#(though that may simply be due to me not being good enough yet. at my age I guess closer to not good enough ever?)

[72stars]

RH: Prometheus Clark head/face rough design and a doodle of him with Jason (disclaimer: not ship art). Uncle C always there to lend comfort and to help your older brother try to gently drag you out of lethal anti-herodom, what a guy

[novy2sirius]

BRUTALLY HONEST NUMEROLOGY

⬫ lower vibrational vs high vibrational

⬫ note: most of the negative things you’re reading are only applicable to lower vibrational people (people who are consistently at a lower vibration due to their actions). these things of course will not apply to everyone as all your numerical energies play an importance in you and your life experiences do as well

⬫ tw: porn (18+ only), divorce, abandonment

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ the real compatibility of astrology signs lies in the numerology. everyone goes by elements, but i’m sure anyone who has met people and examined enough dynamics between signs can tell that it’s just not accurate with the “fire is compatible with air and earth is compatible with water” bs. the two most compatible signs based on numerology that are soulmates are capricorn and sagittarius’. sag season starts 1122 and capricorn season starts 1221. this is one of the many reasons why. it may be confusing for numerology newbies, but i can explain it in depth in another post eventually

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ i don’t think 7’s are good lovers unless they’re 16’s usually. i’m sorry, like i said these are honest.. it’s the same way i feel about strong aquarius energy in an astrology chart. they just don’t know how to put others first, be thoughtful, or be in a relationship in general. usually the men, sorry. they have a tendency to fall weak to any sexual behavior they’re surrounded by. i’ve witnessed many of my friends (even 11’s who are quite compatible with 7’s) get heartbroken by these 7 men because the second a pick me girl tries to get with them while they’re in a relationship, they don’t even try to have self discipline and be loyal. they’re just pervs usually or narcissistic and will find a way to always make you feel as though everything is your fault even though they’re the ones that don’t put effort into relationships. they tend to be better independent. 7 is known as the number of “the loner” for a reason. i don’t think they’re all literal “loners”, but they operate better alone than with others

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ i have never had good experiences with people that have prominent 19 energy (one of the unreduced 1’s). it could just be that most people with it have lots of negative past life karma, so it’s indicative they have not been a good person in recent past lives. i also believe it has to do with the home environment they often grow up in though. many people that i’ve met with this energy have unbalanced emotional energy simply because they grew up in a chaotic household and now they don’t know how to control their anger or other emotions. 1’s in general sometimes don’t know how to. however, i don’t think any number can directly cause someone to be a bad person, that’s ridiculous. just like with astrology, it does not make you do anything. i’m sure there is people with 19 energy that are good people out there, i just have not yet met any unfortunately. i’ve also noticed they have big ego’s.. like jojo siwa born on the 19th for example. she comes off very cocky and tries to act like it’s just sexy confidence like other women, but it really comes off like a cocky white man instead, which also makes sense with 1 being the number of masculinity and 9 being the number of the ego. to be fair it’s an intense number to have, but these people can be egotistical and just mean as hell sometimes. i will add something good to this since this was a very harsh take. these people can have things come back to them super duper fast, so if they put their energy toward positive things then they can attract better into their life then they’ve gotten in the past

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ i have yet to meet someone with 25 energy who isn’t a hoe or hasn’t been a huge one at some point. as we know, 2 doubles the energy of the number it’s next to and 5 is the number of sex. this creates lots of sexual energy in people with this number. they tend to also run the porn industry and only fans industry. an example is lana rhoades who was the number one porn star in the world for a while. she was born in 1996 which adds to 25 (1+9+9+6=25). also i do not want to see 13 year olds commenting “i’m not a hoe”. i would hope not, you’re a child..

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ almost everyone with 14 energy in their birthday has had a person in their family abandon them as 14 is related to abandonment. often people with this energy always have divorced parents as well or had a parent leave them when they were really young unfortunately. a good thing about this number though is it can create a very self disciplined energy in someone and cause them to not need others to thrive in the way other numbers do

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ people with 9 energy (especially 27) will accuse you of doing the shitty things that they’re doing when they’re lower vibrational and gaslight you. i would say this number is one of the worst gaslighters. my friends and i have had such bad experiences with the lower vibrational people with it that we literally refer to it as “the number of gaslighting”. they also will never let go of things. even if you got into one tiny fight they will hold things against you forever and don’t know how to forgive and move on. however, i also have met people with 27 energy that aren’t immature in this way and are very intelligent

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ people with 3 energy are the absolutely worst secret keepers. do not tell them your secrets. it’s the number of communication and gossip. as much as some of them hate to admit it they love drama. they’re fun to hang out with though and often the life of the party

[lilacxquartz]

part 3 of 19 of kinktober: power imbalance

levi ackerman x reader

plot: after one too many dress code violations, captain levi has simply had enough — themes: authority figure, smut, abuse of power, noncon/dubcon, f!reader — w.c: ~1.5k

kinktober masterlist • main masterlist • ao3

Standing outside of the captain’s office, you nervously leaned against the wall with your eyes locked on the door. You were in trouble again; very likely for violating the uniform code yet again.

When he finally let you in at long last with an eerily calm “you may enter” heard from within, you nervously stepped inside. His sharp steel eyes cut right through you, narrowing at the sight of your loosely fitted harness.

“Unacceptable,” Levi scoffed, giving you a quick glance over, “this is the third time this week.”

You stammered in retaliation, clearly embarrassed, “I-I’m so sorry captain, I’ll fix that right away—“

“—no need,” the captain replied, cutting you off, “clearly all of these reminders aren’t working for you. Maybe a… different sort of punishment… is needed?”

“Come again?” you blinked in slight confusion, unable to get a good read on him. It was admittedly difficult due to his stoic and closed off demeanour.

Taking a few steps forward and pinching at the cuff of your regiment jacket, Levi spoke up in a cold tone while trailing his hand towards the centre, “Firstly, you might as well not even wear the uniform,” he murmured, using both hands now to pull it off your arms, “you won’t learn from my eternal scolding, so maybe I just need to take a different approach with you.”

“Captain please,” you fretted but he quickly drew a finger to your lips before you could protest any further.

“You’ll be quiet for the lesson,” he hushed you, unbuckling the shoddy attempt of a fastened harness, dropping it to the floor along with the white trousers that followed.

You stood frozen in the middle of his office—with your trousers pulled down—praying to the walls that nobody would stroll inside, watching as Levi took a step back to rummage through a nearby shelf.

Once he was back, he seemed to be holding onto a roll of rope that he was slowly in the process of unwinding. “I’ll teach you just how tight the harness is supposed to stay on…”

You took a sharp gulp as the prospect of humiliation looked over you; quickly being met with the bristling fibres caressing the smooth skin of your thighs. The rope was constricting enough to feel a perpetual sort of discomfort.

You wanted to pipe up again and ask if this was really necessary, but if there was one thing you knew about Levi Ackerman, was that he was stubborn when it came to proving a point.

So your complaints might as well be spoken to a brick wall, since he wasn’t going to budge.

Stepping back at last, he seemed satisfied with the display. “That is the exact way, the exact tightness that you’re supposed to wear it on.”

“But sir, it’s uncomfortable,“ you let slip a protest anyway.

“It’s there for your safety, cadet,” Levi reminded you in a stern tone, “a loose fit harness is a death sentence out there on the field.”

“I guess…” you admitted as you trailed off, you technically knew that but there hadn’t been any incidents lately so you let loose for once, “I learned my lesson though, so I’ll just put everything back on and be on my way—“

“—not so fast,” Levi interrupted you, catching your attention before you had a chance to slip away. “I didn’t even dismiss you yet. Maybe you also need a lesson in following orders, huh?”

With a resigned sigh, you braced yourself for what this could possibly mean. “Sorry, I didn’t think….”

“Funny you should say that,” he scoffed, walking up right behind you and pushing you forward so that you were guided towards his desk, “considering your entire job is to listen and to take in commands,” he added, pressing your back forward, making your chest kiss the polished oak table, “and that very much includes from me.”

“I’m sorry captain, I’ll do better—“ you backtracked, quickly realising the error of your ways.

“—yeah, you will,” Levi interrupted you for the second time during this whole exchange, “because you’re going to follow them right now.”

Before you could say anything, he pinched the fabric of your underwear by the hem on either side before slowly pulling it off of you. Such an action caused you to freeze, wondering exactly what was going on right now. You seemed to have an idea where it was going however given that his actions didn’t stop there.

Levi’s hands felt calloused against your skin, his flesh meeting with yours like rugged stone against silk. He pressed his hips tight against your form; the close contact making you slightly recoil but also shudder with heated anticipation.

“First lesson,” he muttered under his lips, “you’re going to be quiet for me, got it?”

With a brisk motion, you hurriedly nodded as you adhered to his command. You didn’t want to admit it, but there was something oddly arousing about the situation he had you in, despite it being very, very much wrong.

Albeit involuntarily, your body reacted to his sweeping touch with the slight arch of your back, inviting him to take control of the situation even further.

Ever so carefully, Levi slid his fingers right behind you and against your sex, feeling a wave of heated surprise flood within him when he realised how nice you felt to his touch. He pressed two pointed digits together and prodded at your soaked entrance, taking the plunge and easing his touch to reach inside.

Levi hummed to himself, as though pleasantly surprised, by how easily you took him in. “You’re so wet. Are you… enjoying this?”

However, you didn’t dare to reply out of pure and utter embarrassment rising from deep within you. While it was true that something about this situation was surely turning you on, you couldn’t possibly admit such a thing. Instead, you bit at your lip in an attempt to stifle away a gasping breath that threatened to escape too early, before he even got started—if he would at all.

With a hint of slight amusement evident in the air, Levi began to lazily pump his fingers in and out of your cunt. The languid motions were frustratingly teasing, barely doing enough to bring you over the edge and then, without a warning, he withdrew them. You remained silent for a moment, quickly realising that from the faint rustle of his clothing dropping and his own loosening harness, that the lesson was in fact far from over.

Leaning in his still clothed form over yours wherever he could reach, he drew his hand forward to pull at your hair, closing it into a tight fist with the strands ensnared. “Remember, not a single sound.”

Barely given a chance to nod or say anything at all in return, you were locked into stunned silence as you felt him position the tip of his throbbing length against your sex; entering you with less patience than when his fingers teased at you. Inch by inch, he eased his cock to be fully enveloped by your core, shuddering out rolling, raspy breaths from how good your pussy felt.

Levi then began to move, rocking his hips at a purposeful pace; each thrust pushing in as deep as he could reach while in between your legs. Each rutted slam sent waves of rising pleasure sweeping across your body—pushing the simmering tension further and further up towards the surface—reaching a near boiling peak.

From a festering, almost scalding heat that settled within the confines of your body, you especially felt the ropes on your body now. Sweat gathered at the coarse fibres, rubbing raw at your legs in an almost painful way. You continued to try and keep quiet as he pounded into you, but both the pain and the sensation of being filled alike, elicited an untamed moan to escape from your lips.

Sensing that you were close, Levi picked up the momentum in increasing, almost feverish fervour. His hands clenched around your hips to keep himself steadily locked around your frame, bringing both you and himself to an almost violent impending orgasm.

Feeling the tingling heat begin to coil and and tighten in your body, finally washing away like a blissful radiating heat—your body stuttered in warm desire. As you finally came undone, you melted flat over the desk, panting out strained gasps as Levi too, released himself into you with a deep, final thrust.

Levi found himself leaning into you to catch his breath after; his body entangled in your limbs as you both shuffled around to steady one another. A silent exchange passed between the two of you before he finally helped you get up.

With a grunt, he finally broke the quiet tension, “I’ll trust that you’ll behave yourself now?”

Despite feeling worn out from the intense exchange, you managed to yawn out a reply, “Of course, captain.”

Although it was very much clear from the sultry tone in your voice that such a promise was in fact a lie and Levi might in fact see you again very, very soon.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Various CRPs x Reader who knew then before their incidents

Prize request 3/5 for @coldsushisworld ! I hope you enjoy!

Characters in this post: Jeff, Puppeteer, Eyeless Jack, Masky and Ben Drowned

Notes: Reader is GN! Some of these may be shorter or vaguer than others but that's simply because my brains is a little foggy on the details of things!

CW: Mentions of suicide in Puppeteers part, mentions of death and murder in.. well almost all the characters..!

MASKY

JEFF

Similar to Ben's part, you find out what happened. Your parents didnt tell you all of the details that happened the night Jeff went missing, and you'd later find out why when you got older. From the man himself, actually. I enjoy the idea that between the actual canon event of the source and my take hes mellow out.. just a bit, at least hes not going to take you down the second he gets the chance. It's been.. years, you thought he had died at some point actually. Hes loud and arrogant, but for one reason or another he trusts you. You havent turned him yet, and that's saying something. Sometimes things are just like how they were before; the two of you are joking with each other and sharing stories. You don't see him often due to him just.. dropping off and doing who knows what.. but he always comes back to you eventually

BEN DROWNED

You were both childhood friends. The day Ben died, you were told he had moved away. You didnt find out what happened until years later, when you started asking around. When fate brings you both back together everything feels. Wrong. Hes a ghost, and primarily confined to technology- currently hes worked himself into your computer, proving himself to still be the mischievous guy he was in life by subtly messing with your files.. but you grew up, and he didnt. Despite still being friends, there just wasn't enough for the two of you to relate to anymore. In a way it reminds me of Anohana (need to rewatch it but I recommend it). If Ben notices the rift he doesnt say anything

The terrible thing is that you dont know what happened to him. One day he was here and the next? Gone. On top of that, are you even aware that he doesnt seem to.. remember all that much about you? It's almost as if hes an entirely different person. Out of all the characters, your relationship with Masky needs to be rebuilt from the ground, simply because it didnt exactly exist before. You were friends with Tim, of course. To you, you're trying to jog his memory and do things you two have done before. To him, you look.. desperate. Overtime you do both grow closer but the relationship will never be like how it was before, and you're going to have to readjust to this new situation- though is that not the case with the rest of these characters?

EYELESS JACK

You had heard on the news what happened at his college. It looked like there was a massacre, and your friend was no where in sight. Even before Jack became eyeless, he was still.. closed off and reserved. However reunited with him he seems to have sunk deeper into that, even trying to get you out of his life again because of.. what was happening to him and what was changing. Your insistence almost breaks the both of you, but despite everything you manage to safely reenter his life. His new eating habits.. are something.. and that's assuming he even tells you.. he probably would, out of guilt for keeping it from you and just guilt in general for needing to conform to his new diet. It's very strained and tense for a long time in the beginning, even if you're the most open minded person. Jack's not going to let it be easy

PUPPETEER

You were.. friendly with each other before everything. But you weren't exactly all that close. Of course when you found about how he took his life, you felt horrible. But life goes on. You move on, and go on with your life plans... and you were doing good at that, before a figure appears in your room one night. Its terrifying, actually, and if it didnt start talking to you like you were an old school friend you would have tried to make a run for it. Maybe it was the shock that kept you in place? Of course, the figure was.. him.. he doesn't seem to recognize the name you knew him as, in fact you cant tell how much he actually remembers. He basically just invites himself to live with you, not all that bothered with the idea that you might not want that. Hes.. kind of a dick, actually, but hes charming enough for you to keep him around. Having conversations with him is interesting, as well. Hes usually respectful enough but theres some level of... sass.. that keeps you invested. Hes so much like how he was before, but also not. Hes still there but it's like hes been flipped on his head

[genericpuff]

Familiarity in the Unknown - The Book Written by Tiny Paws

So there's this story you may or may not be aware of. It's about a rat who, despite being a rat, expresses a deep love for creating and cooking, often through unorthodox means and yet - throughout the unorthodox - compels us to think about the virtue of art and our own place in the world.

I know, completely absurd concept, why would a rat be cooking? It's ridiculous - but absolutely beautiful in its execution and simplicity. Our main character exists within a world that is treacherous, endlessly massive, occupied by strange creatures that could hurt him - even kill him - where good food and joy is hard to come by and living for oneself is against the tenets of his society's herd-mentality - but he is able to persevere and break through the difficulties of this world through his joy for food, for cooking, for the fire and smells, for satisfying his curiosity of the unknown, for expressing himself through the creation of art and, subsequently, for the love of the community and friendship that only grows in response to his sincerity.

Who am I kidding though, you know who I'm talking about, I don't need to keep patronizing you with wordplay and flowery descriptions. I'm obviously talking about The Book Written by Tiny Paws-

The Book Written by Tiny Paws isn't really a comic that I found so much as it found me in my daily scroll through my feed of notifications, featured in a user-submitted post to the /r/webtoons subreddit, discussing their newest update. There are a lot of comics that get promo'd in these communities and for the most part, none of them really ever compel me to read them, usually due to elements outside of the creator's control - they aren't a genre I'm interested in, the art style isn't gripping me, I'm just not in the mood to pick up anything new, etc.

But every now and then, something breaks through my own mentally enclosed barrier and reaches the innermost parts of my brain. And strangely enough, this time around, it was this little guy:

I did not know his name. I did not know what species he was supposed to be. I mean, he looks like a rat at first glance, but he also has little webbed feet like a platypus. I didn't even really pay much attention to what he was saying at first - all I could look at was his sincere little face. And once I snapped out of the cuteness hypnosis and read his dialogue, I suddenly found myself already hooked even before I read a single page. I wasn't sure what to expect, just so long as I could see more of this cute little guy.

By the end of the 9 episodes it had available at the time, not only was I more in love with this tiny creature than I was when I started, but I had the realization that this was going to be one of those rare, magical occasions when a piece of work would grab me and refuse to let go.

The Book Written by Tiny Paws is, to put it simply, a story about a creature known as "Firemaker" trying to find his way back to his herd after being separated from them during a flood so devastating that it drowns the earth beneath its waters. We are shown immediately the nature of this world - barren, bleak, cruel - but Firemaker describes it with the curiosity and wonder of a child experiencing all of it for the first time.

We're also immediately introduced to another core character - a stranger named "Vagabond" who does not seem to belong to a herd.

From its first two pages alone, The Book Written by Tiny Paws exceeds in what many comics struggle to do - it not only introduces us to its main character through his personality alone, but presents us the creator's approach to storytelling and worldbuilding: familiarity in the unknown.

Throughout each episode, alongside Firemaker, Vagabond, and the others who come and go throughout the world, we learn about how this world operates, and how they have been surviving in it. We learn that the flooding is actually a regular enough occurrence that creatures like Firemaker count their ages by how many rains they've survived. We learn that there are other creatures described only by their physical traits, and are left only with our own assumptions based on their word choice and imagination as to what they're referring to. There isn't any sign of human life, but human-like intelligence is present as creatures like Firemaker and Vagabond are able to communicate, count, multiply, use tools, and, as we see above with Firemaker, make logical connections between cause and effect (even if they're initially wrong).

Many of these concepts are familiar to us, if not absolutely mundane and outdated, but through the eyes of Firemaker and Vagabond, we get to see those same concepts re-contextualized in a world that is unlike our own. In this way, The Book Written by Tiny Paws asks us to re-explore the mundane through the eyes of creatures that rely on our privileges for their survival.

And when it's not re-contextualizing, it's introducing us to new concepts entirely that make this story and its world feel wholly unique. One such unique concept is the way in which they count - a system of multiplication through simple geometry.

It should be mentioned, before I get in any further - the creator of this work, Nolinno, proclaims themselves as "more of a physicist than an artist", and while I do believe they're not giving themselves enough credit for the art (which I will get into soon), their passion for physics shows immensely, showcasing not only their love for learning, but their affinity for teaching as well. It takes someone who really knows their stuff to be able to explain it as simply as possible for the layman such as myself to understand - and even then, not everyone who is well-trained in their field of study can necessarily teach it well - and yet Nolinno has done an extraordinary job so far of explaining their story's concepts in ways that are both simple to grasp and rewarding to master. Specifically, they reward the readers' ability to retain information and engage with it through their own conclusions, largely by creating opportunities in the text for that information to become relevant.

One of the earliest examples of this is when Vagabond initially reveals his age to be what first-time readers will assume is the number '11', and from there we can assume that '11 rains' must be significant as Firemaker seems astounded by this.

But then, we immediately find out that Firemaker himself hasn't learned to count that high, prompting Vagabond to teach him how to count higher than 3, which is when we get to learn the actual details of that aforementioned counting system built on multiplication and geometry.

It's through this explanation that we learn that Vagabond isn't 11, but the text doesn't explicitly tell us - it asks us as readers to instead follow along with Vagabond's teachings and come to our own answer.

And so, I'm not going to tell you the answer here either! There's a top comment on this particular episode that's gotten it right (as confirmed by the creator like a very proud elementary school teacher, awww), but consider that more of an answer key if you want to know if you got the correct answer. And if you feel like Vagabond's explanation here is too limited or you want more examples, nothing to fear - Nolinno has given us a study guide!

What I adore about this is that as much as I'm intimidated by mathematical concepts like this, I genuinely appreciate when a creator puts in the effort to establish ground rules like this, and in such a natural, sincere way. It challenges you just enough to compel you to try, but not so much that it's completely alienating or overwhelming.

And thanks to Firemaker's characterization, we don't feel so alone in learning these concepts, either. Firemaker's own inexperience on account of being only "three times three" years old (he's 9!) he makes a perfect surrogate for the audience to learn about the world through him. This isn't an uncommon storytelling trick, but can often come at the expense of the character's own personality - after all, if a character is constantly having to be a surrogate for the audience, it can lead to them becoming more of a blank slate without any voice - but Nolinno has accomplished that balance perfectly through Firemaker's curiosity and vulnerability. Firemaker being 9 years old and still inexperienced doesn't rob him of his own skills - more so, it's clear that he's fulfilled a specific role for his pack, and now that he's been separated from them, he's now having to learn the skills that were likely reserved for other members of his pack.

This also makes him a perfect foil to Vagabond, a creature whose past is still shrouded in mystery but is clearly experienced and can act as the parental figure or "older brother" to Firemaker - but we're always left wondering why Firemaker has left his pack, and whether or not those survival tactics were taught to him through his pack or learned the hard way after leaving. It ultimately leaves us wondering what Vagabond's true motives are, and whether or not he can be trusted as a role model to Firemaker. Fortunately, nothing so far has made me or even Firemaker doubt his capabilities or motives, even earning himself a new name-

-but in a world so unpredictable, who's to say that Vagabond's own motives are entirely pure?

After all, as we soon learn, not all creatures are kind in this world.

Again, in case it needs reminding - Firemaker is nine. Though 9 years old for a rat-platypus creature may not be equivalent to 9 years old for a human, it is still very much communicated to us through the narrative that he is a child and, as such, is going to have his safety threatened in this world the same way a child often would in our own - through the cruel actions of untrustworthy adults.

But, as I mentioned already, Firemaker is never made to be the constant ball and chain of the pair. Though he may just now be learning how to count and multiply higher than 3, he's earned his name through his own particular skills that can be used to not only save himself from starvation, but save others from ambush through the use of smoke signals.

Of course, as much as I can gush about the narrative, I also wouldn't forgive myself if I neglected to mention its art style which, despite being created by one person who claims to not be much of an artist, wonderfully complements its theme and tone. I would go so far as to argue that this is one of those stories that just simply wouldn't work as effectively as it does if it had a full color art style. The contrast of black and white between the environment and its characters, as well as the simplicity of the character designs against the more detailed designs of the architecture and props, makes for a brilliant visual presentation that - like the worldbuilding - expresses itself clearly without overcomplicating anything. Through its art - just like through its writing - it asks us to try and find familiarity in the unknown.

And best of all, when things do get complicated-

-it harshly reminds us how quickly a simple and beautiful thing can turn ugly and cruel.

Even though it was initially Firemaker's cutesy little face that suckered me in, the worldbuilding that Nolinno has expertly crafted through their own knowledge and affinity for teaching others has stolen the show. And that's a quality that I find is quite rare in fantasy works nowadays, but just like the culinary arts of that other rat who's far more well-known, it came from a completely unexpected place.

Nolinno has accomplished what I find a lot of budding fantasy writers struggle with - they have successfully created a world that is full of its own unique qualities, and communicated it clearly to their audience in a way that is both engaging and rewarding. Unlike others who often put the lore before the story - usually by dumping every bit of exposition, conlang definition, map and political chart on their readers before they've had a chance to even read the first page or know the main character's name, often out of fear that all their prep work will have been "wasted" if they don't reveal all of it immediately - Nolinno simply shows us their world and its inhabitants as they are, without the need to justify itself, and invites you to join along at your own pace, with helpful little bits of knowledge communicated through the narrative to help you find your way. It's okay if you're not entirely certain of how this world works, because you're not travelling alone - so too are Firemaker and Knower finding their way.

As someone who was raised on the works of Jeff Smith (BONE) and Bill Watterson (Calvin and Hobbes), and even found their own passion for fantasy writing through both comics and video games like The Legend of Zelda, I have a lot of appreciation for stories like this that can be appreciated by all age demographics, and I've found myself almost disillusioned by the current landscape of conveyer-belt media today that often fails to live up to even a fraction of what we remember existing 20 years ago, existing only to pad a rich executive's bottom line. This has only been further exacerbated by the advent of generative AI that's now threatening the integrity and livelihood of artists both within the industry and outside of it.

Suffice to say, just like the world that Firemaker inhabits in The Book Written by Tiny Paws, our world is very bleak right now. Even still, its characters still find their moments for joy, for rest, and for play, and the comic in and of itself reminds me through its existence that there are still wonderful works being made that are capable of making me feel as curious and excited as I did when I was reading BONE cover-to-cover at the age of 12.

Those moments and those stories feel harder to come by than ever, but I'm happy to say that The Book Written by Tiny Paws is one of them, new memories that I'm happy to have made and am eager to continue to make - familiarity in the unknown.

[666writingcafe]

New Voice Messages (Part Three)

Lucifer

"Hey. I know it's late and you're probably asleep, so you don't have to respond to this right away. I should be asleep, but I keep tossing and turning whenever I try, so I gave up on that hours ago. I'm currently sitting on the rooftop, looking up at the night sky. Well, and recording this message, but that's self-explanatory, I feel. *sighs* Don't mind my rambling. I'm both incredibly tired and slightly tipsy. I finally got around to trying the bottle of Demonus that Diavolo gave us as a housewarming gift, and it's pretty decent. I had a couple glasses of it before coming up here, thinking that it'd help put me to sleep. Obviously, it hasn't, but it was worth trying, I suppose. I at least feel like I can respond to your note without choking on my words or banging my head in frustration. *briefly pauses* Given the way you signed off on it, I'm going to assume that you trust me enough to not abuse your old name. That's also why I'm outside. Less likely to be overheard using it by my brothers. If that's okay with you. If it's not, feel free to tell me off for it the next time we meet. So, MC. *pauses again before lightly singing MC's name* Have I ever told you it's a pretty name? Saying it is comforting somehow. *clears his throat* Sorry. Like I said, I'm a bit drunk."

"Feeling more in control now. Might still ramble a bit, but hopefully not as much as before. *takes a deep breath* The first time I read your note, I ended up crying. Not because you said something wrong, but because it was...sweet? Is that the word I'm looking for? *briefly pauses as a gust of wind gets picked up on the mic* It'll have to do for now, I guess. Anyway...it's interesting how you and Diavolo said more or less the same thing, and yet I'm more inclined to listen to you than I am to him. Perhaps it's the difference in tone? I could definitely tell that he was getting frustrated with me towards the end of our phone call. I know there's a part of him that sees me as a really shiny toy, one that he's quite territorial over. If I were to leave his side, he'd throw a massive fit, I'd imagine, and he might start a war over it. Which is silly. I'm not worth fighting over. *pauses* And yet everyone seems to for some reason. It's like I cause people to lose their minds. I don't know if it's due to the amount of titles and prestige I've had or my physical appearance or something else entirely, but they seem to all go into hysteria after spending any significant amount of time with me. Except for you, MC. You don't care about Lucifer Morningstar, former Lightbringer, Avatar of Pride, yadda yadda yadda. You simply see me as me, if that makes sense. You want to make sure that I'm okay, and you don't expect anything in return. It's a way of repaying back the kindness bestowed upon you in your situation, I suppose. And it'd be cruel of me to ignore all of that and still plunge to my death. So I'm staying. *pauses* You're right. This does feel weird. You better make good on your promise, MC, or I may end up changing my mind again. *chuckles* Don't take that last part too seriously. I'm merely messing with you a bit."

"You know, I wonder what my brothers are thinking about this...offer being made to us. I already know Mammon and Beel would stay, and Belphie's going to do whatever Beel does, but I'm not sure about Levi and Asmo. I mean, you were there when Asmo was yelling at me about leaving the Celestial Realm. Do you think he's eagerly packing his bags as we speak, or--"

A Few Hours Later

"Sorry about the abrupt ending of my last message. Mammon caught me on the rooftop. We ended up talking for a while. *pauses* The two of us have an interesting relationship. Kinda similar to the one I have with Satan. Mammon's sort of my brother and sort of my son, except he didn't spring out of me like Satan did. He's the first angel I felt the need to protect. Everyone else was prepared to throw him away, even though he was merely a child. I couldn't sit back and let them treat him like that, especially not after I held him in my arms as he was crying. He was around the Chihuahua's age when that happened. *clears his throat* I apologize. I know you don't like me calling Luke a chihuahua. I really am trying not to. *pauses* So yeah. Satan's technically the third oldest, since he came into existence in my mind shortly after I took Mammon under my wing. Levi came into the picture when Mammon was a teenager, and the others when he was just becoming a fully-grown angel. *pauses again* It was actually Mammon that insisted that we take care of them, and he was so earnest about it that I couldn't say no. I mean, the fact that he was willing to do for others what I've done for him...I was quite proud of him. Still am, even though he insists on putting on a persona these days. I know deep down, he still cares about everyone. *pauses yet again* Is it weird that I feel comfortable sharing all of this with you, MC? It might be the alcohol still affecting me, but somehow I don't think it is. I...I think I've come to trust you. Completely. I haven't even gotten there with Diavolo yet, and I've known him a lot longer. *chuckles* You truly are special, little lamb. *silence* Shit. That wasn't supposed to be said out loud. I better go before I start calling you more silly nicknames. Good night, MC."

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch, @interconnectedmatrix

[yanderes-galore]

Fandom: Souls-Like Game

Character: Scrapped Watchman “Murphy” (Lies of P)

Pairing: Platonic

Type of Fic: Scenario

Plot Idea (or go off the rails if the idea isn't up to par ^^""): Human! Survivor! Darling was a teacher before the puppets of Krat went rogue and was a parental figure to many children before they were infected by the plague or murdered by rogue puppets. Darling was able to save one child and is fighting tooth and nail to not only escape but protect this one child.

Thank you for hearing me out. :)

I'm still incredibly new to Lies of P. However, Scrapped Watchman is like the third boss... so I don't need to know all the lore to write yet. I will continue watching cutscenes and lore videos though :) It looks so cool and the STORY is fantastic too!

Btw, if I got the whistle thing wrong my bad. The lore made it sound like kids used the whistle to summon him so that's what I was basing it on-

Cold Dark Streets

Yandere! Platonic! Scrapped Watchman "Murphy" Story

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Murder, Blood, Dark themes, Overprotective behavior, Kidnapping, Forced companionship.

You remember the days where things felt... simple. Before the city of Krat began to rot, before people died of plague or were torn by puppets in a frenzy... you were a teacher. A teacher who would teach the poor kids in the slums useful skills to survive.

You loved all the children who came to you for lessons. They were attached to you, you felt like a parent to them. Naturally... since they trusted you enough... you often heard childish rumors.

Such as nearly every kid in Krat obsessing over the mascot known affectionately as "Murphy".

You knew of such a puppet, the one condemned for being a hazard to kids due to its battery continuously discharging. There wasn't much you could do to stop the kids from seeing the mascot puppet. You simply told them to be careful... but were unfortunately not surprised when you hard of injuries involving the puppet....

Murphy... you forgot such a name ever since the city went downhill. All you ever focused on was surviving, avoiding malfunctioning puppets and preventing sickness the best you could. These streets... you remember them as being so lively...

Now they were just about as dead as many of the residents here.

When things began, many abandoned the children in the slums to fend for themselves. Many children had died as a result, the bloodbath staining the streets with many others. It was a cruel reminder that with one wrong move... you were as good as dead.

You were just happy to save one child.

The child you found was originally wounded on the street, a young boy, cowering before a malfunctioning puppet. You were quick to take a metal pipe from the ground and bash the head of the puppet in enough to take the boy with you. That was...

Do you even remember how long ago that was?

Ever since then you have become a surrogate parent for the young boy. Said boy only had the clothes on his back similar to you, far as you knew at least. You were quite protective of the boy when you took him in, said boy being around nine years old.

Protecting him made you remember your days as a teacher. The mere thought of him being attacked makes your grip around the metal pipe tighten. You may not have been able to save the rest...

But you'll save this one.

You are often on the move within Krat. It was a struggle to find sustainable food and survive frenzied puppets. So you often found yourself sneaking around areas.

City Hall was one such area. You had to cut through the area to look for supplies. Oddly enough... the boy by your side seemed oddly eager to be around here.

"We'll be safe here!" He chirps at you, causing you to look at him in confusion. Your hand was still tight around his smaller one as you quickly glance around.

"What makes you say that, my heart...?" You whisper, an uneasy feeling stirring in your gut.

"Murphy's here! He'd never hurt us!" He chimes, causing you to pause for a moment.

Murphy... you haven't heard such a name in forever. You vaguely recall the mascot the kids were so fixated on. Was... This kid also fond of the puppet?

That wasn't hard to believe....

You had no idea Murphy would even still be around. In fact, you were worried he would be. Murphy would never hurt children... but you...?

That... was another case entirely.

"... Were you close to Murphy?" You ask the boy beside you before he perks up, looking at you excitedly.

"Yeah! Me and my friends would blow whistles with Murphy all the time! It was so fun!" The young child rambles before going quiet, pulling a small item from his pocket. "We'd blow whistles... like this!"

You notice the young boy pull out and old police whistle. However, before you can stop him, he then put it to his mouth... blowing the small tool as it makes a shrill sound. You flinch a little at the sound, looking around.

You really should've stopped him... but the surrounding area was so quiet...

"Careful...!" You warn, looking around, "We can't alert any puppets... we need to go-"

Before you can make any attempt to leave, a whirring screech occurs along with the clicking of gears. You immediately look up, a large puppet sparking and crawling about the City Hall building. You don't waste time, grabbing the boy and running.

"Murphy...!" The boy cries, making your heart clench at his excitement. He didn't know how much danger you were really in... too young to understand.

You jump as suddenly the large bodied puppet smashes onto the ground as you run. The puppet looks like a hunchback police officer, peering red eyes scanning the area only to find you. A screech, one akin to a war cry, echoes as you try to flee from it.

The puppet is frenzied, running on all fours like a wild animal as it chases you. You try for the large door your entered through, yet the puppet quickly cuts you off. Warbled speech pierces through the air as the puppet stalks closer to you like a predator.

You then remember the whistle.

You quickly ask the boy for the whistle, the young kid giving you it quickly. He was beginning to feel scared at Murphy's frenzied state due to your panic. You waste no time blowing the whistle, the sound echoing through the area again.

The puppet... Murphy... pauses its hunt. The puppet closes his mouth, red eyes scanning you both over. Clicking gears go off as he tilts his head, sparking electricity occasionally spitting as it watches you.

The tension between you and the puppet is thick as the puppet studies you. He looks you over, noticing the child and the whistle. You hear Murphy's gears click and eyes blink as it takes in the information.

You jump when Murphy relents, crawling closer to greet you both with more warbled speech.

Your grip on the metal pipe is beyond tight now... yet you know a pipe won't do anything to Murphy. The whistle was certainly the best tool in this situation. In fact... Murphy now saw you as friend rather than foe.

While all other humans remain enemies to him.

"M-Murphy!" The young boy soon manages to say again once the puppet stops, Murphy's gaze quickly snapping back to him.

You watch hesitantly as the puppet appears to be friendly towards you and the young child you swore to protect. Perhaps he was right... with this whistle, Murphy saw you as friends. In fact...

Murphy himself was pleased to have friends again.

The old puppet originally had many friends. Many young children came to play with him near City Hall. Ever since the puppet frenzies began... Murphy was forced to watch his friends die.

But now, now that he's heard that whistle, Murphy was met with more friends. He was met with an old friend and you. Murphy couldn't help but listen as his old friend introduces you.

You had helped his friend...

Which meant you were also his friend.

The City Hall courtyard became a temporary spot for respite. While you were used to most puppets being hostile, Murphy just seemed affectionate if you were careful of his electrical arcs.

The puppet was quite aware of how dangerous he was with you.

You began to see Murphy as, well, a companion... but you couldn't stay forever. Staying in one place for too long could become problematic. Plus, you needed to find supplies to care for you and your... son.

Eventually you had to make it known to Murphy that you had to go...

But Murphy doesn't want his new friends to go.

When you try to make it known you need to provide for the child you took in, that you need to leave, Murphy screeches. The sound is once again that of a feral animal. You go to blow the whistle again, only for Murphy to ignore it.

He just found new friends...

You weren't going to leave him alone again, were you?

Before you know it, the puppet snatches you into his arms in a lightning fast grasp. You struggle in his hold, the boy tightly pressed to your body in a tight hold. Murphy ignores your scolding and the child's cries.

He was careful to not harm you with his battery as he begins to crawl the building of City Hall again. He doesn't understand why you'd want to leave. Did you really want to abandon him...?

Your reasoning does not matter to him... unlike other puppets, he can feel emotions.

His emotions tell him he doesn't wish to be alone again...

So he'll never be alone again... not if he keeps you both hidden away from everyone.

[cyxnidx]

No Nut November !

fandom: jujutsu kaisen

characters: gojo satoru, suguru getou, kento nanami, toji fushiguro, sukuna, shoko ieiri, utahime iori, choso kamo

a/n: i dont usually post nnn, but i decided to do it this year bc why not.

Satoru Gojo

I'd be generous giving him anything more than a week and two days. I have no doubt in my mind about it - Satoru Gojo is the most touchy characters out of them all. And while, yes, he will try his hardest to resist, the beginning of the second week begins to get too much for him and he eventually caves.

Suguru Getō

About four days. I've no idea why it's so specific but it just makes sense. The first two days pass like a breeze for him - until the third and fourth approach, which you up the stakes a bit and show a little more skin. That's where he begins to lose it.

Kento Nanami

Either half the month or two weeks. It's one or the other - either way, he ain't making it out completely unscathed. He'll only really last half the month if you take it easy on him though - minimal to no teasing, and only a fair amount of touching. However, if you decide to add a little bit of spice to things, he may just be tapping around around the two week mark.

Toji Fushiguro

Either the first day or the very last day. Though, the thing is, he knows he could last the entirety of the month. The amount of discipline this man has over his sensuality is utterly surprising. It's just - sometimes, he doesn't wanna last. On the very last day, he could decide to simply throw the whole "game" and say fuck it. He wants to give in sometimes. Others, he'll want to get it on and over with. To not have to hear about how others are struggling with it so badly, and not have to relate himself to it because technically, he already lost, in a sense. Which, however you decide to look at it, is a win for him.

Sukuna

He probably doesn't care enough to participate. Either he doesn't care enough or he's already lost without knowing the "game" was on. And with courtesy, you'd offer for him to start over and consider it a "freebie". Though, he doesn't accept. He simply doesn't see the joy in competing with others about who could basically hold their nut for 30 days. Especially not when he has such a pretty thing in front of him - competition or not, he couldn't hold himself for long, regardless of whether or not tried.

Choso Kamo

I'd give him a couple hours to two days. Apologies, but Choso strikes me as the almost needy type. If not the needy type, then he seems like he'd be the kinda person to try to edge himself. The whole purpose behind it would be to make the "relief better in the end", though he'd simply end up loosing due to pushing himself too far. If not him overdoing it, it'd be your additional flirting to his self-edging that causes him to give in.

Shoko Ieiri

Quite surprisingly, likely two weeks to the whole month. She's even surprised herself, and doesn't even register that the month is over until she asks you whether or not the challenge is over yet. She just.. either doesn't care enough to think too much about it or genuinely forgets until she reminds you or you remind her.

Utahime Iori

A good week or two. I can't see her being too desperate, but it's the fact of how she's feeling. She probably could last if she tried, but at some point, she ends up caving because she saw you in an outfit you full and well know she goes off the brink for. Even then she'll try to isolate herself, but any small gesture toward her or even watching you simply exist sends her off the edge.

[running-on-coffee-and-anxiety]

Notice But Hoping For The Best Part 4

Mister Lancer is the first person to truly say something is wrong with Daniel Fenton. That boy was never the most attentive student- He was loud and prone to goofing off with his friends in the back, though he wasn't too disruptive- but he was a good student. If it was a topic he was passionate about, such as science- something he certainly got from his parents- or when they covered the stars? He went from being a good student to one of the best, though he never quite beat his older sister Jasmine's performances.

Which was why the change was enough to spot and be a cause for genuine concern; at least, now it was. Though it may not seem like it, and though he may struggle to be unbiased, Lancer truly cared for his students. So when Danny started turning in work with poor handwriting that was at times hard to read, he started grading harsher. When he started sleeping in class, he made sure to wake the boy up and at the very least give him a mild verbal slap on the wrist. It seemed like the youngest Fenton was randomly deciding to slack off, which Lancer would not tolerate in his class!

Then the worry started to set in as his condition slowly, day by day, ended up deteriorating. At first, it was the messier clothes, the food-stained shirt and poorly tied shoes. Alright, miss Manson was probably the one behind his style, then, and her family randomly deciding to extend their trip meant clothes likely weren't Daniel's first concern. But then it became more serious, looking like he was struggling to brush his hair before coming to school, small tics with his hands- well, usually only his left hand- that he quickly pressed the other hand to suppress and hide, and random twitches that seemed to be focused more around his left side, but were echoed- albeit much weaker- on his right as well. The fact it seemed to coincide with the decreasing quality of his handwriting was very telling, and the fact the deterioration started when the ghosts began attacking... It was easy to sense something was going to break soon.

The break was both sooner- and more literal- than expected, when they were doing a lab for science class. Everything was going normally, Lancer wasn't paying close attention to anyone in particular, he simply happened to glance over at the youngest Fenton. Because of that, he was the only one to see his arm spasm, his fingers twitch and open reflexively- unwillingly. It was the breaking of the beaker that made everyone else turn to look after that. "Danny, clean up the glass and see me after class- and for the love of Shakespeare, don't handle any more of the glassware." He almost felt guilty after seeing just how close to tears that boy was at the order.

Daniel looked like he'd just predicted yet another ghost attack as he stood by his desk after class. Usually it would be a lecture, a detention, some form of punishment- but not today. Given who his parents were, what their jobs were and the fact the Fentons were targeting the ghosts with so much aggression- they were zealous in their work even before, but now there was a concern this was something much more personal. "Calm down, you're not in trouble-" Perhaps he had been a bit too harsh, given how the dark haired teen suddenly relaxed, as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. "-we just need to talk about something."

Asking about what had happened with the ghosts and what sort of injury they had caused Danny felt personal. Especially since his parents were so aggressive about going after the ectoplasmic creatures now. Lancer knew he needed to be diplomatic about this, for once carefully selecting his words. "I won't ask for any details, but clearly something has happened." It seemed his student was growing anxious again, but he continued. "I have been harsh due to believing you were slacking off, but if this is a genuine problem, it's my job as an educator to make sure any special requirements you have are met. Now, the ban on you handling glassware will exist and stay in place-" There was an almost painful look of loss in Danny's eyes at that. "-however, you will be given paper assignments you can fill out instead of doing the lab. Partner with someone and watch the experiment, then fill out the sheet your given. Every time you submit a written assignment, I would like you to stay back and help me read it; your handwriting is like another language to me. Understood?" A nod. Daniel was never this silent... It was disconcerting. "Good. You're dismissed." The only words were a mumbled 'thank you' before he left. It was almost... Heartbreaking.

Lancer noticed, he would try to assist, but he could only hope for the best. After all, the Fentons were taking care of things, and while they were... wild, to put it mildly, they were good people. Of course they'd get their son the proper care.

Previous Next

[backjustforberena]

I'm so tired of people criticizing Rhaenys just because they can't grasp a nuanced conversation. I keep rolling my eyes when they bring up Jaehaerys or Luke taking Aemond's eye—it wasn't that hard to understand her point.

By the way, I'd like to know your opinion on Corlys when he said, "then we must hope to see our way forward in time." Some people think he was hinting at having a son, especially since he was holding Rhaenys's hips. However, in my opinion, he was already considering his bastards.

I'm on my mobile phone right now, so apologies for any mistakes or autocorrect mishaps that I fail to spot.

It is frustrating to see the criticism of Rhaenys but, as things have gone on, it's become fairly unsurprising to me. Sad, though. I think there are a myriad of reasons why Rhaenys as a character particularly seems to suffer from woeful interpretation from some viewers. This can range simply from her not behaving like however the watcher might have envisioned her character in the book, to having a certain negative opinion of her to be applied every time she speaks or acts, no matter what.

I think a lot is to do with Rhaenys's positioning. You need to engage with Rhaenys to fully appreciate her point of view. Her perspective is not an easy one to come by unless you make the effort to understand some fundamental truths about her. And, on screen, she is a character who is ambiguous, certainly in the first season. She is deliberately cautious and her speech reflects that.

We very rarely see her vulnerable and very rarely see her being inconsiderate of context. We have an idea of her backstory but we have not seen everything she has been through or how major events have shaped her, personally, on an emotional level. We are denied seeing unguarded responses or aftermaths.

She is frequently a vehicle for uncomfortable truths. She mainly shines in 1 vs 1 scenes, and they often include some judgement or passing of information or confrontation. When the scene partner is a favourite character or a character who has had more prominent screentime, it's very easy to discredit Rhaenys because to credit her would be to admit some flaw or ugliness about the other player. So much that I've seen is about what Rhaenys's words mean for that person or that issue rather than what it tells us about Rhaenys. What Rhaenys is thinking of considering. What her perspective is. And to also admit that an audience's perspective on something is different to Rhaenys's, either by proximity (our sense of time between things is different due to the storytelling) or by information (us being aware of things or details Rhaenys isn't - or IS, as as may be the case with various relationships and her past and her claim).

So I think a lot of hate comes from a lack of willingness to engage with what and who Rhaenys is. Rhaenys is usually, frankly, an onion.

On to your question about Rhaenys and Corlys and Corlys's intentions... He is not hinting at having a son with Rhaenys. Rhaenys is in her 50s at least and is a menopausal woman, if we take Eve Best's word for it. She is NOT having a baby. Corlys is just putting his hands on her hip for the same reason she puts her hand in his hair: they want to be close and love one another and they're also always one good reason away from having sex.

Do I think he's considering Alyn and Addam? Actually... no, I don't. Certainly NOT consciously. It's not an option right now, not with Rhaenys living and, and I cannot stress this enough, Corlys is not expecting to lose his wife. Nothing about that conversation suggests that, nor have any of their others. The possibility of HIM dying has come up. Her? No.

I think it's a general feeling of wanting to avoid the issue for the sake of peace with his wife. He just doesn't want to have the conversation. I think he is also still grappling with his own mortality, having nearly died and having had Luke die. He may simply not want to move on from that space yet. He's asking for time. He's still including her with "we", but it's a tricky conversation and not one he's up to having. Nor one that he wants to admit to have to have.

In short: dumbass is trying to deflect.

[kaixserzz]

Hello! If it's alright, may I request Pantalone, Tighnari, and Wanderer's s/o (separately, of course) helping them when the boys aren't feeling good? S/o comforting the boys instead of the other way around

Thank you! I hope you have a lovely rest of your day/night ✨️

With You By My Side

ੈ♡˳ Pantalone x Gn!Reader *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ 0.8k words ┊ Fluff *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ Masterlist *ೃ༄

author's note ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

HIII ty for the request !!! i hope i delivered this nicely and sorry for taking for so long HDIJSKNADSA!! requests open btw guys :3 have a nice day/night too !! sorry i didn't include tighnari, i just can't think of anything rn for him :(( while wanderer's gonna be a separate one!! i just had a really good fic idea for it... teehee :3 i hope i didn't disappoint too much

More often than not, Pantalone finds himself stressed being one of the Harbingers of the Fatui. There's always something to do, with piles and piles of paperwork adorning his desk, requiring meticulous scrutiny and countless signatures.

Alas, not everything proceeds according to plan; Il Dottore often approaches him, beseeching for additional Mora to fund his recent projects, and then there are the damages he must compensate for due to the Traveler's meddling. The responsibilities seem unending, despite being merely the 9th of the Harbingers.

Nevertheless, Pantalone is resolute in his dedication to his duties. He never entertains the thought of slacking off, for he knows that giving his all is the only way to secure the rewards he rightfully deserves. At the end of the day, he envisions all the Mora he could ever desire within the grasp of his fingertips as a fitting testament to his unwavering commitment.

Regrettably, he finds himself vulnerable to the relentless onslaught of growing exhaustion and the suffocating grip of stress.

There's still so much to be done! Papers and meetings—this just won't do! As he lets out yet another deep sigh, he can feel the weariness settling in, each breath a testament to his exhaustion.

As three soft knocks echo on his door, he couldn't help but groan. With a determined effort, he straightens up on his chair, hoping to appear presentable enough to whoever stands outside. "Come in," he calls out, setting his pen down on the desk as he readies a smile on his lips.

As you stepped inside his office, a bright smile adorning your face, and a cup of tea carefully prepared just for him in your hand, a sense of relief washed over him, causing his tense body to relax. With each step you took toward him, his smile widened, feeling utterly cherished as you handed him the soothing tea, magically dispelling all his stress and exhaustion at the mere sight of you.

With a small bow, a gesture of respect for his position as a Harbinger, though you were his dearest lover. There was genuine concern in your eyes as you addressed him, "You've been hard at work, my Lord. I hope you give yourself a moment of rest."

"Thank you for your worries, my dear," Pantalone replied gratefully, feeling a warm flush in his cheeks as he took a sip of the perfectly prepared tea. He couldn't help but marvel at how you knew precisely what he needed without him having to say a word, coming to his office at just the right time. "I am almost finished for today," He added, reassured by your presence, knowing that with you by his side, he could find solace as he continued on with his work.

Flashing him another dazzling smile gracing your face, you positioned yourself beside his desk and gracefully bowed your head. "If you need anything else, please tell me. I will do my best to help."

Pantalone perks up at your words, a mischievous smirk played on his lips, and he casually set down the cup of tea on his desk. "Is that so?" You nodded eagerly, "Then kiss me," He simply ordered with a rather teasing tone. Pantalone chuckled, charmed at your cute reaction, eyes widening before your face flushing and quickly averting your eyes from him.

For a moment, you struggled to form a sentence, before furrowing your brows and clearing your throat, looking back at him with an embarrassed expression. "My Lord, we are still at work..." Pantalone raised a brow at that, crossing his arms.

"Oh? And I'm your superior." He stated with an authoritative tone, reminiscent of how he addressed the Fatui soldiers working beneath. But you could tell it was all for fun by the twinkle in his eyes. "So, I am ordering you to kiss me right now."

"But my Lord, what if-"

"You're not defying my orders now, are you?" His smirk widened when you looked completely cornered, hiding your extremely flustered face from him with your hand.

"N-no, my Lord..." With a small sigh escaping your lips, you gave him a playful glare. Taking a step toward him, you leaned down, and let him grab you by the back of your neck. He pulled you close to him, greedy lips attaching to yours.

It takes a good amount of force from you to separate from him, the kiss leaving you panting and a little lightheaded. You could tell he really needed that based on his very pleased face. He licked his lips, eyeing your lips for more, but you put your hand on them, glancing nervously at his door.

He didn't let up, trailing kisses all over your face and down to your jawline. You had to hold him by the back of his head to prevent him from going further down. "My Lord," You warned him, but you weren't pulling away from him either.

Pantalone's laughter resonated wholeheartedly, his hand gently cupping your cheek as a genuine and sincere smile adorned his face. It was a smile filled with love and adoration, a reflection of the deep affection he held exclusively for you.

"Now, sit on my lap." He teases once again, "That's an order."

"My Lord..."

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛❛ If you like this a lot, consider reblogging! I'll appreciate it very very much! Don't repost and/or translate my work anywhere. ❜❜ ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

[quibbs126]

hi hi! could I request a Pitaya Dragon x Dark Cacao fan child? an example of a name might be dragonfruit choco, which my friend came up with for this ship they came up with. their dynamic is two big guys with swords and anger issues that are besties but also maybe more??? :000

oh and snapcube sonic and shadow

I only realized now that there was a suggestion for the character. Sorry about that. Anyways, this here is Dark Sapote Cookie

Also one thing to note, I basically had Dark Sapote finished months ago. I think you can tell by the way their lineart doesn’t entirely match what I do now. Literally all that was left was the sketch, which I did today. There’s another fankid in that boat, so she might get posted today too (among others that I just have forgotten to post)

But also on top of that, it’s been a good while since I’ve thought about Dark Sapote, so I may miss some stuff

Anyways, on to Dark Sapote. They’re half dragon and live in the Dark Cacao Kingdom. They have a more dragon like form they can transform into, though it’s more of a drake than a dragon, and they don’t turn into it often. They’re technically an heir to the Dark Cacao Kingdom throne, but they don’t do much of anything, so they aren’t really considered such. They also choose to live outside of the Citadel in a cave somewhere

Dark Sapote is extremely chill and often very sleepy, to the point where they’re pretty lazy. However, this isn’t entirely due to their nature, but rather due to the temperature. Because the kingdom is so cold, their body’s essentially in a low power state, as they subconsciously are in a brumation state, but also aren’t reptilian enough to actually go into it, so they’re just stuck like this. And they specifically have this problem because Pitaya is from a tropical and more fiery climate, and Dark Sapote inherited biology for a warmer climate, not a colder one. No one is really aware that this is the reason Dark Sapote is like this, not even Dark Sapote themself

In higher temperatures, they become more active and energetic, and in addition they become more powerful. But because they live where their power is dampened pretty much all the time, they don’t have the best grasp on their full power. If they were to go to say, Dragon’s Valley, they’d likely unleash mayhem with their uncontrollable power. Not quite sure how they haven’t encountered this problem yet, but whatever

They grew up in the Dark Cacao Kingdom simply because they liked Dark Cacao more than Pitaya, but they kind of all unwittingly created this giant problem for Dark Sapote, leaving them in this state

Anyways, on to the design

So Dark Sapote is a name I’ve had on file for a long time, after I discovered the existence of black sapotes, which is what they’re based on. Black sapotes are a tropical fruit like pitaya, and apparently when ripe, they taste similar to chocolate pudding

Black sapote:

So to look for things to say on their design, I watched the time lapse video Procreate makes, and now I remember, Dark Sapote was hell to design. And if I’m being honest, I think the rough sketch is the best version of them

They were apparently originally going to have horns or a crown of sorts, but I decided against it or it just didn’t work. Side note, but I need to give my characters more accessories, especially in the hair. That’s how they end up looking so plain

Their hair is supposed to be the same between the sketch and the final design, but you can’t really see it with the pose. Apparently I tried other hairstyles that would make it visible but for some reason I decided against them

Their side hair thing is supposed to be from Pitaya, with their side bang things, but I don’t think I executed it super well

The colors on the armor were such a pain, mostly because Dark Sapote has so many dark colors, making them all blend in with each other and the black lineart (I only color it at the end once colors are finalized). That was what made me shelve them for so long, because I couldn’t get them to look right, until one day I came back and was like “yeah good enough” and colored the lines, and then left because I was out at the time

Also the colors themselves aren’t the most appealing. The green and brown come from the fruit itself, but they aren’t the nicest to look at

To be honest, I think Dark Sapote needs another shot at a design. The final product isn’t the worst, but it definitely could have turned out better. And also, I like their character

And yeah, that’s Dark Sapote. If you see a redesign of them later on, don’t be too surprised. But regardless, I hope you can enjoy them in some capacity

[arcticgraverobber]

I just finished: My Friendly Neighbourhood!

I think many people groaned when they first saw My Friendly Neighbourhood - another kid horror game, put out for youtube channels to churn out video after video about: yet I try to be hopeful with these games - I even tried Garten of Banban (don't) - and with my love of puppets I was particularly hopeful about MFN, and it delivered on my expectations.

MFN has a child centric overlay, yes, but it doesn't have much in common with the likes of Five Night's at Freddie's or Bendy and Ink Machine at all. I'm not sure the game appeals to younger children all that much due to the lack of more overt horror elements, it seems too age appropriate: there's no gore, no dark mysteries for theory channels exploit - it wears it's themes on it's sleeve. MFN opts for a subtler creepiness, though even then the game is fairly light throughout. I think the younger audiences for these games are generally drawn to them not because of the elements taken from children's entertainment, but because they seem more adult while still wearing an approachable skin, and MFN neighbourhood wholly rejects that veneer of maturity.

As I said the game is not all that explicit, so don't expect to be going down blood soaked corridors or finding dismembered corpses - but the puppets, they never stop talking. The noise never stops. They are absolutely incessant, never stopping their monologues even when they've been taped up, talking over each other even when they are right next to each other. They only stop when they see you, delightedly greeting you and asking for hugs - which is how they kill you? I won't lie, I was confused when I first died, 'how on earth does that kill me?', but, I suppose I am supposed to being playing as an older man, so being knocked over a few times might be enough - and of course this game won't be showing a grizzly death.

The game play is a veritable love letter to Resident Evil and survival horror in general, taking elements from across the franchise: most resembling RE7 with it's first person perspective and the layout of the buildings, as well the fact that looking at your inventory doesn't pause the game when your in it, forcing you to always be vigilant - but the inventory also resembles the popular briefcase system from RE4, and they even have their own version of the Mercenaries thrown in. The puzzles are all very classic resident evil, and taping the puppets up is reminiscent of burning corpses or boarding up windows in the early games.

So: Resident evil with puppets? The only thing missing for me is some good FMV, so of course this was going to be a hit for me no matter what - but even in terms of Resident Evil clones, this is likely the best I've played so far, and probably also the most approachable. All of the elements taken are used effectively, not simply thrown in just because Resident Evil did it, and unlike many similar games including the ones it's aping, it takes every step to avoid the player becoming frustrated. It's map, similar to the those in the more recent Resident Evil entries, highlights which rooms still have things left to do in them, and when the game asks you to backtrack to gather things it actually marks them on the map for you! I had an actual gasp when I saw that, with how out of character it is for this genre as a whole.

Whilst earlier I said My Friendly Neighbourhood wears it's themes on it's sleeve, that's not to say it's shallow, I can certainly find a lot of meaning in it, although many may consider it to be reading a little to deeply. The show is of course focused around a 'sesame street' type show, and focuses a lot on where this kind of art finds it's place - whether it may even be considered art. Whether art can be good and wholly kind, without being vapid and meaningless. This is contrasted in the background by a nonspecific 'war' which seem to be blamed by some of the puppets for why the show got cancelled, with the idea that before this war everyone was kinder and less cynical, and because of it they are no longer receptive to the messages of the show. I think this could be easily read as a some sort of prelapsarian fantasy, but I think that'd be unfair. The game does present the neighbour's wholly kind view in a positive light, largely, though not without pointing out criticisms of that out look. One of the notes in the game - which I will point out I was always worth reading, unlike with certain other games - details the issues with teaching a child to always be selfless, helping others with anything. This easily allows a child to be exploited, and encourages them to not care about themselves at all.

As well, being 'wholesome' is often a shield hidden behind by people wanting to spread their propaganda without critique. Is it even possible for art, created by a human with flaws and emotions, to be completely 'wholesome'. I would say not - My Friendly Neighbourhood serves to make that point, though putting out a positive front there are always darker things lying in the background, and the lessons of friendship the game imparts would be meaningless without them. Throughout the game you'll have opportunities for your character to console some of the puppet characters, often through sharing similar stories of hardships. Only through misery are these characters brought together, and without it such scenes would feel hollow.

At the same time, the veneer of darkness is often used to make media seem more adult and serious, similar to many of what might be called it's ilk in the 'kid horror' genre. Sort of parodying this, near the end it's explained that the reason that the puppets are so odd and aggressive is because they exposed themselves to other media, wanting to become more like other TV shows that were more successful than them. The most affected of these puppets reisde in the aptly named 'unfriendly neighbourhood', and look more like what you would expect monsters in your standard kid horror game to look like - all dark and edgy.

I think perhaps I may have said a little too much about a game that is primarily a silly game where you shoot puppets - but at the same time I think it's silly to dismiss a game - or any art - like that just because it parts of it are less serious. And while that is the main message I got from playing My Friendly Neighbourhood - don't let it stop you from playing it if you just want a fun silly time with puppets, that's there for you too.

Significance: 2/3

Grade: A

[dovahkinniez]

this is an absolutely, shamelessly feral idea- but i hope you’re up for writing submissive, bound farkas in sexual denial 😇

+ no pressure to write it ofc if u don’t like writing for submissive guys!

i saw another fic by someone else with the trope of farkas gone feral from his wolf blood, and asked to be bound down to his bed to try and calm himself, he wears a muzzle that muffles his speech and secretly wears a chastity belt underneath 👀 And so i thought up this continuation of the trope and was hoping you’d write it for me (istg ur work is so good i have like it all archived) Btw the fic is called Wolfs Blood I'm pretty sure.

maybe it would be his wolf blood acting up that made him not realize his internal desires, how he actually wanted to be in this situation for sexual pleasure rather than to calm himself, but he slipped up. being bound to his bed, unable to tell anyone to release him, muzzled and strained by his chastity belt? It would be so unlucky for him to be especially horny and turned on that night. such a pitiful sight for him to be effortlessly struggling in his binds, hot breath escaping his muzzle, demeanor cracking. DESPERATELY trying to release his core from its prison; but just simply can’t. And so effortlessly turned on from the fact that he can't. maybe the reader (who farkas def has a wild crush on at the time) would be the only one awake at that time, only one hearing the grunts and near silent wails from the other room, the only one to investigate it, opening the door to such a sight 😳

being so clouded by desperation and denial, embarrassment and self control completely subsided him as an affect of his heightened wolfs blood making him so honest; he would beg the reader to help him through muffled words. He would have meant for them to release him, to take off his muzzle even- but the reader would have other (consensual) plans, determined not to lose this opportunity to make the oh so strong farkas SOB.

( I honestly didn't plan on making the trope so descriptive but I think I had a little too much fun- still dont really know how you're supposed to request things here.. Nevertheless id b so happy if u could use it 2 make a smut or something. If u don't want to, that's completely okay!!!!!)

` 𖤓 . . . FARKAS.

First of all, thank you so very much for the compliment! I love seeing you guys tell me you like my writing, like fr makes me so happy.

(18+) I did do a semi sub! farkas fic not long back, but it just didn't involve kink, so maybe you'd also like to read that if you haven't. But as I said, it wasn't sub sub, ya get me? Idk. ANYWAY! Yes, submissive men >>>. Gotta love em, I just don't write it out a lot due to the fact most people like them dom (tell me if I'm wrong). So hell, yeah. I love this idea, and the idea from the fic you told me about (I haven't ever read it though). But I have once read a few anime character fics that work along the same lines so I am familiar with the whole 'in a rut and can't control self' thing, and I love it. :D

So credits to the op who wrote that fic, I don't want to steal that person's idea, of course.

I will try and make this as gender neutral as possible, but there may be mentions of a female bodied reader, I'm sorry if I do and that makes you feel uncomfortable, I adore you all. And enjoy!

18+ only! Sexual content ahead, minors dni!!

Hours. That's what it felt like. Fingertips burning as he tugs at the restrains, trying to find some release. It's not working. Eyes glazed over with frustration and desire, his blood is burning through his skin, he's counting down the hours until this...curse...wares off. Hoping the ache in his body subsides, so he can feel normal again. The ceiling grows misty from his lack of vision as he pushes his hips up, feeling the metal of the chastity belt rub against his needy flesh.

Gods, he needed release.

Whining and grunting as he aims to gain as much friction as possible yet it isn't enough. Feeling the hardness of his cock strain against the solid metal stings as it grows tighter against his skin, fuck it hurts.

Asking to be restrained but a few hours ago he didn't expect to feel this worked up already, he knew it'd be bad but not this fast. He feels his body changing each rut he falls into and since meeting... someone. He's noticed his desires increase until it hurts, now he's completely feral as he attempts to grind his restrained cock against the belt, all while thinking of you.

He wants you so fucking bad its driving him crazy.

You walk back in from a night's work, shaking the adrenaline off your limbs; wiping blood from your face with your hand, which is smeared in just as much blood. Cringing at the taste of the blood you make you way into the sleeping quarters, it's silent. Not wanting to make noise you creep around, hearing noise from Farkas' room you freeze slightly, hoping maybe he could help you with some clothes as you didn't want to wake anyone up making a ruckus to get a change of clean clothing.

This had became a routine, as Farkas stayed up late at night he became the person you'd go to if you needed anything after a late night job. In reality the night time was the only time you had Farkas to yourself, enjoying his company uninterrupted and without eyes watching, where you could be yourselves. You found Farkas more comfortable in speaking around this time.

Slowly opening the door the heat hits you, taking your breath slightly at the sheer temperature in the room, Farkas felt you by the door. He could smell you and the blood that coated your form, biting down onto his bottom lip as he pulls on the restraints until it burned at his skin.

"Y/n.." By Dibella. His deep voice broke out into a cry of desperation, the sight took you by complete surprise yet something in the air compelled you to shut the door behind you, watching him closely as he moves his body on the bed, in an attempt to try and get you.

Walking closer you take in the details, feeling the arousal seep through your veins, it was intoxicating as the heat from his body radiated through the entire room. "S-Stop..." "Stop what?" You reply as you watch the sweat on his heaving chest, the way his stomach sucks in as you grow closer, how his back arches, his thighs cling together, tight and muscular. "You're making it worse." He barely growls out, whines passing his mouth as he falls back, watching you with dozy eyes. "Do you need help, puppy?" "Don't tease me." Inside he was begging, pleading and the way his hips push up tells you exactly just that.

Smirking, you begin to realise the power you hold in this situation. He's ready, hot and looking at you with needy eyes, all for you to play with. He notices your smirk, the way you snake your way onto the bed, watching his body as he shakes from not only the rut but now you too. He's always wanted this.

He just didn't realise how badly.

Slowly taking off your armour, he watches with bated breath. "Tell me, do you need help?" You ask again, he watches the blood drip across your naked form as you take ahold of his legs, parting them between you as he lifts himself up, he could cum alone at the sight and smell of you.

"Y/n-" "Farkas. Yes or no. Do you need help?" You cut him off, eyes sharp as he gulps with a nod, "Use your voice, puppy." You smile gently, almost innocently as you rub your hands up his muscular thighs, tugging at the straps of the belt he wiggles his hips up, wanting to be freed.

"Yes. Please. F-Fuck." He hums out, his lip almost bloody from biting down. "I need you-" Farkas whimpers out as you lean up, running your hands across his body, squeezing at his muscles and his neck as he pushes his head back, "Fuck. Me ... Please." He chokes out between breaths as you giggle while licking and kissing against his abs and v-line. "Patience, puppy." He had none. He had been wanting, needing and waiting for too long. He needed release.

You knew this. You decided to take advantage of it instead. So cruel.

"I can't-" "Ah-Ah." You smack his thigh, Farkas mutters a shy sorry, causing you to smile against his skin, "Good boy." Fuck. He felt whatever blood left up shoot right down, his cock pressing against the belt and he swore it felt as if it were bleeding from the pain. Whimpering as he attempts to close his legs, you slap his thigh again, grabbing at the hot flesh as he takes a deep breath in.

Biting and licking against his neck, bruises litter across the skin, you lick up his neck as he moans out, your fingers tangled through the raven locks of his hair as Farkas hangs his head back, like putty in your hand he follows each movement and each motion you make. Hot and sweaty under you, his body laid out ready to be fucked as he whines each time you make eye contact in a desperate attempt for more.

"You're so impatient." You hum out. He only whines more. "Do you want me to suck your cock?" You ask, he moans out, feeling his dick twitch against the metal desperately for your mouth. You laugh out, looking at him as if he were weak and pathetic and fuck, he loved it.

Slowly taking the chastity belt off you pepper kisses along his torso, releasing his cock as it slaps against his stomach, hot and heavy, tip leaking and angrily red.

You couldn't help but laugh, leaning back and simply watch him as his hips jolt, his cock twitching with need. "Please." "Patience." You shush him, running your finger across his thigh, until it reaches to his ballsack, using your hands you tug and gently massage, he grits his teeth, his cock bobbing with anticipation and all you do is watch, eyes low and glued to his face as he watches with a helpless expression, panting for more. Rubbing your hand up to his cock, feeling each vein and the wetness that formed a string from the tip to his stomach, you form a fist around him, slowly pumping, watching his dick swallow your hand as he let's out groans and whines. Fuck, he sounds hot.

You wish to stay there longer, but your mouth waters at the sight and the sounds before you, but it didn't matter how fast leaned down to move your mouth because to poor Farkas it felt hours before he noticed you slowly lean down to lick the tip, gathering the precum on your tongue before you slowly take him I'm your mouth, your jaw expanding until it hurt due to the thickness he bared. "Ohhhhhh ..... Fuck yeah." He breathed out, louder than he expected. Biting down on his bottom lip to mask his moans and to mirror the pain you were causing in his thighs as you dig your fingernails into them, gripping tightly while trying to fit more of him inside your mouth.

It almost felt impossible, too big. Poor puppy is too large for his own good yet he shakes and moans just as well while you lick and press your tongue against him, sucking and licking while making all sorts of ungodly sounds, Farkas listens and forces his own sounds to quieten as he rolls his eyes back, leaning back onto the bed. Arching his head back as you wrap your hands around him, pumping him while focusing your sweet mouth on his weeping tip. Farkas moans like the good boy he is, "Please... I need to come.." He begs, as you rub and fist the saliva that oozed out your mouth and down his shaft.

Tears roll down your cheeks from the sheer size of the man, yet his tears where from pure frustration as you fuck his cock with your pretty mouth and skilled hands. "Cum for me, puppy. Be a good boy." You say lowly, he whimpers and arches his back as he pulls on the restraints. "Fuck - fuck." He grunts as you bob your head up and down, hands rub and please his cock and his balls as your mouth licks and sucks until you feel him pulsating, squirting cum onto your tongue as you groan, you mouth rumbling against him as you tilts your head, licking and sucking down the edges on him, licking at the oozing cum as he continues to moan out like the whore he is, thighs clenched into stone until he gives way, limp and sweaty, whimpering breathlessly as you clean him up with your tongue.

"Gods. I'm not finished." Tonight was going to be a long night. Good job you haven't fucked yourself on him yet.

[cinnamonest]

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

------

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.

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

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.

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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.

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

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.

[betonbennett]

I've seen you talk about your sleep issues and I thought you may be interested in my experience – I've had nightmares for the better half of my life, occurring both due to natural and supernatural reasons.

They are going to last. Possibly forever; I haven't found a way out so far, so I doubt you will either. You better brace yourself for that, though it's not like it will wait for you to get ready.

You should get used to the lack of sleep, eventually. You may try to relieve this by sleeping whenever you can, however, you should be aware that it is never going to be a pleasant experience again. For me, sleeping during the day (whenever I can manage to fall asleep in the first place) usually intensifies the fear and, as a result, the feeling of being drained, but sometimes it is necessary to take that compromise. Sleep will always be a compromise now.

Try not to neglect it, though. While it may be detrimental to your mental condition, your body still does depend on it, which you will find out very quickly if you ever attempt to avoid it for an extended period of time.

There is another issue, although I'm not sure if it will touch you, since for me it started before I even met Jonah. I developed insomnia a long time ago, which haven't passed even after all this time. It... complicates everything, as you can imagine. I sincerely hope this shall not affect you, but I have to warn you that it is a possibility nonetheless.

Do not mull over your dreams. I understand that those nightmares that are more supernaturally inclined tend to stick in the memory vividly, but it will do you no good. They don't have anything new to tell you, there is no hidden meaning or higher purpose to them. It is simply suffering for the sake of suffering. Make yourself some tea, don't think about it and try to fall asleep again.

I apologies for the length of this missive. I haven't really said anything useful or encouraging, but there is nothing of the sort to say, I'm afraid. Maybe I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.

-J.F.

Jonathan– God, Jonathan I–...you simply will not leave me in peace, will you?

No, you most certainly haven't said anything useful, let alone anything encouraging. But not to worry, I've already given up on anything of that sort coming from you. At least you aren't calling me a monster for this as well– not yet, anyway.

You will laugh at me for this, but I have been trying to avoid sleep. Willingly, at first– now the fear of sleep comes to me almost as naturally as the need for it. I dread leaning my head or my back against furniture or walls, lest I fall asleep for long enough for the dreams to return to me. It's– pathetic, really. Then again, I always have been, have I not?

Even if they are suffering for the sake of suffering, my dreams have plenty of meaning, thank you very much– and I would ask you not to speak of them as though you know anything about them, if you would be so kind. Although they have never told me anything I didn't know, only reminded me of what I refused to acknowledge.

I wish you could hold me. I always slept so well in your arms– But why would you hold someone you despise so? In fact, now that I think about it, I would most certainly not be surprised if you had written to me with the sole purpose of revelling in my suffering. But Thank you for sharing your experiences with me, Jonathan, I am sure dwelling on your pain will prove a more than suitable distraction from my own. Lord, I miss talking to you. I hope you're alright– No, I hope you aren't, not without me. I hope you miss me too.