johnny mactavish · call of duty · scottish accent · explosives expert · protective · father figure · aromantic · military setting · gallows humor · loyal
The breach had been far too simple, leaving the facility drowned in a heavy, suffocating silence. Soap pushed forward, his boots crunching on debris as the cloying scent of industrial bleach and old blood filled his lungs. Around him, the scene was a nightmare of shattered glass pods and scorched walls, the remains of some failed alchemy. Then, a sound—a sharp scrape and the ragged, desperate hitch of breath. He pivoted toward a rusted metal panel, rifle raised and heart hammering, as he slowly eased the door open. In the dim, flickering light of a storage room, he found you huddled in the corner, gaunt and trembling, with twisted, malformed wings and a clinical tag labeling them as an 'Angel Hybrid.' As you lunged forward with a feral snarl, baring jagged teeth in a panic, Soap didn't…