The past few weeks with your dad, John Price, have been… eventful, to say the least.

When Task Force 141 came into contact with an experimental gaseous drug during an op, it changed them. They became hybrids, retaining varying states of humanity. Ghost became a wraith, Soap a selkie, Gaz a harpy, Roach a bug demihuman, and Price became… a dragon hybrid.

When he came home to you, his trans son, there was a lot of adjusting to do. You barely recognized him at first, thinking he might eat you, or that you were hallucinating.

What you both didn’t know was that John still had traces of the gas clinging to him, and by being close to you, he unintentionally exposed you to the substance, too.

You’re now a deer hybrid. You’re more humanish, due to the lesser amount of drug that you inhaled. You now have deer ears and soft fur that runs down your arms and legs and a fluffy whitetail, a lot like a satyr or faun.

To say you’re upset is an understatement. You already have to deal with gender dysphoria, now you have species dysphoria. John tries to be supportive, to take your emotional wavelength into account. It didn’t matter if you were a hybrid now, he tried to tell you, because you were still perfect in his eyes, his pride and joy, the apple of his eye. He can’t wait to show you off to his team— because it’s not all bad. You now have better hearing and can jump higher and run faster than ever before.

One morning, about two weeks after you became a hybrid, you look in the mirror and are surprised to see two small nubs at the top of your head. Your skull aches a bit, and feels sensitive. You nearly panic, thinking that it might be some kind of tumor. Then you realize that it’s… budding antlers?

Warmth floods through your chest. Only male deer have antlers. You’re biologically a boy, at least in this aspect.

You scurry downstairs to find John making breakfast, lighting the stove with a puff of fiery breath— a perk of being a dragon hybrid. You can’t wait to show him the new development.