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placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 4 months

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Reign down on me - Part 6

Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)

No use of y/n or mention of gender/race

Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt, violent scenes

A/N: Hi, helooooo! Sorry for the long update times, my life has been super hectic. So this chapter didn't go where I thought it would end up going, so there's some things I think I said I was gonna explore that will be in the next chapter instead. However I hope you enjoy this one 💕 thanks for waiting

-🐺-

There was a quiet hum pulsing through the room, the buzz of everyone around you tending to their own conversations and hoppy drinks which allowed you to relax and attempt to tune out the busy environment. After another successful mission, the 141 wanted to unwind- which apparently meant going to the pub for drinks, darts and, according to them, mediocre grub. Although after dining fine on MRE’s for the majority of your life, you had to disagree. That sausage and mash was the some of the best you’d tried.

Ghost had forced you to change into some civvies before you’d left, which meant doing another embarrassing repeat of the shopping experience hed’d taken you out on. You still weren’t convinced you were able to put together a good outfit, fussing and trying a few different combinations of things, but once Ghost had looked you up and down and given you a nod of approval you’d relaxed.

When you’d all gotten to the pub and you’d seen that less people stared at you while in your new attire, you were soon thankful for the change. A hybrid in military gear drew attention, it probably made people think the area was being worked, but a casually dressed and collared hybrid was apparently nothing to get too concerned about. Huh.

Once you’d pressed yourself to the back of the booth, you barely worried about being out in public anymore. The world was the confines of the table, the edge of it stretching no further than your now trusted teammates. That became all the more true after you were offered a drink and then another and another. Once the buzz had started, the last of your lingering anxieties around being out floated to the back of your mind and disappeared like smoke. None of the other patrons were even a blip in the back of your fuzzy little head.

“So Pup, what’d you reckon?” Gaz asked, spinning his pint glass around in his hand. “‘Nother drink?”

How many were you actually allowed, you wondered, you’d already had a few. When you turned to Ghost to try and gauge your answer, he was too busy talking in hushed tones to Soap, so instead you employed your backup. Price smiled wryly the second you clocked eyes with him across the table.

“Like most things, Pup, this ain’t a test,” Price chuckled. “You know your own tolerance don’t you?”

“You think I’ve done a lot of drinking before?” You asked back, innocently dodging his question.

You twiddled with your own glass, rolling it between your palms and watching the dregs inside twirl. Bubbles of the beer still continued to fizzle across your palette even as you watched it dance below you. The hypnotic show only served to further make you aware of the hazy sheen across your eyes, and you were sure that if you stood up you’d probably feel like you were walking on foamy clouds.

You’d have to be careful. Wouldn’t do to overindulge, you tried to remind yourself. Though that voice was quiet compared to the euphoric beast in you that cried out for more, that wanted to keep going until you forgot about every sordid thought in your head as easily as you forgot about how uncomfortable crowds made you.

“Well you sunk those pretty quickly,” Gaz said, motioning his glass toward you.

“Not to mention Branhaven has one of the highest rates of contraband seizure for a UK base,” Price noted, finishing the last of his drink. “Reckon you’ve probably indulged a time or two, no?”

You couldn’t conceal your smile. Though your ears soon pinned to your head, realising that the implication that you were engaging in illegal behaviour was floated out wide in the open. It was true, hybrids would often do chores or other kinds of favours for human soldiers in exchange for goods, which often meant working for booze or cigarettes or stronger stuff on occasion. You’d been more than happy to help with boot polishing and patch sewing on an occasion or two. Some nights it helped with the pain, on others it just kept you from going mad.

“Don’t worry, we won’t tell anyone your secrets,” Gaz winked. “I’ll go get us another round.”

You bit your lip and nodded, watching as he made his way over to the busy bar, casually floating around a group of men before seizing an opportunity to break through to the oderous wood top. Once at the counter, he folded his arms over it and leaned his body out ever so slightly, his hips angling back toward the table.

It was hard to tell if it was entirely the drink, but as you watched him, you found yourself really looking what you saw. Gaz was a well built man, lean and proportioned well, but it was his face that your eyes were stuck on. He looked good that night, his smiles came easy, the full ones that showed his fang-like teeth. They glinted in the soft light when he turned around to say something to the man next to him, shining like pearls. His shoulders were relaxed, back untensed, his body shook with laughter when the other man made a joke.

Truth be told you couldn’t be sure how long you stared after him, but it was safe to say your roving eyes didn’t go unnoticed.

“See somethin’ you like over there?” Price asked, jerking his head back to the Sergeant.

You blinked slowly. Your head felt like it was rushing with syrup, getting flustered but too tipsy to respond with anything smart.

“What?”

“You’re lookin’ awfully hard is all,” he shrugged.

The room felt like it heated a few degrees. In an effort to not meet that crinkly eyed grin of your captain, your gaze floated along the arm hed slung over the back of Gaz's chair. However, that only gave you more problems. You immediately imagined him slinging that arm over you, holding you close and sharing his heady body heat. Smelling his scent, bathing him in yours.

It’s happening again!

Your ears perked up like lightning rods when you realised that some baser part of your nature was taking over yet another time that week. The feral little creature that usually kicked around somewhere in your hindbrain was clawing its way to the forefront. Now you were practically panting after half your team. You needed to get a hold of yourself, you reasoned, surely you weren’t going to give into whatever random desires you were getting for closeness. Stupid Pack bond - or whatever it was that Ghost had chalked it up to.

“I, uh- there’s pool over there,” you shrugged lamely, gesturing to the tables just off to Gaz’s right.

Someone managed to pot a ball not long after you’d said it. Your ears tilted toward the sound, then swivelled again when you heard Gaz’s familiar huffs and puffs of effort. He was now stepping toward you with a trayful of glasses, clenching his teeth whenever he came close to spilling or bumping into someone, walking ever slower with the wobbling glasses as he realised how precariously they were balanced. His muscles bulged a little with the effort.

Price caught your stupid staring again, but he didn’t say anything about it this time. His eyes just narrowed knowingly at you, not with accusation but with concealed humour. You could tell by the subtle pull of his lip.

“Gazzy. You up for a game?” Price barked.

“Depends, what are we playing?” Gaz asked, raising a brow as he snatched his pint.

He took a sip of it, coating his upper lip in a little sheen of foam. He licked it off in short order.

“The wolf wants to play pool,” Price said.

Price once again interrupted your brain fog from taking over. Knowing full well that he would be wearing that same stupid ‘I know what you’re thinking’ look on his face, you looked up at Gaz and reached out for your own drink. That one had to be your last before - god forbid - you were left drooling over anyone else.

“Oh yeah? You a secret pool master?” Gaz asked.

“Oh…no,” you clarified, awkwardly swallowing a gulp of beer. “I’ve watched it being played enough times though. I always wanted to try it.”

You’d never actually been that bothered about it, you preferred to blend in rather than get caught in competition, especially when it came to games with humans. However as far as any of them were concerned, it was your life’s dream. Anything, as long as it stopped anyone from thinking that you were obsessed with your teammate.

“You wanna pair up with me then? Reckon you should be on the winning team for your first game.”

“Pfft, winning team? Sure that’s with you, son?” Price scoffed.

“Beat you last time didn’t I, old man?”

“Fuck off.”

Price took a dramatic gulp of his beer then loudly pushed off from the booth, marching toward the pool table as if it were a mission objective. You laughed noiselessly to yourself, but soon had to stop yourself from choking on your own drink when the little demon inside you commented on how nice his big broad shoulders were, perfect for holding you close.

How were you going to survive the night?

You looked back over at Ghost to try and regain some sense of composure only to see that Soap was shuffling along the bench to leave and your handler was about to follow him. Giving him a slight head tilt in question, you wondered where they were going. To which, Ghost answered by pulling you in close, wrapping his arm around you and leaving you practically choking on his forearm for a second, before he released you with a messy pat on the head.

“We’re goin’ for a smoke,” he chuckled, watching your annoyed glare with amusement while you fixed your hair. “Be good while I’m gone.”

The smile lines broke out under his eyes, and for a ditzy second all you could do was stare. All thoughts of telling him off left your mind, instead you were stuck looking above his face mask, drinking in the glittering pools of his irises and the blush tinged tops of his cheeks. Your tail wagged traitorously when he continued to stare back.

“What?” he huffed, smile still not leaving his eyes.

Your entire body flamed at being caught this time.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, shrinking back into the chair.

You hoped that the chair would swallow you.

“Silly thing.”

Ghost gave you a scratch behind the ears then finally slid off to join Soap. However, you weren’t left alone to your own self-deprecating thoughts. Gaz was watching you, his lips curving in amusement. He started to twirl his glass again, spinning it around on it’s axis.

“So how do you like being with the 141 so far then?”

The question caught you off guard, but you had to admit it was a welcome distraction. You unpinned your ears from your shameful, burning head and relaxed once more.

“I like it,” you said simply.

“Oh yeah? How’s staying with Ghost?”

“Oh uh, Ghost is nice. It’s been cool having my own room,” you said, smiling as you thought about your big comfy bed. “He’s been really good to me.”

Gaz snorted out a laugh before he could stop himself.

“What?” You glared. “What’s so funny?”

“Nice isn’t the first word I’d use to describe Ghost, but….” He shrugged.

“Ghost is nice though,” you frowned, body growing tense at the hint of any accusations of the contrary.

“Sure, when he’s not telling awful jokes or burning holes into your head with that stare he has,” Gaz laughed, outstretching his hands and wiggling his fingers. “I’m from Manchester and I’m gonna steal your soul with me spooky eyes.”

You giggled at his terrible impression, back unfurling from its defensive hunch, then hit his hands away playfully. Normally you would’ve worried about the repercussions of doing something like that to a superior, but the drink was still buzzing through your head and if that weren’t enough Gaz’s smile shone brightly back at you.

“Ghost isn’t spooky,” you affirmed.

“Seriously? Next you’ll tell me that you don’t live in a big haunted castle together.”

“We don’t!” You laughed.

“I bet it has skeleton decorations everywhere. Skull pillows and skeleton paintings, table and chair legs shaped into bones.”

“No!”

“Really? Damn, the man isn’t as predictable as I thought…but honestly tell me. Does he have little skeleton jammies? You can’t seriously tell me that he doesn’t keep the skull look going when he gets home. He probably sits and watches Netflix with his skull top and bottoms and skeleton cuddly toy and skeleton sockies. No? Genuinely?”

You only continued to laugh and shake your head, denying his silly accusations. Gaz smiled back at you, shifting his eyes over you as if he were cataloguing every sign of your delight.

“Oi, time for hilarities is over,” Price said, appearing through the parting crowds. “get ready to get your arses handed to ya. I got us a table”

“You sound awfully confident, Captain,” Gaz said, scraping his chair across the rough floors.

“Because I’m not drunk this time.”

“Don’t need you to be drunk to beat you. Got Pup on my team, we can’t lose.”

-🐺-

“Maybe I should sit this one out,” you murmured, flinching as the cue white ball barely even tapped the yellow ball that you were trying to hit.

Your ears pinned low to your head and your temperature grew as you looked up and down the table and failed to see how you were going to pot even a single ball at the rate you were going. When you’d watched the game being played in the past, you’d assumed it was easy, but apparently the human soldiers were just skilled at it.

Your failure was made all the worse by the fact that Gaz and Price had very dutifully stood and explained the rules and how to use the pool cue when the game had begun. In fact Price had been so thorough on his explanation it prompted Gaz to assert once again that you were going to beat his arse easy. However…

You had taken two attempts and in that time had only nudged that mockingly cheerful yellow ball once. The first attempt where you almost missed even hitting the cue ball altogether didn’t bear thinking about. Meanwhile Price had already potted four. You chewed your lip, hoping Gaz wouldn’t be too annoyed that his tutoring was apparently falling on deaf ears.

“Aw, don’t worry Pup. You’ll get it,” Price chuckled.

“Yeah, don’t sweat it. It’s your first game!” Gaz reassured

He leaned over then and zeroed in on a striped orange ball, setting his cue across the back of his roughened hand and sawing it back and forth like a wary snake. He’d taken off his brown trucker jacket at the beginning of the match, so now his arms were out in full display, practically suffocating inside the short sleeves he wore and bursting to get out. Your eyes grazed along the cue and danced between the thick hairs on the backs of his forearms and up to his biceps, mesmerised by the shifting muscle.

You missed seeing him finally hit the cue ball, but your ears twitched at the sound and your heart sunk when you both saw and heard the resulting ‘plonk’ of the orange stripe rolling merrily into its pocket. You were so screwed.

“Gonna hold back on making eyesight jokes now, Garrick?” Price questioned, already lining up his next shot.

“Only if you manage to get that blue,” Gaz winked, pointing to a ball that sat nowhere near the cueball.

“Easy, I’ll just hit the ball off the side, let it bank left and then it’ll roll into the pocket,” he grinned.

“Oh yeah, easy,” Gaz scoffed, nudging you with his shoulder. “Watch this, Pup. Captain’s about to embarrass ‘imself.”

“Oi. Keep your shit opinions to yourself!”

Gaz rolled his eyes, but nevertheless the two of you watched in concentrated silence as Price actually started to line up the shot he called. After a few tense seconds of watching him adjust and readjust once more he took a breath then whacked the ball with all the force of a train going through a brick wall. The white ball smacked into the fuzzy green side then banked just shy of the blue striped ball, rolling furiously into the pocket straight after. It landed with a heavy thunk to boot.

“Fuck me,” Price muttered to himself, immediately grabbing for his beer straight after.

“Wahey! Look at that Pup, we’ve got two shots,” Gaz said, heavily patting your shoulder. “We’ve got this.”

“Yeah,” you laughed weakly, handing him the cue. “You got this.”

“Woah woah woah,” Gaz said, tilting his head dramatically. “We’re a team, we got this.”

“Well it is your shot.”

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

He shoved the pool cue back into your hands, but he didn’t step away from you after. He pressed you insistently toward the table and caged his arms between yours, taking your hands with his and adjusting them up the smooth wood. You shivered at the feeling of his warm breath tickling at your neck and teasing through your hair. You stiffened up like drying clay when he moulded himself closer into you.

“Don’t freeze up like that, you’re not under attack. Look, I’m gonna show you how to hold it properly and that way you’ll get a good hit alright?”

You chanced a look back at him and caught a look into those molten honey eyes, knowing full well you were a goner. You’d just have to go with whatever he said. After giving him a gentle little nod, you swallowed the lump in your throat and turned back toward the table, allowing him to slowly arrange your body so that you were in the supposed perfect stance.

His hands were silk, gliding delicately across your arms so that you would place yourself how he wanted. You had to hold yourself back from shivering every time his touch came. Once you were standing how he wanted, he took to laughing and tutting at you until you got your finger into the correct position to support the cue, and only when that was Gaz certified did he allow you to start readying your shot.

“Ok, take it away, Pup. You got this!”

After a couple of practice slides, you drew the cue back one final time, holding your breath as you prepared to send it flying forward and into the purple ball that Gaz had lined up for you. You finally took your shot, watching with wide eyes as the cueball barrelled forward and shunted straight into the purple, sending it toward the pocket while it landed neatly beside a couple more of your balls, ready for the next shot. As soon as the purple landed fully down, you were jumping up in an instant.

“I hit it! I hit it and scored a point,” you said, full smile beaming as you turned to Gaz. “Did you see how fast it went? I wanna do that again!”

Gaz’s sharp canines were on full display again. His eyes travelled low down on your body and he chuckled, and only when you followed his eyeline did you see that your tail was furiously wagging up a storm behind you. It wafted up a big draft of air, blowing gusts through the old newspapers that were piled on the low table behind you.

“I saw. You did good,” Gaz praised, laughing while rubbing the little spot on your cheek that he always did.

“Yes, Pup - very good,” Price added dryly, shaking his head while taking another swig of his drink.

With that the newspapers behind you turned from almost the front pages, toward the nonsense stories at the back.

“What’s got you so excited, fuzzy lugs?”

You turned and saw Soap leaning over the end of the table, slowly swirling his whisky while he assessed the game. His blue eyes rolled from one end and to the other then settled on you, pinning you in place for a moment until you’d realised that he’d asked you a question. You bit your lip and shrugged, trying to downplay yourself a little as you remembered that your victory was being celebrated a little too early.

“I potted a ball,” you shrugged, trying to hide your mellowed tone with a drink.

“Oh did ye, aye? You’ll have to do it again for me and Ghost,” he grinned.

Soap motioned his head to the left, pointing toward Ghost who was taking his time wandering back to Soap’s side. You could smell the cigarette smoke cloying to him as he walked by. It made your nose wrinkle. Though you soon forgot all about it when he shot you a wink.

“Gonna show us your new skills?” He asked.

Now everyone was watching you. No pressure.

You gulped and made your way back to the table side, using your cue like a walking stick. Poking your tongue out, you stood for a second and swayed a little on your unsteady tipsy feet, thinking through your next move. Your eyes roved over the balls, moving between the two most likely candidates until you settled on the green.

After looking up and confirming everyone was still staring, you shuddered. However Gaz gave you an encouraging smile, which spurred you on all the more. A few awkward seconds passed while you tried to reform yourself into the same position Gaz put you in before. Even in your drunken state you still recalled most of the ways he’d shown that you were supposed to position yourself, all the while keeping your hands further up the stick so that you could hit harder and keeping your finger ridgid against it.

You slid it back and forth, once, then another two times and finally you made your move. The cue thwacked into the cueball and sent it rocketing into the green, sending the green ball rolling forward and flying toward the left side pocket. The ball began to lose its momentum just toward the end, it slowed just a little more and then a little more and just when your ears started to collapse downward in disappointment, it managed to creep into the pocket at the last second.

“Holy shit I did it! I did it all by myself!” You squealed, perking back up again and grinning like an idiot.

You turned, making sure everyone had seen it, but before you could take stock everyone you were surrounded by two massive chests. The pressure came quickly crushing you up like a scrapped car. Though you didn’t mind, when your panicked mind realised they were hugging you, you settled into it and wagged your tail.

“That’s my good Pup,” Ghost crooned, his voice even more gravelly than usual.

“You did so good!” Gaz whooped.

They both parted from you and just when you’d adjusted to having full lung capacity again, Soap all but whacked all the air from you with a couple of big pats on the back.

“Well done, furball,” he said lowly, throwing you a sly smile. “Knew you had it in ya. You’re my wee pack mate after all, aren’t ya?”

Your tail wagged even harder at that.

“Yes, very good,” Price barked, smiling despite the faux stern expression he tried to hold. “You taking your next turn or not, Pup?”

“I get another one?” You gawped, looking at the last few balls in awe.

“You get one every time you pot. And if you don’t get on with your next one I’m confiscating it from you.”

“Don’t think that’s in the rules, old man,” Gaz laughed.

“Gotta give myself a chance here, Garrick. You two have bloody hustled me,” Price retorted.

“Oh you think you’re hustled now? Just wait for this next turn.”

-🐺-

You helped Gaz win that game in the end, and as a reward he insisted on carrying you to the taxi on his back. Well, that’s what he intended anyway. He stumbled just as he got out the pub door and collapsed in a fit of drunken laughter. At that point Ghost took over and hoisted you up on his shoulder, carrying you like a sack of potatoes.

Had you been in any state to complain you might’ve, however you were still riding on a winning high and your head was full of bubbles and fizz. No matter how hard you tried to stop it, your tail continued to sloppily wag even while Ghost carried you, and for the rest of the night he complained about having fur in his mouth. Normally something like that would worry you, thinking you’d annoyed him, but you’d been so carefree you fell asleep on him once he’d lugged you to the sofa.

You’d woken the next morning stretched out fully over a sleeping Ghost and Soap, jumping up in mortification when you realised what you’d done and running to your bed for what felt like an extra five minutes of sleep. Then as a grand result of your wild night out (compared to anything else you’d ever done), you were exhausted the whole next day. So much so that you’d been flagging through a lot of your exercises, but luckily Ghost went easy and structured training so that you got more breaks and got easier tasks to complete. Whether that was more for you or him, you couldn’t really decide.

“Sleepy Pup,” Ghost chuckled, rubbing your cheek with the back of his greasy hand. “We’ll get an early night tonight, huh?”

You hummed in response. The sound of him cleaning his rifle had been relaxing, the cloth fibres smoothly running along the barrel while you leaned against his leg and caught up on a little napping. Normally he would send you off to do something while he did upkeep, but given your low energy he was quite happy to have you rest with him while he worked.

“Alright then, Pup. Time to head off home,” Ghost grunted, giving your shoulder a gentle shake. “We just gotta swing by Price’s office first.”

“Ok,” you said through a yawn.

Your tail crooked off to the side more than usual, and you could feel the fur on your ears sticking up like an animal that had just emerged from hibernation. Had there been a mirror around, you knew you’d be jumping back from it,though luckily that wasn’t the case. Instead you followed listlessly along after Ghost, plodding through the hallways like a mindless golem after its master.

“You ok to wait out here?”

It had barely even registered that you’d reached Price’s door. However when your mind came too, you were out in the dingy hallway that proceeded his room. The two of you standing by the chipped paint patch that looked suspiciously like someone had slammed a chunk out of the wall. You slowly nodded when you finally caught up, the joint in your neck rolling as if automated.

“Try not to fall asleep out here. I’m not carrying you again,” he chuckled. “You need anything, just knock.”

You nodded again and watched him quietly open the door and click it shut. He left you alone in the corridor, staring bleary eyed at the flickering light, absentmindedly falling back against the wall and counting out the seconds between its full beam and little strobe dance. Without fail it would flicker every five to seven seconds.

Footsteps marched down the hallway in the distance, and your ears twitched to their rhythm. The boots slapped against the floors at a quick pace, and slowly muffled voices echoed from out of obscurity and rang through your ears. The two men became clearer by the second, and before long they were crossing your path, just about to walk past you until one of them caught eyes with you and halted as if stopped by an invisible force.

“Care to explain what you’re doing leaning around like that, hybrid?” he growled.

You frowned at him. The man had dark hair closely cropped to his head, save for a small combed over patch on the top and big bushy eyebrows that fell heavy over his dark eyes. His friend meanwhile was almost completely bald, but had a striking scar across his cheek and a birthmark on his neck. Both of them seemed young, though not young enough that they were too fresh to think about messing with you apparently.

“I’m waiting for my handler to finish his meeting with Captain Price,” you said evenly, figuring it was easiest just to answer him.

He didn’t look satisfied with your answer though, his eyes lit up in challenge and his jaw twinged as if biting through bone. All traces of tiredness left you in that instant. Whatever was about to happen couldn’t be good, you were experienced enough to know that much.

“What was that?” the man said, tilting his head for emphasis.

His friend raised his brows, looking between the two with a vexed expression. He musn’t have been as familiar with hybrids, you thought dully, glancing at him while still keeping yourself focused on the combover man. If only one of them was going to be aggressive then defending yourself from whatever they were going to do would be easier.

“I said that I’m waiting for my handler,” you ground out, stiffening your posture.

“Waiting for your handler, sir,” the man corrected, his thick eyebrows casting a dark shadow over his eyes. “You have to show respect to your superior officers.”

You said nothing in response, only nodding your head once and gritting your teeth. Technically that was true, but given Ghost was a Lieutenant that meant that you likely outranked them (given that you were automatically ranked the same as your handler as a hybrid). Those assholes could kick rocks as far as you were concerned, you’d earned your right to speak on their level.

“Do you want a last chance to fix your attitude, hybrid?” he asked, tensing his arms as he leered over you.

His shadow flickered in the wavering light and you couldn’t help but think of him as a demon. His friend put a hand on his back and urged him to ‘just forget about it’, but still the man didn’t budge. He continued to loom over you and stare expectantly, though as far as you were concerned he could wait forever.

He didn’t though. The little shit, took your silence as insolence, and just when he was about to reach out and grab you, you strafed back from him and growled. The sound had the other man widening his eyes, but your main attacker only glared. It spurred him to come for you once again, but again he missed you and then failed to grab you another time after that.

“Get the fuck over here, you little-”

He reached out again to grab you, and finally he’d succeeded, clenching his hand painfully around your arm. However you weren’t going to let him manhandle you like that. You barked out a fearsome roar of defiance and dug your nails, more like claws, into the thick uncovered flesh of his arm and yanked it backward while spinning away from his grip. The yowl of pain he let out interrupted his sentence and sent his friend into a panic trying to drag the man back.

“What the fuck is going on out here?”

The shout echoed out across the concrete walls and all at once you all ceased your rebuttals. Your teeth stayed bared and you continued to pant, staring down the hallway as if possessed by a vengeful force. Meanwhile the two men looked fearfully over at the source of the voice, paling noticeably when they were forced to reckon with your fearsome handler.

Your attacker gulped, loud enough that your sensitive ears picked up on it and swivelled in his direction. He flinched at the movement, but soon straightened up. The pitiful man held out his arm and set his face in a grim expression, using his other hand to motion down at the bleeding claw marks.

“This hybrid attacked me, sir,” the man said, voice far more subdued than it had been before.

Ghost raised his eyebrow from behind his mask and looked over at you. Once he’d finally assessed the state you were in, he put his body in between the two of you and set to work calming you down. He took your collar in his hand and directed you to look at him, smoothing his hand down your back and blocking your view of the perceived hostile. After which, he took to gently shushing your panting and making calming noises.

“Can you tell me what happened?” He asked after a few moments, smoothing his hands over your ruffled hair.

“Well, what happened was-” the man’s friend began.

“Wasn’t fucking talking to you,” Ghost growled, not even sparing a look back.

Your mouth twitched into a smile, but Ghost didn’t indulge it. He set his eyes on you with a serious frown and forced a sigh from your lips. Part of you had thought that Ghost might be on your side, but now a little voice in the back of your mind was trying to scream past a crumbling barrier - it told you that maybe Ghost was going to give up on his gentle handler act. It would make sense, you thought, you were a bad soldier, you didn’t deserve the nice treatment to begin with.

“I was waiting for you and then…I was asked what I was doing and then, when I explained myself, I was told I wasn’t being respectful enough. He tried to grab me and I fought him off,” you said awkwardly, not wanting to meet his eyes any longer.

“Sir, that hybrid was leaning around - not even waiting at attention and when I tried to address their behaviour, I was given nothing but bad attitude back. I was trying to correct it’s bad behaviour when it saw fit to scratch me up like a fucking feral cat!” The man fumed.

“Correct their behaviour?” Ghost asked, turning to man finally. “How were you going to correct my hybrid’s behaviour exactly?”

Your heart dropped into your belly. Every instinct within you screamed out that you were about to meet Ghost’s iron fist at last. You were going to experience a lashing at the very least and at worst, he might take everything you had come to care about away from you. Hot salty tears brimmed on top of your cheeks, finally overflowing at the thought that Ghost might’ve only given you all those things so that it would hurt more having them taken away again.

You made sure to sob quietly, sniffling softly into your hand so that you wouldn’t antagonise Ghost any further. Tears won’t get you anywhere in the army, mutt, Maddox’s voice chirped in the back of your mind. You almost missed the man’s pathetic whimpering answer.

“Well…I was going to give it a slap, sir. Strike some sense into it.”

“I see,” Ghost replied, wide back still obscuring the man from you.

You doubted you’d make anything out past your tears anyway. In your mind everything was in the process of being ripped out of your life again, the team were going to look at you like the disappointment you knew you were, your things were going to be scrapped and stripped down to bare essentials once more and you’d never get to feel Simon the cuddlytoy’s soft fur ever again. However you were ripped out of your little pity parade with the sound of a hard smack.

Your ears perked up and you jumped back a pace or two, looking around for the source of the noise until you looked past Ghost and saw your attacker rubbing his cheek and groaning. For a second, you couldn't quite believe what had happened, but soon enough the man was wrenching his hand away from his face in an effort to save face and it revealed an angry looking red patch of skin. It really had happened - Ghost had slapped the soldier. 2

“You think that’s knocked some sense into you, Second Lieutenant?” Ghost sneered. “Don’t you fucking dare breathe in the direction of another handler’s hybrid ever again, nevermind think that you have the right to discipline them, you self-righteous little cunt. Get out of my sight the pair of ya.”

The man opened his mouth, about to say something in his defence until his friend nodded sharply and began to drag him away. Not wanting to cause more of a scene the man relented, but the way he glared as he turned told you that this wasn’t over. There was a new target on Ghost’s back now.

However, said back was turning away from you now and Ghost was facing you once again and pulling you into his arms. After a shocked second of fear, readying yourself to be hit or similarly reprimanded, you slowly came to realise he didn’t mean to hurt you at all. He was hugging you and rubbing your back, telling you that it was alright.

“Wh- what are you doing?” you asked feebly, trying your best not to hiccup or sniff through your words.

“Trying to comfort you, if you’ll let me,” Ghost snorted, slowly walking you backward.

You walked with him, but only grew more confused as he dragged you into Price’s office and forced you to sit on the old ratty couch and curl up with him. Out of the corner of your bleary eyes you saw Price sitting at his desk and watching you both with concern, gathering up a few bottles of water onto his desk. In front of you, Ghost wrapped his grip ever tighter round you and got you to bury your head into his neck.

“It’s over now, Pup,” Ghost said softly, smoothing over your salt scorched cheek. “You’re ok.”

“But…you- aren’t you going to punish me?” you asked, freeing yourself from his hold a little and drawing away from his usually relaxing scent so that you could make an effort to think straight.

“You’ve not done anything worth punishment,” he said gently.

“I scratched someone,” you whined, looking down at your still bloody hands with a wobbling lip.

“Someone that saw fit to break protocol and try to discipline a hybrid that wasn’t theirs. You had every right to defend yourself. You’re not going to be punished for that.”

“Especially not when the punishment he had in mind didn’t fit the crime in the first place. Corporal punishment is supposed to be reserved for serious offences Pup, not for leaning or having a bad attitude,” Price added, coming to sit at your other side. “Here, take a drink of this. You need it, you’ve made yourself unwell.”

He handed you a water bottle and gave you a serious look until you finally took it from him and slowly uncapped it. Through a series of uneasy sips, your heart began to regulate and your body stopped shaking. You hadn’t even realised that you had been shaking. The realisation made you sign, taking a couple breaths until you could clear your mind enough to reach some level of proper awareness again.

“I thought it was all going to go away,” you sighed, leaning against Ghost’s chest when you knew that things were normal again.

“What was going to go away?” Ghost asked, rubbing his thumb over your cheek.

You bathed in his and Price’s joint attentions, letting Ghost rub your cheek and Price smooth a hand over your shoulders and back. For a few luxurious seconds you let yourself revel in the fact that you were wrong. The stupid little panicky voice in your head was a liar. Everything was just as it had been.

“Everything,” you said eventually, voice barely a whisper. “I thought you were going to take all my things away and start treating me like they did at my old base. Thought I was going to be sent to the post…”

“Mark my words, anyone tries to lash you again and they’ll have the entire 141 to answer to, Pup,” Price said, voice coming through in a low growl.

“And I’d never take away your things,” Ghost vowed, cupping your cheek so that you had to look at him. “They’re given to you as payment for your service to us. They’re not for me or anyone else to take away, just like Price can’t rip my things from me. Nothing’s going away and you’re never going to be treated the way you were ever again. You’re ours, alright? We always protect our own.”

You stared at them both in disbelief, but couldn’t think of anything to say. The exhaustion and the upset combined and you were left feeling more drained than you had been in days. Instead you settled down back into Ghost’s collar bones and let yourself be petted and fussed over, sleepily letting your eyes close for the last time that day.

“Just wait till Soap and Gaz hear about this. That bastard’ll be lucky to see sunrise tomorrow,” you only just heard Price whisper darkly, before scratching a calloused hand over your ears.

“Now now, Price,” Ghost murmured back. “Gotta make it look like an accident.”

#reign down on me #simon ghost riley #Simon Riley #Ghost #mw2 #ghost x reader #Hybrid!reader

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mooshywrites · 4 months

Note

Hello there, I just wanted to start off by saying how much I adore your works!

Would I be able to request the companions reacting to a drow reader who is surprisingly kind and gentle but is still treated with distrust by people? I always found it odd how none of the companions reacted to Tav being treated poorly due to being a drow, especially considering how out of there way they go for others!

Thank you so much!

A/N - I know it would probably be wayyyyy too much game data to include tons of class and race specific lines, but this one I really feel like they should’ve gone into! If anyone reads this and has free time, do some research into drow and especially driders. It’s all a fascinating world

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Masterlist

art commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Wyll -

~ Wyll was suspicious of you in the beginning, as much as he hated to admit.

~ It changed when he heard how you went out of your way to save a little tiefling boy from a gaggle of harpies

~ After that, he paid a lot of attention with how different you were to the drows he had heard of

~ He asked casual questions about your background, not so subtly trying to figure you out

~ The longer he knew you, the more he took issue when people would lump you in with the drow stereotype

~ Instead of confronting people, he filled every conversation when meeting someone knew with little tales and jokes about how great you are. How the group would fall apart without your kindness in direction

~ “I wish the world would see you the way that I do.”

Karlach -

~ Karlach was one of the most non-judgmental people you knew. To the point that she was one of the first people to treat you no different to anyone else

~ It also took her a bit to see the difference in how others treated you

~ She couldn’t quite wrap her head around why people treated you like you were shifty, all she knew was sunshine and rainbows when you were around

~ It took you crying for the first time to really heat Karlach up

~ It had been a long day and a shopkeeper refused to sell you any healing potions. He thought you were going to poison them and resell them

~ All the stress of the day caught up with you as the shopkeeper yelled, tears stating to run down your face

~ Karlach ran red hot, flames jumping from her body as she got all up in the storekeepers face

~ You were able to leave with an armful of free health potions, a very warm kiss on your forehead, and a very smiley Karlach herding you back to camp

~ “Anyone ever talks to you like that again, you just come tell Mumma K”

Astarion -

~ Astarion actually had the nerve to be disappointed when he realized how sweet you were

~ Everyone in camp seemed to have such high moral standards, he was hopeful at least you would lean more towards debochary

~ The annoyance didn’t last long though, it was hard to have a frown when you were near by

~ He might’ve acted exasperated by you bringing home a new less fortunate every night, but he was all grins when you weren’t looking

~ It gave him some hope, seeing you break away what everyone thought you were

~ You had people from all angles acting like you were one step away from pillaging their home, but you never offered anything but kindness.

~ “You make me feel like I can be a good person, too.”

Lae’zel -

~ Lae’zel didn’t see much point in being overly kind, so you mostly just confused her in the beginning

~ She couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t just go along with the stereotypes. It would probably be easier in the long run

~ What she couldn’t understand even more, though, is why she felt anger every time someone spoke down to you

~ Often times, she’d have quite the strong words for whoever was insulting you

~ The days she were also the nights she spent trying to convince you to act meaner

~ She was convinced it was the only way you could make it through the journey without being attacked from every side

~ You simply shook your head and told her you’d always choose the gentle path

~ “Chhk. Fine. I will be mean enough for the both of us.”

Halsin -

~ Halsin was much too old to believe in most stereotypes. But even you surprised him

~ He often watched you in the evenings, watched how you interacted with the various critters you brought home

~ You were so gentle and attentive, you didn’t even know ‘Speak Animals’ but you understood them completely

~ It warmed his heart to see how nature and all it’s charges reacted to you, it genuinely seemed that even the birds were attracted to your presence

~ He couldn’t even take people seriously when they spoke down to you

~ Their opinions were meaningless to him because he just couldn’t imagine you being anything other than lovely

~ Instead of arguing, he’d shower you in compliments afterwards, always making sure to patch up any piece of your insecurity that they had left

~ “They may not know it, but I and nature can see what a blessing you are to the world.”

Shadowheart -

~ Shadowheart was annoyed with how quickly she came to love and trust you

~ Something about your smiles and attitude were absolutely infectious, and she wondered how you kept it up when everyone thought you to be evil

~ She was even more impressed with how you brushed off naysayers comments

~ She’d tease you pretty often, she was the one who started calling you “The Gentle Drow”

~ As much as she affectionately tease you, she absolutely hated when people tried teasing you back

~ Even if it was good natured, or even coming from a companion, the tease was met with a very harsh glare from Shadowheart

~ She would outright shush people you didn’t know if they tried to insult you. Usually people dropped their jaw at the interaction

~ “Speak ill of my friend again, and I’ll relieve you of the use of your tongue.”

Gale -

~ Gale was absolutely fascinated with you

~ He didn’t really have an expectation of you being horrible, but he found it interesting that ‘The Hero of Farun’ was such a gentle and shy clutz

~ He often spoke to you as if he was talking to a science project, trying to get to the bottom of what made you so kind

~ He was thankful you were, it reminded him about how much people could decide for themselves

~ It surprised him when people insulted you, he was mostly shocked people had the gall to say things to your face

~ He was even more taken aback when, every time, you let the comments go, offering only kindness in return

~ Gale quite enjoyed walking around in public with you, almost cataloging how you interacted with people

~ Anytime you looked particularly weary from the constant abuse, he never failed to offer a joke

~ Once, a kid ran past, pointing at you and yelling that you were here to pillage the town

~ Gale simply picked up the edge of your scarf and put on a stoic face

~ “Not to worry, citizen. My drow is on a tight leash.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

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daycourtofficial · 14 days

Text

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 13

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 1.8k | Warnings: none | Masterlist

Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.

Author's note: everyone say thank you to @sarawritestories for bullying me to get me to write and to @milswrites for the NEW HEADER LOOK IT'S SO PRETTY

Ten minutes to the dot from getting to your door Azriel was walking into your apartment with a bowl of popcorn and several bags of candy. He brought chocolates, gummy worms, cookies, and several other sweets in the crook of his elbow, several being held by random fingers. You really weren’t sure how he was carrying it all.

In your absence he also changed into some black sweatpants and a black tee, his arms flexed with all the snacks in his hold. He looked great at mini golf, but now he looked attractive in such a different way.

“What are you doing?” He looked a bit ridiculous, as if he just raided a candy store. He looked even more ridiculous trying to toe his shoes off before making his way over to you.

“I know you don’t have food here.”

“Yes we do - Cassian was supposed to go grocery shopping yesterday!” You whip your head to the kitchen, as if you could see the inside of your pantry from where you sat. “Besides I ordered a pizza.”

He gives you a look, “Cassian’s version of grocery shopping is stopping at our apartment and taking what he wants.”

Your eyes widen, “no he does not! He said he goes to the store for food.”

He scoffs, setting down the candy and snacks on the table in front of you, lining them all up so you could see the label on each bag, “the store of Rhys and Az, maybe. A 24 hour convenience store Cassian has a lifetime membership to.”

You think back to all the times Cassian told you he was going grocery shopping, but you’re not sure if you ever did see him come back with bags of groceries. All the food and supplies just showed up. “Well, I’m sorry he does that. It does explain his luxurious tastes though…”

“It’s fine,” he says sitting next to you, your legs touching. “Rhys’s dad pays for the groceries, so..”

His sentence lingers as he shrugs his shoulders. “It’s what’s worked for us for a long time. Rhys couldn't care less. Actually I think he prefers getting to spend money on us.”

“So things with Rhys’s dad are weird?”

“Uh, yeah, I suppose. His dad sucks. Gives Rhys a- basically an unlimited credit card. Rhys has played with the limits on it before. We all know he’s rich, we just don’t know how rich. He’s spent a ridiculous amount of money on that card with no response. Once he bought all of ours and Cassian’s furniture in one trip - bought ridiculously priced shit too. Didn’t even blink over it.”

He scoops up a handful of popcorn, popping some into his mouth. “Well, all the furniture except their ridiculously sized tvs.”

You giggle, grabbing the bag of sour candies he brought and opening them, popping some in your mouth. “Mm, you’re too good to fall victim to their childish antics?”

“I’m more evolved than them.”

“So it was a different Azriel that Cassian was talking about going racing with him on some backroads a few weeks ago?”

A beat passes and he refuses to look at you, his eyes straight forward. “I think Cassian has face blindness.”

“Oh yeah, mhm.” You pick up the remote, scrolling to look through potential movies to watch. “Maybe we should get a decal for your bike so he won’t get confused again. I’m thinking of something that makes you seem distinguished.”

“Oh?”

“Something that makes you seem intimidating.”

“something scary?” His eyes dance with amusement, crinkling in contained joy.

“Something terrifying. So they know you’re a menace.”

You scroll through the movie options, Azriel’s arm making its way across the back of the couch behind you. He spreads his legs a bit, and you nestle into his shoulder as you put on Jurassic Park, picking a movie you’d be okay with missing some parts to it.

The two of you had watched at least three quarters of Jurassic Park, several parts of the movie missed because the two of you couldn’t keep from making out on your couch.

You watched the entire trilogy, staying up late with him. By the time the second movie came on, the two of you talked through most of it, until you’d reach the scenes with the pterodactyls in the third movie. Then you had forced your hands over his mouth, not letting him talk over your favorite scenes. Once you had pulled them away, he immediately dove on top of you, pushing you into the couch and nuzzling his face into your neck.

The two of you stayed up until somewhere around 3 AM, the third movie long forgotten as you asked him to stay the night. Nothing happened, except you did wake up the next morning with his arm slung around your waist, making it very tempting to completely ignore your alarm clock.

Unfortunately, Azriel had work to do, kissing your temple before he snuck back into his apartment to get dressed.

He had been gone for all of twenty seconds when your phone buzzed and he asked if you’d like to get coffee the next day before class. Your classes lined up at the same time each day, so you two would meet up at a local coffee shop in the morning. You’d park your car in the grocery store lot afterwards, Azriel holding out his spare helmet for you before helping put it on your head before he’d zip you two through campus, one of his hands always on your thigh.

The two of you would separate once he’d walk you to your classes, and then you’d meet back up at the library. It was a bit concerning to you how quickly the two of you fell into a routine, most of your free time of the week either spent with him or texting him.

“I got you something.”

You rummage through your bag when Azriel walks up to the table, his jacket being thrown onto one of the extra chairs. He sets down his helmet as you continue your search. You slide the envelope across the table, his scarred fingers touching yours as he grabs it from you. He opens the envelope, pulling out the note.

‘To be more menacing’ is written on pink stationary, a sticker falling from the paper. He picks it up, a smile on his face as he turns the sticker in his fingers, the cartoon goose with a knife in his mouth looking back at you.

His smile is captivating in the harsh lighting of the library, the LEDs making his skin several shades too light.

But it made his smile all the more blinding.

“Thank you,” he slips the sticker into his jacket pocket, sliding into the seat across from you.

He pulled out his laptop, his bag neat and tidy, a far cry from Cassian’s paper cluttered bag. You go back to reviewing your notes, as Azriel begins typing on his computer. The silence is comfortable between you two, and as you feel it start to settle, Azriel’s foot grazes your own, sticking itself between your crossed ankles.

You peer at him across the table, but his tortoiseshell glasses don’t move towards you, his computer screen reflecting through them to show he was working on some form of coding you had no desire to understand. You smile back down to your books, trying to get all your work finished before Friday, the six of you spending the weekend at Rhys’s dad’s lake house.

Cassian had been moaning and groaning for several weeks about wanting to go to the lake, but Rhys’s dad was having renovations done on the house and on the private dock until roughly two weeks ago. Since its completion, Cassian has been relentless, worming the word ‘lake’ into every conversation he’s had, not being very subtle about what he wanted.

Every morning he texted your group chat about his ‘cornfLAKEs’ or about how he just loves ‘snowfLAKEs’. He had just run out of words two days ago and now resorted to making up words that had ‘lake’ in them. Rhys immediately texted everyone to ‘please for the love of my sanity, be available this weekend or else I’m petitioning we murder Cassian’.

None of you wanted to be stuck doing any kind of work this weekend - Cassian and Azriel already had the weekend off, Mor and Feyre were free, and your plans revolved around the work and the man in front of you. All of you were desperate to finish any work that was due on Monday before the six of you left.

“So this weekend.”

He holds up a finger, typing furiously before he stops, looking up at you. He closes his laptop slightly, pushing it away from himself.

“This weekend.”

You put your chin in your hands, looking at his tan face. You loved seeing him wear his glasses - they made him look so endearing and soft. “Are we um going to tell anyone before we go? Besides Mor, obviously.”

You had texted Mor at some point during the second or third movie, asking her if she had mentioned your date to anyone. She had said no and that she’d be willing to keep it that way if you remembered to thank her profusely for ‘setting you up on the best date of your life’.

You had agreed, but now this left you with a bit of a dilemma - when do you tell everyone? Does he want to tell everyone?

“You don’t understand how annoying they can get when it comes to my love life.”

You giggled, certain you could figure it out based on how nosey and meddling Cassian was.

He clears his throat, “besides I’d like to figure things out with you before they know. I don’t want them to scare you off.”

You laughed, “I walked in on Cassian trimming his toenails the other night. I think anything worse than that violates the Geneva convention.”

His smile is bright as he watches you giggle at your own joke. “How about this,” his hands move across the table, laying them palm up so you can sit yours into them. Your fingers lightly trace the lines on his palms as his voice picks up again. “I’ll take you out for lunch tomorrow, and it will be the official end of things… until we get back.”

You raise your brows, but he’s not finished. “Obviously, not really the end of things. But just.. We’ll come back from lunch as the people we were last week. Before mini golf.”

Your voice is a bit unsteady as you ask, “do you want to stay those people? The before mini golf versions of ourselves?”

“No.” His reply is fast, voice full of conviction.

“You’re not just saying this because Rhys’s lake house has a hot housekeeper, are you?”

He blows out his lips, laughing at your waggling eyebrows, “Sonya’s been about eighty years old for the past fifteen years.” His fingers quickly snatch yours, holding them tightly. “So she’s perfect for me.”

You throw your head back, about to laugh, but he pulls your fingers forward, bringing you in for a soft kiss you can’t help but giggle through.

Series taglist: @anotherbook-obsessedhoe @impossibelle @hayrunnwr @just-a-social-casualty-1 @thisisew @brieflyclassymortal @glitterypirateduck @marshmummy @bookishbroadwaybish @azsteris @doriansgf @footyandformula @mybestfriendmademe @od-anon @judig92 @luvmoo @marina468 @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @acotarobsessed @maryssong23 @acourtofbatboydreams @azrielover

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin

Thanks for reading <3

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #fourth floor #acotar writing #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #acotar series #azriel acotar #acotar

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victoria-grimesss · 2 months

Note

Hi! Can I please request hcs for Halsin and Astarion with plus size gn!reader who is self concious about their size (and are extremely anxious about clothes and food if thats not too much)? Completely understand if no, feel free to ignore 💚 Thanks!

Astarion & Halsin with a PlusSize!Reader (GN)

masterlist

->A/N: This turned out to be more of a Drabble and less of HC’s oops.

————

->Halsin:

Once you two are in an established relationship he would be tuned to your feelings and notice when your mood shifts and sours.

He would notice you paying more attention to your clothing and what you eat, at first he would be alarmed, not taking it lightly that you would restrict your meals. “My flower, our travels take us long and far, please let me know what ails you so I may see you well again.”

When the tears come to your eyes and your hands shake with your heightened nerves he would grow even more alarmed.

You would tell him all of your worries, and how they plague your mind day and night.

He would silence, your worry growing with each second of silence before his gentle reassurance graces your ears.

“You are beautiful to me, from sunrise to sunset I only think of you, your beauty ellipses all else and I’m sorry these thoughts make you think of yourself any other way. I have traveled and seen things far and wide, but you; you are nature's greatest gift to me, to the world. If I could manifest these terrible thoughts from your head and slay them myself I would for you. But know, you are beautiful as you are, I would ask for you no differently.

“I will help you work through these thoughts, no matter how long it takes.”

Your eyes are glossy, his sincerity seeping to your bones, “And what if it takes quite a while to quiet my racing mind?”

“My flower, you forget I am a Druid, I have lived a lifetime already and for you I would live a thousand more just to see you happy.”

->Astarion:

To speak plainly, Astarion is vain. He cannot see himself but he knows he is an attractive man that much is clear.

He would find you no different than anyone else, besides the fact that he loves you more than anyone else at this camp. And it turn, you would get to hear all of his daily complaints about the other companions.

He would come to you to complain when he would stop and notice you’re not listening at all. “Darling, you know it is rude to ignore someone when they’re talking to you.” He would be teasing but the words would flow over you like the wind.

The mirror by his tent had your attention, you glare at your reflection, your thoughts racing with the shadows of doubt.

“My sweet?” His hand touches your shoulder and it brakes the trance.

“Do you like how I look? Am I what you want?”

His heart would break at your voice, “Is that why you’re eating less? And here I thought the parasite was messing with you.” He means to lighten the mood but when you show no change he clears his throat.

“Of course I like how you look, I love it. Gods to be honest your the first person that I love everything about. It’s odd to love someone so strongly, I resisted it for a while, scared I’d lose you but I couldn't be without you or see you with another.

“You could have anyone”

“I could, but I only want you, as you want me. I will love you until I turn to dust and even then in the next life I believe I will love you. No matter how you look.”

He can be awfully sweet and poetic when he wants, almost makes your teeth hurt sometimes.

#bg3 x reader #bg3 headcanons #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #bg3 halsin #halsin x you #halsin x gender neutral reader #astarion x gn!tav #astarion x gn reader #astarion x reader #halsin x reader #Halsin x plus-size!reader #astarion x plus sized tav #bg3 #halsin x plus size!reader #halsin x gn!tav #astarion x gender neutral reader #bg3 tav

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tac-the-unseen · 1 month

Text

How COD characters react to you admitting you've faked an Orgasm

Angst with minor fluff

Note: There are many reasons someone might fake an orgasm. Someone could not be in the mood anymore, feel uncomfortable in the environment, get tired, and several other reasons. That is what this fic is about, not about 'weak dick game'

Ghost:

•When you dropped that bomb on him he froze. He didn't move, speak, or even blink. He just sat there, staring at you. His mind is racing. He always felt like a Shitty partner and he feels like this proves it.

•Once he found his ability to move he only took a breath. Then after a few seconds took your hand and looked into your eyes. You try to explain your reasoning but he still felt like shit.

•Finally he mutters softly "Why didn't you tell me?" He genuinely feels heart broken that he left you unsatisfied and you didn't voice it to him sooner.

•He sits down and has a long discussion about the why and how. He wants to know how to be a better partner and to make sure you're always comfortable telling him if you need more from him.

Soap:

•He thinks you're joking at first. He makes comments like "yeah right, totally." But once he finds out you're telling him the truth he freaks out.

•He grabs you and and almost crys. He feels like a bad partner and tries to come up with ideas on how to make sure you're alway satisfied with him.

•Sex becomes very different. He's constantly changing positions and asking if he's doing this right. Everytime you two get intimate he seems nervous and tries to solely focus on you.

Price:

•Stunned by the news. He stamers and look embarrassed. He stares at you like you grew wings and flew away. You can tell he's trying to keep his cool but it's not working.

•He buys you multiple gifts ranging from flowers to vibrators. While he does this you notice sex becoming less frequent and when you do have sex he seems less in it.

•When you ask about it he finally breaks down and cries. He says he feels like he can't satisfy you anymore. "What kind of boyfriend/fiance/Husband am I if you have to fake it just so you don't make me feel bad!?" After a talk he kinda gets over it but he doesn't like talking about it.

Alejandro:

•He also thinks your joking at first, but after you tell him you're not lying he stares at you. He starts to curse in both English and Spanish and gets upset. He throws a plate at the wall before slumping on the kitchen counter.

•"Why did you wait to tell me, mi amor!?" He says while not looking at you. When you explain he's quiet. After a while he asks how to make it up to you.

•You bet your ass he's going to pamper and worship you in anyway you please. Makes you promise to tell him and never fake an orgasm again.

Roach:

•He immediately hugged you and nuzzled into your neck. He let's you explain why you faked it and understands that it wasn't his fault. He thanks you for telling him and keeps close to you for the rest of the day.

•The next time you guys had sex he made sure you came several time. He has a little bit of doubt when it comes to his performance but over all just happy you told his so you could work it out together.

Gaz:

•Freezes up and after a minute he's leaves the room to be by himself for a while. He goes over every Sexual encounter he's had with you to try and figure out the when and why.

•Once he thinks he's got it he comes back to talk to you. He wants to know how to make sure you're satisfied. He seems to move on pretty quickly. But everytime you have sex he confirms with you that you at least orgasmed once.

König:

•He stares at you in shock like a deer in headlights before running aways. He hides in his room and has a anxiety attack. He feels like a horrible partner. All that runs through his head is the idea that you're going to leave him for someone that always satisfys you. It shatters his heart to know that he, at some point, neglected your needs.

•Once he calms down a bit he finds you and begs you to let him make it up. "I'll do anything, Schatz! Please I can be better!" You try and comfort him be he won't stop until you tell him what you want and/or need. It doesn't even have to be sexual related, just something to ease his mind.

Rudy:

•Is in denial. He doesn't want to hear it but you notice he takes more time to focus on your pleasure. Or at least, more than before.

•It secretly eats at him for weeks. This has never happened to him before. Then he starts to spiral. What if this wasn't the first time, just the first time someone's told him about it...he dies inside just a little.

Mace:

•He takes a second to soak in that information then he holds you tightly. He kisses you jaw and calmly asks if he can make up for those unsatisfactory nights.

•If/when you agree he gives you the best head of your life. He stays down there for what seems like hours. He checks in on you and apologizes every once in a while.

•After words once you two are ready you guys talk about proper ways you satisfy you and make sure you feel loved.

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nerdygaymormon · 7 months

Note

Didn’t he try to get his gay employee to marry a woman lol? I love him, he was a sweet, kind man, but also old and a lifelong Republican.

Most American voters register with one of the two major political parties. I don't know why Fred Rogers registered as a Republican, but what Republicans stood for in the 1950's & 1960's is very different from how we think of that party today. According to his wife, Fred was "very independent in the way he voted."

————————————————————

It is true that Fred Rogers encouraged a gay employee to marry a woman. I think it's an unfortunate part of his history, but I think it's helpful to fill in more of the story.

Francois Clemmons was hired by Fred Rogers to be the first Black person to have a recurring role on children’s television. He would be Officer Clemmons on the show Mister Rogers' Neighborhood, and he kept that roll for 25 years.

In his memoir, Officer Clemmons, Franc shares that one day in 1968, he was called into Fred’s office at the studio.

“Franc, we’ve come to love you here in the Neighborhood. You have talents and gifts that set you apart and above the crowd, and we want to ensure your place with us. Someone, we’re not able to say who, has informed us that you were seen at the local gay bar downtown with a buddy from school. Now I want you to know, Franc, that if you’re gay, it doesn’t matter to me at all. Whatever you say and do is fine with me, but if you’re going to be on the show, as an important member of the Neighborhood, you can’t be ‘out’ as gay. People must not know. … Many of the wrong people will get the worst idea, and we don’t want them thinking and talking about you like that. If those people put up enough fuss, then I couldn’t have you on the program. It’s not an issue for me. I don’t think you’re less of a person. I don’t think you’re immoral.”

Clemmons began to sob because he could only have the job only if he stayed in the closet.

If it had been known a gay man was a regular part of a children's show, it would've been cancelled. Remember, this is pre-Stonewall.

“You can have it all if you can keep that part of it out of the limelight. Have you ever thought of getting married? People do make some compromises in life.”

Francois Clemmons married a woman in 1968. In 1974 they divorced and Franc began living as an openly gay man.

Fred Rogers changed his advice, urging Clemmons to find a gay man he was happy with. He also stopped asking Clemmons to remain in the closet, and he warmly welcomed Clemmons' gay friends whenever they visited the television set. I've read that this change came from Fred getting to know and becoming friends with gay people.

—————————

Having a Black man as a police officer on the show was making a statement in support of Civil Rights. The most iconic encounter between Officer Clemmons and Mr. Rogers on the television show occurred in 1969.

At a time when many community pools were strictly segregated, Mr. Rogers invited Officer Clemmons to join him and cool his feet in a plastic wading pool. As Officer Clemmons was getting out of the pool, Mr. Rogers helped him dry his feet.

This exemplified the message that all people are equal and valued and loved

The core values of the television show were: Love your neighbor as yourself, be kind, say “I'm sorry,” smile, accept people and help them grow, be forgiving, see each day as a new chance to be happy, positive and kind. The show talked about grief, divorce, race issues and disability.

Fred Rogers' character regularly said, “there's no person in the whole world just like you” and “I like you just the way you are.” It was an example of radical acceptance.

In addition to Franc Clemmons, John Reardon is another openly gay man who regularly appeared on Mister Rogers' Neighborhood, so it seems Fred Rogers personally didn't have an issue with gay people, but having them be open on the show was not something possible at that time. I'm sad that an openly gay character never occurred on the show.

Fred Rogers shared that evangelicals would sometimes write to him asking him to condemn homosexuality, and he never would, instead saying he — and God — loved everyone just as they were. Since 1967, Fred and his wife worshipped at Pittsburgh’s Sixth Avenue Presbyterian Church which was a diverse, progressive church where women were equal, social justice was the theme, and since the 1960's has engaged in a ministry to gay people and was the first Presbyterian church to ordain gays & lesbians.

While he was not a public advocate for gay rights, his message of unconditional acceptance didn't exclude any genders, orientations or races.

#fred rogers

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lovewithmary · 8 months

Text

THE ENGINEER | MCU X FORMULA ONE CROSSOVER

summary: where max is less than pleased.

fc: gabbi garcia

author’s note: I know it seems like Max is going to be endgame, however I just wanted to show her and Max's friendship (or soon to be relationship). other drivers will be included soon, but you have to be patient

also send in stuff you want to see

A knock came from Viviana's hotel room and she knew based on the conversation she had with Max, it was him. She opened the door to see him holding one of his Red Bull shirts. "Come in," Viviana sighed, moving to give him more room to enter, to which he did.

"You know, there's other things to wear besides your Red Bull clothes," she said, as she entered the bathroom to change whilst Max sat on her bed.

"I know," Max replied, scrolling on his phone.

"Then why do you always dress like you're constantly going to a race? I helped you find a stylist to avoid dressing like you're always on the track, yet you still never dress different,"

"She always picks something that's either way too itchy or way too tight on me," Max argued.

"Which is why I got you some shirts from New York that you like. They're in my suitcase,"

Max walked over to the purple suitcase and crouched in order to unzip it to see a shopping bag. Assuming it was his, he grabbed it and opened it to see that they were, in fact, the shirts she was talking about.

Viviana exited the bathroom to see that Max was looking at the shirts. "I expect you to wear one of them to the yacht," she told him.

"What yacht?"

"The yacht I specifically bought so we can have a mini get-together and you can invite the other drivers. And I finally can say I have a yacht,"

"No. Absolutely not," Max shook his head.

"You are going to invite them Verstappen,"

"You can't make me, Stark,"

The two stared at each other for a while until Max groaned and blinked, making Viviana smile victoriously. "And make sure to tell the drivers with girlfriends to come as well. I want more female friends and I don't want the media to think I'm trying to collect drivers like it's Pokémon,"

twitter

viviana's phone call with her mom

"Anak, akala ko wala kang jowa?" I thought you didn't have a boyfriend?

"Oo, nga, wala akong jowa. Saan mo nalaman na may boyfriend ako?" Yeah, I don't have one. Where did you hear that I had one?

"Ang tatay mo, sabi niya," Your dad told me.

"Wag mo siyang pakinggan, tsismis lang yan," Don't listen to him, it's only gossip.

"Sayang naman. Kung jowa mo si Max, yung mga bata mo matangkad, matalino, at maganda pa sila," What a waste. If Max was your boyfriend, your kids could be tall, smart, and beautiful.

"Ma! Kaibigan lang kami," Mom! We're just friends.

"Kung hindi si Max, si Mick nalang." If not Max, how about Mick?

"Okay, busy dito. Kailangan ko nang umalis, mahal kita," Okay, it's busy here. I need to go, love you.

"Alam ko excuse lang. Hindi yung ikaw yung nagmamaneho ng kotse pero mahal din kita," I know that's just an excuse. It's not like you're the one driving the car but I love you too.

#f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #f1 x oc #f1 ig au #f1 oc #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x oc #f1 filo oc #filo smau

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chrisevansonly · 6 months

Text

𝐖𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐀𝐧𝐲 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬

𝐀𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐧𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: it’s the holiday season in monaco, but after news broke that arthur wouldn’t be back to F2 or Ferrari Driver Academy, he’s worried that you’ll be just as disappointed as the world is…

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: slight angst, mostly just arthur feeling a bit down, but very fluffy

𝐚/𝐧: my first arthur blurb🥹🥹 i just thought of this the other night and wanted to write a little something, it’s just a teeny one but i hope you enjoy!!

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

When the news broke that Arthur wouldn’t be returning to F2 it took over the internet by storm, opinions coming in from left and right, negative and positive. Arthur felt a bit overwhelmed, and was anxious to talk to you about it, you’d been one of the most constant forms of happiness and support in his life, since he started F2 to now.

He didn’t want to disappoint you.

“Baby, you’ve been really quiet all night…does this have anything to do with all that news online?”

Arthur didn’t want to be so reserved and down on the first night you flew in to spend Christmas with him and his family, he had plans to take you to dinner later, see the Christmas lights around Monaco and here he was not his normal laughing self

“I love you…I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me..” your voice was soft as you leaned over to kiss his cheek, your heart squeezing at the sadness behind his eyes

“I just-I don’t want you to be upset or disappointed with me”

Your brows furrowed, not understanding what he would be talking about

“Arthur I’d never be disappointed in you baby…”

“But i’m not racing next year…i’m just-I don’t know..I don’t want you to be upset with me”

Frowning you squeezed his hands gently

“Arthur I love you so much, it doesn’t matter if you’re a formula racing driver or if you were an english teacher or hell lived on a tiny farm and milking goats for the rest of your life”

He couldn’t hold back the laugh that spilled from his lips at the sound of that

“My point is, I wouldn’t love you less just because life is taking a different course and you’re not racing anymore, I love you for you, not for your career my love…and that will never change, I’m so proud of you always”

“Promise..?”

His voice was quiet, almost afraid to ask

“I pinky promise, i’ve been here to support you since day one, and I’ll continue to support you for as long as you’ll have me”

Arthur smiled bringing you in for a kiss before pulling you into his side, it might have been news that wasn’t the best to announce during the holidays, but he knew you’d have his back through anything.

It didn’t matter if he never raced again, you’d be by his side no matter what, he knew that deep down, but hearing the reassurance come from you was enough to settle the racing thoughts in his head, you knew just as much he’d do the same for you, always having your back when you needed it.

The only thing he’d never have your back on is Christmas baking, because just like his brother Charles, he was useless in the kitchen.

#rueswrites #ruesanswers #ruesanons<3 #ruesasks #rueschats💗#arthur leclerc x y/n #arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc x female reader #arthur leclerc x girlfriend reader #arthur leclerc fluff #arthur leclerc blurb #arthur leclerc drabble #arthur leclerc fanfic #formula 2 fic #formula 2 fan fiction

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nightpool · 2 years

Text

out of character for me, I wanted to make a bit of a PSA about something that I think most people in the ad industry are talking about, but hasn't really penetrated the public consciousness yet. Here it is:

Use a different email for every site you sign up for

You may or may not have heard about it, but browsers and operating systems are getting rid of tracking capabilities. This includes plans to get rid of third-party cookies and "consent based" access to advertising identifiers on iOS. These changes represent a large increase in privacy for casual internet browsing, but they force advertisers to look for new and sneakier ways to track and target people—in some senses, they are the "starting pistol" for the ad tracking arms race.

The most common and profitable replacement for many sites, including most social media networks, is so-called "first party identifiers"—that is, using the information that you provided to the website when signing up, like your email address or your phone number.

These first party identifiers are then shared with all advertisers, so that e.g. if you view an ad on tumblr.com, and you recently made a reservation on Airbnb with the same email address, or viewed a livestream on twitch, advertisers would have access to a "profile" of you that marked you as someone who might be interested in rentals, or as someone who might be interested in specific videogames, or streamers. This is most common right now with mobile apps, due to Apple's big IDFA push, and because it's easier to get users to sign up for an account and provide their phone number. (And possibly because there seems to be less oversight and publicity around mobile app tracking—it requires a much more specialized skillset and larger time investment to reverse engineer an app than it does to build a browser extension to track trackers). But these exact same tactics, once perfected in the mobile app ecosystem, are probably going to continue to show up on more and more web sites if and when browsers continue to remove advertisers' tracking capabilities for larger and larger numbers of users.

There is also very little visibility into how these datasets are managed. In theory, depending on the companies involved and the datasharing agreements, you might even be able to buy browsing history for a specific (known) email address—and without any of the individual companies involved having sold your data. These data sharing agreements are structured as advertising revenue for targeting, where advertisers will pay more money for ads with this first party data associated with it, but any advertiser who participates in these ad slot auctions gets notified that so-and-so's (hashed) email address viewed such and such a website at this particular time, and they could theoretically use that data for whatever purposes they wish (depending on the contracts they have with the advertising exchanges and data sharing providers in question).

Anyways, this has been on the horizon for a long time now, but it's becoming increasingly important and increasingly common. Use a different email address for every site you sign up for. Don't give people your phone numbers. Ask companies whether they use account data for ad targeting, and make a big stink about it when they do.

#i try not to make public posts about ad tech as a salve for my conscience #but i do think this information is useful to people #so i promise I'll try to continue to beat myself up the necessary amount

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screamingfromuz · 8 months

Note

People have tried a few approaches to get through to you. I'm going to try another. Why do you think this attack was such a surprise in Israel but not to anyone else on earth? When I ask people I know IRL (In the UK) about this, they say, "I'm shocked by what Hamas are doing but what did Israel expect to happen?" Outside Israel it's clear to everyone that the Gaza Strip situation was going to lead to something like this. You've known about Gaza your whole life, you've know that situation was festering for decades, so why the surprise? How did you think this would end?

i'm emotional, so you won't get a good well researched and structured answer, but an emotional ramble. but you don't want a well researched and organized answer, you want me to cave in call israel a monster colonizer and praise the "brave palestinian freedom fighters". fuck you. or say something you can use to prove how bad all israelis are and how good all palestinians are.

do you know what happened back in the 90s when the news of peace talk broke? the amount of attacks against Israelis grew, the death toll grew. in the four years after the accords the death doll doubled. Palestinian authorities celebrated that "israel gave so much without getting back like fools" and "the only good thing that came out of the accords was the intifada".

so I turn the fucking question to you? what is Israel supposed to do? who are we to talk to to reach peace? or should it dissolve? turn power on my life to people who stated they would like to kill or expel all the Jews? give more resources to a terrorist group? you saw where they put the money they get.

why the fuck do you think Israel exist? because we learned that we can never be free nor safe to be ourselves under the control of others. do you know that between 1948-1951 about 300000 MENA Jews became refugees? and the only reason nobody cares is because Israel took them in, while the whole arab world was happy to leave the Palestinians to rot. do you want a fucking list of every atrocity that was made during this conflict? because both sides have a very long one and the big difference is that Israel fucking won the 1948 war!

and of-fucking-coarse we knew something big was gonna happen! it was in the news for months! people have been screaming at the assholes in charge for so long! it doesn't make it less horrifying! it doesn't matter that we knew that Hamas are stealing all the recourse to make missiles and are going to take advantage of the chaos in israel, it doesn't matter that our extremists are feeding their extremists, cause IT DOESN'T MAKE IT FUCKING RIGHT! we knew Hamas will do some horrid war crime but didn't want to think that people will take whole cities hostage and kidnap and murder hundreds! nobody wanted it to become a fucking war you piece of condescending shit!

we wanted the sane people of both sides to take over and work together! we were hoping to use the near municipal elections to get people who support cooperative living in to the city councils so we can change stuff for the better and fight the anti peace movements of both sides! and maybe gain enough power so in the next parliamentarian elections we will get some decent people that would kickstart the peace process and support palestinian communities into the cabinet! do you know how hard we worked to support Israeli-Palestinian lists for the municipal races? how much effort is put by people to try and make things better?

so i'm gonna ask you again, what was Israel supposed to fucking do?

and If you say "to stop existing" I want you to know that you just exposed yourself as a supporter of genocide.

#israel #jumblr #ישראבלר #palestine #ישראל #antisemitism #I do not support all of isral's actions #but sometimes you have to understand why those choices are made #i am so tired #some of you are just...#stupid #tw war #tw war crimes #refugees #tw genocide #8/10/2023 #steal swords #2023 war

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moviecritc · 8 days

Note

Pato bestie but you can pick the plot 🧡

kiss me ⋆ pato o'ward

pairing: pato o'ward x reader

summary: after ending second at the indy500, you comfort pato which leads him to confess his feelings for you

word count: 628

warnings:

a/n: i know it's been ages, but i finally came up with this idea, i hope you liked it <3

english is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

Everyone was on edge when Newgarden overtook Pato less than two corners from the finish line. Pato's chances of winning the race vanished in a matter of seconds, and then Newgarden crossed the finish line with Pato arriving milliseconds later.

Both Elba and Y/N were there when it happened. Pato was thrilled that Y/N had come to the Indy 500 because it was the first time he had a high chance of winning, which made the second place finish even worse.

Seeing him get out of the car crying broke Y/N's heart. She had known Pato since they were 17 years old and had rarely seen him so devastated. When he got to the pits, they hugged for a long time, but couldn't talk much. Y/N let Elba, his sister, talk to him calmly and didn't see him again until they arrived at the hotel.

She was quietly in her room, waiting for news from Elba or Pato in case they still felt like going to the after party. Then someone knocked on her door. Y/N got up immediately, finding Pato on the other side.

"Hey, hi," Y/N went to hug him right away, pulling him into the room. "How are you feeling? Do you want something? We can order room service, they have literally everything." Y/N kept hugging him.

Her concern brought a small smile to Pato's face. "No need. And I'm a little better than before, thanks," he nodded, lowering his gaze.

Y/N knew Pato was embarrassed about how he had reacted after the race.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, right now I just want to be with my best friend, like always," he said, shrugging a little.

"That sounds perfect," Y/N smiled, putting her arms around Pato's shoulders. "There's a dozen little bottles in the minibar, grab them all."

In less than an hour, they had finished all of them. They were sitting on the bed, Y/N with her legs stretched out and leaning on some pillows and Pato in front of her, leaning on his hands. Neither of them was drunk, they had just drunk enough to speak freely.

"I'm going to order more," Y/N said, reaching for the room phone.

To her surprise, Pato stopped her, grabbing her arm. "I want to tell you something."

Y/N frowned, was what he had to say so important that they couldn't order more alcohol?

"You know you can tell me anything, Pato."

"It's just…" Pato was starting to get nervous. "You've been my best friend for too long."

Y/N could only laugh at how little sense Pato's words made.

"Are you drunk?" she said. "I thought you could handle more…"

Pato sighed and rolled his eyes before looking at her in a slightly different way than he had before.

"I'm not drunk, Y/N. I'm confessing."

Y/N took in those words, that thought had also been circling in her mind. She and Pato. Pato and her. They were very close friends, probably the best friendship she had ever had.

"It's just…" Pato continued, still without raising his gaze. "I can't stop thinking about you, Y/N."

The way he pronounced her name was completely different from other times. Something had changed, causing a totally different sensation in her body. Y/N gave a small smile before they shared expectant looks. Pato was fiddling with the cap of one of the bottles and Y/N waited for him to make the first move.

She leaned a little towards him. "Are you going to kiss me or what?"

Pato didn't waste any time.

#pato o'ward #pato o'ward x you #pato o'ward x reader #f1 #pato o'ward fanfic #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 one shot #f1 fluff #f1 fic #pato o'ward imagine #indycar #indy 500 #noraverse 🫧#po5 #po5 x you

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happysadyoyo · 7 months

Text

In theory, you understand that the human body is a bunch of electrical impulses running through a pile of organs, and that it's not that different from how technology works (a bunch of electrical impulses running through a pile of microchips and metal).

In practice though, in practice you're not sure how you've ended up like this.

"Oww..." Stupid fucking animatronics, stupid fucking Moon messing with you while you're trying to change out a flickering bulb. Maintenance isn't even part of your job description, but the STAFF bots can't reach this high and seriously, fuck management and fuck Moon.

At least you seem to be in one piece. Your mind is racing, panicking, and you sit up from where you fell, rubbing at your face. Clang. What? You pat your face, hearing bells, and definitely not feeling a human face. You're not even sure if you're feeling anything at all. There's pressure, but no real sensation beyond that touch.

You open your eyes and immediately fall back. As if that would let you escape the HUD overlaid on the entirely too bright nightscape around you. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck

There's a groan and your head jerks towards the ladder. It'd fallen in the explosion, and there's a person laying with their legs tangled in the metal. Wearing a security guard uniform. And the hair is a familiar color. The HUD lights up, helpfully identifying the figure as they roll onto their back, blood smeared over their face. It's your name.

"What happened?" Your voice too, as the figure pushes themselves up. They stop like you did, and you watch as it takes in the very human hand they were balancing themselves on. You look down, seeing long, delicate blue and gray fingers instead of your own flesh and blood. Bells tied to your wrist ring gently as your non-existent gut drops. "What in Fazbear..."

A hand grabs your wrist, your hand, Moon's wrist, what is happening, and you're jerked closer to your own face. You look furious despite the blood, and your HUD gives you the less than helpful information that the security guard has a potentially broken nose and a large laceration just under their hairline. "What did you do to me?" Moon growls in your voice.

"What did I do?" Moon's voice trips you up and you fall silent, desperately trying to process how you could speak without breathing and you weren't breathing holy fuck

There is too much information flitting through your mind all at once and you are still being bombarded with the fact your body is injured. Your body, the meat and guts one.

"Yes what did you -- ow!" Moon lets you go to press a hand to his eye. The blood had finally gotten to it, and you wince in sympathy. "I'm bleeding."

"Well yeah," you say, and you're definitely not thinking about how you're talking. "You... I... You fell ten feet off a ladder. You're lucky you didn't break a leg."

"That is not what I'm talking about. Why are you in my body? Where's Sun?"

Oh, he's right. Where is Sun? The thought brings up a lot of information, from the actual star in the galaxy to an old set of programs from the theater, but there's no Sun in your head.

"He has to be in there." Moon is either reading your mind or has decided that you're especially stupid now that you're trapped in his body. Either way, he's talking and standing, a little wobbly when all the blood that's left through his head decides not to miraculously reappear. "Stand up. I'm not dragging you."

"How?" slips out before you can catch it. Moon laughs, and it sounds mean coming from your throat. You want to swallow or swat at him or both, but you can't do the former and just barely manage to avoid the latter. You manage to stand and follow, feeling rather tall. Is this how it felt to not be the shortest person in the room? It's kinda nice.

"Go," Moon orders when you stop just outside the daycare. "We are bringing Sun out. He'll know what to do." He shoves at you, smearing blood against the heavy material of your pants. It's smeared over his face as well, and he looks pale under the mess.

"Maybe you should sit. You've lost a lot of blood." Unbidden, inventory of the daycare comes up in your mind, helpfully informing you of the first aid kit and apple juice tucked away from curious little hands. "I can... Clean you up?"

"No. Sun." Moon shoves you inside with all his strength, and you stumble forward, tripping over the upturned ends of your slippers. Moon slaps the wall behind you and the lights of the daycare flicker to life.

The change is uncomfortable, like someone is scratching at a chalkboard inside your mind. You drop to your knees, groaning as Moon's hat retracts, Sun's rays unsheathing. You want to close your eyes but you can't. You have no eyelids, no easy escape away from reality. And when the change stops, you find a new set of instructions thrumming just under your conscious thought, all the tasks and lists and other things about running the daycare at peak efficiency and with the cheapest labor possible.

But Sun isn't there.

"Sunny?" Moon's words falter in your voice, and when you look his way, you can see the fear in his face. Of course. Moon wouldn't be used to having a face that could emote. Something flickers in your mind. Sympathy? No, more likely it's some part of Sun's coding urging you to ease a human's pain.

"Not here," you say, and there is a tiny amount of satisfaction at seeing his face fall. "Are you sure he didn't follow you into my body?"

"I don't heaf him," Moon says, but you roll your eyes. Or. You think you do. Sun doesn't have pupils or irises. Maybe that's been taken from you too.

"He doesn't come out in the dark." You grab Moon by the front of your shirt and drag him out of the shadows as he gives the most undignified yell.

You toss him directly under one of the lights, flinching as he doesn't catch himself and instead goes rolling across the hard rubber mats. Okay, so you are strong like this. Probably shouldn't be such a surprise. Still, it is just a little funny watching your body rag doll around. You just hope it won't hurt anymore once you're back in it.

"You good?" You ask, squatting next to your body. You pick up a wrist, and your HUD changes to reflect the heart rate of your body. It's pounding away in there, so Moon is still clearly alive. You roll him over, watching as he blinks blearily in the light. "Hello?"

"Hello," he says, shielding his eyes from the light as he sits up. He blinks, adjusting to the change, before staring at his hand. He flips it over, staring at his palm, then back again before grabbing at his clothes. "Moony, what did you do?" He asks and. Ah.

"Sun," you say with a sigh, and fall back onto your animatronic ass. Oh, right. You'd been squatting. "Moon was looking for you. Guess you're in there with him."

"What's happened? Why are you me? Why am --- am I bleeding?" He touches the tacky blood matt that's become of your eyebrow, recoiling in disgust and fear. He turns wide, wide eyes to you. You grimace. You recognize that look.

"I don't know," you say flatly. "I was on a ladder changing out one of the lights near the arcade when Moon decided to be a little shirt and got us both electrocuted. I woke up like this."

"Oh." Sun frowns and closes his eyes, leaving you to wonder what he was trying to do. Whatever it was, it wasn't working, and when he rubbed at his face, he flinched. "Can you help with this?" Sun asks, gesturing vaguely to the cut.

"I don't---"

"It's in your programming," Sun said, standing with more grace than you or Moon have managed this far. "Just access the file and you'll be able to stitch this closed."

"I'm sorry. You want me to stitch my own face shut?" You trail after him as he goes to the cabinet and pulls out the first aid kit.

"it's just a simple task. No more difficult than sewing a ripped seam back together." He hands you the kit, trying to sit in a kid sized chair before giving up and sitting on the table (visibly uncomfortable) instead.

"Just a simple task," you grumble at the kit, opening it with one hand. You don't have to ask how to retrieve a file at least. When you pick up a needle, you're bombarded with different methods of sewing a human's skin back together. To put it inelegantly.

Sun waits for you, leg bouncing rapidfire even as you kneel. You grab his knee and squeeze until he legs out a squeak of discomfort. "Stop that. I'm not going to poke out my own eye because you're anxious."

"Sorry." Pause. "Sorry," he repeats, more softly.

You don't reply, needing to focus on the directions that are bypassing conscious thought into action that your body takes while you scramble to keep up. You clean the wound, ignoring as Sun hisses in surprised pain, then pinch the wound shut. The needle is pre-threaded and sterile, and you make surprisingly small, neat stitches with the black thread, snapping it off and dropping the needle back into the box to dispose of later. You only need a small bandage to cover the stitching and then... You're done.

"Well shirt." You cock your head, confused. "Shirt. Fazbear. Birch." You pull at your faceplate, like you can physically drag the words out of your mouth. "Why the Fazbear can't I say shirt?"

"Bad language is prohibited in the daycare." Sun sounds tired, and when you glare at him, he is poking at the bandage. You grab his hand and force it down. That damned leg starts bouncing again.

"Okay fine. How do we switch back?" Sun stares at you. You stare back. "Well?"

"How would I know that?" Sun asks and you sigh, going to run a hand through your hair. You hit a ray instead. "Do you see anything in your programming that can help?"

"I can't see shirt." If you could, you would rip out this stupid censoring first. "Moon said you would know."

"Well, I don't. And this isn't good. The kids will be here in... in..." There's no clock in the daycare and you watch as Sun realizes that he doesn't have his programming anymore. No internal clock. No database of information that enabled you to sew your own flesh shut. He jumps up and all but runs to the security desk. You follow after, watching as he catches himself, freezing before he could reach for the phone.

"What?"

"I'm not supposed to go behind the security desk."

You snort, shaking your head as you reach past him and stop, hand frozen. With a frown, you try to push past, but it's like shoving against a wall. There's no movement. Sun is watching and he slowly reaches past you, hand shaking as he pulls the phone display over.

"This is Fazbear stupid," you grumble, letting your hand drop.

"The kids are going to be here in an hour!" Sun is on a completely different level, and he turns to run and do something, no idea what, because he promptly trips over your own shoelaces. And of course he doesn't try to catch himself. If your nose isn't broken by the end of the night, you're going to be shocked.

With a sigh, you go and pick him up with a grip on the back of his shirt. "Okay, we've got an hour. It's time to learn some human 101 so you don't get my body killed before we can fix this tonight."

---

Okay anyway, this is why I sent you the ask @pillowspace. I think I'm going to open my askbox to prompts too because holy shit I felt my blood pressure drop while writing this.

I also used The Good Place curse substitutions except for Fazbear cause I think they did it best and also FE wouldn't pass up a chance for free promotion.

#dca #body swap au

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