#what is a malinois?

[compacflt]

what dog would icemav get?

im guessing no mangy devil chihuahuas or rescues (compacflt can't be seen with anything but a purebreed) golden retriever might be too on the nose, how about a malinois or a german shepherd maybe an english bulldog (ugly)

idk. i don’t really have a dog in this fight (i don’t care) (pun intended). but it definitely would have to be like a Real Dog. yeah nothing smaller than 70 lbs. a Real Dog. other than that i don’t have any opinions. could be a mutt or a rescue! but it would have to be, you know, handsome and upstanding and like, a Real Dog that you can, like, do stuff with. it is very cliche and on the nose and maybe im only saying this bc i, like, don’t care at all about dogs but ice does seem like the white lab/golden retriever guy and mav strikes me as a german shepherd guy. there are many reasons i don’t think they would ever have a dog (what would they do with the dog?) but not being able to agree on the breed might be one reason they never get a dog. arguing and bickering etc

[linddzz]

I'm not gonna lie "jayce is protective/possessive in a way that a guard dog is" and "but a guard dog has a collar and a leash" have changed my brain chemistry on a molecular, nay, atomic level oh my god I'm a changed person nothing is gonna be the same *feral screaming*

Thank yooouu!!!! I am pretty pleased with that framing for them ever since it occured to me when I was writing out that protective/possessive Jayce post! It really clicked using that description as the summation of the VIBE I got from them even in Season1. That vibe where it's undeniable that Jayce is more physically forward and LOOKS like he's taking charge in those moments where he puts a hand out to hold Viktor back and it LOOKS at first like Viktor just goes along with things.

But there is just. That vibe. That sense. Something about noticing how much Jayce can act assertive but very much wants someone else directing him as Season1 goes. Something about how he's always moving around Viktor. And part of it clicks when you see him putting his head in Mel's lap repeatedly like every single giant dog that does not realize they are not lap size. Then somethinnggg about "man every time he's doing that or even talking to Mel he ends up talking about Viktor huh"

And THEN the something...something about Viktor. About his mix of quiet introversion but the very self assured confidence he carries himself with. The way if something frustrates him he looks over at Jayce like "do something about that." The way that as soon as they partner up it's like he becomes this quiet pivot point holding lots of eye contact while pushing Jayce to do crimes and then being the force of calm confidence as the pressure mounted trying to stabilize the hexgem for the first time. Something about how he always takes Jayce's constant touches and physical looming like it's perfectly natural and you don't know why, but it doesn't feel like Jayce is imposing on him???

And then (for me at least lmao) that exchange on the bridge makes it all CLICK. Jayce got so wound up he ended up snapping at Viktor (bc he is a high energy dog and his response to stress/fear is baring teeth lmao) and Viktor does not even look up as he smacks Jayce's hand away. Does not GLANCE at Jayce as he very pointedly moves away from him and out of Jayce's personal space bubble. And Jayce's hand flinches where it's held out and he immediately says "I'm sorry" in the smallest voice. And THEN, only THEN does Viktor allow the hand on his back to lead him away and you realize. holy shit. Jayce has earned touching privileges back. Holy shit.

and MAN I am usually NOT AT ALL into the idea of D/s dynamics as a lifestyle thing but with those maniacs it's like. Oh you two never even discussed that this is the dynamic. Y'all are just LIKE THAT. If Viktor ever called Jayce "good boy" even as a joke you just KNOW Jayce would DROP to his knees like it's an instinct (making for a hilariously awkward day at the lab)

come with me anon come with me everyone, we gonna explore Dom/sub dynamics that have bonkers types and layers of power exchange nuances in em

[sunanthrope]

so you're telling me that in two days when the sun goes down a bunch of people are gonna send really loud really bright demon sprinklers into the sky and they arent going to stop until the sun comes up (at least in my redneck area)

and i am TOO LARGE TO FIT UNDER THE BED?????

how am i to hide ?!?!?!

edit: its the THIRD??? ONE DAY ?!??!?! how am I to find somewhere to hide from the flashy boom boom in ONE DAY? this is too much to expect from a dog!

[juustozzi]

inazuma eleven: victory road of puppies

(because I'm a canine artist deep in the core and assigning breeds is fun. can you guess them all?)

[grison-in-space]

I really want to think deeply at some point about the ethics of breeding for extreme temperament (eg drive, food motivation -> trainability, tendency to hyperfixation, low energy, high defensive aggression) alongside the ethics of breeding for extreme structure.... from the standpoint of both being informed by neuroscience underlying brain variation and also being doubly neurodivergent, firmly anti - eugenics for humans, and firmly pro-deliberately-selective-breeding for dogs.

It's a landmine of a topic, not least because one of the use cases I would want to examine is an unintended side effect from breeding service dogs, but man what a topic to sit with and have first and second and third and fourth thoughts about in exhaustive detail. like an extremely autistic one-person six-opinion argument.

[canineentity]

Sometimes being a dog IS my motivation for things

Yea we could sleep in OR we could do our stretches so eventually we can curl into a ball and scratch our ears with our back legs

Wanna quit our run early? Yea but do you see Malinois?? A Mal would do this with full effort 10000%

[runsonlovepower]

vanitas stock straight trembling with rage mutters “I’m a good noodle“ and stalks off ventus meanwhile upside down on the couch goes “yeah I’m totally a bad boy” and he is eating fun dip and playing mario

[kelpiemomma]

friends i am begging you, if you want to get a dog and have never had one before, DO YOUR RESEARCH ON BREEDS.

i was working with a lady the other day who was telling me she wanted a puppy and had never had one before, so she went and adopted a 7 month old husky/border collie mix from the shelter after being denied at [pet store] for working too many hours. i'm pretty sure she got this dog because it has complete heterochromia and is a very tidy black and white, like a standard border collie.

please. do NOT do this. look into what dog breed will BEST fit your lifestyle. if you work long hours, do NOT get a working dog breed. maybe even don't get a dog. maybe get a less affectionate cat. i do not give a single FUCK if the dog is pretty. do both yourself and the dog a favor and get the dog that fits your life!!! do not get a working dog and stick it in an apartment or house and wonder why it's eating your furniture and destroying your house!!!

[bedlamsbard]

i see your border collie steve but can i raise this point? ✨️belgian malinois steve✨️ aka parkour collie

I'll accept it because I also fully believe a Belgian Malinois would commit tax fraud for fun in his spare time between winning Olympic gold and hotwiring cars (for fun). plus, you know, military dogs.

[anxeious]

melondoggy... ʕ ﾟ ● ﾟʔ tell me what types of dogs you are into and maybe why or whatever u want tbh

omg dogs are my special interest!! i love all well-bred purebreds from ethical preservation breeders! some of my favorite dogs are beagles, giant breeds, "scary" dogs, and livestock guardians. specifically (dogs that i would own) saint bernards, newfoundlands, leonbergers, great pyrenees, dobermans, cane corsos, beaucerons, and beagles !! quite the mix i know. i would also own a border collie and more intense livestock guardians if i had farm animals that needed herded/protected (i don't currently)

[a-dog-like-that]

Introducing Xivu!

She's a Malinois, about 3.5 years old and was originally found roaming the streets in southern Spain.

She's been in a foster home in Germany since February and with us since yesterday.

She does unfortunately have leishmaniasis, but has been responding really well to medication, but for now it's left her with very sparse fur in some places.

Character wise, she's just a really lovely dog. Settles down easily, very cuddly, friendly with almost all humans (some tall men still scare her a bit) and dogs, likes to work and is easily motivated by food (and toys, but I need to improve my skills with those first).

She's watchful without being overly bark-y or being bothered by the construction noises currently happening in our house.

She settled in extremely fast, slept though the first night and for the most part has just been chilling and napping while I do online school.

She did however pee on my bed yesterday xD

[sunanthrope]

UM??? GUYS??? LOOK AT THIS ART FROM @murdermortician OF MY THERIOTYPE ???? i am. going insane actually. i am going so crazy no you guys have no idea. literally everybody go send them money do it now empty your wallets into their bank account (/j)

[nat-tea-n-coffee]

I have met more aggressive, traumatized German shepherds than I have met aggressive pities. But even with an arguably similar cultural reputation for being a vicious attack dog, German Shepherds are considered great family dogs! No stigma or legal restrictions on owning them, even if they have been actively trained to be aggressive attack dogs!

And this is no shade to German Shepherds, just pointing smthn out. Maybe the difference is less between the dogs and more between how people think about their owners :)

Required disclaimer that I love all dog breeds, and to critique a breed of dog is only to critique ourselves as they are a human creation. Left to their own devices you will get a bog standard mutt in less than 2 generations. Breeds only exist because we insist they do, and therefore carry all that socio-cultural baggage of the people who shaped them.

Do you know what the consensus on pit bulls is? Some people say the negative stereotypes surrounding them are unfair, while others insist they’re inherently dangerous dogs that shouldn’t be kept as pets. Both views are biased to some degree, so I don’t know which to believe.

they're just. dogs.

and same as german shepards, same as huskies, same as dalmations, they have specific breed requirements and aren't right for every home! also like all dogs, they have to be trained to be a reliable and safe pet. but with their needs met and good training, they're about the same as any other dog in their size range (with individual exceptions for personal history and trauma of course)

[puppysweetheart]

new development: lately i've been starting to shake when i get too horny

[beloveds-embrace]

Roomate!AU thoughts - they get worried about you when they're away on deployment, especially after a night where someone broke into the apartment (thankfully you were staying at a friends working on a group project for college) and they saw on the cameras that they didnt take anything from the house. It meant only one thing, they were there to hurt you. They're protectiveness goes up tenfold from what it already was, telling you to stay at your friends for the week bevause they would be home then and make sure you were never alone. When the come back, they move immediately to a place with a better security system and a higher police presence. They also get you a dog, a 10 week old Malinois puppy that they start training as a guard and personal protection dog for you to keep them safe when they're away. They love watching you with the pup, taking care of it as if it was your child, and love watching you on the cameras all cuddled up with the dog on the sofa, peace on their heart knowing they have something there to keep you safe while their away

Wait omg yes?? They are away on deployment but they are absolutely sending you a text to check on you ever hour and if not them, it’s Laswell who does. You’ve been given strict, actual orders to not leave your friend’s house and your friend has been given even stricter orders to stay with you and neither one is about to disobey them now lol

“Your roommates are scary,” she tells you, shivering. But pats your shoulder. “Good for you, though. I wouldn’t have let you go back, anyways. Not safe at all.”

The week passes like that, and when they return, they don’t take you back to the old apartment to stay. They take you there to help you pack up your shit because in that week, they’ve already bought a new apartment with better security and even closer to the station and your college and they don’t even let you stress about what it means for you and your rent- “It’ll stay the same, love. Don’t worry your pretty head.”

They don’t let you worry about the person who broke in, either. Johnny and Simon come back one night from what you assumed must’ve been a date night, but they kind of smell metallic like blood when they join you on the couch and snuggle you between them.

You aren’t stupid. But… if anything, you honestly find the implications hot. As hot as it was watching Kyle install new cameras and sensors and give you a forehead kiss when you just stood there nice and pretty in your attempts of being helpful. As hot as it was watching John basically command the building’s security around, holding you close to him with his arm.

Also- yes to the puppy 🥹 you get to name her and she adores you, little paws constantly clicking on the floor as she follows you and a nose pressed to your legs. She takes wonderfully to her training, and obeys all her commands and you even got to see how she tore one one of the training equipment.

And they love watching you with her, be it through the cameras or actually there with you. It’s nice to see you so happy and content, either napping with the puppy in your arms or playing around the apartment with her, or curled on the couch with her tucked against you.

They didn’t let their guard down, though. Even if they took care of the intruder. They would never risk you getting hurt, or anything happening to you.

Never.

[just-a-sewer-goblin]

Collars of Duty 1

Hybrid!Simon x reader - Chapter 2 -

When a new problem hybrid is brought to the rehab center, you're called in from medical leave. Having been through hell he's classed as dangerous but you believe he deserves a chance. Hopefully you both can heal each other without adding to old wounds.

I dedicate this story to @kiwiimochi because they said they'd be interested in a story like this. I hope you enjoy and you're welcome to tell me what you think.

Content: hybrid AU, brief description of wounds, allusions to torture

The call comes through in the middle of the night, ripping you from deep slumber that for once was peaceful.

You wake with a gasp, heart immediately racing to outrun the invisible danger. It takes you a few seconds to blink the last remnants of sleep from your eyes. You’re at home, in your bed. There is no danger around, except the phone that rings impatiently in your bedside drawer.

You recognize the ringtone. It’s your work phone, which hasn’t rung in weeks even though you always keep it on and charged. It’s slightly unsettling to hear it ring at such an ungodly hour. It’s freeing too, to realize that your heart slowly calms down and you do not spiral into a panic attack.

Yawning your reach into the drawer and open it, getting the angrily vibrating phone and hold it up to your ear.

“Hello?”

“We need you here.”

You’re stunned into silence. Everyone knows you’re on medical leave. They should know better than to call you in randomly during the night. They -

“Like right now.” You recognize Elizabeth’s voice and your heartrate skyrockets again.

“Liz, you know that I’m on leave. You know wh-“

“They want to put him down.” Her voice interrupts you, full of urgency.

That has you sitting bolt upright. Putting down hybrids has been illegal for years now and the center mostly adheres to those laws. Mostly, not always and when they don’t they usually have a damn good reason not to.

Working at a government managed rehabilitation center for hybrids meant that sometimes they put their decisions above the law.

You’re already out the bed and stumbling around the room while trying to get dressed one handed.

“I’m coming. Anything I should know?”

You tuck the phone between your shoulder and your ear so you can use both hands to pull on your pants. The short pause strains your nerves. She wouldn’t have called you if the others could handle whatever was happening.

“Liz?” You prompt her.

“Belgian Malinois hybrid. Military. They found him after he was MIA for moths. Severely malnourished, signs of torture all over him. No idea how they managed to get him into a chopper and bring him here, but he is here.” She rattles down and if you didn’t know her better you’d think that she doesn’t care. But you do know her better. Staying professional helps her not to break down with cases like this.

Hectically you tuck a shirt over your head, gather your things and basically run out the door. When you started working at the center you moved as close as possible to your new workplace and because you were lucky that meant living just down the street.

Running along the sidewalk you urge her on. “What more, Liz. I need everything you can give me.”

The silence speaks volumes. She hesitates, then goes on.

“He attacked and killed one of the soldiers that brought him here. They sedated him but said if no one wants to work with him, they have to put him down. I’ve seen hybrids go animal before but not like this.”

You grit your teeth at that. You hated the term ‘going animal’ even if it was a widely accepted term when working with hybrids. Just because they we’re genetically part animal didn’t mean, that them going berserk was less human that an ordinary person losing it.

And if what she told you was true, he had more than enough reason to lose his marbles.

Before you can ask another question you reach the fence of the rehab compound and to your surprise Liz is there, already opening the door for you so you won’t have to use your access card. You end the call and pocket your phone when you approach her.

“I want to say it’s good to have you back but the circumstances make the whole thing slightly less cheery.” She greets you and then engulfs you in a heartfelt hug.

Damn, you missed her. Liz didn’t work with the hybrids as a handler. She was part of the office team but she was one of your favorite coworkers here. Liz got shit done while taking none and still she was the nicest, sweetest person around.

You nod, returning her hug. Then you breathe deeply, preparing yourself to actually step foot into the facility again. The very reason why you were on medical leave in the first place. It doesn’t feel as bad as you feared but you’re not sure how you will react to the hybrid.

“Where is he? What’s his name?”

Liz sighs deeply. “He’s in the cell. The others refused to work with him when they heard the details from the soldiers. Honestly, I don’t blame them but I thought it was worth calling you.”

You nod grimly and let her lead the way. The facility worked with aggressive hybrids a lot. Problematic cases were nothing new. But one who had murdered mere hours ago was new territory. You’re not sure this is the best decision.

Was this the kind of case you were ready to come back for? After what happened? This had the potential to ruin any progress you had made during your leave.

No. You couldn’t let him be put down just because you were scared. He deserved a chance and if all the others were too worried then you’d give him the chance. Even if it might cost you the stability you’d gained back.

Liz comes to a halt before the cell and turns to you. Her hands clasp onto your shoulders, looking at you through her glasses.

“Thank you for trying.” She hesitates briefly. “Don’t destroy yourself over it though. If he’s lost, he’s lost. You can’t save everyone.”

Her words make your throat tighten and swallowing seems like an impossible feat. You nod, despite the unease bubbling up in you.

He’s a person, you remind yourself. It’s not like you’re meeting a wild animal.

Finally you turn to look through the small window into the cell. The large hybrid nearly steals your breath. He’s still unconscious, lying on the mattress at the far end of the otherwise unfurnished cold cell. The dark pointed ears that peek out of his shaggy hair twitch every now and then.

“His name?” You ask again, your voice a whisper, even though you’re not entirely sure why you feel the need to quiet down.

He is dirty beyond belief; his hair unkempt and you can make out a slight beard on his strong jaw through the bars of his muzzle.  You grind your teeth at the sight of it. Using muzzles of that type on hybrids has also been forbidden and you wonder if they found him like this or put it on him.

The fact that he doesn’t wear a shirt, only ripped and sullied pants, grants you an unobstructed view of his torso. There are various wounds in different phases of healing and his ribs are overly visible beneath his skin.

The twin wounds on his left draw your eyes. They seem almost circular and are located between his ribs. Already crusted over messily they seem to not be the newest ones; still you shudder with how painful they look. Over the ribs that lay between those wounds the skin is blackish blue and bruised.

You decide to not look closely at his other wounds as to not make you feel shakier than you already do. Instead you look at his face again. That too is covered in shallow cuts but those do not make your insides want to turn over.

His hair seems to be a deep, dark brown, matching the ears and you wonder how he’ll look, once he’s clean and not on the brink of starvation. Liz’ voice interrupts your thoughts.

“Simon Riley. Lieutenant.”

You both know rank means almost nothing when it comes to hybrids but you don’t comment on the information. You’re about to ask something else when he starts stirring and you hold your breath. Even though you’re outside you feel the tension rise along with his consciousness from the artificial sleep.

Two figures, that were obstructed from view before because they stood so close to the wall, step forward. Soldiers, you realize and they have their weapons trained on the slowly waking hybrid. On Simon.

As soon as he’s halfway conscious he scrambles to his feet, slightly swaying in his spot. He tries to bring his arms to the front but they seem to be tied behind his back. His tail grows stiff behind him, the ears tilt back and his upper lip curls into a snarl revealing his canines while his eyes fixate on the soldiers.

You can hear his deep resounding growl through the door and everything in you wants to run. This is a military hybrid, all right. Everything about him is big and intimidating, the aggression rolling off of him in waves along with the resounding growl.

Instead of running you set your shoulders and breathe deeply. “Let me inside and get the soldiers out.” You say a lot more confidently than you feel. Evidently their way of handling him is not working.

Liz raises her eyebrows but communicates with the guards inside. Slowly they back towards the door, keeping their guns pointed at the hybrid while Liz unlocks the door. Quicker than you can comprehend you changed positions with one of the guards, the other staying with his gun still pointing at Simon.

“”Out.” You command. You wish your body was as unwavering as your voice but you can feel a subtle shaking start in your legs.

The soldier seems conflicted but Elizabeth keeps the door open and he backs out too. Everyone at the center knows that working with hybrids comes with a lot of risks. If this goes south all you’ll be is a small stack of papers on Liz’ desk, waiting to be signed. And maybe a body to be buried.

You’re alone with him now, the heavy door closing behind you and the hostility rolling off Simon nearly suffocates you. His eyes are now fixed solely on you and he seems to be weighing his options, every muscle in his body coiled tight, ready to attack you.

You pray that he doesn’t.

You study him for a moment longer and you see the sheen on sweat that appears on his skin. This is not only aggression. He’s scared. Scared of you and somehow the fear being mutual calms you down. This hybrid must have been through hell and now he woke in a strange room after forcefully being sedated. You’d be scared shitless too and growl at people.

“Hello.”

You hold the eye contact and the way his ears perk forward for a second before going back again would be adorable in any other situation. The growl stutters before returning stronger than before. He reacted to being spoken to. Liz’ had exaggerated, maybe they’d misinterpreted him, because this hybrid was not on a murder spree.

Yet he’d killed earlier, you have to remind yourself. Just because you were a softie didn’t mean he’d spare you.

Slowly you raise your hands. “I’m just going to sit down, here. Do you know where you are?”

You can see the confusion on his face at the fact you talk to him and you mentally curse the soldiers that brought him in. Despite his display being more animalistic than human he is still a person before all else. How come they hadn't had the common sense to talk to him?

His keen eyes don’t miss even one of your movements as you settle down and cross your legs.

“You were found just north of the border in Texas.” It’s difficult to keep your voice as soft as possible with the way your throat is so tight. For a second you hate yourself because you’re thankful that he is muzzled and his arms are restrained.

Then you remind yourself that he is not Phillip and despite what Liz told you, you will judge him based on his behavior not on the stories. Like you should have with Phillip.

Something about what you said makes his ears perk up. He’s still careful but the previous stifling aggression is gone. Once again you try to suppress your anger at the soldiers not talking to him. This isn’t nearly as bad as they made it out to be.

“They brought you to a rehabilitation facility for hybrids that work with the authorities or the military. You might have heard of it before. It’s called “Rehybrid” which is a stupid name if you ask me but I wasn’t born when they decided on that so…”

Now he cocks his head at you and you try to keep from smiling. You know you’re rambling but it seems to help so you keep going.

“Not everyone is gifted in name giving.” Without much of a pause and consciously casually you continue on. “Mind if I take the handcuffs off of you?”

That makes him stiffen, reflexively his lip curls up again a small growl starting up. Of course he doesn’t trust you. But you’re also very aware of how unfair it is to have him shackled and muzzled when he feels threatened already.

“I know. I wouldn’t want anyone near me too if I were in your position but I think it would only be fair.” You’re very aware of the fact, that Liz, and the soldiers probably too, are watching through the window, most definitely thinking you’ve lost your mind.

Simon shakes his head and even if it is disappointing it makes you feel incredible that he interacted with what you said. Your chest expands and you suddenly feel like a big boulder lifted off your shoulders. That’s a good start.

“It’s okay, I won’t do it then. Just give me a sign when you’re ready.”

Once again you briefly glance at the state his body is in and you slightly wince. Yeah, maybe you would have to press a little harder.

“Listen. I really want to give you the time and space but I think your wounds and your body are on slightly tighter schedule than I am. I won’t force you but I don’t want you dying on me.”

His eyes widen at that and in that moment you’d pay to know what he’s thinking. It’s interesting to watch him as he seems to mentally take note of his body. He nods at you and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Take the cuffs off?”, you ask again just to be sure. Simon nods again.

Keeping it slow and easily predictable you stand up again and raise your hand to the latch in the door, opening it and sticking your hand through it. If Liz and the soldiers listened, they’ll give you the key, hopefully.

For a few agonizingly long heartbeats nothing happens, then a key is dropped into the palm of your hand and you close the latch again.

“I’m going to take a step towards you and then you can come to me. Sound good?”

Simon nods again and you take the step. His body tenses but then he crosses the small space and turns his back to you. His chest is heaving and his back is damp with cold sweat. It’s almost unnerving the way he has his head tilted as far to the side as possible, watching you out of the corner of his wide eye. If you make one wrong move he could still easily put you on the ground.

This close you can smell him and the stench coming off of him almost makes you gag. You try to breathe through your mouth at the smell of something rotten assaulting your nose. There's also the underlying smell of piss and filth along with other scents you can't identify. You concentrate on the task at hand in order not to imagine what might have happened to him.

Trying not to stress him out more, you talk him through the short process of taking off the handcuffs. His fast breathing makes you slightly worried that he’ll hyperventilate.

The moments the cuffs are on the floor he’s on the other side of the room again and his hands are tearing at the muzzle on his head. His fingers are frantic and a nail on his already damaged hands breaks, a little bit of blood welling up.

“Wait, please!” You call out desperately but his movements only grow more hectic. The muzzle he has on is designed so the hybrid is unable to take it off without seriously injuring themselves. His nimble fingers flit all over the piece, grabbing and tugging until he decides to just start pushing it upwards off his face.

Immediately the metal cuts into his cheeks and you know he’ll do it anyway. He doesn’t care about cutting his skin in the process. Panic swells in your chest at the thought of him shredding his face just to be muzzle free.

“Please, Simon, Stop!” You say desperately in a last attempt before he pulls it off his face. Against everything you expected he freezes, eyes going wide.

“Simon, that’s your name, right?”, you question your hands outstretched as if you could keep him from hurting himself further by sheer force of will.

You’re shaking and you know he can see it. Swallowing is almost painful. “Please don’t hurt yourself, I’ll take it off of you but please stop hurting yourself.”

His eyes narrow but this time he hesitates less before nodding and stepping towards you. God he is big. You’re all too aware of how incredibly vulnerable you are right now. He could probably rip you apart with his bare hands if he wanted to.

He’s a fully trained soldier and you… you’re just an ordinary person who helps hybrids to get back on their feet. You specifically chose this line of work because you’re soft and stupidly selfless. Using those traits for work seemed like a good option to turn them into strengths.

Now you’re all too aware of how little your softness would guard you against Simon’s brute strength. Even on the brink of starvation the fact that he’s a weapon remains.

Achingly slow your hands reach up to the muzzle, feeling along it for the mechanism to unlock. His eyes stare into yours and this close you can see that they’re the color of dark honey. Nothing about the expression in them is sweet though and you have to consciously swallow against the lump forming in your throat.

You unlock the mechanism and Simon stays in your personal space for a second longer. You don’t break the eye contact and slowly he moves backwards until there is enough room to breathe between you two again.

He flexes his jaw for a moment to test it and this time you smile. His eyes narrow at that but you don’t let it deter you.

Until now he hasn’t made a move to hurt you and you decide to introduce yourself. When you tell him your name he still doesn’t answer but he’s attentive and you think that maybe it will be fine after all.