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laurfilijames · 3 months ago

Text

Breathe

Part 9

Pairing: Will Miller x female reader

Words: 5.8k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Unprotected intercourse. Alcohol consumption. Swearing.

Summary: Will's feelings come to light in the aftermath of your run-in with Cam, and after more rifts between the two Miller brothers, your relationship progresses to the next step.

A/N: I'm not sure how many chapters will be left as this series starts to come to a close, but I hope you enjoy this next one and continue to be patient with me while updates take longer. Below is the link to the song featured in this chapter ⬇️

Series Masterlist

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“Are you sure you’re not upset?”

“I’m sure.”

Will heard you sigh, and stood from where he knelt in front of the open fridge, meeting eyes with you as you held the door for him and passed him groceries to put away.

Your bottom lip was tucked between your teeth, the same worried expression you’d had on your face the whole way back to his place still dressing your features.

He wouldn’t deny he felt something.

Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Not jealousy or even that he felt threatened by Cam, but something in him burned and had made him turn quiet in the truck, his thoughts taking him away which in turn made you anxious.

Each time he looked at you those undetermined feelings grew, brewing inside him with a demand to be acted on, making Will feel on-edge and short, his mind constantly mulling over the interaction and imagining the one that had happened at the bar that he didn’t witness, and the more he thought, the less he said.

You had turned away after handing him the last of the food needing to go in the fridge, working on unpacking a bag into the cupboards, and without thinking, Will walked over to you and grabbed the box of cereal out of your hand and placed it on the counter.

His look was stern while yours was confused, neither of you speaking as you shared a loaded glance that might have finally revealed everything he was feeling, his hand grabbing the hair at the back of your neck and tugging, angling your head to tilt back before he crashed his lips against your open mouth, kissing you hard.

Your hands tore at his shirt, untucking it from the waist of his jeans and then moving to the buckle on his belt, your kisses desperate and wanting.

Before you had a chance to get any further, Will roughly turned you around, his large form hovering over you from behind, his breath hot on your ear.

His hand slid between your legs, stroking you through your jeans from the back, the pressure he was applying making the material rub on your aching cunt in a wonderfully cruel way.

“Bedroom. Now.”

The way he growled those two words made you moan with need, your entire body alight and tingling with arousal, feeling his large hand splay out on the small of your back just as it had earlier when you had run into Cam.

You did as you were told, marching to his room despite your legs feeling numb from the nervous excitement pulsing through you, knowing if you stopped or hesitated, Will would simply pick you up and get you there himself.

You stepped inside and spun around, holding your breath as you watched him slam the door behind him, his eyes darkened and heavy with a level of desire that made your heart thunder in your chest and your cunt pulse with need.

He ripped his shirt over his head and then stepped toward you, gripping your chin with enough force but still somehow gently, your eyes fluttering closed as a heaviness that you knew was from lust overtook them.

You moaned softly when you felt his thumb graze over your bottom lip, waiting, hoping, wanting him to unleash whatever it was he was experiencing on you.

“Will…”

His name came off your lips so sweetly, so softly, followed by a small sigh that was mixed with a whimper, the sound making every part of him ignite with a need to claim you.

Still holding your chin between his finger and thumb, he crashed against your mouth, his tongue diving in deeply to taste you, swallowing each breathy cry that passed through your lips.

After a moment he let his hand fall to your neck, gently cradling your vulnerable column in his grasp, the thrum of your heartbeat vibrating against his palm as he reluctantly broke away from your kiss, his hands moving to grip the hem of your shirt and lift it off of you.

You looked at him calmly and full of trust, a tell in your gaze that he knew no one else would ever be lucky enough to receive and he would never take for granted.

You hummed and closed your eyes when his fingers slowly unfastened the button on your jeans, your body completely still other than your chest rising and falling with deep breaths as he slid the zipper down and pulled the denim to the floor.

Will pressed a kiss on your bare thigh while he helped you step out of each leg, moving up to pepper across your hips, and you squirmed slightly at the sensation as his hands splayed out on your waist, his nose running up from your navel to your chest and further still to your neck as he stood tall again.

He spun you around, his mouth landing on your neck as he peeled the straps of your bra down each arm, moving to kiss each shoulder in turn once they were bare, one of his hands unclasping the hook at your back.

His lips returned to your neck, sucking and licking at your tender skin, his fingers reaching around to pluck at your nipples that hardened from being uncovered and from his touch, your bum pressing into his cock that strained in his jeans when you arched into him.

He sighed against your skin, relishing in this moment, knowing only he got to undress, reveal and expose every sacred part of you increasing his desire to love you even harder.

Keeping one hand on your body, squeezing and caressing your flesh, he used his other to unfasten his jeans, ridding them as quickly as he could, his cock springing out to hit your cheeks when he pulled his boxers down his legs. Done with undressing himself, he slid his hand in the waist of your panties, rubbing your clit and smearing your slick up until you were whining and your breathing was growing ragged, your body simultaneously moving into and away from his touch.

“On the bed,” he ordered, his voice gruff.

You took a step forward, crawling on your hands and knees onto the mattress, the view making his cock twitch. He eagerly followed, his fingers catching in the waist of your panties to pull them over your ass as you moved forward, showing him your wet cunt that was more than ready for him.

Him and only him.

“Fuck,” he hissed, swiping two fingers through your folds, his eyes locked on your core like he was in a trance.

“Will, please,” you begged, your plea his to fulfill.

His.

He leaned over you, his hand smoothing over one of your cheeks to spread it apart, his thumb brushing your puckered hole as he did, his other bracing on the bed beside yours where he covered it and locked his fingers between yours.

Edging closer to you, he rubbed his groin against your lifted ass, his dick knocking against you as he settled behind you and between your legs.

Will moved his hips back and forth, dragging his cock along your folds, your hips lifting to try to land him inside your waiting pussy, and finally he did, a low groan coming from him as you cried and gripped the sheets with your free hand.

“Will!” you wailed, needily and submissively.

He pulled out slowly and drove back in again, filling you with himself, watching you melt to his movements.

It was his cock you were taking, your pleasure brought on by him, the reminder making him almost feel dizzy.

He moved the hand that was groping the flesh on your hips down to your stomach, securing it on you as he shifted forward to move you both further onto the bed, keeping himself buried in you as he adjusted.

“Lay down, sweetheart,” he urged, swelling with pride as you promptly abided, never hesitating to follow his instructions out of the pure love and trust you had in him.

Covering your body with his, he laid on top of you, rutting deeply into you with powerful strokes, the fat head of his cock hitting your g-spot each time.

He kissed your upper back, shoulders and neck, feeling you move under his weight as much as you could, your sweet moans filling the air and filling him with a satisfaction like no other.

He swore each time he pressed his lips against your neck you would declare your love for him, singing it over and over as your mantra that gave him every bit of confidence that no one else would ever have the privilege to be loved by you.

“Fuck – I love you, Will!”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he would insist in return every time, never missing an opportunity to tell you and never wanting your love for him to feel unreciprocated.

“God, Will…” you continuously moaned, his name never sounding sweeter than off your lips.

He thrusted in you deeper, slower, giving you everything he had, your body responding to his generous pleasure in fits of cries and the roll of your hips.

He growled against your neck.

It was him who was making you moan and writhe with pleasure.

His cock filling you up.

His mouth tasting your sweat and feeling the softness of your skin.

You squeezed his hand, a signal of nearing your peak, encouraging him to fuck you harder and more thoroughly than ever, a sense of avariciousness blanketing him and turning him feral.

“I want to hear you scream my name,” he barked, his teeth grazing the skin on your nape where you shuddered and took in a sharp breath.

You reacted almost immediately to his ministrations, your form tensing below him, your muscles spasming and tightening, choking him as you came hard and soaked his cock that he pumped in and out of you furiously, his hand that wasn’t still holding yours sliding under your body to massage your clit.

His name cut through the air sharply.

Loud and unrestrained.

His name and no one else’s.

He bucked into you wildly, his open mouth smearing spit across your shoulder, continuing to rub your swollen bud roughly until he felt you explode around him again, all of it leading to his own end.

Your tight walls coaxed every drop of cum out of him, pulsing and drawing every ounce of his hot load, filling you to the brim as you squirmed underneath him, his eyes finally able to focus again where he saw your own saliva staining the sheets beside your face, your cheeks wet with tears and sweat, and you’d never looked so beautiful.

Will quickly pulled out of you and flipped you over so you were on your back, pushing back into your messy cunt while he grabbed your hand and locked your fingers together, bringing them up beside your head as he kissed you fiercely, still doing everything in his power to show you that only he could love you this much.

“Will…” you breathed when given a moment to, angling your hips to put him deeper inside you, the way you called his name different than just moments ago; full of love and adoration and devotion, just as you were still full of him.

He smiled against your lips, confident that no matter what, his was the name that would always tumble from your fucked-out lips, your body and heart his to possess.

You were sure it was just the drinks and the music and being with your friends that had you smiling the way you were, but as you sat at the well-used table at the country bar downtown and your mind began to drift to thoughts of Will, you knew the grin on your lips was all down to him.

“Man, you’ve really got it bad,” Grace laughed, like she knew exactly what you were thinking.

You simply nodded and shrugged, knowing there was no point in denying it or trying to pretend otherwise.

“And you said he has a brother, right?” your other friend Jess asked, having joined the three of you tonight.

Nicole nodded enthusiastically, “He’s just your type, too.”

“You don’t say! Well if he’s even half as good looking and satisfying as Will apparently is, I’ll have won the lottery!”

“I can introduce you,” you chimed, taking a sip of your drink.

“Yeah, I won’t hold my breath! It took us enough to just get you out of Will’s bed to come out with us tonight.”

You could feel your cheeks heat up, and you looked down at the table, your finger tracing in the wet ring of condensation from your glass, thinking back to that last few days and how simply perfect everything was.

Despite having spent every moment possible together, you felt like a part of you was missing, having agreed to peel away from each other so you could see your girlfriends and Will could go out with the guys after Benny’s fight, no amount of time together feeling like it was ever enough.

As if you sensed it, you looked up and through the crowd dancing between the bar and the front door, seeing five familiar men strut through, a pair of icy blue eyes locking with yours.

You laughed and bit your lip, more heat coursing through your body as Will matched your smile and winked at you, and you gave a wave to Frankie, Benny, Santiago and Tom who all made their way to the bar to get drinks.

“Out of all the bars…” Tom said with a chuckle, and you heard him ask the bartender to send another round of the same drinks to your table.

“We won’t bother you ladies!” Santiago called, earning some comebacks from the girls, but all you and Will could do was share a look that made your heart beat faster in your chest and butterflies swarm in your stomach.

Benny scoffed at Santiago’s remark. “Well now, I didn’t agree to that…” he drawled.

His blue eyes were fixed on Jess, grabbing his beer and sauntering over where he pulled out a chair and sat backwards on it next to her, introducing himself with as much confidence as ever despite the fresh bruises and cuts on his face.

The rest of the guys went and found their own table not too far off, forcing you to try to pretend like it wasn’t killing you to be so close yet so far away from Will, having a perfect view of him laughing and talking with his buddies and brothers-in-arms, vowing to focus on your own friends who you loved more than anything and deserved your attention.

It was almost thrilling in a way, acting as if you weren’t head over heels in love with each other and were strangers instead, sharing loaded glances across the tables that separated you that gave a hint of the types of fantasies playing out in your minds that were in fact very real and recent memories, feeling like every song that played was about you.

Jess and Benny were hitting it off, tucked together closely in their own little world while you, Nicole and Grace continued on with your night, laughing and singing and dancing, and whenever you checked over at the other table, Will and the other guys were relaxed and enjoying themselves.

Another hour or so had passed, a decent, warm buzz flowing through your veins as you watched Will lean against the bar nursing his beer while chatting with Frankie.

You continued to refrain from going over to him, choosing to admire him from afar and wait until you got back home to get your hands on him, but every time you saw the muscles in his back flex whenever he moved it became increasingly difficult, your draw to him its own beast.

The way he would look over his shoulder at you didn’t help your cause either, his gaze loaded and full of a knowledge of exactly what was happening with your body each time he did, completely honed in on the way you would shift in your seat like he was perfectly aware of how wet your panties were or how it felt whenever your shirt grazed over your peaked nipples.

You had just given yourself another reminder to be patient and wait until you were home to talk to him, knowing if you went within a foot of him your hands wouldn’t be able to stop touching his thick, warm body and you would be inclined to press your lips on every part of him you could while trying to remain respectable in a public setting, but then your favourite song came on and any restraint you scarcely had went right out the window.

‘You Look Like You Love Me’ by Ella Langley and Riley Green came over the speakers, pulling an even broader smile out on your cheeks until they hurt, and without hesitation, you were on your feet and essentially floating over to Will.

You were already singing the lyrics, watching as Will’s grin stretched wider and his chest moved with a chuckle, a look that was full of endearment directed at you as you stood beside him and sang to him.

“Excuse me, you look like you love me,” you sang, your hand trailing up his arm and across his back, your touch making him melt as he continued to smile and nod in agreement to the words of the song.

He pivoted to face you, his large hands landing on your hips that swayed to the tempo, a familiar hunger mixing with the adoration on his features.

“You look like you want me to want you to come on home…”

He nodded again, a quiet ‘Yeah’ sounding off his breath.

Before you could get another line out his mouth was covering yours, bending you back to dip you as he supported you with his arm on your lower back, your friends all cheering around you.

You gasped for air when he pulled you up again and broke your kiss, seeing him lick his lips that were still stretched in the most gorgeous, crooked smirk, and you knew you couldn't be expected to wait any longer to have him.

“Take me home, Will,” you whispered, a seriousness falling over your words despite the cheery tone of the song still playing around you.

“Anything you want, sweetheart,” he purred, his lust-filled eyes flickering over your features.

Will made sure rides were arranged before you left, confirming with Frankie that he would help get the rest of the group home in his truck and that the other girls would get a cab as was previously planned.

“I can’t believe Benny and Jess,” he commented, smiling as he looked back over his shoulder at them while he held the door open for you.

“They suit each other,” you said warmly, a sense of contentment and joy filling you and feeling like everything was finally turning out right.

Raindrops sprinkled on your head when you stepped outside, the night air dewy and warm, breathing in the smell of rain instead of stale smoke and spilled beer.

The lights on Will’s truck flashed twice as he hit the button on his keys to unlock it, illuminating the steady streams of rain that seemed to be falling more with each second.

You went to step around to the passenger side, but stopped when Will called to you.

“Hey, get back here.”

There was a hint of mischief in his eyes and a playful grin tugged up one side of his mouth, his hands held out with his palms facing upward for you to take which you happily did.

He closed his hands around yours and pulled you into him, kissing you hard, a low chuckle rumbling through you as he wrapped his arms around your back and held you closer to him.

You let out a squeal that was swallowed by him, the rain falling faster and harder and soaking through your clothes within seconds, the sound of each drop hitting the hood of his truck echoing loudly in the otherwise quiet parking lot.

You threw your arms up around the back of his neck, arching your body into his, his hands roaming your back and lower to your bum, squeezing and groping you without shame.

“Mmm,” he growled against your lips, slowing your kiss as he brought his hands up to hold either side of your face.

The smile on your lips was lazy and swollen and they glistened with moisture from both the rain and his mouth, the orange glow from the light pole in the corner of the parking lot illuminating them and making him even hungrier to get you home.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he declared, kissing you again as the rain continued to fall down on you, feeling rushed and unhurried all at once.

Will sighed for the third time, adjusting his pillow on the bed and turning over frustratedly.

You didn't say anything, waiting to see if he would calm down or if the situation was about to escalate.

Benny’s t.v. was so loud in his room it was as if it was on the nightstand beside Will’s bed, and his loud laughter that followed the noise of the show was just as extreme.

“Ben!” Will shouted, propping himself up and hitting the wall behind him with his hand.

He waited a few seconds but nothing changed, the volume remaining the same as he clearly went unheard.

“Ben!” he yelled again, hitting the wall three more times. “Turn it down, man! Fuck!”

He fell back against his pillow hard, breathing out heavily as he ran his hand over his face.

“Jesus Christ.”

“Do you want to go to my house instead?” you offered, knowing this likely wasn't going to end well, the tension between the two brother’s having increased over the past week.

They were all little grievances that seemed to be adding up; getting in each other’s way or eating the last of whatever food, a mess left in the kitchen or one of them doing a load of laundry while the other was in the shower, the small spats evolving into something you knew would come to a head.

Benny laughed even harder and Will shook his head in agreement. “Yeah. Before one of us punches the other.”

“You mean you punching him?” you giggled, climbing out of bed to get dressed.

“Exactly,” Will said, his eyebrows high on his forehead as he stood and grabbed his boxers from the floor and then a t-shirt. “I love the kid and I appreciate him taking me in, but man does he ever get on my nerves sometimes.”

You stopped where you were on the opposite side of the bed, frozen and without thinking as you blurted out something you had been considering for weeks now.

“Move in with me.”

Will stopped too, his hands landing on his hips after having pulled on his track pants. staring at you across the queen sized mattress.

“What?”

“Move in with me,” you repeated, smiling as you shrugged, your heart pounding in your chest as you saw the grin on his face grow.

“Really?” he asked, his tone and expression completely surprised.

“Yeah, really.”

You stood there nodding, watching his features change from shocked to elated, an emotion turning his blue eyes as wet as the waters they resembled as he walked over to you and grabbed hold of your face, leaning down to kiss you.

It had felt a bit silly to keep going back and forth between houses, one of you usually forgetting something you needed or having double of everything so you didn’t have to drag everything to and from, and since you got back together there wasn’t a night you could go without sleeping beside each other.

You were so nervous to ask, but this seemed to be the best way to go about it, your instincts taking over and giving you the confidence needed to get out of your own head and dive in, knowing from his reaction that he wouldn't be anything other than happy and excited.

He pulled away from you and looked at you with so much love and appreciation in his eyes, his thumbs rubbing your cheeks as he worked to get his words out.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he began, glancing down briefly between your bodies to try to control his emotions. “I've spent so long never having a home, bouncing from place to place between deployments, and when I did have my own,” he paused, taking a deep breath before continuing, “the other person didn’t want me to be a part of it.”

It always broke your heart to hear of the hell his ex put him through, unable to believe someone could treat him so poorly when all he ever was was loving and honourable, and it made your decision in asking him to live with you even more right.

“I want you, Will. I want all of you, always,” you whispered, nudging his cheek with your nose, feeling his breath gasp out onto your lips when he exhaled a relieved cry.

You wrapped your arms around his torso, holding him tight until he was ready to pull away from you.

“Let’s go home, Miller,” you smiled, holding his hands where he squeezed yours three times.

He pulled in your driveway and parked his truck just as he had all the other times before, only this time it felt different.

Your house had always felt like home to him, but now it actually was, and the feeling he had in his chest was overwhelming.

“You can start moving your stuff over tomorrow,” you said, making him look over at you with a soft smile. “I’ll be at work but you might as well get a start.”

“Yeah, okay,” he nodded, smiling bigger.

You both got out of the truck and started walking toward the door, you filing through the keys on your keychain for the one for the front door.

“I’ll get you one made tomorrow,” you said, putting it in the lock.

“Are you sure you want this?” Will asked, making you stop what you were doing and turn to face him.

A solemn look was on his face, his apprehension and insecurity clear on his features even in the dark.

“Will…” you urged, stepping toward him. “I’ve never been more sure. I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”

He smirked and looked down at the porch, sighing as he seemed to realize that his anxiety was getting the better of him.

“I was thinking about asking you for a while now, I was just nervous and thought it was too soon or you wouldn’t want to–”

He cut you off when he crashed his mouth against yours, pulling you into him at the same time he turned the doorknob to open the door, walking inside while still attached to your lips.

You broke apart after a minute, and you stood breathless as you watched Will gently close the door, keeping eye contact with you the whole time.

The smile he gave you and the look in his eyes lit your skin on fire, and you held your breath without thinking, watching as he walked toward you slowly.

“If this is going to be our house,” he spoke carefully, “Then I’m going to need to fuck you on every, single, surface…”

He closed the space between you, forcing you to lean back against the small hall table that sat on the wall, the clink of his keys in the dish where you kept yours making you jump.

“Starting now.”

A wicked smile that made you melt dressed his gorgeous lips, his face hovering beside yours but not touching you, teasing and testing your patience.

“Turn around, sweetheart,” he cooed, and as you did, your track pants were already being tugged down your hips, your panties along with them, and you braced your hands on the wall knowing that the table wouldn’t support the force he was about to unleash on you.

“Are you wet for me, baby?” he asked, driving his hand between your legs where he stroked through your folds to check.

You gasped at the sensation and pressed your hips down to increase the contact, needing to feel as much of him as you could even if you weren’t ready to take him yet.

It didn’t take long though, feeling your slick accumulate and spread on his fingers the moment he planted his lips on your neck and started kissing you, your moans sounding out to mix with his heavy breathing as he got more worked up with each second that ticked by.

You reached behind you and grabbed his hard cock through his pants, running your palm up and down his length that strained through the soft material, his teeth nipping at the skin on your neck in response.

“Fuck, sweetheart, let me in that pussy,” he growled, pulling his pants down where his cock sprung free and you were able to massage the silky, bare skin before he shoved it between your cheeks and dragged it in and out to prep it with your arousal.

Just to be sure you were lubricated enough, Will spit in his hand and covered his shaft, his teeth clenching together tight as he did, watching you arch your back to shift your ass closer to him, your legs spread to display your waiting cunt for him.

He drove in hard between your folds, filling you in one swift movement, his thrust slamming you forward with such force it jolted the table against the wall, your hands flying up to stop yourself from falling into it too.

Will didn’t seem to care about marking up the paint or how unsteady you were on your feet, hammering into you with a ferocity that made your head spin and your body respond by succumbing to his movements, feeling your climax already building quickly, a shiver running up your spine.

“You feel so fucking good,” he growled, his pace increasing despite you finding it unbelievable that it could, and he wrapped one hand around to your front that wasn’t holding your hips to keep you on his cock, grabbing at your tits that shook under your thin t-shirt.

You did everything you could to find something to hold onto, the wall no use with your hands slipping down it, the table shaking violently in front of you, but it was all you had, and as you landed your palms on it you saw the dish holding both your sets of keys in it wobble to the edge and fall, the glass smashing on the floor.

A laugh escaped you, quickly turning into a cry as Will continued to destroy you, his name coming off your lips in a mix of a plea and a praise.

“God, Will!”

The tip of his cock hit your g-spot with each blow, making you ache and melt with each second that passed, your mouth hanging slack while uncontrollable moans came out of it, your resolve reduced to nothing.

“Look at you taking my cock so well,” he praised, a bit of amusement heard in his voice, giving your nipple a twist before lowering his hand to your clit where he rubbed it quickly and aggressively as he kept his brutal tempo.

“Fuck!” you wailed, your eyes squeezing shut as your body jolted from his advances, slipping between falling apart and holding off your imminent orgasm, wanting it to happen just as badly as you wanted this to never end.

“God damn,” he muttered, stealing a glance down at his cock disappearing in and out of your cunt that leaked and coated him with your cream.

That addictive, blinding euphoria ripped through you, making you buckle and collapse in a spasm but Will was there to catch you, supporting you with his arms wrapping around your torso while he rammed into you and prolonged your high, letting up something he could never consider.

Broken wails of his name decorated with curses spilled from your mouth, feeling your body start to come back to functioning right when he was losing his control, his grunts bellowing out loud and clear behind you as he used you to fuck to his end.

He held you close to him, gripping your flesh tight as he bucked furiously into you and filled you with his cum, and you purposefully squeezed your walls around his pulsing cock to draw every last drop out of him.

The scruffiness of his beard scratched your neck, adding to the overwhelming sensations already bombarding you, feeling goosebumps erupt on your skin as you shivered and his breath blew out on the wet spots left behind on your neck from his mouth.

He stuttered his hips against your ass one last time, a quiet curse coming off his lips as he started to settle from his high.

Will pulled out of you and assessed the area around you, seeing the shattered glass to the left of where you both stood, and carefully kneeled on the rug, his hands smoothing down your waist, his lips meeting the soft skin on your hips and bum.

He heard your smile, a sated noise passing off your lips, making him ache to have you close to him again and not wanting to move on from this moment quite yet.

Grabbing your hand, he tugged on it for you to follow him.

“Come here a sec,” he requested quietly, looking up at you as you turned around and complied, meeting him on the floor where he pulled you to lay with him.

Will sighed and let his head thud against the hardwood floor, staring up at the ceiling as he relished in the movement of your fingers gently sweeping up and down his stomach after having lifted his shirt up, your head nestled on his chest.

“So, every room in the house?” you asked, a playfulness clear in your voice.

“Not just every room,” he corrected. “Every surface.”

You squealed when he pinched your ass, pulling you tighter to his body where his laugh rumbled through him and onto you, your hand dancing up the trail of blond hairs that connected his navel to his groin.

You shifted your feet and kicked one of your sets of keys that had fallen, the jingle of them making you giggle and readjust your head on his chest after glancing to see you hadn’t hit any of the broken glass.

Will grabbed a chunk of it and held it up. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

“You better wait to see what else we end up breaking.”

He laughed and let the piece fall back onto the floor beside him, turning his head to press a kiss on the top of yours, and inhaled another deep, satisfied breath as he closed his eyes, thinking how lucky he was to be loved by you.

---

Part 10

Taglist:

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@littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90

@paintlavillered @casa-boiardi @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @justreblogginfics

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#will miller #triple frontier #charlie hunnam #will miller x female reader #will miller x reader #will 'ironhead' miller #will miller smut #william miller #william 'ironhead' miller #triple frontier fic #charlie hunnam characters

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space-atrium · 3 months ago

Text

Jiuyuan (scumcum) au where something goes wrong when the system trys to plop sy into sj body

(It arrives to early)

They end up in this mind-void space with the system; sy and sj start arguing with the system.

Somehow sj convinces the system to give him the protag Halo, but the system also has to shift around the other character halos to accommodate this.

(Something something pidw already happened as a written story there for this version of the world is different ect ect)

As a consequence, the system gives Sy a love interest halo because all others are fixed to characters or violate some rule about transmigrators, but there's plenty of li-halos to go around!

Unfortunately giving sj the protag Halo turns the story's genre into a tragedy, neither shen want this, they want a different genre.

But the system actually isn't in charge of classifying genres, it can give missions and change character classification.

So the system makes sy an oracle, his mission to aide sj if they want to change the story's genre. The system release them back into the world, sy is just tossed somewhere in a freshly new adult body, inevitably gets trapped somewhere.

Sj first mission from the system: find sy!

Meanwhile sqh gets an alert from his system for an account upgrade.

His options are; upgrade his account to vip admin* and lose all acquired b points, or Continue with current status

(*Conditions apply)

I don't see sqh willing charging his system status so something will have to happen to force him.

This stuff all happened while sy and sj where in the mind-void space.

So sj mission, he has to leave the sect to do it, the system is unhelpful in giving info on where sy is, sj has to search by himself. When he finds sy, hes been imprisonment by some rogue cultivators??(villain of the week goons??).

(Sy had barley been in this world for a week when he got captured for being an oracle, Sj finds him almost a month later) Sj discovers that sy has a first level golden core and of course gets pissed about it, sy never even worked for that while sj still doesn't have one.

Sy like 'chill I know where all the overpowered cultivation boosters are; the system gives a new mission: help sj advance to golden core level 1 with oracle powers!

(It's more complicated then that; getting the right booster depends on, time of day, faze of moon, time of season, type of cultivation- spiritual or physical, or even if you have demon ancestry)

What follows is a quest that takes much longer then it should, getting sidetracked, lost, attacked, kidnapped… Sj has been away from the sect much longer than he said he would (yes sj did get his cultivation booster eventually).

Funny thing, sy has this stat according to the system called: GODs favorite (derogatory). He's gods favorite hater.

Sqh after going through things on his updated account finds out there are other system users! And he can contact them through his system!!

(And that someone else has the protag Halo!!??)

Sj and sy randomly get a notification for "message from GOD" yelling ensures.

Yes sy is sqh's oracle

#svsss #shen qingqiu #shen jiu #shen yuan #shang qinghua #jiuyuan #scumcum #scum villain #ren zha fanpai zijiu xitong #svsss au #protag halo sj au #atrium aus #the system did give sy actual oracle powers #he wont realize untill later when he starts knowing things that weren't in the book #scum villain self saving system

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bunnisari · 1 year ago

Note

can you write one when its like, reader x plug!connie where they like toxic off and on, but he still spoils her and all that because they in love fr. he's like a real jealous type and is lowkey overprotective. but they always together and spend alot of time with eachother

No matter what you were always gonna be Connie’s.

No matter how many times you guys “broke up” you still belonged to him and everyone knew.

It was hard to strive as a now “single” woman. All of your old hoes were wiped off the face of the earth somehow (thanks to Connie). Any new guy that has the potential of being just a one night stand was scared away by a pair of emotionless eyes that stared you down from across the club.

Every night out with your girlfriends was ruined, any attempt to hook up with someone. ruined

Connie was everywhere you were. You blocked him on every social media, but he still created more accounts just watching your page. He also had eyes on you everywhere. You’d often see some of his most trusted guys at the mall, updating him on your safety.

His friends are so faithful to him it’s frustrating. Your bestfriends were his bestfriends, due to the fact that you were always around you all just became so close!

But when you have a girls night out with Mikasa and Sasha they are always cockblocking for connie.

“That guy was a dick Y/N”

“I dunno maybe you should just get back with Con”

Everyone around you did nothing but encourage you to get back with him, even your parents!

They love having him around and he’s excellent help in the kitchen!

Connie is fairly toxic but you won’t really notice until you think about it.

He’s got himself so involved in your life and everything you do, people can’t help but ask about him! And that was what he intended to do.

There was no possible way you could forget him, he was everywhere. You broke up with Connie but Connie didn’t break up with you.

You lasted 35 days and 45 minutes before getting back with Connie. Ever since you “broke up” with Connie, you’ve been focusing on a clothing line you’ve been wanting to release. You gave up on trying to go out and find simple one night stands. You were fairly sex deprived but didn’t give in. Nothing a vibrator couldn’t fix.

You were over men and their stupid ass inconsiderate ass feelings. Connie didn’t stop taking care of you though. You’d get random paypals and cash apps from Armin or Eren. $850 - FOR from Connie :)

You still were extremely grateful though. This particular night you decided to go to a party Ony was throwing. You were going out for yourself tonight, plus you haven’t popped out in a while gotta keep these bitches hatin

You walked through the entrance of the house, “Way 2 Sexy” blasting through the speakers.

“Heyy sexyy” Sasha drags out as she wraps her arm around you, holding a cup in her hand. You hug her back with a smile on your face, ready to get wasted.

After many mixed drinks and a blunts worth inside of you. You stumbled to a bathroom, closing the door behind you.

You lip synced to the song that was playing from downstairs, checking yourself out in the mirror. Your eyes were red and low, all your movements sloppy.

As you re-applied your lip gloss, a deep voice spoke out to you.

“You’re avoiding me” You jumped at the sudden voice, thinking you were in the bathroom alone. You looked back in the corner of the bathroom, seeing Connie lean on the wall. He looked good as always.

“Connie just go” You mumbled in irritation, not wanting to give into the man in your drunken state.

“What did I tell you about watching your surroundings mama, hmm?” Connie stepped closer to you, “Didn’t even notice me following you. How are you supposed to stay safe princess” Connie fake pouted at you, looking down at you with pity. You could reject him all you want but your face told it all, you missed him so much.

“Sshut upp” You slurred, attempting to walk around him and out of the door.

“Talk to me” Connie’s hand gripped your waist, pulling you back in-front of him. “There’s nothing to talk about, we areee overrrr” Your own eyes filled with tears.

“Don’t cry mami,” Connie cupped your chin, making you look up at him, “Just take me back. I promise I won’t fuck up anymore. I swear i’m going crazy without you, I can’t stop thinking about you. Just please come back home with me” Connie rushed out, the tattooed drug dealer fought the urge to cry. You’ve been ignoring him like crazy. A part of him felt like you were really done with him and he couldn’t let that happen.

“Okay Connie, I will” You nodded, letting your emotional state take over. Your arms wrapped around Connie, just wanting to feel him. “I’m gonna go home with you”

The next day you were sitting on Connie’s lap at Eren’s house. You sat pressing sticky kisses up and down Connie’s neck while he counted a few bands, a joint resting in his mouth.

Eren rolled his eyes as he walked pass you two on the couch. As annoying as it was, everything felt back normal again. You were right where you were supposed to be, with connie <3

thinking about toxic!yandere!friend group now but in a platonic way

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kuni-is-daddy · 11 months ago

Text

Switch!Wanderer x Female Reader

Birthday Special

Ft: Mentions of nahida. Word Count: 1.32k

|Scaraficlist!|ScaraNSFWAlphabet

:// Spoilers for his lore if your not updated. Use of Darling, Good girl, Soft wanderer, subtle grinding. Kuni tries to be dom. Aftercare

CW: Minors do NOT interact past the cut! This is a NSFW POST!!

Wanderer was bored. So he decided to go to the sanctuary of Surasthana while you we're 'busy running errands at the akademiya'. Or, that was the story you went with. "Errands?" Nahida was sitting on her swing while flicking through the pages of a colorful animal book. Slimes, Whopper flowers and even vishamps were all printed in bold along the pages with pictures and definitions in the corner. "Hm.. But I thought she was getting ready for the surpri-" Nahida stuttered and bit her tongue. Wanderer noticed. "What is it?"

he insisted and she nervously closed her book. "Well Uhm.. I know your stance has changed, But shouldn't you take some time off to compose yourself? Its your-" "My birthday." He said sarcastically. "I don't celebrate that Irrelevant holiday; it wouldn't even apply to me as I wasn't even given a concrete date of birth. Who cares, It's just a waste of time when I could be doing other things." Nahida got up. " Well, if you're comfortable, maybe you can give a gift to someone else? Someone you care about! You know.. your thes-" Wanderer groaned. "Yes buer. I know my thesis is due. Youve reminded me. SEVERAL. Times." She smiled, now that Wanderer was attending lectures and studied at vahumana, the little archon was eager to read out his findings. Nahida then waved him off as he turned away. 'A gift..' He immediately thought of you. What would you like this time? Make-up, Clothes, should he take you out on another date? He didnt have much mora on him at the moment, But didnt care since it was for you. Wanderer sighed, He'd just have to go off his own idea.

Wanderer fumbled with his keys. You probably still weren't home anyway. He thought. He did tell you how he felt about his birthday. For all he knew his existence was just a hinderance. His mother, Niwa's suffering… The deaths in the clans…. Wait. Is that why you stayed in the akademiya for so long? A pit began to swirl in his chest and eyebrows furrowed at the thought. Nahida was obviously holding out on something when she referenced you. He tsk'd then turned the doorknob "Y/n?" and was greeted to your shared house covered in decorations. Wanderer fell completely quiet as he looked around the house, there we're teal and white decorations along the walls, A feast on the table, then gifts neatly tied in a bow. He took off his kasa hat, hanging it up by the door. Many gifts we're lined up along the hallway. Two we're in sparkling green wrap. 'From Nahida, To hatguy' Was written on the tag. While 3 other gifts we're from you. He Opened the door to his room; Light came from underneath. "Y/n. Darling? Are you-" "SURPRISE!!!!!!" You yelled and jumped off his bed, Kuni blinked as he heard a pop and watched shreds of confetti fall onto his head, one on his nose that he blew away a bit annoyed. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!" you ran up to hug him, practically jumping into his arms as you hugged him tightly.

You then pulled away as he looked you up and down. You wore a f/c dress, Stockings and a blue bowstring tied on your right wrist. He grinned and tugged you by his arm, pulling you closer and into his grasp. Before you could react his arm was already wrapped around your waist. "Hm. So all I have to do is indulge in this stupid holiday to have you wrapped up for me like this?" Kuni's gazed stayed focused on your now flustered expression with your body pressed against his, He trailed his free hand down to the hymn of your dress, Rubbing his fingertips along your clothed thigh. "Well..it is your birthday so I thought id-ah-give you~ something~" A small moan escaped your lips as he rubbed his hand along your ass, He scoffed a bit when he felt the latex of your stockings. "Oh? And what was that? This perfect body of yours that I can have whenever I want?" You nodded and stumbled in his touch, "Fuck.." Kuni let out a raspy breath. Your knee pressed against the forming tent in his pants. "If your done playing around, Im going to unwrap my gift now."

---

Kuni scooped you up properly, then placed you onto the bed. You looked at him eagerly as his pupils began to glow a fainter purple. He hastily took off his open chested kimono and bodysuit, discarding his vision as it dangled off the side of the bed. "Lay down for me." Kuni ordered. You complied and got comfortable, kicking off your flats and laying on the middle of the bed. He sunk his face into your neck and bit along your shoulder before leaving petals of kisses along your neck. You moaned softly into his ear and pressed your knee up a bit further, Stimulating him through his pants. "You- mn Slut. Rutting against me like this." Kuni bit harder, Sucking on your neck and creating red patches along your skin. He pulled away from your neck and smashed his lips against yours, His tongue eagerly intertwined with yours, Your lipbalm softly smeared against his own lips in friction as you moaned into his mouth. Kuni's hands shifted down towards your breasts, Cupping them harshly through your dress cloth. His member began throbbing through his pants, You wanted more. Touching him like this wasnt enough. Kuni pulled away and you whined. "Shh shh..Be patient my love." Your heart rate increased at his sudden sweet nickname, And as you we're distracted he pulled you near the edge of the bed and spread your legs. "K-kuni- wait! my stock-"

He tugged at the cloth and ripped it, Holes formed in the stitching near your thigh. Kuni's eyes widened a bit, You also had lacey lingerie on underneath. "Shit..You've been plotting this all day huh? To have me fuck you with these on?" His fingers pressed on the cotton, and slowly pulled your lingerie off as well. Your pussy was already glistening from his remarks and Kuni bit his lip. "God..I need to taste you right now darling, You look so good for me~ My perfect gift." Kuni leaned down in between your legs and licked along your folds. He was going to drag this out as long as he could. He took more short licks along your clit, Occasionally Licking at your bud while gripping you closer. Your legs twitched from his teasing. "Kuni..Please~ More~! I need it~!" You pleaded and kuni finally inserted his warm tongue inside your pussy. "Mn You taste s' good darling~" kuni's tongue licked along your walls and You bucked your hips a bit softly into his tongue. He then sunk farther in-between your legs, giving you a hazy sight of him pulling his bangs out of view and rubbing your clit against his lips. "K-kuni! wait your tongue~! Its-" "Loudher slut~ Mm-let me hear how good im making you feel~" You moaned into your hand while gripping tightly onto the bedsheets. Out of desperation to chase your high you pressed his head in between your thighs, Suffocating him in your taste. Kuni was so used to training himself how to breathe he forgot he was a puppet; He felt a bit lightheaded but couldnt help it as his length began throbbing so hard in his pants he felt as if he was going to cum untouched while rubbing your clit as you moaned out his name.

A coil snapped and you came undone, Letting out a muffled cry as you coaxed his lower face and tongue in your Juices, Squeezing your thigh one more time as your high subsided. The deafening silence blinked you out your daze as kuni got up from in-between your legs, Panting and his hair completely messy. "I- Kuni Im so sorry! Are you okay I didnt-" As you looked further down you noticed the wet stains coming from his shorts, He pulled the string and slid down his shorts and boxers, finally freeing his aching shaft. "Mmm..Fuck..You really are my slut arent you. My Pretty cocksleeve~" Kuni pulled up your dress finally over your head, frazzling your hair slightly and he panned your locks back in place with his thumb. "Spread your legs again for me.. darling And dont you dare-Hah..Get quiet again. Okay?" He said between panted breathes, you nodded and parted your legs again then held them up a bit until his tip grazed softly against your wet entrance, The puppet was already twitching from the contact and his precum smeared along your clit. Kuni looked up at you again, "Are you ready doll?" You hummed and he immediately plunged himself inside you, Moaning and groaning at your warmth.

"Ah~ F-fuck y/n." He bucked his hips up and down slowly. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer as he kissed under your neck with your head rested on his pillow. Kuni let out heavy pleasured sighs in sync with your moans as you chased your second orgasm. With his face dug into your neck he searched for your hand, gripping at the bow then intertwining his hand in yours. Your body arched further as his bed began to creak from his quickening pace. His ornament and kimono fell off the bed with a slight clink, But kuni was in a daze from your walls clenching around his cock. "Y-your so tight y/n i- im fuck~! Gonna cum~!" Kuni tilted his head up, biting harder into your neck while your nails dug into his shoulders. You quickly came again, shuddering from your second orgasm as you coated his cock. Kuni soon came after, bucking himself balls deep into you with a harsh thrust, Ropes of his Cum gushed into your womb, Painting your walls the color of his seed.

Wanderer panted into your chest, The only sounds coming from him we're soft sighs of relief from his pent-up orgasm. He tried getting up, slowly pulling himself out of your stuffed pussy and fetching a towel. He then held your hand softly, gracing you up as he wiped any sweat or fluids off your body. He was deafly quiet and focused on cleaning you up. He sighed and got up until you gripped tightly on his hand. "Stay with me kuni…Please~?" Your eye lashes fluttered, Blinking out the small dry tears. The puppet stared at you as you held his hand. He was never showered with this much affection. Nonetheless for his birthday, He didn't know whether to get emotional or frustrated. And chuckled to himself at another one of his fatal flaws that he couldn't understand. "Heh. So needy arent you? Fine. I'll stay." Kuni then laid down with you ontop of him, planting a kiss on the crown of your head while you rested on his chest.

The next morning you woke up limp with your knees wobbling. You stumbled out the bed, noticing a pair of clothes sitting by the edge with a small note attached. "Not bad, I guess cooking is another thing Your reliable on. Lessor lord Kusanali is having me attend another Boring lecture, She says its 'important' But I don't really care. Ps. Check my desk when your done, Then meet me at the Akademiya. Hurry up."

On his desk was a bouquet of flowers….And another note. 'Thank you for the birthday gift darling.'

A/N: I Havent wrote in like...WEEKS omg :( Ty all so much for your patience and HAPPY NEW YEAR!. Thank you for reading!!!

#genshin smut #genshin impact #scaramouche smut #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x female reader #wanderer smut #wanderer x female reader #wanderer x you #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #wanderer x y/n #wanderer x reader

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ns-games · 4 months ago

Text

2024 CrowdStrike Incident

I just wanted to document my day today. Since I feel this is a pretty major historical event in the history of computing.

From my understanding, the update that CrowdStrike pushed occurred last night, but I wasn't made aware of it until this morning.

I heard the notification for Microsoft Teams go off on my work phone a couple of times while I was still in bed. I decided not to answer right away since employees are supposed to call me directly if there's a production issue. However, around 5:30 this morning, I got a call from one of my team leads telling me that a CrowdStrike update got pushed earlier that has now "BitLockered" a bunch of computers.

For context, my team uses the term "BitLockered" for any time a computer crashes and requires the BitLocker encryption key to recover.

In any case, I was asked if I could run over to our local distribution center right away to start mitigating the damage. I immediately got up, got dressed, grabbed my work laptop and bag and left. I skipped my morning coffee and shower so I could get there ASAP.

When I finally managed to get inside the building, I started taking a look around the front office and saw several computers stuck on the Windows Recovery Mode screen. Already starting to look like a bad sign. I started booting up my work laptop, which I thankfully did not leave turned over overnight, and headed upstairs to a bank of production computers. As soon as I got up there, I saw a sea of Windows Recovery Mode screens.

By this point my Microsoft Teams notifications started going off non-stop, and I started running the recommended fix on one of the computers. Basically I was trying to make sure I understood how to perform the fix. At this point, it became apparent we were going to have to touch every endpoint in our network at every facility.

Around 6:00AM, I got a call from a manager from a separate facility asking me about what was going on. This is someone that's constantly just called me instead of submitting a help desk ticket, and I've tried to be patient with. Today I had to be a bit more blunt and state that I couldn't drop what I was doing to come over and help, but that someone would be there later today to assist. This manager continued to try and call me throughout the day, but I had to keep telling him that I was not going to be available all day.

Around 6:30AM one of my co-workers made it to the distribution center to help. I ran the fix on his laptop and we started working to fix each computer one by one. A bit later I noticed my mom texted me that she heard about this in the news. So I looked up "CrowdStrike" on Google and found that not only were we affected by it, but many other major companies were.

As we started getting workstations back online, it became apparent that was only going to be half the battle, as this issue caused most of our servers to crash as well. But at this point, we figured it would be best to continue to get as many workstations back up and running one by one. But because the servers were down, I kept getting asked if I could restore a connection, which unfortunately we couldn't do until the server team could run the fixes on our servers.

Eventually I was asked to join a Zoom call so I could start providing other facilities with BitLocker keys so they could start running the fix on their own computers. Some machines we determined could be fixed by reverting to a restore point. Others we had find a way to manually remove the "C-00000291*.sys* file by booting the computer into Safe Mode with Networking. Those devices ended up costing us a bunch of time to get back up and running.

By the time 5:00PM rolled around, I asked if I could go home and continue to work from there. So I took the opportunity to go home, get myself cleaned up, and continue to work. By 8:30PM it seemed that things had died down to the point we could stop for the day. I'm sure we've got a few machines we still need to apply the fix to, but we managed to get our core business back up and running within the matter of a few hours.

So yeah, long story. But I just felt like documenting it, given that this is an event that's probably going to be pretty well remembered in the history books.

#CrowdStrike #Outage

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brucewaynehater101 · 5 months ago

Note

do NOT kill Tim

stop being mean to tim in your fics when Bruce is right there to be mean to

let Tim run off and get into shenanigans with his friends while Gotham burns

maybe give tim amnesia and somehow gets reported as dead on a yj mission and his friends help him recover and accidentally on purpose don't mention anything about Gotham except Cass who is his sister and their friend so she's allowed and she sees Tim happy for the first time in so long that she goes along with letting Tim remember, or not, in his own time

and maybe he does remember, when they're in space and too far from Gotham for Tim to immediately rush back and try to fix things because fixing things, trying to help, has always been his first impulse, and he's convinced to wait, to see if anyone tries reaching out to him instead

and he becomes resigned as only cass reaches out, as the rest of the bats just accept that he's dead, without even a body, with just one line in a mission report, a mission report that they didn't even read, the bat computer just noted key words and updated red robin's profile accordingly in its system and no one noticed until someone mentioned that red robin had no patrol routes assigned for awhile and then the profile is brought up

and in the meantime space shenanigans for yj, including the retired ones, and cass who wants her brother to be happy

I mean... you're 100% fair in that I should emotionally beat up Bruce instead in my fics. I do have one where Tim leaves the Bats/Gotham. He has a goodbye conversation with Dick, Jason, and Damian, tries to have one with Bruce, and leaves a video/note for Alfred and Babs. I'd love to chat more about what he does afterwards if anyone wants to know more.

So... I have one fic where he leaves the Bats. There :)

As far as the rest of your ask, I'm so vibing with the amnesia. Let Tim get into wild adventures with his friends (family) and have Cass stop by to say hello. Maybe Tim goes to see her a bunch since he's no longer stuck in Gotham (if Cass is still based in Hong Kong).

I also absolutely love the idea where he gets his memories back in space and spends the entire trip back to Earth processing his thoughts. Should he go back? It's all he's known, but should he try to help out the Waynes some more? Tim is still doing good. He's still helping people. He's just no longer helping specifically Gotham and the Bats.

The part where the Bats don't notice he's dead is cruel and so delicious. Very tasty angst.

I'd also kill for Cass's POV in this (maybe a few chapters), where she discovers Tim is amnesiac, starts to realize the other Bats don't notice or seem to care about Tim (it's hard to understand the way you or a family member is being treated is wrong if that's "normal"), has her own growth and realizations about the Bats, and has complicated feelings about loving the people who are usually good to her but usually bad to Tim (in this AU).

I don't know as much about Cass's canon, but I would be interested to hear more about how her canon could or could not apply to this.

Then let the Bats have a meltdown that Tim is "dead" including their own warped perceptions of how they DO care/love Tim. Maybe they blame Tim for being distant, blame themselves, and try to hunt down who killed Tim. Let them remember certain interactions with Tim that RR remembers differently. Let the Bats be grey in their relationship with Tim because they never did mean to hurt him [they never realized that they did].

Just fun complexities of dysfunctional families :)

Moving on, let Tim be free from the Bats as they all collapse and chat about him. He can have his space adventures far from the chaos as they implode (perhaps the Bats try to take Gotham with them, and the JL has to get involved).

#dc comics #dc universe #thank you for the ask!!!!#dc au #tim drake #yj98 #cass wayne

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hvlplvss · 1 year ago

Text

| you know other women?

summary: in which y/n gets jealous over colby and he says the wrong thing.

warnings: y/n is lowkey toxic in ngl. but nothing serious. suggestive at the end, but no actual smut.

colby had recently been away, he’d been busy with sam filming some things for hell week. of course, he’d update y/n, his girlfriend of eight months, about what had happened and if he was okay.

he also posted updates on social media, which y/n was always excited to look at. always leaving a cute comment, or saying how much she missed him. something sweet.

but the post that she received on her instagram feed this morning, did not make her want to leave a sweet comment.

colby and sam were pictured, their friend amanda in between them. but what really got y/n in a pissy mood was the arm that hung over amanda’s shoulder. it was colby’s arm.

just like what he used to do when he first met y/n. so of course, the girl was annoyed and jealous. she didn’t even feel the need to like the post, let alone comment. she ignored it.

colby was expected to be home by the next morning, so y/n told herself to ignore the messages she received from colby that day. just so she could hold the grudge against him

colby looked at the four unread messages he had sent to y/n. his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. he turned towards sam showing him the messages, “have you heard from y/n at all today?” he asked.

“uhh yeah…” sam answered in confusion, “i messaged her this morning and she replied,” colby took his phone back and looked down at the messages once again. he decided to just send one last message to let her know that the two of them were nearly home. but once again there was no response.

he couldn’t understand what was wrong. had something happened at home while he was gone? maybe, a family issue? or had he done something that he hadn’t realised he’d done? he wasn’t sure, but he was slightly pissed off at the way she was acting.

the duo arrived back home finally, after a week of being gone. “we’re home, y/n!” colby yelled, in hopes of his girlfriend running down the stairs to greet him at the door. but nothing. no footsteps of her getting up, or a door creaking open. nothing.

colby looked over to sam, “i better go find her, she’s probably in a shitty mood,” the boy explained. sam nodded and walked off in the direction of the kitchen.

colby ascended the stairs and headed straight for his and y/n’s room. it was eerily quiet, so he decided to knock on the door as it was sealed shut, which definitely meant y/n was in a bad mood.

there was no reply, but he still opened the door anyway. colby peered into the room and saw y/n sat at her vanity table, which was slotted in the corner of the room, which was her side.

colby stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. he walked over to y/n, no reaction coming from her, even though her boyfriend had just came back from a week long trip.

“hey beautiful,” colby smiled, kissing the top of her head. still no response. colby looked at y/n in the mirror, but she didn’t even look back. she stared straight ahead, as she applied her concealer under her eyes.

colby huffed in frustration. something was clearly going on with his girlfriend, but she wouldn’t even speak to him at all, so how on earth was he supposed to find out.

“great, okay then, ignore me,” colby muttered under his breath, walking back to the bed. y/n looked at where colby had retreated to, glaring at his back to the point colby could feel the burning stare in his back.

y/n looked back at herself in the mirror, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath in. colby laid back on the bed, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

he opened instagram to check for any updates. he first checked on his own account, looking at his recent post.

which is when he realised. y/n hadn’t liked, nor commented on his post. which she always would do.

he then caught onto the reason why y/n was acting like this. he zoomed into the picture. where his arm hung loosely over amanda’s shoulder.

colby rolled his eyes and let out a scoff. he sat up on the bed, and held his phone out so y/n would be able to see the reflection of his phone in the vanity mirror.

“this is what you’re pissed about?” colby asked, his eyebrows raised.

y/n stilled her hand, which was now drawing eyeliner on her eyelid. she looked over to the reflection and looked back at herself, giving colby the answer to his question.

colby sat up even further and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “you’re the most jealous woman i know,” he stated, a slight smirk on his face.

y/n’s eyes looked up at herself in the mirror, then she turned around in her seat to look over at her boyfriend, who still wore a smirk.

“you know other women?” y/n spoke, for the first time.

colby rolled his eyes, throwing his head back, standing up and walking over to y/n, “oh come on y/n, everyone knows i only want you,”

colby stood behind y/n looking down at her in the mirror. “i’d hope so colby. i’m the only one for you,” she answered.

colby’s hand came up to the girls neck, wrapping his hand around it. “my jealous girl. now, you gonna make up for the attitude you’ve had?” colby spoke in a low voice, leaning down to y/n’s ear level.

she looked at colby innocently in the mirror, “or how about you fuck the attitude out of me?”

#sam and colby #colby brock smut #colby brock #colby brock x reader #sam golbach x reader #smut #colby brock imagine #hell week #the conjuring

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within-your-eyes-if · 7 months ago

Text

May 1st Progress Update

Hello all!

Very long update, so I apologize ahead of time.

April has been an incredibly productive month for me. I've made substantial revisions and have taken some time to reflect on possible changes for the future.

There are decisions I made earlier in the development of this story that, in hindsight, could have been handled better. While I will continue with the upcoming update as planned, I intend to take additional time afterward to revisit and refine various aspects of the game.

I truly love this story and want it to be the best it can be. I aim to look back on it with pride and minimal regrets. These changes will be comprehensive, affecting everything from narrative elements and gameplay mechanics to the presentation on itch.io.

I hope this update doesn't cause any concern; rather, I want to share this as part of my journey in developing this game, a process that occasionally requires stepping back and reassessing to move forward effectively.

With that said, here are some developments I've been working on that I haven't yet discussed. If you have any thoughts on some of these, I'd welcome the insight:

Guilt System Overhaul: I'm currently refining the code for the guilt system. The upcoming changes will significantly alter how guilt is calculated and displayed, emphasizing the impact of your relationships. For instance, lying to a character you're romancing will carry more weight. However, I'm carefully considering how to balance this to respect player agency, recognizing that not everyone may want their character to feel guilty in such situations. Your feedback on this would be appreciated before I start making final decisions — edit: you are welcome to comment on this post! (Sorry ;-;)

Skill System Overhaul: The foundation for the new skill system is done and functional in a test environment. However, I'm still evaluating whether its inclusion genuinely enhances gameplay or if it complicates things unnecessarily.

Extensive Coding Overhauls: Overall, I've done so much coding that I couldn't begin to tell you what all I've done. I combined things to both organize and streamline (though this might just effect me overall).

There is more to share, but I want to keep some surprises under wraps for now.

Future Support Update: I am in the process of setting up a Patreon, which I aim to launch next month. Initially, I considered using Ko-Fi for all supporter interactions, but the exclusive access features offered by itch.io make Patreon a better fit for what I want to achieve.

On Patreon, I will be providing a couple tiers. While one offers more than the other, here's a general overview of what I'll be offering: detailed progress updates, sneak peeks, alpha builds, special acknowledgments, early access, among others.

Ko-Fi will remain available for those who prefer to offer one-time support. Your support, whether recurring or one-time, is immensely appreciated and makes a significant difference in the continued development of my projects.

Beta Testing: Given the aspects of Patreon, how I approach beta testing in the future will be different. However, I will continue as I did last time with this one.

This month, I am aiming to begin the beta testing phase for the new Vice System. In light of changes to the test's parameters, previous applications have been cleared. If you're interested in participating, please reapply.

Please note, this test covers a lot of adult content — you must be 18 or older to participate (though really, you should be 18+ if you're even reading my story *finger wagging*). Ensure you are comfortable with explicit content before applying.

Application is found here.

Tumblr Asks: I will be making a separate post soon to address the reopening of Asks. Please be patient with me as I work through a couple of reasons why it was temporarily disabled. I appreciate your understanding and look forward to hearing more from all of you soon!

Closing Thoughts: Sorry again for the lengthy update, but thank you all for your patience as I continue refining and revising. Work on Chapter 3: Part Two is progressing, though there's still more to be done.

Wishing you all a wonderful month ahead!

#within your eyes if #wye progress update #wye general information #interactive fiction #work in progress #progress update #text based game

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lovecla · 2 months ago

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TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

chapter one:

➴ chapter warnings: shitty mom.

➴ word count: 2.6k

💌 from me to you: and finally, the first chapter of TYPA is here. i wanted to post this only when i had at least the first five chapters ready so you guys wouldn’t wait too long for updates, so thank u all for waiting. again, i cannot stress this enough: read the story’s warnings before reading the story!!! aaand i love u all!!! (also thank u for 200+ followers? insane!)

౨ৎ

2024, MARCH

YOUR ALARM went off at half past five, and you grunted, smacking it with your right hand, trying to make it stop yelling.

After you turned it off, you laid your bed on your pillow again, sighing. Turning your head to the side, you watched as Bella snored like she paid all of your bills and worked a nine to five everyday. You smiled, happy to see her so relaxed.

You got up, put on your slippers and walked to your bathroom, turning on the lights and regretting immediately after, because your eyes took a long time to adjust to the bright, white light.

You opened the tap, putting in warm water and gently wetting your face, before closing it and grabbing your cleanser and starting your morning skincare routine.

Even though you loved to stay in bed, there was something about the early hours of the day. You could go on with your morning with no one bothering you, just working on the steps of completing your morning routine with ease, while the world was still asleep outside— even though Los Angeles never got entirely asleep.

You can wash your face and apply your moisturizer, before stepping in the shower after letting your skin absorb the products. Then, you can scrub your body and exfoliate it, humming to this week’s top song on Spotify charts. You can dry yourself with your fluffiest towel, smear your skin with your favorite vanilla scented body lotion and perfume.

Then, you can wake Bella up, and force her to leave your bed so you can make it. She’ll growl and bark at you, but in the end she’ll be too eager to go outside to do anything else.

You’ll change into your outfit of the day, something cozy, and grab your keys before leaving the house with Bella by your side, taking her to the dog park your apartment complex has, and let her enjoy the synthetic grass while you stare at her, smiling from ear to ear.

You’ll both stay there for ten minutes, with you talking to her about everything and anything, while she sniffs around the place and answers your yapping with occasional barks.

Then, you’ll call her name and go back to your place, starving for food. You’ll make your breakfast, nothing too heavy— a cup of green tea and a yogurt bowl.

You’ll leave your house at sometime around seven a.m., after grabbing everything you’ll need for the day and saying goodbye to Bella, telling her that her dog sitter, Carly, will be there in just a few hours. You’ll get into the car your agency sent to you, greeting the driver and sitting in the back, checking the texts on your phone. And then, you will feel your heart stop inside your chest, because—

What the hell does she want? You thought, squeezing your phone so hard between your hands that, for a second, you thought you’d actually break it.

You haven’t seen your mom in a year. Or your family, for that matter. Your parents, your brother and Canada felt just like a distant, hurtful memory that you wanted to keep away from yourself, buried deep inside your heart.

After making your teenage years feel like hell, and after making you hate yourself in more ways you’d ever think possible, your mom got you signed at the most prestigious modeling agency in all LA, IMG Models. Some people online talked about how you were only the cover of last year’s VOGUE because you’re basically a Nepo Baby, and even though your social media team did their best to debunk those comments, you knew— everyone did— that they were right: you only reached the top that fast because you are the daughter of the editor-in-chief of Fashion and retired model, Jessica Carter.

Not that you weren’t pretty, no, you were. But your last name opened more doors for you than your face and body ever would.

But at the end, you were grateful to be living a normal life— as normal as it could get— away from Canada. That country held painful memories and people that you would much rather watch from afar.

You didn’t reply to her text, you didn’t need to. She made it very clear that your attendance wasn’t an option. Even at twenty-two years old, your mom would always have the final word.

You arrived on set ten minutes after reading that text, sad to have your good mood ruined. But you still had a long day of work ahead of you, so you should just do what you’re best at: pretending you’re fine.

You spent your entire morning at a photoshoot for Elle, posing for infinite pictures and changing as fast as you could, while trying your hardest not to focus on your mom’s text.

Glad to be working with people who were actually nice, you slipped into your work headspace and when you checked your phone again, it was lunch time.

Grabbing the biggest salad from the agency’s restaurant, you ate with no hunger or pleasure. Thinking of your life back in Canada made you sick.

After lunch, you were sent to another location so they could take more pictures of you, the photographer, Garret, making sure to get the right photos of you.

At six, you were ready to head back to home, but unfortunately, part of your job meant interacting with people on social media. Sometimes answering questions online, making TikToks or even posting on Instagram.

౨ৎ

liked by gigihadid, champagnepapi, darianka and 560,929 others.

madisoncarter @britishvogue 🧸

View all 12,082 comments

user1 she’s just so pretty i cant

user2 looked at my gf and sighed

user3 user4 this yo boyfriend?

user4 user3 EX boyfriend now.

britishvogue Stunning 🤩

imgmodels you never disappoint bbg 😌

user5 i love u thank u for blessing my feed

౨ৎ

“ARE YOU leaving already, darlin’?”

Nicholas’ voice echoed as you bend over to grab your purse.

Looking at him, you smiled, tiredly. “Yes, hum. Actually, I need to talk to you about something,” you took a step further, stopping in front of the man you've known as your boss the past four years.

“Yeah, go ahead.” He leaned against the wall, waiting.

“I need to have Friday off,” you started, biting your lip. “It’s a family thing. Promise I’ll be back on Monday.”

“Madison, you’re literally the only model here who hasn’t missed a work day for an entire year, maybe even more than that,” he laughs, blond hair moving as his head turns around. “If you want to take the entire week off, you’re allowed to.”

A week in Toronto? No, thank you.

“No, I just need Friday.” You replied, adjusting your bag on your shoulder.

“You’re free to go, my love. Send kisses to your mom, okay? Tell her to visit us sometime.”

“Of course, thank you.” You kissed his cheek quickly before heading back to the elevator.

On your way home, you thought about all of the things your mom might want of you. Sure, she said that she wanted the family to get together and all of that, but you’re sure there’s more to that. She wouldn’t make you fly to Canada just because she wants to have dinner with you. She’s just not that kind of person.

Entering your apartment, the first thing you did after removing your shoes was go looking for Bella, who had somehow managed to lock herself inside the guest's bathroom, and was whining loudly.

“Naughty, naughty girl,” you kissed her, petting her fur gently. “How did you even do that?”

She just licked you and you sighed, the long hours of work finally hitting you completely. You just needed to shower, drink your daily glass of warm milk and play with Bella for a while before going to bed.

Locking away all thoughts related to Canada, you followed your night routine like you’d usually do, trying your hardest to let the people you buried years ago stay away like you wanted them to.

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x model!fmc #quinn hughes angst #quinn hughes au #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes smut #TYPA

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yukirayu · 3 months ago

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Slow Damage Timeline

After countless edits and reviews, I wish to share with you a project of mine: the Slow Damage timeline, which pinpoints (or approximates) how old a character is when a certain event in their life occurred.

Note: The link is in the image description (though I'll also share the direct link here, to be safe). 😉

The remarks below are also found in the spreadsheet, but I'll go ahead and share them here, just in case.

Remarks:

Some of the characters’ ages are confirmed, while others are left for us to guess. The latter half has their final ages (deceased or alive) colored red as a distinguisher, and I did the same for the latest year that the visual novel is likely to currently take place in.

The general age ranges of the characters when they'd attend school, regardless of the level of education, are merely an approximation, especially at university-level and onwards. I did some research on the education system in Japan (and China, for one case), but the answers vary from source to source, especially when I try to narrow it down to a specific course, so I'm just going with what seems most probable depending on each character's history (as well as personality).

What I've said in #2 also applies to the years in which each event is likely to have taken place. I can't guarantee that it's 100% accurate, but what I can at least say is that it's a close guess (in other words, it may have even happened 5 years earlier or later).

Try as I might, I couldn't include every single character because even as I gleaned through the VN and the artbook over and over, there's too little that we know about them. A few examples are Inada and the unnamed vampire.

As much as I wish I could, I never got around to playing Clean Dishes (the fact that it's a mobile game restricted to Japan being the primary reason). Anything I know of it is from the summaries and (currently ongoing) translations given about the story. but it is at least certain that the entire plot of the spinoff (including its epilogue and its own sequel drama CD) happen before the events of the main game, since a certain trio is still working for the Takasato Group, and Towa is still living in the clinic (as well as working there).

I have to stress that about 70% of the timeline's contents consists of educated guesses. The education aside (especially for some characters), the events in each person's timeline is confirmed to have occurred; the hard part is pinpointing the when for at least half of those events, given that the VN left only hints or even none at all.

I've updated this spreadsheet with all the information I could gather (and will still update it in the future whenever needed), but I am only one person so there still might be something that I missed. If you know anything that has yet to be here or requires some revisiting, DM me about it. Of course, please be civilized in your approach.

Extra: Also found in the spreadsheet is the status of each character per route, whether they're dead, alive, or if their fate is uncertain, especially when taking what happens in each route into account.

#slow damage #surodame trivia

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itsonlydana · 9 months ago

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THRANDUIL'S GUIDE TO: LOOSING A JOB / WINNING A HEART | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader 👑

You are late for work and sure that your boss will sack you. Instead, Thranduil takes you and his kids to the park, and somehow the day takes a turn for the better.

tags/warnings: modern!AU, nanny!AU, mutual pining; characters: Thranduil, young!Legolas, young!Tauriel; rating: sfw

wordcount: 8,4k

an: sorry sorry sorry for not updating "passenger princess"; please take this as a small apology. I'm posting this after watching 'anyone but you' so know i'm dancing and singing rn

+ general m.list +

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot - especially with longer projects <3

The subway doors shut close with a squeak, mere seconds after you stepped out. They gave you barely any time to think about whether you had everything important with you before the train hissed away again, disappearing into the dark tunnels that twisted like endless labyrinths beneath the city.

Not that you had the time for it; anything forgotten was lost, and you were already far too late to mourn a possibly left-behind lip balm.

Pressing your bag tightly against your side, you joined the stream of people, moving like an army of ants from the platform to the escalators.

It took a while before you could step onto the moving steps – of course, the third grade that had already been on the train when you had rushed in left at the same stop as you.

Screaming, uncontrollable children surrounded you, and you did your best not to make eye contact with any of them, impatiently staring at the approaching exit, the clear sky finding its way through high towering glass buildings.

As a very rude man in sportswear pushed ahead, mumbling swear words that the nanny in you wanted to scold him for, one of the kids stumbled against your legs.

Clammy hands grasped at the coat shielding you from the brisk autumn winds, its numerous inner pockets offering a secure haven for your valuables against the avaricious hands of pickpockets. Gazing downward, you found yourself locking eyes with a boy, his wide blue eyes reminding you that you were so so late...

You gave him an encouraging smile, causing the child to loosen his grip but he didn't let go until you reached the fresh air outside.

Out of habit, you quickly bent down, ignoring the complaints of an elderly lady behind you, and zipped up his bright orange jacket.

It was still early in the morning, the air cold, coloring the tips of noses and cheeks in blushes. Even if you didn't know this child, no parent would be happy to take a day off because of a sick child; especially not here.

Once the boy was properly bundled up, his big smile disappearing behind the fleece of the jacket, you straightened up and made your way through the crowd of people.

Somewhere in your pockets, your phone vibrated now that there was a reception and bombarded you with all the messages that didn't reach you in the last twenty minutes underground.

The sidewalk was bustling, shoulders pushing against shoulders, making it impractical to fish out the phone at the moment; it felt like a time-wasting endeavor, and the chance that you would start crying if anyone snapped at you for slowing down was far too high.

This whole morning left you on the brink of a meltdown, the stress bubbling under the surface, an itch under your skin that didn't want to leave you–

Opting for a brisk walk, you maneuvered through the lively streets of New York, a city of grand dreams that, at the moment, felt a bit out of reach.

Three years ago, following a string of peaceful years growing up in your quiet suburb, one of the Universities you had applied to offered you a full scholarship.

That led to packing up all your possessions, and you transitioned from the comfort of your familiar childhood room to a cramped studio, outweighed by more "cons" than "pros."

You initially went with the expectation of finally fulfilling the big dream, only to realize that living the dream in New York brought problems with them– like an expensive water and electricity bill, unfriendly neighbors that stole the washing machines and dropped your clothes onto the floor, and the inescapable feeling of loneliness amid millions.

After uni, one odd job followed another; "dishwasher in a food truck" and "Christmas-card door-to-door selling with Girl Scouts" were some of the tamer examples.

You did what you had to do, even if that sometimes involved horrendous pay for even more horrific work hours.

Sure, they were definitely experiences , but many of them were the kind that your parents used as a reason to convince you to come back home.

They were right on some level, there were nights you cried sitting alone on the floor of your apartment until the neighbors below you knocked on their ceiling, complaining about the noise, but these evenings were few and far between.

Ever since you got your current job it had reduced to once or twice a month!

It was by far the best on the now 40-line long list of abandoned "experiences." It was flexible, paid more than enough, and you actually looked forward to the days you had to work.

At first, you couldn't believe your eyes when Thranduil Oropherion (the Thranduil Oropherion, multimillionaire and head of the 'Greenleafs Children's Book Publishing' well before hitting thirty, face of the Times on many occasions) contacted you through an unknown babysitter matchmaking site.

Fortunately, the site wasn't so unknown that someone could pretend to be him; otherwise, you wouldn't have engaged in the subsequent chat, where you shared your babysitting experiences with him, and you certainly wouldn't have gone to the first meeting.

It had been in a small café near Central Park, and thankfully not at some fancy Italian place, as your remaining money for the month wouldn't have covered elegant evening wear.

Mr. Oropherion, Thranduil, as he insisted daily, was, unsurprisingly as attractive in person as the press had described.

You had seen pictures, heard of his name, maybe even looked him up once or twice ever since you started babysitting rich kids who had his books lining their shelves without reading them once. They were the kind of children who said "Please" nearly as often as "Thank you."

Close to never.

After being confronted with the beautifully bound books in most of their study rooms, you had googled the Green Leaf emblem, only to have the picture of the hottest man you have ever seen pop off.

The legs that went on for days, the long blonde hair, the warm voice sending chills down your spine as he explained his need for a new sitter- funny how you had no idea what the reason was, but knew exactly how his dark brows had furrowed and raised, how his voice had dropped lower on some words and higher on others.

Easy to say that you wasted no second after he asked you if you still wanted the job (still? To this day it was a mystery what he meant with that, lost in daydreams about his blue eyes and the firm handshake) for you to agree.

One contract signing later, and you were officially the babysitter of the sweetest kids you have ever met.

Legolas and Tauriel not only listened to you, but they even cooperated and never caused trouble when it came to bedtime or leaving the park. They naturally reached for your hand on the street, ate their vegetables obediently, and even when you had to be strict on rare occasions, it never took long for the sulking faces to light up again.

It wasn't just the children that you took a liking to.

The initiate awe of meeting Thranduil turned into a full-blown crush faster than you could have blinked; a sentiment you would only ever confide in your diary.

The prospect of explaining how sad it was to fall in love with your remarkably young boss was not inviting, and you would do your best to avoid those conversations.

Falling in love with someone in a position of authority, who paid you for your services monthly, particularly in a role where you cared for his children, was not an ideal situation.

Nevertheless, you found yourself deeply infatuated with – his looks, charm, smile, and the way he effortlessly made you forget all worries when he returned home, embraced by his children, eager to hear every intricate detail of their day.

And yours.

Falling for him had happened quickly, too quickly to really think about how it could affect your job in the case of an outburst of feelings, whether accidental or intentional.

You saw it as a kind of adventure, like diving into a novel where you could experience the feelings of love without ever wanting to address them.

And sometimes, when there was just the two of you left at the dinner table and he would offer you wine and a smile, you had the impression the conversations turned into teasing and flirting.

It was important for you to keep this job, which is why the fear of getting fired for being late today made your legs move, and you managed to cover the usual fifteen-minute relaxed walk despite the piercing cold air in your nose and lungs in seven minutes.

Eight minutes earlier, and still twenty-three minutes late, you arrived at one of the many towering skyscrapers, with glowing cheeks and sweat drops rolling down your temples.

The doorman in the lobby looked at you with an understandable and sympathetic look through his small glasses before letting you enter the elevator and pressing the button for the Oropherion residence.

The minute it took to reach the 53rd floor - 53, seriously, that's an absurd number of floors - you loosened the red scarf around your neck, finally being able to breathe without it feeling like you swallowed ice, and unbuttoned your coat to fish out your phone.

As soon as the screen lit up, all other messages faded away.

Except for one–

Thranduil O.: I write to inform you that...

Dizziness, not from the height you must be at, but from the thoughts of all the stressful evenings when you had called through stores and sent resumes one after another.

You knew how much your boss valued punctuality; he relied on you to arrive at the agreed-upon time so he could leave for work in peace, and today, you had disappointed him.

He was a nice man, friendly but strict in important matters.

You had witnessed more than once how icy he could become when his driver had picked him up late for reasons within his control, and so far, you were glad not to have experienced that side of him.

Was he late today? What if he had an important meeting or had to sign contracts? What if he could pack up the publishing house because of you? (That this was more than unlikely didn't cross your mind at the moment, but much later)

With trembling hands, you tried to unlock your phone before the elevator reached the penthouse, but you failed several times at entering your password, fingers hitting the wrong numbers, which didn't help your agitated mood.

At the same moment, you finally managed to enter your password correctly and access your messages from the lock screen, the loud ping of the elevator startled you.

Quickly, you slipped your phone into your pocket again and prepared for the worst, like bidding farewell to the sweetest children on earth and the best boss, who would easily hire a new sitter.

The doors opened the same moment a piercing scream echoed through the apartment, high in pitch and undoubtedly Tauriel.

"No no no no"

The worst scenario sprung into your mind, the children left alone and hurt, climbing on expensive furniture, and possibly injured, all because your alarm didn't ring.

As fast as your legs could carry you, you ran into the adjacent living area from where the crying had come. "Tauriel?" you called out; the children should know that you were there now and could help.

But the next words died on your tongue, didn't make it over your panicky opened lips.

The image of an injured Tauriel and an apartment thrown into chaos faded with the last bit of breath in your lungs.

Nowhere were traces of such chaos; nothing was out of place, except for the children's toys, like some dolls and Lego pieces scattered on the oakwood floor.

There were no injuries, no tears, and no abandoned children.

There, on the floor in front of the gray couch, was Thranduil, stretched out on the usually neatly arranged sofa cushions, a screaming Tauriel balanced on his raised hands and a laughing Legolas stretched across his stomach, trying to reach for his sister.

You didn't know what happened to your thoughts.

Why they strayed away from the fact that Thranduil was here, at home, while he should be at work, and that this was surely your last day, and instead clung to the happy family image that you had envied for several months now.

Then Thranduil's gaze fell on you, and your heart stumbled over the smile on his face. The children also looked up, joyfully calling your name, and you waved to them, a forced smile on your lips.

You only had one chance to explain, one chance to save this beloved job before it slipped through your fingers. "I'm so sorry for being late, Thranduil," you started, wrapping your arms around yourself for support. "You probably want a proper apology that can explain all this, but as inexcusable as it is, I overslept. The power went out at my place last night, and my phone couldn't charge, so my alarm didn't ring. I'm really really sorry, and I want to make it up."

You took a deep breath. Tears were swelling in the corners of your eyes, threatening to break out every second, and you struggled to blink them away; your apology was pathetic enough without tears.

Thranduil slowly got up, gently placing the confused-looking Tauriel on the small coffee table and took a few steps towards you, causing your concentration to waver for a moment.

Why wasn't he wearing a suit like usual? Normally, he was already dressed for work every morning. Today, however, he wore black straight-cut trousers and a dark blue knit sweater that was covered in gray couch pillow lint.

He spoke your name softly, much too soft for the conversation that would follow.

Now he would fire you; now you could say goodbye to everyone, and from tomorrow on, you would only be able to admire this beautiful face in newspapers.

"I'll make it up to you, but please don't fire me!"

With an expression of pure horror, Thranduil bridged the meters between you and pulled you into a surprising hug, stifling any sob. His hand lovingly patted your back, stroking in circular motions over your shoulder blades.

"Ada, what's wrong?"

"Legolas, Tauriel," he turned his head, one hand cupping your neck, and spoke in a soft voice, "could you please to go your rooms? Give us a minute, alright?"

Immediately, you wanted to pull away; he was your boss, and he shouldn't send his children away just because you were upset about your own mistakes.

Thranduil didn't let go though; he continued to hold you tightly in his strong arms as if the boundary between your roles in this relationship didn't exist.

"What nonsense led you to think I would fire you?" Thranduil asked after a while.

Slowly lowering his arms, he silently allowed your heart a moment to mourn the warmth of his body, a last moment before he stepped back, and you feared you might never be so close to him again.

Instead, he surprised you by reaching for your hand and leading you over to the couch, stepping around the thrown-around cushions on the carpet.

Waiting for you to sit, he joined you, surprisingly close.

"I did write to you that I have a day off today and would love to spend it with all of you," he said, patting your knee and seeking your downward gaze.

Your already reddened cheeks flushed even more. Perhaps you should have checked your messages right after leaving the subway. Then you wouldn't have embarrassed yourself so much in front of Thranduil, a man whose respect meant more to you than anything else, and especially you wouldn't have caused a scene in front of the children.

"Unfortunately, I didn't see that," you admitted, quietly and ashamed.

The man beside you nodded in understanding, his hand still on your leg.

With each touch, a tingling fire spread from that spot through your entire body, to your rapidly beating heart.

He had been doing this more often lately, guiding you with a hand on your back or brushing over your shoulders when helping you with your coat.

Sometimes, the occasional, slightly longer-than-necessary handshake left your knees weak, and even now, his touch burned through the fabric of your pants, as if a sitcom-worthy handprint might be etched there.

"It happens to the best of us," him excluded of this, the man was never late, never forgot, and worst of all, never broke down crying "-please don't fret over this any longer. Everything is alright."

You nodded, sniffling when he stretched to the coffee table and offered you a tissue, handed over with one of his infuriating smiles.

"Thanks," you dabbed the tissue against your cheeks, trying to wipe away the blush and surely ugly puffiness as well as the tears, "I'm still sorry for-" you pointed to your face, "-all this. This probably wasn't how you wanted your day off to start"

Thranduil tilted his head slightly, long blond hair cascading over his shoulder, which he now nudged against yours. "Hey, we have a rule in this house, y'know? No crying unless it's during a movie, book, or when I cooked"

The laugh you let out sounded more like a snort, which is embarrassing in itself though Thranduil only nudged you again in good humor, "So, if you don't want me to punish you for this utterly inexcusable rulebreaking, then you should quickly smile again"

"Oh no!" you exclaimed, wiping away some more tears, before biting down a smile, "I could not handle watching Frozen 2 again this week"

The Oropherion household was most prestigious with Thranduil representing the largest book publishing company in the country, and his two exemplary children, so of course, punishment for any rulebreaking of this kind was a movie night- movie chosen by the youngest (if she wasn't the one breaking the rules).

"Again?" Thranduil raised his eyebrows, then patted your leg condescendingly, "Have I ever told you how strong you are, my dear?"

Ignoring the stutter your heart makes at the nickname and carefully filing the moment away for later, you shook your head, "You have no idea. I had barely picked them up from school yesterday when Tauriel snitched on Legolas for tripping another boy- he did it as an act of self-defense.. well he defended Aragorn but we do not know that if anyone official calls, and then for that Legolas tripped her and so I spend the evening yet again in the company of Olaf and Anna."

As you recount the eventful first day of the week, you could hear and feel Thranduil snicker, his whole body shaking where it pressed against yours- legs, thighs, shoulders.

"Wow, just.. oh my," Thranduil exhaled, and there laid a fondness in his blue eyes, a softness in the corner of his mouth, that washed away the stern businessman, leaving no room for anyone else but a young father, who soaked up every moment of his kid's lives, scared they were growing up too fast.

"Anyway, I shouldn't just sit around and ramble," you crumpled up the tissue in one hand, using the other to brush away some hair.

Conjuring your best smile, the one reserved for him and only him, you linger for one second on the warmth of his body this close to you, before squaring your shoulders. "Soo, thanks for not firing me, I appreciate it and swear that I'll check my phone in the morning to not cause you this much trouble again"

Thranduil's eyebrows twitched, barely noticeable to anyone who wasn't staring at him constantly. "I wouldn't have fired you," he said, honest and completely serious; you shrink together, just like the paper tissue. He continues, voice grave and his eyes focused on you, "Not because of something like that, not because of a little thing you are not responsible for. And even if you were, I think we're long past the point where I'd want to fire you, no matter what"

You stare at him, mouth slightly agape, and you want to ask him what he meant by that or if he meant to say it like he did, but no words come out.

Thranduil takes your speechlessness in, his lashes fluttering softly as he closes his eyes, tipping his head to the side. Another barely noticeable change in his demeanor, this time the hint of a smile, that quickly disappears again.

A call from Tauriel shattered the atmosphere between you, and you pulled yourself together.

"Let's just let it go," Thranduil said, this time his mouth curved into a full smirk.

You glare at him, forcing yourself to stand up. "I hate you"

You didn't, but there was no need to add that since the smile and blush on your face gave that away as much as any words would.

Still smirking at you, Thranduil yelled "Yes, Tauriel, you can come back in" and as soon as he finished the two children you loved so dearly rushed into the living room.

While Legolas immediately spilled over the back of the couch like liquid and rolled face first into the small space between his father and the couch, Tauriel nearly toppled over her own feet racing toward you.

She collided with your legs without slowing down.

Unlike Legolas, who was a spitting image of his father with his bright blue eyes and blond hair, Tauriel had inherited her red hair and freckles from her mother, who was only mentioned by Thranduil, if at all, with a dismissive snort, as if it were part of her name.

However, he had every right to do so.

After all, he did rush into the hospital on Christmas-Eve nine years ago, thinking that from then on, Christmas would have the table decked for four, not two, and he left with two children barely a day old and already burdened with a mother who had lost all interest in them.

She had left the hospital when Thranduil had been asleep, his children close to his chest as he grew from boy to single father in one night.

"What are we going to do today?" Tauriel asked, her hands grabbing the coat you still hadn't shed.

"Well, we could go to the park?" you offered and brushed some of her hair out of her face, "Or do you want to let your Ada decide?"

She pulled a face, twisting her lips in an adorable pout. "Noo, then he will go to a museum and they are soo boooring"

Thranduil cleared his throat, looking thoroughly outraged- as well as one could with his other child climbing over his back and tugging his hair. "Tauriel, I thought you loved our trip to the History Museum!"

There was a pause where Tauriel contemplated what to say, before pulling her lips into a smile and swiping her hand at the air: "Oh, yes, Ada, I really love going to the History Museum with you."

Then, turning to you and rolling her eyes in a matter that was surely an imitation of all the adult chit-chat she had caught and not even close to the behavior of a nine-year-old, she faux-whispered: "Don't fall for my tricks, I just don't want to see him sad"

You weren't even close to fast enough to cover the laugh that bubbled out of your throat with a cough.

"She just goes there because there is a boy in our class that she wants to impress," Legolas piped up, his feet dangling over Thranduil's shoulders while his blonde hair was sticking to his father's back.

"Not true!" Tauriel snapped back.

"SO true, she looooves-"

"Do not!"

"Yes, you do!"

"NO, I do not!"

"You-"

"HEY!" you cut into the back and forth that surely would have ended in punches or more tears, "If anyone says anything there will be no trip to the park, the museum or to wherever you want to go today!"

You fixated the twins with a warning stare that left no room for discussion and it even seemed to shut up Thranduil, who had opened his mouth and now, slowly and looking at you, closed it again.

"Thank you," you crossed your arms in front of your chest, "Now, I don't see beaks or feathers on the both of you so I'll ask you to refrain from squawking and cackling, and Legolas if you want to tease your sister about a boy, should I tell her about-"

"NO!" the boy screamed and immediately, realizing his mistake of speaking out of turn, clapped both hands in front of his mouth, leaving his blue eyes to plead.

Not that you would have said anything; whether it was Aragorn or that boy, Kili, you would never dare to spill the secrets that they whispered to you when you tugged them in.

You nodded once.

It was enough for the boy to relax, slipping onto the couch bare of cushions, and curling his arms around his father's neck.

It was an endearing, yet very exhausting trait of the boy to be unable to stop moving, always climbing things, restlessly skipping around when he was supposed to do his homework.

"Go and put on your boots, coats, and yes- Legolas, even your scarf and hat, and no- Tauriel, you did not forget them in school, I picked them up yesterday and put them into your bag"

There was not much grumbling, well, Tauriel muttered something close to a curse under her breath but at your sharp gaze, she opened her mouth in such a wide smile, baring two rows of teeth, that it looked strained, and Legolas made his protest clear in changing in and out of at least five sweaters before settling on one the same ink-blue as his fathers.

Said father continued to stifle his laughter while you stood in the hallway, waiting until the coat rack was nearly empty and the children had their coats zipped up, their boots tied, their necks covered in scarfs and two pairs of hands had gloves dangling from them.

Said father also came up behind you, when the twins were busy forming plans on what this day would come to, maybe an adventure in the park, or a walk through the aquarium, and you felt his hands brush over your shoulders, as he leaned to whisper in your ear and cause shivers to prickle down your spine despite the warm clothes:

"What a shame that I miss you this assertive most of the time, it looks good on you"

He must have heard the gulp of your throat, must have felt the buckling of your knees, but alas, he said nothing more and the moment passed as quickly as it had come.

It was what he was good at, swiping you off your feet with comments like this and touches like that, leaving you dazed and wondering if you had imagined it all or if that twinkle in his eyes truly was as flirtatious as you thought it to be.

"Okay so, shall we go?"

You caught Thranduil's smirk as he grabbed his coat as well.

His hands were quick to fasten the shiny buttons, working their way up from the bottom in seconds, and as he pulled his long hair out to toss it over his shoulders, the elegant length of his fair neck flashed into view.

Frozen in place, your gaze lingered on the curve of his cheekbones, the pointed ears, and quickly you looked away before he turned his attention from Legolas back to you and might have caught you staring.

It was truly unfair how beautiful he was, wearing the fitted coat, snug at his small waist and highlighting the broad of his shoulders, the midnight blue color being the perfect color for his blonde hair to look like starlight and sunshine all at once.

He drew looks onto him wherever he went and not because of his wealth or business– those were things New Yorkers didn't care about if he passed them on the streets.

He was simply breathtaking, and that he had a daughter skipping over puddles reflecting the clear blue sky and a son babbling while he listened and laughed and answered was more of a magnet than he maybe realized.

In fact, he never seemed to notice the heads turning, the heart eyes that mothers and young women watched him with, and the appreciating nods of handsome men. The ogling and giggling, the sighs and gasps, murmurs and whispers.

Not from strangers but certainly he had the talent to catch the slighted exhale of breath from you whenever you lost yourself in his elegant figure, watching and dreaming as he played with his children or washed the dishes, his back turned to you to examine his muscles straining against the stretch of his shirt.

He teased you for it, lips curving into smiles, eyebrows raising in a wiggle, arms lifting to reveal a sliver of toned stomach.

Even now, as you crossed the street to enter Central Park, the constant pull of Legolas on your right arm left you to slightly tumble into Thranduil, shoulders knocking against shoulder and you glanced up at him to apologize only to find a smirk already tugging on the left corner of his mouth.

The air is still quite chilly, leaving you to lift your nose in the direction of the February sun, albeit a long way from warming you up, it was enough to ease on the frost nipping at your skin.

The children were tugging you into the direction of their favorite playground, hats bouncing at the excited steps that were nearly too fast to hold them back, boots stomping as they made a game of pulling you.

Their happiness was brighter than any sommer light, the teasing from the apartment long forgotten as the roads curved and dew-kissed gras made way for sand and rubber flooring.

They stormed off as soon as Thranduil and you let go of them, scrambling away to conquer the climbing towers and slides and most assuredly end up befriending some if not all of the other kids that are playing under the watchful eyes of parents sitting on the many benches scattered around the place.

Thranduil and you settled onto a weathered bench, positioned directly beneath a skeletal tree that, in a matter of weeks, would burst into bloom, but for now, stood adorned only with bare branches reaching towards the heavens.

Thranduil folded his hands in his lap, starting by delicately pinching at the fingertips of one glove.

With graceful precision, he slipped his slender hand out, exposing his milky skin to the chill, repeating the process with agonizing slowness on the other hand.

The ritual held your undivided attention, captivating you as you watched those slender hands gradually unfasten the first button of his coat.

As if that weren't bad enough, he proceeded to loosen the red scarf wrapped around his neck, a vibrant contrast against the wintry backdrop.

Your mouth felt almost devoid of moisture as you struggled to comprehend.

Huddled deeper into the folds of your own coat, you shot him a reproachful glance. "I don't get how you aren't cold," you muttered, your words punctuated by a shiver.

He made a show of popping another button of his coat. "Tze, how could anyone be cold in this weather?" Thranduil angled his face toward the sun, "I dare say that this is the perfect weather for a long walk"

You scoffed, "Oh, here we go again. I can't wait for you to open up the window later and tell me that the winds are just a slight breeze. It's unfair, you know? Some of us freeze just by looking at you carelessly throwing that scarf away"

Thranduils squinted his eyes, seemingly contemplating whatever was going on his beautiful head and before you could say anything else he had raised his arms and wrapped the scarf around the smaller one you already wore.

Your mouth fell open in surprise, the blood rushing into your cheeks as he busied himself tugging here and there and then had the gall to pull so that you had your mouth full of scarf.

It not only smelled like his perfume but tasted like it as well.

"There, now you are best equipped for this blizzard-like cold!" he chuckled and when you tried to pull the scarf away, he held one of the ends so that it slipped to cover your ears. "Oops, my fault-"

"Thranduil!" was what you wanted to say though the fabric made it sound more like "Franfuil" which made him only laugh louder. His eyes crinkled at the corners, the amusement showing itself in their baby blues.

Thinking that he maybe just did it for a joke, you wanted to free yourself from it.

His cold hands coming to rest upon yours with his long slender fingers covering yours, halted the movement.

"I can't wear your scarf," you said meekly and made another attempt though with not much force.

You wanted to wear his scarf, wanted to sit on this bench with all the other parents passing you and seeing his claim, his scarf wrapped around your neck, but this was another dream, not something that really happened.

He was just joking, wasn't he?

"Tze," Thranduil swatted at the air and clicked his tongue. "Why not? You said it yourself, you are freezing because of me. Let me offer you some warmth and don't tell me this scarf isn't wondrous. The wool is from irish sheeps-"

He continued talking, and you sunk back into the bench, nose buried into the fabric that carried his scent.

The scarf did help, although it wasn't just because of the added expensive layer but because of the hands that had wrapped it as well.

"and thus this scarf is the best way to keep your poor freezing body self. Imagine what the kids would say if they came back and you sat here like an iceberg. We would have to bring hammers to break you out of it," he finished with a satisfied nod to himself and folded on leg over the other, clasping his hands on top of the raised knee. "Now, no more complaining, do we understand each other?"

You nodded obediently.

Thranduil took it in, making sure that you didn't talked back to him, then he turned toward the playground.

You followed his gaze to Legolas and Tauriel hanging on the monkey bars and swinging back and forth.

"Mhm," he hummed and a smirk pulled on his lips, "I really want to say that the cold never bothered me anyway"

At your pained groan, he just laughed joyfully.

Inside your chest, your heart stuttered against your ribcage.

"I can say that this is far better than sitting in the office," Thranduil mused after a while, eyes wandering from his children to you.

He really did look much happier, the cold giving him a healthy blush that reached all the way down his slender throat.

Not that you stared at his Adam's apple and the soft rosé of his skin– your eyes were just drawn to the red lint his scarf had left on his collar.

You tried to lift an eyebrow like he always did but failed miserably. "What? And here I figured that playing all day was only half as much fun as making sure my suit didn't get wrinkled from all the sitting around."

Thranduil scoffed, not in anger but in humor. "I will let you know that I'm not bound to the desk and will walk to get some coffee now and again"

"Oh how adventurous," you teased, nudging your elbow into his side, "Do tell, whatever do they do with this wild man of a boss?"

He laughed at that, and you had to bury your teeth in your lip to stop yourself from smiling like a fool.

"Sometimes they take away my pen and force me to listen to whatever offer is going on instead of letting me play tic-tac-toe"

"That's so unfair," you shook your head, the smile now breaking out despite the best effort to retain it, "Maybe I should talk to them because last time I saw your notes you lost every time. Like you are so bad! They should let you practice more"

"You cheeky-" Thranduil stopped himself, the chortling laughter made it impossible to understand anything he would have said anyway.

After a while the laughter subsided, leaving a comfortable silence that you sunk into, letting the whole moment wash over you.

There was laughter all around you, children screaming and yelling, Tauriel and Legolas swinging on the monkey bars as the cold colored their faces nearly as red as the girl's hair.

Somewhere in the distance, the music of the carousel waved over, the melody familiar by now and you dared to tilt your head just enough to the side, to make it look like your gaze was trailing over to the wooden tent instead of trailing the curve of Thranduil's nose, the long lashes resting on his cheek as he bathes in the sun.

As if he felt your eyes on him, he hummed. "Maybe I should cut my hours short," Thranduil's voice was low, but there was a firmness behind the words, a determination that told you he had thought about this longer than his statement let on.

Your heart jumped in your chest.

Grateful that his eyes were still closed so that he couldn't see the shock that played your features, you inhaled deeply, needing the sting of the air in your lungs.

"Oh," you whispered, wanting to follow up with something encouraging but the words just wouldn't come to you.

"Oh," you simply repeated.

The chill of winter settled deep into your bones and you hunched your shoulders, the meaning of his words cutting sharp into the string of affection that you thought connected the two of you.

If he worked less than that meant he wouldn't come home late in the evening, maybe even early enough to pick up his children from school, giving him time to cook for them, go to the playground, and accompany them to Legolas archery lessons and Tauriels dance classes.

If he had all the time do to this, then it would be more than reasonable to let you go.

"Mhm–" Thranduil hummed again, eyes still shut. "The firm doesn't need my input, they can do their best without me hovering around as if I was not just there to listen in to negotiations. This is what I should have done ages ago, direct my attention to the kids instead of book deals that only need my signature."

You nodded, ignoring that he couldn't see it.

"We should get away, the kids haven't had a vacation in forever. I own a house near Greenwood, and the last time I was there there had been a village close enough for the children to make some friends. It would be good for them, don't you think?"

"Yeah– sure," you swallowed hard, trying to force down the stone lodged in your throat.

There, on the tip of your tongue, was a plea, the urge to beg him not to fire you but you would rather let him continue to talk than embarrass yourself again.

"There was a house close by, a family with another single dad and his three kids. If I remember correctly the youngest had been Tauriel and Legolas' age, they could show them around, and Legolas can finally have that damn treehouse he always asks for," Thranduil chuckled and stretched out his legs, the tips of his shoes pointing to the sky, "He asks for one every birthday and I think if he asks me one more time I will find a way to build him that treehouse, even if that means buying a damn tree here in Central Park."

You let out a humorless laugh, more an exhale of air than anything else.

The images Thranduil painted would have been lovely if not for the pain growing inside your chest at every word.

"And we could take a walk through the woods, just you and me."

"What?"

Thranduil's eyes snapped open, blue eyes piercing you like the brightness of the sun over your heads.

For the first time, you saw confusion in them, unsureness, and doubt, and you must have looked just as baffled.

"A walk, to talk, you know? Without the kids sleeping in the other room, without their nosy ears hearing things they shouldn't?" His eyes widened, suddenly he seemed very much uncomfortable with how slouched he sat for he straightened up, "Oh my," he lifted a hand to run it through his hair, tousling it even more, "Oh no, have I overstepped?"

Your gaze remained fixed on him. "You want me to accompany you on this vacation to the woods to 'talk'? Damn, Thranduil, I thought you were on the verge of letting me go!"

"Let you go?!" His cheeks flushed crimson within seconds, a vivid contrast against his fair complexion.

There was an unfamiliarity to the flush, something so new and alien about it that, despite the gravity of the situation, you found yourself momentarily speechless, captivated more by the sight than the words spoken.

"I thought that we could come to an agreement about the arrangements of your employment status"

"My status?"

Nothing that was said made sense, for either one of you, and the comfort grew into frustration that made it impossible to sit still.

"Yes! Were we not on the same page?" Thranduil's voice got louder and you both flinched as a mother with her stroller walked past and threw you an annoyed look. Thranduil leaned closer, dropping into something close to a whisper: "I wanted to ask you out for like a month now, but it felt awkward since it would have required giving you the evening off or compensating you. Neither option seemed like the ideal foundation for a date, in my opinion," he pressed out between his teeth, tipping his head to the side.

"A date?" you felt stupid for parroting his words- again, but how could you not? This conversation had dragged out for far too long to be your imagination, yet you wouldn't believe that this was happening.

"Yes," he was laughing now, kind of desperate if you were honest.

The touch of his knees against yours became a hand wrapping around your wrist, pulling your hand toward him so that he could lay it onto his open palm.

There were sparkles in your stomach, exploding like fireworks at the soft touch of his skin, warmed from the gloves he had worn on the walk.

"I am mad about you, haven't you realized? Have you any idea how I have to hold myself back whenever I come home and see you on the couch with my children, reading stories or singing movies, dancing around the living room in costumes?"

(You blushed deeply at the memory of that evening, Tauriel had convinced you that her fairy wings would fit you better than her, the pink glitter sticking to your clothes as you twirled around the room just when the elevator doors opened and Thranduil stood in the doorway; his tired and exhausted eyes lightening up at the sight of his daughter- or so you thought)

He continued, staring at your hands as he drew circles with the tip of his fingers. "Leaving for work is only easy because you are there to send me off, and working is only durable because I know that when the doors to the apartment open you will be there. It gets harder though, every time I see you cuddling with Legolas or drawing with Tauriel I have to refrain myself-" he stopped to look up, a coy smile on his lips that were suddenly much harder to ignore in their closeness and allure.

"Else, I'd find myself sinking to my knees before you on the couch, bestowing kisses for 'Hello', 'Goodbye', or simply surrendering to the emotions that have stirred within me since the day you entered my life."

"Well, I can tell you no other boss has greeted me like that," you murmured quietly, uncertain of how else to react.

His fingers continued their subtle dance, now entwined with yours. They melded together seamlessly, like a perfect puzzle, as if their natural state had always been intertwined.

Thranduil chuckled softly, his index finger tapping against his knuckle. "One of the reasons I never acted upon it," he admitted, "was the fear of you dialing the Department of Labor for harassment."

"A kiss wouldn't lead to that," you bit down on your lip again, "Fainting on my side, yes, absolutely, and I have never seen a fainted person make a phone call. And what would I say? Hello, my gorgeous boss, who I have a crush on kissed me? Oh, sad old me. could you maybe find a way to compensate me for something I have dreamed about?"

The moment you said what you said, the words slipped out your mouth faster than you could hold them back and loud enough that you could have pretended that you had mumbled something else.

The shock of Thranduil's admission had opened the pandora box of feelings that you had shoved under terms like 'work ethic' and 'inappropriate salivating over your superior' as if that would make it any easier.

"So we are on the same page," Thranduil smiled, his chest heaved in a relief exhale of air. "I'm glad.. oh, so glad. I would have perished if I had been wrong and all those times I asked you to eat with me you thought 'Great, now I have to spend time with him as well.' That would have been... well, rather disheartening."

You choked on another laugh, "No, no, I never thought something even close to that. Most of the time, I was occupied trying not to scream in excitement while figuring out how I could get rid of the glitter or marker on my arms."

He laughed, but his eyes were honest and he held your hand a little bit tighter, "You must know that you are beautiful in every way, especially covered in feathers and gemstones, couch lint, and flour." His head dropped then, his eyes falling to your lips as he took in your smile and the way you struggled to find words.

"I wish I could kiss you right now," he said instead and the regret was audible in his low voice, "But we should figure everything out before I do."

You understood his point, it would be irresponsible to make out - which a kiss would definitely lead to, after all, you were bursting at the seams just thinking about how his lips would taste.

There were the kids, for once, you couldn't know how they would react at seeing the nanny kiss their father without being spoken to first and then, there was the whole thing of him being your boss.

Instead of kissing him, you just nodded. "Of course. Mister Oropherion, I hereby tell you that I plan to resign. It was lovely working for you but this is not where I see myself in a few years."

His face had morphed into the professional that you had met all those months ago in that little restaurant, older yet not by much, less exhausted and happiness in those blue eyes of his that you would spend hours staring into.

Your last name still sounded unfamiliar on his tongue, you had instantly offered your first name for him to use- an order he gladly followed, the only exception being the nicknames you doted on.

"I'll make sure to have the papers ready in the afternoon," Thranduil said in a matter of business, "And there will be a bottle of wine, perhaps? To celebrate?"

You glanced around, making sure that no one was watching before lifting your hands and breathing a soft kiss onto his fingers, relishing the first taste of him.

"I would very much like that"

"Ada!" came the sudden yell of Legolas, and in the blink of an eye the boy ran toward you, coming out of nowhere and the rest of the sentence, whatever Thranduil had wanted to say, never crossed his lips that now spread into a wide smile at the sight of his son.

"Ada, you have to push us on the swings!"

Legolas jumped in front of you, fisting his gloves into your coat and pulling your attention onto him, cheeks all flushed red and blonde hair standing to all sides- he seemed to have lost his hat.

"You can push me and Ada can push Tauriel, and then can we go eat ice cream? There was a boy that said that his mom would buy him ice cream and let him ride the carousel, and–"

Thranduil laughed and raised a hand to smooth down the flyaway strands of hair. "Alright, alright, Las. Lead the way"

The boy immediately turned, tugging you with him at the seam of your coat into the direction of the pair of swings where his sister already waited, her hat lost in the sand as well.

That would be a problem for later, for now, you just followed Legolas and turned your head to see Thranduil catching up to you.

His hand brushed yours as he passed you, his legs much longer than yours and his coat free from the impatient drag of a child.

"Race you!"

There was more laughter echoing over the playground as you and Legolas chased after his father, their blonde hair flying in the wind, sand slipping into your boots, and the red scarf around your neck fluttering.

Later, when the children were asleep in their bed, tugged under their blankets, and exhausted from the day, Thranduil would bring out your contract, ready for your signature of resignation.

He would wait until you sign next to him, the pen just barely lifted from the paper before his lips would capture yours in a soft kiss; his hands resting on your waist as you fall on top of him on the couch.

There would be wine and kisses just as sweet, quiet laughter as to not wake the children, hushed giggles when you would follow him to his bedroom, his hand in yours.

Right now though, you swept up Legolas into your arms and dashed through the sand.

#thranduil x reader #lotr x reader #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit x reader #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil x you #lord of the rings fanfiction #lord of the rings x reader #lotr fanfiction #king thranduil #thranduil

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spookyserenades · 2 years ago

Text

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

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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!

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts ot7 x reader #hybrid au #bts ot7 x y/n #bts hybrid au #bts fic #bts au #bts hybrid x reader #bts hybrid fanfic #namjoon fanfic #seokjin fanfic #yoongi fanfic #hoseok fanfic #jimin fanfic #taehyung fanfic #jungkook fanfic

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greensun · 1 year ago

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THE BIG QSMPSTUCK LOREDUMP AKA: I finally get to do all the lorebabble I wanted to do.

EDIT (11/1/2023): THIS VERSION IS NOW OUT OF DATE AND DOES NOT INCLUDE THE PEOPLE IN THE ICE CUBES. I AM CURRENTLY REWORKING PARTS OF THIS BUT MOST SHOULD STAY THE SAME FOR THE NEW POSTS SANS BAGHERA, KAMETO, AND DANTDM'S CLASSPECTS! LOOK FORWARD TO UPDATED POSTS IN THE FUTURE.

SOME NOTES: 1. I have a very specific version of qsmpstuck going on with my art I make that I made with a group of friends (thanks Slimercord!) 2. There are other people who made other classpects and takes on QSMP characters that are more character based, mine is not that case, it looks at how QSMP as a whole would work as a full sburb session, and balancing how many people would be on each aspect or class to carry that motif of Homestuck's balancing/equal duality theme. This means I am looking at and using Classpects as a narrative & plot device, not necessarily a personality test like how someone would classpect a real person (This is how the Extended Zodiac works, and why I choose to ignore it for character classpecting. It works great for classpecting real life people though, so by all means you can use the EZ for you and your friends!). 3. AND WITH THAT! It means two people per aspect and and class, with the exception of space and time having three people, and knights and heirs having three people. 4. FAIR WARNING: IF YOU HAVE NEVER READ HOMESTUCK, THERE IS LOTS OF DEATH IN IT, WITH LOTS OF RESURRECTIONS. I WILL BE DISCUSSING DEATH IN A VERY JOKING MANNER HERE! 5. For posterity in case things change in the future: This post was made August 2nd 2023, after the French were added, and right before the Election arc finished. I'm sure if I came back to this after QSMP is over my classpecting would be different. (Updated August 20, 2023)

I'll add this again at the bottom but if you want more of my notes and thought processes or just more qsmpstuck in general here's the link to my tag for all qsmpstuck on this blog, and here's the link to all qsmpstuck on my regular mcyt blog. (my regular blog includes other people's qsmpstuck takes & reblogs however! But every classpect analysis I reblogged in there w/ an anonymous ask sent to the OP was me on anon lol)

HERE WE GO! The big ol google doc sheet I had to make for this. Every note on that godtier order list is how we decided the character would godtier, and we still aren't even technically done! I have so much information built up for this AU I am not sure I could include all of it in this post.

CLASSPECTS

Anyway, in terms of classpects, the way we went about deciding was 1. Finding symbolic meanings we felt fit the characters best 2. If the classpect was funny and had a fun double entendre to the character 3. If we really struggled, we went and picked up Dahni Witch of Light's classpect analyses and found which class fit a character best within an aspect we had a vague idea of. I find Dahni's analyses to be the best at classpecting non-homestuck characters with, because they give enough leeway in interpretation and are somewhat broad, while still applying as a fictional character's story arc, rather than solely a personality test. We also basically ignored most classpect's assigned "role" concept thingy, they were too nebulous in meaning to help much, with the only ones we kept being Sylphs are the passive creation class with Maids as the active creation class, and then Bards are passive destruction, Princes are active destruction.

AND NOW BACK TO THE CUBES YOU CARE ABOUT: As stated before, we did lay it out so we (mostly) only had two per aspect and class, to get that true fan session balancing spirit. Space/time and knight/heir are the only ones with three members. Here's how the outfits look!

My favorites here & their reasonings are: - Etoiles: Sylph of Blood - We all agreed him getting a classpect that is at least somewhat silly would be fitting, but all immediately came to the conclusion that he would hands down be a blood player. From his love of fighting, and the way he goes about befriending everyone he meets to help them, he's just so blood player. To balance out our initial silly classpecting idea, we made him a Sylph! It fits, like, really well! He creates friendship, he helps people, like. What more could you want from a classpect for him. - Mariana: Maid of Doom - I sent these two asks to this other person about this and liked their reasonings lol. - Spreen: Prince of Breath - Look I'm a Spreengirl I think he would play a great active destruction class and he takes away other's freedom (in minecraft). He kills people. He's just so Prince to me. It's really funny. - BBH: Knight of Life - Do you know how funny it is to take a guy who's whole thing is that he's like entirely black and red themed and put him in the burlap sack outfit. Also Knight & Space player frog breeding combo. He's working with Foolish on those frogs. - Foolish: Page of Space - This guy is the ultimate builder of all time ever. He was hands down the easiest to look at and go Oh he is THE space player here. - Fit: Prince of Space - Y'know 2b2t and hacked clients and griefing people? Prince of Space. Plus since he's a space player, soooo - Philza: Knight of Rage - Another great Space & Knight combo. This guy is such a hater on QSMP (positive) he doubts easily distrusts whenever necessary. Such a rage player. - Missa: Bard of Time - Missa is really failgirl I know quite a few people haven't like... watched much of his MC stuff. However you should check out when he had to be placed in a box to fish by himself so he wouldn't die a third time in Minecraft Extremo. He's a perfect Bard, and then he does music. Great set up for a Time player. Wouldn't want it any other way. - Antoine: Seer of Void - truly. Truly. A guy I looked at for two minutes and immediately knew what classpect he needed. That scene where he just like lightly questioned Cellbit after he escaped the federation and it made Cellbit so nervous he started just saying things that made him look way more nervous than necessary? Core Antoine moment for me. The fact he has a basement filled with so much writing on every candidate? The fact he hides his true face so much? We don't even know what's going on there? Void Player. Seer. So fitting it's beautiful to me. - Felps: Maid of Breath - Look, breath is THE aspect of freedom and doing what you want at your own pace. I think I would be committing a cardinal sin if I DIDN'T make Felps a breath player. - Tazercraft: Witch of Doom & Page of Time - They get to do a fucked up glitch timeloop. With these two classpects they can literally do whatever they want forever. Witch of Doom is a classpect that you give to a character if you know they can rip everything to shreds, have fun doing it, but wouldn't (usually) use it to actively hurt people out of true malice (for no reason) (a witch can DEFINITELY respond negatively if push comes to shove). Page of Time is so funny as a classpect also. Just like... Look up what the Page godtier outfit looks like. You'll see what I mean... And why Pac is a page. - Rubius: Waste of Breath - This classpect sounds really mean, sorry. I promise I like Rubius. He's supposed to be a stand in for what the Hussie author insert was in Homestuck, opposing Doc Scratch and fighting him. Hussie was a Waste of Space, I wanted to keep the pun with waste here. Breath worked the best. The federation has a Lord of Blood ability to counter him. Neither of these two count for the main classpect total.

One day I might post a copy of the google sheet and link it for more in-depth reasonings for every character, but like... almost everyone had reasonings like this where we spent waaay too long analyzing everyone LMAO. This is getting long as is, so I'll cut off classpecting here.

DREAMING MOONS

I am about to say something that will make people either really mad or really happy. There is no canon true definition of what assigns you a dreaming moon in Homestuck's text. The only thing we can glean from canon about which moon you get is that Prospit humans make their bed in the morning, and Derse humans don't. Needless to say, this doesn't help when you want to individually give each person a dreaming moon, but it IS great news for me: it makes assigning dreaming moons based on dividing the cast in half really, really easy. That is how it worked for the troll session, it was cut in half with teams, and then assigned based on red team vs blue team. So that is what I did here. All of the English speakers were given Prospit, and all of the Hispanic side were given Derse. This has lore relevance. We'll get back to it in a moment.

Also for note, the Federation is Prospit, with Dersite carapacians being a more nebulous identity against the Federation. Hispanic side was given Derse because they just seem more like Derse guys. Plus the whole Time on Derse/Space on Prospit theme going on in original HS canon is something I kinda wanted to go along with.

Quackity was given dual dreamer, with one of his dreamselves being ElQuackity, hence why he isn't listed. To balance this, we had to make another dual dreamer, and figured handing it to Kameto, who basically is permanently lost in the void, would be a good balance.

The French and Brazilian sessions were assigned using the "well this character would make sense here" method.

Server/Client Orders & Session Chains

If anyone needs a brief refresher, a client is the person you get into a sburb session, and a server is the person gets you into the session. Everyone is a client and a server to someone different. (tl;dr John was Rose's client, Rose was John's Server.) THAT BEING SAID! It means the loop for sessions close once you're all connected to both a client and a server. There are three separate sessions here, and one of them is a mobius double reacharound.

For clarity, the arrows mean: Client <- Server

The Original session, the mobius double reacharound, is the Spanish-English session. The order is

Quackity <- Mariana <- Spreen <- Roier <- Missa <- Vegetta <- Maxo <- Luzu (<- BBH)

BBH <- Foolish <- Slimecicle <- Jaiden <- DanTDM <- Fit <- Philza <- Wilbur (<- Quackity)

Because of the nature of a Mobius Double Reacharound, it means BBH and Quackity enter the session first, by technicality. The first person in a session is also the person who does the ectobiology. Unlike the troll session which only had Karkat as the ectobiologist, if Q!Quackity were the sole ectobiologist, no clones would be made and everyone would be stuck in a paradox, so I think it's funnier if BBH and Q had to work together on Ectobiology. I find their dynamic hilarious. Anyway, Luzu and Wilbur had to be the last in their respective chains, because no one else would be able to enter.

The next chain is the Brazilian closed Session, which is

Forever <- Mike <- Pac <- Felps <- Cellbit (<- Forever)

As previously mentioned, Pac e Mike (uou uou) have very good classpects to make up for the fact they have no space player. I'll come back to this.

The final chain is the French closed session. It goes

Baghera <- Antoine <- Etoiles <- AyPierre <- Kameto (<- Baghera)

They have balanced moons! They have a space player! They have a seer even! Both light and void! However, in missing a time player, they are forever doomed to fail the session.

LANDS OF PLANETS AND PARTNERS

Now I can finally explain actual lore. My apologies for making you read about 1000 words before this.

The Hispanic-English session is glitched. There is not a planet for each person. They have to share planets with a person from the opposite dreaming moon, generating lands that are a combination of two different aspects entirely. The planetary pairings for this prime session are the same pairings used for the initial egg pairings.

I really love designing lands for Sburb AUs it's my favorite thing in the world. The first one is the Land of Acid and Alcohol, Slimecicle (Heir of Heart) and Mariana's (Maid of Doom) land. Its oceans are acid and gasoline, and then covered in bottles that are a Russian roulette of alcoholic beverages, and then Molotov cocktails! The second is the Land of Steam and Dreams, Roier (Witch of Blood) and Jaiden's (Seer of Hope) land. It's filled with buildings built in an industrial revolution style architecture, playing on how people could believe in social mobility and "making it" in that time period, while also being reliant on heavy metallic machinery! I have a lot of fun conceptualizing lands.

The session's glitches don't stop at the planetary pairings on their own however, and it continues when Luzu attempts to enter the session. The session glitches from him being BBH's client, where it refuses to match pairings if they're connected directly, as the game would be unable to generate the gates above each player's house, it would simply loop back to connecting with the same Land. Luzu ends up being paired onto Quackity's land because of this, because the Game still detects him as having a dreamself on the opposite moon, even if he technically has both.

This causes BBH and Wilbur's land to glitch, and they end up paired together (as a bit of a nod back to how BBH and Wilbur were initially intended to be paired, before admins just made a new egg for Wilbur). We'll get back to this in a bit.

Some other lands from the AH session I enjoy are - The Land of Lush Forests and Iridescent Lakes, also known as LOLFAIL, BBH and Wilbur's land, which is a double Life player land, so the oceans are filled with gemstones and the land is covered in the most dense forest imaginable. It has the most difficult underlings spawn on it compared to any other land in the Anglo-Hispanic session. - The Land of Frogs and Typhoons, Spreen and Fit's land, which every space player is guaranteed frogs as part of their land, combined with Spreen being a breath player, it is a constant hurricane with frogs in it. They do not work on trying to calm the storm. They just start killing the frogs. There are so many frogs. The frogs are constantly flying at anyone who enters the land. Fit's slogan is FTF. Thank you to crow qsmp-yaoi for saying this idea because it truly brings me to tears every time I think about them being hit by those frogs flying at Mach 10. - The Land of Synapses and Static, Maxo and DanTDM's land. It's a darkened land, caused by Maxo's void, and then covered in a blanket of constant fog so thick a lighthouse can barely cut through it. The land also has mimicking noises to make familiar sounds to any player that steps on it, caused by Dan's Mind. It is an overbearingly lonely land. One where you understand what it truly feels like to be alone. One where you can lose someone as soon as you take your eyes off of them. Maxo last saw Dan on this land. No one else has seen him since.

I'm going to stop myself here, but I might come back and draw some more Land illustrations for these, haha.

Denizeggs

With the planetary partners, you might have seen this coming. Each planet in the combined session is missing a Denizen. Instead, what each player finds at the heart of the land is a little egg they need to help raise. They all find eggs at different points, however. Some people find their egg before they godtier, some find them afterward.

All of the eggs correspond to the land of their respective parents, however Luzu joins into the session too late to ever meet Tilin, second to last of the chain, she's already dead by that point.

And then the final major glitch in starting this session, when Wilbur joins as the final member of the chain, and enters, the only land open is BBH's land. Due to the nature of Sburb already knowing how things would end, it was always going to be this way, and there was no other option on who's planet he would join. The game glitches again, and detecting a second Prospit player, spawns in a new Denizen: Tallulah.

The eggs generally follow how they were in QSMP proper. Some of them die early. Some of them don't. Juanaflippa is as tragic as she is in canon. Two dads who are just bad at raising a child and it would have never worked out. Slime still kills Tilin by accident. Spreen doesn't care about Ramon, ditched him etc you know how it goes. The eggs are partially a planet quest too, so it's best if the eggs do live here.

Also in the glitches with this, there's a lack of consorts on any of the combined planets. There are a few, but not really as common as canon proper would have.

BRAZIL! 🇧🇷

The Brazil Session is a closed session between the five Brazilians. One of the requirements to complete Sburb is that you need a Space player (required to have forge in order to complete the final genesis frog & launch it into creating a new universe) and a Time player (required to keep the session in the proper timeline). The Brazilians have a time player (Pac), so they're halfway there!

There's some hiccups along the way. Mostly just Cellbit accidentally killing Felps and having to sprite him so Mike could make him a robot body to live in, but same old same old etc. Pac and Mike also kill each other by accident, but some other stuff happens there.

They still don't have the main aspect to actually continue the session, realize this, and also have a guy with one of the most conceptually powerful classpects to exist in terms of being able to glitch a game and save everyone. They manage to contact the primary session, reaching out to two grieving parents who are desperate to do anything to revive their daughter, one of whom is also a very powerful Doom player.

Brazilian Lands (brief edition)! - Land of Vultures and Culture, Forever's land, is a Hope land based around having Forever work to help save consorts who are hiding beneath intense structures and live in very isolate communities from each other. There's also massive megafauna in the skies that are always trying to kill them. - Land of Electronics and Experiments, Mike's land, is a pretty typical doom land, based around Chume labs, and has a constant lightning storm overhead - Land of Dancefloors and Dollhouses, Pac's land, is a combination of a land quest he has to get through, and a typical time land. All time lands have a clockwork or a music theme, I think him having a hot pink land that's massive amounts of dollhouse rooms attached to each other he has to make it through is just a fun concept. - Land of Cloud and Sky, Felps's world, is just a land with everything high in the sky. His whole quest is about him harnessing his ability to go with the flow to connect his consorts together. This is hard when he's sprited himself after dying upon entering due to Cellbit fucking up and accidentally killing him, and living in a robot body built by Mike. Aradia style. - Land of Searchlight and Bone, Cellbit's world, is a giant panopticon style prison. With so many bones, both decorating the prison, and filling the prison cells. His final moment is when he gets to the office of the panopticon, and it is his quest bed. He has a whole ordeal over it.

RICARLYSON! So these guys have regular consorts and Denizens, Richarlyson spawns in the heart of Skaia, and gives the quest for the other five guys to raise him.

Pac (Page of Time) has the ability to manipulate time as he wants once he realizes his abilities. Mike (Witch of Doom) can rip a hole in the universe so big it saves all of the players and sets them smack in the middle of another session, especially a previously contacted session with the connection being a Maid of Doom. With a time player land as well, they get a scratch construct on the Land of Dancefloors and Dollhouses, setting up their ability to scratch their session and set loose a whole new universe where theirs once stood.

French

The French session has probably the most normal planets of everything going on here, what really starts their journey going awry is that they have no time player.

Antoine, being a Seer of Void, can see something is going wrong. He makes contact with people outside of their session in an attempt to restore things to balance. He goes off into the veil and contacts the horrorterrors, and sets up a connection between two Doom players who seem they both desperately need it.

While he's doing that, the rest of the French proceed to have the most normal Sburb session out of anyone. Etoiles is having a great time on his planet. Aypierre gets a genesis tadpole. Kameto has two backup lives.

French Planets (Brief Edition) - Land of Apples and Airplanes, Baghera's land! It's probably the nicest land of anyone's. There are many jokes about how she doesn't get why everyone keeps complaining about their lands being horrible until she reaches theirs. - Land of Sham and Soil, Antoine's land, it's a dark land with tall dirt towers that make it impossible to see where you step. You'd need to be someone who could find where you're going in the pitch dark to even survive here. - Land of Bonds and Breakouts, Etoiles's land, is a land of a giant maze dungeon labyrinth. It's a nightmare for everyone but him. He loves it. - Land of Bogs and Frogs, AyPierre's land, is a land with frogs in a very thick swamp. I'll be honest i Just need to cook on this one some more. - Land of Hidden Leaves and War, Kameto's land, is a Naruto joke.

POMME! Is like Richas she's in the middle of Skaia. An easter egg if you will.

The French session is brought into the primary session when Antoine manages to contact with everyone else fully, rather than quietly watch from the outside. Etoiles and Baghera lose their original selves, and are their dreamselves when the universes collide in, and were unable to godtier, due to not knowing about the quest slabs.

GODTIERING! & the rest of the chronological story

THIS is the order of the godtiers from the beginning of the Spanish-English session. Anyone in the other sessions who godtier before their universe collide event has a red numeral to keep them distinct. I feel pretty strongly almost everyone would godtier here, they're all characters based on gamers. Sburb au works exceptionally well when you know everyone's gaming style.

Also, yeah I have notes listed on each godtier order for how each person dies. Like it's that detailed atp.

Spreen has the highest kill count out of everyone on purpose. I think he'd be down to cut his friends down knowing they'd be revived immortal afterward. As well as, the federation is Prospit in this scenario, they want everyone to godtier. I think him playing to what they want out of him feels his style. Anyway, he sprites his own dreamself due to ElQuackity messing with timeloops. To make his living player self trust him, Spreensprite convinces him to godtier Roier first. It is himself he's talking to, after all. Roier becomes the first godtier in any universe, and not out of his own volition. After seeing it really did work with Roier, Spreen godtiers himself. He gets li'l bear ears ala Jade getting doggy ears with her dreamself sprited, he threw in a Rubius cubito to his kernelsprite first. I like the bear ears I'm biased .3. q!Spreen being really fun in a Sburb concept is why I got hooked on this au after all.

After the first lore is repeated, BBH godtiers himself by decapitating himself with a sendificator to fuck with Foolish. He's kinda bitter about getting beige clothes. He befriends the midnight crew at least. This is before he has Dapper. He finds out about godtiering from Roier by accident and then is like. Oh I have the BEST idea.

Vegetta is killed by Spreen by request, wanting to be stronger to protect Leo, and then Spreen godtiers Missa in order to use his time powers on Derse to throw his dreamself at the kernelsprite, locking the time loop. Anyway, Missa is essentially locked in a tower on Derse's moon after this, now permanently in his Dreamself's body, who hadn't awoken prior. Fit realizes people are walking around in weird clothes, hears about it vaguely from BBH, sends a text to Spreen who'd been ghosting him, and goes like. Hey man. Wanna kill me? And gets his first reply in months.

Phil is attacked by an overpowered monster and almost dies, and Missa manages to get the message to Fit that this is happening through time shenanigans, and Fit manages to get him to his questbed before he fully dies and loses his dreamself. Phil is not happy about this and could not be angrier. He doesn't blame Fit though it's like a self anger thing.

THE BRAZILIAN CASCADE HAPPENS! PEOPLE DIE. By which I mean Slimecicle and Mariana work together to try to help the Brazilians into the session in a bid at saving Juanaflippa, hoping one of them have the ability to revive her. Slimecicle is murdered in the crypts of Prospit by Quackity in a duel, where he cuts off Quackity's arm in exchange for Quackity cutting down his life. Truly one of those luck moments where Charlie dies on his questslab. Mariana is murdered at the same time by Spreen, who is now fully working under orders from the Federation.

Pre-cascade, Pac and Mike both godtier, because they stumble into a stable timeloop, by Mike accidentally glitching Pac's questslab into throwing it at him and killing him. He godtiers with this. Now, as a fully godtiered page of time, they make it to Mike's questbed, and godtier!Mike nudges Pac's slab at Past!Mike to pick up and throw when fucking around with powers.

Felps godtiers in the cascade along with Mariana and Slimecicle, they leave behind Derse and its moon, and they both get destroyed. Where his body sleeping on the quest slab godtiers. Aradia style. Except... as a Maid of Breath, his robot sprite body doesn't explode. He just sort of... exists in both. When one falls asleep the other wakes up. The rest of the Brazilian session just assumes the Cascade fucked with his robot body's energy sources. He kind of just figures each side is a weird dream he keeps having.

Cellbit is staunchly anti-godtier, while Forever wants someone he trusts to godtier him. Cellbit refuses to godtier Forever, and causes a major fight between them. Then Spreen murders Cellbit into his godtier under orders from the Federation, which is preceded by a long Scooby-doo-esque chase, where BBH sees them both, and decides to follow. BBH is a fully godtiered Knight of Life here, he has resurrection powers for other players, and Spreen is functionally immortal as well. BBH 100% catches up to him after he kills Cellbit, and proceeds to put Spreen in a torment nexus of dying and undeath. Thus ends the Killing Spree(n).

AND THEN THE FRENCH CASCADE HAPPENS! The final session connects, and Baghera sacrifices herself to make it happen. After they make it in, they learn about Quest slabs, and there's a whole thing with Etoiles dramatically getting her to her questslab before she fully dies. Etoiles then proceeds to go kill himself on the questslab immediately after. Felps is also hanging out with the French, they found him hanging out in the void and take him with them. They lose Kameto in the void however, nobody's really sure where he went.

Pre-French Cascade, Antoine is the only French player to godtier, and no one will explain how it happened. It seems like no one really knows, but Etoiles keeps saying more fantastical descriptions every time someone asks. He's never taken his seer hood off of his face.

Back in the order of the godtiers, Forever befriends Baghera, and eventually her and Etoiles and Cellbit help him godtier. It's a whole event. Richas is having a blast.

Bobby dies, and Jaiden decides to godtier in order to get into the Federation's good graces, as well as out of guilt of feeling that if she were stronger and godtiered she could have saved him. Roier godtiers her.

AyPierre is godtiered in a tragic accident with one of his many machines. Etoiles helps pull him to his quest bed. He's a Thief of Space he has fun with it.

Foolish is the second to last person to godtier, and he is godtiered by Pomme by accident. He wanted his godtier to be as cool as possible, and somehow managed to not godtier by this point. It's just very him. He's down with the page pants.

Quackity is the final member to godtier. BBH kills ElQ at one end of the universe with the aid of Maximus. Slimecicle kills the regular QQ in one final duel.

At the end of the universe, the only people left alive and able to contact the rest of the sessions to never godtier are Wilbur and Maxo.

DanTDM disappears on the Land of Synapses and Static, never to be seen again, along with Turnip following soon after.

Luzu finds a glitch and is absorbed by it not long after he enters.

Nobody is really sure if Kameto godtiered or not.

MISCELLANEOUS NOTES

We're currently working on figuring out sprites for everyone, so hey! I might come back and add an update on that, but this post is so long my computer is lagging. I have a gaming laptop. It shouldn't be doing that. Here's some stuff on the sprites we do have + some misc notes.

Cellbit's flashlightkind is like how Kanaya's lipstick works. It's a chainsaw.

Spreen has Spreensprite, BBH has Skeppysprite, Missa has a sprite that is a mysterious skull sprited twice called Skullskullsprite, and Roier has his dog with a spiderman called Dogmansprite, and Jaiden has Arisprite, who's Miku & Ari combined :D (thanks icarus!)

It is 5 am as I finish typing this and queue it. I think I started typing this at 5 pm yesterday. Feel free to comment any thoughts you have or play around in this au! Also feel free to @ me if you do, either on my main mcyt blog (@etoilesbienne), or here!

qsmpstuck tag on my art blog / qsmpstuck tag on my regular mcyt talk blog

#qsmp #qsmpstuck #qsmp au #qsmp homestuck au #mcytstuck

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