never done a hybrid au or anything but I keep thinking about hare!Ghost and rabbit!reader
he's so big, limbs and ears stretched too long, scent eerily similar to something you could almost call familiar, his shape is uncanny, cousin to your own but corded with different muscles. his nose twitches differently, his ears stand too tall, his penchant for open spaces felt quirky at first but now you watch him lay out in an open field and the way he disappears against the ground sends a chill down your spine. he is so much like you and yet every inch of you knows he's different.
but no one else seems to care. they pair you up like alarm bells don't ring each time you stand next to him. they joke about leaving rabbits together and you swallow the need to scream that he's not like you, that it isn't natural, it doesn't work, that when his eyes slink towards you they read as foreign as a predator. it's like staring down a funhouse mirror of your species, some convergent evolution gone wrong, shifted for a harsher environment, your families separated enough that you never should have been faced with someone like him.
you thump your foot at him when he gets too close and your entire body heats in embarrassment. it's an empty threat, you're hardly fit for fighting without the guns and knives that soldiers carry but ghost- ghost studies you like an insect, like he can't quite figure out why you're so soft and round where he isn't. he stares at you in every room his existence corners you into. he tugs at one of your ears when you pass him in the hall, he gropes at the fat of your hips when you stand in line at mess, he grips your tail so hard you have to stop yourself from yelping. so you thump at him, because you're tired of whatever measurements he's taking, whatever comparisons he's drawing between the two of you, silent observer to your fear of him, using it to keep you quiet against the persistent harassment; his nose twitches.
he's faster than you, you already knew that, you shouldn't be surprised when he lunges at you the way he does. you still scramble to get away, launch yourself into movement, some hind-brain instinct propelling you forward, searching for somewhere small and dark to hide yourself. Even though you know he'll catch you, that his big hands will grip you hard and then, well, you don't have to think too hard about what he wants.
you'd seen the way his hard cock strained against his fatigues at every mention of fucking like rabbits.
