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ggomos-maribat · 8 months

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8 | in which Bruce is not the only aspiring Marinette-adopter

Part 8 of No Mr. Wayne You Can't Adopt Me! | Masterlist

"A visit to the Kent family farm?" Marinette echoed, "This sounds like a family event only. Are you sure I should be going?"

"I know it sounds like I'm pre-adopting you—"

"Yes, it absolutely sounds like that—"

"But Dick suggested for you to come instead of him since he won't be able to come," Bruce explained. "Besides, Lois specifically asked for you."

Lois, huh. Marinette felt an incoming headache already. On one hand, a part of her knew she should be declining it firmly but it would be terribly impolite to turn down the invitation as well. It was a problem indeed.

But if I go, I can just stick to the Kents and avoid the Waynes, right? She wondered. It's free food too and I won't need to work on a Friday.

One work week later, she ended up squeezed inside a van with Bruce behind the wheel, driving to Smallville. She had a basket of pastries at her feet, window to her left and Damian on her right. Everything seemed to be going fine when—

Screech!

The car suddenly halted and before Marinette knew it, Damian's arm was in front of her to keep her from face-planting on the back of the car seat.

"Sorry! There was a dog!" Bruce apologized from the front seat.

"If you were gonna drive this bad, you should've let me drive instead," Jason groaned from the passenger seat, rubbing his head.

"Yeah, Bruce, you should've told us if you were gonna send us to an early grave," Stephanie piped up from the back. "Damn it Cass, we have to redo the cracker tower."

When Marinette took a peek, she saw that the girls were trying to pile up some Ritz crackers on top of a sleeping Tim's forehead. Tim (lucky for him) was just snoring away the whole time.

Bruce threw his second son a look. "We both know you're going above the speed limit if you drive."

"I only speed when I'm on my bike!" Jason denied. "I can definitely drive better than you, old man."

Marinette figured these were the effects of not having Alfred around. The butler had to go to the farm ahead of them in the promise of helping the elder Kents prepare. But Marinette knew Alfred just secretly wanted to escape the family's chaos.

"Are you okay?" Damian whispered beside her. She nodded and smiled in reply.

In fact, Marinette was about to open her mouth to offer to drive but then she remembered her agreement with Bruce: on the trip, she wasn't supposed to act as an assistant but rather a family friend. She sighed inwardly in defeat.

"Father, if you're already too old to drive, I can take over the wheel as well," Damian said.

"I'm not too old to drive." Bruce rolled his eyes. "It's fine, I can handle this."

"Famous last words," Jason scoffed. "If Dickie were here he'd arrest you for reckless driving."

"I'm not recklessly driving!"

Marinette withheld a chuckle. Seeing someone causing trouble for Bruce other than herself was amusing. She stretched as much as the small space allowed her and whispered to Damian, "Can I rest my head on you?"

He stared at her for a moment. "Of course."

Grinning, Marinette leaned her head against his shoulder. Their arms were only slightly touching but she could feel his warmth. From her position, she could see Bruce squinting at them through the rearview mirror.

"Bruce, eyes on the road please," Duke warned.

Bruce huffed through his nose but focused on driving.

"Why can't Clark take us there instead?" Stephanie complained, "It'll be much faster."

An image was painted in Marinette's head: Superman carrying the van over the skies while Bruce sulked on the front seat.

"He's busy," Bruce replied, glancing towards Marinette (probably checking if she found the statement odd). "Don't you think I'm perfectly capable of taking us there safely?"

"Nope," Stephanie responded.

"Ditto," Cass said.

Stephanie snorted out a laugh. "I only agreed to go anyway 'cause Kara and Lois are there."

"Ditto."

"Hey if he gets any worse at driving, I'll call Alfred and tell him we got kidnapped," Jason suggested.

"No, you're not," Bruce sighed in exasperation.

"Twenty-one crackers!" Stephanie cheered suddenly. "Agghh, hold it there Cass, I'm taking a picture!"

Marinette's gaze strayed downwards. Our hands are really, really close. Their knuckles are just barely brushing. Sucking in a breath, she moved her fingers to touch the back of Damian's hand. To her surprise, his hand wrapped around hers with his thumb rubbing her knuckles.

The car swerved again.

"BRUCE!"

"That's it, I'm calling Alfred."

"Fuck! The crackers!"

". . . Wha . . . huh? What's happening?"

***

"Where is she?! Where's Marinette?"

One of the things Marinette dreaded. Seeing Lois Lane-Kent again. The woman practically squeezed past the other Kent boys to lock her in a suffocating hug the moment she stepped out of the van.

"Marinette!" Lois said, pulling away and squishing her cheeks together. "Jeez, recommend an assistant job to a girl and she never reaches out anymore!"

"I answer your calls sometimes," Marinette weakly protested.

"But no visits." Lois turned to Bruce with an accusatory glare. "Are you overworking the poor girl?!"

"No, no, I'm fine." Marinette gently pulled away from her hold while Bruce escaped to help the others prepare the picnic table. "It's a great job, honestly. The pay is very generous."

"You know Marinette, Lois?" Duke asked as he helped unload another box from the van.

"You haven't told them?" Lois looked at her, and Marinette responded with a sheepish look.

Lois smiled proudly, wrapping an affectionate arm around Marinette. "I had the absolute honor of interviewing this girl about the Paris akuma attacks. She was the civilian aide for the heroes!"

"Lois," Marinette groaned.

"We kept in touch, and I was the one who suggested she get a PA job at WE when she moved to Gotham." Lois patted the top of her head. "Hmph, on second thought I should've kept you as an assistant for myself."

"I told you, journalism isn't my expertise," said Marinette.

"You're a brilliant girl, you can learn! If you stay in Metropolis, you can even live with us!"

Marinette's eyes widened in horror. "No please, I've had enough of serial adopters."

"What? Oh, is Bruce trying to . . ." She scowled at the girl's boss again. "I knew it! I knew this would happen, agh I shouldn't have sent you to him!"

"Lois . . . no, you can't legally adopt me . . ."

The woman's eyes gleamed. "But illegally?"

"You were a civilian aide?" Damian asked, staring at Marinette.

"No big deal. I just worked behind the scenes to help defeat Hawkmoth." She kept a wary eye on Bruce. If he were to find out, he will combust for sure . . . and become more adamant on adopting her.

"Read my article, you'll see how amazing she is!" Lois boasted.

"Lois, please," Marinette sighed. "I'll go set these up at the table."

Fortunately, a savior by the name of Ma Kent called Lois back to the house so Marinette was able to shake her off. She was grateful for the journalist, really—recounting what happened to Paris was no easy feat and often other reporters liked to focus on the heroes and villain only, not the trauma or lasting damage on the city. Lois even helped her settle in, lecturing her on the dangers of Gotham despite not being its resident.

But Lois was . . . the second one who expressed the desire of adopting her before Bruce.

"Didn't know the Waynes had a new one," a new voice said.

"Kon!" Marinette put down the basket and reached up to hug the boy. "I didn't know you're here!"

"When I heard you were coming, I knew I couldn't miss this." Kon raised an eyebrow. "You're such a traitor, Mars, you're one of them now?"

"Of course not!" She huffed. "I wanted to skip out on work and, er, Lois wanted me to come."

Another familiar face approached the two. "Full offense, but you look like you're part of the Wayne family now."

Marinette lowered her tone to a whisper, leaning to give Jon a side hug. "Mr. Wayne wishes." She rolled her eyes. "But he can't, obviously."

A few feet away from them, Clark fell into a coughing fit. Oops, he heard that didn't he? Marinette's cheeks reddened.

She had been visiting Metropolis during her third meet up with Lois. At that time, she had the two boys join them for lunch, and that was when Marinette got to meet them. Both seemed just as energetic as the Wayne boys, by her observation, but in a different way.

Jon threw an arm around her shoulder. "Hey, is it just me or Damian looks extra broody?"

"Probably . . . jealous?" Kon looked at the boy.

"Jealous of what?" asked Jon. Slowly, his head turned towards Marinette, seemingly coming to a realization little by little. "What? No way."

"Maybe . . . yes way." Marinette brushed a hand over her bangs. "There was this, um, thing on our way here you see."

"What is it? What is it?"

Marinette rubbed her heated cheek. "I'll tell you later!"

Just then, Clark came to the table to set down some glasses and utensils. "It's nice seeing you again, Marinette. You haven't run into another Batman-related trouble I hope?"

"Batman-related trouble?" Jon repeated, directing a curious look towards her.

"Nope, not at all," Marinette chuckled. "In fact, he stalked me one night in an empty street just to apologize."

Clark's eyebrows raised. "He did?"

"You never told us that!" Kon chimed in.

"I know, it's a long story." Marinette grinned evilly. "But I think it's best told over lunch with everyone."

***

"Tea or coffee?" Marinette asked her guest, who was sitting at her humble dining table, hands folded together.

"Tea please, my dear. I do miss your personal brew—it's one of a kind."

Marinette rolled her eyes as she grabbed a teacup from the upper cabinets. "Flattery will get you nowhere."

The guest tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "It's not flattery. It's only a comment."

Marinette prepared the tea diligently, and even brought out leftover banana bread she made for herself and her neighbors. From her periphery, she could see the woman looking over the photographs she had framed on the pastel walls. "There's too much of you who want to adopt me, you know," she said.

"Oh?"

"My boss and . . . Lois just the other day. I don't know if she was joking or not." Marinette scrunched her nose. "Seriously, legally none of you can adopt me."

"Who said I was going to do it by legal means?"

"Kwamis, don't say that, Talia. I think Bruce is an inch away from doing it under the table too."

With the tea and snacks prepared, Marinette put everything on a wooden tray she put together herself and brought it over to the table. If she anticipated Talia's visit, she would've cooked an entire meal. Alas, the woman popped up during the most unexpected hours.

"Your honey jar is very cute." Talia chuckled.

"Hmpf. It was a gift." A house-warming (or apartment-warming?) gift from Adrien: a custom transparent jar with a cat design painted on it. The top of the dipper's handle was carved out into a paw.

"How is Damian, by the way?"

"I thought you came here as a friend." Marinette crossed her arms. "It's not my job to keep tabs on your son."

"I know that, my dear, but he doesn't like seeing me . . ."

"Just talk to him." Marinette took a bite of her bread. "You know, the key to being emotionally constipated is to actually let it all out."

Marinette had met Talia al Ghul way before she met Bruce or any of the Waynes. She found out the woman's connection to them much later, however. After becoming guardian and losing Fu to amnesia, Talia had become somewhat of a mentor to her. Someone who taught her more about eccentric skills than magical knowledge and responsibility (the woman was crazy skilled in the most random things, it used to drive Marinette crazy). Since they'd parted aways after she graduated, Marinette saw her more like a troublesome aunt than a teacher.

"He has taken an interest in you, no?" The way her emerald eyes glittered spoke of her slyness.

"Taliaaa," Marinette groaned.

"What? It is very funny how fate brought you two together." She sighed wistfully. "I never saw it coming."

"Do you seriously want me to be with your son just so you can make me your daughter?"

"What's the problem? You like him too, right?"

"Talia!"

She shrugged. "'I'm just saying I'm not opposed to the relationship."

Marinette rubbed her face, hoping to ease off the heat on her cheeks. "I thought you're here to see how I'm doing, not badger me about my love life. You're starting to sound like my mom."

Talia's grin grew wide. "Your mom?"

"Wait, no—"

Talia set her chin on top of her locked hands. "Would you like a League-themed wedding, my dear? Have a little blood pact mixed in?"

"Damian and I aren't even marrying!"

"Yet," the woman added. "I can't wait to have you in the family. I've got the perfect heirlooms to pass on to you. A sword, if you'd like or even a kunai."

"Oh, come on—"

"You have my complete blessing Marinette," she cooed. "In fact, I'd rather have Damian be with no one else but you."

Marinette stood up so quickly, red in the face, and her chair scraped the floor. "I'm going to bed."

Talia reached over to grab her hand. "Leaving your guest all alone! Where are the manners I taught you?"

"I'd actually love to chat if you have something else to talk about," Marinette huffed.

"Alright, alright, sit down. I'll behave myself, I promise." The former mentor smiled. Marinette narrowed her eyes. She should've closed her window that night.

***

After a debate with herself, Marinette decided to voice out her request to Bruce at the time she served coffee and snacks in his office. She was setting down his mug on a coaster when she popped the question: "Mr. Wayne, can I have next Thursday off? I can work on Saturday to make up for it."

Bruce looked up from his screen. "Hm? What for?"

"I've finally decided to let Lois adopt me."

"What?" Marinette had never seen Bruce so panicked. She didn't know if she should laugh or feel sorry for it.

"I'm kidding." She transferred the snacks next from the rolling cart. "Some of my friends are visiting Gotham, but their only free day is on Thursday. I haven't seen them in a while so I really want to catch up."

Bruce slowly regained his composure, clearing his throat. "Right. Of course you can go, Marinette. No need for the extra hours."

". . . Are you sure you'll be fine without me?"

"Yes, we have no meetings scheduled that day, do we?" Bruce waved the thought off. "Enjoy the day off. You deserve it."

***

It was Chloe who got them the reservations for their dinner: an open air chabudai-style restaurant that served Japanese cuisine. The tables were low, comfy enough for them to sit cross-legged on cushions while still keeping elegance.

Marinette sipped on her drink and nudged Luka with her shoulder. "You never told us what you were in Gotham for."

The now world-renowned musician ran a hand through his hair. "Dad's having a tour around the U.S. He wanted to check the venue here since this is the last stop. Our band's opening."

Marinette sucked in a breath. "Congrats, Luka! I didn't know about that, Jagged hasn't put out a commission yet!"

"Planning's still in the works." Luka smiled. "I'm sure Penny will reach out soon."

Adrien groaned and stretched his arms. "I'm so fuullll." He fell on his back, positioning his head on Marinette's lap.

"I told you to lay off on the maki roll," Chloe tsked to which Adrien stuck out a tongue in reply.

Marinette ignored the bickering pair and turned to Kagami. "What about you, Kags? Have you met up with your new student yet?"

"What new student?" asked Adrien.

"You're not reading the group chat, are you?" Chloe scolded.

"It's alright, I only mentioned it in passing." Kagami poured more cups of beer for Luka and Chloe. "A former coach told me about a rising fencing prodigy in Gotham. I wanted to take a look for myself if I can mentor them. Unfortunately there was an emergency at the airport earlier so I'm meeting them tomorrow instead."

Marinette grimaced, distinctly remembering that some Rogues had broken into the airport in the morning.

"Prodigy or not, the kid's gonna be an international level pro if you're the coach, Gami," Adrien pointed out.

"Hm. You have too much faith in me."

"What about you, Maribug? How's work?" Chloe directed her inquisitive gaze at the girl.

"Just the same old." With a little bit of something going on with my boss' son. "My boss still wants to adopt me, everyday's busy, sometimes I get caught up in robberies and hostage situations for a little spice."

"M'lady?" Adrien suddenly said in a soft voice.

Marinette reached down to stroke his hair. "What's up?"

"I think I saw something move behind the trees over there."

Marinette squinted into the dark, past the lantern lights. Familiar . . . shadows moved around, cloaked by the darkness.

"Oh hell no," she whispered. "What the fuck? Those are the Gotham vigilantes."

Adrien's lips shaped into an 'o'. "Ohhh, I think . . . I think they're here because of me."

"What?"

"Well, the small business I asked to do the landscaping for our runway event is Pam and Harley’s," Adrien explained. "I talked to them earlier and they got worried since it's my first time here in Gotham. They offered a security detail even when I said I didn't need any!"

"And that . . . security detail are the vigilantes?" Chloe stared.

"Guess so. Hey, do you think we should offer them some food?" Adrien sat up and waved at the shadows. "Do you think they'll join us?"

"Adrien," Marinette groaned. "Anyone but them."

"What, why?"

***

Meanwhile . . .

"Rob, you've been staring at Marinette and that guy for a long time."

"I am not."

"Are you jealous? She said they're her friends right? They must be really close."

"Tt."

Taglist: @hammalammadamdam @animegirlweeb @fairlyfatale @agentxx92

#maribat fic #maribat fanfic #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #maribat #dc x miraculous #NMWYCAM #PA!Marinette

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ceilidho · 3 months

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Do you have any advice or tips for writing dialogue? It's what I struggle most with 😩😩😩

haha I wish I did 😩 honestly this one sucks the most for me because I truly feel like I don't understand how people talk, or like, I'm really only beginning to get it. I remember spending most of my teenage years (I started writing fanfiction around age 13 or so) really not understanding how people talk to each other and being supremely confused about it.

Once again, the biggest help you're ever going to get is just watching a lot and reading a lot and paying attention to how people talk. I mentioned this in my other writing advice ask, so I'll just reiterate below and add some other observations I have on how people speak:

If you're writing fanfiction, watch or read the source material as much as possible, until you can almost hear the way the character sounds in your head. Take time to understand things like their accent and how they speak (do they talk a lot or very little? do they use slang or enunciate everything? do they speak quickly or slowly?). Here, you just want to concentrate on the cadence of their speech / their speech patterns. If they speak plainly or use lots of proverbs or turns of phrases, that sort of thing. If you have that down, you've honestly done half the work. Even I often reread my work and go "fuck, all of these people SOUND the same even though they're saying different things".

A super important point I should make before anything else is that dialogue is intrinsic to character. If you have a taciturn, sullen, aloof character, they probably won't be a very emotional or heartfelt interlocutor. The things (the content of their dialogue) they'll want to speak about will also reflect this - they might complain more often, might not offer praise as readily. They won't ask for help or share vulnerable parts of them.

A more positive character will be the exact opposite of that. They might be more eager to offer advice or praise. They might feel nervous or uncomfortable about confrontation or calling someone out if they're doing something the character doesn't like.

Essentially, when you're not sure what a character would say, think about:

Who is this person? What are their core attributes?

What is their end goal from this conversation? (or, if it's just chatter / conversation for conversation's sake, what kinds of topics might they be interested in?)

If there is a goal, how would this particular character achieve it (or would they be unsuccessful if they're too timid or mean about it)? Would they be blunt, circumlocutory, deliberately confusing, manipulative - would they get frustrated with themselves because even the character isn't able to say the thing they want to say?

Another thing you have to understand about the way people speak, even if this is VASTLY frustrating when writing because it takes you longer to get to the point, is that people rarely just outright say what they want. Sooommeeee people do, but even in your personal life you'll know those kinds of people to be blunt, straight forward, etc. Most people aren't like that. If you need to take the extra chapter or couple paragraphs to wrangle the truth out of someone, that's pretty natural.

I try to avoid clichés or anything corny in my dialogue unless it makes sense for that character (for instance, Price might be more likely to use like generic white guy colloquialisms like "you're barking up the wrong tree" or "let's rock and roll" lmaoo).

Anyway, I don't have much advice for dialogue because I also struggle with it, but one thing to keep in mind is that readers are very aware of characterization, even subconsciously. Don't sacrifice good characterization even if it means you need to redo a scene or take longer to get to something.

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ciearcab · 1 month

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I've been curious for a while now how you draw poses. How do you use references? Everything you make looks so natural but still lively it's so gorgeous

ghghfghn thankyou! i definitely feel like the worst person to ask for advice on this from, but i'll try and explain some of my thought process when working with character-focused art (and posing them!)

(rambling below the cut)

i think that understanding human form in general is probably the best way to feel confident in posing even if that sounds like what everyone says. when you feel familiar with the shapes of a body it's far easier to understand the rules in which they will move/interact with, and then composition in general tends to come a little easier.

When i start a pose (or just. character art in general) i like to try and work with the most bare-bones type sketch possible. I dont visualize things in my head very clearly, so when i do try and copy a reference or detailed sketch 1 to 1, it usually ends up incredibly stiff and boring because i get stuck following all the details. the way i break down shapes is a little off as well, i think in very angular and long lines, so i like to use the chest, knees, and shoulders as my "anchor points" for my figures - they're what i personally consider the most prominent points to focus on visually and i usually will build my pose around their placements. i think it’s good to come up with something like this to help ground your pose early on.

when i draw multiple characters interacting or in the same scene, i like to try and think of poses that feel in-character or natural to them. these two in my recent piece started out kinda cutesy but they argue a lot, so you can see the change as i readjusted the posing to make it feel more aggressive as i went along.

redoing a portion of a character midway through for whatever reason is pretty standard in my process, so i dont stress if i cant quite figure out a limb or perspective at first (this is when i will look for reference if i dont have one or take my own photos).

I dont really enjoy drawing characters just standing around, so doing something that feels more like a "scene" or moment of interaction like this (being scolded at for an injury, chatting, reading a book, catching a falling object, etc etc) is a nice way to try and come up with something at least a little more compelling to draw, and a way to work some body language into the poses too. legs and arms can make great space-fillers while still adding to the mood!

i dont really know how to wrap this up but as a general rule of thumb i try to think of poses that will fill the space of the canvas/image im drawing on, just like any other composition, while still considering the feeling or moment i want to convey. if i’m unhappy with the final full piece, i usually will just crop for a closer image (posting on other platforms usually makes me do this anyways, so i consider it part of the process at this point ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

#ciear answers

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mycraftingjourney · 6 months

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Introduction post

I wanted to give a bit of an introduction to why I'm here, what I'm doing and so on.

tl;dr: I like clothes and I'm into sustainability, so I started (visible) mending a few month or so ago. I also crochet, although not as much as I'd like to, and I dabble a bit in embroidery. My goal is to kind of document my journey with these crafts and maybe inspire people to give some of these a try.

I'd also love to talk about all things (visible) mending, crochet, embroidery and fiber arts in general and share the knowledge I have / point people who want to start to some resources that helped me.

I've been into fashion/clothes and styling them on and off for a big part of my life. A few years ago, I also got into sustainability, learning about how buying new fast fashion damages our planet and exploits other human beings, and what may be good alternatives.

This path, inevatibly, lead down to getting curious about mending. I learned basic sewing skills when I was a child, but I never altered any clothes and apart from a few tiny things never mended anything.

However, this year, I wanted to change that. I've heard about visible mending before and I really liked it. I had a pair of jeans when I was a teenager that was patched (by someone else) that was my favourite pair. Unfortunately, I managed to ruin it beyond repair and also grew out of it, but this stuck with me. I always liked to express myself creatively, and in recent years, what I wear has become a big part of that. The idea that by visibly mending my clothes I express my passion for sustainability feels really good (and punk!) to me. The idea of altering clothes that I don't currently love but could love if something about them was changed is also a nice one.

I only darned my first sock a few months ago. My goal with this blog is to share this first darn as well as the progress I make, because I want to encourage other people. You don't have to make perfect mends to be sustainable. On the contrary, mend imperfectly, mend messy, but DO MEND. Even if you'll have to redo it at one point, when you have more skill, even if you don't end up redoing it and instead use that piece of clothing for something else, you still gave it another wear, or two, or three (or fifty) - and that's what this is all about.

I tend to be an extreme perfectionist and it's hard for me to deal with a situation where I'm not perfect at a first try. Surprise surprise, I am not when it comes to mending, or embroidery, or crochet, or anything at all really. But I'm trying to let that go and concentrate on what I achieve rather than what I did "wrong" or imperfectly. I want to share my messy bits and the things I'm proud of, and I want to update how the mends I did held up. As i mentioned above, I hope that maybe I'll inspire some people to pick up a needle as well. Even if you "only" fix that button or a ripped up seam. Every mend counts!

When I get into altering or even making clothes, I will share those projects too, but that will have to wait a bit since I don't currently have any space to put up my sewing machine and I do simply not have the energy nor patience to hand sew bigger things.

Apart from mending I also crochet. Talking more about that feels like a bit of an overkill here, I'll make a new post for that.

Recently I also started to embroider, with the idea of using embroidery in my (visible) mending and to embellish clothes. Here again I decided on a project where I just start and don't try to be perfect from the beginning on, I'll share more about that as well as my crochet project(s) soon.

I think this should be enough for the moment with the introduction. One thing about me, as you probably got by now, is that I'm really bad at being brief with my writing. I have no idea how often I will manage to make posts on here due to work and life, but I will try to do them quiet regularly, as well as sharing things I see that might be helpful / interesting / that inspire me. I also think I'll probably only write more for bigger projects but also just share stuff I'm working on / finished recently.

Maybe I'll also share other DIYs that are not really crafts/fiber arts related but I think are cool.

This isn't my main blog (thats @merryfromthestars), so if I follow I follow from there.

I'm also always open to questions, discussions etc. so just send me an ask or dm if you want! Just, I might take a moment to answer them, because life and work :) I'm excited to see where this journey takes me, and I hope some people will come along and maybe get inspired.

#sewing #diy #crochet #fiber art #fiber arts #long post #embroidery #sustainability #sustainable fashion #crochetblr #mending #visible mending #personal #solarpunk

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not-a-big-slay · 2 months

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Until it doesn't hurt

kaz brekker x fem!reader

summary:betrayal leaves some wounds behind, but even more questions when you can't figured out from whom it really came from.

warnings: violence, cursing

type: fluff

part: 12/13

previous part: part 11 masterlist

a/n: please, please, PLEASEEUHH im SO SO SORRY! it has been almost a FUCKING YEAR SINCE THE LAST CHAPTER?! HELLO?! WHO TF DO I THINK I AM? i need to keep myself in line cuz this aint normal! i have been hiatus for soo long i need to pull it together. anywayy, its finished finally. its long ahh hell and im gonna be working on another part immediately so it wont be another 50 years dw. dont mind any grammar mistakes, english is not my first language and i have written one half of this in 2023, so i really dont feel like redoing it lol. i dare you if you can recognize where exactly i picked this draft up again. anyway, pleasee enjoy!!

also, sike, its not the last part hehe, there will be part 13 AND an epilogue

taglist (hi yall :'))

@chickencouncilrep

@venomsvl

@happy-nico

@twlegit

@ravenmedows

@blathena

‎

She had lost again.

That would be the third time tonight. Her change was getting thin and she predicted it would take one more game before she had to go kill someone for free again. So much for making a ton of money with this job. The girl watched her opponent spoon the coins from the table with one hand, laughing: "One more game and I'll have to dig up another grave, Y/N." Others laughed, so she wasn't the only one thinking that after all. It was logical, she really had to stop playing with grown men, they wasted away their old nights playing poker at this very table and she had other, young people things to do. It would be wise to get up and leave, no one would judge her for that. They would maybe even cheer her on, finally making a rational decision, no one ever seen that before when it came to her. Yet the thought of doing so was being blocked by a high indestructable wall, one that never goes away and will only be built higher.

If she does leave, she has to go home.

Her mother is probably fast asleep already, it is possible she could go to bed unnoticed and leave early in the morning. This option she used very little as Y/N never wanted to come back there. A year ago, after her mother left her blood soak through the wooden floor, Y/N made promise into her scars that she will never lay eyes on mother again. She successed in that for a year so far, becoming a hitman that was quite infamous in town. But her fame started growing from mockery, as she was really addicted to poker.

Her eyes gazed on Tim, the cemetary worker, the buryer as she liked to call him. He was one of the granpas at this table, but one of the peaceful people in town. He never wanted her to kill, just to help him with his work, although Y/N hated it more than the murders, she didn't like the aftermath of her work. Tim, being satisfied, started organizing the coins on the table. No, she cannot go home tonight.

"So what's it gonna be, kid?" asked the other player, Miyka. Her green eyes stared on Y/N's face, her wrinkles scrunched in excitment. Oh, how she hated all of them. The girl faked thinking about it before tossing dramatically her last money onto the table. "I bet 20." It didn't sound as good when she started that low, but it was all she had left. Intstead of the usual giggle and witty lines and jokes they threw her way before following up on her bad choices, they sighed, almost in dissapointment. It frustrated her, it seemed like they cared what she does instead of what amount of money she holds. It seemed like they cared about her. A wave of fear pushed her like a tsunami at this thought. People that cared ended up hating her, hurting her.

"What!" she snapped. Miyka looked at Lios, her brother, in concern, while Tim silently reorganized his coins. She looked around the table, frown getting deeper and frustration blooming wider. What was wrong with them. "Well, Y/N" Lios began, "We are just kinda...worried about you. That's all." Miyka took the word next- her previous question has been an obvious tease, the girl was dissapointed. "You clearly have nowhere to go, so you are spending your time here which is.... we get it, but." She sighed, trying to find the right words. "It's not good." Tim helped her and smiled at Y/N as if it would calm her. It did not in fact, she felt more and more anxious about their care, anxious situations made her angry. She wondered why she didn't kill them all instead of those free targets, she would never have to pay another debt again, because there would be no poker players left to play and her addiction would dissapear. "So that's it, huh? You ain't gonna play because you are scared I could actually win?" she said in her defense. Nonsense, she knew, but her heart was sweating and she was glad it didn't blow up yet. "We just care, Y/N, that-"

"Care?! Remind me Lios of just how many people I killed for you, then talk about caring for someone's life!" she spat as she stood up. Lios was more than content to her way of paying, she had no idea why he apparently cared when he could have another enemy at his feet if he just played one more game. Miyka tried to calm her down, touching her hand softly only for Y/N to flinch, hard. Her vision began to blur, the floor shook beneath her and sweat poured on her face. It was like the room was on fire, but she was the only one feeling it. Other people at the pub, being entertainted by the game or simply just hanging ot there, looked worried, some even disturbed by her behaviour.

What was happening to her?

She leaned on the table with her palms, the wood trying to ground her as she closed her eyes to not feel theirs. Voices of the players echoed her head as sounds in a cave and they felt distant, but still could make her more nervous with their caring attitude. They soon fell in whispers, driving her insane. Then, she caught one voice that silenced all the muttering, it was clear, quiet yet she felt as if its breath was in her ear. "Why play, when you can take a life for the exact amount of money laying on this table?"

She recognized the voice, it belong to the fourth player, Haltt. His voice was known only in the game. Hearing him say a sentence was unusual and therefore very powerful. It was deep, low, hard. It had authority and respect and it didn't need to ask for it. He had everyone's attention, he controlled the room with only his silent voice.

Y/N's eyes looked into his dark ones, she had to find them in the shadows floating around him, as if he commanded to them as well. "What are you saying?" she asked carefully, not knowing why. Haltt observed the table, his salt-and-pepper- although more salt than pepper- short beard surrounding his mouth as it counted the cash, then let out a little chuckle that brought goosebumps to everyone close to him. "920 Neredi. Being a hitman, a respectful hitman, would make this amount your pocket change." He grabbed the rest of her money she threw on the table and looked over to Tim. The buryer shook his head hesitantly, knowing what Haltt wants to do, but all it took was the man's neutral gaze for Tim to fold. Y/N watched him slowly scooping the money and anger took over. She pinned his hand to the table, not looking away from his face. She could hear people drawing breaths in fear, but she was free from all the anxiety now, she was grounded by his scary presence, she liked it even.

Haltt's head slowly turned to her direction, his eyes creating a straight path to hers, his eyebrows climbing up as he said softly: " You want this?" When she didn't respond, he stood up, took her hand off of his gently, not letting go as his freed hand reached behind his back, pulling out a gun. She observed quickly, it was an older model, it was small and only one bullet fit into it- however she knew a man like Haltt would only ever need one bullet- he then rotated her hand and placed it in her palm. He released her only when she seized it. Y/N let her hand warm the handle before looking up at Haltt again. "Then go make it." he finished his statement and sat back down in the shadows. Y/N checked the inside of the gun and she confirmed her knowledge about it.

She scoffed. "One bullet" Haltt nodded as if he answered to her statement. "That's all you need, I know your skills." his glass clincked when his rings touched it, raising it to his lips. She waited until he drank the remainings of his whiskey, having the suspision he might continue. "You kill the target, you'll get double of this." Her surprise was voiced by everyone around her, gasping and unbelievably whispering. Lios looked at Haltt, telling him he cannot do this. But Haltt only looked at her. "No one here wants you to play. You made them care, something a hitman shouldn't do." She squeezed her free hand into a fist, knowing his eyes are reading her like cards on the table. He leaned in: "Take your reputation back, make them fear you instead." he said quietly and it seemed only she heard it. He retreated back into his seat, letting her simmer in his words.

She knew people stopped perceiving her as a threat, a force to be reckon with, a fearful killer, and started to look at her as a 15 year old that sometimes threw tantrums. People smiled at her, old men laughed at her when they drank beer at the bar, as if she was their granddaughter doing silly things. Once, she was feared, but now she behaved like an old woman trapped inside a teenage body with gambling addiction and alcoholism. Everyone treated her as a kid she never was, but Haltt seemed to remember who she was 6 months ago, to trust her potential, her skills she never lost, but used them to not drown in debts, not to her job. She suddenly became so connected to him, she was hypnotized. The sound of the chatty room blurred again as she explored the gray ocean behind Haltt's eyes. He let her, grinning as he watched her back straighten and her nose breathing in deeply. Then came the question:

"Who is the target?"

Halt's smile stabbed through his cheeks as he answered.

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Inej didn't allow herself a break until she got the that exact building Y/N told her to. She was nervous to say the least. If everything goes right, Pekka Rollins will be dead. It was unbelievable to even think about. The moonlight caressed her back and the salty wind danced around her in excitment. Ketterdam is cheering for them, it will be better off without Rollins. She thought of ways how to carve his heart out, she wanted to make a heart-shaped hole, but it was too complicated making the curves, it would take too long and she didn't want him to die before she was finished. She needed something quick, but symbolic. After all, when the stadwatch will find his body, her work should be admired. Or Deln's work, she hated he will take credit for it, but it's definitely for the best.

Soon, the spider heard two sets of footsteps beneath her. She looked down carefully, confirming it's Y/N. In the dark, she couldn't much see her 'friend', but she could feel the disgust and fear Y/N had from above, suspecting he might not be an actual friend after all. Another secret of hers she wished to uncover after this is over. The way Jesper talked about this girl is riling up an interest in her. She wanted to get to know her better, her fate might not much differ from her own and she would like to hear her story, she would like to see why Kaz seemed to hate her so much. She also hoped Y/N will stay with them after this. For Jesper's sake and maybe for Nina's nerves as she looked worried about her.

As Y/N dissapeared into the alley, Inej grabbed her knife, Sankt Petyr, that she sharpened moments before. The wind picked up and she stood motionlessly at the edge of the building. She watched lightened windows in the Smeet Residence, hoping no one will think about looking outside tonight. The house reminded her of one she encountered at the southern colonies of Novyi Zem. It was in a horrible shape compared to this, but it was a haven for the citizens there, they admired it like people in Ketterdam admire The Exchange. It was luxurious given the state of the land.

Her train of thought stopped before it reached a station, because her ears picked up a subtle voice, then a laugh. The sounds got louder as they slowly approached her. Rollins must be pretty nervous of the meet-up if he talked to himself, or he was not alone. A slight panic rose in Inej's chest and she prepared to make the uninvited dissapear. If Rollins truly had some company, she would have to wait until he saw Y/N to take it out, otherwise he might see her and change his mind. If we won't do it, somebody else will brought out fire in her stomach. The girl was right, if they won't try the lovely dessert of revenge, others might eat it whole with no crumbs left. She suspected Pekka is the main character in many unfinished death threats and planned out vengeances.

The Wraith took a deep breath as her eyes closed, slowing down her rapid heartbeat filled with excitment. When she opened them, the bright windows from the residence, along with the dimmed lights on the streets aluminated two beings walking. One was definitely the leader of one of the most dangerous gangs in Ketterdam.

And so was the other one.

She silently gasped, panicking again, her heartbeat picking up. What the fuck is Kaz doing here? And why was he bent over with Rollins' hand around his neck. Even though they were right across her, Inej was oblivious to their conversation- well, monologue if she was more accurate- because she was way too busy feeling the plan fall apart. This wasn't supposed to happen, Kaz was meant to know nothing and then just cheer and celebrate once they'd be done. Why did he always took matters into his hands?.

When she came back to reality, they were almost in the alleyway. The spider quickly followed them, never taking her eyes off of Kaz's helpless form. Her hands always gently grazed any surface she incountered, her feet always landing on the tips of her toes, her moves inspiring every ballerina in Kerch, yet now her hands were sliding off roughly and she had to bent her knees to make the landing silent. Her fear of her friend manipulated her body and she almost fell over the edge when the sharp turn of the building made an appearance, luckily she awokened from the feeling and stopped herself.

She was above the meeting place now.

On her right was Y/N with the strange man. Y/N was anxiously pacing around, obviously worried as they all were, even the man next to her who stood still as a pole was taking almost unseeable shuttered breaths. When the girl faced her direction, Inej wanted to warn her of the unexpected turn of events, but she wouldn't be seen anyway. As it turned out though, she also wouldn't have the time to catch her attention in time as the target slowly showed up on her left side, Kaz still in his grasp. Up close she could see the knife he held to his neck, already cut into the flesh. The man on her right stopped breathing and tried to hide his widened eyes, Rollins smirked as he saw him, shaking his head in disbelief. But the tension really sparked up when Y/N finally saw them, her eyes instantly digging into Kaz, while his were already screaming at her. Only two words bound them all together as they appeared on every present mind.

Oh fuck.

---------------------------------------------

Silence started perhaps being uncomfortable for Deln, yet Y/N only cared about the boy 5 meters in front of her. He wore blood, a lot of blood. His face showed bruises for every Barrel rat and every drop of blood that fell next to his feet tore a piece of her heart. But the worst thing was his expression, it was no longer hateful, nor angry. His eyes sinked into her and they washed her with almost a relief-like feeling, like he was happy to see her, or maybe upset to see her here, in a dangerous street that will be painted red by more than one person. His gaze was soft, almost pleading her to either run away or get closer to him.

He was worried.

"I told you to come alone if my memory is still serving right." Deln began the conversation, dragging both of their attention to him. He earned a chuckle from Rollins and a response as he squeezed Kaz's neck, straightening him up: "Well, I thought I might get the lovebirds back together, eh?" The knife retreated back to his pocket, revealing a red line on the boy's neck. Y/N allowed herself to let one tear roll down her cheek as an apology to him. Pekka must have kidnapped him, because there was no other explanation on why was he present. Deln was confused, he didn't know Dirtyhands as far as she knew, nor about her time with Hertzoon. "Aw, look at 'em, already pining for each other." Rollins mocked and pushed Kaz off of his hand. Y/N had a hard time keeping it together.

Deln sighed annoyingly and the hitman was glad he kept the plan on track. It was hard to admit he was actually a big help to her. "Whatever, let's talk business shall we? It's cold tonight. Don't wanna be out late." he said offered and Rollins laughed in his face again: "What, gotta read the slaves a goodnight story?" If she wasn't still in shock from Kaz, the plan would skip to the killing part very quickly. "Well, not anymore since you took 'em all away, didn't you." the slaver stated and wiped the smile off of Pekka's face quickly. Y/N had to admit he played the role she made for him perfectly and let the conversation rest in his hands, as she continued to worry silently about the bloodied boy.

The Dime Lions' leader seemed to get upset about Deln's forwardness, he probably thought he could talk his way out of it with his disturbing charm. He put his hands on his hips and shrugged. "It ain't my problem you keep 'em in a dirty warehouse. I offered them a room with a comfortable bed and good money if they were willing to smile. That ain't no crime, lad."

"I'm not interested in your architectural opinion on my slave-keeping. I am upset you stole my property." Y/N was very invested in the conversation she almost forgot her role was against Deln. Her tied hands turned him to her side by the shoulder and pierced him with her eyes. "Don't speak of them like that." she warned and he simpy scoffed her off. It wasn't much, she must admit, but it was enough to voice her stand in this matter. "HA! And what do you think you'll be after we're done here? You will be lucky if I allow you to work in my brothel." the last sentence was a warning, he could be so much cruel to her, like he was in his house. She was present finally, all worry stepped aside to make space for the anger she held and the focus she held earlier tonight sat back down on her mind.

"You won't touch her."

Ready to speak, Y/N was taken aback by his raspy voice with scary undertone. He spoke to her like that, not long ago. It was almost unreal he was defending her. As much as it brought shivers down her body, Rollins was unfazed by the threat. "You can barely stand, boy. What can you possibly do to me." he stated the obvious and continued once he looked her way again. "Besides, she really isn't worthy of your protection." He put one foot in front of the other slowly, walking over to her. She was on alert, if she had the opportunity, she wouldn't wait anymore and strangle him with her tired hands and her desire to dig his grave. He stopped few steps from her and reached into his pocket again, pulling out something else than a knife this time. "Lost this?"

A thin, almost not visible in the dark, black string was held between his fingers. The bracelet she lost. The one Kaz gave her on the last day they saw each other. She lost it in Rollins' office. Her temptation to reach for it was unseen by Y/N as her first instinct was to look at Kaz, who also drowned in the vision of the string. She broke her promise, a childish one, sure, but it destroyed her still. It always served as a reminder of her failure. How she failed to warn him and Jordie, how she wrapped his heart around her finger without knowing it and allowed Hertzoon to shatter it. The girl promised herself to not mess up this promise, at least one thing she could keep. In the end, she lost it too.

How does she deserve to live after destroying all good in her life?

"Yeah, cruel isn't she? Do you really think she cares about you, or anyone for that matter?" he talked to Kaz that was still mesmerized by the sight in Rollins' hand. Deln was silently watching the scene, the situation out of his hands now, the plan off of track. "You don't know anything about her, boy-". " You're wrong." she interrupted him. He turned to her, waiting to elaborate, the string still lifted between his fingers as if he was trying to hypnotize them. "I told him everything." Y/N continued as she silently wished with the last bit of hope he would take the bait. He didn't:

"Everything, eh?" he echoed as he turned his back on her and focused on Kaz fully. As he reached his personal space, his hand streched to him, giving him the bracelet. The boy fixated on it, swaying with the wind due to his trouble standing on the one good leg for this long. Rollins watched him closely, feeling Kaz's hand taking it almost immediately. When his coffee-like eyes reached his snake ones, Pekka uncovered Y/N's lie:

"Do you remember Ms. Hertzoon?"

---------------------------------------------------------

"...You what?"

"Don't you dare be offended, you manipulated her and then left us. You're as bad as I am."

That made them punch her strongly in the stomach. Funny, Rollins wanted to watch her suffer, but was too lazy to torture her himself. They were on this for 2 hours now, or she at least thought so, she couldn't tell if the ringing was only in her ears. Rollins had her sit on a chair and then asked questions. The first were stupid and simple, almost like a small talk: Did she rob him, why is she back, when did she get back, etc. She earned 5 different punches in this round. Then the latter began. They wanted to know what happened after the con trick- as he called it- which resulted in her split lip and first blood drawn. Then another small talk, remembering all their time together and then, the truth. "Where is your mother?" it began and ended in countless of other painful things she couldn't be bothered to remember.

"How." he almost whispered, it was so dramatic that Y/N would laugh if she wasn't wheezing with every breath. "Oh, please. Like you care." she fully expected the hit for that one, though it still hurt like hell. "How!" he ordered her and watched her grow a grin with her painted-red mouth. She could still feel the little gun in her little hand, standing at the foot of her mother's bed. She watched her sleep for a moment before she truly aimed. Haltt was right, it did get back her reputation. He gave her the money and she counted every single coin to make sure it really was doubled. Fortunately, he was an honest man.

"One bullet was all it took."

To say she regretted it would be a lie, the biggest one in history maybe. She second-guessed it on her way home, sure, but she more doubted Haltt's promise than her actions. However, once she really saw her mother's chest rise and fall, nothing was easier than to pull the trigger. If she was a monster in her eyes, she would become one in her memory.

"YOU FUCKING BITCH!" was the last thing she heard from him, then her ears were filled with ringing and also pain when her nerves couldn't take it anymore. Everything went dark after a while, she was sure she couldn't breath and her eyes zipped themselves tightly, but even though she lost consciousness, she was sure she never stopped smiling while it lasted.

-----------------------------------------------

He always suspected some part of her story was left out, it would be unwise to tell him everything and she was not stupid. While Kaz did predict that something happened with the mother, he didn't expect this. He answered her eyes as they asked for connection and tried to assure them of his unchanged opinion. So what? He also done horrible things, they all have, especially Rollins. Such a hypocrite, that man. When he finished re-telling the story of Y/N's torture, he retreated from the boy's space, fortunately for him, because Kaz would have no hesitation in twisting Pekka's neck. Everything was silent for a while, the wind whispered cold around them as they all studied each other. Kaz looked at the building's roof next to them, seeing only darkness, but feeling her presence. He hoped that whatever Y/N planned to do with Inej would be useful. And what did he know, maybe this situation is going extremely well for them.

"Well, that is truly shocking, but unfortunetely, Y/N's dead mom won't solve this conflict. So let's solve it ourselves, shall we?" The slaver spoke and grabbed the girl next to him by the bicep, dragging her with him closer to Rollins. Kaz took a small, unnecessary step forward as a move to help her. Seeing Deln's hand on her made the water rise around him, he could feel her discomfort and felt it himself. They stopped and he threw the girl in front of him lightly, so she wouldn't fall, but aggressively enough, so she would sway. "Pay me for the slaves and she's yours, as promised." the boy's fist turned white at that, wishing he could hang Deln's organs at the lamppost. "Hmmm" groaned Rollins in thinking. "How much do ya want?"

"3000 kruge."

"Pardon?"

Deln rolled his eyes. "It was 100 slaves you stole from me, every slave is expensive and believe me, I'm giving you a discount right now." Rollins nodded at his explanation. At this point, Kaz thought about getting out of there. He was being ignored and would be forgotten in a while. Rollins couldn't see him, Deln could, but he doubted he would care. However, she could too, and his heart radiated an unfamiliar feeling at the thought of dissapearing without Y/N. If this situation happened with anyone else, he'd be already at the Slat, drinking shots and drowning in silence of his room. Dirtyhands planned the escape, Kaz refused to go through with it. He refused to leave her. "Alright, alright. How about this." Rollins spoke his thoughts. "I'll give you half of what they make me from now on and if you ever wander in the Sweet Shop, you won't have to pay." Deln was silent, but he was clearly concidering it.

"Huh? Sounds good?" Smiling Pekka streched out his hand and waited for a handshake. Every set of eyes watched Deln's movement, from his step closer, closer to Rollins, closer to Y/N, until he squeezed Pekka's hand, reflecting his expression. "That's a deal, then." said the robber. "Deal." said the slaver. Kaz didn't know what that meant and from the girl's face, he could tell the confusion was shared. Although, he truly realized this wasn't part of their plan after Deln quickly reached for Y/N's belt with the same hand that just closed a deal, pulling out a small gun, one that could barely fit a bullet, and aiming it at the hitman. She was frightened, taking steps back, but she didn't got very far when Deln grabbed her by the collar, holding her close to his body.

"Like mother like daughter."

He was instantly on the move, as fast as he could, trying to prevent what was about to happen. The bullet was faster though. Before hearing the gunshot, they heard Deln's scream. Y/N felt to the ground and Kaz was at her side immediately. His eyes panicking, trying to find the wound while his heart sounded the alarms and awakened fear. Not like this. He couldn't lose her like this. He soon found the gunshot and without thinking threw his hands to press it down. They never made contact with it, Rollins' knife already found its way back to his neck, pulling him away from her. "You didn't think I forgot about you, did ya?" he laughed in his ear before Kaz threw his head back, hitting him in the nose. The grip got loose and he turned around, sending his anger and frustration in his fist. Rollins tumbled and he kicked him on the ground, getting him closer to the place he belongs.

Deln moaned in pain and the boy finally saw the reason. Below his bent over form, a puddle of blood formed and in it swam his thumb, right above Sankt Petyr. The corners of his mouth lifted a bit, he couldn't remember how did he survive all this time without Inej watching over him and the crows, it made him grateful she is back for now. His eyes were set to find Y/N again, but he only saw a red trace from where she laid. She must've gotten away. Good girl.

He couldn't follow her steps, because Rollins already got up from the cobblestones, ready to strike. He breathed heavily, supporting the place Kaz kicked him in with his hand. He couldn't understand why Rollins always came back into his life. He tried to avoid him all his time in Ketterdam, yet life always brought them together. Or death, he wasn't sure, maybe they were destined to destroy each other. Pekka Rollins was like a mosquito bite: itching to be noticed and when Kaz does so, he feels a brief satisfaction before the itch comes back and is worse than before. He was also as annoying. It needed to be finished right here and tonight

The boy braced himself and waited on the mosquito's move, straightening himself. Little did he know, the shadow from above already closed in on the man. Kaz watched as she kicked his knee from the back and caught his hair, stopping him from falling fully on the ground again. Sankta Lizabeta could be soon visible above his heart, the tip waiting to be pushed in. Only then, Dirtyhands quietly sighed in relief.

"He still can't do it without ya, huh? Tell me boy, when will you start being a man and do things on your own?" Rollins mocked them as he recognized the face, which currently held the future of his heartbeat. Kaz limped slowly closer, feeling Inej's eyes on him. He lowered his head once he entered Pekka's personal space dangerously deep. "When my brother will get his revenge in hell."

As soon as the menacing words reached Rollins, his lips twitched up at the sight of Sankta Lizabeta slowly painting an imaginery outline of the man's heart, being applauded by his blood-curling scream. Inej wasn't the one for torture, but he could see the bit of joy in her eyes and the relief on her face. She deserved to be the one that would free Ketterdam from this parasite and he let her have it, already searching for the bloody trail Y/N left behind.

His eyes alerted him when they caught it and he began to follow the path, slowly, limping as Deln's whines cheered him on.

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The stars were with her, sometimes changing their position or widening in her eyes as they waited to claim her. Salty waterdrops tapped her tired legs, reminding her of where she sat. She imagined death many times, it wasn't unusual for someone in her profession. She remembered Tim talking about the peace that comes with it, saying it is kind, so it would be easier for the soul to leave the body. For her, it was obvious. Everything would be kinder than life. However, nothing could prepare her for the last moments. Y/N realized that no matter how much you imagine it, it will always surprise you. The knowing that this is the last time she is going to exist in wasn't something her brain could comprehend. Maybe that was the mystery death held, that was the fuel for the fear in others, not understanding until it was too late.

Wind played softly with her hair while it kissed the bruises of her now untied hands, and she tried hard to feel everything at the same time. The clothes touching her skin, the numbness in her feet, her shaky breath as it entered and left her system, but mostly, she tried to memorize the pain in her stomache and the bullet inside her body. It was an intense feeling, so she wanted to feel it as much as possible, before it would fade and with it her heart.

The hitman got hit.

This is how her victims probably felt. She brought this feeling to numerous lives. Her mother felt this way too. Y/N couldn't decide if dying felt good or disgusting, but she could be certain it was lonely. Even if people surrounded her, it wouldn't be better. It was an experience for her soul, no one from the outside could empathize.

She wondered where her grave would lay as the slow footsteps got closer. Y/N heard him limp next to her and it seemed like the stars noticed him too, because they stopped moving once he sat down, as though they only wanted to be seen by her. He was visibly tired, still bleeding from his neck.

Maybe he was feeling the final presence too.

Maybe her starts would take them both.

Silence and the waves crashing made the space between them comfortable, maybe too comfortable for her liking. His breath was disrupting hers as it naturally tried to match the rhythm. The moment became so peaceful, she almost forgot about their history. It felt like nothing happened between them, they were just kids, sitting by the port, watching stars and listening to the ocean. They weren't Dirtyhands and Saskia. They weren't the Bastard of the Barell and Snowflake.

They were Y/N and Kaz. As they were always meant to be.

"Do you believe in faith?"

It felt like yesterday since he asked her that question. Every shared memory of them felt so close to her now, as if time was all messed up. Maybe death was already doing its job. Kaz was taking his time with the answer, breathing heavily, as if the air had to fill his words first before she could hear them.

"Yes...I do."

He exhaled, his low empty voice responding. Her lips lifted into a messy smile, her muscles were losing their power all over her body, but that didn't stop her from reaching into her coat and pulling out a folded, bloodied paper that her fingers swiftly grabbed from her slaver's back pocket before he could shoot her. It was almost bizzare, how a small, easily rippable piece made her revisit the demons of the past. She wondered if Deln wanted this all along. Maybe he wanted Rollins to kill her, so he could make his deal with him. Or maybe it was just faith, wanting to see how far she would go for a false sense of freedom.

"It doesn't mean anything." Y/N stated as she felt Kaz looking at the release paper. "I just needed proof that I'm not under anyone's influence anymore, but..." her eyes followed the ongoing waves. They looked like on a leash, as if someone released them, so they could explode onto the harbor's walls, only to pull them back again shortly after, reminding them they were still being controlled. It seemed torturous, humiliating. It looked like her. "...I will never be free of him."

Y/N couldn't look at the boy, even if his burning gaze could only be extinguished by an eye contact. He was right, she was a monster. She could see it now and she wouldn't hide from this fact. She would accept herself before her heart would stop singing. It was the least she could do with the very limited time, coming to terms with her own self.

The stars started moving again slowly as Kaz spoke: "He can't control you anymore..." His tone showed certainty. Inej had to claim her souvenir of revenge by now, but he still managed to squeeze out a scoff from the hitman. She couldn't believe he allowed himself to be so naïve. Rainbow won't repair the damage done by storm, same as killing Pekka Rollins won't erase his actions and the following conciquences. His influence made her do things beyond his leadership. It scarred her for life, and those scars bled onto others without the possibility to heal. She bled on him too. She killed his brother for fuck's sake.

"The things he caused precedes him." Y/N finally looked at Kaz, his eyes seemed to be glowing in her hallucinating mind. "I can't be changed." She whispered, knowing he would hear every single letter. The moon illuminated him perfectly. His features casted a soft look under its light and Y/N was glad this would be the appearence of him she would take to her grave. She was happy to become one of the stars that would continue to shine on him.

Suddenly, death seemed very pretty.

The girl saw his hand on hers before she could feel it. It was weirdly warm, even though he barely touched her. His eyes demanded her ears' attention as he spoke, slowly, so she could feel the words. "You don't need to be changed."

Her mind was confused. How could he even speak such things?

"I am a killer." she reminded him.

"Not by choice." he argued.

"I killed my own mother and enjoyed it." she was restless in making him hate her.

"Your mother's conciquences of her own actions." he dodged her attempt.

"I killed your brother." was when she knew she would win. It wasn't excusable. Nothing could possibly erase this from Kaz's mind, no apology was enough, she was certain. That was the reason she couldn't understand why Kaz's hand began to hold hers more tightly as his eyes studied the wound in her stomache, covered by her arm that desperately tried to prevent the blood from pouring out, but it became more and more hopeless. "You're dying and not doing anything about it." he aknowleged. Y/N smiled briefly, from pain and also from his slow understanding of her plan.

"I deserve it." she spoke weakly, every word felt heavy on her tongue and she was about to give in to their weight. He only observed her, as her body was slowly losing the ability to move, as her energy was being sipped by the waves below. It suddenly felt a bit scary for her, she was in the process of dying and it strangely ignited the last bit of her will to live.

Kaz did nothing, he only asked: "Why?" She looked at him, her eyes shooting fear. She guessed she would engage with every emotion before turning off. Maybe the nature granted this privilege to every person, so they would get to have the proper goodbye to their body.

"I never done anything good, I only brought pain." her lips responded, making Kaz nod slowly. Y/N gasped softly as the fear intensified. This feeling was unlike any before, like her life was slowly slipping through her body, through the wound. Her arm pressed tightly, as much as she could to slow down the inevitable, but it was too late. "Maybe it's time to change that." Kaz spoke. She wouldn't be able to change her ways if she died, the only thing she would remember about this life was how she made it difficult for everyone else.

Y/N sighed, death was almost touching her, heart was losing its music. She no longer felt the waterdrops on her legs and the stars dimmed their light. "It's too late."

The port beneath her began to sway, as if it would tip over to the ocean anytime. She gripped the concrete edge, slipping her hand from Kaz's to do so, trying to stop it from moving, only for it to sway more. She picked her eyes up at the sky, seeing only her five stars in the black treacle sky, as her body pushed closer to the waves.

Death awaited her.

Like those waves, Y/N was suddenly pulled back by someone's hands, feeling her body lift up from the port, supported in the air. Her form bounced with every other step and another warm breath kept mixing with hers. She imagined those arms were of an angel, bringing her to heaven. Or a devil, bringing her to hell. She gave into its touch nonetheless.

"I know you're not very good at keeping them, but would you promise me one last thing?" a voice asked her, a low and a tired one. One that could only belong to an angel the way it kept her dying heart beating. The girl could only hum, agreeing to the angel's request. The voice sounded serious, threatening almost, but she could hear the worry hidden behind it, as it spoke.

"Don't make me lose you."

---------------------------------------------------

Nina whined, having trouble with breathing as her hands shook from the need to be put down. She saved the Dregs numerous times from a certain death, yet Y/N exceeded her expectations. The heartender tried her very best to wake her heart up, while Jesper and Wylan panicked to pull out the bullet and seize the wound, so no more blood would be lost. What wasn't helpful, though, was Brekker, constantly yelling at them for trying harder. She understood that his anger was powered by the fear for that girl, but that didn't put out the urge to fill his face with more wounds, maybe a broken nose even.

"I swear, Nina. If she dies.." he exclaimed again, not helping the situation in any way.

"It will be on you!" Nina barked at him, frustration clearly visible not only on her tone, but her tired features. Her eyes shot to Jesper and Wylan an apologizing look as she saw their hands bloodied and faces worried. The door swinged open behind her, revealing Inej. Nina felt relief wash over her as she saw her. Kaz would maybe stop being such an asshole in her presence.

"Is she breathing?" Inej asked and immediately moved to Y/N's lying form, putting her cheek above her nose. "Barely." Wylan answered stressfully. Kaz's worry shifted to fear, Nina could sense that, even when her full focus was on the hitman's weak heart. She was barely alive, but the heartender was still surprised it could beat. She was strong and Nina hoped she would continue to fight.

Jesper gasped heavily and looked at her. "The wound's sealed!" he sounded so hopeful and it brought Nina some strenght to see him like this. She had to take quick breaths before tightening her hands in the air one more time, fastening Y/N's heartbeat. Fortunetely, it worked. "She's breathing again!" Inej said with a small smile, causing Kaz to limp closer to see for himself. His own wounds weren't yet treated, but Nina didn't even try to convince him. He had trouble looking after himself when one of them was hurt, she could imagine how much worse it was in this case, where his heartbeat's fire was on the brink of death.

She could feel the heartbeat pick up to a slow pace. It wasn't yet normal, but at least she didn't have to control it now. Nina put her hands down and fell down on an armchair beside her. Everyone in the room fell victims to exhaustion, Nina closed her eyes for a moment, just focusing on her breathing. Wylan was the first to stand up and slowly make his way out of the room with the words she'll be alright, Nina, you did a great job. Jesper followed, squeezing Nina's shoulder and nodding shortly at Kaz, before the door closed after him too.

"You either let me treat your wounds or you will go and get some sleep." she offered to the man, her eyes fixated on Y/N. She was glad he, at least, wrapped his neck in a bandage during this hard time, but he had other quite serious wounds she had to treat sooner or later. Kaz allowed himself to be predictable as he stared at the hitman and then slowly limped out of the room. Before he did though, he surprised her after all.

"Thank you."

Nina's head snapped his way and watched him leave, she didn't expect that. Inej sat next to her on the armrest, following her eyes to the laying girl. "You should rest as well, I know how tired you are." the heartender studied her features with a caring look. Her friend fought the sleep well so far, which she hated to see. "I'm not leaving you alone." the spider said with a decisive eyes connecting with hers. She knew the heartender couldn't sleep herself, as she had to look out for Y/N's heart. Nina flashed a defeated smile. She was grateful for her presence, she missed her a lot, but it would ease her mind if she went to sleep. However, knowing her stubborn mind, she scooted over to the very side, creating a tiny space for Inej to sit, which her friend accepted with a smile.

"Alright then. Tell me how you killed Rollins and DON'T spare any details."

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cinnamonest · 1 year

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more thoughts on feral animal hybrid darlings please Lena 🥺 the wild fox darling with tighnari was so cute… I was imagining a scenario with Childe or Kazuha plucking hybrid darling out of the woods to take on their travels 🫣

I love writing these man, I don't normally do fluffy cutesy things but these are so soft and good for my soul, yet the "naive and unable to fully consent/easily manipulated" part gives it just enough of a dark touch so I don't combust into flames while making it. Writing hybrid posts is like eating warm soup on a cold day, it makes me feel warm and fuzzy, maybe I do have a soul after all

I actually would like to redo the boys in the original hybrid post, the very first one I did was so short I'd like to go back and make longer entries... So I'll start maybe doing that little by little.

I did do a wild girl one for Kazuha a while back in (the last hybrid post) (love our snek girl, our nope rope, our danger noodle) but for now I am redoing Childe and adding Itto, Dainsleif and Dottore (as this was requested by an ask I answered a bit ago), and a lengthy (entirely skippable so feel free to ignore it) rambling on lore at the beginning! >:3

//Basically enslavement of creatures, trafficking mentions, very naive hybrids, also needles for Dottore's

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In terms of worldbuilding, there's varying social perceptions on owning various hybrids. People tend to be inclined to think of hybrids similarly to how they'd think of the actual animal to which they share traits with.

For example, hybrids of wild animals are thought to be best left to their own devices by most people. But due to their human features, there's a lot of debate and discourse as to whether or not they should be left alone, as some say they "belong in the wild," and that it's cruel or inhumane to take them out of their natural environments. Whereas on the other end, some would argue that it's best for them to be brought into captivity and kept as pets, seeing as it significantly increases the hybrid's lifespan due to being better protected from danger and more readily able to receive medical care.

But even for those who think they should be kept as pets, that raises the issue of how, for some of them. Some are notoriously aggressive, just like their fully inhuman counterparts. Some require very specific environments and care that is very expensive to emulate in captivity, and thus end up only being owned by wealthier individuals who like to show off owning exotic pets (unless someone who probably shouldn't have one and can't afford this special care keeps one anyway, in which case it may become a legal issue). Reptiles, for example, should only be kept in warm climates, although some resolve this by keeping their houses artificially warmed. There are large-sized red lamps available for reptilians as well.

Thus, different nations actually have different regulations on the matter. Some have laws prohibiting the ownership of certain types of hybrids that are considered to be "wild animals," deeming it akin to animal cruelty to take them out of their homes in nature. Some outlaw the ownership of hybrids deemed to be too dangerous to be kept in a human community, such as highly venomous snakes and spiders, or aggressive and strong hybrids such as bears or tigers. Several nations also outlaw the ownership of hybrids considered invasive species, who are dangerous to local wildlife, or hybrids who are simply not suited to the local climate and thus becoming deemed cruel to put them in an environment where they're miserable and uncomfortable.

Black markets still exist, though, for those people who just can't get over the thought of how neat it would be to own an "exotic" pet. Much like a normal universe with normal animals, these people tend to be young males in their teens or 20s who think it's cool or edgy since it's dangerous and illegal, and something they can show off. As you can imagine, this doesn't go over well with law enforcement. However, sometimes they then have to deal with the issue of it being harmful to the hybrid's mental health to take them away from their owner, so exceptions are made as long as they remain subject to regular check-ins... thus, illegal ownership can essentially be excused, and a lot of guys take the chance.

Hybrids, however, are held to a higher standard of care due to their human likeness. Whereas it would be considered acceptable in some climates to have an exclusively outdoor dog or cat (the actual animal, not hybrids), in most places it's illegal to leave hybrids outside for extended periods of time, especially overnight, and especially in particularly hot or cold climates. Hybrid neglect is a crime that carries high penalties, so it's very rare to see this actually occur, and is usually dealt with swiftly when concerned neighbors alert authorities.

Neglected or abused hybrids will be taken into custody of said authorities, and then placed into specifically designated shelters that re-home them, much like animals. It runs the same way it would for regular domestic pets as well -- people can come in, look around, pick one and leave, but only after signing a bunch of papers and performing background checks and the like. Hybrids can be expensive, considerably more so than pet animals. This, however, does help ensure that they go to good people who intend to take good care of them.

Obviously, due to their humanoid nature, hybrids are fetishized, lusted after and frequently taken as partners. It's not necessarily for everyone. Much like any kink or fetish, there will be some guys who are foaming at the mouth at the mere mention of it, and some guys who shrug and say they don't really see the appeal at all.

There's also an attitude held by some that it's kind of pathetic, you'll hear some guys mocking or teasing friends who have one -- couldn't get a normal girl to date you? It's viewed similarly to how a guy who isn't very successful with girls might hire escorts or buy a sex doll or the like.

The legality of hybrid partnership, however, is... messy. The argument against it is a moral issue. Sex slavery, purchasing spouses, and forced marriage are all illegal. How is purchasing a pet to be some kind of fleshlight-spouse any different? Hybrids are loyal by nature, they could also hypothetically be emotionally manipulated this way too.

Likewise, there's moral qualms about their nature as well, regarding the hybrid capacity for consent. Many hybrids are low IQ and highly manipulable and gullible in general, so some people take issue with it. That's not even taking into account the ones that can't speak, and especially the ones that can't understand human speech too.

However, due to overwhelming populace demand, it remains generally legal. In most nations, the final ruling is that partnership and physical relations are legal, but most places do not legally marry the two. Also, this is influenced by the fact that it's simply such a common and widespread thing to have hybrid partners by the era that their rights even come into question, means that outlawing it would be stripping thousands of hybrids from their owners and tearing long-lasting unions apart, which would be emotionally detrimental to the hybrids themselves. Basically, the consensus is simply: is it manipulating the hybrid's good, loyal nature and low IQ? Yes. But is it better than the emotional distress it would cause them to be removed from their owner? Also yes.

Thus, you need money and legal verification, and in many places, you need to register a hybrid for money. In some nations, it's perfectly legal to just bring in a hybrid you find out on the street and take them in, and in some nations it's not, and you need registration through local government establishments. This can also be species-dependent -- there's a pretty stark difference in how it would be seen as wholesome and kind to take in some poor dog or cat abandoned in the street, but frowned upon and potentially seen as a wrongdoing to drag in some wild creature you find on a hike.

Discourse also exists on black market exotic hybrid trappers, people who set traps to catch wild, non-domesticated hybrids that may often hurt the hybrid in the process. Traps like bear traps are gradually outlawed, so wire/rope net traps and cage traps are more common, but this still bothers a lot of people to think of the distress it causes.

Perhaps it feels a little cruel even to trappers themselves -- the poor things are obviously terrified when they come check the traps. Some are angrier, lashing out in an attempt to bite and scratch, others have a more human-like reaction, just huddling at the back of the cage or curling up in the net, sniffling and trembling with tears on their face. Usually they're scraped up or have rope burns from desperate attempts to escape, so that has to be dealt with too.

Wild hybrids don't speak, so unfortunately there's no way to communicate to them that they're not going to be killed and eaten. After a few hours, they stop crying so much, but they're still visibly afraid and make some rather pitiful noises. There's often issues with getting them to eat and drink, as they're wary of anything presented to them. Usually they simply get so hungry they're willing to eat food they're given, despite their caution, and realize it won't harm them. The general public isn't aware of how distressing this whole process is... probably for the better.

Other laws exist regarding what is cruel or humane, and the attitudes regarding this vary a lot depending on the general nation's consensus, and sometimes simply depending on who you're talking to.

Is it cruel to clip bird hybrid wings? To dock certain breeds' tails? Is it fair to require doggirls with a history of biting to be muzzled in public? If a hybrid vet isn't available, is it reasonable to take a hybrid to a human medical facility in the case of an emergency? Should it be required to keep them in portable crates on transportation such as trains? Should they have to be kept on leashes in public areas? Should venomous reptiles be allowed in public at all?

Similarly, some people have different ideas on what is appropriate regarding them depending on whether or not the individual being asked sees them as "animals with human characteristics," or "humans with animal characteristics." Every individual leans towards one view or the other. The former is more likely to see them as lessers, while the latter may question the morality of keeping them so subservient and controlled, even if they do depend on humans a lot.

Some people will also have negative perceptions of others based on what they own, and communities may set rules for specific individuals with their pets. Someone in the neighborhood thought it was a bright idea to own a raccoon girl, who has since terrorized the neighbors by sneaking out at night to rummage through trash -- and due to human weight and size, knocking plenty of bins over and all over the ground in the process. Now, although that one is permitted to stay, the local city board makes a rule against hybrids of non-domesticated animals. Similarly, even in nations where it's generally legal, specific areas with high populations of families and children may make regulations against aggressive or venomous species.

And finally, when dealing with the most intelligent of creatures, there is an issue of hybrid rights to be addressed.

Rarely, a few abnormal hybrids possess full human intellect. It's a case-by-case sort of thing, but most of the time, if they can prove this, they will eventually be granted full, normal rights. They usually prove themselves, and go on to live normal lives (some become war generals and botanists for example!). However, these are abnormalities, and hybrids are assumed to be "normal" (low intelligence) by default.

Hybrid intellect can vary greatly from one species to the next, and this has sparked a lot of discussion as to whether or not some hybrids should be regarded as deserving the same rights as a person.

At the Sumeru Akademiya in particular, there have been studies over the years that have produced a citable average IQ for different species, as well as other matters related to intellect and stability. They test things like short term memory, ability to solve different puzzles of different difficulty levels, ability to follow logical thought processes, and so on. They also test for dependency, trying to determine to what degree the hybrid depends on the owner to go about its daily life.

The speech capacity is obviously dependent on exposure -- wild animals have no speech capacity, dogs and cats can usually speak fluently, and others like cows and goats, as well as street-dwellers like raccoons or rats, etc have moderate speech capacities. Wild animals can be captured and taught to some extent, but it works similar to real-life cases of feral humans: their brains are fully developed and no longer have the elasticity to fully master language, so at most, they will learn some words and phrases, but never speak in full capacity. A lot of such hybrids may learn words like their master's name, words like "hungry" or "water" or "sleepy" to indicate their needs, names of others, times of day, a few common sentences, and other words like "yes/no", "please," "sorry," etc. They also will often pick up on the name assigned to them, but have a pattern of referring to themselves in third person using this name, rather than the use of "I."

Cats, for example, are very high on the list. Foxes and dogs were slightly below them, but still rather high. Dogs in particular showed high levels of dependency -- despite being rather intelligent, they often would interrupt the observing researchers performing the test to ask when they could go home, see their master and so on.

Bovines, sheep and pigs, however, are significantly lower, as were small mammal species. These were found to be incapable of solving complex puzzles, took more time to solve simple ones, struggled with short term memory, and many showed signs of high levels of distress as soon as they were taken to a separate room where they couldn't see their owner (who was watching, they allowed that, through one of those one-way glass panels on the side). The results for those were actually partially inconclusive, because they quickly learned that hybrids of these types would quickly become overwhelmed and confused by the task or puzzle before them and would start to whimper and tear up, shaking their heads and squeezing their eyes shut and stubbornly nn-mm!-ing when prompted to continue, refusing to carry on anymore and, thus proving the dependency aspect, start crying for their masters. They weren't so cruel as to deny them that, so they allowed them to quit early and be returned to the comfort of the familiarity of their owners -- to whom they would usually scamper over to as fast as possible.

On the bright side, the intelligent ones very quickly were able to, and all of them eventually able to, successfully complete the "put the shaped wooden blocks through the correct shape hole" test, which was the most basic one. However, the issues began when they reached numerical problems -- "if you have five and give two away, how many do you have left?" was mostly answered right (they were allowed to use their fingers to figure it out, which helped), but multiplication and division based problems were when some subspecies really began to struggle.

This leaves a bit of an ethical dilemma. The intellect varies so much that it seems unsafe to give the less intelligent ones rights, for the sake of their own well-being, whereas for more intelligent ones it seems cruel to deny them rights. And then the question becomes, where should the line be drawn?

The ultimate decision is that, for the sake of the more vulnerable ones, it's for the best to just make a sweeping judgement for their safety, even if it mean subjecting intelligent hybrids to subservience. So outside of the exceptions of highly intelligent individuals, the average species intelligence doesn't really matter, they'll just be subject to ownership anyway.

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Childe - beargirl

Whenever Ajax makes a trip back home, people often ask him to do all sorts of stuff. Can he fix this or that, fight off these bandits that are harassing a housing cluster, so on and so on. He was always running around doing tasks for locals in his tween years, and it just kind of stuck. Plus, due to being strong, a lot of the elderly in particular ask him out to help them with this or that.

Maybe it makes him feel a little used sometimes, but he likes to help, even if the matter is trivial.

On this most recent venture, according to the neighbors that approach him as soon as he sets foot in his hometown (after at least a brief hello how are you sort of thing, so they have some semblance of politeness), the matter is supposedly a menace of an animal stealing large amounts of fish out of fishery storages. Fishermen come in with their nets, dump a large amount into a vat, leave to get the next batch... only recently, to come back to a near-empty storage unit. Whatever it is, it's eating enough fish to feed an entire family.

But are you to be blamed? They're the ones dumb enough to just leave it all sitting there, unguarded, so you think. If they didn't want their fish eaten, they shouldn't have left it so easy to access. And if the humans really needed it, they would guard it better, so they must not really need it. And you leave some for them, too, you only eat a little over half to make sure they still have enough for themselves.

You still memorize their schedule, though, preferring to avoid direct confrontation, making sure you know around what time they'll be gone so you can come in undetected. Thus, it catches you off-guard when a human nonetheless enters the storage unit as you're chomping down mid-meal.

There's a few moments of quiet that pass as you both look each other up and down. You stare up at him. He looks down at you, where you sit on the ground, half a fish sticking out of your mouth. Round ears, a short little stump of a tail. You make a rough throaty noise.

It's adorable. Granted, this man would probably be able to pet an actual bear without a modicum of fear, but especially seeing as you're human-sized, it's even cuter. After a brief moment of wide-eyed surprise, you see a smirk of amusement form on his face.

It feels mocking. You glare. Your eyebrows furrow and your nose scrunches up, you stomp your way to stand up on your hind legs (or, as humans call them... legs), stretch your arms out for maximum intimidation, and ferociously growl.

He... puts his hand over his mouth, chortling, barely holding back laughter. You don't understand it, but he says something to you, before reaching out, patting the palm of his hand to the top of your head.

Your face suddenly feels very hot. That growl scares off all the small animals! Why is the human not afraid? You will be forced to engage in aggression to get him to go away, lest he try to steal from you. Summoning you maximum strength, growling still, you stomp forward, swinging your hand to thwack him in the side of the head.

But he catches your hand. Hold you firmly, shoves you down. You struggle against the human, but in a few seconds flat, he has you pinned to the ground, growling and snarling at him. A very strong human indeed. It does frighten you, but you're fairly certain humans don't eat creatures like yourself, right? You struggle and you squirm, you writhe and thrash, but soon the human has you all bound up, slinging you up over his shoulder and carrying you off as you growl and huff, a smile on his face. At least that's that taken care of. Who would have thought he'd get so lucky?

The problem is taken care of, sure, but if he just put you out in the woods, you'd just come right back. Normally, this would pose a very difficult-to-solve problem, but as he carries you back to the edge of the forest, he starts to think about this issue, and comes up with an alternate solution. Why not just... keep you? Yeah, that seems like a good idea. Why not? You're so cute, you'll make a great pet!

Of course, he knows people won't really take well to the thought of him keeping a whole bear. Some people will question the morality of the harbinger's actions. It's a wild animal, after all, is it really okay for him to take you away from your natural habitat like this?

However, the vast majority are more concerned with it being... you know, aggressive, strong, incapable of understanding speech, prone to biting and hitting, unfamiliar with human norms and unadjusted to society. But hey, none of that really matters when you have authority to get whatever unreasonable thing you want!

Similarly, some would argue that taking hybrids out of natural environments is unethical when you can't provide them with the food, environment, or temperature they need... but that's not really a problem when you're a high-status, high-power individual who can force a bunch of other people who have no other choice to inconvenience themselves so that you can provide for those needs. He sees no issue there, you can easily have you needs met.

But just look at you, where he has you set on the ground now all tied up, shuffling over to him and viciously gnawing his ankle (unaware you're biting into a boot and not flesh, but making a valiant effort to bite the limb off nonetheless). So cute. How could he just let you go? No, he can work this out. He sets aside the next few hours to go the specifics of his intentions with the first subordinates he comes across, the ones that accompanied him back here. Watching as their eyes go wide, a very uncomfortable look on their faces as they glance over at the growling creature he has in his arms, leaning back to avoid how you chomp your jaws down, craning your neck forward in an attempt to bite them.

One of them is daring enough to voice the obvious concern -- sir, maybe it would be best to let this one go and get something less... wild... and dangerous...?

Huh? Dangerous? Nah, she's just play-biting. She won't hurt anybody, see? He sits you upright, sits behind you, squishes your face in his hands. She's a softie, she's not really mean. You snarl and attempt to bite his hands as he speaks.

Besides, he adds, you'll live a much better life in captivity! You'll be happier and healthier. He's doing a good thing, really, an act of goodwill and compassion for this poor, poor creature. So, while he finishes up all the things he needed to get done on this trip home, he has them go ahead and carry you back to the lodgings to be taken onto the ship when he leaves tomorrow... you do bite directly into a subordinate's ear on the trip. Poor guy ends up with a permanent scar from the whole thing, but at least they got you to un-latch your jaw after several minutes of the guy screaming while they tried to pry your mouth open.

As it turns out, he was right, you're really no trouble at all to have, and keeping you here is a delight! At least, that's what Ajax himself says. The subordinates are less inclined to agree, but they do so verbally, at least.

You have to try to wear the clothes. You don't like them, sure, but it's kind of necessary. Have to start small and gradually make progress, buying a bulk of plain large shirts, gradually training you to not rip them apart via treat rewards for not doing so.

You eat a lot. Like, a lot. He's lucky to be so high in rank, or the Fatui would never agree to cover the costs of your eating needs. It's baffling. If you paid attention to your surroundings (you don't, but just if you did), you would often see the underlings watching you from a distance as you eat with some mix of surprise, bewilderment, and borderline horror as you consume ungodly amounts of food in a matter of seconds.

They have to go to the markets and purchase large amounts of imported fish -- specifically those, as you turn your nose up at local species. It has to be the fish you're familiar with, and yes, you can tell the difference, and yes, you will get angry and violent if you are presented with fish you do not like. You initially turn your nose up to cooked meats too, so they have to go out of their way to procure high quality raw fish and meat. Over time, they manage to get you conditioned and willing to eat cooked fish, so that's at least one small victory for them.

The most desired of treats, however, is raw honeycomb -- made the mistake of giving it to you once, and now you get grouchy when you can't have any, pawing and kneading at your master until you get some (or rather, until subordinates get you some). No, bottled honey is not good and you refuse to eat it, so they quickly discover. Has to have the comb and everything. This is rather expensive to buy, but you know, they have the funds, and if this is what they're commanded to spend it on, so be it... although they do get some odd looks from the poor market vendor when a bunch of guys in recognizable Fatui garb come to purchase everything last piece to be sold. And, of course, someone has to come after you to wipe the floor up after you inevitably spill some on the ground too... calling you a messy eater would be an understatement.

Also, they go to some rather insane extents to keep you cool. They managed to locate a lower rank grunt with a cryo vision, who has now, as per the title given to him by the other grunts who have all sort of group-bully the poor thing about it, become the unfortunate 'bear-sitter' for the harbinger. His job is quite literally to chill down your environment. They've brought in tub-sized containers of water, had them frozen, gotten someone else to crush it up with a hammer and let you -- with a very content expression, seemingly pleased -- rest in it until it melted, and repeated the process. This is not exactly how the poor guy expected the Fatui to make use of his vision, but hey, he's getting paid... at least that what he tells himself.

You're also, ah, kind of aggressive, especially if displeased by being too hot or lack of proper food. They sort of stiffen if they see your presence nearby. Despite being roughly human-sized, you have a lot of strength in those arms, and a good swat to the head will send someone straight into unconsciousness. You are, unfortunately, very aware of your strength, and have no reservations with using it at the slightest of inconveniences or irritation. This has led to a variety of various blunt-force injuries for various underlings. Ajax promises you're getting better with time, and besides, it's just minor stuff that'll heal with time.

However, despite your frequent aggresion, you're not at all unhappy. Sure, sometimes it gets uncomfortably warm, but other than that, you're living like a king!

You have no idea what's going on, but you've accepted it by now.

The humans bring you tray after tray of fish, and you get to lay around all day. Why do they serve you this way? You have no clue. But you're not complaining. Why were you brought out of the wild, why do you sleep in a human bed, what is the point of all these various noises the humans are constantly making with their mouths to each other? Who knows. None of it really matters anyway. You were very oppositional at first, attacked everyone who came near and refused to comply, but you've learned very quickly that this is a major improvement from sleeping outside in caves, drinking river water, having to worry about hunting for yourself. And the many masked humans are the ones serving you, so you have decided that for now, you will spare them, although you may reconsider eating them at a later date.

All you have to do is keep the clothes on your body and not wander off too far from the loud ginger human that brought you here, and as long as you do those things, everything remains tranquil and pleasing to you.

Said human, the one that found you and keeps you by his side, he is very strong. Coming across a human stronger than you was quite shocking, and you have some respect for it. It's why he's the one you don't attack, that you don't bite... at least eventually. You tried to bite him often at first, but he always grabs your jaw and forces it shut, holds your arms still so you can't swat him. No, bad. Bad girl, stop that. Over time, you learn these words mean to cease the behavior, and although you do not like being told what to do, you have little choice. For starters, the human is strong enough to restrain you, and secondly, if you continuously misbehave, he puts you into a large crate for an extended period of time with no snacks and no entertainment. This does give strong incentive to refrain from these behaviors, and you are given toys to chew on anyway, so you just bite those and pretend they are the humans.

But over time, you grow to have a sort of reverence for such strength, so you no longer want to attack him anyway.

More importantly, that means surely, this human is fit to protect you and any potential offspring. If you had to procreate with a human, this one would produce strong cubs. Your brain tells you that strength is good and that this human should be mated with. So for now, you decide to stay by his side and not hurt him.

Unless you're attacking him, though, you can do no wrong. He plays off everything you do like it's no big deal, like it's cute. Oh, you just slammed someone in the side of the head and knocked them out? Aw, someone's grumpy. You snatched some poor grunt's meal right out of his hand and ate it? Well, she can't help being hungry! You end up terrorizing, bullying, and attempt to eat that sheep hybrid that lives here too on a daily basis? Well he should keep a better eye on her, mine's just following instincts.

And then there was that time you quite literally bit a man's finger off, and it had to be reattached -- but not after quite the struggle getting you to give it up, but he was nice about that too. Come on, be good, spit it out. You eventually complied with this request, seeing as you had no way to explain that the human in question had been annoying you, so you supposed you'd be the better person here and give him the appendage back even if such graciousness is undeserved.

Said underlings still attempt to occasionally protest the whole thing. Couldn't he have picked, you know, maybe a normal one? Like... a dog? A cat? A rabbit? Something that only needs light maintenance and doesn't regularly gives people concussions?

Nah. He would hold your face from behind as if to display you, squishing your cheeks and saying something about how cute you are. So cute! She won't hurt anyone, see? You make a low rumbling noise in your throat, intensely glaring at the onlooker, who then by that point usually has taken a few steps back and is quickly trying to exit the conversation. Seeing that narrow-eyed look on your face, the way you bare those pointed teeth when you growl... it shuts down anyone trying to object to him having you pretty quickly.

In truth, he's aware of the effect, even if he pretends to be blissfully ignorant to why they suddenly scurry off. He finds people protesting your presence very annoying, so he has no qualms about scaring them away.

He's not lying when he calls it cute, though. Your growling and aggression is cute to him, in his own morbid little way.

-----------------

Dainsleif - Doggirl

Dainsleif has actually considered dog hybrid ownership on more than one occasion. It's more of a passing thought, though, the sort of what-if thought all people have every now and then, briefly imagining the possibility in his head. But he has no intention to ever actually go through with such a thing, no, it would be far too impractical for his circumstances, and unfair to the creature in question. It's just a pleasant concept, but not realistic.

Or maybe he could get an actual dog. Like, an animal, nothing humanoid about it, no having to deal with the awkwardness of the raised-eyebrow look of judgement and suspicion he knows he'd get from the sellers if he got a hybrid one. Single adult man with obvious distaste for interaction, purchasing a hybrid of all things... they'd think it was for nefarious purposes.

But he's certainly heavily considered the idea. He could get one of those big hunting dog types. Granted, an actual animal would work, but it would be kind of nice to have something that could communicate back to him.

It would be useful for his somewhat nomadic, quest-driven lifestyle. He can't always afford the time to stop in cities and the like, but he's not the most skilled hunter out there. Having a dog that could sniff out and even chase down small animals, and hear upcoming enemies from a distance, would be very useful.

But it's just a thought he's entertained a few times. Not something he actually wants enough to act upon. It would be a hassle, you know? So while he's mulled over it a bit, it never goes beyond abstract thoughts, never into anything serious.

Instead, you sort of come to him.

Not that he's doing anything out of the ordinary to invoke your presence, no. Just traveling as usual, exploring a rural area on the outskirts of a more urban one, with the occasional homestead dotted here or there. A voice calls out of nowhere -- wait, wait! When he turns to face the source of the sound, he can see you from a distance, running up to him, clearly intending to approach him for some reason. He pauses, waits for you to come up.

You seem to be one of those little... yappy dogs.

See, much like with animals in general, for various dog hybrids, the personality and breed are correlated. You're one of those tiny fluffy dogs, where the actual dog you share half your DNA with would fit in a handbag or the like. Those breeds that are made solely for the purpose of being luxury pets with poor athletic and endurance abilities. Your tail is shaped like a pom-pom, more fluff than tail itself. Your ears are disproportionately huge to your head, and equally covered in silky fluff. They bounce with each little step you take as you run up to him, eyes tearful and voice strained with panic. He's the first person to have come by in some time, and likely no one else to help will come by any time soon, so you force yourself to be brave and implore for help from this man, even though he is quite scary-looking.

My master is sick.

Your ears flatten to your head. He has to refrain from sighing... he can't afford to be using up valuable time like this, you probably just need to go into town and get a doctor. Still, he can't bring himself to ignore you or refuse to help.

He does try, though. He opens his mouth and is just about to try and say that you need to go into town and get an actual doctor, and that he has places to be, but... then he looks you in the eye, sees your watery eyes and trembling lip and you look so scared and pitiful and... ugh. Curse him for having a soft side. Fine. He takes a deep breath, asks you to take him in and he'll try his best to help you.

Thankfully, the reality of the situation doesn't hit him all at once and thereby catch him off-guard -- no, the moment you open the door into the main room, the smell that hits him is putrid enough that he's prepared for what he knows he's about to see when you pull the bedroom curtain back. Yeah... ugh, the body is at least several days old. He feels a twinge of pity looking around the room, several cups of water and the like that you, in your confusion and concern, have brought over.

...You don't understand. You're looking up at him like you're waiting for him to do something to help. Your cognitive capacity isn't deep enough to grasp what's happening. Great... this is a very unpleasant situation to be stuck in.

He explains it to you slowly, but it dawns on you what he's leading up to as he's trying to explain. Your eyes water up. No! He's fine, he's just sick... he was sick and coughing until a few days ago...

He stays for a few hours. You keep trying to desperately nudge the body, now distraught and whimpering. He can't bring himself to just up and leave, so he watches as you do so, repetitively insisting the man is fine, until finally, after a few hours, you lower down onto the ground, pull your knees up to your chest and wrap your arms around them, and bury your face into your arms, shivering and sniffling, ears flattened to your head.

He can be cold, but he's not heartless. He feels a lot of pity, watching you as you accept the matter. What is he supposed to do now? He can't just leave you here, not in good conscience... you'll probably die on your own.

He's quiet for a long time, deep in thought. It's well into the evening when he finally speaks again.

You can't stay here. I'll take you somewhere safe.

You refuse, shaking your head. He has to reason with you. Tell you that you'll be all alone, that you'll be in danger of attackers and predators, that you're going to starve or get sick. Eventually, after a lot of trying to get through to you, you reluctantly agree.

Well, that's good. It won't be a big deal, he thinks to himself. He can just... take you to the nearest town, drop you off at a shelter. You'll be much better off than you would be left alone here. You're not made for hunting or anything, you'll certainly starve to death or worse if he were to let you stay by yourself. He's doing a good thing. It won't be much time at all. You'll be taken care of, and in fact, giving you up to a shelter is probably even better than the life you were living out here. He can't help but wonder why some old man had you out here, living alone... ugh.

In the morning, he sets off, letting you trail behind him. Takes you all the way into the nearest big city. Your eyes are full of wonder, mouth hanging open as you take in all the sights and sounds of a bustling urban area. It's rather cute, but he has to get you to hold his hand so you don't go running off. He ends up finding the place, but... well, he doesn't like the look of the local shelter. Big grey slab, looks very uninviting and cold, seems overcrowded, and something about it just makes him feel... off. He can't bring himself to leave you at a place like this. They're probably too overcrowded to take care of you properly. He can't do that, the guilt would eat away at him.

Next town, maybe. You'll have to accompany him a while longer, he tells you, sorry. You don't seem to mind. You barely hear him, too distracted by everything going on around you until you exit and return to the beaten path. And thus begins what he assumes will be a very brief journey together.

It does occur to him that, after so much idle thought about getting one, it's kind of ironic that a dog hybrid fell into his hands by complete chance anyway. Of course, having you is not what he imagined when he used to think about acquiring a dog. He was envisioning a hybrid that could, you know, sort of rough the wilderness with him. Instead, he soon finds that you end up essentially making his life even harder, posing a burden at every conceivable opportunity.

His teleportative capabilities can only do so much, so he does have to travel by foot quite a bit... but you struggle to keep up.

Noooo, you whine, you don't want to cross the stream because your tail will get wet. He ends up having to make two trips across the water, the first to carry you, your legs wrapped around his waist and arms around his neck (your little pom-pom tail stiff and twitching all the while), then the second to go back and get the things he was carrying. He has to make much more frequent stops, as your feet begin to hurt, and you get hungry rather frequently (and, as it turns out, are a bit picky too).

Granted, you can fulfill the functions he originally considered a dog hybrid for. You can sniff out small animals... except you don't really chase them, just go ballistic at the sight and yap at them as they run up the trees and out of range, scaring away anything nearby. Not to mention, your scent tends to lure predators... and even worse, you attack predators.

See, much like any small dog, you have this odd duality where it seems your brain fails to process that you are, in fact, not a large and deadly animal, and thus you feel the need to attack almost everything, regardless of how many times your size and strength they are. Tigers, sumpter beasts, lawachurls. It's an instinct, too, you'll just be walking or resting until your ears suddenly perk up, your pupils go huge and you bolt off before he can stop you. The creatures often don't see you at first, they just hear a high-pitched yapping sound, turn their heads all around only to finally notice you when you bite their heels. Thankfully, up to now, every single time he's managed to come right behind you, running after you and calling out to you, snatching you up just before you were about to get crushed, impaled, or chomped on. Traveling through Sumeru, you were nearly swallowed up by those tigers what, eight times? It didn't help that, since your brain registered them as cats, your instinct was instead to lunge at them.

In fact, you can't help but yap at enemies even from a distance, thereby drawing enemies that would have otherwise let you pass unnoticed and luring them into combat for him to fight off -- all while ensuring your safety, since, despite your incessant yapping and growling at the sight of them, once they start swinging at you, you curl up into a fetal position and whimper, tail between your legs, crying for him to make them go away. In addition to these safety concerns, you have a tendency to eat whatever you may find, various berries and plants that you swallow up when he has his head turned, often resulting in you getting very sick and him having to care for you as you recover.

You struggle with his name. Mister Day-nz-leeeeev. Too weird of a word for your doggie brain. You settle for Mister, as you call all unfamiliar men, but as time goes on you swap out a vowel, and he sort of just comes to the realization one day when you say it that you've been calling him Master for a while now.

He clenches his jaw. That's not right. That sounds too... permanent. He's still going to drop you off somewhere, you know, he just needs to find a place first.

...He does need to do that, right? He can't just...

No. No, he can't keep you. He chastises himself for even letting the thought cross his mind for a split second. His journey is far too dangerous, and his own future too uncertain to commit to such a thing. It's a non-option.

But the next town also doesn't have a very inviting-looking shelter. He can't leave you here. No, it looks cold and sad and not a place he can feel unworried about leaving you in.

What if the people are neglectful? What if they don't feed you? They'll probably not give you the same amount of focused attention as he does, they're busy taking care of tons of creatures. They won't know you only like this food made this way, that you need these certain conditions to sleep, all the little specific needs you have that he's learned with time. There's no way he can leave you here. He'll have to find someplace else. Surely, soon he'll find somewhere he can leave you.

Each night, now, he runs fingers through your ears and tail, checking to make sure you didn't get any ticks on you with those huge fluffy ears. So soft... but he ends up retracting his hands. He grinds his teeth and moves away from you. Can't afford to get too attached, and he tells himself it would be taking advantage of your naivete to touch you too much in a way that you, too, might get attached.

He ends up not having much of a choice, though. You end up having an… incident. He gets flustered thinking about it at any point afterwards. About a month in, laying there one night trying to go to sleep, you get all… whimper-y. You shuffle over to him and start… wrapping your legs around his leg and… grinding forward… little canine whines, you whimper that you feel hot and weird. Oh. Great. How is he supposed to handle this? It’s the most awkward few minutes of his life.

This man is not exactly the best at dealing with embarrassing subjects, he pretty much just goes red in the face and nearly stammers as he speaks, tells you to just calm down and… and uh… well, he ends up basically just letting you do it. Watching with wide eyes and heavy breath, giving you comforting rubs on your head and neck until you finally shudder and go still, and, thankfully for him so he doesn’t have to deal with unbearable shame, nearly immediately fall asleep – but not before snuggling up to him, wrapping your arms around him. He has trouble falling asleep that night.

He tries not to speak about it from then on out, and thankfully, you seem to not find it strange or shameful at all, not even acknowledging it the next day or ever again. He just resolves to maybe try and forget the matter. He almost, almost finds himself thinking something along the lines of what he can do to help you next time, almost starts thinking through and imagining it in his head, but he stops himself.

No. There is no next time. He'll have found you a better place to stay by then. Maybe those shelters will be able to medicate you or something to prevent this. Yeah, they'll be able to take care of it better than he can.

For now, he'll just have to keep you with him and worry about everything else, such as keeping you safe. He's afraid of failing in that task, though. Always checking up on you.

There's one incident where it comes far too close.

He really, really doesn't mean it. You were being whiny again, complaining you don't want to keep walking, that you don't want to take this route because it's muddy or cold. He's irritated, he speaks without thinking.

Do you realize how much more difficult you make things for me?

As soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets it. He didn't mean to say something so cruel... he opens his mouth to apologize, but can't find the words.

Oh, no. Your ears tilt back, your little eyes water up and you start to sniffle. Yeah... now he feels really bad.

Agh... hey, he didn't mean that, just... just go to bed for now, okay? He's just frustrated. It'll be better tomorrow. You both need some sleep. You agree to that, sadly curling up into a ball, facing away from him.

As bad as he feels, the situation takes a turn for the worse when he wakes up to find your sleeping bag empty.

He immediately panics. Dammit. You must have run off. Surely nothing took you away, right? He would have heard that.

Yes, sure enough, there's your footprints on the ground. Unfortunately, they cut off only a few feet away.

He scours the area for hours. Calling out to you, doing everything in his power to hunt you down. Checking under every crevice, behind every tree. Eventually, he swallows the dread and checks beside the nearby river, the only place he's hoping to not find you, as he knows it would likely be in the form of your body washed up on the side bank. But still nothing. He makes several rounds around the area. How far could you have gone?

It's not until he finally resolves to go back to where you two had been sleeping and see if maybe you decided to return there, that he hears a whimpering. Coming from... up?

He tilts his head upward. You're up in the branches, curled up. It's an overwhelming feeling of relief.

So much so that even in that moment, he realizes just how much importance he's staked on you. He's fully aware, and isn't the type to push thoughts away or lie to himself. He has to acknowledge the realization in that moment that he's grown so attached to you that the thought of something having happened to you is the greatest panic he's felt in ages, decades even.

You open your eyes when he calls out for you, you're all trembling and sniffling. You say you climbed up to escape a monster that was chasing you. But being a canine, and not a feline, you're not exactly adept at climbing up or down, and now you're stuck, too afraid to attempt to come back down.

But when he tells you to come down, that he'll catch you, you shake your head, ears facing back, puff your cheeks out.

No! You don't even want me! You want me to go away, so I'm gonna go somewhere else!

He sighs. It's petulant, stubborn. You're being childish, and he knows that. But he can't help but feel guilty.

No, I...

He has to pause for a moment. Never been too good with words.

He says he's sorry. That he didn't mean it. That he wants you to stay with him, that he cares about you and wants you by his side.

If I didn't care for you, I wouldn't have bothered looking for you, would I? So... come on, just come down...

Your ears twitch.

Promise?

He gives a long sigh.

Yes, I promise. Come on, I'll catch you.

He holds his arms up and open. You hesitate a moment longer, pausing to wipe your face from all the crying you were doing before.

And finally, after a moment, you leap off, landing directly into his arms. The force is a bit much, and he actually goes stumbling backwards, landing flat on his back. At least it provides a cushion to you, though.

You both lay there for a moment. You feel him take a deep breath in and out. He reaches up to stroke the top of your head. You lay your face down against his chest.

In truth, he's rather worried about the future, if he gets into any serious danger while pursuing his quite powerful enemies... and even so, he also thinks about the fact that your lifespan is limited. He doesn't like that thought. Perhaps he was intentionally trying to avoid growing attached to you for that reason. It makes him feel like there's a knot in his stomach.

But when he tilts his head down to look at you, sees the content expression on your face as you nuzzle your face into his chest, sees your fluff tail moving back and forth... he decides that whatever inevitable pain the future may hold, maybe he can allow himself to indulge in this happiness for now, even if but for what is to him the blink of an eye.

--------------------

Itto - Cowgirl

"Cow" almost feels like an inaccurate description; it invokes too much imagery of a soft, gentle giant sort of animal, peacefully gnawing at grass in a field, rather than the more accurate portrayal of the utter horned, mooing demon that the actual you embodies.

Aggressive and high-strung, and very territorial, it's a fairly common problem with your specific breed. Your cow ears and wiry tail are always twitching with irritation.

And it is for that reason that you find yourself alone on a path in the Inazuman wilderness. This one's too feisty. So they said, you understood that even with a very limited vocabulary and understanding of speech. Didn't bother to try selling you off, since it your aggression was obvious enough no one would accept, so they just dumped you out here on the road, far away and unable to attack the rest of the hybrid herd. You find yourself huffing, stomping around as you navigate the wilderness. Nothing better to do, so you might as well try and find somewhere to go from here. You're rather irked about the whole thing, though. You were never that bad. They were overreacting.

How rude, to just abandon you out here. You're mad. You decide that the next human you see is getting a set of horns directly in their stomach.

Which doesn't take long. You were dropped off somewhat close to the nearby city, along the pathway. Not even half an hour has passed before you cross paths with a human, a very loud one, walks very heavily.

He does take notice of you, though, pausing in his steps. Says something to you you don't understand -- what are you doing out here? -- with a big smile. Seems to find you quite amusing, strolls right over and past the top of your head, laughing about something or another.

How bothersome. You huff a heavy breath, pawing your foot into the ground in a warning gesture. The golden ring through your nose moves with your huffing. He doesn't seemed fazed by it, still more amused than anything, and thus, you have no choice but to take a few steps back, tilt your head down, and lunge forward. Hopefully you'll skewer him.

You're met with a harsh resistance, stopped so firmly the sudden force to your head makes a dull ache in your skull.

Woah, woah, slow down there, uh....

It takes you a few seconds to process that he's holding you still by the horns, one hand gripped around each one. Humans are generally quite weak, and easily knocked over. This one, however, is holding you perfectly still, and he's not even tense, nor planting his feet apart in a stance to ground himself, no, just sort of standing there in a relaxed stance, looking down at you with an inquisitive, but very unbothered and unstrained expression, as if restraining you is not causing him to exert any real effort or strength.

Woah, you're really trying to get me huh. Haha.

He's laughing at you. Not maliciously, more amused, but it makes you feel a tight knot of embarrassment in your chest nonetheless.

After a moment of aggressive thrashing from you, though, shoving yourself forward with as much force as you can muster, you feel your feet leave the ground. You go up, and then, you go down. Your back slams into the ground.

The blow leaves you dizzy. Your vision is spinning, you're flat on your back staring up at the sky, blinking, wide-eyed with shock.

Oh, uh... didn't mean to throw you that hard.... you alright?

You sit up, but you're swaying from side to side pretty badly, jaw hanging open.... whoops. He was just trying to get you to calm down, swear, didn't mean to make you hit your head. Well, never fear, you're in good hands! So, you know, no need to go running off to your owner and getting someone mad at him...

Actually... where is your owner? Hm... you don't have anything on you but basically rags, no collar or anything. And there's no houses or fencing nearby. Oh, you don't have an owner, you must be wild. That's good, that means no one can come after him and get him charged with hybrid assault or something -- or, ah, good because he just doesn't have to explain that you're definitely not actually hurt at all and that you just fell over is all. Uh... what's got you so aggressive though? He was just trying to pet you...

Oh! You probably have something wrong you need help with! He's heard plenty of stories like that before, some wild hybrid or animal will approach a human and try to communicate some need, try to get help from a higher species. And animals get aggressive when they're in pain right? Maybe you're really hurt. Well, no worries, you've come to the right person. Good thing too, you could've ended up coming across a really bad person instead. You were smart to come to him for help! You clearly knew a capable person when you saw one.

Thus, he lugs you all the way to the nearby main part of the city, full of humans -- all of whom give you a wide berth, eyes widening as they watch your thrashing and hear your aggressive bellowing.

Thankfully, he has just enough mora to cover a hybrid vet visit, and is willing to spend it on you. It's the right thing to do, y'know? Act of goodwill and all that to help some poor animal, probably gonna give him good karma and all that.

A quick examination, however, concludes you have no problems. Found in the wilderness, hm... Well, no tags means they can't track down an owner... Unless you want to keep this one, we'll take it to a shelter....

The decision only takes a matter of seconds. It's like one of those divine signs of fate! You're clearly meant to come with him. You have the horns, it's basically predestined, a sign from Celestia or something. It wouldn't be right to ignore that. You'll be like a mascot! Yeah, that'll work.

You still thrash quite a bit as you're carried off again, but he doesn't seem to notice. He's too busy talking about how you're going to be right at home and really get along with everyone or something like that. You only know a few human words, so you're pretty much lost on anything he's saying.

Even after arriving at what appears to be your new "home," you are not entirely certain why you'd been dragged away, and you're quite confused and afraid. After a few minutes of observation, though, you come to an important realization that you did not look closely enough until now. The one who has brought you here is another hybrid, not a human. He possesses horns, which means he is clearly one of your own kind, you were acquainted with plenty of bull hybrids in your herd days. You were mistaken to think of him as human.

However, he has human ears, and has no tail. What kind of bull has no tail? Maybe his was ripped off somehow. That doesn't explain the human ears though... maybe he's some genetic mishap and got the wrong ears. And how did a bull manage to master human speech? More importantly, why form one's herd out of humans? The others here have no horns, nor any sign of animal blood. That seems rather nonsensical. None of it make sense to you.

But as a herd animal (even if not a very peaceful one), you have an instinct to be around others of your own kind. This one and Ushi are likely the only ones of your own kind you'll find for quite some time, you have an urge to stay with them, and really, the thought of being out there alone again is a bit frightening. So even if they already get on your nerves quite a bit, you resolve to stay right here. It's not like you have anywhere else to go, and you quickly realize that they intend to give you free food, which is a major plus.

In fact, you get adjusted rather quickly. After your initial thrashing when you were carried here, you pose no more real resistance to the setup itself, which is taken as a sign that you have accepted your belonging here. Well, you do protest the cowbell that gets put around your neck on the second day of your stay, disliking the sound and weight, but it proves impossible to pull off with your mere pawing at it. Perhaps if you were a bit smarter and capable of using your thumbs in complex ways, you might be able to remove it, but unfortunately all you can think to do is tug on it, which proves futile, and thus you grow used to it. This way everyone can keep an eye on you, make sure you don't go wandering off.

The humans this bull lives with, however, are wary of you. It doesn't help that your initial reaction to them is to huff and jerk your head in an attempt to stab them.

But he doesn't get mad. You're just getting adjusted is all! That's actually your way of greeting, it's playful! You're not trying to hurt anybody, so he says. Still, after a couple of incidents leaving point-tip scars on the appendages of other members, you have the horns shaved and sanded down to dull ends (quite the ordeal, as it took essentially the entire gang to hold you down and complete the process). Though bitter about it for some time, you eventually accepted this, and gradually became less prone to attack in general.

You are now considered the gang co-mascot and group representative. Your role as representative is to... represent. Exist. You don't really have any responsibilities except to be present at major functions and sit there.

That being said, it is a vital function and nothing important can be done without your presence. You are consulted for important decisions (What do you think?, he asks, and when you grunt or flick your ears, see, she thinks it's a good idea!), and no important decision can be made without your supposed opinion (Hang on, we have to consult the representative...). It has been argued by some that this is not necessary (and perhaps that you aren't even aware of what's being said or what's going on in the first place), but after getting into said argument on a variety of occasions and losing to sheer stubbornness every single time, the other members have come to acknowledge the significance of your say in things.

You also get a vote in any major decisions. With your inability to form and limited understanding of human words, however, your vote is automatically determined to align with his vote, thus often swaying the vote in his favor (it does not help that, as leader, he already gets two votes anyway...).

Much like your general "opinions," this has been protested by other members a couple of times, but it is argued that you deserve to have your opinion heard as a vital and irreplaceable gang member, and since you can't voice your opinion, the responsibility falls upon him to correctly interpret your gestures to the vote you're trying to communicate. Who else knows you well enough to interpret you? Exactly. You're uncertain of what it means when the humans talk back and forth a bunch and then turn to you as if expecting something, but as soon as you give any sort of sound or gesture, that seems to be satisfactory to continue, so you don't mind it.

You're given an outfit color-matching to your owner's, once again for the purpose of matching the gang's "vibes," whatever that may mean, and to be better recognizable as the token representative. Likewise, now, every couple of days, he paints your horns red so that you match, says something about it looking cool and another comment about the aforementioned matching of vibes. You have to be matching, since you're going to be going everywhere together and do everything together!

Well, he does have some necessary things to do that you can't come with him for. In those cases, the others can watch over you. But then again... they're all, you know, normal humans, and there's a chance you could slam them with those horns, make them lose their grip and run off...

Oh, Ushi would never run away. Why didn't he think about that until now? You two would probably get along really well too. You two are kind of the same thing, after all. He loops a rope between the two of you, ties your necks together with a few spare feet of leeway between. See? Just like you. You'll get along well.

You turn towards this... creature, huffing air out of your nostrils, making a low, threatening sound in your throat. Likewise, he makes the same gestures of aggression right back to you, slowly starts to dig a hoof into the ground. After a few moments, you both put your heads down, lunging forward, horns clacking against each other.

Aw, see, you're friends already! Glad that worked out. He'll only be gone a few hours, so just play nice.

Your animal brain is just short of the competence required to understand how to untie a knot, so all you can do is struggle against the tie, but the other creature proves very heavy and prevents you from moving any distance by sitting down flat on the ground, very clearly not intending to move any time soon.

You huff, you moo. You tussle with each other, clonking horns again. The humans that remain to supervise watch on with wide-eyed concern, mumbling to themselves as to whether or not they should intervene, but none of them want to take the risk. Even though they're now very dull, your horns will leave quite the bruise if hit with enough force.

You try your best, but he doesn't budge. In fact, seemingly growing a bit irritated with your disruptions, he gives you a solid headbutt to the side, sending you flopping over. You stay down. Defeated and humiliated and exhausted, you only make a sad sound, resolving to rest on the ground.

...But now that you're not fighting anymore, Ushi seems to calm down as well. Sort of waddles over your way, plops down onto the ground beside you. You're very bitter towards him at first, but quickly find that he is warm and squishy and makes a great companion for napping on the ground in the sun. You're still pressed together by the time your owner returns.

Aw. Look at you two, getting along so well you sleep curled up next to each other like that. This was a good idea.

The days get easier from there on. You still get roped to Ushi daily, you don't mind it so much. You two have fun -- still clonking heads and tussling around, but now it's friendly and playful, with much less force, and when you both get tired you eat and rest together. It becomes a regular routine. Your life is carefree and easy, and the only times you're in any distress were the occasions where your owner was in jail for several consecutive days, but even that never lasts too long.

You think you will stay here, indefinitely, now. You have no real reason to try to run off, you're well-fed and cared for, and all of these humans and the other hybrid alike have become familiar to you, admittedly you are starting to think you might care for them, just a little.

And to be honest, bovine long-term memory isn't that great. Soon you find that your memories of any other life you had before are very fuzzy, you're almost uncertain if they were real or a dream. Soon, they'll fade away for good, and this life here will be all you've ever known anyway.

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Dottore - ratgirl

Agencies can't always ensure hybrids go to good people.

They try. They do background checks, similarly to how someone would adopt a kid. They want to be sure the hybrid isn't going to be abused, neglected, or otherwise mistreated, and that for hybrids requiring special care, that the person in question has the means and finances to properly do so. Granted, they're aware that many people use hybrids for... self-gratification purposes, and everyone knows why single adult males are by far the largest consumer demographic for purchasing them, but plenty of hybrid owners who get hybrids to be domestic partners are still good to them.

But some agencies are lower quality, more shady, and some are just desperate to adopt out a specific hybrid. And plenty of individuals have no real record, positive or negative, to speak of, so it's easier to just not make a fuss and assume they're decent and hand the hybrid over. And, most notably, shelters and agencies are often quite eager to get rid of individual species considered... less desirable.

That's not what they tell you, though. You're just... very special! Sure, you watch plenty of dogs and cats and rabbits come and go within days, while you've been here for months... but it just takes a certain kind of person to take care of rats. The really nice caretaker lady says that maybe they're just afraid that the injuries mean you're aggressive, but she's certain that if someone takes time to look more closely, they'll see you're very nice. Besides, they can kindly explain to anyone who asks that it's not your fault. Poor thing, you heard one of the workers say to another, attacked by some wild animal... You don't remember it very well. You woke up here all bandaged up, and they took care of you, so these are good people, you assume.

You miss the other half of your tail, though. You don't know much about medicine, you thought it would grow back... but when they took the bandages off, only a stumpy half remains. You suppose you look a bit lopsided too, being able to see yourself in the glass well enough to see that one of your ears are all shredded up, with a chunk missing on each. Maybe the visitors just get confused and don't know what you are, or something.

Maybe they just don't notice you, since you're a bit quiet. They'll just... move you even closer to the front, make sure people notice you. You try to sit at the front of your pen to make sure people see you.

People have negative associations just because of the word, too. They're okay with mice hybrids, fawn over how cute they are, but even though you look very similar, they sort of make a face at the word rat. The workers just tell you it takes very special people to appreciate very special hybrids, and you'll find that person eventually.

"Eventually" takes a long time, but it does finally come. The workers that come in to get you seem to be in a good mood, so it must be something good.

They say you're in luck. Someone came in here very specifically seeking a rat, of all things. They go through the standard process. Take you out front, get you to the person that requested it... which happens to be more than one person. All wearing weird masks. They look very scary. But if they want you, then they must be good people too.

The worker stammers out something about explaining the obvious missing parts of you, but one of them interrupts her. That's fine. We were just told to get a rat.

No hesitation. Whips out the mora -- a hundred mora, specifically, far less than they charge for other hybrids -- and doesn't even give them the chance to ask if there's anything else needed before reaching over, picking you up, shoving you into a crate, and taking you outside.

You're very confused, but you maintain a good attitude. You're just grateful for them. You ask a lot of questions, but they aren't very keen on answering you. Eventually you come to understand you were bought for someone else, that they're supposed to take you to, so you wait patiently... a several-day trip, all the way to this large building. Full of the same masked people.

The man is one of them, but he looks a bit different. You're a bit nervous at first that he might not be okay with you, but he looks you up and down and gives a quick acknowledgement to the ones that brought you here, so he must be content. He stoops down to get a better look at you in the crate and smiles... but it almost feels a bit... sinister. It sends a shiver down your spine. You tell yourself you'll have to get over that feeling, this person is a good person because why else would he bother to bring you here?

He says you're going to help with something very important. That you get to help him with research. It's very honorable to be doing this. A privilege. So many people would gladly volunteer for it, but you get to do it because you're special and perfect for it. Isn't that nice?

Such a serious honor and responsibility makes you feel nervous, but proud. You're not exactly sure what you did to be selected, you don't question exactly what it was that makes you so ideal for it. But he said you were special. That it has to be you. It makes you feel happy.

It's not a lie. Rats are very similar to people, genetically. And they're weak and at the perfect level of being intelligent enough to study reactions, while being too stupid to understand what's going on. Not to mention, they're cheap, they're too weak to be dangerous if they lash out, and they're not very bright socially either. That's why they make such good test subjects.

Besides, acquiring full humans for these sort of tests would require unwilling subjects, which is much harder to work with as they tend to be uncooperative, and you have to dispose of human subjects to prevent them from causing problems.

But your nature makes you very compliant, eager to please and unable to understand the weight of what's going on. He's almost surprised that a few nice words was all you needed to hear to be on board with it. He already had a whole second speech planned to convince you you had some deadly disease that needed to be cured to scare you into compliance, but it seems that won't be necessary.

At first, that's all you really do, and thus begins your new life. Each day, he comes into the lab where your crate is, opens it and takes you out. Does a routine check-up on various vitals, treats you in a variety of ways, and then leaves, and you're back in the crate again. Usually this process happens twice a day, but if he's particularly busy he may come only once. He doesn't say too much to you, although he is always muttering to himself about something or another, you usually can't hear much. Master seems to be a rather eccentric person, you sense some of the underlings aren't particularly fond of working under him, seem to be a bit intimidated... but he's never outright mean to you, so that means he's a good person, you believe.

You're very timid, given how new and unfamiliar it all is, so you don't want to annoy him... thus, you mostly keep quiet, speak when spoken to, which isn't very often. You comply with all the instructions, you swallow everything you're supposed to. You don't fight the injections either, even if your instinct is to pull away, instead only giving a tiny squeak. You do the best you can. You occasionally ask questions about his work, but the answers you get are short and dismissive, so you quickly stop asking.

...But in truth, you find yourself growing increasingly sad. Other than these treatments, you spend most of the time locked in the tiny crate, in an empty, quiet room. He doesn't really talk to you besides commands and questions on how you feel from various experimental treatments. There's a certain coldness you're treated with. Not an intentional, forceful coldness, but rather more like being ignored, like he simply forgets your existence outside of the moments he's directly engaging with you, doesn't think to do anything more with you. He treats you with dismissal as soon as you're done with treatment, and even with your limited perception, you sense he doesn't really view you as anything beyond an object to be worked with. You're still very happy to see him, and you desperately hope that each day will be one of the days you get to see him twice, but... it wears you down.

It makes you question why he has you at all. It's not done with cruel intent, rather just lack of even crossing his mind, so you aren't too hurt, but... it does make you feel bad. Are you doing something wrong? You've seen plenty of hybrids that have masters that really love them, so why not you?

But, you suppose, they were different sorts of creatures. Maybe that's it. Maybe your kind just isn't supposed to receive that same kind of affection. The thought makes you feel sad.

Within a few months, you find that you stop feeling hungry. You stop feeling jittery when you're in the crate, and instead you often feel very tired. All you really want to do is sleep.

And you do. Your life becomes even emptier. You lay there and blink as you stare at the wall. You respond to questions with head motions rather than words. The medicines have less effect than ever, you feel perpetually numb.

This does not go unnoticed. At first, he thinks maybe something he gave you did it, writes it down as a potential effect of this or that, and carries on as usual. Must cause drowsiness or something.

Until, on one occasion, he's coming to bring you food as usual (you tell yourself you should be very grateful, he never forgets and always comes at the same time!), but notices that there's no need. Your food from last night is untouched. And while you used to perk up when he'd enter the room, he's noticed the past few days you just lay there, not even raising your head. Nothing you've been given recently should cause this behavior.

He tilts his head, looks at you with narrowed eyes. Casts a glance to your uneaten food in your bowl, your lethargic slouch. Didn't take this sort of depression into account. Sometimes it's hard to remember subjects are living beings and all that.

Which isn't a problem. It won't affect the research quality. You'll live, you'll eat eventually and as long as you're living and breathing, you continue to have some use. He doesn't say anything, just turns and heads back to the door.

And then pauses. Casts another glance back at you, laying all curled up on your side. You hear the pause in footsteps, feel the gaze on you, and you tilt your eyes up out of curiosity just enough to see, but your eyes dart away as you make eye contact. He's kind of scary to look in the eye like that. You go back to staring blankly at the floor, unmoving.

...It really doesn't matter, and he should have no qualms with just walking out the door, but...

...

You hear the footsteps come back in your direction. The sound of the crate unlocking and swinging open again. But this time, hands wrap under your armpits and pull you out.

You're a bit confused. It's not time for your daily treatment. You make a startled little sound as you're pulled out of the crate and up onto your feet.

He tells you you need to get some more sunlight and movement, so... for the time being, come with him and just don't cause a distraction. There's very important matters to be dealt with, so, stay very close and don't wander off either. And don't speak to anyone else.

You are overjoyed at the opportunity, letting out a particularly ear-piercing little squeak of excitement (he tenses up at the ringing in his ear, but does't bother to say anything). You've never been outside the lab since the day you came here. You do your best to stay still and quiet, trailing behind him as he goes about various tasks, talks to various people. He's a lot more animated and theatrical when talking to people, whereas he's usually more quiet and dismissive of conversation when focused on a task such as when he's dealing with you. It's sort of a new side to him... and is admittedly a bit scary.

He even asks you for some things, asks you to hand him this or that, and you happily oblige, the act making you feel very useful. Well, except you can't get things out of labeled containers, as you are quite illiterate, but otherwise you give it your all. Eventually, he has someone go through the various materials and tape colored strips of paper to the jars, so that you can now help fetch them when needed. In truth, getting you to get things often takes more time than if he were to just get them himself, but it gives you something to do, and it makes you happy.

You still have daily treatment, though. The medicines make you feel woozy and tired. You don't like the needles, you squeak when they go into your skin. You dread the one day every two weeks when you have to have blood taken out. It always makes you feel so tired, you shiver so much, some times you pass out for a while. But if it's necessary, you have no choice but to endure. Much to your appreciation, rather than just the tasteless processed feed, he starts to spend money on some seeds and other food to give you handfuls of as reward for your efforts.

Since he has to know if it's working, he has to ask questions. How does it feel?

Your answers are usually not positive. Tired. Dizzy. My stomach hurts. My head hurts. It burns.

But you can do it. As long as you are certain and reassured of one thing.

Did I do good?

As long as he says yes, you're content.

...At night, you go back in the crate. You can't move around much, can't stand and can only barely turn around, but there's plenty to ensure you're all set -- a rodent drip water bottle latched to the side for you to latch your mouth onto and drink from if needed. A thick layer of blankets. A few durable wooden blocks for you to chew on. You're grateful for the kind consideration. At the shelter, you would be left in the cold concrete pen with none of those things all night, and it made you sad oftentimes. You feel more awake at night, so it's frustrating to be kept in such a tiny space during your most active hours, but you understand. You pass the time by chewing on your blocks.

You endure it, for his sake. You want to help. You want to be good and get the rewards and pats, you don't want to disappoint.

But a day does come that you get pushed over the edge. Lots of needles. The first one makes your stomach feel queasy. The second one makes your head hurt. You feel awful. It gets worse and worse as you swallow this or that, to test how they work together. Something gets attached to your head that feels heavy and just hurts worse. You're about to get another jab, but you can't handle anymore. You squeak.

No more...

You shiver and sniffle. You always try very hard to be good and strong and brave and endure it all, but it's become too much. Tears trail down your face, you shoulders wrack with tiny sobs.

There's a long pause. But you hear the materials clack as they're set back down.

Alright. It can wait.

He comes over to where you are, sits down for a moment, presses a hand to your forehead. Well, you're not sweating, which would be an indicator of a potential reaction that would require emergency intervention, so you'll just have to ride this one out and--

You take the opportunity of him sitting down on the table to shuffle over. You rest your head down on his thigh. You feel all your muscles go lax. You're very tired. He goes quiet when you set your head down.

All his stuff is over there, but even after finishing whatever he was writing down, he doesn't move. After some time passes, you feel fingers run through your scalp, over and over in a soft, gentle motion. You feel yourself drift off to sleep.

And when you wake up... he's still perfectly still. Seems rather bored, he's drumming his fingers against his thigh, but hasn't budged. When you stir, he flickers his gaze down to you. You've been asleep an hour now, he says. It should be over now, yes?

You squeak. You hate to think he sat still just to not wake you up, you feel guilty... but for some reason, something about that fact also feels good. You bolt upright, apologizing, saying he could have woken you up...

He pauses for a moment. It's almost as if your words catch him off-guard, as if that possibility is, for whatever reason, something that didn't even cross his mind. A few seconds pass. But then he just shrugs, muttering something.

It doesn't end, but you do feel that sometimes you're given less tests per day. A lot of it is being given a singular treatment of some kind before being tested in some way. When you asked, he says that yes, it's very helpful, that you've contributed a lot. You feel proud for that much. You carry your head a bit higher whenever you walk around with him during the day.

Granted, you have some inconveniences. You sort of... Detract from his image. He tends to have a bit of a dramatic flair to whatever he does, and enjoys getting reactions out of people, but it's a bit difficult for subordinates to take the theatrical monologuing very seriously when you're sitting there behind him with a blank expression, gnawing on whatever raw vegetable you've been most recently given to placate you for a few hours, occasional squeak and all.

Some of them do question why he allows for what seems so unnecessary, but people generally know better than to question him, and have generally accepted that he's just like that, with "just like that" meaning "weird," and it's accepted that that's not changing anytime soon and that it's not supposed to make any sense to them.

Also, the underlings are allowed to pet you, for a few seconds each, otherwise they're shooed away and told they're overstimulating you, and gods forbid anyone interfere with research quality. Most of them do take the opportunity though, you're just too cute to resist giving you headpats.

Oh, but you do have a tendency to be absent-minded with a particular short rodent attention span, so soon a hybrid harness and leash is acquired for you (think of how they make those child harnesses and leashes? Same idea). It's almost comical, to the various onlookers, to see you two come strolling through the building. While he has that sort of ominous, heavy presence about him, it's quite amusingly contrasted by you pattering away walking on the tile floors next to him, attached by a leash in his hand he pulls you around with. The lower ranks all admittedly find it hilarious though, snicker a bit when you two walk by.

You forget exactly when you stopped sleeping in the crate. He says it's not good for your joints, and you're fairly certain he said he'd get you a larger crate eventually, and you could sleep in his bed in the meantime, but so far the larger crate hasn't come yet. The first night you chew a hole through his sleeve in your sleep, though, so you do have to be given blocks to chew on as you sleep. You're more well-rested this way, and it makes you happier, healthier.

That's what he thinks to himself. It's producing more clear-cut results, having a healthy specimen and all... so it's okay if he cares a bit for you in general. It's rather inconvenient, but might as well roll with it now. Prolonged contact and interaction will cause some variants of attachment in anyone. He just has to ensure to watch over you well, and there will be no concerns as to whether or not any underlying attachment will cause problems.

Oh, and on that note, aside from now-rare occasions where you're locked in your crate while he takes care of things you can't be there for, he ensures you never leave his sight. Can't have you roaming the facility halls... don't want to risk that bastard's bear getting ahold of you... would not be good.

#congrats to dain for getting the Pomeraniussy #also im officially making it canon in this AU that beargirl is an absolute MENACE to ratgirl and lambgirl #the predator instincts kick in 😔

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feathers-silly-rambles · 2 months

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Okay theory time!

Not a big one, but I might redo my Lilith theory later (I think my last one has holes). This one's about Susan. 😱

Spoilers

So we all know Rosie and Alastor both dislike Susan, but I wanted to tell you why I think that is.

But first, I'll have to go over what I think I know about the Cannibal Colony. I think they work sort of like a giant family. They all take care of each other and they probably aren't too fond of outsiders, likely killing and eating them if they get too close. They may personally dislike someone in the colony but if an outsider slaps them, they will obliterate them in an instant.

That being said, I think we all know Alastor didn't spawn into hell a part of their colony, and he probably met and befriended Rosie rather quickly after his appearance. Now I think he ended up staying with her during his early days in hell, or at least frequently visited. Everyone would know that he's Rosie's friend so they'd leave him alone, but that likely wouldn't spare him from judgment, and it's beyond likely that Susan gave him a hard time during his early days there.

We see that no one attacks Charlie when Alastor brings her there, and that's probably because they see that she's with him and therefore know not to bother her. However, Susan not only immediately begins mouthing off Charlie three seconds into her stage, but also threatens her ("Leave before I eat those big ass eyes of your!"). We also see that she likely doesn't have this attitude with her own people, as she doesn't say anything bad to or about Rosie (she even yells to bring her back the second she's off stage).

Once you win them over, you're safe with them, as shown in 'Ready For This', but all of this together makes me think that during his early days, Alastor would've had quite a bit of trouble with Susan (and probably a few others) given he was an outsider. Rosie doesn't seem to have a personal grudge against Susan (she never directly insulted her, just agreed with Alastor when he called her a bitch), and really only describes her as 'she's tough' in reference to getting her to agree. She probably hasn't had any bad experiences personally with her, but she's seen how she acts towards people outside the colony and knows her behavior very well.

Long story short, Susan mean and Alastor don't like it.

Maybe I'm putting way too much effort into this oldady but you know what? If I wanna write college essays whenever I have the tiniest idea, I'm gonna do that. Anyways, have a good day! :DD

Obligated bestie pic.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #feathers rambling #rosie #hazbin hotel rosie #charlie #hazbin hotel charlie #Susan #hazbin hotel susan #spoilers #episode 7 #cannibal town #cannibal colony #the tldr is that Susan bullied Alastor #How sad :(#hazbin hotel theory #theory

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egg04 · 4 months

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I did not like how my sona ended up here, so REDO AGAIN

Conceptualizing, not final, but I'll probably do some stuff along these lines.

Accessibility:

[ID from Alt Text: 2 digital sketches of egg04's sona. A short, medium-frame character with light-to-medium beige skin, and messy, cropped black hair (tied into a ponytail in the left-side sketch). They wear a long sleeve black shirt under a tattered short-sleeved t-shirt with colored sleeves and collar, left red and right green, black shoes, and baggy jeans with two off-center belts, one with big rectangle rivets and the other with a star buckle. The right-side sketch shows them wearing a short, khaki-colored denim skirt over the jeans. /End ID]

#tuko's rough sketches!#tuko's wips!#tuko's sona #||#described

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aotopmha · 6 months

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Attack On Titan Final (Final?) Thoughts

With AoT now done done, I really want to give my final thoughts (season 4 part 27):

If it weren't for Attack on Titan, I would have never become as active talking about media online as I have.

I would have never met, talked to and followed cool people like @raelis1, @momtaku, @ghostmartyr, @tatakaeeren and many others, some who fell out of love with the series and some who yet love it in its (im)perfection.

(I actually started as an anon on @momtaku's blog.)

I currently have almost 1300 followers, most of who followed me for AoT.

For 10 years, the series has been an active, weekly/monthly/in general periodic part of my life and for all of the issues I take with it personally, I loved most of the time I followed this story.

I loved theorising about and analysing this delibrate (and less delibrate and flawed) mess.

It's a compelling and memorable first long-form story by a young author and I'd say you can do much much worse (but also much better) for your first outing.

And to think, I went into the first episode expecting to hate it because of an unfortunate encounter with a fan of the series. But from there I caught up with the anime and then the manga, followed by quickly getting endlessly fascinated by it – and from the start I was fascinated by what I considered the flaws of the series as much as the positives.

And since getting into the series, I really developed my taste: I truly love dark stuff with a heart buried within it. The definition of shock value differs so much from person to person, but to me AoT *generally* had a good balance of both.

It is a B-movie (horror) that also has sincere and complicated thoughts about humanity. It uses all the tropes in bad visual novels and manga aimed at teens and up, but sometimes also turns them upside down in really cool ways.

I think it ended up a slave to unfortunate tropes within its ilk of series, but only two stories have ever come close to make me invested like this one.

And for the most tl;dr version of my thoughts on the series, for probably the last time (might make this a yearly thing, might not; at some point I also want to finally redo my Favorite Character List from back when I started this blog):

I love it with all of its warts. I think the anime ending really solidified this very specific opinion about it I have.

All of the contradictions within this series' themes and characters are fascinating. And all of the straight-forward ideas powerful and burning fiercely.

Not new, not original, but to me absolutely still memorable and still meaningful.

And I have been saying this since season 1: I think the anime 100% ended up being better than the manga. If I'll ever be able to get a full version of the story, I'll be getting all of the anime.

(It's also better in case Isayama ever goes full trash person, but supporting the anime has its own issues.)

#Attack on Titan #Shingeki no Kyojin #AoT #SnK #AoT ending #Attack on Titan anime #SnK ending #Shingeki no Kyojin anime #AoT finale #SnK finale #New pinned post?#Send me asks regarding the anime finale?

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potofstewie · 1 year

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Confide in Me

The lowdown: An angry and battered boyfriend, a scared yet concerned girlfriend and a $2.58 pack of frozen peas

MEGA HUUUUGE SHOUTOUT TO @auraee FOR HELPING ME WITH THE CONCLUSION CAUSE A CHICK WAS LOST

Word Count: 2.8k

Pairing: Rengoku x Black Reader (other readers are welcomed)

The things to know: VERYYY OOC Kyojuro, Blood, Smoking, Mentions of Child Abuse, Physical Abuse (kyojuro and shinjuro), Angst, yelling, swears, Eating as a coping mechanism (Kyojuro), a pack of frozen sweet peas

A/N: Oh, my, GOOOD. I hate how long this took and I'm sorry for how long it took. I got sick with something and I couldn't figure out for the life of me how to end this properly. I was also on the verge of deleting this numerous times to just write a version in the canon setting but I didn't want this to go to waste. I'm so grateful for @auraee for looking at the conclusion and giving me confidence. Big ups my g I think after this, I'm gonna redo my masterlist and then finally move on to another baby daddy of mine (I'm fighting between Haganezuka and Eren.) Also can you tell that I finally figured out how to indent texts? lmao

You sighed for the umpteenth time as you paced anxiously, your purple led lights drenching your room. Picking up your phone, you fiddled with the strings to your oversized black hoodie, a gift from your boyfriend. Your boyfriend, the exact reason why you felt so anxious for the past half hour. You were only relaxing in your room, music playing softly in the background from your T.V when you got the text. You went over the conversation on your phone as you sat on your bed.

KyoKyo: Hey, are you busy? You: Hey hey, naw what's up KyoKyo: Can I come over? You: Like- rn? I aint complainin but what's going on? KyoKyo: Yes, right now. I just can’t be at home rn You: aight just hurry up

You sighed once more as you sat your phone down, mind running through all the endless possibilities over what could make Kyojuro see you at this hour. He's done it before but only when your facetime calls or text messages became too steamy to only be left behind a screen. No, what made this time different and made your hairs stand on end was how formal he was when texting you. No emojis, nothing. A soft knock came to your window as your leg bounced.

You quickly made your way across the room to open it, a chill breeze rushing into your room. You stood to the side as Kyojuro clumsily climbed into your room, landing on his back when he fully entered. "Fuck!" He exclaimed, feeling intense pain shoot up his spine. You looked at him in complete worry as he kicked his sneakers off and closed the window and blinds. "Kyojuro, what on earth happened to you?" You asked in shock, soaking in his appearance.

Kyojuro's trademark mane was in a disheveled bun. His white shirt and gray sweatpants were decorated with blood spots, not too much to cause extreme concern but it was enough for you to assume the worst. His arms had bruises dancing on them, his knuckles dawning a crimson shade. He turned to face you, a disgruntled and annoyed expression taking over his usually cheery demeanor. You covered your mouth in silent shock as the condition of his face was revealed to you.

Dried blood rested at the corner of his mouth, a bloody nose and a black eye present on his visage. "Kyojuro what on earth happened to you?" You asked in shock as he silently walked over to your desk, searching through your designated snack drawers in your desk that he helped fill up a few days ago. "Kyojuro!" You shouted to get his attention.

"Can I borrow your lighter?" He asked gruffly, back still facing you as he dug deeper in the drawers. "That idiot Uzui took mine the other day and he won't give it back. He probably lost it or something." He pulled out your hot pink lighter as well as a couple of honey buns and tossed them on the bed before sitting down.

You sighed in defeat, accepting the fact that you wouldn't get any explanation as of now. "I'll be right back, I'm gonna get some bandages and stuff for you."

"Can you bring back some drinks too? I don't mind what kind." He called out to you as you exited the room.

"Yeah, sure whatever." You said softly as you closed the door behind you. Your brows furrowed as you made your way to the kitchen, wracking your brain on what to do and what happened. You've never had trouble dealing with Kyo's injuries, in fact they were pretty common when it came to them. Being friends with a cocky guy like Uzui would always come with a few fights from other people. However, Uzui would be with him right now so you could treat the both of them. Did..did he and his dad get into a fight? You shook your head as you let the pipe water from the sink fill a bowl with warm water. You felt slightly guilty for that question in your head, it was wrong to assume something so heavy about Kyojuro and his father. Although, it wouldn’t be too far fetched to think about it. Kyojuro informed you once that his dad was a bit of a hardass and that they were usually at odds, but you didn't think it would ever reach a level of violence.

You took out two water bottles from the fridge and placed them in the pockets of your sweatpants for extra hand space. You also took out a frozen bag of peas before shutting off the sink pipe. Taking a roll of bandages from the junk drawer and stuffing them into your hoodie pocket, you rubbed your forehead in thought. Gathering everything, you began to shuffle back to your room in deep thought. Whatever the case may be, Kyojuro would have to tell you. It wouldn't be like him to keep it from you forever.

Gritting your teeth, annoyance slowly started to seep into your veins as you thought back to the very short one-sided conversation you had with your boyfriend. You loved Kyojuro with your whole heart, you did, but you hated the moments when he was too deep in his own aggravation or excitement to pay you any mind or answer any questions you had. It wouldn't kill him to answer a simple question or even acknowledge your existence with a "Hey Babe" without you having to repeatedly call his name or shake him aggressively.

Entering your room, your eyes rested on the fresh pile of honey bun and chips wrappings that resided in your trash can, Kyojuro nowhere to be seen. You sighed softly as you walked in, resting the supplies on your desk and the water bottles on your pillows. The snacks were supposed to last you a month, but you couldn’t be upset over the majority of them falling victim to Kyojuro’s coping mechanism. With a click, your door opened again, revealing a shirtless Kyojuro, his face wet. "I had to wash my face real quick." He announced, -reminding you of a child telling his mother that he "frew" up in the wee hours of the night- as you pointed him to your bed, silently telling him to sit.

"So, can you finally tell me exactly what the hell happened to you?" You asked, handing him a washcloth to dry his face as he tossed his shirt to the side. A tired sigh released from his lips as he dried his face. He looked at you, incandescent eyes swimming with fatigue, anger…and sadness. Kyojuro pursed his lips as he looked around your room, silently indulging in the music that softly played.

"Oh, by the way, where are your parents? I realized that I was too loud climbing in-"

"They're gone for the weekend. Stop avoiding my questions and answer me, Kyojuro." You said bluntly, grabbing the washcloth from him and submerging it into the bowl of water before wringing it out. That was another thing you hated when it came to your boyfriend, despite being one to –albeit unknowingly– initiate awkward conversations with his lack of filter he could never really engage in them well. Kyojuro fished out a small container from his pocket, producing a joint from it. You took one of his hands and began to clean his knuckles as he lit the joint that rested in his mouth.

You watched him intensely as he took his time smoking, taking his other hand and repeating the cleaning process. "I got into a fight with my dad." He said matter-of-factly, eyes watching your hands work. You began to bandage his hands as he rested the joint on a nearby ashtray, your mind swimming with booming thoughts. So you were right, it finally happened. You were told by Kyojuro that things have been bad since his mom died but for it to go this far? Your mind redirected to Kyojuro's innocent little brother. Where the hell was he when this all happened? Did Kyojuro leave him behind?

"Wait, where's Senjuro? Don't tell me you left him behind at the house, Kyojuro." You inquired, quickly regretting it as Kyojuro's dark eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. He grunted and moved his hand away from your grasp harshly causing you to jolt.

"Jesus, y/n! Why the fuck would I do that to him?!" Kyojuro balled his fists but quickly relaxed them with a deep breath once he noticed your body go rigid. "I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell like that. He's spending the weekend at his friend's house. What's his name…uh, Tanjiro. Yeah, him and those two weird kids." He explained, taking another drag from the joint before offering it to you. You shook your hand and head, rejecting the offer. "I'd absolutely lose it if my dad tried fighting with Senjuro in the house, he doesn't deserve to witness it." He said softly as you tossed the pack of peas to him, placing it on his eye as he watched you tie your braids back into a ponytail.

"Sooo, what happened? Why did you guys fight?" You asked, grabbing a bandaid from your desk while internally calming your nerves. It was somewhat rare to see your boyfriend angry, even when it came to fights he was calm, so seeing him this way was a cause for concern. But, the slight fear wouldn’t stop you from listening to his woes and being there for him. Kyojuro laid back on the bed as he started to relax a bit more, eyeing your popcorn ceiling as he organized his thoughts into words. You took the joint from your boyfriend and placed it in the ashtray, watching his chest rise and fall.

"I don't really know how it happened, or rather how I pissed him off." He started, reaching for a stray honey bun on your bed as you climbed on the bed, sitting next to his muscular and bruised body. "All I did was go into his room and tell him that I ordered dinner ‘n that there was no more booze. I guess he got mad ‘cause of the simple fact that I disturbed his peace. God, y/n, it was as if I was fighting the devil himself. The most he's done when he's pissed is chuck his bottles at me, but never full on fight me." He paused his explanation to bite into the sweet treat, a soft “tasty” leaving his lips as his eyes stayed focused on the ceiling. You did your best to cover the scrape on his face with the bandaid, his chewing not stopping for you as you quietly soaked in his tale.

"I didn't know he was that shitty, Kyo.. ’m sorry. " You said softly, lost for words. How come he never told you this aspect of his life in full before? Even though your suspicions from earlier became true, you still couldn’t fully accept it. That would certainly explain why he never offered up his house as a hangout spot for you and his friends or a place for the two of you to have homedates, always opting for your house instead. That would also explain any random cuts and bruises he’d get and how he’d quickly dismiss it as a misadventure with his best friend. Kyojuro scoffed, turning his head to face you as he continued.

"Yeah, well, there's the truth. It was a messy thing, we traveled from his room to the hallway and after like five minutes..I just snapped." He said softly, eyebrows furrowing as he gingerly rubbed his bruised knuckles on your knee. "I fought back for a bit but in the end he had me pinned on the floor. And I just- stayed there and took it. I didn't get up from the floor until I heard him go back into his room and that's when I texted you." He picked up the joint again, bringing it to his lips that dawned a red cut. "And now here we are."

As soon as Kyojuro finished speaking, you felt a lump forming in your throat as tears glossed your eyes. This isn't fair. Not at all. You couldn't deny that Kyojuro was strong and powerful; always a pillar to those around him and certainly to himself. But hearing and seeing the torment your boyfriend went through made you want to hold him tight and cry. Kyojuro sat up quickly, eye wide in worry. "Oh please, y/n, don't cry. You don't have to cry on my behalf. I mean, look! Just a few scrapes and bruises!" He reassured, tossing the frozen peas to the floor as he stood up quickly.

As soon as he stood at his full height, searing pain attacked his spine, causing him to lean on the bed with a sharp inhale. "Kyo!" You said in worry, reaching out to help him sit back down. "Are you alright?!" You watched as he chuckled dryly, turning his back to you.

"My back..it's just a little tender, that's all." He said softly as you noticed the giant bruise on his back. You lightly touched it with your fingertips, eliciting a soft grunt from him as he winced. You sighed, getting up from the bed. "But I'll be fine, honest.."

"I think I have an ointment or cream for that in the bathroom, just lay on your stomach while you wait." You said, Kyojuro nodding and complying with your instructions. As quick as you left the room, you returned with the cream. You walked in on Kyojuro sitting up, drinking from one of the water bottles. He set both his water bottle and yours on the nightstand before lying back on his stomach, arms folded under his head. As you straddled his toned back, you made sure to not rest your hand on the bruise, worried to cause any more discomfort. As you rubbed the cream on your hands you gnawed at your bottom lip, figuring out a way to properly ask this question.

"…Kyo?" You said slowly as you began to rub the cream on his back, massaging it. A deep hum of relaxation and answer rumbled from his throat as you worked.

"Kyo, besides me, does anyone else know about, y'know all this?" You asked, working your fingers down to his lower back. Kyojuro shrugged his shoulders.

"I haven't told anyone but I don't doubt that Uzui has figured it out and just kept it under wraps." He answered softly, his answer ending with a soft groan as you kneaded the cream gently on the bruise.

"…Kyo?" You started up again. Another hum left his throat.

"How do you feel...about your dad? I mean, obviously you're angry at him right now. But how do you usually feel towards him?" You asked cautiously, hoping the question wasn't too sensitive. Kyojuro sighed.

"He stays out of my way and I stay out of his, that's all there is to it." He said gruffly, burying his head into the crook of his elbow.

"No, like, do you still care about him?" You clarified.

"Y/n, stop. You're pushing it."

"I'm just asking, Kyojuro. Do you even see him as a dad anymore? What about Sen-"

"Y/n, Please! Fuck man!" He yelled, voice muffled. You stopped and gently squeezed his shoulders, fear taking the reins of your mind again.

"S-sorry, babe. I just..wanted to know." You apologized with a shaky breath. Kyojuro reached out to your hand and squeezed slightly. You knew he didn’t mean to be so aggressive towards you, it was just the stress of the situation getting to him. But God, can he be one terrifying man.

"It's..fine. I just don't wanna talk about it anymore." He said softly as you positioned yourself next to him, head turned towards the unrest on his face. Fiery eyes stared back at you, indulging in your features from the two-toned lips to the dark lashes that framed your concerned yet loving eyes. “I’ll probably go back in the morning and just stay in my room.”

You nodded at his declaration as his eyes began to close, fatigue finally making its appearance on his battered face. You brushed a few free strands from his face as he sighed, your touch instantly relaxing him further. “Are you gonna use the peas or are you just gonna let them melt on my carpet and make me waste two bucks ’n change?” You asked softly with a giggle. A hum escaped from his throat, arm snaking around your waist pulling you closer.

“Let it melt. Let’s just stay here.”

ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ʙɪɴᴅ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴏᴛᴏꜰꜱᴛᴇᴡɪᴇ™ 2022

#rengoku x reader #rengoku x black reader #kyojuro rengoku #kny rengoku #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku angst #demon slayer angst #demon slayer x reader #original stew

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mygwenchan · 3 months

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What happend on June 11th?

So after ep10, I'll have to redo my time line a little bit:

June 10th:

Nant and Prom film the dog clip and the suicide clip at Hotel Harvey

There are two dog masks. Prom keeps his own mask after filming the clips. Meanwhile Nant could've given his mask to Nuth at any given time before that, so Nuth could wear it during the mask party

Nant took his laptop with him, which means Prom wasn't the one who threw it away. It might've been Nant himself

June 11th:

Nant has a video call with Nont, it's the last time the two of them talk to each other

Aob and a bunch of other guys arrive at Hotel Harvey. They're definitely doing something shady, because Aob doesn't want anyone to see the CCTV footage from that day. The hotel maid knows what's up!

Maybe Nuth is actually one of the guys at the hotel? There is a diary entry from him for June 11th after all...

Nant disappears

Now here starts my new speculation: Nant bit more off than he could chew when he decided to investigate Jason Lee. In the end, he had to make a run for it. On June 11th, Nant was on his way to his new hideout, but realized that he's being followed. He quickly discards of his laptop, hoping someone would find it, and then he gets caught and dragged into a van. Now where have we seen that scene before, hmm... 🤔 That's right! It could've all been similar to the fake kidnapping Soong and First roleplayed! And if you ask me, Soong was also the one who did the kidnapping this time. He put a bag or mask over Nant's head and off they went to hotel Harvey where the guys were already waiting. Jump and Teena were most likely present as well, but maybe they didn't recognize Nant because his face was covered. Maybe daddy Jason was there too. Then something bad happens, Nant definitely gets roughed up... in any case it's enough to make Soong, Jump and Teena want to quit their job at Playboyy, because "this time the boss went too far". And then Nant gets whisked away to an unknown location. He's probably made to act as Jason's new boy toy for the time being. That is until Jason has had enough of him and returns to Bangkok, thus Nant becomes useless and they force him to take an overdose and then dump his dead body in the woods.

Side note: The kidnapping of Nant and the missing CCTV footage from that day sounds like exactly the kind of thing First's father would use to blackmail Soong! Now of course that would mean the dad knows what happened to Nant, but he doesn't go to the police with it. Why? What if Jason and First's dad are actually friends?

#playboyy #playboyy the series #playboyy ep10 #gwen's watchlist

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atlurbanist · 1 month

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It's very telling that someone at the AJC instantly equated new people with new cars on the road.

And yet I don't see anyone at the AJC highlighting the relationship between car dependency and urban design, or calling for an end to unsustainable low-density sprawl.

Y'all need to speak up on this, local media. It can't just be the domain of amateur urbanists like me.

Sorry to be a downer but it's been a weird Atlanta news week for me. Two big projects I wasn't particularly excited about, the redo of Five Points Station and The Stitch, are full steam ahead.

I hope both of them prove my doubts to be wrong. But I seriously dislike the plan for Five Points which appears to be a very expensive lateral move. And it's going to cause closure of access to the station for 18 months starting in June. Better be worth it.

As for The Stitch, I accept that I'm probably in a minority in having serious doubts. It's definitely not where I would spend $150mil of federal money for improving Atlanta's urbanism.

If the Stitch ends up truly creating a great neighborhood space with affordable housing included, I'll be first in line to say "I was wrong" and applaud. But if, 15 years from now, Atlanta is the butt of an international joke because The Stitch was a bust and provided nothing but an incredibly expensive plaza and a couple of new hotels, I'll be pissed.

This has been an installment of Grumpy Old Man Shakes Fist at Sky. See you next time.

#atlanta #urbanism

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babybluebanshee · 1 year

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Things I've Had To Deal With As A City Librarian: I'm Just So Tired

Haven't done one of these in a while, and things have just been...they've been a time, let me tell you.

*We caught a guy hiding in one of the bathroom stalls after closing. We check the bathrooms to clean up any messes for the next day, and Julie knocked on the men's room door. No one answered, so she went in and checked the stalls. Didn't see any feet so she starts opening the doors. She gets to the handicap stall, and she tries to open it. It's locked. She mutters something about having to unlock it, and suddenly a voice from inside calls out, "Hey, I'm still in here." Julie nearly shrieks. The guy claims that his fly was stuck, but given the fact he didn't say anything when Julie came in and we couldn't see his feet under the stall door means he was probably crouched on the toilet, hoping we'd think the bathroom was empty and he could spend the night in the library.

*My coworker Allie did a cute little display in the kids area where you can write a letter to Curious George. She even made cardboard mailbox for it and put out a bunch of books and movies for people to check out. The amount of vandalism this thing has seen is unreal. One night a kid poked holes in the mailbox with a colored pencil. I was doing a walkthrough after a particularly rowdy family was in the kids area, only to discover that they have thrown everything on the display into the mailbox - the books, the movies, the postcards, the coloring materials, even one of the book stands. We spent about ten minutes fishing everything out.

*Speaking of displays, I did the Black History Month one this year. I worked on it for three months, and to be honest, I was very proud of it. It took up two tables, full of historical events and famous figures of black history. Needless to say, since black history is so damn expansive and my space was limited, a lot of people ended up getting left off (especially local people I'd never learned about). The amount of times people told me I left out a person they personally believed should be on it drove me to distraction. Two separate people told me I missed Kamala Harris (which I'll be kicking myself forever about). One woman asked me why I didn't redo the whole display to add one local figure she thought needed to be included. One woman asked me why she herself was not included one the poet's wall, because she was a published author. No, she was not kidding. I guess I should be thrilled that people were actually interacting with it, but at least a few people telling me I did a good job would have been fucking nice.

*To branch off from the black history month display - the city has an anti-discrimination policy when it comes to people reserving rooms for events. The only thing we explicitly do not allow is social events like parties and anyone attempting to sell something; everything else is fair game. This means we get a lot of obnoxious groups whose views we really, really do not agree with - homeschoolers, churches, conservative clubs, and, my personal favorite, the Sons of the Confederacy. Or as Rachel and I like to call them, The Sons of a Bunch of Loser Piss Babies. They had a meeting there during February, and Rachel was working that day. One of them, in his stupid little gray hat, was standing talking to someone...right next to my black history month display. Rachel told me she wanted to take a picture because the juxtaposition was...stark, to say the least. We're really not that surprised Failfuck McStank didn't notice the irony.

*We've had a guy coming in with his guitar and just...hanging out in the study rooms to play. We can't really do anything about it unless he's too loud or someone actively complains, but we're all kind of puzzled about the library being his first choice of places for a jam session.

*There's a pair of teenage girls that have been coming in for about four months now and their punk vibe is immaculate. The first time I ever saw them, one of them had a giant bleach blond mohawk, a leather jacket with studs, hot pink and black striped stockings, and the most badass combat boots I've ever seen. Her friend had a bleach blond buzzcut, a black jean jacket covered in patches, teal leggings, and red converse that were falling apart. Sherri stumbled on them chilling in the kids area, and noticed the buzzcut one was bent over something. She got closer and realized the kid was knitting a scarf. Mohawk comes in more often, and always has a thick book with her, just lounging in the chairs and quietly reading for a few hours. They're my second favorite patrons and hope they never change.

*A woman was interested in attended my classic book club meeting back in June. We were reading Fun Home by Alison Bechdel, so I gave her a copy. She didn't attend the meeting. She returned the book a few days later and said it was "gross". While she was there, she also picked up her inter library loan of a "romance" novel about a woman falling in love with her abusive stepbrother. I'm all for people reading whatever the fuck they want, but I also feel like if you're gonna read stepsibling porn, you don't get to call lesbian comics gross.

*Two women came in with a little boy who was absolutely bouncing off the walls. They did absolutely nothing to control him - one of them was busy talking to someone on her phone (on speaker till someone complained), the other was perusing the shelves - and the kid was just kind of running around being a nuisance. I was walking back from helping someone in the computer lab and saw the kid taking off his shirt. I told him he had to keep his shirt on, and that's when one of the women finally turned to me and said, "He wants to put his Spider-Man costume on." And I'm like, "Lady, that's great, but you're in a public space, not your living room. Have him change in the bathroom." Luckily they didn't hang around long after that, but fucking hell, the entitlement.

*A woman came in to fax a police report to her lawyer, and Sherri and I ended up being privy to the sordid tale of having her car stolen. She was out with a guy she met on Tinder, and they went to a bar in the next town over. They were getting ready to leave, but she wanted to have a cigarette, so they were standing by her car in the parking lot. Suddenly, three police cars come shooting up, right next to them. Turns out the dude she's with has a warrant out for his arrest. He panics, grabs her keys out of her hand, jumps in the car, and fucking peels away. He ended up crashing it into a ditch less than ten miles away, totaling it. She doesn't even know what warrant was for.

*It's very funny whenever I call anyone for reserve reminders or things like that, because people are so used to getting calls from robots and scammers that they're immensely suspicious any time they answer their phone. And it makes the absolute 180 they do into delighted toddlers, excited to get their books, that much funnier. The scenario usually goes like this:

Me: Hi, is this [insert name]?

Patron: *clearly doing the suspicious Fry face* Yeeeees...

Me: This is Blue, at the library! I was just calling to let you know you have a book on reserve ready for pick up!

Patron: *brightening instantly* OMG thank you! Oh, I'm so glad you called! You've made my day, you guys are wonderful!

Never fails to make me chuckle.

*The assistant librarian is in charge of a lot of the teen programs we do, and by far the most popular are her teen book boxes - the kids fill out a form of stuff they enjoy, and she puts together a box of three books, plus crafts and snacks, for them. On average, she does about twenty of them a month. However - because we are located in the heart of Conservative Brainrot Land, where a not insignificant portion of the population thinks if they're a good little conservative who hates what Fox News tells them to, Tucker Carlson will come give them the hug their dad never did - this has also given us great insight into the minds of ultra controlling parents who would encase their kids in wax if that could keep them from learning things they don't want them to. One particularly baffling example started with a mom asking that no "social justice" be included in the box. The next one asked for "no gender identity". This time? No inclusion. Like...I get why she put that. Because inclusivity = woke = liberal = the devil. But like...do these people hear themselves? Do they know what words mean? Also, I told the AL that she should just give the kid an empty box. She did not follow my advice.

*On the flip side of the crazy, controlling parent thing, y'all remember this family from a while ago? The one where the aunt came in and said Pretty Little Liars had opened a satanic portal that drove her niece to a mental hospital? Well, I'm happy to report that I think the mother of that girl might have had a face turn. The same kid just recently returned several books from the Anita Blake series (which are pretty mature as far as sexuality goes), and she's been in talks with the AL to volunteer for us, informing her that she doesn't know her schedule just yet because her mother is letting her start public school. I like to think the mom looked at that whole situation, took a long, hard look at herself in the mirror, and thought, "Ya know what? I don't think I want to be like this anymore. I think this is a problem." And ya know what? Good for her, and good for that girl. I hope it does them both a world of good.

#woe to the librarian #the conservative brain rot is starting to leech into my professional life #and i'll be here to report on it every chance i can

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xotaemintol · 1 year

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𝘛𝘢𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘒𝘪𝘮 𝘑𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯 𝘹 𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 “𝘈 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘸”

Word count: 3280

Part: 1/2

Pronouns used: She/Her

No TWs (for now) ENJOY!

Gif by: dazzlingkai

▁▂▃▅▆▓▒░✩ ✩░▒▓▆▅▃▂▁

It was the last two days before the end of your trip in Seoul, your best friends had every day planned out but the last two because everyone expected to be out of commission from a week-long of activities, but fortunately, everyone was still on their toes and ready to experience more, and unfortunately, no one had planned or looked into anything other than what you've already done, and no one wanted to redo anything for the last two days, Hell no, that would be too boring. So your best friends suggested a nightclub they saw when taking you home a night ago, they said that it was an adult-only club and that it looked pretty interesting.

Now you were going to turn it down since clubbing with the two of them, is usually them trying to set you up, getting too drunk to do so, and then you babysitting, but the thought that you'd probably never get to go to an adult-only nightclub in Korea without them anyway, you jumped to agree saying: "fuck yeah! Let's go tonight!" And just like that, the three of you began getting ready, you spent the next five hours getting ready, showering, listening to music, dancing, helping each other with your outfits and makeup, and even giving each other tips on flirting and things to avoid. "If you sit a cup down and walk away, then that drink is?" Your best friend asks loudly, you and Gennie laugh and say in sync: "Not yours!" She laughs and nods her head while high-fiving you both, "Good job!" She says, "And if any guys offer you a drink, only take it if he's fine and looks like he could fuck good."

You playfully hit her shoulder while laughing, "Only take it if you saw it getting made, don't just take it if he's fine" You say, playfully correcting her, she laughs and brushes you off while slipping her glittery purple pumps on, "yeah well if a fine man with nice hair and a pretty smile offers me anything, he better be offering head with it..." Gennie says in a joking tone, you put your hand on your hip and look at her as she leans on your shoulder for support while putting on her sliver glittery strapless heals, "you and head...I'll never get it." You shake your head and click your tongue, Lisa laughs and pats your shoulder while leaning down to adjust her heel with her other hand, "that's because your ex couldn't give it."

Gennie snickers and high-fives her as she stands up, they laugh together, making jokes about how your ex was too scared of eating you out because he wasn't good at it. "You remember when we walked in on them and he was trying to figure out where the hole was?!" They both practically scream while cackling at your embarrassing ex, you don't mind though. They never mean any harm, so you laugh along a little. "Okay! Okay! Enough! Both your exes had shitty stroke game anyways so let's relax!" They both gasp and laugh, "at least he knew how to eat it." They walk away while bumping hips with satisfied grins on their faces, you roll your eyes with a smile while sitting down to put on your glittery red heels.

"Oh shit! Our cab is here!" Gennie says, you curse and rush to adjust the strings on your heels, tying them up to your thighs as Lisa grabs your purse and her own. "Everyone got everything they need?" You all nod, "Chargers?" You nod, "Pepper spray?" Again you nod, "GPS?" You nod again, "Phones?" After making sure everyone had all of their things for safety, you rush out of the hotel, the lobby was just becoming active again since most of the people were coming in from parties around the tourist areas, as you walk through the lively lobby, you can feel their eyes on you, and hear their whispers as you pass them by. You can't blame them though, you look good.

As the three of you get into your cab you thank the driver and start to talk amongst yourselves.

JONGIN POV

The place is as busy as always, the main lobby is full of drunk men and women flirting, dancing, making out, and hooking up with anyone who even looked their way. It's kind of gross, how they just fuck anyone who lays eyes on them but who am I to judge? My whole job is making people want to fuck me with just one look, even still I prefer being in the V.I.P section. Not only is it more tolerable because of the lack of loud yelling, horny drunks, and heavy lights; but it's also the best place to flirt with desperate girls who come in to find a perfect boyfriend.

It's always the same too, locals come in the most, with foreigners being a rare occurrence, but they're all alike. They see me after I've finished a show and offer to buy me drinks, they play shy and ask me about why I work here, as if they give a shit, and ask me if they could have a dance. That's when I start to reel them in, I flirt a little, give them a little tease and let them get a small taste of touching me. Now of course, I don't do anything sexual besides dancing with them, but its enough to drive them wild, the locals love to feel me up while I dance on them, and even though it's not enjoyable for me, I love the way they go crazy over me and I used to love how their friends would hype them up, and how they'd squeal shyly with their faces turning red from the heat, but I can't help but crave something different.

"Yo! Kai!" I look over my shoulder seeing Taemin coming from one of the VIP rooms, his body is covered in glitter and his hair is messy, "You'll never guess who's here tonight" he says, I immediately roll my eyes as I realize what he's going to say. "Jungkook?" He nods and laughs while patting my chest, "and your regulars are eating him up," I roll my eyes again and shrug. It's not that I don't get along with Jungkook, he's a pretty cool dude and all, but he takes a lot of my regulars when I'm on break or out sick, and even though it keeps business buzzing, I can't help but feel competitive and possessive over my regulars.

They've spent thousands of dollars on me, some have spent four thousand in one night just to get me to dance on her with only my underwear on; so when he comes in and steals them while I'm away, it gets under my skin more than it should. "Of course he is..." I sigh and shake my head, although it bothers me I can't help but laugh. I feel happy for him actually, he has a girlfriend who is open to the idea of him working here and customers know yet they still throw their money at him for a chance to have one night with him. "Good for him, they pay a lot" Taemin laughs and shoves me a little, "Yeah I know," he says, "That chick that came in last night looking for you spent six grand to spend four hours with me."

I shake my head and scoff a little, it's so shameful how these women would throw their life savings away for a chance with us. No matter how attractive or attracted to a person I am, I'd never do what they do. "Oh..." Hitting my arm Taemin points towards the entrance, "I've never seen them before" he motions to a group of three girls walking into the main area, my eyes follow them as they stand together, right away I get that sudden feeling of excitement, the one I haven’t felt in years. "They look good,” he says, I nod, eyeing them more as they laugh, they all look amazing, they’re so eye catching, especially the one in the red dress, her hair is decorated with jewels and shells, her blood-red dress is short and low cut with a subtle shine to it, and her heels make her legs look amazing. The glitter makes doesn’t even begin to take away from the glow of her beautiful brown skin, and the strings pressing into her thighs make her look so soft.

"The one in the red...she looks so good," I say, she smiles, I can see her laughing at something one of her friends said as she hits her shoulder. Dear god, she's so beautiful, the way her two toned lips curl into a cute smile, and her brown eyes sparkle makes me feel weak in the knees, good god, I’ve never seen a woman so beautiful. As they pay for their tickets the urge to talk to her becomes too strong to ignore, so I turn to Taemin and say: "Let's go talk to them" Taemin clicks his tongue and looks at me, I can tell he has the same idea as me, just from the way he slowly tore his eyes away from them and put them on me, I know he has his eyes on her too "Why? You want to burn their pockets too?" He asks, unlike Jungkook and I, Taemin doesn't usually play dirty when it comes to getting women to throw their wallets and lives at him, he knows how I am, and usually I'd be quick to empty the pockets of a foreign woman, but she's different, I don’t care about her money, I just want her. “No no no, I mean let’s talk to them,” I clarify quickly, “this isn’t work related.”

Taemin laughs, “okay fine,” he high fives me and shakes his head, “but remember,” he looks at me and raises his eyebrows, “sharing is caring.” I laugh and nod, “if she thinks so too,” Finally, we begin to approach them, I make sure to adjust my red jacket, although there's no shirt underneath but I at least want to look nice, I can’t let her slip away.

THIRD PERSON POV

As Gennie is given her access to the main floor pass, you look around at the room, it's split into four different sections but the last is more closed off. The first is the room you are in now, the entrance which was right next to the main floor, it had the bar, lights, and seating, then there was the dance floor, there was a giant disco ball glowing in the middle with streamers hanging from the ceiling, and lights flickering and flashing with thick smoke covering the floor. And the last area you could quite see since it was more closed off, "You ready Y/N?" You smile and look at Lisa saying: "Of course I am!" She laughs and grabs her phone out of her purse, "I should take a picture before we go, so I can log the night you finally get laid by a guy who knows how to fuck."

You laugh and playfully hit her shoulder, "Stop being embarrassing!" She laughs and takes a picture of the two of you, she puckers her lips and squeezes your face softly, “you’re so cute,” she says after taking the picture, you smile and push her away playfully, “you’re so embarrassing,” you say jokingly, “how am I supposed to get laid if you act like this?” Lisa gasps and bumps you softly, “what? You’re actually thinking about it?!” You shush her and look around a little, while muttering: “maybe…” they both squeal and laugh, as Gennie begins to talk about how she’s excited for you to experience the pleasures of a man who only wants to make you feel good, you awkwardly listen, you weren’t awkward because of what she saying, but because you could feel eyes on you again, you know it's a night club so most people are going to be looking to hook up and will watch the entrance for potential partners, but it felt like you were being undressed, it made you shudder a little.

“Excuse me,” you jump as a slightly deep voice comes from behind you, right away the three of you turn around, your eyes go wide as a tall, attractive, tan man wearing a red suit with nothing under it stands in front of you, with an equally attractive man wearing black by his side. "I couldn't help but notice you from across the room," The taller one says, his accent is thick and heavy but his English is fluent and good enough for you to understand, "I can't imagine that you're here to sit in the main room, are you?" He asks, the three of you stand in silence while staring at the pair. To say that they were attractive was an understatement, the one in red had beautiful thick, red lips, gorgeous golden skin, pretty black hair, and sharp eyes with a sharp jawline to match.

Just looking at him made you feel shy, sure you’ve seen attractive men before, you aren’t new to things like that, but he’s so unreal, it’s like he was made by God’s hands personally, and the man standing next to him looked angelic yet sinful at the same time, you head almost spins as you look at him, where do men like this come from? His thick pink lips paired with his fair skin, sharp eyes, and prominent collar bones made him look like something out of a movie, and the look in his eyes, it’s so intense and intimidating, yet enticing at the same time, just from one look you feel butterflies in your stomach. Good lord, he’s so attractive, your knees feel weak as he grins, it’s almost like he can tell just how captivated you are by his looks, you look away shyly, feeling even more embarrassed from looking at him.

"Yeah, it’s our first time here, so we didn’t really know where to go,” Lisa speak up, already from her tone you can tell she has a plan up her sleeve, and you don’t blame her, you’re just curious as to which one she’s plotting to set you up with tonight. If you could, you’d take both. “Oh? Then how about you come to the V.I.P section with us?” The one with blond hair says, you look back at him again, his eyes are fixed on you for a second before he looks away slowly, “really? But we don’t have passes,” Gennie says, the one in red looks at you, his expression is blank yet telling, his lips curl at the ends into a toe curling grin as you look at him from the corner of your eyes, your legs feel like jelly. “That’s fine,” you hold eye contact, not really listening as they speak, “we work here so, you can come for free,” finally you look back at the other male, your eyes focus on his lips since his eyes are too much. “And don’t worry about trying to pay us back, just enjoy yourselves,” you can’t help but feel like he’s talking to you as he smiles.

“Well, if you say so,” Lisa agrees right away, not wasting a second to take the offer, “great, follow us.”

JONGIN POV

As Taemin and I lead the three girls back to the VIP section they whisper behind us, I grin a little as I make out them saying: "I want them both." And "which one do you think gives better head?" Although all three of them are beautiful, I hope that the one in red was the one saying that, the way she looked at me tells me she’s interested, but the way she looked at Taemin tells me she’s deciding who she wants to spend the night with more, hopefully she’s open minded. As we reach a table in the far back of the deep purple and black room they stop and sit down, with the other two sitting on the opposite side of the table from the one in the red, right away I can tell that those two might have a boyfriend while the one in the red, might be single and being set up by the others. As Taemin and I sit on opposite sides of her she shudders and closes her legs tight, I can't help but grin as I imagine that she must be nervous being sandwiched between us.

"So what're your names?" The one in the purple asks that's right, we never did tell them our names. Usually, people who come in know right away, they usually come for Taemin, Jimin, Jungkook, and me, so I never have to introduce myself, "I'm Taemin", "And I'm Kai." They smile and glance at the girl between us with grins on their faces, "I'm Lisa, that's Gennie, and the beauty between you two is Y/N." Y/N? God that's a beautiful name. I lick my lips and lean against the wall of the booth, I try my best not to glance down as her thigh presses into mines, "So I'm guessing you are here on a trip?" I ask, they all nod and avoid eye contact, "What brings you here?" Taemin asks while throwing his arm over Y/N slyly.

I notice right away how she bites her lip to hold back her smile, even though Taemin is making a move this is still a good sign for me, "We were just passing by yesterday when Y/N go too drunk and saw this place," Gennie says while laughing, I smile and watch as Y/N pouts and whines, she’s so cute… “I was just fine! And it was your fault anyways!" She says, she sounds so cute and her whiny tone is so adorable, it's almost unbelievable how she's completely grabbed my attention like this, I can't help but be captivated by her beauty and her pretty voice, and now that I’m closer, the smell of her is just as capturing as her looks. "Speaking of, would you like any drinks?" Taemin asks, they all nod and reach for their wallets, but I stop them with a smirk on my face. "It's on us," I say, "don't worry."

I can feel Y/N shiver next to me as she bites her lip trying to hide her smile again, god I haven’t felt this weak in so long, if all I had to do was pull out my wallet to see her make that face, I’d be dirt poor in a day, "Are you sure? I mean we made sure to bring enough for drinks and-" I put my hand up and stop Lisa while shaking my head, "don't worry, it's fine I promise" Taemin waves over a bartender and gives the names of a few simple drinks, luckily he orders drinks with less alcohol in them than the others, not knowing rather of not she’s a light weight, I wouldn’t want to flirt with her if she was drunk "just see it as a thank you for bringing such a pretty girl with you," as I lean back and look at Y/N her friend's squeal, but she doesn't react.

YOUR POV

"Just see it as a thank you for bringing such a pretty girl with you." As he says this Gennie and Lisa squeal and kicks their feet under the table, he leans back, his arm resting over the back of the booth while he lays the other on the table and looks at me with a smirk on his face. If I could I'd jump out of my clothes now to have him, but I didn't know how to react, I've never had someone so attractive come on to me like this before, to outwardly call me pretty instead of complimenting all of us at once, and his body language; both of theirs. They keep their bodies close and glance at me often, and the heat coming off of their body, it's making me feel hot myself. If they keep this up, I’ll leave with both of them. "T-Thank you..." Kai laughs, his laugh gives me butterflies.

God, I’m gonna scream.

THIRD PERSON

Kai laughs playfully, it's such a beautiful and deep laugh, it shakes you to your core as you discreetly squeeze your legs together more. "You don't have to be shy," he says, "I don't bite unless you beg..." Your eyes widen and Taemin laughs beside you along with your friends, but his laugh is more like Kai's like their in on some type of secret, "Don't worry angel, he's just joking" He says, "Kai here, is a sucker for pleasing women just for being as beautiful as you are." You nervously laugh and shuffle in your seat a little, you aren't uncomfortable; just caught off guard. "You say that like you aren’t too,” Kai rebuttals, Taemin shrugs and cross his legs while looking at you, “could you blame me?” You laugh again, trying to ignore the soft throb between your legs from the sudden drop in his tone, a chill runs down your spine as Kai’s leg brushes against yours and you shiver, “Okay now boys, not too much," Gennie says in a stern tone, "while she appreciates the compliments, don't go overboard."

Lisa nods, "let's all just get to know each other a little first," She says, "okay?"

After two hours of talking Gennie and Lisa were eight drinks deep and talking to a friend of Kai and Taemins; Jungkook, he had come over after noticing the three of you and after Kai pulled him aside he focused his attention on the two of them, while you; were sitting in between Kai and Taemin with your glass half full. You have only had two drinks and were still sober, and so were they, so as they softly spoke to you, you weren’t at all worried that they were only flirting with you because they were drunk. Your friends hadn’t really noticed though, not even when Kai whispered in your ear to compliment you, or when Taemin gently grabbed your chin and turned your head towards him so he could ‘see your eyes better’, you were glad though, because even though your friends are stuck on helping you get laid, they aren’t the best wing men possible, so with them distracted, you could relax into the provocative energy from Taemin and Kai comfortably.

"You know, it's feeling a little crowded down here," Kai says with his hand on your bare shoulder, “what do you think Taemin?" You look over to Taemin and he grins with his lips puckered while nodding in agreement, "yeah it is..." he licks his lip and places his hand on your upper thigh. "You get some more space, angel?" You look up at him with wide curious eyes, the soft throbbing becomes so strong that your legs clench together, are they being serious? "And have a little more privacy?" Kai does the same and you snap your head over at him, the grin on his face makes you want to scream from frustration, as Taemin leans into your shoulder you sit conflicted, your u friends were too drunk and busy flirting helplessly with Jungkook to notice, and you didn't want to leave them with some random guy but you also didn't want to pass on being alone with the two of them.

"So?" Taemin says as he grabs your face gently, making you look at him as your lips pucker, your eyes lock on his right away as your stomach starts to swirl with heat, "you wanna private show baby?" Kai asks.

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