#never trusting dog kennels ever again

[girlhorse]

gosh im recalling the time the first shitty dog kennel I worked at tried to board an extremely DA and HA dogo argentino. First of all what rhe fuck was the owner thinking bringing a bite risk dog like that to a fucking KENNEL to board. second of all why was my boss such a massive idiot. That place is highly regarded by the community but it's absolutely a dangerous place to work and dangerous for the dogs. She insisted her facility and "training" were up to standard for her to take in dogs regardless of temperament. but i recall several instances of employees being bitten, one so badly he lost use of his hand for months. There were dog fights and the issue that got me fired was an incident where the extreme HA/DA foster dog she had kenneled for *months* bit and punctured a small dog.

Wasnt my fault btw but she needed a scape goat.

[fortheb0ys]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLYeA8Kt/

Okay okay okay

Pet play with Jeff vs Graves would be soo fun to see

Jeff only really gets rough if provoked, feels awful after usually unless it's sex. Then he's probably pretty satisfied, but even then he's really not that rough. Really gotta work him up to being rough, let him blow some steam in a safe environment where he won't be afraid to be "bad."

He has his moments, overwhelmed and probably panicked, especially after Shauna and her "book club." But he's not inherently a bad dog. He's a good boy, just needy and clingy, probably a bit insecure and wary around people.

That biting issue isn't awful after being with him for awhile, probably actually able to train him over Shauna. But sometimes he'll bite if something feels too good or he's frightened, but I can't imagine putting him in his kennel again over it. They're accidents, lost in his head like last time and everyone's learning from it

Graves?

Rough and mean for the hell of it. Is not satisfied by slow sappy shit unless you really work him in, or his day was genuinely terrible. But usually? Graves is wrestling and probably straight up sparring with you for dominance that he doesn't want.

Bites bites bites all the time. You look like you were thrown to the wolves after leaving a session with Graves, cannot train this out of him. It's his god given right as a puppy. Fuck him with a dildo with a knot? It's soo over for him. Eyes rolled back and drooling everywhere. 0 thoughts in this pups brain, literally none at all as he's shooting blanks over and over again.

He's bratty, mouthy. Loves to tease and be pampered. Stressed at work? Scratch behind his ears and coo at him and he's melting away, itching for that weight of a collar around his neck.

Anyways 😭 idk if any of that makes sense but you get to have my rambles anyways!

-🥭

AHHHH I WANNA DIG A HOLE IN YOUR SKULL TO LIVE IN YOUR BRAIN AND EAT YOUR THOUGHTS!! THIS SO PERFECT😭 This is fucking perfect! I'm so sorry if none of this makes sense.

Jeff is gentle natured. Only ever violent when really pushed in a corner or someone's threatening people dear to him. He's definitely not in control of his mouth when he experiences any overwhelming emotions. He would bite his lip, the inside of his mouth or tongue and not realize. He'd start panicing or whine when he taste blood.

He just doesn't like to be treated rough at all. Rough means punishment. He needs reassurance that he's not a bad boy and that no one's mad at him.

I feel like Jeff gets let off the handle more than he should. Don't want to push him and break his trust. He's, for the most part, well behaved. If he does something wrong he's most likely going to beg for forgiveness before he could get reprimanded.

His kennel isn't really for punishment. It's more of a safe space for him. Just plushies and throw blanket. It's only ever punishment if the cage is closed.

He likes everything soft and sweet, especially nicknames. Cute one like buddy, puppy, pumpkin, etc. He loves to be spoiled. Kisses and praises more the material things.

Shauna lets him stay at your place some weekends and as much as he loves spending time with you Jeff questions why Shauna doesn't love him anymore. He definitely soooooo fucking clingy. The type of dog to wait outside the bathroom door.

Shauna probably wouldn't have much patience with training him. Would give up quickly or scold him a little too hard. Gentleness is key in reinforcing Jeff's good behavior.

Graves gives the vibe of one of those pitbulls named 'Cupcake' or 'Princess'. He can be sweet but violence is in his nature. I think he reacts violently because that's how he was treated. He's violent with both play and sex. He'll violent rip apart toys and goes through them so easily. Old wounds can never heal properly cause he just bites over them (I have a fic talking about this actually).

Graves thinks if he does his mission he'll get rewarded but is let down constantly by Shepherd. He'll finish his mission and all Shepherd gives him is a cold pat on the back and his paycheck.

Yes, Graves loves the money but he craves to be praised both cause of his ego and his deep need to be wanted. If someone wants him, they pay.

Shepherd calls him a dog with a bone. He'd somehow learn of Graves' puppy play. Use it against him and for sometime Graves let him. He's loyal to the ones he's close with and it took alot to break that trust. But seeing his men, the ones he views as a pack, die made him snap.

So now with a new 'handler' he's never going to be fully trusting. He gave it away and it backfired.

I think Graves bite more so to show ownership. Yes, he has violent tendencies but he like to see markings. It's way of him keeping some level of control. Plus he just genuinely like to do it.

Graves accept no punishment. If boundaries are crossed or his actions too severe, just go quiet for a few days to scare him. He'll think he'll be abandon and will crawl back. It's a bit cruel but it's the only thing that works.

He has money so spoiling him with gifts isn't going to win any favor. He just wants someone to 'play' with. Honestly he'd probably pay. Of course, most of the paycheck is hush money.

Graves requires a lot of energy burning activity aka sex when in his head space. He's a busy man and doesn't get to relax often. I can imagine his has those heavy chain collar. Chain him somewhere and get him to fuck himself on a knotted dildo while trying to finish work than fuck him for hours after.

[emry-stars-art]

Omg PLEASE tell us more about the hurt/ comfort after Neil gets back from evermore after being kidnapped

Oh you know the fun parts to brainstorm 👀👀 First I needed to draw some of the comfort so here’s a sketch:

Anyway this is aftg we’re talking about, specifically Riko and Nathan, so once again; it’s rather vague but take care reading on (or skip to the next bolded sentence for the comfort 💕)

I honestly still don’t have all the specifics on what might happen at Evermore! One option is just to make it very similar to Neil’s canon Christmas break, because the angles are similar: in canon, they want Neil quiet and obedient to play exy and not act out against his treatment, and in this au the only difference is instead of exy it’s… violence, essentially. But let’s be honest. This is a royal au, we have to add some things, right

So the main tenant is “they want Abram to do what he’s told without argument”. In my mind that includes being forced to watch every bit of Nathan’s work and then having to do it himself. Of course, Abram is still stubborn and still hates doing it more than he hates anything else, so it takes a long time for him to hurt or torture or kill anyone the first time he’s asked. Usually there is heavy coercion and harm before he touches anyone.

But the point isn’t to get Abram used to doing it, because he’s already as used to it as he will ever be. The Moriyamas’ focus is more on breaking down the stubborn streak and strong moral compass. The best way to do that, they figure, is to take away his personhood altogether. So Abram is never referred to as a person, and instead they more or less treat him like some inanimate weapon or like a dog. A very volatile, vicious dog. Kennels and muzzles and commands and all. Some starvation and sleep deprivation when they decide it’s “necessary”. Even long into his recovery Abram can’t hear a word like heel or sit without his muscles twitching to do so.

So it’s a mix of the dehumanization and punishment. Riko has almost free reign once again, though Tetsuji will step in at times when he deems it’s too much. (Though I don’t think he considered waterboarding/near drowning every time Abram is made to bathe or shower “too much”.) Near the end of Abram’s time, a week or so before he’s either rescued, somehow returned, or escapes, Tetsuji revokes Riko’s privileges altogether when Riko causes some heavy head injuries that concuss Abram and make him lose his sight for a while. It’s not permanent, but it’s long enough term that when he gets back to Palmetto, Abram takes a long time away from most people to recover. He doesn’t trust himself not to act before he can think when he can’t see his surroundings.

Back at Palmetto, it might take most of them a while to realize how bad it was. Day is most familiar with how Evermore works, but he was still high up in the chain of command and respect, so he wasn’t necessarily familiar with the underworkings like that. Abram was raised in the environment, he is horrifically good at more or less acting normal. And when he’s fully awake and conscious, he’s very good at keeping things separate - people can still touch him with enough warning, he still holds conversation when he has to. The worst things come to light slowly - the first time he wakes up in a flashback Abram and Day immediately decide it’s best if he doesn’t stay around Andrew. So Andrew kind of has to watch from the outside and it kills him. He watches when Abram refuses to bathe, but if he doesn’t get clean the wounds will get badly infected, so Day kind of has to make him. But Andrew can’t help - because as Day expects, Abram panics and Day ends up with several bruised ribs and nearly broken fingers. Abram won’t wear high collared or tight shirts any more, and one time in helping the Queen care for the castle’s hounds Abram has a panic attack when he’s accidentally left alone for too long. There are little punctures over his cheeks and nose in a circle across his face. He has a hard time eating around others. Abram never tells them what happened to him, but Andrew and Day slowly figure it out anyway.

As they figure it out, everyone does their best to adapt. While Abram’s still recovering his sight, Day announces himself and most of his movements. He talks all the way through finally washing and detangling Abram’s hair (even after the long time he spends on it, they have to cut out the worst mats) when Abram tells him it helps to hear a friendly voice in a language that isn’t the Moriyamas’. Day talks more often and more softly than he probably ever has in his life, because he’s made himself Abram’s main caretaker. Not to say he doesn’t make honest mistakes, because they all do, but he’s quick to change his behavior.

Then, when Abram’s almost fully recovered his sight, Day lets him stay with Andrew once more. Now it’s not as much Abram watching out for the prince - he will do his job well enough, but sometimes he still has to step back and away because of course he does. And Andrew’s approach is very different than Day’s. It isn’t as much his voice as it is his presence, or when he uses his calm but direct authority to tell Abram to go to sleep, I’m going to be right here. After Abram’s panic attack in the kennels, Andrew discovers that if there’s nothing around to pull Abram into a panic attack he won’t generally fall into one again after leaving the stressor, and Abram finds great comfort in some grounding hold on some part of him. Usually the back of his neck or his hands. He won’t let Andrew hold a knee or leg when they’re sat together, but he will put his weight against Andrew’s shoulder for balance. Little things that Andrew figures out by asking or trial and error. When Abram slips, accidentally refers to himself as “it” or “thing” - words he’d never use normally and sometimes even flinches from - Andrew learns to stay within arms reach, sometimes talking through his and Abram’s schedule. If it’s bad enough Abram might play with Andrew’s fingers and hands while he does, like he’s trying to make sure he can still touch someone without hurting them. This afternoon we discuss plans for the upcoming festival with Day, Captain Wymack, Abigail, and Aaron and Katelyn, and after we’ll eat. Join me in the garden? Always official, non-confrontational events. Slowly Andrew gets Abram readjusted to eating at a table and speaking without seeking permission first.

But again. There’s a lot of possibilities and things are always subject to change or be added, so this is kind of my jumping off point! (And is half of this summarized from things I’ve written? Yes. But I want to have something else polished and posted first so 👀 I hope to circle back to this soon) Thank you for the ask!! 🥰

[kindnessisweakness2]

14

Emily reached Oswald's yard in record time, the guys pulling in behind her seconds later. Running to the office she saw Elliot behind his desk, concern on his face. Jake was on one of the leather sofas, arm covered in blood. "Oh here she is! Come to claim your vicious mutt?" Emily glared at Jake, fire burning in her hateful stare. She never liked him. "That dog is perfect. You shouldn't be handling him, you've been told before. You know fuck all!" Slamming her hands on the desk, Emily looked up at Oswald, just as she heard the rest of the guys pile in behind her. "I want the cameras checked Elliot. I wanna see what happened for myself." Elliot turned her attention to the screen on the wall and pressed play. Sure enough the footage showed Zeus, the gorgeous black German Shepard turning and snapping his jaws onto Jake's arm as he was walking across the yard. Jake stood up behind Emily and spoke in a taunting tone. "See! He's fucking feral. I want him destroyed." Emily snapped around, the anger in her eyes doubled. "Out of the fucking question! You've got to go through me to touch that dog." Looking Jake up and down she scoffed. "And i don't think you've got the bollocks." Turning to face a still silent Elliot, Emily pleaded. "I want the camera's in the kennel checked. That behaviour doesn't come out of no where." Jake started to squirm. "Elliot seriously? Theres no need to check the kennel cameras. End of the day he bit me. Thats it, he should go!" Elliot looked between them both, clearly unsure. Emily raised her eyebrow at him. "Who are you gonna trust here Elliot? Your Kennel Manager and trainer or this idiot? Oswald Security wouldn't be what it is without me and you know it!" Elliot sighed as he used the remote to switch the screen to the kennel camera. Jake started to squirm even more and Emily knew exactly why. The footage showed Jake bang harshly on Zeus' kennel door startling the animal. Then to make it worse instead of clipping on his lead, he roughly grabbed him by the scruff pulling him from his kennel and out the door into the yard. The yelp from the dog was enough to make Emily want to tear his fucking throat out. Elliot's face changed at the footage, realising Emily was right. Angry didnt cover it. The rage that she felt was indescribable. How dare he handle her animals like that? "I want him gone. Dismissed and as far away from my fucking kennel as possible." Emily spoke through gritted teeth. Jake started to protest behind her but she had had enough. Turning around she shoved Jake back down onto the sofa. Leaning over him, fists clenched, nails digging crescent moons into her palms, she spoke through gritted teeth. "You ever come near this yard again, i will fucking feed you to them piece by piece you weak, pathetic, piece of shit." Jake glanced around the room as if anyone was going to tell her to back off. "Oh i get it! You think because you got 3 members of SAMCRO here your protected? I heard you were their new fuck toy since Noah left your ass. He let them pass you around now he's done with you? Anger was clear to see on Jax's face now as he moved further into the room, ready to beat the shit out of him for speaking to her like that. Jake's laughter was cut short by Emily's fist crashing into his mouth. "Think your fucking funny?" She spat as she hit him again, knuckles bleeding from the contact with his teeth. "Emily!" Oswald shouted the first words he's spoke since she got there, as he gripped her arm and pulled her back. "Get him off this fucking yard now! I'll kill him Elliot i swear!" Emily breathed heavy as she tried to rein her temper back in. "Ill handle it. Go cool off." Elliot pointed at the door, clearly wanting her to leave. Rolling her eyes, she didnt give Jake a second look as she stormed from the office, the rest of the guys in tow.

Emily's hands shook with pure anger as she leaned over the fence of the exercise yard. "The temper on you darlin'" Chibs whistled as he threw his arm over her shoulder. "You got any Irish in ya? You remind me of me wife, Terrifying woman." Emily burst out laughing as she looked at him. Since she met him he had never failed to make her laugh. "Yeah i do actually. On my mothers side." Chibs smiled at her and it made Emily feel slightly better. Jax watched her. He was still angry himself at how she had been spoken to. Is that what people thought of her? Noah treated her like shit and now she was being passed around the club like a crow eater? Charming gossips were relentless and SAMCRO have always been at the center of their rumors. But now Emily was being dragged into it and he hated it more than he used to.

The sound of the Kennel door opening got Emily's attention straight away. Lee, one of the other handlers, was leading Zeus out into the yard. "Lee, let him go!" Emily called and the sound of her voice made Zeus' ears perk up straight away. The whine he let out make Emily's heart swell. He was her boy. He made her so proud. Stepping forward Emily dropped to her knees as all 120 pounds of excited German Shepard ran her way. Zeus collided into her with kisses and whines. Flopping onto his back on the dirt he gratefully accepted the belly rubs. "Hey E. Take it you heard what happened?" Lee spoke when he was close enough to the group. "Yeah Zeus is going nowhere and that asshole is losing his job as we speak." Lee laughed at her. "I wouldn't expect anything less." Emily smiled at him as she moved to stand up. "You working him now?" Lee nodded. "Makes sense. He's all riled up from this morning anyway." Emily grinned as she scratched Zeus' ears. "You getting in the bite suit?" Lee went pale. "Seriously? Not again!" Emily nodded her head as she grabbed Zeus' lead from his hand and hung it round her neck. "Ill meet you in the field." Lee groaned but didnt complain as he turned and made his way back towards the kennel. Excitement was clear to see on her face as Emily spun to face the others. "You guys can go back to your welcome home party. Im staying with my boy." Cara shook her head. "No way! I've heard you talk none stop about this dog and training. Im staying to watch!" Emily laughed as everyone agreed with Cara. "Fine but hands down at all times, you can lean on the fence." Unlocking the field she let Zeus in and locked the gate behind her. Walking down to the guys she smiled as Zeus started running and sniffing the grass. "He's beautiful." Juice commented as he watched him. Emily smiled. "Yeah he is. And he is one hell of a protection dog." Tying her hair up high and out of her face she called Zeus to come to her.

Lee let himself into the field, waddling in the huge bite suit down to Emily. "I cannot believe you are getting me to do this. He dislocated my shoulder last time!" He groaned as he shifted, uncomfortable in the padding. "Oh stop whining. You know you love him!" Emily laughed. Jax smiled at her. She obviously loved this job. It was clear to see in how she defended the dog and her position. He never would've thought this was the job she did. They needed to talk about alot really. Her day with Abel, that amazing kiss, and where it left them. Jax kicked himself. This was the only upside to one night stands, no awkward relationship talk. But for her he was willing to do it. Jax snapped out of his mental monolog as he heard Emily call to Zeus. Emily gave him the command and he assumed position between her legs. Lee signaled to her he was ready and started making his way towards her. "Watch him." Emily called and Zeus' eyes locked on to Lee as he was moving closer. "Speak!" With the command, Zeus started barking and growling. Lee had both his arms behind his back now, only a few meters between him, Zeus and Emily. "Show me your hands!" She called over the snarling of the dog. Lee ignored the call just like he was supposed to. "Show me your hands or ill send the dog!" Emily called just like she had a thousand times before. Lee showed his hands and started waving around the metal bar. "Last warning! Back off or I'll send the dog!" There it was. The final warning. Emily always trained her guys to give 3. 3 strikes and your out. Lee lunged forward and with that Zeus became airbourne. Not caring about the weapon, he lunged to protect his master. Nothing would get between him and Emily. Connecting with the bite suit covering Lee's arm, Zeus bit down hard almost taking him off his feet. Lee struggled against him, but no luck. Zeus wasnt giving up easy, even dangling in the air at one point. Running over Emily gave him the command to release and return to her. Zeus dutifully obeyed moving to stand at her side. Throwing his ball as a reward, Emily let him have a few minutes play. Lee lay on the ground panting. "I both love and hate that dog." Laughing Emily helped him to his feet. "You getting in the car?" Lee groaned. "Your running the car exercise too?" Emily shrugged. "Why not? He hasnt done it in a while. And Oswald wants him ready for when the cars start being left on the sale lot. Ya know in case someone tries to take one." Lee groaned again but started to make his way towards the car parked on the other end of the field.

Jax watched as she did what she did best. And she looked god damn sexy while she was doing it too. Turning to Chibs, Jax asked the question on his mind without hesitation. "What do you think about her?" Jax knew Chibs would tell him the truth. He could always count on him to do that. "I like her. You could do alot worse Jackie boy!" Chibs smiled at him. Jax turned back to the field and watched as Emily squatted next to Zeus kissing his face. God he was obsessed with her. He watched Lee give the signal he was ready once he was in the car. Emily gave Zeus a command that Jax couldnt hear but it made his eyes lock onto the car. Jax had to admit even he wouldnt want to fuck with that dog. Maybe he should get one for his home, protect Abel that much more.

"Wow!" He heard Cara gasp as the hair missile that was Zeus flew through the car window without any hesitation and locked onto the bite sleeve around Lee's arm. Lee fell through the open drivers door on to the ground, Zeus on top of him pinning his arm to his chest with his mouth. Emily ran over and gave the command to release, giving him his ball as a reward. Zeus proudly ran around the field with it, enjoying his play he worked so hard for. "Fuck" Lee groaned as Emily helped him to his feet. "Im getting out of this thing." Laughing Emily let him out of the field, Zeus on her heels. "Does he only protect if commanded?" Juice questioned as she made her way over to them. "Wanna raise your hand to me and find out?" She grinned as Juice shook his head wide eyed. Jax moved to stand by her side. "After seeing him train I'm considering getting one for Abel. Especially when his nanny has him at home and I'm not there. What do you think?" Emily smiled at him "I think its a great idea. Ill even train it if your comfortable with that? I can bring Zeus back to the clubhouse with you. He's trained perfect around children, i can show you and your mom the benefits." Jax nodded with a wide smile. He could see how passionate she was about this. "Perfect. Ill meet you there." Emily couldnt wipe the smile off her face as she loaded Zeus into the car.

Within minutes Emily was pulling into the same space in the lot, unloading Zeus. Jax was already there and had brought his mom and the rest of the guys out onto the lot, catching them up with his idea. "Im not sure Jax. A dog? Thats a risk with a baby!" Emily gave Zeus some water as she listened to Gemma try to shoot down Jax's idea. "I trust her mom. And i trust that dog. You haven't seen what i have. Give her a chance." Jax stepped forward and took Able from Gemma. "Zeus nice. Friend." Emily said as Zeus sat down eyeing the baby. Taking Abel from Jax she kneeled infront of Zeus, letting him get a good old sniff of the baby. Abel babbled as he pressed his hands onto Zeus's muzzle, clearly interested in the new creature. Turning around Emily placed Able in his carrier on the floor. "Everyone step back." Gemma eyed her with a scowl. "You expect me to step back and give that dog a chance to maul my grandbaby?" She snapped and Emily scoffed. "Ive looked after this baby all day. Alone. If i was gonna hurt him dont you think i would've done it while you weren't watching him?" Emily rolled her eyes at how ridiculous Gemma was. She could see she didnt want to but eventually listened and took a step back. Emily moved to the side giving Zeus space to sit infront of the carrier. "Stay and watch. No one touches him." Emily patted Zeus' head and stepped even further back. "Can someone please try to pick up Abel?" Emily asked, arms crossed over her chest. Opie stepped forward. "Ill do it. Just dont let him take my hand off." Emily smirked as he stepped forward, his hand reaching for the baby. He didnt even get to make contact before Zeus was growling in warning, his hackles raised. He was ready to pounce if that hand made contact. Opie backed up as soon as Zeus started to inch forward. "Fuck that!" Emily laughed as she moved next to Zeus. "Safe." Bending down she gave him a fuss and threw his ball across the lot. Turning to Jax and Gemma she crossed her arms over her chest. "I can train another Zeus if thats what you want. Family dog but protection when needed. Itll sleep infront of Abel's crib and can follow him and the nanny where you want." Emily grinned as she felt Zeus nuzzle against the back of her legs. Scratching his head, she took his ball back and threw it again. He deserved it. He's such a good boy. Jax nodded as he looked at his mom. "See extra protection for Abel is a good thing." Gemma eyed him but gave in eventually. "Fine. But-" The overbearing mother stepped infront of Emily, hands on her hips. " If it hurts my grandbaby, ill destroy it." Emily scowled at her. "Have faith grandma." Before Gemma could say anything back, Jax guided Emily toward her car to talk about arrangements. "So when do you start training?" Emily was thankful he pulled her away, Gemma is really pushing her fucking luck with her attitude. "Well we have a litter due to be weaned from mum in the next week or so. You can come and pick your puppy and then i'll start bringing it around you and Abel so it can form a bond. Ill have to have access to your house too, so it can get used to its new environment." Emily spoke as she loaded Zeus into the car and turned her air con on. "You can come by the house any time. Stay if its easier." Jax leaned against her car, mentally kicking himself for the forwardness of his comment. Emily could feel herself go red. "That might not be such a good idea. The dog would get used to me being there. I dont want to get in your way." Jax placed his hands on her hips. "You wouldnt be in my way. And so what if the dog gets used to you? Maybe thats not such a bad thing." Jax pulled her closer and butterflies exploded in her stomach. Fuck. He really did drive her insane. She wanted to give in. She really did, But part of her knew she would only get hurt in the end. Jax is only interested in her because she's new. The novelty of her will soon wear off and he'll be back to his many women.

"Maybe it would be. I dont want to cross any lines. Cause any confusion. I better go. Ill keep you updated on the puppy. Waving to Cara, Emily jumped in the car and drove away from Teller Morrow. Jax stayed staring at the back of her truck as she drove away, disappointment clear on his face. Meanwhile, as Emily drove towards her house she couldnt help the tears that pricked her eyes. Today was nice, but it was also a stark reminder of what she couldnt have.

She needed to put distance between them. And fast.

************************************************************************

Hey guys!

Extra long chapter to say thank you all for being so patient with me!

Please let me know what you think! I love reading your comments and messages :)

[darkhighness]

Good Omentober Day 25 - The Hellhound

Prompt by @disaster-dog

Crowley discovers his soft side on an unconventional assignment from Hell and lives to tell the tale to Aziraphale years later.

Crowley had found himself in quite an interesting situation. Things had been painfully dull on Earth since Jesus’ crucifixion and he was craving something new to do. That’s how he ended up getting assigned to work in the beasts' department for a six-month stint while another demon was predisposed to causing havoc on Earth. Right now, he was cradling what was one day going to be a large, vicious hellhound in his arms and watching as its tail wagged eagerly for a small taste of the puppy milk he had in a bottle in his other hand.

“Aren’t you a cutie, little Dondun?” Crowley cooed, gently scratching behind the dog’s ears.

Crowley would die inside if anyone saw him like this but he couldn’t help but melt in the presence of a litter of puppies, even if they were Hellhounds. This one in particular held a special place in his heart. He was the runt of a little of 3 and had been entirely abandoned by his mother. Crowley spent all his time with the little one, willing it to grow up lovely and strong.

Over the next month, Crowley would nurture and play with the puppy but he seemed stunted. The demon wouldn’t admit it but he was really worried about him. He was barely half the size of his brothers and Crowley knew if he didn’t improve soon, his life would be short-lived.

“Come on Donnie, you gotta eat,” Crowley sighed, nudging the bowl of demonic kibble towards the weak dog.

Today was particularly bad. Dondun hadn’t even moved all day, curled up in the far corner of the kennel, shaking in the cool. Crowley gently ran his hand along the back of the dog, slowly resigning himself to the fact that Dondun likely wouldn’t survive the night despite his best efforts.

He picked up the puppy and cradled him as he had many times before, gently petting his head and a few tears began to streak his cheeks, “I’ve got you, Donnie. You go when you’re good and ready.”

Crowley spent the entire night there with the puppy. Dondun took his final raspy breath in the demon’s arms and for the next week, Crowley was numb.

---

It had taken a very long time for Crowley to forget about Donnie. He swore off ever caring about dogs ever again, deciding it was too cruel to trust an animal with his heart.

Aziraphale however, was not aware of this fact when he brought home a bright eyed, fluffy-tailed Border Collie that he’d adopted on a whim. The dog sat obediently at the door to the bookshop, just behind Aziraphale and Crowley could see the dog's big brown eyes that felt so familiar

The dog let out a small yap before breaking past Aziraphale to run to Crowley. Surprised by this, Crowley jumped up, prepared to defend himself from the attacker.

Instead, the dog just licked Crowley’s hand and its tail was wagging excitedly.

The demon bent down to meet the dog at its level. It didn’t take any major miracle to see what was happening. Behind the dog's eyes were the remnants of the soul of a small hellhound that never got to see the world. Behind this Collie’s eyes were the remaining shards of Donnie.

The emotions returned as a flood and Crowley couldn’t hide the tears from Aziraphale as he held the dog in a haphazard hug, his hand gently mussing up the fur around the Collie’s neck.

“Well, it seems like you two will get on just swimmingly!” Aziraphale gushed.

“It’s like I’ve known him my whole life,” Crowley chuckled slightly between the tears, scratching the rough fur around his neck, “We’ve been together since the start, haven’t we Donnie?”

Aziraphale was confused at that, having not even named the dog himself but he was just so pleased to see Crowley being actually vulnerable for once, he didn’t want to interrupt. The Collie was all over Crowley, having now pinned him on the floor of the bookshop to scatter licks all over the demon’s face.

Aziraphale thought that Crowley would surely put a stop to this any moment now.

But he didn’t.

Crowley knew about reincarnation, everyone did, but he didn’t assume it extended to things like hellhounds. He would’ve thought they’d be labelled as too devious to deserve a second life yet here Dondun was, in front of him with those same big eyes and the same excitement, just a different body. He even yapped like the little hellhound he knew.

“Where did you find him?” Crowley asked slowly, suddenly fearing his companion would be cruelly ripped away from him once again.

“In the shelter!” Aziraphale declared proudly. He originally went looking for a cat after seeing one in a cafe that he was doting over but once he met the excitable dog he simply couldn’t resist, “I thought the bookshop could use a little more life.”

“I can’t believe you’d ever volunteer to get something that could hurt your precious books,” Crowley laughed weakly, wrapping his arms around the dog.

“Well I had planned to train him but it seems he’s taken quite a liking to you already. And you already gave him a name!” The angel fussed playfully.

“It’s always been his name. Dondun. Donnie is much nicer though,” Crowley corrected.

“Always?” The angel queried.

That’s how Crowley ended up sitting down with Aziraphale and Donnie and explaining his brief stint in the Beasts department. He told Aziraphale all about Donnie’s mother and how he was abandoned. He recounted the late nights he spent nursing the pup and he also recalled the heartbreak of Donnie’s death.

The angel and the demon housed many dogs in the bookshop after that point. Many breeds, all living entirely different lives but each one had the same big brown eyes. It always hurt when another pup would eventually leave their lives but Crowley held the small comfort in his heart that Donnie would always find his way back home, their souls irrevocably linked.

[sinfulpunishment]

✎ᝰ┆Dog Bites

─❏ Warnings: none

─❏ Characters: Chuuya Nakahara

─❏ Synopsis: Good dogs behave and bad dogs bite, so where does Chuuya lie?

─❏ A/N: it took me so long to think of what to write about for chuuya and then the most obvious thing hit me: dogs. so here’s my first chuuya writing, enjoy! also i wanted to put ‘i’m your man’ by mitski with this but if won’t let me, just know that it’s the song for this post

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Bad dogs bite.

Good dogs are loyal, they obey, they stay put, stay quiet. Good dogs don’t beg, they don’t whine, they don’t play rough. Good dogs take care of their owner, they cuddle or sleep at the end of the bed if that’s what their owner wants, they can be trusted home alone, outside of their kennel. Good dogs aren’t scary.

This collar is so tight, and it hurts. I can hardly breath and I can hear my heart pounding, I hate hearing my own heartbeat. Each time I get a new owner, the collar tightens more and I can feel the hook used for the leash against my jugular, it makes it hard to speak—difficult to bark.

Good dogs don’t bark though because barking is annoying, barking gets you yelled at, barking gets you a one-way ticket to sleeping outside again. So maybe it’s better to not be able to bark.

Even bad dogs can’t help but be hopelessly loyal, it’s almost pitiful considering that no one really loves a bad dog. Imagine being loyal to someone who doesn’t even love you back.

All dogs are loyal, it’s just how they are, they can’t help it. Someone outstretched their hand to it and it can’t help but take the hand and follow, it doesn’t know the person’s true intentions. I mean, how could it know? It’s just some dumb dog. Dogs are animals, that’s all they’ll ever be.

I can fight back, I’ll kick and punch and scream. But that’s what bad dogs do, good dogs just listen and obey. Why question anything? Dogs don’t need to know why things happen, they’re just pets—accessories. It’s natural for people to stand up for themselves and fight for what’s right, some are even praised for that. Not dogs though, they don’t get to stand up for themselves. They can’t even tell what’s good for them anyways.

It’s not as if I want to bite. I bite to survive, but would survival be easier if I just remained docile no matter what? Do they consider getting me to listen and do as I’m told “domesticating” me? The thought of that makes my stomach churn and makes my fists clench.

Bad dogs aren’t born, they’re made. But, it will never be the fault of the owner truly, so long as they can twist the story that way. Maybe the dog just never listened, or just started doing that one day. It’s the dog’s fault.

I want to be good. I stay loyal to those who help me, they have my back so I have theirs, it’s simple. I try my best to do what’s going to help make things better for those I care about, even if they don’t see it that way. However, loyalties falter sometimes. Things change so fast, and suddenly you’re bad, you’re doing the wrong thing and none of what you’ve done beforehand matters or can save you from judgment. Now you’re a bad dog and you’re all alone.

I bite because that’s what I know, and because of that I’m a threat. I’m scary. Yet no one thinks to comfort me, no one thinks to tell me that there are other ways to protect yourself without biting. Not that it matters now if someone comforted me, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.

The collar is tight and it’s hard to breathe, it’s hard to bark, but once I get used to the tightness it doesn’t hurt anymore. Suddenly the pressure becomes soothing, it’s not scary anymore. I can adapt to breathe well, I don’t need to bark as much anymore anyways. New loyalties have been set.

I’m hopelessly loyal, it’s almost pathetic. I bite sometimes but I also do as I’m told, I have free range but I bark frequently, I sleep just on the end of the bed but I don’t get too close. I’m trained to act accordingly but I still have some free will.

Am I a bad dog?

— Chuuya Nakahara

A stray.

[nosaviorsinthewild]

No Saviors Dynamics  ♡ Atlas

Shani: Will kill or die for her, no questions asked and has sworn to protect her always, even from himself. 

Free: He actually appreciates Free. He knows that they don’t trust him, but they’re the only wolf that he would trust to protect her as diligently as he would, if ever he for some reason can’t. He appreciates that Free found The Kennel and essentially brought Shani back into his life. He watches them closely, because he knows that they do not share his feelings, but he is no threat to Shani or to them, so he never has any fear of them, even though he is well aware that they would cause serious damage, if not death if the two ever fought each other.

Little Alpha: They were acquaintances as humans and became wolves at the same time. They served their time in The Kennel together and were top picks for Commander’s hunting pack. Part of him wished that he could save them, but he knows that they are too far gone in Commander’s lessons for that to happen. He fears them ever figuring out any information, because he knows that their only purpose is to do Commander’s bidding. So, he has a healthy fear of them and works hard to keep them off of the team’s trail. 

Riggs: They are unlikely allies who do not know if they can ever trust each other after the things that they have seen each other do, but then again, nobody else understands either of their thought processes like the other, BECAUSE of what they both went through and had to do to survive The Kennel. They each have somebody here that they care about, so they want to believe that the other genuinely cares and wants to do right, but they also can’t tell.

Bane: Ugh. Hates him. Atlas considers Bane more of a wild dog than a wolf. He is constantly sniffing around Free and Shani. He does NOTHING that a wolf is supposed to, by Atlas’ standards nor by Free’s, nor by Riggs,’ and he is content to be this way. He doesn’t train to get better or attempt feats for the future. He is far more arrogant than any of his skills seem to indicate that he should be and he is inappropriate and unprofessional. He reminds Atlas of The Wastelands and Atlas hated growing up there. Bane could be a spokesperson for it, because he is practically textbook Wastelands trash... but as a werewolf.

Commander: She was cruel to him, but he spent several years in her service and has conflicted feelings about himself and about her because of it. He wants to stop her, but he also believes that she is doing what she thinks is best for her world and he agrees with her to a certain extent that wolves can’t just run free, especially among humans. But, he doesn’t agree that they should go through what she puts them through, so he will do what he can to stop her, even if he accidentally sometimes defends her name.

[trivialbob]

This weekend I’m home alone. I asked my brother about going out to dinner tonight, just the two of us. He invited me to his place downtown where we could walk to any number of restaurants.

Depending who you listen to, downtown Minneapolis could be one of two things: A place where you shout so your friends hear you over all the gunfire and screams of shooting victims. Or a vibrant place, thriving like no city has ever thrived before.

Obviously the truth is somewhere in the middle of all that.

Today has been nice, so I rode the scooter (Suzuki Burgman) over there. Jim and I had a beer on his 20th floor patio and looked at the city. I kept my back firmly against the wall, never trusting that railing.

We then walked to a restaurant. An Irish pub was our second choice, after trying a new sports bar and restaurant I’d never heard of. The Timberwolves had a home game, so some places were full before the game started. Streets were also busy with fans. There’s safety in numbers--even one of the most problematic bus stops downtown was trouble free as we strolled past it.

The last time I walked around downtown Minneapolis was in the summer of 2020, in the middle of a Thursday. The place was a ghost town.

Tonight I liked seeing businesses running again. I miss when I could sometimes go to the office, for a change of pace from working at home. My office building never reopened after COVID hit. It’s been sold to a developer, to be torn down. Apartments, condos, and some street level businesses will take its place.

The ride home was fun too. It was only 50°F, but I have good cool weather riding gear. Now home, I have three dogs happy to see me. Sulley the puppy was really good. I didn’t kennel him for the few hours I was gone. He didn’t mess up anything. Maybe I’ll bring him to the Minnehaha dog park again tomorrow as a reward.

[myddrinmob]

Coenen Onnen

It’s long past dusk, but the market never truly stops. Only changes faces - vendors, stalls, patrons - like a mummer in a masked show. The stranger who stalks through its crowded thoroughfare is entirely unfamiliar with its many guises: so, though he strides like a predator, he looks over his shoulder like prey. In the hidden nook to which he is heading - though, pertinently, cannot yet see - wait two figures. One is the owner, short and middling in age, surrounded by the accoutrements of high war. We might assume he is a master armourer and weaponsmith. The other is in shadow.

Chapter two! This episode probably gets the top spot for 'least changed from canon'. The original episode is just so good: the beginning of a rapport between Merlin and Arthur, growing to trust; first showing of the worth of commoners vs nobility in Camelot; Gwen! Gwen! Gwen!

So what changes are there? Well, for starters.

Why does Arthur have literally no other servants?

ARTHUR My chambers are a complete mess. My clothes need washing. My, uh, armour needs repairing. My boots need cleaning. My dogs need exercising. My fireplace needs sweeping. My bed needs changing. And someone needs to muck out my stables…

Like, arguably none of this should be Merlin's job. The world of BBC Merlin exists in a quasi-historical fantasy medieval setting, sure, so we have wriggle room, but even in the earliest and lowliest of post-antiquity royal households, most of these are done by different people. Merlin, as a personal manservant, might organise them, and get different servants to do them, but he largely won't be doing them himself.

A castle would have a laundry, where they'd probably also do repairs, and may have the bootboys too. They'd have a dedicated stable staff, farriers and stablehands and horse breeders and so on - depending on the household, they'd have a Marshal or it's equivalent to oversee all that. The knights would have pages and squires and drill masters and armoursmiths - who would probably be different from the weaponsmiths, and definately different from smiths that make general goods, like nails. You'd have kennel masters for the dogs and chambermaids to do the cleaning and -

You get the gist.

I get why all this wasn't shown - budget, rotating cast of extras, it's just easier to have Merlin involved in literally every aspect of Arthur's life - but! I think it also kneecaps Merlin's character.

This is the tip of the iceburg of my ongoing quibble with the series regarding Merlin the perpetual servant. I'll get into it more in future episodes, but essentially I think the maintenance of the shows initial premise - high school au Arthuriana, Merlin-as-servant - reduced the potential character growth we could have seen, and a real fulfilment of the idea of Arthur and Merlin as equals (two sides of the same coin, anyone?).

It's also really funny to imagine Arthur driving away everyone who might be in his service, to the point he doesn't even have a squire. Like damn, how bad an employer are you?

The only other thing that got changed was the weird...thing... between Arthur and Morgana. Whatever that was, it died a death midway through season one and was never addressed again. I'm not against weird incest vibes in my Arthurian media - it'd be terribly genre-blind of me to be so - but it's not what I'm going for here. Or at least, Arthur and Morgana themselves don't see each other that way - they have lived too long as childhood peers to do so - and if it ever comes up, it'll be in the way that Gwen mentions it. People on the outside of the relationship assume that Uther means to betroth them at some point, to the pairs unbridled objection. Everyone else unknowingly condones incest, but not the actual participants.

That's it for ep two - ep three is already up as well, so I'll do a bts on that sometime soon.

In other news, our priestess is back >.>

[elvencloud]

I sorted my dog's kibble today - A reflection on 33 years of life

Meet the crew, Left to right: Rex, Dabbs, and Nanaki. Dabbs is the subject of this morning as he is a picky eater. I've never really had a dog be picky beyond wanting different food or their sibling's food instead.

Growing up myself, I wasn't picky. I ate my vegetables, my fruit, I disliked sugar as a rule ("It will get me in trouble." was my response, but truthfully things were too sweet for me.) I discovered two things I didn't like as a kid, okra and rye bread. Honestly, sometimes I didn't really have much of a choice. My family didn't have a lot and my dad would joke "Eat it... or wear it." Except fish. Gods almighty, I try and try - and you culinary geniuses that can turn aquatic life into delectable culinary art, I applaud you. Food poisoning from a fishy smelling piece of fish has tainted the thought in my brain. Fish makes my body rebel, revolt. It's POISON it screams. Even worse, fish was a favorite of his diet. My dad tried everything. Have you ever had Ceviche? Ever hear of it?

It's a peruvian dish. I'm going to quote the recipe I grabbed the image from:

"...usually served as an appetizer. It’s generally made from raw fresh fish or shrimp, that’s marinated in lemon and/or lime citrus juices. The acidity in the citrus cures the fish causing it to denature the proteins and become firm and opaque while absorbing flavor.

After the seafood has sort of cooked in a way other ingredients are tossed in such as onions, cilantro, peppers and tomatoes."

This was one of the many ways my dad tried with me. It didn't smell fishy, and I loved fresh pico/salsa. I'd eat it with a spoon. He tried shrimp, tuna, cod, salmon, shark. No go. Eventually we came to an agreement after fighting for years about it: "You have to try it once a year, otherwise I won't push the issue. You must give it an honest try, and if you still don't like it, we'll move on."

If there was one thing my dad did right: He kept his promises the best he could. It must be in the blood. *********************************************************************

So over time, Dabbs has been eating less and less. Fighting about eating his food, throwing kibble in his kennel around - and over time we realized he doesn't like the flavor. "Eat it or wear it." I replied. Sometimes I don't realize how much of my dad is in here. *taps my head* Over more time, we discovered it's specific kibble he doesn't like. The orange ones.

***********************************

- "I like the yellow ones." (Thor, Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet, Stargate SG:1) *******************************************************************

Again, we stood strong, not sure if there are different nutrients in each piece. "You're not getting any different food." He ate less and less to our frustration. Until this morning, staring at his mostly full bowl of food from the night before it clicked: Dogs are really just toddlers anyway, right?

Imagine: If every time you put a pizza roll in my mouth there was a 1/5 chance you would get sardine flavor. Would you eat? I would eat enough to survive, maybe. After a bit of encouragement, Dabbs tried the mixture. Initially, he rolled it around in his mouth, pretending to eat to placate me. I could see his eyes as he ate a fourth, then a fifth piece - "I haven't tasted the orange ones." He emptied the bowl. Enthusiastically once he realized he was hungry. And I was proud. ********************************************************************

Not to get too deep, but I lost my dad 20 years ago this year. I forget how many lessons he taught me in 13 years including: The kid will be all right. You just have to trust in him and talk to him. And he's right - I think I turned out all right. I might even be a great dad one day. When and if: they'll be all right too.

I think I owe fish another chance: It is my birthday after all... and I made a promise.

[rapidtruthqm]

A Story of Fear and Loss

This is a story of fear and loss.

It is not a very pleasant tale to tell, for it is all so sad. It has its bright side, no doubt, and yet one cannot altogether like it, nor help being a little ashamed of the hero.

It all began with a dog. A big, fierce, black Newfoundland dog, named Carlo. I had him to walk and feed, but he was so fierce that the other servants all hated him, and they would never let me touch him. They said that he had killed a child, but this they never proved. One day the dog got out, and ran away. He was gone for two days. When he came back he was so thin and mangy-looking that I knew that something must have happened to him. He went to his kennel, and would eat nothing that we could get for him, nor would he take food from our hands. His tail was gone, and the rest of his hair fell out. He looked as though he was dying, and at last he died, and was buried under the great chestnut-tree in the orchard.

We never heard anything more of his master; but after that there came to us a man with a letter. It was in an old envelope with faded directions written in pencil. It was directed to me, and had been twice round the world before it reached me. The man was a convict who had done fourteen years' penal servitude, and was now going out into the world to earn his bread honestly with the help of God. He was a fine-looking man, but he had a look of trouble on his face which I did not like. I asked him why he had come, and what he wanted. He told me that he was sorry to disturb me, but that he was very weak from want of food, and that if he did not get help that he must surely die. He asked me if I had a dog. I said that I had. I told him of Carlo. He said that his name was Carlo too.

Then I saw that he was a dog-fancier. He went on to say that he had heard of Carlo from the master who had bred him. He had been so fond of him that he would give almost anything to get him back again.

I gave the man food, and let him rest for the night. Then I asked him all about Carlo. He told me that his master had been a gentleman living in the north of Italy. That he had gone to England upon business, and that while he was away he had left Carlo in his care. He had been very fond of his dog, but he had to leave him alone for many months. When he returned he found that Carlo was dead.

I thought the man's story strange and his manner anxious. He said that he would work for me and do anything to get my dog back, but he would not say why he wished to have him. I felt that it would not do to trust him too far, so I sent him away to the workhouse for the night, telling him that I would let him know the result in the morning.

The next morning I sent for a policeman and told him what the man had told me. We went together to see Carlo's grave, and found that it was freshly dug, and that there were footsteps round it. This made us think that it would not be a bad thing to find out a little more about the man who had lost the dog. So we followed his footsteps.

It took us all day to follow them to London, for they were very difficult to track. When we got there we went to all sorts of places, and in some of the most low haunts of crime we found out all about the man who called himself Carlo's master. But it was a hard life which he had led, and I am not sure that it was not a merciful release from it when a burglar shot him down in an alley where he had gone to watch for his robberies. He had told his wife that his name was Carlo too, so that he might live for ever in the memory of his dear dog.

And now I come to the end of my story. My wife has the dog, and Carlo has found his master in heaven, for his master was a good man and had lived well. So let us forgive the dog his fault, and be thankful for the life which he has given to us.

[pasenwe]

He never knew a stranger, Pregnancy Announcement Uncle New Uncle To Be T Shirt 

Pregnancy Announcement Uncle New Uncle To Be T Shirt He never knew a stranger, Pregnancy Announcement Uncle New Uncle To Be T Shirt and every animal that entered my home was his friend and companion. He must have trusted me. He earned their love, admiration and respect. When he passed, he waited, on the floor in my room for me to come home. I ran to him throwing my purse and groceries to the ground, it was his time. I don’t know how long he laid there waiting for me so he could wink his beautiful green eyes at me and hoarsely whisper his “momma” meow one more time…. It was devastating. I held his lifeless body beside myself. 17 long years of memories that even now some 14 years later I can recall like they were yesterday. From the first moment i saw him, a tiny gooey eyed ball of matted fur…The most amazing cat that I was blessed to have.

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I’m Going To Be A Big Brother Again Pregnancy Announcement T Shirt Even the self proclaimed cat haters I’m Going To Be A Big Brother Again Pregnancy Announcement T Shirtup and comforted me when they learned of his passing. His memory is carefully tucked in my heart and I will always think of him when I hear a cat meow or see a black cat. My brother who detested having a smelly cat now has 2. One is a beautiful shiny black cat with piercing green eyes. He said when he and his partner saw him they didn’t hesitate to adopt him because he reminded them of Exodus. Like me they weren’t even looking to get a cat but there was Ringo, a tiny scared kitty at the back of a kennel.

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I’m Going To Be A Big Brother Again Pregnancy Announcement T Shirt Chispa found me when she was I’m Going To Be A Big Brother Again Pregnancy Announcement T Shirt 10 weeks old. She convinced my whole apartment building to feed her, 4 out of 5 doors had plates with milk and food outside. One day she decided to move in with me, for a full year she wouldn’t set a paw outside the door, even if I left it open.

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Anthony Edwards Ant cold Minnesota Timberwolves Basketball shirt He is very Anthony Edwards Ant cold Minnesota Timberwolves Basketball shirt . He is very in-tune to my emotions. When I am sad, I swear he knows, and will lick my tears away and get very quiet. He loves to go bye-bye in the car. He absolutely loves fast food drive throughs especially Arby’s roast beef . I am sure he will be my only dog. I will never have another pet as long as I have him. I can’t imagine my life without him, but it will happen some day.

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Aesthetic Make A Woman Cum For Once Sarcastic Empowerment Women T shirt So now I live with a dog. I Aesthetic Make A Woman Cum For Once Sarcastic Empowerment Women T shirt a need to nurture, suffered from Empty Nest Syndrome terribly, all my friends had dogs and he was the cutest, fluffiest little puppy I ever saw. He is my baby. He travels very well, which is good since our family is all over the US. His needs are love me, food, toys, has to go out to potty several times a day, rain or shine.

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Kiss Me I’m Jewish Saint Patrick Day T Shirt I personally would take my Kiss Me I’m Jewish Saint Patrick Day T Shirt to their home and simply say, I’m pressing charges for assault against your daughter and neglect on your behalf, unless u send your daughter outside and let my daughter cut her hair in return. This may sound childish and mean, but I guarantee that if this happened, the culprits wouldn’t do anything of the sort again. I will say that I upvoted the most adult and best approachable answer in this thread. Either way best wishes to all. Also, keep in mind, these girls aren’t anyone’s friends.

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Awesome Dads Have Daughters And Tattoos Father’s Day T Shirt My cat Exodus, rest his soul. Upon first Awesome Dads Have Daughters And Tattoos Father’s Day T Shirt him at a hot flea market I couldn’t unsee him. All the other cats in the kennel played and jumped around like kittens do, but back in the corner was a tiny black kitty with his back to the front of the cage. After much coexing “kitty, here kitty” and getting the attention of every other cat, he remained almost lifeless, refusing to feed into the hype of humans. I pushed stuff out of the way obsessed to see his kitty face. Was he even alive? It was so hot out and there were so many kitties in that cage, what if he had died of heat exhaustion!

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Enter Dying Night Shirt He needs to be bathed, Enter Dying Night Shirt , clipped at the groomers. He barks at loud noises, fireworks, gun shots, thunderstorms, air nailers. He barks at dogs and cats on TV, anyone who comes to the door, the garbage men, the propane man, the mail carrier, you name it. I have taught him some tricks; he can shake, smile, speak with an inside voice, and sneeze on command. He can dance and twirl, and put his front paws together like he is praying or begging.

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French Bulldog American Flag 4Th Of July Independence Day T Shirt My French Bulldog American Flag 4Th Of July Independence Day T Shirtfelt sorry for him but wasn’t sure this timid kitten was right for a household with kids, so he moved a step over to the next cage full of a litter of active kittens. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that tiny 6-week-old shy kitten emerge from his hiding place and pick up a toy mouse with his teeth.

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Topps Stadium Club Baseball Shirt The second time (a couple of months later) she Topps Stadium Club Baseball Shirt  back with no collar. The elastic must have broken again, and she left it in situ. We waited for several days, hoping she would bring it back, but she didn’t. So we went and bought another collar and put it on. This must have jogged her memory, and within a couple of hours she came right to the back door again – holding the old collar in her mouth.

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[whoreiaki-kakyoin]

Capo's Pretty Puppy 🐾🎀

This is an art trade piece I had the pleasure of writing for @brattythickums 💞 Fem! reader x Bruno Bucciarati, pet play, anal, mirror sex, collars, slight choking kink and possible degradation if you squint, reader has a pussy.

You stretched lazily from the comfort of your puppy cage as sunlight streamed through the window. The warmth of it was pleasant, and you sighed as you wondered idly what time it was. Your master had said he had errands to run, but surely he’d be back soon. You had no desire to be anything other than a good pet while he was gone, though. There was no clock visible from your kennel, but that was fine by you. Bruno was your master, and he worried about things like what time it was, while you only had to wait for his return with patient, trusting devotion.

Bruno was a good owner: always sweet and gentle, but firm if you needed scolding or punishment, which you didn’t often. You would take a punishment well if you had to, but you thrived on his praise as if it was air. Pleasing him made you happy. And with such an obedient puppy, Bruno was a doting master. You had all you could ever need or want: your elegant satin cushion on the couch, and the softest dog bed, tail plugs and paw mitts, and as many tummy rubs and kisses as you could ever desire. 

Perhaps best of all, Bruno had an array of collars for you for different moods and occasions. A man of discerning taste, Bruno never settled for less than perfection, finding designer collars, or ordering them custom-made from luxurious materials. There was an elegant collar of black leather with swirls etched into the material to match your owner’s signature lace. Along the side, right over your pulse point, the words “property of Bruno Bucciarati” were branded into the supple leather. You had collars with heart shaped tags that read “Bruno’s sweet pup” or “Bruno’s bitch.” Each one made your heart flutter with the knowledge that you belonged, utterly and completely, to him.

Today, you rested comfortably in your cage, a simple pink collar with the word “slut” emblazoned in small diamond letters hugging your neck. A small zipper charm adorned the closure, yet again signaling whose pet you were. You dozed in and out, snuggling into the cushions lining the cage floor. Even your cage was a dream. Twinkling fairy lights adorned the nearby wall, and a sheer, gauzy white curtain hung from the ceiling to drape over your kennel. You were the luckiest pup. You wiggled your hips contentedly, feeling the swish of your tail plug against your skin.

Heat flared in your stomach as you remembered Bruno nudging you gently awake and sliding the plug into your snug little hole this morning, the flared tip disappearing past the tight ring of muscle. Some days, Bruno would prep and plug you in front of a mirror, letting you watch the stretch of your hole as it swallowed the plug. It always made you squirm and whine from your vantage point on the bed, laying over Bruno’s lap. He’d chuckle softly when you shyly buried your face against him, wiggling your hips as you adjusted to the feeling of fullness. And every time, even on days like today where there was no mirror, only Bruno prodding and stretching your little hole as you lay obediently, mind still hazy and fogged with sleep, you were always rewarded with an affectionate scratch on the head and murmur of “That’s my good puppy.”

You preened at the attention, even now— feeling the stretch, the fullness, of the plug inside you, and the softness of the furry tail brushing your ass and thighs. You were Bruno’s good pup. Always. You drank in his affection readily, and always showed him your adoration for him, as well.  Padding over to lay in his lap when he seemed sad or tired. Giving gentle licks to his fingers when he’d pet you. Bruno loved to sit in the evenings with a book or glass of wine while you laid your head in his lap. He’d feed you by hand, warm affection sparkling in his eyes as he watched you and whispered praise. You almost wished you had a real tail that you could wag so he could always see how happy he made you. He found it endearing when you’d make the plug tail wag for him, and that was enough for both of you. It was a very good life, you thought to yourself as you curled up with a yawn.

You doze lightly, barely realizing time has passed until you feel a warm hand nudging your side.

“Amore?” You hear a soft, sleepy whine rise from your throat as you start to stir. You become aware of a hand resting on your waist, its owner shaking you gently. “Puppy, I’m home.”

You peel your eyes open, blinking up at Bruno blearily as he greets you with a gentle smile. He laughs when you yawn, his hands smoothing your hair away from your face. “Did you have a nice nap?” You butt your head softly into his chest, nuzzling and licking at his cheek. “Mmm. Good girl. I missed you so much, tesoro.”

You give your owner a few sloppy, eager kisses, perfectly becoming for an excitable puppy, before sitting back on your haunches again. You wiggle your hips in excitement, feeling your tail swish and earning an adoring grin from Bruno. “Sweet girl. Mia buona cucciola. I brought you a little something, my love.”

You cock your head questioningly, and Bruno bites back another chuckle. You truly were his puppy through and through. He scratches the top of your head, and you sigh happily as you feel your muscles relax. He always knew just how to coax you into that delicious fog of subspace, feeling completely adored and cared for and owned. You loved the praise, loved the reminders that you were his, his only. The collar sitting snugly around your neck was just one reminder among many.

You eye Bruno curiously as he produces a few shopping bags, furrowing your brow as you give him a questioning look.

“What is it? Speak, puppy.”

“All these bags? You spoil me.” He cups your cheek in his hand.

“And what if I think you’re a good girl who deserves to be spoiled now and then?” You meet his gaze shyly, and he continues. “It’s my job as your owner to pamper my pretty girl. Okay?” He cocks an eyebrow. “Speak.”

“Yes, master.” You pause. “Thank you.”

“My polite little puppy. You haven’t even seen the gifts yet. Let master unwrap them for you.” Your stomach flips in excitement as Bruno reaches into a bag. His gifts to you tended to result in some exciting nights, more often than not. Your eyes widen as he draws out a few sets of lingerie, light and lacy and sheer, and a delicate white leather collar, patterned with the same print as his signature suit. 

“Al mio cucciola piacono i suoi regali?” he murmurs with a smile, his voice low. You nodded eagerly, nuzzling at your master’s face again. “Eager puppy.” He holds the collar closer, tilting it in the light to show off the small crystals embedded in the supple material. “Would you like to try it on?” You nod again, and he chuckles, stepping back from your cage before beckoning a finger. “Come.” You crawl towards him dutifully, tail swishing as you near your master. “Sit.” You sit back, legs tucked underneath you, and Bruno crouches down to meet you. “Good girl.” With a small click, Bruno undoes the clasp of your collar before fastening the new one around your neck. It’s a practiced ritual, but one that feels sacred every time, your master securing the leather band around your neck before gently slipping a finger between the collar and your skin to give an experimental tug. 

“Mm. Not too tight?” You shake your head, and he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “One last gift, then,” he tells you, reaching once more into a bag. Your breath catches in your chest as he pulls out a leash to match your new collar. “Oh? You look like you like it, yes, puppy?” You can’t help a small whine as you nod, heart fluttering at the thought of Bruno putting you on a leash. “Let’s try it out, then.” He clips the leash to your new collar, giving an experimental tug that’s enough to elicit a gasping, whining sound from your throat. “My, my, I see. Puppy likes her new leash.” 

You whine again, eyeing him with a pleading expression. “Dolce cucciola. All right, I won’t tease. You’ve waited so patiently for master, haven’t you?” You give another frantic nod, as if to say yes, I’ve been good, I’ve been so good, master, see! Bruno stands, leash in hand, and gives the gentlest of tugs. “Come, puppy. Be a good girl and come with me.” 

It’s all you can do not to trip over yourself in your eagerness, though the leash forces you to follow Bruno’s pace. You will yourself to crawl at his speed instead of scrambling to the bedroom. The feeling of being leashed is a new one, and it sends heat right through your body– particularly an aching, wet heat that settles between your thighs, throbbing insistently. By the time you get to the bedroom, you could swear every last molecule within you is vibrating. Bruno gathers the leash in his hand, giving you less slack.

“Heel.” Obedient as ever, you come to a standstill as you gaze up at Bruno desperately, holding back the whine that begs to pass your lips. Good pups wait for their orders, you remind yourself. Good pups don’t whine and beg. You allow yourself only a slight wiggle of your hips, showing your excitement to your master as you wag your tail. Bruno chuckles as he pets your head. “Stay, dolcezza. Can my puppy stay?” You hold as still as possible, the part of you that needs to be good for master more important than your need to be touched, fucked, satisfied… I can stay, the needy, puppy part of your brain thinks. I can stay, I can be good! 

“Good girl, tesoro. Good girl.” You let out a whine as Bruno pets you, nuzzling at his hand adoringly. “Such a smart puppy for master. Can my puppy fetch?” You eye him curiously, and he smiles. “Go to the toy chest and fetch me your vibrator wand, cucciola. Bring it back here to me, okay?” Your heart pounds in your chest, though you whine softly when Bruno releases the leash. “Sweet girl… Master can use your leash again when you’ve brought me your toy, okay?” You nod, satisfied, beaming up at Bruno. 

With another wag of your hips, you make your way across the room to the toy chest by the closet. You nose the lid open, rummaging to find the toy Bruno asked for. You pull the wand out of the chest, only to hear Bruno clear his throat across the room. The sight that greets you is unsurprising: your master raising his eyebrows with an amused smirk. His message is clear: Good dogs don’t use their hands. You whine softly, taking the wand in your mouth with an apologetic wag of your hips, and Bruno nods. “Mmhmm. That’s better. We know how good dogs fetch, don’t we? Come, tesoro.” He beckons, and you crawl eagerly back to him before dropping the toy in his outstretched hand. “Good girl. On the bed, now, puppy.” You climb onto the bed, positioning yourself on your hands and knees for Bruno. “Present yourself for me.” You reach behind yourself to spread your lips, putting your dripping cunt on full display. Behind you, you hear Bruno bite back a low groan as hands settle on your waist.

“You’re so wet for me, mi amore… such a cute little puppycunt.” You feel a finger slide between your folds, stroking with just enough pressure that you sigh into the touch with a soft, keening noise. Bruno withdraws his hand after only a moment, leaving your hips to rock back in vain, chasing the motion of his fingers and meeting nothing. 

“Ohh, poor puppy,” he coos, and you whine as you feel yourself clench around nothing. He brings his hand to your lips, and you can see your own wetness glistening on his fingers. “You made quite the mess, tesoro. I know you can’t help it– you’re just a little puppy, and you get excited. Be good and clean me up.” You ache with need as you lick your master’s fingers clean, tasting yourself on his fingers. You knew you were just a needy mutt, thinking with your pussy, but you needed him so badly. Your mind was a haze of arousal and submissive bliss, but the thoughts of Bruno and master and want and fuck were insistent. 

“Is it mean of master to tease?” You can hear the smirk in his voice, and you whimper. “Mm? Does my little puppy want to be fucked and filled? I think you’d be humping the mattress like a horny mutt if you thought you didn’t need permission.” You can feel the softness of your tail lift from your thighs, and then you’re letting out a sharp gasp as your master twists the plug inside you. You bury your face in the sheets with a moan, only to feel a tug at the base of your neck– Bruno using your leash to pull you back up. 

“Poor, needy puppy.” He tugs your leash again, the leather of your collar tightening deliciously against your neck. “Come here.” You crawl over to face Bruno, and he smiles almost wickedly. His eyes are dark with lust, and a shiver arcs down your spine as he eyes you with such pure desire. “You want to cum, don’t you? You want to be fucked?” You start to nod, but he holds up a hand and you still. “Beg.” “Master, please, I need you, need your cock, please!” You paw at his legs, nuzzling against him as you plead. “Been so patient all day, missed you… want you inside me, want to cum for you, please!” Bruno smiles, eyes twinkling with adoration. 

“All right. Good puppy. What kind of master would I be not to reward my good pet?” He maneuvers you with firm hands, turning you to play with your plug once again. He fucks the toy slowly in and out of your hole a few times before sliding it out, coaxing a pathetic mewl from your mouth at the loss of fullness. “Look how stretched you are for me,” he coos. “Prepped for your master already.” 

It takes you a moment to register what he’s saying, even as you hear the telltale sounds of lube being uncapped. Bruno’s lithe fingers test your stretched little hole, with one, and then two, slipping past your rim to scissor and crook inside you. It’s still a stretch when you feel the head of Bruno’s cock prod at your entrance before pushing inside you in one smooth motion. Enough of a stretch that you cry out and clutch the sheets as your master fills you so completely where before you had been so achingly empty.

“Buona cucciola,” Bruno soothes you, stroking your back in long, smooth motions. Buona cucciola. Good puppy. His good pet. Your hips give a small, involuntary twitch back against your master’s cock as you gasp out another moan. “Shhh, master’s got you. I’ve got you, puppy.” He grips your waist, groaning as he gives a shallow rock of his hips. “Cazzo,” he hisses out. “Fuck, you feel so good, tesoro. Tight little pup.” You let yourself rock back into his slow thrusts, the stretch of his cock inside you gradually feeling more pleasurable. You feel Bruno pull your leash taut, fucking into you as the smooth leather makes clear who’s in charge. “Master,” you plead, and Bruno huffs out a laugh. His warm breath fans over the back of your neck as he covers you, fucking steadily in and out of your tight, perfect hole. You could feel your neglected cunt dripping down your thighs.

“Feels good, puppy?” “Master… so good. P…please…” “Please what?” A particularly hard thrust makes you yelp and grip the bedsheets.

“Need… need you, more, please…” You’re half expecting him to chide you for your impatience. Instead, he stills his hips for a moment.

“Poor puppy, you need more, don’t you? You want to cum, sweet girl?”

“Yes, master! Please, want to cum so bad!” You whine as you feel Bruno pull out, but he tugs at your leash a moment later. 

“Come here, cucciola. Let me take care of you.” You crawl up the bed to him, understanding what he means when he situates you to face the mirror at the other end of the room– the one he reserves for teasing you with your plug. Bruno wastes no time in thrusting into you again, wrapping your leash around his hand as he pounds into you. With his free hand, he grabs your chin, forcing your gaze to the mirror. “What do you see, puppy?”

“I…” You moan as Bruno pinches one of your nipples. “Master… fucking me. I see- see myself taking master’s cock,” you gasp. 

“Mm.” Bruno’s bronzed skin bore a sheen of sweat, and he looked so domineering in the reflection in front of you, winding your leash tighter to press your collar against your neck. “Do you know what I see, cucciola?”

“Wh..what, master?” You hear a buzzing noise as your master fumbles with the vibrator, previously forgotten on the sheets beside you. A loud moan escapes you as he presses the toy against your clit, sending pleasure arcing up your spine.

“I see- ah- I see a needy. owned. bitch.”  You can hear his balls slap against your skin as his thrusts grow more erratic. “Is that what you see?” Bruno clicks the vibrator up a setting, a moan ripping from your throat involuntarily at the intensity of the sensations. You fix your eyes on your reflection, seeing your fucked-out, whorish expression, face flushed and tongue lolling out pathetically. Your lover– your master– was above you, eyes glinting with arousal. 

“Y…Yes, master!” You’re practically sobbing as Bruno raises the speed of the wand yet again, unable to get relief for your poor clit. 

“Look at yourself.” He grits out a low moan, his hips stuttering as he tips his head back. “Master’s pretty fuckmutt. My good girl… Fuck, shit, I’m gonna cum…”

“Master.. F…fill me, cum inside me,” you beg, and Bruno spurts inside you with a shout. He pulls sharply at your leash, cutting off your airflow as he rides out his orgasm. You barely last a moment later, reaching your climax with a cry as your lover murmurs “Good girl. Cum for me, sweetheart, good puppy” in your ear. You tremble as the cresting pleasure hits its peak, leaving you to collapse in a sweaty, fucked-out heap against the sheets. After a moment, Bruno pulls his softening cock carefully out of you, and you can feel him thumb your cheeks apart to admire your creampied ass.

“Such a good girl, taking master’s seed.” He fingers the mess back into you, laughing softly as you whine. “Shh, puppy, it’s okay. I want to keep my pretty girl from spilling a single drop.” With that, you feel the familiar sensation of your plug sliding back into you, holding the warm mess of Bruno’s cum inside you. You wiggle your hips, reveling in the sensation. 

“Thank you, master.” You smile as he lays next to you. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, cucciola. Ti amo sempre.” He kisses your temple, pulling you close as you nuzzle his face and neck. “Is my precious pet ready for another round?”

Ever the obedient puppy, you perk up. “Yes, master. Please.” Bruno’s lips meet yours in a tender kiss, and you melt into his touch as he scratches your head.

“That’s my good puppy.”

[waitimcomingtoo]

Adventures in Cat Sitting

Synopsis: Tom is not a cat person, but watches your cat anyway

Masterlist

“Hi baby.” You appeared in the doorway of the living room with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders and a nervous smile on your face. You had a big favor to ask of Tom and you already knew he wasn’t going to like it.

“Hi princess.” Tom sat up on the couch and noticed your face. “You look like you need something.”

“I might.” You shrugged as you sat down on his lap. He immediately wrapped his arms around you to keep you from falling off, clasping his hands together under your spine.

“Let me see if I can help you.” He chuckled as he tugged you closer by the blanket.

“So you know how I have to go away this week for my cousins wedding?” You began, slow as not to startle him.

“Yeah. I miss you already.” He pouted, making you laugh and kiss his lips.

“I miss you too, lover.” You ran your fingers though his hair. “So I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”

“Anything, Princess.” He smiled lazily at you. “What do you need?”

You tugged at his shirt for a moment and avoided eye contact, shrugging a little as if you hadn’t been planning this for days.

“Ineedyoutowatchmycat.” You said quickly.

“What?” Tom furrowed his eyebrows when he didn’t understand you.

“I need you to watch my cat?” You grimaced, finally looking at him. You knew how Tom felt about your cat from the many, many times he told you.

He wasn’t a cat person. Not at all. And your cat in particular seemed to be his sworn enemy. They never got along and you often had to hide him in another room when Tom was over.

“You mean he’s not going to be guarding the pits of hell?” Tom tilted his head in confusion, making you roll your eyes.

“He is not that bad.” You insisted. “You can survive a few days with him.”

“Uh Uh.” Tom shook his head firmly. “You know how I feel about cats. That’s my least favorite kind of pussy.”

Your jaw dropped as he laughed at his own joke, stopping when you smacked his arm.

“Don’t get fresh.” You scolded. “I just need you to watch my cat for a few days.”

“You don’t have a cat.” Tom disagreed. “You have whatever Pandora let out of her box.”

“Oatmeal is really sweet once he warms up to you.” You told him. “You haven’t spent enough time with him to do that.”

“Because every time I get close to him, he hisses at me.” Tom exclaimed.

“Not every time.” You said pointedly. “Just most times.”

“Can’t you put him in the kennel?” Tom whined, knowing he wasn’t going to get out of this.

“He’s not social and I haven’t found one I like.” You pouted, putting on puppy dog eyes to sway him.

“So drop it off in the forest for a few days and let it get some life experience.” Tom shrugged, earning himself another playful smack.

“Tom.” You groaned. “He’ll die out there.”

“We can only hope.” Tom mumbled under his breath.

“I think this will be good for you guys.” You ignored his comment. “You’re the two most important men in my life and I need you to get along.”

“How am I possibly on the same level as that heathen?” Tom held a hand over his chest like he was offended.

“I love you both so much and it kills me that you don’t get along.” You whined, stroking his cheek to pull him back.

“We’d get along just fine if he wasn’t such a bastard.” Tom snapped, making you gasp.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call my cat a bastard?” You asked. This was a conversation you had had many times as it was Toms preferred nickname for you cat. Tom shrunk down on the couch and looked at the ceiling as he blew out an annoyed huff.

“Sorry.” He mumbled.

“This could be good for us too.” You assured him. “Watching a pet is an integral part in any relationship. I’m giving you all my trust.”

“You’re not giving me your trust.” Tom laughed sharply. “You’re giving me your fat ass demon cat.”

“Come on, please baby?” You jutted yourself bottom lip out. “Oatmeal might grow on you.”

“Aw. Like genital warts?” Tom smiled sarcastically.

“No.” You said flatly. “Not like genital warts.”

“Why do I have to watch him?” Tom complained like a child. “Why can’t you just leave him in a box with some food and water?”

“Would you like that if I did that to you?” You raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.

“If there was alcohol in the box, then yeah.” He shrugged. “I might just enjoy myself.”

You realized you weren’t getting anywhere and pulled away from him with a new approach ready.

“Fine.” You sighed and dramatically looked away. “If you don’t want to watch my cat, I’ll just have to find a boyfriend who will.”

You started to get up but Tom immediately pulled you back, making you giggle as he held on firmly. He had finally caved and you knew it.

“Woah woah wait.” He nuzzled into your neck and left kisses there before sighing. “I’ll watch your bastard child.”

“You’ll what?” You texted him.

“I’ll watch your precious fur baby.” He said through a fake smile. You twisted your body and wrapped your arms around him, kissing every inch of his face you could reach.

“Thank you.” You gushed. “You’re a life saver.”

“You’re welcome, darling.” He chuckled as he lovingly rubbed your back. “You better remember this if I ever need a kidney.”

“I don’t think the two things carry equal weight.” You tilted your head playfully and laughed.

“They don’t.” He agreed. “You’re welcome for letting you off easy.”

Rolling your eyes at your boyfriend, you decided not to fight back since he was doing you a favor. Instead, you opted for kissing him long and deep to show your appreciation.

“Thanks for doing this.” You mumbled against his lips. “I know you don’t like cats so I appreciate it. I owe you one.”

“Mind if I collect my toll now?” Tom smirked as he flipped you onto your back, making you laugh loudly.

“Not at all.”

Sunday

“This is his food.” You handed Tom a pink bag with whiskers stitched on. “He gets two cups a day, dry at morning and wet at night. He won’t eat unless you scratch him behind the ears after you put it in his bowl.”

“I’m not putting my hands anywhere near that thing.” Tom shook his head as he took the bag. “It has a bloodlust.”

Oatmeal was nestled in your arms, staring at Tom with a vengeance. Tom stared back with wide eyes, already feeling his pulse quicken.

“No he does not.” You cooed as you scratched Oatmeal behind the ears. “Make sure to keep an eye on his water bowl and never give him milk. It’s bad for his teeth.”

“Right. Wouldn’t want him losing his razor sharp little death traps.” Tom said sarcastically, seemingly speaking directly to the cat. “If he bites me, I’ll bite him right back.”

“Tom.” You sighed deeply. “I shouldn’t have to say this, but do not bite my cat.”

Oatmeal suddenly bared his teeth and hissed at Tom, making Tom gasp.

“Did you hear what he just said to me?” Tom exclaimed as he pointed to the cat.

“He’s just getting used to you, is all.” You shrugged as you set Oatmeal down on the ground. He took a careful step towards Tom before hissing again.

“He did it again!” Tom jumped into your arms in the style of Shaggy and Scooby. “He called me a slur.”

“No he didn’t.” You laughed as you set Tom down. “His treats are in the bag. Only one a day and none if he’s naughty.”

“I didn’t realize he had a setting other than naughty.” Tom sassed your cat, making him hiss once again. Tom looked at you for help and you sighed.

“Hey, behave.” You scolded Oatmeal as you stroked him. “His toys are in the bag too. He gets pretty feisty with the fish on a string so don’t go near him when he’s playing with it.”

Oatmeal jumped up on a chair and leaned towards Tom, peering at him as if extended an olive branch. Tom looked at you and you nodded, encouraging him to reach out towards the animal. Oatmeal leaned forward and sniffed Tom’s hand before snapping at him. Tom jerked his hand back and cradled it, though he wasn’t actually bitten.

“I don’t think I can do this.” Tom said suddenly. “He’s gonna put a hex on me.”

“Tom, please?” You whined when he went back on his offer. “I have to leave now and there’s no one else who can take him.”

“Give him to one of your friends.” Tom whimpered as he hid behind you. “What about Stacy? Don’t you hate her?”

“All my friends are either allergic or coming on the trip with me.” You pleaded with him.

“There has to be someone else who can watch this hell beast.” Tom spat as he shot daggers at Oatmeal. You chewed your bottom lip as you thought of way to keep him on board until something came to you.

“Well, my ex watched him a couple times.” You shrugged casually as you picked Oatmeal back up. “Maybe I can call him and-“

“I’ll watch the damn cat.” Tom cut you off, always the jealous type. “Come here baby.”

He cooed and walked towards Oatmeal, who swiped at him with his claws.

“Ah! Bitch!” He screamed and jumped away from

“Are you sure?” You innocently batted your eyelashes. “I’m sure he’d be more than happy to-“

“La la la la la.” Tom held his hands over his ears and sang loudly. “Enough about him. I’ll watch Oatmeal. It’s just two days right?”

“Four days.” You kept a smile on your face so you wouldn’t worry him.

“Four days?” He gasped. “How many people is she getting married to?”

“Just one. Who knows? If this goes well, maybe she’ll be flying out to my wedding soon.” You flirted as you held his chin between your fingers. This pulled a smile out of Tom, making him walk to you and wrap his arms around you. You fitted your face into the crook of his neck and left a kiss there, taking in your last few moments with him before you left.

“I’ll miss you, princess.” He mumbled as he rubbed soft circles onto your back.

“I’ll miss you too.” You sighed, resting your chin on his shoulder. You pulled away after a long time and kissed him, letting it linger until you couldn’t breath. You patted his cheek softly before bending down and petting Oatmeal.

“Amd I’ll miss you Mr. Fluffy Pants.” You cooed as you picked him up. “Who has the fluffiest pants?”

“I believe that’s his feline obesity.” Tom said sweetly as he narrowed his eyes at your cat.

“Funny.” You stuck your tongue out at him. “I’ll see you Wednesday.”

“Don’t be late.” He pouted, feeling his heart sink as you collected your things. You noticed his forlorn demeanor and hugged him again, taking in the scent of his cologne.

“How could I stay away from my baby?” You mumbled into his ear. You pulled away and jutted your bottom lip out before smiling wickedly.

“And I’ll miss you too.” You added as you pulled away. Tom rolled his eyes at you while you opened his door.

“Hilarious.” He replied sarcastically. “I’m laughing my-“

The door shut.

“-ass off.” He said weakly as silence settled into his home. He let out a sigh as he stared at the door, the smell of your perfume still lingering on his skin. He hated being apart from you, even if it was just for a few days. Tom’s reminiscing was cut short by a hatch meow from the floor. Tom jumped, having forgotten all about the cat he had promised to watch. Oatmeal stalked over to Tom and sat down in front of him as if to mock him.

“Listen you little whore.” Tom pointed an angry finger at the car. “I’m in charge. There will be no shenanigans this week, you hear me? Not one single shenanigan. That means no scratching the furniture, no shedding, and absolutely no napping in sunbeams. And I swear to God, if you piss on my rug, I’ll kill you. I will kill you with my bare hands. You hear me?”

The silence in the room was replaced with tension as Oatmeal silently stared at Tom with narrowed eyes. Finally, he let out a soft meow.

“Shut up.” Tom jumped again. “I’ll kill you.”

Oatmeal took another step towards Tom, making Tom take a step back. Oatmeal seemed to like this and sat down again.

“Why are you staring at me?” Tom snapped. “Do you want to fight?”

Oatmeal lifted his paw and put it back down, almost like he was stamping his foot. He let out a whine and took another step towards Tom, meowing towards the bag you had given him.

“Oh. It’s 6.” Tom realized. “You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

Oatmeal meowed again, louder this time.

“Don’t use that tone with me.” Toms voice cracked. “My beloved just left and I’m very sensitive right now.”

Oatmeal tilted his head to stare at him, silently judging Tom as he wiped away a tear. Tom composed himself quickly and went over to the bag you’d left, taking out Oatmeal’s pink bowls and bag of food. Oatmeal jumped up on the counter to watch Tom as he prepared the food, both of them sneaking glances at each other every once in a while. Tom stuck his tongue out at the cat before setting his food on the ground.

“Here you go, fatass.” Tom snapped, taking a step back when Oatmeal walked over to the bowl. Oatmeal sniffed the food skeptically before looking up at Tom as if he was waiting for something.

“I’m not scratching you behind the ears.” Tom scoffed with hands on his hips. “You’re not royalty.”

Oatmeal let out a howl and pawed at the bowl, demanding his ear scratches.

“Starve, then.” Tom shrugged. “See if I care.”

Oatmeal hissed at Tom, who responded with the middle finger. He kept his middle finger up and directed at Oatmeal as he walked out of the room, going into his bed room to calm down. After five minutes of thinking, he went back to the kitchen.

“After care consideration I’ve realized Y/n will break up with me if I kill her cat, which is fair.” Tom announced as he walked to Oatmeal. “That is why I’m doing this. Not because I care about you or your well-being.”

Oatmeal meowed softly and pawed at the bowl again, making Tom roll his eyes as he crouched down.

“Here are your little bitch scratches behind your little bitch ears.” Tom grumbled as he scratched the cat. Oatmeal purred in satisfaction before eating the entirety of his bowl. Tom backed away and watched him, smiling a little at how docile he seemed. He quickly wiped the smile off his face as Oatmeal finished and looked up at him.

“I need to call my brother about a script we’re writing, not that it’s any of your business.” Tom said as he looked at the floor. “Don’t bother me while I’m on the phone.”

Oatmeal didn’t pay any attention to Tom, instead busying himself with cleaning his left paw. Tom narrowed his eyes at the cat and huffed out an angry breath.

“Whatever. I know you care You just won’t admit it because you’re jealous.” Tom laughed bitterly as he stared daggers at Oatmeal. Oatmeal continued to ignore Tom as he began licking his other paw.

“You’re jealous that I have abs and you have a flabby cat tummy that drags on the floor.” Tom continued, determined to get the cats attention. “And we both know which one Y/n prefers.”

Oatmeal flicked his eyes to Tom before lifting a leg and licking his nether regions. Tom gasped and touched a hand to his chest in offense.

“You’re disgusting.” Tom spat. “I’m leaving.”

Tom turned on his heel and heard a meow from behind him as he walked away, resembling a taunting laugh.

“Don’t follow me!” Tom called once he got to his office. He sat down at his desk and rubbed his tired eyes before dialing his brother.

Forty minutes later, Tom and Harry were knee deep in their script. They had gotten to standstill, unable to come to an agreement with where to take the story.

“Right, right.” Tom nodded as he rested his chin in his hands. “I was thinking for - - oh for Gods sake.”

Tom’s attention was claimed by Oatmeal slipping in through the crack in the door, letting out a meow to announce his presence. Harry saw Tom’s jaw clench as he stared at the cat offscreen, leaning closer to the camera to get a better look.

“Was that a cat?” Harry asked as he watched his brother swat at something to his left.

“Hey!” Tom bellowed as Oatmeal jumped up on the desk. “No feet on the table!”

“Mate, who are you yelling at?” Harry tapped the screen repeatedly to get his brothers attention.

“Oatmeal.” Tom grumbled, jerking his neck at the cat as if to challenge him to a fight.

“Y/n’s cat?” Harry chuckled, knowing all about his brothers hatred of cats. “Why is he at your place?”

“Shes at her cousins wedding this week.” Tom pouted. “I told her I’d watch the furry bastard.”

“How’s that going?” Harry smiled teasingly, already having an idea of how it was going. Before Tom could answer, Oatmeal walked in front of his phone and knocked it down with his tail. He let out a proud purr as Tom picked his phone back up.

“Shut up!” He shrieked. “I’m on the phone!”

“Tom! Stop yelling at the cat.” Harry snapped his fingers at Tom. “I asked you how it was going.”

Tom tore his eyes away from Oatmeal, who had made himself comfortable in one of Tom’s desk drawers.

“Not great, man.” Tom shook his head. “Not great.”

Monday

“I’m home.” Tom announced as he walked into his front door. “Did you kill any children and eat their souls while I was gone?”

Oatmeal didn’t come to the door right away like a dog would, making Tom worry briefly. He set his grocery bags down and knelt to the ground, patting his thighs the way he would do to call Tessa. It’s not that Tom was dying to see him, he just didn’t want to be the guy who lost his girlfriends cat. Much to his relief, Oatmeal appeared from around the corner, the bell around his neck jingling.

“There you are.” Tom sighed as he stood up. “You look like shit.”

Oatmeal hissed and pranced over to the couch, stretching out his limbs in a sunbeam before laying down. As his body his the couch, tufts of hair flew into the air. Tom’s eyes widened in surprise before running over to the couch to investigate. Even though it had been less than a day, Oatmeal had managed to get his fur all over the couch.

“Excuse me? What is this?” Tom demanded as he picked up some fur between his fingers. Oatmeal rolled onto his side and stared at Tom with unblinking eyes.

“What did I say about shedding? You think this is some brothel that you can defile with your fur? It’s not.” Tom snapped, stomping over to the hall closet to get the vacuum. He plugged it into the wall, shooting angry glared at Oatmeal every few seconds.

“Unbelievable.” Tom pretended to gag as he vacuumed up the hair. “You disgust me.”

Oatmeal flicked his tail back and forth, causing the fur Tom had missed to float into the air. Tom shook his fist at the cat before getting his food out and putting it in the bowl.

“I’m taking a shower.” He grumbled as he rinsed his hands. “Eat your damn food.”

Tuesday

“Oatmeal? Come in here.”

Tom stood with his hands on his hips, impatiently tapping his foot as he waited for the damned cat to come. When he didn’t show, Tom balled his fists in frustration and let out a silent scream.

“Oh my God. SPSPSPSPS.” Tom yelled, spit flying from his mouth as he called the cat once again. Oatmeal waltzed into the room, taking his sweet time to get to where Tom was.

“Do you want to explain to me what this is?” Tom asked angrily as he pointed to the surprise Oatmeal had left on the floor while he was working out. Oatmeal sat down and tilted his head at Tom, daring him to raise his voice.

“You’ve done it.” Tom nodded as he tightened his lips into a line. “You’ve shit on my floor.”

Oatmeal purred before turning his attention to his paw, loudly cleaning it to show Tom he had no shame.

“The disrespect you’ve shown for my hard wood is astounding.” Tom pointed a finger at him. “You’re a fiend. A sneaky, fatass little fiend.”

Oatmeal looked towards the kitchen table and meowed before looking back at Tom. He shook his body out, fur flying everywhere and settling in the air.

“Why must you insult me in this way? Why wouldn’t you go in your-“ Tom cut himself off when he looked at the litter box, still on the kitchen table where he left it. So that was what Oatmeal had been looking at.

“Oh. I told you not to put your feet on the table.” Tom realized the cat had listened to him after all. Oatmeal had pooped on the floor, but only because Tom failed to put the litter box down. Oatmeal let out a quiet meow and walked over to Tom, hitting his leg with his tail.

“No, I get it.” Tom sighed as he went to get cleaning supplies. “We were both at fault. I mean, I wasn’t the one who shit on the floor, but we both made a mistake.”

Oatmeal circled Tom’s body before taking a seat at his feet, peering up at him with wide eyes. Tom felt guilty as he looked at the animal, knowing he could never understand that he was sorry for yelling at him. He walked to the table and got the litter box, setting it down where Oatmeal could access it.

“Here.” He said softly. “Sorry about that.”

Oatmeal walked over to the box and looked up at Tom, giving Tom the impression that he was forgiven. But of course, Oatmeal still had a cold side. He hissed viciously at Tom before stepping into the littler box.

“Fine.” Tom scoffed. “I’m not sorry.”

Your cat and your boyfriend stared at each other for a long time, neither wanting to be the one to leave. That was a sign of weakness, and they were both determined to dominate the other.

“I’m getting frozen yogurt.” Tom said suddenly, unable to take the tension any longer. He grabbed his keys and left without another word.

Less than an hour later, Tom returned home with a ring of chocolate frozen yogurt around his mouth. He locked the front door and turned his light on, jumping when he saw Oatmeal sitting in the middle of the floor with a vacant stare.

“Jesus. Warn a guy, would you?” Tom rolled his eyes as he held a hand over his heart. “You could’ve given me a heart attack.”

Oatmeal stayed silent as Tom put his keys in the bowl by the door, his eyes following Tom’s every move.

“Yeah, you would’ve liked that, wouldn’t you?” Tom narrowed his eyes at Oatmeal before washing his hands in the kitchen sink. Oatmeal let out a loud hiss, making Tom jump out of his skin. He had crossed the room to get to Tom, all without making a sound, and sat himself at his feet. Tom stumbled back, only stopping when his back hit the wall. His heart pounded in his ears from the scare, and if he didn’t know any better, he could’ve sworn Oatmeal was laughing at him. Not wanting to show weakness, Tom quickly collected himself and stood up straight.

“Alright listen here you little bitch.” Tom snapped. “I don’t like you. And if I wasn’t seriously in love with your owner, I would microwave you. I would put you in the microwave and watch you rotate just like them damn rotisserie chickens until you blew up. And then I would set the microwave on fire.”

Oatmeal let out a long meow, sounding insulted by Tom’s words. His eyes softened upon hearing the hurt in the cats voice, fixing his body language to not look as menacing.

“Okay I wouldn’t do all that, but I would drive out to a really far place and leave you there. And that’s basically the same thing.” Tom shouted as he folded his arms. Oatmeal dragged his paw behind his ear and purred, taking no interest in Tom or his threats.

“Shut the fuck up.” Tom hissed. Oatmeal hissed back and swiped a paw at Tom.

“I’ll shave you.” Tom threaten as he backed away. “I will shave you bare.”

Oatmeal continued to advance on him, backing the actor into a corner.

“You don’t think I’d do it?” Tom asked with a shaky voice. “I’ll get the buzzer right now. Do you know how ugly you’ll look?”

Oatmeal stopped in his place and sat down, leaning back on his front paws to stretch.

“That’s right.” Tom laughed sharply. “You’ll look like an uncooked chicken breast. Fuck you.”

Oatmeal watched Tom curiously as he left the room, satisfied with how the conversation went.

Wednesday

Tom sat at his kitchen island, slowing sipping his fourth glass of wine. It had gotten to the point in the week where he missed you too much to do much of anything, which resulted him getting drunk early in the day. He had been locked in a staring contest with Oatmeal for quite some time, never breaking eye contact as he poured his next glass.

“What are you looking at?” Tom slurred as he brought the wine glass to his lips. Oatmeal said nothing, blinking slowly at Tom as he drank.

“So what?” Tom shrugged. “My girlfriend is gone. I can get drunk at 2 pm.”

Oatmeal tilted his head to the side, something Tom was growing to resent.

“How dare you judge me?” He spoke slowly, heavily intoxicated now. “You’re not even wearing clothes.”

Oatmeal let out a soft meow, making a smile tug at Toms lips.

“Heh heh.” He chuckled as he took another sip. “Imagine that? You’d look pretty stupid in clothes.”

Oatmeal took a few steps toward Tom, sweetly purring as he rubbed himself against Toms legs.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to call you stupid.” Tom said softly. “If anyone’s stupid, it’s me. I should’ve gone with Y/n. I miss her so much.”

Oatmeal peered up at Tom with kind eyes, the first docile interaction between them.

“Yeah.” Tom smiled as reached down to scratch his ears. “Me too.”

Oatmeal jumped onto the chair, and then into Toms lap, nuzzling himself against his neck. Tom happily stroked his soft fur, liking this newfound civility between them.

“This is gonna sound crazy, but what can I say? I’m a crazy guy.” Tom laughed heartily. “Do you want to drink with me? Do you just wanna go crazy and drink away the day?”

Oatmeal looked up at Tom and meowed, making Tom smile.

“Hell yeah!” He cheered. He picked Oatmeal up with one hand and grabbed the wine bottle with the other. After setting Oatmeal down on the ground, he poured wine into his water bowl.

“Wine is for cats! Wine is for people! Wine is for people and cats and people.” Tom sang happily. Oatmeal purred as he watched Tom, curious about the unknown liquid in his bowl.

“Thats right.” Tom agreed. “It’s also for church.”

Oatmeal sniffed the wine and pulled away, the sour smell sending a shiver through his body. He waltzed over to a sunbeam that was lighting up the floor and laid down, letting the sun warm his body. Tom stared at him for a moment before shrugging and laying down beside the cat.

“Do you believe in God?” Tom asked as he looked over at him. Oatmeal let out a small meow, to which Tom raised his eyebrows.

“You’re crazy, man.” Tom shook his head and patted his chest. “You’re a crazy dude.”

He laid in the sun with Oatmeal in silence for a moment, taking in the warmth from the floor.

“It’s so warm down here.” Tom sighed in content. “It’s like a hug from the sun.”

Oatmeal swatted his tail towards Tom, making Tom smile. Tom reaching over and rubbed Oatmeal’s tummy, his attention diverting to the bell on his collar. He took it between his fingers and saw your name and address engraved on it, sighing again as he was reminded about how much he missed you.

“I have to tell you man, I love her so much.” Tom pouted wistfully. “Y/n is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Tom smiled as Oatmeal purred in understanding.

“You want another drink you crazy bastard?” He asked the cat as he got off the floor. He poured some wine into his glass, and then some into Oatmeal’s already full bowl.

“Me too, man. Me too.” Tom said as he took another sip and got back on the floor.

“You know, Oatmeal isn’t that bad of a name. I can see why she named you that, though.” Tom thought out loud as he stroked the cats fur. “You’re the exact color of her favorite kind. The maple brown sugar one, you know? She gets so excited in the winter when it’s one sale. I’ve seen her clear a whole shelf into her shopping cart. And then she sits down at the table when her hair is still messy and lets it warm her up. She puts her little spoon in it and blows on it even though it’s never that hot. She’s so cute, man. I love her so much. I could watch her eat oatmeal everyday.”

Oatmeal purred as he rubbed his head against Toms hand.

“I know.” Tom chuckled. “We really are lucky.”

Tom situated himself into a more comfortable position on the floor and held his hand up, letting the sun rays shine through his fingers and illuminate the cat hair in the air.

“I gotta say, you’re really onto something with this whole napping in sunbeams deal.” Tom commented. “I’m quite enjoying this.”

Tom was too busy drinking on the floor to hear his front door open. You set your bags down and went into the living room, smiling in confusion when you saw your boyfriend and your cat on the ground.

“Tom?” You laughed at the sight. “I’m home.”

Toms eyes widened as he sprang off the floor, the wine in his glass sloshing around as he stood up.

“It was his idea!” He exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at your cat.

“Oh really?” You humored him. “What are you guys doing?”

“We…sunbeam.” Tom explained as he weakly pointed at the sunbeam, still too drunk to form a real sentence.

“I see.” You chuckled as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You placed a welcomed kiss to his lips, immediately tasting the bitter wine.

“Are you drunk?” You asked as you finally noticed the wine glass in his hand.

“Maybe.” Tom giggled as he struggled to stand up straight.

“Never mind that.” Your eyes shifted to Oatmeal and the vacant spot next to him that your boyfriend previously inhabited. “Were you just…cuddling my cat?”

“No.” Tom said quickly. “We were both laying there and you happened to walk in during the brief moment we touched. That’s all.”

“Why were you on the floor?” You questioned as you took the wine glass from his hand and took a sip. Tom opened his mouth but found no words coming out, opting to change the subject instead.

“Come here!” He smiled as he pulled you in for a long hug. “I missed you. Tell me all about your trip.”

“I picked up food from your favorite restaurant. Let’s eat and I’ll tell you everything.” You suggested as you pulled away.

“That sounds perfect.” He sighed, suddenly realizing how hungry he was. “I’m starved.”

You pulled him in for another kiss before bending down to greet your cat.

“Hello baby.” You cooed as you scratched behind Oatmeal’s ears. “Were you a good boy for Tom?”

“He was all right.” Tom shrugged, sending a wink to the cat. “Nothing to report.”

“You spend all that time whining about watching him but you have nothing to report?” You asked skeptically as you stood back up.

“It was pretty mellow.” Tom said dismissively, not wanting to get into the multiple fights they had. You squinted at Tom as if you didn’t believe him and folded your arms.

“Hm. Maybe he did put that hex on you after all.” You teased. “I’m gonna change real quick and move my bags.”

“Okay. I missed you.” Tom pulled you by the hand and kissed you again before you could leave the room.

“I missed you more.” You gave him another quick kiss and grimaced. “You taste like alcohol.”

“I’ll set the table, princess.” He called after you as you walked towards his bedroom.

“Thank you!” You called back.

Tom got to work setting the table and putting the bag of food near the place settings. You came back in no time in one of his large T-shirts and a pair of his boxers. Tom smiled softly, always happy to see you in his clothing.

“You look comfy.” He commented as he pulled you towards him by the waist.

“I am.” You hummed. “That was such a long flight. I don’t know why I wore jeans.”

“Well at least you’re home now. I couldn’t handle us being apart for another day.” He pouted while resting his forehead against yours.

“Me either.” You smiled at him until your eyes shifted to the wall behind him, noticing something strange right away.

“Tom?” You asked as you pulled your head back.

“Yes, love?” He answered, obviously to the concerned look on your face.

“Why is there wine in Oatmeal’s food bowl?”

Tag list 🏷

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[whumpurr]

Adrien and Sawdust part 6

cw: pet whump, whump recovery, bodily mutilation, self harm, brief and vague mention of past noncon, dehumanization, conditioned whumpee, unreliable narrator, brief mention of dissociation

masterlist

Sawdust was searching for his bag the second Master was gone. He hopped out of bed, punctuated with a fit of dizziness as he got to his feet, and crawled around the room looking for his duffel bag. The bright blue bag was nowhere to be found, and Sawdust wasn’t great at seeing in the dark either.

He started to wonder, to second guess himself. Did Master put the bag somewhere in the room and Sawdust just isn’t seeing it? Is he overlooking it? Did he even have a bag at all? Did it come with him to this new house, or was it left with his previous master? No, no, he remembered seeing it next to his kennel with those other people.

If he left the room now, Master would surely hear it and question him, or worse, punish him for disturbing his sleep. As much as Sawdust wanted his ears back, he just had to trust that Master would return them in due time.

Sleeping was difficult without the familiar squeeze of his headband around his head, but with a full stomach he managed to eventually fall asleep even if it took a while.

Sunlight came all too soon for Sawdust. The light peeked through the curtains and he couldn’t physically sleep any more. He was dreading going downstairs and having to face his master, having to eat beside him. He could only imagine what his master was going to do to him. Would he record him? Bring his friends over and show him how pathetic and stupid he looked eating out of a bowl on the floor? Sawdust shook himself out of his thoughts; he was just a dog anyways, he shouldn’t have enough of an ego to be embarrassed.

He was getting himself out of bed, going down onto his hands and knees when he heard a soft knock on the door, followed by Master’s quiet voice.

“Sawdust?” Master said from the other side of the heavy wooden door. “Come on, let’s go get some food.”

Sawdust got to the door and opened it with his paw, stepping out and following Master.

Master gave him a bowl of dog food once he was downstairs. Sawdust half contemplated asking Master about his ears, but really, if Master had taken them away then it was because Sawdust did not deserve them any more.

“Master,” Sawdust murmured, “Is- is there anything your pet can- can do? To assist?”

Master looked thoughtful for a moment then laughed, laughed at Sawdust.

“I think my work stuff is a bit advanced for you,” Master took a bite of his own food, “I want you to focus on… recovery, for now. Okay? That means you rest up and come get me if you want anything, food, water, whatever.”

Sawdust nodded, “Yes, Master,” before he continued eating, the hard kibble crunching satisfyingly between his teeth. He couldn’t work up the courage to ask Master about the ears or his bag, or where they’ve gone.

Lunch and dinner went similarly, with Master coming, getting his pet, and taking him downstairs to eat. Each time Sawdust couldn’t work himself up enough to ask Master about his ears. The lack of his ears made Sawdust feel… Wrong. Like he wasn’t a real dog, like he was a subpar pet. He wasn’t good enough to this new Master who had otherwise been so kind to him. What had he done to deserve this?

Night eventually fell, and Sawdust did his best to do as Master said and get to sleep. He curled up in the nest of blankets and pillows that his Master had made in the corner for him, and let himself begin to drift off. As he was doing so, he couldn’t help but wonder why his Master was withholding his belongings from him. Nevertheless, his eyelids grew heavy, and he eventually fell into a deep sleep.

--

Adrien was still getting accustomed to feeding someone using a dog bowl, with dog food, on the floor. It was a strange experience, and doing it made him feel dirty, but it was all Sawdust was going to accept so if it was between that or making the pet starve again, he would have to go with the former.

He was still very aware of just how lost he was in all of this. He searched the internet and scoured his social media for something that could give him some kind of life preserver in all of this. Finally, finally, he found something. A chatroom for pet owners. From the looks of it, it was heavily moderated and geared more towards pet liberation activists, and pet rehabbers, and people who actually cared for their pets. He requested to join and was accepted within the hour. He immediately sent a message to the ‘help’ section.

Adrien: >> Hey guys, I’m a new owner and I didn’t do as much research as I should have. >> Long story short, I didn’t keep as close an eye on my pet as I should’ve, and he ended up not eating because I wasn’t giving him dog food. Is that a normal thing? How can I help him?

It wasn’t five minutes before one of the other owners responded,

1Y4N4: >> oof, thats no good dude.. definitely watch him harder and probably just stick to feeding him what he wants for now. u said hes new right? let him stay in his comfort zone for a little bit probably

Adrien: >> Thanks. I’ll do that.

1Y4N4: >> np, im a bit more experienced as an owner but i dont think mine were as conditioned as urs >> at least not in that way

Zo: >> Bro wtf? You’re the source of your pet’s whole life and shit, you really should’ve done more research.

Adrien sat and watched as this ‘Zo’ person continued to rip into Adrien for his irresponsibility, though the ‘1Y4N4’ user at least tried to defend Adrien. It wasn’t long before Zo quieted down and 1Y4N4 was able to speak up again,

1Y4N4: >> lots of actual dogs eat things that arent dog chow >> maybe show your pet some videos of people feeding their dogs other stuff, maybe hell be more open then

Adrien thanked the user, and used the rest of his evening compiling some videos and researching, finding the outer bounds of what dogs could eat in hopes that he could convince Sawdust. It was far from exactly what he wanted, but he felt some semblance of satisfaction that there was at least a way to progress forwards.

--

Sawdust finally came up with a plan when he was coming out of the bathroom the next morning. It was before Adrien had gotten up. As Sawdust was leaving the bathroom, he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

His hair was all matted, and the fringe at his forehead was beginning to grow to hide his eyes. He looked lacking without his ears. There were deep circles under his eyes. At least the peaks of his cheeks and his lips were starting to regain some color now that he had a steady supply of food which he undoubtedly did not deserve. The scratched scar across his nose bridge and cheek that one of the other dogs gave him was still there. He looked at that and followed it across his face to his second ears.

His dumb second ears, the ones on either side of his head that his last master hated so much. His previous master had always told him that they made him look less like a dog, less like a pet, when a pet was all Sawdust ever wanted to be. Because if he wasn’t a pet, then he was a toy for both Master and the other dogs, and that was one step above the most reprehensible thing he could be. He had been downgraded to ‘toy’ for a short amount of time previously, and he was eternally grateful that he was never dropped even lower, to being nothing but food for the other dogs.

Master threatened that sometimes, chopping him up and feeding him to the other dogs.

Whenever Sawdust looked at himself in the mirror, he couldn’t help imagine it. Being cut up and thrown to other animals to eat. He found some part of himself that felt that- even if he could never do anything else right- he could do that right. He tried to halt that train of thought as quickly as he could, before his mind shunted him off to some dark, foggy place where he couldn’t think or feel until the bad thoughts went away.

But at the root of those thoughts, he found the problem, as well as the solution. He scrambled down to the kitchen as fast as he could go, wanting to work quickly before he could stop himself.

He got to the kitchen sink, and stood up on trembling, unused legs. They could hardly support his weight, he had to lean onto the granite countertop with his elbows as he reluctantly removed the tape from his paws using his teeth. He would need his fingers for this.

Sawdust’s breath was quick in his throat, the edges of his vision grew blurry as he tried to focus on this and only this. He had one task and he was not going to fail it. He wanted his ears back. He wanted his master to be happy with him again. Maybe this way he could earn his master’s attention and... Maybe even his affection, if a pet was allowed to hope.

Sawdust’s paws were shaky and clumsy as they took out the biggest knife out of the wooden blog. It was heavy and cold in his paw. With one paw he held the tip of one of his second ears and pulled it as far away from his head as he could.

The cold edge of the blade rested on his skin, at the valley between his second ear and his head. He squeezed his eyes shut, he couldn’t break down now, he couldn’t stop now. He took a deep, sharp breath and pressed down on the knife as hard as his feeble paws could.

--

Adrien shot out of bed to the sound of a piercing, howling scream from downstairs.

taglist: @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi@neuro-whump @whump-me-all-night-long @cupcakes-and-pain @whumpzone @whumpcreations @dancinglifeboat @pinkraindropsfell @looptheloup @cowboy-anon @meetmeinhellcroutons @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @firewheeesky @maracujatangerine

[transmogrified-in-the-void]

(prompt) some human wakes up to find their quirrel plush has become the real quirrel

I am. so sorry this took so long it literally was bc i couldnt find a good name for the human ;-; but i hope you enjoy!

Amalia's had their Quirrel plush since they were ten years old. Having been enamored by the world Team Cherry had made, and further drawn in by the pillbug met throughout the Knight's journey, their parents had gotten it as a gift. One that they cherished with everything they had.

The Quirrel plush had seen them through some of the hardest moments of their life. Their parents divorce, Grandma Gigi's death, moving across the country, everything that went down in high school, he was there for it all. During the nights where Amalia couldn't hold it in anymore, he helped with the tears.

He was even there for the greatest moments of her life, too. Meeting their best friend, graduating high school, college, moving into their first apartment, he followed. After two decades of intense love and many cuddles, he had become worn down and faded, but loved no less.

Amalia had thought that the Quirrel plush that had seen them through so much would stay with them forever. At least, that would have been the case if it wasn't for the fact that they had to puppy-sit their best friend's dog.

They don't even know how he got within eating range of the puppy, but he did while they had been in the bedroom trying to find something. And they had returned to see gaping holes in his body, and fluff everywhere.

They gently, quickly, took plush Quirrel out of the puppy's mouth and gave her the dog toy she was supposed to chew on, and barely made it to the closest room with a door before she started to cry.

Amalia knew, logically, that they could get Quirrel fixed, but at that point it wasn't going to be the Quirrel that had lived more than half a lifetime with them, not anymore. So they cried and mourned the loss of their dearest possession, and most trusted confidant, until the sky was dark.

So Amalia put the puppy into her kennel, and went to bed.

---

Quirrel is left in a box on the highest shelf until Amalia's best friend comes to take her back. Then, and only then, do they take the box down.

And almost drops it when there's the sound of a small voice inside.

They put the box on the table and carefully peer over the side, expecting to see a motion activated soundbox and the remains of Quirrel, only to see . . . Quirrel?

"Oh my! What is this?" The small, moving, real Quirrel hums. He can't be bigger than Amalia's hand, and, taking a closer look at the box, it seems that his nail (sword? it looks more like a sword) is sharp enough to semi-cut through cardboard.

They look back at Quirrel (living, breathing Quirrel), who's staring up at them, and Amalia realizes that they never answered.

"Um, hi? I'm Amalia." They tell the pillbug, who blinks and tilts his head.

"Amalia? I've certainly never heard that name before. Then again, my memory comes and goes now." He mumbles to himself, before perking up slightly. "I'm Quirrel. Where are we, and do you have food and water?"

How . . . How long has he been here? They quickly look up what a pill bug eats (to which Quirrel looks even more confused, somehow), and sighs. At least he won't go hungry.

And they're realizing that they've forgotten to answer a question. Again. "You're in my apartment right now, in Boise. But I don't think city and state matters, since you probably came from Hallownest, right?"

"Are you a Higher Being?" Quirrel asks, and Amalia laughs.

"No, no, just a human." They say, and see Quirrel squint his eyes at them. "A human is like, if a bug's outside shell was a blueprint for their body, but the blueprint was inside and all the squishy stuff was outside. And like, a thousand times larger." Never in their life had they ever thought that they would have to describe humans in relation to a bug, to a bug. "Food and water?"

Quirrel relaxes slightly, and nods before sitting down. Amalia takes an apple out of the fridge, slices it, and puts two slices in the box, as well as a dipping sauce cup full of water.

Taking his nail (sword?), he cuts some of the apple off and spears it before bringing it closer to him. "Thank you, Amalia." He nods at them.

As they watch him eat, they can't help but think that this is just the beginning.

-------

and i was gonna add more but this is all i could write. who knows, maybe i add more to the adventures of amalia and quirrel