nth hour drama

The first time you pass by the troll in the box you kind of try not to see it. It's gross as fuck when people do this. You guess maybe it's better than driving them out into the country and dumping them to make it on their own, or those stories you've heard about people dumping unwanted wrigglers in sacks into rivers--those you try not to think about because fuck, that is not okay on any level but it's not like you can do shit about it.

Your name is John Egbert, and this is definitely not what you intended when you signed up to be a foster home for animals in legal cases. Either way, a bit of love and nursing to health, then his charges would be ready for trial, and a rewarding, happy home. You'd seen trolls on television and YouTube, they were popular exotic pets with celebrities. Certain breeds were even useful for guide pets and companion animals for the elderly. Since they were almost-sentient, of course. Almost.

Your name is Rosa Maryam and you grew up dreaming of a perfect family, being the perfect wife, the perfect mother. After the miscarriage at eighteen, you were lost. After the divorce a year later, you were broken. When hope arrives in the strangest possible form, a well-intended but tasteless gift, you don't recognize it. Not at first.You did not give birth to your son but he is yours, and he saved your life, and you will never let anyone hurt him.

Set several months after UFUT: the SPCT initiative continues to grow, Cronus Ampora receives some much-needed therapy, parking in Baltimore does not stop being deplorable, and troll genomics are explored. THIS FIC HAS BEEN DISCONTINUED My apologies to everyone who has been patiently waiting for an update. I have put an outline of what would have happened in chapter 10 if you are interested.

Jane had never really been interested in owning a troll; many other humans did but Jane never felt the desire to do so. First, she was too busy doing her business degree even if she was working on it from home and secondly she wasn't exactly comfortable about having an intelligent apex predator living in her house. Of course, she hadn't counted on catching a feral troll rummaging through her garbage at three in the morning. She remembered all the signs and posters and commercials everywhere- never feed a wild troll, because if you did they would immediately associate you with food and then start permanently hanging around which would drastically increase the chances of being mauled. After all, trolls were known to kill bears and could even open doors on their own; even 'tame' trolls were dangerous and should be handled with care. Wild ones were even more capricious and could easily kill a human. However Jane took one look at the troll's lanky frame, unkempt fur and lackluster scales and she knew she couldn't just ignore him. The cooking genes in her were too strong for her to turn away the hungry.

In a world where human hybrid "pets" are all the rage with the Rich and well to do, Gamzee Makara isn't so lucky when he is abandoned in a park and chained to a bikerack. Karkat Vantas, a poor retail worker, stumbles upon the poor puppy and saves him from the bitter cold rain but... is that really the best thing for the hybrid?