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#paper cat lab
papercatlab · 16 days
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(via Decorated Wooden Trinket Box, Hand Painted White With Leopard Small - Etsy Italy)
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jedi-bird · 1 year
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My partner is off to the office soon to play online games with their friends. I had planned to write a bit, or at least try to. But honestly? This day has sucked and I'm emotionally exhausted. I think I'll just go to bed way too early and deal with waking up in the middle of the night when it happens. Tomorrow will either be better or worse but that's future me's problem. Current me no longer gives any fucks.
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athetos · 2 years
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My roommate might be allergic to cats so we might not be able to get one but if not I’m really really hoping the universe drops a small dog into my lap I miss having an animal so much I’d feel bad because I work 9 hour shifts and my roommate has class but I’d love on them the entire time I’m home and give them treats and make special eggs and chicken just for them and scratch their belly and behind their ears and walk them in the park and sing them songs and I miss having a pet
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knifebucket · 1 year
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just shot nyquil over chamomile because my advisor bulk texted his grad students that there's no guidelines for him to still advise us when he's on sabbatical even though he promised he would when he left and I have no contact with the rest of my committee and no connection to my original thesis and my grad program has tried to force me out from the minute I had correspondence with them and if I don't force myself to sleep I will absolutely smash something into sawdust thinking about how fucking ass backwards getting my masters degree has been
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DPXDC prompt. Family? Assemble!
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Reporter: Gotham News, and we have a new supervillain on the line. Mr Phantom, what are your demands at the moment? Phantom with lack of sleep and with tears: I..I want a titanium model of a spaceship! And to get a good night’s sleep and to go to the local school…and some fudge and.. Reporter: Oh, my bad. Just one question for clarification, are you by any chance an orphan or are your parents villains? Phantom: I prefer the term mad scientists Reporter: Okay. So, Gotham news! And with me on the line is the new potential child of Wayne or Batman. Want to know how two serial adopters will share a child leading a double life? Stay with us and find out. Now let's check in with Jessie for our weather report. Phantom: Wait, what?
~~~~~
Danny spends the night running from the Red Hood with a bag of fudge, Red Robin with a pot of coffee, Batman with the adoption papers and, for some reason, Brucie Wayne with an idea of internship at a space station. Ha! The Justice League will never let a ghost into orbit. Not that Wayne can blackmail superheroes or smth. Danny: Fuck you all! I’m done with vigilante activity, I’m not your competitor! What do you want from me? And I’m done with crazy billionaires too. I swear, I’d rather be adopted by a local mob boss just to piss you off! ~Later~ Danny *sees peering out of the corner Matches Malone*: Are you kidding me?! Robbie *jumps off the roof and lands right behind Danny*: Stop running, lil brother, No one’s left the family yet. Minnie: What about Neal? Robbie *shakes a knife with a bow on the handle negatively*: He’s on sabbatical, that doesn’t count. Anyway, it’s a gift for you, cub. Danny: Um, thank you, but my lab scalpels are definitely sterile, and your blade was in who knows who before you brought it here. Robbie: It’s brand-new! And Archie decorated it with a ghost on the handle. Look! It's cute! With a smile and… Dick: Hands up! You’re under arrest for trying to steal our new member! Minnie: Why is he yours, damn cop? Selina: Boys, don’t fight. He’s mine. Schrodinger’s cat is still a kitten. Killer Croc: No way, my niece is staying with me. Danny: Uncle Waylon? Long time no see. Ra's: My grandson needs steady access to ectoplasm. Danyal, come with me. Danny: Over my dead body! Oh shiii…I mean no. Anyway, don’t you think the alley’s getting a little crowded?
~~~~
Killer Croc: Is he still mad at me? RR: Danny doesn’t talk to uncles who tried to eat his beloved brother Red Robin. Killer Croc: He wasn’t even your brother then. What do you want? An apology from me? RR: That would be nice.
~~~~
Danny: I didn’t think the GIW agents would really fear the reputation of Gotham and not follow me. What a relief! Jason *quickly throws the knife into the sink*: Wow, you got lucky. Alfred: Master Jones, why don’t you eat your steak? I thought last week you were complaining to Batman that 'cause of him you got not many prey. Croc *pulls a piece of white robe from the teeth*: Well, now there is a lot of it. Bruce *gives Jason and Croc the side-eye*.
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Ra's: You do realize that Malone, Wayne and Batman are the same person, right? Boy, you were born into a family of geniuses, don’t disappoint Grandpa. Danny: Triple pocket money, triple gifts for the holidays, the opportunity to complain about the same family member three times. No, Grandpa, I definitely don’t understand. Ra's: Smart little weasel.
~~~~
Selina: Okay. Purely theoretical. Do you like to steal? Danny: I wouldn’t say that. But somehow I stole the sword from the fright knight. And also stole few jewels but then I was under the mind control. I returned them. Well, the crown and ring of the king of the ghost zone I also took without permission. Oh, and the answers to the test once. And I’m really sorry about the last one. Neal: I feel the story behind it but I prefer to know nothing about it.
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teyums · 11 months
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a/n: cats are so funny because they genuinely think they’re doing something nice for you when they drop a mouse at your feet as an offering and it’s actually the opposite. i was watching my cat play with her little toy and it just brought the terrifying memory back to me bc WHY WOULD YOU THINK I WANT THIS? As soon as the idea came i wrote it, Neteyam just seems like the type LMAOO 😭
neteyam x human!reader
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It takes Neteyam quite a while to understand the difference between Na’vi women and human women, especially the difference in what you do and don’t like. But you can’t blame him, you don’t look like his kind, you don’t smell like his kind, hell, you don’t even dress like them.
The Na’vi’s behavior very closely resembles that of a house cat on earth— you’ve noted after studying how Neteyam’s emotions portray themselves through his expressive tail, how his ears dip when he’s angry or perk up when he’s excited, or how he purrs when you finally agree to sitting in his lap instead of your chair while you finish up your work for the day. With the innate behavior of the two creatures mirroring each other almost completely, it’s no surprise that this also heavily factors into what they deem as ‘gifts’ for their favorite human.
Just as housecats will fetch their humans dead animals or rodents as an offering to them, the Na’vi way isn’t too far from that. You hated so much as looking at dead animals, let alone being near them, but when your childhood cat, Loki, used to bring field mice into the home and drop them at the foot of your bed, at least it was small enough for you to scoop into a grocery bag with pinched eyes and a hand over your nose while you fought back the tears of sheer terror.
Most of Neteyam’s catlike nature rendered adorable to you, and while you were more than willing to learn more about the ways of his people, this new custom he’d introduced you to had your heart dropping out of your ass like a brick and your soul exiting your body as if you could do without it. It’s when he shows up to the lab, a dead boar strung over his back with the biggest, toothiest smile you’ve ever seen spread on his lips until a bloodcurdling scream wipes it clean off his expression.
“Oh my God, ‘Teyam, get it away, get it away!” You shrill, so startled you almost tumble out of your desk chair, the hairs on your neck standing straight up as you divert your attention from the animal that’s almost the size of your body, a panicked hand splayed over your rumbling chest and the other extended out, palm towards him.
“What? You don’t like it? Should I have gone with a hexapede (deer) instead?” His brows gather in the center of his forehead when he steps closer and you immediately yelp and scoot back, the metal wheels of your chair screeching against the smooth tile with the effort of your retreat. He’s wholeheartedly confused, because any woman of his kind would find such a gesture as this one beyond thoughtful, and even romantic. Catching one of these things isn’t easy, and a clean kill with an arrow through the heart as to not rupture or damage the meat of the animal is even harder.
“I even skinned it for you!” He urges with a pout.
Your involuntary squeal interrupts his attempt to convince you as you fan your face with your hands, but it seems as if he’s still having trouble understanding.
“Perhaps I should have roasted it as well…” He ponders to himself with a hand pinching his chin, deep in contemplation while he keeps his catch over his shoulder and his eyes cast toward the wall, completely missing the way your trembling hands scramble over your desk for something to launch at him.
“GET IT OUT!”
He winces at the pitch of your shriek, astounded by how that loud of a sound could come out of such a tiny being. His brows raise before he quickly ducks to dodge the one-subject notebook that flaps past his head in a blur of fluttering paper, and he hurriedly obliges your wishes with a few steps back and a rushed ‘okay, okay!’.
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Likes + Comments + Reblogs are much appreciated 💗
©teyums 2023
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blackopals-world · 9 months
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Mouthing Affection
Leona x Vet!FemYuu
NSFW
As part of the smut raffle. This is the prize for the winners.
Sometimes big cats can be big kittens and can't help but show it. Yuu has to deal with a spoiled lion doing everything he can to distract her from her job.
Cat (big cats including) will nip to show affection.
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Yuu was busy. She was always busy. Today especially since Coach Vargas asked her to do a health check on all the athletic teams that had beastmen.
That meant mostly patching up cuts and bruises while making sure they took flea and lick medications. That also meant having Vil bring Epel in for a tick check after one was found in the stables.
Currently, Leona was sitting in Yuu's office getting his health screening. Yuu skimmed through her report checking for errors, she knew Leona was perfectly healthy almost ludicrously by human standards. He could benefit from daily multivitamins though.
"Okay, I'll give you a syringe of liquid multivitamins and a liquid IV." Yuu said putting down her clipboard.
"What do I get if I take it?" Leona asked raking a claw down the paper-covered exam table. His smirk taunted the doctor.
"I'll give you a treat. Something I reserve for the most ornery of patients." By which she meant all of them.
Yuu opened a jar with a cat symbol on it on her desk that contained an assortment of colorfully wrapped candies. She pulled out one and put it on the table before taking out the medicine vials.
"I'll take it after you give me the candy." He said leaning back.
"No, after." Yuu said simply without looking up.
"Before and another after." He said more stubbornly.
"No, you can't hav-wait. Where is it?" Yuu began looking through the cabinets for a missing bottle."Shit. The nurse must have taken it to her-stay put till I get back."
Yuu walked out while giving Leona a glare.
Leona just as quickly takes a handful of candies and ate a few just to spite her. He loved messing with the cute herbivore.
The candy was really good. It tasted like mint and melon. It felt warm as it melted in his mouth. His entire body began to feel warm.
Leona's vision began to get fuzzy at the edges as Yuu finally returned. She was focused on finishing her task as she grabbed another oral syringe and measured out another dose. Leona's focus zeroed in on Yuu as her hands moved.
His thoughts focused on how cute she was. His mind repeated it over and over everything he liked about her. Her hair, her eyes, her lips, her hips. All of it was cute-sexy. That sounded right.
"Leona? Hey are you okay?" Yuu asked holding out one of the oral syringes for him to take.
Leona was still aware enough to keep calm but couldn't speak. His tongue felt thick and heavy.
"Leona." Yuu glared "Are you seriously going to make me give it to you myself. Your just as bad as Ruggie."
Leona felt a twinge of irritation at the mention of the hyena. She was supposed to be taking care of him, no other men mattered. He grabbed Yuu's hand and pressed the end of the syringe to his lips.
Yuu sighed as she relented.
"It's not going to taste good but I promise I'll reward you," Yuu said slowly pressing down the plunger.
Leona's nose wrinkled as the medicine filled his mouth. He almost pulled away until Yuu placed a hand on his head. She weaved her hand through his hair and stroked his ears.
The fuzzy feeling returned as he felt a melting warmth in his chest.
"Good boy." She said scratching Leona's ear and pulling way. "Wow, your eyes look dilated. Let me get my ophthalmoscope."
Leona growled at the loss of warmth and pulled Yuu back as she turned around.
"Leona?!" Yuu yelped, her back pressed against the lion's chest.
Leona didn't respond as he pressed his face against Yuu's neck. Her skin was soft, warm and smelled so good. He nipped at her skin affectionately and she tasted so good. He wanted more.
Yuu gasped as Leona licked a long stripe up her neck. He got aggregated when his tongue touched fabric and growled as he began pulling the lab coat off.
"W-wait stop! What's gotten into you?" Yuu wrenched herself from the lion's grasp.
Finally, she noticed the candy wrappers littering the floor. She had bought these from Sam with the assurance that they were full of catnip and would make any ornery cat affectionate. It also had a warning about eating too many. From the wrappers, Yuu guessed that Leona took a bunch to spite her. Typical.
Yuu should have known.
Quickly the doctor examined Leona. His eyes were heavily dilated with more black showing than his usual emerald green. His tail swung back and forth. His claws looked bigger than usual too. They were digging into the padded table like earlier but now they seemed to get sharper.
What was worrying Yuu the most was the look in his eyes. A look that any cat owner knows very well that translated to "I'm being a huge dumbass"
Yuu needed to get Leona somewhere safe before anyone finds out he was drugged. She wasn't explaining to Vargas why his star player is high as a kite. That meant taking Leona back to Ramshackle.
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Yuu dropped the clingy lion on her bed and huffed in irritation. It took longer then necessary to get to the dorm.
Yuu had to bribe Ruggie with a jar of her handmade biscuits. He's either eaten all of them or is reselling them to the rest of Savanaclaw. Jokes on him those biscuits ate full of "calming" herbs that are completely legal. Unlike the ones she got from Sam which she has no idea if they are.
The joke might be on her. There might be an epidemic of catatonic beastmen.
Yuu chooses to blame Leona for this.
Leona on the other hand looked very pleased with himself as he lazily rolled on Yuu's bed and rubs his face on Yuu's pillows and getting his scent all over it.
Yuu grabs the pillow to stop him. Leona grabs her wrist and presses his cheek against her palm. The lion made a pleased rumble and encouraged Yuu to touch him more.
"You are lucky you're being cute. Cute doesn't even suit someone like you. I should be angry that you are making me do this." Yuu faked annoyance.
Leona must have known as he grinned wolfishly.
"Get over here." He pulled Yuu down with him.
Yuu yelped as Leona's arms wrapped around her. His face once again buried against her neck. His brown locks tickled her skin and his rough tongue lapped at her collar.
He let out brief heavy sighs that Yuu recognized as chuffing. Leona was very excited.
Leona's mind as fuzzy as everything felt could feel Yuu. Her scent surrounded him, forming a warm blanket around him. Her soft skin was like a pillow and all he wanted to do was sink into her. He wanted her, all of her. By his side.
Yuu knew she should protest. She should stop him. Leona was stronger than her but he'd listen if she demanded it. But he was happy and relaxed right now. She could just wait it out.
So she did or she tried to.
The pair cuddled as they napped. Yuu's hands mindlessly stroked Leona's head. She felt the rumbles that vibrated in his chest. Leona had moved to rest his head on Yuu's chest as his hand pushed under the hem of her shirt to touch more of the dewy skin he craved.
The haze in his made had cleared mostly before turning into something stronger and much worse. An insatiable need but at least he had his mind back.
The moment he realized he had begun to unconsciously attempt to remove Yuu's shirt he pulled out of her arms.
"Fuck!" He growled. It was one thing after another. It was like her body and mind were at war.
Yuu jolted awake before shifting to stare at Leona. She was glad he was back to normal at least. With all their past bickering she should expect he didn't want to remain with her but it still hurt. They weren't bitter enemies or anything, he didn't need to push her way like that.
"You didn't need to be so rough. It's your fault we're here anyways. You should listen when I told you not to eat more than one." Yuu scolded.
Leona pushed his palm against his forehead to ease his stress. His lips curled revealing his sharp canines.
"Stop talking." He growled again.
Yuu was getting agitated too but her instincts told her that Leona wasn't feeling well. Probably recovering from the drug.
"Leona, it's okay. Calm down and let me-" Yuu touched his shoulder intending to check his symptoms. Suddenly she was pinned down with her wrists held captive in Leona's hands.
Leona hovered over her his eyes narrowed into slits and his lips pulled back in a predatory snarl.
"I SAID SHUT UP!" He growled before just as quickly he pulled away like she was burning him "If you know what's good for you you'd stay away."
Yuu was incredulous. One second he's all over her now he can't stand her. Hot and cold.
"You don't get to tell me shit. I'm your doctor if I want to check on you that's my job and I will do it." Yuu glared but the heat of her stare disappeared as she was the pained furrow of Leona's brow.
Despite what anyone thinks she wasn't dense, at least not when it pertained to beasts. They were the only thing she really understood.
When they were in pain it was hard to tell because in the wild looking weak meant death as you'd be the first to be picked off. So animals hide their pain and only an experienced owner/vet could tell when something was off. Likewise, Yuu knew Leona was unwell and it was her job to fix it.
"Leona," She began.
"Stop talking...please." He said through gritted teeth.
"Why?" She asked quieter.
Leona huffed in agitation.
"You're voice. Is sounds so good right now. And whatever was in that fucking candy is going to make me lose it."
"Lose what?"
Just as she said this she caught a glimpse of what Leona was talking about. A firm outline was very visible.
"Yuu," He didn't call her herbivore "You need to leave immediately. For your own sake."
"What about yours?"
"The fuck is wrong with you. I just said you'd be put in danger."
"It's my fault, isn't it? I should help you."
"Can you help with this?" Leona gestured to the prominent shape in his pants.
Yuu didn't make eye contact.
The practical remedy for these things was to let them run their course and in the case of animals like ferrets find them a partner or else they will die of heat. The natural cure as it was. He'll she had to help tend to stallions and bucks during the breeding season when a request for quality DNA for a foal came in. It was just as gross as your imagining. So this was nothing.
I'd didn't make it any less embarrassing. Because Leona was notably a person, a good-looking one at that, and not a noisy smelly beast that is way too pleased with himself while a group of handlers gets him off.
"I don't mind. I can help. I do have some responsibility for this." Yuu mumbled the last part.
"How?" Leona demanded his tail flicked.
Yuu could have suggested her hands or maybe her mouth if she knew what she was doing but she had to say-
"You could use my thighs. They aren't really small." Yuu squeaked thinking about how weird that sounded. I mean who thinks of thighs first.
Leona.
Leona did.
He really liked Yuu's thighs.
With all the consent he needed Leina wordlessly pulled at the vet's pants but was stopped at the underwear. Yuu hesitated before pulling off her undergarments she felt underprepared. He shirt and bra went as well. She felt exposed but she wasn't a coward.
"Let me get some oil," Yuu said blushing as she turned to grab the body oil she used on the nightstand. As she sat up and crawled to the other side she felt hands wrap around her hips and was dragged right back under Leona.
Leona grabbed the bottle roughly before pouring it on Yuu's lap.
Despite his condition, Leona was as gentle as he could manage as he rubbed the oil on her body. Yuu shuttered feeling his large firm hands around her thighs and hips.
Leona quickly removed his clothes and at least now they were in a similar state of undress. Now Yuu didn't feel as exposed as she got an eyeful of Leona.
Despite his sedentary lifestyle, she was unsurprisingly built. Yuu was just as much a fan of muscles as Leona was of thighs.
Now Yuu could see just how big this kitty was and oh boy. He was big. 7 glorious inches and thick. Actually it was a bit knobby? Oh God, it had barbs. Okay not barbs like his animal counterpart, his was softer. It was similar to one of those bad dragon toys. Not that Yuu knew anything about that, that would be weird.
Don't look under her bed.
Leona could smell her arousal and knew she liked what she saw. The desperate desire that flooded her brain eased up a bit at the recognition.
Yuu could feel the smug aura breaking through and spoke up.
"Don't expect to fuck me without a kiss first." She smirked.
Leona made a pleased growl as their lips met in what would be the first of many kisses. He was eager to turn those soft pink lips red and swollen. He imagined them wrapped around his cock plenty of times, mostly during their arguments.
But now those lips were his as he nipped and bruised them as he liked.
Yuu pulled away as she gasped for air before being pulled back as Leona hungrily demanded more.
He pushed his cock between her soft oiled thighs and began to fuck them. Yuu's words of shock were muffled as Leona's tongue distracted her.
She felted into him as every thrust teased her clit as Leona just barely grazed it.
"I wonder if it's tighter inside." He murmured as he moved to Yuu's already bruised neck from earlier. He was turned on by the obvious claim.
He slowly lapped at her chest, taking a nipple into his mouth and suckling roughly before letting go. Yuu let out a shaky gasp as Leona played with her breasts. All the while thrusting against her but not enough to satisfy.
Yuu's excitement waned. It wasn't enough. No more teasing. She wanted him. Now.
Like a demanding lioness, she shoved Leona back. Leona frowned a bit insulted.
"Fuck me. Properly. Now." Yuu demanded.
Now this was something Leona was familiar with. In his homeland, it was always women who demanded sex from their male partners and they were never shy about what they wanted. Something he found annoying when it came to non-beastwomen who played too many games or acted shy instead of saying what they wanted.
It was like an itch that was finally being scratched as he lined up between Yuu's legs. Her gaze was fierce and expecting and all the more exciting. Gods he loved this woman, who else gives as good as they get.
One thing Leona had not realized by this point was that the drug had worn off. It had only two effects the initial intoxication phase and the detoxification phase which he had gotten through with Yuu serving as a distraction to ease the pain. Like a hangover but horny.
Leona slowly pushed into Yuu's entrance and fuck it felt good. Tight, hot, and felt like velvet. If it wasn't for the copious amount of oil he doubted he'd fit this easily. Leona stroked Yuu thighs as they wrapped around his hips.
"Good girl." He praised turning her favorite phrase she used on her patients on her.
Yuu shifted and whimpered. White hot pleasure buzzed through her core. She wanted Leona to do it again.
Leona rocked his hips against her. Yuu didn't get time to catch her breath as Leona began to fuck her. She was right about the barbs. They felt amazing as they stimulated her insides.
"Fuck! Mmnn!" Yuu moaned "Yes! Harder!"
Leona eagerly speed-up making sure each thrust was deep. Watching Yuu fall apart.
"You love this don't you?" Leona asked pulling her against his chest.
Yuu wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Please don't stop." She begged.
Leona rubbed her clit and watched as she cried out. He buried his cock deep inside her as she came. Her back arched as she felt everything at once.
"Leona!" He cried out her voice trembled along with a chorus of whimpers and moans.
But Leona still was satisfied as he fucked her through her orgasm. He adored the expression she made while she was fucked dumb. Her moans sounded less like words and more like whines of a beast in heat. The only appropriate sound for a time like this.
"You love being claimed don't you? Do you want to be mine that badly?" He asked biting her shoulder.
"Yours? Im yours? " Yuu yelped in reply.
Leona's tail twitched in satisfaction as he fucked her with renewed vigor. That was all he needed to hear. Even after he finished he couldn't stop himself before he continued to pound her into the sheets. She was his. All his. Only his. Even when she was sore and crying out for him nothing could change that now.
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Yuu was sore and tired and annoyed. She was cuddling Leona again with e weird sense of Deja Vu. Leona was in a much better mood for once.
The sex was amazing of course but she was still annoyed. Yuu tugged on one of Leona's ears to get his attention.
"Just so you know I'm not yours. Your mine got it." Yuu said firmly.
"You said it first." He argued back not leaving her embrace.
The two still found the energy to argue again but this time ina more affectionate manor.
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Meanwhile, Ruggie had learned about the effects of canine CBD snacks.
"I can taste colors."
Ruggie was currently on the floor staring at the ceiling but in his mind, he was traveling across time and space.
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Ruggie: This edible ain't sh-
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dotster001 · 11 months
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Daddy End
Previous Chapters: One Two Three Choose Another Ending
Please see me after class
That's what was scrawled on the top of your paper.
"What did you do?" You hissed at your kitty companion, who was usually the reason you had to stay after class. If you could go back in time, you would tell yourself not to accept "beast tamer" as a title.
"Nothin'" he hissed back. "Maybe you're the one who messed up this time."
"Not likely," you hissed back, before seeing Crewel giving you a disapproving stare. You turned back to your cauldron, deciding to grill your roommate later.
"Everything okay?" Alano, your lab partner from Octavinelle, asked.
"Yeah, Crewel just wants me to talk to him after class."
"Do you want me to wait for you?"
"No, but I appreciate the offer. It means a lot."
You gave him a reassuring smile, and he nodded skeptically, before adding another item to the cauldron.
After a tense 45 minutes, the class cleared out, and you stood before Crewel's desk. He sat back in his chair for a moment, and sighed.
"As I understand it, I haven't been chosen to be your husband, by your cat."
"Wha-" you started, but he cut you off by pressing a red gloved finger to your lips.
"No, no, it's alright, pup. If I am truly not worthy, then I shall have to accept that."
His finger to your lips turned into a gentle caress, ending with his hand resting on the side of your neck. Your head was spinning, as his cologne clouded your senses. After a pause, he gave another heavy sigh, before saying in a low voice,
"But if you ever change your mind, and want to give me a second chance," he gently squeezed your neck, not enough to hurt you, just enough to send a shiver up your spine, before slowly pulling his hand away, "Even just for one evening, where I can feed you the finest of delicacies and dress you in the finest of clothes, and simply bask in your presence, you know where to find me."
He sat down, and began working on papers, as though he hadn't just told you that your kitty roommate had ignored your orders not to sell you off, while simultaneously making you wish he'd sold you off, specifically to him.
"Um, professor?" Your tongue was lead in your mouth, and you felt like you'd need to drink a lot of water with how dry your mouth felt.
"Divus, my pet."
He wasn't even looking up at you. You made an attempt to clear your throat.
"D-Divus, I don't know anything about what you're talking about…"
He gave an unenthusiastic hum.
"But I wouldn't be opposed…"
Another hum.
"That is, if you wanted to…"
He looked up at you, face blank. Your cheeks started to burn, and you prayed to whatever was out there that he didn't know how flustered he had made you. You weren't that lucky, though. You were pretty sure he knew.
"You know…" you finished, pretty much below a whisper.
He stared at you for a moment, before gasping.
"Could it be, my favorite pet feels the same as I do?" He stood, his eyes widening. "Could it be, I still have a chance with you?"
He reached out his hand to cup your cheek, before faltering, and holding it in place. You gently took his outstretched hand in yours, giving it a light squeeze.
He smiled a gentle, relieved smile, and it struck you how he wasn't that much older than you really. He still was just a lovestruck school boy, who'd happened to be smart enough to graduate earlier than some, and rose through the ranks quickly, probably due to some money saving scheme of Crowley's. He seemed just as nervous about asking you out as you were about him.
"I know this classy little pasta restaurant. It's not overly luxurious, but still fancy. Would you meet me back here in an hour, so we could go together?"
There was that schoolboy light in his eyes again.
You nodded, and he kissed the back of your hand, before gently shooing you out.
You were far too flustered to notice Grim and Crowley standing in the doorway and glaring at Crewel.
"And that's how it's done, gentlemen," Divus said with a smirk, once you were out of earshot. He grinned at Grim.
"Don't worry too much about it, kitty, you'll have plenty of riches and deluxe tuna from me, even though it hurt dreadfully to know you didn't pick me."
Crowley pouted even deeper.
"You're lucky I'm so generous, or…"
"Or what? Face it, Dire, we both know who the better sugar daddy is here."
And with that he brushed past both of them, humming a happy little tune to himself as he prepared for his date.
The End
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yandere-writer-momo · 9 months
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I just wanted to make something cute. Something about yandere platonic Pickle gets me going
@fangurlzrul3 and I were talking in discord about giving Pickle Dino nuggies with honey bbq sauce the other day so I decided to make some cute head canons
Yandere Baki Head Canons
Teaching Pickle the modern way of living (platonic)
Pickle x researcher reader
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Pickle
Now being Pickle’s caretaker wasn’t something you ever expected to be, but here you were… taking care of Pickle
You wouldn’t look Pickle in the eye for the longest time in fear that he’d attack you so you’d hand him little trinkets to get him to leave you be. His favorite was a little bell you handed him. You’d hear him jingling in the other room
But as time went on, Pickle became more comfortable around you.
Pickle sits in the doorway of the lab and just stares at you. He’s kind of like a cat or a dog with his curiosity
Pickle brings you small gifts he finds around the lap. A bottle cap, a mouse trap, and some paper clips have found their way into your desk drawer for you ‘Pickle collection.’ You didn’t have the heart to throw anything away that he gave you
Pickle would stare longingly at your lunches so you began to share your meals with him. Pickle loves the little octopus shaped sausage and he was especially fond of chicken nuggets
Pickle is a chicken nugget fiend. He will eat all of them from your lunch, even the crumbs
You introduce him to honey mustard and honey barbecue sauce and he’s starstruck. Pickle begins to love eating. He comes over to you and points at his mouth every time he sees you
Pickle hates vegetables. He spits them out every time. Even if you cover them in sauce, he will spit them out (and suck off the sauce)
Pickle loves candy and sweet! He adores cotton candy and bubble gum. It took him awhile to figure it out, but now he knows how to blow bubbles. You always hear them popping when you walk past him
You give Pickle a spoonful of nut butter (specifically peanut butter) whenever you need to get your paper work done. He will sit on his haunches and lick at the roof of his mouth for a couple minutes
You’ve tried introducing toys to him but he doesn’t understand. Pickle eats the checkers, chess pieces, cards, and even the hot wheel cars. He’s a monster
Pickle threw the baby doll you gave him across the room when it started crying so you ruled out interactive toys too
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starry-bi-sky · 22 days
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Stuck in the middle of a forest made of
Flesh and bones and they're all scared of
A lost little boy who has lost his heart
Fear's not enough, they have to
Tear him apart —-------
There are two things Daniel Fenton knows that his family knows as well: 
He’s adopted.
He can’t remember anything else before that.  
‘Adoption’ is a loose term, implying that they went through the official legal processes and troubles of adopting a child into their home willingly, and with the full intention of doing so going into it. That is not what happened. What happened is that Jasmine Fenton found a half-dead child, in strange clothing, in the middle of the woods at her Aunt Alicia’s cabin, and then she went and got her parents. 
What happened is that a twelve year old Danny woke up in the same cabin, wearing clothes much too big on him that didn’t belong to him, and with very little memory of before that moment. He wakes up like a spring being set loose, sitting up so fast he scares the daylights out of Jasmine Fenton sitting next to him. He wakes up, reaching for his sleeve for something that isn’t there, and when it isn’t his mind stutters, like he’s tripped at the top of a steep hill. 
When they ask him for his name, he tells them, clearing muddled thoughts from his mind; Danny. He’s twelve.
(He thinks that’s his name, at least. It sounds right; it feels right. If he thinks really hard about it, he thinks he can remember someone calling him that, utter adoration in their voice. So it must be his name.) 
The Jasmine girl convinces her parents to take him home with them, and they give him the spare guest room upstairs. He has nothing to fill it with.
It’s… a strange experience, to go to a ‘new’ home when he doesn’t even remember his old one. 
The official adoption process… happens. He can’t say it’s easy, or difficult. He’s oblivious for the most of it, Jasmine intends on helping him settle in and Danny can’t say he enjoys the smothering. He learns that he is stubbornly self-independent, that’s one new thing he knows about himself. 
His adoption papers say ‘Daniel J. Fenton’. Danny remembers staring at the name ‘Daniel’ for a long, long moment, something curdling sour in his sternum. His name is Danny, that he knows. But it’s not Daniel. But he doesn’t know any other way of saying it, so he keeps his complaints to himself.
(Jack Fenton boisterously claps his hand on Danny’s shoulder and jerks him around, grinning wide as he welcomes him into the Fenton Family. Danny’s mind blanches at the touch on his shoulder, an instinct snapping like the maw of a snake, telling him to cut off the man’s fingers for daring to touch him.) 
(He keeps the thought to himself, tension rising up his shoulders the longer Jack Fenton’s heavy hand stays on him.) 
They found Danny in the summer. It’s a perfect coincidence, Maddie Fenton says before she goes back into her lab with Jack Fenton. She says it’s enough time to allow Danny to adjust; that they’ll enroll him into the school year in the fall. Then she stuffs a canister of ectoplasm onto the top shelf, and disappears like the ghosts she studies back down the stairs.  
(There’s something eerily familiar about the ectoplasm sitting in the fridge, something unsettlingly so. Danny knows what that stuff is, but he doesn’t know where. When the house is empty, he takes a can from the fridge and inspects it.)
Jazz wants him to leave the house. Danny doesn’t want to step foot outside of the FentonWorks building until he has something that quells the feeling of vulnerability he gets whenever he does. He tried to once, and he felt exposed. Unsafe. 
He turned back around and went inside.
—-------
Where do we go
When the river's running slow
Where do we run
When the cats kill one by one
—------
One day, when the house is empty — or, as empty as it can be; the Fenton parents down in the lab, and jazz out with friends. Danny is making a sandwich, and he caves into the urge to flip the knife in his hands between his fingers. A childish impulse, but one he falls for nonetheless. It comes to him easily, like second nature, in fact. The slip of the blade between his fingers is seamless, flowing with an ease like water running down the wall.  
He’s almost startled by it; his body holds memories that his mind does not. Muscles that know which way to move and twist, limbs that know how to hold and how to throw. He continues twirling it, fascinated, as if he were a scientist discovering a new species of animal. 
It’s not for a handful of minutes when a new thought hits him; an impulsive thought that pops in the back of his mind like a firecracker; Danny moves without thinking. 
He turns, and throws the knife. The pull of his shoulder, the flick of his elbow, is familiar like a hug. He knows when to let go, and the blade flies through the air in impressive speed, embedding itself into the wall with a hearty, loud thunk. Sinking into the drywall like butter. 
Danny stares at it in shock, he feels relieved — about what? — before he feels the guilt. He scrambles across the kitchen to pull it out, heart racing in his chest at being caught, and prays no one notices the hole it left behind. 
(He runs up the stairs before anyone can find him, food forgotten, and hides the knife beneath his mattress like a guilty murder weapon.)
After that, he leaves the house more. It’s more out of fear of being caught than the desire to leave. But Danny is quickly learning that among all things, he is someone who was dangerous, before he lost his memory. Even with his mind in fractures, he is still dangerous. 
He’s not sure how to feel about that — he thinks he should be scared. He feels a little proud, instead.
—------
Hazel beneath our claws
While we wait for cerulean to cry
Unsettled ticks run through time
Enough for the hunt to go awry
—-----
There’s another thing he learns about himself. That he knows about since he woke up. He knows that he left someone behind. He doesn’t know who, but he knows they must have been close; he’s always looking down and finding himself surprised when the only shadow he sees is his own. 
He thinks that he must have sung to them a lot; he finds himself humming familiar melodies when he’s lost in thought. Lullabies lingering at the tip of his tongue, an instinct to turn and sing them to someone beside him. He can’t remember the lyrics, but his mouth does, it tries to get him to say them when he’s not thinking. He can’t. 
Danny’s found himself humming under his breath more times than he can count, trying to recall whatever it is his mind is trying to claw forward. 
(“That’s a pretty song, Danny.” Jazz tells him at breakfast one day, Danny screws his mouth shut. He hadn’t realized he was humming. “What is it?”) 
(Something mean and possessive rears its head on instinct, uncoiling like a snake from its ball. His shoulders hunch defensively, he bites his cheek to prevent himself from baring his teeth. He doesn’t know what song it is, but it’s not for her. “I don’t know.”)  
He misses his person. Dearly. He knows, the longer he is without them, that they must have been close. Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel like he’s missing a chunk from himself. He wouldn’t be turning to someone who's not there; reaching for a hand that’s missing, birdsong on his tongue, a story to tell. 
A dream haunts him one night. Warm and familiar, he’s holding onto someone smaller than him, they’re tucked into his side like a puzzle piece. He’s humming one of his songs that is always playing in the back of his mind, an unfinished tale of a harpy and a hare. Danny can’t remember their face, not all of it. He remembers green eyes, hair dark like his own, skin brown like his. 
He loves them more than anything else in the world, a fact he knows down to his soul. He loves them so much it fills his heart with sunlight. Danny squeezes them tight, nuzzling into their hair; he makes them laugh. Then, he proudly boasts something. That when he takes something of their father’s, that his person — a sibling? That feels right — will be… the word fades from Danny’s mind before he can make sense of it. 
His person hugs him tight, his… brother? And their mother — a woman whose face he can’t remember either, but who he loves like a limb nonetheless — appears, smiling. Her hands reach for them both, voice calling them, ‘her sons’. There’s ticking in the distance, it sounds like the fastening of chains.
Danny wakes up cold, tears streaming down his face. The details of the dream already fading from his mind like the cold pull of a corpse.   
—-------
Harpy hare
Where have you buried all your children?
Tell me so I say
—-------
When school starts that Fall, Danny joins the sixth grade class, and quickly learns more things about himself. One of those things being that he’s smarter than the rest of his grade, whatever education he had before, it was better than the one he’s getting now. 
Everyone knows he’s adopted right off the bat. He tells them when the teacher forces himself to introduce himself, but it’s not like they needed him to tell them for them to know; he never existed in their little world before now, and the Fentons are pale as they come. Danny is not.
He befriends Sam Manson and Tucker Foley; they ask him about the scars fading up and down his arms, they ask him about the scar carved diagonal across his face.
Danny, as politely as he can, tells them he doesn’t remember. He thought kindness would come second nature to him, his dream burned into his mind where he hugged his brother so sweetly. Apparently, his sweetness is only second nature to people he considers his own. 
(It becomes even more apparent when Dash Baxter tries to bully him later that day, and Danny ruffles like an eagle threatened. His mind whispers, hissy and agitated, sinking like a shadow at his shoulder, several different ways Danny could kill him for talking to him like that, and fifteen more ways he could cripple him.)
(Danny ignores those thoughts, up until Dash Baxter tries to grab him. Then he breaks his nose on the wood of his desk. It’s easy how quickly the rest of his grade sinks him down to the status of social pariah.)
(At least Sam and Tucker still talk to him after that. When Danny goes to the principal’s office later, he wisely doesn’t mention the worse things he could’ve done than break Dash Baxter’s nose.)  
—--------------
It clicks and it clatters in corners and borders
And they will never
Hear me here listen to croons and a calling
I'll tell them all the
Story, the sun, and the swallow, her sorrow
Singing me the tale of the Harpy and the Hare
—-------
More dreams come, of course they do. Each one halfway to forgotten whenever he wakes up, ticking faint in his ears. He is many different ages. He is young, shorter than a table. He is older, holding onto his little brother. He is singing in almost every single one. He is singing to his brother. 
Danny can barely remember the lyrics, he’s begun leaving a journal by his bedside so that it’s the first thing he can write down when he wakes up. He’s a storyteller, he learns. He feels like a historian, trying to piece together a culture long dead and forgotten. 
His most vivid dream-like memory is not a happy one, and for once he’s almost relieved he barely recalls it. He is somewhere that isn’t home, but his mother and brother are there. He is dressed in black, blades keen in his hands. 
They are atop a moving train. They are fleeing something. His brother is struggling to keep up, he is small, and young. It’s beautifully sunny, they are somewhere green and lovely. 
It is a fast dream. 
His brother stumbles on something, and Danny, fast as a whip, snatches him by the back of his shirt and hoists him up to his feet before he can fall. “Watch your feet, habibi.” He murmurs low, a hand on his back. It’s hard to hear, there is wind in their ears.
His brother, face obscured in all but his eyes, which are green as emeralds, nods. 
The dream blurs, but Danny falls behind. His foot catches on air — impossible, it should’ve been, at least. He never trips. — and he lands against the roof with a thud and a grunt. His mother and brother stop, and turn for him. 
The train hits a turn before Danny can get up, and he shouldn’t have, something pulls on him, he swears, but he slips. He can’t find the purchase to pull himself up, cold fear hits him as his nails scrape against the metal. 
His mother and brother’s horrified faces are the last thing he sees before he disappears off the side of the train. 
(The ticking is at its loudest when he wakes up, pounding against his inner skull. He only manages to write down ‘train fall’ in his journal, before he’s flipping over to press his head into his pillow to get the pain to stop.) 
—---  
She can't keep them all safe
They will die and be afraid
Mother, tell me so I say
(Mother, tell me so I say)
—-------
When Danny is fourteen he is still humming songs he can’t remember, his mind still in a broken puzzle. But his room is now decorated with stars and plants in every corner. He has a guitar he keeps in the corner of his room, and he plays the lullabies in his head on the strings over and over again. 
The ectoplasm in the fridge still unsettles him, still reminds him of a past he can’t recall. The knife beneath his mattress has returned to the kitchen — he doesn’t need it. He found a box in the attic last year, it had his name on it, and inside he found familiar, strange clothes, and more weapons than he thought was possible to carry on one person. 
(Even without knowing that the Fentons prefer guns to blades, Danny knows, instinctively, that they were his weapons. He was — was? Is — a dangerous person. He takes the box down to his room to sort through. The weapons all fit into his callused hands almost perfectly — the grooves worn to fit his palm. They’re just a little small.) 
(He tentatively takes a small blade with him to school one day, and feels much more comfortable with it sheathed beneath his shirt. He’s kept it on him ever since, like he’s reunited a lost limb to himself.)   
Danny doesn’t have a name for his person, his little brother, nor does he have a name for his beloved mother. He’s haunted by dreams every few weeks, many of them repeating. He’s ingrained the words he can remember to memory, and the ones he doesn’t, he writes down in his journal. His little brother; Danny calls him a bird, he can’t figure out what kind. His little bird of some kind; when Danny takes something from their father — what, he can’t remember what — then his little brother will be a little bird. 
(He doesn’t have a name for his brother, yet, but he’s calling his birdie in his head. It’s better than nothing.)
—------
Seeker, do you ever come to wonder
If what you're looking for is within where you hold
Will you leave a trail for them to follow a path
You'll soon forget
Home
—---------
When he’s fourteen, Danny dies. It does nothing to fix his fractured memories, much to his consternation. It just confirms something he already knows; that he was someone dangerous, and that he still is. 
When the shock of death has worn off, Danny inspects his ghost in the metal reflection of the closest table. It’s blurry, hard to see, but shock green eyes pierce back at him, green like the portal. Lazarus, Danny’s mind whispers, and he blinks rapidly.
‘Lazarus,’ he mouths to himself. It’s familiar. Sam shows him with her phone what he looks like, joking that he looks like an assassin. Danny doesn’t think she’s that too far off. 
He doesn’t tell her that. He tucks the thought away with the rest of his secrets, and fiddles with the hood gathering at his neck, attached to a cape with torn edges swinging down to his ankles. He pulls it over his shock white hair. It shadows over his face impossibly so, until all you can see are his green-green eyes peering out like a wolf hiding in the brush.
He ends up calling himself Phantom. 
(Maybe now he can start putting lyrics to his lullabies; his memories may not have returned, locked away with the sound of a clock, but the dead can talk. One of them may just have answers.) 
----------
Home is where we are
Home is where you are
Home is where I am
-----------------
Dedicated to @gascansposts for being the one who introduced me to the band Yaelokre, and thus being the whole reason I was inspired to write this in the first place >:] Those lyrics at the line breaks are all from their album Hayfields.
#dpxdc#dp x dc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc crossover#dpdc#danyal al ghul au#amnesiac danyal al ghul au#songs in order of the album: the hartebeest / harpy hare / and the hound / neath the grove is a heart#musician danny has my heart and soul#yes this danyal IS an alternative danny from the other au. an au where things were a little better :) but still sucks#implied good mom talia al ghul#danyal is a momma's boy send tweet#dpxdc ficlet#dpxdc prompts#dp x dc au#dp x dc fanfic#danyal is sTILL five years older than damian in this au#no beta no edits we die like danny fenton#poc danny fentons#i didnt know where to end this :(( i was gonna go on but i blanked. i thought about going into his relationships with his rogues and so on.#but that felt too much like trying to just increase the word count rather than actually writing?? if that makes sense#ugh im gonna have forgotten to include things and im gonna be kicking myself later#morally ambiguous danny whoo! we love to see it#since this was just for fun it doesnt really go into it all that much other than like. it happens. and that danny realizes he's dangerous#phantom in a hazmat suit? nah phantom looking like an assassin >:].#danyal al ghul with damian and his mom: 🥰🌸✨#danyal al ghul with everyone else: 👹🔪#am i heavily implying that clockwork had smth to do with Danyal’s amnesia and appearance by the cabin? 👀 maybe#not enough danyal al ghul aus where him being an assassin actually. has some kind of affect on him
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phoenixblaze1412 · 6 months
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Could I request child reader who’s always really curious and frequently ends up getting hurt in dottores lab
Reminders to avoid confusion: Webttore will be called Theta, Omega is the segment in Sumeru who got the gnosis, Prime is Zandik himself.
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To say that the segments were confused would be an understatement.
They are looking at you, who was being carried by Prime, as if you are a new species that they have never seen before across all Teyvat.
Meanwhile you, looking at them with your doe eyes, could only stare at them in wonder. Curiosity flashing across your face as you gripped on Prime's clothes so as to not fall.
"The fuck is that?" asked the segment with a mask that almost covers his whole face.
"'That' is a child, Beta. I suggest that all of you should keep the swearing to a minimum when in their presence." Prime said as another segment approached you and poked your cheek.
"Where did you even find them? Don't children have parents?"
"Their parents have been neutralized. I didn't expect to find them still alive under all the rubble after their house burned down. But their curiosity about the world around them is quite an amazing feature which is why I decided to keep them and turn them into my apprentice."
You giggled at the segment poking your cheek, his mask making you want to see the face underneath. Your hand quickly reached out and pulled the mask away from the segment's face.
Said segment could only stare at you in shock as you looked back at his ruby red eyes with a smile, your curious eyes glancing at the other segments that were wearing masks as well.
"If you have any complaints, do speak now and tell them. If not, this child will be living with us from now on."
The whole room was engulfed with silence, the segments glancing between you and Prime.
"Then it's settled."
The segments thought it wouldn't be too hard taking care and teaching you to fulfill that curious mind of yours.
It was a lie. The segments are fucking stressed out.
Every time you're in the lab with them, you always manage to get yourself hurt because of your curiosity. That mind of yours is always hungry to learn new things. The quote 'curiosity killed the cat' is true. You're the curious cat, luckily they were able to keep you away from dying and accidentally killing yourself.
But please for the love of Tsaritsa herself, listen to what they tell you.
Smashing a test tube and getting cuts from the glass shards because you wanted to know what the weird blue liquid was when Gamma told you not to touch it? Gamma had to clean up the mess meanwhile getting scolded by Prime.
The segments made Alpha watch over you for the time being since he was doing the paperwork for the day. You were sat upon Alpha's lap while he read through each document on the desk and sorting them out. The segments thought that you wouldn't hurt yourself if you were surrounded with papers instead of glass and chemicals.
They thought wrong.
'How the fuck did you get papercuts thrice within a day?!'
Alpha was cleaning up the wounds on your fingers while muttering at how you were even able to get yourself hurt. He didn't expect you to suddenly give him one of the files and tell him the errors he missed.
Then there was Iota who got too impatient with you failing to solve a very difficult science equation that he yelled at how much of a dumbass you are only to get scolded by Prime himself. Iota swore not to do it again so as to not get caught within Prime's anger.
Not only are you always getting hurt, the segments have to deal with Prime's anger and disappointment towards them for being irresponsible with you.
The segments were somewhat glad to have either Omega or Theta around whenever Prime was busy. Aside from Prime, you listen and obey to Omega and Theta.
Still, no matter how many injuries you get and how many scoldings and punishments the segments go through, they still cherish you as their own little sibling.
Prime even gifted you the same earring of a vial filled with strange blue liquid that he and his segments wore.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU LOST THEM, SIGMA?!"
"HAVE YOU GONE DEAF, EPSILON? I LOOKED EVERYWHERE FOR THEM. I EVEN TRIED TO GET THEM TO COME OUT USING THOSE COOKIES THEY LIKE."
"We are so dead.. Prime is gonna go on a killing spree if he finds out we lost (y/n)!"
"Let's all try to calm down and try to remember where she was earlier. That way we can get a clue on where she went."
"Wait, wasn't (y/n) crying when Omega was set to go to Sumeru?"
"...THEY'RE WITH OMEGA!"
"Omega!"
Omega turned his head as he watched you run over to him and cling onto his leg.
"(y/n), what are you doing here? Do the others know that you came with me?" Omega asked as he picked you up and carried you in his arms, your earring swaying side to side with each step he took.
"I don't want you to go so I hid from the others and came with you. I also want to see Sumeru." you replied, not knowing about the chaos that is happening back at the palace.
Omega only sighed and shook his head, walking on ahead and ignoring the stares he was getting from the fatui soldiers accompanying him.
"You know Prime is going to be very upset that you left without informing him." Omega stated as he felt you tense up in his hold.
"I don't want him to be upset.. I don't want to be neutralized.." you muttered. You didn't want Prime to neutralize you, you don't even know what he meant by that but you could only think of it as a punishment. Meanwhile Omega was surprised to hear you use the term. He knows Prime would never do that to you. Sure you may be an accident-prone child but your current knowledge and views about Teyvat helped them with their research.
You are definitely fit to be Dottore's apprentice and every segment can give a reason why.
"You won't be neutralized, dear. As long as you listen to what I tell you while we're here then I'll give you a tour of Sumeru, hm?" Omega suggested, making you look up at him with a nod.
"I'll even show you the ruin guards that Prime used to tinker with back then." Omega added with a hum as he heard you squeal in excitement.
Curiosity cannot kill the cat, the segments are here to watch her back.
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spookyserenades · 1 year
Text
Trouvaille - Chapter One
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Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader
Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance
Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.
Word Count; 20.4k
Trouvaille Masterlist
Trouvaille playlist
Updates on the 7th of each month
Hello everyone, this is Dana! This is the first complete chapter of Trouvaille, an introduction to the story and several characters. I have been working on this story for a long time, so I am overjoyed to share it with others. If you'd like to be added to the taglist for the next few chapters, don't hesitate to ask, I'll gladly add you. Any comments, questions, and feedback is lovingly received, and thank you for reading, and please enjoy!
Next Chapter
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Although it was Friday, the hands of Y/N’s watch moved as if stuck in honey, hours ticking by painfully, and her patience was wearing thin. Today was her last day at her job. That morning, while sipping a cup of tea wrapped up in her quilt in bed, she had stared out the window absently as she frequently caught herself doing, fog rolling through the tall grasses of the back yard and filling the sky with stormy colors. The morning of her last day of work was like any other, planned to the minute, methodical, and solitary. Routine, she found, drove her crazy, but she wondered what exactly she would do after it’s upheaval – was it back to school, helping her mother out at the library, applying for a job at the smoothie bar, starting a ghost hunting crew? Endless possibilities boggled her even more than repetitive routine, she didn’t have a plan, and it was somewhat freeing. 
The veterinarian hospital she worked at was located in the heart of Boston, and saw near-constant foot traffic. When she arrived in the morning there were nothing but appointments to attend to, animals to check in, bags of kibble to sell, and of course, the odd surgery or two. Her position, specifically, was the on-staff exotics veterinarian, and often trained her colleagues to treat animals that weren’t cats and dogs. 
She was in the midst of her last examination, one that would likely end in surgery for a broken wing. It was getting late, there were only a handful of her colleagues left in the building, and she still had to talk to her supervisor about her leave. Y/N had chosen to word it as “taking a leave” rather than formally turning in resignation papers, as much as she was leaning towards a complete change of career. There was a chance after a few months of indulging herself in new directions that she’d come running back to the hospital.
Squinting, Y/N skimmed the clipboard containing information about the parrot she was currently treating, taking care not to touch his injured wing when she wrapped the bird in a towel for better handling.
“Lex, I need the radiograph up on the screen, please. Watch out for his beak!” Nimbly, Y/N turned the agitated bird away from the young lab tech before he nipped at her elbow. “He’s a biter, not that I can blame him, after what’s happened to his wing,” adjusting the towel around the Macaw, Y/N glanced at the large screen above the observation table. Eyes scanning the radiograph with practiced precision, she realized that the fracture was not something that could be mended with tape and time. A door closing and the sound of metal rolling in a tin alerted her of the presence of the tech she was most proud of training, a young man named John.
“John? Oh, John, thank God you’re back, did room 103 have the IM pins? I want this parrot to be stabilized as quickly as possible. I don’t think he is used to being handled,” Y/N explained, struggling to keep the bird's large beak away from her ears. Vaguely, Y/N heard Lex slip from the room, likely running to the next room for another emergency radiograph. John, his blue eyes drooping in concern, slid the tray of IM pins across the observation table while clicking his tongue. 
“Poor guy. What happened?” John asked, chest heaving with the effort of running down the veterinarian hospital halls. His creamsicle colored scrubs, an undoubtedly sunny wardrobe choice, was littered with sunset orange sweat stains and spots of animal drool as he reached across the table for the patient file. He let out a low whistle at the accident report as Y/N decided one IM pin would be plenty to get the fractured bone to realign once more.
“Wing caught in cage door? That can’t be right, especially with the size of the fracture,” John exclaimed, smooth features pulling into an incredulous expression. Eyes flicking up to the parrot, Y/N’s eyebrows knit together in frustration, John hurriedly washed his hands in the sink and pulled two pairs of latex gloves from the box next to the sink. It was the unsaid in the report that raised suspicion; how, exactly, did the bird get its wing stuck in the cage door himself? It was more common, in fact, for Y/N to treat animals that were abused; things were rarely accidents, when it came to exotics. 
“Are you ready for surgery? For the size of the bird and the fracture, I estimate we’ll be working for about three hours before he can be brought to recovery,” Y/N slipped a clean mask over her face, adjusting the frameless plastic goggles so they don’t fog, before carefully ensuring John had a hold on the parrot. John grunted in assent, likely just as bone-tired as she was. 
Rider, she faintly remembered, was the parrot’s name, as she watched white suds circle and filter down the drain. Once her hands were dry and the gloves snapped over her wrists, she felt the numbing sensation of dropping into total concentration. In a way, that was the best part of her job; the quieting of her brain for the length of a surgery, distracted by the methodical procedures, the pressure to work against the clock, and above all – the importance of helping the animal. 
Perhaps it was selfish, in a way, to crave the escape from her inner monologue considering her line of work, but some people had meditation and some people were joggers. Certainly, every sane person needed an outlet for serenity to make sense of the rest of the chaos infecting their lives. Sometimes, Y/N even believed she had combined her serenity with vocation, her work and her respite intimately entwined. Other times, at the bottom of a nondescript bottle with her friends, she grew nauseous at the rigidity of it all. 
“Prepare the K-wires, let’s get started,” Y/N declared, pulling the operating light over the table. John grunted in response, Y/N smoothing a hand over the parrot’s crown in a practiced soothing manner. 
“We’ll get you all fixed up, Rider,” Y/N whispered to the Macaw, the eyes of the parrot boring into her in a way that made her feel exposed. 
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“So, does this mean we can finally call it a day?” John asked raggedly, wiping a bead of sweat from his temple. The air outside of the operating room felt significantly fresher, the bright lights by the employee lockers snapping Y/N out of her surgical reverie. Peeling the sticky gloves from her hands and tiredly tossing them into a nearby trash can, she nodded. 
“All done, John! You can go ahead and get out of here. It’s Friday night, after all – I just have to talk to Dr. Davies before I can go myself,” Y/N smiled warmly at John. While he was one of the newest vet techs, over the past seven months at the office he had managed to surpass all of the other techs in surgical skill. 
Frowning slightly, John paused before reaching for his book bag. “Are you going to discuss your leave?” He inquired softly. 
Y/N sighed heavily. While she had enjoyed training John, and found significant fulfillment in her profession, the past few months had felt more and more draining. Being an exotics veterinarian was one of the hundreds of things she had dreamed of as a child. She had excelled in school, graduating close to the top of her class, and had even landed an amazing position at her current animal hospital fresh out of university. For the first year, Y/N saw herself at Harbor Animal Hospital long-term, aspiring to be like the incredible Dr. Tia Davies, her boss and mentor. 
As time went on, Y/N felt a sadness well up inside of her as she treated animal after animal. The world had become a cruel place full of neglect for animals, especially for the exotics she cared for. When she was a little girl, her grandparents took her to a traveling circus every summer when it came through Boston. It was there, where she watched beautiful parrots soar, elegant leopards slink through elaborate obstacles, and giraffes stand tall in all of their glory that Y/N first dreamed of working with such beautiful animals. To help them, specifically, as she grew up and realized the types of trials and tribulations the circus animals went through in order to perform, was one of her biggest desires. 
Fresh from college equipped with rosy lenses, she believed she could make a difference – but all she found was the revolving door of the hospital, each animal’s case more soul crushing than the next. Abuse, neglect, abandonment; these were the things that kept Y/N staring at her ceiling at night, waiting for sleep that would never come. She couldn’t help but notice the uptick in her anxiety and the dark circles rimming her lower lash line as time wore on, desperate to love her job again. At twenty-four years old, she ultimately came to the conclusion that in order for her to help animals in a way that mattered, she needed some time to sort out her personal feelings. 
“Yeah,” Y/N replied, raking her hand through her hair, “I just don’t know if I can keep this up, John. I’m running on empty and I just can’t shake this feeling – oh, I don’t know – of heartbreak? I just feel like I need time to regroup. I can’t afford to have my personal feelings negatively impact the animals,” she explained, corners of her mouth turning downwards. 
John nodded thoughtfully, slinging his book bag over his shoulder. He was yet to feel this way, and was generally more optimistic than Y/N, but he saw how depleted she had become over the months. She prayed that he would not end up like her; the hospital desperately needed him. 
“Well, Y/N, I’m really going to miss you around here. Hopefully the new exotics vet is just as patient as you are,” he said gently, placing his hand on her shoulder. Y/N appreciated the fact that he didn’t plead her to stay, or press the subject too hard. “Call me when you decide to come back. I’ll be waiting for you with your favorite Starbucks order!” 
With that, Y/N gave John a hearty wave as he pushed his way through the doors to the employee parking lot. She would miss him, certainly, but she had wrestled with taking a leave for months before she decided John was ready to take her place until Dr. Davies could find a full-time replacement. 
She opened up her locker, pulling down the picture of her posing at a cocktail party with her friends Ben, Laura, and Alice, the magazine clipping of Keanu Reeves as John Wick, and her bag of toiletries for when she worked late, shoving all of the items into her canvas tote bag. Simply clearing out the locker made her feel lighter in a way, albeit a tad guilty. She thought about some of the patients she saw regularly, such as the sweet elephant seal she treated at the Boston Aquarium, and felt the guilt rise up in her stomach even more. But she had already decided; she was no help to any creature in her current state. 
Setting off down the hall towards the office where the doctors kept patient files and keys to the pharmacy and lab, Y/N took one last look at the polished linoleum floors, the pastel walls, and unflattering fluorescent lights guiding her way. She knocked twice on the closed door, all of the other staff and techs gone for the day as the rapping sound echoed about the empty clinic. 
“Y/N, I’m assuming that is you? Come on in,” Dr. Davies’ sweet voice called, muffled by the sound of a medical mask. Pushing the door open, Y/N hiked her tote bag up further on her shoulder in determination.
Dr. Davies, or Tia, as she insisted everyone call her, was a kind woman in her mid-forties. She wore purple rectangular glasses and had frizzy graying hair, and looked something akin to an art school aunt. Tia always wore chunky, funky jewelry and colorful scrubs, which she had mentioned “brightened up the place”. 
“So, have you made your final decision?” Tia looked up over her glasses, setting the folder she was holding down on the desk. She stood, smiling fondly at Y/N. Swallowing down even more guilt, Y/N nodded. 
“I’m sorry, Tia. I just feel like I’ve…” Y/N trailed off while looking at the floor, at a loss for words that accurately described her feelings. 
“Hit a wall? Been emotionally drained?” Tia suggested helpfully. Eyes shooting up to meet Tia’s, Y/N’s confidence returned after she registered the understanding look on the doctor’s face. 
“In a way. I still want to help animals, and that will never change. Lately, I feel like I haven’t been able to help enough. In a way that matters. The world is… the world is so awful. To these animals, to humans–”
“–to hybrids?” Tia added encouragingly. 
Hybrids!
“Oh my God. Hybrids! I knew I was forgetting something about my schedule today!” Y/N exclaimed, blood draining from her face. 
“Oh Y/N, I remember you telling me about your plans to go with Ben and Roy to a hybrid shelter this week. Is that today?” Tia rounded the corner of the desk, grasping one of Y/N’ wrists tenderly.
“Uh, yes– it is– Ben is going to kill me. I’m supposed to meet him at Government Center in half an hour. I’m so sorry, this couldn’t have come at a worse time,” Y/N gasped out, furious at herself for forgetting such an important meeting. Her timing never seemed to be perfect. 
“Listen, Y/N, relax. It’s alright, I just wanted to let you know that my old colleague from Chicago has agreed to take your position until you return,” Tia reassuringly squeezed her wrist. “Or, if you return,” she added, a twinkle of some kind of knowing in her eye. 
“Oh, that’s such good news,” Y/N exhaled, thrilled Tia could find a replacement so quickly, a weight lifted off of her shoulders.
“I have no doubt that you will continue to help animals, you’re like me in that way. You’re young, and like me, you may have to take time to truly figure out where you fit in to make the best difference,” Tia continued, a warm feeling of kinship spreading through Y/N. 
“Tia,” Y/N mumbled in a watery manner, eyes filling up a little.
“I want you to call me, at least once a month, or whenever you need me. I’m here for you. Besides, knowing you, you’ll come up with some new venture that I absolutely need to be a part of. I’ll lend any knowledge I can,” Tia released Y/N’s wrist, opening her arms for an embrace. Now, Y/N truly had tears running down her face, burying it in Tia’s shoulder. 
“Now, get going! If you want to make it to Government Center in thirty minutes, I suggest you run the yellow lights,” Tia released her, winking. Y/N wiped a stray tear from her cheek, squaring her shoulders. 
“Thank you, Tia, for everything. I’ll call you,” Y/N affirmed, taking one more look at the kind doctor. She hurried from the office, the newfound source of anxiety of being late quickening her step to her car. 
As she launched out of the clinic, she took a deep breath in, the air free from the scent of rubbing alcohol and pet fur. While Boston city air was certainly tainted with cigarette smoke and exhaust, the light perfume of black-eyed susans studded along sidewalks filtered through pleasantly. Invigorating her, she squashed down the dread of her evening plans. 
While Y/N was well-versed in the subject of the animal kingdom, hybrids were always a source of puzzlement to her. Hybrids, a part of modern life long before her birth, were created specifically for human enjoyment in large labs, factories, and even dilapidated basement operations. When her parents were in their twenties, the price to own your own hybrid was an astronomical fee, and only the elite were photographed with hybrid companions at fundraisers and derbies. 
As the “wheel of progress” turned, hybrids spliced with large animal DNA became workhorses in many parts of the industrial USA. Hybrids working on logging plants, mining, and even construction, was faster and cheaper labor than hiring humans – an abysmal fact. In more recent times, almost anybody could adopt a hybrid, for better or for worse. Of course, the nasty sort of animal abuser found even more enjoyment tormenting a hybrid, one who could potentially fight back and feel human fear. God-wealthy “hunters for sport” lined up at fancy hybrid shelters to pick out bear and prey hybrids for their sick hobby, according to recent news headlines. 
For the most part, Y/N avoided the topic of hybrids. Although her family had money, there was never a hybrid within their home. This, she did consider odd, simply due to the fact that a large part of her family’s wealth came from her father’s revolutionary studies and practices on hybrid heart surgeries as a cardiologist. He had treated thousands of hybrids and truly cared for them, in a similar way that Y/N cared for her exotics. Her mother, on the other hand, loved hybrids, and even ran a bookclub out of the library she worked at specifically for adopted hybrids. 
Y/N chewed on her lower lip as she contemplated her relationship with the beings, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel as she waited out a red light. The radio murmured about the weather comfortingly, however, she could still feel the nervousness eating away at her stomach. It’s not like she had never talked to a hybrid, plenty of her parent’s friends had one or two. However, she couldn’t ever shake the feeling that like actual animals, hybrids could sense things about her that humans could not. In an all-knowing, exposing way. 
She blasted through the last yellow light, spotting the bright gold kettle that served as a giant Starbucks sign next to Government Center, and miraculously found a street parking spot nearby. Y/N was only ten minutes late, but in Ben’s mind, she might as well have been an hour late. Taking a quick peak in her rearview mirror, she pinched her cheeks to bring some life back into her complexion, ruffled her hair, and hastily shoved her wallet and keys into the pocket of her lavender scrubs. 
The sun was starting to set as she scuttled towards the entrance of Government Center, dreading the humidity and musty smell of the MBTA station. Ben and Roy told her to meet them inside of the station, where the couple met after Roy’s office hours. Stumbling over a cobblestone in her clunky clogs she wore to work, she cursed loudly as a pack of college students giggled at her outside of the Starbucks. Giving them a passionate Boston-style middle finger, she straightened up when she heard her name. 
“Y/N! Jesus Christ, over here!” Ben’s sharp voice cut through the Friday night rush hour traffic. Whirling around, she noticed Ben’s perfectly coiffed head of red hair, one of his Gucci loafers tapping the sidewalk impatiently. Behind him, sitting sheepishly on a fountain ledge, was his fiance, Roy. Y/N all but ran over to the two of them. 
“Shit– I’m so sorry I’m late– I got caught up in surgery and had to talk to my boss about the leave, plus the traffic, I swear, these Emerson students walk into the street on purpose,” Y/N heaved, right hand clutching her pounding heart. Roy chuckled lightly as he stood from his perch, hand smoothing over the back of Ben’s tweed suit. 
“I texted you this morning to remind you about tonight! Scatterbrain,” Ben scolded, his annoyance tempered by Roy’s gentle hand. Y/N always thought Roy was the best thing to ever happen to Ben. 
Ben Alpin was Y/N’s childhood neighbor, and although he was four years older, they were attached at the hip all throughout their youth. Ben was an amazing friend to have growing up; he was outgoing and sharp of tongue, always protective like an older brother. Considering Y/N had no siblings, Ben was the closest to one she ever had. They had gone to separate high schools, where Ben had flourished in leadership programs and dominated student council. He had always jokingly said that “money was his dream”, but Y/N knew that what he really wanted was to be a leader of some kind. He had eventually gone to Harvard Law, and was now a successful business lawyer. So successful, he was able to afford a brownstone on Beacon Hill – in the end, Y/N supposed he did indeed achieve his dream of money. 
Ben had met Roy Heath at Harvard post-grad, Roy being a new professor of architecture attending a leadership seminar Ben was hosting at the university. As far as personality, the two balanced each other out so well it was almost cosmic. Incredibly patient, calm, and easy-mannered, Roy could de-escalate a classic Ben meltdown in seconds. Y/N adored Roy, he had become a dear friend to her almost as quickly as he entered her life. He often helped her work on her house on the weekends, which offered her not only someone to reach high areas of the ceilings with a paintbrush, but a grounding presence to bask in. The two planned on getting married in less than a year, after Roy published his current thesis. 
“I know, I know… I even replied to your message! Just goes to show how absolutely fried I am these days,” Y/N complained, smacking her face against Ben’s chest and squeezing his midsection until he wheezed. Patting her back, she felt his chest rumble in amusement, surprisingly not as angry as she thought he’d be for her tardiness. 
“It’s okay, Y/N, you were barely even ten minutes late. I doubt ten minutes will determine whether or not there’s a hybrid for us,” Roy reassured her, stooping low to give her a brief hug after she let go of Ben. The latter scoffed, intertwining his fingers with Roy’s, before rolling his blue eyes. “I found three shelters online the past few months, so we’ll see which one is lucky.”
“Don’t forget that seedy one over in Downtown Crossing. That’s our last resort,” Ben added. Ben, ever the realist, had been forwarding articles about hybrid scarcity to Y/N for the last six months. For some reason, the supply of hybrids could not keep up with the growing demand of those who wish to adopt. Y/N suspected the worst – sport hunting was growing in popularity. She did not vocalize her opinion to the couple. 
“Let’s get going. The first one is right up the street by that sucky Irish pub,” Ben declared, pushing a graying-brown curl behind Roy’s ear affectionately. They were nauseatingly adorable, Y/N thought. 
Setting off, Y/N told the two all about how she asked for her leave, what she planned on doing while she had time off, and of course, her house. Stopping at a crosswalk, Ben looked at her inquisitively. 
“So, any luck finding roommates for that big old creepy house of yours?” He asked, an eyebrow arching up into his hairline at the absurdity. Y/N pouted, yet another situation she found kept her awake at night. 
Her maternal grandparents, the very same ones that took her yearly to the circus as a kid, lived in a gorgeous Stick Style Victorian manor outside of Boston when she was growing up. It had been in her family for generations, built in the 1860’s for some wealthy judge and his wife. Y/N loved the house more than anything, its hundreds of nooks, crannies, passageways, and secrets made her giddy like a child every time she went home. She had moved into the home after college, when her grandparents became too old to live on their own. They lived with her mother and father down the street, but Y/N couldn’t bear to leave the beautiful Victorian empty. The house itself would have been part of her inheritance, so she figured why not move in immediately after college?
What she didn’t realize was that her grandmother was a bit of an antiques hoarder, and her grandfather didn’t like to “fix what ain’t broke”. Meaning, the last time the place had any kind of repairs or facelifting was in the sixties. Y/N had her work cut out for her between scraping linoleum off of the kitchen floor and managing the several acres of trails and gardens on the property. Additionally, the place was gigantic – with 10 bedrooms, she could have a convent of nuns move in with her. It was this reason, (certainly not the fact that she could really use someone who could operate a ride-on lawnmower) that she had been asking around her pool of friends if they were looking for a place to live. She hadn’t found any luck. 
“Don’t remind me of that. Seriously, my head’s going to explode. I’ve been asking around for months, I’ve even told people they could pay me three walnuts to live there,” Y/N groaned, following the couple across the street. Roy was practically pissing his pants, face red with glee. 
“You know, Y/N, Roy spends enough time there hauling out your grandma’s chair collection, he should move in.”
“Hey! Working on that house is hands-on experience for me. It’s not very often architects get to work freely on a Victorian,” Roy nudged Ben with his shoulder, having to lean down six inches. The sight made Y/N snort. 
“I’m just going to throw in the towel. Maybe I’ll get five cats and they can have the run of the place,” Y/N said thoughtfully. At least with cats, she wouldn’t have to worry about a roommate filling her old home with modern Ikea decor. 
“Oh, yeah, really solidify your granny status with that. Sexy,” Ben teased, head craning backwards to give her a cheeky grin. She stuck her tongue out at him, pointing beyond his nose to the sign in front of him reading Hattie’s Hybrids. 
“Okay! This is the first one, let’s all say a quick prayer to whoever’s listening… Oh, I’m so excited, Ben,” Roy was practically bouncing, the perfect picture of an excited father. Or, potentially soon-to-be father. 
Roy’s excitement was short-lived. Pulling on the door handle, Ben realized the shop was locked up. Cupping his hands and pressing his face into the window, he frowned. 
“The lights are on, but the place looks deserted! I swear, I checked the hours online and they’re supposed to be open,” Ben exclaimed, puzzled. 
“Right here, honey,” Roy sighed, tapping a taped-up sign on the window.
We do not have any hybrids at this time. Please check back in the upcoming weeks.
“What?” Ben’s voice pitched upwards, scanning the paper. “Great. The next shelter is three blocks away. I’m going to need a drink.”
“After we check out the next two shelters,” Y/N warned, knowing how rowdy Ben could get on a Friday night bar crawl. Ben shook his hand twice, yeah, yeah, before following Roy down the sidewalk to the next location. Feeling a touch of exasperation that Hattie’s Hybrids couldn’t save her from a whole night of traipsing around the city, she closely tailed her friends in search of the next place. 
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“Fuck! I needed that,” Ben slammed his shot glass down on the crumbling wooden bar, holding up his finger to the bartender to leave the bottle of tequila behind. 
The next two shelters Roy had found were similarly locked up and deserted, which caused Ben to fly into pissed-lawyer mode. 
“How do these people even make money? I can’t understand why there doesn’t seem to be a single shelter in the city of Boston with hybrids. Where are they all?” He continued, pouring himself another shot. Roy looked discouraged, nursing a Budweiser and rubbing slow circles along Ben’s lower back. 
Y/N was similarly distressed. It was getting late, she had been in surgery most of the day, and all she wanted was to crawl into her bed. Instead, she found herself slumping around the humid city, already buzzed off of a stiff gin martini, like she was in grad school again. Mostly, she felt bad for her friends – all they wanted was to have a family together. Swirling an olive around in her glass, she hummed. 
“So I take it, we're off to the ‘seedy’ place,” Y/N encouraged, taking the last sip of her martini. They had ended up in a bar in Downtown Crossing anyways, so at least she wouldn’t have to walk up the hill towards the State House again. Ben grunted.
“Please. If those three places were shut down, I doubt the last resort is harboring a miracle. We’ll go for shits and giggles, the hot dog cart is by there anyways. I’ll have to do more research before we find our little one, Roy…” Ben trailed off sadly, downing his third shot with a shake of the head. 
“It’s alright, honey, we’ll do it together,” Roy affirmed, a sweet smile spreading across his face. Y/N felt her martini rise in her throat at the purity of it all. 
Slapping down a fistfull of cash, Ben rose from his stool, rolling his shoulders back. 
“Come on, granny, last stop before you can race back to the Haunted Mansion,” Ben helped Y/N up from her seat, leading her to the exit. 
The last shelter was less than a block away from the bar. Ben swore when the hot dog cart seemed to have shut down for the day. Roy was busy gaping at the flickering lightbulb outside of the last shelter, which had a chipping sign that simply read HYBRIDS. The door was propped open with a wooden block, the lights were on, and there was a man hunched over a cellphone at the front of a store. 
“Holy–” Roy clamped a hand over Ben’s mouth, probably trying to save him from a bad first impression. Y/N was just as floored as her friend, staring dumbly at the shabby storefront, barely registering Roy pushing Ben into the shelter. Scrambling after them, Y/N entered the building. 
The place was entirely gray. The walls, the tin desk with an ancient register, the old guidebooks lining dusty shelves, all radiated a depressing emotion. Even the man behind the desk, still watching a noisy pre-season Patriots game, had dull gray hair and a sagging complexion. Stifling a smirk at how out of place ritzy Ben looked, Y/N pressed a hand over her mouth as she sifted through a rack of hybrid-specific clothes that were about as old as she was. Roy cleared his throat, standing before the desk, Ben uncharacteristically silent as the man grumbled with annoyance, peering up at the three of them. 
Setting his phone down, the man stood arthritically before painting on a customer-service smile. 
“And how can I help youse today?” Y/N nearly snickered at the man’s Quincey accent, alcohol making her a little giddy, until she realized this man just might be the saving grace of her Friday night. “We’re havin’ a sale on them jeans over there,” the man pointed to the rack Y/N had steadied herself on.
“Uh, okay, good to know. Actually, we’re here to potentially adopt, if you have any hybrids available, that is,” Roy took the lead, Ben’s eyes glazed over as he stared at a cobweb on the ceiling. The man made a noise of understanding in the back of his throat, grabbing a key ring from the desk drawer. 
“Got just one, follow me,” the man motioned to them with a finger, unlocking the door at the back of the shop behind a shelf of books. Roy looked a bit disheartened, the chances of the lone hybrid at the shelter being a child slim to none. The trio stepped through the threshold anyways, the back room filled with what could only be compared to empty jail cells sans doors, the scent of cleaning products heavy in the air. Y/N was shocked by Ben’s continued silence, analyzing his stony expression as they reached the back of the room. There was a slim hallway to Y/N’s right, dimly lit, but they did not go down that way.
“Got this one in about two hours ago. She’s the smallest of her siblings, apparently… too hyper for them fancy shelter’s customers, or so’s I’ve been told by the person who dropped her ‘ere. Name’s Daisy, up-to-date on her doctor’s visits, guaranteed,” the shopkeeper rattled off, scratching the back of his head. He stepped to the side, allowing Ben and Roy to peer into the chamber Daisy was in. 
Sat on the little bed in the corner, engrossed in a colorful picture book, was a little girl about four years old. She had beautiful white blonde hair, long white lop ears sprouting from her crown, and was wearing a sundress with strawberries on it. She looked very well taken care of, a teddy bear clamped under her arm and hair neatly brushed. One of her ears twitched at the sound of the man’s voice, large chocolate eyes darting upwards. A tiny, toothy grin stretched across her precious face as she jumped up from the bed, book clattering to the floor. 
“Oh my gosh!” Ben gasped delightedly, the little bunny hybrid gathering a fistfull of his pant leg. Y/N was flabbergasted at the sight of such an angelic little girl in such a drab, depressing place. How in the hell did nobody adopt her?
“Hi! Hi, you’re here! They’re loud…” Daisy practically vibrated with energy, shaking the material of Ben’s pant leg excitedly. Her eyes darted down the narrow hallway Y/N had spotted moments before, one of Daisy’s ears lifting in that direction. 
“She’s beautiful! I can’t believe it – we were looking for a child just like her! Ben, what do you think?” Roy was so happy, his face was entirely pink as he bent down to say hello. The hybrid seemed to not have an ounce of shyness in her body, thrusting her teddy bear into Roy’s hand and telling him the bear’s name. 
“I think that this place was harboring a miracle after all,” Ben said in a disbelieving tone, simply glowing at Roy and Daisy’s interactions. She was chattering on about her morning, what she wanted to eat for dinner, and her new book. 
“I don’ think she’ll be here for very long,” the shopkeeper called from next to Y/N. He looked like he was aching to get back to his Patriots game. “If you wanna adopt, I suggest you do it tonight.”
“What breed is she? How old, and how much, and where do we sign?” Ben asked rapidly, blushing furiously as Roy picked Daisy up when she stretched her arms out to be held. Y/N could hardly believe the events unfolding in front of her; she knew that the couple was prepared to adopt that very night, but she was sure they wouldn’t be able to find what they were looking for right away. Suddenly, she felt like she was intruding on a private moment, no matter how close she was to Ben and Roy. 
“Uh…” the man pulled his eyebrows together, checking a clipboard velcroed to the wall. “She just turned four. Lionhead rabbit, the fancy Latin name ‘ere too if you want it. Adoption fee for her…” looking thoughtfully at Ben’s Gucci loafers, the man smirked. Y/N turned away, feeling ill from her martini, stalking off slightly down the mysterious hallway. “... $2,500. I’ll print up them papers in the office.”
Slinking down the short hallway, Y/N took a deep breath. Daisy was like a gift from some cosmic entity, and it almost seemed too good to be true. She felt warmth spread through her chest as she thought about the spare room in Ben’s townhouse, already decked to the nines with children’s toys and furniture. Daisy would want for nothing, and it was as if Ben and Roy had already fallen in love with her. Dragging her fingertips along the cinder block walls, she made a surprised sound at the heavy metal door a few feet away from her. Further down the hall, there was a normal wooden door left ajar, an office, from the looks of it. Humming, she turned her attention to the safe-like door, a big red sign nailed to the left of it. The sign read: Exotics and Aggressives - Do Not Enter. 
Now that sign certainly caught her attention – all she had to read was Exotics before a happy sensation flooded through her. Giddy, she began to rise on her tiptoes to peek through the small square window of the door, when she heard a throat clear behind her. Startled, she whipped around, guilt painting her features as the shopkeeper eyed her suspiciously. 
“I wouldn’ get too close to them, if I were you, young lady,” the man said, hands on his hips. “They’ll take off your arm in a second.”
Arching an eyebrow, Y/N’s curiosity was piqued even more with this statement. The man sighed, pointing at the window. 
“Go ahead, take a look. They’re all vicious, the jaguar bastard bit me yesterday,” he muttered, tenderly rubbing a bandage on his left forearm. Staring at the man, as if to decipher if he was egging her on or not, Y/N turned back to the window, finally peering in. 
The room was large, but all divided by iron bars, like giant cages they would keep big animals in at the clinic. At first, she had to squint to see anything other than iron, but then she let out a startled gasp as her eyes focused. 
She counted four hybrids, fully shifted into their animal forms. First, her sight landed on a gorgeous, albeit underweight, leopard, laying on its side, asleep. In the cell next to it was what appeared to be a coyote, turned away from the door and shaking like a leaf in the corner. 
“My God,” Y/N whispered, taking in the third animal, a black jaguar, most likely the one that had bitten the shopkeeper. It was asleep, breathing labored, as blood oozed from a jagged cut on his side. 
Anger welled up inside of her, beginning to turn to the shopkeeper in wrath, before her breath was cut off by the sight of the final animal she could see: the biggest Northwestern wolf she had ever seen, and it was staring right back at her. Undoubtedly a male, the wolf’s amber eyes bored into hers, ears swiveling forward in alert and teeth baring immediately. The creature’s expression sent shivers down her spine, even as he was laying down in his cell separated by the heavy door Y/N was pressed against. Unable to tear her gaze away from the wolf, she forgot all about her bed calling her name, about Ben and Roy, and about Daisy. 
“Who are they?” Y/N asked, eventually breaking eye contact with the wolf. Looking at the shopkeeper, who had pulled out his phone to check on the Patriots, didn’t even spare the door a glance. 
“Bunch o’ bastards. We get the unadopted hybrids that are found wandering the streets, the ones that are rejected by other shelters, sometimes from circuses or zoos if they stop doin’ what they’re supposed to,” he replied, sounding bored. He began to walk away, heading towards the office, when Y/N pulled herself away from the door to urgently grab his wrist. 
“Wait! I– oh,” she let go of his wrist, blushing in embarrassment. “What’s going to happen to them?” Y/N asked, fearing the worst. The man scoffed, beginning to get annoyed with her questions. 
“Listen, lady, I’ve got a guy from Manhattan coming in tomorrow morning to pick up them animals. He’s offering seven G’s for all seven of em’... for hunting or something, I don’ really care what for. It’s payday tomorrow. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to send that rabbit on her way with your buddies so I can finish the game in peace,” with that, the man stalked to the office, muttering something about “women”, the sound of a stuttering printer filling the hallway. 
Affronted, Y/N felt her heart begin to race, thinking about the beautiful leopard being hunted down, and the chances of the injured jaguar living past tomorrow evening. Feeling more ill than ever, the disgust for the world she lived in infiltrated every cell of her body. She peeked back into the room once more, immediately searching for the other three animals, but could not strain her eyesight into the far hidden corners of the room. A pained wheeze came from the jaguar, tail limply beating the floor. She looked at the wolf again, but to her surprise, he had turned around from her view and curled himself into a ball. Her heart sank, palms sliding down the door. If she didn’t feel powerless to help animals before, she certainly did at that moment. 
“Y/N? Where did you go?” Roy inquired, voice raised. She blinked rapidly, ears picking up Daisy’s childish giggle, and huffed sadly for the seven hybrids behind the locked door. While her heart was breaking for them, she wouldn’t allow herself to dampen her friend’s spirits on such a wonderful night for the two of them. 
She stiffened as the shopkeeper brushed past her, a packet in hand, grumbling in her direction. Curling her lip up in a snarl of disgust, she begrudgingly followed him, glancing at the metal door once more. 
“The papers. Let’s sign em’ up front, come on, now,” the shopkeeper grunted, stepping into the light of the main hybrid holding room. Roy still had Daisy on his hip, his face confused as it landed on Y/N. She brightened up in the best way that she could, smiling sweetly at Daisy, who had begun to sleepily nod her head against Roy’s shoulder. Ben held her teddy bear and picture book, pacing around the space she was in as if to check for any other of her belongings. 
“Sorry, guys! I had to run to the bathroom in the back,” Y/N lied, watching the shopkeeper carefully to see if he would rat her out. He rolled his eyes disinterestedly, already making his way to the storefront. Roy easily bought the lie, trusting and easygoing, face dissolving into understanding. She felt rotten about the deception, but she would feel even worse if she robbed her friends of the happy glow around them with the news of the exotic hybrids only feet away. 
Ben straightened up from where he was crouched over by the bed Daisy had been sitting on, face a touch melancholy. 
“Honey, is this all that you brought with you?” Ben asked Daisy, brushing a strand of hair away from her cherubic face. She cracked an eye open, peering at Ben’s outstretched hands holding her teddy bear and book. Nodding twice, she buried her face into Roy’s neck, sleep threatening to pull her under. Ben tutted, a look of adoration on his face. 
“I think she likes you, Roy,” Ben whispered with glee. “Let’s go sign the papers and get her home,” Ben took Roy’s free hand, flashing a brilliant smile towards Y/N, face clear of all stress from earlier. She trailed after the new family, no longer filled with exhaustion from her eventful day, but instead was consumed with cyclical thoughts. 
She felt dazed as she watched Ben smoothly sign his name on the papers, eagerly pushing them towards Roy once he finished, nearly tossing the packet off of the tin desk. The shopkeeper went back to his game on his phone, yawning, as Ben excitedly joined Y/N at the front of the store. 
“Can you believe it? Y/N, what are the chances?” Ben gushed, fingers fumbling along the bookshelf stocked with the hybrid guidebooks. Digits dancing along the spines, he carefully selected one while scratching his close-cut beard thoughtfully. The book was specific to hybrid children. 
“I can’t believe it. I also can’t believe it’s this easy to adopt – I mean, there’s no interview? Or background check?” With this statement, Ben turned to look at her curiously.
“Well, I know that the other shelters have at least one quick interview, but I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth,” Ben said slowly, sensing something off about Y/N’s countenance. “Besides, look at this place. Sadly, I don’t think Belichick over there is very concerned with who walks out of here with a hybrid. What’s up? Why do you look so upset?” 
Y/N shook her head, spotting a rabbit hybrid booklet and pulling it off the shelf for Ben. Her fingers paused, noticing a thicker book for wolf hybrids a couple of spines over. She snapped out of it, sensing Ben’s probing gaze, and handed him the booklet with a grin. 
“I’m not upset, that martini just made me feel a little sick. I think today has just been a little crazy,” Y/N explained. Ben softened at her response and her offering of the booklet, pulling her into his side tightly. 
“I haven’t thanked you yet for coming along with us today. It means more than you know, having you be here for this,” Ben confessed, squeezing her once. 
“Always,” Y/N replied, tears threatening to fall for the second time that day. He let her go, lifting the books in the air, heading to the register to pay the final fee before they could leave with Daisy. 
“That’ll be $3,000 even – with the tax an’ the books,” The shopkeeper punched numbers into the noisy cash register, cursing as the sport’s broadcaster announced a foul from his phone. Ben handed him his thick black credit card easily, and with the flimsy bag for the books in hand and credit card securely back in his wallet, the four left the dreary shelter without any complications. 
Unlike when Y/N left the clinic earlier in the evening, exiting the shelter and breathing in the nighttime air offered no relief to her current anxiety. Roy was busy ordering a cab for their ride back to their townhouse, carefully shifting the sleeping bunny hybrid on his hip. Ben was busy blathering on about what he should whip up for Daisy’s dinner, or if he should call in some takeout. Y/N tried to steady her breathing, checking her slim wristwatch for the time. It was only 9 PM, but it felt like midnight. She considered leaving her car in the spot seven blocks away in favor of jumping on the Red Line, but wasn’t thrilled about a ticket likely being tucked under her windshield wiper come morning. 
“Guys, I’m gonna get going. My car’s a little ways away, so I should start walking now,” Y/N piped up through Ben’s cooing at sleeping Daisy, both men turning to face her. 
“Do you want me to walk you to your car? I can order another cab for myself after,” Ben offered, ever protective and concerned for her walking alone at night. She shook her head lightly, reaching out to stroke the back of Daisy’s head. She was irresistible and her hair was impossibly soft, and Daisy leaned into the touch even in her sleep. 
“No, no, don’t worry about me. I have a taser and a knife. And my clogs are heavier than they look, for kicking some nuts. You guys should get home as soon as you can, settle her in,” Y/N said slowly, trying her best not to wake the child. Ben looked like he wanted to protest, but was cut off by the pulling up of the cab Roy ordered. Y/N pushed him towards the passenger side door, eager to spend some time thinking on the walk to her car. 
“I’ll call you in the morning to check in, and I’ll even come and stop by tomorrow if you want, and ask my dad to schedule a check-up for Daisy,” Y/N offered, opening the doors for both of them. Roy gave her a swift kiss on the cheek, mouthing a thank you sincerely, carefully maneuvering his way into the backseat. 
“Thank you, Y/N. Text me when you get home,” Ben hugged her once more, folding himself into the passenger seat and closing the door softly. Y/N waved as the cab drove away, waiting until it turned the corner before sparing another glance at the shelter behind her. Brushing a sticky piece of hair from her forehead, humidity pressing down on her, she set off down the street to her car. 
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It was close to four in the morning, and Y/N was putting away gin seltzers like it was her new job. Sweat rolled down the back of her neck, the air conditioning units she ordered not to be installed until Monday morning, as she bent on all fours scraping a hideous high-gloss varnish off of the landing on the grand staircase. Sleep evaded her after she arrived home from the shelter, even after a cooling shower and a bite to eat. Instead of tossing and turning in her bed, she decided to get thoroughly drunk, get a chunk of housework done, and pass out watching Ghost Adventures reruns on the couch in the parlor room. 
Wiping sweat from her brow, Y/N leaned back on her knees and let the grip and pull scraper clatter to the floor. She had a metal playlist on, numbing her thoughts, pulsing through her little wireless speaker as she worked. The Tiffany lighting fixtures in the foyer were dim and flickering– they’d have to be replaced soon— making her eyes strain in effort as she fumbled for her drink. Greedily, she gulped down the last few swigs of the botanical liquor from the condensation-coated glass, bobbing her head at the sound of Corey Taylor’s passionate vocals. Metal was one of her favorite genres, the heaviness and noise of it clearing out all intrusive thoughts; and it just sounded so damn good. Feeling too tipsy to continue scraping varnish, she assessed her work. She had gotten half of the staircase stripped, muttering curses about her grandfather’s foolish decision to defile beautiful oak planks with period-inappropriate glossy varnish the whole time she worked. 
Y/N, with the help of her mother and Roy, had made significant progress restoring the mansion for the past two years, but there was still much work to be done. The kitchen and the bedrooms were her first priority, especially when she thought she’d have roommates moving in. Roy had painstakingly gutted and designed a new kitchen for the home, one that would flow well with the old-world charm of the place but with modern comforts. Y/N had fond memories of tossing Budweisers back and forth to him last spring as they peeled lemon yellow wallpaper down from the crumbling 50’s style kitchen. 
The bedrooms weren’t too difficult to restore; some had water damaged ceilings, others had horrifying The Conjuring-esque wallpaper, and a couple were stuffed to the windows with old junk her grandmother collected at antique shops around New England. Grandmother’s antique collection was good for one thing— free furnishings for the home. Her mother even helped her crack open the basement door, leading to a pretty grim, unfinished and wasted space, totally transforming it into another whole bedroom and rec room for art projects or exercising. 
Y/N’s paycheck pretty much went entirely into the home, an amount set aside for food and essentials, but every penny she put into making the home beautiful again was worth it. The bedrooms were stately and comfortable, the kitchen spacious with marble floors and sleek appliances, and most of the unused items her grandmother had held onto that were broken or just plain ugly had been donated. She still had her work cut out for her with the rest of the home and the grounds, but all of the work she had accomplished had turned out beautifully. 
Wobbly, she stood, grasping the railing of the staircase gingerly (considering if she applied pressure, the whole thing might clatter to the floor), empty glass in her free hand and speaker tucked under an armpit. A Deftones song began to play, making her giggle in delight, descending the steps slowly to avoid scuffing her hours of work. It was a challenge, considering the low lighting. 
Traipsing through the hallway past the parlor and dining room, she reached the kitchen, lit up beautifully with brand-new stained glass fixtures. Roy’s work took her breath away every time she enjoyed a cup of coffee in the refurbished breakfast nook, and even tipsy she had to pause and admire the space. Setting the speaker down on the island, Y/N yanked the fridge open for more seltzer and gin, swaying her body to the gnashing guitar. She swore that this would be her last drink, collapsing heavily on a barstool at the island, mixing her drink sloppily and taking a hearty gulp. Cutting through the music, the grandfather clock in the hallway clanged noisily, scaring the wits out of her. Suddenly, she was aware how alone she was on a Friday night, drinking at four in the morning and tip-toeing around the house like there was a ghost about to pop out of the dining room.
Glancing around, she began to feel unease, noticing all of the space around her and how empty it truly was. It was a shame, really, that a large family wasn’t taking up the ample space, but she had always planned on either having one herself or substituting family for roommates. At times, when she was by herself in the home, she felt lonelier and more on edge than ever. It’s not that she was exactly afraid of ghosts, but it was an old home and she had watched many horror movies that involved a single woman in a creepy house.
Staring deeply into her glass, her mind went to the place she prayed it wouldn’t – to the seven hybrids left at the shelter. A sharp pang of sadness shot through her like a bolt of lightning, the glass loosening in her grip as she straightened up in her seat, music suddenly making her head pound uncomfortably. Slapping the off button on the speaker aggressively, she groaned loudly, the sound echoing throughout the hollow halls of the house. Fisting her hands through her hair, Y/N squeezed her eyes shut. 
Come morning, when she would peel herself out of bed and cradle an AlkaSeltzer to her chest in the bathtub, those seven hybrids would likely be loaded into some kind of horse trailer to their imminent doom. Chased, hunted, humiliated and killed, all for sick enjoyment. She felt booze crawl up her throat, foolishly washing it down with another sip of the same poison. Perhaps a few of them would get away, but perhaps not. And the ones who didn’t, maybe the injured jaguar or the malnourished leopard, what would become of them after their deaths? Would they be left in the woods, would they be stripped of their coats? Blood rushed to her face, heating up her entire body with the beginnings of a panic attack. 
“Fuck! What the hell is wrong with me?” Y/N exclaimed, standing suddenly. She began to pace around the kitchen, calming herself in the best way she could for her panic. The thought of the hybrids dying became unbearable, even if she hadn’t even seen the other three that were tucked in the corners of that dark back room. Practically tearing her hair out, she stared out the glass door to the backyard patio, full moon illuminating the foliage. Without thinking, she tossed on her light denim jacket she’d left hanging on an old hatstand, and hurried out into the backyard. 
Crickets chirped as she sucked a deep breath in of cool nighttime air, collapsing on one of the lounge chairs near the door. Counting her breaths as she focused on the hazy stars in the sky, gentle wind rustled the willows beyond the pavingstones of the patio. Familiarly, her fingers dove into the pocket of her jacket, finding the lighter and carton of menthols her cousin had smuggled to her from Rhode Island. It wasn’t a healthy habit, but Y/N had carried on the drunk distress cigarette tradition she had picked up with her friends in college whenever she felt the urge. It was a small rebellion. 
Flicking the lighter, cigarette balanced between her lips, she took a cathartic drag, closing her eyes as she exhaled. She felt a calming, minty sensation blanket her immediately, the sounds of nature refocusing her thoughts. Smoke curled and danced in the air, and she tried to make out shapes in the forms. Humming, she craned her neck backwards, taking in the imposing height of her house, and froze with the cigarette dangerously hanging from her mouth.
The mansion had 10 bedrooms. It had a small guesthouse that needed some work, a library room, numerous nooks and plenty of bathrooms. Vast grounds with trails, gardens, and water. A kitchen for a family on TLC reality show, multiple lounge rooms, two towers, even. Y/N had plenty of space, plenty of loneliness, and money.
An idea so crazy enough for her to flinch to a stand, knocking the cushion off of the lounge chair, struck her like a freight train. She could adopt all seven of the hybrids. Laughing, a sound that was akin to Gollum from the absurdity of the thought, she stuck the cigarette into the ancient outdoor ashtray. If she was a touch more sober and sane, she’d take a couple Benadryl and sleep her fantastical thoughts away. 
Marching out to the yard, she took a better look at the house in the moonlight. Only her bedroom, the kitchen, and the foyer she was working in less than a half hour ago was illuminated. Y/N imagined the whole house lit merrily, string lights on the patio twinkling with use and the picnic tables set for a beautiful summer cookout. The image in her mind almost tore a sob through her chest, because that was what the house was always for; for family and celebration of life. 
Ben had always teased Y/N for lacking the logical mind of someone who was a medical professional. Y/N had always chalked it up to her hippie mother and her fantastical side of the family, straight out of Practical Magic. If Ben was there at that moment, he probably would have forced her into the shower with her clothes on to sober up. 
Sober or not, Y/N figured that she would have dreamed up this solution in a cold-sweat that night in bed. As soon as she had the thought of having people to come home to, the house warm with life, her mind was made up. Besides, she couldn’t let them suffer so terribly at the hands of some hedge fund manager’s trigger happy son, it went against her very oath she swore to help creatures of any kind. Hurriedly, she made her way back into the house, switching on her coffee maker, and made a beeline for her bathroom to freshen up.
Y/N was still chuckling to herself, bumbling down the hallway to the master bedroom in a gleeful manner. She’d already come up with a plan to undermine the Manhattan man’s plans to take the hybrids away, and it was so delicious, she could hardly believe she came up with it four gin seltzers in. 
Her bathroom was still outfitted with fixtures from her grandparent’s heyday, the bathtub, toilet, and sink all an off-putting swamp green, but even that couldn’t dampen her spirits. Scrubbing her teeth violently, she used her other hand to shimmy out of her “restoration sweatpants”, nearly toppling over in the effort. After splashing cold water on her face and spritzing some body spray from her head to toe, Y/N raced into her bedroom, rummaging through her dresser for a pair of linen pants and a clean tee shirt, throwing everything on and checking the time on her illuminated alarm clock. It was now almost five, and she would need to leave as quickly as possible to get to the shelter as soon as it opened. 
She guessed that dealing in cash would be more tempting to the greedy shopkeeper, and she was prepared to hand over a significant sum. Her grandfather kept a three-foot tall safe in the master closet for his coin collection, and it was there that Y/N kept cash for everything from buying period appropriate curtains at some Jamaica Plain estate sale to unlikely hostage situations. Turning the lock combo with urgency, she cracked the safe open, grabbing a stack of bills from the top shelf, and slammed it shut. She tucked the band of bills into her tote bag, dangling from the post of her bed, and left the bedroom swiftly. 
Returning to the kitchen, Y/N filled the largest to-go coffee cup she had with the piping hot coffee she had brewed, burning her throat by finishing what was left in the carafe. Thankfully, the drinks she had consumed were spaced out enough so she wasn’t drunk, just tipsy, something she could get rid of quickly with the coffee and adrenaline she had running through her veins. Besides, she had about two hours to completely sober up and find her way to the shelter. She pulled up the app to order a cab to the shelter, not irresponsible enough to drive in her condition, and turned off all the lights in the kitchen on her way out. 
Stepping out the front door, Y/N locked the heavy deadbolt and ran down the steps of the porch, latching the gate at the front of the property when she reached it. The sky was still dark, but a little greyer with the slowly rising sun, and the mansion looked dreary and deserted. Smiling wistfully, she supposed this would be the last time she would see it look so sad. 
Y/N waited on the curb for her cab, sucking down scalding coffee with her tote bag on her lap. She felt like she was carrying a Fabergé egg, the stack of $100’s laying heavily in her lap through the canvas bag. A little voice in her head told her she was absolutely nuts for what she was about to go through with, but she ignored it entirely. 
What she had wanted all along was to have some kinship; especially with her friend’s lives going off in different directions. She knew that Ben and Roy would always be with her, but with the adoption of Daisy, they would have their hands full settling her in and raising her as a family. Laura was busy with her own young family, and Alice had her cat and full-time job at the newspaper. Everyone seemed to have something they could go home to, and Y/N wanted that, too. Additionally, without her job, she had ample time to care for the hybrids, to fill the hours with friendship rather than longing. She was not oblivious to the challenges that would come with the adoptions, considering the shopkeeper had mentioned the hybrids weren’t exactly friendly, but Y/N was prepared to handle all of the hiccups in order to give them a safe home. 
The cab she ordered rolled down her sleepy street, headlights cutting through the oppressive humidity. Jumping up from her perch on the curb, she jogged to the passenger’s side and crawled into the car. Buckling in as the young man pulled away from the end of her driveway, she took another swig of her coffee and felt the remaining alcohol haze slip from her body like a spirit. Y/N’s heart was racing, the whirlwind of events and lack of sleep making her feel like a floating head. Even so, she knew that her mind was made up, despite the fact that she hadn’t even met the hybrids yet. Thankfully, the young man driving her to the shelter only exchanged a “good morning” with her before following his navigation into the city, leaving her to eagerly go over her “plan”.
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The cab dropped Y/N off right in front of the shelter, which was to open any moment. She bounced on her heels, scanning the sidewalks for anyone dressed in a suit or hunting gear waiting nearby. The shopkeeper hadn’t mentioned what time exactly the Manhattan man was to pick up the hybrids, however, Y/N wanted to beat him to the punch as soon as the shop opened. Sneaking a peek into the window, she noticed the same man from the night before counting the register serenely. Before she could stop herself, she began to knock on the glass, making the man jump a foot into the air in surprise. Registering Y/N’s face with great surprise (and annoyance), he ambled to the door and turned the lock. 
“Now, why’re you here? Tell your buddies I don’t do refunds,” he threatened, looking Y/N up and down. She imagined her appearance, purplish dark circles from her all-nighter, holey Black Sabbath tee, and hair wild with frizz. Likely, she looked like an undergrad student the night before a final exam. Y/N pulled the door open determinedly. 
“I want to adopt those hybrids in that back room,” Y/N blurted out, the shopkeeper’s mouth hanging open in shock. 
“What? Lady, are you insane?” The man sputtered, hobbling after Y/N as she marched to the door leading to the back. 
“All seven of them. I’m prepared to adopt them all, now,” Y/N confirmed, arms crossed as she waited for him to unlock the back door. The man looked angered, hands on hips. 
“So, you are nuts. Didn’ I tell you I got that guy from Manhattan picking them up today? He’ll be here in an hour or so,” The man made no motion to open the door, leaning against the register and wiping limp gray hair from his eyes. 
Frustrated that she was not being taken seriously, Y/N reached into her bag, slamming the band of bills on the counter. The shopkeeper swore colorfully, flinching away from the large stack before grasping for it. 
“That’s $70,000, count it. I’d like to adopt those hybrids. All of them,” Y/N enunciated. Her plan had unfolded; making a counter offer to the Manhattan man, way too tempting to refuse. 
“Holy shit. I don’t care if you’re crazy, lady, you’ve got ‘em,” the man wheezed, already leafing through the stack of money greedily. “Never liked pricks from New York anyways,” he mumbled, a greasy smile spreading across his face. 
Tucking the bills in his back pocket, Y/N stepped aside impatiently as he unlocked the back door and led her to the slim hallway. The room was unchanged from just a few hours ago, the scent of Clorox even stronger. She was relieved that the shopkeeper had taken the money – there was no backing out now, and there was no chance of the hybrids being shipped away to their doom. 
“So, how do you wanna do this?” The shopkeeper asked, the two of them standing before the metal door to the hybrids. Freezing, Y/N stood still like a statue; she hadn’t thought that far. How would she get the hybrids home without a bus of some kind? What if they didn’t want to come with her, or didn’t like her? She didn’t even know their names, ages, or gender. Feeling a little silly, she hoped that her generous payment for the hybrids would butter up the shopkeeper enough to help her out with logistics.
Normally, people prepare for an adoption of a hybrid; including reading up on their habits and behaviors, buying a suitable wardrobe, and making sure the pantry is filled with foods for them to enjoy. Y/N had gone off half-cocked, and all she could offer the hybrids was shelter and their pick of a bedroom, for now. Their personalities might clash, they might reject her completely, and it would be hard for the hybrids to trust her right off the cuff. Not to mention, the hybrids were completely shifted to their animal form, and it was unlikely they even had a single set of clothes with them. Unlike Daisy, Y/N didn’t think they’d have books or pretty sandals that they’d be ready to walk out the door with. The thought formed a pit in her stomach, but she couldn’t be too upset with herself. The opportunity came as quickly as a summer storm, and she would not have been able to prepare for seven whole individuals in seven days — let alone in 12 hours.
“I suppose I should meet them first,” Y/N offered, wringing her hands. The light was off in the room, so she wasn’t able to see through the window on the door. “As for transportation, I’m not quite sure…” she trailed off, trying her best to look in need of assistance.
“You’ll probably have to make a couple of trips. Some of ‘em don’t get along, so start with the ones that don’t gnash their teeth at you. I got a buddy with a van I can give a call,” perfectly pleasant now, the man even gave her a toothy smile, using his comically large key ring to unlatch the deadbolt of the door. “My name’s Gerry, by the way.”
Putting a hand up to stop Gerry for a moment, she looked at him sternly. 
“Why is the jaguar injured?” She demanded, giving his bandaged wound a pointed look. Gerry followed her gaze, scoffing. 
“That wasn’t me, swear. Damaged goods aren’t good for business. He was dumped ‘ere that way,” Gerry replied, pushing on the door. Y/N was appalled, about to ask for more information, but Gerry had already begun to push the door open.
 The door gave a deafening groan, which was followed by a series of feline hisses and deep grunts of an animal Y/N couldn’t place. Squaring her shoulders, Y/N followed Gerry into the room, his fingers fumbling for the lightswitch and flooding the room with fluorescence. Her eyes adjusted for a split second, blinking rapidly as they darted around the room.
The hybrids were still shifted. She caught sight of the jaguar, first, side still injured and lying in the same position he was when Y/N spotted him the night before. The coyote was curled up on its cot, blearily eyeing her and the shopkeeper, and the underweight leopard in the cell next to it was sitting closely to the bars separating them all, staring right at Y/N. 
Standing a bit taller, she turned to get a look at the left hand corner cell she couldn’t see, trying not to look intimidated by the sight of a very large elk. The elk grunted loudly with the eye contact they made, the sound she could not place moments ago identified. Nodding thoughtfully, Y/N swallowed, stepping closer to the right side of the room, where she curiously sought out the remaining three hybrids – the two unidentified, and the wolf.
Her eyes registered the vibrant orange coat of a red fox, head inquisitively cocked at the sudden intrusion of the room. It jumped down from its cot, sticking its twitching nose through the metal bars. She had always loved foxes, and practically squealed upon seeing the perceived friendly action. Gerry backed up slightly, once blocking the furthermost cell on the right, pale in the face. 
“That one… you might need a bus, if he doesn’t shift,” he said weakly, inching towards the hallway. Y/N tore her eyes away from the fox to see what he was referring to, and gasped softly. 
“Oh!” She exclaimed, coming face-to-face with the largest bear she had ever seen in person. He must have been at least 10 feet tall if he was standing on his hind legs, and would make even the most experienced animal caretaker wary. Recovering quickly, she wondered what kind of bear he was, far too big to be a grizzly, and was embarrassed that she didn’t know right away. 
“So, they’re all yours. I’ll get them papers ready and call Murphy about the van. We’ll work out who’s going with you and when I come back with the goods. Clipboard with information is on the wall next to the bear,” the Gerry called, already inching out to the hallway. He looked anxious to get the hell out of dodge, to the recesses of the office. Stunned, she watched him leave, various sounds of confused animals making her feel overwhelmed all at once. Y/N closed her eyes briefly, composing herself as best she could, before turning to the center of the room. Feeling eyes boring into her skull, she looked for the source, but somehow knew who it was already. 
The wolf, standing in a defensive position, eyed Y/N with an intensity that made her feel like her skin would melt off. It made her want to shiver, but she knew that she had to maintain a cool head in order to establish a trusting relationship with the hybrids. Not exactly sure what to do, especially because all of the hybrids were shifted, she cleared her throat, wincing at the sound cutting through the room. 
“Uh, hello. I’m Y/N,” she began, her voice a tad scratchy from her hot coffee earlier. “This is probably pretty strange to you all, considering we haven’t met before. I was here last night? My friends adopted a child here, and I happened to take a peek through the window.”
Scanning the room, most of the animals were watching her carefully. The jaguar was still on his side, but his ear was flickering, so she knew that he was listening. She continued, slowly reaching for the clipboard as if not to startle the bear that was crammed into his tiny cell. 
Not noticing before, Y/N realized there was a little bathroom by the elk’s cell; she thought that the hybrids could shift and change before they left together. It would be much easier to get back to the house if they were in their human forms, as well as more comfortable, considering the size of each hybrid. They weren’t house cat hybrids– most of them were apex predators. 
“Well, Gerry told me last night that there was a man coming in from Manhattan to adopt you all,” pausing when she heard a loud rumble coming from the bear. She figured the hybrids were clued in with their fate, acute hearing most likely picking up most happenings at the shelter. “And I guess I just… Well, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. All night. One thing led to another and I found myself coming back here, so I want to apologize for lack of preparation on my part,” Y/N scratched the back of her head sheepishly, realizing she was rambling. Deciding to cut to the chase, she bit the bullet.
“I… I’m adopting you, all of you. Instead of the Manhattan man,” she announced, clutching the clipboard to her chest. A symphony of growls and noises of surprise filled the room, however, Y/N was not to be discouraged. The deed was done. 
“I just left my job last night. I was an exotics veterinarian, I worked on the other side of Boston. My home has plenty of space, so I have been looking for others to live with anyway. And, I know you don’t have any reason to trust me yet, but I promise I just want to give you all a home to be comfortable in,” Y/N summed up her best elevator pitch of herself and her plans.
The coyote had jumped down from its cot, getting closer to Y/N as it could behind the bars, its yellow eyes assessing her very closely. She heard low growls coming from the wolf. Perhaps it would take a few days of convincing to get him in particular to the manor. Her first priority was hopefully bringing the jaguar with her at the very least, so she could treat his injuries and prevent further harm and infection.
It came as no surprise that the hybrids were wary of her, considering the place they had landed in. There was no way for her to tell what kinds of tribulations they had all gone through. Every day, there were articles about some of the disgusting things that happened to stray hybrids; they were forced into unpaid labor, adopted by sexually abusive owners, bought to be hunted. Just as she had no knowledge of them, they had little to go off of her own character by the state of the world.
There was a folding chair against the wall near the door, so Y/N dragged it to the center of the room slowly, the sensation of being inspected from all angles making heat rise to her cheeks. Lowering herself onto the chair, she smoothed down the first page of the clipboard. 
“Okay…” she mumbled to herself, scanning the page. The sheet had pertinent data relating to species, heights, measurements and weights of both animal and human forms, as well as age, gender, and name. The first sheet was the leopard’s. 
“I want to get you all out of this place as quickly as I can, but I’ll keep coming back until you’re comfortable enough to leave with me… so, you’re Yoongi? 28, male,” Y/N tilted her head towards him, what sounded like a rumble of acknowledgement came from the hybrid. She flipped through the other 6 pages slowly. So they’re all male, Y/N thought, understanding why some of them didn’t get along. Finding the page she was looking for, the jaguar named Seokjin, she studied his stats. Y/N wasn’t leaving the shelter that morning without him. 
“Seokjin,” Y/N murmured, memorizing his measurements so she could buy at least one set of the decrepit clothes up front for him to change into when he shifted. Eyes flickering upwards, she noticed Seokjin had turned his head at the sound of his name, still laying on his side but finally looking at her. He was beautiful, but had an expression of sadness about him. 
“So, I was thinking, since you’re injured, it’s probably best if you come with me today. I can treat your injury, I have all of the supplies at home to mend that wound in a flash,” Y/N speculated, maintaining eye contact with Seokjin. The hybrid wheezed, which was better than growling at her, so she took it as either resignation or feeble consent. Maybe it was resignation, or the hybrid was in so much pain he couldn’t bear it any longer. 
“Hmm… so, I get the feeling that a few of you will need some time before you come with me, but I’d love to take a couple more of you with me today, yeah? Don’t worry – I’m signing the adoption papers for everyone today, so nobody else will come and take you God knows where. Anyone willing to take the leap and get out of here?” 
Y/N was met with silence, which made her want to crawl into a hole. Not ready to give up yet, she stood, making a slow circle around the room. She avoided the wolf, who was still regarding her with hostility, as well as the bear and elk that backed away from her as soon as she approached. She would not try to engage with the hybrids that wanted nothing to do with her yet, it would be counterproductive in earning their trust. Yoongi had slunk back to his cot as she passed by his space, disinterested. Y/N bit back a chuckle, sensing he would be a bit of a character when she got to know him. Not today, then. 
Circling back to the fox, who was still poking his face through the bars, Y/N grinned. 
“You don’t seem to hate me, huh?” Y/N wondered aloud, consulting the clipboard for his name. “Hoseok! How ‘bout it?” 
The fox blinked, pawing the ground. She registered the reaction as a green light to consider him one of the ones leaving with her today, making her feel utterly elated. 
“Alright! Any other takers for today?” Y/N inquired, starting to feel mirthful. A pitiful whine came from across the room from the coyote. She remembered his name from the sheet already, he was Jimin. 
“Jimin, right?” Y/N crossed the room at a glacial pace, smiling at the quivering hybrid so as not to frighten him further. He looked like he’d rather travel to Mordor than spend one more second in that shelter, so she made a mental note to bring him along that day as well. “Well, three out of seven for today is more than I was expecting, so that makes me happy,” Y/N breathed, a smile stretching across her face. Jimin’s ear fluttered, sitting shakily on his haunches in expectation. 
“Alrighty, I’ve got all of the certificates, ‘ere. Just need your signatures. Murphy’s on his way,” Gerry bustled into the room, holding a stack of paper and a fountain pen. Again, he made sure he stayed far from the cells, not sparing a single glance to the hybrids. Y/N felt acute dislike for the man, but needed to remain cordial so he would allow her to return for a couple days for the others. 
Walking away from Jimin, Y/N reached for the papers, adding them to the clipboard. Gerry watched her with mild interest as she sorted through the certificates, uncapping the pen. Aware of the hybrid’s stares more than ever, she signed her name carefully seven times, officially sealing the deal. The hybrids were safe, and she could breathe a little easier.
“I’d like to get some clothes from up front for them, for the ride back,” Y/N handed the pen back to Gerry, tucking the clipboard close to her side. Gerry nodded, scuttling out of the room, beckoning to follow. 
“I’ll be right back!” Y/N assured the seven pairs of eyes on her. 
Back at the front of the shop, she studied the measurements of the men, deciding to just pick up a set for all of them. She would take them all shopping for things of their own style when they settled in later that week, the thought of enjoying a day at the outdoor mall with seven new companions filling her with anticipation. 
The clothes were just as plain and dated as they were the previous night, and there was not much to pick from, but thankfully all of the sizes she needed were available. She selected various tee shirts in colors of cream, gray, and olive, as well as seven pairs of thin black sweatpants. Adding a pack of socks and underwear to her armful of apparel, she hummed, lamenting the quality. In little cubbies, there were even shoes that she could buy, so she had Gerry haul seven pairs to the front of the store. 
“Murphy’ll be here in ten minutes. He’s over in Chinatown. How many you takin’ today?” Gerry asked her, hanging up the phone he had been shouting on while Y/N was choosing clothes. 
“Three. I’ll be back tomorrow for the others. I might have to impose on Monday, as well,” Y/N explained, heading back to the hybrids. Gerry waved in acknowledgement, whistling and loading the boxes of shoes on a dolly to cart behind her.
Reentering the room with the stack of clothes, Y/N grunted as she piled everything on the folding chair. Seokjin had managed to roll over, head weakly lifted as he watched Y/N rip the pack of socks and underwear open. She squealed as the socks burst out of the plastic bag, catching her off guard, quickly apologizing as a startled growl came from the wolf on her right. He was definitely going to be a tough nut to crack. 
Divvying up the clothes according to who they were for, she neatly folded them into piles as quickly as she could, depositing each pile in front of the hybrid they were intended for, easily accessible through the wide iron bars. Gerry had wheeled the shoes to the mouth of the room, his key to the cell doors on the top box as per her request, but went no further inside the room himself. Y/N could still hear him whistling at the front of the store, to the tune of Money, Money, Money by ABBA. Muttering about his inconsideracy, Y/N placed the shoeboxes in front of their new owners as well. 
“So! I’m sorry you weren’t able to pick these yourselves, but we can go out next week or whenever you’d like to pick out clothes that are your taste. We could even order some clothes online if you’d prefer,” Y/N apologized, arms coming out to hug her midsection. She was starting to feel the fatigue of staying up for longer than 24 hours, and was running purely off of fumes at this point. 
“Seokjin, Hoseok, and Jimin, the ride home should be here any minute. I’ll wait for you up front, and let you change,” Y/N urged gently, sensing the eagerness to leave in both Jimin and Hoseok. She felt the need to say more to the other hybrids, a bit crushed that she’d have to leave them for some time.
“The rest of you guys, I’ll be back first thing in the morning like today. I’d love it if you’d all come with me tomorrow, but we’ll talk about it then,” she turned to the elk, Jeongguk, the clipboard informed her, and admired his beautiful antlers with a wistful smile. Keys in hand, she slowly approached Jimin’s cell, unlocking the door but keeping it closed, before doing the same to Hoseok’s and Seokjin’s. A large part of her wanted to unlock all of the doors, but she didn’t want to risk an altercation between the remaining hybrids when she left for home.
With that, she gave a little wave, and retreated back to the storefront. Her heart began to race, wondering what the hybrids looked like when they shifted, how their voices sounded, and what their personalities were like. She couldn’t wait to actually hold a two-sided conversation with them, feeling like she was talking to herself for the past half hour, and paced back and forth in front of the window as she waited for Murphy’s van to pull up. 
Tempted to add some guidebooks to her list of purchases, Y/N thought the better of it as she noticed the outdated materials. Her mother would be able to find what she was looking for at the library, that is, when Y/N told her about the hybrids. Blood draining from her face, she realized that nobody in her life even knew what she had just done. Grinding her teeth, a part of her basked in the feeling of having a secret just to herself, for now, even if it wouldn’t be for long. She wouldn’t even be able to put Ben off come evening. 
Deciding to cross that bridge when she got to it, she jumped a foot in the air as a car noisily honked outside. Checking the window, a rusted mint green VW Microbus was double parked in front of the shelter. A sandy haired older gentleman was waving at her, mouthing her name and pointing to the backseat. Frantically, she ran out the door, approaching the vehicle. 
“You’re Y/N?” The man confirmed, scanning her face expectantly.
“Yes, sir. Thank you for coming out like this,” Y/N leaned into the passenger window. “I’ve written my address down for the GPS, I’ll come back out with the others,” handing him a scrap of paper that came from the sock package, she tripped her way back into the building, bewildered. She almost fell over as she collided with another body, hands reaching out to steady her by her biceps. 
“Whoa, there,” an unfamiliar voice exclaimed, immediately releasing her upon her recovery of footing. Looking up, Y/N felt her cheeks flame as she registered the man’s face. 
The first thing she noticed were a pair of clever mocha colored eyes, widened in surprise. Second, of course, where the red fox ears were crowning glossy strands of mahogany hair, ears turned back flat against his head. His golden skin contrasted unfairly well with the olive tee shirt he had donned, and all at once Y/N felt overwhelmed and embarrassed. 
“Hoseok?” She breathed, face on fire. Of course he had to be good looking. Backing up a foot, resisting the urge to fan herself, she watched as a cheeky grin appeared on Hoseok’s face. Starting to say something, he was swiftly cut off by the sound of a dragging foot behind him, stepping to the side in alarm. Trying to shake off her astoundment, she pulled her eyebrows together, peering around Hoseok’s frame for the source of the sound. 
The two other hybrids inched towards the front door, the taller’s arm slung around the other’s shoulders for support. Gasping, Y/N moved forward to help, noticing blood seeping through the cream colored shirt Seokjin had put on. 
“Oh, Jesus, can I please help you out?” Y/N hesitated reaching out, not wanting to touch someone without permission. Seokjin’s head of wavy raven hair was bobbing, skin an ashen color, and she forgot all about her previous state of fluster. It must have taken a lot of effort for him to shift and change, his energy waned to nothing.
“I don’t think he can hear you, entirely, Miss,” a rugged voice piped up: Jimin. Balking at the title, Y/N glanced at him with concern. Overgrown blonde hair covered his eyes, a concentrated grimace across his lips. “Don’t worry, I’ve got him,” Jimin assured her, his hand firmly gripping Seokjin’s wrist over his shoulder. 
“O-Okay–” 
“I’ll help you get him in the back, let’s go,” Hoseok cut her off urgently. Leaping out of the way, Y/N suddenly felt out of place as she watched Jimin drag Seokjin out of the shelter, Hoseok jogging out first and pulling the van door open. She didn’t miss the way Jimin tipped his head back, filling his lungs with fresh morning air, and Hoseok’s stiffened posture loosening up the moment his feet touched the sidewalk outside of the shelter.
“Gerry, I’ll be back in the morning. First thing!” Y/N yelled into the recesses of the shop, not caring if he replied or not. 
Out on the sidewalk, she bit at her nails nervously as she watched Jimin shift to get a good hold on Seokjin’s shoulders, Hoseok grasping his ankles and hoisting him up. Seokjin groaned loudly, head rolling back, his sweaty face screwed up in pain. Y/N felt her heart break, the same way it did whenever she saw agony written all over someone’s face, and vowed to find whoever did this to him and slap them with Ben’s most aggressive lawsuit, or maybe claw their eyes out. 
Hoseok bared his teeth as he hauled Seokjin’s lower body into the van gingerly. Waiting for Jimin to lift the rest of him into the van, Hoseok sat in the back seat with Seokjin’s legs dangling over his lap. Jimin had to maneuver Seokjin’s chest and head so it was propped up on his thighs, all three of them cramped in the back, breathing laboriously. 
“Aw, hell, is that blood?” Murphy exclaimed, twisting his body to eye Seokjin’s bloodied shirt. 
“I’ll pay for any damages, can you just take the fastest route?” Y/N shot back as she slammed the passenger door, buckling up. Murphy sputtered, looking at her like she had two heads, but obeyed by throwing the van in drive and shoving AirPods in his ears. Adjusting herself so she could face the backseat, she scanned Seokjin’s face, his eyes closed and breathing shallow. His face was positively angelic, however, marred by the shadow of pain, and he was definitely feverish judging by the sweat dripping from his hairline.   
“So… where do you live?” Hoseok asked, his cadence a bit awkward as he tried to sit as close to the edge of the seat as possible. Y/N cleared her throat, tearing her attention from Seokjin’s face, returning Hoseok’s gaze. 
“Outside of the city, in a wooded area by a lake. I live in my grandparent’s old house,” Y/N answered, squeezing her fists as she prayed Murphy’s driving was as fast as her’s. Hoseok half-smiled thoughtfully, looking out the window curiously as buildings rolled by. Sunlight caught gold flecks in his irises and the rich red of his hair. 
As conversation halted there, Y/N started to plan out the mid-morning: she would have to roll out her grandfather’s old wheelchair for Seokjin, find the best place to treat him, show the other two around the house, and hopefully sneak in a nap somewhere along the way. Later that night, she wanted to order a few more sets of basic clothing for the hybrids until they could make it to the stores – after all, she didn’t know when the wolf hybrid would want to even be in the same room as her. She’d probably have to order some groceries, as well, there weren’t enough items in her fridge and pantry to feed everybody. Pulling out her phone, she kept track of all of the loose ends to tie up that night, ignoring missed texts from Ben crowding her lockscreen. She’d have to call him later, as well, and she wasn’t looking forward to it, luckily he was probably preoccupied with Daisy. 
“Miss? You said you’re a veterinarian?” Jimin piped up after a stretch of time, brushing his hair off of his face. His eyes were a shocking shade of yellow, round and clear as a spring morning. Swallowing hard, Y/N nodded.
“I am. I worked with exotic animals, like parrots, lizards… I even treated a giraffe at one point. Though, hybrids, I have not treated before…” Y/N trailed off, unnerved by Jimin’s intense eye contact. He seemed significantly less jittery now that he was shifted into his human form, which was relieving. “But, I know that I’ll be able to help Seokjin, for sure– and my father can come by, as well. He specializes in hybrid cardiology.”
Jimin’s sandy colored ears pricked up in interest, with this, his shoulders relaxing an inch. Interestingly, the three hybrids had no animosity between them, seemingly, as Seokjin was passed out, and Y/N wondered which ones didn’t like each other. She wondered if Laura, the master of conflict resolution in her friend group, could swing by in the future and give her some tips. 
“Hybrid cardiology?” Hoseok repeated, an eyebrow raised. Nodding enthusiastically, Y/N cringed as Murphy took a sharp turn off of the highway towards her town. 
“He went to school for cardiology, because my grandfather on his side passed away from congestive heart failure quite young. He eventually became part of a group study that practiced surgical procedures for hybrids when my mother was pregnant with me, for some additional experience. My mother told me that he enjoyed working with hybrids so much, and that the field had so much improvement to make, my father focused his studies on hybrid cardiology from then on. Up until a year ago he had a practice in Boston, now he’s semi-retired— he can still access his office and do examinations,” Y/N explained. Her father had helped trailblaze heart surgical procedures for hybrids, and would love the news of Y/N’s spur-of-the-moment adoptions. Another phone call to add to the list.  
Hoseok and Jimin listened to her carefully, and while she was grateful they seemed to express at least a little interest in her life, she was absolutely dying to know more about them. Sadly, she knew that it would take a lot of time to get close enough to ask personal questions, and knew better than to pry right off the bat. While they didn’t say more than a few words compared to her ramblings, it felt nice to have someone listen.  
“I’ll have to go back to the shelter tomorrow to pick up the others, as I’m sure you heard, but you’re welcome to come with me into the city again then! Maybe we can stop at a drugstore on the way back so we can pick up toiletries and snacks,” Y/N offered hopefully. Jimin opened his mouth and closed it, eyes flicking downward as if he was conflicted. She began to backtrack when she remembered how anxious he seemed at the shelter, internally scolding herself.
“Sure, I’ll come with you,” Hoseok replied quickly, flashing a lovely smile. Overjoyed, Y/N returned the grin, admiring just how pretty his smile was – after all, it was the first time she saw it in its entirety. 
“Jimin,” Y/N continued, not wanting to put him in a tight spot, “If you’d like, you can write me a list and I can pick up whatever you need. It’s a good idea to have someone stay with Seokjin while he comes down from his fever, and you can settle in.”
Biting down on his thick lower lip, Jimin looked both alleviated and a touch guilty, a peach blush dusting his cheeks. 
“If that’s alright, Miss, I’ll watch over Seokjin for you,” Jimin answered, hand reaching up to tug at something on his head that wasn’t there, as if he had an imaginary hat on. The action was odd, Jimin slightly frowning as he realized his fingers grasped air. Pretending not to notice, Y/N turned the right way in her seat as the familiar library building passed by, her mother’s car parked out front; they were almost home. 
“Oh! We’ll be there soon!” Y/N exclaimed, bouncing in her seat. She stole a glance at Seokjin, who was fast asleep, oblivious to the chatter between the rest of them. Hoseok was locked in on the scenery of the town, small shops she grew up around zooming by, beautiful August flowers studding the storefronts. The fall festivals would be coming up in less than a month, and bringing the hybrids to the events would be a blast. Thinking of the hayrides, harvest stands, and apple picking filled her mind, now that she finally had time to attend the festivals. 
Murphy pulled out an earbud, snapping gum between his teeth. 
“Next street over?” He yelled, earning a gravelly moan from Seokjin. Y/N had the feeling Murphy was a bit hard of hearing. 
“Yes, yes,” Y/N waved, directing him where to park. She’d have to unlatch the gate and blast into the house for the wheelchair.
Murphy crawled to the end of the street, Y/N tapped her foot, watching her neighbor’s old Victorians pass by. The hybrids in the back seat were quiet, the only sound in the van coming from the GPS. Finally pulling up in front of Y/N’s house, the last one on the dead end street, she breathed a sigh of relief, unfastening her seatbelt. 
“This is it!” Y/N announced nervously. She hoped that they would like the house, that it wouldn’t be too old and scary looking to them. If the hybrids held any opinions on the exterior, they kept them to themselves, ears alert as they both leaned towards the window to take a look. Admittedly, the view of the house was pretty obstructed by the large willows planted in the front yard, but the shapes of the roof peaked over enough to get a glimpse. Debriefing Hoseok and Jimin on her plan to retrieve the wheelchair, she had them wait in the van while she ran into the house.
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Jimin and Hoseok maneuvered Seokjin as gently as they could into the leather wheelchair. Murphy honked his way down the street as he left, and thankfully none of Seokjin’s blood seeped into the seats of the van. Y/N insisted on pushing the wheelchair despite Jimin’s protests, Seokjin still fever dreaming and mumbling incoherently. She had to take the hybrids in the side door where the wooden ramp fashioned for her grandfather’s wheelchair led into the kitchen. 
“This place is huge,” Hoseok observed, getting a better look at the building once in the backyard. Looking back at the two hybrids trailing behind her, Y/N noticed Hoseok’s mouth hanging ajar, eyes roaming over the windows and steep eaves of the roof. The house was pretty imposing, painted dark shades of maroon and gray, but it was light and airy inside, something she knew the hybrids would love. 
“Yeah, it is. I used to get lost in some of the nooks and back staircases when I was really little, my dad got me Barbie walkie talkies for Christmas one year when it became a frequent problem,” Y/N chuckled at the memory. “Back when it was new, a wealthy local judge had it built for his wife. They had six children, so it has more bedrooms and living spaces than the average Victorian.” 
She eased the wheelchair over a bump in the pavingstones, finally back to the patio where she had only been hours ago. It was almost impossible to believe where she was now compared to just a short time ago.
“Looks like you’ve got some real nice grounds in the back here, Miss,” Jimin added, bright eyes sparkling as he took in the fauna in the backyard. Y/N froze as she attempted to unlock the kitchen door, casting Jimin an embarrassed look. 
“Thank you, Jimin, we can walk around the trails tonight if you’d like – and I can show you my poor landscaping skills! And please, you can just call me Y/N,” she insisted, smoothly yanking the sliding door open. She heard him sputtering, along with a snort from Hoseok. 
“We made it! Okay, so I’ll give you guys a proper tour after I treat Seokjin, but this is the kitchen,” Y/N gestured about the room, the mid-morning light warming the room pleasantly. Thankfully, she had cleared away her gin glass from last night before she left that morning, so the kitchen was absolutely spotless and ready for dinner. Hoseok whistled lowly, skimming a palm along the granite island. With the restaurant-sized refrigerator, multiple ovens, beautiful cooktop and walk-in pantry, Y/N was more excited than ever to reignite her passion for cooking and baking now that she had others to share food with. 
Pressing on, Y/N wheeled Seokjin towards the hallway, opting to put him in the nearest bedroom to her’s until he was well enough to pick one for himself.
“Either of you like to cook?” Y/N wondered aloud, slow footsteps behind her flooding out into the hallway. Cringing as soon as the words left her mouth, she realized that the possibility of them having access to a kitchen could be slim. Stupid! 
“The only thing I can make is a hamburger,” Hoseok said mournfully. So far, he had taken her completely by surprise, and her anxieties were quelled. Y/N laughed heartily at this response, looking forward to teaching him and the others how to make a few other staples in the future instead of lamenting over their pasts she didn’t even know about yet. Jimin even allowed a small chuckle to escape, with this, the mood light despite the circumstances. 
Passing through the foyer, by the dining room and parlor, they arrived at the bedroom, which was once where Y/N stayed before her grandparents moved out. It still had her large bookcase filled with all of her favorite books and encyclopedias, a small geode collection lining the desk, and her old wardrobe filled with clothes from her teenage years. When Seokjin got better, she’d have to clear out space on the bookshelf and the wardrobe. Acting with urgency once more, she pushed the wheelchair into the sunny sage green room.
“Let’s get him onto the bed,” Y/N switched into vet-mode, pulling the comforter on the bed back and easing Seokjin’s sneakers off. Hoseok and Jimin pulled Seokjin up by his armpits, heaving him onto the queen-sized mattress, moans of protest coming from the jaguar hybrid. The two stepped back as Y/N rounded the bed frame, getting a good look at Seokjin’s face. 
His fever had spiked, hairline completely soaked, skin pale and blotchy pink. Breathing shallowly, Seokjin’s eyebrows were scrunched together in pain. Bending over to grasp for the medical kit Y/N placed there earlier, she placed it on the bed, sorting through the items she’d need right away. She pushed damp hair off of his forehead, using the back of her hand to check his temperature, cursing at the ovenlike body heat coming off of him. 
“Jimin, do you mind wetting a cloth or two with cool water for me in the bathroom just there please? There should be some face cloths in a basket on the sink,” Y/N asked, pointing to the ajar door to the un suite. 
“O-of course,” Jimin stuttered, hastily crossing the room and disappearing into the bathroom. Y/N took Seokjin’s pulse at the base of his throat, which was thankfully thrumming strong against her fingers. Taking a deep breath, she carefully lifted the hem of his soiled shirt to reveal the wound on his right side. 
A series of healed scars littered the hybrid’s body, standing out against his damp skin. He was bruised in several places along his torso, shades of purple and green mottling around the site of the open wound. It looked like he had taken a few years of beatings or had fallen off of a ladder judging from the damage. Gritting her teeth, she examined the cut, which was miraculously uninfected, but still dribbling blood. The wound was not a puncture, but wide enough to not be able to mesh together without treatment, likely the reason it was still bleeding. Her fingers gently grazed the bruise by the site, Seokjin flinching even in his stupor. The wound was not deep enough to require stitches, but it was gnarly enough for butterfly bandages and gauze. She would have to periodically change his dressings, making sure an infection wouldn’t set in, but there was a lot less she had to do than she originally thought. 
“Here you go, Y/N,” Jimin returned, making the effort to drop the earlier “Miss” title, three cloths wrung out and rolled up in his outstretched hand. In the other, he had even filled the glass for the toothbrushes with more water. Looking up to him with a grateful smile, she set the glass on the nightstand and placed a cloth over Seokjin’s forehead gingerly. Feeling him still looming over her, if she should need anything else from him, she set the cup of water on the nightstand carefully. 
“Thank you, sweetheart, why don’t you and Hoseok sit tight on the couch until I finish up and I’ll show you around. I’m sure you’d love to settle in and relax,” Y/N said, using another cloth to begin swabbing away dried blood from Seokjin’s chest. Jimin had gone pink, mouth opening and closing again, before hurrying over to Hoseok already sitting on the green couch when the latter cleared his throat in amusement. Y/N fell into silence, searching her kit for some bruise cream. 
“Where’re you from, Jimin? That accent of yours certainly isn’t Bostonian,” Hoseok questioned, crossing an ankle over his knee. Loading up a piece of gauze with disinfectant, Y/N pretended she wasn’t listening to their conversation as she worked, hand pressed lightly on Seokjin’s chest so he wouldn’t flinch off of the bed due to the stinging sensation.
“I’m from southern Montana, my family is still there. I worked on the Yellowstone Park ranch,” Jimin answered easily, Hoseok making a hum of acknowledgement. “You?”
“Ah… I’ve been to so many places over the years, I can’t say that I remember where I was originally. Could have been London, might have been Paris. Around the time I was 17 I was brought to the States,” Hoseok said vaguely. Y/N had the feeling he was leaving out certain pieces of information purposefully, the tone of his voice genuinely surprised someone had asked him a personal question. Arching a brow, she applied the bruise cream on all of the spots she could see on Seokjin, hoping the cooling properties of the formula would ease some discomfort brought on by the fever. Hybrids healed faster than humans, so Seokjin would probably be able to get out and about by tomorrow afternoon, but she wanted to make sure he felt better as soon as possible.
The site of the wound cleaned, Y/N began to carefully place butterfly bandages on it. Her eyes felt like they were beginning to cross with fatigue as she fastened the last one by a rib, balling up the paper wrappings and stuffing them in her pocket. All she had left to do was cover the bandages in gauze and tape, and monitor his fever periodically – the thermometer she had pointed at Seokjin’s forehead told her his fever wasn’t something that required medications.
“So, a ranch? What, were you a cowboy?” Hoseok continued, preventing Jimin from asking a question first. Jimin sucked his teeth in annoyance, crossing his arms and leaning away from the fox hybrid. The sandy fur of Jimin’s tail stood on end, a defensive though uncontrollable action.
“You could call it that if you want, but we were ranchers. Mainly, we managed the cattle, trained horses, and maintained the park’s wildlife. I wasn’t Clint Eastwood,” Jimin grit his teeth, the words coming between them. Jimin must have gotten a remark like that hundreds of times to warrant that reaction, which made Y/N hide an involuntary snort as she taped down the gauze rectangle on Seokjin. 
Hoseok was laughing freely, his eyes squinting in humor while Jimin fumed on the furthest spot of the couch away from him, ears flat against his hair. Frowning, Y/N felt too bad to leave Seokjin in a shirt soiled with sweat and blood, so she straightened up and walked across the room to the wardrobe stuffed with her teenage garb. She was very into baggy band shirts in high school, so she knew that there would be at least one in the drawer that could accommodate Seokjin’s wide shoulders. 
“Good lord, I’m sorry, Jimin. I wasn’t expecting you to react like that,” Hoseok wiped a tear from his eye, sighing happily. Contrary to his unwillingness to reveal much about himself, Hoseok seemed completely at ease between the two other hybrids and Y/N herself, his body language relaxed as he slouched on the couch. Jimin mumbled back, Y/N not quite catching what he uttered. She grasped her largest shirt, an ancient Good Charlotte graphic tee from Warped Tour, cringing hard from the memories that came flooding back. 
Back at Seokjin’s side, she used the tiny pair of scissors in her kit to cut away the soiled shirt, pulling it off of him like a paper doll. 
“Hoseok, can you please help me sit him up for a second?” Y/N removed the cloth on Seokjin’s forehead, sliding a hand under his shoulder blade to lift one side. Hoseok jumped from the couch lightly, watching as Y/N held the back of Seokjin’s head so it wouldn’t roll backwards. Moving awkwardly, Y/N eased the well-worn shirt over his head, his rounded black ears popping up cutely as they passed through the neck opening, thanking Hoseok as he pulled Seokjin’s left arm through the hole. Straightening out the shirt, embarrassed of the print, Y/N and Hoseok gently laid him back down. She pulled the covers up over Seokjin when he began to tremble, the fever chills setting in. Lastly, Y/N replaced the cloth on his forehead with a new one, and supplied a bottle of water from her tote bag to leave on the nightstand.
“That wasn’t too bad, luckily. Another day or so in that shelter, he would have gotten an infection,” Y/N used a finger to swipe a lock of hair from Seokjin’s eye, smiling in satisfaction with her work. He looked far more comfortable, cozy, even, now that his fever was being managed, even humming in his sleep with the comforter pulled up to his chin. 
“Ready for the tour?” Y/N tore herself away from Seokjin, rubbing her eyes as she approached the other two hybrids. 
“Are you tired, Mi– Y/N?” Jimin asked, quickly covering up his habit for titles. Grimacing, Y/N drew the curtains partially closed in the room to keep it from heating up in the afternoon sun. She definitely looked tired, her eyes swollen, watering, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror by the wardrobe.
“Just a little bit! I’ll probably take a short nap after I show you around. Staying up all night isn’t as easy as it was when I was nineteen,” Y/N admitted, almost fainting at the thought of sinking into her bed for an hour or two. “Let’s let Seokjin get some rest, I’ll check on him before I nap myself.”
Leaving the door halfway open, she motioned the two hybrids out into the hallway. 
“Straight ahead here, that’s my bedroom. These two doors here on the right are coat closets,” Y/N pointed out their immediate surroundings, moving forward into the foyer. “This is the front entrance! It still needs quite a bit of work, as does most of the house, as you can see with the half-stripped staircase…”
Hoseok made a circle around the foyer room, looking closely at the cloudy stained glass windows, pausing by the staircase. 
“What’s that door, there?” He questioned, pointing to the door down to the basement. 
“That’s the basement! My mother and I just finished renovating it, want to check it out? I suppose you took a peek into the dining room and the living room we passed by earlier, so all that’s left on this floor is the old office, the yellow and blue bedrooms, and the sunroom. You can take a look as you please, later,” Y/N opened up the basement door for Hoseok, switching on the lovely new lights her mother hung up. 
In an effort to make the basement less horrifyingly haunted looking, Y/N’s mother painstakingly helped her paint it in bright creams and soft green, making sure there were plenty of light fixtures and lamps. Y/N took the lead as Hoseok and Jimin followed her down the carpeted staircase, the scent of paint still vaguely lingering in the air. 
“Over there, my mother put in a little gym area.”
The right side of the basement had a mirrored wall, an exercise bike, and a rack of dumbbells. The full bathroom was over there, as well, complete with a little sauna room, something her mother had splurged on for Y/N’s last birthday. It hadn’t gotten much use, with Y/N’s extended hours in the past months, but she had a feeling that was about to change with her newfound free time. Hoseok whistled, an apparent quirk of his, smiling widely at the stereo system mounted on the wall. 
“On that side is a nice new bedroom, what was once a storage room for my grandmother’s junk collection. There’s even a little window in there by the ceiling that was hidden behind some old, crumbly drywall,” Y/N slid the pocket door open, which offered privacy from the gym, letting Jimin and Hoseok get a good look. 
The bedroom had a nice set of rosewood furniture, keeping it on theme with the rest of the home. A large dresser, a desk, queen sized bed, even a space heater tucked away for wintertime. It was one of her favorite bedrooms, artistic painted wallpaper stenciled in by her mother’s hand. 
“This is beautiful,” Hoseok breathed, fingers skimming the cream quilt. She watched him admire the painted ivy on the wall, tail swishing as he walked the width of the room.
“I’ll relay the message to my mother,” Y/N crossed her arms in amusement, leaning against the doorframe. Jimin had gone to examine the sauna, excitedly, his shoes making hollow thuds as he walked around in it behind her. “You want this room?” 
Hoseok’s head snapped up, catching Y/N’s bemused expression, before tilting his head in contemplation. 
“Can I think about it?”
“You absolutely may, there’s a lot more to see,” Y/N affirmed, bringing him back out to the stairwell. Jimin was already waiting for them, flicking his overgrown hair out of his eyes again. She’d have to make appointments for everyone to get a haircut next week, her list of to-do’s becoming longer by the second. 
“Onwards!” Y/N marched up the stairs and wincing, legs screaming in distress. Jimin made a choked sound as he hurried after her, Hoseok lingering for a moment longer before he followed. 
The three ended up on the second floor after taking a blast through the remainder of the first floor. Jimin took a liking to the blue bedroom by the sunroom, overlooking the backyard. Y/N could tell he wanted to claim it when he sunk into the royal blue velvet chair by the window, but refrained from pushing it on him until he saw the rest of the place.
The hybrids followed her through the library, the dusty billiard’s room and family room, and the two tower rooms. They didn’t seem to jump on the opportunity to be on the higher floor, even the pink, lavender, and sunset orange rooms with smaller windows than the tower rooms didn’t get them as excited as they were previously. Y/N was wilting with exhaustion, patiently answering questions about art on the walls or books on shelves, but with the tour of the house done, she knew that she’d be crawling into bed any moment. 
“Any decisions?” Y/N pondered, trudging down the stairs. Met with nervous silence, Y/N sighed lightly, giving the two an encouraging look when they arrived back in the foyer. 
“I’m partial to that blue room, over in the back…” Jimin stared at the black and white tiled floor, voice soft. Y/N wanted to grab the both of them and insist that this was their home now too, and deserved to pick the room they wanted the most, but getting them to believe that would take time and even more patience. 
“It’s yours,” Y/N confirmed, hoping Hoseok hadn’t wanted the same room suddenly. Jimin perked up, shuffling his feet, and giving her a nod in thanks. They both gave Hoseok an expectant look, while he stared at the basement door. 
“Hoseok?” Y/N giggled, his ears swiveling back in embarrassment when he caught their looks. “Did you think about it?” 
“I think the basement is calling his name or something,” Jimin teased, surprising everyone else in the room. Perhaps it was payback from Hoseok’s earlier jabs. 
“Am I that obvious?” Hoseok exclaimed, nudging Jimin with his shoulder. Jimin blushed, eyes squinting in mirth. He had a gorgeous smile, and it was so nice to see the two of them get along amicably with their teasing. 
“So, Jimin will take the blue room and Hoseok the basement room? Is that right?”
The two nodded, still smiling from their little moment. A chorus of angels sang hallelujah in her head, finally able to get some rest now that the room choices were squared away. 
“Do you need anything from me before I get some sleep? I’ll be up to make some late lunch, but please feel free to help yourself to anything in the kitchen if you want a snack,” Y/N insisted. 
“I’m alright, thank you… but you should really get some sleep. We’ll be fine,” Jimin reassured her, Hoseok agreeing with a hum. Grinning gratefully, Y/N began to head towards the hallway. 
“Well then, I’ll leave you two to settle in for now. I’m just going to check on Seokjin, first,” she gave them a little wave, watching as Jimin set off towards his room with a skip in his step and Hoseok waved back animatedly. 
Shaking her head with a chuckle, she slid into Seokjin’s room quietly, eyes adjusting in the low light. She could hear his steady breathing, and upon closer examination Y/N saw that he was still fast asleep. Gently, she rinsed another cloth in the cool cup of water, swapping it from the warm one on his forehead. Seokjin mumbled in his sleep as it draped over him, his ears fluttering against the pillow. 
Leaving him, Y/N set an alarm on her phone to wake her in time to make the food mid-afternoon, stumbling down the hallway. The list on her phone grew lengthy, bullet points reading: open up seven hybrid-specific credit cards, call friends and family to break the news, order cell phones, schedule haircuts… all of which she would tackle later that night. 
She strained her ears for any sounds of the other two hybrids, but all she heard was the wind blowing willow branches against the windows of her bedroom. Deciding to take a nice, cool shower after her nap, she closed her door, stripped to her underwear, and collapsed into her bed. Her lights were out almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, but she already felt like she was floating through a dream.
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Taglist; @blancflms @grazysf @sbromp @jaxavance @sunderlight @ot7nem @mageprincess7 @wittyreader @drenix004 @mayla548 @skyys-universe
Please do not repost or translate my work. Thank you!
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mymyapplesigh · 2 months
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Hihi!
Could you write a Walker Scobell x Reader fic where the reader gave him a handmade gift (crochet, origami or smth) at a fan event and she hid a piece of paper inside of it with her instagram handle? (I'm sorry if this is a weird request😭; I don't even understand the stuff my brain comes up with💀)
Anyways, thank youu! I hope you have a great day! :D
OOOO A WALKER ASK I LOVE IT !!! 🙈🙈
PLS SEND MORE REQUESTS GUYS PLS😇
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Walker Scobell x Reader
Youve been a fan of Walker for a few years now. When you saw the Adam Project something was pulling you towards him. Following him on Instagram you gave it a rest. Its when he got his role of Percy Jackson on Disneys new spin off is when he really blew up. You saw all the behind the scenes and interviews he was in. The show itself was amazing, other than the slight jealousy you would feel here and there but thats normal for any teen.
He quickly became a HUGE celebrity crush for you. You knew that everyone felt like that for a celebrity crush but Walker felt like a school crush. You felt like you knew him. And like any cleberity crush, you told your best friend, your mom, your dad, your sister, your brother, your cat/dog, your school friends your not as close to, yiur favorite teacher, your least favorite teacher, and the old lady next door that loved hearing you talk.
“No you dont understand, hes different. I feel like I ACTUALLY know him.” you ranted to your best friend at your guys lab station in science.
“Y/n, hes just a celebrity. Half of the teenage girl population feels the same way you do right now.” She responded sort of knocking some sense into your brain. It didnt quite reach the part of your brain responsible for common sense as you still felt the same way.
“You know, hes having that fan meet thing close by in down town. If you really want to meet him just go to that, my daughter will be there too.” Your science teacher said coming behind you scaring the shit out of you.
Then it hit you, he was coming here. Your crush coming here. Walker THE Scobell. Pulling out your phone you looked it up to see if it was true. Seeing Walkers story it proved it. He was even staying at the hotel near your apartment. Near isnt the right word, ONE BUILDING OVER.
Coming home from school that day went awfully quick. The subject from earlier being the only thing occupying your mind.
How would you even make him notice you? You fit it with everyone else. There would be no way. Your eyes wandering around your room in thought just as your cat was playing with your crochet yarn. Now you have an idea.
After a little bit of social media you realized he really looked up to Ryan Renolds and had this thing for Deadpool. You were definitely going to make him a deadpool stuffed animal.
When your hands were cramped enough and it finally looked like deadpool you knew you were done. Then another thought hit you. Even if he took it, that would be it. Hed notice you for about 5.6 seconds and then itd just be stored randomly in his house.
A notification came from your phone, Walkers notification that he posted. Youd give him your Instagram. Even though it was unlikely hed ever take it the hope inside of you was stronger than any doubt you had.
The day to finally see him came quicker than you imagined. You spent hours putting on your best formal wear and even more to do your hair (and makeup if your a girl 😋).
When you finally saw him you realized he saw you first. His eyes being drawn to your face as he walked over to you. You shouldve taken your meds before you came. He walked over and smiled at you. Not any smile youve seen, a genuine one. Not the kind youd give when you see a stranger pass by you, but the one that you give when you actually see someone you love.
“Please tell me this is for me.” He sort of yelled as he tried to make his voice louder than his screaming fans.
“Yes, yes of course.” you giggled as your shaky hands gave it to his. You noticed how his hands gently went over yours. Then the screams of fans changed. They went from begging for his attention to being on them to sounds of awes and your personal favorite; “are you guys dating” “is that your girlfriend”
When he walked away though your eyes and heart didnt miss the way his head turned back around to see you, that smile was back on his face.
When you got home you were euphoric. Walker THE Scobell noticed you and you were freaking out STILL.
Your phone buzzed again. A more agressive vibration so it wasnt a imessage.
‘Walker Scobell followed you!’
Your heart dropped into your ass.
Opening up Instagram you shook even more. About to message your friend on Instagram you noticed his note.
‘I fell inlove at a fan meet.’
And before you could even text your friend another notification went off.
Walker Scobell
Hi, is this the fan that gave me the deadpool?
yes! it is 🩷
I just wanted to say that I think your really cool and I was wondering if you wanna be friends?
Seen 32 mins ago
You didnt know what to do. Respond or never text him again. Throw up or pass out even.
You decided to reapond to him.
Its funny how that whole story was only 2 years ago. You were now with your lovely boyfriend Walker. You were at his house watching the new season of Percy Jackson starring you in it. Life is amazing when you take chances.
“Man I hate watching my acting, why did I make that face.” Your boyfriend started complaining watching himself on the tv.
“Oh shush you look good and you know it.” Your assured him lifting up the curls on his head to give him a genuine kiss on his forehead.
He looked up from you from where his head was laying on your chest and gave you those eyes. Those sea blue eyes that filled with warmth tenderness. You knew he was always more than a celebrity crush. He was your soulmate.
Pls send me your requests !!
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shelbgrey · 4 months
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Can you do a Zack Addy x gn reader where reader goes to the Jeffersonian to bring him food and eat with him and everyone is confused because they didn't know Zack had a partner please?
Who's got him smiling like that?(Zack Addy)
Paring: Zack Addy x reader.
Summary: while y/n has lunch with their boyfriend Zack, the Jeffersonian tries to figure out what's going on between the two of them.
A/n: sorry this took so long and that it's shorter than my usual content. I hope you enjoy though.
MasterList
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Seeley, Cam, Temperance, and Angela looked down from the balcony on the second floor of the lab. They leaned against the railing confused as they watched Zack laughing with y/n while they ate the lunch y/n brought.
“gotta be a sibling” Booth said, rubbing his hands together. In his eyes Zack was just a child genius that didn't have time to date.
“all of Dr. Addy's siblings are in New Jersey, but that could be a possibility,” Brennan said, looking at Booth then back down at Zack. Something about seeing Zack laughing like that with this beautiful person made her heart swell with happiness.
“Maybe it's just a friend,” Cam shrugged.
“No. I've never seen him laugh like that, he's definitely in love with whoever that is” Angela smiled. She felt so happy seeing him laugh. She could tell all that mattered to him tight now was y/n.
--------(1st pov)--------
“So, how's work?” I asked, nibbling on the last of my fries.
Zack nodded, munching on his onion rings. “well we found some very interesting set of particulates, something neither me nor Hodgins have seen on a victim before, and the humerus…” he stopped mid sentence.
Even though I never really understood all the science mumbo-jumbo I still like hearing him talk about it. There's something about seeing him get all excited and talk about something he's passionate about.
“no, no, keep going. I love it when you talk Science-y” I said resting my chin on my fist.
“'Science-y' isn't a word… And it's fine” Zack said, putting the rapper his burger came in and his napkin in the brown paper bag. “on another note, how's everything in the animal kingdom?”
I worked at the local animal shelter in town, it was an amazing job and I got work and take care of all kinds of dogs and cats. “well… Now that you mention it…” I started and gave him an innocent look. Zack tilted his head and gave me a warning look. “no! I know that look” he said, pointing his finger at me.
“Aw, but he was so cute”
“we already have two dogs... And a cat, that cat still dislikes me” he mumbled the last part.
“It's a small dog though,” I said, giving him a pouty lip. “it's a weiner dog mix, he'll stay tiny” we already had a black lab and a golden retriever, then on top of that I brought home a white cat home three months ago.
Zack playfully rolled his eyes. He always said he admired my love for all animals and loved how compassionate I was for all of them. Not so much when I keep bringing my ‘work’ home with me as he says.
“just imagine a cute little sausage dog curled up in your lap, helping you read Science stuff for work”
Zack sighed playfully.
“I'll let you name him” I smiled and gave him the puppy eyes he can't refuse. He sighed again. “don't give me the look”
“Please”
Zack groaned in a very monaton way. “... Fine”
I immediately wrapped my arms around him and kissed his forehead. “thank you babe”
~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~
“what are you doing?” Hodgins asked, walking up to the others. He looked over the balcony to see what everyone was staring at. He smiled when he saw y/n and Zack together.
“trying to figure out who's with Addy,” Booth said.
“Oh, that's y/n” Hodgins smiled.
Everyone gave Hodgins a confused look as Hodgins yelled down at the couple “Hi y/n!”
Y/n left Zack's arms and happily waved at Zack's best friend. “hey, Hodgins”
“soo… Who's y/n?” Angela asked Hodgins.
“Zack's partner” Hodgins smiled like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“your telling me Zack… Our little child prodigy is y/n's boyfriend” Booth asked, shocked but at the same time impressed Zack snatched up a beautiful person like y/n.
“trust me I didn't even know y/n existed until Zack tried to seek them in one night when he was still living with me” Hodgins said.
“Well, y/n seems to make him happy,” Cam smiled down at the couple.
“y/n's great… Zack just seems so much happier now”
The team smiled at the couple, Zack and y/n were in there own little world talking about the knew puppy and the case Zack was working on. Hodgins was right, he was so much happier with y/n in his life, he felt more alive and human. He just couldn't help but smile everytime he was in y/n's presents.
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callioope · 26 days
Text
The fire crackles in the hearth, just feet away from Essek and yet distant in his mind as he scans the papers splayed out across the coffee table. Somewhere in that background land, a spoon clinks against ceramic. The familiar scent of hot cocoa wafts in the air around him. Footsteps, both human and feline, pad across wooden floorboards and braided rugs. 
Essek shuffles the papers, brow furrowing and finger tapping his chin. “We’re missing something,” he murmurs. 
A mug settles before him in a small patch of bare coffee table, thudding softly against the wood, and the scent of chocolate wafts closer. He doesn’t reach for it yet, but the motion draws his attention towards the nearest papers and he pulls them closer, skimming once more the notes of the smartest mind he’s ever known besides his own. 
“Take a break,” Caleb says, near his ear. Essek wrinkles his nose as the breath tickles his ear, jingling his earrings. 
“We are this close—” Essek protests.
Caleb reaches for the quill from Essek’s fingers. “You haven’t written anything in twenty-seven minutes. Take a break.”
With a huff, Essek pulls his hand away before Caleb can steal the quill. “I am about to,” he protests, putting the quill to the last paper he’d been looking at. A small dot bleeds into a larger spot as he places the quill but doesn’t move it further. His mind stalls at Caleb’s proximity — yes, that’s the reason. Certainly not that he is stumped. No.
“Come, dear, before the cocoa is cold.”
Essek tuts. “Hardly a concern in this household.”
Caleb merely hums, and Essek hears him sip his own hot cocoa. “Mmm,” he adds, to which Essek snorts in response.
But five minutes later, the pages hold no answers — just endless runes, numbers, and letters, rambling musings that circle around the problem but don’t strike at the heart of it. Essek twitches his fingers in the start of somatics, but they fizzle without intent and without the finishing gestures. 
“It is practically easier than a cantrip,” he says, dropping his fist heavily against the table, which rattles the mug. One of the cats glares up at him from her spot by the fire place, her green eye resentful for the disturbance. 
“For you, maybe. We all have our special tricks.” He takes out a polished stone and sets it down on a pile of papers, just as the unnerved cat leaps up from her place on the floor and darts past, rustling the papers before Essek. “I can’t say I could distill this into a spell that any wizard could replicate. And other transmuters know this trick. The same cannot be said for yours.”
“Precisely the problem,” Essek says, resting his elbow on the coffee table and settling his chin into his palm. Entirely uncouth behavior, he thinks idly. Nothing he ever could have done in the parlor growing up. In fact he never used to noodle over problems like this — or use the word ‘noodle’. No, in the before times, the century plus that stretched out before he met the Nein, he properly pondered problems in his meticulous, organized lab. Oh great, now he was alliterating in his own internal monologue.
With a sigh, he sets down his quill and fingers the amber stone dangling from his right ear. “I invented the ability in the first place. I should know how to make it a spell.”
He stands suddenly enough that Caleb jerks in surprise. “Where are you going?” 
“To organize spell components,” he says, maybe a bit haughtily, gathering up the papers to take them to their shared office. He tuts as he enters it, for the first time noting how small the space is compared to the office in his towers, and this new one is shared by two. He knew some lower staff at the Bastion shared office space like this, but he never had. 
He putters around their filing drawers for components, reorganizes his desk while harboring restraint at the urge to organize Caleb’s, and debates the merits of a new cataloging system for the bookshelf.
He has no idea how much time has passed before Caleb tugs him back down to the ground from his float to reach the top shelf, where he was sure he’d stowed his original developmental notes on defying gravity. 
“Liebling,” Caleb pleads, again nuzzling Essek’s ear so that it twitches in response. “Your cocoa is getting cold.”
With a sigh, Essek relents, allowing Caleb to pull him back into the living room. This space is small, too, but that’s not usually the word he thinks when he settles into the threadbare sofa and drapes the quilt over his legs. Cozy is the right word, he reminds himself. And whenever the shared office feels claustrophobic, he must remember that the other mind that uses it frequently expands the ideas of his own. 
He rubs his face, only now noticing the ache in his eyes from reading too many words without blinking. Caleb settles in next to him on the sofa and elbows him to hand him the cocoa, reheated with a signature fire cantrip. 
Essek takes a sip, savors the richness of the cocoa, the steam that fills his head and spreads out to the tips of his ears, and the burn at the back of his throat.
“Oh!” he exclaims, the taste of the whiskey bringing him back to an entirely different time.
“Surprise,” Caleb says.
“This will not help me think,” Essek says, wrinkling his nose but then taking another sip. It reminds him of trust, and friendship, and reunions in a lonely, cold place. But also it reminds him of great feats of magic.
“We altered the fabric of time to rejuvenate our resources,” he says, practically whining. Compeletely unacceptable back home.  “Why can we not create a simple first level spell?”
“Do you ever find writing a one page essay more challenging than a ten page term paper?” Caleb asks, as if posing a philosophical question to his class. Essek huffs. “Well, my students complain of it often.”
“I am not so young and inexperienced as them,” Essek says. 
“And you do not have the deadlines they have, either,” Caleb retorts. “The problem will be there in the morning.”
Essek leans his head against the back of the sofa and stares up at the wooden rafters. “We are on the cusp of breakthrough,” he says. “Is that not what you said to me last week? Hmm?”
Caleb turns and rests his elbow on the back of the sofa, leaning sideways to look at Essek straight on, although Essek does not turn to meet his gaze. “I believe a wise old man talked some sense into me at the time.”
“Impertinent youth.”
With a chuckle, Caleb nudges Essek’s shoulder. “How is the cocoa?”
“Delicious, of course. Did you use Caduceus’ blend? It tastes like—Oh!”
The memories of Aeor jolt something in Essek’s brain, discoveries they had made in the depths there. He reaches for the quill, and his spellbook, and spare parchment, this time sweeping the quill across the paper in flurried strokes as his other hand flips through pages to find his notes from their travels. 
Caleb leans over to read his writing and point out a discrepancy in an equation jotted down too quickly. “I think, though, that you are on to something…” 
He stands and disappears into the office, bringing back several tomes brought back from the ruins. Essek quickly finishes the cocoa as they flip through pages and refine their notes until they coalesce more or less into something resembling a spell.
When several papers spill out onto the floor, Caleb says, “You know, next time I will just summon the tower, we’d have more space, maybe a chalkboard—”
“No,” Essek says, writing the last line of runes and setting down his quill. He stares at it for a moment, the piles of paper sprawled out across the coffee table, the cats curled up in front of the hearth, the mismatched furniture taking up most of the space in the room so that Essek and Caleb have to squeeze into narrow space between the couch and table. He breathes in the smell of cocoa and the hearth. He looks to the dark window where snow accumulates atop the green bean planters. He looks at Caleb’s shining blue eyes, the excitement of crafting a new spell bright with them. 
Essek reaches out to touch Caleb’s forearm. “I would love nothing more than to be here with you.”
With a wide grin, Caleb takes Essek’s face in his hands, and kisses him.
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atmajolish · 1 year
Text
obey me as fanfiction tropes lucifer - meet the family
you don't know why you have never met his family, just that every time the topic comes up he does his best to avoid it. at this point you think he might be the head of a mafia and simply doesn't want to involve you in the 'family business'. it's a surprise when he suddenly invites you to join a dinner with his family and when you go you realise that you got it all wrong. it's not that his family is all serious and involved in the mafia, it's that they are so chaotic it's hard to keep up. even for lucifer.
mammon - bodyguard au
being famous is only fun when your life and privacy isn't threatened by a stalker, hence why your manager decided to get you a bodyguard. you aren't quite sure how mammon is supposed to protect you, considering he seems to be easily distracted and like he hates spending time with you as he seems to think you are just like any other famous person, ready to abandon your morals the moment it suits you. but when he saves your life you're forced to reevaluate your opinion of him. maybe you can make him rethink his opinion on you as well.
leviathan - friends to lovers
you and levi have known each other since forever. you went to the same elementary school and when you saw that levi seemed to like the same cartoon you did, you just had to befriend him! several years down the line you are now in university while levi is making his main income via streaming. it feels hard to connect the same way you used to with how different your lives are these days, but you refuse to give this friendship up. the fact that you might see levi as more than a friend has nothing to do with that.
satan - coffee shop (cat café)
working as a barista in a cat café sounded like a fun way to work in theory. in practice you don't make a lot of coffee, but spend your time cleaning up after the cats. the fact that this guy keeps coming in without ordering anything and just watches the cats for at least an hour before leaving. you're sure it's against the rules, but you don't want to be the one to confront him. you don't get paid for that after all. however, he must have noticed you staring at him because he is coming over and how did you get to the point where he is telling you cat facts?
asmodeus - fake dating
you're unsure how you ended up owing a favour to mammon out of all people, but he's cashing it in right now. apparently his brother has troubles getting rid of an admirer and you're the only possible person who would agree to fake date him and keep shut about it. which is why you and asmo are now sitting in his living room deciding to come up with a way on how you fell in love. it would be so easy if your traitorous heart would just stop fluttering every time he reaches out to hold your hand in public.
beelzebub - soulmate au
sharing the taste with your soulmate sounds good in theory. of course you had to get unlucky with it as your soulmate seems to eat almost constantly and have no limits as to what exactly they eat. you've tasted multiple inedible things and at this point you're concerned for your soulmates health because there are probably repercussions for eating paper. when you see your lab partner trying to eat some of the chemicals you're working with it doesn't take you long to put two and two together. you can't even be mad for all the things you were forced to taste because beel is just cute enough to get away with it.
belphegor - roommates
you are used to your roommate falling asleep in the weirdest spots and it's a miracle he doesn't wake up with severe neck and back pain every day. however when he starts sleeping in your room because 'he likes the company' you need to start rethinking some of your feelings. when you ask him why he doesn't just sleep in his own bed, you only get a sigh and belphie tells you that it's no use sleeping there, because you aren't there. maybe belphie had already figured his feelings out long before you.
diavolo - arranged marriage
being in an arranged marriage was made out to be a lot worse than it actually was. at least in your case. you've known diavolo since you were kids and the both of you had always known it would come to this at one point. still, the thought of possibly ruling a kingdom at his side was a bit daunting. it's when he reassures you that he will handle it and plans out several shenanigans just to distract you from the pressure, that you think maybe you can fall in love with him.
barbatos - time loop
you've been forced to repeat the same day over and over again every time you die and no matter how hard you try, you just can't seem to figure out who your killer is. you're sure it's always the same person and they should be the only who is also aware of the time loop, but detective work has never been your strength. it's when a friend of a friend mentions something you said several time loops ago that cold horror washes over you. you never expected barbatos, the guy you sorta had a crush on to be your murderer.
simeon - elementary school teacher
teachers aren't supposed to have favorite students, but it's hard to not like luke just a bit more than the rest. if only because he's the one that listens to you most of the time. what you don't expect is that his dad is also exactly your type, so you really can't help but stare for a bit when simeon first walks in for the parent-teacher conference. what you also don't expect is simeon giving you his number since luke will move to a different school soon. when you ask what the number is for, he hides a smile before telling you it's his way of asking you out.
solomon - reincarnation
you don't know how often you have died and been reborn again. it's been a lot of times. the thing is, you have the easy part. the dying and the reincarnating. your lover solomon has the hard part as he is unable to die and has to live without you until your soul has come back to earth. your memories fade a little more each time you come back and you don't know how long you will be able to keep remembering him, nor how long he will keep on waiting for you.
mephistoteles - enemies to lovers
there are many things you could say about mephistoteles, however it would always be that you kinda hate him. he's stuck up, rich, and can't look past his own nose. you know he thinks about you just as badly so every single time you two see each other you only exchange glares and maybe a few insults if either of you is in a particular bad mood. it's when you're forced to work together for a project that you are forced to see him in a new light, no matter how much you hate that there is more to him than the image you have in your head.
raphael - secret agents
working with raphael has always been easy. he listens well and he can easily kill and get out without much issue. it's only problematic that he refuses to accept any help whatsoever from you, insisting it's easier if he just does it alone. normally you should be happy about that, it means less work for you, but something about it just irks you. it's when a mission goes south that the two of you finally have a heart to heart and realise that working together might be easier than it seems.
thirteen - hitman/target
there's been a hitman trailing after you for a while now. there have been too many freak accidents near you for them to be just accidents. it's when you enter your apartment and see said hitman casually lounging on your couch, eating your snacks, watching your tv. you definitely didn't think she'd be this pretty. her complaining about how you keep avoiding her traps and take out all of the fun of job, reminds you that she is sent to kill you though. it sure is a surprise when she decides to take her time and instead pose as your roommate for the time being and with every day it gets just a bit harder to distinguish whether she still wants to kill you or there is actually more to your relationship.
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