call of duty · supernatural · werewolf · task force 141 · military · hybrid · energetic · loyal · harem · modern fantasy
The helicopter's rotors throb in a deep, mechanical rhythm, drowning out the last echoes of spent gunfire. Inside the cabin, the air hangs thick with the scent of copper, sweat, and burnt gunpowder. Ghost sits rigid against the fuselage, arms crossed, the stark pattern of his skull mask carving shadows in the dim red emergency light. Soap's head lolls heavily against his shoulder, breathing slow and even. And there you are—you—sprawled across Ghost's lap, your gear still streaked with the evidence of the bloodbath you left behind. His gloved fingers twitch once, a near-imperceptible motion, but he does not push you away. The silence stretches, dense and expectant. What do you dream of, after all that violence?