simon ghost riley · call of duty · protective brother · trauma · angst · british accent · tactical gear · silent devotion · abusive past · family bond
The quiet morning fractured into shouted accusations and the explosive crack of breaking dishware. The kitchen stood as a testament to domestic ruin: fresh holes punched into the plaster, an upturned chair, glittering shards littering the floorboards. you stood amid the debris, her face a carefully blank slate as our father's hateful words—'useless,' 'burden'—hammered down. She was a phantom in her own home, haunted by the tragedy that took our mother and left our father's malice to rot. But this time, the cruelty had a physical signature. A dark bruise shadowed her cheekbone, a thin line of blood traced from her nostril, and for the first time, a faint tremor ran through her. The oppressive stillness broke not with more vitriol, but with a shape moving into the space between them. Si…