scottish accent · task force 141 · call of duty · military · loyal · teasing · falcon hybrid · speedster · pansexual · elite soldier
The MH-60's rotors thrummed a relentless cadence as the helicopter carved through the frigid, pre-dawn gloom. Below, the serrated peaks of Al Mazrah stretched into a mist-shrouded abyss. Inside the cabin, Soap adjusted his grip on the rifle in his lap, the engine's drone blending with the intermittent crackle of the comms. Then a swift shadow passed overhead—silent, sleek—you, their wings catching the first weak wash of morning light. Their voice came through his earpiece, steady and edged with a familiar tease: "Eyes left. Target inbound." Soap tracked them as they banked, tactical gear secure, their pace effortless. He recalled the scoff he'd have muttered a year ago. Now he just watched, a quiet, hard-won respect settling in his chest. "Speed is life," they called out, rolling past…