#working class nothings to be used abused and thrown out

[on-a-lucky-tide]

I just really fucking hate how twn has worked so hard to reinstall the toxic masculinity into the Witchers. They just went ahead and shat all over the opportunity to construct a sensitive examination of the working class man, their trauma, their vulnerabilities, their flaws and their goodness.

Their honest to fuck goodness.

You know, the men who smile at a little girl to make her feel at ease, the ones who discuss the women and children left behind by war for the monsters, the ones that Ciri thinks fondly of at her lowest.

I really hate the twn interpretation of them . Gives me the ick. Especially when the fucking upper class villains/aristocracy get their storylines sanitised and uwu-ified for sympathy. Are you shittin' me about Eredin right now?

Yes. Feel sorry for the rich elf dude, but those orphan Witchers that were stripped from their homes and experimented on? Nah man, they're just drunk, sexist dudebros in it for le coin. The first one? Yeah, his sob story is he got caught fuckin the wrong person, lololol.

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

Reign down on me - Part 1

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

-🐺-

The sky was dark and sheeted in heavy fog by the time that Ghost had finally come for you. It was the first time you’d seen the man in the skull mask, but not the first you’d heard of the name of his Captain. Your ears twitched at the familiarity as he spoke it, his gravelly voice sending shivers down your battered back. 

“I’m here on behalf of Captain John Price, he called ahead about the hybrid.”

You’d lifted your numb head from the concrete floor when you realised you recognised that name, painfully craning your neck just to see who’d spoken it. You tried to work the stiffness from your muscles, popping joints and rolling them as far as your bounds would allow. Water was tumbling off you like a dam all the while, creating little murky puddles all around you. Despite the flimsy tin roof above, the rain had been relentlessly blown onto you for most of the day.

As usual it was your fault you were suffering, you knew well enough you could’ve avoided the punishment. You could’ve chosen to suck up your pride. Though as your mind cycled back through the day, you wondered if maybe it was all inevitable. Perhaps they pushed you as a way of giving a last sordid goodbye gift. 

A morning lashing followed by the announcement that you were being transferred to an unnamed team, being sent off to pack up your meagre possessions, finished off by a full day tied up and abandoned on the floor of the outdoor kennels. Somewhere through the first few hours of being left there you’d begun to feel a tiny spark of anticipation at the idea of being taken away. You’d wondered if things might be better somewhere else. 

However when the mysterious man strode into your line of vision, you were right back to feeling hopeless. Every inch of the unyielding cold was digging it’s way into your aching bones, but even through that you were shivering now at the idea of being taken away by him. He was a giant, all shadows and wide angles, black cloth with a stab of white around his face. You fixed your sights onto his mask and felt your teeth almost shatter as you realised it was a skull. Was this big terrifying bastard your new handler? 

“Ah, yes…Lieutenant,” there was an awkward pause, the handler clearly felt much the same as you about the behemoth. “Just over there. You’ll have to fill out some paperwork before you leave with it, but you can have a look first and decide if you want to finalise the decision.”

The man nodded and gave a grunt, his eyes narrowing at the mention of paperwork. Oh great, you thought, he’s pissed off and now he’s about to come meet me. There was no escape from him though. You were completely trapped, hands bound tightly behind your back with thick corded rope and legs similarly tied. There was nothing for it, but to wait for him to realise that the pathetic wolf staring up at him was the one he was getting stuck with. 

“This wolf’s been serving out the last of its punishment today,” the handler said, running a nervous hand over his stubbly blonde head. 

You glared at him, throat tightening as you valiantly repressed a growl. He’d always been an asshole to you right from the very start, he revelled in the chance to pull you down a peg or twelve, and that day he’d really outdone himself. He’d hit you with the leather strap until his veins were popping out of his ridiculously oversized arms and then he’d sneered all the way through tying you down for the day. He’d been taking particular joy in telling you ‘act like a bitch, get treated like a bitch’ before leaving you stuck there.

While most soldier hybrids were treated comparatively well, given the nature of the work you did, the base personnel took particular exception to you. Right from the very start, from the day you’d been dumped there as a mere child you’d been marked as the black sheep and there wasn’t a single day that you weren’t reminded of your lack of favour. You’d arrived a shitty kid with a chip on their shoulder and come through it a shell of that past self, never quite escaping the claws of your contentious past.

You were thinking about just how many times you’d been left to rot in that exposed kennel when you finally locked gazes with the Lieutenant. You wondered how he’d see you through those cold unblinking eyes as they peered at you through the front bars. Would he want to hurt you too? 

Of course he would, you thought, they all do. 

“Why’re they tied like that? What sort of punishment is this?”

You jumped at the harshness of his tone. There was a knife edge drawn in it, meant to preface an attack. 

“It’s our version of a time out. Although with the amount this one’s been in here it’s more like a permanent residence.”

You huffed out a breath, watching as the man puffed up his chest. A useless inflatable shield. He wasn’t going to fold and pretend that he wasn’t being harsher than normal to you. He was quite happy to let the other man believe that you were deserving of the treatment. In fairness you had bitten him not long after you’d come back from your last mission, you’d been out of patience and he’d crumpled the last straw in your back. 

“And how long has this timeout been?”

The way the Lieutenant spat the word, it dripped into your ears like venom. You winced as you watched him fold his arms and openly glared at the handler now, sending the other man stuttering backwards a foot or two. 

“Only a half day, Lieutenant,” the handler faltered. 

“Fuckin’ hell, you trying to kill them before they go? What are we meant to do with a half drowned wolf, eh? Its been raining all day, they’re soaked and shiverin’ like a fuckin’ newborn, how the hell do you justify that?”

“You have to appreciate that this is a-”

“I don’t have to appreciate anything. Get that door open now!” the Lieutenant ordered, interrupting the fumbling mess in front of him. 

The handler visibly paled and suddenly thought better of trying to justify his work. He shakily got to work rattling his keys into the door, and yelped when the masked man shouldered past him, staying firmly planted outside while your cell was invaded. 

You whined when his shadow descended on you and tried to pull away, attempting to try and get into a better position to fend off any attacks. However he was on you before you could so much as shift a muscle. 

His gloved hands were quick to undo the knots keeping you pinned down and even quicker to trap you to the ground when he noticed you squirming and splashing your hands through puddles just to get away from him. It was like being held by a stone statue. He was relentless, keeping you pasted down to the floor before dragging you against him and rubbing those solid hands of his up and down your sides, willing your circulatory system to jump into a sprint. 

Your energy was too busy being directed to your head though. The jolt of human touch was nothing like you were used to, and knowing who it was coming from was enough to send you into overdrive. His warm hands and rough voice left impressions up your spine and in your head, his scent burned in your lungs. Notes of spicy orange peel and gunmetal wafted around your head, somewhere faintly you swore you detected traces of cigar smoke.

Suddenly you were thrown back to being sent out on a mission with Price, he wasn’t so bad to work for, he’d treated you well enough and even gotten some food for you afterward. It made you wonder if maybe the big man he’d sent wasn’t so bad too. Not that you’d treat him as anything other than a threat for the time being of course. 

“You with us, darlin’?”

You jumped when you realised he was finally talking to you. Your eyes connected with his, landing on those stormy blue irises before you let loose a growl. You couldn’t help it this time. Your body was kicking into its usual instincts in lieu of having any idea of how to act. Those same instincts had you flinching straight after, waiting for the retaliation. 

“None of that now,” the man chastised softly, “C’mon, stop your growlin’. You’ve gotta warm up, pup, don’t fight me.” 

Where most handlers would have slapped you or kicked you or even cuffed you round your big fluffy ears for all the noise you’d made, this man didn’t even huff at you. He just continued to rub your arms and legs and tried to coax the curl out of your shaking tail. Your usually silvery fur was drenched into a damp grey and clung wetly to his gloves as he ran his hands through it.

“Leave my tail alone!” you snarled, finally breaking free of the spell you were under. 

Your tail had been snapped and broken enough times that it was stuck permanently lopping to the right. You weren’t going to let him do any worse to it. You attempted to twist and break yourself out of his hold but the man was steadfast in keeping you locked against him. His hands fastened to your waist and back and unfortunately pressed harshly against a big welt that scorched you as soon as his fingers pressed there. You howled out a scream in response.

“Hey! Hey, easy now. Stop, I’m not trying to hurt you. Keep still. Easy!”

As if you’d listen to him. You thrashed about to no avail, breathing harshly as you fought through the bubble of anxiety that enveloped you. Your lungs were working so hard to pump that you distantly worried they might explode. Every cell in your body struggled against the masked man, but no matter what you did you weren’t a match for him in your weakened state. 

“Fuck sake, stop standing there being useless and get me a towel,” the Lieutenant shouted over you, calling over to the handler. 

“You actually want it?” The handler questioned, his face a picture of horror as he watched you screaming like a banshee against your prospective new leader. 

“Well I’m not leaving them here to freeze, am I? Get me that towel and tell your superiors to mail the paperwork, we’re leaving.”

“It’s not standard policy to-”

“It's not standard policy for me to rip your spine out your throat, but I just might do it,” Ghost threatened. “Go!”

…

You’d been bundled into a car not long after that, pinned fast to the Lieutenant’s front like a half-dead butterfly. After struggling for a good ten minutes with him, wrestling to keep the towel off you, you finally gave in. Being so good as to allow him to wrap you up and dry you off, roughly sweeping the fabric over the worst of your drowned tail, ears and hair before situating you in the back next to him. The driver started the car and got to moving without a word.

You sat ruefully folding your arms over the soaked towel, hair and fur poking in all directions, watching as your old base faded to a pin prick in the distance. The smell of your damp clothes drying was turning the air stale, but you could hardly focus on that as your mind tried to make sense of everything that had happened. That and your smarting back as it burned against the hard cushioning of your seat. 

Meanwhile the Lieutenant’s voice was a gruff murmur as he spoke to his Captain, he was quietly updating him on the situation. You didn’t really bother to listen, ears pinned to the back of your head as you tried to figure out how to proceed with your new and strange circumstances. 

Most hybrids would eventually be chosen to permanently join teams, but there’d never been any interest for you before. Plenty of Captains would praise your skills and openly admire the work you did, but you were very purposefully told after every time that they’d take a look at your disciplinary file and go running for the hills. It made you wonder what Price had seen in you. You weren’t even convinced you’d been that impressive given you were only assigned to him for a tracking mission. You hadn’t even brought anyone down or had to push yourself very hard at all, you’d only needed to locate his man and report back. 

“Hey Ghost, should I turn up the heat?” 

Your eyes flashed to the rearview mirror, catching eyes with the driver that had broken the silence. He watched you back unflinching. Ghost? You turned and faced the man next you, tilting your head when he looked up at the driver. 

Was his name really Ghost? 

“Your wolf’s shaking,” the driver continued. 

You locked eyes with Ghost again, feeling your heartbeat more than you’d ever had in your life. It felt like it’d been locked in a cage barely big enough to fit. Your tail curled when he ended his call and turned his attention solely on you.

Interrupting the higher ups was never a good thing. You gulped. 

“You still cold, pup?” He asked softly. 

You frowned at him, feeling your ears peek up at the repeated use of the nickname. You were long past being a ‘pup’ anymore. Though for some reason it didn’t feel as patronising as it should’ve. 

“I’ll be fine, sir,” you said, answering stiffly. 

“Didn’t ask if you’d be fine, I asked if you were cold.”

You flinched at his words, already knowing you must be drawing out his ire. It wouldn’t be long before had you back at whatever base he was taking you to and was tying you up to a disciplinary post, you thought grimly. In most cases you knew you could bear the punishment and would quite happily spurn him, but knowing the full size of Ghost you weren’t so sure you’d walk away quite as well as normal from that one. 

You thought carefully before answering him again. 

“I am a little cold, sir,” you shrugged. 

He nodded and motioned for the driver to go ahead and soon the car was filled with warmth, your shaking subsided but didn’t cease. It wasn’t all due to the cold. 

To make matters worse that wasn’t the end of the interaction with Ghost either. Now that he was off the phone he was giving you a proper look over. It felt as if he were assessing every inch of you while you stared back at him, willing yourself to keep your eyes from naturally casting down. Did you measure up to his expectations? 

“Are you ok?” he asked, breaking the bubble of silence that had enveloped you. 

You frowned. What did he care?

“Fine, sir?” 

“Are you asking me if you’re fine?” he snorted. 

You could see the twinkle of a smirk in his eyes. The corners were pulling upwards and you swore you caught a twitch of a smile behind the black material of his lower mask. 

“Do you care either way?” you asked, raising your brows at him. 

He lost his smile at that. 

“I appreciate honesty, pup.”

That was it. He snapped the tether to the tiny frightened wolf inside of you that begged you not to antagonise him and finally, you felt brave enough to push. The real animal inside was allowed to bark and howl uncontrolled. 

“I’m being taken away to god knows where by Mr.Bonejangles and now he’s asking me to be honest with him after I’ve spent the whole day out in the elements with a whipped back. How do you think I’m doing?” you growled.

Now that the heat was properly thawing you out, you were feeling every ounce of your irritability spark to life. Even while you waited for some kind of reprimand, you held firm through your tensed muscles. If he hit you then you would do everything not to flinch from it. 

Test me, asshole. Just do it. You won’t see me break.

He didn’t lash out at you though, he’d already proved he wasn’t like your handlers at your base, but this more than confirmed it. Instead he took a breath and kept his measured gaze on you, letting you know that he was perfectly in control of the situation. 

“My name’s Ghost. I’m taking you down to London, and you’re going to join the 141 with me as your handler. You’re going to be serving under John Price, you did a mission with him and Kyle Garrick about a month back. Do you remember them?” Ghost said, his voice even and clear. 

You blinked back at him, not even bothering to hide your surprise that he’d wanted to give you answers to the questions you clearly had. Now you were truly curious. It wasn’t often that anyone bothered to fill you in on what was happening, you were usually expected to just accept whatever happened and to keep quiet even if you couldn’t. Ghost actually wanted you to talk to him.

“Price is the one with the dodgy beard. And Garrick… he’s called Gaz right? The Sergeant?” you said slowly, still not quite believing you were being engaged with. 

Ghost huffed out a laugh. 

“That’s right. You’ll see them again in the morning, and you’ll get to meet Sergeant MacTavish as well. For tonight all you gotta worry about is getting clean and fed and having a decent night’s sleep. We’ve got a few hours till we get to the base though, so for now you can ask me whatever you like.”

You tilted your head at him and immediately got to work testing this new boundary of yours. Your ears were perked up like antennas as your brian buzzed with activity. You’d never been in a position to ask whatever you’d liked before. 

“Why’re you wearing that mask?” 

He rolled his eyes at that, causing you to shrink back. Ok, so maybe you weren’t really going to get to ask whatever you liked. 

“Gotta hide how handsome I am,” he said, leaning back in his chair and giving you an amused side eye.

You snorted at that and unclenched your hands, letting your sharp nails come away from the chair before it tore. A smile even curled its way onto your lips. 

“Not because you’re an ugly bastard then?” 

“Negative.”

You snorted again.

“So lets see, I apparently have a model handler and a new and very experienced team that I have the honour of being express delivered to. You’re letting me speak more than any of those bastards ever did in a whole day and you’ve not punished me once yet. I can’t help but wonder why you’d choose me for this, especially after you saw me back there,” you said, pursing your lips as if you might come to any conclusions on your own. “Anyone would tell you I’m a liability, but you still took me anyway. Why?”

Ghost raised his brows under the mask, the blackout makeup below shifted and you swore you could make out some of his exposed pale skin out of the corners. You watched him intently, trying to make out any hint of insincerity or anger where there was none. 

“Price said you were good. I trust his instincts.”

“No questions asked?”

“None,” he confirmed.

“Even after seeing my disciplinary record?”

“It raised a few eyebrows on the team, but Price was happy enough with what he saw on the field that he wanted you as long as I did too. And like I said, I trust him,” he sighed when he met your eyes and you still weren’t convinced. “Besides, your record’s a shit show from base but you’ve been getting consistently solid reports back for the last ten years you’ve been getting sent out. I’m willing to bet that that stunning display of incompetence I saw earlier was probably a good indicator of why you’ve not been performing very well at home.”

“Stunning display of incompetence,” you repeated, not able to help the bark of laughter you let loose afterward. 

“Exactly, pup,” Ghost smiled.

You felt something inside you dislodge, like a brick had come out of the fortress you’d built around yourself. While you weren't rushing to fawn over your new handler, but you were willing to offer him more than just your contemptible obedience. Something about that sent a small shiver down your back, but even still you were able to lie back in the chair and let it leave you. 

You didn’t have it in you to ask anymore questions after that. Your head was an overspilling cup already, you didn’t want to drown yourself with anymore knowledge. So instead you let the easy silence take over and looked off into the distance, watching with heavy lids as the car tore through fields and towns in equal measure. 

Your eyes kept closing in a series of syrupy slow blinks, one second you were driving through a hedgeway of trees and the next you were in open blue fields of sky darkened wheat. Somewhere down the line your eyes closed for the final time and you gently arrived into a dreamless sleep, letting the darkness and warmth envelop your aching body. 

…

You had the feeling that you were being lifted. The sudden shift in the air from warm to cold paired with the sensation of being jostled was enough to tip you over the edge of consciousness. In seconds you were looking for something to attack. 

Your eyes snapped open and you went in for a bite, just about to close your teeth around an arm when that same appendage snapped back and fastened your neck against a hard wall of muscle behind you. You growled and panicked, heart hammering and body struggling in a flash of snapping canines and flailing limbs. 

“Hey! Stop your nonsense.”

You stilled at the words, instantly recognising the rough manc accent that they’d come from. You breathed a little and came back to yourself, remembering that you weren’t at your old base anymore and you weren’t being captured by an enemy either. You were being taken somewhere new, not a base or a prison or a kennel, you were being brought toward a bungalow. 

“Where are we?” you asked feebly, frowning at your unfamiliar surroundings. 

“Just outside the base, darlin’,” Ghost rumbled. “This is my home, for now.”

“Why are you taking me to your house?”

You angled yourself against Ghost’s tight hold and frowned up at him, searching his face for any sign of bad intention. You’d invaded houses as part of your job, but never had you stayed inside one since you’d lived with your family. You couldn’t understand why he’d want you to live with him when you knew as well as he did that there were specialised barracks for hybrids in every military base. Why would he want his work invading his personal space? 

“I don’t want you staying at the base until you’re more settled,” Ghost said, pulling one of his hands from you so that he could get his keys out his pocket. “You can choose to stay there if you want after the first few weeks, but until then you’re staying here with me.”

Your ears flickered as the loud jingling of his keys rattled through them and you whined, oversensitive and overtired. He let his remaining arm relax around you and held you close to his chest, shushing you all the while. His spicy aroma filled your senses again and you let your whines die down to low whimpers, hoping that he’d just put you down and leave you alone soon. 

“Sh, It’s ok, pup. I know it’s been a long day, but I just need you to hold on a little longer, alright?”

You nodded and let him carry you through the doorway and down a dark hallway, setting you down on a cool tiled floor before turning on the light. You glanced up at him sheepishly and blinked furiously at the bright blue bulb, having to rub your eyes before you could properly check out your surroundings. Once you rubbed the sleep from them you realised you were in a bathroom.

“You think you can shower yourself and get changed into something for bed?” he asked. “I can run you a bath and help you wash if you need?”

“No, shower’s fine,” you said quickly, not wanting to go through any further humiliation.

“Good, I’ll leave your things for you here and let you get on with it then,” he said, setting down the hold all you’d packed just next to you. “There’s a clean towel there on the rail for you, the blue one. Once you’re clean and changed you can come to the kitchen and get some dinner. It’s just at the end of the hall.”

You checked to your right and sure enough there was a clean fluffy towel waiting right on the heated rail for you. Ghost nodded and took himself out of the room, closing the door with a soft snick and leaving you alone for the first time since he’d picked you up. 

You shivered and chanced a look at yourself in the bathroom mirror, quickly averting your eyes when you realised just how pathetic you looked. Your hair was a mess, your fur was thick with matts and your skin was plastered with dirt. You were a sore sight. You growled at yourself for getting into such a state and stalked into the joint bath and shower, not bothering to wait for the water to heat before yanking the shower on. 

Cold water jetted out and shocked you into awareness, drawing out another low whine until it started to heat up, letting you properly set to work washing all the filth away. There were a couple of bad matts that came out in thick clumps, but other than that you were glad for the shower, pleasantly surprised by how warm it could go. The heat bled through your skin and into your tired muscles and before long you were just standing there enjoying the water, already done with washing yourself. 

You didn’t want to push your luck though. So with an unwilling jostle from your survival instincts you turned the shower off and got yourself out, not wanting to risk Ghost barging in and asking what was taking you so bloody long.

Soon enough you were finding out that being wrapped in one of Ghost’s towels was also quite pleasant. These weren’t anything like the raggedy old towels from your base, like the one sitting sadly discarded on the floor, no these were warm and soft on your skin. Where the other towel scratched this one soothed and you found yourself smiling, feeling your tail wag as you found comfort in the gentle material and lingering orange scented steam. 

Again, you couldn’t stay like that forever. So you dug through the clothes in your bag until you found an old pair of sweats and tugged those on, taking care to gently pull your tail through the specially stitched opening that had long been fraying with age, and then shrugged on a baggy t-shirt afterwards. Finally you were ready and able to go see Ghost. 

You put your towel back on the rail and neatly piled your dirty things in the corner as you weren’t sure what to do with them, then marched from the bathroom and down the hall, depositing your bag outside the doorway. It wasn’t hard to pick out Ghost’s scent even in his own house, even as you now smelled like him after using his Soap. His aroma now mingled with the smell of chicken and chips and your mouth watered as you came into the room, fixing your eyes on where Ghost now stood. He was leaning over a hot oven, pulling out half a rotisserie chicken and a tray of golden brown chips just as you’d walked through the threshold. 

“How was your shower?”

You raised your brows, still taken aback by how much he cared about your feelings and opinions on things. 

“Good, sir.”

“You don’t have to call me sir when we’re not on base,” Ghost said, throwing you a glance over his shoulder. 

You’d noticed that he’d dressed down since coming home. He’d shed his layers and changed out of his soaked clothes into a pair of jeans and black tee, wearing a black balaclava over his face instead of his skull mask. However you realised when he fully turned around with the plated food that it still had a skull painted over it. Cute. 

“Here, I’ve just heated up some leftovers for tonight. Nothing great, but try to eat up, you’ll need energy for tomorrow.”

“This is all for me?”

You frowned when he set the plate in front of you and looked up wide eyed. He was selling it like it was crap, but it was miles better than the tinned slop they served you on the base. This was fresh, this was the type of stuff you got as a treat when you were sent away on deployments. The crispy chicken skin was already tearing through the teeth of your imagination, your mouth watered at the thought of the sensation. Even knowing it was a little shrivelled from overcooking it was still going to be one of the tastiest meals you’d eaten in a while. Some small part of you wondered if it was all some kind of trick. 

“Yeah, all yours, pup. C’mon eat up, then off to bed,” Ghost urged, giving you shoulder a small squeeze. 

You shrunk from him, but successfully resisted the urge to snap. You couldn’t lash out after how nice he’d been, so you begrudgingly had to allow him the unnecessary physical contact. Putting it out your head, you instead lowered your head to your plate and gathered up your fork, ready to wildly stab at the bits of chicken and crispy chips. You could feel your tail swishing behind you, though even in present company you didn’t care. 

You happily set about finishing your food while Ghost sat across from you, intently typing and reading things on his phone. The light from the device bounced off of his eyes, the fake blue light pooling thick on top of his shrunken pupils. You only realised you’d begun to stare at him when he looked up and seemed to smile at you. 

“Don’t get distracted, finish your dinner,” he chastised. 

Your ears pinned to your head in embarrassment and you focused back on the plate, not looking back up until the plate was empty and your belly was pleasantly full. Your tail twitched happily behind you and you leaned back in your chair with it, closing your eyes so that you could bask in the pleasant heavy feeling that was starting to overcome you again. 

“Ah ah, you’re not sleeping here. C’mon, to bed,” Ghost rumbled.

You opened your eyes again and blinked up at him, glowering under the weight of your exhaustion. Whatever bed you were imagining him having for you, you couldn’t imagine it’d be that much better than the rickety wooden chair you’d planted yourself on. Of course you’d forgotten all the nice things he’d allowed you already, and your mind was imagining something like your sleeping arrangement at the base. 

And once again your expectations were blown out of the water. He gestured for you to come follow him and with a sigh and a sharp crack in your knees you rose from your chair and huffed off down the dark hallway with him. The wood creaked as you both walked across it, groaning more heavily under your new handler’s larger steps. You didn’t have to walk very far fortunately for you. 

Ghost stopped at a door that was just next to the bathroom and opened it, ushering you in front of him as he got the lightswitch. You let him lead you round and looked into the room as it flashed to life, surprised again to see how much better your circumstances had become since leaving your original base. 

“I’m sleeping in here?”

“Yeah, this is your room. You’ve got a few blankets and pillows there on the bed so you can arrange it however you like. I know some hybrids like to nest and some don’t, so its up to you how you want to keep it. All I ask is that you make sure it’s kept clean, and I will be checking.”

You barely listened to him as you stared at the bed in front of you. It was a real bed. Not a stuffed foam pillow on the floor, not a mattress bundled in the corner, not cold barren concrete, no. It was a real bed with legs and a springy mattress and a cornflower duvet cover and an assortment of pillows and blue blankets to match. 

“I’ll let you put your things away tomorrow, for now I want you to lie down for me. You need your tail brushed and I want to check over your back.”

All at once your chest collapsed and the happiness you’d felt left your body entirely, every inch of it dropping from your ears and tail. You turned around and looked at Ghost, stopping him in his tracks just as he was taking a step toward you. He paused when he looked down at the snarl you now wore. 

“You’re not touching my tail, I’ve brushed it already myself,” you rumbled.

“And you’ve done a piss poor job of it. Go lie down and let me take a quick look,” Ghost said, his tone forceful and even. 

You growled then, letting the engine in your chest roar to life. Even if he was being nice to you, this was a step too far. You didn’t like it when people touched your tail or ears, usually it meant tugging and pulling and pain. Whenever you felt someone's hands on them it’d bring bile up everytime, your body ready to process the agony it was about to experience. 

“Alright, I can see that’s an issue for you,” he sighed, placing his hands on his hips. “What if I make sure not to touch it with my hands and just run the brush through, would that be ok?”

You paused and considered his words, growls dying low in your throat. Maybe this was the lesser of two evils, you thought. After all, if he wanted to brush your tail then he more than proved he could overpower you, so perhaps this was the only way to keep him from putting his hands on it. Unless you wanted to put vicious intent behind your attacks, the kind that would get you put down like a dog, then you had no way of actually making him stop. 

“Fine,” you snapped.

“Good. Lie down then,” he commanded, disappearing into the gloom of the hallway after. 

He reemerged again just after you finally lay down. He walked in on your internal battle, one part of you wanting to squeal with joy at how soft the bed was and the other wanting to jump up and bite the hand that held the brushes and lotion bottle. The main thing that gave you pause was knowing that the other handlers you'd known would’ve beat you black and blue for growling at them and questioning their orders, meanwhile Ghost had adjusted his plans just to suit you. He proved again that he championed your comfort. 

“I’ll make this quick, I promise,” Ghost soothed.

He sat down on the bed beside you, causing it to dip and groan under the new weight. It forced you to roll toward him too. You huffed when you came into contact with his side and scrambled to correct yourself, trying to maintain some modicum of distance from him. Once you were settled again, he placed the brushes and lotion bottle down next to you and lifted the thick toothed brush bringing it to your tail. 

You scrunched your eyes shut tightly and grit your teeth. You already felt like you were going to bring up your dinner. You couldn’t help but picture him ignoring his past promises. However instead of living up to your dark imaginings, he placed one hand on the small of your back and let the other drag the brush down your tail snagging almost immediately on a big clumpy matt that you’d missed.

“See, couldn’t let that sit there and build up. You’d end up with a skin infection,” he grunted. “If you don’t want me touching there that’s fine, but you’re going to need to help take the clumps out, ok?”

You stiffly nodded your head and opened your eyes again, feeling your cheeks heat when you realised that Ghost was staring down at you. You gulped down your embarrassment and reached your hand back, digging into your tail and pulling at the clump that the brush had brought up. 

Ghost grunted his approval and let the brush run through again and again, only pausing when it would stop at a tug. It started to become rhythmic, the noise of the brush cutting through your wiry fur and the dull thud whenever it hit a snag. He never once tried to touch you without your permission. 

“How long has your tail been twisted like this,” Ghost asked, interrupting the sound of the brush. 

You tilted your head, trying to think back to a time when it didn’t curve off to the side, you hadn’t remembered it being straight in so long. 

“I think it was fully broken when I was around sixteen maybe,” you said softly. “The doctors tried to set it properly, but it just wouldn’t come back no matter what they tried. I’ve learned to balance with it like that though and it mostly works like it used to - just a little range of movement lost they said”

“How did it break?”

You shivered at the memory. Ghost must’ve felt it underneath his hold on you because he stopped his brushing for a moment and let you speak. 

“Sergeant Maddox got mad because I couldn’t complete the training he’d set that day. I was tired from being out in the kennels the night before and I didn't have the rest of the run in me. He yanked me up off the floor by the tail and it just…snapped.”

You couldn’t see Ghost’s expression properly, but you could hear his anger through the seething breath he let out. A string snapped in your body, you felt the heat coursing from him, you tensed. Though you were soon relaxing again when he got back to brushing, silently continuing on with the rest of the treatment.

The process only lasted a couple of minutes, thankfully it wasn’t as bad as you might’ve thought, soon enough the brush was sliding down your tail like it was a boat sailing through a silver river. The second brush he’d brought, the one with the finer teeth did the same in a matter of three clumps and for a second you were grateful to be able to sleep. You smiled to yourself and got ready to readjust yourself for bed, but Ghost stopped you, his hand still firmly on your lower back. 

“You said you got lashed earlier. I need to check your back first then you can sleep.”

You whined but didn’t bother to properly protest. It would do you no good anyway. He lifted your shirt and let out another seething breath, cursing to himself about something to do with ‘the staff being leagues below incompetent’ and curled up a little, willing him just to be done and to take his venom away from you. 

“These marks aren’t good. I’m going to put a little bit of cream on you to help keep them clean. It’ll sting a bit but I’m sure you’ve dealt with worse.”

You nodded, signalling for him to proceed. He carefully worked the cream into your back, withdrawing when you hissed at the pressure or when he’d covered a particularly bad area. Though in time that was done too and he was twisting the cap back onto the bottle in no time. You breathed in a sigh of relief and worked your way onto your side, turning away from Ghost and his annoying efforts to treat you well. 

He laughed at the movement and gathered his things, rising off the bed and letting you get comfortable. Before you could think to pull up the sheets and get them over you though, Ghost took care of that for you. He stretched the duvet cover over your body and gently stroked his hand down an area of your back that he knew had been missed from your punishment. 

“G’night, pup. Sleep well and just shout if you need anything.” he murmured, voice soft as he retreated from the room. 

He turned out the light and shut the door, leaving you to lie there in the darkness with your wide eyes growing wetter with every retreating step you heard. You were more awake than you’d been the whole day, your mind was racing and your lungs were labouring hard under your heavy breaths. Somehow you tried to process the fact you’d just had someone tuck you in for the first time in…maybe ever?

You let out a little sob and buried your head in the covers, eyes streaming tears before you could bully yourself into controlling them. It felt like you were a new recruit all over again. Your head raced with images from your early years, lying in the bunkroom with all those strangers around you, wondering when your parents would come back, scared shitless of the big shouty human men that seemed so quick to anger. 

You weren’t scared of a big man trying to shout at you and punish you anymore though, now you were scared of the big man that wanted to treat you softly and give you a good home. Hard punishment felt like something you could do, but nice treatment with soft blankets and consenting touches and warm bellies full of food? That terrified the fuck out of you. 

You silenced your cries with the covers and jammed your fingers into your skin, willing yourself to shut up and go to sleep. Even while the salt stung at your cheeks and your skin protested under your sharp claws, the greatest pain felt like the sheer humiliation of enjoying Ghost’s affections.

You liked that he was babying you and taking care of you!

weakling. 

You growled to yourself and threw your head into your pillow. Fuck him. You ignored all your racing thoughts and blocked them out, scrunching your eyes closed and focusing instead on the white dots that crossed your field of vision. You wouldn’t be so weak tomorrow, you promised yourself. You wouldn’t let him dote and treat you like a puppy, you would be strong, you vowed, he’d see what you were really capable of then. 

[specialagentlokitty]

Ziva x teen!reader - just soldiers

So teen reader has grown up in a rough family. It was basically run like a military; get up at the crack of dawn, do all these military base training even when they were like a child. Have a strict schedule to follow every day that they become a robot basically and any sense of being a normal teen thrown out the window. Teen reader is on a field trip with their class to NCIS for their history class talking about laws and every thing. They are in the bullpen where Ziva and the team is. Ziva takes notice to the teen reader and how they seem distant from all the other kids. Maybe something happens and it triggers teen reader to go into that military mindset (like a loud noise or arguing or whatever you want). Ziva knows a thing or two about the military mindset because of her dad and helps teen reader calm down and come back to reality. - @offspringoflordwinter 💜

TW: mentions of abusive and controlling parent

Standing in the middle of the floor with the rest of your class, you had your hands clasped behind your back as you just observed everybody else.

You had no real interest in this trip, you had no interest in becoming an NCIS agent, but your father said he would be busy today, and decided this trip would be a good way to keep you occupied.

“Are you interested in forensics?” A woman asked.

You glanced up at her but said nothing.

“I’m agent Ziva David, what’s your name?”

You turned away, going back to what you were doing.

One of the other students looked over, snickering a little bit.

“They won’t tell you anything, (Y/N)s weird. Never talks. A freak.”

Ziva looked back at you, then she walked back over to her boss who was also stood there watching you.

“Anything?”

“No, another student mentioned their name is (Y/N), but that’s it.”

Gibbs slowly nodded his head.

“I spoke to the teacher, she said she didn’t know much about (Y/N), calm student, occasionally had issues with being suspended for fighting.”

“Gibbs I recognise that look.”

“I know you do…”

You grew disinterested in standing there, and you made your way back into hallway, standing by the wall.

You ran over your daily routine in your head, checking to make sure you knew what you had to do.

Everybody made their way back up to the bullpen, and you stood to the back of your class.

Pulling up the sleeve to your shirt, you have a look at the time, and walked over to your teacher.

“Ma’am, I need to have my lunch now.”

“Yes, of course. Do you mind eating up here?”

“No ma’am.”

She nodded, and you sat down against one of the desks, opening up your lunch box so you could eat.

You have ten minutes to eat your lunch, then you had to do your afternoon work out, then finish your homework just after.

Usually you would then have afternoon classes, but since you were here that went out the window meaning that you had a few free hours.

After finishing your lunch, you stood up, walking back over to your teacher.

“Ma’am, I need to do my training.”

“Oh, is there any way you can skip it for today? I know you use the gym but we don’t have that here.”

“No ma’am. I have to follow my schedule.”

She sighed heavily, gesturing for you to follow her and you did.

She spoke to Gibbs, who was looking at you the whole time.

“We have an empty interrogation room you can use, we can’t give you entrance to the gym.”

“That’s fine sir, I can work around that.”

He nodded.

“Ziva will take you.”

“Thank you.”

You followed behind Ziva, and you rolled your sleeves up, getting ready to start your work out.

“How many push ups can you do?”

“A good solider must be able to do at least 50 push in a row. If you cannot then you are weak. Father does not tolerate weakness.”

Ziva nodded her head, leaning back against the wall.

“What does your father consider weakness?”

“Being sick is weak, crying is weak, being in pain is weak. A strong person must be able to go beyond their limits and not complain.”

Ziva listened to you carefully.

“Are you a solider?”

“Yes ma’am.”

You finished your push ups, and started doing some sit ups.

“How long have you been a soldier for?”

“My whole life.”

She nodded again.

There was no sign of emotion in your voice, nothing on your face.

You were the perfect soldier, just like she was.

Designed to follow your orders without complaint, to not be able to think for yourself, no thought about being a teenager, partying, drinking, all the normal things teenagers do.

You stood up, and rolled your shoulders slightly, turning around to face Ziva with your hands clasped behind your back.

“Do you have any friends?”

“Soldiers have no need for friends, they are useless and only weigh down the missions.”

“What is your mission?”

“I have no assignment right now.”

“But you have had one?”

“No. I do not receive my first mission until my 18th year.”

You studied Ziva quietly for a moment, looking her up and down.

“You are like me.”

“Yes.”

You looked at your watch, rolling your sleeves back down, doing them back up and you straightened your shirt.

“Why did you abandon your mission?”

“Because there is more to life than being a soldier for somebody else.”

“This place has made you weak.”

“Is that what you think?”

You nodded your head, leaving through the open door.

You walked back to your class with Ziva walking alongside you.

She didn’t say anything else, and neither did you you just rejoined your class, standing to the side of them all.

You were just watching when a loud bang from nearby made you spin around, a few of your fellow students began laughing loudly.

But you had jumped into fight mode, so when one of them rushed to run past you, you grabbed his arm, throwing him to the ground as you pinned him.

“(Y/N) let him go!” Your teacher yelled.

You said nothing, pinning your fellow student further into the ground.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and you spun around, standing up you grabbed the man by the arm, spinning around with so much force your threw him to the ground as well.

“(Y/N), look at me that’s an order.”

You snapped your head to Ziva.

You seemed to recognise her as some sort of authority, and you stood up straight, clasping your hands behind your back.

But you were still on guard.

“You cannot attack your fellow students.”

“He is a threat.”

“He was just playing a joke on you.” Gibbs said.

There was another loud noise, and you dissociated from them all, spinning around you charged at the person responsible for it.

He was pulled away from you, and you stood there, fists in the air ready to attack anybody that came after you.

Ziva walked over, hands raised in the air.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.”

You took a swing for her and she dodged it, moving to the side and you followed her.

Ziva was raised like you, she knew how to predict an attack and how to avoid it.

She grabbed your wrist, and you swung yourself back, sweeping your leg under hers to get yourself free and you crouched down, grabbing her shirt.

You raised tour fist and tried to punch her, but she caught it, eyes locked with hers.

“There is no threat to you here…” she whispered.

“Everybody is a threat.”

“No. No they’re not. You’re safe, either federal agents and teenagers whom I’m sure cannot even begin to match your level.”

She offered the smallest of smiles.

“There is no threat.”

She slowly sat up, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“You need to breathe. Focus. Breath.”

You went to pull you hand away.

“Don’t. I am older than you and I have had far more training.” She warned.

You nodded.

You were a soldier yes, but your father told you not to confront somebody who you knew you wouldn’t have a chance to attack.

Not yet anyway.

So you sat down, crossing your legs as you took a small breath.

“Focus on me, nobody else.”

Ziva let go of you, but she was ready to jump into action in case you went to attack somebody else.

You slowly breathed in and out, eyes locked with hers.

“Ignore everybody else, they’re not important.”

You nodded your head.

Ziva carried on leading you through the breathing you had to do in order to calm yourself down.

“Come with me.”

Ziva stood up, and you followed after her, letting her take you to a conference room where you were able to freely pace back and forth.

Ziva stood by the door so you couldn’t run away.

She realised that you were a danger, your solider mindset was going to put somebody in danger, you were going to seriously hurt somebody or worse.

You didn’t necessarily know that you were going to hurt somebody, but it was still a factor.

You wouldn’t care if you did either, you wouldn’t think twice about it if it meant protecting yourself.

At this rate Ziva was sure you were going to land yourself in prison before you even reached being an adult.

“I can help you.”

You paused pacing, turning your attention to her.

“I do not need help.”

“You do, because you shouldn’t have to live like this. You are not a soldier, you are a child.”

“I am a soldier, that is what I will always be.”

Ziva shook her head.

“No, you can be so much more.”

“No.”

She sighed.

“Unfortunately we cannot let you return home.”

“Okay.”

You sat down in a chair, placing your hands on the table.

You showed no objection, and that’s where your father had messed up.

You didn’t care if he was taken away from you, you had no attachment to him, or anybody else for that matter.

You would carry on.

Just like this.

Until it killed you.

Just like she used to.

And she wasn’t about to let that happen to you

[jewish-vents]

Goyim are wearing on my last nerve. I get the Mr. Rogers "look for the helpers" quote thrown at me regularly, people go "oh just don't watch/read/listen to them" when I mention someone being antisemitic, and act as if Jewish people who are upset are at fault for looking at something we knew would make us upset. And that's just not how this works.

I have never gone out of my way to look at something that makes me upset once in my entire life. I block people and stop using sites that upset me. I installed a Firefox extension to help filter content. I unsubscribed from every YouTuber that I used to watch who was antisemitic, installed an add-on to make them never come up in my feed, and installed an add-on to hide comments underneath videos from me. I've had to drop all my friends. I don't do anything to be visibly Jewish. I avoid any political content anywhere I see it. I have so, so many words filtered on multiple sites.

And the stuff that's allegedly my responsibility to just not watch/read/etc finds me anyway.

Try to watch YouTube? Antisemitism. Try to look at some fanart? Antisemitism. Watch the news? There it is. Searching for a D&D group? It pops up yet again. Look for some Animal Crossing design codes? Once more, with feeling. Walk to the dining hall from my dorm? Right there, in my face, yelling full volume. Go to class? The professors will make it a routine feature of lectures. Walk to the grocery store and back to get food so you can avoid the encampment? The cashiers are chatting about (((the Jews))). Search for something on Etsy for your mom's birthday? It's in the search results. Open up a website you go to for recipes because you want to cook until you feel less stressed? "Top 10 Recipes Stolen By Israelis". Buy a book at the used bookstore to read to take your mind off of things? An entire display is all anti-Israel books, right there to greet you when you walk in. Go to the thrift store to donate things you made or repaired? Your reward for this good deed is a sign in the window with the 'from the mountains to the sea' quote. Go home for a weekend to hang out with your family and naively think in a little town you wouldn't encounter antisemitism? Right-wing people drunk on conspiracy theories talk about their baseless beliefs right on the street where you can hear it through the windows.

There's this thing in psychology called DARVO. Deny, attack, reverse victim and offender. And it perfectly sums up the "nice" goyim's responses. The world isn't the offender, it's you. You're not being hurt, you're the one weighing everyone down with their negativity. They never address the root issue, that being that antisemitism is rampant, they just divert their attention onto something else, something pleasant to think about.

The problem with DARVO, like other abuser tactics, is that if you use it too often, it stops being effective. 11 months in, it's over the threshold. I am no longer going to feel guilty for noticing things are messed up.

If you don't want me to notice it, then change it. The easiest way to get people to stop complaining about the state of the world is to make it even marginally less bad, just enough we can convince ourselves there's hope for the future. But goyim can't do that, because that would take effort and involve admitting they have maybe done a single thing wrong in their lives. And their whole self-confidence rests upon the lie that is abdicating themselves from responsibility for their own actions.

I used to be angry at them. Now I'm annoyed at myself for ever expecting better. Genuinely, I do not know why I ever thought they were capable of being any better than they are now. There was nothing going on to prove to me that they had the capacity to be decent to other people when it wouldn't get them public praise, and most goyim are motivated entirely by extrinsic validation from their peers.

There is no anger left. There's just disappointment. And it's not even disappointment in them, because this is the best that they can do.

.

[mooncalf87]

I could talk about Hetty and her death for hours. I could. And I have. And I will. Hetty rant under the cut if you please DFSDGSFDDS

I honestly don't even know where to begin with this. I have so much to say about Hetty to the point that I woke up at 4a.m today because I couldn't stop thinking about her.

Hetty is an absolutely magnificent character. First off- She is a Victorian Woman. Women back then wernt treated like people. They were thrown around, used and abused, before being thrown away. Hetty was forced into a marriage (with her cousin, none the less) and was forced to be the perfect high-class image her entire life.

She was probably forced into having Thomas, but even though all that, she cares about him. She killed herself to try and secure him a safe future. She thinks Thomas must hate her- resent her for what she did to herself and how she treated him- but you can tell the opposite is true. Even after Hetty is long gone, Thomas still went to her for advice. He asked her if he should marry a lady he was seeing, and he didn't know, but Hetty was there and she cared.

Hetty had all these windows put up around her for all her life. Windows specifically because you can see her, but you can't touch. You can admire, but you can't love. You can see the display version of her that was put out to see, but you never get to see the Real Henrietta Woodstone.

Until Hetty died, and met the Ghosts. Slowly, one by one, they broke down these windows and Hetty was finally able to become herself. She allowed herself to enjoy the afterlife- to indulge in everyday things like TV, smelling foods, sex, jokes and laughing, and so much more that she wasn't ever allowed to do when she was alive.

She allowed herself to love and to be loved.

She made connections with the ghosts, she had a best friend, she had arguments and betrayals, she allowed herself to feel real love for Trevor. She did this all because she knew she had nothing to fear, that no one would be able to come back and hurt her.

But then Elias came back. Actually, it turns out he had been there the entire time. Waiting and listening the entire time, underneath the very house that Hetty was haunting. Though all the years she felt safe and at home, her terrible husband was there waiting the entire time.

They were able to get rid of him, but I can only imagine how terrified Hetty must've still felt. All this time that she felt safe, he was there.

But still, she allowed herself to live, even after this. To change and grow, even though she is a hundred and fifty years old. We have watched her experience new things, we have seen her get a chance to live again through the Arondakers and their BnB.

Then, Flower got sucked off. Or so they thought, anyways. The house wasn't the same without her, whether they liked it or not- they were incomplete. Until they found out Flower had been down a well this whole time.

Desperate to get Flower out and back to the group, Hetty revealed her deepest darkest secret. Her death- suicide. She killed herself to try and save family, but then she finally let the secret of her death out to do the same thing. She saved family.

No one knew, either. Pete knew they had a telephone, Hetty even talked to him about it. When Hetty told him about her phone, all along, she had those cords tight on her neck underneath that dress. And no one knew.

Her and Trevor were having sex for MONTHS, and they probably will again someday soon. But still, he had no idea. Not once did he see those marks or that cord, not once did he ever ask any questions.

I imagine that Hetty was glad. Glad that her shameful secret could hide safe under her collar. But I think she was also hurt. Hurt that a man she has spent countless hours with doesn't realize that there is a secret under there. She works hard to hide it- the fake story made up about her Morphine induced death, so Trevor would truthfully no reason to question it- but Hetty is only human.

She feels real sorrow and real pain, but she still hides some of it. When she pulled down that collar, you can see that she is looking at Isaac. Isaac watched her grow up and pass him in age, Isaac knew her from when she was just born, Isaac is her best friend.

She looks away and looks at the ground, you can see the fear in her face. Fear that no one will treat her thr same anymore, fear that all she will be shown is pitty and apprehension. But that's not what happens. They don't pitty her, but they try to help her. She is their friend, and they don't care how she died a hundred years ago, all they care about is who she is now and if she is okay.

...

...

...

OUGH HETTY MY BABYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY AUSGHHHH

[joanofexys]

jo i need to know more abt angel's trauma

Angel angst!!! This boy is so packed full of trauma and I'll dig it all up

tws for pretty much everything in AFTG ever

At four years old Angel's mother goes missing and he starts becoming the target of his fathers abuse. His father's treatment leaves him scared and confused. He's beyond spoiled once his mother goes missing. Suddenly his father bringing home gifts nearly daily. But every time he makes a mess, he's too loud, he cries, he complains he's being hit. If his father comes home and seems to be having a bad night he could be being given a new toy and in the same breath receiving 10 new bruises.

CPS was contacted for the first time when he was five years old by his kindergarten teacher. She had seen bruises, he was a lot quieter than other kids, flinched at things no one else did. When he got scraped up on the playground he wouldn't even cry. But when they show up at the door they meet a very charming, but tired, father, mourning his missing wife. He welcomed them in to a slightly messy, but still well kept, house with his quiet son who hid behind his legs. They asked to speak with Angel alone and sat down with him at the kitchen table.

"Did you find my mommy?"

There's silence for a few minutes. Because how do you tell a little kid that his mom's probably not coming home? That you're not here about his mom but because they have to ask if his other parent is hurting him? And when they do ask all Angel does is deny, deny, deny.

"Are you gonnna take away my daddy too?"

They leave. Nothing happens. And if Angel doesn't get hit that night for doing a good job, well, nobody but him knows.

CPS gets called a few more times throughout the years. Angel gets good at lying. His father has father has perfected the grieving widow, single dad act. By age eight it escalates from just getting hit. Things are thrown, he explains away the visible cuts as accidents on the playground. He dropped a plate while his dad was at work and tried to clean it up by himself. The cuts lead to nasty scarring under his shirt, they all keloid, and even when they heal they still hurt.

Sometimes he'll get a week or two where his father's hand is light. Where nothing gets thrown. Maybe a few days where he doesn't get hit at all. Of course he doesn't know it then but it was always following one of his father's murders.

And then he's 10 years old. Alone in a hospital bed with a cut up face and more broken bones than he's ever had. And everything hurts. And he wants his mom and he hates his dad. When the strangers step into the room he's old enough he knows no one will ever come with news about his mom and he's angry enough that he won't lie about his dad. And he's ten and all he wants is to never see his dad again. He doesn't care about any of the charges they're talking to him about, about them pressing him to confess that this had been happening for years, and he especially has zero interest in sitting in a court room and having to look his father in the eye.

He meets his first foster family before he's even discharged from the hospital. He was quiet when they first met him. They knew he was in rough shape but thought he would be easy enough. They're nice. A white picket fence type of family. Angel hated them. They were the polar opposite of what he was used to and he thought that was what he wanted. But when realized it was something he missed out on for the past ten years, something people just got while he had to be taken out of his home to get it, he was just so mad. Seven months. Seven months of therapy, of being taken out of classes to see counselors, of family vacations. Seven months of yelling that they weren't his family, of slammed doors, of fights on the blacktop. He left his "siblings" alone for the most part. Preferred to ignore them. Kept his fights to other students at school. But the last month he started yelling at them too. Never tried to hit them or physically hurt them but he certainly intended to be mean. The behavioral issues became too much for them and that family decided to let him go.

He doesn't care much for his other foster families. He knows he won't be staying with them for long. That he causes too much trouble. His next one has a dog. A chocolate lab. He likes the dog. His foster brother in his next family has a cool guitar. He tries to teach Angel before the two of them split up and move to different homes. There's the little girl when he's 12 who's even angrier than him. He likes that she's angry. He hopes she'll do something with it. One of his foster siblings gets the head torn off their teddy bear by their foster family's son. They leave it in the backyard. Angel steals some of the mom's sewing supplies and messily stitches it back on. The head is crooked and doesn't have enough stuffing. But when he puts on their bed their face still lights up. He's in detention near constantly. He ignores the look on foster parents faces every time one of them has to pick him up. There's the house that says a prayer before every meal. The house that always has fresh flowers on the counter. The house with the broken grandfather clock that chimed at random times. The house that fed the stray cats. Little things that differentiated every foster home, things that were unimportant when he was only with them so shortly, but things he remembered regardless.

Then he was 14. Two months in with a new family when the police showed up at the door. He's sure some kid got fed up with the fights and their parents decided to press charges or something. Instead they start asking about his dad. No elaboration on what it's about at first. And he's 14 and he's scared and he's being pressed to talk about a man who he hasn't seen in the past 4 years who nearly ended his life. And then they bring up his mom. He's 14 and he's angry at the world and he puts on that stupid tough guy act all the time, but he's never really stopped wanting his mom. They found her. She's dead. His father's confessed to her murder and the murders of 12 other women who resembled her. Does he know anything about it? They don't get far. He's sobbing, hyperventilating, begging for his mom. They offer to let him testify. He doesn't want to. He doesn't show up for the trial at all. The news mentions that Matteo Di Fiore, convicted of murdering his wife, Sofia Di Fiore, and 12 other women has a son. No name is ever given. He's a minor and he's already been in the system for years.

He gets home from the police station at 3 in the morning, following 7 hours of questioning, and promptly wrecks his room. Destroys books and toys and any other sentimental item he held onto from former families. He breaks two vases, cuts up his hands bad. They scar. Within the week he's placed somewhere else.

And like the flip of a switch he's that quiet kid again. Like his concerningly quiet 5 year old self. The eldest daughter in his new foster family, going into her senior year, decided that teaching him to play Exy was a good chance for bonding and could get him out of his shell. He had no reason to say no. He makes the high school team as a backliner and they play through that school year together. He's with that family for 5 months before one of the parents has a job opportunity and they have to move out of state for it. They offer to start adoption process, take him with them, but he doesn't want to leave.

He meets Harper Shaw later that year. Second semester, biology, they're 15 years old. She sits in front of him, they become lab partners, and study partners after that. He thinks she's a genius. Part of the cheer team and top of her class. She knows nothing about him, about who he was. It was a relief. He asked her prom, she said yes.

8 months together and then they find out she's pregnant. And it's terrifying. Harper wants to keep the baby. Angel isn't going to tell her to do otherwise. They're together for a little while before they realize it's just not gonna work that way and they decide to co-parent. A little while later and they're welcoming Phoebe Sofia Shaw into the world. Angel has never been more scared in his life. He thinks he's gonna be a terrible dad, he's determined to be a halfway decent one.

They get through high school. Angel's still flitting through foster homes, but he's half moved into the Shaw's place. It's overwhelming for them both. They try not to fight about it. He tries to remember how to breath when Phoebe cries. Tries to remember that he can always call Harper's parents to take Phoebe for a bit if he ever needs a moment. Harper gets accepted to college, Angel never bothered to apply to any. She'll make the move to PSU, he'll go with her and start working full time to support them.

Then he's called into his coaches office and David Wymack is sitting there. He knows the foxes. How could he not? One of their star players was in the news for his connections to the mafia. They had, by some miracle, won finals. He asks for some time and with Harper's encouragement he, stupidly (in his opinion), signs the dotted line.

Starting college is so much worse than he imagined. Andrew fucking Minyard put together who he was and why he fit the bill for the foxes before he even moved in for the summer. He has no clue what he wants to study or what classes to even take. Phoebe is entering the nightmare toddler stage where her favorite word is no and nothing seems to make her happy. Wyamck and Abby and even Bee seem more than happy to help out with her when Harper can't take her and he's stressed beyond belief but that only does so much.

He spends most of his time pacing in the court building or fox tower's hallways on the verge of tears, silently begging Phoebe to just go to sleep. People are assholes about him being a teen dad, people are worse to Harper. It brings back some of his temper. He might not be with her anymore but she's still his best friend. His work load is worse than he expected, yet nowhere near what Harper has on his plate, and keeping his grades up is a struggle. Surprisingly, it's Kevin who proves to be the most help with that. He loses a lot of sleep and ends up spending most nights at either Wymack or Abby's place because there's only so much, being woken up in the middle of the night by a screaming toddler, that most college students can take. He seriously considers dropping out multiple times in that year alone.

And this is hella long now so we're gonna wrap it up there, but I promise Angel doesn't drop out and he really loves his daughter and he loves the foxes too and it all works out.

[the-great-empress]

idc how incompetent crowley is, MC DIES IN OBEY ME. where was lilith then? huh? smh 😭😭

Sorry for the spelling mistakes, English is not my native language and I use Google translator

Oh boy…a short question and a lot of what I would like to say.

I’m going to warn you from the beginning, I don’t like Lilith, maybe when I talk about Lilith I’m mostly influenced by that. I may get hate from some people, but that's my opinion.

First let’s talk about our favorite director

Crowley

Crowley could be... that... Crowley... a director of a prestigious academy, somewhat irresponsible and relaxed, perhaps also childish, come on, even I sometimes question how he could be a director and I like the theories that he is up to something, but he has done more things by Yuu than Lilith by Mc

Crowley since the prologue of the game has helped Yuu, that is, he could have easily thrown him out on the street, he even said that he would not do it and housing him in Ramshackle was the best option, I know what many will say "Crowley could have housed him in one of the dorms” or “You were able to accommodate him in his house” that is to say, come on!

• Leave a person without magic in a dormitory full of magic users? We are talking about NRC students, even Ace and Deuce were proof that they were going to mess with Yuu sooner or later, whatever the dormitory they would bother him as soon as he entered, that would be like leaving a cow in the tiger cage that They haven't eaten for a week.

• Secondly, let a stranger stay in your house? Oh really? We know that Yuu would not steal from Crowley or hurt him, but in those moments of the prologue Yuu for Crowley was just a STRANGER who arrived at NRC by mistake, nothing more, I ask you, would you allow a stranger to stay in your house? If you manage to do it well for yourself, but I wouldn't do it for safety reasons, the director may be very “kind” as he says, but not naive, plus he was going to live there for free, of course he had to do one or another errand, but Yuu accepted that (something that is repeated in several of the books and I will mention it later), and even allowed Grim to stay and attend classes.

From my point of view, complaining that Ramshackle has not been remodeled would be abusing the director’s generosity, that is, first the octatrium had to go to, let’s say, fix it a little, so that later the VDC group would donate their money and even then it could not be completely remodeled, Crowley is the director, not a billionaire to waste money (That’s Kalim), and the ghost thing is very questionable and negligent on his part

As for Crowley sending him on errands, come on, in the prologue Crowley made it a condition for him to do some work or another and Yuu accepted, in which case Yuu complained, he accepted it from the beginning so no matter what. Would have to make. Yes, they usually seem like blackmail, but in the end in some of them Crowley gives him a prize. In book 2 it allows him to participate together with Grim (remember that Grim is a beast and Yuu is a person without magic, the mere fact that both appear on open television as NRC students could harm the reputation of the academy) in the magifht despite that Ramshackle did not have the seven students, in book 4 (here Crowley leaves a lot to be desired, he goes on vacation and leaves the Ramshackle duo at the academy) he gives him an emergency phone and a banquet as a reward for doing the errand. , and in book 5 he gives you FREE tickets to invite other people to the VDC

Despite all the problems that Yuu and Grim have caused… despite the fact that they have been given many reasons… despite the fact that at the end of book 5 and beginning of book 6 Grim showed himself to be a danger to EVERYONE… Crowley has not thrown them out on the street and has treated them as much as part of the staff as students, I dare say that he sees them as his right hands to whom he can entrust the jobs that only they could do as in book 2. So that they would find out who is ruining the event and in book 3 entrusting them with the task to help him so that Azul does not extort him again… that, my friends, is called trust, something so precious that it is difficult to obtain and easy to lose… and Until the moment Crowley and the duo have a relationship of mutual trust, it has its ups and downs of course. What relationship doesn’t? And Crowley won’t be the best tutor/guardian and will ridicule him, but at least I can’t deny that he has done good things for Ramshackle.

Shit! I've been writing about Crowley for almost two pages, I'd better cut this short on Crowley to talk about the ancestor.

Lilith

Ahh... Lilith... as I told you at the beginning, I don't like Lilith, in fact, I dare say that Lilith was the greatest evil that could have happened to Mc, I will try to argue and show my points with the least amount of rudeness and anger possible

I don't know where to start with Lilith MY GOD! She did a lot and at the same time nothing. How is that possible? In order not to make this long, I will only talk about the first season (although in the others it is practically not even mentioned) and I will talk about it as an ancestor

Shit…

I still have a hard time believing that Lilith is portrayed as a good ancestor, she literally USED her descendant to solve her brothers' problems, in most of season 1 she is only mentioned, come on, the one who is not there (when she is It is), it only appears when Mc goes to the attic to see who freed Belphegor. Surprise! Lilith manifests her power so that Mc can enter the attic and Belphegor ends up hanging her. Congratulations Lilith! You indirectly killed your descendant! How are you not going to demonstrate again to stop your genocidal brother?

She revived Mc without asking her a “Are you okay?” or a “I apologize on behalf of my brothers” she only told her to help her brothers because she chose her! That is, HELLO?! Your brother killed your descendant in one of the most horrible ways to die, AT LEAST ASK HER HOW SHE IS FEELING BEFORE ORDERING HER TO HELP THEM BECAUSE THAT IS HER REASON FOR SHE BEING THERE! No more I’m not saying that Mc had a strong trauma or existential crisis from that because the story doesn’t delve into it! IN THE NAME OF GOD, JESUS AND THE HOLY SPIRIT!!!

Solomon from “What in the hell is bad?” he apologized to his descendant in the middle of a fight! Why didn't Lilith even say “I'm sorry”?!?! Michael had to go and apologize to Mc for all the shit she went through!!! That's how it is!! Michael!! And there are people who talk about Michael as if he were a monster when Lilith and most of the siblings are the real monsters!!! Or did they forget what the brothers' initial treatment of Mc was like and how RADICAL they changed when they found out that Mc was a descendant of Lilith?!?! Belphegor literally went from wanting to kill her to fighting with his brothers for sitting next to her, the fact that he feels guilty does not free him from his actions and it would be extremely surprising if Mc does not end up with another trauma because of it.

I’m already digressing… But that’s my point of view. In short, Crowley may be incompetent, but at least sometimes he does good things and takes trouble with Yuu, unlike Lilith who does nothing apart from sacrificing her descendant for the brothers, I don’t understand why there are people who defend Lilith and they throw shit at Crowley

[wanderersrest]

The Devil That Is Capitalism

Content Warning: this post is going to potentially be talking about a whole smorgasbord of dicey topics including child abuse, child sexual abuse, child soldiers, war crimes, death, fates worse than death, politics, militarism, casual mention of suicide, and, of course, capitalism.

Also Spoiler Warning for Mobile Suit Gundam: Iron-Blooded Orphans

Reader discretion is advised.

Mobile Suit Gundam has always been a series about the horrors of war. To me, though, one of the more fascinating things about the series is that a lot of the wars in the various timelines stem from some form of unchecked capitalism. Though I haven't watched every series in the franchise yet, I do think one series in particular stands out in its portrayal of capitalism and its woes: 2015's Mobile Suit Gundam: Iron-Blooded Orphans. Strap yourselves in, because this is going to be an extremely long post, and make sure that you've read the content warning at the top of the post.

Oh, and it might help to read my Spoilery Rant on Iron-Blooded Orphans. It is informed, in part, by what I'm about to say in this post. And also make sure you read the context post about Gundam and its thematic ties to capitalism. And you might want to open up TVTropes' character page, because there are going to be a lot of nouns thrown around.

Left For The Wolves

Iron-Blooded Orphans begins with our titular orphans, the Third Company of the Chryse Guard Security organization (CGS), being chosen to escort one Kudelia Aina Bernstein from Mars to Earth so that she can meet with the leaders of the Earth economic blocs and negotiate the freedom of her nation of Chryse. After they are left to die by their superiors when Gjallarhorn, the protectors of the Earth sphere, attack, the Third Company manage to pull through using an old Mobile Suit that CGS had been using as a power source: the ASW-G-08 Gundam Barbatos (ehe intensifies). Once the dust settles, the members of the Third Group stage a violent coup against their owners and rename themselves Tekkadan: the Iron Flower That Never Wilts.

And right away, we can see how capitalism shapes the Post-Disaster timeline. The fact that children are not only forced to pick up undesirable jobs in order to just barely eke out a living, to say nothing of the fact that those who become child soldiers are forced to undergo surgery to have the Alaya-Vijyana System implanted into them. And, uh...

Getting the AV Implant is not good. IF the surgery is successful, then you are now capable of piloting the tank-like Mobile Worker. But due to the fact that the Alaya-Vijyana System has been outlawed by Gjallarhorn, the only people who perform it by the time Iron-Blooded Orphans are back alley doctors. And if your body rejects the AV System, you'll only be paralyzed from the waist down. If you're lucky.

So it's either that or, in the case of Atra, it's brothel work. The only thing that saved Atra was the fact that she was too young to do anything serious, so she was relegated to cleaning and dishwashing. But it isn't unheard of for these Martian street rats to be used for the other unsavory acts, as we'll soon find out.

Pitting the Poor Against One Another (Featuring Ein Dalton)

Another aspect of Iron-Blooded Orphans that exemplifies the worst parts of capitalism is how the systems put in place by capitalism will pit poor people against other poor people. The best example of this in action in IBO is everyone's favorite ball of rage: Ein Dalton.

Like the orphans who populate Tekkadan, Ein is a member of Gjallarhorn who was born and raised in Mars. Of course, due to its nature as a colony of the Earth Sphere, citizens of Mars are generally treated as second-class citizens. And even though he is a soldier of Gjallarhorn, Ein is treated just like the street rats of Mars. It is important to note that when Ein is introduced, the only person who really respects him as a human being is his direct superior Crank Zent.

And Crank ends up committing suicide by Tekkadan. And then Tekkadan, the people who killed Crank, end up commandeering his Mobile Suit for their own purposes. This ends up setting up a good amount of bad blood between Ein and Tekkadan, which lasts for the rest of the first season. And it's a real shame for Ein since, in theory, he and the members of Tekkadan have a shared upbringing as Martian citizens. But because Ein is working for Gjallarhorn, he is placed in an organization that treats him as a second-class citizen. And only two people in this organization treat him with respect: the now deceased Crank and Gaelio Bauduin, who takes Ein under his wing immediately after Crank's passing.

This kind of exploitation that pits marginalized groups against one another is a key component of capitalism and its more sinister cousin, imperialism. Since Mars is treated as a place that has lots of resources, the people don't matter. The people only exist to help extract said resources. So this, coupled with Ein being stuck in an organization where one of the few people who treat him as a human being is killed off for rather selfish (but really understandable) reasons, he ends up loathing the people whose struggles are most sympathetic to his own.

So when a mortally wounded Ein gets strapped into the EB-AX-2 Graze Ein, it makes sense in a really sad way that he is reduced to a screaming mess of a mechanical monster. And boy, if I had a nickel for every time Iron-Blooded Orphans introduced a screaming mechanical monster, well... you should just start calling me Doofenschmertz. But more on that soon.

It's All About Who Has the Power and the Money

Moving on to Gjallarhorn itself, we can see how capitalism and the status quo has made the organization complacent. Our first introduction to Gjallarhorn includes the head of the Mars Branch being bribed by Kudelia's father in an attempt to bring her back home. The Mars Branch head decides that killing her along with everyone who is trying to give her passage to Earth. So right from the get-go, we know that Gjallarhorn members are willing to commit crimes all because no one will really stop them. After all, Gjallarhorn have basically been the one true military power in the Post-Disaster timeline for more than 300 years at this point.

Gjallarhorn at this point is a corrupt and hollow shell of its former self. At this point in the Post-Disaster timeline, the organization has gone from a group that protected humanity from the Mobile Armors to an organization that protects the status quo at all costs while protecting the worst of the lot. The attack on CGS at the beginning of the series is a great example of this, and it doesn't stop there.

Gjallarhorn is guilty of election interference due to their involvement with economic bloc nation Arbrau's elections, as they had place Tomonosuke Makanai under house arrest in an attempt to keep him from being elected. Gjallarhorn is also guilty of committing multiple false flag operations, which I will talk about later. There's also the fact that one of the heads of the Seven Stars married off his son to a child, though in that case that is largely to make said son look bad (and we'll touch on the son soon).

And nothing exemplifies Gjallarhorn's descent into decadence more than at least two heads of the Seven Stars, Carta Issue and Iok Kujan, being glory hounds who will sacrifice all of their men just to look good. Both only look out for themselves, with the latter in particular being a detriment to not just his enemies but his allies as well. In fact, I would go so far as to say that Iok actively screws everyone over by being the biggest failson the series has to offer. And Iok's stupidity rears its head at one of the worst moments imaginable: the awakening of the Mobile Armor Hashmal. And the worst part about this? Hashmal isn't the biggest monster the series has to offer.

The monster is also not Gundam Barbatos, or really any of the Gundam frames, for that matter.

The Real Monster Was Rustal Elion

One of the more maddening takes that's pervasive one places like Reddit is the idea that Orga and McGillis are the bad guys. Like we all just forgot that Rustal Elion exists? Or for that matter Nobliss Gordon, Jasley Donomikols, or Iok Kujan?

And the real irony of this is that, contrary to what Gundam is famous for, Iron-Blooded Orphans is one of the few Gundam series where there are actual, capital V villains. Yes, our protagonists are violent even by the standards of Gundam protagonists and will do whatever it takes to win, but they're all creations of the systems of violence that capitalism have produced. And yes, that does include resident Char Clone McGillis Fareed (though, as I have said before, I can understand if someone said he was a villain too). It turns out being a street urchin who is adopted by a man who would proceed to sexually abuse McGillis is going to mess you up mentally. That's why, in their final confrontation, Gaelio can only look on McGillis in pity. It doesn't absolve McGillis of any wrongdoing, but it does make sense why he wouldn't trust anyone with his plan of dismantling Gjallarhorn. Doubly so when Gaelio all but states that he would have joined McGillis in his cause had the latter just opened up to the former.

But people like YouTuber Boofire191 will swear to you that the "protagonists" are the bad guys. Right...

Because performing multiple false flag operations as a justification for committing multiple war crimes makes you a good guy, right? Because that's something that both Rustal and Iok have done, twice in the case of Rustal specifically, three times if we count him as also being Iok's superior.

Or murdering civilians in cold blood just to get a rise out of your rival? That has Jasley written all over it. Oh, and Iok is also partly responsible for this as well as killing off unarmed civilians on top of hiring Jasley.

Or, for that matter, trying to have a Martian politician assassinated? Nobliss tried to pull this off with Kudelia in season one. Heck, Nobliss' whole MO is fighting for Martian independence in such a way that he can also make a profit while doing so. That's why he ultimately sells Tekkadan out to Rustal in season 2.

Or what about awakening a mobile armor even though your enemies are literally telling you not to? Because Iok sure didn't care about the fact that he could potentially awaken the nightmare of the Calamity War. His foolish mistakes end up costing everyone everything, including Rustal.

Yes, really. Iok is so much of a failson that he manages to ruin Rustal's plans. Because remember: Rustal's end game is not just restoring the status quo. It's restoring the status quo in such a way that he, Rustal Elion, would be the new head of the Seven Stars. Of course, Iok screws this up in the best way he ever could:

By slowly getting slowly crushed to death by Akihiro and the Gusion Rebake Full City.

I single out Rustal, by the way, for one very specific reason: he's the only one of these villains who is still alive by the end of the show. Jasley gets his just desserts when Tekkadan leaves Teiwaz (which I haven't even mentioned, good lord) for the sole purpose of getting revenge for Naze Turbine and company's demise at the hands of Jasley. Nobliss Gordon is gunned down in a bathroom stall by an older Ride Mass, which makes for a fitting end for a greedy corporate fat cat like Gordon. And that slimeball named Iok Kujan... is crushed to death in the most satisfying of manners by the GOAT, Akihiro Altland.

I had to bring it up again. Iok's death always sparks joy in me.

But Rustal is not defeated. And this is important, because Rustal represents the status quo. This is why my point about Iok screwing things up even for Rustal is so important: with at least four of the Seven Stars families out of commission, it is all but impossible for things to continue the way they are now. And remember, Rustal still wins in the end. He gets to save face as the hero who stopped the Devil of Tekkadan, all while people don't hear about the war crimes he committed just to do so.

And don't forget: the people Rustal won against were almost exclusively children. He slaughtered children in the name of the status quo.

Conclusion

To tie it all together, everything in the Post-Disaster timeline is about power. Money speaks volumes in Iron-Blooded Orphans, and it's what sets Orga and Tekkadan on their path to fame, infamy, and ruin. Tekkadan's arrival onto the scene, alongside the scheming of one McGillis Fareed, sets us up for a situation where people who could shake things up are appearing. And if there is anything capitalists hate, it's anything that rocks the boat.

In a way, Rustal Elion ultimately serves as the setting's equivalent to an immune response. These dangerous entities have appeared and are threatening the status quo, so it is up to Rustal and his Arianrhod Fleet to crush them. And like an immune response, whether it be a real one or the kind seen in Cells At Work, his response is ruthless. But it isn't enough, and he is ultimately forced to compromise.

And that, to me, is a fitting end to a man obsessed with power.

[a1307s]

I Hate You #1

(Wally West)

[Art is not mine! Credit to croaky]

Request By: Fandom_Princess_21

Keys:

Y/N - Your Name

H/C - Hair Color

Word Count: 2,839

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Lying

Mentions of cheating

Fighting/Yelling/Cursing

Name Calling

Belittling

Mild abuse tendencies/Rough man handling

Mentions of injury/bleeding

Mentions of abandonment

———————————————————————

The Central City air is cold and sharp through my suit as I carefully slide open the living room window to the apartment I share with Wally. Through my silent hopes and prayers that Wally isn't home yet, I think about how our seven year anniversary is coming up in a few days. Back in our sidekick years we were in and out of each other's lives a lot, partly because of Black Canary's and Flash's friendship and partly because of our mutual friendship with Robin.

When our superhero mentors decided we were old enough to start fighting as vigilantes on our own, Wally and I - along with Robin, Kaldur, and Superman's surprise son - got thrown into a stitched together team. From there our relationship bloomed. We spent everyday, every waking moment, and every weekend together. Of course our time got spent with the other boys - and M'gann and Artemis later on - which ended with all of our bonds being pretty strong.

By the time Wally was twenty-one and had served as a hero for eight years he was done with the superhero gig. Me on the other hand didn't want to give it up. I loved being a superhero and unlike Wally, I had only started the gig at fifteen so I was at a good five years instead of the eight Wally had under his belt. He always swore it was because I was younger than him - only by a year mind you - but I'd manage to grow out of it.

My retirement was always a fire starter between us. He was scared of losing me without having himself out on the field to cover my back. I was scared of losing myself if I gave up the superhero thing. Before Oliver and Dinah adopted me I was nothing more than a Star City street rat. All I had ever known was the filthy underworld of Star City and the world of being a crime fighter. Who would I be without either one of those? At the end of things I decided to retire with Wally, which was not taken very well by Richard or Conner.

In a turn of things, Richard came to see me one night after my college classes. He begged me to help him just one more time for a mission he couldn't possibly do without me. Well then one more time turned into two, and then three, and before I knew it I was sneaking around when I could to help the team with the hope of Wally not finding out. I know it's not good to lie to my boyfriend, but he never could understand when we were younger so how could he understand now?

The window creaks against its old frame as I slide it open. I let out soft curses as it lifts up. I'm careful not to knock over the lamp as I climb through the window. "Where the hell have you been?" Says a voice from the living room, causing me to lose my balance and knock over the cheap lamp. It crashes down on the floor, shattering into the pieces.

"What... What are you doing home Walles? I thought you were working late," I say towards the direction of the voice as I carefully pick myself up and avoid the glass pieces.

Wally flicks on the lamp next to him, filling the room with warm lighting that stretches to the tips of my toes. "I called to tell you we finished working on the engine earlier than I thought but you were too busy to answer your phone, so I went to the flower shop down the street to get you flowers. I thought it would be a nice surprise for you when I got home but you weren't here. So, where were you?" Wally says, pulling at my heart strings.

"With Richard," I answer, slinging out Nightwings name as I walk towards Wally, letting the light engulf me.

"And what were you doing with Richard?" Walles asks, looking over my latex thrown together suit.

I play with my finger tips, pulling at the black gloves. "Would you believe me if I said I was fucking your best friend?" I ask, laughing nervously and taking a quick glance at my boyfriend. His eyes are dark and his frown is deeper than Batman's.

"Really Y/N? You're going to joke about adultery right now?" Wally asks, anger dripping off his words. My teeth sink into my lip as I focus on the ground, slowly shaking my head. "For starters you absolutely hate Dick. You can't stand his body count, not to mention how he talks about women. And for two you can't handle unstability. It would take me leaving your ass for this relationship to be over," Wally yells at me, standing up from his chair and walking towards me.

When he gets to me, Wally grabs my waist. His fingers dig into my sides, stabbing into the open wound from today's mission. "Wally-" I start, tugging at his arms.

"What the hell is wrong with you Y/N? Sneaking around at night while I'm at work? Doing stupidly dangrous hero actvity? Sneaking around my back?" Wally keeps yelling, pushing me backwards towards our bedroom.

Wally's fingers keep digging deeper into my sides as I walk backwards, trying to stop myself from tripping over anything around our apartment floor. "Wally, please let-" I try again, digging my nails into his arms and trying to pull them off me.

"Please what? Please let you keep risking your life for people that'll never recognize you?" Wally asks, slamming me against the bedroom door. His hips dig into mine, pinning me against the door as his fingers dig into my bones. They're so deep now that I can feel the blood starting to trickle down my side.

"Please Wally, let go of my side! You're hurting me. Please! Please let go of me!" I beg, tears starting to roll down my cheeks.

"Ba... babe?" Wally whispers out, letting go of me and stepping back. "Did I hurt you?" Wally mumbles, reaching out to cup my face. "I didn't mean to slam you so hard."

"It's... it's not that. I... I got hurt today... on the... mission..." I mumble, adding pressure onto my side.

Wally moves his hands to my side to help me add pressure. "Stupid... you're udderly stupid..." Wally mumbles, moving one hand from my side to the door knob and fiddling it open. After the door clicks open Wally roughly moves his arms around me and carries me into the room bridle style. "Completely reckless and I'm going to beat the shit out of Dick for letting that happen," Wally mumbles, as he drops me down on the bed, causing me to bounce up once before I settle on the bedding.

He continues to talk to himself about how incredibly "recklass" and "stupid" I am as he walks out of the room and heads to the kitchen for the first aid kit. I take the few minutes of peace to lean back on the bed and enjoy the silence. By the time Wally walks back in, my anxiety is chewing at my heart. Different scenes play out in my head about how Wally is going to react after I'm patched back up.

"Sit up," Wally snaps, setting the first aid kit down and snapping the lid open. I obey his angry request and sit up. I peel my suit shirt off as Wally lays out the bandages and disinfectant wipes. "You're giving this up, Y/N. For real this time." He barks, roughly pulling off the bloody bandages.

"Who gives you the right to decide that?" I hiss back, taking the bandage wraps from his hands to finish unwrapping them myself. "You're not my goddamn father".

"You're right, I'm not because if I was I would have left your ass to rot away in that goddamn mount with Dick just like your father did to you on the streets of Star City."

"What the fuck Wally? That's too far." I say, glaring at him before picking up the disinfectant wipes.

I start dabbing at the wound with the wipes before Wally rips them from my hands. "At least I'm honest, unlike you," The words come out laced with venom. I look at Wally completely dumbfounded. His eyes are burning with anger and his jaw is clenched as he looks at me. "I absolutely hate you, do you know that? That I hate you? You're unbelievable Y/N," Wally mumbles, causing tears to prickle my eyes.

"Get the fuck out," I whisper, the image of Wally getting blurry.

"What?" He asks, lifting his head to look at me.

"Get the fuck out of my apartment, Wallace." I yell at him, getting up from the bed and pushing Wally towards the door. "Get out! Out of my house!"

"Last time I checked my name was on the lease. This is my apartment. You get the fuck out," Wally barks at me, his eyes going slitted as he looks down at me.

"Fine," I say hushly, grabbing my shirt off the bed and throwing it on before I walk out of the room.

"Where are you going?" Wallace asks, following after me.

"Why the fuck does it matter?"

"Because I'm your boyfriend," Wally yells at me as I walk out the front door.

"Are you sure? Cause you're acting a lot like my father right now," I snap at him, glaring into his dark eyes. He looks back just as angry as I am.

"I hate you!" Wally yells as I slam the door closed behind me.

"Good," I mumble to myself.

--------------------

Wally's POV

The noise of the lock turning fills the empty hallway of my apartment complex. When the door swings open I'm met with darkness. A part of me wants to turn on a light and see the face of my girlfriend but the reasonable part of me knows Y/N isn't inside our home. The reasonable part of me knows she's been staying with Dick in his apartment. The reasonable part of me knows Y/N has been sleeping in Dick's bed as he's been toughing it out on the couch for the past two weeks because my dumbass had to explode on her.

Reluctantly I flip on the light and even though I know Y/N isn't there I'm still disappointed to not see her asleep on the couch after her Friday night English lecture. The apartment is a mess from my lack of cleaning and the lack of Y/N picking up after me. Dishes are piled up in the sink, the laundry basket is overflowing, and the dust from my shoes still litters the floor.

My heart aches at the lack of presence of my long-term girlfriend. She's wanted absolutely nothing to do with me since our fight. She took it so hard that she made Conner come over to pack her bag. I've never seen him want to knock my teeth out as bad as he did when he stopped by on Y/N's behalf.

I step into the hallway, untying my shoes and leaving them at the door because Y/N 'hates the dust and oil that gets tracked in' when I get home. I drop my work clothes down the hallways as I head to the bathroom. By the time I get there I'm only in my boxers. I strip those off as well before climbing into the shower. I turn the water up high, as high as Y/N usually has it when she showers with me. The water burns my skin as it streaks down my back.

I don't know when it started but at some point my eyes started watering and mixing with the steaming shower water. Just as I'm about to break down and call Y/N to beg her to come back to me, my phone rings from the bathroom sink. Dick Grayson is calling! Dick Grayson is calling! Siri tells me. Reluctantly, I poke my head out and push the answer button.

"Wally?" Comes Dick's wearry voice.

"What do you want, Boy Wonder?" I ask, a bit sharper than I intended.

"You really need to come to the Mountain. Like, now." He says before letting out a hiccup.

My heart drops at the sound of Dick's voice. Without a single word of confirmation, I can already imagine what happened. "I'll be right there," I say, ending the call and hopping out of the shower, I race around the apartment, throwing on some decent clothes and pulling out my sneakers from under the bed. "I swear to God... to God Y/N," I mumble, hopping on one foot out of the door as I struggle to put on my shoe.

A million different scenarios and thoughts run through my head the whole six hundred and seventy miles from Central City to Happy Harbor. All the scenarios end with Y/N dead in a box somewhere in the world.

When I get to the mountain I don't slow down, speeding all the way through the mountain until I find Dick. He's sitting in a fluffy chair in the Medbay with his back turned away from the door. Machines beep and buzz next to him as he looks down at the person in the bed in front of him. "Please tell me you're joking," I mumble, slowly walking up behind him.

"I'm not joking Walles," He says back without lifting his head to look at me.

Y/N lays in the bed in front of us. Her H/C hair stands out against the bright white pillow. I can smell her shampoo wafting off of her hair, wrapping me in the familiar smell of her. Her color is washed out of her, leaving her looking lifeless and if I didn't know any better I would believe she was already gone. There's a dark bruise on her check and a bandage wrapped around her forehead.

"What... what happened?" My jaw feels heavy and my mouth feels full of cotton when I finally manage to get the words out.

Dick takes a deep breath in and wraps his hand around hers before he answers. "Y/N, Barbra, Conner and I all went on a mission to scout out Joker's and his goon's newest activity. Conner's dumbass couldn't obey orders so he tried to sneak up on Joker. It failed, like always, and we all jumped in to help. Then..." Dick cuts himself off, bringing Y/N's hand up and gently pushing it against his forehead. He mumbles something to himself in some language - probably Romanian - that I don't understand.

"Then what?" I ask, tears pricking the sides of eyes yet again.

"Then in the middle of the fighting I turned around to check on Y/N and... and she looked back at me, getting distracted by whatever I decided was important enough to yell towards her in the middle of a fight. While she was trying to listen for my command one of Joker's goons bashed her head with a baseball bat." Dick doesn't look up at me once during his explanation, keeping his eyes on my girlfriend.

"What... what's going to happen to her?" I ask, my words shaking as I spit them out.

Dick takes in a deep breath and kisses Y/N's knuckles before he speaks up. "Batman said that there's bleeding internally, which is what caused the coma. We rushed her into surgery but..." Dick snaps off his mask and lays it on the bed. His eyes are red and puffy, just like I'm sure mine are.

Through the years I've forgotten how much he sees Y/N as his little sister and the guilt of that forgetfulness hits me hard right now. "But Bruce said she might not ever wake up. The chances of that happening is slim to none. He wants to know what you want to do. He offered to keep her on life support for a month or so and if she doesn't wake up he... he'll write it off as brain dead."

The words send bullets into my heart. My head hurts and feels heavy with the heart breaking news. "The last thing I said to her.. The last thing she heard from me was... was that I hate her," The last three words come out as a whisper as the tears finally streak down my face. "She's going to die thinking I hate her."

Dick stands up from his chair and reluctantly lets go of Y/N. "It'll be okay. She'll wake up," He says, wrapping his arms around me. I bury my head into his shoulder and wrap my arms around him as well. "She'll wake up and you'll be right by her side," Dick says as my tears start spilling out like a rainstorm. "She knows you love her. She'll wake up," He repeats as I fall apart in his arms, hating myself for the words I'll never be able to take back.

———————————————————————

[bunni-v1]

Bunni’s TWST OC!

🍓Hello! I decided to just bite the bullet and post my beloved OC as well as some info on her. Hope you all can enjoy it! I’m putting it under the cut because it’s LONG, and I don’t want anyone who doesn’t want to see it to have to see it. @acornwinter @the-nightingales-song

TW: Mentions of abuse and past trauma (I am so cruel to my OCs)

Intro: Her name is Mitsumi Kozima, she’s from Kyoto, Japan (you know, like on our planet from our world). She’s lived alone since being separated from her aunt at sixteen. She attends a prestigious art academy on a full ride music scholarship, and made a pretty decent but boring life for herself. Thats how she wanted everything to be, at least. When she suddenly gets run over by a horse drawn carriage (IN THE MIDDLE OF KYOTO???) while saving a helpless little kitten, her life gets way more interesting!

Here are References of her (they’re all old, sorry):

Background: She has no memories before showing up at her “aunts” doorstep at the age of eight. She had nothing but the clothes on her back and the heart-shaped locket with a picture of her father in it, and a little note for the woman who would take her in. It’s like she popped into existence all at once. Her “aunt” initially took her in out of the “goodness of her heart”, but Mitsumi quickly learned it was for appearances. Her “cousin” Hirohito had been suffering multiple types of abuse at his aunts hands for years, and did his best to shield her from his mothers wrath, but could only do so much. Mitsumi learned to blend in, not rock the boat, and most importantly do as she was told. She didn’t have many friends, as she had “imaginary friends” at an age where that thing was unacceptable. Despite all this, she remained as cheery as she could be, holding out hope that her real parents were out there somewhere. Hope that they would find her one day. She did not find real freedom until the day her aunt died during a “horrific break in.”

She separated from her cousin shortly after, using the money she was given after her aunt died to move to Kyoto and make a life for herself there. She found freedom in music, and thus dedicated all her time to learning music. She proceeded to learn six other languages, and knows how to play numerous amounts of instruments. Her school calls her a prodigy, she simply believes she’s hard working.

Personality: She’s a bright, quick witted young woman. She’s academically average, except for the subjects she is particularly interested in — such as history and music. Her professors describe her as hungry for knowledge in most cases. Always doing her best to see the best in others, she is easily taken advantage of, but there’s not a single person she doesn’t believe she could befriend. Still, she has a deep sadness in her that she rarely lets show. She craves adventure and adrenaline, but would rather keep to herself if it means she doesn’t have to be hurt by others. She can adjust her outgoingness to whoever she is around, making her easy to get along with — if not a little difficult to wrap your head around. She’s a friend of extroverts and a lover of introverts.

How she is at NRC: Being thrown into a magical world as a magic less human isn’t all that exciting for normal people. However, for Mitsumi who is quite the opportunist, she is thrilled to be here. Magic is something that only exists in fantasy anime where she’s from, but she just saw a fire breathing cat nearly set a magical talking mirror on fire! If that isn’t cool, she doesn’t know what is. Though, she isn’t used to not excelling in her classes, she’s more forgiving since she missed out on more than just a few years of education here. Being transported here woke her inner sense of adventure, and she can’t help but get herself involved in trouble. Can you blame her, everything here is just so darn exciting! She could even see if there’s a way magic can help her find her parents. The heart locket seems to have a reaction to nearby magic use, nearly burning her skin during overblots, so it seems like she has a lead!

Her most important relationships:

-Ace, Deuce, and Grim are her absolute best friends here! They’re like real siblings that she never got to have, and they take care of her better than her aunt ever did. She really would trust these three (tentatively) with her life. (This applies to all the first years, these three are just the most important by name)

-Vil is the closest thing to a positive motherly figure she’s ever had. While he was scary and mean at first, after he warmed up to her, he’s rather caring and sweet. She particularly likes when he invites her over for “tea” (aka. Sleepovers) with him and rook. He does her hair for her, and sometimes will even take her shopping for new clothes. He is the first person she would go to if anyone upset her, honestly.

-If Vil is her mother, Rook is her quirky step-father. Despite the scars she has (from her aunt and the overblots), he constantly reminds her that she is a beauty and should feel as such. He enjoys her time likely more than Vil does, and is a constant positive person in her life.

-Azul is her dearly beloved, deep rooted crush (that no one in her life sees the appeal of). She always found him quite pretty, but seeing his more vulnerable sides made her heart ache for him. She works in the lounge, which means she gets to see him rather frequently. She’s spent many closing shifts chatting with him for hours on end until Jade or Floyd reminds the two of them that it’s getting rather late, and they both have classes early in the morning. He’d never reciprocate her feelings though (so she thinks), so she’s happy keeping things like this. She has no idea how much she drives him crazy.

Mitsumi twst Lore: This shit is nuts and it’s probably not gonna make sense, but I don’t care. I am cringe but I am FREE!!

Okay so, I alluded to the fact that she belongs in twisted wonderland no so subtly more than once, so let’s get into that.

Mitsumi’s father was a human mage named Wen. He was an extremely talented magician who was capable of mastering some of the most difficult spells known to human and fae alike, but preferred to spend his time studying and writing. He was appointed as the queen’s own scholar, and had a board of men and women who worked beneath him to study whatever he liked. He was born during the era of the great war, but unlike his fellow scholars and royals of the castle, he was not afraid of them. No, Wen was fascinated by them. Their culture, biology, magical systems, and anything he could get his hands on. Frequently he ventured outside of his territories bounds to try and find traces of them, but was rarely successful. That was until the fateful day he met his future wife, Hikari.

Hikari — better known as Princess Hikari Draconia of the Valley of Thorns. Much like Wen, she was particularly curious about humans, and would rather study them than practice and master such simple and easy magic (for her). She had a rocky relationship with her mother and sister, and therefore she has a rocky relationship with the court — aside from her lady in waiting, Jingyi Cheng. She had wanted some space from her mothers oppressive eye, when she ran into this young human in the very woods she sought solace in.

The two spoke, and found their similarities to be evidence that human and Fae can live in harmony. That this war was selfish and senseless. So, they met nearly every week since that day. A week turned into a few days, and a few days turned into every day. The two, unwittingly, had fallen in love with each other. However, the war had begun to escalate, casualties rising on both sides and neither ruler seemed to want to listen to reason. Despite this, their love flourished, and they made the decision to have a child. Maybe that would bring the two sides together. It would give the young prince a companion, after all.

This only seemed to make things worse, however, and both sides saw their baby as a monstrosity. There was a price on the young child’s head in both kingdoms. For a number of years then lived in hiding, far away from any people that could possibly hurt them or their child, however their luck would run out. They would be found by Fae soldiers, and to save their child’s life they gave a grave sacrifice.

Hikari — whose own unique magic she was forbidden from using due to its unstable nature — put her child into a deep sleep, only to be woken in a few thousand years, when things had settled. Wen gave the child an enchanted locket to help guide her back to them when she found her way back into their world. Finally, the child’s magic was sealed away within the same locket. Only small bursts of magic would happen when encountering other magic or magical beings in the world. Their child was safe, for now, but the two were captured and cursed. Hikari was locked away in a mirror, memories wiped. Only a draconian could free her from her eternal prison. Wen was cursed with immortality, forced to wonder the world in an aimless search for his lost family — memories of them haunting him for as long as he lived.

Their child was no better, as her luck seemed to be awful… that was, until she arrived back to twisted wonderland.

🍓Aaaaand that’s it! That’s a lot that I crammed into one post, sorry :/ It’s a bit rambly, but if I went into it like I wanted to this post would be endless. If you need clarification, just tell me!

[arizonaconservativegal]

So what's the update on Arizona certifying election?

It has officially been certified. Now things get boring interesting.

First of all, this marks the start of three automatic recounts: the Attorney General, the Superintendent of Public Instruction, and a legislative seat in the Phoenix area. The AG's race stands at a 511 vote margin with the Democrat in the lead - I don't expect that to flip after the recount but it is possible, so that's one to keep an eye on. The Superintendent's race is led by the Republican and I don't see that changing with a margin of nearly 9k votes. The legislative seat is a recount between two Republicans, so even if that 270 vote margin does flip, it won't change much. There might be some local races heading to recounts too but I'm not aware of any offhand.

Certification also means the start of a five day window for candidates to bring official challenges. I know of several lawsuits that have already been filed or are about to be. I want everyone to understand that those lawsuits will not change the outcome of the big ticket races, even if they go perfectly. They may impact the AG's race. Maybe. Probably not. But if you think Kari Lake is going to sue her way into the governor's office, I'm very sorry to tell you that is absolutely not going to happen. There is also no mechanism for a redo of the election. None of these lawsuits will cause that. More likely than not, the suits will be dismissed and nothing will happen.

Now the fun thing we have at the moment is Cochise County. This small red county in the southeast corner of the state decided to just not certify the election within the legally required time period...? I don't know what they thought they were going to accomplish by doing that. They have since certified it, just late, and only after receiving a court order to do so. It's not like they changed anything by waiting. All they did was incur the wrath of Katie Hobbs, which seems inadvisable since she's about to be governor. But Katie has taken it to another level by basically asking the AG to charge the county officials with a class 6 felony (which carries prison time) for not upholding their constitutional duty to certify the election.

I'm not going to make a judgement about whether that's legally appropriate or not but I am going to say from a political standpoint, Katie's making a huge mistake.

You see, at the same time all this is going on, an Obama-appointed federal judge decided to sanction lawyers for the GOP candidates who earlier this year brought a lawsuit alleging that the voting machines don't work properly and shouldn't be used. That case was thrown out but then Election Day rolled around and funny enough, the machines didn't work. Now again, I don't believe that was nefarious but it does at least prove that the technology is fallible and the campaigns had a reasonable concern about their use. But instead of hoping everyone would forget that he dismissed the case months ago when those concerns were brought up, the judge doubled down and penalized the lawyers on the case for having the audacity to bring the suit.

I want to say again that I do not believe the election was rigged, at least not in the way that everyone thinks elections are rigged, but if you wanted to look like you had done something sketchy and were trying now to cover it up, the Dems couldn't be doing a better job of giving exactly that impression.

And if you're paying close attention to the so-called Twitter Files, you may have noticed that Katie's office was among those who asked Twitter to censor and suppress opposition speech on their platform. Did Katie herself know this was happening? Who knows. It doesn't matter. It looks bad. It looks like a candidate for office and her allies abusing their positions to win an election and retaliate against any one who questions them.

Coming in with a hostile legislature, Katie is setting herself up for a long four years.

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

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.”

[bruins35]

Overnight Diary Entry 3

This is the same night, as I came back from my walk during my break at work. I decided I needed to talk about things that lead to my depression being so bad in Florida. For me to do that, I need to talk a bit about me first.

At a very young age, I believe I was Four years old, maybe Five, I was diagnosis with ADHD, and thrown into Special Education from there on out. You're probably wondering what that has to do with this, well for starters this was the early 90s, and well picture being with other kids that might have a worse learning disability than you, it stagnates your mental age. So going into high school, I told my doctor I wanted off my ADHD medication, and they put me in normal classes with one period for me to be able to get my homework done because I was slow with tests and getting essays done. So now imagine yourself being tossed in high school with your whole peer group and higher grade's when you were just constantly in the class with same students every year, it's jarring. You don't know how to talk to these other kids, you don't know how socialize with all these cliques and groups.

Now I move on to community college where I'm now if i had to give what my mental age was at, I was probably just entering High school for my Mental age. Thankfully I found friends that accepted me, until... half the group didn't after they all made up a lie to ruin a potential relationship because most of them all like this girl too, but she was into me. So, I lost a steady group of friends, but thankfully found more. I found one that to this day is one of my closest friends, and hope she's ready for when we turn 35 because we made a pact to marry each other, might be little jarring for her since I'm a guy and she's into women lol.

Anyways, while I'm still community college, I decided I want to do the DCP (Disney College Program) and pretty much start my life over. I move down there, meet my girlfriend at the time, and then go into whole new fucking world (no pun intended there). I'm probably finally catching up to the correct mental age until now I'm working with "adults" and other college age kids.

Now time to talk about stuff that honestly made my life a living fucking hell. I worked at my all time favorite attraction, and I wouldn't trade that in for the world. Honestly, if it was still their today, I'd probably be back working there. That's how much I loved that attraction and working it everyday. The issue was, I made some "really close friends" there that I thought we all understood each other. Well one friend apparently said I made an inappropriate joke. Now from what I know of this person from friends we have in common, she says some of the most inappropriate and dirty jokes. So they went to management on me, and i was never told the joke i supposedly said. So, no evidence nothing, but people believe them.

Another person, said I constantly hit on them and tried to get them to go out when they have boyfriend. Let me tell you, the first thing this person ever told me was they had BF, I never once flirted with her especially when she told me that. I respect peoples relationships, I won't interfere unless that person is a piece of shit and is abusing or cheating on them. So anyways, this person also apparently went to management, but was never brought to my attention, which makes me think management realized it was all lies.

Now this is when the REAL fucked up shit happens, now for some reason if i do have people reading this, well remember night one/part one the girl I was talking about that finally unblocked me on Facebook, but her now ex who was a "real close" friend of mine didn't unblock me? Well let's give them some fake names because this is where the story is going and I don't want to say she/her, and him/he the whole time. So she will be called Lexi, he will called Richard, and one other girl will be called Connie.

All right, so, Lexi and I used to be FWB, but we both agreed that if we wanted to see other people or hook up with other people we will end things. I held up our end of the deal, and well I soon found out she didn't. Lexi knew about my past relationship, she knew the emotional abuse my ex put me through, so I wasn't ready for commitment yet. Apparently everyone we worked with was wondering when we were to become official, but I honestly was too scared. Well, when i finally thought I was ready to make a commitment to relationship, imagine my surprise when on her Facebook it shows Lexi is now in a relationship with Richard.

I was shocked, hurt, and honestly just tired. Lexi and I connected so much, and had a lot in common that I was finally opening eyes that maybe this could be the one. So, it hurt, and it sucked. I hid my feelings though and congratulated the new couple. Well, I started to date Connie, Connie and I also had a lot in common, maybe even more so then Lexi and I did. But I messed up that relationship, mainly because I didn't really do clubs and she wanted me to go to them, but the real reason I didn't go out was because I was so fucking poor. Disney didn't pay well, I was working so much fucking overtime I barely had time to sleep to pay off my bills. I also at the time cared waaaaaay too much about what my family thought I should date and I stupidly brought I don't think my family would like her so idk if we could be together long term. That's when the relationship truly ended and one of my biggest regrets in my life.

One night Richard and I were on the phone, and honestly all my close guy friends back home we talk about our sex lives. So, I didn't think it was going to be an issue, but I made stupid ass comment about he doesn't need to tell me about his because I know how Lexi was in bed. Like I said dumb fucking ass comment.

Well, after this moment, Richard decided to spread the worst fucking possible thing you can spread. He got a couple other people to help spread that I supposedly raped Connie. Which wasn't true at all, I brought it up to management that these people were spreading this, and then eventually Connie and I had to confront these people about it. Unfortunately the damage was already done. I now had a stigma following me that I'm supposedly a rapist. Connie and I to this day are still good friends, and at one point best friends.

Connie don't be mad at the next part, since I'm sending you link to this.

Connie and I even after we ended things still did almost everything together, either going to cast parties together, going out for food with our fellow cast members, going to the parks with others, or just going to concerts. During all this we still held hands, we were just each others safety net. TBH she still is mine, but we are kind of distant with each other because last year or two years ago my best friend, her friend, and I noticed that her bf of 5 years is giving off some really weird vibes. I was really worried and my friend and her friend thought it felt like abuse potentially happened/happening. I know Connie's history and past relationships, I also know her and G had some really bad arguments. so I texted her our worries and well she told him, and since then we haven't been as close which sucks and I get it, the last thing you want to do is being accused of abuse. I just want you to see it from my point of view Connie. I love you, and I'm sorry I brought up my concerns, just know it was out of goodness of my heart because I care and love ya.

Anyways I think I will end this here, and I might discuss the other stuff that lead me to potential committing suicide, but right now I don't think I'm strong enough to type that out at all.

[contrasting-realities]

Old Glitchtale AU

During 2021 and 2022 I had an AU for glitchtale that was pretty much a side story of season 2. I actually still like this AU even though it's extremely old by my standards, but here we go.

Jamie

An aspiring investigator who loves solving mysteries but can also be very nosy, to the detriment of others at times. She dreams of solving a major cold case and tries to discover the secrets of her city. Eventually gains an ability similar to Ronan but with the power to create electricity between her bullets. She also has incredible intuition and can see things others would overlook.

Oliver Ward (Puppeteer persona only appears on photos/video)

A very shy and timid boy who hates direct confrontation. Carries a rabbit doll with him at all times for emotional support. Oliver is quiet and comes from a lower class background, which taught him responsibility and the value of saving at a young age.

Justine (God this is so old)

A mysterious girl who lives in the woods, she seems to have a goal of some kind and is driven by a strong sense of justice and vengeance for some kind of purpose...

These three are the protagonists, with Jamie being the main character. Jamie is a student at Toriel's school and she is struggling with her magic. Like, she can't summon any weapon to save her life. Due to this she is thrown into the 'magical special needs class' which she isn't happy about, especially since her best friend is dual traited (Integrity/Perseverance) and is gifted at magic. But that's not all, Jamie dreams of being a private investigator when she grows up and is eager to investigate and solve mysteries around the city. So, when she gets dumped into this special class and gets bored, she notices that one of the other students, that being Oliver, seems to be traitless, which confused her because why would a traitless kid sign up for a school for magic?

So Jamie tried to find out the key to this mystery, by stalking Oliver around school and asking others about him. This understandably freaks Oliver out and he tries avoiding Jamie but that doesn't work. After a bit, Jamie vents to her friend about the lack of progress on this 'mystery' since no one has ever seen Oliver's soul or his magic, her friend is annoyed and suggests that she should just ask Oliver what his deal is and Jamie thinks that's a great idea.

Cut to her cornering Oliver in a dark alleyway at lunch and pressuring him like some kind of police investigation, this causes him to have a mental breakdown and Jamie gets her answer. He wasn't traitless, Oliver is one of the few survivors of a trait inversion and his mental breakdown causes a magic outburst of FEAR strings and puppetry. Jamie runs and starts asking how a bravery soul could be brown before Chara arrives and helps protect the kids. Chara chastises Jamie for effectively stalking and bullying her classmate just so that she can get answers, and also explains what an inverted soul is and because of this outburst, Oliver might die from strain on his already damaged soul.

Jamie feels very guilty and tries to help Chara fight these strings despite not having magic before something strange happens. She is attacked by Oliver's magic but is suddenly able to generate electricity after the attack through some kind of trait mutation. She uses this to help Chara and get to Oliver, she apologizes but he can't hear her and she gets tied up by the strings and is forced to fight Chara. While in this state she sees several of Oliver's memories, which detail the severe bullying he went through since he was young by a kid who hated that his parents tried to pamper them despite their poverty, it eventually grew bad enough (physical and emotional abuse, the dots on his hands are burn scars) that he lost his trait and then suffered a soul inversion that caused him to go nuts and kill his bullies, before he nearly died in the hospital later on. Jamie manages to make it to his inner self who understandably wants nothing to do with her but she manages to get him to listen and she apologizes for causing him so much harm, as she didn't know anything about his past.

(Oliver never attempted to defend himself from his bullies because he had a serious imbalance in his soul between the physical and mental aspects, he had effectively no physical bravery which is the opposite of Agate.)

This ends the rampage and both Oliver and Jamie are in tears afterwards, school is closed and everyone goes home. Jamie and Oliver don't meet up until the next day where things are very awkward between them before the teacher addresses yesterday's incident and explains exactly what is up with Oliver before moving on with her lesson. Jamie is ostracized at school after this but Oliver stays by her because he doesn't want what happened to him to happen to her, as that one kid who tormented him spread lies to get everyone else to hate him. Jamie asks him why and Oliver explains this to her, but she is clearly suffering from immense guilt after yesterday.

Oliver winds up going to the doctor after school because of yesterdays incident and the topic shifts to the cost of said appointment since Jamie deduced that his family must not have that much money. Jamie is worried but Oliver brushes her off and says that it's fine, because his parents are taking over loans to cover his medical care. This doesn't calm her and she winds up running to her best friend for help, since her family is loaded, and tells her about Oliver's financial issues. Her friend is not happy to see Jamie after what she did and blows up at her for nearly killing someone, but she does wind up getting her parents to pay for or reimburse Oliver's parents since it's for him but she still isn't happy with Jamie.

Jamie winds up hanging out with Oliver after school since nobody else wants to be around her and she cautiously shows him some of the mysteries she's been investigating. They wind up having fun, as long as it wasn't invading anyone else's privacy or causing harm, and they continue to do so for a while. They bond for about a week before shit really goes down.

They decide to investigate the woods around Mnt. Ebbot due to rumors of the area being haunted by spirits, and while this is a bit uncomfortable, they reason that said ghosts probably weren't the monster kind since they had integrated into human society and that these ghosts were humans who had regrets on Earth... what they find is something else entirely.

They run into Justine for the first time who warns them about going any further, when Jamie asks if she's a ghost she refuses to answer and leaves after Jamie argues with her about everything being fine. Beyond her is... something else entirely, a place that claims to be a famous boarding school in the mountains but from what Jamie and Oliver can see is some kind of cult run by monsters that exploits and abuses human children. Both are shocked by this but decide to run before they get caught.

Justine goes after Jamie late at night, she breaks into her window and tells her to run, not from her, but from those who ran the summer camp because they surely noticed her by now. Jamie says that she's crazy before a magic bullet comes flying at them before Justine stops said bullet with her magic. Jamie runs while Justine fights the monsters attacking her, but several also go after Jamie when she leaves the front door but she knocks them out with her magic and her dad's taser. A few attempt to enter her house but are quickly killed by Justine.

Jamie realizes that Oliver would also be targeted like this and goes to warn him. She somehow makes it to his family's trailer and forces her way inside once his mom opens the door. She wakes up Oliver and screams that they are being targeted but he is confused and only asks her what she's talking about. Jamie explains before Justine is thrown through the wall alongside a strange pink blob monster, she runs back out and fires magic at two more monsters and a few humans. Oliver, Jamie and his mom and dad choose to flee after this.

For a while they stay near government buildings, particularly the AMD office before Justine shows up and claims that it's safe for them to go home because she 'sent a message to them'. They do so and the next day at school a certain pink girl arrives for the first time...

So this is where it overlaps with the Bete Noire incident, Oliver and Jamie run from the city and try to use the chaos as a cover to find more about and stop this cult pretending to be a boarding school. Justine is revealed to be a Bete Noire similar to Betty, but whom was created by a former student to destroy not only the school but the organization running it which turned out to be the monster Illuminati which controlled humanity since the ancient war.

Jamie, Oliver, and Justine manage to lure out this organization's leaders during the chaos of the Bete incident and manage to beat them eventually exposing them to the public. This causes a massive shift as Betty decides that the escaped monsters are none of her concern but that this organization was the real threat. She joins Jamie's group with heavy resistance and most of the glitchtale cast slowly turns around to fight these people. A few more truths come out like how this organization was experimenting on humans (Jamie's reaction to inverted magic is the same as some humans reacting to monster magic but it can happen several time with her) and that they basically have Betty's motives, that monsters will cause war if humans don't control/eradicate them, but in reverse.

[valleyofthe-lily]

Journal Entry #1

My days are pretty normal now. I think I’ve figured out how to function like a regular human being. This was not something I accomplished on my own, of course. A hearty dose of Lamictal, Vraylar, Adderall, and Hydroxyzine have all aided me in my journey of mental stability. That and extensive therapy. It also helps that my new psychiatrist, whom I’ve been seeing for almost two years now, actually believes what I tell him. It’s gratifying, finally being understood by a professional who takes my afflictions seriously. 

I wake up very early now. I always wake up very early when I’m unstable, so, when this began, I was appropriately concerned. I’ve been relatively stable for about ten months now, and I have no interest in reverting to a depressed or hypomanic state. Instability can be interesting or even fun at times, but I’ve found that the pros of hypomania eventually dissipate into the worst depressions I’ve ever experienced. I’ve had so many episodes at this point, all of increasing severity, that I know I can’t afford to go through any others. It’s been long enough now waking up early that it no longer concerns me, though.

I don’t think most people understand just how life-altering a serious depression or manic episode can be. Everytime I have an episode, my life is thrown completely off kilter. I withdraw from school, I lose my scholarships, I can’t work, I spend all the money I have, I don’t have any cares whatsoever. I’m constantly left picking up the pieces and trying to salvage the course of life I was on before. For the first time, I’m convinced that I’ll be able to stick out the stability I’m experiencing for a long time. I think that I’ve finally found the right mix of medications that work for me, with minimal side effects, and my routine and quality of life have never been better.

I don’t think I’ll ever be a happy person, but I’m content with where I’m at, and that’s all I can ever ask for. Even though I’m only taking one class right now, at least I didn’t have to withdraw from all of them again. My medical petition from last year was approved, so I have almost $2000 dollars of scholarship money I had to repay into my student account for tuition next semester. I even have a daily routine now. People who struggle with chronic depression understand just how difficult routines can be to maintain when you can barely even function each day. I think we all understand how important routines are for maintaining stability, but I’ve never been able to successfully sustain one. Now, I sleep a normal seven to eight hours a night (instead of twelve, plus three hour naps everyday), wake up from 1:30 to 5:45 in the morning, do my homework, go to class, eat regular meals, and I make time for myself in the evenings. I’ve also regularly been seeing my friends, and I’ve made a few new ones this year, too. 

Waking up extremely early has been my favorite aspect of my new routine. If I wake up early enough, from one to three, I’ll wake and bake. If I do this, I’ll usually do the dishes, get my laundry out of the way, clean the apartment, make breakfast, and end with a movie. I can usually get all of this done before 8 AM. Despite my currently extremely productive lifestyle, I still struggle in certain areas of my life. I still probably abuse weed; I use it at least once a day. At this point, I’m trying to be intentional about my usage. I no longer do it when I’m bored and have nothing else to do. I found that having a routine with your weed consumption also helps with intentional usage. I’m also still severely addicted to nicotine. I have no excuses for intentional use there. I’ve made a goal to finally quit by the end of the next semester, and, although I’m apprehensive, I’m determined to cut it out of my life. I know it only makes my symptoms worse when I’m in a bad place, and I don’t want it interfering with my progress in any way. Quitting is easier said than done, obviously. Life is looking up for me, though, in all other regards. I’ve been thinking I might actually make it lately.

[frostbite-the-bat]

.

i still cant believe its been basically over a year since the start of my last year at my high school - like i am free from that now.

the first month or SO was pretty breezy - before things get harder and things are still getting started. but still, less breezy than the other years of course, as we already had some dumbass typical-for-my-school bullshit thrown at us.

i was terrified of my finals that were coming later next year, but i was still carrying through. i also began realizing i am basically in pain daily - NOT just my hands. but couldn't pinpoint the cause but i knew that practice where we do laborous physical shit was going to be a nightmare. (it was)

after covid and bad untreated carpal tunnel shit it was a nightmare to go through note-heavy classes too. not being able to pause for even a second or you miss out on important notes, getting weird looks from your teacher. literally gasping for air as your hands cannot handle the sharp pain from having to write this fast. and you're still 'slacking behind'.

that got better and then worse in some days. but. sure. can deal with that. have been dealing with that since.

but at time went on and on i became more and more miserable, more scared of my future. this school was hurting me more and more, being constantly neglected by my teacher. me especially. the others being better at what they did, so they got some special treatment. more time at the more laborous work for me!! it was a painful fucking nightmare both physically and mentally

i dreaded going there everyday. everyday i wanted to drop out - i wanted to get out of that god damn hell school. as things got worse so did my thoughts... and yet i made it! i managed to get through. i did it.

at this time last year i would've been already going through so much shit. and yet i'm here. like. i've actually done it. i lived. did i deserve that?? did anyone deserve that treatment we got there?? absolutely fucking not.

in all fucking seriousness i couldnt be happier right now doing nothing, even if it does get to my brain sometimes. even if i know i wont get good treatment in the future, possibly. but even then there's still a future for me. even if still under my parents - if i do get a job i can just quit i will not be tied to a shitty teacher and possible legal trouble if i dont attend. this teacher who also likes getting too personal and nice and then whips out some of the most cruel most insulting shit you could imagine. i hope shes fucking happy quitting the job after essentially abusing me and my classmates. i hope shes happy doing her own thing after screaming and yelling at me and telling me to cry harder when i did a simple mistake. i hope she's fucking proud of herself for this. i hope she knows how miserable we all were during her classes, or rather, the lack of them, as she never taught us anything and made us do her own personal event shit for her. i hope she knows i dont ever plan on doing anything in my life thats like what i studied at this school and graduated from basically because im so scarred by it.

seriously. how was any of this legal. it cant be. i feel so sorry for any future students, but also happy, since they wont have to deal with HER anymore.

i do not, honest to god, plan on going back to any school anytime soon, and i'm just fine staying unemployed for now even if just.. completely under my parents. i cant do shit anyway. but god im happy to just.

rest finally after all that. nobody deserves that. looking back and not living through it anymore makes me realize how fucked up it was. its so surreal. im not dealing with that anymore.

but god is it going to haunt me for a long time.