Thinking about the 141 with a Dog Hybrid! Reader who's unruly, who's quick to growl and puff up over things they don't like, who plays their part beautifully on the field but the moment they're out of combat, its like they're back to being strangers
Dog Hybrid! Reader who tucks away into corners, never cowering but quiet, cautious, wary gaze tracking anyone who moves just a bit too quick or laughs a bit too loud, but they don't think much of it- Ghost's the same way after all. You still have their backs in the field, you still swap banter over comms, you still join them for meals in the mess hall
They don't see it coming, honestly, but Simon doesn't blame you one bit for it.
On your way back from training, trailing after your Lieutenant, you're still wound up, recent recruits too loud and too rowdy where they walk along with the two of you. Ghost can see the way your jaw shifts, tongue no doubt nervously tracing your teeth, ears ramrod straight and tail stiff where it bobbed with each step. He could see the fur bristled slightly, just enough to stick up, and he thought he saw it coming when a recruit got a bit too close while roughhousing, knocked into you, made you bark sharply and snap your teeth, wanting the rookie out Out Out of your space, Now
Ghost, without thinking twice, reached out and clamped his hand around the back of your neck, attempting to scruff you
You whipped around faster than he could blink, white hot pain racing up his arm as your teeth sank into his wrist, blood dripping out between your fangs and down to the linoleum floors
He grunted in reflex to the deep ache, your gaze cleared- you released his arm in a flash, his blood smeared around your mouth
The hall had gone dead silent, the recruits stunned into shock, and Simon stared at the bite wound on his arm before turning his gaze to you, who shrank away. "Kid, wh-" He tried to question, but a full-body flinch stopped him in his tracks, and he could only stand and watch as you muttered an apology and bolted away, fur standing on end and ears pressed against your head.
Later, in medical, the bite thoroughly cleaned and bandaged, he vehemently denies any insinuation that you could've meant to hurt him
He'd seen your eyes, just before they'd cleared and you realised the taste of iron in your mouth wasn't imagination- blank, unseeing, animalistic, terrified
Simon didn't know what your life before the 141 was like, but he felt like it was time they put their heads together and put effort into actually Knowing you


















