and... kny kyojuro i guess. love his freak's temperament. i'll either blend him into someone new or just put him into the story as is, some tulpa haunting the main character
Bug's 18 when they're handed over to BetterPets by their foster parents, going through various owners and sets of training before being freed for good. This is their life, and that of those they've touched.
Contains: BBU, pet whump, lady whump, disabled whumpee
CWs: BBU, pet whump
Character intros
Bug
Bill, Shaniqua, and 726E/Fido/Charlie
Alix and Mary
O, 493/Honeycomb/Maria, the dog/Max, and Sarita
Michaela, Jane, and Oscar
Brett
Writing
Drop-off (Bug, Bill)
Contract 1 (Bug, Bill)
Contract 2 (Bill, Shaniqua, Charlie)
Contract 3 (Bug, Shaniqua)
Demonstration (Maria)
Home (Charlie, Mandy)
Belt (Charlie, Brett)
Soft/weighted blanket drabble (Bug, Alix)
O (O, Alix, Bug)
Max and Maria (Max, Maria, Anita, Theo)
The Safehouse (Sarita)
Betrayal (Sarita)
Sarita (Sarita, Maria, Alix)
The Talk (Sarita, Alix)
Sarita and Oscar (Sarita, Oscar)
Friend, lost (Sarita, Oscar)
First Aid (Sarita, Maria)
Extras
BetterPets handler's manual
Character asks
Bug
ൠ - random headcanon
Theo and Anita have their own series, available here.
Sergei- Mob-boss with a terrible sense of self preservation and loyal to a default.
Max- Ex-mobster turned policeman who just want to see his once friend happy.
Summary:
Max reminisces about him and Sergei, the situation that brought them together again after all these years, and how much he wishes they could just stay like this forever.
“You have to let it go Max, I’m not having this conversation one more time” Sergei was indeed already on his way out the door, thick black waves of hair masking his features as he began walking into the hallway. He was in pain, Max wasn’t fucking blind, but Sergei seemed determind to fuck up his leg even more than it already was. Why the man refused to listen to anything Max told him at any point was beyond the policeman, but maybe it was the gangster's stubbornness that kicked in.
“I will literally tie you to the kitchen chair if you take one more step down those stairs without your cane” Max grabbed the cool handle in a flurry, taking the stairs two steps at a time to catch up with his stubborn boss… well ex-boss “you’ll fall, and then I’ll be stuck with you in this apartment for six weeks more at least.”
“No need to worry, I’d shoot you myself if I had to spend one more night in this hole” Max knew that he meant it, the idiot was persistent, and Max had already had to pry a gun from the other’s hands once before. It hadn’t been a tease then, hadn’t been intentional either, but if Max hadn’t been as fast as he was that night, he would have gotten a bullet in his brain.
“Not funny Sir” he caught up with the shorter man, shoving the cane at him with a grunt. The other man stared at it, like a child weighing his options, but he eventually took it in his hand. Max spent the total of two seconds in awe that it had been that easy to make his ex-boss follow a simple instruction, but was quickly proven wrong.
Sergei tapped the cane once, twice, took a step and made sure to make direct eye contact with Max as he promptly let go of it.
“Oh no, my poor, weak, broken fingers can’t seem to hold on” his voice was dull as ever, but Max had to hold his breath to not scream out loud at him. “I guess I’ll have to get the groceries without it, too bad.”
Sergei opened the door to the freezing outside world, stepping into the dark street only lit by broken street lamps and whatever light the apartments provided. It was strange seeing him there, standing in mundane clothes, in a mundane street like he was just another man going to the store. It didn’t upset Max, quite the opposite actually. Sergei had never had the opportunity to live the mundane life he was being forced to imitate due to the most recent career injury.
He deserved to at least try it. No matter how much he cursed the “small, ratty apartment” far away, as well as Max’s “awful american cooking” and complained about the “ugly old sack of fur” that Max called a cat. He could say he hated the quiet life all he wanted, but Max could see the way he relaxed when Bullet jumped up on his lap, how he enjoyed his coffee at five in the morning to the sound of the radio playing some old country artist that Sergei would not be able to name, with a knife to his throat. He was at peace in a way Max had never seen him before, and it was worth every minute.
Max knew that he had to let what happened that night go. Sergei reminded him every time the other would begin to mother him once more, in that crude and mean Sergei way.
Max knew that injuries were part of the job, that they risked that when they chose that life. He had had his own brushes with death, had had more than one gangster go out, one more brutal than the other. That didn’t make it any easier.
Sergei was so good to them, his people. He fought tooth and nail for them, broke every law, killed, lied and cheated. Watering down his morals and selling every piece of himself to protect his lot. But in his time of need, when he was bleeding- no when he was dying from three bullet wounds and his skull cracked open like a coconut, he had no-where else to go than Max.
Max, who had betrayed him all those years ago when they were both just stupid kids thinking they could conquor the world. Max still hadn’t asked the other how he’d found his way to the apartment while bleeding all over the place, barely conscious and just lucid enough to force a slurred “help” out between clenched teeth. He shouldn’t even have known where he lived in the first place.
Max had changed his entire identity after that night when they were both 17. He turned to law enforcement and tried his best to put his stupid youth behind him. Apparently he wasn’t good enough at hiding his trail. Because Sergei had found him that night two months ago.
Max hadn’t even thought twice as he half dragged the other man into the small apartment, not caring about the stains on his carpet or having to explain it to his neighbours in the morning. All he cared about was Sergei dying in his arms, and selfishly, that the other man had come to him. He had come to Max, after all these years, after all the betrayal and pain, Sergei had still come to him.
“Oi, idiot, how about you make those legs work and get your ass up here” Max was snapped out of his thoughts by Sergei, a scenario that he was getting too used to these days. He would have to give it up soon, when Sergei was well enough to go back to the harbours. When he wasn’t needed anymore. He shook away the thoughts, put them on a shelf to rethink once Sergei was asleep, then followed the order.
In front of him, Sergei had grown a bit short of breath, favouring his left leg significantly and Max could see the shake of his legs as they struggled to support him.
“Yes Sir” He mumbled, hurrying up beside him. Max handed him the cane, and after a stubborn staring contest the russian tore the metal cane from Max’s grasp. Grunting in annoyance as they continued on their way down the street.
For now, Max would enjoy the quiet times with his ex-best friend. For now he’d make sure that Sergei felt safe and loved. Just for now.
