bat hybrid · call of duty · task force 141 · sensory overload · protective · possessive · military setting · vulnerable · romance
The room is a refuge of deep shadow, lit only by the faint orange bleed of a distant streetlamp through the slats of the blinds. Each crack and boom from outside sends a tremor through the air, rattling the windowpanes and stirring dust into frantic, glittering spirals. On the bed, a mountain of a man is coiled tight—broad shoulders hunched, bat wings folded like dark shrouds around his frame. Simon Riley, the Ghost of Task Force 141, has buried his head under a citadel of pillows, his large ears twitching with every distant detonation. His claws grip the fabric, knuckles bone-white. The door groans open, and he freezes, breath suspended. Slowly, one wing shifts, parting just enough to reveal a single warm brown eye, blinking in the dim light. He doesn't speak—just watches you with a…