#but u know. it was a little bit deep for me

[harksness]

No Going Back CH 2

A/N: ok stick with me thru this there's gonna be some delicious Agatha moments soon but I gotta set up some tension first thank u <3

WC: 2.8k

Your mother lies below your little feet. She's twisting, turning, the carpet scrunching under her body with her desperate movements as she looks up at you with wide, pained eyes.

And there he is above her. A man that's so familiar, but you don't know what he looks like. Tall and looming, just completely a shadow.

With her final breath she choked out a spell and reaches a weak hand towards you, and you feel her warm, soft magic washing over you in comforting waves.

That was the moment you realized that everyone has a piece of themselves in their magic. As the shadowed man scooped you up you screamed, slapping and scratching but too powerless to stop him.

His magic felt like a knife, a sharp, serrated edge. Like barbed wire dragging over your skin as his magic tore into you, then tore deeper and deeper, down into something that wasn't even a physical part of you. He was reaching for your magic. That untapped well of vibrant blue power inside of you, he was clawing and tearing his way through you to get to it.

But he couldn't cut deep enough. He couldn't reach.

He kept trying to force it deeper, you could feel the pull as he kept desperately trying to rip it from your chest like your beating heart, but he just couldn't reach it.

Your mind went numb as you screamed and cried until your voice was gone, just a desperate wheeze as you waited for it to end.

He didn't stop trying for a long time.

You just stared at your mother, her wide, lovely eyes that had long since gone cold. Waiting for that serrated edge to finally cut deep enough and sever that last little string tethering you to reality.

But it never did.

And he's still waiting. Still trying.

Your eyes fly open and a groggy shout bursts past your lips as you jolt forward, desperately trying to escape your nightmare. Your chest heaves, deep breaths tearing through your throat as you take in your surroundings.

The light shining through the window blinds you for a moment and intensifes the pain pounding against your skull. Your rapidly thrumming heart starts to slow at the realization that you're safe.

You take calculated, deep breaths to calm yourself down. With each one you feel it eating away at the fear and anxiety, swallowing hard as you do your best to shrug off the nightmare.

This is a normal part of your morning routine.

That shadowed man comes to you in your dreams every night. Even on the rare occasions where he's not the main focus, you see him and feel his presence. Standing in the background, lingering in a doorway, always watching you, always waiting to finish what he started all of those years ago when he left you for dead in your own home next to your mother's body.

That man haunts your dreams and ensures you never forget what happened. He makes sure you know that he hasn't forgotten about you.

That he's still waiting.

The door opens and you turn your head to the source of the noise, eyes fluttering desperately at the pain crushing around your skull and throbbing against your shoulder. Your stepmother enters the room, and you feel as if you can breathe a bit easier at the sight of her.

Her eyes widen when she sees you sitting awake and staring at her.

"Oh thank goodness, you're awake!"

She rushes to your side, fussing over you and your injuries.

"How do you feel?"

You groan out in pain, cradling your damaged arm to your chest.

"Not good.. Why does everything hurt.."

You wheeze out and she's moving to the nightstand as you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to get rid of the pain in your skull and the spinning all around you.

"You have a concussion.. And a sprained shoulder, sweetheart.. Here, take these."

You open your eyes just a crack to look at her and you notice her holding out two little pills in her palm and a glass of water. You suddenly realize how thirsty you are as you take the medicine from her, downing them and the full glass of water in a few greedy gulps. She takes the glass from you when you're done.

That's when you feel stable enough to really be able to take in your surroundings, having adjusted a bit to the pain suffocating you in dull throbs. You're in the guest bedroom of your childhood home, but it feels more like a hospital with the blank white walls, white bed frame, and white sheets and blankets. The only bit of color is in the wooden floor, dresser and door, but that's about it. It makes you a bit uneasy as you clear your throat.

"What happened?"

Your voice is scratchy as you speak but she doesn't look at you, eyes set firmly on the sheets covering your lap and features heavy with upset.

"Your father will explain that."

She grumbles, disappointment lacing her voice as she goes to stand.

"Please.."

You beg, mustering up the most desperate look you can. She finally looks at you, guilt heavy on her features as she sighs out your name softly, smoothing down her skirt as she goes to sit on the edge of the bed.

"I'm sorry. Please know that I wasn't happy about how your father decided to go about this. I tried to talk him out of it, but, well.. You know how he gets."

You nod your head in understanding. The two of you have never been exceptionally close, she has four of her own biological children to worry about, but she's always looked out for you and been kind. She's even stood up to your father for you when it was needed. You've always been grateful for her.

"I understand.. I know him and I know you.. Please, tell me."

Reluctantly, she starts, analyzing your features carefully with every word that slips past her lips.

"Look.. I think this would be best coming from your father. But I know how bad he is about handling these sorts of things, so I'm going to give you a precursor..."

She twists her hands nervously while you hold your breath, waiting for her to speak, your mind running a mile a minute over every possible thing she could be about to say.

"Someone has been targeting the firstborns of the elder families.."

Your heart drops into your stomach.

"We think-"

"It's him?"

You can't help but interrupt her, panic freezing your insides as fear numbs your mind. Carefully, she nods her head.

"It could be.."

She says softly, speaking to you like she's handling the worlds most breakable glass as you seize up.

"We don't know for sure yet.."

You don't hesitate a second longer, that fear flinging your mind into panic mode as you push the blankets off of your lap and swing your legs over the side of the bed. You hiss out in pain, your shoulder heavy and aching and your skull throbbing, but you push through it. Your stepmother is trying to stop you, but not knowing how to physically do so without hurting you more.

A wave of dizziness washes over you once your bare feet are planted on the cool wooden floor, the room spinning as she keeps you steady. You balance yourself on the nightstand, cluttered with water and the contents of a first aid kit as you heave out breaths, desperately trying to keep your head from spinning as you sway on your feet.

"Please! Sit back down!"

You squeeze your eyes shut, ignoring her words. She yells out as the table collapses under your weight, tipping over and dumping all of its contents onto the ground with a prolonged crash. By some miracle you stay standing, and she's rushing to clean up the mess once she has you balancing against the bed.

The second she's turned away from you, you're clumsily dashing for the door.

It bursts open, and you immediately find the wall opposite the door to keep you steady as you venture down the hallway. Pressing your palm into the smooth wall over and over with each clumsy step, you do your best to support yourself as your stepmother calls from behind.

You know where you'll find your father. He never leaves his damn office. He's always either there, or away on some sort of business trip for his stupid coven.

Anger seeps through your body with every heavy breath, or maybe it's just the nausea.

That's where he was when your mother died. When you were attatcked. On a trip.

You freeze when you hear your fathers voice on the other side of the door. Your features twist in anger as you raise your good hand and aggressively pound your fist against the door, rattling it on its hinges with every rough slam.

The door flings open a moment later and there he is.

"What are you doing!?"

He gasps, shock evident in his voice when he sees you swaying on your feet, eyes flickering over your body as he takes in just how battered you are.

"Tell me what the fuck is going on!"

Your voice booms off the walls. It would've startled you if you were able to think coherently, but your mind still feels clouded and fuzzy. You've never sounded like this before, so much rage and fear seeping into every syllable that bursts past your lips.

Your chest heaves, and your face feels hot as you wait for him to reply, the only sound you hear is the pounding on your head.

"Is he back?"

This time, you sound weaker as your voice cracks and breaks into a soft sob, your features twisting with fear. You can tell he's barely suppressing a look of annoyance as he sighs, stepping out into the hallway.

"We don't know. I promise I would tell you if we knew for certain."

His voice is soft as he speaks, folding his hands in front of him. He regards you with soft eyes, ones you rarely get to see. In this moment, you're seeing a version of your father you wish you knew. You let out a shaky breath.

"Okay, so, what was last night about, then? Wanna dump more trauma onto my plate? Give me more reasons why I can't sleep at night?"

You feel one of your knees trembling beneath you as your body struggles to hold your weight, voice soft and shaky with the effort to hold back your impending sobs. He sets his lips into a firm line, and you hear your stepmother rushing down the hall to join you.

You close your eyes for a moment, breathing deeply as you do your best to steady yourself. You need to be coherent to discuss this. So you clench your shaking fists, and breathe.

"What does this have to do with what happened last night?"

Your voice is more firm and steady. Your stepmother and father cast their gazes to each other at your words.

"Just tell her."

Your stepmother demands, glaring at your father. He let's out a deep sigh.

"Well.. I can't personally keep you safe. The Elder Coven and I are going to figure out what to do about this man. So.. You need someone powerful who can dedicate around the clock service to protecting you."

It feels as if he's racing to get the words out, no emotion behind his monotonous tone. Your features scrunch up in confusion, not understanding anything but catching on to what he's trying to say.

"Okay.. You make that sound like it's Agatha Harkness but it's obviously not. She's a power hungry maniac too, you know.. That's kinda her whole thing. That's why she attacked me last night."

You scoff the words out, deadpan. Silence weighs heavy around the house, only being cut through by the ticking of the old grandfather clock in the hallway until your father speaks up, voice soft.

"Not if we force her into a pact bound by magic."

He looks just a bit too smug and proud of himself, while for you it feels like your entire world is being flipped on its head. You gape at the man, unbelieving of what you just heard.

"No. No way... Are you fucking kidding me!?"

You should have known better. Being away for so long has distanced you from just how manipulative this man really is. Of course he would do something like this "to protect you", but you can see through all of his layers of bullshit. You don't trust him or Agatha for a second.

"You can come out, Agatha."

You freeze at his words. There's some shuffling, then there she is, pulling the door to your fathers office open as she goes to lean against the doorframe. She's wearing normal clothes now, a purple sweater and her hair tied up in a bun that's plopped on top of her head. She raises her hand and gives you a small wave by wiggling a few of her fingers.

"Hiya hun."

That's when you go absolutely fucking ballistic.

"Oh fuck no!"

You shout, shaking your head. Immediately, your father and stepmother start rushing out words to try and calm you down, but you're having none of it.

"You seriously expect me to be able to trust her with my life!? The woman who just gave me a concussion and sprained my shoulder?!"

Your voice strains as you yell, gesturing towards the brown haired woman. Her eyes widen and she makes an awkward face, blue eyes shifting around the hallway as she avoids your gaze.

"What were you going to do if she tried to kill me? What if she got away with the necklace that keeps me alive! Hm!?"

You hook your thumb against the chain around your neck, pulling the pendant upwards to draw attention towards it.

"That wasn't going to happen. I was monitoring the situation very closely, we just needed to wait long enough to ensure that she was trapped and fully distracted-"

Groaning loudly in frustration, a wave of nausea washes over you as you begin to sway on your feet. You open your mouth to keep ranting and raving, unaware of just how lightheaded you're getting as you blink rapidly. Your father steps towards you, reaching out a nervous hand.

"You know what? Never mind. This is bullshit. There's no use arguing with a narcissistic prick like you."

You point to your father aggressively, stumbling over your own two feet and your stepmother gasps, rushing to your side. The carpet is scratchy against your skin, the dull, white walls blurring and smudging together with the little bit of color surrounding you.

"You need to go lay down-"

"Don't pretend like you care about me now! After leaving me alone when mom died, after putting my life in danger, stop pretending like you care about me other than what I offer you as the firstborn of this stupid fucking family!"

You shout, the words tearing through your throat and spit flying wildly as you gesture your good hand around to accent your words. You're out of breath, heaving deeply as you desperately try to look more composed than you actually are. You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment as your father and Agatha's features start to blur with the walls.

"I feel like I shouldn't be hearing any of this-"

Agatha speaks awkwardly, but you're quick to cut her off.

"Shut up!"

Your voice is unrecognizable, anger twisting the words as they tear out of your throat. You point an angry finger at her to accent your shout, and she quirks a shocked eyebrow curiously at your harsh tone, pressing her lips together and raising her hands to signal her surrender. Your stepmother goes to guide you away from them, muttering soft reassurances to try and calm you down. You're stumbling on your feet as she guides you back down the hall.

Turning your head to peek over your shoulder, you spit one last vitriolic line at your father.

"If I end up dead, it's all your fault."

Your nightmares are coming back to life, and your biggest fears are being turned into a reality. That shadowed man really has been watching you all this time. And he's coming back to finish what he started all those years ago.

And all you can do is watch and wait helplessly.

[whimsicalcotton]

I'm gonna be honest I just love the way you write amberpricefield so much. I've never even played the game. I love them so much. If you're still taking requests please pick your favorite.

skdfjsdhk thank you anon 🥺🥺🥺

thank u also for the free reign! here is some incredibly stupid Everybody's (Actually) Fine AU nonsense for u <3

--- --- ---

50: Nicknames/Pet Names

There’s a list of things other than “Max,” that Rachel and Chloe call her that probably runs a mile long. 

Chloe likes to stretch her name into a wide variety of different shapes — some more ridiculous than others — and though there apparently exists some method to her madness no one else seems to know quite what it is. Mad Max, Maximilian, Maximum Turbo-Force Dork. Max could fill up a whole notebook with just those, let alone the pet-names. Chloe was once solely an ironic user of the word babe, so Max has been told, but she’s long since fallen into the trap of habit and now throws it around far more casually than Max can handle. 

Rachel has also grown fond of playing around with Max’s name, but she leans more towards the terms of endearment. Max has lost count of the amount of times she’s gone all red in the face after being called honey or love or darling. There was even that one time Rachel had the audacity to call her babygirl in the middle of the dorm hallways, which made her fluster so hard she’d immediately started babbling some lame excuse about the time before literally running all the way back to her room. 

All this is to say: Max has been thinking it’s time for some payback.

So with devious plots in mind from the moment she gets up — perhaps Rachel is starting to rub off on her a bit — Max makes it her day's mission to give the two of them a taste of their own medicine. 

She catches Rachel first. Lingering in the dorm halls, fittingly enough, knee deep in yet another unnecessarily tense looking party planning conversation with Victoria. Of course, Victoria is often the only one who suffers in a conversation with Rachel, so when she turns to see Max approaching her expression shifts easily into one of earnest excitement.

“Morning, Max,” she greets, apparently feeling generous in her sparing Max from having to get flustered in front of Victoria. Her mistake. 

Max takes a final little breath for courage, and goes for the metaphorical kill. “Good morning, sweetheart. Am I seeing you for lunch today?”

She tries not to smile so hard watching Rachel’s cheeks turn red.

“Y-Yeah,” Rachel answers, looking momentarily horrified by her stammering before straightening up. “Yeah, sure, lunch. I’m there. See you then.”

As Max is taking her leave, hardly capable of stopping herself from skipping the whole way, she overhears their chatter resume. 

“Bitch, didn’t you literally just tell me we were gonna go over this shit again at lunch?” Victoria snaps, incredulous. “Oh my god, you’re down bad. That was pathetic. Well played, Amber, truly.”

“Shut the hell up, Chase,” Rachel hisses back. “Tell anyone what just happened and you’ll be on your own supplying party booze for the rest of the year.”

Max gets Chloe later on, during the aforementioned lunch hangout that Rachel is apparently snubbing Victoria to be present for. 

She’s in the midst of chowing down on some of the sweets Max brought along, getting bread crumbs and icing sugar all over herself in the process. By the time she’s done, there are patches of powdery white and a hint of jelly still adorning her face. Rachel tries to hide a bout of snorting giggles upon looking at her.

“Jesus, you’d think we never feed you,” she says, still covering her mouth with one hand and handing Chloe a napkin with the other. 

“Yeah,” Max agrees, taking the napkin in Chloe’s stead and reaching up to wipe off her face. “You’re making such a mess of yourself, baby.”

Chloe’s eyes go wide as saucers as she squeaks out an astoundingly unsure, “I sure am.” She lets Max finish cleaning her off before seemingly coming to her senses and going even redder than Rachel had earlier. 

Speaking of, Rachel’s gone a little pink again herself. She looks over at Max with a gaze as hungry as it is curious. “Man, you’re out for blood today, aren’t you?” 

“Just having a bit of fun,” Max assures with a smile, watching on in unabashed satisfaction as Chloe devolves into a grumbling, mumbling mess hiding her face in her hands.

[the-knife-consumer]

While im thinking about women characters being assigned their fandom roles the way the pikmin fandom outside of tumblr treats brittany is fucking horrible. Whats wrong with you people its a children's videogame character.

[katierosefun]

my cancelled-able trait from the queer community would be that i really apparently love messy endings. i love u happy endings and i also love u such sad, messy, ambiguous endings . . . i love u endings where u have this weird pit in the bottom of your stomach because you know that there's love here but u have no idea what to do with it and u just have to deal with the fact that someone is profoundly affecting your life and you're not gonna get closure from it anytime soon . . . i love u queer love stories where it's really just "u don't always get to see the sunshine and rainbows at the end of it . . . sometimes all that's left is just one big question mark and the quiet hope that they get their shit together" . . .

[bunnihearted]

sometimes i truly do feel so isolated and alienated because even if people on here are lonely and sad they still have friends and partners and they're capable of having jobs and getting educations ... and im like ok wow im like actually the only one who doesn't just "feel" those things but also is completely worthless and insignificant. cool 👍

[this-should-do]

barney canoes every blunt hes given and gordon is extraordinarily bold when hes high

bonus/alt ending

anyways everyone thank these tags on my last weed boys post for this post

[dizzybevvie]

"not pro-ana just using the tags" "pro-ana only for myself" Ok but you see how you're still hurting people right. you see how you're perpetuating this mindset for other people by posting about it right.

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

HI HI MAC. I JUST WATCHED THE NEW GEMINI VIDEO (was going 2 watch it this morning but i forgor 💀) HOLYYYY SHIT i am so creeped out EAUGH it was so good. creepy faces fuck me up AUGHHH. many thoughts head full. also i apparently love drawing characters as teru vash plush bc i started drawing teru vash and then realized oh iam just. drawing patton. so then i drew el woowoo 2 keep him company!! holds out my hands and places these guys in ur palm <3

OH FUCK LITTLE GUYS...... ohbtheyre so perfect. squeezing them like stress balls. <3333

UGH THE GEMINI HOME VIDEO. GOD. I KNOW. i rewatched it like 3 times this morning. that bit after it says the deal is broken with the body that gets progressively more shriveled up made me feel soooo fucking crawly. also the comeback of the jack dialogue. fuck yes. jack do you see me... i have become something else... im still in here dont leave me you bastards..... god that bit was so cool. the face jn the window at the end was what absolutely broke me last night tho like holy fuck thay shit gets me so bad

[defectzim]

See the thing THE THING IS. is that I have so many thoughts about iz characters BUT IDK HOW TO PUT THE WORDS IN A WAY THAT GETS IT. I don't have words but i have SOSO SO many SO MANY thoughts about literally every character.

[piplupod]

whyyyyy do people think disordered eating is healthyyyyyyy i am going to explode myself soon i cannot live around these people any more my god

[wordsgood]

in all the previous drafts of deep six, it's always lev or sevens who kills the gang's assassin leader guy, often in a sense that it's "for" chance, who was arguably the most abused/objectified by the guy, but it's never been chance himself. but there have been a couple characters who remind me a lot of chance and who DO get a moment of real catharsis and now........ i don't know! on one hand it would be SO satisfying to let chance finally seize his own agency and put that part of his life behind him with his own hands. but on the other hand it's soooooo Like Him that chance would prioritize his own security up to and past the point of freeing himself from his situation and only after the act was done by someone else would he realize that that could have been him. he could have done that. but he was afraid. he was so afraid, not of being hurt but of being hurt in new and unfamiliar ways, that he let go of that opportunity. I DON'T KNOW, i have and apparently always will have thoughts and feelings about chance's agency and i never know what to do with them!!!

[welcometogrouchland]

I'm on hiatus from thinking for the next while. Discursive and analytical fandom practices I love you so so much you are in everything I do, including the silliest of headcanons and comics but FUCK I am not equipped to think about. Anything right now

[gideonisms]

I think we need 2 kinds of romance: Dinner Dates and Deathless Devotion. That's not the same thing & acknowledging it's not could literally stop wars (prevent me from going into fics craving Deathless Devotion when the fic is about the characters Living A Normal Life)

[achilleslyre]

i see these ppl sometimes going on these massive rants about how ppl who ship xyz have zero reading comprehension or no critical analysis and i’m always just staring at those posts like 😑😑 cause it’s literally always just a silly little gay ship. like don’t get me wrong if u dislike it idgaf and u have every right not to like it. mass majority of the time *i* don’t like it or simply don’t care but. just block the tag bro? like if it seriously bugs u THAT much that ur saying u get genuinely pissed off every time u see it. just…. use the filters. i get not everyone tags their shit but lots do. block ppl that make that content a lot. idk what to tell you. like i get complaining about it if it was an actually problematic ship but mass majority of the time it’s literally two guys who are friends and also frankly look gay. yes blah blah blah friendships matter but also it’s rlly not that deep as long as the ship isn’t causing harm. some of y’all are simply just haters. sincerely signed, a hater.

[toastsnaffler]

man I think I fucked uuuuppppp a little 😭

[junkie-virus]

why does no one talk aboiy how scary wisdom teeth surgery is like guys wgat the gelll…..