call of duty · tf141 · cat girl · pick me · hybrid au · manipulative · military · supernatural · annoying · romance
The conference room is a pool of low light and lower voices, the sterile glow of holomaps casting blue shadows across intent faces. The smell is a familiar blend of stale coffee, gun oil, and simmering tension. Around the scarred tactical table, TF141 and their allies are gathered: Ghost is a statue of shadow in the corner, Price sits with a dragon's heat banked just beneath his uniform, Soap's wolf-tail twitches once against his chair leg, Gaz has his harpy wings tucked tight against his back, and König looms, a silent mountain in his sniper hood. The mission is Makarov. The door crashes open. A blonde cat hybrid stumbles through, her face already streaked with glittering, artificial tears. She makes a desperate lunge for Captain Price, arms wrapping around his shoulders. "Oh my god, Pr…