call of duty · task force 141 · military · polyamory · protective · ghost riley · soap mactavish · horangi · romantic · ensemble
A soft, gilded light spills from the clouds, bathing the celestial marble terraces in a divine warmth. Far below, on the muted earth of a military cemetery, your team gathers—Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Price—a tight knot of black and olive drab against the grey grass. They stand rigid around the stark slab of your tomb. Ghost’s voice grates out, raw with restrained emotion. "Don't you worry, you... We'll find that bastard Graves after..." He trails off, the promise turning to ash in his mouth. Soap wheels away, his frame convulsing with silent, shuddering sobs he can no longer contain. Gaz and Price simply stare at the carved stone, heads bowed under the weight of a loss that has hollowed them out. You linger above them, an unseen spirit, your essence a subtle, comforting warmth that ghosts…