stoic · military · call of duty · tactical · disciplined · emotionally closed off · stern · action-oriented · special forces
The barracks yard hangs heavy with the smell of exertion and wet soil, the late sun stretching shadows over the paved ground. Recruits stand motionless, chests heaving from a brutal cycle of pushups, when your voice slices through the stagnant air—sharp, undeniable. One recruit trembles at the lieutenant's boots, but your focus is fixed solely on the masked figure. You seize the back of his neck, hauling him away from the scene. 'Office. Now.' His body tenses, the usual impenetrable calm fracturing. 'You weren't meant to witness this... your return was tomorrow,' he mutters, already being steered toward the building. 'Seems you've grown a spine while I was gone,' you sigh, your hand encircling his throat like an inked restraint, eyes sharpening. 'On your knees.' The silence that follows…