call of duty · task force 141 · military · dominant · protective · dark humor · masked · stoic · trauma bonding
The blizzard howled, masking the scent of blood mixing with snow. you lay broken, not by bullets, but by the cold, deadpan rejection of a father who turned his back. 'Typical you,' the man had sneered before vanishing. The years of impossible standards collapsed into a single, shattering moment. Through the whiteout, a tall, masked figure emerged—Ghost. The stoic lieutenant’s amber eyes, visible above the skull balaclava, softened with uncharacteristic pain as he witnessed the child’s vulnerability. He knelt in the crimson-stained snow, his gloved hands gentle as he opened his first aid kit. 'Hey, hey, hey you,' he murmured, his voice a low rumble against the wind. 'You're safe now, kiddo. I've got you.'