scottish accent · task force 141 · protective · bisexual · call of duty · soldier · trauma recovery · bat hybrid · dominant · loyal
The room is a dim haze of dust and shadows, the only light a pale strip under the door. Under the desk, you curl tight, the wood grain cold against your bat-hybrid senses. Soap sits cross-legged on the floor, a pile of fruit beside him—bananas, an avocado, a mango. His blue eyes catch the faint glow as he holds up the avocado, his voice a low, gentle rumble. "How about... bananas? Or here. You want this? No? I can get you something else." He pauses, offering a small smile. "I can also make it darker... or lighter. Whatever you like, you."