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I wanna write Hades (the game) stuff but I'm not actually that heavy on Greek mythology so I'm scared of losing my gay nerd cred if I mess up. I'm on the site for gay nerds with encyclopedic knowledge of mythology and I'm pulling up to the function with naught but a lil crush on Hephaestus.
Hey, love your writing. I was wondering if you would be comfortable writing a fic of Mercy (Overwatch) x gender neutral readers who deals with chronic pain (e.g. some form of hypermobility)? Hope you have a great day
Thanks for the request, I'm always happy to write more Mercy, she gives me so much joy. I made sure to do research on chronic pain and hypermobility as well, so I hope I presented it well.
☆ Mercy x Reader with Chronic Pain ☆
Angela was incredible. As a doctor, she had a third sense for your pain and was always ready to push you away from work, though sometimes she would hypocritically overwork herself. In return, you would force her to relax with you, resulting in many evenings spent curled up together under blankets on the couch in quiet comfort, listening to her talk about her hectic day.
Of course, the both of you had your stubborn moments where you'd insist work was more important than wellbeing, but there was a simple solution. Angela's greatest folly was her senseless humour, much to the dismay of her coworkers. And the Internet was host to many lame medical puns and unfunny memes. If your open arms, warm drinks and puppy-dog eyes somehow failed to tempt her, holding out a semi-joke with a mascot making a silly face somehow always landed the final blow, sending her to tears with laughter infectious enough to bring you down alongside your lover. For you, her goofy grin and elated eyes as she giggled her way through a terrible punchline was an infallible way to distract you from stress.
Her reasoning was flawed, but well meaning. She had a bad habit of straying on the protective side, sometimes overlooking your treatments to insist on improvements. Some doctors found it irritating, but none could argue with one of the world's greatest scientific minds. However, this protectiveness made her wary of letting characters like Reinhardt or Cassidy (with their penchant for trouble) possibly bother your peace. Your presence was her quiet within the storm, and she'd put up with teasing remarks if it meant protecting you from the chaos of her occupation. The last thing she wanted was the rabble she called her friends feeling welcome to crash through your life and break your coffee table.
Unfortunately, your endorsement lead her to share with companions not enough endeared to her to find it charming. As such, her friends soon grew sick of hearing your name as justification - especially since she wouldn't let them meet you!
"Mercy, 'luv, where do you get these?" Tracer groaned with the whole squad (except Torbjörn, possibly the only person alive to genuinely share her sense of humour).
"I'll have you know, my partner finds it funny."
"Sure, sure. We'll believe it when we finally meet the lucky someone."
"Dream on."
Her reluctance eventually made you paranoid, questioning whether she was simply embarrassed to be seen together. After another chance to meet the people you'd heard so much about was declined, you confronted her, bringing up your insecurities. Your earnestness gave her pause, as she really considered what she'd been overlooking.
"Love, you're perfect, and I'm sorry for ever making you feel otherwise. I just feel scared to introduce you to such a dangerous life, please understand. But you're right, you should be able to make that choice for yourself. If you want to, I'll introduce you to Overwatch. I'm sorry for being so silly," she pulled you further into her arms, trying to diffuse all her love for you into the embrace, complete with a kiss that soothed your worries like a balm.
As for meeting Overwatch, they were a predictably odd group. At first you were grilled, making you realise how much she must've shared about you as the questions got surprisingly personal. But they quickly warmed to you. To Angela's relief, they were the opposite of a burden on you - in fact they were all extremely encouraging. You found yourself with a horde of cheerleaders, happy to support you just as you and Angela always do for each other. You also ended up with fifteen physical therapists volunteering (fighting) for your company.
I really loved your RDR2 x nb!reader, it made me feel warm and fuzzy inside
I was wondering if you could do the same, but with Kieran and Hosea; they're my favorites
If not, that's okay! I hope you have a wonderful day
Yooo my first ever request, happy days! It means a lot, thank you.
☆ Kieran and Hosea with a Nonbinary Reader ☆
Kieran Duffy
He wants to impress you soo bad all the time, it's embarrassing to watch. He'd puff up his chest and really emphasise your preferred pronouns when he spoke to you, watching you keenly for any hint of appreciation. At first you thought it was weird and performative but he was a sweetheart otherwise, so you'd happily take his company over someone less agreeable. And once the two of you could comfortably be called friends, he'd found way more important things to impress you with. Ironically, his shift to addressing you casually made you admire the respect he showed when he wasn't even trying.
Hosea Matthews
His desire to be useful to you extends to when the two of you are out. If people give you shit, his timidity is quickly forgotten in favour of defending your honour, even if you could do so yourself. Just please back him up before he loses his nerve.
You've never felt more comfortable than when you're with Hosea, time together always feels effortless. The deep trust the two of you share is constant, from the elaborate heists to the quiet moments shared in private, when only the moon can intrude on you. There was never a doubt that he wouldn't accept all of you wholeheartedly and he proved it a hundredfold.
For him, there was nothing particularly odd about you - he's been on the road a while, and he's the understanding sort, so he's been acquainted with similar people and found them to be decent folk.
His authority around camp is definitely used to your advantage, but he opts to use it to force people to listen while he explains why they ought to be respectful. He's equally talented at negotiation outside of camp, often shutting down fights before they can even start.
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☆ How will our favourite green murder hobo cope with being flung into a strange new world? ☆
☆ tw for violence, Lae'zel kills a mindflayer ☆
It was a Wednesday. A slow Wednesday. Slower than Wednesdays normally are. The biggest event of today? Digging up a tub of ice cream from your freezer before returning to bed to watch wealthy middle aged women fight on TV. Then, a flash of green bolted through your open window, crashing into the table. Before you could adjust, the blade previously on your counter was at your throat.
"You will be quiet, istik! Unless you'd like me to liberate your bones of their flesh."
Trembling, you managed to nod your head as your eyes adjusted to the rugged maniac before you. First, you noticed her slitted pupils, then the smudged heavy eyeliner framing them. Then, the green pigment to her scarred skin. Next, her upturned nose, small like the prick of a pin. Following the bone of her cheek, your eyes travelled to the point of her ears, curved and sharp as a blade.
"Weakness. Useful, for now." Her freckled (spotted?) face only scowled deeper. "You will tell me where we are, what is happening and how I might return to my home plane."
"We... We're in my kitchen..." you flinched as the blade closed in. "You're threatening me... And I don't even know where you came from, nevermind how to get you home. I'm sorry!" Your heart and mind raced, preparing for the worst. Is this how it ends? Stabbed up in your pyjamas by a feral lizard thing, all because you don't know how to achieve interdimensional travel? Is that considered an embarrassing way to go? It's not exactly flattering but it'll at least be a scary story for the kids you don't have. Maybe you'll end up in those true crime videos, you shudder at the thought. Think, think, there has to be a way out of this that doesn't end with your mysterious demise sandwiched between ad reads for sketchy online therapies and shitty mobile games... Your mile-an-hour ruminations were interrupted by a harsh knocking on the door.
"Tas'ki. If you wish to retain all your limbs, you will deny I was here." The stranger's wide eyes were manic, not pleading but demanding desperately for compliance. Strangely (or perhaps not, considering your threatened status), you wanted to calm this volatile being. Before you could nod, your throat was mercifully spared as she dashed through the nearest door. You closed the bedroom door behind her, watching her bury herself in the clothes piled up in the bottom of your wardrobe.
The moment she was fully obscured, the knocking resumed, angrier and accompanied with a grunting voice, "Open up, it's for your own safety. We're looking for a criminal." Cautiously, you risked a peek round the front door, finding an intimidatingly serious group of three towering figures, with faces obscured by visored helmets. "We got report of her coming in through your window. She's dangerous, you ought to let us check."
Could these people be trusted? They were right, the stranger was dangerous. Yet despite your fear, you couldn't help but feel allied with her. Her fear was palpable, overshadowed only by your own. Meaning you had more common ground with her than the coldly unflinching party imposing on your home. Despite your better judgement, your mouth was already retaliating, "Hey, are you really allowed to just barge into someone's house?" A valiant but ultimately fruitless effort as you were unceremoniously pushed aside by a gloved hand, feeling the pinch of sharpened talons from within.
Coughing uncomfortably, you shrunk yourself into the wall, trying urgently not to draw attention to your occupied bedroom. You had a feeling any confrontation between the forces before you would result in dead bodies that you didn't want to be burying (presuming you wouldn't be one of them). Your unwelcome guests rummaged through every nook and cabinet in your cramped kitchen before splitting up. To your horror, one broke off to explore the bedroom. Noticing everyone else was preoccupied, your curiosity led you to follow like a foolish cat knowingly edging closer to oncoming traffic.
With stealth you didn't know you possessed, you slipped into the room and silently closed the door behind. Thankfully, no comment was made about the white ladies paused screaming at each other on your laptop screen. They started with inspecting your bed, recklessly tossing your blankets and pillows about. They then knelt down on your spilled blanket, ducking to check under the desk and bedframe. Finally, they reached for the handle of the wardrobe, either unaware or uncaring of your presence. Throwing the doors open, they lingered, before reaching for the pile of clothes containing your fugitive. Holding your breath, you watched as their hand paused, appearing to make contact with a solid entity. Said entity grabbed onto their wrist, confronting you with a decision of allegiance that was swiftly resolved when she yanked the helmet off her opponent, revealing a pink-purple fleshy exposed brain and wriggling tentacles originating from where a mouth would be. Concluding that nobody here is the obvious choice, you opted to at least make good on the promise to your first home intruder by reaching down to pull at the blanket beneath the creature with unexpected strength, leaving it prone upon the floor. Realising her opportunity, your unlikely ally lept from hiding, an old pair of underwear you'd given up on looking for caught on the spine of her left ear.
Wordlessly, your disruptor turned saviour bunched up the torso of an old shirt beneath the tentacles, silencing the beast if its muffled growls was anything to go by. To finish her macabre performance, she fastened the sleeves around its throat and pulled, the crack of its neck quieted by the fabric. Panting, she met your gaze and nodded with something resembling approval.
Looks like your alliance had been forged, for now. Now you just needed to figure out what to do with the other two, who the hell your new acquaintance was and why you thought that was kinda hot.
☆ ft Arthur Morgan, Charles Smith, Mary-Beth Gaskill, Lenny Summers, Sean Macguire ☆
☆ Of course, nonbinary is the modern term but people existing outside of the gender binary existed and were classed under other names in 1899 such as "intermediates" ☆
Arthur Morgan
He couldn't say his initial comprehension was perfect but you bet he's going to respect you no matter what. When you've been roaming as much as he had, you find a wide range of people and he cares a whole lot about you regardless. He's very receptive to learning and being corrected when he does slip up, you're more than worth any effort in his eyes. The last thing he wants to do is bother you by being a fool.
He'll also stand up for you, but he's not always confident about it. He just figures you'd be able to explain better than him. However, he'd start speaking up for you if he can tell people are wearing you down, because you deserve to be treated right in his eyes. And god help anybody who deliberately tries to give you trouble, especially if it puts you in danger.
Charles Smith
You caused him to remember something similar from his childhood (this being the two-spirit identity found in Native American cultures, though two-spirit is also a contemporary term for something that differs between tribes) which immediately helped him comprehend what you were communicating. And he thinks it's really admirable, just another reflection of your strength and openness. You're a breath of fresh air and he appreciates the beauty in that.
Now if anyone tries to give you shit? They'd better be ready for a fist in their face, if they're lucky. How bad they'll get hurt depends on how much they've pissed him off - which is usually directly proportional to how much you're upset. He knows how hostile people can be to things that are different to them. So he's always looking out for you, ready to step in or back you up.
Mary-Beth Gaskill
It's so interesting to her! She thinks it's romantic, to be able to live as free as you do. She works tirelessly to get everything right and constantly asks questions to understand you as much as possible. With that knowledge, she also helps everyone at camp who may otherwise struggle or be close minded.
However, her questioning eventually starts to sound more like an interview. You wonder why until you get to peek at what she's currently writing - a romantic tale with a suspiciously familiar protagonist.
If you're out together, she does stick up for you when needed but she's shrewd about it. She can generally assess whether it would be safest to kindly explain or just walk away. Shaking her head in disapproval, she'll remark that some folk are just gonna be jackasses, no point paying 'em any mind.
Lenny Summers
He's intelligent, he wraps his head around you with relative ease. What he struggles with is doing the same with his arm, poor guy. He's proud to be the quickest to pick it up and will sometimes boast, but it's mostly in the hopes of catching your attention. Unfortunately for him, this makes it embarrassing when he does mispeak. But fortunately for you, other gang members have become more vigilant in catching him out, practising in order to one-up the smug kid.
Otherwise, he will treat you the same. But he can tell when other people don't, and it pisses him off. Especially when it's someone like Micah or Bill, who should know how valuable you are to the gang, so why does your gender matter? Sometimes, he'll get more riled up than yourself, leaving you to either console him or help him teach whatever asshole picking on you to never do so again.
Sean Macguire
"Hey! He's a them!"
He tries, bless his heart. And eventually he will get it, just please exercise patience. It's evident that he doesn't intend to hurt you - he's hasty to apologise if your expression even betrays a sliver of discomfort. He really does try, it just doesn't always pay off. But when it does, he looks like he's just won a contest.
He will happily pick fights over it. Even if you don't care or want to give the benefit of the doubt, he will be standing up for you, loudly. He may not be the best debater but he's found his fists do the persuading just fine. You don't even need to be present, he returned once bloodied and muddied, proudly regaling how he'd defended your honour against the vile speculations of strangers at the saloon. Either he's impressed you, or you'll be patching him up - he wins regardless.
You were losing blood. Fast. From what Angela has told you, you remember that this is not good. She probably told you more but it was hard to recall much when you could feel your own lifeblood draining through your fingers, staining them crimson.
Right, Angela. Angela. Last time she patched you up was when you'd got hurt during training. You insisted it was just a scratch but she was all over you, double checking she'd done everything right. You'd never felt so cared for, like your own wellbeing mattered more than whatever mission you were on. The way she looked at you was seered into your brain, her eyes so full of care and confidence, drawing you into that vanishing point until you couldn't feel any pain. You envisioned them once again as your knees buckled, ungraciously landing yourself on the rough metal ground.
"Look at me. You will be okay." You're half convinced the doctor's voice is a hallucination until you obey her request, your head pounding as you manage to meet her gaze. Contrary to your dishevelled state, Angela appears the epitome of confidence. The only evidence of any disarray is blood you gather to be yours splashed on the white plating of her armour. You bow your head with relief, tearing away from her magnetic steady eyes to watch her hands expertly stop the bleeding.
What you don't notice is the worry breaking through her calm exterior the second you look away, as the doctor wondered what would've happened if she wasn't always keeping an eye out for you.
Sombra
Your missions required trust between yourself and Sombra. You had to focus on your own tasks, knowing that the other could be in danger but chosing to believe they will be safe.
So when Sombra returned to find you crawling for support, leaving a trail of scarlet behind you, she silently scolded herself for leaving you alone. Cursing under her breath, she crouched to your level, quickly cupping your face with shaking hands to pull you closer for inspection. She mirrored your pained wince at the sight of you before adopting that familiar smirk she knew you were enamoured with.
"Hey. Not the best time for a nap," she tried to quip with a forced chuckle. "Stay low, I'll get help. Yeah, just like that."
With that, she zipped away, leaving you to stare at the ground below with a shaky gaze. Sombra was rarely serious, that was something you loved about her. Yet you could feel the way her hands quivered, hear the strain in her tone as she tried to joke with you. It hit you all at once just how much she must care about you, to have so quickly shattered her carefree demeanor. Despite your battered state, you couldn't help but smile softly at her when she returned, Baptiste in tow.
"Hurry up already. See, they're already going delusional." Sombra chided him, gesturing to your nonsensical smiling. You wanted to tell her it was fun to see her like this, but it felt like you'd throw up if you tried to open your mouth right now.
Once you were stabilised, she never left your side during the rest of the fight. Sometimes she needed to go invisible to avoid getting in trouble for it, but she was always the stubborn sort. Since then, you've noticed trackers lodged into your gear whenever you had a mission.
☆ ft: Python, Silque, Jesse, Sonya ☆ Bonus HCs of Kamui, Mathilda, Leon ☆
☆ GN reader as always ☆
☆ Do people read self insert for this game? Either way I may as well live up to my pfp ☆
Python
Despite his carefree exterior, Python has had occasional restless nights when he feels all too aware of the war around him. So you both ended up outside late at night, trying to calm your minds. On his way out, Python nearly tripped over your body laying by the long dead campfire.
He grumbled at first but then noticed the bags under your eyes and sat beside you, asking if you were alright. He was be pushing you to get some sleep but if you absolutely refused to return to bed, he would concede and walk away. You thought he might have abandoned you until he returned with a blanket and a book - notably an extremely uninteresting manual on spear upkeep from Forsyth's collection which was promptly pushed into your arms.
He sat with you in the pretense of reading together until you eventually nodded off from sheer boredom. A method that he's had to resort to a number of times. A self-satisfied grin found its way onto his face seeing you resting on his shoulder, but he didn't bother moving you to a bedroll so you woke up on the hard ground. At least he left the blanket over you.
Silque
She happens to stay up a bit later than expected, following her regular nighttime ritual. So she could hear you stomping around outside, frustrated at your inability to sleep.
Your grumbling was interrupted by a hand grabbing your wrist in concern. When you explained you just had trouble sleeping, you saw Silque's jaw tighten in consideration before her eyes lit up. Before you could protest, you had been dragged inside and an unfamiliar substance was being firmly rubbed into your face.
Realising your confusion, she explained that having a ritual every night helped her to relax, so maybe you might benefit from it too. And to your surprise, you found yourself soothed by the cool balm and her carefree chatter. You drifted into an easy sleep, Silque chuckling at your curled form beside her.
You awoke in your own bedroll with a pot of the lotion beside you, along with a note promising more if you ran out or company if you needed a chat. Not only did you find your sleep improving, but your skin was also in better condition than usual. Plus you'd seek her out much more often, to both of your delight.
Jesse
Did Jesse help your insomnia? Not at all. But he'd already noticed you struggling to sleep, he's surprisingly perceptive when it comes to people. So he just so happened to be awake to notice the lamp in your tent alight when the rest of the camp was resting.
Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a knock on your tent. And a familiar voice asking you to come out. He'd understand your hesitation, he doesn't have the best reputation in your army but he'd stand his ground until you stepped out.
To your surprise, he greeted you with concern over your sleeping habits. Had you really been that obvious? Before you could ponder the question, you were being dragged into the forest with Jesse explaining that he always finds walking clears his thoughts. Any skepticism you may have had were dissolved by his easy chatter, creating a surprisingly welcoming atmosphere.
Until you were ambushed by bandits, that is. You both did your best to defend yourselves but the walk ended with Jesse carrying you back to camp, apologising profusely for getting you into this mess. Maybe your adrenaline was pumping a bit too much to sleep now, but at least you weren't alone.
Sonya
She pitied you. Such a beautiful face and yet your potential was sullied by a constant tired expression, complete with eyebags and frequent yawns. She was also already fond of you, thanks to your frequently entertaining conversation. Otherwise, she wouldn't be taking you aside while everyone was eating to ask about your sleep habits. After hearing how much you struggled, she offered to keep you company that night.
So she kept the campfire stoked for you to meet her that evening, patting the space on the log beside her when everyone else had dispersed. She was happy to sit and listen to all your concerns, doing her best to put your mind at ease.
Worried you're not pulling your weight? Sonya quickly reminded you how essential you've been to this army. Worried you won't win the war? You forget you were sided with one of Valentia's deadliest mages. Worried you won't live to see the end of the fighting? It's important to remember, said deadly mage was willing to eliminate any threat to your safety.
And if any of your insecurities regard your appearance, you're sat in front of a mirror before you can even blink with Sonya's soothing voice pointing out everything she sees in you. Her only complaint? Those terrible eyebags. So please, go to bed!
You find your mind uncharacteristically at ease when you finally retire to your bedroll.
Bonuses:
Kamui
He wants to help you, he really does. But the second the two of you get inside a tent, he's flat on his stomach asleep. At least he's comfy?
Mathilda
Too much energy at night? She knows something you two could do... You were not enthused about doing laps of the campsite at midnight, but at least she was right there beside you, cheering you on.
Leon
One thing he's brilliant at is the coverup. He's worked a couple minutes into his morning routine for helping you cover up your eyebags. He'd worked hard to find the perfect shade for you, so you'd better sit still and let him work his magic.
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☆ also ft very short drabbles for: Keegan P. Russ, Nikto ☆
John 'Soap' MacTavish
Soap is the type of person who effortlessly gets along with any animal. So when your cat bit him, you watched his entire face crumple in crushing disappointment. Even after you'd reassured him thrice that the fluffy thing would warm up to him, you could tell his ego was bruised.
What surprised you was when the stubborn bastard returned with a bag full of treats, immediately causing the cat to perk up. Next thing you knew, he was all over Johnny, wailing like a little siren until he got a little treat. And it worked flawlessly because afterwards he couldn't be separated from his lap. Soon enough you could trust that whenever you and Johnny were home together, the ungrateful git would spend all his time on Johnny, curled up and purring a storm. If you tried to complain about him stealing your cat, you'd just get a laugh as he passed your baby back to you - which only doubled when he lept out of your arms and trotted back to Johnny. You'd be angry if the two didn't look so cute together, your boyfriend softening as he absentmindedly ran a hand over his back.
Simon 'Ghost' Riley
As soon as your dog saw a large stranger walk through your door, it was on sight. To your embarrassment, your boyfriend was subjected to nonstop growling as he tried to make himself comfortable on your couch.
Apologising, you went to get him a drink but you almost dropped it in surprise when you returned to find him growling back at her. As soon as he noticed you, he stopped, face immediately reddening. Laughing, you tried to pull him in for a cuddle only to be interrupted by your little angel trying to worm her way in-between the two of you. His playful retaliation only made her angier as she tried to push him away with her paws.
Eventually, she had to be locked in another room whenever he was round because they both upset each other, which eventually become more frustrating than funny. It finally had to be addressed when she tried to claw into his shoulder, leading to you needing to calm her down after his understandably aggressive reaction. Holding tight to her collar, you forced the two of them to reconcile by cuddling both of them close next time you watched a movie, forcing her to relax and get used to his presence.
Logan Walker
He doesn't know how to explain it, but your pet rats? They freak him out. You both laughed about it when he spotted a tail in the corner of his eye and had a 'reasonable' reaction (he climbed onto the couch like a cartoon). Honestly, you were just surprised to find a way to genuinely scare your otherwise unflappable boyfriend.
After reassuring him that they were securely in their cage, he finally calmed down and settled into your arms. Until he heard a squeak suspiciously close by and froze up again. Your nonchalance when you explained that their door was faulty baffled him, you mean you just let them run around?
You scooped one up in your hands, petting her fur gently as you held her out to him. He stubbornly shook his head but you insisted until he relented and tentatively reached out to poke her. The harsh touch scared her off, only freaking him out more when the little thing suddenly scampered out of your hand.
But Logan is nothing if not committed, if you love these little weirdos then he has to understand what you see in them. You told him they were cute, but he couldn't begin to understand. Until one day he walked in on you bundled up in blankets, cooing happily at them as they ate out of your hands and he started to understand.
Bonus rounds:
Keegan P. Russ
Yes he's an adult. Yes he'll also argue with your fish. Why not? The freaky little thing keeps looking at him funny, he will stop making out to give it a dirty look in return. He just figures you must be an angel to find something to love in a creature so ugly it belongs in a museum.
Nikto
At first you assumed he was a Disney princess from the way he easily conversed with your budgies as if he fully understood them better than he did people. It was strange, hearing a discussion half spoken and half chirped but it was endearing so you didn't stop him. Though one day you gasped and delicately covered a little one's ears when he called its father a "grouchy little bitch."
When you asked he simply explained, "Birds are easier. They have better humour."
Hope you're ready to stay on your toes, you just started a prank war with a rocket scientist. As soon as she spotted the card on the table, she'd started planning up new inventions to retaliate with. Your reactions would be priceless, she couldn't wait to show off her ideas.
First was the 'animal translator' she attached to your cat that kept talking about world domination. You both laughed at that. The fridge being modified to say your name when you were alone in the kitchen was less funny. The TV only being able to play Real Housewives of Zuzu even less so. But she laughed through it all, even when you fumed at the robot stealing your keys.
A month later, when the can you'd thrown in the bin was spat back at you, you finally had to put your foot down. She was sat in her room, soot on her face as she tinkered away at another invention that was suspiciously you shaped. You had to clear your throat to draw her focus from programming its dance function. The way her eyes lit up, when you saw it almost made you reconsider, it was always amazing to see her creativity. But then it started singing and you had to call it off. A prank war just wasn't fair when one of you was a genius inventor.
To her credit, Maru immediately realised how far she'd taken it and apologised for the next day. It was just so much fun to see you respond to her creations, she'd got carried away. But she vowed that her creations would only make you happy from now on. She kept the dancing robot though.
Shane
It was a joke, right? Right? He's pretty sure it was a joke. If it was, very funny. And it's definitely not a secret hint that he's fucking it up, because you'd tell him if he was fucking it up. But what if you had told him and he wasn't listening? Or you wanted to but you didn't want to hurt his feelings? For some reason, you cared about those a lot. Fuck, has he done anything wrong lately? He was a bit grumpy a few days ago, was definitely harsher than he'd meant to be. He apologised, but was that enough? You didn't deserve that, he didn't deserve your patience, didn't deserve you.
Fine, maybe he had spiralled just a bit. He still managed a laugh when you got home, but you noticed that his smile didn't reach his eyes, how his voice wavered. So you firmly grabbed his face and shook it lightly, assuring him that you'd never want a divorce.
Only then did he start genuinely laughing, cupping your hands on his cheeks with his own. Because it was funny, the way you were shaking his head like you could dislodge his doubts. Maybe they were a bit too stubborn for that, but the fact you were trying at all reminded him that you were just as stubborn.
Leah
Her first response to reading the card addressed to her on the table was to laugh. Oh, you're divorced now? Well if you say so. She teased you all day, constantly turning away from you.
"Don't mind me, just packing up. Since I don't live here anymore."
"Why are you asking what I want to eat? We're divorced now, remember?"
"Sorry, this is my bed. This space here would be for a spouse, if I still had one."
You're begging for forgiveness by the time it's evening, finally cracking her up enough to drop the act. Still smirking, she grabbed your arm and pulled you back into bed. As you settled down, her arm dropped over you as she muttered something about what you two would do if you were actually splitting up, before concluding that it'll never happen.
Harvey
He doesn't know what to make of it at first. Was it a joke? He didn't think getting divorced was very funny. And if you were, he definitely wouldn't be getting a 'Single and Ready to Mingle' card about it.
When he needed relationship advice, he'd normally resorted to asking for help. Firstly from Maru, but she wasn't working today. So his next choice was his aerobics class. Which might've been a mistake, since they seemed to be less attuned to your sense of humour than he was.
Marnie was telling him to think back on everything he's done in the past month because this was a passive aggressive hint. Jodi warned him to spend more time with you, you clearly wanted more attention. Pam insisted that this meant you were secretly a heartless bastard all along, though he tried to defend your character.
His final option for advice was you, which was a bit embarrassing until he remembered that you've seen each other naked so this can't be too bad. He still didn't quite understand why it was funny, but he still hung onto the card, a little token of your humour.
Haley
She rolled her eyes when she read inside the card, "Goodbye forever" with a little broken heart. You think this is funny? You're not laughing when your little joke is pinned on the town's notice board for everyone to tut at. She knew because she was watching for when you'd pass by, camera at the ready in case you made a stupid face.
And she wasn't disappointed, your pure confusion at why Evelyn was telling you to sort out your marital spats maturely was only trumped by how quickly your face fell when you read 'No Marriage No Problems' next to the town calendar. The photo of your tomato blush and widened eyes was perfect to embarrass you with later.
Don't worry, she eventually stepped in when Mayor Lewis tried to reprimand you for inappropriate use of public property, taking the blame herself. She also made it up to you by pinning the photo of you completely red in the face in the privacy of your own home instead of for the whole town to see. This way, your adorably flustered face is for her eyes only.
☆ COD Characters with actual literal ghost!Reader ☆
Σ(°△° ꪱꪱꪱ)
☆ I wanted a silly scenario for my first post, I promise I'll also write normal stuff too ☆ Reader is GN ☆
☆ ft: Gaz, Ghost, Roach, Nikto ☆
☆ Ghosts work differently for each scenario, please don't question it ☆
Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick
Kyle knew he was being haunted. He had been for years. His only regret was that you'd died at all, that he had to bury his best friend, his sweetheart. But once you'd managed to crawl back to haunt him? He was surprised by how easily he could fall into a new dynamic with you. Then again, everything with you was easy.
"Babe, you know I look crazy talking to myself?" Gaz stood seemingly alone with a drink, muttering under his breath to someone only visible to himself.
You floated closer to him, devious smirk on your face, "Maybe you are crazy."
"Nice try, love." He managed a chuckle, but in truth, sometimes he did wonder. The grief had hit him hard, part of him feared that one day he'd find out you were only a daydream. A wonderful, beautiful, pestering daydream.
"It's a new haunting strategy I'm working on. It's called gaslighting. You like it?"
He scrunched his nose, "Not really."
"I'm sorry..." Your ghostly hands cupped his face, making him shiver. It was reassuring to him. He could feel you. Make sure you're real.
Still, he continued to frown. Slowly, he raised his straw to his mouth and took a drink, never breaking eye contact with you.
"So cruel!" You gasped. "You know I miss my favourite drink."
He raised his voice, looking away from you, "Mm, this tastes so good. I'm all alone, enjoying a lovely refreshing beverage. It tastes like..."
He savoured the sweet contact of your fists in his shirt, even if you playfully called him a heartless monster.
Simon 'Ghost' Riley
Simon's had to work in some shocking offices over the year but this was ridiculous. He could understand why the room was abandoned, ignoring the fact it had half burned down years ago. The uncontrollable chill (even when he'd shut all the windows) he could handle. He could even ignore the light occasionally flickering (even when he'd changed the bulb). But it was pretty bloody hard to work when his reports kept getting thrown across the room. Doubly so when the door locked, preventing him from leaving at all. So by the time night had fallen, revealing the ghostly form of a person? He wasn't in the best mood.
"Just what I fucking need, a fucking ghost. You'd better let me out this room or-"
He stopped when his brain had finally caught up with his mouth and realised he should've been scared. But he couldn't bring himself to be. You just looked so... sad?
"I'm sorry... Nobody's talked to me for so long..." your voice warbled, like you hadn't spoken in years. "I just wanted to be seen for once..."
And fuck, didn't he understand the feeling? He looked you over silently, taking in your shaky form. "Tell me your name."
You whispered it, then again to make sure it was heard. "I'll unlock the door, I'll stop throwing papers. But please stay at night?"
And he did. Every evening, he'd make sure to spend some time with you, alleviating your lonliness. In return, he began to feel your presence during the day. You shelved files for him, your hands sometimes brushed his own, he began to even notice the small indents of pillows when you sat down. Despite the paranormal nature of your relationship, he found himself feeling safe, reassured even relaxed. It was nice, knowing someone was around to look out for him, who wanted his company in return.
Gary 'Roach' Sanderson
You couldn't help but admire the quiet chaos brought about by Gary. When you'd found him alone, you had to reveal yourself.
You stumbled your way through an introduction, despite his obvious shock. Once he'd relaxed, you managed to start a conversation. The revelation that you knew BSL brought an immediate smile to his face (and you congratulated yourself internally for impressing him). You hadn't expected to appreciate his company so much but it was nice, having someone finally sit and listen to you ramble. Plus, his own enthused rambling was endearing to you.
But eventually it was down to business. His mischief with your supernatural power? You two were unstoppable. Nobody went unterrorised, he learned how to push target's buttons and you pushed them until you were both in stitches.
You also loved to spend time with him, just around him. And he never complained, happy to feel your presence beside him in a room full of people. Of course, sometimes that was to watch your schemes unfold. But he happily leaned further into your spirit while MacTavish screamed at the cockroach that found its way onto his head.
You figured he'd make a good ghost. You just hadn't expected it to happen so soon. For the first time since your death, you felt sick when you saw his spirit rise from the ashes that should've been your favourite mortal. He looked upset, of course he was, death was never easy to experience. Wordlessly, he stumbled over to you, unstable in his new form. You pulled him closer as he buried his head in your shoulder. He returned the gesture, hugging you tighter as new tried to come to terms with his new reality.
Nikto
It's official then, he's insane. More than everyone else already said. How else could he explain seeing a figure floating above his bed?
"Away. We aren't crazy yet."
You pouted, "But you looked lonely."
His jaw clenched at that, "We are fine. We do not need an imaginary friend."
"I'm not imaginary. Just dead." You explained, "And now I'm haunting you."
Nikto continued to protest, to ignore you, but you wouldn't leave. And your version of haunting was a lot like just hanging out.
Nikto stalked the empty practice range, grumbling after your incessant company caused him to make another imperfect shot.
"Do not distract me." His hand waved you away again, a favourite gesture of his.
"I'm just trying to see how you do it."
"Do you have nobody else who wants to see you?"
That made you pause. Finally, silence. It was unsettling.
You finally spoke up, "What, like friends? Not really..."
He sighed, tone softening a bit, "Then be quiet, or I will find a way to remove you."
"An exorcism? Please, anything but that!"
"Then quiet."
He managed to focus once you'd been threatened into silence. A perfect shot.
"You may speak now."
"Nice shot! Go Nikto!"
That finally got a chuckle out of him. "Thank you." He smiled at you, eyes meeting your own. He'd never admit it, but your company was a balm to him. If you really were just another reflection of his fractured mind, at least you made him feel less alone. Made him feel happy.