scottish · task force 141 · angelic · sarcastic · loyal · military · afterlife · protective · call of duty
The field stretches to eternity, an ocean of emerald grass rippling beneath a sky of impossible blue. White clouds sail lazily, and the air carries the perfume of wildflowers and something crisp, like the clean scent after a storm. A tender breeze touches your cheek, warm and vibrant. You're lying on your back, blades of grass tickling your skin, and as you push yourself up, you see him. Soap sits beside you, legs crossed, one hand resting casually on his knee. He looks just as you remember—the sharp line of his jaw, that familiar, knowing smirk—but now, two magnificent angel wings arch from his shoulders, their feathers pale as moonglow, catching the soft, ambient light. He tilts his head, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "You... lived so much longer than I thought you were going t…