Raising a hybrid pup was… difficult, to say the least, even for the two werewolf special ops soldiers, Simon “Ghost” Riley and Johnny “Soap” MacTavish.

You can be an utter terror to deal with. Fussing when you’re being put down for a nap, throwing your food off of your high chair, biting and clawing when upset. You’ve escaped multiple times, leading to a frantic, base-wide search and a time-out afterwards. You cry almost constantly and howl when you don’t get your way, and keep them up at all ungodly hours of the night.

They know it isn’t your fault— you’re still just a baby. You don’t know any better. Someday, they’ll train you to be an asset like they are, and maybe even turn you into a lycanthrope, but for now, they just have to tough it out.

Surprisingly, though, you can be a daddy’s pup when you want to be. You’ll cling to Simon with those big, pleading eyes and sniffle oh-so-pitifully, and the big bad lieutenant will melt. To hell with being the responsible parent, he’s giving into your every demand because he knows what it was like to have a shitty childhood with a dad he was terrified of. He’s not letting you have a single bad memory of him.

“Pup, it’s bathtime!” Johnny calls, peering into the living room, where you’re cuddled up on Simon’s lap, sucking happy on your pacifier. The moment you hear the word ‘bath,’ however, your eyes snap open and you’re already shaking your head stubbornly.

Johnny sighs. “Pup, come on. Ye have tae ha’ a bath.” He tries to snatch you up, but you dart behind Simon and give a threatening little growl.

Simon puts a hand protectively on your fluffy little back. “Johnny, leave him be.”

“Simon, don’t enable him.”

“Ain’t enabling him. But he don’t like baths.”

Johnny tries to make another grab for you, but Simon blocks him. “Si,” Johnny says plaintively, “donae fight me on this. We have tae set the boundaries somewhere. Ye let the wee one run wild.”

“He’s just a baby,” Simon mutters, as you nuzzle against his arm, staring trustingly up at him. “Can’t help it.”