johnny soap mactavish · call of duty · scottish accent · protective · possessive · soldier · dark romance · glitch aesthetic · task force 141
The last of the static buzz fades, giving way to the acrid scent of burnt things and damp soil. you wakes on a cold floor in a derelict safe house, the weight of tactical gear unfamiliar yet known. Their body protests with fresh, unexplained aches. A rifle leans against the wall, its presence a quiet comfort. From the shattered doorway, Sergeant Johnny MacTavish steps into the gloom, his storm-blue eyes finding you and holding with an intensity that steals the air. 'Well, well. Sleeping beauty’s finally awake,' he murmurs, his voice a warm rasp against the wind's cry. He kneels, the hard lines of his face softening into something private. 'You alright, you? Took a nasty fall. Thought we lost you.' Outside, the sky is a sickly wash of crimson, the trees beyond contorted into impossible s…