#Bird ears? They do have the long beaks

[sysig]

Feedback (Patreon)

Bonus:

[devildomwriter]

Demon Types

Here’s my extensive guide to demon types and their psychology and physiology

What type is your OC

Avian

Avian demons are categorized based on feather or other bird like attributes.

A common avian demon will have one or more pairs of feathered wings, in rarer cases they will have a feathered tail, feathered ears, a bird’s beak, or bird’s feet.

Avian demons tend to be on the prideful and showy side and normally share one or more personality characteristics with the bird they most resemble, the most common being a raven or crow.

They tend to have a lighter body weight and their wings are more fragile since the bones inside are hollow allowing a lighter body for flight.

Another contributor to a light body weight is they have stomachs smaller than most demons which leads to them becoming full easily and not being weighed down by food

More common magic abilities in avian types include voice mimicking, flexible necks, heightened navigation skills, and a good amount of speed thanks to light bodies and feathered wings

Avians have a difficult time maintaining their wings or feathers on their own and will usually require help.

Every so often they keep their wings out to allow old feathers to fall and if they have no patience for this will do it themselves or ask for assistance

Similarly to angels, avian demons mix a special brew that must be applied to their wings to keep them clean, healthy, and shiny as they don’t produce it naturally like wild birds would.

Avians tend to have a habit of surrounding themselves with jewelry or nicknacks and collecting things they find like shiny pebbles. They usually can’t ignore fallen change on the street or purchasing any jewelry they deem appealing to the eye.

For this reason many avians are either wild thieves or high class citizens for the sole purpose of obtaining what they desire as demons lack sufficient control of their impulses.

Typically avians have jobs in offices, fashion, design, high profile positions, and the STEM field.

Given that many avians were once angels or are renowned in the same way Lucifer is, they are stereotyped as a high class type of demon though the majority live in the wilds acting more like vultures than peacocks

Known Avians: Lucifer

Commonality: 1/10

Reptilian

Reptilians demons are categorized based on scales and other reptilian features.

A common reptilian demon will present a long scaled tail, forked tongue, and slit pupils but not always all three. They will always have hard armor-like scales, and very rarely have wings.

Reptilian demons tend to be more hostile to others until they trust you and come out of their shells, which could take a long time.

Reptilians are easy to distinguish medically, because of their cold-blood combined with scales. For the rare winters and freezes in the Devildom, this is a real issue and they need to prepare their homes to maximum heat, as they don’t do well in the cold and could fall into a coma-like hibernation until they’ve become warm again.

The myth of demons being creatures of the night has a lot to do with reptilian demons. The reptilian demons are usually sent as spies warriors to the human realm due to their thick armor-like scales. However in the human world where the sun shines they become more lethargic and relaxed as they absorb the sun’s energy in the day and are more active and awake at night, using the energy they stored.

Reptilian magic tends to be geared more towards offensive spells since they are common soldiers and the original demon species, aside from the draconian devil. They can use defensive magic but their thick scales are usually protection enough from major wounds.

Every so often reptiles will shed their scales and regrow more durable ones, even if the specific demon does not need them for battle. Demons who are used to combat and battle will shed theirs more often, the bodies natural response to any inflictions.

Reptilians usually gravitate towards more militant jobs or ones that don’t appear in public eye like working from home, or in a quiet office room.

Reptilians don’t tend to have a social class stereotype because of their commonality but many are proud to be reptilian types and see themselves as the originals.

Known Reptilians: Barbatos

Commonality: 10/10

Aquatic

Aquatic demons are categorized based on their adaptability to water and the usual appearance of gills and webbed finger or toes.

A common aquatic demon will have a long tail, usually with fins or slick scales that help them adapt to the water and move more gracefully through it. Very rarely do they have wings but sometimes with will have large fins that appear to be wings.

Like reptilians they are cold blooded and in times of rare cold on the surface, they prefer to retreat to the warmer oceans and lakes or a heated indoor pool.

Similarly to fish the aquatic demons have a air-bladder that allows them to control their buoyancy and maintain the depth they are in the water without expending too much of their energy swimming upwards and downwards.

Not all aquatic demons will have gills but most have lungs adaptable to air and to water. If they don’t have gills they will need to exercise often to maintain their naturally powerful lungs allowing them to hold their breath for extended amounts of time. Most aquatic types can hold their breath for hours on end, untrained lungs should still be able to hold their breath for close to an hour before it becomes painful.

A downside to living on the land includes increased chances of dry skin and dry eyes. They usually compensate by taking more baths and showers, living somewhere more humid, and using eye drops.

All aquatic babies are born with gills and do better a water-crib—a bath-like crib full of water specifically for aquatic type demons—these cribs allow them to breathe more easily after birth and slowly adapt to the air.

More common magic and non-magic abilities in aquatic demons are water adaptability, water manipulation, communication with sea animals, great speed and grace in water, smell great distances underwater, excellent marksmanship, clearer vision, and some even have the ability to change their sex.

Their jobs typically involve water in some way for example working at an aquarium, being a life guard, being part of the navy or cost guard, teaching swimming are aqua aerobics, etc.

Aquatic demons tend to be more easy going, happy-go-lucky, bubbly people but there are exceptions and some can be very stealthy, shy, and introverted. They enjoy surrounding themselves with reminders of the ocean, lost treasures, and things like beautiful petals and shells

Known Aquatics: Leviathan

Commonality: 5/10

Mammalian

Mammalian are warm-blooded demons that bare clear animalistic traits in their demon forms. These can include bovine markings, felines eyes, more natural body hair, cloven feet, barbed tongues and many more common distinguishing features. Mammalian are very rarely winged, and usually have tails related to their animal. Most mammalians have cow, bull, sheep, goat, or lion features. The animal they are related to usually has a lot to do with personality, for examples the lions tend to be more proud and aggressive, the bovine are easily angered and slothful, the goats like to but heads with others and will eat just about anything, the felines tend to be loners and the canines tend to have large friend groups, etc.

Mammalians are usually heavier and physically stronger than they appear but their magic is usually weaker than the average demon as compensation.

Common magical abilities will also vary depending on the animal they relate to but usually include night-vision, increased senses, increased strength, heightened awareness of their surroundings, energy absorption, high adaptability and stealth, and silver tongues.

Mammalian demons have a tendency to shed and must brush their hair and tails often. They grow body hair more quickly and need to shave more often too, while some don’t mind this others are annoyed enough to seek out medication it magical alternatives to laser hair removal. Some however take great pride in their body hair and female/non-binary mammalian demons tend to be more attracted to those with beards or more hair.

They have a harder time resisting temptation than most, this reason isn’t fully known, and they are typically outgoing and well known people, even the quiet ones have a large presence or air of mystery surrounding them.

Mammalians find fluffy pillows, clothes, and blankets to be very comforting. They prefer meaty foods and milk-based drinks although some stick to a more herbivore diet (based on their animal) however this is exceedingly rare as veganism/vegetarianism is almost unheard of for demons.

Mammalians tend to have more athletic, therapeutic, salesmanship or nature-based jobs including professional athletes, physical trainers, job recruiters, hosts, therapists, gardeners, farmers, etc.

Known Mammalians: Belphegor

Commonality: 4/10

Insectoid

Insectoid demons are distinguishable by their insect or arachnid features. Most will have more than one pair of eyes, bug-related wings, a scorpion tail, or piercers in their demon form.

Insectoid females tend to be larger than regular females and are more brazen and domineering. The males tend to be more quiet, aloof, and isolated.

Insectoids have larger appetites than most, can carry things much heavier than themselves, work best in groups, and tend to copy each other (almost like a hive-mind)

They are much sturdier than most demons but have a very fast metabolism as a means to help them fly more easily, so they can often be seen eating and you’d be hard pressed to find a youthful overweight insectoid.

Insectoids can also shed their exoskeletons and scales, which appears rather frightening but doesn’t cause them any harm and helps them in many ways. They become more durable, lose any trace of scars, and become more appealing too.

Insectoid demons usually have poison that can cause pain, immobility, or attraction. They use it as they see fit, but there are rules governing the usage and legality of some things their poison allows them to do.

Insectoids may have other amazing natural abilities like detecting a change in air current, incredibly high jumps, superior strength, hypermobility, superior durability and agility, silk-production, poison production, mobile heads, may have extra stomachs.

Magical abilities that insectoids may possess are mind-control, hormonal manipulation, invisibility, chemical manipulation, telepathy, magic tunneling (creation of tunnels using magic), and other earth-related abilities.

Insectoid males tend to gravitate towards laborious work, athletic careers, and somewhere they can be part of a large team, while females tend to seek jobs of power and strive to make their way up the ranks in the political and working world.

Insectoids tend to be clingier than most, like to observe others closely, are easily manipulated by trends, are very trusting, and a little aloof. For females almost the opposite can be said. These personalities also depend on the insect they represent but generally gender plays the largest roll and changes the way they think, however therapy can work for those who do like being naturally aloof or domineering. It should be noted that this is not always the case.

Insectoids are usually generalized as hard working and/or manipulative people and do very well in Devildom society.

Known Insectoids: Beelzebub

Commonality: 7/10

Draconian

Draconian demons will either have scaled dragon-like wings, or a dragon-tail. Those without these features may be categorized based on natural fire magic combined with cold-blood.

Draconian types have a very high tolerance to heat and fire, more so than the average demon. They have very strong wings and are highly capable fliers.

Unlike reptiles who absorb energy from sunlight to preserve, Draconians are completely photosynthetic and not only absorb energy for immoderate use and preservation, but heal faster, have their fire abilities fueled, and become more powerful in all aspects.

Like reptilian demons they usually just preserve this power for later, but are the most dependable fighters anywhere the sun shines as they don’t become relaxed and lethargic in the sunlight but much more aware.

Every year or after substantial damage is done to the body, Draconians will shed their scales and regrow nicer and sturdier scales to replace them.

Draconians tend to be very prideful since they are the same type as the royal bloodline—the original Draconians.

Like the beasts they’re named after, Draconian expect respect and adoration. They enjoy surrounding themselves with Golden and shiny things, gems, jewelry, expensive things and anything that enhances their charm and sense of authority.

Draconian’s are naturally more proficient in fire magic and typically do poorest with water magic though they’re able to become skilled in it too. Other magic they excel in are dark magic, curses, hexes, and voodoo, detection magic, summoning magic, mental manipulation, and seduction.

While their fire magic is exceedingly powerful, it will dull in colder temperatures.

Their natural abilities include heightened senses, accelerated healing, limb regrowth, powerful jumps, and fire resistance.

Unlike other cold blooded demons, the fire magic inside them keeps them warm enough to endure blizzards and freezes although they still feel the affects.

Draconian demons have a few quirky habits like slowly blinking, tilting their heads, flicking their tongues, hissing and lots of fidgeting.

Draconian types are generalized as upper class demons and haughty. They usually aim for high ranking jobs and political positions although due to their commonality, they can be found in every career although they prefer to avoid work they feel is demeaning or too demanding of them.

Known Draconians: Diavolo, Asmodeus, Mammon

Commonality: 9/10

Elemental

Elemental demons are very rare and possesses elemental features like rocky skin, twig horns, thorny tails, vine hair, etc.

Elemental demons are methodical and very in tune with their surroundings, allowing them to naturally adapt to social situations and blend in to a crowd.

Elemental demons’ personalities are reflected in their demon forms. A demon with a hostile personality may possesses rock like features or thorny tails, those with more wooden or nature related features are usually free spirited and down to earth, someone with fiery features are usually bold and outgoing, someone with ice features may be more introverted, etc.

Elementals are very rare and no two are exactly alike so not much can be determined about their physiology though it’s been shown they are proficient in the element reflected in their features.

Demons with earthen features will be proficient in earth magic, gravitational magic, strength enhancement, durability, defensive magic etc.

Demons with nature features will be more proficient in nature magic, growth and healing magic, energy magic, etc.

Demons with fire features will be proficient in fire magic, light magic, energy magic, offensive magic, etc.

Demons with water/ice features will be proficient in ice and water magic, blood magic, voodoo, positions, and empath magic.

Demons with shadow features will will be more proficient in dark magic, shadow magic, stealth magic, invisibility, etc.

Depending on their body they may shed leaves, replace and regrow bark and rocks, their fire may dim in cold months, their water may freeze in the cold, etc.

Elemental demons tend to gravitate towards more social and service related jobs. Although often seen as a powerful position, political positions are also a frequent option since they are meant to serve the public. Medical jobs are also a common choice.

Known Elementals: Satan

Commonality: .5/10

Deviant

A deviant demon has a form that does not fit into any specific category. Deviant types are extremely rare and named after such. These demons may have more or less than two horns, unusually physical abnormalities, and an undetermined representative animal. They are usually very powerful magic users and often appear as hybrids of known types.

Due to their rarity not much can be said about them other than they usually cause a stir when spotted and become famous more quickly due to their unique appearances and abilities.

Known Deviants: none

Commonality: (.02/10)

Lucifer

Lucifer is of the avian body type. He has four large black wings that are powerful enough to create gusts of wind and make him a very capable flier though he does not often use them to fly great distances.

Mammon

Mammon is of the draconian body type. Like other draconian demons he is resistant to fire and privy to fire magic. He is very energetic and due to lack of sunlight and crashes after using his energy instead of constantly being able to absorb more.

Leviathan

Leviathan may seem reptilian but he is of the aquatic type. Possessing defining gills and slick scales and a long tail that help him swim swiftly in the water he is the ultimate aquatic demon with extremely powerful water magic and command over sea life. His horns resemble coral that enable more stealth in the oceans.

Satan

Satan is of the elemental type. His tail relates to minerals and thorns as it is spiked and rock-hard. He is more capable of wielding fire rather than his body element of earth. This makes him somewhat of a deviant type.

Asmodeus

Asmodeus may have a scorpion as his representative but he bares stronger resemblance and characteristics of a draconian demon though this can be debated. Asmodeus has plentiful energy and four scaly wings which place him into this category. As someone who absorbs sunlight he does not easily tan or relax in it.

Beelzebub

Beelzebub is a fine example of an insectoid demon. His wings resemble of fly's wings but despite appearances they are not delicate and make him an incredibly fast flier, possibly the fastest of them. His wing scales sometimes shed and are replaced by stronger ones.

Belphegor

Belphegor is of the mammalian body type. He has a prickly cow tail which is very strong and fast, making it a powerful weapon to him. As a mammalian his magic is a little weaker but he is the strongest of the mammalian demons.

Barbatos

Barbatos is of the reptilian species. His bony horns represent the lost species of serpents like the one who tempted Eve. Despite being shaped like wings they by no means allow flight capabilities. His tail is forked and scaly and allows him to hang by it or easily tear things down with it. The scales are much smoother than the average reptilian which is useful for swimming. Barbatos was once considered a deviant type which is fitting for his magic and distinct characteristics but he was later evaluated as reptilian.

Diavolo

Diavolo is of the draconian body type just as all the proceeding kings were. The draconian type is held in high regard due to being a signature trait of the royal family. Diavolo has four large wings connected at the back and sharp talons which he covers with golden sheaths to prevent accidental harm and damage to his surroundings. He is very energetic and Fire is his strongest elemental magic type. Due to his status he can freely visit the human world and make use of his absorption abilities

[dfortrafalgar]

Special Delivery

(Sanji x Fem!Reader- Offscreen)

Sanji reaches out to Zeff for the first time in years.

I wrote this many, many months ago now, and it was the first fic i posted anonymously on AO3. I got a few requests after it was originally posted to write a second part, which I eventually did!

You can read Part 2 here! Original AO3 link

(I figured I should let my blog breathe a little in between the really heavy and emotional Law fic im writing, and what better way to cool down than some sanji fluff <3)

A sharp squawk awoke Red-Leg Zeff from his daze. With a grumpy expression and a low grunt, he peered towards the direction of the sound.

A messenger coo was seated on the railing of the Baratie's upper deck next to where Zeff stood slouched over with his forearms leaning against the wooden support. It cocked its head to the side as if it was deconstructing Zeff's appearance before reaching into its pouch and procuring a parchment envelope. Zeff found it strange. Messenger coos only usually delivered the newspapers or the latest bounty reports, very rarely were they put in charge of personalized letters. It must have been paid off by whoever wanted this delivered.

The gruff man took the parchment from the beak of the bird and watched as it took back off into the air, leaving a few molted white feathers behind in its wake. He looked at the envelope.

All it said on the front, in very elegant handwriting, was "Captain Zeff." He flipped the paper around, revealing a wax stamp holding the opening down, which he peeled off with a calloused thumb.

Tucked neatly inside the envelope was a white piece of paper, tri-folded over itself. Zeff slipped the paper out, unfolding it to reveal the written contents of the letter. The penmanship was impeccable, and the ink was very sleek. He knew immediately it was from Sanji, not many other pirates had handwriting as good as his. He had completely lost track of how many years it had been since the curly-browed boy left with that ragtag group of pirates to sail to the Grand Line, but Zeff had every single one of his bounty posters. He'd never admit it, but they were tacked up on the wall of his sleeping quarters. Every time Sanji's bounty increased, Zeff felt pride swell in his heart.

"How are you doing, you old geezer. It's been a little too long since we've had any contact, so I thought I'd write to you just to see how you've been. You're no slouch, I'm sure you've been keeping up with the world's events over the past however-many years. Do the Marines even bother to keep sending our bounty posters to the Baratie anymore? Well, regardless, I'm sure you can read right through me. I can't deny it, I miss you, old man. I'm happier than I've ever been in my life, and such a huge part of that is thanks to you and the guys back on that old cruiser. Every recipe I try to make, I imagine you screaming in my ear and telling me that it tastes like shit. Some days I really wish I could be back there, but most of the time I'm joyful. Life has been really, really good. A few years ago, I met someone. Last year, we got married, and soon after our lives changed so drastically. She's the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on, and she's as sweet as an angel. I mean it, too. I know you'd probably think something along the lines of me playing up my affections again just because she's a pretty woman, but I mean it. You'd love her, Zeff. Living as a pirate is the most stressful thing anyone could ever do, but she makes every day worth it. The crew was discussing the possibility of returning to the East Blue a bit ago, and when we do, I'm going to introduce you to her. I've spent the last years talking all about you, how you taught me everything I know about cooking, and I can tell she's just as excited as I am to finally see you. This letter's gone on long enough and I don't want to use up all of Nami's paper.

-- Sanji"

Zeff felt a lump in the back of his throat. Sanji had grown into such a fine young man, eloquent with his words and his feelings. He knew how big of a deal it was for the boy to be so honest and open. But one thing in the letter caught him off guard. What did he mean by, "Soon after our lives changed drastically."?

Zeff peered into the envelope, where another, smaller envelope was tucked inside. He almost didn't see it. Pulling it out, he held the letter and original envelope in between his fingers while he opened the second. Sanji was thorough with his packaging, that's for sure.

Inside, there were three photographs printed on thin, matted paper. The first was of Sanji and you, the wife he wrote about in his letter, taken by someone else holding the camera. Sanji had his arm around you, holding you against him, and you had your face nuzzled into his neck. His other hand held a cigarette away from the two of you, like he was in the middle of telling a story. The two of you were smiling brighter than the sun, Sanji's eyes completely closed with the motion of laughter, and yours creased, your irises looking up towards him.

The second photo made Zeff's eyes water. A photo of you and Sanji on the deck of the Sunny, exchanging rings. Sanji was wearing a sleek navy blue tuxedo, while you were wearing a gorgeous white ballgown. For pirates, you cleaned up phenomenally. He could just make out tears in Sanji's eyes as the photo displayed you sliding a band onto his finger. A skeleton with poofy hair stood between the two of you, which Zeff found a little odd, but he chuckled at the absurdity of it all.

Zeff flipped to the last photo.

The tears that were welling in his eyes from the previous image finally slid down his cheeks in heavy, salty droplets. His lip quivered.

Sanji sat in a chair, beaming down at a bundle of cloth held gently in his arm. He was crying in this photo as well, and was reaching a finger over the top of the bundle, where a smaller hand was reaching outwards to grab onto it. A small glimpse of blonde hair could be made out from under the cloth securing the baby tightly. On the back of the film, Sanji wrote the birth date and the name of the baby.

Zeff used a sleeve to wipe his blubbering eyes. His lips quivered, but he couldn't help the smile that broke out on his face.

Was he allowed to call himself a grandfather now? He figured it was only appropriate.

[leighsartworks216]

Hello! I have ideas for Astarion and a druid Tav. Atv can shapeshift, and Astarion likes to sit in/enjoy the sun. Once they're close enough, Tav asks if they can use him as a basking perch. So sometimes Astarion will have a dog or cat in his lap, sometimes a snake around his shoulders, or even once a bird nesting in his hair (Tav was scouting and got too tired to shift back).

For some angst Tav could be injured while in animal form or stuck in one by magic and so Astarion takes them back to camp and keeps Tav close until they recover and can turn back.

It is almost 1:30am haha I need to go to bed

I also wrote this in 3rd person pov for no reason other than I felt it worked a little better

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 693

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Soft purrs fill the morning air. The sun is warm, and where Astarion sits on his rug is the first spot her rays touch every morning. And every morning, he cherishes the time he had left within it.

One hand runs idly along soft fur, while the other holds open a book. Every now and then, his pets slow down as the story becomes interesting, but he makes up for it with a gentle scratch behind the ears.

This was also part of his morning routine. Several weeks ago, the intrepid leader of their group began joining him on his rug in the morning. They asked first, of course, and they never bothered him. It was rather nice, actually. They’d read their own book or prepare herbs or even braid together a flower crown.

A week later, they had taken to shifting into an animal form and stretching out within the beams. They usually fell asleep like that. And once again, he didn’t mind. Their feline purrs were never grating or overwhelming, and even as a dog they had the decency not to drool on his stuff. The occasional snake or bird would warm themselves on a rock or perch nearby with their beak tucked under their wing. It was always a little fun to guess which animal they’d turn into each day.

And then they asked if they could lay in his lap. He’d scrunched his face up at the idea, asking why his lap was suddenly better than the rug. They’d just claimed it was hard to get comfortable lately, but they didn’t push to ask again. That day, they’d curled up in Karlach’s lap. They couldn’t sleep, because the tiefling was so busy gushing over how soft and adorable they were, and Astarion couldn’t focus on his embroidery because he’d become so used to their presence - Karlach’s noise level aside. So the next day he sighed and told them they could lay in his lap.

Now, it was so embedded into his mornings, he felt wrong without an animal on or near him. Cat or dog in his lap, snake or bird on his shoulders - he just needed something. He truly never realized just how nice petting an animal could be - even a druid disguised as one. They always thanked him afterward, though he found he wanted to thank them, too.

The sun’s rays slowly shifted. Warm, concentrated beams diffusing as it continued to rise into the mid-morning. The cat in his lap heaved a long sigh and rose to their paws. He watched as they stepped out from his crossed legs and along the rug, stretching with each step until they sat down nearby. The cat transformed back into a humanoid druid that yawned and stretched out their arms.

“Thanks,” they murmured.

Astarion chuckled. “Still tired? You’re even worse than Gale.”

They made a sound that almost sounded like a chuckle, if it was stretched and morphed by a sleepy sigh. “What can I say? Your lap is extremely comfortable.”

“I’ll add it to my list of remarkable qualities.” His head tilted as he studied them. Their shoulders drooped, their back was hunched, they rubbed their eyes, and stifled another yawn. “You look fit to collapse.”

They breathed out a long sigh. Their eyes were heavy with bags under them, staring blankly across the camp. So much to do, so little time, but Astarion was right. They wouldn’t be able to hold a half-decent conversation, let alone fight.

Astarion pat his lap, an open invitation. “I’m sure they would understand. Another day won’t kill us - hopefully.”

“How reassuring,” they muttered, but they were already shrinking back down once more into a cat. They lumbered over and curled back up, purring incessantly as they gave in to their exhaustion.

He stroked down their back again, lightly scratching along their spine. Their coat shone in the light. He wondered when the hell he’d let them get so damn close.

He sighed, allowing the mystery to fade to the back of his mind, and lifted his book once more, finding where he left off and reading on. Yeah, one day wouldn’t hurt.

---

Tag List:

@hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @phantoms-fandom-blog @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 42

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: I've had a headache every day this week. I swear I want one good day.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You sit on the sofa, the bird still firmly perched on your shoulder. Bragi shows you the twelve-string, strumming lightly between stories about his travel abroad. Laufeyson glowers as he sits in the high-backed chair recently cleared of its clutter. The stout blond is quite talkative, it makes you wonder why your boss even brought you here.

"I'll be playing at Walpurgisnacht, so you will see me tomorrow," Bragi stands and places the guitar in a stand among several other stringed instruments, "perhaps Fossegrim will come too... he likes to sneak into my bag."

The bird squawks and tilts up and down.

"Likes you too," Bragi remarks. "Not as fond as your companion, I'm afraid."

Laufeyson shifts with a huff, "shall we continue to ramble? I did come for a reason."

"I nearly forgot," Bragi declares, "you requested it so long ago I nearly forgot."

"Yes, well, I left in a hurry my last visit and could not drop by, my apologies," Laufeyson rises and dusts off his trousers.

"Right, up in my office."

They leave you without much regard. You set aside your empty cup as Fossegrim rests his beak against your hair. He is rather big, your shoulder is sore from his weight, and yet he is comforting. You sit straight and hold out your fingers shyly. He bends to touch them and dips his head. You pet his feathers, uncertain what to do with yourself.

You hear a thump from above and a grunt. You look up as the bird hops down to the cushion. You rub your hands together and stay as you are. You don't want to intrude, besides, the place is so crowded, there isn't much space to move. 

At last, you hear the stairs creak and the men's voices precede their reappearance. Laufeyson holds a wrapped parcel under his arm as a shank of hair hangs past his ear, dangling along his cheek before he sweeps it back. You wonder what happened.

"Sorry about the rug," Bragi chuckles as he scratches his neck.

"Yes, not to worry," Laufeyson dismisses, "as it were," he looks at his watch, "my mother will be less impressed with our delay."

"You will send my regards," Bragi smirks crookedly.

"I will let her know we saw you," he retorts, "let us be off."

He waves you over. You say goodbye to Bragi as you cross the room and the parrot wings over your head, rustling your hair as he lands on the banister post once more. He lets out a chitter and receives a hush from his owner.

"Best go before he grows more obnoxious."

You offer a tight smile as Mr. Laufeyson opens the door and you step outside. It's dark and the moon beams down brightly. You silently descend the steps and near the car. He doesn't say a word as he unlocks the door and you climb in opposite him.

He starts the car and steers onto the street without a word. You feel as if you've done something terribly wrong. You look at your lap and drag your sweat palms over your skirt.

"We need to be very clear about things, pet," he begins as the leather squeaks beneath his grip, "tomorrow, you must stay close to me. No more breaking the rules."

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson. I'm sorry--"

"Do you remember the rules? That I asked you to be honest with me," he hisses, "yes? I know you recall, you are brighter than you look, aren't you?" He slaps the wheel, "if you need... time, or anything, you can tell me. You must tell me otherwise... otherwise how can our arrangement work? If I am ignorant of what you require, how can I provide it? You cannot be upset that I do not know."

"I... I'm not upset," you murmur.

"Yes, but if you were upset," he exhales heavily, "then I would like to know the reason for it. I--" He stops himself and shakes his head at the road, "I am only saying, if there is some issue between us, you cannot merely run away and hide."

"I didn't--"

"Yes, yes, you were reading," he cuts in, "I do hope you enjoyed your little story."

"It won't happen again, Mr. Laufeyson," you avow.

He takes a deep breath, "that's all?"

"I... I'm not upset, I said, I only..." you mull the words on your tongue, wondering if they'll even matter. "I've never been far from home."

He nods as he slows, idling at a sign, "very well."

You accept his response as he accepts yours. Tension lingers but neither of you wants to add to the boiling stew. So you look out the window and he glares out the windshield, driving on in repressed agitation.

✨

Mr. Laufeyson leaves you alone that night, bidding you to keep the door locked and nothing else. You know for certain he's unhappy with you. You've already put a damper Walpurgisnacht and it's not even begun.

You sit in the small cone of light cast by the lamp and try to read but find the task impossible. So you tuck away Jane and her troubles and lay down to sink into your own. You don't see the next day going well at all. No better than any that have come before.

Perhaps it might be better if you found a reason not to be there. You could keep the white dress on the hanger and just stay inside where you can't do anything wrong. No one would miss you very much.

It's Frigga's celebration and you aren't an Odinson, no one would know any better. Mr. Laufeyson would be free to enjoy himself and not worry about you irritating him. That's all you seem to do.

Your eyes close heavily and you tumble down into a turbulent sleep. Dread colours your dreams and wakes you several times in the grim hues of the moonlight. The fitful night drags on into a dull morning, shining over you until it sears through your eyelids.

Walpurgisnacht. April 30th. A day that feels like a page turning.

You sit up and sift slowly through the early hours as if wading through sand. You wash and ready in the bathroom, ignoring the memories of two nights ago, the echoes of your whines, and the coiling of his touch. Now, he won't even use you. This could be it. When you leave this place, you may also be departing this life. It might just be for the better.

The event doesn't begin until the afternoon. Frigga said as much before. So you pull on a pair of tan pants and a peachy shirt. You near the door but don't flip back the lock. You should wait for a cue. For permission.

You stand at the window and watch the day bloom. The dew gleams on the leaves and petals and the air is fragrant with spring. Oddly, it does feel refreshing.

There's a soft tap, one you're not certain you heard. You turn and lean on the window ledge and hug yourself. It comes again followed by your name. Mr. Laufeyson's voice is just as even-keeled as the night before. Empty of any expression. That's worse to you than anger.

You emerge, head down, and bid him a good morning. You're met by a curt 'morning' and he ushers you down the hall. You smell bacon as you descend and the crackle of grease hisses in a pan. You walk side-by-side with Laufeyson out onto the veranda.

Odin sits, stirring a cup of coffee with a silver spoon.

"Ah, good morning," he chimes, "Joyous Walpurgisnacht!"

"Yes, happy day," Laufeyson intones and sits. You take the seat at his shoulder.

Your attention is drawn by men in work clothes out in the yard. They must be setting up for the celebration. You wonder how you should ask to excuse yourself from the event. You might pretend to be unwell. You don't entirely feel great.

"Happy Walpurgisnacht!" A thunderous boom makes you jump and grab Laufeyson's arm. He merely groans as Thor approaches and drags out a chair, dropping down with a sigh, "father, brother... lady, isn't it a wonderful morning?"

"Son," Odin squints at his son's open shirt, his chest shamelessly bare to the sunlight.

"Mmm, coffee," Thor pours from the carafe then adds a handful of sugar cubs to his cup. Laufeyson helps himself to tea before offering you some with a twitch of the spout. You accept with a nod and a please.

"Coffeeeeee," an echo drawls in the air as Hela strides in, chewing a strip of bacon absconded from the kitchen.

"Ghostly as ever, sister," Thor guffaws.

"Ugh, must you?" She snarls as she slumps into a chair, "ew, do those buttons not work?"

Thor smiles as he looks down at his torso, "it's warm."

"Or maybe it's the hot air stuck in your head," she retorts.

"Children," Odin rebuffs, "please, it is a holiday. Let's try to get along."

Laufeyson says nothing as he sips from his tea. You peek at him, finding his eyes narrowly set on his father. Another twinge pinches in your chest. You hope you haven't made things worse between them.

"Oh, we are all here already," Frigga flutters in, canary fabric swishing around her, "wonderful."

"Wife," Odin outstretches an arm and she goes to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Mother," the siblings murmur in unison as you eke out her name.

"We will begin breakfast soon, I just checked with the staff, it is almost ready, but first," she pokes her elegant nail in the air, "there is one matter I need attend to. It won't take very long at all."

She smiles at Odin as he returns the sweet expression, then her eyes meet yours. Her cheeks pinken just a little. She sweeps away and disappears through the open doors. You hear her trill as she speaks to the staff.

"She is up to something," Hela slithers.

Laufeyson hums in agreement.

"Father," Thor peers over at Odin as he brushes his fingertips over his beard.

Odin shrugs, "I haven't any idea."

"Liar," Hela accuses, "you are not so sly as you think."

"I swear--"

"He definitely knows," Thor insists, "Loki, doesn't he? You see it, can't you?"

"I suppose..." Laufeyson squints and lets his voice dissolve into nothing.

"Here we go..." you hear Frigga chime before she appears again, "happy birthday to you..."

The song begins as two maids carry between them a double-tiered cake decorated with perfect white dollops of icing topped with raspberries. Your stomach gurgles and your chest racks as you sit up, caught in headlights as Thor and Odin join in on the melody but Hela and Laufeyson merely lean forward curiously. You gulp and look down at your lap.

As Frigga leads the chorus into your name, your shoulders slope and you turn your face away, tears stinging your eyes. How could she know? As nice as it all is, it's too much. You don't deserve any of this.

"Birthday..." you hear Laufeyson whisper quizzically.

You brace the armrests and push yourself to your feet as the song ends and the cakes placed before you. Your lips tremble as you look around the table. You can barely squeak out your apology before you flee, Frigga's hand glancing off yours as she tries to stop you.

You hurry away from the veranda, hurtling up the path blindly. You plunge into the brush and around the curving trails, retracing the same route Odin led you the day before. You clamour up to the gazebo and hide within, collapsing onto a bench as you fold over and shield your head.

Why would she do it? You don't matter! It's all too much. You don't want to pretend anymore. You don't want to act like you belong. You want them to let you go. You want Laufeyson to just do it already and throw you away.

You sit, bent over, weak and shaking, just breathing, paralysed. You hunch amid the songs of birds and the rippling of water. You can't move. You just want to stay and never come out.

A scuff makes you flinch. You lift your head to look over as a shadow steps into the archway. You raise yourself up straight and face Mr. Laufeyson.

"I didn't know it's your birthday," he says.

You don't say anything. Why would you tell him? Why would he care?

He lowers his chin, sliding his hands into his pockets as he steps into the stone structure, "if I'd known--"

"It doesn't matter," you say, "it's just another day."

"Mm, well..." he begins in a fragile tone, "I wouldn't agree. Birthdays are special..."

"Not mine," you pout.

His cheek ticks and bows his head, nodding as he thinks, "but... my mother did try to make it special..." he chews on his lip as he looks at you, "she's worried."

"She shouldn't care so much. She isn't my mother."

"But she is a good mother," he argues, "and she only wanted to include you."

"And I'm just as ungrateful as my father said," you sniff, "I'm sure you'd agree."

"I don't."

"Sure. It's why you left me alone all night. It's why you were so mad that I dare read a book. I know, Mr. Laufeyson, I know."

"Know what?"

You huff and cross your arms.

"I know better," you stand and jut your chin out. "I broke the rules again, I'm sorry."

"The rules... that isn't-- why are you being like this?"

"Like what?" You challenge. 

"Please, I didn't come to lecture me--"

"I know the rules. I remember. I will be good," you drop your arms and force your spine straight, "I will apologise to Frigga and thank her. You're right. You're always right. I was wrong."

You go to step past him and he catches your arm, pulling you to face him, "stop."

"Mr. Laufeyson, is that not what you want? For me to be good? I'm sorry I made you look bad. I only... was surprised," you carefully measure your voice and force a smile, "tell me what to do, Mr. Laufeyson and I will obey."

His brows slant and he swallows tightly. He squeezes your wrist then releases you, "apologise," he breathes, "say thank you."

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson," you reply and march through the door, "whatever you wish."

You keep your gait steady and set. He follows behind you and catches up. You return to the veranda in curdling silence. As the rest look up at you, you gather what's left of your strength.

"I'm sorry," you say, "I was only surprised and I... panicked."

"Dear, it's okay, I should've warned you," Frigga coos.

"I really appreciate it," you sit as Laufeyson pulls out your chair, "really..." you look at the pink cake, "I never had a birthday cake before."

As the words escape, you clamp your lips shut. It's only the silence that makes you realise how pathetic that must sound. You put your chin down and try to hide your embarrassment.

"Of course, dear," Frigga fills the dead air, "would you like to cut the first piece?”

[spookyserenades]

Trouvaille - Chapter One

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

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. 

“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. 

“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. 

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”.

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.

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.

Taglist; @blancflms @grazysf @sbromp @jaxavance @sunderlight @ot7nem @mageprincess7 @wittyreader @drenix004 @mayla548 @skyys-universe

Please do not repost or translate my work. Thank you!

[logo-ssspathosss]

team bolas rojas gas masks designs??

in THIS day and age?????

it may be more likely than you think..

this was my first time drawing a series of different gas masks, no idea if they’re accurate at all, but it was really fun!!

**notes & closeups under the cut :-D**

it’s a lot of notes so be prepared for an info dump.

NOTES:

Philza: honestly, what more is there to say than “CROW MAN!!”? aside from his goggles being glow-in-the-dark, theres not much more to the mask design. however, i decided, “hey! this is purgatory! i can fuck up these characters!” so, he has a ripped ear(?)wing and messily cut back hair. (i didn’t pay too much attention to the hair in this design, i was mainly trying to get the gas masks down, but maybe i’ll go further into later.)

Cellbit: this is definitely one of my favorites, he looks pretty scary, i would NOT stop my car if i saw him on the side of the road. its based off of a cat mask(obviously) and a painted white streak goes through his mask, inspired by his hair. i didn’t include it, but circles in the goggles are supposed to retract with different emotions (kind of how cat’s eyes do, saucer and dagger pupils.) he’s also covered in blood because he’s going through it lore wise.

Slimecicle: ngl, it was my first time drawing code charlie(other than all the wips i have that i’ll never finish),but i think he’s pretty spooky. his mask is the worst quality, like it USED to work well until he wore it out. thus, there are broken air tubes that let the gas in. (he should probably get those replaced.) the holes for his horns are kind of like an airlock, so the gas can’t enter through them (phil helped him make it.) however, it makes it difficult to take off.

Baghera: baghera’s mask is kind of built like charlie’s, except in much better quality. aside from the loose air tubes, the mask almost goes all the way around her head, not letting even the slightest bit of gas in. theres also a plastic duck beak on top of the regular breathy-thing(i have no idea what i’m doing, so, no, i don’t know the technical term for that) to give it the “bird touch.”

Jaiden: jaiden’s mask was FUN. like i kinda went overboard. i did these all on different days, and this was the night after the big egg battle day. i saw she had fnaf bonnie ears along with her bird gas mask, and said “ok cool. i’ll add that.” she has the same feather/beak thing i gave to baghera. also, hair-wise, she gets a hair bun and her brown roots showing through(we love messy haired cubitos ^^)

Foolish: foolish was interesting, not sure i like the final product, but i’m tired, so it’ll do. his mask is based off of a lemon shark. he gas glowing green eyes and golden splotches on the leather. the air tube foolish has is REALLY long. like unnaturally long. so he wraps it around his neck to get it out of the way. the other members are extremely concerned it’ll choke him one day, but foolish thinks it’s cool and will scare other teams away. kind of like a “yea, i’m crazy, i could choke and die at any minute, and i don’t care.” phil, being the protective father figure of the group, does not like this at all.

Carre: and finally, we have carre. ah, sweet, sweet carre.(he is my favorite.) his mask is based off of a snow leopard because i hc he’s half feline. carre has the lightest, and most simple mask, since it’s entirely plastic, and more so based off of skiing or snowboarding goggles.

ANYWAY, i hope these notes make sense, excuse my rambling about silly designs, i tend to doodle messily, and not really have a plan when i draw, lol.

thanks for reading, BYE!

[baby-jaguar]

TF 141: Owl Hybrid HCS

Hi! I'm alive, just working on several things at once so my writing output is slow. This may be too niche but I've been thinking about this too much and wanted to share. Yes, I will be coming out with a Price x reader hybrid fic and this kinda sets the tone for it. I hope you enjoy!

A group of owls is called a parliament.

No warnings. There are some 141 x reader bits as well

PRICE: Blakiston’s Fish Owl

Price is a big bird, and is the largest in terms of body weight and wingspan comparisons. His wings take up a majority of his space when on the ground and in his human form. His feathers are monochromatic with brown and tan, his broad and ragged ear tufts start on his temple and hang slightly to the side- still perfectly seen and sticking out when he wears his boonie hat.

The scars on his neck mark a historic battle between him and a foe. His damage? His vocal chords.

This man has a deep hoot that now sounds like a scratchy croak most nights. He feels self-conscious about it after the damage that occurred but will use it to startle or scare enemies mostly. 

If you ask to hear his hoot he gets flustered.

Being the alpha predator, he is very territorial. Not so much over his nest or room, but rather his parliament. Over the others, he tends to take care of them as a stand-in father figure that none of them have. With his big form and feathers, you can find either of the sergeants nestled into his chest like the pillow Price is.

Playing with his ear tufts is a dangerous game, as your hand will either be pecked at or he’ll give you nesting eyes depending on his mood.

Loves fish, and will even eat it raw if his owl sense is craving it.

His species spends an unusual amount of time on the ground and prefers to travel as humans do when applicable. 

When fishing, he prefers to do so as his breed does. Dive in and catch the fish himself.

Likes to nest in tight spaces (that mimic hollow trees). Will make a fort between a plethora of cushions and blankets to hide within.

GHOST: Great Gray Owl

While Ghost is the largest member of 141, in his owl form, he almost doubles in size due to his plumage. The Great Gray has fluffy feathers and the longest tail, making him all the more threatening

He is not the type to build nests, but will often steal nests of others. He’s been found in Price’s nests when the Captain leaves for office work or has been known to crash into Soap's nest with no care to the men squawking

He’s vain to a fault. Will always preen himself in private, and the one time you pulled a cracked feather he immediately blushed snatched it from your hand, and left in a hurry to make sure there were no others

Once you got to really get close to him, he would let you do it for him.

Absolutely loses it when you call him pretty bird.

You also got him to parrot it back to you once and he almost cried with embarrassment.

Also has a deep hoot, but his come in shorter and quicker successions. 

These owls, much like Ghost, are hard to find. They tend to keep to themselves and blend into their surroundings by remaining still. There is minimal aggression in terms of territory, but when the 141 parliament is threatened, his talons are ready to maul.

SOAP: Barn Owl

Have you heard a Barn Owls call? It can get really annoying or is beyond terrifying.

Soap’s subspecies is the T. a. Guttata; He is large for his species while having grey and orange upperparts with an orange buff. He has speckling to his underpart feathers, and his face is white.

Will sometimes take naps in a roost of his choosing (supply closet, rafters of the gym) but does tend to make his own nest when needing a deep and comfortable sleep after a good meal or long mission. 

Makes a fuss when Ghost crashes his nest. He hisses and snaps his beak at the large hybrid but shuts up when he gets to nestle under his wings.

Soap bonded with Ghost over his species being known as the “Ghost Owl” to some, but also that they have a similar lay of face feathers.

Soap is a curious hybrid in nature, and not always defensive when a different species (or human) is interacting with 141. The first time he met you, his wings splayed out while he looked you over - too closely.

While looking at your dog tags (or any other jewelry) he accidentally beat his wing feathers on your face.

You lost your balance and spooked him, causing him to hiss at you. And beat you over the head with his wing, again.

He is very cuddly when on base, likes to be by your side, and at least has his wing draped on you if it's movie night.

GAZ: Great Horned Owl 

One of Gaz’s strong suits is his ability to camouflage. His feathers comprise a darker brown and even darker, complex markings across. He does have a patch of white feathers on his throat when fully shifted, and people make jokes that it's as if he wears a button-up shirt.

He has the classic owl hoot, and will often use it as comedic relief if a joke doesn't land. It is the most calming and subtle of the group, so he will often use it to find the other members while on base.

His eyes are big. Can give you the sweetest looks without saying anything, and is an absolute heartmelter when his tired eyes show in the daytime.

Like Price, he has tufts on the side of his head but are much smaller in comparison. They do as well peak out from under his cap.

He can adapt to the heat of the desert easily, and if in the Sonoran Desert again, he likes to sit in the sun to warm up.

Gaz does nest, but his is a bit wild and messy in terms of blankets and pillows strewn about when doing so. He doesn't need much, but when in his nesting season he can become aggressive and grumpy.

Price jokes that he can be like a parrot. Somewhat playful but has a tolerance when being preened at by the Captain himself.

Has nipped Price before.

Gaz keeps his talons well-maintained. He lost one in a fight before, and now takes excellent care of them. 

When he becomes fond of you, he will snag you by the arms and fly you in the air with him. Very cautious to not hurt you!

He one time made a nest high up in the rafters in the base but fell out of it and onto the ground when Ghost caught him sleeping.

~~~~~~

Cannot stop imagining Price's owl with a boonie hat on top. Like PLEASE. So cute and deadly.

[puddleorganism]

Pondering a new rancher au (yes the giant fucking bird is Jimmy) - rambling/explanation under the cut

[Image IDs:

ID 1: a digital drawing of Jimmy/SolidarityGaming and TangoTek, in which Jimmy is a massive approximately 20 foot/6 meter tall bird-like creature. He’s standing idly (to show off his design) with a nervous smile on his face. He has a long neck and long legs that make him look like a dinosaur, but he is covered in light golden-brown feathers and has wings. His wings are huge, the primaries/tips sticking out behind his back. They’re modeled after a turkey vulture’s wings. He’s got a grey hooked beak that is mostly covered in feathers. He’s also got long tail feathers that look just short of skimming the ground. His legs are dark grey with huge talons. All over his legs, wing tips, and tail feathers is a dark grey ash. Tango’s sitting cross-legged on his back/shoulders, hunched over and looking at one of those map books you usually have in your car. (Note: the next image is of Tango, so to avoid redundancy I’m going to describe his appearance better there.) /End ID 1

ID 2: a digital drawing of TangoTek, a humanoid with fire for hair and a long, thin tail tipped in fire; like how a lion’s is tipped with fur. He’s standing idly (again, to show off his design) with his hands in his pockets. He’s got light tan skin with freckles on his nose and wrist. He’s got what look to be black scales on his ears - which are long and pointed - cheeks and nose that have glowing orange cracks in them like burning wood. He’s wearing a red handkerchief over his nose and mouth and has red-tinted goggled pushed up on his forehead. He’s wearing an off-white sweater, a worn leather jacket with red accents, grey cargo pants and black boots. He also has a pale gold and brown messenger bag slung over his left (the viewer’s right) shoulder and back behind his arm. He’s also got two scuffed, worn pins on his jacket; a small, round yellow one and a tiny polyamory flag. He’s also covered in ash - even more so than Jimmy - to the point where his boots, sweater, and handkerchief are stained with it, and are almost more grey than their original colors.

ID 3: simple digital sketches of the above characters. From left to right they are: Jimmy laying down with his head bowed, and Tango standing on his tiptoes to lean against Jimmy’s head. Both their eyes are closed and their foreheads are pressed together. The next is of Tango with his goggles on and looking confused at the map book, which is folded in half in his hands. Jimmy is leaning over his shoulder to look at the map as well. Two question marks float by Tango’s head. The last is of Jimmy standing upright, one of his talons held up near his chest. In his talons he’s holding Tango who seems surprised and is kind of doing that thing that cats do when you pick them up under the arms. This sketch is captioned with the word “hold”. There’s also a small bit of wing from a drawing that’s been cropped out in the corner. /End ID 3

/End IDs]

Ok rambling time!

So it’s set in a that was similar to the modern day, but after in a post-apocalyptic world (recent enough that they both would’ve known the world before). Not a zombie apocalypse or anything, though. There may be Foes but probably not.

I’m not exactly sure what the apocalypse that happened actually is yet, but it’s left the world an ash-covered wasteland with few ruins and even fewer survivors (survivors being organisms in general, not just humans). I want the landscape to be kind of surreal and bizarre, but I haven’t decided if that’s because of the apocalypse or not. Maybe it was just Like That lol.

Anyway, one thing you may want to know more about, is why the hell is Jimmy a giant bird? And the answer is: I like giant birds. In all seriousness though, he’s cursed! Don’t know why. He was a normal ass dude. Now he’s a bird.

Tango might also be cursed? Depends on how edgy I end up wanting this to be lol. He might be an undead wraith or something who knows.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Jack, Malleus: Beasts, us Both

Alright, TWST... you friggin' troll 😭 You got me good with those Jack frames... No wolf inspo reveal, I see how it is-- 😂

Because of the angle we're staring at the image from... that macaron Jack is holding looks like a massive GMO green grape… AM I JUST SEEING GRAPES EVERYWHERE BECAUSE OF R*LLO... This would mark the first Disney100 art with some notable changes (how he’s holding the macaron and the angle he’s bending at), most likely to make it look better for a card layout.

A Tale as Old as Time.

A young lion prince and his hornbill attendant were captured in a photo frame. With finger-like feathers, the bird had plucked a strand of fur from the large cat. He lacked amusement, beak poised in a manner that suggested a light telling-off. The cub, for his part, looked upset at the lecture.

That’s right, lions don’t grow their manes out until they’re older.

Jack sometimes forgot that—with his dorm leader prowling around, the most prominent image he had of a lion was that of Leona. Strong, cunning, and self-assured. Nothing like the prince in the painting.

“How cute,” a low voice drawled. “To think that Kingscholar too was once this small and helpless… Fufufu.”

Jack’s eyes cut to the tall, dark man next to him. With long limbs and regal horns protruding from his head, Malleus Draconia resembled a gazelle.

“It’s hard to imagine Leona-senpai like that,” Jack awkwardly confessed. “I met his nephew once, but that only took me more out of it. He was… energetic and bright.”

“Implying that Kingscholar is lacking in energy and a cheerful disposition?” Malleus smirked. “Ah, yes. Much change occurs between childhood and adulthood, some of it attributed to social influences. That child had best be cautious. Perhaps Kingscholar’s attitude will rub off on him, smothering that sunshine.”

“Leona-senpai has his good points too!” Jack blurted out. He didn’t catch himself in time—the words just came, a reverberating bark in the museum.

“Oh? You’re rather quick to defend him.”

The wolf beastman gasped and reeled himself back in. “Y-You don’t see it because you’re not in Savanaclaw, but I can tell… Leona-senpai cares about his students a lot. He’s looking out for us in his own way.”

“Such as when he attempted to have me trampled?” Malleus suggested, his tone quiet yet challenging. “I do so fondly remember that.”

“Urk!!” Jack’s ears flattened. “He does take it too far sometimes. I don’t agree with everything he does. The idea of doing everything you can to protect others, though… that’s something I can understand.”

"It is?”

The first year nodded firmly. “There are stories about wolves working together to chase off invaders who wandered into their snowy territory. Once, a wolf family even took in an orphaned kid. I have my own younger siblings to look after, too.”

“It appears as though you and your ancestors feel a strong sense of duty to your packs,” Malleus noted. Something akin to amusement danced in his eyes. It quickly flickered out, giving way to a deep melancholy. “Family… Hmm. I cannot say I can relate. I have no siblings to speak of. There is my grandmother, but she is my only living relative."

There was a shift—a small, imperceptible change in Jack's stoic face.

"... Sorry to hear that."

"Think nothing of it." Malleus waved a dismissive hand. "The circumstances are as they are. We cannot rewind the threads of fate, only weave new ones.

"Still, it is strange. I have not had the chance to meet my mother nor my father. They were already gone long before my hatching. I should feel no attachment to such strangers. Even so, I feel as though something is missing without them."

He gave a dark chuckle, curling fingers over his heart. "Perhaps there is a part of me that longs for that kind of a family, too."

Jack frowned. His chest throbbed with a dull pain.

“That's..."

Sad.

No brothers, no sisters. No parents, not even aunts or uncles or cousins. Just one big, empty castle, and the creature caged inside of it.

Pacing past ruined wings, furniture strewn about as if a mad beast had run through it in a frenzy. The space filled with loneliness, a hollow feeling that couldn't be fended off.

He shuffled his feet. Resolve slowly solidified. Jack reached for his voice.

"... I don't think you need to worry, Malleus-senpai. You still have people who care about you. Family isn’t all in the blood." Jack bashfully rubbed at the back of his neck, his eyes averted. "It's in the bonds too."

He gestured to the painting before them. "The lion prince lost his dad, the previous king. In grief, he ran away from home--but he still had friends that guided him when he was lost and scared. A warthog, a meerkat, a baboon, a hornbill, the lionesses in his pride. They all came together to show the prince he was loved and needed. Because of that, he was able to come home with his head held high."

Jack clenched a hand into a fist, offering a stiff smile. "Family's something that everyone has, one way or another. They're the ones who always have your back, blood or not.”

Malleus’s face momentarily lit up with surprise.

“My, I didn’t expect to hear such a motivational speech from you. I hear from Sebek that you’re quite standoffish.”

“D-Don’t get me wrong!!” he sputtered, face heating. “On any given day, I’d tackle things on my own. But doing that all the time is pointless.”

“Which is why you choose to follow Kingscholar’s leadership?” Malleus asked teasingly. “You seem to admire him a great deal and acknowledge him as the leader of your pack here at Night Raven College.”

“N-No!!” Jack snapped. “Th-There are just some things I’m not strong enough to do by myself, times when I have to team up with others for a common goal!! Until the day I have the strength to act completely on my own…!”

Malleus laughed softly, his lips lifting into a mysterious curve. "Be at ease, Howl. You needn’t be so defensive. I see your point with crystal clarity.”

“You… You do?”

“That is correct.” The dragon prince’s eyes creased. “You, who seeks strength, shall surely find it—and with that strength, you will not be daunted from protecting what is most precious to you, family and friends alike. You’ve helped me to realize the same. We are both the same kind of beast, fufu.”

Jack took one look at Malleus’s ominous smile and shuddered. It could have decimated the stars, wiping out all the light in the night sky in one fell swoop.

“I’m not so sure that’s a good thing…”

He glanced back at the painting of the lion prince and the hornbill advisor. The distress on the cub’s face suddenly resonated with him.

Jack groaned.

It looks like I still have a lot to learn.

[foreverbloodmoon]

Chariot Rides | Clarisse x Cabin 10 Girlie

Summary : When during the chariot rides and the magic border around Camp Half-blood is gone, crazy birds attack.

Warnings : pain, blood, crying, insecure thoughts and sayings

Notes : I have not slept all night, it’s currently 6AM and I’m halfway through Sea Of Monsters so this’ll be short. This could be a pt 2 to the other Clarisse scenario.

The chariots raced at top speed, each one targeting another. For being “Aphrodite’s girl’s” they were doing well, in a secure third place so far. Everybody assumed cabin 10 were just lazy, doing their makeup and hair, but they also trained, usually just earlier than any cabin would wake up at.

Ares’ was right ahead of the Aphrodite chariot with Athena following closely just behind. There was barely any space between said chariots and while cabin 10’s chariot was decked out in pink paint and white lace, it still held many weapons the opposite of its design.

As Lilani tossed her hand knives to jam the wheels of the Hermes’ chariot, causing the cart to stop despite their horses great attempts.

The birds in the trees called and cawed, as if an alarm. The birds in the trees—making a god awful radar-like noise—had gotten even louder, distracting all the chariots from attacking.

“What the…” Lilani said before the birds swooped down at everyone, pecking their beaks and chirping noise into their ears. The birds didn’t bother attack anyone on the chariots despite the speed at which they were all racing at.

The birds pecked at Lilani’s skin, picking small cuts and punctures into her once perfect complexion. She cried out in pain as the driver of her chariot crashed into a guard wall along the course, sending them flying out the car and crashing to the floor.

A pain shot up her arm, not one too bad but enough to throw you off guard. Barren, bloodthirsty birds still carved red streaks into her skin, making the girl try and get up to run away, only to fall a couple feet later.

She could feel as the razor sharp beak drag around her face, etching a long red, bleeding line across her eyebrows and down her eye.

Ares’ chariot had a net above it, protection from the killer birds but when Clarisse heard Lilani screaming, she faltered for a second, allowing Athena to pass by into first. Annabeth stuck out her tongue at Clarisse for a moment. “Stymphalian birds!” Annabeth yelled from her chariot.

“They’ll strip everyone down to bone if we don’t drive them away!” She yelled at Percy, who—by the looks of it, was trying to calm down Tyson his cyclops brother. “Tyson, we’re turning around!” Percy yelled, grabbing the reigns from Tyson’s hands.

When Clarisse realized what that meant, she frantically looked around, desperate to find Lilani before it was too late.

“Going the wrong way?” Tyson frowned. “I’m sorry.” He dipped his head down, one eye with a tear on each side.

The Poseidon and Athena chariots ran off the tracks, towards the stands where Annabeth yellled “Hero’s to arms!” But no one could hear her.

The Ares’ chariot stopped long ago, losing the victory they would've had. Lilani was still trying to get up and to safety but always fell after around 10 feet. “Lili!” Clarisse called, trying to look through the mayhem and birds swarming her for her lover.

“Clarisse!” The screaming girl cried out, finally being able to stand up without falling back down like a domino. Her arms flailed around as she tried to push the birds away from her.

Lilani ran as fast as she could from the birds and to anywhere safe, the water, the cabins, anywhere. The cabins were the closest so, she ran as fast as she could until she was in the cabin and shut the door behind herself.

Before she even realized how much pain she was in, she looked for the closest mirror and into her reflection. What she looked into wasn't herself anymore, it was a girl who was cut, bleeding, and bruised and-

"Ugly..." She whispered, fingers delicately dragging along her own face, outlining every imperfection that was once perfect.

The cabin 10 door opened slowly while Clarisse popped her head in. "Lili?" She asked softly, stepping into the cabin and nearly letting out a gasp at the sight of her holding a mirror, crying and whispering "I'm ugly again."

"Lili..." Clarrise--as gently as she could--placed her and on Lilani's shoulder, careful not to hurt any unseen injuries. The girl jumped at the touch only to realize it was only Clarisse. But Clarisse was the last person she wanted to see.

"Mom's gonna be so mad at me." Lilani cried into Clarisse's shoulder as she wrapped her arms around her. Not knowing what to do, Clarisse just combed her fingers through her lover's hair--which was now tinted red from blood.

"I'm gonna go grab a washcloth okay?"

Lilani hummed in response.

-

Clarisse had tried as carefully as she could to clean Lilani's wounds, not wanting her to be in any more pain but there was only so much she could do. "The cuts aren't deep at all, they should heal well with scars."

"Scars..." Lilani's head dipped down. She hated scars, she thought they made you ugly. "I'm gonna be ugly again. All the other girls will laugh-" "You aren't ugly. I think you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen." Clarisse smiled.

"Really?" The (h/c) girl blushed. "Of course."

[ironychan]

Today's explorations brought us a couple of new birds. The first one was only today on a technicality, because it was a very wee hour indeed when Valdez let herself into our tent and woke me up to tell me there was a really weird animal outside and she knew I'd want to see it. Kibwana refused to get up, but Reynolds and I followed her to an old log, where we found this:

It looks something like a cross between a crane, a grey owl, and an anteater. It and its fluffier offspring were crouched by the log, tilting their heads back and forth to listen, and then they'd lick out with long tongues to catch insects. They didn't seem to need to open their beaks to do this, and I'm not actually sure they could open - I never saw them do so. If the adult needed to pull more of the log apart, it would use the four-inch blunt talon on the end of each otherwise useless wing.

Reynolds says the way the feathers fan out around each eye is actually an adaptation for hearing - it funnels sound into the ears like a radio dish. The adult bird was clearly aware of us and looked directly at us several times, but since we weren't coming any closer it didn't seem bothered as long as we didn't make any sudden movements. Eventually it got its fill of ants and wandered off.

We asked Valdez what she was doing so far from our campsite in the middle of the night. She said she wanted to get further from the fire (which we leave smoldering so the wildlife won't get too nosy) in order to look at the stars. Apparently she's been mapping them. She's even invented several constellations based on tools and animals. I guess we all have our little keep-sane projects.

She was telling me more about it around lunchtime, while the two of us were scrounging for edible plant material, when we got today's second bird. This one was a bastard.

It was very tiny, mostly black on top with an ochre-coloured underside patterned with black v's, and a white mark on the back of its neck. It was also very round with tiny feet and absolutely adorable. I couldn't believe how lucky I was when it landed on my arm and put its beak right up against my skin. I figured it was licking up sweat for salt or something. I was wrong.

After a second or two I realized a bead of blood was forming where it touched me, and when I took a closer look I saw that it actually had a very long, needle-like upper beak that had gone right into my skin without me even feeling it, and a very short lower beak that it opened to let its little tongue lap up the blood. I'm sure I took this in for just a split second, but it felt like I stared at for an hour, unable to move. The image is burned into my retinas. I keep seeing it when I close my eyes.

I hollered and shook it off me, and it flew away. Boonmee put some alcohol on the puncture and told me to watch it carefully for signs of infection. Other than that there's not a lot I can do but wait and see how many diseases the little bugger gave me.

We took several suggestions for the name of the vampire bird, but seem to have settled on Reynolds', which was White-Naped Syrinx. 'Syrinx' is a character from Greek mythology and also the root word from which we get 'syringe'. It is also apparently the word for a bird's voice box. This would be much more interesting to me if I didn't have a hole in my arm.

Somebody suggested calling the anteater bird an owlvark, but Vandebeek said 'aardvark' means 'earth pig' in Dutch, so a more accurate name would be 'aarduil'. When somebody writes a bestiary for this future, we now know what the first page will be.

[hoshinoyozora]

The Snake Mirror

🖤 Pairing: Yandere! Jamil Viper x Female! Reader

💛 Word Count: 2,8k+

❤ Warnings:

[Edited]

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission. Also, don’t ask for a sequel unless I like the story enough to write one. Please reblog so other people can see my stories!

***

Thinking about turning this into a series, but we shall see if I have anymore ideas. Feel free to share yours, tho!

“If you want a pleasant surprise, try chanting ‘Mirror, mirror on the wall’. Nighttime works better.”

You didn’t know what to expect when the mirror shop owner bent down to whisper something to you. At that time, you merely nodded and tittered as you always did whenever you felt confused with a stranger’s words yet wanting to stay polite. Crowley grinned knowingly and withdrew from your ear. He certainly looked as unique as the things he sold; a half-mask resembling a raven’s beak, a greatcoat over his suit with thick blackbird feathers curl out from its blue-collar while the tips of the coat were cut to resemble two bird wings, a pair of black gloves with golden claw rings on each of his fingers, three mirror-like accessories on his hip with four golden keys dangling from them, and another mirror-like charm on his hat which had three more keys. Through that mask, his eyes glowed golden in the dimly lit shop. Until now, you still weren’t sure if he truly had golden eyes or it was merely trick of the eye.

Regardless, the surprise you encountered was more ‘mixed’ than ‘pleasant’. Within the golden mirror, framed by slithering snakes and a single red gem on the top, was a handsome man with tan skin, sharp charcoal grey eyes, and long braided black hair. He wore a black and purple robe, trimmed with golden key and various designs. He displayed a neutral expression, but if you were to observe further, you might see a slight annoyance in it.

“Good evening, Master. I’m here to carry out your wishes. For now, you only have three wishes left.”

His voice was low, almost like a murmur, yet no less robotic. He kept staring at you as you sputtered and whipped your head around searching for someone to help you despite the emptiness of your room.

“Oh, God. What should I do? He didn’t tell me I’d see a literal guy on my own mirror…!” you mumbled. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to call you. I was just curious and…”

The man merely blinked.

“You can go back, if you want to.”

“Is there nothing you want to wish for right now, Master?” he intoned. “If so, I shall leave until you call me again. Properly.”

You winced at the emphasis and nodded repeatedly, tittering.

“Y-yes, of course. Sorry for… bothering you.”

And he disappeared as quickly as he appeared. You stood before the mirror, staring blankly at the glossy reflection of yourself. The more you watched it, the more it looked like an ordinary mirror. Almost. Certainly, the mirror was worthy of your money in the most unexpected ways, even if you bought it solely to replace your old broken one.

Regardless, the mirror incident was soon forgotten in favor of your ailing grandmother. Although this time, she was hospitalized. The small family restaurant you worked on wasn’t enough to cover the bills, and you pondered long and hard to earn some extra money when you finally acknowledged the mirror again.

Should you do it?

“Mirror, mirror on the wall…”

Magically, the man materialized and greeted you in the same low, robotic voice. You wondered if it was rude of you to use your wishes when you didn’t even know his own name, and asked him to introduce himself.

“Me?” If it wasn’t for his slightly widened eyes, you wouldn’t notice his surprise at all. A question flashed in your mind about whether he was the type to have subtle emotions since birth or if he was taught to never show his discomposure. “I’m Jamil. Jamil Viper.”

“Oh, I see. That’s a nice name.”

An awkward silence ensued, and Jamil schooled his features back.

“Master, is there anything you wish for tonight?”

“Right, I–” you paused at the afterthought. “Is it… possible for you to cure someone’s illness?”

He rose an eyebrow.

“It depends. I can’t heal terminal illnesses, since I can’t intervene with fate too much.”

“Right.” Luckily, your grandmother didn’t have that kind of illness. Although it was still severe, nonetheless. “Can you heal my grandma? She’s being hospitalized right now and I… don’t have much money to pay for the bills.”

“Your wish is my command.”

And the next day, you received a call from the hospital that your grandmother had completely healed. Your mother and sister were understandably shocked, but they chalked it up to miracles and rejoiced over the news. Your grandmother had laughed and moved around smoothly as though she was never ill in the first place.

“Jamil, thank you so much for granting my wish! I’ve never seen my grandma looked so happy and healthy before.”

If you could grab his hands to emphasize your gratitude, you would. But Jamil seemed startled enough by your glistening eyes and wide grin, so you assumed he understood already.

“I-it’s nothing.” he stammered, then cleared his throat. “I was merely doing my duty.”

A look of realization and slight dread replaced your beam.

“… Ah, yes. I forgot to ask you, but is there any consequence for those wishes?”

“Huh, that’s the first.”

You blinked owlishly, wondering what was so amusing from your question.

“Karma works in this kind of situation too, but very few people know about it. Even if they do, they either ignore it or realize it all too late. Nothing is truly free in this world, you know?”

You looked down in understanding, missing the way his eyes glinted meaningfully.

“I understand. That means I have to use my wishes as wisely as I can, right?”

He stared at you for a moment.

“Right.”

***

There was a new restaurant in your neighborhood.

It was more modern, more expensive, and more varied in terms of menu. Slowly, your longtime customers began to trickle out and move to the new restaurant. Competition was nothing unusual, and you were certain you’d meet this kind of thing again had you worked somewhere else. But you wouldn’t deny that it hurt to see your social media feeds were full of photos and praises for the new restaurant. The food you’d painstakingly cooked early in the morning had to be thrown out, only to be made all over again. The lack of tips further dismayed you, and worse of all, you sometimes caught your sister gazing longingly at the new restaurant. You knew that she would’ve moved and worked in there too had she wasn’t so loyal to the family, but you ensured your mother wouldn’t see her yearning and react negatively.

“Jamil, can I ask you for another thing?”

So, here you were, sitting in front of the mirror and talking to a person whose existence nobody would believe. Jamil was sitting down too, but with more composure than your slumped figure had.

“Well, that’s what I’m here for.”

You rested your head on your palms and sighed heavily. While it was nice to have some break during work, you’d take busy days over empty days any time.

“I want my family restaurant to flourish.”

“… Why?”

“Because there’s a new competition and it takes most of our customers.”

“Don’t you want to… eliminate the competition instead?”

You shook your head, “No, I’m not that cruel. I just… I just want our restaurant to be the best in town. If possible.”

“Of course.”

The next day, a surge of new and old customers crowded your restaurant. Chatters and orders muffled the ambient music, and the smell of food and beverages filled the place. It was exhausting, but there was a small smile on your lips during the entire shift. Even your mother seemed relieved, deeming the phenomenon as another miracle.

“Oh, Jamil. Thank you again! My restaurant was filled to the brim today, and we got so much tips too!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’d be concerning if it wasn’t.”

He looked away, but it wasn’t out of arrogance so much as embarrassment. Your grin softened to an adoring smile.

“You’re really cute, you know that?”

“W-what?!”

“Are you not used to people thanking you? Or is this the… first time you’re doing this whole wish-granting duty?”

Jamil fell quiet, and you feared you’d offended him somehow.

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to–!”

“It’s fine, I get it.” he sighed, closing his eyes as if preparing himself. “And no, this is not my first time. I’ve been doing this longer than you think, and I’ve met lots of people with various personalities. Some only consider me as a tool to make their biggest wishes come true, while some are formal, to say the least.”

“I see.” You couldn’t say that you understood his feelings, but you could sympathize with the ‘tool’ part because some customers also considered you as a servant to their demands. “So, how did you land in that mirror shop?”

“Ah…”

Now he was being hesitant, and you didn’t want to make things anymore awkward between you two, so you told him to ignore it.

***

“For your last wish, I think you should be more selfish, [Name].”

You looked up in surprise. Jamil was polite when it was necessary, but he was generally blunt. Still, this was the most unexpected thing he said thus far.

“W-what are you talking about? My wishes have been ‘selfish’ too, no?”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” he deadpanned. “All this time you’ve been ‘wishing’ for other people’s happiness more than yours. But are you really going to spend all of your chances for them? Don’t you want a little something for yourself too?”

You stopped to ponder on his words. It was, indeed, true how you’d been requesting for blessings to your family. Sure, you felt the impact or benefit, but it wasn’t genuinely your blessing, to begin with. Your grandmother often told you to reward yourself after all the hard work, and although this was more of a ‘shortcut’ than anything else, her words still held some weight.

“Okay.” said you after a moment of contemplation, and, as always, Jamil patiently waited until you dismissed him verbally. “I wish… I wish I could have a boyfriend.”

And yet, despite his encouragement, he took a rather long time to grant your last wish.

“Jamil…?”

“You want a what?”

“I-I want a boyfriend.” You didn’t know why you were stammering now, or why he was looking at you so scandalously, but you did know that the temperature had dropped. Your hair bristled, and you were tempted to shoo him away for the night, but you persisted and asked softly, “Is that so bad?”

He remained quiet and kept watching you, until he finally sucked a breath through his mouth.

“… No, of course not.” he paused, seemingly thinking about something. Then, his face brightened slightly. “If that’s what you wish, I shall make it come true to the best of my ability. Let this be our final meeting too, Master. And… thank you for making my life pleasant, even if it’s fleeting.”

You wilted. You forgot that this would be the last time you met him. Maybe you should procrastinate on the wish for a bit longer, but what if he wanted to see a new person instead? Someone kinder and friendlier than you. Your heart ached at the thought, yet you were comforted by the smile on his face. It was a little larger than usual, perhaps prompted by the gratitude he felt for you.

You smiled back.

“Thank you for being so patient with me and grant my wishes too, Jamil. You never disappointed me, and I hope the next person will be just as pleasant.”

“You’re right. I never disappointed you, did I?” he murmured, although he still maintained eye contact with you. “I hope you won’t be disappointed with this one, too.”

Suddenly, your eyesight began to blur. You blinked repeatedly and put a hand on your head as if trying to anchor yourself to the ground. Yet the ground was what you felt on the back of your head along with a dull pain as you succumbed to the darkness.

And the last thing you saw was a dark hand that reached out from the mirror.

***

The sand surrounded the palace-like building as you leaned against the balcony in an attempt to convince yourself that you weren’t dreaming. There was an invisible barrier that prevented you from leaping from the balustrade, and your mind unhelpfully supplied that it was, in fact, magic. Golden lanterns hung at various spots in the vast ceiling, complemented with golden lamps that illuminated the lounge room. There was a silver tray containing two matching small cups and a pitcher, and colorful rugs spread out over the entire room. In the center of the rugs, the red one, lied a pile of plush pillows that imprinted the shape of your body. It was comfortable, and you’d love to bury yourself in it forever had you didn’t wake up in a strange place. Stars twinkled coyly in the dark blue canvas, mocking your ignorance of the situation.

“Enjoying the view?”

You spun around, noting the obvious change of clothes. He wore a black and red sleeveless jacket, an undershirt, a yellow belt, black parachute pants, and black sneaker-sandals. There were several gold accessories in his body; the most striking one was the shoulder cuff on his right shoulder, shaped like a snake. He seemed more casual now, more relaxed as though he was visiting you during your stargazing. You recoiled despite the considerable distance between you two and almost bumped against the balustrade behind you.

“J-Jamil, what…? Where am I? Why am I here?”

“You said you want a boyfriend, no? Well, here I am. Your boyfriend.”

“You’re joking.”

He frowned.

“I’ve been fulfilling your wishes left and right and listening to your sorrows and happiness. I might as well be your boyfriend.”

“But you’re not! That’s not what I’m asking!”

“No, [Name]. You did ask for a ‘boyfriend’, but you never specified ‘who’ or ‘what’.” he hissed. “Don’t you ever heard of the phrase ‘be careful of what you wish for’? I’m not a mind reader, [Name], and I don’t want to. If you ask me something so vague, then I’ll give you what I think will suit you.”

You gaped, and your throat began to tighten. To yell or to cry? You didn’t know. Everything was too much for you to comprehend at once. It was true that you did share your sorrows and happiness, and you’d mistakenly believed him to be your friend due to his patience and support. But you didn’t expect that he’d harbor any feeling for you beyond gratitude; one that was dark enough to led him to kidnap you.

“Where am I, Jamil?” you whispered once you were fully cognizant of your surroundings for the second time. “Where am I?! Tell me! Am I still in my city?! My neighborhood?!”

Something told you that you were far from home, too far, but you refused to believe it. Even if you were in another country, it was still much better than–

“You’re in my world, of course.”

His home.

“Or the ‘mirror world’, as some of you called it.”

The night wind howled, filling the temporary silence and fragile peace.

“… I want to go home.”

“You can’t. The mirror has broken now.”

“Why? Why is it broken? Crowley said it’s an old but durable mirror. I paid too much money for that.”

“It’s not a matter of how much money you spent to buy it, although I’m grateful for your efforts. But, you see,” Jamil started to advance towards you, and you had no way out than to swallow and bear with the ever-encroaching proximity. He lifted your chin, feeling your jaw tensed. “The mirror always breaks once the owner gains his ‘happily ever after’. If he doesn’t, then Crowley will retrieve the mirror from the patron’s house after they get the justice they deserve and sell it all over again. And, yes, I am the true owner of this mirror. All of you might pay money for that, but you ask things from me and you play with my rules. And once the mirror breaks, it can never be sold again.”

“So, all this time, you’re being passed down in search of a ‘happily ever after’ bullshit?”

Jamil sneered at your insult.

“That’s rich, coming from someone who also seeks for happiness. Don’t pretend to be dumb. All of you are the same. You just so happen to focus more on your family. But in the end, you succumb to your selfish desires too, don’t you?”

“You said I should be more–!”

“Shut up!” He clasped a hand over your mouth and glowered. “That is no way to speak to your boyfriend. I told you, karma works in this kind of situation too. I can repay your kindness to your family by making you healthy and rich forever, but if you treat me badly, then I’ll treat you just as similar. Do you understand, [Name]?”

You merely glared back.

“I said, do you understand?”

Reluctantly, you nodded.

“Good.” Jamil withdrew his hand and allowed you to slump against him. Patting your back, he cooed. “This way, I can continue to help you and vice versa. Because I never forget a favor… or an offense.”

[httpknjoon]

toast and wedding plannings | ksj

plot | you have a busy schedule but you want to be jin's wife as soon as possible. so you two did the most logical thing to do.

word count | 3.2k

genres | fluff

pairing | actor!jin x famous!reader

note | of course, the a-listers would always be the one who will break me out my writer's block era.

main masterlist | the a-listers: confidential masterlist

“Okay, the premiere is on the fifth of December. But before that, you will be doing interviews, mostly online. A few are solo, but most of that stuff is with your castmates. By the way, Val from Indian Paintbrush sent an e-mail, specifically for you. She said…”

A blue bird landed on one of the branches of your red maple tree in your backyard. You watched as it stood there quietly, letting your assistant’s voice from your phone go into the background. The bird probably felt your eyes on him as it turned its small beak in your direction before flying away. Left with no more entertainment, you sighed before turning around. That’s when you see your fiance of almost three weeks placing a cup of coffee and a plate of toast on the patio table.

“Hailey. Schedule.” you mouthed at him while pointing to your phone that you were holding next to your ear.

He nods before signing and then mouthing a word, “Peanut butter?”

You looked at the food he prepared for you before soundlessly replying, “Banana, please.”

Jin smiled and gave you a double thumbs-up before walking back in to get your request. Your attention returns to the call you were in as you sat on your outdoor sofa.

“... and as you requested, I cleared out your schedule for your Seoul trip with Jin,” Hailey said with a proud tone. “Thank God, Fallon’s producers agreed to move your guesting next month. They said yes after I offered them exclusive photos from your trip, just like you said.”

“It’s like a consolation gift.” you chuckled.

Since you were already booked for the Tonight Show a month ago, you knew that it would be a headache for everyone involved when you asked for your guesting to be moved to January. Knowing how the industry works, even though you really hate sharing your personal agendas with everyone, you decided to offer some “exclusive” photos from your trip that Hollywood loves to the show’s producers.

“Anyway, thank you so much for everything, Hailey.”

“Yeah, no problem. Just enjoy your week. Next week will be crazy busy again.” she spoke.

“I know.” you sighed.  “You too! Enjoy your week there in Hawaii.”

Just as you hang up the call, Jin enters again with your bananas. You smiled as you noticed he sliced it already. He sat next to you and almost immediately, you rested on his shoulder, making him wrap his arms around you.

“Busy schedule?” he asked, sensing the exhaustion from you even though it was only eight in the morning.

You snuggled closer to his chest, “I just wish I had more time to plan the wedding.”

“Don’t worry, we still have a lot more time to do that. I can wait for you,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

Unlike you, Jin doesn’t have any work commitments left for this year. He already had plans of visiting his extended family back in South Korea for next month so he made sure to empty out his schedule. And since you just got engaged weeks ago, you joined in on his month-long trip, making some surprise changes to your agenda. 

You looked up, “But I can’t. I want to be your wife like right now.”

Jin just laughed at what he thought to be a joke from you. His attention went to the food, spreading peanut butter on your toast. You, on the other hand, scrunched your eyebrows as you watched him. Because you’re not kidding. You want to get married as soon as possible with him. It’s like a switch flipped in your brain ever since that morning after you said yes to his proposal. You are just so happy and excited to marry him. 

When Jin noticed you not laughing, his eyebrows raised, “What?”

“I want to marry you now, I’m not kidding,” you said like you were offended.

“I know. Me too, bub.” he grinned at your pouting lips. Putting down the bread, he held your hand and planted a kiss on it, “Trust me, if I can marry you today, I would.”

Your lips were forming into a smile when– An idea forms in his head.

“We can,” you mumbled, making Jin confusedly look at you. “I mean not today. But we can get married this week. I don’t have anything to do this week since I’m supposedly busy next week. Plus, I have this dress coming from Vivienne Westwood for the premiere. I could wear that.”

“Well, Donny just got ordained online…” Jin whispered.

You two quietly eyed each other, both knowing something was cooking in your heads.

“Okay, how about you try to make this character your own? I’ll give you five minutes to internalize again.”

Having the urge to roll his eyes, Donny turned his back to the so-called actor someone probably miscast for this series he has been directing. He can feel a headache forming from how plain and bad this young actor says his lines. He sat back on his chair, cooling down. As soon as he opened his phone, he noticed a series of messages sent by his best friend almost an hour ago.

From Jin

are u free this wednesday

From Jin

won’t take no for an answer

From Jin

go here before 6

From Jin

wear something nice

From Jin

yn and i will be hosting an engagement dinner :))

“Hi, this is Hailey. I am calling for the bouquet…”

Pressing a powder on your face, you watched Hailey from the background of your mirror walking back and forth while talking to someone on her phone. The tan lines on her shoulders are still visible since she only got back from her vacation less than twelve hours ago. She even wore the same beach dress she wore in Hawaii days ago as she went straight to your house after you informed her about your plans. 

“Do you even have anything? Flowers? Gown? Hair and make-up stuff? How about the venue? The guests?! All that thing!” she panicked through the call.

You pursed your lips, “It’s a very intimate, surprise wedding, Hailey. We just want to get married now and we prefer the smallest counts of guests possible. I’ll be wearing that Westwood dress–”

“Huh? It’s not coming until the day before the premiere night, YN.” she interrupted, sounding annoyed.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“That dress is coming from London and they said they’ll be sending it in December!” she almost screamed, confirming that she was, indeed, annoyed. 

Hailey, at this point, is your eldest sister. She manages everything in your life and always wants the best thing for you. She is more than your assistant and occasional stylist, she is family. So you don’t really mind if she openly lets you know when she gets annoyed about something you’ve done. There were even times you were more scared of her than she ever was to you.

You tried to think of something, “Oh… Okay. I still have that white dress we bought years ago when we–”

“No! No! You’re not going to wear that. I’m contacting someone from Versace. I’m sure we can get you something.”

‘Don’t—”

“Yes, I’m not telling them where you would use it. I’ll think of other reasons.”

“It says that they were supposed to arrive thirty minutes ago.”

She looks like she was so close to biting her nails as she talked to the flower shop staff, all while you do your make-up. Still, in your comfiest pink robe with your gown underneath, you gently swiped your favorite shade of lip stain on your lips. Then, your make-up is done! You didn’t really put much effort, only doing a natural look rather than your common red carpet look. Hailey helped you earlier with creating soft curls for your hair. 

And for your dress, you still ended up with a white one. Of course, Versace. Hours after Hailey contacted them for your “private dinner” event, they sent three options for you to choose from. You picked out the white, shimmery gown Amal Clooney wore one time. It is a bridal gown with spaghetti straps and a full, sweeping train. It is sparkly and perfect for the ambiance of your backyard, where you will be holding the wedding.

“No, I asked for–”

Hailey was cut off when someone knocked on your home office’s (made into a prep room for you) door. She was the one who opened the door as she was closer to the door.

“Oh, you arrived!” she said before you could see who she was talking to.

Then, a familiar man popped his head in. Your heart jumped, making you stand up even though you were careful with your gown. 

“Dad!”

“Oh my god. How are you feeling?”

Jin wanted to say he was cool. But with his sweaty palms and racing heart, he knew he was more than cool. Just a little nervous and a lot more excited. Just a month ago, he was learning to cook the Marry Me chicken recipe and now, you two will be tying the knot in less than an hour. He can feel butterflies in his stomach just by thinking what you would look like. He hasn’t seen you after breakfast today. Hailey and Donny insist that it’s a tradition, something for fun. You were laughing as your assistant pulled you away from him while you were still kissing him. Since you two were in the same house, you have been kept in your office for hours now.

“You don’t have to answer that. Your smile says everything.” Donny interrupted his thoughts. ‘Thank you for making me a big part of this, man. I really appreciate it.”

Instead of their usual cool guy handshake, Jin and his best man (and friend and wedding officiator) shared a tight hug. He can feel how happy Donny is for him just by the short hug.

‘Thank you for flying from SoCal for this dinner.” Jin laughed.

‘I was so confused why you wanted me to dress so nicely for dinner!” Donny explained, laughing too.

It was in the middle of their laughter when they heard the doorbell ring. Knowing it’s probably one of the very few guests you two invited, Jin opened the door. He was right.

“Oh, aren’t you a fine groom?” your dad opened his arms as soon as Jin saw him. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you so much, sir.”

“Ah, you can call me Dad.” he corrects him.

Jin smiled wider before hugging your stepmother too. Your father and Helen, his wife came from Iowa since that was where he retired years ago before reuniting with you. It is no secret to everyone who knows you that you had a distant relationship with your dad, especially after the whole emancipation thing. But he reached out to you around the same time you and Jin worked for Cornelia Street. Since then, you and your dad have been catching up from time to time. That’s why Jin flew to your dad’s farmhouse in Iowa months ago to let him know about his plans to propose to you.

“You know, I didn’t expect this wedding to happen this soon.”  Helen quipped as they entered. “Where’s the bride?”

“Oh, she’s in her office. I haven’t seen her since this morning,” he told them, almost sounding like a kid complaining.

“Stop whining. The wedding will start in like thirty minutes.” Donny said, making the older people laugh.

Then, they walked to the stairs up your office, leaving Jin and Donny alone again. The two decided to go to the backyard, where the fairy lights were lit up while there were white roses arranged in two lines on the sides of the small pathway for you later. The wooden chairs for the guests are the same chairs on the dining table inside the house but Hailey made sure to make it a little special with names, ribbons, and flowers on it. To ensure the privacy of your special day, you only have six guests in total: Hailey, Donny, your dad, Helen, Jin’s mom, stepdad, and dad. The latter three are still on their way. Considering his dad is in South Korea, Jin assured him that he understands if he cannot come with the sudden event. But his dad promised that he would come.

“Okay, just stand there.”

Minutes later, Hailey is instructing Jin where to stand. Donny is already next to him. Helen and Jin’s parents are already sitting in their seats. A good instrumental of love songs plays in the background with a Bluetooth speaker Hailey prepared. Jin cannot help but feel giddy. He knew you were already waiting for your best friend’s instructions to walk down this flowery aisle, along with your dad next to you.

“You look beautiful, honey.” your dad whispered next to you.”Exactly like your mother.”

That is the greatest compliment for you. Your mother was the most wonderful person in your head and to be compared to her always warms your heart. And to hear it from your father makes your lips quiver like a little kid.

You turned your head at him, smiling while feeling a burn of tears at the edge of your eyes, “Thank you, Dad.”

His lips were shaking like he was trying not to get too emotional. Instead, he offered you a smile and held your hand that was snaked on his arm.

“I’ll play the song and you will slowly walk out, okay? Just take your time.” Hailey comes in again.

You nodded, “Okay, ma’am.”

You see her shoulders tensing down as you say that. She chuckles.

“Now, can you just sit down? I want the world’s best assistant and my best friend to see me walking there,” you told her and her eyes instantly glistened.

“Okay.” she smiled after looking at you for a few more seconds. 

You wanted to hug her but you knew you two would just bawl out your eyes and ruin the whole thing if you did. So without saying any other words, Hailey heads out. A few seconds later, you hear a familiar melody. So This Is Love from Cinderella. You and your dad took it as a signal to take a few steps together until you reached the backyard.

And there, he sees you. Finally.

Everything felt calm as you walk down the aisle. Instead of beating faster, his heart slows down and all he can see is you. Your eyes were all watery before you could even reach the middle of the aisle, where your father would leave you so can have your own moment. He placed a kiss on your cheek before letting you go. You looked back at Jin and a single tear had already slipped down his cheek. You don’t know but you smiled and chuckled as you walked closer, crying happy tears yourself. He chuckled too.

You are an angel in his eyes. As you stepped closer to him, he remembered the first night he saw you. Smiling, handing him a TicTac and telling him a story. He just remembered losing himself in your voice and beauty. Butterflies were playing around his stomach just like now. He hoped that it would not be the last time he saw you.

The song’s volume in the background lowered down as you stood in front of Jin. Everyone who is witness to this wonderful night can feel the love and adoration you two hold for each other.

Donny began, “We gather here today to celebrate the love of two wonderful human beings, YN and Jin. You have come to this beautiful place to witness the formal commitment they will make for each other, allowing YN and Jin to begin this new chapter of their life together with the people they truly trust, and love the most. Welcome and thank you for your presence here tonight. And please, no taking pictures– except you, Hailey, of course.’

Everyone laughed at his joke. Hailey, being the best person, also has a camera with her to take candid snaps.

“Now, as we all know, YN and Jin are a little bit in a rush to get married so I’ll keep this short.” you and Jin laughed as Donny continued, “As a longtime spectator of their amazing love story, all I can say is they are truly meant for one another. They are a perfect pairing as they balance each other so well. They work together perfectly not just in their great movies, but also in their relationship. And I believe, their effort and patience to make this relationship work in the middle of their busy lives is what leads us to this moment.”

“I always felt lucky to be friends with both of you two, being able to witness your story like no one else does. No amount of articles or movie scenes can ever encapsulate the passion you two have for each other. The way you care and protect each other amidst crazy rumors and hard times is truly powerful. Jin, you are the only one who can make YN smile throughout an exhausting day. And YN, you are the only one who can laugh at my best friend’s corny dad jokes.” 

Jin glared at his best friend while everyone, including you, laughed. You broke his glare as you softly held his cheek to make him look back at you.

“With that, I wish for them to spend their lifetime as one. I wish for their marriage to be filled with moments of joy, contentment, and love. I hope that they continue to make each other laugh, smile, and believe in love as they make the whole world do.”

Jin squeezed your hand, making you smile even more.

“So, without further ado… YN, do you promise to love, honor, cherish, and protect him, forsaking all others, and holding only unto him forever?”

“I do,” you replied with no hesitation, looking deeply at your soon-to-be husband.

“Jin, do you promise to love, honor, cherish, and protect her, forsaking all others, and holding only unto her forever?”

His lips quirked, “I do.”

Donny smiled widely, “Now, please bring out the rings.”

Jin followed since he was the one who kept the rings you picked days ago, in which Donny picked up at the store on his way here.

“Please place the ring on each other’s left hand and repeat after me:” Donny said. “I, YN/JIN, take you above all else, to be my wife/husband, forevermore.”

You and Jin repeated everything not removing your gaze on one another. You felt the gold ring slip in one of your fingers after that. You have never felt joy pumps in your system.

“And now by the power vested in me by the internet, it is my honor and delight to declare you married. Go forth and live each day to the fullest. You may seal this declaration with a kiss.” 

Donny and the guests clapped while standing up. Jin gently held both of your cheeks while he leaned closer to you. You closed your eyes as you felt his soft lips on yours. Fireworks set off inside you. You kissed him, feeling the soft skin of his cheeks on your fingertips, inhaling his calming scent. He kissed you back, running his hand back to your waist, squeezing it for a short second before pulling away. You two opened your eyes. You were the first one to speak,

“I’m so lucky to have you. I love you.”

He kissed you once again, “I love you too."

taglist rules

THE A-LISTERS: CONFIDENTIAL TAGLIST

@xiumo @joonsbvtch @firesighgirl @qualityjoonie @txtlyn @yoontaethings

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @misshale21

[themirokai]

It is with very mixed emotions that I present to you

Grave

The final story in the Matthew the Emotional Support Raven series.

Matthew visits his own grave and finds himself in need of some emotional support.

Thanks to @quillsorceress for giving this a read and @aquilathefighter and @kulapti for being my go-to bird experts and answering a totally necessary and vital question about raven anatomy.

Inspiration from this picture. If you follow me you've seen a bunch of @raven-photos 's raven photos under my corvid posting tag, but you should follow them too because they post tons of lovely stuff.

You can read the whole story below the cut or over on AO3. The AO3 version includes a mushy authors note about this being the end of the series, which I won't duplicate here, but I may put some additional thoughts in a reblog later.

~~~

Matthew felt the air pressure in the cemetery change. He hung his head with a sigh. 

“Did you need something, Boss?”

“I need only to know that my Raven is well,” Lord Morpheus said from behind him. 

“Yeah, you know me,” Matthew said. “Ball of corvid sunshine.” 

“Matthew.”

“I haven’t even been gone that long,” Matthew groused. 

No response to that. Matthew sighed again and looked around at the gray headstones and dewy grass, sparkling in the morning light. 

“How did you find me? You’re not in my head.” He thought for a moment. “Lucienne ratted me out, didn’t she?” 

“Lucienne informed me that you had asked for your book. She was concerned for your mental state.” 

Matthew huffed. “Do dreams have ‘mental states’?” 

“Yes,” Lord Morpheus said simply. 

Matthew hung his head again and took a deep breath, then reflected that he wasn’t alive and probably didn’t need to breathe. Which was what had brought him to this cemetery in the first place. He gestured to the headstone in front of him with his wing. “Well, there it is. In all its glory. My grave.”

There was, in fact, no glory. It was a completely unremarkable gray headstone with a curved top. His name and the dates of his birth and death were carved on it, nothing else.

“Why have you come here, Matthew?” Lord Morpheus asked quietly. 

“You don’t know? You can’t just read my mind?” 

“Not while we are in the Waking.” 

“Inconvenient,” Matthew muttered. He ground his beak. Matthew knew that none of this was the boss’s fault. He had made perfectly clear when Matthew first met him that he hadn’t been the one to turn Matthew into a Raven. Matthew shook his head. “I died a year ago.” He turned to face Lord Morpheus. The boss was standing ramrod straight, hands shoved into the pockets of a black pea coat. 

“This is not the anniversary of your death, Matthew.”

Matthew flapped his wings. “I know that. I just… started thinking about it. And then I realized that for all the times I’ve come to the Waking, I never saw what my grave looked like.” 

“Now you see it.” 

“Yeah, and I’m dead in there!” He turned to stare at the ground in front of the headstone. “Like my body - my body that I had my whole life - is just down there. Dead and rotting.” He shivered. “It’s not like I ever took particularly good care of it, but it’s still weird! And that’s before you even get to the fact that I’m a fucking bird.” 

“I thought you enjoyed being a Raven.” 

“I do!” Matthew said quickly. “This isn’t about that. It’s just… look, one minute I’m an alive human and the next minute I’m a fucking bird and  Lucienne is telling me to go follow you and then I’m trying to get you to not throw me out on my ear and then we’re dealing with Constantine and then we’re going to Hell and then you’re fighting the asshole who had your ruby and then I’m spying on Rose and then I’m running errands and delivering messages and meeting all sorts of weird people and- and beings and then…” Matthew breathed out in a rush. “I don’t know. I guess I never really stopped to think about the fact that I’m dead. Like really properly dead. With my body rotting in the ground.” 

“Do you feel ‘really properly dead’?”

“No! I don’t feel properly anything! That’s the problem!” 

Lord Morpheus kind of folded himself up so that he was sitting cross-legged on the ground, facing Matthew. “You were not expecting to die? When you were human.” 

Matthew closed his eyes and shook his head. “I wasn’t that old. And I didn’t exactly have the greatest lifestyle… certainly not what would be considered ‘clean living’ by any stretch. I guess that’s why I had a heart attack… but no. I wasn’t sick or anything. I wasn’t expecting to die.” 

Lord Morpheus nodded solemnly. “Most of my past Ravens had been ill or injured or old when they died. Their deaths were much less surprising than yours. And they joined me during… much less chaotic times, when I… shaped the process of them becoming dreams myself.” 

Matthew snorted. “Yeah, I know. I’m the unwanted Raven. You don’t have to remind me.” 

“You mistake me, Matthew.” Lord Morpheus frowned. “Deliberately, I think.” 

“No, I just… you know what I mean.” Matthew looked away from him. 

“As I stated,” Lord Morpheus said a bit huffily, “in the Waking I cannot see your thoughts.” They were both quiet for a moment before Lord Morpheus continued. “My intent in bringing up other Ravens was to comfort you with the notion that the… discomfort you are experiencing is understandable, since your transformation to Raven occurred under less than ideal circumstances.” 

Matthew tipped his head to the side, looking up at him. “How did I become a Raven if you didn’t make me one?” 

A tiny smile on Lord Morpheus’s lips. “Another indication of the frenetic pace of your first year is that we have never talked of this.” He shifted into what Matthew considered to be his ‘storyteller voice’. It was a little deeper, more hypnotic. “I confess that I do not know for sure, though I have my suspicions.” 

Matthew would have liked to stay silent but felt an inexorable pressure to ask, “What suspicions?” Must have been the force of the narrative or something. 

He was rewarded with another tiny smile. 

“It is my suspicion that my sister, Death, selected you… for me.” 

Matthew would have frowned if he had lips. “How were your other Ravens selected?” 

“The souls of those who die in their sleep linger in the Dreaming until my sister collects them and passes them to whatever afterlife awaits them. When the time comes for me to select a new Raven, I select a soul that… feels right, and begin the transformation process.”

“What if the person doesn’t want to be a Raven?” 

It was Lord Morpheus’s turn to frown. “Do you not wish to be a Raven, Matthew?” 

Matthew clicked his tongue. “Now who’s mistaking who?” 

Lord Morpheus inclined his head. “If the person does not wish to be a Raven, then it will not last. They will move on to whatever is next for them and I will select a new Raven.” 

Matthew considered that, but quickly decided that he didn’t want to think too much about whatever was next. “So Death picked me.” 

“Yes, I believe so. It is possible that once I had returned to the Dreaming it… automatically selected a random soul and performed the process without my guidance…” 

Matthew knew there was more to that sentence. “But?” 

Lord Morpheus looked at the headstone. “But. You are too well-chosen to have been a chance selection… and.” 

“And?” 

“Even if the pain of Jessamy’s murder had not convinced me that I did not want another Raven, I think it unlikely that I would have chosen you.” 

Matthew glared at him. “I know that the next thing out of your mouth is going to make that a less shitty thing to hear.” 

Lord Morpheus rolled his eyes. “You are well aware how this story ends, Matthew. I would not have chosen you but sometimes my sister knows me better than I know myself. She collected you when I was preoccupied with the Hecate and saw what I would not have seen: that you… were exactly who I needed as my Raven. And then I suspect that she gave the Dreaming a very strong suggestion to perform your transformation.” 

Matthew had Death to thank for his current gig. Just add that to the pile of things he didn’t know how to feel about. But. There was the rest of what the boss had said. 

Matthew dragged a talon through the grass. “So… you don’t wish you had a different Raven? Someone… I dunno. Dignified or clever or something.” 

Lord Morpheus drew himself up and his eyes blackened from their normal Waking world blue to the night sky. “I am Dream of the Endless. I am older than this universe. I suspect I possess enough dignity for us both.” 

Matthew was not entirely sure that age and dignity were that closely related but kept quiet as Lord Morpheus continued. 

“As far as cleverness… you are perhaps not familiar with great works of poetry or philosophy, but I have never had a Raven who was more skilled at putting others at their ease, or soothing wounded feelings. Anything you lack in courtly manners is more than made up for in kindness and sincerity.” Lord Morpheus sighed and shook his head. “I would not have chosen you, Matthew, but I would have been a fool. You are exactly who I need as my Raven, especially after my imprisonment. My sister saw that, and I am immensely grateful to her.” He held out his hand. Matthew stepped on and was brought into his embrace. “I am sorry that your death was unexpected and jarring for you, Matthew. And I am sorry that the beginning of your tenure as my Raven has been so chaotic. But I cannot bring myself to be sorry that you died when you did, because that timing brought you to me.”

“Oh, Boss,” Matthew sighed.  

“So yes, your human body is moldering in that grave. And yes, you are a ‘fucking bird’. But I very much hope that you will remain a ‘fucking bird’ for a very long time to come.” 

Ravens, Matthew learned, were not capable of crying. He pressed his head against Lord Morpheus’s chest as Lord Morpheus began stroking his feathers. “Yeah. That sounds good.” 

[funhouse-mirror-barbie]

Rating Hazbin + Helluva Boss Characters based on if I could tell what animal/creature they’re supposed to be:

DISCLAIMER: This is not an attack on the creators or artists/designers for either show. I already went over the purpose of this on my first post here—I just like to review stuff.

Part 2!

SIR PENTIOUS—SNAKE—5/5

Yeah that’s a snake, man.

While I find some of Pent’s design elements cluttered, he’s actually one of the stronger designs in my opinion. I think the having his cobra hood act as his hair is fun and cleaver. It’s very easy to tell he’s a snake. Not sure why he has eyes on his tail/body? I think they could have just made them red spots but eh.

QUEEN BEE—FOX (?) WITH HONEY BEE ELEMENTS (?)—3.5/5

Bee’s a weird one for me b/c while her design is super super cluttered I can SEE how it could work, and I really do like fun cute fox and wolf girls. The ONLY reason that docked points is b/c she’s supposed to be a fox/bee hybrid (I believe?) but her “bee” elements are so minute that if I hadn’t seen her in a big beehive, I would have just assumed she was as a fox with fairy/insect elements—I wouldn’t have thought she was connected to a honey bee at all. It’s a weird case where she is VERY obviously a fox but it’s not obvious at all that she’s a bee/honey bee. I did want to give a little extra half-point tho b/c I do like her little antennae ears. They’re pretty much the only thing that screams “insect” to me.

STELLA GOETIA—SWAN (?)—3/5

I think I may be going a little easier on the Helluva cast b/c overall they’re easier to figure out what animals they are. I’ve heard that Stella is supposed to be a Swan but I’m not 100% sure. This one is def more on me, but I initially thought that she was either a secretary bird due to her long lashes and the way her hair is styled, or a peafowl (which would make sense b/c her brother is apparently a peacock?) at least I can tell that she is a bird and her colors are accurate for a swan’s. I think the reason I would never have thought of her as a swan is mostly due to her beak size and color. But yeah b/c I can at least confirm that she is in fact a bird I wanna give her a higher score.

I would rate Pilot Stella too, but I don’t think at that point she was meant to be a swan, just a vague bird demon lady. At least I hope not.

MAMMON—SPIDER (OR CENTIPEDE? MAYBE??) —0.5/5

So. Like Angel Dust. The only reason I know that Mammon is a spider is because he was shown sitting on a giant spider web.

I really didn’t think he was a spider/spider-ish looking at all and I still don’t. Even the extra eyes they add to him sometimes didn’t immediately make me think “Spider!” just that it was a demon thing. He really just looks like a jester with extra arms.

His full demon/mega form also doesn’t look very spider-ish tbh, and was what made me wonder if he was actually supposed to be a centipede? I was really disappointed by his “final form” because it’s pretty much the same as his regular form but with more eyes and what I assume is SUPPOSED to be a spider abdomen ?? But then he does kinda scuttle like a centipede at the end so maybe he is supposed to be???? But then why does he have a big spider web???

Also, and I’ll be honest, this is just me being needlessly nit-picky and it’s a small thing but it just irks me personally b/c I don’t understand the reasoning behind this but like. I HATE that his extra eyes DO NOT stay consistent.

The first time we see his extra eyes it gives him a total of 8 so I was like “oh okay yeah so maybe just his final form will be a spider/spider-like BUT THEN HIS EXTRA EYES KEEP OSCILLATING BETWEEN 3 and 4 EXTRA EYES?

These shots are only a few seconds apart like why did they give him MORE eyes when he got farther away? They’re so small that they barely seem distinct? Like if he IS supposed to be a spider you don’t have to keep giving him eyes!!! Stop, stop, he can already see!!! 😭

Maybe he IS a centipede tho? B/c he DOES seem to have the little centipede butt horns (which apparently are just their very hind legs in real life)

And he def seems to move like one in that form. Man idk. Why even HAVE him in a spider web then???

Being an arthropod lover and not being able to figure out what the fuck kinda guy that’s supposed to be is driving me wild tbh 😅

Honestly if Mammon was just supposed to be a clown/jester I would have given him 5/5 b/c yeah that was immediately obvious. But it’s him being a jester-spider-centipede-thing that muddles things for me.

I would put Loona in here but I ran out of pictures for this post talking about Mammons eyes. She gets 5/5 cause. Yeah that’s a classic wolf girl.