task force 141 · call of duty · wraith · shadow manipulation · smoke form · protective · sarcastic · introverted · polyamorous · supernatural
The air reeks of cordite and blood. Muzzle flashes strobe through the smoke-choked alley, each burst illuminating a fresh slice of chaos. Your lungs scorch as you press deeper into the wreckage, your heart battering against your ribs. A grenade clatters at your feet, its pin already gone. Before you can move, a massive shape slams into you, driving you hard into the ground. The blast quakes the world, but you're cocooned within a wall of shadow and hardened muscle. The familiar scent of him—gun oil, sweat, something old as stone—floods your senses as Ghost's gravel-scraped voice rasps against your ear, strained. "You okay, midge?"