#she is actually such a mess what the hell!

[7-deadly-cats]

killing me softly (part two)

kms masterlist | <- part one | part three (soon) ->

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!introverted!kook!reader

cw: swearing, y/n being an awkward mess, subtle and indirect mention of sexual themes

synopsys: it's the last year of high school and y/n is paired up with rafe cameron for a 2 week long project in art class. this wouldn't be a problem if y/n wasn't awkward as hell and well ... if there wasn't her big fat crush on him. could this be the beginning of a friendship or maybe even more? one thing was certain: rafe cameron's intense, impulsive, and complex in ways that weren't always for the better, and y/n's mind? that shit was even more tangled. but she hadn't spent seven years crushing on him from a distance just to let this chance slip through her fingers ... right?

summary of recent events: y/n and rafe were paired up for a 2 week-long art project. they agreed to meet during lunch break to start working on it. after y/n picked him up after PE, they headed for the school’s dining hall.

word count: 3.3k+

a/n: i don't have much to say for this one as it's just an immediate continuation of the last one but i'm very thankful for the likes and comments on the first part. i didn't expect any at all so a big thank you to everyone who decided to support <3 i hope you also enjoy this one as well :) (also super excited when i’ll get to future parts where y/n gets to be more silly :3)

Important: I started using dividers after chat convos that include more than one screenshot, so you guys know when to switch back to the written story. Yk you usually click on the image to get a full-screen mode to read the messages easier, so whenever the blue rectangle image pops up, you know when to back out. Makes it easier to avoid potential spoilers, hope that makes sense :P

The dining hall at Kildare Academy was moderately full. Most students’ classes were already over, and a lot of Kooks went to the restaurants down the street, even though the serving station offered fresh high-quality food.

Okay, fries weren’t exactly healthy but they probably made them from potatoes grown specifically for Kooks (yes, as a Kook yourself, you were their biggest hater).

Whatever. The dining hall wasn’t the reason your heart was about to explode in your chest.

No. You were having lunch.

With. Rafe. Cameron.

If someone had told you this morning, you would’ve laughed.

Because, hello??? Rafe had been your crush since you’d first set foot in Kildare Academy in fifth grade.

Okay, not exactly special—what Figure 8 girl hadn’t had a crush on Rafe at some point?

But that wasn’t the point. This whole ... thing just felt so surreal.

A crush had always been just that—a crush. You weren’t the type to walk up to a guy and say, Hey, you’re cute, let’s go on a date. That would mean putting yourself out there and making yourself vulnerable.

And the last thing you ever wanted was to be seen.

Not in a physical way. That was unavoidable. No, what scared you was someone actually seeing you, the parts of yourself you kept locked away.

Ew, that sounded so fucking dramatic.

So while your 11-year-old self was doing backflips of joy, your 18-year-old self was having a full-blown existential crisis.

Okay, maybe not that bad.

“You were right,” Rafe said, pulling you from your thoughts. He was sitting across from you, pushing his fork through his quinoa-veggie bowl.

You eyed him confused. “About what?”

Rafe nodded toward your fries, the corner of his lips tugging into a subtle smile. “I am a fries guy. Quinoa tastes like shit and rocks.”

You glanced at his bowl before meeting his gaze again, a knowing smile on your face. “I guess it’s the color. Red and black ones are usually more bitter and more firm than their white counterparts.”

Rafe raised a brow, amused. “As a quinoa expert, you could’ve warned me.”

Your cheeks heated. You kind of had, with that dumb joke outside the gym earlier. “I thought you already knew what it tasted like.”

“I do,” he shrugged, taking a bite of his bowl anyway. “Maybe I just didn’t want you to label me as the fries guy.”

Wait—was that a joke? And why did he care what you thought about him?

God, I suck at whatever this is.

So you just forced a chuckle and took a sip of your water.

…

…

...

Shit.

Now there was that awkward silence you always dreaded in conversations.

Okay, okay, stay calm.

Should I say something? Should I offer him my fries?

You almost laughed. Hell no, that’d be so weird. Plus the quinoa part of his bowl didn’t even take up a third of the whole meal.

You wished Cara were here. She’d know exactly what to say and how to act. She went on dates all the time, made out with guys at parties just for fun, and could hold a normal fucking conversation with a guy she was interested in.

“So, you like… a real artist or something?” Rafe asked absentmindedly, breaking the unbearable silence. “Since you picked Art as an elective?”

You looked up, quickly swallowing the bite of fries in your mouth before giving him a nervous smile. “Yeah, I mean—no, I wouldn’t call myself a real artist, not like Da Vinci or such.” You let out an awkward laugh. “I just draw sometimes when I’m bored.”

Jesus Christ, did he have to look at you like that? His blue eyes were drilling into your entire existence.

Rafe nodded. “Digital or traditional?”

You blinked at him, stunned.

How the fuck did Frat Boy Rafe Cameron know the difference between digital and traditional art?

Your expression made him smirk. And as if he had read your thoughts, he said, “My little sister Wheezie draws random shit on her iPad all the time.” He shrugged. “I don’t know, figured it was a thing—”

“No, I mean—yes, totally,” you blurted, immediately turning red because you just cut him off. “Most people start with pencil and paper but drawing on a tablet or iPad is just as legit. Um… so, yeah … I do both, to answer your question.” You smiled awkwardly.

Help, he would’ve had a more entertaining conversation with a rock.

Rafe barely raised a brow, a lazy smile on his lips. “It’s cool that you draw. Guess I got lucky having you as my partner for this project.”

WHAT.

Okay, everything’s chill.

NO, NOTHING WAS CHILL.

Is he flirting with me??? Is he just being nice ??? WHAT DOES ALL OF THIS MEAN.

What were you even supposed to reply to that?

Hahaha, thanks, did you know I made our Sims get married in eighth grade? Topper was your best man by the way.

WHAT THE FUCK, NO, STOP.

Whatever, just say something. Anything.

“Thanks,” you mumbled with an embarrassed smile, eyes fixed on your fries and salad.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Rafe lean back, pushing his half-eaten bowl aside. He shrugged. “Only sucks for you. Art’s not really my thing.”

No shit.

Also, what was that supposed to mean? Was he fishing for a compliment? Like Aww, no, come on, I’m sure you’re great at it.

Holy shit. Was Rafe Cameron secretly a pick-me guy? Were all these years crushing on him wasted?

“Yeah, I figured. Most people just take art class thinking it’ll be an easy A”, you said before he could say more and give you the ick.

OH my god, take it back, take it back—

When you saw his expression, you wanted to crawl into a hole and never come back. He looked… surprised? Confused? Maybe a little offended…?

Then the tension in his face eased. His lips twitched slightly before curving into a lopsided grin, making him look unexpectedly boyish.

“Shit, yeah. Guess that makes me ‘most people’”, he said with such ease, it was like you hadn’t just called him out.

How the hell did he manage to turn all your miserable attempts at a normal conversation into something so smooth? If you were in his place, you would've already walked out and dropped art class.

Yo, Mr Smith, this chick you paired me up with, she’s got the social skills of a dead fish.

This was so frustrating. It wasn’t like you were socially incompetent—not really—but around him, your brain just seemed to completely shut down.

“That’s not what I meant,” you said, furrowing your brows, annoyed at your own nervousness.

“Nah, it’s true,” Rafe replied, shrugging. Then he looked at you, a teasing edge in his voice. “So, if your art grade tanks, you know who to blame.”

Okayyy, he was either trying to get on your good side or looking for a smooth way out of this project—and you weren’t sure which was worse.

You swallowed your last fry and gave a chuckle. I sound like a fake ass bitch. “I’m sure you'll manage. Art is not about drawing perfectly — it’s more about the ideas and how you approach them.”

Jesus, you sounded just like Mr. Smith.

Rafe’s lips twitched into a cocky smirk. “Alright, then I guess you’ll have to help me be more creative.”

...

HUH?

OKAY. I MEAN SURE.

Be for fucking real, did he even realize what his words did to you?

Of course, he did—he probably flirted with girls daily. Or was he just lucky to be born with full charisma stats?

Probably both.

God, this was so embarrassing. Your face probably screamed HI CAN YOU MARRY ME, and to him, you were just some random Kook girl he was stuck with for a boring art project.

Okay, wait no.

Now YOU sounded like a pick-me.

“Yeah, we’ll see,” you said, cheeks pink, before clearing your throat to change the subject. “Okay, so… maybe we should start brainstorming some ideas? Like a mind map or mood board or something?”

Rafe leaned forward, crossing his arms on the table, and you had to fight the urge to glance at his biceps which flexed slightly as he moved. “Mood board? You talking about Pinterest type shit?”

Okay, wow, Rafe was absolutely not the type of guy you thought he was. Did he know about this stuff from Wheezie? Or some friends-with-benefits girlie?

Um, no, Y/N, none of your business.

You gave him a quick nod. “Yeah, something like that. We can also just start by writing stuff down.”

Rafe shrugged in agreement. “Okay.”

Okay.

He looked at you expectantly.

Ugh, did he really expect YOU to be the one taking notes?

Well, crush or not, he was still just a guy, after all.

You reached for the iPad in your bag, grabbed the Apple Pencil, and opened the Notes app.

As you scribbled down today’s date and gave the note a title, Rafe leaned in even closer, glancing at your screen. “Is this the iPad you use for drawing?”

He was so close now, his woody-aquatic aftershave filling your nose, giving you a strange feeling in your chest … and a very special part in your lower body.

“Yeah,” you replied shortly.

“Show me something then.”

“No.”

HUH?

“No?” Rafe’s gaze flicked from the screen to your flushed face, his lips curling into a crooked grin. There was a cocky glimmer in his gaze.

Good heavens, up close his eyes looked even more beautiful. They were the kind of blue people wrote bad poetry about. To you, they were a pretty contradiction—cold in color, warm in the way they lingered on your own eyes.

Heart racing, you looked away and laughed nervously. “I mean… maybe we should focus on the project first, you know, time pressure and all.”

With an amused scoff, Rafe leaned back again, glancing at his phone (wow, rude) for a second before saying, “To the boring part then."

Somehow it felt like you'd scratched his ego.

Girl, how could you mess up this badly? He probably thought you were some pretentious nerd now.

“So… do you have any ideas?” You twirled the Apple Pencil in your fingers, just praying for this painfully long lunch break to end.

Rafe pressed his lips together, scratching his jaw. The glass of his Rolex reflected a spectrum of lights under the ceiling’s lights. “Uh… dunno. What’s the prompt again? A modern take on the Greek gods?”

“A reinterpretation,” you corrected — then realizing you sounded like a know-it-all, so you quickly added, “but yeah, a modern version could definitely count.”

He nodded absentmindedly, fingers drumming on the table. “Okay, so…", he gave a dry laugh and ran a hand over his face. "Shit, what a stupid prompt."

You chewed the inner part of your cheeks. Okay, he clearly had zero interest in spending his free period working on some elective class’ project with you.

But it had been his idea to meet during lunch, you reminded yourself.

Forcing a smile, you offered, “We can always do this later. We still have two weeks.”

Rafe raised a brow. “You got plans or something?”

Oh. Guess that didn’t go over well.

You shook your head. “No, but if you’re not feeling it—”

“I’m not,” he cut in, his fingers stopping their steady rhythm against the table. “But we’re already here, so.”

That didn’t sound very motivated.

“Yeah, I guess”, you said, cringing at the sudden bitterness in your tone.

By the shift in Rafe’s expression, he must have noticed but before he had a chance to comment on it, you quickly picked up on what he’d said earlier. “So, a modern version of Olympus sounds fun. Maybe we can make it about the gods’ roles in today’s society or something like that.”

Rafe eyed you quietly, his expression impossible to read. He then tilted his head, scratching his nose. “Yeah, I guess. Maybe Zeus as the CEO of Olympus Industries or some shit. He’s the big boss, right? And everyone else just kinda works for him.”

Your lips curled into a soft smile. A corporate structure? Why were you not surprised.

“What?” He looked genuinely confused.

You shook your head, cheeks heating up again. “Nothing, that’s… that’s good.”

He raised his brows, a challenging tone in his voice. “You think it’s crap.”

“No,” you replied quickly, then adopted a more serious expression. “Really, it’s a nice take. Maybe his wife — Hera I mean — could be his girl boss PR manager, always cleaning up his scandals?”

A grin tugged at his lips, and with that, the weird tension in the air seemed to fade. “Shit, isn’t she also his sister? Well, yeah, guess she’s gotta cover up his dozen affairs. That guy’s a huge player.”

Okay, real talk—where did he get all this information from? He really didn’t seem like the guy to be interested in greek mythology.

It was cute though.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “You seem to be an expert in this field.”

He scoffed amused, leaning back into his chair. His eyes mustered you with a strange mix of entertainment and irritation. “You think I'm a fuckboy or some shit?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. Huh? What did he mean—

…

Did he-- ... OH SHIT.

A revolting feeling spread in your stomach and your cheeks probably invented a new shade of red.

WHY ON EARTH HAD YOU PHRASED IT LIKE THAT?!

Some evil gods or spirits must be messing with you right now because there was no way this situation could get any more awkward.

Frantically, you shook your head. “What? I… oh my god, no. NO! I was referring to the Greek gods. Not… you don’t give off such vibes. I mean, it’s none of my business anyway.”

Hey, if there’s a sniper out there, please take me out.

In your mind, you already estimated the cost of moving to another country. Canada had pretty landscapes and New Zealand--

A laugh escaped his lips — cocky, yet carrying a certain warmth. It made your heart stop and race at the same time.

“Relax,” he said bemused, leaning forward with his arms crossed, biceps flexing again. “People have said worse things to my face.”

No, this didn’t sit right with you.

You shook your head again, daring to meet his eyes. “No, I’m serious, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just … surprised about your knowledge of Greek mythology.” You froze, realizing this also sounded stupid. “Not that I took you for clueless…” Shit. You sighed. “It was stupid of me to phrase it like that and I don’t want you to think I take you for a fuckboy. It’s a shitty term anyway.”

Your nerves were going crazy and you fidgeted with the case of your iPad, waiting for his response.

Rafe silently STARING at you didn’t help at all. He seemed … surprised, maybe a little perplexed even.

SAY SOMETHING PLEASE.

“Alright”, he finally said, his usual cocky expression returning to his face. He slightly shifted in his seat, avoiding your gaze for just a second but long enough for you to notice. “Guess I picked up a bit from Wheezie when she had to do a presentation for school or whatever. She couldn't shut up about it. Shit was annoying as hell.”

For a moment, you didn't know what to respond. Why wasn't he offended? Why didn't he mock you for being so awkward?

You smiled, trying to relax your nerves. “Sounds like we could use her little expert knowledge on this project.”

Rafe gave a low chuckle. “Well, I believe we’ve already got a little expert right here”, he said with a crooked smile, his eyes burning a hole into your soul.

Oh. My. God.

The teasing edge in his voice made your brain shut down. This had to count as flirting, right? RIGHT?!

You chuckled nervously, cheeks a deep shade of red, and placed the Apple Pencil back on the screen. “Then I hope whatever I picked up from reading Percy Jackson will be enough.“

That's it, Y/N, you are officially banned from doing any more jokes.

-----------------------------------------------

In English class, you could finally breathe again.

Your suffering was over.

During the rest of the lunch break, Rafe and you had talked about some more ideas. Gladly, you hadn’t embarrassed yourself any further (if that was even possible because you’d definitely reached your peak today).

At the end of lunch, Topper had picked him up and they’d left for their own English class. Your goodbyes had been a little awkward but you’d managed.

Right now, you were grateful they didn’t attend the same class as you because you certainly didn’t want to listen to them laughing about what a weird ass person you were.

Okay, just breathe. I did it, it’s over.

You tried to concentrate on whatever Mrs. Andrade was talking about but only half the students truly paid attention.

Afternoons in the Outer Banks truly were a cruel thing.

So you decided to check your phone:

Sighing quietly, you put your phone away and rubbed your temples. A thousand thoughts raced through your mind, yet at the same time, it felt so empty.

Maybe I'm lucky and tomorrow I’ll wake up to a big newsflash: This just came in, Kildare Academy was reduced to ashes by a sudden fire.

But when had you ever been lucky?

Your phone buzzed again but you really didn’t feel like talking and thinking about Rafe anymore.

This guy had thrown you off track in just an hour but in the best and worst way possible.

And even though every part of you wanted to run from the thought of seeing him again — the way that uncomfortable feeling in your chest wouldn’t let up — there was still a small part of you that found yourself oddly eager to see him again, work with him on that stupid little project and listen to his stupid little laugh.

Because somehow in just sixty minutes you’d learned more about Rafe Cameron than you had in nearly seven years at Kildare Academy.

For instance, he was a lot kinder than you’d expected. Not that you’d ever thought he was like a high school movie bully or some shit but his occasional soft smiles and the way he didn't mock you when you'd said some stupid shit had definitely surprised you.

Plus he seemed to care about his little sister which was such an attractive attribute (and the bare minimum let's be honest).

All of this was so strange.

It sounded stupid but Rafe Cameron had always been just a concept to you. A crush you enjoyed looking at and maybe making up your own little idea of (and some scenarios to fall asleep to be for real).

But now he was... real and—

Bzzrt.

Seriously, Cara had class too—and with Ms. Langford, no less. And unlike Mrs. Andrade, she wasn’t exactly chill.

You picked up your phone again, expecting some delusional text messages—but the moment you saw the notification on your lock screen, your heart stopped.

No fucking way.

NO. FUCKING. WAY.

Holding your breath, you unlocked your phone, and the second your eyes landed on the profile picture, your heart took off in a full sprint. You didn’t even register Mrs. Andrade calling your name.

Because by some strange twist of fate, Rafe Cameron had gotten your number and decided to text you—after what you were sure had been your ultimate humiliation today.

You didn’t know whether to grin, cheer, or jump out of your seat—shit, maybe all three—but instead, you just sat there, wondering if there really was a god of luck and if he’d just decided to bless you.

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kms masterlist | <- part one | part three (soon) ->

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Taglist (open):

@ursogorgeous13 @my-name-is-baby @moneybaby07 @jjasmiineee

[thewitchandtheassassin]

Life, Death, and the Space in Between Part Four (Agatha Harkness x Reader x Rio Vidal)

Summary: Every action has a consequence.

Words: 1540

Warnings: Arguments, talks of death, canon death, language?

A/N: I'm alive. I haven't forgotten this. I also have Covid so forgive me. K, thanks!

-X-

Agatha’s feet carried her forward, through endless expanse as she searched for Nicky before—

Two small, thin arms wrapped around her, his head pressing against her stomach as he barreled into her. “Mama!” his voice cracked, burrowing deeper into her grasp.

Breath catching painfully in her chest, Agatha sunk to her knees, gathering him into her arms and just… holding him, silent tears streaming down her face. He smelled just like she remembered—of earth and rain and everything good in her world. Everything good she’d ever done.

-X-

Trembling hands caressed your face, wiping away sweat and tears as your breathing grew shallow, lips paling.

“W-what’s happening?” Teen asked nervously, flinching at Rio’s cold, unwavering glare.

“Which part? The part where you shouldn’t exist right now and neither should this godforsaken Road? How your powers just sent (Y/N) and Agatha into the realm of the afterlife because you can’t control your abilities? Or the part where—” Rio choked on her words, staring down at your unmoving body, “—Life is dying?”

Teen’s jaw dipped open, eyes wide with horror. “W-what?”

The other witches took a step back, sensing the brewing storm within Rio, eyes flickering between the boy and the scene before them.

“You, Teen, are Billy Maximoff. Son of the Scarlet Witch and the creator of the Witch’s Road. Congratulations, you’ve turned a con into a reality and in doing so, have damned Life to die because you briefly gave Agatha Harkness enough power to drag my other half into the fucking afterlife!” her words were sharp, cracking around the edges. “The living can’t come back from the afterlife! In letting Agatha have exactly what she wanted, Life made a choice… and she…”

Shaking fingers drifted along your cheeks.

“God, why did you do it?” she asked your still form. “You idiot. You stupid, wonderful, selfless idiot.”

“Wait, wait, hold up. (Y/N) is Life?” Jenn repeated, her eyes jumping between you and Rio. “So does that make you—”

“Death,” Lilia finished, though it wasn’t a question.

Tilting her head slightly, Rio’s eyes never left you. “Ding, ding, ding. Thank you for playing, witches. So, unless anyone has any useful ideas right this second, I need you all to shut the hell up while I think.”

For once…

The Road was silent.

And Rio had no ideas of how to solve this fucking mess.

-X-

Staggering towards Agatha and Nicky, you forced your body to keep moving, even as the afterlife demanded more from you the longer Agatha remained. Seeing her clinging to Nicky tugged at your heart and you hated yourself for what you were about to do. Dragging her away.

“Mommy!” Nicky gasped, peering over Agatha’s shoulder at you, his excitement fading into worry. “Are you okay? You don’t look okay.”

Stiffening slightly, Agatha glanced over her shoulder at you, eyes widening at the blackening veins pulsing on your face, the paleness of your lips, the shadows nipping at your heels…

“Hey, baby,” you rasped, collapsing beside Agatha and gently combing your fingers through his long hair. “I uh… I’m okay. I have to take Mama home though. I’m sorry, we can’t stay.”

Nicky’s expression dropped but he nodded. “I know. It’s not Mama’s time.”

Reaching up, his small hand touched your cheek, knowing something’s wrong even if he can’t understand it. His other hand touched Agatha’s.

“Please stop fighting,” he whispered to Agatha, holding her gaze. “It wasn’t their fault. Someday, we’ll be a family. All of us. You and Mommy and Mami… we’ll all be happy again.”

Maybe it’s the light shining in his eyes or the actual health keeping his face colored or maybe it’s the confidence in his voice but something—even if she didn’t want to admit it—began to warm in her chest, regret flooding into her eyes as she really took you in. How sick you suddenly seemed. The way you were panting, despite not needing air. The way your glow seemed…

Dim.

Smiling softly—in pain, in heartbreak—you grabbed Agatha’s hand and tangled your fingers together before closing your eyes, yanking both of you back into your bodies before she could try and stop you.

Then…

There was only darkness.

-X-

Agatha awoke with a gasp, sitting upright abruptly. The Road. She was on the Road again—lying in the wet mud—but…

Glancing around, she saw everyone surrounding… something.

“And here I thought this coven would be happy to know I’m fine,” she half-joked, staggering to her feet and wandering over to group, almost offended by the lack of reaction. “Really feeling the sisterhood here.”

Before she could even reach the circle, Rio’s hand was wrapped around her neck, shoving her into a tree. Scathing remarks on the tip of her tongue, she froze at the look of absolute fury on Rio’s face. Of all the things she’d said and done over the centuries, she’d never been on the receiving end of this expression…

This hatred.

“Agatha Harkness, you selfish, thoughtless woman! Hate me all you want but she—” Rio choked on her words, emotion swimming so deeply in her eyes that it nearly stole Agatha’s breath. “—she always saw the best in you. Forgave you for whatever you said; whatever you did. But this? Do you have any idea what you’ve done? What fucking mess you’ve caused? No, because you don’t ever think about anyone other than yourself!”

“What are you talking about?” Agatha choked out, fingers wrapping around Rio’s wrist in an attempt to loosen her grip.

Dragging her by her throat over to your body, Rio snarled, “Look!”

There, motionless on the ground, you lied. Pale in the moonlight of the Road, eyes fluttering, chest barely rising—

You looked like a damn corpse, something Agatha never once expected to see. You, so full of energy and life, snuffed out like a candle in a windstorm, only embers remaining where your flames once burned. Your fingers twitched, as if reaching out for something unseen but too weak to find.

“Nothing living can return from the afterlife. It demands a price, a price, for any mortal that passes through—and she fucking paid yours.” Rio’s lip trembled, staring at the dying body of her counterpart.

Her perfect other half.

For the first time in her existence, Agatha Harkness was struck speechless. You, who always stood by her side even when she screamed and raged and hated… you, who vowed to love her even as Agatha scorched the earth around her… you who could’ve left her to the afterlife…

“(Y/N),” she breathed, dropping to her knees beside you, a trembling hand reaching out to touch your face, only to be caught by Rio and yanked away, nearly knocked backwards onto her ass.

“Don’t fucking touch her,” she hissed, carefully lifting your body into her arms to cradle you to her chest. Feeling the way your heartbeat was waning beneath her palm. Sluggish. Barely beating. “You’ve done enough.”

Agatha’s lips parted, but no words came. There was nothing she could say. For once, the woman who had spoken her way into and out of every situation imaginable—who always found an angle to tip the scales in her favor—was utterly, horrifyingly speechless. For all her dark knowledge… she was completely unprepared.

A broken, strangled sound escaped her lips, and she moved again, reaching for you instinctively. “Rio, please—”

“No,” Rio spat, pulling you tighter against her chest. Her arms curled around you as if shielding you from the very woman who had caused this, her visage flickering for a split second. An unspoken warning. “You don’t get to ask anything of me. Of her. Not anymore.”

Agatha recoiled like she’d been struck, breath hitching sharply in her throat. She wanted to argue, to lash out, to fix this—but there was nothing she could say, nothing she could do. For the first time, she actually felt how powerless she really was.

"Please, baby," Rio whispered, this time directed at you. At the barely-there rise and fall of your chest. "Stay with me. Don’t leave me; I can’t do this without you."

But even as she begged, even as she reached for something unseen, something that was already slipping between her fingers, trying to call upon something—anything, the truth sat heavy in the air.

You were dying.

And there wasn’t a damn thing Death could do to stop it.

Jenn took a step forward, hesitant. “There has to be something we can do.” Her voice wavered, but there was determination in her eyes, staring at your still body. “Life isn’t a mortal, so that means the afterlife can’t just… take her.”

Rio let out a bitter laugh, low and humorless. “Oh, sure. Go ahead, Jenn. If you have a way to defy the fundamental laws of existence and the cosmos and the afterlife I’ve cultivated for millennia, be my guest. Clearly a bunch of half-assed witches know more than an actual cosmic entity.”

Jenn bristled but she kept quiet, knowing this wasn’t just anger—this was unadulterated grief. The panic of not being able to stop what felt inevitable.

And if they didn’t hurry…

There would be no life left to save.

[00valentina-writes00]

nsfw alpahbet w/ ellie?

♡♥︎NSFW Alphabet – Ellie Williams♥︎♡

A = Aftercare

Ellie is clingy as hell after sex. Flushed cheeks, arms wrapped around you, burying her face in your chest as she catches her breath. She’ll mumble something soft like, “That was so fuckin’ good, babe.” Loves when you play with her hair or trace little circles on her back while she melts into you. If you get her water? She’s in love.

B = Body Part

On you? Your hands. She’s obsessed. The way they grip her hips, tug her closer, slide between her legs—she shudders thinking about it. On herself? Her thighs. She loves the way they tense up when she’s close, and she loves when you hold them apart just to tease her.

C = Cum

Ellie soaks through everything. Your fingers, your face, the sheets—she’s a mess. She gets embarrassed about it, hiding her face while mumbling, “Fuck, I made such a mess, didn’t I?” Loves when you run your fingers through it, teasing her about how wet she is.

D = Dirty Secret

She gets off on the thought of being recorded. She’d never actually ask, but the idea of watching herself get wrecked later makes her squirm. If you ever whisper, “Wish I could film how pretty you look right now,” she’s done for.

E = Experience

Ellie knows what she’s doing, but it’s more about instinct than skill. She’s a quick learner, picking up what you like fast. The first time? She was a nervous wreck, fumbling a little, but once she got into it? That natural desperation took over.

F = Favorite Position

Anything where she doesn’t have to do much work. Loves when you pin her wrists down, straddle her hips, and take what you want. She also loves laying back while you eat her out, thighs trembling, body arching into your mouth.

G = Goofy

Ellie can’t help but crack a joke. If she moans a little too loud, she’ll giggle and be like, “Damn, that was embarrassing.” But if you tell her to shut up and take it? She’s instantly back in the moment.

H = Hair

Definitely has a little bit of hair down there—she’s not super meticulous about it, but she keeps it tidy. A little scruffy, but soft. The first time you went down on her, she was worried about it, but when you moaned against her? Yeah, she stopped caring.

I = Intimacy

Depends on her mood. Sometimes she’s needy, whimpering, clutching at you, begging for more. Other times, she wants it desperate and messy, grip-tightening, nails-digging, teeth-clashing. Either way, it’s always intense.

J = Jack Off

Ellie masturbates a lot. She’s got zero self-control when it comes to thinking about you. If you leave for a few days? She’s in bed, hand between her legs, whispering your name. She won’t admit it, but if you ask her how many times she did it while you were gone? Her face goes red.

K = Kink

Loves being pinned down and controlled. Hand on her throat? She’s putty. Loves being teased until she’s a whimpering mess. Also? Overstimulation wrecks her. If you keep going after she’s come? She’s sobbing, trembling, begging for mercy.

L = Location

Loves anywhere private where she can be loud. She’s not great at being quiet, so a bedroom is best. But? If you pull her into an empty room, cover her mouth, and fuck her anyway? She’s ruined.

M = Motivation

Whisper in her ear. Say something filthy. Brush your fingers between her legs and act innocent. Tell her she’s yours, that she looks so good like this. That’s it. She’s gone.

N = No

Ellie isn’t into being too rough. She loves a little dominance, sure, but anything that feels degrading? Not for her. She also won’t fully dom. Ever. If you try to get her to? She’s laughing in your face.

O = Oral

Loves receiving. She gets so whiny when you eat her out, thighs twitching, hands gripping the sheets, whimpering your name. Tries to return the favor, but she’s way too eager, all sloppy tongue and muffled moans.

P = Pace

If she’s in charge? She’s slow, teasing, dragging it out. But if you’re in control? She’s squirming, gasping, begging for you to go faster.

Q = Quickie

She’s not against them, but she prefers taking her time. If you push her against the wall and slide your hand down her pants? She’s not complaining.

R = Risk

Ellie loves new things, but she gets shy about asking. If you introduce something new? She might tease you about it at first, but she’s secretly so into it.

S = Stamina

She comes quick, but she can go a few rounds. She’s so sensitive after her first orgasm, panting, thighs trembling—but if you tell her you’re not done? She’ll take it.

T = Toys

She pretends she doesn’t like toys. But the first time you used a vibrator on her? She was a mess within minutes, clutching the sheets, gasping your name. Now? She acts like she doesn’t need it, but the second you bring it out? She’s already spreading her legs.

U = Unfair

She loves teasing, but she hates being teased. If you edge her for too long? She’s whining, trembling, begging for you to let her come. She gets bratty about it, too—until you shut her up.

V = Volume

Ellie is so fucking loud. Whimpering, moaning, gasping your name like a prayer. Tries to bite her lip to stay quiet, but it never works.

W = Wild Card

She likes it when you tell her what to do. If you say, “Touch yourself for me,” and sit back to watch? Her whole body shudders. She’ll start slow, eyes locked onto yours, breath hitching every time you praise her.

X = X-ray

Ellie is pretty. Neatly trimmed hair, soft skin, slick and warm. She’s so sensitive, too—the second your tongue touches her, she’s already trembling.

Y = Yearning

Ellie’s sex drive is ridiculous. If you so much as look at her a certain way, she’s already squirming. If you ever tell her “You’re so needy, huh?” She gets so embarrassed—but she doesn’t deny it.

Z = Zzzz

After sex? She’s dead. She’ll mumble something sweet, press a lazy kiss to your shoulder, and pass the fuck out. If you try to wake her up? Good luck.

[worseandworsebytheday]

I had a whole long response typed out and I had to step away and I came back and it was gone so I’m going to have to abridge it because it was a masterpiece of a response and I can’t recreate it. In short elden ring lore is stupid it’s one selfcest god that crafted a bunch of incest demigods (curing mogh and the cursed half brother). The “dungeons” you speak of are mostly just caves and mines with a few legacy dungeons. Some of which are more annoying than interesting. Saying it’s “visually stunning” or whatever is stupid you’re comparing a current game to one over a decade old that honestly still looks great. But even so, simply comparing visuals is hardly a fair argument. Your pot man’s quest wasn’t sad it was stupid. Whack him out of a few holes and then shatter his ass in azula. I felt nothing doing it. Ranni and her ending were at least interesting and her as a character I actually liked. And she lead to the moonlight sword which is a staple of the games. Yes I know bloodborne and dark souls have insane lore but it’s actually good and worth looking into. Your beloved elden ring locations are big empty areas where you will either just wander around doing nothing or get annihilated by a rune bear or T. rex bird every 2 minutes. There’s no engagement. No imagination there. Skyrim had replayability. Multiple quest lines for factions or the open playability to just wander around and make your own story. I’m sorry you lack and and all ability to think outside of a stupidly structured game. The absolutely godawful takes I’ve been getting inundated with the past couple days are avail it’s bullshit I really expected better from all you stupid fucks. You remind me of when I was in highschool and idiots would say halo was better than Metroid because it “defined a genre” completely disregarding what came before. Or that master chief could ever take Samus in a fight simply because he was the newer guy and all they knew. You’re lucky my original reblog got deleted and I’m getting yelled at and this is all I could say back to you otherwise I’d have much better words than you’re a bumbling fucking moron with absolute shit tastes. Go choke on your shit opinions and enjoy your garbage ass fucking game. (I’ll update this post as I remember more things to add on if I do).

When I was mentioning the shitty locations I think I forgot to specifically name drop caelid. Can’t forget FUCKING CAELID SPECIFICALLY.

Also you think the only interesting location in DS1 is he dukes archive?! Motherfucker we got ash lake, the seat of the FUCKING MULTIVERSE. We’ve got, quite literally, hell, izalith. Oh and I don’t know how you got to the archives without passing through anor londo. Because you CAN NOT tell me that place wasn’t fucking stunning. And AND AND the way they BUILT the locations. Seeing izalith and ash lake from the tomb of giants. That not only has LORE REASONS but if you look at the 3D rendering of the maps IT ACTUALLY PHYSICALLY FUNCTIONS AS SUCH. Like literally the world building is top notch and you’re going to downplay ALL OF THIS?!?! Motherfucker get your fucking head out of your motherfucking anus and open your shit crusted eyes at the marvel you downplayed to “one interesting area”. And on top of that “oh boo hop the pot man was so sad” fucking SIF AND ARTORIAS. You want sad fucking...just fucking...now that I took a moment to re skim your response to me now I’m just fucking angry with you you fucking idiot among fucking idiots.

Like really your shit ass Fucking tastes about skyrim are bad enough but to lump bloodborne lore in with elden ring lore and then shit on dark souls world building?? Motherfucker I will physically fight you to the death over this one I’m not even messing around. That’s 3 real games you’ve dragged through the dirt defending the elden trash heap. Fuck all of you.

elder scrolls or elden ring. there is a right answer

Listen I love skyrim, but you have to be a bumbling fucking moron if you think it's better than Elden Ring!!!!

[sturniololuvz]

Could you write a reversed version of “Scarring Family Memories” so its reader and her boyfriend instead of chris and his girlfriend ??

yesss! sorry i haven’t been getting to these , probably gonna stay up late doing them , even tho i have to wake up at 5am tmr 😭)it’s 10 already 😞

“No That”

Sturniolos x sister

Warnings : yelling,

The Sturniolo household was always loud—whether it was the boys messing around, arguing about something dumb, or just their natural chaotic energy filling the space. Tonight was no different. Chris, Matt, and Nick were all in the living room, sprawled out on the couch, engaged in some heated debate over which fast food place had the best fries.

“I’m telling you, McDonald’s fries are elite,” Matt argued, waving his hands dramatically.

Nick scoffed. “Bro, no. Wendy’s fries with a Frosty? Unmatched.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “You guys are both idiots. Five Guys fries? Game over.”

They continued bickering, but Chris found himself zoning out. Something felt… off. The house was never truly quiet, but for the past few minutes, there had been an unusual silence coming from Y/N’s room. Their little sister, at seventeen, was usually blasting music or FaceTiming friends, yet now? Nothing.

Chris sat up, listening closer. That’s when he heard it—faint whimpering and hushed moans. His stomach twisted uncomfortably.

“The hell?” he muttered, furrowing his brows.

“What?” Matt asked, glancing over.

Chris held up a hand to silence them, tilting his head toward the hallway. The noises weren’t loud, but they were there—and undeniably suspicious. His protective instincts kicked in immediately.

Without another word, he got up and made his way toward Y/N’s door. His heart pounded as he reached for the handle, hesitating for only a split second before pushing it open.

And then he froze.

His brain short-circuited as he took in the sight in front of him—Y/N tangled up with some random guy, both half-dressed, their bodies way too close for comfort. His eyes widened in pure shock.

“WHAT. THE. ACTUAL. FUCK?!” Chris shouted, his voice echoing through the house.

Y/N and the guy jumped apart instantly, scrambling to grab their clothes. The boy—who Chris didn’t even recognize—looked like he had just seen a ghost.

Chris turned on his heel so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet, slamming the door shut behind him. His heart was racing, his face twisted in a mix of horror and fury.

He stormed back to the living room, his hands on his head. “Dude, I did not just see that,” he muttered to himself.

Matt and Nick looked up, confused. “See what?” Nick asked.

Chris ignored him, pacing. “What the fuck was that?” he mumbled, running a hand over his face.

About two minutes later, there was a loud shuffle from the hallway, followed by the sound of footsteps sprinting. The boy—still fixing his shirt—bolted out of Y/N’s room like his life depended on it, not even bothering to look at anyone as he rushed out the front door.

Chris clenched his jaw, shaking his head in disbelief. And then, a moment later, Y/N appeared in the hallway, her face flushed with embarrassment. She looked like she wanted to sink into the floor and disappear.

Before she could say anything, Chris exploded.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, Y/N?!” he yelled, throwing his arms up. “A boy? IN YOUR ROOM?! WHILE WE’RE HOME?!”

Y/N winced, hugging her arms around herself. “Chris, I—”

“NO. NO ‘CHRIS, I—’ WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, turning to Matt and Nick for backup. “Guys, please tell me I’m not the only one losing my damn mind right now.”

Matt looked just as shocked, but he was trying (and failing) not to laugh. Nick, however, shook his head and sighed. “Yeah, Y/N, what the hell?” he said, his voice calmer than Chris’s but still firm. “That’s so reckless.”

Chris was still fuming. “Like, you couldn’t have waited until we weren’t home? Or, you know, never?”

Y/N’s face burned hotter. “I didn’t think you’d hear anything!” she snapped, defensive.

Chris let out a sarcastic laugh. “OH, WELL, GUESS WHAT? I DID. AND NOW I’M TRAUMATIZED.”

Y/N groaned, covering her face. “Can we please just not talk about this?”

“OH, WE’RE TALKING ABOUT IT,” Chris shot back. “Because if you think for one second that this is ever happening again, you’re dead wrong.”

“Chris—”

“NOPE. No boys in your room. No sneaking around. And DEFINITELY no… no that when we’re home.” He made a disgusted face, shaking his head. “Holy shit, I’m gonna need therapy.”

Matt finally lost it, bursting into laughter. “Dude, your face right now is priceless.”

Chris whipped around to glare at him. “Oh, shut the hell up, Matt.”

Y/N, still mortified beyond belief, groaned again. “Can this conversation be over now?”

Chris exhaled sharply, his anger still bubbling under the surface. “Fine. But if I ever catch a guy in this house again, I swear to God, Y/N—”

She held up her hands. “I get it! I get it! No boys, no sneaking around, no ‘that’ while you’re home.”

Chris narrowed his eyes. “Good. Now go back to your room and think about how stupid that was.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, quickly retreating back to her room, slamming the door behind her.

Chris stood there for a moment, still trying to process everything. He turned back to his brothers, shaking his head.

“I need a drink.”

Nick smirked. “Or therapy.”

Matt grinned. “Probably both.”

Chris groaned, collapsing onto the couch. “Worst. Night. Ever.”

[writing-whump]

A Sick Man’s Patience

Have Arnie visiting a still recovering Isaiah while in a not-so-quiet argument with Hector. Angst ensues.

"How could we not notice you were sick?" Arnie asked for the umpteenth time.

Arnie had come to Isaiah cause he wanted a change of scenery under the pretense of getting help with an exam question.

Isaiah did the exams of the first law school year as a side thing next to his psychology master degree. What Arnie was struggling with was something Isaiah did with a shrug and nearby, like it wasn't difficult as hell.

Arnie knew he wasn't stupid, but moments like these made him feel like Isaiah was on another level of genius.

Really, the youngest Wolfson thought it would be easy. He would surprise Isaiah home, get some questions answered and inconspicuously asked about his opinion about the dorms. Easy.

Except Isaiah had been sick, the apartment was a mess and Arnie's surprise turned out to be more of a bother. Like he came demanding study sessions from sick people.

How was he supposed to know?

Isaiah changed out of pyjamas at the sight of him, but he wasn't feeling well enough to forgo a bathrobe on top of the sweater he was wearing. To be fair, the bathrobe was nice, huge and super formal looking, but it was still a glaring reminder Isaiah wasn't 100% yet.

Isaiah was also leaning heavily with both elbows on the table supporting his cheek on one palm— which was something unspeakable under normal circumstances. "We were handling it."

"Oh, we were handling it," Matthew repeated sarcastically behind them. He was putting dishes out of the dishwasher with excessive strength. "Shame I didn't notice that sooner."

Isaiah just sighed.

Arnie turned around to face the red wolf. "Then why didn't you let us know? We would have...done something."

Matthew scoffed in Isaiah's direction and continued washing the sink like it personally offended him.

And Seline was an entirely different problem. She actually yelled when he came, only in her PJs on the extended sofa, unwashed hair in a loose ponytail and had been throwing lighting bolts at Arnie since.

"You could have at least called if we are in a shape for a visit." She was clumsily trying to fold the blankets and return the sofa to its normal stare. Arnie was tempted to go help her, cause it still seemed to have been a straining tast for her, but also didn't dare to get closer.

"Or asked if we didn't need anything to buy," she continued. "This isn't a train station you can just barge into whenever you want. People have their privacy."

Arnie chewed on his lip, feeling stupider by the second. So he did the usual thing, when he was feeling guilty. "Jesus, aren't you overdoing it a little? It's not such a big deal. So your hair is greasy and you have a bathrobe. Get over it. No one cares about it anyway."

Seline's cheeks heated up and she threw the pillow against the sofa. "You are so rude-"

"Alright," Matthew interjected, positioning himself between the two. "Arnie didn't know. He will be more careful next time. You can crash in our room...?"

Seline rolled her eyes. "I can get up the stairs again, thank you."

Arnie turned away from her stomping her way upwards. "Was she always this bitchy? It sure got worse after the break up-"

There was painful wet impact against the back of his head. Matthew smacked him with a wet kitchen towel.

"Ow! What was that for?!"

Matthew gave him a nasty glare. "Don't talk like that about her or I'll give you an actual problem to worry about." He threw a look over Arnie's head towards Isaiah, scoffed and stomped off as well.

Arnie looked towards Isaiah who was strangely quiet through it all. Was he supposed to feel guilty or look for sympathy?

Isaiah sat in the same position, leaning against his hand, though now his other was massaging the left side of his chest and frowning.

"You okay?"

Isaiah opened his eyes at him with slow, deliberate effort. "I'm not really in shape for conflict right now. I'm happy to help you out with this and all, but be a little gentle with me today?"

"O-okay." Arnie was stunned by the request as much as the admittance. Was this a win for them that Isaiah was finally admitting when he wasn't feeling well or a cause for worry it was that bad for him to do it? "Was the...the fever that bad?"

Isaiah gave a tiny shrug, still rubbing at the sore spot at his chest. "Puts extra strain on the heart. I guess it's the most exhausting to me." His lips were pressed together in a thin line.

Arnie nodded, swallowing down. He had wanted to discreetly ask Isaiah about his dorm moving idea and get support from him against Hector's fussing...but it seemed today just wasn't going to be his day. "We can also forget about the studying thing too, if you are still feeling tired."

"Nah, it's alright. I can do these just fine." Isaiah leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes. "Read the example out loud and then find the corresponding section in the crime law that fits it the best."

Arnie looked back at the textbook he brought with him, simultaneously opening the law book as well, squinting at the tiny letters. "Yeah, but there are so many of them to choose from..."

"It doesn't matter as much what you choose but how you can argue about it."

Arnie rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "But shouldn't you look for like...objective reality?"

Isaiah chuckled, eyes still closed. "There is no such thing as that. But read the example again. Every word in that report matters. It gives you hints on the most likely law to apply."

Before Arnie could question that further, the front door suddenly slammed open hard enough to rattle the walls.

"So this is where you snuck off to," Hector said, amber brown eyes glistening yellow with anger as he stormed in.

Isaiah opened his eyes, straightening in the chair. "Was it a secret?"

"Of course not!" Arnie hunched his shoulders. "Not like I didn't message him where I was."

Hector stopped halfway through the living room, raising a blond eyebrow at the mess. "What the fuck?"

Arnie cringed, but this really wasn't on him was it?

Hector went white with realization but then took a deep breath and bit down the anger, going almost red from the effort. "I'm not gonna ask why you didn't call us when you were sick, cause you keep doing the same mistake and expecting an idiot to change is mine."

Arnie felt Isaiah freezing next to him, but Hector didn't wait for his answer. He shrugged off his jacket and shoes and started to wrestle with the blankets and pillows to clear the sofa, before attacking the mess on the table.

Isaiah tiled hsi head to the side at that, looking more curious than offended. "What is he doing?"

Arnie leaned closer conspiratively. "I think he is proving the necessity of his presence by cleaning."

Hector's head jerked up at that, like a wolf's ear turning towards a sound. "Where exactly are your manners, huh? Why are you giving him tasks instead of helping out? Honestly out of the three of us, only I was given common sense..."

Isaiah actually laughed at that. "When did he become so mature?"

Arnie had to join in on the laughter. "Oh, it's all the mysterious girlfriend's fault. Half a year later and Hector is getting the hang of his temperament."

Isaiah's eyebrows shot up. "Girlfriend? Since when? What?"

Arnie was immensely enjoying himself being the most informed. "I'm not exactly sure, because he keeps hiding her like she will turn into sand if you look at her, but she is definitely an influence. Quite the soft power." Arnie smiled in Hector's direction with a dreamy sight. "I'm so happy for him! For real, the best I can do for the lovebirds is to clear the space and move out, isn't it?"

He meant it as a joke. Maybe a subtle hint. Wasn't Hector supposed to be glad their life circumstances aligned so much? Arnie wanted to try out college life at the dorms, and Hector wanted to have his girl over. Ideal.

Except Hector didn't find it amusing. He dropped the dirty mugs into the kitchen sink, almost breaking them to pieces, before whirling around. "What did you say?!"

Isaiah looked perplexed like an owl. "You want to move out?"

Arnie focused on the undecided party like a good politician. "I have been thinking about it? Like the semester is going well, but because I live so far away I have to commute a lot to campus and I can't really take part in the social life if I'm constantly locked up at the pack building, right?" He was aware he was speeding up, but he couldn't stop. "So I wanted to move into the student dorms on the way. That should be possible, right? It'll still be in Hector's region, but it will be closer and I'll get to meet actual students of my age and-"

"Not a chance," Hector cut in. "Too dangerous. Forget about it."

Arnie looked at Isaiah. "What do you think? Would it be possible?"

There was a long pause heavy with tension as the blond and dark-haired wolf stared at the human between them.

Isaiah looked up as he thought, rubbing at his chin. "I mean...I wasn't expecting that, but it should be possible. It's not like they will know who you are and those that will should be too scared of both Hector and me to actually try anything." He met Hector's burning eyes. "With some safety measures in place, I think it's doable."

Hector’s hands curled into fists at his sides. He returned his attention to Arnie with a death glare he used to remind wolves under him of how small and insignificant they were. It was very much an authority move in wolf terms.

Arnie returned it without hesitation.

"How could you say it's because of Olive? You can't possibly-" Hector deflated a little at the words, hurt flashing in his eyes. "You think I would ever choose a girl over you? That I would kick you out just to give her room? How could you think that?"

Arnie swallowed, surprised by the change of tactics. Instead of getting angry, Hector was getting emotional. "Hex. Geez. You are not a divorced father who has to convince his kid to forgive him interests in other people. We are adults. You like that girl and I'm happy for you. It doesn't have anything to do with me wanting to move out."

Hector's brows furrowed. "Then why? Why are you insisting on this nonsense?!" He hit his closed fist against the counter.

Isaiah looked very unimpressed. "I don't quite understand the problem here. Socializing and trying out new environments is a good idea for him. I like it."

A muscle twitched in Hector’s jaw. "You. Stay out of it."

"Why should he?" Arnie said. "He can judge the risks well-"

"Oh yeah, Isaiah is so great, does everything right all the fucking time." Hector's voice was rougher now. "Very easy for him to be perfect when he was never there long enough to mess anything up."

Arnie's eyes went wide. "Hex, that’s just unfair—"

"Don’t you think you’re overreacting?" Isaiah’s said, voice low and controlled. But there was something new in his eyes. A warning.

Hector bared his teeth. "I don’t want to hear the opinion of someone who left us the first chance he got. What would you know?"

The chair scraped against the floor as Isaiah pushed to his feet, towering slightly over Hector.

"Say that again."

Hector stepped closer. "I said-"

"Sorry, I was busy taking the physical abuse of our father at the time so that neither of you would get hurt." Isaiah's voice was very calm and quiet compared to Hector's. Didn't stop the room from turning to ice.

Arnie’s breath hitched, caught in his chest. He wasn’t sure if he was even breathing.

Hector seemed to have snapped out of his red fog, taking a few steps back. His fingers twitched at his sides like they weren’t sure whether to ball into fists or reach for something unseen.

"And that I left so you could grow up in a safe pack instead of running away while it was tearing itself in half," Isaiah continued. "Truly, I have done nothing but enjoyed getting beat up, cast out, and fucking up my health for good in the process. What would I know about caring about someone, huh?"

Hector was backing away until he bumped against the kitchen counter, his hands gripping the edge like it was the only thing keeping him upright. His lips parted in a silent exhale, but no words came.

"For your information," Isaiah continued, his voice colder than Arnie had ever heard it, "it's way harder to hide the pain than to take it out on others."

A ringing silence followed, the air thick with something unspoken, but Isaiah didn’t fill it.

A blue vein pulsed on his forehead. His breathing was steady, but just barely.

Then, finally, he rubbed a hand over his face, as if wiping away the last remnants of the fight. "I told you to take it easy on me today," he said towards Arnie.

He turned, moving past Hector like he wasn’t worth another glace.

The black-haired wolf stopped just before disappearing into his room. This time, his voice was soft. Almost too soft.

"You know why I never call you?"

He didn’t look back, didn’t wait for Hector to answer.

"You always kick me when I'm down."

And the door shut behind him.

[kitts-mechanix]

Yeah that's messed up.....poor Mirage. Actually it's kind of tragic when you realise they were in love and even got engaged but it didn't work out because she fell for Starscream....and then she and Mirage were on opposite sides and in 2005 she blasts him DX (Imagine her having some PTSD of that though)

Though I think what would actually happen is that Galvatron takes off after killing Starscream, and Arcane races after him like a bat out of hell and there's this epic fight, and then she dies and says her last words that Galvatron HATES!

(And arguably, that's STILL not as bad as the deal Raven gets. Because she watches Optimus Prime, her father figure, die, her husband gets killed in battle right in front of her and her son and then she freaking gets caught and possessed by Unicron! You wanna talk about fear of losing your humanity over prosthetics? Wait for Unicron to take over your willpower!)

I just had a huge realisation yesterday and I wanted to share this after going through some pretty horrible stuff over the weekend: Something I've always asked myself ever since getting into G1 Transformers was "why do you like Starscream so much even though he's a narcissistic bully? Why are you, someone who is a victim of narcissistic abuse, taking comfort in a narcissistic character?" Well, I think I finally figured it out. Because Starscream is also a victim of that very same abuse. I mean, he's beaten, called names, bullied, unappreciated, abused, and put through the wringer…and he internalised all that abuse because he knew no other way. He had no one to turn to, and the few bots who did support him, he treated like dirt. Once he had that freedom and power, he abused it and became the very thing that abused him. I have no doubt he was always self-centred, selfish, had a huge ego, etc. before all that but honestly? I think Megatron's abuse caused him to turn out the way he did. I could have turned out that way and it's a little scary, some of the parallels I'm drawing with him.

@ichbinmeltdown wrote a great analysis on Starscream that I want to share here:

"Megatron was abusive as hell to Starscream. He treated him horribly, and I legitimately almost cried a few times watching it. There's an episode called Starscream's Brigade that introduces the Combaticons, and I think that perfectly demonstrates the cycle of abuse. The entire world is against Starscream at pretty much every turn throughout the series, but none more so than Megatron. Every word out of his speech synthesizer to Starscream is to berate him, and he's constantly throwing him around, beating him, even ripping out his speech synthesizer in a scene from a previous episode (Hoist Goes Hollywood, IIRC). His own teammates don't like him, and even his brothers- Skywarp and Thundercracker, going off of the idea they're brothers- just... allow Megatron to abuse him. (Not to get into headcanons here, but I personally believe that Megatron's abuse fractured the Elite Trine's family dynamic. They are still brothers and love each other, but they're all too afraid of Megatron to really... stand up for each other as they did in the past.) And Starscream seemed to just snap in this episode. He treated the Combaticons poorly, and even when teaming up with Shockwave, he subjected him to a lot of the same ridicule and torment that Megatron put him through. He failed to realize Shockwave was the one of the only bots who would give him a chance- and unfortunately lashed out at him, which ruined his chances of Shockwave ever being a true friend and ally to him. Once Starscream had finally gotten a taste of power and not being under another bot's boot, he too became the very thing that he lived in fear of. And that really is how the cycle goes- when you're finally free from abuse, it can be tempting to overcompensate and take back all the power you were robbed of, at any cost whatsoever. Starscream, like D16 in Transformers One, snapped up this opportunity."

And the sad thing is, I've seen this in real life and I've internalised some of the abuse I've dealt with too. I'm not proud of it. Like the Seeker Trine, my own family dynamic has been fractured by similar abuse. I know there's traces of narcissism in my behaviour too, and I'm NOT proud of it. Maybe this is why I can forgive Starscream for being a narc, because I can see a little bit of my own personality/attitude/behaviour in him. Maybe it's because I know where it came from, I get why he acts that way and it's not just random and out of the blue. Maybe it's because--and I know this is a bold statement--I don't think he would do some of the stuff my own family did to me (blah blah blah he's a fictional character).

I didn't mean for this to turn into a long rant, so

TLDR: I finally figured out that part of the reason I love and relate to Starscream so much despite him internalising some of the abuse I went through, is because he was the victim of that same abuse.

[midnightshindig]

could we get hc’s/a drabble for a reader who’s cecil’s daughter x rex? keep up the great work 🙏

Rex Splode X Cecil’s Daughter! Reader

(Omggg I love this request, thank you sm!!!)

You worked closely with your father, partly because you were the best supervillain profiler in the world and partly because he loved you dearly

After the life he’s lived, Cecil knew the safest place was with him and Donald at HQ.

But you couldn’t just stand around and look pretty, no no, he insisted you learned a trade

and I mean hey, you get good at what comes easy, right?

so you ended up being the top profiler for the GPA, figuring out a villains motive and analyzing the best course of action from hundreds of thousands of miles away, with only information gleaned from surveillance drones and the Guardian of the Globes’ radio comms descriptions

This is how you met Rex

Like your father, you were efficient to a fault

like your father, you made few mistakes and took pride in your work

Unlike your father, you sounded cute as hell

and Rex noticed.

it started off innocent enough, with him being the most descriptive of the Guardians when it came to villain descriptions:

”OH MY GOD FUCKING SHIT HES GOT A GUN OEJABTBNWNT-“

”Uhhhh temperament? Well shit Y/n he’s got a temper he’s TRYING TO MURDER ME AGRHAHR-“

“No I have no idea what her agenda is- but she kicks like a fu-cking mule and I can’t get her to back off of me!”

mostly just whining. Actually, almost exclusively whining.

You built up a rapport over time, like audio pen pals, or a really shitty podcast for the other to listen to.

eventually, you started chatting over comms even outside of missions.

”heyyyy y/n, are you online?”

”Yes Rex, you know I stay on during the day. Is there a threat?”

”Naw I just thought you’d want to hear me drink sixteen beers in five minutes”

”why would I want to-“

the sound of chugging and metal being crushed, followed by the horrific noises of a newly emptied stomach followed suite.

Your father didn’t approve, not because of intermingling work and pleasure, he knew the best source for companionship is within the industry

bit Rex?

*glances over at Rex trying to drink a beer immediately after throwing up sixteen beers*

are you trying to send him into an early retirement?

but he’s your dad and ultimately he figures you could do Rex some good

so at the Guardians Christmas party, he introduces you:

”Uhm, I’d like you all to meet Y/n, she’s the chief profiler you’ve been communicating with for the last few months. She is also my daughter, but I trust you will respect her as the professional she is.”

Rex is on you immediately

Cecil is regretting all his life choices

he should’ve gotten you a puppy and Rex a tomagatchi. Or actually nothing because he doesn’t care about Rex.

buuuuut he cares about you, and what kind of father would he be if he didn’t try and facilitate you being happy?

so you and Rex meet in person for the first time, and he’s a mess.

”Heyyyyy hot stuff, we gotta get you a video camera or something because god damn!”

you raise an eyebrow with a smile, and take a long, agonizingly quiet sip from your drink.

before spitting it into the cup

he can’t help but laugh when he realizes what’s happen

”Oh yeah! I spiked the punch, it’s so highschool Cecil didn’t think I’d actually do it!”

”Jesus Christ- what the fuck did you spike it *with*?” You ask indignantly, your mouth burning

His Face is smug as ever “Everclear”

After everyone (including you and Rex) get belligerently drunk, Cecil cancels workplace parties.

It brings good things, however, breaking the ice for future in-person hangouts

he may not be able to fly you around the world like Mark, but he can treat you to a pretty impressive firework show whenever you want

the first time he does this is the time he asks you out.

You’re on the mountain outside the base, and he says he’s got “something special to show you”

Please don’t throw up sixteen beers again please please please-

A mirage of colors and shapes flash across the sky

He looks back at you after finishing, the last firework delayed enough to erupt into a burst of pinks and reds when he asks you

”Uhm- I know it’s super unprofessional and your dad will totally kick my ass if I mess this up, but would you wanna go on a date sometime?”

Your profiling skills didn’t pick THAT up

You blink. Hard.

”like. With you?”

he furrows his brow in embarrassed anger and takes a few huffy breaths, folding his arms

”Uh. Yeah. With me!” He frowns even more, his anger breaking to reveal a glimmer of anxiety

this boy is so nervous please just answer him

and do you do, standing up from your perch on the snowy mountainside and putting your gloved hands in his

”Yeah- I mean- that’s agreeable to me if it’s agreeable to you.”

somewhere like hundreds of miles away, Cecil sighs in relief for the first time in decades.

so you and Rex start dating!

he’s a bit of a gym rat, and most of your interaction is still over comms, since he’s so busy saving the world and stuff

wow your boyfriend is so cool!

but you also carve out time to show Rex the cool stuff your dad has taken you to see over the years.

its a little weird for Rex

”Yeah- this is my dads favorite painting- and this is where we go to get ice cream- and-“

Rex isn’t sure he knows how to interact with Cecil after learning his favorite broadway musical. Or that he has one at all.

Cecil isn’t sure how to react when your bedroom cork board is no longer sparse, but filled with Polaroids and photo strips of you and his employee slash superhero lackey. Kissing. Eugh.

Rex values your skills, and often makes a game out of people watching with you

”The guy with the huge dick energy, in the green hoodie.”

”Mmmm…. Kelptomaniac with a fent problem, looks like he has early onset arthritis and an iron deficiency. Most likely to rob a combination grocery store and pharmacy.”

”that’s brutal! Okay what about the girl with the huge… um… tank top. Striped, by that statue!”

”Developed quickly, has crow feet and probably did ballet as a child, but stopped around middle school. Her hair looks natural but is dyed, likely from ginger to brown based on the undertones. She has a twitch in her arm and a shakiness in her eyes, probably low blood sugar. Hence-“ you gestured to the ice cream cart next to her “Why she’s in line. Like we should be, cmon!”

you pull him over and get ice cream, he gets rocky road every time, and always insists on getting a bite of whatever you got

Bonus:

Rex and Cecil are both relatively bad at the traditional family dynamic

but Rex wants to”meet the parents” like he never could with Eve for obvious reasons

so you bring him to hq for the Superbowl

Every year you, Cecil, and Donald stream the Super Bowl on a side screen while carrying out your regular duties, along with a cheap plastic football shaped bowl of potato chips, Donald’s favorite, and a smaller bowl of peanut m&ms, Cecil’s favorite.

Rex studies really hard on the Eagles and the Chiefs

only to realize nobody except Donald actually gives a shit how the game plays out

rex scores MAJOR brownie points with Donald though

and since he’s like basically an uncle to you, he counts it as a win

cecil thinks he’s lame

”if you put this much effort into training as you do trying to impress me via an archaic bid to my masculinity, the world might actually be a safe place.”

ouch.

Rex eats all the peanut m&Ms in revenge

[npdkondraki]

hihihi it’s me again ^_^ can i get a basic rundown/explanation of theresa and sam i would like to know more about them 🙏

(also funny story, our first rewrite was also named moore)

oh god oh fuck . this got so long . stelly i am so sorry you activated my autism trap card. enjoy the uh . multi-paragraph infodump.

ok FIRST OFF. basically the very very very basic lore rundown vis a vis What The Hell Is Their Issue is that essentially theyre both semi-hosts to a fucked up fungus* (*think of cordyceps fungi if u want a similar example ^_^) thats using their bodies to keep itself alive.

in moore's case it primarily resides in his throat & mouth* (*hence the fucked up hoarse & wavery voice + stutter) & in theresa's case it primarily resides in her heart* (*hence the fact she essentially just. cannot die. it just refuses to let her heart stop beating. lol. sucks to be her). moore's "healing" is essentially speeding up the healing process but sacrificing pieces of himself to do so, meanwhile he recovers at the same rate a normal human would with those injuries. the entire process is just . incredibly painful and draining for him. sucks to be that guy Lol Lmfao Even.

ok hope you got that. NOW onto their . like. normal actual dynamics i promise this is Far easier to explain.

moore works primarily on site as a sign language interpreter, and he'll pretty much work on anything he can have access to. the man loves information and its basically enrichment for him to be allowed to translate things. he also doubles as an off site medic, traveling primarily to areas where medical help isn't able to be received quick as a first resort health system so they don't use up their medical resources as quick. really the only reason they even have him on medical calls is because he was a med student who just . never went into nursing after graduation. worlds most traumatized 42 year old man who has not socially progressed past the age of 10. He Sucks Bad. its great

THERESA, on the other hand, is just. worlds worst interviewer. she works primarily with the more "violent" or typically dangerous humanoid scps doing interviews which . usually ends in her getting her ass kicked or being dragged out of the room before anything actually gets physical (really, its just because the foundation doesnt want to spend more money on fixing her messes than they have to). her main goal is pretty much to see how much they can take before it turns to violence. theresa takes primary control over anything relating to moore with the justification that he doesn't "truly understand what he's getting into", so long as she has permission from the higher ups.

theres just So Much happening in the background in their relationship honestly like. brief examples include theresa purposefully keeping him sheltered and insisting he not socialize with anyone as a way to keep him under her thumb, the fact moore hates her but literally wouldnt know who he is without her and also thats his sister still and he cant just Leave Her, and also just the fact alone that she, even within foundation walls, has found a way to isolate him further and keep him truly controlled. also like . dont even get me started on theresa purposefully injuring herself so moore will heal her so she has to take care of him and just manipulate him further. endless spiral. they suck so fucking much. my constant go-to is just "cain & abel if they sucked shit and were awful for eachother". but that would take Forever to properly explain so i will not even try to. anyways.

fuckignff. yeah thats it. thats the most basic summary i can nail down. thumbs up.

[viserya-firstofhername]

I'm fine. It's fine. Everything is fine.

[losingdcgs]

"Touché." The other's statement didn't offend Marcela. Even outside of her current situation, she wouldn't recommend anyone follow any advice that left her mouth. Hell, she probably would avoid giving out serious advice altogether. After all, her own life was enough of a mess as it was, the very last thing she needed to do was drag anyone down to her level or have some rather displeased people coming for her neck for messing up their lives. "And here I thought this was more on the side of 'acceptable' coping mechanisms. Aren't people always ranting and raving about the wonders of fresh air, nature, and all that?" Of course those things only went so far. Actually talking about her woes and problems without burying them under joke after joke would probably do a lot more for her than the cool night air ever could. Was she ready to actually do so though? Obviously not. "This at least has to rank higher than slipping my guts to some bartender through slurred speech." The words rolled off her tongue with a humor to them, even though that might the exact situation she found herself in later this weekend. Marcela began to swing ever so slightly, "It just happens this is one of the more decent thinking spots around town, at least for people with noisy roommates. What about you? What brings you out here so late?"

serin kaplan stood just outside the faint glow of the streetlight near the playground, arms crossed tightly against the january chill, her expression one of mild irritation. she hadn’t expected company when she cut through the park on her way home. the startled scream made her roll her eyes initially, but as she took a step closer, her perfectly arched brow lifted in surprise at the scene before her: a woman awkwardly perched on a swing, laughing nervously at her own fright. “charming,” serin said, her tone dry and clipped. “though i’m not sure I need career advice from someone loitering at a playground like an angsty teenager.” she pulled her coat tighter around herself and added with a sarcastic edge, “and here i thought i was the only one with questionable coping mechanisms this time of night.” serin’s sharp eyes scanned marcela, taking in the way she clung to the swing like it might ground her. she could tell this woman wasn’t a threat, though her demeanor was far from polished or poised. still, something about her — maybe the vulnerability lurking beneath that self-deprecating laugh — piqued serin’s curiosity more than she cared to admit. "well, since you're clearly not a ghost, mind explaining what you're doing out here? or is this where i’m supposed to mind my own business?”

[messangerforthestars]

“We need more morally gray characters” you guys can barely handle topaz and jade.

[acediaedeus]

petition for ppl to stop trying to deny Ichigo’s title as a delinquent on the grounds of him being a good student. you know delinquency and good grades aren’t mutually exclusive, right? you want to tell me Kurosaki Ichigo, THE Kurosaki Ichigo, a mix of 4 different races, can’t be a delinquent AND 11th in his school? yeah, you’re delusional.

no one’s gonna call you a delinquent just bc you have bad grades. a bad student? yes. but a delinquent? no, bc the definition of the word is “someone who tends to commit crime, particularly minor crime”, and as far as I’m aware beating up ppl is a crime, even if they start it and even if they’re bad.

embrace the reality of Kurosaki Ichigo, saviour of all three worlds, being a dumbass teenager who’s face is known to every cop in the area. the responders for 119 calls know Ichigo’s voice by heart, he says “hi” and they just sigh and ask “how many?”.

this is also a kind of continuation to my post about Grimmjow being in shock when seeing Ichigo out of Shinigami robes, bc we all know he likely thinks of Ichigo as a do-gooder and a law-abiding human (derogatory) and so he’s not surprised when he comes to the Human World and fucking everyone from officers to doctors smile at the guy with exclamations of “Oh, it’s Kurosaki!”. he is significantly more surprised when Tatsuki tells him exactly why they react like that. he loves it and Kurosaki gains two points of respect from him, but he’ll never know.

[lunavagans]

I think a friendship between Shadow and Erune could be fun if you like. Give Erune a faible for ghost stories and superstitions, but in a paranormal investigator way.

[indulgentnine]

Though her nerves were shot, Velvette took a long breath to calm down in the situation and tried to rationalize the fact she was a Sinner currently in Heaven. Looking up to Adam as he pulled up a chair, she could only trust him right now, though she gave a little narrow of her eyes in doubt to seeing the make-up.

“You better fucking not make me look dumb,” she reiterates for him, and when he comes closer with the first brush she flinches. It takes a moment for her to relax as she has people do her makeup all the time. It was different here for some reason, holding still where she could and trying to take in the products he used as he applied them.

Every now and then she would give a pout, looking away as if she had no idea where to look during all of this. She even remained rather quiet, but knowing how to move her face to make applying each detail easier. Glad he wasn’t going to deal with her lashes, she closed her eyes when he got to the eye shadow and gave her lips a pout as he applied the lipstick.

“Since when could you do all this?” She asked idly once he was done with her face, able to talk while she watched him move around to behind her. The fact she let him without any tension just showed how much trust she was putting in him, especially with her hair of all things. She only ever let the top of the top stylists or herself mess with that.

“I’ll try not to bloody freak out, but at least try to do something good,” she hisses but crosses her arms as she lets him get to her hair now. There’s a slight tingle she feels when he snaps his fingers not unlike what she felt when she changes her clothes. She wondered if it was the same sort of technique before her hair laid down flat to near her shoulders. This is when she saw the stark color change.

Reaching her hand up to put her fingers through it, her attention pulls to the mirror he offers. Now her hands go for it as she blinks and takes in her new look. Change was something she was used to, but she never normally changed this much as she saw even her eyes shift in hue. It fascinated her a bit more than she thought even if she had her judgments on the overall execution.

“I expected worse,” she says initially, truthfully as she leans forward into the mirror and begins to do little touch-ups with her fingers to fix any out-of-place makeup, “Real fucking different. Is this how everyone looks up here? I haven’t ever actually seen a Winner, you know. Just you and some of the angels in Hell.”

Adam gave her a dumb smile, one with heavy confidence that he knew what he was doing and truthfully… she isn’t the first one who’s been up here that he’s taken. This is all routine to him at this point as he pulls up a chair in front of her and starts to get to work.

“I promise I won’t make you look dumb, but I’m gonna make you look… Heavenly. And not in the compliment kinda way.” He starts with a lighter foundation, one that would cover up her doll brown with something a little lighter only so when he applied dull golden eyeshadow, there would be less of a pop and wouldn’t make her stick out like a sore thumb. Heaven was constantly covered in warm colors, brighter tones which made darker colors stand out.

Her eyeliner would stay the same, less thick however, next was her lipstick, no more pure black, now it was replaced with a slightly pinker color to match the foundation and with a little blush and bronzer on cheeks, they were almost done. Next… was her hair.

“You’re gonna kill me, but it ain’t permanent so don’t freak.” He warns, moving to sit on his knees behind her and let all that poofy hair out of how she normally wore it up and with a snap of his figures and some time, the black of her hair turns gold, the red turns a nice royal blue and the highlights of the white turn a lighter blue then he straightens it, leaving one strand of very curly hair of her bang to dangle to the side of her face.

He puts up a mirror to her. “Here. I’m not the best with any of this but I think you’ll fit in here.”

[wispurring-moss]

alright. i have held my tongue long enough but i can do it no longer.

i'm gonna something that the whippersnappers aren't going to understand & the veterans will probably take psychic damage from reading. but. consider, if you will:

Husk♦️Angel

...that's it, that's the post x'3c