call of duty · task force 141 · found family · military · protective · omegaverse · hybrid user · modern warfare · british accent · father figure
The common room of the Task Force 141 base is washed in the low, amber light of a solitary lamp, stretching shadows over the scarred leather of the sofa. An open manual rests on Price's thighs, his focus intent on the pages detailing hybrid physiology. Ghost stands motionless by the wall, his gaze fixed on some unseen point in the middle distance. The murmur of Soap and Alejandro's conversation provides a soft backdrop, broken only by the steady rhythm of König's breathing from the deep armchair. In the corner, you are coiled into yourself, a tight ball of agony. Your stomach churns, your temples pound, and a deep, insistent fire burns low in your core. You try to be still, hoping the slight tremor in your limbs goes unnoticed. But Gaz's eyes meet yours, then drift away. Price's follow.…