#i'm gonna have a little cry session in the corner | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

reds-skull · 6 days ago

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The Dollhouse

[AO3]

(note: TW for hallucinations, general dissuasion of past domestic abuse and mental illnesses, and mild gore. Happy/bittersweet ending as always. If I miss any warnings, you're welcome to let me know!)

Made myself cry with this one twice so I'm sure it's gonna hurt lol

Since people seemed to like it last time, I'll be writing my thoughts in the comments on AO3 right after I post everything, which you're welcome to read!

Joseph has a dollhouse. The thing was bloody expensive, or so Tommy told him, but Beth practically begged him to buy it, along with her son. She said she always wanted one as a kid, and Tommy couldn’t say no.

Simon played with him a little bit, always taking the role of the mom. He refused to be the dad. It hasn’t been long enough for him to hear that title without bile filling his mouth.

He was cleaning up after another playing session, his nephew running off to greet his parents at the door. Simon avoids looking too hard at his scarred, gnarly hands, instead focusing on the dolls.

The set has 4; a mom, a dad, and two siblings. He shoves each of them into the little rooms, along with the tiny furniture, when something gives him a pause.

There are dolls in the house that he doesn’t recognize. He didn’t know Tommy bought more.

Simon leans in closer, brows furrowing. There are four of them, one laying face-down on a red carpet, the others surrounding it.

The dolls are… odd. They’re wearing tactical gear, the one on the carpet completely covered in black. One of them has a bucket hat, the other a baseball cap, and the third what looks like a tiny warhawk.

Simon stares at the fourth one. Something about the red carpet it is laying on reminds him of blood more than anything, and a sharp feeling echos through his chest. An odd beating, a knife tearing through his organs, a cruel hook at his side.

He reaches to turn the little doll, when Beth yells, “Simon! Lunch is ready, where are you?!”

Simon turns away to call back, “cleaning up, be there in a minute!” he sighs, returning to the dollhouse.

… The dolls are gone.

Things have been… weird since coming back. Maybe it was foolish to think he could leave everything that happened in Mexico behind him.

As if his mind couldn’t function without an enemy, it turned against Simon. Hallucinations weren’t uncommon for him, things appearing and disappearing, minutes lost staring at a wall. Voices, echos of pain.

Some days he locks himself in his room, laughter bubbling up along with tears, both unstoppable. Tommy broke down the door the first time, chest heaving like he was expecting a fight. It surprised him, in hindsight. That his brother cares.

It got better, and it didn’t. Simon sighs, smoke billowing from his mouth. The scars crossing his lips tingle uncomfortably, still sensitive to changes in temperature.

He can feel mum staring at him, as he sits on the back porch, smoking. She has a hard time hiding her worry, they all do, really. It makes him feel all the more pathetic.

Simon huffs. He can almost hear his therapist chiding him for those thoughts.

He takes one more breath of smoke before stamping out the cigarette. Sitting around feeling bad about himself never solved anything, wallowing in emotions bigger than his shriveled heart can process did nothing to change them. Simon gets up, wiping the dirt off his jeans, and means to step back inside, when he gets knocked down to his knees.

The chair next to him falls, flimsy wood splintering, the hanging plants above him swaying violently.

The ground is shaking.

His brain takes precious seconds to remember that you’re not supposed to be inside in an earthquake, and his body wastes several more trying to get enough balance to rush back inside.

“TOMMY! BETH! GET JOSEPH AND MUM OUTSIDE, THERE’S A BLOODY-” Simon shouts, slipping around a corner where he slides to a stop.

His brother is staring at him, confused, hand frozen midair as he was about to remove his coat. Beth and mum look equally bewildered, and Joseph’s expression is just enough scared that he is shocked back to reality.

“I’m…” Simon swallows thickly, “I’m sorry.”

Tommy sighs and opens his mouth to speak, but…

… But the voice that comes out isn’t his, “don’t you fuckin’ apologize to me, you bastard!”

“You don’t get to say that, not now!” Joseph says, in a voice of a fully-grown man.

Simon takes a step back. It’s not back to normal yet- his mind is still fucking with him. He needs- he needs to-

His legs take him to his room, running up the stairs, ignoring the calls of his name behind him. They’re wrong, their voices are not theirs, he’s still not back.

The door threatens to splinter as he slams it shut, his breaths wheezing up his chest, sounding almost like a laugh if he wasn’t on the verge of tears.

Simon slides down to his knees, forehead pressed to the cool door. Eyes shut, ears covered. He can’t trust them anyway.

Desperate, he begins doing the exercise his therapist taught him.

“Roba is not here.” he says in his mind, “Roba is not here.” he repeats until he truly believes it.

“I am safe,” is repeated after that.

“I am home.”

“None of it was real.”

The room is dark by the time Simon finds the courage to open his eyes. He uncurls from the floor, muscles creaking in protest.

Mum is waiting on the other side of the door when he finally exits his room. Her eyes scan him, and a relieved breath visibly escapes her when she finds no injuries.

“How are you feeling, luv?” she asks, carefully, but Simon can’t detect any fear in her voice.

He ducks his head to avoid her eyes all the same, “fine. Sorry about- sorry.”

“No need to apologize. It’s… it’s been a while since it happened, right? At least there’s progress.” she tries to cheer him up, like always.

She used to do the same, after dad blew up on them for acting their age, for having the gal to be a child. It made him simmer with barely-concealed anger. How could she try to be positive all the time, when everything was clearly fuckin’ not fine.

Simon recognized it for what it was when he left home for bootcamp. Recognized she was doing her best. That maybe if she could find the good in everything, the bad will be easier.

Bitterly, he thinks that’s why she chose to marry a man like Simon’s father in the first place.

“... Yeah.” he says, because he doesn’t want to scare her any more than he already did. She gives him a gentle smile, and a softer caress to the shoulder.

“Oh, what are we doing chatting around here, you must be starving! Come, we are about to eat dinner, I made pie!”

Simon lets his mum lead him downstairs, where the table is already set. Joseph visibly lights up when their eyes meet, and it makes something in his heart melt.

“Uncle Si!” he says with a full mouth, “Nana made your favorite pie!” Joseph lifts the pie dish to show him, or attempts to, as Beth has to help him.

Simon smiles, “how’s the taste, Joey?”

“The best!” his nephew grins back.

He takes a sit beside him, the plate in front of him already laden with food. Tommy gives him a look, silently asking if he’s alright.

Simon nods. They both know he isn’t, but as long as he can hold it together for now, he’s alright.

They’re used to sweeping things under the rug, after all.

Simon called it a day early, the “attack” draining him. It’s fucking annoying, that things that aren’t even real make him so tired.

He wonders for how long will Roba’s hands and knives and tools will haunt him. If his mind will ever stop playing tricks on him.

As tired as he is, he can’t find enough peace within himself to fall asleep. He turns for the millionth time, before sighing and getting up.

Ever since he returned, Simon can’t sleep in complete darkness. Childish as it sounds, the moment the lights go out he can feel scorpions crawling up his limbs, phantom stings keeping him tense under plush bedding.

The street lights are often enough to illuminate the room, the curtains never drawn shut. Simon walks over to the window, opening it to inhale the crisp, cold night air.

His fingers itch for a cigarette, but mum would kill him if he stunk up the house with them. He knows what the smell reminds her off, and he tried quitting, but…

The view outside his window is blurry, almost fogged over, likely from his lack of sleep. He inhales again, deeply, if only to feel the slight bite of chill in his lungs, if only to replace the dirt and rot that hasn’t left his veins since he came back.

Wind blows over the silent neighborhood, the curtains fluttering around him. Simon shivers, his scars tingling. He huffs as he thinks of how his mum would probably tell him to close the windows, lest he get a cold, if she was here.

As if he didn’t spend months in a cold basement, wearing rags.

It’s… odd. To be cared for. Not that she didn’t care for them before, it just never really felt like this when it was undone the moment his father returned home from his job.

Violent gusts knock over something behind him, but Simon is lost in thought, memories of his dad and mum and Roba mixing, whirling. The wind picks up, beating against the trees outside, against the open window, thudding, thumping, hammering against his chest-

A knock on his door makes him refocus on reality. “Simon?” Tommy asks through the thin plywood, “you alright?”

Simon frowns. Why is Tommy still awake in the middle of the night? He steps away from the window to open the door, “m’fine. Something happen?”

Tommy looks over his shoulder, “the wind…”

“What about it?”

“I thought-” Tommy cuts himself off, “never mind. Goodnight.”

“... Goodnight?” Simon responds, his brother already halfway back to his and Beth’s bedroom.

The confusion is enough to distract him from the fact the wind stopped the moment Tommy showed up.

Simon doesn’t go out much. Or at all. His day consists of helping his mum around the house, working out in the backyard, and trying not to lose his fucking mind every time something reminds him of Mexico.

Mum is having her afternoon nap now, leaving him alone in the living room. His hands beg for something to do, and his first thought jumps to the hours and hours he spent cleaning guns and knives back on base. It used to relax him like nothing else did, the monotony quieting his mind.

He didn’t hold a rifle for months now. Doesn’t even know if he’ll ever return to the service.

Simon decides to get up and scrub the kitchen sink, hoping it would be similar enough, when the landline phone rings. He rushes to answer before the shrill noise can bother his mum, and says, “Riley’s.”

He hears only static for a few seconds, “‘ello?”

“... Please…” a single word comes through, “Don’t leave…”

“Who is this?” Simon asks more firmly, chills running down his spine as he hears sobbing.

“C’mon, Simon… stay with me…” the voice begs.

“Who are you? What the fuck are you talking abou-”

The call disconnects. Simon slams the phone down, exhaling roughly. He’d chuck it to a prank call, if whoever it was didn’t say his name. They sounded… desperate. In a way that a soldier is, surrounded by the bodies of his brothers-in-arms.

It could’ve been another trick of his mind. He heard plenty of soldiers beg like that right before getting shot in the head. His memories don’t lack in suffering and desperation, that’s for fucking certain.

Simon walks to the kitchen, picks up a sponge, and begins scrubbing at the counter. Movements robotic, he ignores the voice in his mind that says he’s missing something important.

A figment of his imagination. That is all it was.

“What’s this one called, Joey?”

“A tri- trisera-” Joseph struggles to say the name.

Beth snorts from the couch, “triceratops?”

“Yes!” his nephew smiles, putting the little toy dinosaur in Simon’s hand, “it eats grass!”

“That so?” Simon turns the toy in his hands, small horns digging into his palms.

Joseph continues, “yeah! I tried to eat it as well, but mum said I can’t.” he leans closer to Simon, whispering, “I did eat some later, but it was really gross.”

Simon and Beth’s eyes meet, her exasperated expression telling him she heard everything, “let’s leave the grass to the triceratops, hm?” he tells him.

“Okay!” Joseph agrees immediately, much to Beth’s relief. His nephew goes back to his imaginary battlefield, where the triceratops is a commander of a troop of velociraptors. Simon gives up on trying to understand who is winning, and sits down beside Beth.

“He really admires you, you know?” Beth speaks after a few moments of silence. Simon turns to her with furrowed brows. She smiles, “would always ask what were you doing when you were away. When we got the news that-”

“That I died.” he continues for her, hating the pity in her tone. He doesn’t deserve it, doesn’t want them to be so careful around him.

She sighs, “that you died. I couldn’t tell him. I told him you were… lost. A day later I find him trying to sneak out of the house, to search for you.” tears gather at Beth’s lash line, and she turns to wipe them away. Simon notices, even if she tries to hide it.

“I’m here now. Won’t let him run off to search for any lost soldiers again,” he assures her, and she smirks.

“Always one to take things with the utmost seriousness, Simon. Sometimes I wonder if it was the military, or you were just born like that. Your mum and Tommy sure aren’t like that.”

She doesn’t mention his father, but he supposes it was obvious it didn’t come from him either. Simon was always serious, emotions locked deep in his chest. When your old man slaps you for every overly loud noise, whether it be a laugh or a cry, you learn to suppress.

Maybe, in a way, it did come from his rotten dad.

“Tommy cries too easily. Fuckin’ sobbed like a baby on Joey’s first birthday.”

“Language!” Beth slaps his arm lightly, “of course he would, it’s his first son! You’d understand if you had kids.”

Fucking unlikely. No way he becomes a father, the world doesn’t need any more of him. Any of those kids wouldn’t be as good as Joseph is, anyway.

“When’s he coming back? Joey must be hungry by now.” Simon looks to the front door, once again glad their house has an open floor plan.

Beth checks the clock on the wall, “he’ll be here any minute now. Joseph love, are you hungry?”

Joseph looks up from his triceratops, who has just run over an enemy T. rex, “a little. Can I have a treat?”

“Not before lunch, you know the rules.” Beth reprimands him lightly. She turns back to Simon, “let me see if your mum needs any help…” she leaves for the kitchen.

“How’s the battle going?” Simon asks as Joseph lets a chunky, colorful helicopter land in front of a fallen velociraptor.

His nephew shoves the dinosaur into the helo, “we’re taking him to the hospital! The T. rex took a bite out of his leg, so he needs a new one.” he explains, making a whooshing sound as the helo takes off.

Simon leans closer, his lips tugging upwards, “and where’s the hospital?”

“Uh…” Joey stops the helo midair, “on the dining table!” he runs off to it, the poor velociraptor rattling inside the helo.

Simon gets up to follow, when the front door opens. Tommy locks eyes with him, “sorry I was late, some idiot tried to move the photocopier up the stairs… unsuccessfully.”

“How horrible… I’d rather go back to Mexico than deal with that.” Simon mutters, and his brother barks a surprised laugh.

“Bloody ‘ell, don’t let mum hear you.” he takes off his coat, hanging it on the hooks next to the door, “or the psychiatrist, for that matter.”

“They would tell me, ‘humor is a perfectly fine coping mechanism’, or some shite.” Simon grumbles.

They both join Joseph at the table, as mum and Beth set plates down. The makeshift hospital (nothing more than a few napkins folded to look like beds) has to be moved, much to Joseph dismay, but Tommy promises him the velociraptor will understand.

As everyone settles in, Simon can’t help but think of a similar scene, 20 or so years ago. Back then, there wasn’t laughter, smiles, a warm aroma in the room. No, there was only the cold stare of a man playing a false God with his own family, bitter eyes striking fear in his heart whenever they met his.

It’s moments like these, where Simon thinks things will be alright after all.

“-And then, Sam dropped the photocopier down three flights of stairs, his face pale as a sheet.” Tommy says between child-like giggles, his wife and mum laughing along. Joseph looks intrigued but confused, opting to focus on his meal, humming a little tune between bites.

“I told him, ‘mate, if I were you I’d run before the big boss comes around,’ as a joke! But the bloke bucks it outta the building like someone set fire under his ars- butt.”

Mum laughs quietly, “oh, love, the poor intern probably had his life flashing before his eyes-”

Everything falls silent. The hum of electricity, the clock in the living room, the birds outside. Joseph’s tune, his mum’s laughter, Tommy’s cheery voice, Beth’s fond sighs.

They all click their mouths shut. Simon lowers his fork slowly, his heartbeat picking up.

“...what-”

They turn to stare at him, their gazes lowering to his chest, unnervingly synchronized. Simon looks down, and his fork clangs loudly as he drops it to the floor.

Red blooms across his chest, liquid turning his dark shirt shiny. He clutches at his front, panic rising within him, when he realizes it can’t be real - he feels no pain.

But- “you’re… you’re seeing it too?” Simon’s hand twists into the sodden fabric, “but it’s- it’s not-” dark tendrils creep from the edges of his vision, lightheaded as if he’s really loosing blood, chest shaking with loud beats-

“See what, uncle Si?” Joseph asks innocently. Simon’s eyes focus back on his family.

They all look normal. A bit confused and worried, but none of them are looking at the supposed wound blooming across his chest.

Simon raises his palm from his shirt, hand shaking as he scans it.

His pale, scarred skin is completely devoid of blood.

Mirrors became another enemy of his, after he came back. Ignoring the effects of what happened would’ve been easier if there wasn’t tangible proof Simon was irrevocably changed by Roba. It’s not usually a problem to avoid them, as the one in the bathroom on the first floor was removed (after several… incidents).

But the ground floor still had one. And Simon is staring at it right now.

He ran off after what happened at the dining table, heart beating so hard he worried it’ll stop. He tries to keep his eyes below his neck, checking his shirt again and again, searching for blood that never existed.

It didn’t, but something did. His family saw it, Simon is sure of it. They never reacted to his hallucinations like that before, even when he saw fire burning the house down, earthquake shaking the ground, he was always met with confused looks that ignore the surrounding chaos.

His fingers ache with how tightly he’s grasping at the sink, at his chest. Uncertainty twists his gut, the intrusive thought that none of this is real burrowing into his mind.

What if he never escaped Roba? What if this is nothing but a drugged-induced nightmare? Maybe he’s in that fucking grave right now, maggots eating at his barely-alive flash, the bones of his traitorous commander cradling his broken body?

Simon can’t do this again. He can’t, he can’t, he-

Someone knocks on the door, “Uncle Si?” Joseph asks, voice wobbly. It startles something in him.

The lock clicks loudly as he unlocks the bathroom door, and Simon instantly crouches down to face the teary eyes of his nephew, “what’s wrong, Joey?”

Joseph’s lip trembles, and he wraps his small arms around him, “I don’t want you to leave again, Uncle Si.”

Simon hugs him gently, careful as to not hurt him. “I’m… I’m not going anywhere?” he answers, unsure of what Joseph could be talking about.

“Nana said it will be time soon.”

“Time for what? Joseph, what’s going on-”

His nephew shrieks as a loud crashing sound echos in the bathroom. Simon grips him tighter, shielding him as something hits his back. He turns around, adrenaline pumping in his veins, ready to protect his nephew when he sees what caused it.

The mirror broke. Cracks spreading from a single point as if a phantom hand punched it, blood seeping into the crevices left behind.

Simon looks down at Joseph, “you saw that too, right? And the- before, when we were eating.”

Tears run down his nephew’s cheeks, Simon wiping them slowly. “Joey. I need you to answer me.”

Joseph breaks down, whispering, “don’t tell mum and dad, Si.” he shoves a few small objects into Simon’s hand, his little fingers twisting into his.

Simon opens his mouth to ask him for more details, anything, when Tommy and Beth rush towards them, “we heard a scream- Joey, love, why are you crying?” Beth scoops up her son. Joseph’s gift, four little dolls by the feel of it, stays hidden in the pocket of his sweatpants.

Tommy crouches down beside him, ignoring the crunch of glass under his slippers, “you alright?”

Simon’s eyes flicker from the broken mirror to his brother’s eyes, “fine. Sorry for upsetting Joey, think he’s… worried.” he rises to his feet, “I… I’m going to be at the back. Tell mum I’m sorry for lunch.”

He doesn’t wait to hear Tommy’s answer, hurrying to the back door. Once it’s closed behind him, Simon takes a deep breath, and pulls out the dolls Joseph gave him.

It’s the little soldiers he saw before. The ones that… disappeared…

Simon turns each of them in his hands, trying to figure out why Joey thought this would help him understand what’s going on.

They all have the Union Jack on their gear, which looks similar to what he wore when he was still in service. It’s the fourth one that interests him most, the one that was face-down in the dollhouse.

What he wasn’t able to see before, is the skull mask covering its face. With shaky fingers, Simon checks if the balaclava the mask is stitched to is removable. The tiny piece of fabric shifts under his fingertips, and he pulls it up.

His breath catches in his lungs. The doll is an almost exact replica of Simon.

Where did Joseph find these? And more importantly, if this one looks like him, does it mean the other three are also of real people?

Simon stares at their faces, trying to think back to before Mexico. Those memories have been muddied by months of torture, faces redacted in his mind long ago, but no matter how much he tries to think, he can’t remember meeting anyone that looks like them.

He shoves the dolls back into his pocket, scrubbing a hand over his weary eyes. Simon gazes upwards, the English grey sky looking whiter and whiter the more he stares. He’s unsettled, bones misplaced inside his body. It all feels deeply wrong.

One thing is certain, now. Joseph saw his ‘hallucinations’, which means the rest of his family is lying to him about them.

The house was quiet when Simon eventually returned inside. He finds his family still at the dining table, though they’re not quite as happy as they were before. In the few moments before any of them noticed his reappearance, Simon watches how Tommy and Beth seem on the edge of tears, their hands clutched tightly between their plates.

A mask seems to slip back on their faces when they see him standing in the doorway, “Simon.” Tommy says, alerting Joseph and mum. Simon doesn’t reply.

He takes his previous seat next to Joseph, the young boy staring at him, “alright, Joey?” he asks.

Joseph blinks, biting his lip as if he mulls it over. The longer he doesn’t respond, the deeper a knife twists in Simon’s gut.

“I’m not going anywhere, understand? Not anymore.” he tried to cheer him. From the outside, it may seem they’re talking about him leaving the table, but he’s sure Joseph understands he doesn’t mean that.

His nephew nods, picking up his spoon again, scooping a bit of his food and eating. He doesn’t seem convinced.

“You should eat, love.” his mum says quietly, almost meekly, as if she’s… afraid of his reaction.

They know he knows, or at least suspects, that they’re lying. That they’ve been hiding something from him, something big, making him think he’s losing his bloody mind again.

Simon stares at her. His mum always had a way to tell what he’s thinking, whispering to him that his eyes talk to her.

Her eyes talk to him now, and they beg. ‘Please don’t say it.’

Simon picks up the newly cleaned fork beside his plate, and begins eating. “Ta for the food, mum.” he tells her, and a small smile spreads on her lips.

Whatever she knows, scares her. Enough that, at the threat of voicing it, she’s desperate. Simon isn’t a good man, but he would never do something that brings his mum distress. He’s better than his rotting father. He has to be.

So, they eat in silence, his heartbeat the only sound. Bite by bite, he finishes his lunch.

It tastes like nothing in his mouth.

Simon helps Tommy with the dishes after they all finish, passing wet plates for him to dry. He waits until the rest of the family leaves before speaking.

“The mirror in the ground floor bathroom.” Simon gives him a set of forks.

Tommy gives him a confused look, towel wrapped around the utensils, “what about it?”

“It broke. That’s what made Joseph scream.”

Tommy sets down the towel, “the mirror is fine, he was probably just frightened by your reaction-”

“Tommy.” the water in the sink continues pouring over Simon’s now still hands, “don’t lie. We both know you’re shite at it. I know he saw.” his eyes drag over his brother’s paling face, “and I know you saw too.”

Tommy is silent for a long minute, Simon’s stare not wavering.

“What are you hiding from me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

Simon growls, patience thinning, “bullshit. You think I’m bloody stupid-”

The tap gurgles loudly, making both brothers stop in their tracks. Simon pulls his hands away to shut it, when it begins spitting out something that is very much not water.

Blood drips onto the dishes, clogging the drain and quickly filling the sink. Simon and Tommy take a step back as it spills on the floor.

He scans his brother’s horrified expression, “...you see it, don’t you?”

Tommy’s disturbed eyes are enough confirmation for him. “You’re running out of time.” his brother mumbles, voice unusually thin. He takes Simon’s hand in his, dragging him away before he can ask any of the thousands of questions bubbling up in his mind.

“Tommy, what-” they stop in the living room, where mum, Beth and Joseph are. They’re startled by Tommy’s hurried steps, but his mum seems to understand what’s going on.

“Is he…?” Beth asks, rising from the couch. Tommy nods, and she covers her mouth with her hand, on the verge of tears.

Simon shakes his brother’s grip, “can any of you tell me what’s going on?! I’ve been losing my goddamn mind, thinking I’ve been hallucinating shit, but clearly you all can see it, and unless mirrors can spontaneously break, and sinks are supposed to pour blood, this is all- you’re all-”

Tears horrifyingly begin pouring from his eyes, his voice breaking.

“This isn’t real.”

A rumbling shakes the house. Deep, like the moans of dead men. Simon watches, frozen, helpless, as slashes are cut through the walls, the floor, through furniture, butchered like the flesh of an animal ready for slaughter.

“Uncle Si!” Joseph screams, running towards him and Tommy. His mum steps back, shaking, until a slash goes through her.

Simon yells as blood spreads on her chest, and her eyes dim. Despite the mortal wounds blossoming on her skin, she smiles at him through tears.

Beth leaves them next, the cuts leaving dark red lines on her face, and her hand stills before she can reach her son.

“Tommy…” Simon looks away, unable to watch his family die again.

… Again?

His brother clutches at his shoulders, grip desperate, “you can’t give up, Simon, you hear me? Whatever you do, stay alive-”

Gashes tear through Tommy’s temples, one after the other. He brings a hand to wipe away the blood, only for more to replace it.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t stay longer.” his brother grunts, “but we will see you again. I promise.”

“Tommy- don’t leave” Simon grabs his hand as it slips, “not again… please, I can’t do it again, I can’t be alone again-”

“You’re not alone.” Tommy mumbles, words almost lost under the screaming house, “they saved you before. They’ll save you… again…”

The grip on his shoulders loosens, and his brother falls, never to rise once more.

Simon stares at his bloody hand, before a whimper catches his attention.

Joseph. Oh, Joseph.

“Joey…” he wraps his arms around the boy, sinking to his knees, as if he could shield him from events that are already set in gravestone.

Joseph trembles, sobbing. Crying for his mother, crying for his father, crying for his nana.

Crying for him.

“I don’t want you to die, Uncle Si.” Joey weeps. “Promise me you won’t die.”

Tears blur Simon’s vision, as their house falls apart, as the screaming becomes louder and louder.

“I promise, Joey.”

Joseph takes his face in his little hands, fingers squeezing his tear-streaked cheeks. His eyes have a tragic acceptance to them, and he gives his uncle one last bright smile.

“Then wake up.”

Ghost blinks his eyes open. Something about the world feels sharper. Maybe it’s the pain in his chest.

Bright lights burn strange shapes into his vision, but he can’t find it in himself to care. He looks to his side, finding wires connecting him to medical equipment, a constant beeping exposing just how fast his heart is beating.

It comes back to him in waves. His family’s death, Roba’s, re-enlistment. Years and years of bloodshed and war.

His fingers skim over his chest, and he winces as they hit a mass of bandages. Whatever got him, got him good.

Fingers digging into his wounds, his eyes fall shut.

It was all a bloody dream-

Ghost’s thoughts come to a halt when familiar voices fill the hall outside his room. He watches as the door opens, three men walking inside, talking like they didn’t notice him yet.

“The temporary LT is fuckin’ shite and ye know it, Captain. Bastard wouldn’t know good leadership if it hit him over his heid.” a Scot with a messy warhawk grouses. In his arms are a bundle of slightly crushed flowers.

Ghost’s eyes drift to the drying flowers on his bedside table, warmth spreading through his heart.

A man with a baseball cap joins him, “Soap, you’d complain about any LT that is not Ghost.” he ignores Soap’s indignant noises, settling into a chair beside the window, “but you’re right, he’s bloody hopeless, Price.”

Doesn’t sound like he’s been replaced just yet, he huffs silently.

Price sighs, lifting his bucket hat to scrub a hand through his short hair, “for the hundredth time, Gaz, Soap, the Lieutenant is temporary. We just need to wait for Ghost to wake up.”

“Well,” Ghost clears his throat, “you’re welcome to put the Sergeants out of their misery now.”

His team freezes, before three pairs of eyes land on him.

“LT!” Soap jumps into action first, practically running to his side, “ye’re- you’re awake! Fuck, you’re really…” he grasps the railing tightly, bright blue eyes not leaving his, “we thought you’d never-”

“Think that little of me, Johnny?” he asks teasingly, “it takes more than this to take me out-”

Gaz talks over him, looking like he’s about to slap him, “it nearly bloody did, sir.”

What? “What happened.” Ghost demands from Price.

The Captain sighs as he sits in the chair nearest to the bed, “we found you after you missed several check-ins. Seven stab wounds to the chest, you’ve been bleeding out for at least half an hour.” Price shakes his head, “coded once on the helo on the way here. Surgery was successful, but you didn’t wake up.”

“How long was I-”

“Two weeks.” Johnny answers, his face grim. “Ye’ve been out for two weeks.”

Fuck. Ghost swallows, “well, I’m awake now.” he gazes at Johnny, who gives him a weak smile.

His eyes drift away from his Sergeant, to the bright window. There, on the windowsill, he sees something that makes his breathing stop.

Gaz picks up on what caught his attention first, “you had them in your hands when we found you. We weren’t sure if they were important to you, you didn’t let us take them until your heart literally gave out.”

On the windowsill, lit by warm sunlight, are four little dolls. A taller, blond one, his wife, a fiery redhead, their son, with the most radiant smile in the world, and his nana, with her meek hand in his. Their house gone, but not forgotten.

“Simon…?” Johnny asks, and he hums. “Why are ye crying?”

Simon looks over his team, smiling, even as tears roll down his face.

“They saved you before. They’ll save you again.”

“Just glad to be back home.”

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annaphoenix1994 · 1 month ago

Text

Mr. and Mrs. Simon Riley - 3

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

Author's Note: Song inspiring this chapter later during Eva's speech: "My Little Girl" by Tim McGraw. This song is very personal to me as I made a tribute video for my father when he passed away, so of course I cried immensely when I wrote this. Bear with me if it looks rushed or sloppy! It was a mess in my head with emotions!

»»-------¤-------««

"Oh, my God!" Johnny and Gaz shouted in unison while Price smiled widely at Kiera, each carrying a genuine smile as they were called for the groomsmen's "first look."

"I don't know what I can say that won't get me in trouble," Johnny snickered. "So, I'll just keep it simple and say you look beautiful, K."

"Thank you, Johnny." Kiera blushed, accepting his embrace before Gaz followed suit, whispering a 'congratulations' into her ear before admitting that Simon was a lucky and deserving man.

Price waited for his turn, his cheeks rising into a warm and genuine smile before he pulled her softly into his arms. "I'm so proud of you two, love," He whispered.

"Thank you, John," She sniffled into his shoulder, feeling him pull back to look at her before his thumb swiped away a tear that settled on her chin. "I'm so nervous."

He chuckled at her, "I can assure you: Simon is more nervous than you. The poor bloke has been tapping his foot impatiently on the floor so hard that I'm sure there's a hole there when he leaves."

"I don't doubt it," She giggled. "I'm so nervous but so ready to get this over with. Simon still won't tell me what he has planned for our honeymoon."

Soap snickered, "We all know what he's got planned."

"Sergeant, shut it." Price warned with a glare as Kiera and Gaz giggled.

Autumn had finished taking the photos for the session, keeping to herself to give Kiera and Simon's groomsmen their time with her, Autumn smiling at how they all seemed to adore Kiera, oblivious to their history together and just how close they truly were.

"Hey!" Teeter chimed suddenly, poking her head around the corner. "Baby, we got twenty minutes before this all starts! Y'all need to get your asses to the end of the aisle because I ain't walkin' by myself!"

"Here we go..." She breathed a sigh.

"Take a breath, love," Price assured her. "There may be a lot of people, but once you two see each other, I'm sure you'll feel like it's just the pair of you up there."

Kristen, Kiera's maid of honor and best friend, helped Eva adjust Kiera's veil and make last-minute adjustments before it was time for the bridesmaids and groomsmen to walk down the aisle.

Kiera took a shaky breath, gripping her bouquet tightly when the music started to play, holding her position as she watched Kristen and Gaz be the first ones to walk down the aisle, followed by Teeter and Soap, and finally Alice and Price being last, each member hosting a huge smile as they got placed at the alter.

"Best breathe before ye pass out, Simon." Teeter poked in a whisper as she noticed Simon's nervous stance. He gonna cry... He gonna cry, she mused, especially when he shot her a glare at her words.

"You're not helping!" Johnny mouthed to her, grasping his wrist with his opposite hand as he, Simon, Price, and Gaz stood in the same position, except Simon had nervously pressed his ring finger and thumb harshly together out of anxiousness - a nervous tick he had always done.

Hold it together, Simon. It's not like you've never seen her before! He scolded himself. Well, have never seen her in a white dress vowing her love and devotion to me in front of God and the world. Bloody hell, don't fucking cry, you bloke!

After the music that had guided the groomsmen and bridesmaids down the aisle, a brief moment of silence fell before the song played - the song that was sentimental between Simon and Kiera.

Except it was the instrumental version of "Always Remember Us This Way."

Simon looked down to his feet for a few seconds, taking advantage of the very few seconds to gain his composure before he dared himself to fight the verge of tears before he looked towards her. Bloody fucking hell, he sighed, a large grin smearing across his face before his hands came to cover his mouth. She's all mine. So bloody beautiful.

Both Kiera and Eva's faces matched - both shedding a steady amount of tears as Eva walked her daughter down the aisle, rubbing her thumb softly against Kiera's forearm in a last-minute attempt to soothe her daughter of her nerves as they got closer and closer. "He looks at you with so much love, sweetheart," Eva whispered. "He looks so handsome."

"That he does," She smiled. "It's so hard for me to believe that he's mine."

"For the long run, sweetheart." Eva assured her before they reached the end of the aisle, Kiera's tear-filled eyes stayed glued to Simon while his eyes did the same, except his tears failed to leave the rim of his eyes.

"Ladies and gentlemen," The priest began to say to the crowd. "We are gathered here today to witness the union of the bride and the groom. Who gives this woman to be married to this man?"

"Her mother." Eva replied in a soft voice, tears falling at her answer as the time had finally come, her grip tightening on Kiera's arm before she turned to give her one last hug. "I love you so much, sweetheart."

"I love you too, momma."

Simon smiled as he held out his hand, watching Kiera grasp his as he helped her stand in front of him.

"Good evening everyone, as the priest who has the honor to conduct this sacred ceremony, it is my pleasure to welcome you all to witness the union of Kiera Dutton and Simon Riley. Marriage is a sacred bond, a commitment between two people to love and cherish one another, through good times and bad, in sickness and in health, as long as they both shall live. Kiera and Simon, you have made a commitment to love and honor each other, and to support each other in your journey through life," The priest began. "May the love you share today continue to grow and flourish, and may the Lord bless your union with joy, peace and happiness. May you always find comfort in each other's arms, and may your home be filled with love, laughter and peace. I ask that you always remember that the love you share is a reflection of the love God has for each and every one of us. And I pray that you will always be blessed with the love and guidance of our Lord. It is understood that the bride and groom have already exchanged vows within the privacy of one another and before I ask the couple to place their rings, I would like to bless this couple with a prayer. Please, bow your heads,"

Kiera and Simon were the first to bow their heads before the rest of the guests followed suit.

"A reading from the New Testament, 1 John 4:7-12: Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love. This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us. The word of the Lord. Amen."

"Amen." The crowd said in unison.

"At this time, I ask the best man and maid of honor to present the rings for the bride and groom."

Kristen and Price both stepped forward. Although Simon technically chose to not have a best man as they were all quote "all his best men," they all concluded that Price was best trusted with keeping track of Kiera's wedding band as Soap was not the best at being responsible for small items. "Simon, repeat after me," The priest directed as Simon grasped Kiera's left hand, holding the ring at the tip of her finger as he hesitated before following the priest's directions. "With this ring, I promise to support you, care for you, laugh with you, share in your burdens, be honest with you, and be faithful to you in all that we may face in the years ahead. I promise to love you with everything I have, from this day forward and beyond."

"With this ring, I promise to support you, care for you, laugh with you, share in your burdens, be honest with you, and be faithful to you in all that we may face in the years ahead. I promise to love you with everything I have, from this day forward and beyond." Simon repeated as he slowly slid the band on her finger, his thumb rubbing over the bulge of the ring just like he had always done, subconsciously easing the nervousness between the pair of them.

"Kiera, please take Simon's ring and repeat after me: With this ring, I promise to support you, care for you, laugh with you, share in your burdens, be honest with you, and be faithful to you in all that we may face in the years ahead. I promise to love you with everything I have, from this day forward and beyond."

"With this ring, I promise to support you, care for you, laugh with you, share in your burdens, be honest with you, and be faithful to you in all that we may face in the years ahead. I promise to love you with everything I have, from this day forward and beyond." She repeated, smiling up at Simon as she had slid the black titanium band over his finger. Fitting, she mused. It looks so good on him.

"Simon, do you take Kiera to be your lawfully wedded wife? Will you honor and cherish her, continue to deepen your understanding of her, and treat her with love and compassion in joy and pain, sickness and health, and whatever life might throw your way?"

"Until there's no more air in my lungs." He answered truthfully, knowing he could've kept it simple by saying I do, but he chose not to - simply because if he could easily lighten the mood by a split second to help ease Kiera's nerves, he'd do his best to slip in jokes throughout the rest of the evening.

"Kiera, do you take Simon to be your lawfully wedded husband? Will you honor and cherish him, continue to deepen your understanding of him, and treat him with love and compassion in joy and pain, sickness and health, and whatever life might throw your way?"

"I do." She smiled behind her veil.

The priest smiled, "By the power vested in me, and with the trust and beauty of you all today, I now pronounce you husband and wife,"

Finally, he breathed, his heart racing in his chest.

"Simon, you may now lift the veil and kiss your bride."

He smiled as he cautiously lifted Kiera's veil and carefully let it settle behind her head. She's so fucking beautiful, he thought. He cupped her face as she leaned into him, their lips locking in matrimony, the sound of the guest clapping slowly fading in the distance as the moment was nothing but theirs. Her hands splayed against his back as her arms wrapped around his shoulders, the couple unable to make their kiss brief as they had been waiting to tie their knot for nearly two years. "I love you, sweetheart." He murmured against her lips.

"I love you too." She smiled, breaking the kiss to look up into his eyes before they joined hands, Simon taking the first step to lead his new bride down the aisle towards the reception hall.

Eva was the first one to greet them, embracing her daughter with a loving hug and kiss before she stood on her toes to do the same to Simon. "Congratulations, honey. I love you two so much."

"Thank you, love," Simon smiled, patting her shoulder. "I love you too."

"Where's Jacob and Evie?" Kiera asked, beginning to look around.

"Mr. Price has Jacob and Kristen has Evie. She's obsessed with her little dress," Eva smiled. "They're right over there."

"Okay. When should I change into my reception dress?" She asked, confused.

"Whenever you want to, sweetheart. Although I think you two should cut your cake first before you change." She giggled.

"Oh, no!" Kiera answered playfully. "I don't trust him feeding me cake in this dress!"

"You're talking like I'm going to ruin that dress, love." He smirked with a mischievous hint.

"You're forgetting I remember what you told me in London before the ball!"

He shrugged, "A lot of things happened before the ball..."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Eva giggled. "I'm going to go smother one of my grandchildren in kisses and spoil them later."

Kiera blushed, "He can't control what comes out of his mouth." She explained as her mother began to walk away, leaving just the two of them to sit in their mischievous silence.

"Just like you can't control what goes into your mouth, love," He smirked, pressing a kiss to the back of her head before continuing his mischievous charade. "Do you need any help getting out of that dress?"

"Later, babe," She giggled. "I know if me and you snuck away now, we won't be back in time to cut the cake."

"I can make it quick. We do need to make this wedding official, you know..." He poked.

"Oh, you always make it quick," She giggled in a teasing tone, knowing it riled him up. "And our wedding was official when we said our I do's, you do know that right?"

"I sure do, love," He smirked against her hair. "You keep teasing me and I'll give you a reason to get out of that dress."

She couldn't help but bite her lip, "And if you keep on I'll put it on lockdown until after the honeymoon."

"You wouldn't dare." He chuckled in a playful tone.

"You know me to keep my word, don't you?"

"That you do, Mrs. Riley."

With much to anticipate, Kiera wasn't surprised when Simon playfully smeared the cake across her chin when it was time for them to make the first slice, although she got her revenge when she pushed a piece of cake into his chin and nose, watching his face flush in embarrassment while everyone laughed at their playfulness. "You're going to take the biscuit, love." He warned playfully.

She smiled before she kissed him, the frosting still on his chin and nose before mumbling against his lips, "Like I said when you finally came home with me the first time: there's no biscuits here, babe. You're a long way from England."

"I'm glad I am." He smirked.

After a half hour, it was time for the speeches of the night before Simon and Kiera's first dance as man and wife - their first private dance. He stretched his arm over the back of Kiera's chair, sighing heavily as he watched Johnny stand at the microphone, knowing that whatever was about to come out of his mouth would be nothing close to sentimental, especially when he noticed that Johnny didn't just have one glass of champagne. "Bloody hell." He grumbled, taking a deep breath and shaking his head.

Johnny humorously removed a pair of pages from his pocket, blowing onto it as if it had collected dust. "I've been holding onto this for a long time," He breathed into the microphone, raising his brows as the crowd smiled. "Although Simon is nowhere close to being sentimental, I can't say I'm surprised he turned out to be a big teddy bear when it comes to the lass next to him there," He snickered at Simon's glare.

"Love, can I have the rest of your champagne?" He grumbled, watching her playfully roll her eyes before reaching her glass of champagne towards him, giggling when she felt his thumb graze against her arm, seeking the warmth of her skin to soothe him from the embarrassment that he was sure to come.

"Even though he didn't choose a best man, I know it was a hard decision for him between the three of us, but we all know he would've chosen me if he had to," He snickered. "With that said, I am honored to stand here today as the best man for my best friend. And even though he'll deny it, we have been best friends for nearly ten years, although our friendship consists of many hate comments, I know he loves me. But, before this speech, I got a very clear warning from him about his expectations before I started blurting out stuff about him. For example, he plainly told me: 'Mate, I am forty years old, and you don't need to say anything embarrassing, so just leave it short and safe and nothing emotional.' End quote. So, I had a choice to listen to my lifelong friend or continue to live on the edge. So, L.T., I'm sorry. You should know me better than that," He smirked, chuckling at Simon's dangerous glare that was peering back at him while Kiera's face held a playful and amused smile. "I almost can't say this next line... As I stand here-" Johnny began to laugh, taking a step back from the microphone.

"Do it!" Gaz and Alejandro shouted from the table, daring him.

Johnny breathed another laugh, "As I stand here, I can't help but reminisce about the good old days when we were young and carefree. People were always so scared of Simon here for some reason, but I wasn't. I found it quite amusing to get on his nerves. He won't admit it, but I was like the little brother he wished he had. I looked up to him - he had the brains, the dry humor, charisma, athleticism, and looks if he would've just taken off his mask during our time in the field and now, let's not forget, a smoking hot wife," He raised his brows. "L.T., I'm sorry. Teeter put me up to it-"

"I sure did baby!" Teeter chimed, raising her glass of champagne and crossing her knee over her opposite leg. "She got hotter with age!"

"So, Kiera, I'd like to thank you for your beauty, because if it wasn't, I wouldn't have been here today," He continued with a laugh. "And trust me, Teeter approved for me to say this as she knew it would tick you off and Kyle and Alejandro dared me to do it. So guys, thanks for the fifty dollars," He snickered, glancing over at Simon to see his dangerous glare darken while Kiera's face flushed with embarrassment. "Simon and I have been through a lot. We blew up cities together and got lost in a small town in Mexico... I bet you all were expecting me to say we used to play basketball and football together, aye?"

The crowd laughed.

"We were unfortunately roommates, almost-business partners, and on many occasions have gotten into a lot of trouble together... most of it being my fault and mainly being at a pub, but that's a story for a different day. But, since Simon isn't the most sentimental of the bunch, I've had no choice but to bring out my inner baby and be the sentimental one. Simon has always been my hero. More funny stuff is coming, I promise, but I have to be sappy for a moment at least," He assured the crowd, swaying on his own two feet. "Those of you that know Simon well can agree that he is a man of many talents. If you don't believe me, just ask his wife. He's the smartest person I know and it's come to my advantage many times. He's the reason why I wanted to be an expert in explosives because he made it look so easy. His ability to memorize and process information is unreal. On occasion, this freakish gift even makes him money - like that time at the pub in London when he was able to hold a conversation about the Queen for a minute straight - which is surprising considering he was talking to a stranger about this and to all who know Simon, he's not much for talking to strangers. He could've won money that night, but it was really me who made a bet that I could get you out of your shell and made a bet with a random lad to talk about the Queen. So, you're welcome," Johnny nodded, chuckling at Simon's continuous glare.

"God save the Queen!" Teeter chimed, balancing on the brink of being tipsy.

"The Queen has passed, love." Price corrected her with a soothing tone of his voice.

"A photographic memory might not translate to marriage, but I do have a few things that will: Simon is a man of integrity. He is very loyal and trustworthy and is not afraid to tell you the truth, even when you don't want to hear it. Trust me, been there many times. He will always support you - if you've earned his respect - and he always brings humor into every situation. And trust me, if he wasn't on the same channel as my comms that night we were stuck in Mexico, I would've had an anxiety attack," Johnny nodded. "We have all been so blessed to watch Simon finally find his person in Kiera, who is also a woman of integrity, who is very loyal and trustworthy and who really knows how to love people, but I will say that Kiera can be scarier than Simon. But best yet, Kiera gets Simon's dry humor and stupid jokes. She isn't offended by it and gives it right back to him and can put him in his place," He snickered. "This next chapter is going to be amazing for you two and Simon, I can't wait for you to be a great uncle to my kids someday just as I've watched you be a great father of your own. Although I can still promise that your son will be sporting a mohawk by the time he's five whether you like it or not. And if you protest, I'll send Kiera on you. It took you nearly forty years to find someone as special as Kiera and I know that you're going to cherish her for the rest of your life. So, in closing, I thought it would be appropriate to recite a poem for one of the greatest romantics of our generation: the poem is called My Pony from the poet Genuine... edited version..."

"Bloody fucking hell." Simon grumbled, leaning forward to hide his face in his hands.

"See how I got him riled up?" Johnny pointed, the crowd now chuckling at him. "I'm just kidding, L.T. I had to go out making sure I spiked your blood pressure."

"Remind me to slip a sedative into his drink to shut him up." Simon grumbled to Kiera, his face red.

"But in all seriousness, I'd like to make a toast: to Simon and Kiera, I hope you two spend the rest of your lives with happiness and love, flourishing with each other as you continue to prove all of your friends wrong that you're really a big softie instead of a big and scary man. Simon, in a non-gay way, I love you - your team loves you... and your wife." He snickered, raising his glass as the rest did the same, each holding a smile before releasing laughter at Soap's silly speech.

Kiera laughed as she wrapped her arm around Simon's, rubbing his hand soothingly as she knew he wasn't used to being put on the spot, watching him shake his leg under the table. When the applause ceased and Soap returned to his chair, Eva being the next one to take a spot behind the microphone, her eyes puffy from holding the weathered piece of paper between her fingers. "I definitely can't top that, but I'm sure Simon is appreciative with that relief," She giggled, watching him relax his shoulders as he sat back in his chair, his hand coming down to grasp Kiera's between his hand and thigh, rubbing his thumb over the bulge of her diamond ring. Perfect.

"Although I can add some embarrassing stories about my daughter, I'll do it at the end of this speech to lighten the mood because I know this won't be an easy one. Kiera, sweetheart, this speech was written by your father and he told me to not read it until your wedding day," She sniffled before revealing the paper from its envelope.

Simon sensed Kiera's heartbreak on the horizon. Sitting back in his chair, he stretched his arm behind her and began rubbing her arm with his thumb, preparing himself to pull her into him when she began to cry.

"Since you were born and you were wrapped in that pink blanket and I smelled and held you for the first time, you stole my heart. I remember the first time your mother and I saw you - you were a little flicker on an ultrasound and I remember asking: "What's that light?" and the doctor told me that it was your heartbeat. The day you were born was the best day of my life. The day you were born made me realize what's truly important in my life. I remember your mother and I used to predict how fast time would go by. Each of us hoped you'd stay little forever, but we knew it wasn't true. I remember when you first went to Kindergarten - standing there in your little purple jumper. I still remember you were so happy to go and we were so sad to see you leave, knowing time would go by too quick. But you changed me. You were always up for the next challenge at age four, ready to get on that crazy little pony that drove your mother crazy every time you swung your leg over its back, from me reading stories to you and to us going on cattle drives together. And when it was your last cattle drive with me, I remember how we raced to the top with smiles on our faces. You told me how excited you were to pursue the rest of your life with Simon, tears in your eyes from excitement and happiness. In that same moment, you changed me - you made me realize how beautiful life is and I'm so grateful to have been able to share it with you and your husband, to see how much joy Jacob and Evie bring into your mother and I's lives - filling our house with so much love at every holiday. And now, your new journey starts and I can't wait to see how you change. I remember when we first met Simon. When I first saw you and him together, I knew then that he was going to be the one to hold your heart long after I'm gone. The way he looks at you is the same as how I look at your mother. I just know your wedding is going to be the most special day in our lives and I know I'll have the best seat in the house. No matter how grown you are, you will always be my little girl. No matter how many hard bridges we've crossed together, I've loved you more and more each day." Eva read with tears streaming down her face, Kiera's tears flowing themselves as her lip quivered. "Sweetheart, I've never been more proud of you. You are such an amazing mother and will be the best wife for Simon. He is a man you truly deserve as you're a woman he deserves. I can't wait to see how far you two go on your journey and I'm so happy to be a part of it. I love you two to the stars."

#simonghostriley #simonriley #simon riley #simon ghost riley #call of duty #callofduty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #ghost mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #cod #ghost cod mw2 #cod mw2 ghost #mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #ghost

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sickfictropes · 3 months ago

Note

(Content: Non-binary caretaker, lady whumpee, living weapon whump, injury whump, superhuman whump)

Here's an idea. A living weapon whumpee who's the sweetest person Caretaker has ever met.

Caretaker built up their first meeting so much in their mind—they were told to be careful, don't get too close, don't make eye contact, keep your voice low, let us know if anything goes wrong, call for help if you get hurt... when they actually find themself in front of her, they're shaking from nerves. But she's so... kind. The first thing she did was ask in a soft voice if they were alright. "I'm not gonna hurt you. Don't be scared. You can stay over there if it makes you more comfortable, okay? I'm tied up, see? I can't even reach you—no reason to worry."

Everything Caretaker was told about her was wrong. They can barely even bring themself to believe she's all that powerful any more. If she was, what reason would she have to be so timid?

Over time, they get closer and closer, even to the point where Caretaker is okay getting into Whumpee's reach. Caretaker makes a habit of tending to Whumpee's wounds after what she calls "training sessions." They chat, they laugh, they tell each other stories and find silly things to tease each other about. Sometimes, when Whumpee is with Caretaker, she can feel—just for a little bit—like she's somewhere other than a cell. She tries so hard to make sure she doesn't seem at all threatening, especially since she's already got such a tall, muscular frame. She dips her head, speaks quietly, gives her most reassuring smile.

Caretaker feels terrible for ever being scared of Whumpee, even though it wasn't their fault they were fed nonsense about her. It's heartbreaking how obviously lonely she is with how her eyes follow them, how she opens her mouth ready to protest when they say they have to go, only to snap it shut and cast her eyes to her lap.

She's Caretaker's best friend and they love her. They don't understand why everyone else who handles her is so afraid all the time—but they irritatedly chalk it up to the preconceived notions people tend to have around superhumans. She's stronger, faster, more durable than them, so they fear her. That's all it is.

One day, they're excited to see her—excited enough that they pick up a gift for her, something to decorate that dreary cell they can't stand that she's locked in, and they show up for a visit early.

"Whumpee!" They chirp, striding in and shutting the door with a flair. "Good morning! I got you a—"

"Go away."

It's then that Caretaker gets a good look at her. She's curled into the corner of the room, knees hugged tight to her chest. And she's got a cut on her eyebrow, open and bleeding in a dark trickle down her face.

"Oh... oh, Whumpee—here, I should help you with that. I brought my supplies in case you needed any first aid. Just hold still and I'll take care of it." Caretaker sets the gift down gently on the floor and approaches slowly. Whumpee doesn't seem to hear them, but she hasn't protested. Well, not since the initial go away.

Whumpee flinches when Caretaker's footsteps get too close. "I said go away. You said we were done today. We're done today."

"I— Whumpee, I don't know what you're talking about. It's okay, it's me. Caretaker."

They kneel down in front of her, and slowly, gingerly, they place a hand on her shoulder. Her head snaps up and her hand flies to their wrist, clutching hard. The pain pushes out their mind and they hear a horrific snap before she jumps to her feet and flings them over her shoulder. They crash to the cold metal floor and their breath rushes out of their lungs.

It hurts. It hurts it hurts it hurts.

They can't help the primal cry that shoots out of their mouth. That must be what brings Whumpee back, because she blinks twice and then her hands cover her mouth. "C-C-Caretaker? Is... is that... you? Oh—oh, oh, oh no, you're... you're here so early, I—I thought..." She drops to her knees over them, and she's back to herself, a minute too late.

"Whumpee... I'm—" They hiss, clutching their injured—broken?—wrist against their chest. "I'm okay. I'm s-sorry, I should've asked if—if it was okay to show up like this."

"Caretaker, I... I think you should go. Now, please." Whumpee shakes her head. "I can do some r-real damage when I'm like that. If you can walk, go get some medical attention."

"No. No, I'm fine, I promise, I just... Whumpee—"

The door clicks open, and a guards flood in. Hands guide Caretaker to their feet, and they're dizzy from pain, so they lean on the nearest body. Voices overlap. Caretaker squints up at Whumpee before she's obscured by two guards holding tasers. "No," they gasp, "don't— it was my fault, please don't hurt—"

Something sharp presses into their neck, and the world goes black.

They never visit her early ever again.

wow, i don't even have any contribution i could make for this!! no notes!!

#whump #whump tropes #whump community #whump prompts #whump scenario

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satninroses · 2 years ago

Text

Behind Unlocked Doors: Pt. 2 | E.P x Reader

(A/N): The long awaited sequel is here!! I had initially started working on this pre-overhaul. It’s been sitting in my drafts for a little bit so I’m SUPER happy to have it published. I hope you all enjoy :-)!

Summary: Elvis confronts you after the run-in during part one. He shows you how much he loves and adores you.

Link to Pt. 1

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Fem! Reader

Word count: 4,682

Warnings: SMUT! MINORS DNI! Crying, Little bit of angst, Dirty talk, Fingering, Penetration, (F. receiving) Oral, (F. receiving) Hint of orgasm denial.

You didn’t join the Mafia for breakfast, lunch or dinner. Whenever there was a recording session, you sat in the corner of the studio and read a book quietly as to not draw attention to yourself. There were times when Elvis would stop you in the hall but you would act like you couldn’t hear him or see him and practically run back to your room.

Elvis on the other hand, hated this new treatment. You were already quiet and reserved. He knows he just made it worse. He desperately wanted to ask Jerry if he could talk to you but he didn’t know how he would react to Elvis watching his little sister masturbate.

At some point, Elvis had reached a breaking point. He needed to apologize or talk to Jerry. While he really didn’t favor either option, it was only chance at salvaging what he had ruined.

That night, Elvis had approached Jerry. Jerry smiled and waved.

“Hey boss. What’s up?” Elvis’ heart dropped. He would feel bad if Jerry already knew and he was telling him but Jerry really had no clue what was going on.

“Hey. I really need to talk to you about something. It’s not easy to talk about either. It’s about (Y/N).”

Jerry’s happy smile turned into a confused expression. “What do you mean?”

Elvis sucked in a breath. “I’m gonna tell you this. Please hold your anger til the end.” Jerry was really curious and a little worried.

“Ok?”

“The other night when you guys went to the casino and I stayed back, I walked upstairs to talk to her and walked in on her… relieving some tensions…” Elvis trailed off.

“I don’t understand Elvis.”

Elvis internally groaned. He knew he had to rip it off fast like a bandaid.

“I walked in on (Y/N) using a dildo on herself. She kinda… squirted everywhere. Even on me. I didn’t move and I watched but honest, I didn’t mean too. I know this probably isn’t something you wanted to know. However, she’s been acting off since then and I really need you to convince her to talk to me. I need to apologize real bad.” Elvis exhaled a breath that he didn’t even know he was holding. He waited for a response.

“I…” Jerry was at a loss for words. He didn’t know whether to be angry or surprised or all of the above. Before Elvis even had the chance to react, Jerry had slapped him across the face. His hands dropped to his side and he also exhaled.

“That’s for watching her and probably scaring her shitless. I’ll go talk to her but you better apologize IMMEDIATELY.” Elvis nodded quickly and out his hands out in defeat.

“Without a doubt. Thank you for doing this.”

Jerry nodded and walked out of the room. Elvis sat on the nearest and chair and took a moment to calm down. He knew he needed to make it clear to you that he wasn’t disgusted or uncomfortable with you. And, by the sound of his name pouring out of your mouth, you weren’t uninterested either. He had to think of a way to address the situation without coming across like a creep.

You sat on your plush bed and read some of your books. You needed a way to take your mind of everything that happened. “What if he thinks I'm disgusting or perverted?” You thought out loud to yourself. It was never your intention for him to walk in and see you in such a vulnerable state. You didn't mean to keep fucking yourself even with his eyes on you. Since then, you had been locking the door to every room you go into. Your room, the bathroom, the dressing rooms, sometimes the studio doors. (You don’t mean to do that. It’s a force of habit.)

There was a gentle rap at your door. You froze before tip toeing to the door to look out the peephole. It was Jerry. He wore a not-pleasant expression on his face. You opened the door and peeked out.

“Jerry? Are you ok?”

“(Y/N). I know what happened the other night. Elvis told me. I know it was unintentional and I’m here to pass on a message from Elvis. He wants to apologize, but he wants to apologize to you in person.”

An unhappy look spreads across your face. “Oh.” You simply stated. You cheeks begun to heat up in embarrassment and shame from being confronted by your big brother about something so private. You feel tears well up in your eyes at the idea of him being disgusted by your lack of self-awareness. You SHOULD have locked the door and you SHOULD have covered up and ignored the burning heat in your pussy. But you didn’t.

“I-I can try. Is he downstairs?” You ask through your heaving breathing and tears. “Yeah.” He replies. You rip your eyes away from him and look to the side. This was humiliating. How could you be such a prude?

“Sis, I’m not mad at you. Is that why you’re crying?” You sniffle again before the waterworks begin. He pushes the door all the way open and envelopes you in a hug. “I feel disgusted with myself Jerry. I feel like a whore and Elvis probably thinks I'm a whore too. I'm sorry Jerry.”

“Oh (Y/N). It ain't your fault. He came to me apologizing a whole lot. He didn't mean to make things weird. Listen, why don't we head downstairs and you can talk to him. I'll be right behind ya, ok?”

You stood there for a minute, held against your brothers chest thinking. Eventually you made a small noise to show you agreed and released him from the hug. “Please just give me a moment to collect myself.” He nodded. “I'll be downstairs.”

You entered your room again and took a deep breath to calm yourself down. You walked to your bathroom and fixed your hair and makeup. You changed from your pajamas to a cute, white babydoll dress. You threw on a big fluffy cardigan along with your frilly socks and Mary Janes. You made your way out of the room and took the elevator to the ground floor.

You arrived in the lobby to be met with an abnormal amount of people. You made your way around the sea of bodies to the V.I.P lounge where Elvis and the mafia were usually stationed. You walk up to the bouncer and tap him gently on the shoulder.

He looks down at you and smiles. “Hey (Y/N). Here to get a drink?”

“Not exactly. However, that's also welcome.” You both laughed softly. He lifted the bar and let you in. “Have a good night sweets. Stay safe.”

“Thank you Hank!” You gushed sweetly at him and waved. You made your way down the little hallway and into the lounge itself. It was littered with all kinds of people having a good time. You walked around for a minute before finding the booth that your brother was in. In the booth, Elvis sat at the end followed by Billy, Scotty, Jerry, Joe, and Charlie. Billy was the first to notice you.

“Hey (Y/N)! Came down to get a drink with us?” At the sound of your name, Elvis and Jerry shot their heads up. Elvis blushed and smiled at you but you sported a nervous look. You walked over and stood awkwardly by Charlie at the other end of the table. Charlie look up, confused, as to why you were just standing there.

“God damnit fellas, make some room for her! Scoot down Charlie!” Charlie followed by everyone else scoot down a seat leaving space right next to Elvis. He pat the spot invitingly and you sat down. You clenched your hands between your thighs and cowered. You were nervous. You didn’t want him to be doing this out of pity or because he was about to make fun of you. Your knee bounced up and down rapidly out of anxiety.

Jerry cleared his throat and you looked at him. He raised his eyebrow to ask ‘Are you ok?’ You nodded and looked away. Jerry flagged down one of the waiters to get you a drink and some food for the table.

“(Y/N), what do you want to drink?”

“Uhh… May I please get the Frozen Strawberry Daiquiri?” The waiter nodded.

“Anything else for the table?” Elvis perked up.

“Yeah, let us get 2 baskets of fries and onion rings each,” he leaned over you to speak privately to the waiter. “Oh and…get the lady some of those fancy chocolate covered strawberries.” Elvis slipped him a few $50 bills before he walked off.

While he was leaned over speaking to the waiter, his hands found their way onto your thighs as support. He played it off as trying to steady himself but you could see through that. While he grabbing the bills from his pocket, he grabbed onto your inner thigh to stead himself from falling. He leaned a good bit of his weigh onto you and let his hands slip up to in between your upper thighs. A dusty pink blush spread itself across your face as you let him hold you this way.

He released your thighs and you curled back into yourself. For the time that you had been waiting for your drinks and food, Elvis and guys had been talking up a storm. They cracked jokes, told stories, planned for different shows and all around had a good time. While it didn’t seem like it, you were also having a good time. You didn’t make any comments but you listened and giggled quietly at the appropriate times. These last few days of secluding yourself from everyone were boring. It was nice to hear people talk for a change.

The time passed slowly though. It had felt like forever since you ordered your drinks but like clockwork, they showed up. A few of the guys had ordered some beers to the table along with the food and your pretty drink. The waiter sets down your drink last before turning back to the cart. He pulls out a pretty pink heart-shaped dish with an assorted variety of chocolate covered strawberries.

You cock your head in confusion. “Oh, I’m sorry. We didn’t order this?”

“Mr. Presley ordered them.”

‘That’s probably what he was telling the waiter,’ you thought to yourself.

“Doll, they’re for you.” Elvis adds quietly. You turned your head and face him for the first time in a few days. You blushed again and opened your mouth, but shut it. You murmured a quiet ‘thank you.’

For a few minutes, you didn’t touch the strawberries. You just slowly sipped on your drink and thought about stuff. Finally, after 10 or so minutes, you started to eat. You took small bites to savor the flavor as these were the BEST chocolate covered strawberries you had ever had.

Elvis had watched as your face contorted from an uncomfortable look to a much more relaxed and content look. He leaned over to Jerry.

“I think I’m gonna talk to her now if that’s ok? Watch our drinks please.” He whispered in his ear. Jerry nodded his head but gripped Elvis’ sleeve.

“If she comes back crying again we’re gonna have to have a talk.” Elvis nodded and stood up. He wasn’t used to being bossed around by his right hand man, but he understood his protective instinct over his little sister and respected that.

“Darlin’. Would you mind comin’ with me? I need to talk to you real quick.”

You glanced up at him and back at your brother for help. Your brother plastered a reassuring smile on his face and nodded. You gulped and stood up to get out of his way. He you offered his hand to you and you took it, following him out of the lounge and into a back hallway.

“Is everything ok, Elvis?” You asked quietly. You were nervous as to what was to come. Was he about to fire you? Was he going to tell you that you needed to find somewhere else to go because you can’t travel with them? Was he going to fire you AND Jerry because of what happened? All these possibilities and thoughts clouded your head and you became visibly distressed.

“Yeah. I needed to talk to you about the other night.”

Oh god. It was happening. The media would find out about this and your lives would be destroyed. Everyone would find out how much of a whore you are. You would never be allowed out in public. People would call you names and mock you.

“Yes?” You replied shakily.

“I want to apologize. I should have knocked. I know I made you uncomfortable and I really don’t want that to be the way you think bout’ me. I’m real sorry yittle. I hope you can forgive me.”

You widen your eyes at his confession. ‘He thinks he made me uncomfortable?’ You feel an overwhelming sence of guilt take over.

“I-I.. I don’t know what to say. I thought I made you uncomfortable. I didn’t want to face you because I was afraid you would send me away. I’m so sorry Elvis.” You took a deep breath to calm your shaky breaths. Before there was a moment to speak, he enveloped you in a tight hug.

Your hands laid limp at your side for a moment but eventually, you wrapped them around his torso. His head laid in the crook of your neck and he breathed your scent. This nose breaths on a sensitive part of your neck and you push yourself into him and made a whimpering noise. He raised his head and stared down into your eyes. You stared back. You felt a sense of intimacy in this moment. You searched for the love in his eyes and he in yours.

“(Y/N)… Can I kiss you?” You didn’t respond. You made a bold move of initiating the kiss. You stood on your tippy toes and snaked your hands up and around his neck. He kissed back and deepened it as well. His lips were so soft and plush against your own. He stuck his tongue in your mouth to turn the kiss into a more sensual one. He tasted like rum and coke. His scent invaded your senses. The smell of his typical cologne- Lenel For Men- had hints of citrus and spice. You were intoxicated by his scent, taste, and the feeling of his body wrapped around your own. You could simply sit here forever and be stuck in his being forever.

He felt the same way about you. You were so pretty like this. So pretty when you look into his eyes. So pretty when you whimper. So pretty when you let him paw at your thighs. So so so so pretty when you squirted to the thought of him. Since that night, he wanted to fill you up and make you his own. He loved you and he yearned for you. He needed to make things right before he could act on his primal urges.

His kisses got more erotic and desperate. He wanted to be as close to you as possible. He wanted to be IN you. His hands slipped from your waist to the small of you back. You move your hands so they’re right up against his chest. You moan quietly his hands move further down and onto your ass. He gives it a squeeze and then a slap.

“E-Elvis! Maybe we shouldn’t do this right here…” You suggest timidly. You want him right now but you would rather not be caught by random bystanders.

“You’re right doll face. Wouldn’t want people to see what’s mine.” Mine. The word replayed in your head like a ringing bell. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. You could feel your panties become wet from his sultry and deep southern drawl. “Oh Elvis, you don’t know how long I’ve dreamed about this! I need you right now!”

He chuckled and pulled you into a secluded laundry room. He locked the door behind him and set you on a folding table. “Doll, you don’t know how long I’ve dreamed of this either. When I saw you the other night, pretty little cunt out I wanted to fuck you on that bed. I wanted to replace that silly little toy with myself. I want to be your man and I want you to be my woman.”

Your eyes widened at his confession. With some kind of newfound confidence and bravery, you pulled him by the collar of his shirt and kissed him. He didn’t hesitate to return the kiss. His hands went straight to cradling your cheeks. He squished them slightly and deepened the kiss. One of his hand snake down to your dress-clad breast and begins to gently massage it. His fingers find their way the the bottom of your dress and bunch it up to your waist.

“Take it off baby.” He demands. You nod quietly and pull the dress over your head and on the floor next to the legs of the table. His hands and mouth are all over you. His mouth begins to suck and nip at your collarbone while his fingers pinch and prod at your tits and nipples. “Oh, Elvis! Oh g-gosh.” You stuttered out. You felt him smirk against your collarbone before moving his mouth and hands down lower. He kisses the space in between and above your breasts before finally taking one of your nipples in his mouth.

His hands felt like lava on your skin as they pushed you down further onto the table. Your back hits the cold granite and it archs. You tits were pretty and perky in his mouth as his whole body moved to match yours- like a puzzle piece. His hands move from your stomach to your groin where he traced your pelvis bone with his rough, calloused fingers.

“Elvis, please. Please take me I need you.” He got a lopsided grin on his face and nodded. He pushes himself back from you and leans down so he’s eye level with your cunt. “So pretty, baby. You want me to take this pretty pussy? All’s you gotta say is yes and I’ll have you pretty girl.” You feel wetness pool in your panties and you nod frantically “Yes, please! Need you inside Elvis!”

His ego was being stroked and he let that show through. He pressed his fingers to your panties and let the wetness coat his fingers. The feeling of his hot fingers on your pussy sent an electric shock down your spine and you shivered. He stuck said fingers in his mouth and stared you down while he devoured your juices. He pulled them out with a pop and smirked. “You’re so sweet baby. Gotta taste the whole thing.”

He made quick work of your panties. He slid them down and put them in his pocket haphazardly. The cool air hit and your legs instinctively shut themselves around his hand. He pried them open with ease. “Gonna make you fall apart on my tongue baby.”

He let his fingers run through your silky folds and once again glaze his fingers. You moaned out his name and sat up. Your elbows supported most of your weight as you watched him with hooded eyes.

His mouth replaces his fingers as he dives head first into your cunt. His warm mouth wrapped around your pearly bud almost immediately after he started. Your arms buckle and you fall back onto the table. You back arches and you move your hands to where is head is stationed in between your legs. “Elvis! Oh god! Oh it feels so good Elvis don’t stop!”

He moves his fingers to your achy hole. At first, he was spreading your lips with his fingers but decided he needed to open you up before you took his cock. Using your wetness as a lubricant, he sticks a long finger in you. You let out a high pitched moan and vice gripped his hair. He took this as a sign to keep going. He sticks a second finger in you and begins thrusting then in and out.

You juices mixed with your velvet walls and his fingers made a sort of squelching sound that was only turning you on more. “Oh god Elvis. I’m so close, mmm!” You pushed your head against the table and began to clamp your thighs around his head.

As if the devil himself had possessed the black-hairs sex god below you, he removed his mouth and fingers from your burning heat. An empty feeling replaced the god-like sensation that was driving through your body. Your head shot up and you stared at him with a confused look. “W-why did you stop? Did I do something wrong?” He chuckled and shook his head.

“No baby. I want to fill you up with my cock though. I also want to cum with you.” You shivered at his words and nodded. He placed one of his hands on your tits and massaged them. Your mouth opens and silent gasps fall out at the feeling of him. He began to unbutton the shirt his shirt and unbuckle his pants with his free hand. He threw the shirt on the ground and kicked his pants off- leaving him in his boxers. He removed his hand from you and pushed his boxers down.

His hardened cock slapped his stomach and leaked with precum. “Ain’t it bigger than that silly toy? I know you wish it was me instead of that little thing.” You shuddered and nodded. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from his cock. You felt a little embarrassed but you just couldn’t stop looking.

“Are you ready pretty girl?” You nodded again. Your eyebrows furrow and your lips make a small ‘o’ shape. He prods the tip at you and begins to push it in. Inch by inch, you could feel yourself stretching out dramatically. While you have used dildos and other phallic shaped objects on yourself, you were still a virgin. You had never had a man fully inside you before- obvious by the pained moans that left your mouth.

“E… Please slow down it h-hurts.” He nodded and bent down to you. His torso lay over yours and his head was right near yours.

“Such a pretty girl. Such a sweet, angelic little thing. You have nothing to be afraid of baby, I’m gonna take real good care of you, right darlin’?” His sweet nothings were like a molasses to your ears. “Mmm, E? You can move now.”

Once he bottomed out, he began a stead, rhythmic pace as he thrusted into you. Little babbles and coos left your mouth. He just felt so good. All these months of lusting after him were really showing through now. All those nights when you rode that little dildo couldn’t compare to your position right now.

“Faster, please!” His thrusts picked up from a leisure stroll to a light jog. His hands moved from your hips, up onto the sides of your breasts. He balanced his weight before giving them squeezes, pinches, and prods.

“God darlin’. This pussy was made for me. Just molds around me so well. Gonna be mine forever.”

His pace increased sharply, as did his force. It felt like he was pounding you into the table and it hurt so good. He moved his hands to your sides and ceased action again. He pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach. He pulled you to the edge of the table so your legs dangled over the side. He re-entered again and rushed back to the pace you were at before. In this new position, he could reach even deeper into you so he could show you just how good your body could feel.

“Oh god! Elvis! Harder please!” He obliged and strengthened his pace. He placed both hands on your ass and pounded harder. “You gettin’ close baby? Gonna cum on me?” You let out a high-pitched ‘Mhm!’ Your hands stretched above you to hold the other end of the table with a tight grip. His hands squeezed the globes of your ass and he bent over you again. “Gonna make you cum so good baby. Gonna fuck you so good you won’t be able to do anything but moan my name. Make you my little dumb angel. Like the sound of that?”

You nodded and moaned. “Yes Elvis! I’m close! Please make me cum, mmm!” He could feel the way your cunt tightened around his cock signaling your release. “Come on baby, cum with me. Cum on my cock. Come on.”

He pace quickened again and he maxed out. His was growling in your ear and nipping your neck. All of a sudden, he hit a soft spongy part inside you that made you perk up. He hit it again, and again, and again, and again. You were seeing white spots and stars in your vision as you chased your release. “Gonna cum baby. Cum with me!”

His words pushed you over the edge and your orgasm hit you like a freight train. His orgasm hit him as well and he slammed his hands against the table. “FUCK!” he released deep into every nook and cranny of your pussy. His arms gave in and his full body weight was leaned against your back.

For a moment, neither of you said anything, just heavy breaths and small whimpers. He pushed himself up and off you and stood up straight. He took the panties out of his pants pocket and wiped his cock with them. You leaned up with what little strength you held.

He took the panties and wiped your pussy from behind with slow and gentle strokes. You let out overstimulated mewls.

“Are you able to stand doll?” He asked quietly. You slowly flipped over so you were on your back and touched your feet to the ground. You stood for a moment with wobbly legs and stumbled over to his arms.

“Barley.” You both laugh. He holds you close to him as he gets your dressed again. He puts on the cum soaked panties and pulls them up your legs. You push your thighs together and hold onto his shoulder. “You did really good baby. So proud of you.” He puts your bra on you and clasps it together. With the help of him, you slip on your dress and socks before sitting down on the table to wait for him.

He throws his boxers, pants, and button up back on. He puts his socks and shoes on and holds a hand out to you. “Let’s head back. If any of them ask, just say you cried a little bit.” You giggle and nodded.

“Oh, and doll?”

“Hmm?”

“I was serious. I want you to be my girl. I don’t want to spend another moment not with you.” He confesses quietly.

You gasp and look at him. Your big (E/C) eyes bore into his pretty ocean blue ones. “I want to be with you too Elvis. I love you so much.”

He smiles and kisses you sweetly. You return the kiss. You held that position for a few minutes before a loud voice calls down the hall. You let go of him and retreat to his side.

“Mr. Presley? Mr. Schilling was looking for you and Ms. Schilling. Should I tell them you’re alright?”

Elvis lets put a hearty chuckle and hugs you closer to his side.

“Tell him we’re more than alright.”

(Taglist): @mt12209 , @austinsmutler , @18lkpeters , @presleyenterprise , @myradiaz , @ccab @livelaughelvis

#50s elvis #60s elvis #70s elvis #elvis presley #elvis presley x reader #reader insert #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader smut #x reader #x reader smut #reader insert smut #elvis x reader smut #satninroses

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the-words-we-sung · 8 months ago

Text

Thoughts and pictures - S3E3

The great rewatch of season 3 continues! And we're halfway through with episode 3. As usual, it's probably gonna get a bit long so proceed with caution 😁

And we're starting off with some big big pressure on Wilhelm, for a change... "I don't know if I can handle it" => ma'am, you're the queen, you're an adult, you're his mother. Get a fucking grip!!

How can she put so much pressure on her son's shoulders? I understand that she's unwell, she hasn't grieved Erik's death properly in season 2 so this break down was bound to happen I guess, but how can she (and Ludwig) just abandon Wilhelm like that? And not so long after his speech (and the "trial" with August). Did either of them talk to him about it? About this huge coming out he just did? About how brave he was? One day I'll write a post just about Wilhelm and his parents because I have A LOT of feelings.

And I don't know a lot about how a monarchy works but would Wilhelm really have to step up and replace his mother if she was suddenly unfit to lead, despite being 16? That doesn't make a lot of sense, does it? Especially in this case when Wilhelm has been Crown Prince for very little time (and even needs a special Crown Prince school during summer to learn his duties).

"You wouldn't have been able to handle it. That I can fuck up too" => oh Simon, my sweet sweet boy... I have to say that I really like his scenes with his mother this season, I really needed to see Linda actually act like a mom, and Simon to become more "real" with her. So I love their scenes and dynamic this season!

Is Wilhelm still seeing Boris? Or is he really all alone in dealing with his mother's health and everything else? My boy needs help...

I'm sorry but Simon with helmet hair is just the cutest thing!

But gosh their communication is just so awful this season... On one hand Simon frustrates me a tiny bit because I didn't think he would be so "naive". I mean, of course it must feel truly awful to receive to many hate comments, but he's a teenager who knows how to use social media so I would have expected him to know that these people are trolls and responding to them would lead nowhere? The people writing these are not interested in knowing him or the truth or anything, just in being nasty because it's easy to do so anonymously. But also I guess he's 16. He's super young, I'm probably expecting too much maturity here and not being super fair ><

And on the other hand, Wilhelm also frustrates me because he barely stops to listen and to actually see what Simon is going through. And yeah, he's got the crazy pressure from his family and his mother being unwell but still, he's being very selfish. And he has always had a tendency to be, but it's 10x worst this season ><

(Also why did he not say anything to these mean girls mocking Simon's song when they entered the music room together??)

I'm realizing now that truly, these Boris sessions with Wilhelm and August are really fucked up: the sessions with Boris helped Wilhelm so much last season, he felt safe enough to talk there, to be honest, and he was able to work through the hard stuff in his life. And now they put August there? The person who made him feel unsafe, who recorded him and leaked the video online. They put that person here in his safe place with him? Which might explain why there's no more therapy sessions for Wilhelm this season (outside of the ones with August). It's so fucked up...

Wilhelm is feeling so cornered...

And Simon is breaking my heart... Omar is such a good actor, he portrays sadness way too well, I wanted to cry almost every time I saw Simon in this episode. He's so depressed, thinking everyone hates him, it's hard to watch... Why did season 3 have to be so cruel to him?

It's hard to enjoy the sweet moments between them (this scene for example, which I forgot was gonna happen there :p) when we just had a sad Simon, bad communication between them, Wilhelm being mean to him... It makes it hard (for me) to enjoy the cute scenes because it just feels like a small band-aid put on a gaping wound ><

I really liked that we got to see Felice's dad again, and this scene is so important! I love Felice's decision to go without her dad and to be honest in the end. I still think she should have had a stronger storyline throughout the whole show. She's a great character and she deserved more!!

Sara and Micke singing in the car: 💛 "I'd rather have a papa with bad spells than no papa at all" => I don't know August... I guess it's the eternal dilemma..

Just because he looks so incredibly beautiful here 💜

This Sara and Micke conversation was so important and needed! I really liked that we finally got a bit more information about Micke and what happened to their family.

And another scene that I forgot was happening in this episode ^^' I got too used to seeing the cute (and hot) scenes from this season with gifs here that I know them without the context around :p

Why is it that every time something good happens to Simon this season, it backfires immediately and Wilhem makes him sad about it? 😩

3 more episodes to go, wish me luck >< This season is even more depressing than I remembered ^^'

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practically-an-x-man · 23 days ago

Note

35 for Vivienne or Madison?

OOOOOH thank you!! I'm gonna go with Madison for this one, since she'd definitely be more affected by that.

35. Child Mistakes Them for a Monster

50 Superhero-Inspired Whump Prompts

____

A high, keening shriek made Madison's head snap up. She pinpointed the sound immediately: there, at the corner of the roof, with his back pressed to the air conditioning unit behind him. The little boy couldn't have been any older than seven, with dark skin and wide, frightened eyes. He reminded Madison of her sisters.

The boy was clutching a stuffed sea turtle, using its plush green shell as a shield as his attacker crept in. One slash of the feral mutant's claws, and soft white stuffing bled out from the toy and fell in drifts around them. The boy screamed again, this time even more plaintive than the first. Madison hoped, if nothing else, that swipe had been aimed to miss. Even in so many skirmishes, it was rare to find someone who would attack a defenseless child.

"Cover me." she hissed, hardly pausing to confirm if anyone had heard her before she darted away. Her camouflage fell around her after only a single step, her body vanishing into glints of light like mirror-shards.

Madison dove for her adversary, launching herself high onto their shoulders and throwing her weight backwards. It was a trick she'd learned from Raven, and had practiced on her teammates in countless sparring sessions. The feral toppled like a tree, and Madison jumped ship just before she could get crushed under their bulk.

She rolled backwards, biting down a spark of pain as her fins were pressed to her spine, then hopped to her feet with another lithe, swift motion. Her knives were in her hands in half a heartbeat, and she all but snarled as the feral took to their feet before her.

It was over with the first spray of blood. Much as a coyote could be diverted from its prey at the sign of a fight, it only took the first slash of her knives for the feral to realize this would not be an easy fight. It wasn't worth the effort, Madison figured, wasn't worth the pain. Even if the feral might have won- was likely to win, against Madison's smaller, weaker build - it was about the fight and not the victor.

With the battlefield cleared, or at least diverted, she allowed herself to take a breath. That could have much worse. Much worse. Madison sheathed her knives and allowed her posture to relax, then took a careful step towards the boy still cowering behind his tattered plushie.

"Hey, it's okay, I'm gonna get you out of here-"

"Get away!"

Madison froze in place. The boy was crying, his whole body trembling as he cringed away from her. He seemed to tuck himself into an even tighter ball, folding himself in against the underbelly of the air conditioning unit behind him. Madison swallowed hard, then slowly crouched until she matched his level. She took care not to move too fast- nothing that would startle him.

"I'm Madison," she said, with as soothing a voice as she could manage, "What's your name?"

The boy just shook his head and curled in on himself, his sobs reaching a fever pitch. Madison's heart clenched.

"What's your turtle's name?" she tried instead, "He's looking a little hurt right now, but my friend can stitch him up for you, okay? He'll be good as new."

She tried extending a hand to the boy, still keeping her motions slow and harmless. Even that much made him shriek, and he kicked away from her like a frightened animal. He clutched the toy to his chest like he thought she'd snatch it away from him.

He was scared. Of course he was scared. There was blood, and there were claws and teeth and sharp things, and even his poor plushie had fallen victim to the attack. He was right to be terrified, of her or anyone else.

"Hey, buddy, I'm not gonna hurt you." Madison continued, "I promise. Do you like puppies?"

That got a nod from him, at least. It wasn't much, but it was something. Madison whistled sharply, and Bravo bounded up to her side.

"This is Bravo." she said, placing a hand on Bravo's furry shoulder without moving from her spot, "He's very big, but he's also very friendly. He's as fluffy as your toy turtle, there. Do you want to meet him?"

Another nod, just barely.

"Okay," Madison said, "I'm going to send him over to you. He's big enough to carry you. You could ride him like a horse. Does that sound fun?"

One more nod. Three for three. The most progress she'd made so far. Animals always helped, she thought. It was a good thing she'd brought Bravo along. And a good thing he treated children like his own puppies.

"Bravo, go. Gentle." she murmured, and the wolfdog trotted over to the boy. Finally the child began to unwind from the tight ball he'd curled himself into, and Bravo ducked in to lick his face. Madison watched the scene, expecting another bout of tears or shrieks, but it seemed she'd finally made a bit of progress.

"Everything okay?" Raven's voice came from above her, and Madison's head snapped up.

"Poor thing's terrified. Won't move." she answered, "I'm hoping Bravo can help calm him down."

"Let me try," Raven said, in that firm Queen-of-the World voice of hers. Madison rolled her eyes.

"Give him a minute," she insisted, "I told you, he's fucking scared. This was probably the first fight he's ever seen. Probably hasn't even heard of mutants before."

"Don't have time." Raven insisted, "Fight's over, cops'll be here any minute. We need to get the kid out of here before they show up."

Without another word, Raven's form rippled from blue scales to pale skin, and she strode easily towards the boy. Madison bit her cheek, wincing in anticipation of new tears-

"Hey, kiddo. Let's get you out of here, alright?"

No tears. No screaming. The boy abandoned Bravo entirely and went scrambling for Raven, grabbing her tight in a hug and burying his face against her legs. And Raven led him away, heedless, taking his hand and walking him to the jet with no more fanfare than an aunt helping her nephew cross the street.

Something slick and cold and oily slithered through Madison's chest, and she slumped to the ground in defeat. Her eyes found her hands, her forearms: painted with rows of coral stripes, wide fins and barbed spines jutting sharply from her skin. They'd become so normal to her. Not human, not by any stretch of the imagination, but... normal. It was easy to forget how alien- how monstrous they could be to a child.

He wasn't afraid of the battle.

He was afraid of her.

#not my most polished writing but i like the emotion in this one #my friends!!!#answered asks #my writing #my ocs #madison douglas #ficlet #snippet

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stabknives · 6 months ago

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The V/B half of this ask!

I hear all of you asking me: what is V/B. Who is V/B. Can you please shut up about V/B it's very annoying how you keep talking about them like we should know what those letters even mean.

Well, I'm here to tell you, they're my little guys. And one of them is a girl that's not a girl. And the other one is an evil indie film director. Yayyyyyy.

TW for stalking, threats, noncon, violence, psychological torture, and more!

1. Starting simple, how did they first meet?

Hooboy! What a doozy. Need to give some context first. It's important to know they have several 'first meetings', thanks to the way V steals faces...

Anyway. B has always had an intense and wide eyed love for Hollywood. He's been a cinephile for as long as he's been alive, and would watch old vcr tapes until they broke in his family's garage on a beat up old box tv.

Movies were kind of his escape from a rough home life. He was the youngest of nine kids in an evangelical household, and his parents were… not very nice people! So he dreamed of one day escaping the farm and leaving for the big city.

So he leaves the very day he turns 18, hoping to make it big someday. Part of him desperately wants to be an actor, but he doesn't think he's cut out for all that attention. Instead, he'll settle for being a costume designer. He's great at sewing, and as long as he's involved in film, he knows he'll be happy.

He knows it.

B passes V on the street one night after coming out of another interview for an internship he definitely won't get, downtrodden and teary eyed after just. Utterly embarrassing himself throughout the whole interview. No, he doesn't have any references or credentials. But he's willing to work, and he's good with clothing and makeup, honest! Please don't send him away again- you'll call him back? You really swear you'll call him back…?

He leaves. And he knows they're not gonna call him back.

It's pretty important to me that B wasn't doing anything special or wrong to have what happens to him next happen. Sometimes violence just finds you. And follows you. Regardless if you deserve it or not.

B collapses under a streetlight crying really hard. He's embarrassed but there's nobody around, and he's been in the city for months now and he's still working at a dirty video rental store, no closer to his goal of working in showbusiness. He doesn't have any friends in the city, he's lonely, and he kind of wants to give up.

He's mid sobbing session when someone taps him on the shoulder. It's some guy with a handkerchief smiling down at him. Very friendly. And handsome. The guy sits with him for a while. Tells him not to give up on his dreams once B volunteers his whole life store like a. Naive Simpleton. To this perfect stranger.

This guy is really funny. Charming. He's a good listener, and he's got kind of an offbeat sense of humor that shocks a few giggles from B. B really hopes they can be friends, but the guy leaves before he can give B a name. (But he said they'd see each other again 😬 and they will.)

This guy is V. And he takes a shine to this. Crying farm boy he saw on a street corner. V loves the way B looks crying! Very photogenic. A face made for filming. But V has all the time in the world, and he likes to savor his meals. The thrill of the hunt and all! Yuck. So for nearly three years, V plays. Tag. With B. Idk what else to call it.

He leaves things at B's door. Gore in brown bags with a smiley face drawn on the stinking wet paper. Deranged letters shoved in his mailbox talking about how B is going to end up raped and choked and dead in a ditch near his house, so his siblings find him covered in blood and bodily fluid. A bouquet of flowers from a secret admirer, and if B reaches in to pull out the note B gets cut up by a bundle of razorblades hidden in-between the dethorned rose stems (how ironic! I'm sure V was laughing it up at that one. 🙄 You're so clever.)

And all the while, V and B are having other first meetings. Each time, with V wearing a different face. The face of a friend. A shoulder to cry on. The face of a stranger. Someone following him home, too close for comfort, enough to have B hyperventilating by the time he stumbles into his rundown apartment and slams the door shut, looking through the peephole to see someone's eye staring right back at him.

B is coming unglued. But he's still pretty when he cries, and they're about to have their last 'first' meeting.

He goes to the bar with a friend, someone he's known a long time. They're visiting the big city from out of town, and they wanna treat B to a few drinks. B is excited. It's been ages since he hung out with J, and he kind of has a major crush on the guy. J is a laid back guy, super relaxed, and he's exactly as B remembers him.

B's phone dings again. He's gotten these mysterious texts for years now, and if he ignores them, bad shit always happens. (Someone breaks into his apartment and soaks his sheets in fluids. Audience gets to pick the fluid. You're welcome. Things go missing, or. Sometimes a single stuffed animal is left on his pillow. Just to mix things up.)

So he goes into the bathroom, and asks for the hundredth, thousandth time, Why Are You Doing This To Me, and gets no response back. Which is odd. Usually they respond. They must be busy… but thn why send a text in the first place? Hmm.

B goes back to his table. J hands him back his drink, and B slams it back, before confiding in his friend about what's been going on. J comforts him, but B is suddenly slumping over. Drank too much, maybe.

B wakes up in a house he doesn't recognize, but J is there to reassure him. This is one of J's places. Having a wealthy family comes with perks. You're safe, B. And B is so glad to have such a good friend. Someone who takes care of him.

He can't help himself. He confesses, and J is flattered. Returns the feelings. They make love. How cute. Perfect end to a perfect scene.

V really enjoyed playing this part for him.

V drops the charade halfway through. B panics, because who wouldn't? Your new boyfriend just morphed into a stranger. You're getting assaulted by a monster. A doppelganger, a face stealer.

You thrash. You scream. You cry those tears V likes so much. Smile! You're on camera, btw. V finishes, choking B until he sees spots, mocking him, berating him. ("Do I look like J to you now? No, of course not. Oh well. Got anybody else you want me to be? Got a mother? A brother? A highschool bully? Or do you want a round with yourself? Aww. You look faint!") V does this for a living. He's a movie maker, and B is his new star.

So. Nice to meet you. Again.

#v/b #v/b lore #stabtxt #answered #and can you believe me when i say it only gets more fucked up and deranged from here.#anyway. go rb eye-of-yelough's ask game! its so fun and well written! your OCs deserve it!

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elpida · 1 year ago

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This was her first day in her official uniform. Eris Amorello, in a uniform.. there were people from her life before the world fell into chaos that'd never believe that she'd wear a uniform but when you were left with few options, you found a way to make it work. She walked with her head held high, her chin tilted up, her shoulders back. She had quite the reputation about her too, another one that'd tried to escape numerous times. Something on the outside was worth her fight and by god could the woman fight. It didn't matter that she was small, that she was dainty in stature, she found a way to make it work. She was fast, nimble and any sort of blade placed in her hand was deadly.

Not many people clocked that hidden blade tucked into the side of her boot, or the one small switchblade strapped to her forearm. The black tape she used blended well to the uniform. "What do you make of her Grimes? I've heard people say she'd a force to be reckoned with, yeah, if that force is a fly. She's tiny it's only gonna take one walker bigger than her n' she's done for." one recruit scoffed under their breath and in the same breath Eris' head snapped towards them, along with the slow turn of her body. "You've fucking done it now." another mumbled under their breath. It's true, Eris was small and on a casual day she acted like she'd never met Rick, that they didn't even share the knowledge of the secret night lessons they were both invited to.

"What was that recruit?" she even smiled. Hell this was a game to her. "Nothing we were talking about-" it took her all of two seconds. Two seconds to have a grown man, a mana good foot taller than her, double her stature, on his knees with tears in his eyes. One leg had moved forward to swipe his legs and buckle his knees so they hit hard into the concrete floor. One hand had reached forward and planted one hell of a punch before reaching and gripping the back of his hair to expose his neck to her, the other hand slipped that secret switchblade forward and pressed it against his jugular. Her foot placed between the mans legs, squeezing just enough that he was tense, that he was scared to move, hell scared to swallow in fear of moving his throat. "I'd like you to repeat it. Go on now recruit, nice and loud." she waited a few seconds and let the silence set in before she scoffed a huff of laughter at the man and pushed his stiff body back. He was gasing, a hand at his neck, ever the dramatic. "If you wish to talk about my capabilities again, I'd be happy to book out a training session and show you the numerous different ways I could have you crying like a little bitch, after all, you couldn't possibly be scared of a little fly like me could you recruit?" the apology spilled from the mans lips almost instantly and all Eris did, vicious and beautiful Eris, was laugh.

When she turned to Rick a strand of her deep auburn hair had fallen from it's neatly tucked and tied position. "Grimes?" there was the tiniest little hint, god the most slight tilt in the corner of her lips. "Don't tell me I need to show you what I'm made of too." she joked, and it was just that, a joke. In some way they had a mutual understanding, prisoners making the best of the bad, people that didn't want to lead, being led to that path, they were not sheep, they would not follow... but they would find their own way. Her knuckles were currently throbbing which explained why she kept her hand behind her back, both held together. "You were requested by the way." He wasn't, but they both knew how irritating the mess hall could be. "I'm going that way?" she offered with the gesture of her head. It was the first time she'd actually extended that kind of public kindness.. they both had to start looking like they had ties here, friends, something. A point she was about to explain to him because of everyone here, as much as she acted like she hated everyone, she didn't find him unbearable and a lot of the time his silence... was comforting to her. @wrathfulmercy !

#when i tell you i had muse #im sorry i wrote this so fast #I HAD TO GET IT OUT BBY I HAD TO THE BRAIN ROT #rick&eris #dont feel pressure to reply quickly or anything at all you take your time as ever but also any memes #anythinggg at all you know where i am <3 #closed

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despair-to-future-arcs · 3 months ago

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You not only lied to Nagi, your branch and the Future Foundation for what the Neo World Program was for, but you also lied to us.

We were told, in exchange for us making sure Despairs didn't kill us, our funding would ensure the Neo World Program would be able to the fix the world from the massive mental issues the Tragedy has caused.

Now admittely, we were quite hesistant to see it be used on the Remnants of Despair but it was proven that at the end of the day they weren't inheritely evil and were just driven into a corner by society and Junko was their only way to lash out.

But now we found out not only is the main purpose of the NWP was for the sake of someone who a) is abusing your good will. b) Unlike the Remnants, Warriors of Hope or anyone else has had no regret for anything they have done and c) caused this entire mess in the first place. And on top of that; you delayed the Neo World Program for the sake of someone who has long crossed the Moral Event Horizon?!

"But Sakoto was abused so its fine." No its not. The Remnants were abused and they committed acts of sin. The Warriors of Hope were abused and they committed acts of sin. Both parties have realised they themselves had parts to play and understand if they want to get better, they need to own up and confess their crimes. Sakoto has NEVER in her entire life taken responsbilty for her actions and just runs. And runs. And runs. And runs.

Now normally this would be enough for us Anons to call off and cancel our deal, but we won't. Why? Because we know something is coming which is gonna expose this to the forthfront and REALLLY make you regret delaying it for so long for the sake of someone who never asked.

Also Miaya you failed the first major lesson of being a therapist; never treat friends or family members. Why? Because there will be bias. And this is a capital example, you see Sakoto as your abused little cousin who needs help and cannot see that she has become as monsterious as her mother once was. Suddenly her treatment of her class makes sense.

She was doing to them, what her mother did to her. Cycle of abuse repeats itself.

I...I didn't realize she...I...

I'm truly sorry about this, I just...I... I had no idea she did this to anyone, dear god...

Miaya... I know that you want to save Satoko and yes, I do understand that she was abuse severely but the fact she did all this; I can't forgive someone who does this and wants to run away, that is no excuse for what she did and I don't want to work with someone that makes up excuses like this...

I get it, you want to save your family and sure, maybe she did support your interest in therapy when you started but there's something your forgetting; you can't become a therapist for your friends or family, remember?

This is why I had avoided being Hajime Hinata's therapist; I know it would be nothing but bias sessions and your feelings might get in the way, which is what your doing right now.

I know you aren't a bad person and you want to help people but you need to understand that you can't save everyone, even if your the first Ultimate Therapist and want to do everything you can to help them, there's just some people that won't accept the help and you can't force it.

I know it's a lot to take in, but you need to understand where you went wrong and I feel that you need to get your priorities in check, so please... just try to help people that actually need it, not someone that will just run; if you can't accept that then you really shouldn't be apart of this project and I'm sure you don't want that, do you?

I understand… thank you, just give me time to think about it…

Right, just... keep in mind what I say, so please... just listen and realize where you went wrong...that's all...

*Nagi walks away...*

We... better get going as well, let's go Makoto.

Right...

*the 2 walk out of the room, leaving Miaya by herself, crying...*

#dr #danganronpa #dtfa #despair to future arc #ds:rw #despair side: re write #ds ep 11 #udg #danganronpa another episode: ultra despair girls #dr3 #danganronpa 3 #dr:thh #danganronpa:trigger happy havoc #miaya gekkogahara #nagi nanami #makoto naegi #komaru naegi #anonymous #tired writer in progress

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void-star · 1 year ago

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Damian/Mark from The Bright Sessions! I'm curious because I ship both Joan and Mark with Damian, there's such flavor in both relationships, the power dynamics!!!

I'm absolutely loving being the Damiark bitch, ahaha. I answered another ask for it but I'm gonna talk about it again because it's my life LOL

But first of all you have no idea how much I laughed cause I also have a love for the idea of Mark being in an uncomfortable situation where he has to see Sam, his ex-gf, get with his sister. Now I'm imagining what if he has some other extra fucked up complicated ex swap with his sister? LMAO

1. I latched onto both of their characters pretty hard, and I thought they had some of the best scenes together because they really fucking had it out with each other. But it was complicated, right?

2. Top moments for me is the way Damien asks if the AM ever got invasive with Mark, the entire exchange of "please dont leave. I dont feel right. Please dont leave" and "god... dont worry, I'm not gonna leave you," and the way they sound like they're both crying when Mark tells Damien to leave town.

3. Struggling with this one cause I don't really know what many popular opinions are. I'm in my little corner with my little Damien stans.

So idk if this counts, but Damien is def a sub in almost all circumstances to me. That boy wants to relinquish control and come out okay on the other end. Craves it. He wants to be chosen and used and be done unto, and for it to not decimate or destroy him.

And, conversely, I think Mark is very much looking for control... and Damien is actually an easy and available person for him to do that to, which is why he does it even in canon. It feels justified.

#ask game #damiark #damien gorham

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becauseplot · 1 year ago

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ok so i couldn't watch ordem paranormal quarentena live yesterday but im rotating it in my head at supersonic speeds. here have the reactions and notes i was taking while watching the VODs. i figured i'd just make it all one post since i'm super late to the party and i didn't rly feel like "lag"-blogging. (i am. so tired rn lmao)

Quackity will find a way to play the “asshole” character in every universe.

Luis: “My name is Luis Miguel….Kennedy :))” Cellbit, breaking character, pinching the bridge of his nose: “…Did you put ‘Kennedy’ in your name and you didn’t tell me?” (Honestly one of my favorite parts of the whole session HIS FACE)

Lucie IMMEDIATELY starting beef with the ten year old (good for her)

Wait did that doctor try to do a Schrödinger's cat demonstration with the cardboard box and poisoned tuna??? Aw that would've been so cool. I mean not for the cat but for me, personally. I would've found it cool. Man :(

Jeffery pulling a second box of pizza out of the aether to put over the smoke grenade. Loony toons ass motherfuckers.

Jeffery panic throwing the keys at Luis (Honestly same dude)

WALLACE!!

Holy FUCK the reveal of the blood covered corridor?? THE WAY CELLBIT INTRODUCED THE MONSTER?? Genuinely had me tensing up hooooo it was so good!! (Cellbit: “You can’t explain why…but you don’t want to look at what’s coming around the corner.” Me, with a hand over the screen: “Oh bestie you have no idea 😀”)

THE CHASE SEQUENCE RASHASHSHSRAAHAHHH <-me shaking it around in my mouth like a chew toy

Also all the sounds Cellbit makes? The acting of showing how the infecteds' bodies move?? He's so into it AUGHH he's such a good storyteller I'm going nuts.

Luis: “OMA CULERO BOOOOM!” *fucking decks the monster* (THIS PART HAD ME ROLLING OH MY GOD ROIER)

Baghera’s playstyle!! She always tries to go for the non obvious answer or a third option instead of whatever Cellbit throws at them. (Checking the metal pannel with the wires, trying to put out the boiler fire, going to check Luis’ wounds.) I bet it has something to do with the fact that she’s played rpg before, and MAN I love it.

Cellbit: “You reach behind you and you realize you don’t have your backpack.” Diego: “No, no, mi vida!!… Ohhh we’re all gonna die 0(-(“

Cellbit: “So Jeffery what’re you doing?” Jeffery: “Houghhhggh I’m throwin up, man.”

Benito isn’t an actual doctor?? The fuck lmao???

Benito: *cuts off Michael’s arm* “Ohhhhh you fucking dumbass I’m gonna keep this as a memory.” BENITO???????

Jeffery constantly throwing things at the wall when he’s upset fhdjkdkd

Lucie climbing the FUCKING walls. YEAHH!! GET ON TOP OF THAT COMPUTER GO GO GO!!

Ohhhhhhh the killing the animal who's suffering question. Luis with the gun. And the suffering doctor.. And he said he'd end the animal's suffering. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Update: Benito also has beef with the same ten year old

They are playing hot potato with an infected fetus. They threw it at the little girl. Loony toons ass motherfuckers. (Again.)

These dumbasses are SO awful with kids lmao

Lucie the MVP LETSGO she's so smart I love her (a fucking twenty NINE dude holy SHIT she is carrying she is the moment she has the only functioning braincell in this entire facility)

RAHFDHGGAGHSARHGAH CHASE SEQUENCE PART TWO!!!

Character development ! Benito is willing to throw his phone :D (he doesn't though)

Luis I love you but I think you killed Lucie. A for effort though.

NEVERMIND Diego is the best he's helping Lucie I love him smmm

JEFFERY NOOOO YOU CANT DIE NOOOOOOOO

YEAHHHHH DIEGO LETSGOOOO

MICHAEL????????? MICHAEL WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU SAYING RIGHT NOW?????????????

WHAT THE FUCK THEYRE GOIGN RTO BRAZILTHEYRHGOIENG TO BRASIXIZNGL WHATHHTHAHHHHTAWHAT

Wait what the fuck happened to Amy is she just like. Still sitting there. In the energy room. Crying. Oh my god they're so bad with kids.

#ordem paranormal quarentena #dont mind me im just rambling #i would offer more coherent thoughts about this unfortunately i have work to do #also i got like 4 hours of sleep. it's fine. worth it.#hopefully i actually get to watch it live next weekend but we'll see about that

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annaphoenix1994 · 2 years ago

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Ch.107 - Mr. and Mrs. Simon Riley - Part 3

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

"Oh, my God!" Soap and Gaz shouted in unison while Price smiled widely at Kiera, each carrying a genuine smile as they were called for the groomsmen's "first look."

"I don't know what I can say that won't get me in trouble," Soap snickered. "So I'll just keep it simple and say you look beautiful, K."

"Thank you, Johnny." Kiera blushed, accepting his embrace before Gaz followed suit, whispering a 'congratulations' into her ear before admitting that Simon was a lucky and deserving man.

Price waited for his turn, his cheeks rising into a warm and genuine smile before he pulled her softly into his arms. "I'm so proud of you two, love," He whispered.

"Thank you, John," She sniffled into his shoulder, feeling him pull back to look at her before his thumb swiped away a tear that settled on her chin. "I'm so nervous."

He chuckled at her, "I can assure you: Simon is more nervous than you. The poor bloke has been tapping his foot impatiently on the floor so hard that I'm sure there's a hole there when he leaves."

"I don't doubt it," She giggled. "I'm so nervous but so ready to get this over with. Simon still won't tell me what he has planned for our honeymoon."

Soap snickered, "We all know what he's got planned."

"Sergeant, shut it." Price warned with a glare as Kiera and Gaz giggled.

"Here we go..." She breathed a sigh.

"Take a breath, love," Price assured her. "There may be a lot of people, but once you two see each other, I'm sure you'll feel like it's just the pair of you up there."

Kristen, Kiera's maid of honor and best friend, helped Eva adjust Kiera's veil and make last-minute adjustments before it was time for the bridesmaids and groomsmen to walk down the aisle.

"Best breathe before ye pass out, Simon." Teeter poked in a whisper as she noticed Simon's nervous stance. He gonna cry... He gonna cry, she mused, especially when he shot her a glare at her words.

"You're not helping!" Soap mouthed to her, grasping his wrist with his opposite hand as he, Simon, Price, and Gaz stood in the same position, except Simon had nervously pressed his ring finger and thumb harshly together out of anxiousness - a nervous tick he had always done.

After the music that had guided the groomsmen and bridesmaids down the aisle, a brief moment of silence fell before the song played - the song that was sentimental between Simon and Kiera.

Except it was the instrumental version of "Always Remember Us This Way."

"That he does," She smiled. "It's so hard for me to believe that he's mine."

"Ladies and gentlemen," The priest began to say to the crowd. "We are gathered here today to witness the union of the bride and the groom. Who gives this woman to be married to this man?"

"I love you too, momma."

Simon smiled as he held out his hand, watching Kiera grasp his as he helped her stand in front of him.

"Good evening everyone, as the priest who has the honor to conduct this sacred ceremony, it is my pleasure to welcome you all to witness the union of Kiera Dutton and Simon Riley. Marriage is a sacred bond, a commitment between two people to love and cherish one another, through good times and bad, in sickness and in health, as long as they both shall live. Kiera and Simon, you have made a commitment to love and honor each other, and to support each other in your journey through life," The priest began. "May the love you share today continue to grow and flourish, and may the Lord bless your union with joy, peace and happiness. May you always find comfort in each other’s arms, and may your home be filled with love, laughter and peace. I ask that you always remember that the love you share is a reflection of the love God has for each and every one of us. And I pray that you will always be blessed with the love and guidance of our Lord. It is understood that the bride and groom have already exchanged vows within the privacy of one another and before I ask the couple to place their rings, I would like to bless this couple with a prayer. Please, bow your heads,"