#Best practices for rescue dog training

[pawsoothe]

How to Train a Rescue Dog: 10 Proven Tips

Bringing a rescue dog into your home can be one of the most rewarding experiences of your life. However, integrating a rescue dog into your household often requires patience, consistency, and a thorough understanding of the dog’s unique needs. Many rescue dogs have faced challenges such as neglect, abandonment, or trauma, which can impact their behavior and ability to trust humans. This guide…

[glassbxttless]

Whiskey

sam o’brien (warfare) x fem!reader

word count: 2.2k+

summary: you and sam get a dog.

warnings: pre-warfare sam, just fluff! a little bit of swearing. don’t ask me how i know what a puppy that eats drywall looks like 💀 also!! if your pets have any of the names in here— i love them, i promise 🫶🏻

notes: spay and neuter your pets folks— and do your best to find rescue animals, foster, and/or only go to reputable breeders. i wanted to write something short and soft, so big thanks to @peachyproserpina for giving me the idea and beta reading so quickly!

Ever since the two of you had started dating, you had known Sam had wanted a dog. Being 18 and 19 then, neither of you had a notion on how to even care for yourselves let alone an animal— so you kept pushing it back. Pushing it back for the next milestone. Your first apartment together was too small, and then Sam’s first deployment was too soon, and then you had just bought your first house together. But now— 25 and 26, you had run out of excuses to use to keep delaying the inevitable. You were homeowners— a little white two story house with a fenced in yard, the American dream.

So you spent weeks researching breeds, training methods, food brands, everything. He’d insisted on a golden retriever from the start. But you weren’t convinced— you were living this picture perfect life straight from a fucking catalogue and now he wanted the dog on page 10 too? But all of your research kept leading you down the same path Sam was on. A golden retriever did fit your lifestyle. So five weeks after beginning your research for the perfect dog, here you were— driving to meet a litter of puppies on the other side of town. You’d checked shelters and breeders, rescue centers. Each time landing on senior dogs you’d been more than happy to give a home to, but then Sam had saw the ad on Facebook. An older woman had found a stray mama and her pups in her barn. She searched for their owners and there was no response. So now she was stuck with finding suitable homes for the bunch. 

You two had settled down into bed with the ad that night, scrolling through the photos like it was your life’s mission. And one of the puppies had caught your eye. He was big compared to his siblings, dark, with an almost red hue. The photos had made him out to look sweet and spunky. A perfect mix of you and Sam. You both had agreed on him that night, sending her a quick message on when you could meet them; you could practically hear him running around the house, tail wagging and knocking everything over in it’s wake.

You had piled in the car the following Sunday to make the trip over. Sam was practically vibrating with excitement, he was finally getting a dog. And he was getting him with you. “I swear to God, if that little red shit doesn’t immediately imprint on me like Jacob did to that little shit in Twilight, I’m returning him.”

You rolled your eyes, a soft laugh leaving your lips. “Returning him to where, exactly? I doubt she issues refunds.”

“I don’t know. The fucking void? Your mom’s garage? Or maybe I’ll just live in the backyard with him until he learns who his favorite parent will be.” He shot you a smug grin, eyes drifting back to the road in front of him. “It’s gonna be me, if you weren’t aware. You’ll be the mean one who says ‘no’ too fucking much and wipes up his accidents when he pees on the hardwood. I’ll be the fun one who gives him bacon.”

You shake your head and peek down again at the phone open on your lap. The photos of the pups still pulled up. “Right, because dogs love living in the back yard until they pick a favorite, huh?”

Sam reached over and flicked your thigh like you weren’t supposed to fire right back at him. “You laugh now, but backyard bonding is a time-honored tradition between Man and Man’s Best-Friend. I give him a stick, we stare into the distance together, howl at a few birds— boom. Soulmates. I’m sure he wouldn’t even eat me if I died, like your fuckin mom’s cats would.”

You laugh a little louder, eyes still on the photos on your phone. That almost red pup was front and center of the group. Towering over his brothers and sisters with the biggest paws and floppiest ears. “Sam, just look at him. He looks like he’d eat our drywall.”

“Exactly,” He chuckles softly in response, “That’s a dog with vision. We gotta name that guy right, or he’s gonna destroy everything we own in protest. And I don’t really feel like picking out a new couch, so please for the love of God don’t suggest something like Apollo.”

You tilted your head, eyes scanning over the photo as you think. “He kinda looks like you after you’ve been out drinking…”

Sam glanced over at you, his hand settling against the skin of your thigh, grinning. His fingers brushing under the hem of your pajama shorts as his thumb digs into the side with the pressure of his squeeze. “Whiskey.”

You look at his hand and then at him. He looks at you and then turns his attention back to the road in front of him— turning left when the gps decides to speak up. “…Actually?” you ask, not exactly hating the way the name rolled off your tongue.

Sam shrugs a bit, smiling ear to ear. “Why not? He’s the right color, he’s probably gonna cause a scene if we leave him alone for like five minutes, and also— hello— Whiskey’s my favorite vice. Just a seems a little too fitting, no?”

You bit your lip to keep from smiling too wide, but it wasn’t working no matter how hard you tried. “So what you’re saying is, we name our dog after your greatest weakness.”

Sam nodded, pulling into the drive that had been given to them. “Yes. I want to look him in the eyes every day and be reminded that I am soft. Weak. Controlled entirely by love and impulse… And barrel aged liquor.”

You grinned. “So, Whiskey then?”

He nodded again, the name rolling off his tongue like it was always meant to be there. “It’s Whiskey.” Sam parks the car, reaching down to unbuckle the seatbelt against him. The puppies were already tumbling over each other in a pen in the yard with enough space for them to run and play. There were six of them— most of them that dark golden color you and Sam had fallen in love with from the first photo. As you slide out, Sam sends the woman— who was walking down from the porch— a wave. You walk around the car to meet him where he was standing with his hand outstretched. Taking it in yours and lacing your fingers, he leads you over to the pen of puppies. Sam and the woman chat for a few moments and then he immediately steps over the gate and kneels down to greet them in their pen, pulling one of the darker pups into his lap. The one you had come to take home with you. The little guy was a bundle of energy, squirming and licking his hands. Little paws hit against his chest as the little guy stretches out and licks his face. 

You step over the gate to the pen as well and crouch down beside Sam, ready to commit to your original choice in Sam’s lap. But then your eyes landed on her— the almost-white golden retriever pup hanging towards the back of the group. She was smaller than the rest of her siblings, her fur a soft cream that almost gave you a headache in the sunlight. She had the sweetest, most curious eyes. And when she turned to you, it was like you could see right into her soul and she could yours. You reached out for her gently, your heart doing that funny little flip in your chest. The one you used to get when Sam would do anything that made you fall even further into love with him. She immediately crawls into your lap, her little nails leaving scratches on your bare thighs. But she’s nuzzling into your chest, and it felt like everything else— the other pups, especially the one in Sam’s lap— had faded into the background.

Sam looked over, still holding onto the boy you had talked about, and raised an eyebrow at the way you were looking at the dog in your lap. He knew she was the one you were taking home as soon as your eyes hit his, but he still asks. “Wait, I thought we were taking him?”

You smiled softly, tears pricking your eyes— you had never felt a connection with a dog like this before. You look back down at the little white girl, pressed against your chest. “I don’t know, Sam. I think this one’s ours.”

Sam followed your gaze, letting the little guy in his lap back down to tumble over his siblings. He reaches out to scratch behind her ears. “Well, she’s cute, babe. I’ll give you that. But… she’s… is she even a Golden Retriever if she’s white?”

You didn’t even care. She was perfect to you. The instant you’d met her eyes, you were already imagining the future— her, Sam, and you. That woman watched the two of you and smiled, knowing she’d found a home that would love her as much as she had loved the puppies. “She’s the runt of the litter, a little shy with the others, but she’s got a lot of spirit. You’ve got time for her, I think she’ll do well with you.”

You just nodded, your heart full as you press a little kiss to the top of her head— your eyes still full of tears. “She’s the one.”

And Sam just takes the sight in front of him, smiling. He’s so in love with you. You’re everything to him. And now you two were going to be raising a dog that you just found some sort of soul connection with. So he wipes his hands off on his jeans as he pushes up to stand, dragging his wallet out of his back pocket. But the woman won’t take the money for her, not when she’s seen just how perfect a home she’s going to. Because that’s all she wanted. “Just pay off her vet bill and get her spayed, kids. She’s yours.”

Once you’re back in the car— you cradle her in your lap the entire ride home. Your arms wrapped around her little body and her soft off-white nose tucked under your chin as she sleeps soundly against your chest. She’s comfortable, like she’s known you forever. Like you were always meant to be her mom. Every now and then, she lets out a tiny huff in her sleep and stretches one of her little paws against you. Catching in your hoodie pocket every single time, and it makes your chest ache with how much you already love her.

Sam glances over at you. He’s got one hand on the wheel and the other is fiddling with the radio until he can get the volume down enough to talk to you— and then his hand is finding its home against your thigh. “Alright, so I guess we’ve gotta change the name.”

You glance up from where you had just been staring at her. “Why? Whiskey still fits.”

“She’s not whiskey-colored, babe,” Sam sighs, giving your thigh a squeeze. “She’s more like… milk colored. Or maybe oat milk if she gets a little dirty.”

You turn your head, arching an eyebrow up at him. “You want to name our beautiful little dog Oat Milk?”

“I’m just brainstorming here, honey,” he says defensively, his thumb now rubbing small circles against your knee. “Alright, what about Daisy? She looks a bit like a Daisy.”

“She looks like someone who would eat a Daisy,” you say, running your fingers along her tiny ear, earning a shift of her little body even closer to you. “Daisy’s too soft.”

“Alright, fine.” He starts listing them off, a finger tapping the other side of your knee. “Bailey? Luna? Honey? No— wait. Nala. That’s a classic one. Who doesn’t love the Lion King?”

You smile softly, moving one of your hands from around her to place over Sam’s as you look back down at her. She’s still curled up, her little tail twitching against your legs in her sleep. You say it so quietly, Sam barely hears. “She still feels like a Whiskey to me.”

Sam glances over at you for just a moment. “Yeah?”

You nod. “I mean… We didn’t really expect to get her… I dunno, she’s sweet and strong rolled up into one. And she got into our system real fast. I swear, one look and I was done for, Sammy.”

He hums, letting Whiskey settle in his brain just as much as the way Sammy had rolled off your lips. “You should write Hallmark cards or something.” He chuckles, but he doesn’t object.

You squeeze his hand, eyes moving over to meet his as tears begin to prick your own again. “You’re on board then?”

He exhales through his nose, staying quiet for just a few moments before he’s lifting his hand from your leg and scratches gently under her chin— his eyes still on the road. “Alright, Whiskey. Hope you’re ready for a life of living with the hottest mom around and all the bacon you can eat. You hit the jackpot, kid.”

Whiskey lets out a soft little grunt and nuzzles closer to your chest, like she already knows how much she’s loved.

Sam laughs, his hand leaving Whiskey’s chin to slip around your shoulder, playing with the hair at the back of your neck as he grins. “God, she’s gonna love me the most.”

You don’t even look up from her. “Keep fucking dreaming, O’Brien.”

tags ;;

[mr-celestial-writings]

What Partner Pokemon I Think The Batfam would have.

Summary: What's on the tin: Here are the partner pokemon I think Members of the Batfam would have.

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Bruce Wayne:

Crobat, not only because it's a bat pokemon, but because it's a friendship evolution. I can see Bruce encountering a Zubat after his parents died, and despite his fear, keeping it as his partner pokemon.

It's fast, strong, and I think Bruce would appreciate those qualities in his Partner Pokemon.

Crobat isn't an uncommon pokemon either, so if he ever needs to use it as Batman, it wouldn't give away his identity.

Richard "Dick" Grayson:

This one was a harder one to figure out. It may not be a pokemon known for it's agility or flexibility, but I can see Dick having his partner pokemon be a Lycanroc. Specifically Midday form.

Dick is already a dog owner canonically, I can see him collecting all the dog-like pokemon. Lycanroc is a known loyal pokemon, though. According to It's Pokedex entry in Scarlet, anyways.

Dick would have probably recieve Rockruff from his parents before they died, every child needs a best friend, after all. It would have been his greatest comfort after the accident.

Dick would use his partner on the field, mainly for search and rescue.

Jason Todd:

I can see Jason's Partner Pokemon being a Trevenant he's had since his pre-robin Days, as a Phantump.

He never "officially" Caught it, though. And you bet when Bruce saw a Phantump around Jason's grave he thought is was Jason.

When Jason came back, he was glad to see his little buddy was well taken care of. He offically caught it and trained it to be as strong as possible before evolving it into Trevenant.

Phantumps, canonically, are the spirit's of dead kids, usually those who died in the woods. So this Phantump latched onto Jason, trying to keep him alive. They are best friends and Jason will absolutely use this Ghost to freak people out.

Timothy "Tim" Drake:

Tim would have a Froslass. Not because I think he's weird, but because I think his parents just gave him a Snorunt to keep him entertained.

He probably thought it would turn into a Glalie, until they found a dawn stone

It's beautiful, cold, dangerous. Things Tim can and will respect. As a Ghost type, it's expected to be more stealthy. Sure, I could have given Tim an Alakazam, or something, but that doesn't fit him in my mind.

Tim would have a partner that looks weak, but he knows is strong, especially before he was fully accepted as Robin by Bruce.

Stephanie Brown:

I could see Steph having a Tinkaton. Not because it's pink or a fairy type, but because it's strong.

Steph is strong, brave. She deserves a pokemon that reflects that. Ontop of that, Tinkaton goes after bird pokemon. Steph was going after being Robin, but found a better role for her.

Ontop of it, it's immune to Poison types, since it is a steel type. It is a great counter to Bruce's Crobat.

Damian Wayne:

I'm giving Damian a Zorua. I could give him a dog, bat, or whatever else pokemon to reflect his pokemon. So, why give him a Zorua?

Simple, Zorua, and It's evolution, Zoroark, take the form of the last pokemon in your party. Somebody who was raised an assassin, and now hides his identity as Robin would respect that.

Talia would have given Damian Zorua, so her son had somebody to practice his stealth with, and somebody to confide in. Zorua gets treated like a king, as deserved.

Duke Thomas:

Duke deserves something fast that can hit like a truck. So, I think Duke would have A Kilowatrel. It also matches his color theme and leans into the fact that Duke carried the title of Robin.

According to it's pokedex entry it can fly over 430 miles a day, and for Duke, that could be useful.

Not only could Kilowatrel alert Duke using it's electricity, but it could get him somewhere quick in case of an emergency.

Kate Kane:

She's the Batwoman. She deserves having a Bat dragon. She's badass, and you know Bruce would convince her to lean into the theme.

I can see Kate having Noivern. It may not be the strongest, but from what I've gathered about Kate is that it's not how strong somebody is, she cares about character.

Noivern in it's pokedex entry are notes as being "Cruel." But under Kate? You bet that will be the best behaved, kindest Noivern you've ever known.

She would also use it's ultrasonic waves to fight crime, and/or fuck with people.

Barbara Gordon:

Barbara is a master of tech, what's a better match than Rotom? It can hop from machine to machine. It could not only boost Barbara's work and power but mess with her enemies if she gives the order.

It's not entirely out of character for Rotom either. They are known trouble makers. Good thing Babs knows how to handle those.

Cassandra "Cass" Cain:

Cass is a fighter, and she is also kind hearted. She was raised to be a weapon, but she chose to be Batgirl.

Cass gets a Lucario. A friendship evolution that can literally vibe check you. She wouldn't have chosen it, instead, a Riolu would have chosen her, because it would have known.

It's a fighting/steel type. Strong, and also immune to poison. Resiliant, and just. There is no better fit for Cassandra in my opinion.

Alfred Pennyworth:

Alfred is a loyal man. He's a great butler and father figure, at least to Bruce. But he's also dangerous.

There's one pokemon that comes to mind to be his partner. Polteagiest.

It's tea is as dangerous as it is delicious, especially when one drinks too much of it.

Both can appear non-threatening, but don't you dare push them.

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a/n: It's my hyperfixation and I can merge them however I want!

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Hi Hal!

Congratulations on finishing all the requests (there were so many good ones!!) and thank you for opening them up again!! I’m excited to see what you have in store for us with all your other projects, bestie!!! 😊😊

I was unsure of who to request at first because there are so many good ones but then I saw Hesh’s name and an idea hit me.

If you’re ok with it, could you possibly write one for Hesh where the reader is part of the Ghosts has been taken/captured by the Federation and after some time, they get intel on where she is so they go out to rescue her and she and Hesh are reunited? I don’t know if you want it to be a pre-established relationship or one where they both admit their feelings after they get her back, so I’m leaving it up to you. But I need a little rescue/reunion fic to fill the void in my heart that the ending of Ghosts made.

As always, feel free to change it up as you see fit and do whatever you want. I just think that Hesh deserves more love and I wouldn’t be opposed to seeing Riley again (aka: the best dog in the world)!!

Thank you and remember to take care of yourself and I appreciate you and your work!! 💕💕 Love you, bestie!!!!

Lengths Of Love

PAIRING: David 'Hesh' Walker x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: You'd loved Hesh for as long as you can remember, and you'd pulled him out of trouble for even longer, but you'd never had the courage to tell him how you feel. Until you do. Until you're being dragged away from his broken body.

WORDCOUNT: 10.7k

WARNINGS: Major spoilers for CoD: Ghosts, heavy angst, blood, guts, descriptions of wounds, canon-typical violence, weapons and firearms, death, torture involving: drugs/hallucinogens, physical violence, mental stress, talks of PTSD, anxiety, paranoia, rescue fic, best friends to lovers plot, wounds that would 100% kill you that you live from (plot armor fr), etc.

A/N: Bestie, I don't know what you put into your prompts, lmao, but I always end up writing so much for you!! Thanks so much for sending something in <3<3

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

The beginning of the end started with good intentions and one statement. 

“You hear this? It’s Rorke. He’s here. They’re evacuating on the train system below.” Hesh’s green eyes darted to you and Logan, his painted face a collection of rage and surety. The three of you were, in an instant, in agreement of revenge—there was no question as to what had to be done. Merrick couldn’t stop you, not on this. 

Rorke had made one of the most dangerous decisions of his life, and that was underestimating the Walker boys and their partner in sinful crime. 

“Harp,” you look away from the body of the warhead as it enters the atmosphere, locking onto Hesh’s hard eyes; the ones that had grown steadily colder since the death of his father, Elias. But it wasn’t just him—the patriarch had been close to you as well. The knowledge of his passing, witnessing it as the rope restraints seared into your flesh, had lit an all-consuming fire in your gut.

Like hounds, the scent of blood had hit the air. 

“Let’s get the bastard. Now or never,” you ease out, and Logan darts his gaze down to you from behind his balaclava. 

“Damn right,” Hesh barks, nodding firmly to you.

Anyone would have missed the way your gaze lingered on him as he darted off and began rushing down the stairs from the control room, Logan ever quick at his heels. But they wouldn’t have missed the way your breath pushed out a soft sigh as your eyes kept locked on the back of Hesh’s head as you followed after. 

You’d been childhood friends since practically infancy, a neighbor to the Walkers. It was natural that Hesh would grow to be the object of your daydreams ever since grade school; a constant and digging knife into your heart when he’d repeatedly pick other girls over you.

But such was life. 

All that mattered now was bringing down Rorke, silly love could wait.

“Merrick,” Hesh yelled down his line, the world outside this building rampant with open war. “The missile’s away and we’ve got a lead on Rorke, we’re going after him!” 

The white double doors meet the three of you as you all rush to them, and the panicked man’s voice flashes down the line immediately. 

“Negative Hesh! You three get back here and return to the rally point. We’ll track him down together.”

You call, “Isn’t an option, Merrick. We can’t let this one go.” 

You and Hesh ram your shoulders into the doors, Logan darting through first with his weapon drawn down the hallway. The brunette’s and your shoulders brush in a jostling of gear—pulling the back as your eyes lock. Cold light seeps from overhead, metal under your feet clanking in-key.

You look away before Hesh agrees and levels with the Ghost over the line to push your point. “Sorry, Merrick. Your mission is complete…ours isn’t.”

Federation heads pop up from behind makeshift barriers of barrels and other stacked items and as you all enter and clear rooms, alarms blare with the ferocity of fighting lions. Hesh keeps by your side, offering you openings that you greedily take as another soldier falls with a stiff twitch of your finger on the trigger. 

Darting behind cover, the man slams to the space beside you, calling over above the noise and the whizz of bullets.

“How long till impact?!” You shove a new clip into your FAD, brushing sweat and blood from your cheeks, smearing patches of your own paint. 

Glancing at the watch on your wrist, you hear Logan pushing the line. You dart out of cover to help—locking onto hostiles and backing up the younger brother with quick feet.

“Eight minutes, Hesh! You got a plan that doesn’t leave me with scorched hair?” He finds it in himself to laugh, clocking a soldier to your left and riddling him with bullets. 

“We need to get to that train, Harp. Don’t worry—I’ll kiss the burns away for you.” He rushes past and sends a smirk over his shoulder. You’re left stunned for a second, wishing that the teasing tilt to the older brother’s words was more than that. You blink, and the feeling is forced away.

Later.

“Keep pushing, Logan,” Hesh moves on. You all sprint down descending ramps, farther and farther underground with every step; adrenaline building to a breakneck level like weight slowly being added over and over to a chest. “We need to get to Rorke!” 

You didn’t want to tell him, but, while revenge was on your plate as well, this was a very reckless idea.

As you grab for a grenade from your belt and jerk on the pin, you chuck it down the way and call out a warning to the boys, who, like a well-oiled machine, dart and wait for it to detonate. Bodies fly, bloody splashes of torn limbs, and three Ghosts materialize from the smoke with masked and painted faces; eyes like fire and veins boiling. 

“Fire team suppressed in 3-1,” Hesh shouts through the line as you slide your knife into a man’s eye, his goggles breaking in a shattering of glass. “Advancing to loading bay!” 

There’s a large elevator ahead for transporting crates, and all of you jog inside as the gate creaks shut.

Merrick’s stiff voice replies, “Roger that.”

Silently, you click into the channel and mutter out as a moment of relative peace coats your body like a blanket, even if for a few small seconds. 

“I’ll keep ‘em safe,” a small twitch of your lips, “Commander.”

A deep and unimpressed voice wafts into your ear with a large sigh. “Know you will—just remember to keep yourself safe in the process, Kid…Don’t do anything stupid.”

You shift your gaze to Hash and find green already staring at you. Blinking, the man quickly darts his vision away and after a moment you turn your face back down to the connection and huff through a burning epidermis.

“Haven't you heard?” The elevator shows the train as it descends down, and you call to the boys, ‘six minutes’, with a firm voice. 

“Stupid seems to follow us three everywhere.”

Hesh points as the figures of more soldiers walk around below. “There’s Rorke’s train, straight ahead!” Sure enough, the worm of black and gray metal extends to your eyes across the large room

“He’ll be on there soon. Logan, take left.” You order and the brown-eyed man nods from beside you, shouldering his rifle and checking the clip. “Hesh?” 

“Taking right—you got Point, Doll.” He stares at you, licking his lips. “Clear the way?” You tilt your head at him as the elevator jumps to a stop, the barrier sliding away. It pains you to look away.

There were so many things you had to tell him. Too many things. 

“Always.” Shiting your face forward, you take a breath and take notice of points of cover, scoping the room in three seconds flat. Screeching wheels and alarms ingrain your eardrums. “On me.” 

As you head out first, fire the first bullet, the two peel off in opposite directions, Hesh only sliding up beside you and uttering into your ear.

“Be safe.” 

That comment makes you want to be anything but, if only he’d whisper into your ear like that again. 

Clearing the room, you can’t get your mind off the fact that this crush was overtaking nearly every part of your life—years of quiet agony and staying your tongue in fear of losing what great friendship you had. 

The stock set into your shoulder recoils with another burst of fire, Federation soldiers scream in pain, but you barely register over the shadows in the sides of your vision. 

“Damnit, Hesh,” you growl, bullet grazing your shoulder as you grunt and slip behind a concrete divider. 

“What’s that?” Your eyes widen comedically. Shit…had you forgotten to close the line? 

“Eh,” you clear your throat, grimacing at the small sparks of pain in your shoulder. “N-nothing.” 

There’s a bout of silence and then a panting voice, rough and growing more serious. “You alright over there, Harp?” You can’t even respond before Hesh quickly continues. “I’m comin’ to you. Stay there.”

You violently shake your head, although he can’t see it.

“Hesh, I’m fine! Keep right and clear that hallway.” 

There’s a deep grunt. “Fine, but if I see one scratch I’m makin’ Riley chase you down the Base when we get back.”

If we get back.

You roll your eyes with a growing smile, steeling yourself and slamming your weapon to the top of the divider before locking onto your targets. “Please, we both know he loves me too much for that.”

“Most I’ll have to do is put a treat in your pocket, Sweetheart.” His sly smirk is heard easily, and you swallow tense-like and breathe shakily. That low drawl in his tone left you more distracted than you could ever get used to. “Hell,” There’s a struggle over the line before the shink of a knife meeting flesh. A breathless chuckle that leaves your gut swirling. “Maybe I’ll just chase you down myself.”

Logan coughs over the line and you have to click off before you scream. Your face flares up until your ears ring and you have to duck behind your cover again before you get metal right to the forehead. 

Behind the barrier, you glare at the floor.

When did general teasing get so hard for you? Jokes and jabs carrying weight—since when? Sure you’d liked—more liked loved—Hesh since before all of this, but you’d carried on well enough. 

“Fucking hell,” you grumble, shaking your head to clear it and rushing. 

The brothers pop through the side hallways to flank the enemy, taking out the one or two hostiles that were still breathing after you level your barrel with the last standing head; firing with a burst of gunpowder.

“Train’s leaving, let's go!” Hesh screams, waving an arm quickly at you, walking backwards on quick feet. “Harp, C’mon!” 

You chuff, hopping the divider and sprinting as the metal object speeds up—there’s a moment where you fear you might miss it, Hesh and Logan both forced to hop on even in your absence.

“Harp!” Green eyes flash, one hand on the railing and the other extended out. 

“On it!” Snapping, you slam your palm into his and feel his strong fingers curl to clutch you. Logan grabs your collar and helps; the both of them easily yanking you over just as the wall of the tunnel engulfs you all in illuminated shadow.

Back meeting the train’s body, you pant and chuckle as Logan shakes his head, amused, and pats your shoulder. You wink at him jokingly. 

“Good save there, Walker Number Two.”

Hesh grabs the side of your neck, looking you over as he leans back with a breathless chuckle at the title for his brother. He blinks quickly at your shoulder, eye narrowing before he reaches out and looks at the blood on your gear.

“You mind telling me what this is, Doll?” You make a nose in the back of your throat as the smell of his musk hits your nostrils; the deadly concoction of his scent and his digging gaze.

Stuttering, you huff. “Eh…bullet graze?”

You’re leveled with thin lips, but Logan grabs his brother by the upper arm and peels him off you, motioning to his radio as the train gains even more speed. Wind whips past your face as Hesh clears his throat, quickly avoiding your eyes. 

The man’s splotchy paint shows his red skin under the darker pigment. 

“Merrick, we’re on the train,” he speaks, shifting past you without another look. “We’re going after Rorke.”

“Solid Copy.” You watch the brunette walk away and hold your breath, though you don’t know why—heart beating not just because of adrenaline. 

Embarrassment breeding in your stomach, you ignore Logan’s knowing stare and push off the wall, rubbing at your bleeding shoulder with a stiff hand. 

—

You break a man’s neck against the wall, hand on the back of his head before you slam it into the hard metal. There’s a crunch of bone and a broken rattle before the broadcasted feed from the screen on the train’s panel spits out a message in panicked Spanish to the already deceased men.

“Evacuation protocol C is in effect. All personnel secure cargo and supplies—”

Hesh interrupts ahead of you as you let the body drop, scowling at the heavy sound of its dead weight. At his angry voice, you perk and tune in.

“Tell Rorke we’re comin’ for him.” There’s a quick shove from the other end of the feed, the previous man disappearing as the individual that takes his place makes your eyes go to slits. A great growl like a wolf echoes from your heart and seeps from between your clenched teeth. 

Rorke’s scarred face appears with a smirk and a cocky voice.

“Why don’t you just tell me yourself?” You look at your boys, more concerned for them as you watch firsthand the trauma the death of their father brought them. 

Logan holds his weapon tighter, fixing his grip. Hesh is a bit more direct. He leans closer to the screen, bearing his teeth like a dog and snarling with rage and hatred.

“You’re done, Rorke.” All of a sudden he peels back a fast fist and sends it careening into the screen—making a shattering of glass and a hard thud emanate deep into your bones. 

Blinking quickly, you tense as it happens, not expecting that. But as soon as you try to make sense of it, the brunette is already banking off to the side door, calling a sharp, “Let’s finish this!”

He grabs the side of the train car and wrenches on the handle, grunting and pushing with all of his might.

“Hesh,” you try to reason, stepping in now before things get too hot. “We need to think of a plan before you rush into things. This could get us in a heap of shit that we might not be able to get out of.”

It’s like he doesn’t hear you, and you spare a glance with Logan for help. But he, too, has already joined his brother with a swish of gear on the handle. With one great push, the door opens to the outside brightness, making your face turn away for a moment. 

Along the far expanse of open sand dunes outside; mountains flanking the bridge this train flies across, you get the perfect view of a warhead meeting the ground in an explosion of fire and death. It bursts far across the valley, and you cover your eyes as the sharp ball of light burns your retinas. 

The shockwave hits moments later, and Hesh says easily as the train shakes and squeals like a metal pig, “Looks like Icarus got control of the rods!” The boys step out onto the platform along the train, and you have no option but to follow. “All that’s left is Rorke, let's go!”

“Hesh,” you try again, hissing out his name, and you’re graced with a quick glance.

“Harp,” he comments, “what is it? We can’t wait any longer—”

“What we can’t do is go in blind!” You shout above the wind, legs stanced to help you stay up. Green eyes twitch with confusion, perhaps even a little hurt. 

“Blind? What are you talking about, we push forward and take what’s owed.” You know how much this means to him—to Logan—but there was a point where pride and stubbornness outweighed sense. This was dangerous, especially for Hesh. 

You were always the one to keep him level; keep him from becoming too much like his dad. 

You’d promised that old bastard you’d look after his boys, albeit in a teasing sense, but to you, it had been a stark vow on your soul. Logan was a brother to you, and Hesh…Hesh would always be more, but that only made your love for them both grow. 

“You keep those two from getting in their heads, you hear? They mean well, but there’s no one I trust more than you to level them out, Harp. I’m proud of you. And I’m sure your folks would be too.” Elias had said that, and when he died you bottled it up and used so much force that coal had turned to diamond. 

You would keep Logan and Hesh safe. Safe, and level, and not hard-headed. 

For as much as you secretly loved your brunette, he sure was stubborn as all hell.

“If you want out, Harp,” Hesh calls to you, gritting his teeth. “Just wait back in the train car. This is something we can’t put off like everything else—this ends now; today. I’m not letting Dad’s killer survive.”

“Son of a bitch, that’s not what I’m saying!” You’re quickly losing your standing. Logan jogs ahead to scout, time ticking. “Hesh, you know that I loved Elias as much as you two did—not one is denying that this needs to happen. I'm with you. But this is too damn dangerous! We can’t rush into this without a plan of attack; of exfil! Do you even know how we’re going to get off of this thing?!” 

Hesh had been isolating the few days he had on the U.S.S Liberator, keeping to his room. The man idolized his father and put him on a pedestal of gold even when he was a teenager. He’d even pushed away from you, which all together was unheard of. Logan had nearly had an aneurism when you’d come back to the cafeteria and shook your head in disappointment after trying to get him to open his door. 

The two of you told each other everything. Always. That was just…how it was.

But the man that Hesh had donned the skin of was not the man you loved.

Hesh glares at you, eyes going alight with anger. 

“If you were with me, you wouldn’t be holding me back.” He turns and runs after Logan, leaving you behind in the open air as the train banks left and right with the sway of the bridge. 

Staring. Barely breathing. Mouth parted and eyes wide. 

When the man is at the end of the current train car, having to jump a small distance to the next, he pauses. His back is tight, and under him, his feet shuffle. 

There’s a moment you hope he’ll turn around and come back, take you into one of his hugs, and squeeze the life out of you. It wouldn’t be such a cruel way to die, you think, to be held in his arms. 

But the next moment you see the back of his head shake, and he jumps over to the next section, not even giving you a second glance.

You don’t want to admit how long you waited there, your mind jumbled and confused. 

Don’t take it personally, you try to tell yourself, sucking down a breath before slowly walking forward. He’s hurt. Grieving. He didn’t mean it.

Rationality was a tool of the level-headed, and you were anything but that nowadays.

Over the line Hesh’s voice makes you flinch as you slowly follow after, train car after train car.

“Rorke must be at the front of the train!” You step over dead bodies and lend merciful bullets to the ones still writhing, boots coated in crimson. Following a trail of wreckage with stiff lungs. 

Stay out of his way? Fine, you could do that.

You stayed back from the head-to-head fighting, laying covering fire and keeping off the comms—whenever Hesh managed to look back at you, you simply moved on to the next hostile. 

Eventually, you all ended up on the rooftops, the boys far ahead and yourself blank-faced at the rear. Logan was acting more concerned than Hesh was, glancing at you constantly in confused worry. But it was very much short-lived.

“Incoming!” The right side of the railcar bursts with fire, and you gasp before grappling for the opposite side of the train, keeping you there before the swaying beast leveled out. “Helos. Take cover and take out the gunners!”

You scoff, quickly making your way behind a connector joint to lean your back against it and catch your breath. Two helicopters fly alongside the train, Logan already firing at one, and Hesh…your eyes narrow with annoyance. Hesh was already running ahead of the pack, his low grunts and growls over the line giving way to his impatience. 

You click your jaw and try to remind yourself that this is the same man who held you close during movie nights and carried you to bed when you fell asleep. Made you waffles when your boyfriend in eighth grade broke up with you on Valentine’s Day.

Stitched your wounds before he gave them a teasing ‘kiss better’ and looked up at you through dark lashes. 

You wildly shake your head to force yourself back to the present.

The gunners are harder to hit not only based on wind and distance alone, but on the erratic movements of the pilots. It’s several clips before you down the second Helo, and Logan’s follows immediately after as they both collide and ram into the mountainside.

You both share a glance and rush after the misguided brunette. 

At the end of the train, only the engine remains. 

“Clear!” Hesh relays, jumping down from the roof of the railcar and hurriedly walking to the white door, leaning against the wall. “We’re at the last car, Logan. Rorke’s pinned, he knows we’re comin’.”

You gaze down from the top as Logan follows, silent and brooding. Your hands along your FAD tighten under your gloves. You don’t even look at the man. 

“Merrick, do you copy?”

“Copy, Hesh.”

“We’re moving in on Rorke.” You slide him a look, seeing him glaring those pretty greens into the ground. “If you hear the word “Checkmate”, you will fire on our position! Confirm?” Your eyes snap with horror, heart lurching.

Surely, you hadn’t heard that right.

Merrick’s voice echoes your frozen confusion. “Say again, repeat your last.”

You jump down and stagger for a moment, barking out a harsh, “What the fuck are you doing?” Inside of your chest, your heart rampages like it never had before. “That’s suicide!”

He was going to kill everyone to bring down Rorke, and you get no answer beyond a clenched jaw and a quick side-eye.

“You heard me, Merrick, on “Checkmate”, hit this train!” The connection is cut and Logan gets into position to shoulder the door open, you watch, stuttering. 

Hesh levels with his brother, “We can’t take any chances, Logan. Even if we fail, Rorke dies.” Panic builds, and you’re taking quick steps forward.

You keep those two from getting in their heads, you hear?

You have to stop them, you have to drag them away—but even you know that deep down the only thing that will stop these two is a bullet. 

Eyes snapping back and forth, you only get close enough to try and snatch at Hesh’s arm right as he finishes a countdown of three; at the end, Logan kicks down the engine room door with a violent connection of his boot.

Even with the drop on the three guards inside, it doesn't stop the bullet from ripping through your lower side, preoccupied and distracted yet again. You yell loudly, balking back into the door frame and hunching over as blood spurts out of you. Hesh’s head whips your way immediately, jaw going slack and a soul-deep hysteria takes over.

So now he pays attention.

“Shit, Harp!” So little time. 

Logan can’t take care of the last remaining Fed soldier by himself, and in a large act of self-sabotage, that very soldier just happened to have a missile launcher. 

The entire left engine explodes—the train jerks; everyone is sent in a back-and-forth motion, first hitting off the last train car before being sent right back through the engine room entirely. A transference of force gives you whiplash as your head bounces off the door frame. 

The world goes blurry, body hitting and slamming through layers of glass and pain before the control room is suddenly where you end up, using the body of a stunned guard as a cushion. 

There’s a second of muffled gunfire, struggling and yelling—and then it all comes back into focus like a sniper’s scope being correctly sighted. You gargle an expletive and shove the guard under you back down despite the searing heat in your side and head; struggling to unsheathe your combat knife as the world tilts. 

Hands push at your cheeks, grip at your neck futilely, but when you get the blade out and struggle the hands down once more, you hammer the point into his throat with a thump of your boot pressing for purchase on the floor. 

The man spasming, you push off of him and slam to the ground, coughing in great lung-shattering segments.

“You can’t win, Rorke!” Hesh’s voice brings you back from the swirling, and you hear your blood patter to the metal floor like rain.

“Shit,” you mutter, gasping for air. 

Gazing up you see Rorke holding Logan in a chokehold, free hand pointing a gun at Hesh. Your eyes bulged, trying to push onto your knees and reach for your weapon as you saw Hesh continually looking away from the target and worriedly watching you. His hands at his sides are loose, but when you lock eyes with him, they clench and shake. 

“It’s over—” He tries, but the loud gunshot bounces off the train’s enclosed space. You’re yelling before you can think, darting forward and leveling your gun right to Rorke’s head as Hesh’s form collapses to the ground.

Standing on unsteady feet, you pant and stumble, but the devil’s brown eyes hold you captive. Rorke smirks as you guard Hesh behind you. 

“Well, well, well, seems the girl’s just as promising as you, eh, Logan? She’s the other one who slipped her binds in Las Vegas.” He laughs. “Look at me, I’m surrounded by young talent.” 

“I don’t exactly care if you are or aren’t,” you growl, shuffling to keep Hesh even farther behind you as you instrumentally cough again. Your legs are wobbling. “Just that you put my fucking friend down.”

“You willing to die for him?” Rorke looks demented, with his scar and his intimidating build. Whatever torture he had been through to make him like this—a Ghost killer—it had worked perfectly. There was no coming back from this. He whistles lowly. “That’s some loyalty you have there.”

His mind was dead to all else.

You don’t hesitate in an answer, even as the man behind you grabs your leg, trying to move you with a wheezing breath.

“H-Harp,” his spine moves in a cough. “Don’t…please.”

“Always.” Interest alights in those dark, tiny eyes. Logan tries to give you messages with his gaze, but you ignore him. Ironic. “That’s not something I’ll break on. Unlike you.”

“Shit, Kid,” there’s a grand laugh, “now that’s heartless…but good,” Rorke glances at Hesh, raising a brow and chuckling. “I’ll love to see the look in his eyes when I—”

“Checkmate!”

“Checkmate confirmed.” You look down at Hesh and see him watching you, his gaze open and bare. 

“I’m sorry,” he gasps, but all you can do is watch. 

There’s no time to think.

“I love you,” you confess in a fleeting moment of bare nothingness, blurting it out. “I’ve loved you.”

Hesh’s body entirely halts, jaw slowly slackening in horror; something shifts behind his eyes but before he can open his mouth, a rageful bark bullies the smooth tone of his throat back.

“What did you do?!” Your form is bodied into the controls behind you, colliding as you snarl and are forced to recover. With a snap of your finger, you fire a shot into Rorke’s foot. 

He yells and whips his wrist back, slamming the butt of his gun into your temple. 

As the bridge ahead of the train explodes, Hesh drags himself to cover your body, muttering into your flesh words you cannot name as the darkness sets in.

“It’s over,” Hesh speaks grimly to Rorke, turning to look at him silently as he presses your head into his chest, sharing a nod and thin-lipped look with Logan still stuck in his arm. “It’s over.”

“Shit, Son…” The train gets thrown and broken in a wave of utter destruction and rebirth; and through it all, Hesh never lets go—not even when the water below comes up to meet you.

—

The beach’s sand is coarse, and it sticks to your gear with a fervent hold. To your skin, the paint, and blood, for the moment washed away as hands dragged you from the water, small puffs of breath and whimpers greeting you. 

“C’mon, Sweetheart.” Hesh. And he sounded frantic. “C’mon, open…open your eyes, dammit. Please, you just told me the best thing you possibly could. Please.” 

Water slips off your neck, and as you’re weakly lying back, propped against a rock, hands slip to your cheeks, moving the skin as a barely conscious body tries to make you wake up. 

A forehead hits against your shoulder, a deep groan of pain emanating from the man who grips at your gear.

“No, no, c’mon,” Hesh can barely keep himself sitting up, bloody and broken. Logan had to drag him from the water not seconds prior, and in turn, Hesh had grabbed what little strength was left and helped him get you. “Logan!” Green darts to brown, and the older brother pleads in a broken voice, “Help me!”

You bend your head forward and cough up blood and water, shoving Hesh away from you so you can collapse on your side and expel your stomach.

“Harp,” the man quickly mutters, dragging himself over and grabbing your shoulder to keep your face out of the sand. “Fuck, okay—it’s okay I’ve got you.”

“You,” your voice cuts out, and you shake as you gasp and sputter, “A-are a fucking idiot!” 

Hesh chuckles, and you feel his head hit off your arm, his struggling breath. “God, I know. I know, Sweetheart.” 

Logan crawls over to you, pushing you back against the rock and grappling for his medical pouch as Hesh patches into the comms. You grunt and look down at the younger brother, head swirling in colors and ears pounding with your pulse. 

“Merrick, do you copy? Merrick, come in.”

“Hesh! Hesh, is that you?” You weakly smirk at the shock and relief from the tone, letting your head tilt back as Logan hurriedly packs your gunshot wound with gauze. You wince and stare at the sky—blood infectiously tinging the sand below you. 

Hesh tries to help too, but you and the man are in far worse shape than Logan. The older brother’s shoulder leans into yours heavily, and you shift your eyes to the side as they flutter.

You haven't forgotten what you told him, what you confessed, but right now pushing back the black in the sides of your vision was more important.

And Rorke. What had happened to Rorke?

“Yeah,” Hesh watches you, face screwed with concern. “Yeah, I’m with Harp and Logan. We’re…we’re alive. Rough shape, but alive.”

“And Rorke?” You hold your breath.

“Dead.” Logan ties off a quick tourniquet and your spine tightens in agony, hissing out as your nerves spike with electricity. The brown-eyed man spares you a sorry glance but you shake your head in dismissal. “He’s dead.” 

Out in the water, the enemy warships are firing off missiles inland, some smoking and others already sinking. Merrick gives you the news as Hesh brings a hand up to your chin, tilting your head his way. You go willingly, skin on fire from the scrape of his gloves. 

Logan moves back, having done what he can, before he collapses back into the sand, panting with an arm over his stomach. His older brother’s forehead bumps into yours, eyes stuck. 

“Copy that. The Federation is in full retreat—the rest of the payload is inbound to finish the…”

Whatever else Merrick relays is lost and Hesh’s lips splay over yours, his nose letting out a long breath and body sagging, dead-weight. Cheeks hot and mind running, you let instinct take over and reciprocate, quick fingers pulling at his vest straps.

“Since when?” He asks, breathless when he moves back an inch. 

“After you introduced me to your first girlfriend, Cassie Albrook,” you smile, eyes crinkling. “Seventh grade. The one with the black hair? God, I was so jealous.” 

Hesh chuckles deeply, body jerking as he kisses you again, pulling back and holding your cheek in his hand. His eyes are wide and open.

“You mean to tell me, I could have been kissin’ you all the way back since seventh grade?” Your face moves with pure love, flesh going soft—even the pain diminishes somewhat. 

Merrick’s voice still gruffly moves down the line, and the last bits of his sentence are heard. 

“...Sit tight, Recon’s comin’ for ya.” Everything was looking up. 

Missiles slam into the Federation ships out in the water, the sudden burst of liquid and fire making Hesh briefly cover you with his side to protect you from the shockwave. When you turn to look, nothing but sinking metal remains. 

“I’m sorry,” Hesh tells you, and you don’t have the energy to pull away from his neck as you let your head rest—the thumping of your brain and the calming shadow of his form giving way to believe you had a concussion. 

“Hm,” you hum, letting him continue. His voice echoed in his breast.

“I…I’ve been an ass these past few days, weeks, I shouldn’t have said what I did—wanted to take it back as soon as I turned away from you.” You close your eyes and sigh long, sarcastic even now. 

“You owe me dinner and a movie, then I’ll see if I can forgive you.” Hesh chuckles, nose pressing down into your scalp. He kisses you there as water falls from his chin.

“Sounds like a plan, Doll.” The man lets himself rest, curled around you and waiting for the recon team as the sand and the water move. “I love you too…just so you know. Long time.”

Your failing mind lets off a scoff. But a happy one.

When you wake again, not remembering when you’d fallen asleep, it is to the sound of screaming. 

“Logan!” You jolt up and have to place a hand on your head to stop the pounding. Hesh is struggling to move, fighting to get to his younger brother who you turn as quickly as you’re able to face. “Logan!”

Your face voids of blood. 

Rorke is dragging the other man away, pushing him to the ground as Logan tries to fight like a dog on his back, with only one arm working properly. Growling, you try to stand—body falling and sliding right back down as Rorke kicks Logan’s combat blade from his hand, walking over to you and Hesh. 

He stands and pants, limping from your shot to his foot and a hand across his abdomen in obvious pain.

“Look what you did,” Rorke motions behind him to the still-falling missiles being disposed of from space into the ocean; atop the wreckage of what Rorke had been a part of. Falling to your side, you leave behind a raging Hesh who attempts to move and get to Rorke while you go to Logan. The devil wheezes and points from you to the boys, forcing a grunt of approval. “You’re good.”

Hesh is shoved back by a ruthless boot into the rock, and you snarl, coming over to Logan and his very broken arm as he weakly writhes on the ground. You place your body over his and bare your teeth as if a beast. 

“Rorke!” You bark. “It’s over! It’s done. Everything you’ve built is dead and recon is on its way for us…you’re finished.”

“Nothin’s finished, no,” Hesh tries to lunge again as Rorke’s body stumbles closer to you but falls into ragged coughs and stays on his side in utter agony. 

“Stay away from them!” The man you’d just confessed to hisses, hand grasping futilely at the sand. Green eyes run back and forth from you to Logan, desperate and breaking by the second. “Rorke! You son of a bitch!”

“Nothin’s ever finished.” Grabbing you by the scruff of your neck, you’re being tossed off Logan and thrown to the side in a cloud of sand, body screaming at you as you yell out loudly. 

Rorke bends a knee to look Logan in the eyes, shaking his head.

“You’d of been a hell of a Ghost.” Yelling, you wrench at the combat knife in your vest, set your feet, and tackle Rorke off of the Walker boy with a feral curse on your breath. 

“Get the fuck off of—” Your leg twists with a defining crack as you’re grappled and thrown off, only able to slice a nice long cut down his jaw and at the beginning of the man’s throat. 

Screaming you hear briefly Hesh’s rageful bellow, his calling of your name in high keens of helplessness. Promises of revenge and justice. 

Breath breaking as tears line the back of your eyes, Rorke comes over you and pins your dominant hand to the ground—you look up and grimace, trying to make your body function. 

Move!

Rorke laughs, great shoulders shaking with glee. He’s fucking demented as he continues his sentence from before your fruitless attack. 

“...But that’s not gonna happen, is it?” The man smiles and you struggle as Logan and Hesh rapidly try to assist. 

“Harp!”

“There ain’t gonna be any Ghosts.” Rorke’s eyes shift to Hesh, and you follow with a sense of dread and horror. The man’s mind had been made up when he turned back around, disregarding Logan entirely in favor of you and your ‘unbreakable’ loyalty. 

The joy it would bring him to destroy you and set you loose after such. Set you loose on Hesh. 

He leans in close to you, so you can feel his breath and his conviction. 

“We’re gonna destroy ‘em together.” 

“Harp!” You’re shoved back, knife grasped and ripped from your hand as your broken leg is grabbed and pressure is applied. 

You scream again, arms carding across the dunes as Rorke begins dragging you backward like a child holding onto a stuffed toy. Blown green eyes meet yours, Hesh reaching out and screaming at the top of his lungs for you. 

But he can’t move.

“Harp!” 

And you can’t feel your fingers. 

“I love you,” you whisper, perhaps for the last time and he sees your lips move. Hesh screams and slams his hand into the ground, Logan stumbling to his knees but immediately dropping back with a small cry. 

And Rorke chuckles.

—

You don’t know where he took you, but you do know the jungle floor is cold and wet, and the mud under your fingernails makes you feel gross. 

What you do know is that the earthen walls of the pit you are in are pointless to try to climb—the top is slatted with a covering of long sticks with wide square openings. You know it’s going to rain by the smell in your bloodied nostrils. 

You know that your leg is broken, your bullet wound is festering through the tourniquet, and your concussion is making you sleepy. 

In your head, you count these ‘knowns’ and sprinkle them like seeds as you stare blankly at the sky far above. Everything aches; hurts. When you breathe, it comes in and out with a wheeze. 

You know that Hesh loves you, and perhaps that’s the only fact you care about. Wherever he is, you’re glad he can’t see you like this. 

Rain patters against your head, the storm clouds finally rolling through. Leaves can be heard shuffling on their branches. You breathe in and out, rising and settling your lungs slowly. 

You can’t break—not like Rorke. 

No matter what he did to you, you can’t betray the Ghosts. Logan. Hesh.

Elias’s words echo as you curl into a tiny ball, shivering and whimpering as your wounds move and pull. 

...I’m proud of you. And I’m sure your folks would be too.

You know this game. Torture. They’ll pump you full of hallucinogens, starve you, beat you within an inch of your life; and through that you cannot give in.

But it’s easier said than done.

In the middle of the night, the top of the pit is pushed away and there are the voices of multiple people that dance above the rain storm. They jump down and in the state you are, there’s nothing you can do to stop them from hooking their arms under yours and hauling you up, limp and motionless. 

The words are in Spanish, and you still can make out some over the commotion and the way your hearing dips in and out. 

“Where do we inject….”

“...neck, I believe…arm could work too…”

“...nasty…was it? I heard…mix of drugs…Who knows?”

Your head is harshly yanked back, and the sharp pinch of a needle digs into your neck, the action making your good leg kick out in panic but there’s little you can do. 

A flood of thick fluid enters your veins and like sap seeping out of a tree some drops exit the wound and mix with the rain weighing down your clothes. They’d taken your gear, only your undershirt and cargo pants still clothing you. 

When they’re done, they let you drop back to the floor, where you flop and smash your face into the mud with a weak drag of your cheek along the sludge. With calls from above, a rope is tossed down and they all ascend. The top is clattered back over moments later. 

Laying still and groaning, teeth clenched, already you feel ten times more strange than before. 

“Ah,” you grasp at your head, which was bursting to begin with, as it gains a looseness to it—the mud below you shimmered with puddles, the chill got colder, and your clothes felt grating against your skin. “Not good. N-not good.” 

You pull at your shirt collar, coughing as your eyes bulge; your heart breaks itself as it immediately can be felt hammering into your ribcage far more sensitive than you’d ever experienced. It felt like your chest was going to rip open. 

Panicked sounds emanate from the back of your throat, fingers digging into your scalp as the drugs carry their venom through your blood. 

Your wounds blazed.

You start screaming, babbling for nothing, and pulling at your flesh, but the overhead striking of lightning leaves the desperation mute to all but the trees.

—

Hesh stares at you from the corner of the pit, but his eyes are not green. You watch, silent, barely moving, from where you curl into a tiny heap of bloodied flesh. You’d torn at your skin for days; time looped together with more injections and no food. Water you got from the sky.

They had offered soup, but you knew better even as you dug harsh lines into your neck. There were just more drugs in the broth. 

But Hesh. Hesh.

He wasn’t right—didn’t stand like him, or breathe like him; there was something off about his smirk as he watched you gaze at him in an addled stupor.

“Feelin’ good over there, Kid?” Not Hesh. Not. Hesh.

You’re panting, your body sweating profusely in the humidity and so, so hungry.

Not Hesh takes a step forward and his image tilts like the turning of a page with Rorke taking his place, but as soon as it happens it flips back on itself to your Love.

“N-not right,” you hurriedly whisper.

Not Hesh puts a hand to his ear, kneeling down in front of you. “What was that, now?” A long chuckle. His voice is…is…deeper. Your eyebrows flinch up and down. “Who do you see, Sweetheart?”

“Hesh,” you whimper out. “Hesh, what are you talking about? What’s going on? I…I feel like I’m…I’m twisted inside out.”

“Hesh, huh?” The man looks to the side, smiling. “Well, that’s better than I expected. This’ll be fun.”

“W-what—” A fist connects with your face and you get catapulted into the wall. Before anything else, your stomach is kicked, making your call of alarm get forced out as a gasp as your clotted bullet wound reopens in a great tear. A large hand grips you hard by the chin, snapping it forward to stare into those wrong eyes but the familiar face of Hesh. 

What was he doing to you?

“H…Hesh,” you can’t even stutter out his name before you break down into coughs and gagging; tears rolling down your cheeks, and blood and mud everywhere.

“Yeah, that’s right. You just keep lookin’ at me.” You dry heave and push at his hands, fingernails digging into his skin to create crescent moons. “Keep lookin’ at Hesh.”

—

It’s three months of the same, and you can’t go on anymore.

You lay in a near comatose state on the ground, flesh completely covered in mud and open wounds—maggots eat at your dead skin, wriggling deeper. Not having the heart to pick them out, or even move the few non-broken fingers you have, you lay in blank agony. Pain so deep you can’t scream or make a single noise. It would make it worse; it is making it worse. 

Breathing is becoming a chore.

“Is today going to be the day?! God, I sure hope so.” Hesh looks down from over the edge, fiddling with another syringe of drugs. “Enough blood down there to make a fuckin’ painting out of. Shit…You lasted longer than I thought, Kid.” You don’t look at him. At his dark, wrong, eyes. 

“I’m nearly impressed.” There’s a low chuckle and the crackling of branches. 

You close your eyes and try to think of a single kiss and green eyes, but the rest of the image is tainted to you. Your mind can’t call it forward without the corruption of the puppet ahead of you, this shifting specter of mist and smoke.

Memories that used to bring you comfort call to fear and spine-curling hurt. 

This couldn’t be Hesh, you told yourself for the millionth time, but…who else could it be? Your body was too broken to try and work through the hallucinations, to think or rationalize.

There’s a thump of boots and a grunt. Someone coming closer as birds speak far above. Singing. It's the first you can recall another living creature being this close to the smell of infected decay.

 “Now, now, let’s see that neck of yours.” You’re seized and pushed onto your back, head lulling and eyes fluttering. Hesh’s image shifts and bends into another, one you should be able to name but can’t quite recall. It’s hard to focus. “Just one more, and we can fix this. Together. No more Ghosts, huh? We’ll make it right.”

Birds songs. Birds and flying shadows. Rapid wing beats like an eagle or the pound of paws on the ground. 

There is an un-godly snarl and a call of rage. 

“Rorke!” The dark-eyed Hesh snaps his head away, his needle stilling in his grip only inches from your flesh. He’s grappled and ripped away, thrown up and slammed down into a full-body jerk of pure strength not a second later with a cry of shock. “Get the fuck off of her!” 

Shadows roll and wrestle, feral yowls like that of beasts bounce off your impaired hearing, mud stuck in your ears. You think your vision cuts out for a moment because the next there’s a different man gripping your shoulders, slightly shaking you back awake.

Blue eyes like the ocean. Your brow barely twitches in confusion. 

Keegan? 

“C’mon, that’s it. Right here.” A light is taken and directed right into your eye in the fading light. “You’re doin’ great, Harp. Just keep lookin’ at me.” 

The light passes over your blood-coated eyes and barely diolates. Keegan’s lips under his balaclava thin to an alarming degree. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, looking down at you before he darts his vision over to Hesh, the actual Hesh, who’s locked limbs with the former Ghost; fists to guts and primal anger. 

In his haste to get to you, Hesh had damned himself—he’d left no opening for any of the others to get a clean shot at Rorke. But no one could blame him, even if it was reckless; incredibly stupid. 

The man had been on your trail nearly every day since you’d been taken. Barely sleeping, eating little. A man possessed. 

The Ghosts had been half convinced something had taken over his image and scooped out his personality.

“Merrick,” Keegan patches into the secure line, looking back down at you. “Positive ID on HVT, three klicks West. Hesh has engaged—we found Harp.” 

There’s an instantaneous response, worried breath. “Solid copy…how’s she doing?”

“We need MedEvac immediately. She won’t last another night.” There’s a curse on the other end, a loud and quick call to the rest of his squad. 

“Copy! I’ll call it in!” Keegan tries to stabilize you as Hesh and Rorke rip each other to shreds, and Hesh, who had the upper hand in the beginning, is quickly losing it.

“Awe, look who tracked ‘er down!” Rorke snatches at Hesh’s collar and lays two jabs to his ribs—there’s a definitive crack as the younger man shouts in pain. “Young love! So fucking pointless.” 

“I’m going to rip you into pieces,” Hesh bares his teeth, eyes wild and unrestrained. For a moment Rorke looks taken aback by the utter conviction in his green gaze. “And make you choke on your own damn teeth! You hear me?!” 

Ripping away with a tear of fabric, Hesh bends low and tackles the former Ghost to the ground, splaying him out on his back before his fist is snapped back and brought down; again and again and again. 

“Hesh!” Keegan shouts, pressing deeply into your wounds and trying to give you fluids with one hand. “This fucking kid.” The Sergeant gives up, shaking his head. 

Trust had to be given, and Keegan knew that at this moment he had to trust Hesh to hold his own. He needed to keep you conscious. 

“Easy, Harp.” You can feel the cracks in your dry throat as the water seeps past them, and you cough up droplets before the blue-eyed Sergeant tilts your head and helps you. “Easy, Sweetheart.” 

Keegan doesn’t even want to look at your body as the brutal sounds of a fist on bone continue, clothes scuffling and gargled breaths—the savagery and barbarous remnants of mental and physical torture too much even for him. 

“Christ,” he hisses. 

You gulp down water slowly and let it fill your stomach like a brick. 

Hesh reduces Rorke’s face to a mess of flesh and busted bone, sweating and not even stopping as his knuckles split under his gloves or his fingers dislocated from their sockets. His eyes burn, his face goes red—he looks insane. 

He looks like a spirit of utter revenge. 

Only when Logan and Merrick drag him off the spasming body does he stop, but not after he tries like hell to fight out of that hold as well. Whipping around, he attempts to land a punch on Merrick before Logan is forced to put him in a restraint hold. 

Hesh’s cheek meets the mud, face being sunk into it as his right arm is twisted so far behind his back it nearly breaks. The older brother growls, free arm and legs moving—back sliding. 

“David!” Merrick barks at him, face pulled in a sneer, enraged at the man’s lack of sense. “Shut this shit down. Look at her, dammit!” Logan gets bucked off, but the youngest Walker boy has enough sense to wrestle him back down and grab onto his chin; forcing those green eyes to lock on you and Keegan. 

The second he sees you, he entirely freezes.

Merrick sighs out harshly, jogging over to you and already checking in with the MedEvac that Kick’s flying in. There would be no resistance—all the other hostiles were dead. 

“Jesus Christ,” the Commander breathes, kneeling by you instantly and studying your body. 

Hesh’s reaction is slower, but the spread of vile tears burns the back of his eyes. Logan lets him go at seeing this, standing and holding out a hand, but the brunette stays on the ground a moment longer; utterly still. 

Hesh’s mouth opens and closes. 

All at once he’s rushing over and limping up at your side as Merrick grabs more medical supplies from his packs to help you. 

“Oh my God,” Hesh breathes, and Keegan sends him a glance. You’d drank all of the water. “Harp, hey, you’re going to be okay—it’s gonna be alright, you hear? I’m right here, Logan and I are gonna get you home. Back to California, okay? Riley’s waitin’ for you, Doll.”

You flinch at that voice, and Merrick looks sharply at the blue-eyed Sergeant. Their eyes lock, holding for a long moment. Logan’s brows tighten in confusion. 

The brunette seems not to notice it at all, hands finding your cheek before Merrick can give him a warning. Your eyes slowly shift to him before they peel back with fear.

Hesh’s vision goes glossy, clenching his jaw. “Shit, what did he do to you—”

“Hesh!” 

You yell and yerk back, shoving the man off of you with a fear-filled sob. 

“No!” Keegan and Merrick grapple to keep you down, not wanting to aggravate your wounds as Hesh falls to his ass, hands slapping behind him before he hisses and brings them back up. He blinks quickly in confusion and panic.

Logan rushes over and hides him from your view, beginning to understand what was going on. 

“No!” You call again, Keegan having to hold your head into his chest to hide you away. Merrick yells down his comms to hurry the Helo up, and that he doesn’t care about anything else. “No,” your voice gargles off as you sob into Keegan. “Please, no more.”

“Shh,” the Sergeant mutters, looking over his shoulder at a pale and shaking Hesh. “Nothin’s going to happen to you. Not anymore.” 

“Harp,” Hesh whispers, jaw slackened. “I…I don’t…”

“Hallucinogens,” Merrick says grimly, watching you shake and wail. Logan has to look away, his fists clenching. “Who knows what she’s seen. Reckon it wasn’t anything good.”

It’s like he doesn’t hear anything besides your cries. Whenever you gasp Hesh tenses as if he wants to run to you—comfort you the best way he knows how. 

Hallucinogens? He thinks and feels tears dribble down his cheeks as he blinks, rubbing at his jaw and shakily placing a hand over the back of his neck. Logan puts a heavy grip on his shoulder, weighing them down even more.

—

Rorke’s death should have been a time of celebration—of honoring the fallen. Elias Walker, Ajax, and countless others. The Federation was nothing more than broken factions now. Dust to the wind. 

But no one can celebrate when they’re trying to fix one of their own.

You were being kept in the secure medical ward under twenty-four-hour surveillance and around-the-clock care; only Keegan was allowed in, seeing as you were the closest to him outside of Logan and Hesh and had no adverse effects to his presence. 

Merrick had said he didn’t want to risk Logan going in, as it might worsen things. Hesh was taking it hard. 

He just got you back, how was this right? How was it fair that you’d had to go through that right when it was supposed to be over and done with? The man got sick over it, thinking about what Rorke had done to…break your mind like he had. 

Two months. 

Two months of nightmares plaguing him, of your eyes when you looked at him. If Hesh had just been stronger, then that bastard would never have dragged you away on that beach. He resulted in working out more, running laps around Fort Santa Monica with Riley at three in the morning—he grew bags under his eyes. He grew quiet. 

When all of his broken ribs and fingers healed, the artificial wounds, he was offered awards for taking down Rorke; even a summon by the President. 

He’d denied all of them. 

If a medal was going to get you better faster, he’d have taken them in an instant. But he wasn’t that stupid. Hesh was withering, and everyone saw it. He loved you more than anything—more than fame or recognition. The man lay awake at night fearing that you were too cold or uncomfortable in the far-off ward, he was paranoid about your safety. 

More often than not, the nurses found him and Riley fitfully sleeping outside of your door on the hard ground, arm used as a pillow. They didn’t have the heart to move him.

In the last two weeks before the third month of your isolation and evaluations, in his nighttime routine, Hesh finds your door open. 

He stares at it now with a blank expression, fatigue once burning his eyes all gone for a deep and pounding panic. With a hand gesture, Riley halts and sits, and, sensing his handler’s mood, lets his ears go straight up in attention. 

Hesh reaches for the gun in the back of his pants, peeling it out slowly and taking a nearly silent step forward. Ready, his ears strain for a sound…but there is none. 

His free hand reaches for the door, the short sleeves of his gray sleep-shirt bunching. A moment later, he lightly taps the barrier farther out before entering the room with the gun drawn.

He said he wouldn’t get distracted, but it would be a lie to say his eyes didn’t immediately go to you. 

You were there, asleep, curled up on the far recliner chair instead of the bed. Head lulled to the side and knees kept close to your chest. But it was the scars that broke Hesh.

They were large and long—on your face and arms; legs. All moving and stretching like a child’s drawing up your sleep shorts and shirt, disappearing only to reappear somewhere else. Healed over but still fresh.

Hesh drops the gun and turns his body slightly away, staring at the side wall before he takes an unsteady breath. He re-hides his weapon and turns to leave, not seeing anyone else.

Maybe Keegan had forgotten to close the door…he’d have to chew him out for that. Already a dull point of anger was making his jaw clench at the sly older man.

“Bastard,” Hesh mutters.

Before he can exit and close the door softly behind him, he hears a broken squeak of alarm. He halts as you stare heavily into his back—awoken by the sound of nearly silent feet. In a steady motion, the man’s hands are by his sides, open and visibly holding nothing. 

“I was just leaving,” Hesh whispers, not looking at you. His heart hammers. “I’m sorry, I thought someone else was in here—the door was open, okay?” 

Your hands twitch, body still and breath held tight.

“Hesh?” He flinches, eyes closed tight. 

Don’t look at her. Don’t turn around. Leave.

“Are you really…him?” You ask silently, eyes darting nervously around the room and quickly waking up fully. 

It’s a moment before he answers you. 

“Yeah,” he forces out, voice tiny and sad. “Yeah, it’s me, Doll. Just David Walker.” 

Your throat bobs with a thin swallow. Treatment was still ongoing, but it’s not every day you wake up to find the man who you had nightmares about standing in your room. 

Breathe, you have to remind yourself. It was the drugs. Not Hesh. Never Hesh. Rorke.

But you were still scared. 

“I…I need to see your eyes,” you say. 

Hesh turns carefully, staring hard at the floor. His heart lurches, hands going clammy. 

What if she has a setback? He asks himself. What if I mess this up…Shit, Hesh, you couldn’t have minded your own business?

Oh, but he never could when it came to you. 

“Then look at me, Sweetheart.” The man breathes slowly, darting his eyes up to your face. “They only belong to you.”

But your gaze can’t slip to his sockets, only able to glare fearfully into his neck. But this Hesh felt different, more like the one you grew up with—those memories still coming back but tainted; you need to see green, but it was hurting you to think that you might not.

“I’m scared,” you admit, shakily. The man’s thighs tense, but he stops himself before he can go and take you into his arms. That wouldn’t help. “I’m…I don’t know what’s real anymore.”

“I’m real. I swear to you, Harp, I’m real. I’m right here and I’ll wait for you as long as it takes. Even if it’s years, I will always be right here.” He pleads, hands still at his sides and going nowhere if you don’t tell him to. It’s like a floodgate opens, months of internal pain and heartbreak spilling out. You needed to know this, even if he never got to see you again. 

“I have loved you since I saw you get jealous over Cassie Albrook in seventh grade and tried to hide it because you thought she made me happy—she could never make me happy, Harp. That was you. That was always and will always be you. I…I can’t breathe when you’re not near me, I don’t know how to act right when you’re hurt. Seeing you hurting is…is…” Hesh’s voice breaks and he falls silent. 

“Please, if you need to look into my eyes, I’m beggin’ you, Sweetheart, please, do it. Even if it’s only one glance.” Your breath is stuck in your throat, tears welling and sliding down your cheeks. 

In your skull your brain pounds, bordering on hysteria and an urge to flee. There was so little that you trusted anymore. Keegan, yes—the nurses and doctors? You had no choice there. 

You knew that the Hesh you’d seen in the pit was Rorke, Keegan had explained it all to you after the drugs had been pumped from your system; you understood that part. But it didn’t make the sickening confusion any better.

Symptoms of severe PTSD, paranoia, anxiety—you’d seen the charts when the nurses thought you weren’t looking at them. 

You still wouldn’t let anyone with a needle anywhere close to you, had to be put under for it. 

But you’d been so lonely here. A simple kiss seared into your mind before the horror set in, a stain of a smile on your lips. A chest vibrating with a content purr. 

Hesh. You want your Hesh back. 

Taking a stuttering breath, your eyes dart upwards. You push through your misty gaze and lock on a color that can only be described as a grassy field of verdant growth. Great open plains of viridescent being—showing you a world bathed in tender belonging. 

Home. 

You sob and rush from the chair on legs that still hurt even now, meeting Hesh in the middle as he takes a step forward and wraps his arms around you. You’re covered and kept in a hold so tight it’s like he’ll never let you go, heart pounding and his face loose with shock.

But he says nothing beyond a loud shuttered exhale of relief, pressing you to his chest and burying his face into your scalp, breathing you in; taking you down like a sinner in church until all that remains is you. Your fingers digging into his shirt, your face in his neck, how you call his name as if calling a ghost back from the dead.

“Oh, my Girl.” Hesh chuckles through the tears in his eyes. “My Girl. I missed you so much, you won’t even believe it.” 

You push yourself into him tighter. 

Riley, at some point, had come to stand in the doorway, his dark beady eyes seeing only the colors in gray, brown, yellow, and blue, though that never truly mattered. Color was only half of the picture. 

And the rest of the image in front of him was seeped with the pigment of love. 

The dog’s tongue lulls from the side of his mouth, and in the air behind him, his tail moves back and forth into a soft arch.

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[flutterrker]

Wield pet pt1

(f) Shark hybrid reader x Owner Izuku midoriya

Not my art

Warning: mentions abuse, Trafficking, fitting ring, Sexual assault, injury, Euphonizing, death, mentions corpses, broken leg, dehydration Arters note: my English is bad but I will try to fix it

It was a Nics day Todoroki and Deku were out patrolling the streets they hadn't been wakening long since they had just come from a meeting not too long ago but what was disgust in that meeting had Deku deep in thought about the report Bakugo had about the hybrid fitting ring he Bustad not too long ago and how most of those hybrids were going to be put down because they were too aggressive to keep and that some people involve in the incident had escaped Deku only snapped out of it when he felt a hand on his soldier looking over at Todoroki he sow his worried expression Deku smile at him to reassure him that he was ok but he know it wouldn't hold him for long he needed a distraction "hey I think we can go take our lance Break now oh and we are pretty close to this cafe I like "he says to Todoroki how just nods and follow him to the cafe

They get there Eventually and get Seated at a boof in the far corner as they settle in Todoroki looks at Deku and starts to speak "Is something bordering you, you look upset" Deku shakes his head no but before he can get a word out his phone rings picking up the phone he sow a number he didn't rcognize and pressing the Answer button and pots it Against his ear to listens "good morning am I Speaking to Mister Midoriya" a sweet voice asked him he Post for a moment before Answering " yes this is hem" " Great I'm calling from the hybrid shelter about you applying to Adopt a hybrid and I'm proud to Anons that it has been Approved " " oh ok when can I come and take a look " he asked in an Excitedly " later today if you want but if not we ca- " he cut her off before she could finish speaking "No! Today is good I'll come over later today " cringed at how Awkward he was being "Well that great to hear Such enthusiasm from a Potential hybrid owner then we will see you later today Mister Midoriya " "Yes Thank you so much see You guys soon," he says Practically jumping out of his seat " see you soon " Izuku ends the call unaware that Todoroki was watching him closely " exciting news I assume, " Todoroki asked Curiosity getting the better of him Izuku nods " I Applied to a hybrid Adoption Agency to see if I can get a hybrid " "hmm why not just get a normal animal like a cat or dog I hear hybrid are High maintenance pets and need a lot of attention,"

Izuku nods "Well To be honest, I never wanted to own a hybrid but I've been thinking about it for a well now, and after today's meeting it steels it for me I never even realized how badly they were treated by humans after the hybrid fitting ring was taken out all of those Innocent hybrids that were caught and sent to the hybrid shelter are all Scheduled to be euthanized, " " I heard about that on the news too it's terrible they are Punishing the hybrid that only follows their master's orders " Izuku nods and looks Todoroki in the eyes "Yeah they say the reason is that they are so aggressive that they can't even get close enough to train them "It was silent for a moment before Izuku spoke again "So I've decided that even if it is just one that can be rescued from the system it's at least one step into the right direction and it might inspire other people to adopt a hybrid as well and bring Awareness to the dangers of hybrid trafficking, " Izuku says with a small smile

Todoroki smiled and was reminded of how kind Izuku was but Izuku has always been a kind person and it made Todoroki proud to call Izuku his friend no matter what happened to him, he had always seen the best in all people no matter what "If you don't mind me asking could I come with you I would like to see the tip of hybrid you might Choose" Todoroki asked Izuku smiled back and nodded " yeah! I don't mind and we can Catch up on things" " I would like that " he said smelling "but I think if I do find a hybrid and adopt I'm going to take some time off to spend with it you know like bonding or getting to know One another but for now let's eat up and get back to work the faster we get this done the faster we can go yeah " Izuku says as Todoroki nods Agree

One patrol and a few Pity crimes take down later and Izuku and Todoroki are at the front gate of the hybrid Adoption center they park the car near the building and are Greeted at the glass doors by a woman wearing a uniform " Greetings Mister Midoriya and Mister Todoroki I have been waiting for you my name is Mary willow I'm the Director of the pup cup Adoption and rescue facilities hope you didn't have any trouble getting her " " No not atoll Was it you that I was speaking to earlier " Izuku asked she nods " yes it was and I must say it is a pleaser to meet you bout and we have a lot of new friends that would love to meet you so let's get this meet and greet started sheal we follow me please " she said smiles and Tuning around Leading them inside and in the directions of the kennels

They walked around looking at all the hybrids from bunnies to Birds but noticed that most if not all of the hybrids were pups and not Fully grown hybrids like Izuku hoped the Director noticed that nothing whose Catches he's eye so she Derek's theme to the Exotic hybrids Wing of the building there they see tigers, lepers, fish and some reptiles that are Unfortunately all still pups that is until they get to the last kennel" well that's everyone if you need a Minet to decide I can live and come back or you can just find me at the front desk " "what about that last one " he asked walking towards it "oh that one " she side looking inside he sow a shark hybrid that is fully grown has a muzzle on and looks to be in bad shape with all the Scratches and bruises they can see it looked like you had gotten into a bad faith

As Izuku got close he heard the Director speak " And that is y/n she is not up for adoption " She said Izuku frowned in confusion and looked back at her but before he could ask why she specked first "That one is from the fitting ring and is Scheduled to be euthanized "he stopped and looked at her for a minute and started speaking "When will they euthanize her" "Tomorrow Though it is a real shame to see because it is not her fault she's like this it is the people's fault for putting her through that trauma and Yet the hybrids pay the price " she said looking at the hybrid in the cage with a sad expression "we'll if that is all I will leave you to it to decide what lucky hybrids get to leave and live with the number one hero in Japan com find me at the front desk when you're ready but in the meantime feel free to look around I'm sure you'll find something" she says before turning around and walking away living Izuku and Todoroki allows to Stew in their Foughts

"Midoriya what hybrid are you going to take " Todoroki asked Izuku shrugged his soldier still looking at you in the kennels Trying to get your attention but nothing was working not kissing noises not calling your Name and not Throwing small rocks near you. you just sit there looking at the floor that is until Todoroki opens his water bottle the sound made you move your eyes for just a split second, but Izuku noticed it " hey, are you thirsty you want some water? " he asked and saw you were slowly looking in his Derkson he noticed the other side of your face had a Giant bruise he also noted how every time you moved you may a Pained experience it was subtle but it was there and he noticed it as he takes out his water bottle and sprinkles some water out on the floor to show you it was water it took you a Minet to start moving slowly standing up and walk as Beast as you could to them pouting more pressure on one Leg to avoid pouting pressure on your rite foot when you got closer to them you slid down the Bars to sat on your legs wincing in pain slowly you stuck your hand hesitantly throw the Bars of the cage to Reach for the bottle Izuku was holding for you, you look so wired it was like you were expecting him to do something but sow the relief in your eyes when he handing it to you slowly to not spook you took it and broth it up to your mouth to drink but instead of poring it into your mouth you stuck out your tongue

lapping at the water with your long tongue drinking it quickly Izuku watch you for a while seeing how matted your hair was and how dirty and tired you look at least you weren't skin and bones but Stull to skinny for his liking

Izuku sat there for a mined or two before standing up and started walking to the reception disk Todoroki followed Behind him Quietly wanting to see what happened next as they approached the waiting room Izuku saw the Director working at the front desk walking up to her Izuku said in an emotionless town

" I want the shark hybrid " " No" " please I'll pay extra " " I said no Mister Midoriya " "Why -" " Because Mister Midoriya she is not for sale " " so instead of letting her find a proper family to adopt her you would rather let them put her down " he said in Ange " No that is not the reason Mister midor- " " then what is " she sighs and says in a calm voice" Mister Midoriya I don't want to put her down but she is too dangerous to freely walk around and the people from the hybrid fitting ring are still out there looking for the hybrid they trained and she is the last one that needs to be euthanized I don't want to do this to her either but I don't want her to suffer Anymore" he was quiet for a minute thinking of a way to convince her he could not only keep you safe and have the Schell to train you "What are you saying that the number one hero can't protect one single hybrid " Todoroki Piped up "No that's not what I meant -" "Please I just can sit here and do nothing I'm a hero and I believe I can provide a safe investment for her to live in Maybe if she doesn't feel so frightened she'll be easier to train and less Aggravated and aggressive" she looked at the two men utterly defeated before sighing and handing him the adoption paperwork " I'm not doing this for you I'm doing it for her she deserves to be happy too and to Experience a loving family as well," she said in a sad tone of voice " go take a seat Mister Midoriya and when you're done I'll Brief you on her history " Midoriya nods feeling tears in his eyes but Wipes them away

Once the paperwork is done he walks back up to her and hands her the paperwork she Pages true it and nods " Mister Todoroki please Stay here in the waiting room well I brief Mister Midoriya on his new partner " Todoroki nods and takes a set and pools out his phone to pass the time" This way Mister Midoriya " he followed her to a small room with a Disc and two chairs" please take a seat Mister Midoriya " he sits in the chair across from her she hands him a folder White your name on it he opens the document in it he reeds

Name: Y/n

Tip of hybrid: hybrid shark Mix between a thresher shark and bull shark

Temperament: (bad) Aggressive to humans, hybrids, and animals

Class: Aquatic

How common the species is : Rare

Age: estimated to be 20

Sex: female

Facilities: pup cup Adoption and rescue facilities

Date of arrival: 2027/6/18

Previous owner: unknown

Note from therapist: we sent in a hybrid Specialist to see if we could Sedate her to Administer First-aid to her wounds but were Unsuccessful as she refused to calm down enough to give it to her, I concluded that she is deathly afraid of being pinned down

Injury report: due to her having a muzzle on she has Resorted to slamming her whole body into the staff to pin them between her and the walls she Injured a few staff members and broke several staff members' ribs and arms by slamming them as hard as possible can against the wall

Note from hybrid Specialist: we tried to feed her to see if she would let us get close to At least check her eyes for Enya's signs of blindness safe to say she is not going blind we Took off the muzzle To give her some food but were shocked at the Violent Reaction she had to human snarling and hissing but not outright attacking the is until a staff member got to close for her liking

Injury report: when the muzzle was Removed, we gave her a bowl of fruits she Ignores it and kept sleeping until we went to Replace the bowl, and she Launched forward and bit down onto Mister Kenneth's hand and Thor his point finger middle finger and fume off

he was rushed to the hospital to receive medical attention they Informed us they could not re-attached the fingers he reserved 20 Stitches

Police report: she was Found in a Flooded basement and Changed to the floor with at least 9 hybrids and 3 human corpses in the water she was Sedated and pulled out but a few minutes later woke up and started attacking the offices we Tried to subdue her but in the struggle she killing 2 men in the process we opened five 5 rounds 3 Connected 6 more were fired before Red Riot and Dynamite Showed up and Pin her down muzzled her and Administering a larger Those of tranquilizer she was then Transportation to the Nearest hybrid VT

Medical report: since of Physical and Sexual abuse

Bullets were removed from the Shoulder, stomach, and thigh she also had three broken ribs one broken leg torn muscles, a Fraction ligament, a nasty infection in her Gills located on either side of her chest under the arms what seems to be lashes made from Being whipped by Metal Wire as well as Multiple cuts made by a Knife a yeast infection swelling and redness to her Genetics an upsetting amount of bruising on her arms, legs, stomach, chest, neck, and back

Note for doctors:we tried to give her medical attention but came no fader than treating her scraps and stitching up her cuts

Note: is Scheduled to be euthanized on 29 August 2027

Izuku closed the Document and was quiet for a minute Thinking how someone could do all those things to someone and not care how you're hurting them " Do you still want her it ok to back out it is a big commitment to own a hybrid " Izuku was drag back to Reality when she asks him that question "Yes I still want her" She smiled and nodded "Well if you have your heart set on her I'll need you to sign These documents here, here, and here and I'll come in a year to do a wellness check "she said smiles Izuku nodded and read the Terms of conditions before sighing she smiled a little bit more knowing you'll go to a good home "and we are done here is your free Complimentary harness and Leash and I'm obligated to tell you when walking her in public she has too keep her muzzle on atoll time except on private property now let's see if we can get her out of her kennel " " what before we do that I have a Question if she is too Aggressive to be near people how do I get the Medicine she needs " she stopped and smiled at him " I'll make an appointment with a friend of mine to come to you he Specializes in hybrid medicine and marine life as well he can take a look at her Broken bones for you too"

They walked out of the room and back in the direction of where your kennels was when they got there, they saw you sleeping in front of the gate on the floor the Director handed Izuku a blanket to wrap you in she slowly moved to the door, and unlocked it so Izuku could enter

As he Crouched down to pick you up you flinch from his soft Touch, he stopped for a moment waiting for you to relax you Stirred a bit before going back to sleep Izuku Gentle picked you up and wrapped the blanket around you snuggle to keep you from Kicking and keep you warm

Izuku Adjusted his arms to hold you more Comfortably before walking back out of the kennel with you now sleeping comfortably in his arms head on his soldier hands under your knees and the small of your back Izuku felt confident enough to move with you in his arms without waking you up

Walk to the waiting room Izuku Spotted Todoroki and walked up to him holding you Close to his chest Todoroki smiled at him and stood up to greet him and see what hybrid he got "You got the hybrid you want " he asked Izuku nodded "I just couldn't leave her here oh that reminds me could you drive me home my hands are Kind of full at the moment "Izuku asked with a Bright smile and a Smole blush on his cheeks "Why don't you just put her down " he asked confused why Izuku Couldn't drive "I'm Scared of waking her up "he nodded "ok I'll drive "

" om my God I don't even realize how long we've been in there for, "Izuku says Todoroki nods "It did take a while," Todoroki said well opening the door for Izuku to get in Carefully to not wake you up as he sits in the passenger seat Todoroki Buckles his seat belt for him as izuku waiting for Todoroki to come around the car to the driver's seat Izuku looks down at you and thinks to himself (I don't have a room ready for her I'm going to have to leave her alone for an Hour or two so I can find a nesting bed for her and close oh God look at that hear it's all matted I'll have to as my mom for some Atvi's abbot hear and get you medicine I'll need to study up on the species if I want to properly take care of her ) " Midoriya you babbling again "Izuku stopped and looked at him and then out the window (when did we start diving and when did we get so close to my house) ' Izuku thinks to Himself sighs in frustration when they pool into the driveway Todoroki got out first to open the door for Izuku

Finally getting to the door, Izuku held you in one hand and pulled out his house. Keys opened the door and walked in to the house he went right to the guest room and pulled out a futon for you to sleep in for now until he could get a proper nesting bed for you

He Laid you down Gently and covered you with the blanket "Your safe now sleep tight we have a long day tomorrow " said Izuku before walking out and meeting with Todoroki taking him for coming over and helping bring you back they said their goodbye close the door as the lock Kicked Izuku slid down the door and sighs in Exhaustion he just sat there for a minute or two before getting up sitting at a disk and doing some research on shark hybrid apparently when they side you were rare they meant rare as in there were only five ever record in Japan in the US there where ten in existents but udder then that there wasn't much to go off of (guess I'm staying up late tonight)

12:51 pm

Slowly he began to drift off to sleep straggling to continue reading the article he found bobbing his head to Stay upright his eyes closed for what felt like a minute but was more like an Hour before he was out like a Light, he slept on his desk that night face planned in a book snoring Lightly

Tomorrow will be better

[forgedroyalseal]

Life a bit to the left

(Psst, check my pinned post to start from the beginning)

Chapter thirteen:

The moment Will saw the three Battleschool students approaching him, he knew he was in trouble. Their arrogance dripped off their scarlet jackets as they called out to him.

“We’ve got a message from the Battleschool for you.” One of them said.

The pack closed in on Will, and he felt his heart thudding in his chest. He was used to unfair fights, but he wasn’t used to being outnumbered. He wasn’t sure what the boys were here for, but he couldn���t imagine they were just here for a chat.

“It’s about the boar hunt.” Another added.

Will shrugged, “Wasn’t much to it. The gossip’s being blown way out of proportion. I was hardly involved.”

“Obviously.” The third boy sneered as he took in Will stature. Will shifted and felt his back straighten. He knew his height wasn’t impressive, and despite Halt’s best efforts over these past few months, a lifetime of malnourishment left him thin, with his joints jutting out at odd angles. The boy continued, “But when you go running your mouth about rescuing a clumsy Battleschool apprentice, you make all of us look bad.”

Will shook his head. “You’ve got bad information. I haven’t said a word about the whole affair. I don’t talk to anyone.” His defense was broken off by one of them moving to grab him, a sack in hand.

Every muscle in Will’s body had been on high alert since the trio had appeared, so when he caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, he didn’t hesitate to dive forward, rolling away from his attacker. He wrestled with the boys, his fight or flight instincts taking control of his actions. The Battleschool boys had no doubt expected an easy fight. After all, it was three against one, and all over them had at least four inches and fifty pounds on Will. But these boys were softened by their upbringing. Will could tell by the way they fought they were not used to being the underdogs. They weren’t used to having to literally fight off an opponent more than twice their size just to survive. These boys were being trained for battle, but Will had been living in one since he could walk.

A lifetime of fighting didn’t take the pain out of their hits, but Will was fast and managed to dodge their fists and canes more often than not. A well aimed strike across his shoulders, however, brought Will to the ground, a cry breaking through his clenched teeth. He watched as another cane was raised and he knew he wasn’t in a position to move out if it’s way. He braced himself, retreating into the depths of his mind the same way he would when his dad flew off the handle and wouldn’t stop after the first few hits.

But the blow never came. Blinking up, he saw a battered Horace coming towards them, wooden practice sword in hand. The group of boys taunted Horace as they circled him. They reminded Will of a pack of wild dogs, barking and nipping at their prey before they pounced. But before the students could raise their canes to strike Horace, a pair of arrows shot out in quick succession. Two of the boys dropped their sticks at the impact. They looked up with fearful eyes at the armed ranger standing before them. They took several hurried steps back.

“This is hardly a fair fight boys.” Halt nocked another arrow.

The remaining boy set his jaw and said, “This is Battleschool business ranger. You better stay out of it.”

From the ground, Will let out a silent chuckle. The movement rattled his sore ribs, but he couldn’t help but be amused at the would-be knight’s egotism. Will rose to his feet with a soft groan. He could feel the bruises forming on his body and his shoulders ached something awful, but he pushed the pain aside, locking it away for the moment. Taking his first look at Halt’s stony face, Will nearly felt sorry for the boy. But the pain in his back reminded him that the boy had brought whatever punishment he got onto himself.

“Battleschool business?” Halt gestured to Will with his bow, “That’s a ranger’s apprentice you lot just attacked. So I think it’s fair to say this is ranger business.”

The boy shrugged, “Make it your business then.”

Halt nodded and tossed his bow aside, distracting the boy. Will watched as Halt instantly overtook the boy, bringing his boot into his foot and then driving his elbow into his face. Tilting the boy’s injured face upwards with the point of his knife, Halt growled, “Never speak to me like that again. And don’t you dare ever lay a hand on my apprentice again. Do I make myself clear?”

The boy shook and Halt pressed the blade closer until a bead of blood swelled and trickled down his throat. “I said, do I make myself clear?” Halt repeated.

“Yes sir.” He stuttered out.

Halt retracted the knife and stepped away. The boy crumpled into the kicked up snow, cradling his injuries.

Will watched from the sidelines as Halt set a match between Horace and one of the other Battleschool students. Will was impressed by Horace’s skill, but something curdled in his stomach as he watched Halt encourage him to continue fighting, even after he disarmed his opponent. Will pushed back the feeling. He had been raised by cruel, unprovoked violence. This fight shouldn’t unnerve him. It wasn’t senseless, it was justice. His reaction to the fighting disappointed himself. If he was to be a ranger, he couldn’t let himself be affected by violence like this. So when he noticed the last of the students trying to sneak off, Will raised his bow and did his best to imitate Halt’s steely voice.

“Any further and I’ll put an arrow through you.”

Halt nodded his approval, “Aim for the calf. It hurts like hell.” Looking over at the final attacker Halt said, “Your turn boy.”

“That’s not fair!” The boy whined. At this, even Will rolled his eyes. Had these boys seriously been raised with so much privilege that they expected things to be fair? They hadn’t seemed concerned with what was fair when they had attacked him.

Halt responded to the protests with a similar sentiment.

Horace took his stance and the two Battle apprentices began to brawl. This boy proved to be as much of a challenge as his classmate and soon enough, Horace had sent him sprawling to the ground.

Halt nodded and threw a cane at the first boy, who still was nursing his wounded leg. Despite the boy’s pleas, Halt made it clear that he had no sympathy for the student.

This trainee was clearly the most skilled out of all of them, but he was still no match for Horace’s undeniable talent. With a final blow, the boy fell unconscious into the snow.

Horace shook out his aching and bruised hand, just as Will had seen his father do many times after beating Will into a bloody mess.

“That felt better than you could know. Thank you ranger.”

Halt nodded his approval. “Thank you for stepping up when they attacked Will. And call me Halt.”

Will watched as they clasped hands, and wondered what the two of them would think of Will if they knew just how much the whole event had shaken him. If they knew that his heart was racing and his hands were still shaking. If they knew that it wasn’t just the Battleschool apprentices that had scared him. Would they still keep him around? Or would they toss him aside like the coward he knew he was?

[genuineformality]

My family has a new dog we adopted from a shelter just over three weeks ago.

Everything the shelter told us about this dog has been inaccurate, which is not uncommon with shelter rescues, because even the best shelters are working with traumatized animals and incomplete information. However, the sheer depth and breadth of the inaccuracies is breathtaking.

We thought we were adopting a two year old dog with some fear of people, but is good with other dogs. She was reportedly good in a crate and was unreliably housetrained.

What we have is an approximately one year old puppy who has terrible dog manners (for the love of god, please don’t jump on other dogs’ heads), loves people, and has catastrophic levels of separation anxiety. She finds the crate very alarming and has had exactly one accident inside the house, which was our fault - we were still working on learning how she was communicating a need to go out.

None of negatives are deal breakers (and the problems we were anticipating have turned out to be non-issues) and one of my live-in partners and I both have difficult dog experience, so we’re managing it all with aplomb. But Hooboy, this is not the second dog experience we were looking for.

The house has been transformed into a complex system of pet gates and we’ve created airlocks and zones while we work on integrating the dogs. The new dog can’t be left alone for more than a few minutes while we work on building trust that we’re always coming back for her, which has meant retooling a lot of aspects of our lives very, very rapidly.

She is both an adolescent dog and very smart, so she learns fast, which is both a blessing and a curse. Our resident dog is the approximate shape, color, and intelligence level of a potato, so we’re out of practice working with smart dogs and we’re doing everything we can to train the things we want and not accidentally train the things we don’t. We’re taking ourselves to doggie bootcamp and also engaging a trainer while I consider which dog sport I am most likely to enjoy, because unless she settles significantly, I’m probably taking up a new hobby whether I want to or not.

Anyway. Meet Lovelace.

[heaven-s-black-box]

Luck- Wash x Fem!Ex-Freelancer!Reader

Return to File

Recovery date: January 8th, 2025

Description: Hiya!!! When I saw your requests were open I just had to as for a Agent Washington from RvB(could be a short scenario or a full fic) because out of the very few writers put there for him I think that you are by far the best!!

Notes: CW Reader is vaguely implied to be suicidal (not wearing her armor in a war zone) This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contribution. Went for a different route with my freelancer reader this time, she defected with Tex instead of being sent to Blood Gultch.

Word count: 1 181

Back to directory

Y/n pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out a long and tired sighed.

She was standing in a doorway of… it didn’t really matter. Nothing really mattered to her in this moment. Not the concerned and questioning stares of the New Republic soldiers as she walked around without her armor, not the strategic questions Kimball bombarded her with, and certainly not the dog pile in front of her.

Griff seemed to be on the bottom, she’s pretty sure she sees his armor peeking out, and Simmons is directly on top of him. She assumes Griff decided to sprawl on the ground in protest of something and this was Simmons’ way of getting him to move, because Tucker is on top of him like they were trying to make it uncomfortable. Then Caboose is on top, and she’s not even surprised.

She pities Kimball, putting her faith in these morons right now. But more than anything she pities them, the reds and blues- No. Tucker, Caboose, Griff, and Simons. The reds and blues includes Sarge, Lopez, Donut, Wash, Carolina, Church, and Doc. They are not the reds and blues, not right now.

Griff continues to yell incoherently, drowned out by the pile above him and everybody else yelling.

“Would you please,” Y/n yelled, shutting them up, “try to behave yourselves.”

Everyone was facing away from her, but Caboose craned his neck awkwardly until he could kind of see her.

“Y/n! Where’s your armor?”

“Being repaired.” A lie. She still had her freelancer armor, it was more durable than anything these guys had and that was why she wasn’t wearing it. “Caboose, get up. Same with the rest of you.”

Caboose practically jumped to his feet and ran over to her, locking her in a strong hug– he’d been doing that more recently since they got separated from the others.

Separated, that’s what she kept telling him. It’s what she kept telling all of them, but she wasn’t sure she believed it anymore herself. Did she ever really? She’d seen so many miracles that maybe her luck had finally run out.

Luck.

Wash did not believe in luck, and if he did his was definitely shit. York was always the lucky one, and he was dead so clearly the well of luck must be running dry. But in this moment, he could only hope that whatever drops might be left land on him.

Him, or her? Y/n. Who really needed the luck right now?

He watched Sarge grill some poor Federal army soldier on weapon maintenance while Donut cheered him on in the background and Lopez seemed to be commentating in Spanish. Was this making him miss the blues? He’s not sure, but he definitely misses Y/n. Or as Tucker so kindly puts it, the other brain cell.

Not only does he miss her, but he’s worried about her. Does she know he’s alive? He hopes she does, but the only way to know for sure is to see her. So he has to get this goddamn rescue mission off the ground.

“Sarge! He knows what he’s doing, let him work!”

“How do you know that? You weren’t there for his training, we gotta make sure this mission goes off without a hitch! We gotta save your princess in a tower! You know, operation rescue Simmons! And if Griff accidentally dies, then that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

“La princesa te matará por eso,” Lopez replied,and for once Donut’s translation was on the mark.

“I agree with Lopez, Sarge, I think Y/n might kill you for that.”

“Why? Princess’ can kick ass, you ever seen Xena: Warrior Princess? Or Wonder Woman, she’s a princess! And that Princess from the Italian plumber game, sure she keeps getting kidnapped but when she fights she kicks ass.”

Wash isn’t sure if he’s more baffled by Sarge’s take on princess Peach or just his list of pop culture princesses. He wasn’t even sure if Xena counted as pop culture.

“Just,” Wash sighed, waving his hands in surrender, “leave the poor guy alone.”

How far apart were they, on this strange planet?

They’d definitely been further apart, they’d been so far apart after the project fell. He’d refused to leave, becoming a recovery agent, and she’d been one of the first to defect. He would have left if she’d asked, but that wasn’t her style– in that sense they were the same. They were the worst, the most timid, barely scraping by it seemed while everyone else flourished. Wash only stayed to help Epsilon and the AI, but if Y/n had asked him to leave, to join the fight from the outside, he wouldn’t have hesitated.

That was her strength, always the negotiator, and his strength, she’d always called him a jack of all trades; a strength that had saved them time and time again, whether he realized it or not.

As if bound by an unseen force, both freelancers return to their rooms.

They collapse into their stiff beds, and Wash groans as his helmet bounces off the metal slab of a cot. The back of Y/n’s head hits the sweater she’d folded up as a pillow, and it barely cushioned her from the stiff weave of the collapsible cot. Her armor was piled in the corner of her room, the helmet set on top staring at her.

Wash closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and then begins adjusting his radio signal.

“Y/n? Carolina?” He calls into the empty room. He’s on the old freelancer channel, but he gets no reply, so he changes the channel again. “Y/n? I know you’re out there.” Wash stares at the empty ceiling, it’s an old channel that the MOI didn’t monitor. Good for late night gossip with the others, but it had long since fallen into disuse.

In the New Republic base, Y/n rolls onto her side, cushioning her head with her arm and stares at her armor. The dark visor stares back, and the scratches and chips in the paint remind her that they have survived so much already.

“I’m coming for you. We’re, coming for you, all of you. I’m worried about you, you know, so just hold out a little longer, please.”

Groaning, Y/n pulled herself from her cot and dragged herself over to her armor. She picked up the helmet and dropped back onto her cot, holding it above herself at eye level.

Wash took another deep breath, opening his eyes for a moment to make sure no one was in the room. He closed them again and let out the deep breath.

“I love you, and I’m telling you in person when we come save you. I think… I should have told you a long time ago.”

Y/n lifted her head and pulled the helmet on, starting up the systems and watching the hud light up. She flicked through channels until she landed on the old freelancer channel.

“Wash? Carolina? Are you out there?”

There was no reply.

[bulkyphrase]

Fluffy Steve Fest Rec List Day 4 - Birthday Comedy

It's @fluffystevefest day 4 - Happy birthday Steve! The theme for Thursday is Birthday, but, like yesterday, you're getting something completely different—comedy!

Please enjoy this not at all birthday-themed list of some of my favorite funny fluffy fics.

Son or Dog? by SucculentHyena (@succulent-hyena) (Stucky, General Audiences, 2,518 words)

Summary: Nobody can stop talking about Steve Rogers, the newest employee in the office. He’s nice, he’s handsome, and he adores Charlie. There’s only one thing they can’t figure out: is Charlie his son? Or his dog? Bucky’s going to try his best to find out.

How to Train Your Superheroes by StuckySituation (Gen, Teen And Up Audiences, 3,150 words)

Summary: “But of course, no matter how much we practice on schedule, we will need to learn constant vigilance and manage to get our reaction times down to the minimum,” Steve continues and takes the last burger beef from the grill and puts it onto the table next to him. Natasha has a brief millisecond to frown and think “Constant vigilance?”, before Steve kicks the grill so hard that the coals rain on top of the flammable carpet feets away. “What the hell-!?” “STEVE!?” Steve is already sprinting towards the ledge. “First training session started! Wanda, Sam, Tony - someone CATCH ME!” Then he jumps off the Tower.

Check One by JenTheSweetie (@jenthesweetie) (Stony, Teen And Up Audiences, 4,263 words)

Summary: The important thing to know - and I mean really, the actually important thing - is that no matter what Bucky said, Steve was not flirting with Tony Stark. (“Yes you were, you son of a - ”) Steve has an annoying best friend. Tony has an elaborate plan. Sam has allergies. Bucky has no idea what's about to hit him.

Blind Date by @aggressivewhenstartled, quietnight (@quietnighty) (Teen And Up Audiences, 8,294 words, No Archive Warnings Apply)

Summary: “I just had the best idea I have ever had in my life,” Bucky said, punching straight through a doombot with his metal hand and clutching the napkin with Steve’s phone number in the other. The formerly (somewhat) dark and peaceful corner of Central Park was now lit up with energy beams, flashing robotic lights, and panicked astronomy buffs running for cover. Oh well, it wasn't like they'd been going to see many stars what with all the Christmas shit everywhere. “The bar you are setting for that is not high,” Natasha told him over the coms. Also available as a podfic read by quietnight (@quietnighty)

Situation: Normal by redcigar (Mature, 3,155 words, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

Summary: AU wherein Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers never met, Steve somehow manages to rescue the Winter Soldier anyway, and Avengers Tower ends up with the world’s angriest duckling and a whole new brand of entertainment. - (“He was dragging him out of the river,” Natasha argues later. “Nat, be honest, he was going for the Full Monty.” Says Clint. “I’m pretty sure we interrupted him in the middle of giving ‘emergency CPR’,” Tony agrees, “Or the stage after emergency CPR. Emergency Dick? Is that a thing?” “That’s not a thing,” Natasha and Clint reply.) Also available as a podfic read by quietnight (@quietnighty)

How Steve Rogers Singlehandedly Lost the Cold War by redcigar (Mature, 3,880 words, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

Summary: AU wherein Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes never met, but the Winter Soldier takes an interest in Captain America anyway, and has an odd way of showing it. -- (On the helicarrier, hurrying to reach the central hub of the third aircraft in time, the chip clenched in his gloved fist, Steve turns to find a ghost blocking his path, and is abruptly reminded on what the road to hell is paved with.) Also available as a podfic read by quietnight (@quietnighty)

The God of Solid Life Advice by kehinki (Stony, Teen And Up Audiences, 1,583 words)

Summary: It's 2012. Steve is just informed by Loki that Bucky's alive. Loki also tells him some other things.

Bait and Switch by @galwednesday (Teen And Up Audiences, 2,650 words, No Archive Warnings Apply)

Summary: "Post-action tacos?” Tony suggested. “I’m thinking that place by Fordham. BattleBot, you in?” “Can’t,” the Soldier said, typing something into his phone. “I have a date.” Tony stopped talking for an entire three seconds. “You. Have a date.” The Soldier looked up and blinked, clearly nonplussed to find Sam and Tony both staring at him. “Yes.” “With who?” “My boyfriend.” “You have a boyfriend. You have a boyfriend?” Tony looked like he’d just walked into a lamppost, and then the lamppost had handed him a birthday present. Also available as a podfic read by Nendian

[askgildaseniors]

Welcome to our latest video on keeping your dog safe and happy with the Halo Collar during the summer! In this video, Cesar Millan, an expert dog trainer, shares essential tips and tricks for dog owners to ensure their furry friends enjoy the outdoors while staying safe in the heat. Sun's out, tongues out! Summer's almost here, and it's time to turn up the fun for your furry best friend. Halo hosted a special Halo Live virtual event featuring Cesar Millan, the world-renowned dog behavior expert, for our Gold and Silver Pack Members! During the event, Cesar shared his incredible insights on dog psychology and provided awesome tips and tricks to keep your pup cool, active, and happy all summer long.

KEY TOPICS COVERED: ✅ The Importance of Connection, Communication, and Relationship-Building with Your Dog: Learn how building a strong bond with your dog can enhance their overall well-being and make training more effective. ✅ How the Halo Collar Embodies These Principles and Enhances Your Bond with Your Pet: Discover how the Halo Collar helps you maintain better communication with your dog. ✅ Practical Advice for Managing Your Dog in Hot Weather: Tips on early walks, recognizing signs of overheating, and using protective gear like dog boots to keep your dog safe in the summer heat. ✅ Encouraging Natural Behaviors and Experiences by Letting Your Dog Explore Nature: Understand the benefits of allowing your dog to engage with their natural instincts and experience nature. ✅ Understanding Different Breeds' Needs and How to Cater to Them During Summer Activities: Tailor your dog care approach based on your dog's breed-specific requirements for exercise and other summer activities for dogs. ✅ The Significance of Repetition and Consistency in Training and Building Trust with Your Dog: Learn how consistent dog training and routines build trust and improve behavior. ✅ Fun and Engaging Indoor Activities, Such as Search and Rescue Games, to Keep Your Dog Mentally Stimulated: Keep your dog active and entertained indoors during the hot weather with engaging dog training tips.

By following these tips, you'll create lasting memories and a deeper connection with your dog. Remember, it's not just about keeping them cool – it's about enjoying the summer together while ensuring their well-being.

Don't forget to like, comment, and subscribe for more helpful tips on caring for your dog with the Halo Collar!

[atayxart]

Kyloz Hale

Pronounced (Kai - Loz)

First Appearance: The Kaniyhi Incident at age 17

In Dark Infinity he's been promoted to Circuit's Combat Captain

DOB: 27th March

Age: 17 - 26 - 30

Height: 6ft 5 (195cm)

Pronouns: He/Him/His

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Personality Type: ESFJ

Very Loyal

Courageous

Warm

Compassionate

Protective

Resilient

Big Softie

Strong Practical Skills

Strong Sense of Duty

Good at connecting with others

Good with kids

Too selfless

Ability: Animalise - Tiger (Experiment)

The primary function is to manifest feline characteristics and transform into a tiger.

He has the best control of his ability compared to the others who survived the experiment

He is one of the captains in circuit and one of the best fighters there

However when he was younger his ability was ruled by his emotions, it took extensive training and help from Hezekiak to gain control

The few characteristics he can't get rid of in his human form are the markings around his eyes and his tail

His ears are pointy because he got some of his sister (Scorcha's) dna. The same thing happened to her because she's a red head like him despite being a birdgirl.

Mental Health Issues: Used to struggle with anger issues when he was younger and was named fury in the experiments because of it. As an adult he's learnt better coping mechanisms and is very in touch with his emotions.

Scars/Injuries: Get's burnt by Rai in the main story

Likes: He adores Marina, she was the first person he became friends with after being rescued from the experiments. He likes his food, meat in particular. He is a gym junkie and practices fighting skills daily. But he also enjoys teaching and helping others with their abilities.

Fears: Not being able to protect the people he loves/losing them

Kill Count: 100+

Originally inspired/Influenced by either personality or design wise:

Kisame Hoshigaki (Naruto)

Eustass Kid (One Piece) The spiky hair

Voice: Caring, Soothing, Deep, Masculine

Characters: Clive Rosfield (Final Fantasy 16) (Ben Starr), Mufasa

Songs:

Animal (TLT)

Whispers in the Dark (Skillet)

Let Down (Radiohead)

Wanted for: £2.7 Billion

Reasoning: A Captain of Circuit with an illegal ability

Extra Info:

He was the first male character I made for this story

He's husband and father material. Marina's so lucky

He wants children eventually whether they're his biologically or adopted.

Cats and dogs are wary of him much to his disappointment. They always run away before he can pet them.

He knows he looks intimidating to kids but he's such a goofball they always warm up to him

Has definitely given kids rides around circuit while in his tiger form

He can talk in his animal form and nearly scares Genesis to death when he meets him in the main story

He eats and eats and eats

He likes his sleep

He's a cuddle bug. I know he gives the best hugs.

His tiger ears can pop up while in his human form if he gets really happy/excited. Marina finds it adorable.

Just like the others who can become animals he retains some animal-like tendencies. Most significantly rubbing his face against Marina but he tries his best not to be weird about it.

He's naturally very warm which is great in winter - not so much in summer.

Tigers in the wild practically went extinct during the wars so a lot of people don't know what kind of animal he is. Even he didn't know until he was rescued.

[mikasas-biggestwhore]

Aot headcanons (Last part)

a/n: I got hella busy and had to heavily slowdown on my requests so this is a headcanon post to make up for it. I’ll be back to posting regularly posting soon just hang in there ‼️

Okay now that that’s over, most of these hcs are modern ones. Enjoy :)

Includes: Erwin, Levi, Hanji,

Erwin

This is probably a common headcanon and Erwin definitely makes dad jokes. You can’t do anything around him or else he is definitely going to make a joke out of it some how in someway.

I know a lot of people see Erwin as more as a history teacher guy and don’t get me wrong I do too but I feel like he would need more action. I can see him being a firefighter that rescues cats out of trees or a police officer that has a trained dog by his side

Erwin was definitely right handed and losing his right arm was a very big L. Of course he adapted and in the end he actually is a better lefty then righty. Like his hand writing before was good but now??? Shit looks elegant.

I see him as a romantic. Not like a stereotypical romantic though. Sure he would kiss your knuckles and walk you like the gentleman he is but at the same time he’ll declare to race somewhere out of nowhere and then shove you so he can get a head start.

Going off of that Erwin is a cheater bruh. Not relationship wise but if y’all ever play a game he’s def cheating. I mean he did use his soldiers as pawn for personal gain so it makes sense. NO NOT PLAY BOARD GAMES WITH HIM. He’s either stealing money from the bank while your not looking or either he’s distracting you so you forget it’s your turn. 

Levi

I’m pretty sure it’s canon but Levi is amazing with animals. He’s the type of person that could just be minding his own business and suddenly he finds a kitten that is in desperate need of help and clings to him immediately.

Another thing a lot of people probably agree on is that he’s more of a cat person. I can’t see him ever liking dogs because of how ‘messy’ they can be and how much work and training they require. I have both and can agree cats are less work then dogs 💀

He has a soft spot for little kids. As cold and clinical Levi is I genuinely don’t think he has it in him to be upset with like a 5 year old. Sure annoyed because who wouldn’t be but mad? Nah never. There’s an age limit though if your 12 and up your feeling his wrath regardless.

This is another common headcanon and it’s that Levi runs a tea shop. Okay cool but Imma put my own twist. He runs a tea shop and bakery that connect. Like let’s be fr I know this man knows how to cook. He’s literally so good at anything else why would he not be able to cook? So if he ever opened a tea shop just know there would be a bakery right beside it.

If there was a line of work I could see Levi in it would be the FBI or federal government type of stuff. That or he would be a private investigator. All his skills work out for either and I feel like he would be on of the best in the business. No question about it at all.

Hanji

Hanji has broken several pairs of their glasses. They never break them like a normal person either- What do you mean you dropped them in a enclosure at the zoo? You shattered them from one of your experiments? Do I even wanna know why they are split in two? Yea they constantly break them.

Hanji is an animal person and literally has the most outrageous pets. They have a wolf dog just because they have the space and time for one. The have caracals that live in their house with their own space. They totally have capybaras and prairie dogs too. It’s practically a zoo at their house.

I feel like Hanji is one of those people that just had bad luck. They have no clue what they did to upset the universe but things only happen to them. Say they’re having a nice outing with Levi and Erwin and it starts to rain. They all pull out their umbrellas. Why is Hanji’s the only that breaks.

Hanji is 100% an adrenaline junky. Like they would go skydiving and swim with sharks for fun. It’s something about the rush that makes them so excited and they love having that feeling. It’s not odd at all for Hanji to come back and tell everyone a wild and crazy story

It sounds plain to say if Hanji had a job they would be a scientist. So instead I think they would be a biomedical engineer. Imagine them making fake organs to save people. Or they would go into the field of prosthetics. I just think that they would want to be in a field that includes medicine and helps people. 

Wooo we are finished with aot hcs unless yall make requests 🤭

Part 1

Part 2

[terahero]

How to Choose the Perfect Puppy for Your Lifestyle

Bringing a puppy into your home is an exciting and life-changing decision. However, not all puppies are the same, and finding the right one for your lifestyle is essential for a happy and lasting companionship. Whether you live in a small apartment, have an active outdoor lifestyle, or prefer a calm and cuddly pet, choosing the perfect puppy requires careful consideration. Here’s how to find the best match for you.

1. Assess Your Lifestyle and Daily Routine

Before choosing a puppy, take a moment to evaluate your daily schedule, energy levels, and living situation. Ask yourself:

How much time can I dedicate to exercise and training?

Do I have a spacious home or a small apartment?

Am I looking for a playful, energetic pup or a calm companion?

Do I travel often or work long hours?

Your answers will help determine the best breed, size, and personality type for your home.

2. Consider the Puppy’s Energy Levels

Some breeds require a lot of exercise and mental stimulation, while others are content with short walks and indoor playtime.

If you’re an active person, breeds like Labrador Retrievers, Border Collies, or Australian Shepherds will keep up with your adventures.

If you prefer a low-maintenance companion, breeds like Bulldogs, Basset Hounds, or Shih Tzus might be a better fit.

Matching your energy levels with your puppy’s needs will ensure a happy and healthy relationship.

3. Think About Size and Space

Your living space plays a significant role in choosing the right puppy.

Small apartments are better suited for smaller breeds like Pugs, Dachshunds, or French Bulldogs.

Homes with large yards can accommodate larger breeds like Golden Retrievers, German Shepherds, or Huskies.

Even small dogs need exercise, so ensure you can provide a comfortable environment for your pup to play and explore.

4. Understand Grooming and Maintenance Needs

Different breeds have different grooming requirements. Some need frequent brushing and professional grooming, while others have minimal needs.

Low-maintenance breeds (short-haired dogs like Beagles or Boxers) require minimal grooming.

High-maintenance breeds (like Poodles, Maltese, or Shih Tzus) need regular brushing and haircuts.

If you don’t have time for frequent grooming sessions, opt for a breed with a shorter coat and lower maintenance needs.

5. Consider Allergies and Shedding

If you or a family member has allergies, a hypoallergenic breed like Poodles, Bichon Frises, or Portuguese Water Dogs may be the best choice. Some dogs shed heavily, while others shed very little. Researching a breed’s shedding habits can help prevent future problems.

6. Evaluate Temperament and Personality

Puppies, like people, have different personalities. Some are playful and outgoing, while others are calm and reserved.

If you have kids, choose a gentle and friendly breed like Golden Retrievers or Cavalier King Charles Spaniels.

If you want a protective dog, consider German Shepherds or Dobermans.

If you want a relaxed, easygoing dog, breeds like Basset Hounds or Great Danes may be a good fit.

Spend time interacting with a puppy before adopting to see if their temperament matches your lifestyle.

7. Adopt or Shop Responsibly

Consider adopting a puppy from a shelter or rescue organization. Many lovable dogs are waiting for a home and could be a great match. If you decide to buy from a breeder, ensure they are reputable and ethical, with proper health screenings and breeding practices.

8. Plan for Training and Socialization

All puppies need training and socialization to grow into well-mannered dogs. Some breeds are easier to train (like Labrador Retrievers or Border Collies), while others require more patience (like Huskies or Dalmatians). Consider your experience level and willingness to invest time in training.

9. Think About Long-Term Commitment

Owning a puppy is a 10–15 year commitment. Beyond the adorable puppy stage, your dog will require care, attention, and medical needs throughout their life. Make sure you’re fully prepared for the responsibilities that come with pet ownership.

10. Trust Your Instincts and Connection

Sometimes, the right puppy chooses you! If you feel an instant bond with a particular puppy, trust your instincts. While research is important, your heart will often guide you toward the perfect furry companion.

Final Thoughts

Choosing the perfect puppy isn’t just about looks—it’s about finding a dog that fits your lifestyle, energy levels, and personality. With the right match, you’ll build a loving, lifelong bond with your furry friend.

[thewisaaaaad]

Its pirate day.

and I have a pirate au.

ALRIGHT HAVE SOME TASTY NAUTICAL TREATS FROM NARINDERS LOCKER

This is about some of the most important members of the lambs crew (though William does not claim them as such until AFTER the succession.) along with some of the lambs other friends and... acquaintances. Along with some lore on the Flintlocks used in my setting.

So first off, Flintlocks. These are weapons that, unlike real life, require extensive training to use. This is because they don't use black powder- they use Flint, the skin of the dead god of volcanoes. Mining it is extremely dangerous, as Flint reacts very strongly to trauma, like exploding. It also infiltrates the mind of the one who harmed it like a alien virus, causing the victim to develop pyromania, such that they try to burn themselves alive.

This is why it is usually mined with as many mechanical layers of separation are made between the miners and the Flint. This helps keep the dead gods mind at bay. That same side effect explains the use of flintlocks: lots of mechanical motion that prevents the volcano god from harming the user while the barrel channels and enhances the desired effect of an explosion, in theory.

In practice, a Flintlock user must still possess a very strong will to use one with any frequency. Thus, effective Flintlock wielders are very highly sought after by the bishops, while simultaneously being the exact kind of people who dissent first, due to their training to RESIST A GOD.

This leads nicely into the First mate, Pason (He/They). Pason was the first person that Will rescued, mainly because they had been on the ship that the Lamb had been on. How did he get there? Well...

Pason was a dog, born into a wealthy family within Heket's empire. Heket ruled her crew with an iron fist formed from carefully constructed societal expectations. Pason's father, although already wealthy and influential, sought to expand his influence. The best way to do that?

By enlisting one of his sons as a Flintlocker. What? Why would he ever volunteer himself, that's dangerous!

Anyway, he decides to have his two sons tested for their aptitude at using flintlocks, and has the eldest go first.

It goes horribly, horribly wrong. Pason's brother was immediately engulfed in flames, screaming out in terror for his father, who did nothing but sneer at the charred remains as a servant put out the fire.

Pason saw the whole thing, and was rightly terrified. Then, it was his turn.

But that terror, that understanding of exactly what kind of danger both the Flintlock and his father represented, made him a Flintlock savant in the instant that he pulled the trigger.

The fire knew exactly where its wielder wanted it to go. Training gun or not, it would obey their whims.

After that, both elder dogs were charred scorch marks on the floor, and Pason was a wanted man.

He found comfort with the sheep, people who themselves were hunted, and swore himself to their protection. To his credit, he did a really good job for a year.

But there is only so much a mortal can do against a bishop, let alone four of them.

After his rescue, he served as an anchor for the lamb, helping them stay sane throughout their quest. He also helped unite the crew under the lamb after it grew larger, becoming a true first mate. Pason wields a Flintlock wand alongside a cutlass to reduce mental strain in combat.

Next up is Webber! The boy!

The lamb found him on an island, having seemingly not been there for long, though he lacked clothes. He also spoke in a strange way, completely unlike how a spider normally would.

Webber instead spoke with the sound of a rope being plucked, and didn't seem to understand the language lamb spoke in turn. With time, he was never able to pick up how to speak like the crew, but he could understand them as well as respond using hand signs that were taught by Forneus.

He serves as the crews Boatswain, keeping the ship intact with his odd inventions that work suprisingly well with iron, as well as keeping watch from the crows nest because he can climb the rigging like, well, a spider. He also can pretty effectively wield a Flintlock rifle, though not as well as Pason. When asked about this ability, he simply wrote, "not as bad as crawling horrors", whatever that means.

Then we have Jullaybre. (she/her)

This old chicken has seen a lot. If its something horrible, and involves the bishops, she has probably seen it.

She doesn't talk much, and finds words highly unnecessary in most cases. However, her loyalty to the lamb is unshakable, despite her rough exterior and with how disrespectful she was of William for the first couple weeks.

Jullaybre wields an axe. Doesn't trust Flintlocks. She's worried they'll make her head explode; she doesn't know how Pason deals with the dammed things. (for Pason's part, he doesn't blame her for that distrust on either part. He knows he can count on her to take them out if they go mad.)

And last but not least, we have Gretre, our resident yellow cat. (he/she)

Gretre was a Old Crew member that served under Kallamar. He worked faithfully for 5 years as a Plague doctor, being one of the few who actually tried to cure her patients, until one day Kallamar decided she hadn't been loyal at all. Strapped to an experiment table, he resigned himself to a fate as a lab cat, when suddenly the lamb broke in and saved him.

Now, he serves as the ships doctor, able to help people like he always wanted to WITHOUT also having to give his patients smallpox. That's not to say she isn't inquisitive; she still studies every new disease with great interest, but now she doesn't have to hurt people to do it.

(Also he'd like to put Leshy on a petri dish ifyouknowwhatimean)

[skellyuniverse]

What is Facing the Future? Part 2

Characters Main Characters are the families of Rosemin, Curtisson, Copperright and Panprice. But other families do show up a lot when given the chance. The story also has a lot of OCs but those are just characters made to populate Stickville. Charlie Stickmin: Charlie is a 12 year old girl with pale purple hair coming from her grandma, Henry's mom Aurora. She is rather brave, confident and skilled ike her mother. And very clever and good at solving problems like her father. However, from Ellie, she can also be easily angered or frustrated. From Henry, she is clever but can also be clumsy at times. On her own, Charlie has a high sense of justice and defends her friends fiercely. She rides horses as a hobby, but also likes to draw. Ellry Stickmin: Younger brother of Charlie, 5 years old. He's young and still discovering interests. He is very close with Charlie and always worries for her when she's not home. Ellry tends to be spontaneous and often doesn't understand a lot of things. But he's not dumb. He's curious but cautious. It's not present yet, but Ellry is able to see timelines and endings like his father, just not have choices like him. When Ellry makes a "normal" choice to everything, he gets light flashes or what could have happened if he chose different. His mind is often plagued with nightmares of Henry's past fails even though they're not "canon". Merry Curtis: Adoptive daughter of Sven and Burt. 12 years old and one of the Curtisson twins. She is a tough and strong girl. Always defends her brother or any of her friends. Her and Hunter are friendly rivals of sorts. Her main hobby is practicing on an electric guitar. She's much more scarred by their past than Max. The wins lived on the streets with drunk parents. Their father killed their mother in a drunk fit and later lied that she just had an accident. Merry saw it directly while Max only heard it. When one day their father chased them across a street, Burt and Sven were drving nearby and saved them. She's forever greatful for it. She does train combat with Hunter, and has a nickname Moss. Maxim (Max) Curtis: He's a outgoing and excitable boy. But subconcious about surroundings, as he loves more girly stuff. He wears a lot of pink, loves unicorns and so on. Often people pick on him for it, but Merry and their friends keep him safe. His adoptive dads embrace his interests gladly, so he feels safe at home at least. Sam (Hunter) Price: Sam is a smart, brave and protective boy. A "leader" of the friend group so to say. Him and Charlie are best friends, Merry is close second. From Rupert, he picked up how to be protective but kind and caring at the same time. Sam used to live with neglectful parents. Who made him to be like a slave and didn't care where he went or his well being. When Sam was kidnapped by an evil group (not Toppats) his parents didn't even fill a report. So when Rupert and Henry (pulled out of retirement) went to rescue kidnapped kids, they knew of 10, not knowing Sam was there too. Rupert found him only because another kid told him. After rescuing the boy, Rupert declared to adopt him. Sam, in dcuments, has the name. But for everyone his name is Hunter. Something meant as a military code name-nickname, that he turned to a true name as Sam was given to him by someone so awful. Nicole Copperbottom: Nicole used to live with her grandma, after her parents dropped her off there and abandoned. They lived in a small countryside village. Her grandma met Reginald and RHM when the two left prison after declaring wating to reform. Her grandma offered them shelter and help in settling down. When her grandma passed away, she requested for the two to take care of Nicole. The girl loves her adoptive dads a lot. She is a very shy, quiet and easily stressed girl. She has trouble with panic attacks, so she has a service dog named Fountain. She's a polar opposite of her tough "criminal leader" dads. But that just makes her their treasure.

[moonlight26posts-blog]

In Baltimore City, MD: Staff and volunteer favorite long-termer (only 37lbs!) is looking for placement! - BARCS, Baltimore MD

Universal- 1 y/o, altered female, 37lbs

Universal is a itty bitty girl who is a joyful and happy love bug—all 30 pounds of her. She is working on her leash skills and doing a great job. She may let you know if she sees another dog, but she is easy to redirect. Universal loves a working walk to practice her skills, and has a solid “sit.” Once she gets to the shelter trails she likes a VERY slow stroll so she can sniff every leaf and woodchip - so many new smells and things to see! Universal is affectionate and playful, and she LOVES belly rubs. She is engaged with her person, and lots of fun!

Universal spend time in a temporary foster home and loved nothing more than napping with her head in her foster’s lap. She loves to chew on bones and toys, explore the house and yard, and play with the resident dog. She is very much a Velcro pup - she wants to be with you at all times. She also loves when you hold a toy or bone for her to chew on.

While in our shelter's care and in a previous foster home, Universal has shown obvious leash reactivity towards other dogs and to people, more often so with men than women. Over the past several weeks, she has been working on her 'stranger danger,' doing well with positive reinforcement training. Universal benefits from meeting people on her own turns, having them ignore her, and waiting until she's comfortable enough to approach. Often this method has been successful for Universal and it appears she's really making improvements. She has also begun muzzle acclimation.

Universal has been in and out of the shelter for almost two months now and is understandably quite stressed, so has been on a combination of behavior meds (trazodone and gabapetin) to help, and to assist with keeping her under threshold while working on training and a behavior modification plan.

It's safe to say that Universal is easily both a staff and volunteer favorite, and at this point, everyone wants to see her succeed, but a shelter is not an ideal environment for this girl, so we hope to see her back in a foster home where she can continue working on being the very best girl we all know she has the capability to be.

Universal is available immediately for rescue pick-up.

Please let us know if your organization can help!

Thank you,

The BARCS Rescue Team

Baltimore Animal Rescue & Care Shelter (BARCS) ​New Address! 2490 Giles Rd, Baltimore, MD 21225 rescue@barcs.org| (410) 396-4695

Rescue pick-up hours: Monday-Friday: 10:30 a.m.-6:30 p.m. Saturday and Sunday: 8:30 a.m.-4:30 p.m

Adoption hours: Monday-Friday: 2 p.m.-6 p.m. Saturday and Sunday: 11 a.m.-4 p.m. Baltimore Animal Rescue and Care Shelter, Inc. (BARCS) | 2490 Giles Rd | Baltimore, MD 21225 US