#she should get to be a bit spiteful tbh

[dreamsy990]

[iamnmbr3]

why'd draco even tell i don't think potter liked your valentine much to ginny?what is a non drarry reason(we know there is just no lmao)

Supposedly he's just being spiteful. But like. Why does he even know that Ginny sent it? Why does he know that she has a crush on Harry? Not only does he know, but he seems really bothered by it. He picks up immediately on her feelings - as early as the Flourish and Blotts scene and teases her for it. And in this scene he makes sure that Harry knows that she was the one who sent the disastrous valentine that embarrassed him and which he didn't like.And he taunts Ginny over the fact that her feelings aren't returned.

Seems a bit like jealousy... And there's no indication that Draco is attracted to Ginny, so it's not that he's jealous that Harry has her attention. Seems more like maybe he's a bit possessive of Harry. Same with his severe dislike of Collin Creevey tbh.

And yeah sure Draco definitely is irritated that Harry gets all this attention when he feels like as a Malfoy that should be his due. But Draco isn't THAT jealous of Harry's fame. He knows Harry hates it and is perfectly willing to draw attention to Harry (like the signed photos thing) to needle him. Pus while Draco isn't famous like Harry is, until his family's downfall he certainly gets lots of validation and attention - within his own House and even in the real world. I mean, at the Quidditch Cup no other student is casually sitting in the Ministers' Box. And Crabbe and Goyle don't actually like him but are totally devoted lackeys till his fortunes change. So I don't think envy of Harry fully explains Draco's behavior here.

So this jealousy and spite seems like something different from just being jealous of Harry. Seems more like Draco has some unacknowledged feelings of his own.

Actually, this kinda mirrors how Harry didn't pay much attention to Pansy till he saw her stroking Draco's hair and looking like she wants to hold his hand and then suddenly he focuses much more on her and becomes incredibly spiteful towards her in his internal narration.

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

Princess

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Smut (18+), spanking, fingering, PinV, choking, brat taming, slight bit of name calling (slightly dubious to have sex with someone after rescuing them from a kidnapping but we'll ignore that)

Summary: Reader is the daughter of a prolific genral who's been kidnapped while she was trying to party it up with her friends. Ghost and Soap are recruited to rescue her, and soon find out that reader's attitude might be more of a challenge than the gang they're trying to rescue her from.

(No use of y/n)

A/N: I can't get Ghost out of my head and tbh I kinda feel like he'd be so good at dealing with your bratty nonsense if he had to.

- 👑-

You were sure you were going to die. 

Not because your family didn’t have the money, not because there weren’t enough resources  to save you, or even because of your own natural pessimistic tendencies. No. You were sure you were going to die because your father had made it abundantly clear long ago that you didn’t matter to him. 

You weren’t a man. You couldn't carry his title on and you’d grown up learning that that was mostly all he cared for. His legacy. It was one of the few things that cold man spoke of fondly, always lighting up at the mention of your brothers but never you. And as a result you’d grown up living for even the smallest chance at spiting him for it. You partied and drank and slept around with boys that made even your friends curl their lips at you sometimes. 

So, you were pretty sure that once your kidnappers realised that, that could only mean one thing. One of those big guns they were carrying was going to end up pointed right in your face then…bang. 

It was enough to leave you disoriented, you weren't taking in much. Not that there was much to take note of. Your eyes were shoddily covered over with a scrap of harsh, scratchy cloth and you could only see little slivers of things here and there. Your hands were duct taped to the arms of an office chair and your mouth was similarly covered so as to prevent anymore screams and curses.

You watched sets of boots as they echoed around the frigid room, and saw gun barrels and machetes, men roving across a scuffed up concrete floor. You didn’t catch anything that made you want to see more. Especially when you heard the taunts they slung at you in their thick accents.

“Don’t worry precious, I’m sure a spoiled little rich girl like you will get a good ransom, you’ll be home soon.”

“Bet you’re used to guys with big guns like this, daddy’s men must love you.”

“She’s a cute little thing, we should have some fun with her before we send her back.”

“I’ve heard she likes to have lots of fun, bet we’d slip right into her, fucking american girls.”

If the blindfold came off then that would only mean one thing. They were going to make good on the salacious threats they were now casually slinging your way. The fantasies they were now trading back and forth as they returned to speaking their own language. That was a small mercy at least. Not having to hear about how the last few moments of your life would go. 

You could feel your body shaking like an addict in withdrawal and your poor heart was leaping around in your chest like a caught frog. It didn’t help that you were riling yourself up either, imagining what the newspapers would say. Flashing up in your mind like something out of an old batman episode with a blaring brass section accompanying them.

 Daughter of a notable general killed in shock kidnapping

Holiday in Cancun turned nightmare as General’s daughter taken in the night

You couldn't even be sure if you were still in Mexico. For all you knew you were in all those other countries that you’d been too busy crafting a reputation to learn about in school. What were they again? Guatemala, Cuba? You were sure those were somewhere close by. Funny the things the mind distracts itself with when you’re stuck tightly in a chair surrounded by leering wolves. 

If only you hadn’t been drawn in by that tattooed man with the big arms. If only you’d been a good girl and enjoyed your holiday and stuck close to your friends instead of going out on the hunt for attention from bad men covered in tattoos and cologne that smelt like bad decisions. You could practically hear your father’s growly voice echoing through your mind. 

Stupid little girl. 

He’d been saying that for as long as you had memories of him. He’d be satisfied now, you lamented. You’d proved him right in the end, he’d always said your lifestyle would catch up with you and you’d be wishing that you’d just behaved for once sooner or later.  

At the very least, you figured, you wouldn’t have to hear him say I told you so. 

- 👑-

You weren't sure how much time had passed. It could’ve been a few minutes, or it could’ve been hours, but as your breathing grew more ragged behind the tape you knew you were experiencing the last few precious moments you had left. 

The men were sounding more and more pissed off as they rattled off curses to each other, filling the room with sharp hisses. They weren’t getting the results they wanted. They’d even removed the tape at some point and had you screaming out for a video, but apparently that wasn’t getting them anywhere either. They got tired with your cries and slapped an even thicker strip back in place.

You were starting to cry, feeling the stiff cloth go damp against your skin and irritating it further. It was so thick and itchy over your eyes, you wanted nothing more than to pull it off. You needed to see, needed to breathe. You were panicking. You needed out, you needed air, you needed to feel safe again. 

What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck?

You were chanting it in your mind, it rang through your head like a death toll. It seemed like those would be your last thoughts. You’d die panicking and snotty and covered in dried salty tears that mixed into a sludge with your thick mascara.

What the fuck? What the fuck? What the-

Thiew.

Crack.

Thud.

Every muscle in your body froze as you heard an alien sound zip through the room. Then suddenly everything erupted.

The men’s shouts turned into screams and barked orders and suddenly you were being wheeled around in your chair in the dark like a shopping cart. You were whizzed past men that were running and crouching into your limited vision, aiming their guns and returning fire as more bullets wailed into the room. And finally you found yourself slamming into a corner somewhere, banging your knees against a rough drywall. 

You screamed behind your gag and listened out as more men hit the ground and the guns grew into a cacophony of bangs. Death’s orchestra played for a solid few minutes, ringing in your ears and distorting the sound of your thrumming heartbeat as it crawled up through your throat and into your head.

You were sure you were going to die. 

The battle raged on for a few moments more until suddenly the men’s shouts silenced and the bullets grew sparse. All you could hear was the echoes of gunfire and shrill ringing from your unprotected ears. 

What was that?

You swore you could hear voices coming toward you.

“It’s alright, lass.”

You jumped as you felt someone touch your shoulder and cursed behind the tape in your mouth as the unidentified man tried to soothe you. It wasn’t until he pulled your blindfold down and you were greeted with his bruised face and ruffled mohawk that you calmed down, focusing your gaze on his icy pale eyes. He wasn’t one of the men who took you.

“I’m gonna take this tape off, ye good wi’ that?”

You frowned at the man, unsure if he was speaking english. You weren’t used to that accent, what was that accent? Scottish? Irish? 

You only had a few seconds to look up at him blankly before he gave up on getting a response and ripped the tape from your mouth, drawing out a scream with it.

“You motherfucker!” you shrieked, feeling a layer of skin peel from your face.

“Easy! It’s ok! What's the sayin’ agian? Best to rip it off like a band-aid, yeah?” he chuckled.

“Not when it’s fucking duct tape over my face, you- you stupid- oh, oh no, my god, oh my god look out!”

You screamed as you caught a giant man emerging through the shadows and through the doorway into the dingy room you’d been wheeled into. A skull mask obscured his face and a massive gun was braced in his hands, he looked as if he could take on an entire army by himself. He was fuck off sized and ready to kill. 

Your rescuer whipped around and raised his gun at your shout, body bracing and ready to defend you. Though, as he faced the hulking behemoth behind him he relaxed and lowered his gun again, cursing you through gritted teeth. Though, he turned back around to you with a smirk.

“He might be a scary lookin’ bastard, but that ones on our side,” he explained, slinging his gun behind him and getting to work on the tape on your wrists. “Sit tight and I’ll get you out of this in a sec, ok?”

“Is she hurt?” the masked man asked, flicking his dark gaze over your slumped body.

“Nah, doesn’t look like it,” the first man replied.

“She is scarred for life actually,” you huffed out, clutching your one freed arm to your chest. “What the fuck happened? Who the fuck are you two?”

“Settle down, princess. For now we need to get you out of here and back to your father, quickly and quietly, yeah?”

His accent was different from the other man’s, though to you it was just as difficult to make out through that thick gravely timbre. That one was definitely english, you thought, it sounded like ones from TV shows you’d watched when you were younger. It made you wonder what the hell the two brits were doing rescuing you when your dad was an American general. 

Did he find them on Craigslist or something?

Typical of him to find a couple of brutish thugs to come fetch you rather than calling on one of the teams that he worked with, you thought sourly. 

Though, as both your arms were free and you stepped onto wobbly feet you grew to appreciate his choice in rescuers more as they both towered above you. Even if they weren’t American they clearly knew their way around a fight.

“We’re gonna need you to follow us and do exactly as we say, ok? There’s still a few men lurkin’ about and if you want to get back to your family in one piece, we’ll need to avoid them,” the first man said, putting his hand on your tensed shoulder.

“You haven’t even gotten them all?” you hissed, escaping from his hold and backing against the cracking wall behind you.

The room was unfinished, crumbling from bullet holes and exposure to bad weather from the open windows. It looked like something straight out of a movie set, Soderbergh eat your heart out.

“We’ve gotten most of them,” the Scottish/Irish man shrugged, reaching around to secure his gun in his arms once again. “Some probably ran off durin’ the fight, but we can’t assume they aren’t hiding somewhere waitin’ for us.”

“Just be a good girl and do as you’re told, ok princess?” the other man growled, turning away from you and walking back out of the room. 

Your mouth dropped open and just as you were about to fire off another retort, it died in your mouth when you heard a shot ring out from the hallway. 

“All good, LT?” the first man called out, ushering you behind him. 

“Solid, Soap,” the other man replied.

Soap?

That’s just great, you thought, you were stuck with a man named soap and his big ape of a friend wearing a spirit halloween special across his face. You could practically feel your chances of survival drop through the ground and into hell. You could feel the hot flames licking at your feet already, biting at your toes. Or perhaps that was the fact you’d been stuck in heels for an inappropriate length of time. Who knew?

“Alright, lets get movin’. Remember to stay close and stay quiet. We don’t know where these guys are hiding,” Soap reminded you. “Stick to my back and we won't let anythin’ happen to you, alright?”

You were out of sass for the time being. You could only nod your reply as you followed his orders, too afraid of him leaving you behind as he started advancing out of the room.

You might have felt annoyed at the fact they were treating you like a stupid little girl, but you were too wrapped up in the adrenaline of the situation to object anymore. You’d heard the gunfire, could still hear the echoes of it pelting through your ears. You knew you couldn't afford not to listen to the two incredibly patronising soldiers before you. 

“Try to keep your eyes up, lass,” Soap whispered, gazing back at you briefly before heading through the doorway. 

“Why do I have t- oh fuck!”

You could’ve thrown up as your eyes connected with the bloody corpses that littered the hallway like flies on a roll of catcher paper. There were so many of them. You could feel the bile fighting its way up your gullet as you stopped against the wall and closed your hazy eyes. Bodies. Actual dead bodies. 

You’d never seen one before. Yet here you were surrounded by them, queen bee of a dead hive. It was too much. Staying up felt like fighting gravity and you were reduced to a pile on the floor in no time, huddled on a relatively blood free patch and stuck still against the rough chalky grey wall to your side.

“Ghost, we’ve got a problem,” Soap muttered, staring down at you with a worried look. 

There were a few seconds of blessed silence where you closed your eyes and everything was ok for a second. You weren’t in a shithole crack den building in god knows where and instead you were back at the hotel, getting ready to go to bed with your girlfriends. Yes. You were going to put on pyjamas and take some painkillers and peace the fuck out till noon the day after.

“Fuckin hell.”

The growl brought you out of your daydream and soon you were looking up at the cold crocodilian eyes of the now named Ghost. Had he expected you to do better in the hallway of a thousand corpses? 

“Alright, princess, up you get.”

You whimpered and expected him to offer you his hand to get you to your feet again, but you were taken by surprise when he leaned over you and enveloped you in his huge arms. You weren’t sure what the hell he was doing at first, but all became clear as you were hoisted over his shoulder and sprawling down his back like a chef’s tea towel. 

“What the hell, dude! Put me down,” you growled out, thumping your fists against his thick layer of tactical gear. 

“Quiet down, sweetheart. It’s not like you’re much use in those heels anyway,” he growled out, tugging on one of your silvery strappy shoes for emphasis. 

“You can’t just pick me up like a sack of fucking potatoes!” you protested, continuing to feebly fail to fight your way out of his grasp.

“Apparently I fuckin’ can,” he chuckled, rumbling in that horrible patronising voice of his. “Now…Settle. Down.”

And with that he started moving again, taking you past the tour of bodies that you’d folded at moments before, stepping through them like you might do through a botanical garden. The men were poked full of bullet holes and some even had knives jutting out of their skulls, but it didn’t seem to phase your rescuers. They were in their element. You were decidedly not. 

You felt like you were going to be sick and wondered briefly what the terrifying man would say if you were to throw up on him. Would he drop you as revenge? You quivered in his arms as he moved through the halls, following his partner faithfully in the shadows, only seeing by the light of the moon in some sections of the house. 

Not soon enough, after being thoroughly traumatised for two lifetimes, you emerged out of the house you were in. Only hearing two more men be taken out before you were free to breathe fresh air again. You cleared out the disgusting smell of coppery blood and gulped in huge breathfuls of clear night air.

Air. Moonlight. Stars. You were in a barren front garden in the middle of nowhere. You could see out for miles toward that inky black sky on the horizon. 

It wasn’t like something out of a nightmare anymore, this was real. And it was a new kind of scary. It was night and it was cold and your shivering renewed again as the giant placed you back down on your feet and let you stand on your own. 

Why was it so fucking cold? 

“You see anyone else?” Ghost asked his partner, sticking faithfully by your side.

“Negative. Think we’re good to move out, LT,” Soap said, giving his surroundings one last careful scan.

“Thank fuckin’ god. Might even get back to the safehouse before mornin’ at this rate.”

Safehouse?

What?

“Um, what do you mean safehouse?” you prodded, feeling the cold start sinking into your clattering teeth.

“It’s a house that’s safe,” ghost ‘helpfully’ provided. 

“I fucking know that,” you said through gritted teeth, “what I mean is, why the fuck are we going to a safehouse? I need to go home. I need to get to an airport or something or like- like you should be calling me a helicopter or something! Why would we go to some safehouse and stay here any longer?”

“Your dad ordered us to take you there once we had you secured,” Soap said, staring over at you with a calculating gaze. “Now are you going to come get in the car yourself or does Ghost need to pick you up again?”

Fuck you.

You didn’t give either of them the satisfaction of answering. 

- 👑-

“He’s doing this to punish me isn’t he? It’s fucking typical you know! Only he would pull this shit, only my dad would find out I got kidnapped and send in two fucking random Englishmen and not even want to get me home-“

“Whoa! Watch it!” Soap shouted, interrupting you mid rant. “You can call me a lot of things, but don’t fuckin’ call me English, sweetheart.”

“English, Scottish, Irish- whatever the fuck you are! Point is he should be here! He shouldn’t be letting me stew in some random safe house with you two…two- two strangers,” you whined, throwing your arms up in the air. “For all he knows you could both be serial rapists!” 

“We’re two strangers that just saved your life, princess,” Ghost grumbled from the front seat. “And if your dad is punishing you, then I think I’m beginning to see why.”

Your mouth dropped like a lead weight and you stared daggers into the mirror, catching Ghost’s cold eyes in the reflection. He was still wearing the mask.

You were driving on country road that stretched almost  limitlessly into the horizon but for some reason he was still in disguise. Not that you cared to see his face! No, if anything, you hoped you’d be out of their company much sooner rather than later for him to reveal himself. Though, that wasn’t going to happen it seemed, so you resolved to make that everyone’s problem. Share the burden of being abandoned to Mexico. 

“In case you haven’t realised; I’m not exactly accustomed to dead bodies and I’ve just come from the midnight showing of night of the living fucking dead here! I should be getting wheeled into a therapists office right now, not getting bundled up into another strange house, spending the night with Micheal Myers and groundskeeper fucking Willie,” you growled out, penetrating your gaze into Ghosts very soul, hoping he’d feel a shred of pity for you. 

However, you weren’t doing a very good job of that. Instead of knocking sense into the big brute you only made him narrow his eyes at you. And to add even further insult, Soap choked back a laugh. Though, he composed himself quickly after casting a glance at the leuitenant and focused his eyes back on the road. 

“You’ve got a funny way of sayin’ thank you, princess.”

And that was the last thing he said to you before ignoring you completely. No matter how much you moaned and groused and demanded to be taken back home, neither of the men would answer your cries. Typical men! 

They left you to marinade in your own self pity - in a dish that was endlessly deep. Afterall, how could your father not appreciate how stressful your ordeal was? Sure, you both had your differences, but you’d have thought that even he would put his malice for you aside on account of an actual real life kidnapping! 

After a few more miles of barren road you found yourselves coming to a small village, and started to slowly roll toward a modest concrete house on the outskirts.

It was two floors high and painted a sandy cream colour, with a small sheltered space to park the car and protect it from the elements. It seemed as if it might just fit you and Soap through its tiny door, the ceilings didn’t look that high. And it was the thought of Ghost being stuck in its old wooden frame that made you finally crack a small smile for the first time since you’d been taken. 

“Any complaints about the exterior before we step in, sweetheart, or would you like to save your scathing words for when you’re inside?” Soap teased as he opened the car door for you. 

“Very funny,” you huffed, smile disappearing you made sure to knock into the door as you stepped out. “Maybe you can go make fun of some terrorist victims next.”

Soap raised his brows, but didn’t bother to dignify you with a reply. He closed the door behind you instead and walked up to house and unlocked it for you, ushering you inside. Not that there was much to walk into. 

There was some basic furniture, a ratty old couch, a table and chairs, a kitchen that hardly seemed stocked and an old orange cloth rug that looked like it had seen better days. The place smelt like old newspapers for some reason, and all in all, it didn’t inspire much hope in you for the rest of the house. And just as you caught yourself thinking that, you knew you’d already proved Soap right. You had many, many, many complaints. 

“Well, I drove. So I bagsy first shower,” Soap announced, trailing off toward the creaky wooden stairs at the end of the hall. “Try not to cause world war three while I’m gone.”

You balked as you felt Ghost brush past you, successfully getting through the door. Who had Soap directed that last order at? Jeuss. You were the kidnapping victim and somehow you didn’t qualify for washing up first? What was this?

Chivalry was truly dead. Though, it wasn’t like they’d rode up in white horses when they’d come to get you, no they emerged through a cloud of bullets and snatched you out of the house like a drug bust they could trade in for on the sly. 

“And what am I supposed to do now, hm?” You said, turning to the man now shedding his gear like a second skin onto the couch. 

He didn’t give you a response though, instead he just finished off pulling the various packs and armaments off of himself until he was left standing in his uniform and mask. He looked a few pounds lighter, but he was still massive compared to you. The equipment didn’t bulk him out quite as much as you’d suspected. 

“Is there a phone I can use?” You finally asked, exasperated with the silence. 

“No.”

He grunted as he took a seat on the couch and rolled up his sleeves, exposing his thick tattooed forearms. You couldn’t help but feel that that was some kind of threat. Though, your suspicions were eased as he shuffled around and crossed his arms around his head, lying down and closing his eyes. 

“So, what? We’re just waiting to see when my dad magically shows up?” You needled.

“You asked If there was a phone that you could use,” he reminded, glancing over at you with slitted eyes. “Why don’t you go get some rest princess, there’s rooms upstairs that you can whine in in peace.”

What!

You clenched your fists at your sides and growled out in frustration. How was it that you were stuck with one of the most insensitive men in the world right after you got kidnapped? In fact it felt like you were being held hostage all over again.

Well you weren’t going to sit there and take it this time!

Before you could think about how bad an idea it was, you marched straight over to the sofa and started digging through Ghosts things. You crouched and moved aside all the smaller pouches and sharp pointy things trying to find anything that might resemble a phone. Though you didn’t get much of an opportunity to look, you were swiftly dragged up to your feet by the masked man and knocked away from his stash. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He barked, not sparing a single decibel from piercing your already abused ears. 

“I need to use a phone! I need to call someone!” You screamed back. “I need to tell people I’m alright. My friends must be worried sick and you’re treating me worse than a prisoner! E-Even prisoners get their phone calls!”

You tried desperately to fight against his hold, and screeched and hit against him like a banshee. However the man was solid, his hands were digging into your skin like a bear trap. And even as you tried to scratch at him, it didn’t deter him any. He just held you against him, making you smell the sweat off of him, the bullets, the smoke, you breathed him in as he pinned your hands flush to your body and screamed out as it became too much.

“In case you’ve forgotten, princess, we’re hiding out in a safe house right now because you’ve just been bloody kidnapped! You can’t call anyone because we need to keep the line clear and wait for word from back home. This isn’t fucking vacation, sweetheart, this is a fucking mission,” Ghost roared. 

You froze at his words. Your body felt like it had been hit by lightning and all of a sudden you could feel the storm in you shifting. All of the adrenaline was draining from you and just like that, you went from fighting like a rabid dog to blubbering like a baby. You broke down in his arms and felt the tears flowing freely back down your cheeks and fell back against him defeated. 

“Oh Jesus,” Ghost muttered to himself. 

Of course you hadn’t forgotten you’d been kidnapped. You were just dealing with it all in the only way you could. it just so happened, that when you fell back on instinct to get you through hard times it would result in you being, well as your dad put it, a massive pain in the ass. You were sure that Ghost would say the same. 

You didn’t even try to compose yourself, you were too upset to think. 

So, as Ghost came to that conclusion too, he decided to take matters into his own hands and picked you up again. Though, instead of putting you over his shoulder this time, he held you tightly against his chest and carried you off into one of the side rooms further into the house. 

The floor protested with every step the big man took and even over your shaky sobs, you could hear the wood below groaning like a zombie. He checked in the first door, and then the second on the wall to the right, coming to a stop when he found what he was looking for. Through blurry eyes you could see that you were in a small bathroom. A messily tiled room that contained an old wooden cabinet, a sink and a toilet. 

Ghost sat you down on the closed toilet seat and pulled some tissue from the roll, pressing it into your limp hands. You looked down at it like it was alien for a second, not sure what to do until you met Ghosts unwavering gaze. You needed to dry your eyes and get control of yourself. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, princess,” he sighed, turning and reaching into the cabinet. 

You gulped down a fat sob that had been threatening to come and sniffled softly instead. As much as you begrudged him, you knew Ghost’s logic was sound. You needed to get a hold of yourself and stop crying in front of him. He was hardly the sympathetic audience for it.

In fact it almost made you laugh when he turned back again and his skull mask caught the light. The hard plastic only served to remind you that he wasn’t going to sit and rub your back and make you feel better about it all. It was like he said, this was a mission for him, and his only concern was getting you out of Mexico alive. 

“There you go, deep breaths,” he said in a hushed voice, putting his hand on your shoulder for a second. 

The warm contact was comforting for a fleeting moment, his hand was gentle yet firm on you before he took it away. He’d fetched a cloth from the cabinet and stepped over to the sink, running it under the water and stepping back to your side. You’d expected him to hand it to you just like he had done with the toilet paper, but instead he took you by surprise and crouched at your level, stepping down from his massive height. 

He smoothed the cloth over your cheeks and down your tear tracks, softly clearing up your sensitive skin. When he’d brought the cloth away and refolded it, you’d half expected it to be a muddied black from your makeup but there were only traces of grey. You’d cried most of your makeup off already. Then, after a few more goes at letting him clear up your face you almost jumped out of your skin when a piercing ring sounded out from the living room.

“Stay here,” the soldier softly ordered, handing you the stained cloth. 

Ghost ducked out of the room, and you lamely held the cloth in your hand, listening out to what he was doing. He silenced the ring, presumably answering the phone he’d secreted away, and for a second all there was was fuzzy silence and the low ringing that hadn’t left your ears. 

“Mhmm,” Ghost grunted, his rumble cutting clear through your tinnitus. “Yeah we’re clear I reckon. Didn’t pass anyone on the way in…no one awake, no curtains twitching…your daughter is-…mhmm…yeah…ok. Well just so you know, your daughter is…fine by the way.”

The gruff man said the last part quietly, and it was that that clued you into the fact your dad probably hung up before he could catch it. He didn’t care how you were, only cared that you hadn’t been killed by a foreign gang. That probably wouldn’t have done his image any favours, you thought to yourself. What man wasn’t able to protect his family? A high ranking general at that. All that mattered was that you were safe and he didn’t have a PR crisis on his hands. How you were doing was none of his concern.

You gulped thickly when Ghost reentered the room and did your best to put on a brave face. He didn’t say anything. He flicked his eyes over your grave expression and took the cloth back from your hands, wetting it under the tap again and handing it back to you. 

“Those must be killing you,” he murmured, gesturing to your feet. 

You startled when he spoke again, not used to having a conversation with someone who’s lips were hidden behind a skull facade. It was quite unnerving when his rasp broke through the cloth.

Eventually though you nodded, looking down at your feet and finally acknowledging all the blisters that had formed where the straps had dug into you. The shoes had been new, you’d been excited to wear them when you put them on earlier. Now, they were just another regret among many. 

“Let’s get them off, hm?”

You nodded again, caught by surprise by the tender way that he was dealing with you out of nowhere. Perhaps out of pity after speaking to the General. You had no way of knowing if he was sympathetic to that type of thing. He was a soldier afterall. They dealt with much worse than emotional neglect and were often oblivious to the cold way your dad treated you. At least in your previous experience of them...

Ghost got to his knees and softly took one of your feet in his hands, turning it slowly this way and that a couple times, until he caught sight of the tiny buckle. He dealt with it like he was diffusing a bomb. 

He carefully took the end of the strap in one hand and lifted the buckle with the other, gently letting the catch come loose. Then he slid the shoe from your foot and repeated the process with your other. You had to do a double take. Was this really the same man that had all but snapped at you like a vicious dog earlier? 

“Thanks,” you whispered, still uselessly holding the cloth in your hands. “Did the General say when we could leave?”

Ghost frowned as you addressed your dad by his title, but quickly fixed his eyes into that familiar cold stare. He thought to himself for a moment before he answered you. He was probably scared you’d kick off again, you realised. 

“He said he wouldn’t get here till evenin’ at least. Said he’d be bringing a chopper though.”

“Ok.”

You didn’t have anything else to say. You’d run out of words, and steam and any kind of fight and all the things that had kept you going before. 

You were going to be stuck with the two strangers until almost the next day. There was nothing you could do about it, no one you could complain to, no one that cared. You might as well just accept it. 

- 👑-

You’d ended up taking Ghost’s advice afterall. You’d finished cleaning up in the bathroom yourself and painfully trudged upstairs with your swollen feet, searching out the first bedroom you could find along the gloom of the lonely hallway. The lightbulb flickered and danced as you’d made your selection, chasing you into the room as it mimicked the gunfire you’d seen flashes of not hours ago. 

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, not like you thought it would. 

You’d been convinced you’d be left sitting like a character in a movie. Painfully watching the walls in the cold silence and mourning the life you could have had if only you came from a loving home. However, as much as you loved dramatics, you weren’t fit to live up to the hurting girl stereotype.

You realised that when you woke up again and the sun was shining through your room like a big bright fuck you. You thought you were getting a moment's peace? Think again. You were going to be awake for the rest of your internment at the safehouse. 

You sighed and scanned the room with your eyes, taking note of the peeling paint and sparse bits of furniture, confirming what you already knew. This room was just as shitty as all the rest. It wasn’t like there was any reason to maintain safehouses beyond being structurally sound and stocked with essentials, but it would’ve been nice to provide some comfort. At the very least they could’ve made it smell better, less musty, less like a place people came to rot.

“You’re awake.”

You yelped when you heard the voice break through the calm and looked over to the door, spotting the looming spectre that stood in your entryway. Ghost. Had he been watching over you the whole time you slept? You didn’t know whether to feel creeped out or grateful for the fact he was so concerned about your safety. 

“I am,” you finally said.

“Good. I thought I’d bring you something to eat.”

Perhaps he hadn’t been watching over you after all. Maybe it had been Ghost’s footsteps that had woken you up. It wasn’t a stretch of the imagination, he sounded worse than a herd of cows when he creaked across the floors.

You sat up when he walked into the room and caught a glance at the bowl in his hands. Something to eat was a good description of what he’d brought you. It looked like he’d heated some spaghettios. Not exactly the most appetising thing that you could think of, but given you hadn’t eaten since the morning before, you realised that beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Not that you were often, if ever, a beggar. It was easier for your family to give you unlimited access to money and shut you up than it was for them to spend any time in your presence arguing that you should work for it. 

“Thanks,” you murmured, taking the bowl off of Ghost after staring at it for a few seconds. 

There was a spoon already shoved into the bowl, and when you picked it up, you found yourself wincing at the burning metal. Ouch. Ghost couldn’t have warned you they were hot? You glared up at him, but he was already retreating back out of the room, seemingly content that you had everything you needed.

But you didn’t feel like you had everything you needed at all.

You felt pathetic admitting it, but you didn’t want to be alone. Your ears were still ringing even hours after the firefight had ended and there was nothing to do in that bland room all alone. And now to top it all off it felt much too hot and sweaty. You felt like you might go mad. You softened your features again and called out to Ghost, praying against all odds that he’d indulge you. 

“C-can you stay?”

Ghost paused and turned his head, his skeletal mask caught the golden glow of the sun. It didn't look right. He looked out of place in the sunlight. Though, you knew better than to voice that thought, he wasn’t going to stay if you insulted him again. 

“If you really want me to,” he finally replied, tilting his head at you.

You nodded and watched as he looked around and found no alternative but to sit on the end of the double bed, and sighed as he plonked himself down. The bed rippled with his weight, and you almost let the bowl spill out of your hands, but thankfully caught it before it could drop.

That wouldn’t have been good, you thought. You’d already set yourself on eating it all when it had cooled. You couldn’t go without food any longer or your stomach would be gurgling like an alien. How embarassing.

“Did you manage to get some rest too?” you asked awkwardly, testing the spoon in your hands again.

“Some,” he answered, casting his eyes over you. “Soap traded places pretty quick.”

“What an asshole,” you snorted, lifting a spoonful of pasta to your lips and blowing on it.

“That arshole saved your life, princess,” Ghost reminded you, voice regaining its husky edge. “Show some respect.”

“I didn’t-I mean…I just figured you could’ve probably used the rest, I was just joking…Sorry,” you muttered, resigning yourself to eating instead of talking.

Ghost watched intently as you ate every last spoonful, but you ignored him, finding yourself greedily taking on more and more as you recognised your own hunger. You forgot about Ghost’s scolding for the moment as you felt your hunger pangs rattling from deep within you. Though, you felt a little better after finishing the bowl. You were going to eat so much when you got back home, you thought to yourself. 

You set the bowl down on the floor and looked back at your rescuer, staring awkwardly at him for a few moments. The silence was making your skin crawl. Why wasn’t he saying anything? 

“Do you ever take off that mask?” you blurted, feeling your cheeks heat up as you said it.

Ghosts eyes took on a glint as you’d said it and if you weren’t mistaken it felt like he was…smiling? You bit your lip and looked away from him, focusing instead on a particularly chipped patch of paint on the wall to his left side.

“Why? Do you want me to take it off?” he asked, amusement lacing his tone.

“I just- I don’t get why you still have it on. The bad guys don’t know we’re here, right?”

“Maybe I’m just shy,” he teased, leaning back on the bed, his forearms rippling as they supported his weight. 

You snorted at his answer, folding your arms across yourself. Suddenly you were all too aware of the fact that he was staring at you bare faced, messy haired and still in yesterday’s tiny dress. There was no way that he was shy, and it seemed unlikely that he was ugly under there. He walked and talked like a confident man, like a man that had never questioned himself. How exciting.

“Has Soap ever seen your face?” you asked, picking at the loose threads on the blanket you laid under. 

“Why the sudden fascination?” he grumbled. “I thought I was a big scary serial rapist or somethin’?”

You winced as he threw your words from earlier back to you, it felt like you’d been burned with acid. You realised how stupid you sounded now. He’d held onto that. 

“I didn’t say that you were one, I said that you could be one,” you corrected, sighing at your own stupidity. “I didn’t know who you both were, in fact I still don’t. I guess- I guess I just got freaked out, is all. Do other people not react a little crazy when you go on rescue missions?”

“Other people tend to be more gracious, at the very least,” he snorted.

You winced again.

You really were a princess sometimes. As much as the nickname had been annoying you all night, the soldier wasn’t wrong to call you it. They’d been good enough to put themselves in harms way and carry you through a sea of threats only for you to turn around and return fire, calling them names. 

You put your head in your hands and groaned. You always slung your arrows at the wrong people. Always got prickly with people that tried to help. And they’d helped you more than anyone ever had.

“Thank you for saving me. I know it's a little late, but all the same…thanks for getting me out of there alive,” you murmured, catching a glance at his widened eyes. “And for- um, dealing with me earlier. That was nice of you cleaning me up like that.”

Ghost took a second to recover from you actually thanking him, his eyes staying open and shocked before returning to their usual shadowy state. They looked almost black even even in the sunlight. Though, you supposed it didn’t help they were hidden behind cloth and plastic. 

“You’re welcome, darlin’” he rumbled.

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Darling?” you grinned, preening at the warmth in his tone. “Am I growing on you?”

“Like black mould,” he groused, “Can’t get rid of your questions, can I?”

“You did not just compare me to mould,” you growled, forgetting yourself - and who you were facing up against - and shooting toward him with a pillow in hand.

Ghost, cast his eyes from you to the pillow and turned, catching you before you could do anything stupid with it and held you against the wide expanse of his chest again. You were held solidly against him, packed in tight and before you could do anything else, you were disarmed and your pillow was plucked right out of your hands and thrown back to the head of the bed.

“What’d you think you were gonna do with that then, ay?” he growled, his mouth dangerously close to grazing your ear. 

His breath was warm on your neck and it raised a trail of goosebumps across your flesh. You shivered in his arms, feeling his words send a shock through your body, and felt yourself go limp in his bulging arms. Why was he suddenly so much more enticing when he had you pinned down like this?

“Ay?” he asked again, releasing a low chuckle. “You think you can attack me, princess? Think you can do a bit of damage with those little arms?”

“I think I could do a lot of damage if you let me,” you breathed, scraping your lip under your teeth. 

The lieutenant paused and held you very still for a moment, his arms stiffening over your body like he’d moulded to you. Oh no. Had he not liked that, you wondered. Had you just embarrassed yourself again?

“Are you flirting with me?” he asked, voice not losing his amusement.

Oh good. So he wasn’t disgusted with you.

“Maybe…depends on if you liked it or not.”

“And if I liked it?”

“Then, yes, I was.”

You both sat in silence for a second, you stayed trapped in his arms, holding stock still while he mulled over what you’d said. What now? You didn’t have to wonder very long, he released you and turned your body so that you faced him again, balancing precariously on your hands and knees, capturing your face in his hands so that you were forced to look at him. 

“You should be careful who you flirt with, princess. It’s like you said earlier, I’m a stranger in a mask, you have no idea who I am…No idea what I’m capable of,” he trailed, letting your own mind take over the implication he was getting at.

Not that you got the point that he was trying to make. If anything the whole thing was suddenly hotter to you. A rough fuck with the giant soldier that just rescued you from a gang of kidnappers and could pin you down like you were nothing? Hadn’t he sensed your issues from a mile off? Maybe he had, maybe that was why he said what he said. 

“Maybe I wanna find out,” you whispered.

You shot forward and kissed where you supposed his lips must be and, luckily, guessed correctly. You could feel him tense up in surprise before yanking you off of him and pinning you under him, holding your body down against the bed with his sculpted body, his legs caging yours in and his hands holding your wrists like manacles. 

“Give me one reason you want to, other than spiting your father,” he purred, eyes glowing with amusement and curiosity.

So he did know your game.

“You have a sexy voice,” you tried, fluttering your lashes in a way that you hoped would work on him. 

“Fuckin’ americans,” he grunted, laughing lowly to himself. “I want somethin’ better than that.”

“Didn’t think you’d be the type to go fishing for compliments,” you snarked.

With that little comment , you were rolled over quicker than you could comprehend and before you could turn to see what he was doing he slapped you on the ass. It was solid, no nonsense. Enough to sting even though he’d done it through the fabric of your little dress. He wouldn't have to do much to expose you and make it hurt more. He’d just have to flip up the fabric. 

“Answer my question,” he growled, still holding one of your hands captive.

“Because I want you to teach me a lesson…because you’re the first person in a long time that’s had me minding my manners,” you sighed, using your free hand to give your body leverage enough to rut against the soldier's bulging crotch.

“Fuck me,” Ghost grunted, voice losing its sharpness as you rutted against him. 

“That worked?” you grinned, half shocked that it clearly convinced him. 

“You could have any cunt from England, princess, and plenty of em’ would sound like me. You think that they could make you beg like I can?” he questioned.

You were tempted to give him a sassy reply, but already knowing you too well, he hit you with a couple more spanks, this time on your bare ass and finally slipped your skirt up so that he could admire the flesh he was abusing. You gasped as he ran his hands over your cheeks and whimpered when he ran a finger over your slit. You practically feel his eyes glowing like laser sights as he connected with your glistening flesh and paused so that he could dip his finger into you and confirm his suspicions.

“Please,” you whined, praying that he’d start moving it, praying for friction.

“Looks like I’ve got my answer,” he chuckled, removing his soaked finger and slapping your ass noncommittally. “Please what, hm?”

“Please,” you cried out, feeling awfully empty as he’d withdrawn. “Please, I want your fingers. Want you to finger me please.”

“Aw, so cute when you’re all needy, princess. Alright. If you ask me nicely, I’ll give you what you want.”

“I did ask nicely!” you whimpered, feeling your body burning with desire for him.

It felt like he was all you could think of now. The kidnappers and the whole resentment thing you had going for your family was a distant memory and all that remained was Ghost. All that remained was burning lust and a need to have him inside of you, possessing you wholly and taking you for his own.

“You’re such a little brat, princess. I just told you that you could have what you wanted and you just had to go spoil it for yourself,” Ghost said, his voice forging into a chilling point. “Looks like you need to be taught better manners.”

You groaned at his words, but you didn’t get much of a chance to work out what they meant. Instead, his hand rained down hard on your already stinging flesh and he spanked you like it was his next mission. You cried out as the smacks began to burn more and more and wriggled in his grasp, fruitlessly struggling against him and fighting his expert hands to no avail. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” you chanted, giving him what you thought he wanted.

“Sorry, what?” he asked, accentuating each word with a slap. 

They were softer than the ones he’d been giving before at least. Like caresses against your screaming skin, fiery with his rough treatment.

“Sorry…for not asking nicely,” you said quietly, hoping to god he’d just give you what you wanted.

“Sorry, sir,” he grunted, running his hands over your hot skin.

“Sorry, sir,” you repeated quickly, sighing as his gentle touch soothed your prickling burns.

“That’s better.”

You hummed as his nails scratched down your cheeks and settled into the bed, feeling like the stiff blankets were transformed into egyptian cotton as your head grew fuzzy. His hands really were quite skilled, especially since he was so easily able to have you howling one second and then had you curling up like a cat the next.

“You wanna do this for the rest of the day or you wanna try asking for what you wanted again?” Ghost asked, his voice softening as he watched you relax.

“Mmm, would rather have your fingers inside me please, sir,” you moaned, smiling contentedly to yourself.

“That’s better…good girl.”

Your masked soldier grabbed your hips in his hands, making you feel tiny as he yanked you up like you were nothing. Yanked you into a half kneeling position as you kept your head pasted onto the bed, not having the strength to bring it up. Then finally, just as you were about to start begging again, spat on his hand and pierced his finger back inside you. 

You groaned at the intrusion and whined as he slowly pumped it in and out, getting you all worked up and turning you into a moaning mess. You were burning for more, your belly tightening as he worked his digit in and out and circled your clit with his other hand like it was an art. You whined and writhed and clutched at the sheets, crying out as he added another finger and increased his pace. You could feel the rumble that caught in his throat reverberate through your chest. ‘

“So pretty. Your cunt’s so wet and you’re clenching on me so hard. What would happen if I shoved my cock in there? Would you cum right away, princess?” he purred.

You whined out at that and felt your need light up anew, could feel it vibrate around your skull and through your gums. Yes. Stick your cock in me. That’s all you wanted, you wanted the big man on top of you, pinning you down and boxing you in like an animal, fucking into you like you were his own personal fleshlight. Fuck. 

“Ohmygod, please fuck me, Ghost!” you cried out, “Please, oh my god please, sir! Please fuck me.”

Ghost chuckled and slowed his pace, bringing his fingers to a near stop. It was like hell, the tingles dampening throughout your body, your high being torn from you. You growled out and tried to claw your way up, tried to face him and see the stupid glint that would no doubt be in his eyes, but before you could he shoved you back down and tapped your ass again.

“We don’t have condoms here, princess. It’s not exactly standard protocol,” he teased. “Doesn’t seem like such a good idea.”

“I don’t care! I’m on birth control and I get checked out by the doctor every month,” you whined, fighting against any argument he could make against giving you his cock. 

“Well…I suppose that changes things,” he grunted.

Thank fucking god! You were sure you were going to d-

“Fuck!”

Your strangled cry pierced the room as he replaced his fingers and thrusted into you, shattering you inch by inch with his massive cock. It seemed endless, it was torturous in all the right ways, the burn that licked through your body like a forest fire. He was huge, not that you doubted that of course.

“That what you wanted, hm? That feel good, princess?” Ghost said, coming to a stop as he filled you completely. “Tell me, how does that feel? I wanna know if anyone else has been able to make you as fuckin’ speechless as this.”

You whined out, scratching at the bed underneath you like a trapped animal and breathed in thickly, wondering if your lungs would ever recover from the events of the last few hours. Wondering how to answer Ghost. How did it feel? Did anyone else compare to him? What stupid fucking questions. 

Nothing compared.

“It feels so fucking good, feels like you’re gonna split me in half,” you gasped, rocking yourself against him. “Need you to move, need to feel you ruin me!”

“Oh yeah? You need me to move? What a slutty girl telling me such filthy things,” he growled, reaching around and grabbing your neck, not quite enough to choke but enough to let you know he was in control. “Tell me, slutty girl, who’s in charge?”

“You, sir!”

“Who gets to wreck this pussy?” he asked, slowly begining to fuck you, rocking himself slowly in and out of you at an agonising pace. 

“You, sir!”

“Are you my little whore?” He asked again, building up speed a little, catching you in all the right places and turning your head to mush.

“Yes sir,” you cried out, feeling yourself coming closer and closer to the edge.

“Good fuckin’ girl, princess.”

You screamed as he upped his pace out of no where and fucked you like it was his job. Your eyes lost focus and your teeth gnashed together and suddenly it was a fight to stay upright as he pounded in and out of you and held your neck tightly in his firm grasp. It wasn’t like anyone you’d been with before, this was a new level of fucking you’d never experienced.

“Fuck!” you cried out again. “Gonna- gonna cum.”

“Yeah? Good, cum for me. Clench on my cock, little slut.”

You moaned out and gripped the sheets underneath you tighter, feeling your whole body shaking as his cock forced you off balnce. Just a few more thrusts and-

It felt like bliss, it felt like a high from a drug you’d just taken for the first time. You came with a muffled scream as Ghost clamped his hand over your mouth and gasped wordlessly as he continued to fuck you. In and out, in and out, it was about all your mind could process as your body zipped and sparked like it had been hit by a thunderstorm.

He kept going like that, absolutely relentless, skewering you and turning you to mush below him, making you feel like dirt at his knees. You were nothing, you weren't any kind of princess, you were just his toy. And you fucking loved it. You loved that he could make you feel like that, but still make you feel so fucking precious as he continued to caress your skin and growl affirmations every now and then.

So fucking pretty.

Mine, princess, you’re mine. 

Feel so fucking good, you’re so fucking good.

You cried out as he put his hand around your throat again and put on some pressure, making you struggle a little to pull in air, but not by much. It felt exquisite. The tremors of your last orgasm were still bolting through you and now another one was building. You felt so good, felt so impossibly warm as you struggled beneath him. Fuck, you never wanted this to end. But you knew you could hardly take much more.

“You gonna cum for me again? Gonna give me another one before I finish? C’mon, I know you have another one in you, princess.”

You whined and felt your thighs shaking like they were going to collapse and suddenly his fingers closed tighter round the sides of your throat. You gasped loudly a couple times, trying to pant out that you were close, but the sound couldn’t quite form in your mouth. Then, in no time at all it was hitting you again, that high, that euphoria. Another orgasm. 

“Fuck!” Ghost growled out. 

You clenching around him had sent him over the edge and all too soon, you were both collapsing into the sheets like falling scaffolding. You clattered down against him and he pulled you close. He bucked his hips a couple times as he finished inside you, grunting a little with the increased sensitivity he felt as you shifted against him. It was divine.

You were both wrecked.

Neither of you said a word as you laid there, both keeping your eyes closed and your mouths open as you panted into the arid empty air. There was nothing to say. You just had to soak in the moment and retreat into each other's bodies, accepting the burning, unbearable heat you were both giving off and enveloping each other in it.

Fuck.

“Is that a better way of saying thank you, sir?” you finally moaned, grinning to yourself as you proved yourself right.

That was one way to teach you some respect alright.

[greeb-theartist]

Made a really big rant on wambus in my friends discord server, wanted to share it;

I wanna do a really big info dump on Wambus and Triffany's relationship and also talk about Wambus himself cuz he's pretty cool and I'm really fixated on him now... so:

I think a lot about Wambus tbh. Lemme explain. I feel like that's why he's so attached to Triffany, and everytime she doesn't come back for days and nights on end you can see it in the beginning of this game he just has this gut feeling that she's not coming back for him. I'll say it once and I'll say it again, wambus did not cheat on triffany with the cactus. cactriffy was created because of Wambus' unstable emotional attachment to Triffany.

When Triffany doesn't come back for awhile, rather instead of bottling his feelings up and exploding one day on her way random he tries to talk to the cactus about it. Cactriffy is a type of coping mechanism for him to deal with his abandonment he feels like he facing. Wambus is stubborn though, a crucial part to his character yes, but Triffany is too and I believe that is what many people in the fandom forget. He didn't cheat on her, she didn't cheat on him, all that happened was that they were both too set in their ways and hobbies to apologize to one another.

I feel like what people in the fandom also don't consider is that Triffany held her stakes *way* too high for Wambus. She expect so much of him it seemed, and it can probably come from her whole ordeal she has to be like her grandmother and such. They both have expectations they've tailed to live up too, and have different ways of coping with it. Triffany's way however seems to be staying away from humanity, more comfortable with intimate objects. Wambus is too, but he also misses feels like he failed Triffany so much he can't be forgiven, he can't be believed in anymore.

Speaking of not feeling he can be believed him anymore, I feel like this fandom tends to ignore his death voices lines. Wambus DIES thinking he is a failure, the others do not. His death is unique because it points out something about him: He was so set in his beliefs, he didn't realize Triffany loved him. And the truth is? It's because she didn't show it as much as she should. The whole reason why Triffany plans to grow a garden of all his favorite plants and such is because now the failure has shifted to her. She's now realized she's failed him not only as a wife but as a friend too.

With this next part I'm stepping into a bit of theoretical theory, but when watching @doomedpuppetyuri replay bugsnax, it had shown me a few times where Wambus was often mistreated by the cast. Take for the beginning party for example, I am always extremely infuriated by how people make such a joke of it. When Gramble says to Wambus "you don't know a thing about love, that's why your wife left you" it feels like an assumption. Triffany did *NOT* in any way leave Wambus, there a difference between packing up your things and leaving someone behind us. A stubborn personality getting in the way of an apology. They were not divorced in anyway or how, they were simply doing their own thing to handle their lives. Another thing I've noticed is Gramble often brings up Wambus a lot more than Wambus brings up Gramble. People forget that Wambus never starts the arguments, he is easily agitated. He doesn't speak much either. Same thing with the whole idea people have where Wambus threw cromdo out of spite or something. Cromdo, like the man he is but no hate to cromdo I love him probably agitated Wambus in some way that made him do that, and a small detail too is that in the DLC, Floofty has picked on Wambus too once (stating, Wambus doesn't trut Floofty since the 'Noodler Incident')

(And also I just wanna say no hate to any other characters I mention in this I've just noticed this about their relationship with Wambus.)

Wambus' emotions are their own topic themselves, because people often forget he's grumpy all the time, people make him grumpy. He's easily able to change his mood depending on what he's exposed to from other Grumps, and it feels like the some of other Grumps aren't nice to him. But Wambus is also at fault here sightly, because he's not the best at handling criticism and such, his mood can often change. Take the first scene where we meet Wambus for example: due to his stubborn qualities, when Filbo says something (accidentally) it provokes Wambus to be more hostile towards him. However, you can tell he is regretful. He is regretful when he apologizes to Filbo, Gramble, and Triffany.

Anyways I hope you enjoyed this has probably been my longest ramble ever on wambus troubleham 💔💔

[aghostwithnoname]

Official Fuck Raphael/Hope Appreciation Post

Okay, so this is probably going to upset people but I don't care. I'm real sick of this "Raphael is so hot" BS. Like, firstly, that man is MID at best. Secondly, are we not gonna talk about the fact this man is a certified abuser in every sense of the word? Like, sure he's sweet-talking and clever (most abusers are imo). Newsflash: real monsters are rarely people you find unattractive!!!

What really grinds my gears is that you can stumble on Raphael making a deal with a literal child re: my sweet baby Mol and people are like, "but he's hot though". You can walk through his fucking house filled with all the poor bastards who never stood a chance making a deal with him, stuck forever being punished for their "sins", and people will be like, "Omg, my little cringe man" like??? (Holy god, that whole quest fucked so hard with my religious trauma.)

But if not the BIGGEST fucking red flag for this public adoration of Raphael is how he's treated Hope. It's like to them, she doesn't even exist!! Like, my girl has been stuck in that House of Horrors for gods know how long, still refusing to give into his charms and his sweetly worded promises of power (unlike Korilla, who gladly abuses her sister for Raphael). And Hope helps you because for once, she finally sees a way out. The personal notes kept by Raphael on Hope's torment that you can find throughout the house are difficult to read: he tried to break her in the most insidious of ways. He was physically, emotionally, and mentally abusive to her, purely for his pleasure. Purely for the reason that he finds it amusing that he can literally torment Hope in hell.

I get that we don't have to morally approve of every character we like! For comparison on liking "bad" characters, say what you want about Astarion -- He's not a great guy! He's done some pretty bad shit! BUT he was FORCED to do all of those things by Cazador. (Also, kindly fuck the Cazador apologists, seriously.) Astarion's jaded selfishness is not who he really is, which is slowly revealed when you show respect for his personal autonomy and literally the smallest amount of kindness, whether or not you romance him. Raphael, on the other hand, wants to hurt people because it feeds into his "Daddy Mephistopheles didn't give me enough attention" superiority complex -- and tbh, that's just fucking pathetic.

The REAL OG who you all should be praising is Hope.

She has been tormented for centuries. She has been victimized by her own flesh and blood for her abuser. She has been shattered and ground down into her smallest pieces until there's almost nothing left… and yet, she hopes. She hopes for freedom. She hopes that her sister will return to being the person she so fondly remembers from her childhood. She hopes she can trust you, in spite of everything she's been through. Not to mention, when you do free her, Hope is literally one of the most badass companions you can have to help you win that fight! (For all these reasons and more, she reminds me a bit of my other fav girl Karlach.)

The reason Raphael delights in torturing Hope is because hope is a dangerous thing to have when all seems lost -- and that's the entire fucking point. This scared shitless little man sought to bend Hope to his will because her persistence/resistance threatened him, and by the gods, she is my favorite NPC because of that.

As someone who has been abused, by other people, by insidious ideologies, I can never ever, ever side with someone who so clearly mimics the very things that tried to break me and kill what remained of my hope. I see myself in Hope. Her indecision, her fear, as she dares to believe freedom is a possibility. The way her dialogue is delivered (much kudos to her voice actor) directly mimics that same scared voice in my head that second guesses myself, that worries I am not enough, that my abusers were right, that I wasn't ever deserving of happiness or being alive -- and then that same scared voice cuts through it all and screams to survive out of spite, to live happily as the best form of revenge.

Again, I get that we don't have to morally approve of every character we like! I totally understand it -- but I also want you all to expend some critical thinking as to perhaps WHY so many people are fawning over a man who is so clearly is a thinly veiled piece of shit over a woman who dared to challenge him, suffered for it, and emerged victorious.

Hope is fucking amazing. She is a gods-damned survivor. She is fury and vengeance and sorrow and joy all at once. She stays in hell to help the other souls tormented and abused by Raphael. She asks that you visit her some time. She strives to create a home of out the house that was her prison… and truly, I hope every day to be more like her.

[shit-taster-connoisseur]

BOO!

Haha, Did I Scare Ya?

Anyways I Noticed That You’re Looking For Some Silly Questions, So Your Wish Is Granted Mate!

A Simple One Of Course, What Are Your Thoughts/Opinions About One Of The Villains Such as The Interesting Twins?

JXJDB sure did

These guys, are by far my favorite villians, also im sucker for sibling dynamics

Wished they were taken more seriously, but won't deny some of their episode were my favorites by far (especially OP T.R.I.P). Less because of the gags they thrown them in, but rather we do finally see glimpses of their own personalities cause up until then there rlly wasnt much on them besides them failing and falling out a whole damn window all the time xxbdj honestly, that calls into question how resistant these guys are holy shit

The sister(if anyone got any name suggestions for them plz tell so I can steal them too/j), is fed UP, and I love her for it, cause with the amount of shit she's face i'd go fucking insane too. I vote we should give her gun, all her problems would be solved/j but actually, i enjoy that she's a little shit, impulsive, arrogant, etc, but i think it kinda stems from a fear of failure because how else would they've been known as father's bestest spies? Sector V had knocked down a pedestal, and that fucks with her head, but then their failures began to pile up and now she's becoming increasingly desperate to prove that she's still somehow #1– in turn she because implusive, impatient, etc. Sbe 100% cares for her brother, so at the same time she feels like she's dragging him down, it all piles on. Maybe a vaca would do her some good.

The brother, I absolutely adore him – tbh I adore both of them equally. He seems more like the younger of the two in terms of personality, we seem always following his sister's lead despite how irrational it could be. His loyalty and compassion to her is something that kinda pushes him to being my fav twin spot, cuz well im a sucker for good brother characters. And despite his more "softer" attuide compared to his sister's, they're both evil and flawed equally on the same level ‐ mo manipulation or pressure(well kind), nah-da. As the brother is just as implusive, selfish, and arrogant, but he hasn't let their failure get to his head just yet – in turn, he has more clearer head than his sister, so he ends becoming a voice of reason than a leader.

(Readmore cuz this is long jdbdb)

It's pretty popular theory that they're delightful, which is something I think about a LOT when it comes to their characters. And a bit more headcanon here: their non-delightful selves are still conscious, as to me(inspired heavily by my SS au with a friend), being delightful serves as just a filter for kids. Kinda like you feel the urge to chuck a plate, but because you're delightful, it's like a parasite keeping your hands folded in your lap, controlling your behaviors and words.

And they both don't like that their delightful-selves are fighting against old comrades because they were probably ex-KND operatives. perhaps got caught during a mission in Father's mansion, and faded to obscurity in KND history. Either that, or maybe they were father's first delightful experiments? Before the DCFDTL? Maybe that's why they aren't as insync as the DCFDTL, cuz you'd think them being related by blood would strength that bond.

Honestly, i just want an AU where they're happy:))

More headcanons:

Lesbian/Gay solidarity and hostility

They are the entire Evelyn Evelyn album(or not idk, havent listen to it in awhile)

If they ever do end up being undelightfulized, they'd have vastly different asthetics out of spite. Not sure which ones yet

They'd marathon Saturday morning cartoons to get the full childhood experience!!

They consider the DCFDTL sort like cousins, a familial connection is there at least

They're presumed missing, so they live alone in a house bought by Father. They're able to split the chores usually, but the Brother is the better cook between them, so the sister just does the dishes.

Alternatively they also live in Father's mansion, but because they keep falling out of windows at comical heights, they're in bed rest planning their next schemes, therefore more out the way

If they got turned into animals, they'd probably be panthers or owls idk

(Lord save me it's nearly 1am on a school might xmsb)

[monstrouslyobsessed]

some of these are SUPER old, gomen, so it'll be all under the cut for yall sanity. i really need to start answering more timely rip

tw: mild implications of noncon (cerelos), psychological mindfucks (cerelos), mentions of pregnancy (dol)

Oh, I can wait for your content as long as it takes! Creating is not an easy task, so take your time, dear. Ofc, posting everyday is cool, blah-blah, but your health and mental state is much more important. Don't worry about this <3 And talking about DoL, did you get to Ivory Wraith already? Who is your faves generally? —anonymous

did i not answer this before??? tumblr, please. anyway, ye i did! plotwise, very very fascinating. gameplay wise, annoying as heck when i was in middle of things i was working towards to lol i do wish ivory wraith's plot wouldn't be centered around weird anal/ear/whatever pregnancy tho, thats…kinda not my thing kdshkds--and thats coming from someone who writes preg on the regular. pls dev.

Ahhhh don't feel bad! Ur content is top-tier and u r a lovely perfect bun! Even quick look on your post is enough to feel that you're always working hard to give your best – it's we who should be thankful for all food u r giving </3

A lot lot lot of love to ya, dear 🥰 @iwanthistongue

dawww thank you dear <3333 i just wish i have it in me to be the super productive like some of the epic writers on this platform, but i dont dsklhdsl so all i can do is to do my best and provide every so often <3 also sorry that i cant seem to ping you???

Omg you're into dol? Who's your favorite character so far? —anonymous

eden, tbh! i ran into a scenario where they kidnapped me angry after being gone for too long. oof, what happened after that…wheeoooow but most of the characters are pretty dang good too!! i'd like to focus more love on kylar but theyre quite...annoying gameplay wise so…augh lol

i crave more beastfolk content 🤤 maybe something with a male reader dealing with a few yandere beastfolk who are trying to one-up each other and compete for him? male!yandere x male!reader content is a bit hard to find, especially if it's transmale!reader —anonymous

just send in an ask and i'll see what i can do! i found writing male readers (be it cis or not!) a little tricky sometimes, because i always feared crossing that…bad line, yanno? in spite of the contents i write.

that said, i'm all for writing more gays, just need a little nudge and sparks to write one~

have you heard of scp 401? —anonymous

…huh, this is a pron in the making. but no! this is the first ive heard of it. im aware of scp and knew some of its characters but not this one!!

Happy bday! I hope you got yourself a nice treat! —anonymous Happy birthday, dear! 🥳—anonymous Happy (i guess)late birthday, luv!!! Thank you for writing at this special day, hope your day was amazing <3 —anonymous

ohhhh this is months late;;; im so sorry but thank you all so much for your kind bday wishes!! ily all a bunch!!!

OMG YESSSS LORE!!! MORE MORE MORE <333 Thank you for the food, I can't stop re-reading 😭😭😭 —anonymous

ye~i mainly wanted to do more centaur pron tbh LOL glad you liked my nasty bois!

For a few days I had a thought- I hope it's ok to share ahaha- Okay, so – after getting in his grasp his future bride were acting so, so good. Her dedication is admirable, she's a quick learner and charismatic enough to get the liking of the teachers and maids. Her gentle and caring nature shows while she's communicating with others – no surprise everyone likes her. She's the same she was the day he met her... But the thing is, after all of this, she's absolutely terrified of Cerelos. She's not crying and wailing, but she's getting so quiet, so uncomfortable in his company, she always hiding her eyes and never tries to speak first – and she trembles so, so bad every time they're touching! Last time she even fainted from all nerves. How he may act and how mad he would be that servants getting more smiles and laughs than him? —anonymous

hmmm depends on why the darling is frightened tbh are they always afraid or is this started after cerelos took them the first time? i do imagine he'd be pretty upset and even offended, though he won't outwardly show his feelings. he'd probably start ordering the servants to disappear whenever the darling is in sight, be invisible, to further isolate them, to force them either to face their loneliness and/or accept cerelos as their emperor and husband. since humans are in nature social, they'd naturally long for some form of company and possibly some skin to skin contact.

in short, since the coecrced sex doesn't seem to do enough, cerelos would've likely infict some psychological damages on his darling to force them to accept him. he wouldn't be…physically abusive, no, but he will emotionally and mentally cripple his darling without relying on cruel words and uses some amount of gaslighting.

regardless, you will only have him and you will love him. he is, after all, your emperor and husband. why wouldn't you embrace him and his power?

Hi! I hope this is okay to ask: I saw one of your slightly older asks, and you mentioned you have a draft with a slime monster. I'm very curious about that one (but I also love your writing in general!), so I just wanted to ask you if you plan on finishing it —anonymous

.....sdhdflsk i thought i posted it, gosh dang it. well, i'll look into this later. if nothing else, it would be nice to go back and post my shitty 5 minutes thoughts again.

Hello how are you ? Hope you are doing well ❣️ I wanted to ask if you will continue or write anything similar like the rabbit hybrid fic ..it's my fav and i also like the ghost husband fic ..sorry if i made u uncomfortable👉👈...Have a nice day💖 —anonymous

i'm doing better!! <3 ty for checking in, luvvv

and after some waffling around, i considered since human/beastfolk hybrids are so rare and are considered the 'monsters' of their world (ig basically, considered as 'mythical', like yeti's and such, but actually does exist, kind of monsters), i figured it couldn't hurt to make these sad hybrids canon to my universe soooooooo ye i wouldn't mind doing more of them!! also i've done a crocodile hybrid one, if you've missed that one.

no, no, you're good! <3 loves getting asks like this~

the momster is back!!! we missed you, hope you’re having a good day <333 (p.s i am a monster fucker through and through, i will literally read and love anything you write mwah) @letskidaddle

daww youre so sweet!!! <3 ty!! monster fuckers united!!!! and yes you have a lovely day as well!!

whewwww, thats some asks to get through hhhh but man tumblr is so ugly. anyone know the fix to get it back to its simple self??

anyway, im slowly getting into the swing of things. got couple wips i can work on, maybe, and clear the inboxs for a fresh start (sorry to anyone who were waiting on certain things!! you can send them again tho!! a clean slate is needed imo). anyway, hope yall are doing wonderfully <3

[dipplinduo]

1. What's your favorite Legendary Pokemon and why? 2. If you could Kieran any legendary (other than the Gen 9 legends), which would you give and why?

Omg a random ask for my personal opinions?? I'm touched B)

1. What's your favorite Legendary Pokemon and why?

(I'm using these specific classifications as I answer your question)

So hot take but I don't really feel too strongly about most of the legendaries 💀 I seem to be more of a sub-legendary and mythical pokemon fan by happenstance, so I'm just gonna expand my response with them since I'm more interested in them.

Strictly Legendary:

I like Lugia and Mewtwo because of their respective movies, but I honestly think I'm most attached to Cosmog by a long shot. I don't have too much of an articulate answer behind as to why other than Gen 7 really nailed the landing with creating an attachment to the curious lil' thing and I love it so much :') I just love its personality, and would 100% love to keep it as a little pet and yell at it to get in the bag. xD

Sub-Legendary:

THIS THING. THIS THING GAVE ME HELL CATCHING IT IN MY FIRST D/P PLAYTHROUGH AND IT MADE ME WANT IT SOOOOOO BAD LOOOL

I really, really, really loved the concepts behind the lake trio and what they represented, and was particularly drawn to Mespirit at the time (although Uxie lowkey has the best cry). Nowadays the trio is almost neck-and-neck even, tbh.

I also have thoroughly enjoyed Ogerpon - she's the only legendary I've actually opted to use in my main team throughout all the gens because I got attached and didn't like the other grass pokemon options.

Blacephalon is also a weird take I can't explain. I love the chaos and variety of colors in its design. It just seems very chaotic and strange as is. OH, AND THE DOG TRIO FROM JOHTO. AND LATIOS AND LATIAS. GOD I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THEM IN EVERY MEDIA.

Mythical:

OOOOH this one is VERY close because I love, love, love the mythicals apparently. Celebi's connection to time, the movie, THE GAMES, and the overall atmosphere behind it is just 110% my kind of personal aesthetic lmao. Like I'd love to have this little fairy are you kidding me???

Shaymin is a very very close second. I love how it has two forms and love its connection to nature. My connection to this pokemon in particular also grew because I associate it with the late memory of someone close to me who passed away. I think of them with this pokemon, so it holds an extra sentiment.

Otherwise I really really really also love Mew (fight me) and Jirachi is awesome because WISHES??? Bangers.

2. If you could Kieran any legendary (other than the Gen 9 legends), which would you give and why?

Lol you're so based for excluding the gen 9 mons, lets go.

Strictly Legendary:

Helloooo Gen 5 fans LMAO. I really feel like there's a lot of unspoken poetry between Kieran & the player with Reshiram/Zekrom parallels. I could honestly see Kieran holding either legendary relatively well from a symbolic standpoint, but Zekrom seems to fit him a bit more imo. He's quite motivated through his ideals to find a truth he wants to see - whether it be "the Ogre being misunderstood" before it was verified, his concepts for what makes a capable trainer and respectable or valued person, and his desires to prove himself. He gets a little too lost in his visions to the point where they cloud his perception and his judgement is ultimately soured; he's desperate to compete and externals it on the player, but in reality he's competing with the standard of an ideal he thinks he himself should be.

Sub Legendary:

I don't mean to pull too much from the lake trio with this post, but honestly, I feel like a lot of Kieran's journey and character arc can be summed up with his enduring willpower. Whether he's motivated through passion, spite and envy, or through his desire to correct his wrongdoings, Kieran really grows into his own because of how much he prioritizes his fire and determination.

Mythical:

Bit of an indescribable take for me but I'm oddly drawn to Marshadow for the mythicals - especially for Teal Mask Kieran. I think it just really symbolizes more of his timid dispositions and more gentle personality underneath everything his edgieness LOL, I guess? And there's something that speaks to me in terms of having him honor that side of him and learn to embrace it - especially alongside the other picks I listed.

This was fun!! I hope these answers were entertaining. :)

[mrs-luigi-vargas]

Inky Soup for the Soul

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Characters: Kamek, Kammy Relationships: Kamek & Kammy Tags: Sickfic, Bickering, Arguing, Frenemies, neither of these two end the fic having a good time tbh, Sicktember 2023

Summary: A few days after Kammy visits a sick Kamek, it’s Kamek’s turn to visit a sick Kammy. This visit goes even more poorly than the last one. Prompts: 3. "What happened to your phenomenal immune system, huh?", 7. “You’re a Jerk When You’re Sick”, 23. Coughing Fit Word Count: 1,444 words

Note: The events immediately preceding this fic are detailed here, and the events that immediately follow are detailed here.

[AO3 Link]

~~~

"What happened to your phenomenal immune system, hm?"

Propped up against the headboard of her bed, Kammy looked up from the book her eyes were too tired to read. “Don't put words in my mouth, you asshole,” she spat, voice hoarse.

Kamek swept into her quarters, a smug air about him. While he still was a bit pale from his own bout of sickness, he looked leagues better than Kammy did at the current moment, which to her, the objectively prettiest person in this castle, was both infuriating and humiliating in equal measures.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Am I not allowed to return the favor of your visit the other day?” Kamek’s voice oozed with false concern as he approached her bedside.

Ugh. Consequences.

“Oh, but where are my manners?” Kamek continued, waving his wand. “I didn't come here empty-handed, after all!”

A bowl floated in the air and settled in Kammy’s lap. It was warm. It was soup. Her nose was too stuffed to smell it, yet she could tell Kamek had at least bothered to get a flavor she didn't hate. As she examined the soup, Kamek watched her expectantly. Kammy sneered at him. “How do I know you didn't poison this?”

“Why I never!” Kamek put a hand to his chest in mock offense. “I’ve never poisoned anything in my life!”

“I seem to remember a rather important poisoning you did a few decades ago.”

“That was your poison,” Kamek sniffed, “that you made. I just delivered it.”

“Bah.” Kammy looked down at the soup. She should eat it. But the effort of lifting her leadened arms didn't seem worth expending right now.

Kamek smirked. “If you need assistance —”

On spite alone, Kammy mustered the energy to shove a spoonful of soup into her mouth. Kamek’s smirk didn't budge at the scowl she made around her spoon.

It only took a few more spoonfuls before Kamek opened his stupid mouth again. “I also bring news from Lord Bowser!” he said.

“Let me guess. The project is canceled.”

“The project is postponed!” Kamek corrected, smarmy grin on his face. “Until further notice!”

Great. Kammy took a cranky bite of her soup. And Kamek will probably be back at the helm of it, because he was the healthier one. Kammy huffed. It had been worth a shot, she supposed.

Kamek was still standing there watching her. “Why are you still here?” Kammy scowled. “Aren't you finished making my day the worst I've had in months?”

“But how can you say that” — Kamek reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper — “when the Young Master drew this especially for you!”

Kammy took it from him, squinting at the haphazard scribbles of color. ”What the fuck is this supposed to be?”

“I was told it was you, with your crystal ball.”

“Hmph.” Kammy glared at her likeness. She definitely wasn't that fat.

“It’s surely fridge-worthy, isn't it?”

“It’s certainly garbage worthy.”

“Oh? You're not going to add it to that locked box you have hidden under your bed?”

Kammy stilled. “...why do you know about that.”

“Same way you know about the hidden panels in my desk.” Kamek crossed his arms. “You really need to change those wards of yours; those outdated protections could be cracked by an infant!”

“Bold of you to say, hypocrite. Have you even noticed where those magazines of yours had gone off to?”

“...which magazines.”

“Oh you know.” Kammy regarded him lazily. “Those ones.”

Kamek regained his composure faster than Kammy would’ve liked. “W-well,” he said, fiddling with his glasses. “I found a chest in a panel in your dresser a while ago,” he blurted out, and as Kammy’s face flipped from smug to stormy Kamek barreled on, leaning in closer to her with a smirk. “Wooden, right? Pink with glitter and lace? Not really something that matches your usual style, I'll have to admit.”

“You...!” Kammy growled, low and dangerous.

“Me!” Kamek sang. “It's a shame you're in no shape to get up and check on it. I might have taken a few souvenirs; who knows!”

The drawing in Kammy’s hands crumpled in her grip. “You're bluffing.” He had to be. But in her sickened haze, she wasn't as sharp at reading his tells.

Kamek seemed to realize this too, and the glint in his glasses was almost gleeful. “There was a lot of paper in there. Quite the flammable little display,” he remarked, idly inspecting his claws, and no. No, he couldn't have actually —

“You fucking bastard!” Kammy swiped at him with her spoon; her swing went wide, and Kamek danced out of range, cackling. “You’re bluffing,” she hissed, hating the way it came out less like she was calling his bluff and more like she was trying to convince herself he was bluffing in the first place. “You didn't see shit! And if you put your filthy hands all over my clothes I’m going to rip them off and shove them up your —!”

Kammy’s voice caught in her throat. She tried to breathe past it, but the rest of her threats were lost to coughs and coughs and coughs. Coughs that very quickly had her head spinning, bent double over the bowl of soup that hadn't spilled a drop despite all her movement. The foresight required for casting the correct charms for such a thing compounded by the helplessness from the coughing fit and Kamek’s supposed invasion of her privacy had her clawing at her bedding in frustration.

When she could finally take in ragged gasps she could actually control, she unscrewed her eyes and saw Kamek watching her with something close enough to pity lurking behind his hideous-looking glasses that Kammy saw red. She bared her teeth at him and threw her spoon as hard as she could.

“Hey!” Kamek ducked, the spoon spinning through the space where his head just was and clattering against the far wall. “You know,” he groused, “you’re a real bitch when you’re sick.”

“Evidently not enough of one,” Kammy snapped, voice crackling and thinning, “considering you’re still here. Get out!”

Kamek hesitated.

“And give me back my damn spoon,” Kammy added, so he had something to do that wasn’t looking at her like that...!

As was his specialty, Kamek did as he was told. He absently wiped the spoon clean on his robes once it was in his hand, a without-a-second-thought motion that soured Kammy’s mood further. Did this fool know how to do anything but coddle?

“Well!” Kamek rolled his eyes. “I can tell when I'm not wanted —”

“Can you?”

“— so I suppose I’ll take my leave.” He ignored Kammy’s interruption, setting her spoon on the bed. “I’ve got much more important things to do than waste time with you, after all, like actually doing my job and enjoying the ability to breathe through both nostrils simultaneously.”

Kammy waited until he was almost at the door before she spoke again. “While you’re doing that,” she drawled, knowing this would be the last thing her throat would let her say for a good while, “tell me if the air under the King’s desk still smells the same, will you?”

Kamek’s head whipped around so fast it was a shame he didn't snap his own neck. Kammy stared back at him, chin high and bored expression settled on her face. His enraged sputtering was a balm to her soul; his wand arm even twitched as if he was briefly considering outright violence. But faced with Kammy’s unflinching gaze, all he could do was grind his teeth and storm out of her room, slamming the door behind him with a loud bang. The noise nudged at her budding headache, but it was worth it. Peace and quiet at last.

Basking in her success, Kammy turned her attention back to her soup. It was still warm; another charm on the bowl keeping it that way. Her earlier resentment rose up again, but it was swiftly quashed by the growling of her stomach. Absently, she reached for where Kamek had put her spoon. Less absently, she strained to grab it, claws failing by a mere hair’s breadth to brush the cool metal no matter how far she stretched. That rotten, good for nothing —!

Kammy screamed, a near soundless noise that ended in a few more coughs as she fell back onto her pillows. She stared up at the ceiling, blowing the bangs off her face with a huff. They fell right back where they were. She sank further into her bed, hands over her face. If only the Stars would put her out of her misery right now...!

[randomsebs]

yeah it’s definitely strange to see the cult-like behavior towards who he “dates.” suddenly posting her, adding her to their bio, complimenting her looks and projects, defending her as if she’s now a member of their family. these women do not know you! even seb would find it a bit offputting.

it’s extreme to constantly parasocially insist “he’s so happy” “she’s amazing” “they’re going to get married” when plenty of people (in real relationships) can choose the wrong person and present themselves smiling to the world, while not actually thriving — aka like half the couples on social media and the serial dater friends we all worry about.

what i find particularly annoying is using any hate against her as ammunition against the belief of PR existing. it’s really strange how they refuse to acknowledge that every celeb does PR, and that we’re only seeing what he wants us to see. in the year 2024 you’d think they’d open their eyes to how everything isn’t fairytales and honesty. he’s an actor who acts even when the camera isn’t rolling, are we so shocked? they don’t want to believe that he would ever need that, but only a decade ago he almost went bankrupt and his career has survived two recessions. he barely got his recent low budget movies made! he’ll do almost whatever it takes to stay in this industry, they underestimate that. tbh we’re on the better side of it here bc we can actually appreciate that he made this sacrifice in the first place. to ignore how he isn’t himself around her or when he looks sad is just irresponsible as a fan, if you treated him as a human you’d see the reality and have spare some sympathy instead of blind applause.

I know. People assume I just don’t like her because she’s with Sebastian? I am a big fan of sebs do not get me wrong, but I have also done MY research.

People just ignore the things she’s done for NO reason. How come they didn’t ignore ale? Didn’t ignore Ellie? And not to mention they hated Margo for NO reason too. They hated his good exes, they hated his bad exes. I do not support ale or Ellie because of the things they’ve done too, don’t get me wrong, but to ignore Annabelle’s problematic issues it’s disgusting and wrong. Not to mention - sending me death threats, doxxing threats (only threats, no actual leaks but I’m still weary), body shaming me, insulting me, calling me “ugly” when you don’t even know what I look like, etc… all because I do not like her?

They also claim: “You’re just mad he won’t fuck you”. NO SHIT HE WONT?! Im in a HEALTHY, HAPPY relationship, I have my OWN life behind my comfort celebrity? Yeah, hear that? He’s my COMFORT celebrity. I like him for being himself.

When he’s with Annabelle, he isn’t. People post “happy” pictures of them to spite others with a different opinion than they have. 1. In Rome it was a very clear pap walk, when she found out he was spotted she had to release more photos of them in Rome just so people wouldn’t forget about her. When Seb is spotted in LA, it’s not because he “lives” there for her (I’m sure he has a place in LA and NYC for work and stuff) but to move there for her? I don’t think so. They’re not close enough to even live with each other, which is very clear. When he is seen with her dogs, it’s baiting. Anytime they’re “accidentally papped” is not accidental, it’s so she can get recognition from HIM and his fan base.

This worshipping shit needs to stop, honestly. If another celebrity did this (stalking, lying about what she supports for a good view, posting perverted stuff in the past, posting random plus-sized people and making fun of them in the caption, and making fun of a plus-sized man of a different color), they’d get bashed (as they should), or if any of his exes did this, the whole fandom would raid their comments. Why are we being hypocritical here? You’d all find any dirt on any of his exes except NOW this “girlfriend” is “humble”… no she isn’t. If she was humble she wouldn’t have to try so hard to get recognized from her own boyfriend’s fame instead. If she was humble, don’t you think she wouldn’t waste all her money on expensive designer, lots of fillers, tons of surgeries, Botox, etc?? I’m not saying she can’t use her money like that, but to be called humble when she literally baits her co-worker/PR boyfriend whenever she gets the chance? I mean she also stalks her “boyfriend”’s fans just to make sure she’s also receiving attention. Isn’t that creepy? No. Everyone takes it as: “Annabelle supports us, she knows we exist!” Yeah, she knows you’re buying into the PR so much, she knows that you’re all connecting her to every little movement or outfit Seb wears, she KNOWS she’s getting attention from his fandom. It’s way too out of hand.

Wonder why Seb is different? All the hate and Annabelle. Annabelle isn’t the type of person I’d hang around, speaking that I’m friends with someone like her in the first place, it’s very toxic and it’s the polar opposite from Seb. Haven’t you ever noticed that she changes her entire personality with every single relationship she gets into?? What’s next? It’s saddening. She looked more in love with Chris pine then Seb, but she was well aware that she wasn’t receiving a good amount of attention from Pine’s fans, she knew about Seb way before they even gotten together. She followed him before they began this contract too, when they “started dating” she literally unfollowed him. She follows some of his fan accounts, stalks them, what not, just so she can also be making sure she’s the center of attention as always. She knew if Seb got bigger than how he was when she aimed to him, that she’d be receiving the best amount of attention.

I’m not being “biased” because I like Seb? It’s just because I do not like her, that’s my opinion and it’s because I do not support what she does in general.

It’s clear they have no chemistry whatsoever, but fans ignore it. I honestly believe someone HAS to be hired at this point, there’s no way that they’ll all of a sudden switch up like this when there’s plenty of proof on her own profile if you scroll down.

The thing is, she never apologized for anything she done. She repeats it again because she knows no one will care about it, she does not care what type of attention she gets. She doesn’t care if she gets hate, love, she just likes to be talked about.

This situation is concerning. It’s almost as if they want him to see this drama, like: “Seb look at what we’re doing!! Defending your PR girlfriend”. I don’t think he’ll come back to posting because of what you guys are doing, you know that right? If you observed Seb with her, you’d see crystal clear that they’re both annoyed with each other or that he just looks miserable/uncomfortable.

[historia-vitae-magistras]

sorry for this dumb horny question but who (or what? because i won't judge) is matthew's best fuck?

OH That's a very interesting question. When he and Jan were good they were good. That sex was mind-blowing. Matt sucks cock like he was born to do it (tbh probably the trait Francis is most proud of when he hears about it third hand) and Jan was a happy, happy man for a very long time. Jan was also very good at fucking Matt so hard he had enough serotonin or dopamine for months. Man's prostate got worked over in a kind of way Matt could walk straight all weekend.

He gave Maria a pretty good time. She fucks him for the bit in the 90s because someone said he should count as Latin American just to spite Alfred and his goddamn economic wheeling and dealing to make them the worlds weirdest threesome . (No seriously its been four times someone told me I count as Latin American just to say fuck off to the Americans in a group and like.... on a technicality I fucking guess but its a very strange mind screw.) Don't ask me if it was memorable because his entire body was on capsicum related fire or because he the kind of sunburnt so painful it starts to feel a bit like nutting or if they actually clicked but it'd been awhile since either of them had fucked so it just happened.

Katya is probably the most intense. There's almost something religious about it, his bare back in black earth, her riding with her head thrown back and her body soft against him, fingers interlaced with earth and sky and sun all around them. They fuck soft, they fuck hard, they fuck against trees and in fields and on the floor and on the counter and on the table and the sofa. They often go so long without each other that when they do finally get to it, it's like dumping petrol on a fire they're going up in the horniest flames. He fucks her, she fucks him, it doesn't quite matter for those two because no matter where in the world she is, she's in him, a part of him. Sometimes I think that for nations, they fuck like the gods did at the dawn of the world. Before onion domes and Orthodoxy or cathedrals and Catholicism, the trees were the temples and blood, earth and lovemaking was the language of the gods. Sometimes they fuck and the garden will grow. Somethings they fuck and the ice will ease up. Sometimes they fuck and the old world is new and the new world is old. People use the phrase 'I saw god' for when someone comes so hard their world view is changed. For the best times, for the very best times between Matt and Katya, god can stay in his distant heaven because all he'll see is her.

[thegreatimpersonator]

Okay in light of all these mental health affecting relationships conversations I feel I can share a bit of the messy friend group story I sent you an ask about last week. It's a decently big group of people, and there's one married couple that has a kid. One party in that marriage is addicted to gambling, and it's so bad that he owes money to a dozen different people and it all totals a large amount. He's had this issue for a while according to other people in this group, and his wife has threatened to leave him before if he continues. He lies to her about borrowing money and taking out payday loans and all that stuff. He asked to borrow money from me, before I knew about his issue. He said he was in a tight spot and needed food for their toddler and I was happy to help. Only to learn he actually used his kid as an excuse to spend money on gambling, which pissed me off. So I talked to a few people in the group and that's how I learned about the gambling history. I said I was gonna tell his wife so they could sort it out and people begged me not to because they were scared it would be her last straw and she'd finally leave. The people closer to him organized a literal intervention, and then he finally fessed up to his wife, promising to stop gambling. Except it seems to have been her last straw indeed, but she's not looking to leave him. She's looking to get back at him by cheating now. And the way I know this is because one of the people at the intervention told me she said so. She said if he can keep making terrible mistakes like that for years now, not trying to improve, he's checked out of the marriage because he doesn't care, so why should she? And she's been looking for someone to sleep with since then. The same person later received explicit texts from her talking about what she wanted to do with this person in bed. She unsent the messages but the person says they saw the messages in their notifications as they arrived before she unsent them. When they asked her about the messages she started apologizing profusely saying it was a lapse in judgement. But this person, who, again, was close enough to the husband to organize an intervention to help their marriage, didn't say a word about the texts to the husband. So how much help do they want to provide is what I'm wondering. When they told me about it I just said to be careful, or they might end up in a situation raising the kid too. I don't think they understood what I was trying to say tbh. I'm not even sure why I know all this personal info about people I'm not close to. I can't go to the husband with hearsay accusing his wife, and I don't know why the person that has the firsthand accounts hasn't done so already tbh.

So yeah I agree with the people saying it's mean to share such personal info with millions of people that will dissect every word. It's weird and off putting at best. It's also why I think she's not talking about Joe and his potential mental health in the song, but it's another song about the label stuff. She was carrying the label to success, to be worth so much in the end, she pulled out new songs and ideas and marketing strategies every time the label was drifting down, she (her albums) was (were) going down with the ship in spite of the quiet resentment because she's was the only one making the label stand out, unlike other labels that have a ton of big stars signed to them. The "how much sad did you think I had in me" and "you sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days" to me sound like the label was asking her to keep writing breakup songs even when she wanted to write other happy stuff, or explore other stories and ideas, just because they thought they figured out the formula for success. I think it may have been this way ever since she wanted to call Speak Now Enchanted. A heartbreak song vs a song about falling in love. If you'd like (albeit it's controversial) I could write up what I think might be older songs about this stuff later, I have to go work now lol

[flowerslut]

I know that you've written a bit about it in Roots, but I was wondering how you think Maria would react to Jasper finding a home and a family with the Cullens (and Bella) without the dire circumstances that caused her to visit in Roots? Like, imagine she's come to pay them a visit in Calgary to get Jasper back before it all went bad- what were her thoughts? And maybe she saw them again after Bella has been turned, maybe on purpose or maybe on accident- what would she think of Bella?? Sorry if this is a weird ask but I really love the way you write Maria and I'd love to hear your thoughts

well the guide tells us that maria "considers herself to be on good terms with [jasper]" and, to once again quote my beloved wife, maria thinks that jasper is that "lame friend who's a born-again vegan now." sure he's cringey but she thinks they're buds. it's incredibly funny because in the context of their history, this absolutely checks out! they didn't kill each other! or even try to! which can't typically be said for southern war alliances! sure, he defected like a little cowardly bitch baby thanks to that skank peter and that's super annoying and inconvenient, but their parting was as peaceful as it gets in her eyes.

we see this in midnight sun:

so we can speculate that she views him as useful, and for anyone to be useful in an active war zone then they have to be dangerous and smart, so I'm sure maria has some measure of respect for jasper, even if it's begrudging or mocking. and note that these ⬆️ are thoughts edward has years after the whole "we'd had to move immediately" debacle, meaning that, at least in the cullens' minds, maria 1) thinks of jasper as her favorite, 2) hates peter, 3) is still "undeniably dangerous," and 4) 100% has the ability to track the cullens down.

with all that being said: I'm sure maria finds the cullens intensely amusing, if not a little annoying. i've said before that I think she should get to fuck around with the cullens more (bat them around like a house cat with a mouse) and her visit in calgary is fun to think about because of how little information we get. "Jasper had politely asked her to keep her distance in the future" vs "Maria was undeniably dangerous" are such funny facts to present to the reader, side by side. it would only make sense to connect them and just assume that edward is doing a LOT of censoring in his narration there.

I'd love to think that maria did some fun spiteful murdery shit when she visited in calgary, but it's just as likely that she just did a Normal Vampire Murder™️ that somehow blew the cullens' cover! she's just from a completely different world!!! it's so FUN to think about!! for fic I love to imagine her not taking the cullens' "please dont hunt in town" requests (or any requests) seriously, the same way I love the idea of her setting up an opportunity for the cullens' to slip up (it was just intellectual curiosity okay! she was just doing an experiment! you can't blame a women in stem for being curious!)

as for her meeting bella? tbh that scene I wrote in roots pretty much sums up how I think their meeting would go. I don't believe that, even after everything she's learned, bella really understands how dangerous maria is, especially since the information she receives via edward (and the cullens) is usually pretty sanitized and censored. I'm positive jasper was censoring pretty heavily in eclipse. the "a nightmare, a monster of the grisliest kind" seems like the gnarliest admission we get, and it's so goddamn vague it makes me feral (in a good way, don't worry). but bella doesn't strike me as someone to be afraid or wary of maria in a way the rest of the cullens probably are, and that's because homegirl never gets all the facts/the full story! likewise, I think that maria is like "who is this dumb idiot" and "why have these other idiots clearly not filled her in" when she meets bella because anyone who isn't at least a little bit uneasy about her is either 1) hiding something or 2) a complete dipshit, and i'm sure she's seen enough of the cullens to know that they're a little short on sense.

[jxncywarrior]

Stranger Things characters and ships as Taylor Swift albums

Part Six: reputation

*Disclaimer: I’m tagging all the ships and characters featured. I’m gonna try not to be biased. MOST of these are strictly based on canon. No hate to ANY ships or shippers.*

…Ready For It?: Ronance (Robin’s POV)

“In the middle of the night, in my dreams. I know I'm gonna be with you so I'll take my time”

End Game: Jancy (Jonathan’s POV)

“Knew her when I was young. Reconnected when we were little bit older. Both sprung, I got issues and chips on both of my shoulders. Reputation precedes me, in rumors I'm knee-deep. The truth is, it's easier to ignore it, believe me. Even when we'd argue, we'd not do it for long. And you understand the good and bad end up in the song. For all your beautiful traits, and the way you do it with ease. For all my flaws, paranoia, and insecurities. I've made mistakes, and made some choices that's hard to deny”

Just all of Ed Sheeran’s verse tbh lmao

I Did Something Bad: Stancy (Nancy’s POV)

“He says, "Don't throw away a good thing.” But if he drops my name, then I owe him nothin'. And if he spends my change, then he had it comin'”

Don’t Blame Me: Mileven (El’s POV)

“For you, I would cross the line, I would waste my time, I would lose my mind. They say, "She's gone too far this time"”

Delicate: Jancy (Jonathan’s POV)

“Third floor on the West Side, me and you. Handsome, you're a mansion with a view. Do the girls back home touch you like I do?”

Look What You Made Me Do: Eleven to One

“But I got smarter, I got harder in the nick of time. Honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time. I got a list of names, and yours is in red, underlined”

So It Goes…: Jancy (Nancy’s POV)

“Cause we breakdown a little but when you get me alone, it's so simple. 'Cause baby, I know what you know. We can feel it”

Gorgeous: Ronance (Nancy’s POV)

“You should take it as a compliment that I'm talking to everyone here but you. And you should think about the consequence of you touching my hand in the darkened room. If you've got a girlfriend, I'm jealous of her but if you're single that's honestly worse”

Getaway Car: Stancy (Nancy’s POV)

“It was the great escape, the prison break. The light of freedom on my face but you weren't thinkin' and I was just drinkin'. While he was runnin' after us, I was screamin', "Go, go, go!" But with three of us, honey, it's a sideshow and a circus ain't a love story, and now we're both sorry”

King Of My Heart: Lumax (Max’s POV)

“Late in the night, the city's asleep. Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep. Change my priorities. The taste of your lips is my idea of luxury”

Dancing With Our Hands Tied: Byler (Will’s POV)

“I loved you in spite of deep fears that the world would divide us. So, baby, can we dance, oh, through an avalanche? And say, say that we got it. I'm a mess, but I'm the mess that you wanted”

Dress: Byler (Will’s POV)

“All of this silence and patience, pining in anticipation. My hands are shaking from holding back from you. All of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting”

TIWWCHNT: Eleven to One

“It was so nice being friends again. There I was giving you a second chance but you stabbed me in the back while shaking my hand”

New Year’s Day: Jancy (Nancy’s POV)

“Don't read the last page but I stay when it's hard, or it's wrong, or we're making mistakes”

Links to other parts of this series: Debut, Fearless, Speak Now, Red, 1989, Lover, folklore, evermore

[barkspawn]

lol then can we get "i love you, no matter what that means to you, i'm going to take care of you, even if you dont want me to" prompt from the romantic quotes prompt list with elliott? <3 i love your writing

Thank you, I'll never get used to the fact that people like my stuff. it's wild.

and tbh, I'm realizing the things I enjoy writing the most, which is suuuuuuuuuuuper helpful. so thank YOU and the others who send in prompts.

Amelia had been struggling for the past few weeks. Her depression took a turn for the worse when she heard of her father falling ill and after receiving a spiteful email from an old "friend" explaining how selfish and idiotic she was for leaving the city. It was hurtful enough to wear her down. 

Amelia was keeping up with the crops okay and was trying extra hard to make the animals happy. She knew he was picking on her, but when Shane visited with a new chick and made a comment about how the crops seemed small and dinky, she felt herself hit a low. She knew he'd feel horrible if he knew, so she decided not to tell him. 

Elliott was an entirely different situation. They'd been together for a year and a half and she couldn't stomach letting him see her like this. He knew something was wrong right away and decided to give her space for a few days, deciding today to be a little more persistent. 

Amelia looked down at her phone as it rang. She sat on the couch with her knees drawn to her chest, just staring at the rustic painting on the wall in thought. The third time the phone started to ring she sighed, answering the call. 

"Hello?" She winced, not even recognizing her own voice. 

"Hey, love," Elliott started, trying to keep his tone as normal as possible, even if he was sick with worry, "I've missed you. I was thinking I'll bring some food to you this evening. We'll curl up and watch a movie."

The idea seemed nice to her, but she genuinely believed it wasn't what she deserved. Before thinking, she spoke, "Actually, I wanted to talk to you, El. Can you come by soon?"

He paused for a long moment before answering, "of course. I'll leave now. I love you."

"I love you too," she responded too quickly, hanging up and letting tears fall as a sob escaped her. This is how it had to be. 

Elliot was a brilliant man with a bright and happy future ahead of him. She could not let herself be the one responsible for holding him back. It wouldn't be fair. She loved him with her whole being, which is why she had to stop this. He deserved so much more. 

After a moment, she stood to clean herself up, pacing until she heard his footsteps on the porch. He gave a light knock before opening the door, his smile brightening up the entire room. He looked as handsome as ever, a small container that could only be from the saloon in his hands. His smile and his general presence lifted her spirits a bit. For a moment, she wondered if this was a mistake. Quickly, she resolved that it needed to be done. It was for him, not her. 

Closing the door behind him, he set the food on the counter and moved to wrap his arms around her in a tight, loving hug that broke her heart. When she didn't hug him back, he pulled back, his hands on her shoulders. 

"Amelia? What's on your mind?" He searched her face, not oblivious to her tear-stained eyes and cheeks. She took a shaky breath and closed her eyes.

"Elliott, I don't think we should see each other anymore."

His hands fell from her shoulders as he looked over her face once more. Something was wrong and she wasn't okay. He knew that. Still, his heart ached. 

"I see," he responded after a long moment, "may I ask if it is something I've done or-"

"No, no, El," she interjected, tears unable to be stopped, "You've been perfect in every way.. I just can't keep doing this. I can't keep pretending I'm right for you when I'm so clearly not."

He flinched at that, cursing his own eyes for going misty, "if that is what you want, Amelia, I will not fight you. I am never far.. should you need me for anything."

He made his way to the door before stepping through, the sob that came from behind the door ripping his heart to pieces more than her leaving him ever could. 

His chest tight and his eyes red, he turned back to town. 

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

Elliott sat at the small fire outside of his shack, checking his phone for the millionth time before sighing and shoving it in his pocket. He poured the rest of the wine into his glass, noticing a dark figure at the end of the pier as he went to take a drink. When he focused, he saw it was Sebastian, sitting quietly on the edge. 

Elliott stood, glass in hand, and headed down the end of the pier to stand behind the younger man. 

"Sebastian, right?"

Sebastian looked up at him, sarcastic remark locked and loaded, but bit it back as he saw the man's face. Elliott was a little bit of a mess himself. Sebastian just nodded and stared back toward the ocean. 

"You.. you're Amelia's friend, aren't you?"

"I mean, yeah," Sebastian started, his expression twisted in confusion, "why, aren't you her boyfriend?"

Elliott looked down at his glass, tracing the rim, "as of this morning, no. I'm not."

Sebastian deflated, frowning as he moved aside for Elliott to sit. He really didn't care enough about Elliott in the equation, but about how Amelia was. They'd been best friends for a year and she was head over heels for this guy. 

"Sorry to hear, man," he stared ahead, his frown deeper still than usual. 

"Me too," Elliott started as he sat beside him, "I just.. I wanted to ask you," his voice was quiet, almost feeling guilty for asking, "have you spoken with her in the last few days?"

Sebastian turned to give the man a confused look before his expression softened, "yeah, I guess. She canceled plans we had and she said she wasn't feeling good. Why?"

Elliott pinched the bridge of his nose, "when I saw her today, it was like she was a different person," he started, voice still shaking, "she was cold and distant. But she looked like she hadn't been eating or something of the like," he paused again, turning to look at the other man, "I'm worried about her."

Sebastian's brow knit together as he stared, deep in thought, "and, if you're cool with telling me, what did she say?"

"She said she couldn't do it anymore. She told me it wasn't me and that I was great.. she said she wasn't right for me."

Sebastian sat and thought for a long moment, frowning before he sighed, "I know her dad is sick," Elliott nodded, his frown growing deeper, "and she got this letter from an old friend. She wouldn't tell me more.." Elliott sighed as Sebastian turned to look at him, "did she seem depressed? Like what you see in those shitty commercials, but real and not forced?"

Elliott thought for a long moment. He thought about every word she said, how she seemed so tired and thin, and how she looked and sounded. 

"Yeah, it was a lot like that."

"There's your answer, dude," he pulled out his cigarettes, "I'll check on her later, but she adores you. She was talking about it last week ."

Somehow, Elliott felt worse hearing that. He gave a small nod, taking a long drink of his wine, frowning as the dregs swirled around the bottom of his glass.

"Is it an awful idea to reach out to her the day she left me?"

Sebastian nodded, taking a long drag of his cigarette, "I'll swing by tonight. I have your number and I'll text you how she is. Swing by in the morning and just… do your poetic… artistic… romantic shit."

Elliott gave a small chuckle before shifting to stand up, "thank you, Sebastian. I'm very glad to have gotten your insight."

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

Elliott woke up earlier than he usually would have, gathering some different things to take with him to the farm. He created a care package of sorts, picking up her favorite hot tea, some ingredients for different meals he knew she loved, a pair of his most comfortable pajamas (as he couldn't go and buy her a new set before going over), and a journal. He had opened up to a few pages, writing little affirmations on some pages. 

He felt horrible for not recognizing how much she was suffering. He'd been there before, but not in a long time. Once he gathered everything, he sighed, heading toward the farm. 

As he made his way there, his confidence waned a bit as he grew closer. He hoped she wouldn't be mad at him for coming, but Sebastian's text made it pretty clear that Elliott coming over would help her, so it was the plan. He walked up the steps, taking his time before knocking lightly on the door. 

His heart dropped as he saw her open the door. She was exhausted and pale like she hadn't slept for days. 

"Elliott?" She started, her voice cracking. 

"May I come in?" He gestured to the bag he held with all of the stuff he had. She paused for a long moment before sighing and opening the door, allowing him to pass. 

"I'm not sure why you'd come," she frowned, her arms wrapping around herself, "I'm not your responsibility. You don't have to care anymore."

He gave her a gentle look as he placed the bag down before walking over to her, his voice quiet but firm, "Amelia, I can see you're struggling. Whether or not being with me is a part of you getting better, I love you, no matter what that means to you," he started, shifting to gesture to the bag, "I'm going to take care of you, even if you don't want me to. Because you should never be alone when you feel this way, no one should."

Her gaze fell to the floor as she failed to stop her tears from falling. After a long moment, she gave a small nod. 

"I'll never force it, but tell me if you should like a hug. Sometimes such a small– oof," he was cut off as she wrapped her arms around his waist almost too tightly. He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her back with as much emotion as he could show. He felt her shaking, like a string had snapped that was holding her up, leaving her a crying mess in his arms. His heart broke for her, but he was so glad he was here. 

They stayed like that for an incredibly long time before he pulled back to grab the pajamas from the bag and brought them to her.

"Go ahead and take a nice, hot shower. I'll make you some food. You can call me if you need me."

After a few hours, she had eaten, explained everything, and broke down once more in his arms. He just sat beside her, intently listening as she cried and spoke. She couldn't seem to look at him when she finished. 

"Amelia, that woman who sent that is no friend. She is simply jealous that you were able to escape and make a new life for yourself," he started, moving to take her hand but stopping himself, "and I'm so sorry about your father. If you'd like me to be, I'll be here every step of the way. If you want me to remain at a distance, Sebastian will definitely be here as well."

She wiped away a new wave of tears, letting herself lean into him once more, "I love you more than anything. I know it's not my place to say it, but I can't just not tell you how loved you truly are."

After a long moment, she stood on her toes and pressed a small, painfully gentle kiss to Elliott's lips. 

"I.. don't want to leave you, El..," she started, "I just can't stand the idea of holding you back or bringing you down.."

The small kiss gave him the push to take her hands in his, "you couldn't do either of those things if you tried. I'm right here if you still want me. And even if you don't, for that matter. I won't leave your side until I know that you're okay and happy. Now, would you like to watch a horrible movie?"

She cracked a small smile for the first time in days before pulling him into one more tight hug. 

"You deserve so much better than me, you know," she sighed, "I've always considered you out of my league, but-"

"None of that," he pulled back, hushing her, "you deserve the world and I intend on giving that to you, whether you believe me or not because I love you."

She stared up at him, her smile growing for the first time in days, "I love you, El," she shook her head, "thank you for not… giving up. It would have been the biggest mistake I'd ever made.."

"So you don't want to stop seeing me?" He couldn't help the hope in his voice, relaxing when she shook her head. He continued, "I'm happier to hear that than I can begin to show," he smiled and pulled back toward the couch, "now shall we watch shoddy animatronics try to fight each other?"

She laughed, the feeling almost unfamiliar, as she moved to curl up beside him on the couch with a blanket. 

This is where she belonged and she was endlessly glad he didn't give up on her. 

With people who care for her this much, how could she not see herself being okay?

She rest her head on his shoulder, laughing at the movie with her hand in his.

[bearsgrove]

✨ oc tag game wahoooo! ✨

aight so here's the tag game i wasn't tagged in but wanted to do and @gwynbleidd and @graveyaird convinced me that i should 😔 along with u two i tag @werecanidae and @sylkana and anyone else who feels like doing this 🐏

favourite oc - ok thats a very difficult and unfair question, i love all of them so so much, they all mean a lot to me for different reas– ravell. its a toss between ravell and kaz tbh but. ravell. ravell means Everything to me.

newest oc - probably avery? whom i dont talk about a whole lot because they are from the [redacted] Duology 🙃. if we consider an oc from 2 and a half years ago new lmao. listen, i havent been making new ocs much, i just had a period of time when i made a bunch. so avery is a very rare exception of a new oc. im honestly surprised she sort of.. stuck around and i genuinely love her a lot. she was made out of the need to play as a new h*wke because ive been playing as the same one since the dawn of time. she gave my game experience a much needed fresh air and some nuance too.

oldest oc - ravell. or the version of. ravell in sk/rim was very much based on an already existing original character and those two characters still somehow intertwine to this day. there are subtle differences but they are more or less the same person. but when it comes to ocs i talked about on here, which are usually just ocs for this or that game, excluding any original story ones then yeah its ravell.

meanest oc - lyrhis? i know i still present her on here as a dos2 oc but she is an original story oc and i only put her in dos2 because 1) it felt like it would fit her 2) she is important to me and i wanted to be able to still talk about her on here without feeling like she doesnt fit in because she isnt from a game lol. i think her being "mean" is more about her being generally very otherwordly, inhuman and therefore aloof - which can get interpreted as mean i guess - because her perception of things is very different. calling her "mean" even feels weird because that word implies this sort of.. human meanness, spitefulness, generally being malicious for some reason. if anything calling her "mean" is maybe an understatement. she is just kinda cold-blooded, cruel, ruthless. ok you know who is actually a mean oc. evan. he is the opposite of what i just said about lyrhis. he isnt cruel or cold-blooded, but he is spiteful, malicious and can cause a lot of harm with only his words and need for revenge or simple spite. i think that to be mean one still has to be human, its a human trait. and he is human, there is a reason for why he is like that. lyrhis isnt human in the first place.

softest - hera 😔 literally my only normal oc. and she spends a lot of time in the sewers, talks to her rats and overall is a bit Odd but. she is the least evil out of my ocs and carries the least amount of baggage lmao. sure she has been through shit but she is the only oc that turned out "fine" after her personal trauma. but other than that she is very compassionate, considerate and has a strong moral code

most aloof/standoffish - well idk. its a toss between lyrhis i guess for reasons i already mentioned and then wren. which is quite a difference lmao. those two come to mind first but then also ravell, ives and avery. eh, most of my ocs probably seem standoffish, its one of their most common traits. but in conclusion i would say wren? if only because wren is actually a lot like hera, my other more or less only normal oc with an actual moral code and someone who has other people's interests and feelings in mind. but unlike hera wren outwardly appears very cold and most people would describe them as aloof. they are simply distant and keep to themselves but definitely are not internally aloof, they feel a lot, they simply don't show it. but the aloofness of others (ravell, ives, avery…) definitely comes from a lack of emotional intelligence as well as simply being a reserved bunch in general

dumbest oc - probably ravell :( if we compare their general Knowledge about things with my other ocs they are definitely the dumbest. but they are not Stupid. i think them being dumb can just be summed up into them not Knowing many Things and acting/speaking without thinking. they dont do much thinking. which can lead to them making mistakes because they most often act on impulse. they are rational, they can be very smart and cunning, but also they do strike me as the dumbest of my ocs sometimes

smartest oc - hmmm. cant decide between lyrhis, evan, nate and kaz. leaning towards kaz fsr, even though outwardly he would appear as the dumbest out of this group. but i think the other 3 while being smart are also just generally very learned and academically smart. but kaz has that natural smartness about him. idk how to explain my brain power ran out half way into this tag game ngl

horniest - evan.

oc you'd bang - hmmmmm i cant decide between "all of them" and "none of them". like. i know most of them are very hot and right up my alley (i mean I made them) but at the same time. they have way too many similarities with me for me to be able to comfortably say that i would fuck them lmao. i know who i wouldnt tho 100%- ravell. i think over the years they became too much of their own person. like ravell is real to me ok. and i respect them too much as a person to say something like that lol. ok well. i just realized something. i change my statement to "all of my ocs that are women". i figured out why i didnt feel comfortable saying "all of them" lmao. because not all of them identify as women!

oc you'd be best friends with irl - kaz. kaz has unironically been my best friend for as long as i can remember. i think that even when i was making him at the back of my mind i would think "ok who do i need? thats who this character is" and back then i needed a friend! as cringe as it is. one good friend. who would be just my person. and no one else's. ok my abandonment issues are showing again and recently i'm noticing way too many past signs and patterns