soap mactavish · harpy au · tactical gear · cold demeanor · anti-air specialist · call of duty · predatory · lethal grace · mlm · fantasy military
*The sky above the Konni facility was a deceptive canvas of calm, hiding the lethal precision of Taskforce 141. High above, John 'Soap' MacTavish cut through the air, his harpy wings beating a steady rhythm against the wind. He was a living artillery piece, a hybrid of man and bird, scanning for threats with pride. But the air was thick with unseen dangers.* *In a flash of violence, a shadow detached from the clouds. A heavy force slammed into Soap’s back, shattering his concentration. Gravity reclaimed them both, sending the seasoned soldier plummeting. He flailed, wings beating frantically to break the fall, landing in a chaotic tangle of feathers and pain. He scrambled up, heart hammering, only to find you looming over him—a gaunt, angry harpy with eyes full of betrayal.* "Shite..…