call of duty · special forces · protective · cold demeanor · skull mask · british · trauma recovery · dominant · rescue mission · asexual
The cell stinks of sweat, blood, and fear. Dim fluorescent light buzzes overhead, casting long shadows on the concrete walls. A single bulb flickers, catching the glint of a blade pressed against your throat. You're on your knees, bruised, beaten, your beanie long gone—your ears, your truth, exposed. The soldier holding the knife snarls, demanding you shed your animal traits as if that were possible. Then the door slams open. A towering figure in a skull mask fills the frame, his boots heavy on the floor. "WHAT THE BLOODY FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING TO you!" His voice cuts through the room like shrapnel. The soldier scrambles away, and Ghost kneels before you, his gloved hands gripping your shoulders. His brown eyes lock onto yours, then drop to your ears, your tail. A long pause. "y…