ears ring. 

The ginger haired girl was crying and waving her doll around every now and then, getting it tangled in your hair or hitting you on the head with it with a surprising amount of strength. Her twin, an almost identical copy of her with slightly fluffier hair and larger eyes, was just gripping onto you and crying. He wasn’t wailing as loudly as his sister but the teardrops that rolled down his cheeks were larger, almost comical. 

There was no doubt in your mind that they were setting each other off. And all this mess because you got distracted and missed nap time. 

God you could feel yourself reaching your limit. What you’d give for just a little bit of time to yourself- a few hours was all you asked for. Something you hadn’t seen much of- if any after giving birth. As soon as the twins were born you got to spend a month in the hospital recovering before you and the babies were allowed home. Then it went downhill from there. First the wonderful nanny that you had picked out had to leave your services. The agency you hired her through was quick to send a replacement, but that woman got killed in an unfortunate plane crash. Getting another replacement was proving more challenging. Then almost directly after, despite being barely at home Dazai pulled from parental leave due to ‘emergencies’; first several back-to-back abroad missions where he’d only come home for a few days tops and then his last one for which he left over two months ago. You had Chuuya but even he had to go back into the office several times a week.In the best case.  If that wasn’t making your existence miserable, suddenly Dazai needed backup out of the blue, forcing Chuuya to leave without warning in the middle of the night. 

For the last two months you were completely alone. 

You had to do everything; from childcare to household chores, to different parenting classes and doctors visits with the two. In the evenings after putting them to bed you’d be sitting and going through reports and reviewing mission statements to keep your lovers workload manageable and the department not at a standstill. It became your job to ensure subordinates were still sent out on missions and nothing critical, that couldn’t wait until their return, got missed. Then you’d get a little cleaning and food prep done,  shower if you managed to do that before the babies woke up for their nightly feedings. When you’d crawl into bed you’d shut your eyes for twenty minutes at a time, plagued by nightmares of your partners drying and being a failure as a mother. When you’d finally calm your demons, the twins would get hungry again so you’d be up to warm the bottle for them before changing them and rocking them back to sleep. Sometimes you’d fall asleep right on the soft carpeted floor with both of them cuddling to your chest, sleeping a few hours longer than in their own beds. 

Those mornings were your salvation. 

You let out a loud groan, looking up at the ceiling as you felt tears sting your eyes. You didn’t know if children were meant to scream and cry so much. You didn’t know if you were doing this right or wrong. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do. You just wanted them to be healthy and happy- why couldn’t you do that? You brought them closer to your chest and pressed a kiss to each of their foreheads. “ Mama’s trying her hardest” you muttered as you continued to rock them “Mama would really really need a helping hand though.” 

-

It seemed gods took pity on you just this once. 

You nearly broke down crying or screamed out in joy when you heard the car pulling up to your driveway. Then silence before a key pushed into the lock followed by the door swinging opened. 

“ Sweetheart we’re back!” Chuuya yelled as he kicked off his shoes. You heard Dazai’s voice muttering something to him, the bickering overshadowed by the twins' cries. You made quick way towards the hallway. The moment Chuuya and Dazai came into sight, new screams filled the house; excited cries of “ Dada” and “ papa” which bounced off the walls, a bitter reminder that you children were never this excited to see you. 

You could see Chuuya chuckling, a bright expression on his face full of love and happiness. He didn’t seem the slightest bit bothered by the yelling- if anything it seemed to fill him with contagious happy energy and an eagerness to get his damned coat off so he could come to the children. Dazai, dressed in completely white attire, which resembled something between a prison uniform and the dresscode of asylum patients seemed less happy about the screaming. But even he had a smile playing on his lips as he hurried towards you at the same time as Chuuya, who had given up on hanging his coat and just threw it on the ground. The two were practically tripping over each other, with each ‘papa’ and ‘dad’ cry getting more and more eager to get to you, limbs frailing; hands, arms and snappy remarks at each others inability to get out of the others way. 

Finally they seemed to remember how to walk and the bottleneck in your hallway was replaced by two adult men rushing towards you. 

“ How are my loves?” Chuuya cheered looking far too happy as he hurried pressed a kiss to your children's heads. First the boy then the girl. Dazai did the same in the opposite order, both ignoring you and your puckered lips. 

For a second a pang of jealousy hit your heart. You hadn’t seen your partners in over two months and before greeting you, their attention was on the children. Picture perfect fathers. Shitty lovers. And the second the thought entered your head you felt your heart drop to your stomach with guilt. In what sane world was a mother jealous of the attention her babies were getting? You should be happy and proud that both of your partners- not only the biological father- cared so deeply for the balls of joy you created. Though, you added almost bitterly, right now these two brought you anything but joy. 

“ Here” you stated in a slightly bitter tone as you pawned over one kid per partner “ Do everyone a favour and act like fathers for longer than 30 seconds.  I need some ‘me- time’ before I murder someone” 

Chuuya and Dazai shared a look of bewilderment between each other as you stepped away from them. They had expected kisses, hugs and a warm dinner but got a kid each and a blank stare in return. Dazai stared at your retreating form with agap mouth for a moment before he stretched the little girl towards Chuuya; “ Here Chuuya be a good dad, me and Y/N have some catching up to do.” 

You pretended to ignore what he said, the same way he ignored your comment about ‘me time’. Though you wondered if you should at the very least make them dinner before taking out that ‘me time’ moment. 

“ Heeh stop being so bitter and just hold her, Mackerel.” Chuuya snapped trying to get the boy to settle in his arms “if your swimmers could actually swim they’d be your kids” 

“ Don’t be such a slug about it” Dazai declared as he turned his attention away from Chuuya as the boy began sobbing again making Chuuya curse before attempting to pacify him. Zero attention to either Dazai or the girl in his arms. 

In the process the girl-child who had just settled down, amusing herself by pulling on strands of Dazai’s grown out hair, turned her attention away from him and towards her crying brother. Seeing him cry, her eyes began to water.

 In seconds Dazai’s attention was back to you; “ Ohh Belladonna you’d not be so cruel as to demand your newly returned partner whom you haven’t seen for months to be a father without sleep or proper meal “ Despite his dramatic words he shifted the girl to his other arm so her back was to her brother and began rocking her more quickly. His second hand was trying to keep her attention on the doll she had abandoned in favour of his hair. The very doll she had been hitting you with not even ten minutes earlier.  Scratch your earlier thoughts. They were adults and older than you- they knew how to order in or warm up leftovers! 

You sighed heavily before you went towards the kitchen and the fridge. “ Then you boys are in agreement that we stop at two right?” You questioned  when you returned with a cold rattle for the boy. He was quick to grasp it in his hands before beginning to chew on it. The relief it brought was sufficient to stop the tears. 

For now. 

When you got no reply, you motioned between the two of them and then to the children in their arms. If you weren’t so tired you’d have laughed at the look of horror drawing of Dazai’s face as he realized you were serious, and then the very hurt expression at the mere idea of not having any children of his own with you. That look melted a piece of ice around your heart.  “ Or can you manage to look after them for an hour while I take a shower in peace?” 

Your lovers nodded eagerly, both giving you a salute before shuffling off towards the baby proofed living room with toys, a playpen and floor covered in soft playmats. Your eyes lingered long enough until they were out of sight before you headed upstairs to your bedroom. Once there you dragged yourself towards the chair by your make up table which had a thin layer of dust over your make up palettes. Serving as a bitter reminder of just how ‘much’ time you dedicated towards yourself in the past months. The thought plastered a bitter smirk on your face; no wonder you didn’t get as much as a kiss-hello from either Dazai or Chuuya. 

You dropped in the chair with a heavy sigh and buried your head in your hands. You didn’t understand what was wrong with you. You didn’t understand where you were making mistakes; how could other mafia women manage to do so much more? More time with children, more work, more chores- many would even visit headquarters to spend lunch with their husbands. 

Husbands- the word brought a bitter taste to your mouth. How long have you three been together already? How many milestones have you celebrated? Missions, promotions, twins. Plans for extending the family with at least one more kid- Dazai’s. And still your ring finger remained bare. In fact after the icy greeting today you doubted your relationship would ever move anywhere positive from this standstill. 

You heard steps outside your bedroom, irritated and heavy before the door to your bedroom swung open with Dazai’s usual dramatic appearance “ Ahh my sweet Belladonna my heart-”

You didn’t need to turn around to know the look he was wearing.” One hour” you stated “ Or no more kids. Your choice” 

The door closed as quickly as it had opened. 

The peaceful silence didn’t last for long. Though you didn’t know how long you were sitting in your thoughts, salvaging a moment of being alone, you knew it couldn’t have been longer than five minutes before you were interrupted again. This time the footsteps outside your door were calmer and more confident. Their owner opened the door very gently. You closed your eyes biting back the frustration as you heard Chuuya’s half hesitant whisper “Sweetheart..” 

“ What is it, Chuuya?” You still didn’t have it in you to face him. 

“ If you want to soak in the bath, it's ready any minute now” You nodded, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so cold to him. Especially when he went out of his way to do something nice for you. “ Also, do you know where the nursing bottles are?” 

There it was. 

“ There are some prepared bottles in the fridge; just place them in boiling water for a few seconds until they’re body temperature. Not too hot.” You rubbed your temple as you spoke, fighting off the want to cry and scream much like the children downstairs. These were things he as their father was supposed to know. Or at least be able to figure it out on his own. He could lead an entire faction on his own, why couldn’t he handle a baby or two? 

After your reply you heard Chuuya linger in the doorway for a few moments. You pictured him opening and closing his mouth, hesitating as he thought over what to do. A hopefully side of you hoped he’d come in and wrap his arms around you and just hold. Just fucking hold you for a moment without the children being present. Then another cry from downstairs and he was gone; the door shutting quietly behind himself. 

You waited for a moment, gathering your strengths before leaving the safety of your room, rushing quietly through the small hallway, trying not to waver at the sound of the children's cries. Once in the bathroom you closed and locked the door before leaning your back against it. Why did no one tell you that when you’d become a mother you’d become so alone while constantly surrounded by others? 

Shaking your head you stripped before climbing into the baths. You let out a low moan as the feeling of bath salts soothed your skin. Then salvaged the moment of humanity as you dipped your head underwater with the realization you didn’t need to watch anyone while you washed. Then you reached for the shaving blade and shaving cream, getting rid of the hair on your body that annoyed you more than you’d ever wish to admit. 

When you got out of the bathtub and showered off, you felt human. Like a sliver of being a woman was returned to you. Dressing in clean clothes only reinforce that.  Now then you were feeling more ready to tackle the rest of this cursed day.

Coming out of the bathroom you noticed how quiet it was. The silence filled you with dread; anyone with children knew that the only time they were quiet was either when something was wrong or they were up to something, while anyone acquainted with Dazai and Chuuya were very aware that the two together were constantly either bickering or yapping.

Silence like this filled you with dread. 

Throwing your dirty laundry carelessly to the side you rushed downstairs, heart in your throat. When you made it down the stairs you stopped, shocked as the sound of snores reached your ears. More carefully you made your way towards the livingroom being cautious to remain light on your feet. 

Once there you leaned against the wall, your eyes falling on the heartwarming sight before you. All four of them were on the soft playmat. Chuuya was lying stretched out on his back on his coat, an arm dropped over his eyes and loud snores resonating around the room. On his chest lay your daughter with his hat covering her head from the light. His hand was on her body keeping her close to himself. Dazai was lying curled up into a ball on his side, beside Chuuya. His messy head on his thigh. Your son laying in his arms, held close to himself through a make-ship baby-carry out of his bandages. Although he wasn’t snoring you could tell he was fast asleep by the rise and fall of his shoulders. 

Going over to the couch you picked up the warm covers before gently placing it over them. You saw Dazai stir, a sleepy eye opening just long enough to register that you weren’t a threat then he shifted slightly, creating a space between him and Chuuya for you. “ Don’t be a stranger Belladonna” he whispered as he beckoned you to lay down between them. 

Once you did, he wrapped one arm around you, the second one still holding your son in place, before he buried his face in your hair. He took a deep breath in and out, his hand finding yours and squeezing it once before interlocking your fingers together. “ I’ve missed you” he muttered, his eyes sliding shut in tiredness “ Lets rest now and when we wake up I wanna give you a proper greeting Bella” 

Before you could answer he was fast asleep. Which was probably good because it saved you the embarrassment of explaining why his one sentence brought you to tears.  

______________________________________________________________

Author note: Craving part 2?

Check out We need to talk for the sweeter version, and Happy Unhappy home! For more angst.

All fics are unique works by ©ravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reposted/copied anywhere else without my consent, please inform me!

[thepro-lifemovement]

Link.

As the euthanasia program in Canada comes under increasing international scrutiny, Canadians living with disabilities are speaking out to show how they have been pressured into assisted suicide or euthanasia. And the hashtag they’re using is starting to go viral.

A woman identifying herself as Dr. T kicked off the “I Am The Face Of MAID” campaign with a tweet arguing that the government would rather kill her than treat her illness. “I am the face of #MAID (assisted-death) in Canada. As a single, 50 yr old female with a genetic condition and a disability pension I will only cost the ‘system,'” she wrote. “I would be approved for untreatable pain if I applied – except my pain IS treatable – the gov just wont cover it.”

She then encouraged others to follow her lead, and the hashtag quickly took off.

“I am the face of #MAID (assisted-death) in Canada,” a woman named Ariane wrote. “As a 42 year old woman with a rare complication of lupus + iatrogenic injuries I will only cost the ‘system.’ I want to live but can’t get the care I need + have been approved for MAID.”

“I am the face of #MAID (assisted-death) in Canada,” another woman named Natalie wrote. “As a 41 yr old woman with fibromyalgia & chronic widespread pain, I will only cost the ‘system.’ I receive nerve block to keep me moving. I would be approved for death if I applied.”

“I am the face of #MAID (assisted-death) in Canada,” still another woman said. “As a 30 y.o. with physical disabilities and ADHD, I will only cost the ‘system.’ I would be approved for MAiD if I applied – doctors are ignoring me to death. Fleeing to live.”

“I’m a 23 year old with ADHD, BPD, CPTSD, POTS, very intense IBS, widespread chronic pain, asthma, and more. Come March if I applied I would be approved due to their expansion with mental health,” another woman tweeted. “I am the face of MAID, but I don’t want to be.”

The campaign worked. Dr. T later followed up that not only did #MAID become a trending topic on Twitter, but her picture was the #1 photo associated with the term.

Many people with disabilities have come forward to speak out about their treatment, which has included being referred for MAID even though they are seeking medical care. Still others have been approved for MAID simply because they are living in poverty, or have disabilities. Disturbingly, the Canadian government is still planning on expanding the MAID program to include those whose only diagnosis is mental illness.